#Aircraft portraits
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Aviation Legend Jackie Cochran. Colonel Cochran established three world records in a F-104G in May and June 1964
➤➤ VIDEO: https://youtu.be/TwrlljrHci0
#Jackie Cochran#f 104 starfighter#Lockheed#youtube#aircraft#airplane#aviation#dronescapes#military#documentary#aviation history#portraits#pioneering#aviation pioneer#pioneer#best pilot#Pioneering women#Aviation icon
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Northern Air pilots, Tanzania 2016.
#northernair#africa#mbono#portraits#travel#lightaircraft#dirtstrip#legendaryexpeditions#pilots#aircraft#tanzania#hasselblad500cm#filmsnotdead#blackandwhiteisworththefight#kodak400tx
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Ace in a day!
Marine 1Lt Jeremiah O’Keefe of VMF-323 poses in the cockpit of his Corsair on Okinawa, 1945. He downed five aircraft during a single sortie on 22 April 1945
#portrait#fighter pilot#fighter ace#ace#f4u corsair#f4u#corsair#warbird#vintage aircraft#aviation#aviation history#history
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Family portrait...
FH-1 Phantom I and F-4 Phantom II, AV-8B Harrier, F-101 Voodoo, F-15 Eagle, F/A-18 Hornet, and F2H Banshee at the McDonnell-Douglas St. Louis, MO plant.
Through a complicated series of corporate buyouts and mergers, the AV-8B, F-15 and F/A-18 are now Boeing aircraft.
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Well I’ll Be Damned
Label Mature 18+
Summary Even though Major Gale has been captured in a war camp, it doesn’t stop him from being located and receiving letters from back home. One day, amidst the routine stack of mail, he receives an unexpected letter scented with a familiar perfume. The letter ignites his passion for his love back home, rousing him and giving him hope amidst the bleakness of his captivity.
💝Romantic Smut 💝 lovelorn•edging•handjob•ejaculating •semi private
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Well I’ll Be Damned
Major Gale awoke from his bunk and prepared for his mission of the day. He was stationed on an American base in Germany far from the comforts of his base back home. The barracks were cramped, each soldier allotted a narrow bed with barely enough room to store their personal belongings. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and metal.
Once showered and dressed Gale dug into to his rucksack at his bed and pulled one of your letters. It was one of his favorites when you teased him about a lingerie set you had purchased. As he unfolded the paper the picture of you wearing it untucked from the page. He looked over it with a smile before tucking it into his breast pocket.
Your professional portrait was always tacked into the windshield frame of his aircraft, serving as a constant reminder of you. But this one was special he looked at it almost every night.
On this particular day, he carried the lingerie photo with him instead of leaving it on base, the weight of separation from you feeling heavier than usual.
You had both written each other as frequently as possible, just as you had promised. Despite the distance, your words were a source of comfort for him in the midst of uncertainty. As he headed to the tarmac for another transport mission the longing for home weighed heavily on his heart.
Major Gale inspected the exterior of his plane before takeoff, a ritual he followed religiously. As a superstition he ran his hand along the hull feeling the smooth surface where previous bullet holes had been plated and painted over. The scars of past battles served as a reminder of the dangers that awaited them in the skies.
His men greeted him as they loaded into the aircraft, their expressions betraying the tension that hung heavy in the air. Each one understood the risks they faced, but their determination to complete the mission remained unwavering.
The mission over Germany promised to be just as dangerous as those that came before. With a sense of foreboding gnawing at his insides Gale felt a tightness in his as he sat his pilots seat and placed his hand on the hull taking a moment to let it settle.
His copilot’s concerned inquiry broke through the silence, “You alright, Major?” He asked. Gale’s response was stoic but strained, “Yeah I’ll be fine.” He reassured him.
As Gale buckled into the pilot’s seat the weight of the impending danger pressed down on him. Despite his attempts to shake off the uneasiness, it lingered casting a shadow over his thoughts. With a steely resolve he performed his preflight checks but each motion reminded him of the risks that awaited them in the skies above the enemy.
He gazed at your picture nestled in the seal of his windshield and traced his finger along it the last of his set rituals before takeoff. It was a moment of quiet reflection amidst the chaos of preparation, a final connection to you beyond the confines of war. With a lingering touch, he silently drew strength from your image, a reminder of the love and support that awaited him on his return.
As they took off that day, the roar of the engines drowned out any sense of impending danger. Major Gale’s crew had become accustomed to the risks of flying over enemy territory, but today, their luck seemed to have run out.
With a sudden jolt the aircraft shuddered violently as enemy fire tore through its metal frame severing cables and rendering the engine useless.
Major Gale’s heart pounded against his chest as he wrestled with the controls trying desperately to stabilize the plummeting aircraft. Amidst the deafening cacophony of gunfire he barked orders to his men his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon of hope.
“We’re in a controlled descent. Let’s hope we make it across the border. Prepare to bail!” he yelled his words tinged with urgency. His co-pilot guided the men through the cramped cabin ensuring each one was securely fastened into their parachute harness.
As the aircraft continued its descent Major Gale made the split-second decision.
“Bail out! Now!” he commanded his voice unwavering despite the imminent danger. With practiced precision his men leaped from the aircraft their parachutes unfurling like giant billowing sails against the stormy sky.
With his last man safely away Major Gale took a deep breath and prepared to make his own exit. With a swift motion he left the controls donned his parachute and flung himself from the doomed aircraft. The rush of wind whipped against his face as he hurtled towards the earth below his senses on high alert.
As he descended Major Gale scanned the landscape for a safe landing zone. Spotting a farmhouse nestled amidst the rolling fields below he adjusted his course and steered towards it. With a practiced hand he deployed his parachute feeling the reassuring tug as it billowed open above.
Overshooting his landing Major Gale crashed through the front door of the farmhouse and through the kitchen colliding into the stove sending pots and pans clattering to the ground. His heart was still racing from the adrenaline-fueled descent.
His abrupt entrance startled the inhabitants. A Mama and Papa who stared at him with a mixture of fear and anger.
Amidst the chaos in the kitchen, the Mama’s cries filled the air accusing him of being a Luftgangster a ‘terror flyer’. The Papa fueled by anger and fear for his safety grabbed a nearby pitchfork and joined his wife in the kitchen.
As Gale lay on his back, attempting to calm the situation in broken German with his hands outstretched, the Papa approached him and raised the pitchfork threateningly. Desperately, Gale tried to convey that he meant no harm, that he was merely a soldier caught in the chaos of war.
With a tense standoff in the cramped kitchen, Major Gale slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, using the other to unhook his parachute to show he was unarmed. The Papa, still wary but sensing no immediate threat, allowed Gale to stand.
Backing out of the ruined kitchen onto the porch Major Gale turned to look over the field in search of any of his men, instead he was met with a chilling sight. The horizon was dotted with German soldiers converging on his location. With a sinking heart he realized the grim reality of the situation they had been discovered by the enemy.
As German soldiers closed in Gale’s mind raced, his thoughts consumed by the harrowing prospect of captivity. Despite his best efforts, he was no match for the overwhelming force of the German soldiers and soon found himself being dragged away, his fate along with his fellow soldiers captured nearby now in the hands of his captors.
War Camp
In the grim confines of the POW camp, Major Gale found himself thrust into a world of harsh realities and stark contrasts. Surrounded by towering barbed wire fences and guarded by soldiers whose cruelty seemed endless Major Gale and his fellow prisoners faced each day with a mixture of resilience and despair.
As he adjusted to life in captivity, Gale was struck by the surprising quaintness of the camp’s conditions. The barracks though sparse and cramped, resembled dormitories rather than the grim cells he had expected. Wooden bunks lined the walls their mattresses worn thin from years of use. Despite the grim surroundings companionship flourished among the men, their shared experiences forged bonds that went beyond the confines of their captivity.
Amidst the bleakness of his surroundings a glimmer of hope flickered within Gale knowing that the American army was aware of the imprisoned US soldiers. They sent food and supplies frequently keeping the men fed and healthy. The realization that they hadn’t been forgotten lifted his spirits and renewed his determination as he endured.
Days turned into weeks and he even began receiving letters from home once the military confirmed his location as a prisoner in the camp. It fueled his hope dramatically especially the heartfelt ones he received from you in the US.
Each word penned with longing and affection became his lifeline amidst the harsh realities of captivity. He longed for your touch, your voice, your presence to soothe the ache in his heart.
Each time he received one of your letters his heart skipped a beat. With trembling hands he would retreat to his barrack, finding solace at the table inside as he read every word as if it were a precious gift. But it wasn’t just the words that lifted his spirits. Nestled within each envelope was a picture for him a beacon of light in the midst of darkness.
Despite the hardships of his captivity, Gale always responded to your letters with stoic resolve his replies reflecting his strength and determination.
One afternoon as he received his stack of letters, a surprising one stood out among the rest with the scent of perfume. As he opened the envelope the faint smell of your aroma gently filled the air exciting him. He began reading the letter slowly, and his eyes widened in surprise as he read the contents. A departure from your usual tender words the letter was filled with daring and provocative sexual language.
Quickly closing the letter Gale felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and his heart was pounding in his chest. Undeniably aroused by the unexpected turn he carefully stored the letter away for later that night, eager to indulge in its contents in the privacy of his bunk.
After the final count and the lights out Gale waited until the cabin fell silent the only sound the soft breathing of his fellow soldiers. With practiced stealth he climbed out of bed and made his way to the window, the moonlight was casting a radiant glow across the room.
Opening the window he let the cool night air wash over him a welcome feeling from the stifling confines of the barracks. Then with anticipation, he climbed back into bed, his heart racing as he retrieved the letter from its hiding place under his pillow.
In the soft glow of the moonlight Gale unfolded the letter once more his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. As he opened the pages an unassuming photo of you slipped from its confines, falling into his hand.
He gazed at the new image and a sudden rush of warmth flooded his senses. Your hair had grown longer, framing your face with a natural elegance. Your eyes were bright and expressive and your skin glowed with a healthy radiance as a gentle smile played on your lips. The image of you made Gale smile in return. He traced the contours of your face with his thumb lingering on your eyes and lips feeling a deep connection despite the distance.
He then pressed the letter to his face inhaling deeply. The scent of your perfume on the paper was a delicate reminder of your presence momentarily transporting him away from the grim confines of the camp to a place where he felt your warmth and love.
He glanced at the photo of you in his hand again noticing its unusual thickness compared to the others, he felt a flicker of curiosity.
As he began reading your letter, the anticipation for the provocative words built within him and by the time he reached the explicit part, his pulse was racing with excitement.
—“I had my best friend set up this photo for you Gale, she saw me fully nude and everything. Then I took risqué photos of her to send to her man of war too. Quite the little harlots we are as you would say, but I’ll tell you more about that later. I tacked the naughty photo to a harmless one and put it in this letter. I plan to send you more, I want you thoroughly satisfying yourself while you’re away from me.”—
Gale’s eyes widened in shock as he looked over at the photo in his hand, quickly setting your letter down on his stomach. He carefully peeled the photos apart, revealing one of you fully nude underneath.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked meticulously over your form; every curve and contour seemed to come alive in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming from the window. His eyes lingered on the gentle slope of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the elegant line of your legs, with his gaze pausing at the thin patch of hair between your legs making him overcome with sexual desire.
The realization slowly dawned on him that he wouldn’t have to rely on the lingerie photo of you anymore.
Gale felt a surge of arousal coursing through him the longer he stared at the image, his length already hardening just from the mere sight of you. Every inch of your body seemed to captivate him, igniting a fire within that made him feel alive in the bleakness of captivity.
Gale’s breathing grew heavy as desire surged through him, his body responding instinctively to the tantalizing image before him. He reached down and lowered his pajama pants and boxers, allowing his cock to spring free in anticipation.
Grasping himself firmly at the base, he picked up your letter once more, the paper slightly crumpled from his earlier excitement and he began to read again.
—“Before I penned this letter, I want to tell you what you made me do to myself, and your hand better be on that large of cock of yours as you read it Buck.”—
Gale chuckled you knew him all to well. He read your words with eagerness as he began to stroke himself knowing you planned to make him finish as he continued:
—“I laid in bed fully naked for you, trailing my hand over my body as I looked at your handsome picture. I pretended it was your large hand teasing me, imagining the warmth and roughness of your touch. I rested your photo down beside me, your image captured in my mind. I closed my eyes, picturing you above me, your strong body pressing against mine, your breath hot on my skin. My own fingers became your fingers as I traced delicate patterns over my clit, each touch a tantalizing prelude to what I imagined you would do. When I pushed my fingers inside myself, it felt as if it were you, each thrust igniting a fire of desire within me. As I lost myself in the fantasy of you, the intensity built until I was writhing with pleasure, and finally, I orgasmed, your name a whispered prayer on my lips as waves of ecstasy washed over me.”—
Gale dropped the letter on his bed, already fully stroking his erect cock. His head rested back on the pillow as he tried to stifle his soft sighs. He imagined, instead of your fingers, he was plunging his cock inside your tight walls, recalling how he could make you moan so loudly you would wake the neighbors.
His hand moved faster, his jerking becoming almost violent, each tug bringing him closer to what he wanted. His strokes shortened and his grip tightened, and he began making quicker, more intense movements. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.
With his free hand, he reached down to gently cup his testis squeezing them to add an extra layer of stimulation. He alternated between firm and gentle strokes, his breathing growing more ragged. The image of you, lost in pleasure, fueling his arousal. He increased the pace, his cock slick with precum, the friction driving him wild. His hips bucked instinctively, pushing into his hand as if he were inside you.
Gale’s soft sighs turned into low groans, each one more desperate than the last. He could almost hear your voice, whispering words of encouragement, spurring him on. The pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, and his movements became frenzied. His hand moved in a blur, every nerve in his body focused on the growing sensation in his groin.
Finally with a sharp intake of breath and a final forceful stroke he felt himself tip over the edge. His body tensed and he released with a powerful orgasm, his cum spilling over his hand and stomach. He continued to stroke himself through the aftershocks, his breaths coming in heavy, ragged gasps, the intensity of his release leaving him momentarily lightheaded. Gale lay there spent and satisfied with the lingering image of you in his mind comforting him in the darkness of captivity.
He removed his shirt using it to clean his cum from his hand and stomach. Then with careful hands he folded your letter back up along with the pictures tucking them both securely under his pillow.
He quietly slipped out of his bunk, now shirtless, and closed the window, ensuring everything was as he left it before he settled in for the night.
As he lay back in bed, he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. The release had brought him a rare sense of peace. Thoughts of you swirled in his mind as he slowly interlaced his fingers over his abdomen, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
The familiar ache of longing was soothed by the intimacy of the moment he had shared with your image and words. With his eyes closed he allowed himself to drift into a deep sleep.
That night, Gale slept more soundly than he had in weeks. The comfort of your love wrapped around him like a warm blanket, chasing away the cold harshness of captivity. His dreams were filled with vivid images of you, your touch, your voice, your presence. In his dreams, he was in your embrace. The peace of his slumber showed the powerful connection he felt for you even from afar, giving him the strength to endure.
🪖 END 🪖
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Living to See Another Day
John “Bucky” Egan x Reader
Summary: As the 100th bomb group get ready to fly their next mission, Bucky is uncertain of his fate or his relationship.
This is based off the scenes in episode 5 of MOTA
Warnings: angst, crying, heartbreak
Words: 2k
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• • •
Thorpe Abbotts Airbase,
Norfolk, England
October 10, 1943
The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the air force base as Bucky stood on the tarmac, his heart heavy with worry. The supposed "disappearance" of his friend Buck and his crew on the mission to Bremen had shaken him to the core.
The unease in the air was palpable, a sense of foreboding hanging over the base like a dark cloud.
In front of him, Y/n’s crew were making their way to the jeep which would take them to one of the replacement aircrafts. That didn’t soothe Bucky’s nerves one bit.
There weren’t enough aircrafts to make the mission over the English Channel. And once they’d reached enemy territory, the rest would be left undetermined.
Bucky watched the squadrons getting in vehicles that would take them to their planes and possibly their last destination. His mind kept drifting to Y/n, the pilot who stole his heart all because of her sheer determination to prove that she could fly a mission even as others looked down on her. And that she did.
But no matter how talented one was, there was no guarantee of survival. You had to expect the worst.
The thought of something happening to Y/n or himself filled him with a deep sense of dread. He couldn't shake the feeling that he or anyone else could be next. No one knew.
As Y/n walked past him, her face a portrait of determination, Bucky felt a sudden surge of panic. He knew he had to do something, anything, to protect her from whatever invisible threat loomed on the horizon that could harm the future of their relationship.
Without thinking, he reached out and pulled Y/n aside, away from the prying eyes of their fellow pilots. Of course, they all noticed and whispered amongst themselves. Y/n, embarrassed and a bit confused, followed Bucky as he kept a soft grip on her arm.
Hiding behind a building, Bucky scanned the area for any wandering eyes, making sure no one else was listening.
Y/n stood there dumbfounded. This behavior was very unusual. She knew something was wrong just by the look of desperation in his face.
“Y/n, we need to talk,” Bucky said, his voice low and urgent. Confusion flickered in Y/n's eyes, her brows furrowing in concern.
“What's wrong? Why are you acting so strange?”
Bucky hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He knew what he had to do, even if it tore his heart to pieces. “Y/n, we can't do this anymore. We need to end things between us.”
The girl's eyes widened in shock.
“What? What’s going on? Why are you leaving me all of a sudden?” Y/n struggled to keep her voice at a low whisper, but she didn’t pay any mind to the men staring at her.
Bucky's heart ached at the hurt in her voice, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her the real reason behind his sudden decision. She would see him as a coward if he even bothered to bring up his motive for wanting to leave her. Instead, he shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. “I can't explain it, Y/n. But please, just understand that it's for the best.”
Y/n stared at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she scoffed, looking around in disbelief.
The man who she’d always trusted had dropped this news on her right before their biggest mission. Could the timing have been any worse?
“Fine. Then consider all of this,” Y/n circled her index finger, motioning towards Bucky as she got in his face, unable to hide her tears any longer. “over.” She turned on her foot, not wanting to hear another word out of Bucky’s mouth. He just stood there in silence, watching as he had let go of the one person in his life who he had loved so dearly.
As Y/n walked away, she quickly wiped away her tears, trying to act as if she hadn’t had the most unexpected news dropped on her.
Bucky felt a pang of guilt stab at his heart. He wished he never met Y/n like this. In a time of war.
If he could have it another way, he would’ve, but with all the men disappearing and planes going down more frequently, what was there for him? Because if anything, he wouldn’t be seeing home anytime soon.
And Y/n?
If he had to witness her go down, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
“Fuck.” Bucky muttered, mentally kicking himself for picking a time like this to end things with Y/n. The damage was done now.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
• • •
The fleet of 17 aircrafts soared through the sky, cutting through the clouds like silver arrows as they headed for Münster. The tension in the cockpit was palpable, the pilot's grip on the controls white-knuckled as they braced themselves for whatever lay ahead.
Only flying 2 aircrafts behind Bucky’s, Y/n still felt as if she wanted to rip the Major’s head off. She kept her calm composure even through the many questions and assumptions she had heard upon getting in the aircraft. The crew could see her tear-stained face and they had already guessed that there had been a dispute between her and the major.
Y/n didn’t explain the whole ordeal, but instead sold them a lie that the Major had only warned her of her flying abilities.
Part of the crew bought it, but the rest knew better. Y/n was just covering Bucky’s ass so no one would find out the two were dating. It would do more damage to her career than anything else.
“Don’t try to get us killed, sweetheart!” A crew member yelled with humor, all aware of Y/n’s lack of patience at the moment. She was much too focused on keeping watch for enemy aircraft.
She had been lucky enough to survive the missions she'd been on. They all came with their complications, but in the end had resulted in her and her squadron getting to live a little longer.
But today's mission felt different. There wasn't a feeling of security, and it all had to do with the shortage of inventory of aircrafts. they could easily be taken out. They were sitting ducks.
And then it happened.
German aircrafts descended upon them like a swarm of angry bees, outnumbering them with ruthless precision.
Chaos erupted in the sky as the metallic glint of gunfire filled the air, the deafening roar of explosions drowning out all other sounds. There was no escape.
In one direction, German planes would be firing at you, and in another, one of the fleet's aircraft would be seen going down on fire or blowing up before it even hit the ground.
Even with her many attempts to keep the plane in the air, Y/n's aircraft was hit, a burst of flames erupting from its engines as it spiraled out of control.
“Our engines been hit!”
Y/n’s voice echoed through the radio of the remaining aircraft’s. This is exactly what Bucky had been worried about. His heart clenched in terror as he watched her plane slowing falling out of the sky and closer to the earth below, a trail of smoke marking its descent.
In a state of panic, Y/n hit the bailout bail, urging everyone to get out while she tried to keep the plane up a little longer.
“Y/n, we’ve gotta get out!” Her co-pilot shouted as the remaining crew members jumped out into the sky.
Pushing herself out of her seat, Y/n rushed out of the cockpit right behind her co-pilot. The plane was descending quicker as each second went by.
Once her co-pilot got out, she jumped into the open skies, the bullets continuing to cut to through the air like flies.
Looking down at the land underneath her feet, the world seemed so large. She had never seen it this close before.
Y/n opened her parachute, the thick fabric billowing out behind her like a white flag of surrender.
What waited for her after had worried her more than anything.
Bucky held his breath for what felt like an eternity. He had no way of knowing if Y/n had gotten out of the plane.
On their aircraft, Bucky and his crew faced their own battle for survival, the enemy bullets raining down on their engines, not giving them much time to think of a backup plan.
With a high-pitched whine, their aircraft shuddered and lurched. It was then that Bucky urged the pilot to hit the bailout bell, giving the rest of the crew enough time to get out.
Once they were out, the pilot, along with Bucky would be the last to leave. Unable to decide who should jump out first, Bucky eventually jumped out into the open skies.
As he plummeted towards the earth, the wind whipping past his ears, Bucky braced himself for the impact, his mind a whirlwind of chaos. Was Y/n alive? Did she land?
Miraculously, he landed safely in a rural area of Westphalia, the soft earth cushioning his fall. As he picked himself up, he quickly gathered up his parachute, rolling it up so no one could see it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure in the distance, a familiar silhouette standing amidst the rolling fields.
Heart pounding in his chest, Bucky stumbled towards the figure, his legs shaky with exhaustion. And there, under the vast expanse of the open sky, he saw Y/n, her parachute deflated at her feet, her eyes wide with shock.
For a moment, they simply stood there, the world around them silent, the only sounds of the rustle of the wind through the trees.
And then, with a rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, Bucky rushed over to Y/n and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if afraid she might disappear.
"Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.
She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him as tears streamed down her face. "I thought I lost you,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief.
Bucky held her tightly, feeling the weight of his words from earlier. "Y/n, I'm sorry." he said, his voice filled with distress.
“I didn’t mean a word that I said,” Bucky whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “I was a fool to let you go like that.”
Y/n gazed up at him with a small, sad smile played on her lips. “Bucky, you’re an idiot. Do you know that?”
“I know- and I’m so sor-”
Y/n brought her finger to Bucky’s lips as soon as she heard the sound of voices. He quickly closed his mouth, and moved up next to Y/n. Both of them dropped to the ground, peeking through the tall pile of hay, only to see people occupying the farm nearby.
They listened closely to the words being spoken by the occupants, only to realize none of them were in english. They were in German.
“Oh, shit.” Bucky muttered in a low voice, receiving an annoyed glance from Y/n.
“We need to get out of here before they find us,” Y/n continued to keep a close eye on the man walking around the farm. If they stayed there for too long, there would be a higher likelihood of them getting caught.
“Maybe we can escape through those trees. It’ll give us some cover so no one can see us.” Y/n motioned her head in the direction of the dense forest in front of them.
“No. It's too dangerous. Someone might’ve found out that our plane crashed in this area. They'll be looking for us. We have to lay low for a little.” Bucky shook his head in refusal as he knew this territory was unfamiliar to them and too risky to wander around.
Never in a million years would he have imagined that he and Y/n would go down together. Their lives were still in danger regardless of each others’ company, but at least they wouldn’t be going through it alone for the time being.
The specter of the missing crew still loomed in the shadows, and they both silently prayed that their crew made it out alive.
Now all Bucky and Y/n had to worry about was getting out of Germany. Alive.
#mota#mota fanfic#masters of the air#major john egan#john egan#bucky egan#major john egan x reader#john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader
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Autistic reader x carl headcannons please!
Carl x Autistic! Reader headcanons
Y/N is autistic, but Carl likes her anyway and gets used to it... Some headcanons. Everyone is 18 or over.
WARNINGS: lowkey smut
In the beginning, when you were new in Alexandria, Carl (like everyone else) wondered about your strange and distant behavior. And about the fact that you often hung out with Eugene and had very bizarre conversations with him. About aircraft. Or dead bodies. Or anything else that didn't interest anyone but autistic people. Eugene: "Most people are happy to be invited to a birthday party." You: "Really?"
Accordingly, Carl was offended when he invited you to his 18th birthday party a few weeks later and you said you didn't feel like having a party, that he should invite someone else. Ron, for example. "But he's already invited!" You: *shrugs your shoulders and walks away*.
But since Carl had a thing for you from the start, he doesn't give up and keeps trying to get closer to you and do stuff with you. "All right, let's read the book on autopsies together," you suggested. Carl stared at you. "Are you bullshitting me?"
But gradually Carl found out what your passions were, so he regularly got white flowers for you. And nougat chocolate, perfume and nail polish. You naturally find it hard to form attachments to other people, but you began to grow fond of Carl. He soon became the only person you sometimes wanted to have around for long periods of time.
Carl would spend hours watching you make drawings, one of your talents. You made drawings of all the inhabitants of Alexandria, and Carl observed you with complete fascination. But not when you drew his portrait, because you did that secretly; you wanted to surprise him with it. When it was finished, you went to him and held the picture out to him without saying a word. Carl: "What's that?" You: "I made it for you." Carl (smiling) "That's brilliant!" You: "Yes, it is. I'm good at drawing."
Carl defends you vehemently whenever someone makes fun of your behavior and the fact that you are autistic. "She's just different, not worse than anyone else!"
At some point, you kiss for the first time. You: "That feels kind of weird, your tongue in my mouth. But I think I like it." Carl rolled his eyes, and from then on you guys kissed a lot.
The first time Carl tried to seduce you, you didn't understand what he actually wanted because he didn't tell you explicitly. He asked if you wanted to go to the bedroom. You: "No." Irritated and miffed, Carl glared at the TV again. "Then fine." He had assumed you were ready for this. You were, but he should have asked differently. An awkward silence fell until you blurted out, "Carl, do you want to have sex with me? In my room?" Carl shaking his head, "Yes, damn it. I just asked you if you wanted us to go upstairs." You: "No, you didn't say anything about sex."
The first time you had sex, you analyzed everything and anything when Carl touched you here and there, how his dick looked and felt, how it smelled and tasted, until Carl just locked your lips with his and eventually you just moaned and didn't say anything anyway except "Carl... Carl... Carl..."
Always a challenge: dinner with Carl's family. Uncomplicated conversation is only with Judith, who can't talk much yet. Michonne and Rick are always perplexed by how your brain works and the strange course conversations with you took. Michonne has gotten used to it faster than Rick.
Publicly holding hands with Carl so that Eugene stared at you with his mouth open in amazement.
Tags: @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808
#the walking dead#twd#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes#carl fanfiction#carl grimes imagines#carl grimes smut
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Batman: The Animated Series - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles
Mister Freeze (New Adventures/Beyond)
The accident that had forever changed Victor Fries seemingly bestowed him immortality as long as his body remained at a temperature below zero degrees celsius. While this was the case for many years, the effects of the chemicals that had transformed him into Mr. Freeze began to further alter his body.
His body began to atrophy while his head and mind remained unaffected. Before his body had completely deteriorated, Freeze built for himself a new freeze-suit. The suit was essentially an insect-like robotic carriage for his head that could be fastened into a larger eco-suit resembling his human form.
The loss of his body took a drastic tole on Freeze, further intensifying his nihilism. He resigned himself to the fact that he would never again be united with his beloved wife Nora; that he would never again be able to feel warmth of any kind, neither physical nor emotional.
Having lost that which was most precious to him, he resolved to stamp out warmth wherever it glowed. A newer, more powerful, and destructive Mr. Freeze lost his obsession over his wife and instead concentrated on bringing misery to the people of Gotham and its protector, Batman.
Freeze had constructed a cold-bomb that would encase all of Gotham in an irreversible ice-age. He planed on dropping it from his aircraft. Batman and Batgirl battled the villain and ultimately foiled his plan. The aircraft went down and Mr. Freeze seemingly perished in the crash.
Many years later, it was revealed that Freeze’s disembodied head had been recovered and was being maintained in stasis at the Wayne-Powers research facility.
Actor Michael Ansara provided the voice for Mr. Freeze, with the cold hearted villain first appearing in the third episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Heart of Ice Part One.’
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My favourite/interesting quotes from: Jim Clark Portrait of a Great Driver
"One winter afternoon when I was down there Clark explained that we had to listen for an aircraft around 4.0 p.m. as Colin Chapman, his wife and Jimmy's girl friend Sally Stokes were due to arrive. Chapman had never flown to the farm before and I remember raising an eyebrow when Clark explained how he had told Colin to find the farm. "I told him to fly to Berwick-on- Tweed and then along the line of the River Tweed from the mouth at Berwick. When he saw the first red barns on the north side he was to circle the house until he saw signs of life." At 4.0 p.m. we went outside and scanned the skies but there was no sign of action. At 4.20 p.m. there was the distant sound of an aircraft and we gazed at the slowly darkening skies and finally saw it, a speck in the distance flying in the wrong direction. Immediately Clark scrambled into a Ford Galaxie-Chapman's car, actually and we shot down the narrow farm road, through the esses near the main road junction and turned for Berwick. We had just set off and had reached about 70 m.p.h. when the 'plane suddenly turned and flew towards us. Clark flashed the headlights and Chapman dipped the wings in acknowledgement. A hand brake turn and we were zooming back past the farm and up a side road to the edge of a field filled with sheep. Clark whistled on his dog, jumped the five bar gate and lit out after the sheep with the dog at his heels. Between them they rounded the sheep up and sent them off to the far side of the field whilst Chapman made a couple of passes. On the third he almost touched down then flew off. "He's gone to Winfield", said Clark. So it was back into the Galaxie for another dash across country to the disused airfield, sometime circuit where Clark had run in some sprints in the earliest days of his motor sports career. There we pocked up Chapman and his passengers" - p25-27 Graham Gauld
"In general layout the farm had changed little over the years and it had a family ghost. This was the Grey Lady who Jimmy claimed to have seen when he was very young and taken for his mother. But, on the following morning his mother said she hadn't been near his room. Since then a number of people have been visited by the ghost. Once, when Jimmy and I were preparing some notes for his autobiography, we had a wild session with Jackie Stewart and Paddy Hopkirk. As we talked into the small hours it was decided that Stewart and I would share one room, while Paddy slept in another. Jackie and I thought it was all very funny because we believed that Jimmy had put Paddy into the haunted room but in fact we were told in the morning that we had been sleeping in it..." p27 Graham Gauld
"Clark was the world's worst passenger in any car, in any circumstances with any driver! Indeed, I can only think of one occasion in which I drove him, and then he was kind enough not to comment but just smile wanly every so often" - p46 Graham Gauld
"He once remarked that Indy would be "...fine without the Americans" but in time he made a number of friends over there" - p52 Graham Gauld
"Though to the end he was still a kindly person to those whom he allowed into his confidence, he occasionally displayed a petulance and spite which was generally uncharacteristic. To some people he was cruel, but admist this cruelty one felt that Clark was trying to punish himself for being unable to explain himself. Indeed, if he had an unfulfilled wish, it was to be understood by everyone, but to ask that was to ask for the impossible" - p73 Graham Gauld
"During those times it was a very hard job getting him to believe in himself" - p82 Ian Scott Watson
"The little things you remember are his smile, the way his whole face lit up, and his springy walk and the way he bit his nails. He was an incessant nail biter, which completely baffled me; although he had a slightly nervous disposition this completely dropped when he stepped into a racing car" - p90 Graham Hill
"Whenever I was driving he was either biting his nails or fast asleep. When he was awake there was the occasional sharp intake of breath and the odd remark 'For God's sake, look out'. He was a very nervous passenger. It must have been particularly agonising for him to sit beside me doing 800 miles in thirteen hours or so. When he was driving and made the odd mistake he could never understand why I didn't say anything and he used to say 'For God's sake say something' We were just different that is all" - p91 Graham Hill
"In personal matters, he was not a great one for revealing too much, ans he was a bit clam-like which I think may have been a Scottish trait in him? He was canny, and didn't go around saying too much to people. Very often you found out he had been somewhere or done something, which you would have never known about just talking to him" - p92 Graham Hill
"They were called the Terrible Twins, the Poison Dwarfs and many other ames. But at the height of their friendship they were inseparable" - about Jim and Jackie
"It was also at this time that I started to live in John Whitmore's flat in London with Jimmy. From that day on we called it the Scottish Embassy" - p101 Jackie Stewart
"Though Jim led something of a monastic life, I must say that put there he was a real swinger, living a very busy life" - p101 Jackie Stewart
"In fact we spent so much time with one another that we became known at Batman and Robin - and I kept calling him Robin" - p102 Jackie Stewart
"Jimmy Clark was also very nationalistic, indeed we both had this trait and we were quite sincere about it. It really had to be Scottish. If anything came up wherein he was called English he was at pain to correct it" - p103 Jackie Stewart
"When reflecting on the future that Jimmy had in store I feel that he was not going to go back to full-time farming in Berwickshire. He was living the life of an international figure and no matter what might have happened in later years, I don't think he would have returned to Duns permanently. He had become a very sophisticated person. He played pretty hard and his tastes were very high and these he wasn't going to satisfy in Duns. I am sure he would have kept the house and that from time to time he would have loved to go back up there, but I don't think he would ever have gone back and settled down in the way a lot of people would have liked to imagine that he would. This just wasn't on and this is why, when people told me that Jimmy was thinking of retiring, I know that this was not the case. We talked about this a lot but he really didn't know what he wanted to do in the future. He didn't let anyone know what he was doing." - p105 - Jackie Stewart
"He was much more conscious of his personality than most people realised. It you went into a restaurant with Jimmy he did want to be recognised as Jim Clark. He didn't want it from the point of view of people asking for autographs but, like any human being, he did want the benefit of best table" - p107 Jackie Stewart
"His most difficult task in life, however, was making decisions.It was completely incomprehensible to find that someone who was so accurate and definite in his actions in a racing car was so completely inadequate when a decision had to be made outside a racing car. The number of times we have missed dinner because the restaurants have all been closed because Jimmy hadn't made up his mind which restaurant we should go to are legion, and the same is true of movies. One story is so typical of Jimmy. We were coming back from one of the American races and driving along a road where you cross a railway line with a ten mile straight one side and a ten mile straight on the other side. Jimmy is at the wheel of this Ford Galaxie and he gets to the crossing and stops. He looks one way then the other and there isn't a train in sight ten miles one way and ten miles the other then he turns to me and says 'well... what do you think?" He wouldn't dare make a decision without all sorts of drama. " - p107
"He was very keep to read everything said about him, and to make sure that there were no mistakes (this was a characteristic of Jimmy - he was most insistent that even the smallest of mistakes should not be made). He would spend half the afternoon reading sitting on a chair half in hand out of the little office. Sometimes if there were too many people talking in the office he would even shut himself in it" - p120 Gérard Crombac
"He met most of the French drivers in motorracing and the parties he went to were motor racing parties. He seldom went out on his own" - p122 Gérard Crombac
"He was no gourmet but he was becoming one, and he was very fond of French oysters we usually ended up in a sea food place " - p122 Gérard Crombac
"But although he was very generous, he remained the canny Scot of legend and he was not one to waste any money. I remember that he didn't want a house maid in the flat, so if one turned up in the middle of the morning, one might find James Clark Esq., O.B.E, pushing the vacuum cleaner through our living room" - p125 Gérard Crombac
"I thought his rather strong Scottish accent was fading with the time, until an incident when he was invited to patronise the opening of a French pub, which was to be done in style with the help of a pipe band. When Jimmy turned up and realised these people were fellow Scots he started chatting happily with them and I could hardly understand what he was saying as his accent had come back strongly and so suddenly." - p126 Gérard Crombac
"Jimmy's Scottish upbringing had instilled in him a rather restrained attitude towards girls, and I think he was very very shy with them in the early part of his career. But he was also tremendously attractive to them they would come up to him for autographs, and would leave no doubt as to their true intentions. In part he enjoyed this, but I also think he was put off in a way by this ruthless approach, so that he had absolutely no respect for most of them. So as a result, there were times when he wasn't the perfect gentleman." -p126 Gérard Crombac
"There was also a time he found a packet of cigarettes in a tent, gathered a bunch of boy scouts around him and gave them the cigarettes. He then had a picture taken of all these boy scouts lined up a cricket team smoking cigarettes with Jimmy in the middle holding a half gallon of beer." - p136 Bill Bryce
"I think Jimmy drove like a ballet dancer, he had the lightest feet and hands on earth. He had immensely strong shoulders and arms but this was the only part of him that was strong physically. He was a great dancer in motor cars, gentle with them, kind with them and I feel that the reason he was a great driver was that there was always the feeling of participation with the motor car, so the driving almost became sixth sense with him in many cases." - p145 Walter Hayes
"All this stuff about Jimmy the Shepherd with his little flat cap was nonsense. He wasn't a great Shepherd. He liked to go back to the family every so often to rediscover who he was" - p146 Walter Haynes
"When I first met Jimmy he found it extremely difficult to speak in public and he was exceptionally shy about it" - p148 Walter Haynes
"I remember just before his accident, he was talking about his future and what he was going to do when he stopped racing, and he said he finally made up his mind that he wouldn't in fact go back farming. He still loved it, but I think after the excitement and turmoil of racing, flying and the life he had been leading. I think he wanted to settle down in some branch of the aviation business" - p164 Colin Chapman
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The lore of Robert House is a pulpy, folkloric satirization of the esoteric legacies of Howard Hughes and Walt Disney, critiquing these figures' politics and ambitions while indulging in urban legends pertaining to them. House's portrait resembles both men, and Hughes had a habit of raising his left eyebrow in photographs.
Hughes was a reclusive millionaire with ties to the real world Las Vegas Strip.[Non-game 5]
On the first floor of House Resort hangs a large portrait of Mr. House standing in front of an enormous, bipedal robot. The portrait is based on a real-world photograph of Howard Hughes standing in front of a Boeing 100A aircraft in 1934.[Non-game 7]
Jane, House's Securitron companion, is a reference to real world actress Jane Russell, who worked for Hughes' production company for several years.
His mummy-like appearance in the life support chamber is based on Hughes' radical change in appearance later in life, when he was photographed with long, sharpened index fingernails. Hughes grew a wild beard, which became whispy and white, resembling House's cobweb-like facial hair.
House's project of preserving the Strip as an autonomous city-state parallels Disney's vision of EPCOT as a self-sustaining "city of tomorrow." EPCOT ultimately became a very large amusement park.
House's life support machine parallels the urban legend that Disney's brain was cryogenically frozen.
The Nuka-World character John-Caleb Bradberton is based on the same legend.
As outsized depictions of authoritarian capitalists, both House brothers satirize libertarianism. The matter of Anthony's all-consuming conspiratorial worldview and abuse of power over his employees is likewise an expression of this theme.
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In my landmark analysis of The Wind Rises, I interpreted the film in terms of Miyazaki working through his feelings on his life’s work—perhaps regret and shame thinking of all the sacrifices from others it took to bring his work to fruition, to pursue his desires and ideals; his ideas on what “beauty” is and perhaps how glad he is that it exists/is created in spite of all the suffering that may be attached to it. I did not talk about the relatively more straightforward ways of reading the film, which is of course about Japan during World War II: Miyazaki reflecting on the factors that drive history, what it means to live through, to be embedded in—and to look back on—so much violence; Miyazaki reckoning with his own family’s role in the imperialist war effort as well as his lifelong infatuation with the aesthetics of military machinery. Considering these modes of interpretation together yields a portrait of a man and his art—Where does it come from? What does it value? Where does it want to go? As such, The Wind Rises is arguably a very rich and fitting swan song. And yet, with its grounded, adult perspective on the war, the film also sticks out like a sore thumb in Miyazaki’s oeuvre and maybe always sat uncomfortably as a conclusion to it.
For those who feel that way, The Boy and the Heron should come as a welcome addition to Miyazaki’s filmography. It is, after all, a return to fantasy adventure with a child protagonist—something that feels, at least more so than a quasi-biopic of an aircraft engineer does, like quintessential Miyazaki. But crucially for our purposes, the film is not just a return to a familiar form (often quite literally a sum of everything that came before it), it is an extension of and second half to The Wind Rises. Through the lens of my interpretation of The Wind Rises, The Boy and the Heron is like an inversion of The Wind Rises in that it foregrounds the concerns with artistry and legacy while keeping the war in the background and frame of the narrative.
Two scenes in The Boy and the Heron in particular reminded me of The Wind Rises. First is the scene of the dying pelican, which visually recalls the scene of the ill man in Princess Mononoke but in terms of the content of the dialogue reminds me more of the scene in The Wind Rises of the children turning down Jiro’s offer of castella cake. It is a reflection on poverty, pride, and survival. In the context of these films, we are led to consider specifically the condition of the Japanese people, the things they were driven to do, and are left to draw our own conclusions with regard to the nuances.
The other scene, of course, is the brief moment of Mahito looking at the windshields his father brings to the house and remarking on how beautiful they are. This scene embeds in The Boy and the Heron Miyazaki’s preoccupation with the aesthetic allure of aircraft originally designed for warfare, a contradiction between beauty and violence that is mirrored in the dream world that Mahito ultimately decides to reject.
In the dream world in The Boy and the Heron, there are so many echoes of past Miyazaki and Ghibli films it is deafening. Seemingly contrary to Jiro’s solemn resignation to the world of pyramids, Mahito rejects the dream world he’s inherited and ventures to build something new in the real world. But I’m not sure they are so far removed from each other. They are complimentary views of the same object (Miyazaki’s legacy), one from his own perspective and one from the perspective he hopes for future generations to take—one of not overly attaching themselves to some old fool’s dreams. In The Wind Rises, perhaps Miyazaki tries to celebrate his life’s work without celebrating it. In The Boy and the Heron, he gives us the greatest hits slideshow we wanted and then some—a celebration of the joys and tribulations of the creative act he so compulsively pursued—but not without gesturing to us nonetheless to peer beyond the curtain.
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As a lovejoy fan, hearing the words: "We're all on a CFIT so take what you see fit" in Its Golden Hour Somewhere had my spider senses tingling - Wilbur doesn't just put random words in his songs.
I looked up what a CFIT is and google says a:
"Controlled Flight into Terrain (CFIT) occurs when an airworthy aircraft under the complete control of the pilot is inadvertently flown into terrain, water, or an obstacle."
May I draw your attention to the music video for Call Me What You Like where a plane crashes
And the plane symbolism doesn't end there
In Portrait of a Blank Slate it says "I could wait here, by the west pier. Watch the flotsam float, slowly disappear"
Flotsam is the wreckage of a ship or its cargo found floating on or washed up by the sea, however it could easily be used to describe the wreckage of a plane, say the one that crashed in CMWYL or the CFIT in IGHS. Perhaps they're one in the same?
Idk I'm bored and want an excuse to talk about lovejoy lol
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Sonic Stellar - Prologue, Part I
Prologue: A New Genesis
Three months later...
The late morning was silent, a portrait of complete tranquility. Like a perfect summer, but without the sweat to match. There were no clouds in this sky, no waves on this ocean, no strife on this day. The faint ripples of the sea were all that could be heard nearby.
...is what would be said, were it not for the giant purple aircraft soaring erratically overhead, flying left and right almost as much as it flew straight ahead.
"WHOOOO! Ha-haaa!"
The vessel in question, the SS Tornado EX, performed at an absurd speed for its size, and that wasn't all it had up its sleeve, as shown by the beeline it made towards the ocean below... only to then raise back up at the last second, completely unharmed, and impressively undrenched. About the only absent trick was a full-on barrel roll, as the lack of seatbelts would have presented a problem. Otherwise, nothing was beneath it.
Fortunately for the sealife, this was no reckless flyer... not too reckless, anyway. This glorious machine had seen its day before, and its pilots even moreso. In a change of pace however, it was the older member of the two who had found himself at the driver's helm. As it had been a while, his friend graciously offered him the role. He knew the risks full well, but he trusted him with his life.
After all, who wouldn't trust Sonic the Hedgehog?
"Having fun?" Tails wryly commented, not even shifting his gaze from the brochure he was reading. Despite his young age, he had experienced more than quite a lot of adults. Sonic flying in his own, unique way was like a Tuesday to him.
"You know it!" Sonic confirmed, with a characteristically wide grin. His bliss was downright enviable. "Haven't lost my touch!"
"I never said you did," his friend lightly chuckled.
As the Tornado EX continued its display of aerodynamic showmanship, something caught the corner of the fox's eye. He didn't put his brochure down, but he did glance to his right at the water below. It was shimmering marvellously, which would not be considered an irregularity on its own, but...
"Hey, does the sea look different to you?" Tails asked his partner. The entire time during their journey, it had remained pure blue, as one would expect, yet all of a sudden, the ocean had quietly turned a faint teal, as though it had always been that way. It couldn't have been the conditions either, since the weather hadn't changed at all...
"Huh, it kinda does," Sonic mused, which was followed up with a knowing smirk. "Must be cause we're getting closer! In fact..."
He paused, with a brief squint of the eyes... then nodded eagerly. "Yeah, that's it! That's the one!" He couldn't resist a fist pump. "We made it!"
As they flew closer to their intended destination, its true scope became quickly apparent, which got an impressed whistle out of the hedgehog, and silent awe from the fox. Without question, it was the largest island they had ever seen in their lives. Perhaps it was just as well that this one did not float in the air. Its perimeter, at least what little of it they could see from their direction, was near-completely circular, as though it had been precisely and carefully carved that way, and although no one appeared to be setting off any fireworks, a glowing phenomena seemed to radiate from within.
Viridonia was a more than worthy fit for their chosen vacation. To Sonic, the great thing about the world was that no matter how much of it he had seen in his travels, there was always bound to be something else further beyond. He wouldn't have it any other way.
With a simple push of a button, the Tornado EX slowly, yet rather ostentatiously, folded its wings as the aircraft hit the water for real. With the exception of a single sharp bump, the landing was respectable, much to the internal relief of Tails. As it made its way further towards a visible docking bay, the young heroes both knew they were in for the time of their lives.
In what way, however...
---
After he and Tails double checked that they tied down their ship in a way that wasn't amateur, Sonic turned around and got a first proper, in-depth look at his surrounding. The chalk white sand almost took up his attention all on its own, as did the black railings with their distinguished floral-themed patterns, but the town itself was simply too enticing to ignore.
Lime Shores could be described as walking into another world. Not the past, not the future, but one entirely of its own. It wasn't the largest town Sonic had ever seen, but it didn't need to be in order to make its first impression count. Every building that he could see, though they had a wide selection of colours for roofs, were otherwise a sleepy light blue from top to bottom. The formations that marked the cobblestone ground were a delicate selection of pastel pinks, light turquoises, hazy purples, and sea greens, among others. Shops and stands had been set up that sold all manners of pottery, jewelry, and other bits of pleasure to the senses that didn't match what he had seen anywhere else. It was like stepping into a book, and he would know, since he's done that before.
And throughout all of this, the residents carried on with their day as though it were any other. Animals and humans alike could be seen left and right, which - not counting the hedgehog's own presence in human-populated cities - was not a sight he was used to seeing. Their choice of fashion was equally as varied across the board, each of them with their own untold story. Some of them even looked in Sonic's direction ever so briefly, then carried right along as though he were a regular guy. Not that it particularly mattered to him if they recognized him, since that was never what he was about.
With his hands on his hips, his eyes stayed put on the scene, content with what he saw. As Tails walked up the small flight of steps to join him, the hedgehog could barely hide the joy on his face. He could feel his heart pumping in anticipation of this new venture.
"This is gonna be sweet," he let out with a smile. The sense of wonder found on the fox's face confirmed he was unambiguously feeling it too. "All this for the two of us."
"~Sonic!~"
The smile remained perfectly still on his face. "Oh."
Sonic and Tails turned to their right in unison, as if they didn't already know who it could be, to find none other than Amy Rose, who was currently sprinting over to them in only the way that she could. Her trusted friend, Cream, was tagging along right behind her, as was Cheese the Chao. It would seem that they decided to go for a vacation of their own... right here, of all places. A mere coincidence, right?
"Fancy seeing you here!" Amy beamed, with one hand on her hip, and a finger on her chin. "You didn't tell us you guys were coming here too!"
"Well, uh..." Sonic turned to Tails for a brief moment, to which his orange pal merely shrugged. "I mean, you didn't tell us either... Not that I can blame you for stopping by, cause look at all this!"
"It's so pretty, Mr. Sonic," Cream simply said, with that innocent smile on her face, and her hands clasped.
"Chao!" Cheese gladly agreed.
"As soon as we heard about this place, I knew we HAD to go," Amy explained, as her tail predictably swished to and fro at the sight of her hero. She took another look at the glowing buildings. "It's the perfect little spot... or big spot... and it even kinda has a romantic touch to it-"
Before finishing, she noticed Sonic wordlessly raising an eyebrow, as if he knew exactly what was coming. Sensing this, Amy abruptly cleared her throat.
"Well, anyway, it's great that we're all here," she laughed. "I don't suppose you were planning on doing anything before we turned up?"
"We were just sort of looking around for now," Tails answered, scratching his head awkwardly. "We just got here after all, so we don't know where everything is yet."
"Oh, we only arrived a couple of hours ago, so we're getting used to it too!" The pink hedgehog mischievously smirked at Sonic. "Wanna do it together?"
Sonic took one look at her, and jokingly sighed, complete with rolling his eyes as dramatically as possible. "I GUESS there's no harm," he muttered, though he couldn't help but smirk in turn at his bubbly friend's not-too-subtle determination. "Too bad Knuckles couldn't attend, I think this could have been up his street... or maybe all the blue would have reminded him too much of me."
As the blue hedgehog and his two-tailed partner began to examine the stands in person, for a closer look at what they had to offer, Amy was all too ready to join them. However, upon looking back, she soon stopped in her tracks as she noticed the mild expression of guilt on Cream's face.
"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked out of concern, and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Missing home already?"
The bunny grabbed her left ear out of shame. "I know it's silly of me, because we've been to so many places before... but this is the first time in a while, so I think I might need to get used to it again..."
"Y'know, there's nothing shameful about that," Amy rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. "Tell you what, why don't you have a look around of your own and in your own time, then you can meet back up with the rest of us?"
After mulling it over, and checking for Cheese's input, Cream nodded gently. "That sounds good... but I won't go too far away," she clarified, before the two of them shared a giggle together.
---
"Maybe we could find something for mother," Cream pondered out loud, with some increased elation. "Or maybe a picture would be nice?"
"Chao!" Cheese nodded enthusiastically.
As promised, Cream made sure to not stray too far from her friends. She had been in unfamiliar territory before, and had gotten herself out, but those had a particular urgency to them. To do so on what was meant to be a calming vacation would be the opposite of ideal. As she made her trek, taking mental notes of where certain passing sights were so as to remember them for later, she found herself looking down at the colorful cobblestone more than once. Not without reason.
She hadn't noticed it previously, but now that she was this close, it almost looked… translucent? Maybe that wasn't the right word, it wasn't as though she could see right through it, but despite being a simple stone walkway, it was as though some kind of energy had been quietly streaming right through it, bringing its soft flavors to life.
And now that she thought more about it, the buildings from earlier had a similar thing going on. The more she thought back to them, their colour also looked less like an ordinary coat of paint… Was she imagining things, or was this really how they were? Was there something more to them...?
Before the bunny could give it additional thought, she looked up once more, and found that she was actually in a secluded woodland area now. She wasn't that far deep into it, she could still see the familiar shore from a certain distance behind her, but she immediately took to it. The trees and bushes, of which there were plenty, provided a bountiful mix of dark greens and oranges for their leaves, and inbetween was a modest field of flowers. Some of the flowers in question were similarly orange, while others were either red or yellow.
"Ohhh!" Cream eagerly ran over to them, and kneeled down for a closer look. It was a mystery how she didn't scrape her knees in the process. "They're so beautiful, aren't they? Maybe we could give one for mother, or for Amy! ...Although... what if someone owns them? They might not like us picking them, huh?"
"Chao..." Cheese astutely commiserated.
Regardless of that possibility, it was still a joy for the two of them. She pointed at this flower, that flower, that flower over there, and more or less every other flower. She was certainly caught up in all this, and she had every right to be... even if it made her a target for Metal Sonic.
From a small distance, behind one tree of many, the robot watched the bunny having her fun. Its limbs lowered for a moment, as though it had been taken off guard... as though it had been doing something else before noticing her. Perhaps it did not expect more of the hedgehog's friends to appear on this island. Perhaps it remembered her as one of the culprits that got in its way that one time. Whatever the case, it wouldn't remain an issue for long. An enemy to Eggman is an enemy to Metal Sonic. And there's only one option for pest control.
With the element of surprise, it could have swiped her in a second, before she would have time to realise what had even happened. It knew that. It was more than capable. To witness the look of fear, though... that's a special pleasure. One that would not be sacrificed.
Metal stepped forward, with an alarming absence of sound for such a machine, and slowly closed in on the unassuming duo. As they continued to point out whichever flowers that had tickled their fancy, its left hand scraped its claws against its palm, as if it were hungry, starving, to use those claws on anyone, or anything. As a look of uneasiness suddenly appeared on Cream's face, as though sensing something was amiss, Metal swiftly raised its left claw, waiting sadistically for the moment she turned her head.
*THWIP*
It would not get the desired craving.
Metal jolted, and turned to its left, in a way that heavily suggested something else had distracted it. Yet, there appeared to be no one else in the vicinity. Before Metal could regain its focus, Cream had finally turned, and suffice to say, she was immediately filled with shock. Despite this, she took to a fighting stance rather quickly for her age, with Cheese going as far as to put up his dukes, yet the fright remained present on both of their faces. As Metal took notice of this, it tilted its head, and silently nodded. It was prepared to deal with this silly girl in the old fashioned way. It stretched out its claws, ready for a battle if necessary-
*THWIP*
Metal jolted once again, as though it had dodged something, even though neither Cream or Cheese had laid a hand on it. It looked at her again, and although no emotion could be registered from its permanent glare, something seemed to tick in its head. With a mocking wave, it flew away violently, leaving as quickly as it had arrived. The rabbit looked up in the sky at where the evil doppelganger had vanished, and she couldn't help but be a teensy bit baffled at the whole experience.
"M-...Metal Sonic?" She paused to check her heartbeat. "What was he doing here? Why did he attack us? Is he doing something for Doctor Eggman?"
As soon as she mentioned the scientist, she gasped, and clasped both of her ears at the mere thought of him. "Oh no! Could the doctor be up to bad things again? In this pretty place? We've got to tell our friends about this!"
"Chao! Chao!"
"Huh?"
Cheese lightly tugged on her ear to get her attention, and pointed at one of the trees from nearby. At first, she couldn't tell what she was meant to be looking at, but upon inching closer, it soon became apparent. There was something there that hadn't been there when they had entered. Namely, a pair of arrows, both of them stuck on the same tree.
With a raised eyebrow, she slowly placed her hand on the lower arrow that was stuck, and gently took it off, taking care not to break the arrow outright. As she examined it, the craftmanship stood out to her: not that she would claim to be an expert on that sort of thing, but it was clear even to the casual perspective that this was no simple job. It was finely put together, and the handle even had a specific pattern carved on it, consisting of swirls in one direction or the other. Now, as for who could have made these...
"Are you okay?"
"Ahh!"
Cream did a little jump upon being startled by the sudden voice that came from a very close proximity. As if being startled once wasn't enough. Though this one had a voice... and that voice was distinctly feminine. Seeking out the source, she turned her head to the left, only to find nothing. She turned her head to the right... and was greeted with a thick pair of blue boots that stood tall and reached up to the person's knees. The heels of which were firmly flat, and behind them was the lower half of what seemed to be a tail as green as mint, and smooth as silk. The kind of tail that you'd expect from a horse. Taking a moment, Cream slowly glanced her way upwards.
Where the boots ended - which took a while, as their legs were quite long from her perspective - a pair of brown breeches began, and as she got to see the rest of the person's tail, she could confirm that it was indeed that of a horse. Covering their chest was a breezy tank top, with the same shade of blue as her boots, and their arms were covered by a pair of icy blue gloves that reached just above the elbows, one of which was holding onto a maroon bow... which, as it happened, featured a remarkably similar spiral pattern to the arrows on the tree. The figure itself had a youthful, yet mature build, and her fur was as gentle green as her tail.
Finally, the rabbit looked up at the head, but much of the lady's face was obscured by a bandana from the bottom, and a headscarf from the top, both of which were colored... well, surely you can guess. Poking out between them were a pair of warm brown eyes, and some of her bangs. Two arched ears poked out of the headscarf, along with a ponytail as large as her head that reached down to the upper half of her body. Amusingly, its shape strongly resembled that of her actual tail. After completing the analysis, Cream looked at the bow again, and immediately put two and two together... but not before realising she had remained quiet for a little too long.
"Y...yes, miss," she stuttered. "Thank you..." She really wasn't used to being crept on, let alone twice on the same day. She briefly wondered if this was how Blaze felt, before she soon remembered the arrow in her hand. Without another word, she raised the arrow in the woman's direction, as if to hand it over to her. She wasn't sure what to make of this person, and not just because she couldn't see much of her face, meaning she could only really look into their eyes.
Then again, they did just come to her defense, didn't they? And those eyes were as far from Metal Sonic's as you could get. They were calm... tender...
"And thank you," the lady said, as she blinked with a tiny nod. She took the arrow from the young girl's hand, and casually placed it back into her pocket that, by all accounts, should not be able to fit an arrow. She followed this up by gently pulling the second arrow from the tree herself, and placed that one in the same pocket. "Pardon me for causing a fright, but I couldn't let that incident go undisturbed."
"I'm... sorry about that," Cream shuffled her foot, still awkward in this unplanned for presence. Admittedly, she was also slightly weirded out by the unexpected maturity of the person's voice, despite them appearing to be not that much older then her friends. "I was silly, I should have noticed him-"
"What?" The horse glanced in her direction, and slowly kneeled down to her level. "My dear, what on earth do you have to be sorry for? That dirty bucket of garbage got the drop on you, it was hardly your fault." She gave a playful wink. "Besides, I'm sure you would have kicked his butt. You've done it before."
Cream couldn't help but giggle at that. And despite how it may have sounded to a more cynical individual, this was not hot air she was spewing just to make her feel better. It was obvious from the tone in the older person's voice that she fully believed what she was saying. And yet, what reason would she have to believe such a thing? Unless...
"You... know who I am?" the rabbit asked.
"Chao?" Cheese boldly questioned.
"Why, of course I do," the lady answered, with the faintest hint of a chuckle behind her bandana, as she rested her hands on her knee. "You and your friends are quite the celebrities, are you not?"
Before she could respond, Cream took another look at the eyes. The longer she looked at them, the more she noticed something else about them. For reasons unknown, they did not have the common white sclera. Instead, they were a very mild, light blue. You were not likely to notice it from far away, but up close was a different story. It was peculiar, and irregular, but not threatening... she found it kind of pretty, in a way.
"I don't really know about that," Cream bashfully scratched behind her head. "I know Mr. Sonic saves the world a lot, but I don't think anyone from around here recognizes him that well. Or maybe they don't care, it was kinda hard to tell..."
The woman paused at this. Her gaze turned downward for a single moment, before looking back up at the girl's own. After an additional moment of silence, her left glove slowly reached up to her bandana, and - with what seemed to be a short burst of hesitance - softly pulled it down, revealing the rest of her face at last. The first thing Cream noticed was how round and soft her muzzle was, with two slits that formed her nostrils. The second thing she noticed was how... pale it was.
"Well, if it means anything, you've got one fan over here," she stated fondly. Now that her face was revealed, the rabbit could appreciate the comforting little smile on her face. "Rest assured, I know who Sonic is. I know who you all are."
"You know all about our adventures?"
"Mm-hm," she confirmed, slightly sheepishly. "Not literally everything, but... generally, to put it lightly."
Cream looked at Cheese, who responded by nodding, indicating that the lady was fair enough in his book. As if by swift activation, a wave of excitement quickly filled the rabbit's expression, as an idea formed in her head.
"Would you like to meet Mr. Sonic?" she politely, yet unhesitantly asked.
The woman froze, apparently having not expected this offer in the slightest. She had merely intended to look out for her after Metal Sonic's attack, and was grateful enough to be speaking with her, now all of a sudden... what?
"I..." She took a moment to process that this was, in fact, reality. That she was not dreaming. That she was offered, out of nowhere, to meet Sonic the Hedgehog.
"...Well... if it wouldn't be a burden for him..."
"It won't, I promise!" Cream grinned cheerfully, and wasted no time in grabbing the equine's hand. "He makes new friends all the time! I'm sure he'll like you, Miss... Miss..."
"Lutrudis," the horse clarified, smiling once again. "Lutrudis Hadeer, to be precise. And please, there's no need for the title. Being with you is the real honor."
"Hee hee, that's such a lovely name!" Cream clapped her hands at the thought of it. "Don't you think so, Cheese?"
"Chao Chao!" Cheese cleverly pretended to know the meaning of it.
"Heh, well," Lutrudis started, as she tried her best not to be overwhelmed by the praise. "I suppose we ought to let them know as well that a certain Metal Rotter is on the loose, hmm?"
"Yes, of course!"
As Lutrudis got off the ground, and switched to standing upright once more, Cream's excitement temporarily halted as she noticed the look of exhaustion on her face, as though this simple act took a lot out of her. Before she could ask about it, the horse lightly fluttered her hand, as if to preemptively dismiss any concern.
"Phew," she muttered, and rubbed the side of her chest. "My apologies, I'm... not the fastest on my feet. Between you and me, my endurance has always stunk quite offensively. Far from Sonic's level, I'm sure."
Cream put her hands to her mouth, and nodded with full understanding. "Oh, I see. Sorry, Miss Hade-" She took a moment to catch herself, then let out a proud giggle. "Lutrudis."
The horse said nothing. Her smile was all that needed to be said.
---
Back to Intro...
To Prologue, Part II...
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Overcompensate
take excessive measures in attempting to correct or make amends for an error, weakness, or problem
Next Semester
a half-year term in a school or university, especially in North America, typically lasting for fifteen to eighteen weeks
Backslide
to go back to doing something bad when you have been doing something good, especially to stop working hard or to fail to do something that you had agreed to do
Midwest Indigo
an area in the US that includes Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, Nebraska, Missouri, and Kansas a bluish-purple colour
Routines In The Night
a sequence of actions regularly followed
Vignette
a brief evocative description, account, or episode a small illustration or portrait photograph which fades into its background without a definite border
The Craving (Jenna’s Version)
an intense, urgent, or abnormal desire or longing
Lavish
sumptuously rich, elaborate, or luxurious bestow something in generous or extravagant quantities on
Navigating
plan and direct the course of a ship, aircraft, or other form of transport, especially by using instruments or maps sail or travel over (a stretch of water or terrain), especially carefully or with difficulty
Snap Back
to quickly return to a previous condition a type of baseball cap
Oldies Station
someone or something, esp. a song, movie, or joke, that was popular long ago
At The Risk Of Feeling Dumb
stupid
Paladin Strait
a person who fights for a cause as a knight fought for a king in the Middle Ages a narrow passage of water connecting two seas or two other large areas of water
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Hi your filthy stray is back 💖
I've come searching for crumbs on your take, what would Nikolai do if, when he's at the 141 temp base (whatever's), and finds rocks under his seat on whichever aircraft he has brought this time. Little stones shaped like other things, a few pieces of quartz, and... Is that a bone...? All for luck, and because fuck Soap for trying to hide it. Nik can hold onto it for now, right? It won't weigh down the plane promise 🙏
(if im understanding this correctly and its roach bringing in little trinkets for nik like a crow then) THATS SOOOOO CUTE nik totally would display them on the dashboard or keep it on his person..
roach canonically journals and i like to think he draws too so nik totally has doodles roach does for him (a still life of his pave low here and a portrait of nik there...)
also strays always welcomed here u.u hai!!
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The Original Crew of Gemini 9
"Portrait of the Gemini 9 prime and backup crews. Seated are the Prime crew consisting of Astronauts Elliot M. See Jr. (left), command pilot, and Charles A. Bassett II, pilot. Standing are the backup crew consisting of Astronauts Thomas P. Stafford (left), command pilot, and Eugene A. Cernan, pilot."
The original prime crew of Gemini 9 (GT-9) was to be Elliot M. See Jr., command pilot, and Charles A. Bassett II, pilot. They were a part of NASA Astronaut Group 2 "New Nine" and Group 3 "The Fourteen", respectively, and this would have been their first spaceflight. On February 28, 1966, about four months before their scheduled May 17 spaceflight, they and the backup crew flew in two T-38s from Houston, Texas to St. Louis, Missouri. They were there for two weeks of simulator training for rendezvous and docking procedures, and to inspect their Gemini spacecraft at the McDonnell Aircraft plant.
"See and Bassett flew in one Northrop T-38A Talon jet trainer, tail number NASA 901 (Air Force serial number 63-8181), with See at the controls and Bassett in the rear seat. A second T-38, NASA 907, carried Stafford and Cernan in the same configuration. Weather at Lambert Field in St. Louis was poor, with rain, snow, and fog, broken clouds at 800 ft (240 m) and a cloud ceiling of 1,500 ft (460 m), requiring an instrument approach. When the two aircraft emerged below the clouds shortly before 9 am, both pilots realized that they had missed the outer marker and overshot the runway.
See then elected to perform a visual circling approach, a simplified landing procedure allowing flight under instrument rules, as long as the pilot can keep the airfield and any preceding aircraft in sight. The reported weather conditions at the airport were adequate for this type of approach, but visibility was irregular and deteriorating rapidly. Stafford began to follow See's plane, but when he lost sight of it in the clouds.
Astronaut Elliot M. See Jr. inside Gemini Static Article 5 spacecraft prior to water egress training in the Gulf of Mexico.
"As See and Bassett’s jet vanished from sight, Stafford barked to Cernan in his backseat: 'Goddammit, where’s he going?' It was the last they ever saw of their comrades."
"Stafford instead followed the standard procedure for a missed approach and pulled his aircraft up, back into the clouds for another attempt at an instrument landing.
See completed a full circle to the left at an altitude of 500 to 600 ft (150 to 180 m), and announced his intention to land on the southwest runway (24). With landing gear down and full flaps, the plane dropped quickly but too far left of the runway. See turned on his afterburner to increase power while pulling up and turning hard right. Seconds later, at 8:58 a.m. CST, the plane struck the roof of McDonnell Building 101 on the northeast side of the airport. It lost its right wing and landing gear on impact, then cartwheeled and crashed in a parking lot beyond the building which was in use as a construction staging area."
"The wreckage of their T-38 training jet, covered with firefighting foam. The jet clipped the roof of Building 101 with its right wing, then skipped twice along the roof before plunging into a construction yard nearby and exploding."
Both astronauts died instantly from trauma sustained in the crash. Inside Building 101, 17 McDonnell employees and contractors received mostly minor injuries from falling debris. The crash set off several small fires inside the building, and caused minor flooding from broken pipes and sprinklers. Stafford and Cernan didn't see the crash and made an instrument landing 14 minutes later. They were asked by the control tower, “Who was in NASA 901?” Stafford replied back “See and Bassett." They were told that McDonnell Aircraft Corp. had a message for them. "A few minutes later, as Stafford opened his canopy, there was James McDonnell ('Mr. Mac' himself, aviation pioneer and founder of McDonnell Aircraft Corp.) waiting for them. In solemn tones, he explained that See and Bassett were dead."
"A truck slowly pulls the Gemini IX capsule past flags at half staff at a McDonnell parking lot on March 2, 1966, in memory of the two astronauts who were to have flown it into space."
See, 38, had been a civilian test pilot and the married father of two girls. Bassett, 34, an Air Force pilot, left a wife, a daughter and a son.
"Alan Shepard and Deke Slayton flew to St. Louis to lead an investigation. Their closed investigative hearing was held in Building 101. On May 27, their report cited deteriorating weather conditions and a descent that was too steep for See to pull out."
The backup crew, Thomas P. Stafford (left), command pilot, and Eugene A. Cernan, pilot.
"The promotion of Stafford and Cernan from backup to prime crew meant that a new backup crew was required. Jim Lovell and Buzz Aldrin were originally the backup crew for Gemini 10. This is significant as the standard crew rotation meant that a spot on the backup crew of Gemini 10 would have placed Buzz Aldrin on the prime crew of the non-existent mission after Gemini 12 (the crew rotation usually meant that after serving on a backup crew, an astronaut could expect to skip two missions and then be on a prime crew). Being moved up to the backup crew of Gemini 9 meant that Aldrin flew as part of the prime crew on Gemini 12, which played a major part in his selection for the Apollo 8 backup and Apollo 11 prime crews, ultimately making him the second human on the Moon."
-Information from Wikipedia: link, link
NASA ID: S66-15620, S66-28075, S66-15622, S66-15621, S65-28456
source, source
#GT-9#GT-IX#Gemini 9#Gemini IX#GT-9A#GT-IX-A#Gemini 9A#Gemini IX-A#SC9#NASA#Gemini Program#Project Gemini#February#1966#St Louis#Missouri#crash#my post
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