#class 720

[alphamecha-mkii]

Star Wars: The Roleplaying Game (WotC) - Starships of the Galaxy (Saga Edition) - Class 720 freighter dumps its cargo to avoid Imperial Customs inspection by Mark Tedin

[swtechspecs]

Ghtroc Industries Class 720 Light Freighter

Source: Starships of the Galaxy, Saga Edition (Wizards of the Coast, 2007)

[national-rail]

See pinned for more info!

[visualvocabulary33]

[viper-motorsports]

The N°5 McLaren 720S GT3 Evo settles into a groove at the 2023 Spa 24 Hours as the Optimum Motorsport Gold class winning machine heads towards a top ten finish. (Photo: Ramon Kok)

[smile-files]

my computing teacher has disappeared. guess this means i can't go to office hours </3

[baristaacademy]

New Jersey Coffee School: Your Gateway to Coffee Success

Take the first step toward a thriving coffee business with our coffee business classes in Hoboken, NJ. At New Jersey Coffee School, we blend expert training with a friendly, collaborative atmosphere. Join us to learn, grow, and turn your coffee passion into profit! Our programs cover everything from business strategy to hands-on brewing skills. Connect with fellow coffee enthusiasts and professionals in a vibrant learning space. Let us help you transform your passion into a fulfilling career!

[devildomwriter]

Fun Facts 721-730

• When MC suggested Raphael and Barbatos could live in peace rather than fighting over them, Barbatos laughed and told them they had a good sense of humor.

• Lucifer told Diavolo even he (Diavolo) could not match him in the art of seduction.

• Satan cried reading a romance book called “Love’s Winding Road.”

• Solomon says he is not normally very ticklish but his sides are his weakness

• Mephistopheles believes most of what Leviathan says is utterly incomprehensible

• Diavolo seems to enjoy pampering the Little Ds. One example is in lesson 41 where he spoon feeds his own soup to Little D no. 7

• Solomon taught a broom rising class at RAD before it officially opened

• The blackboards in RAD are enchanted to act as mirrors that can see all the way to the back of the classroom. It was Lucifer’s idea.

• When Solomon finally made good food (thanks to Barbatos and Luke), Leviathan and Mammon cried from joy.

• Diavolo credits MC (in Nightbringer) as the reason he found his purpose as the future king.

711-720 • 731-740

[teamatsumu]

CRUSH (ushijima wakatoshi x reader)

summary: wakatoshi has a crush.

word count: 720

warnings: fem!reader, its all just fluff

tags: @keiva1000

Ushijima knows he has fans. He might be simple-minded and a little oblivious, but he’s not stupid.

He knows girls stare at him from the balcony during practice. And he can hear their giggling when he passes them in the halls. Tendou often calls him Shiratorizawa’s Golden Boy, which Ushijima wholeheartedly disagrees with, but never voices out loud. Tendou often says strange things. He doesn’t mind.

Ushijima doesn’t understand his popularity. Sure, he is a good player. The best ace in the prefecture. But most of these girls have no understanding of volleyball. So why are they spending hours upon hours in the stands, watching him play?

“They’re not watching the match, Wakatoshi-kun. They are watching you.”

Hm. Strange. His play is very consistent. Watching him do the same thing over and over has to get boring, especially when they aren’t watching for the sake of the game.

But then he sees you for the first time.

You are in his third year English class. In his three years of high school, Ushijima is sure he has never seen you before. Because if he had, there was no way he would forget you.

He is curious. And a little enamored by you.

You are, by all means, a regular girl. You sit on the same chair every day, bring your own bento instead of eating from the cafeteria. It is always wrapped in a pretty multicolored patterned cloth, done up in a knot on top. You have a small stuffed cat chain on the zipper of your backpack. And you wear your hair differently every day. Some days it is tied up, some days it is let down. And some days it is half-up and half-down. You have one pink bunny hairclip that you wear maybe once every two or three days that Ushijima thinks is very cute. Your uniform is always immaculate.

There are so many tiny details about you that Ushijima has learned, and he finally understands why girls would stay hanging over the gym balcony to watch him for hours, because he could watch you for hours too.

You are very smart, he could tell. You always answer correctly when the teacher would call on you, and he has glimpsed at your notes. Simple, but neat and easy to understand, just the way he likes it. There are no crazy colors and highlighters, and your handwriting is neat and beautiful, just like the rest of you.

You are also quiet. You have a select group of friends that you talk to, and while you are nice to anyone who interacts with you, you don't go out of your way to stand out. Again, Ushijima loves that. It seems he loved everything about you. All the minor details that make you a little bit more unique to everyone else.

When you show up at his game, he nearly loses his focus.

It in’t an important game by any means, just a practice match with another local university team. So why are you here? Have your friends dragged you along? Or are you here by your own volition? Ushijima feels how sweaty his palms are when he clenches his fists, and it surprises him.

Is he….. nervous?

Why? Because you are watching? How ridiculous. Ushijima has never once doubted his own strength, or his ability to win. How could your presence alter that? The thought annoys him, and he is determined to prove that you being here would not be a hindrance to his play.

Turns out, he needn't have worried. It seems your presence had sharpened his senses more than ever. Shiratorizawa won in straight sets, and of the 50 points they scored, 39 had been from Ushijima’s hand.

“You were on fire today, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou comments as the final whistle rings. Ushijima unintentionally glances at you in the stands, cheering for the team. Cheering for him.

His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he doesn’t think it is because of the game he had just played. He hears Tendou let out a dreamy sigh.

“Ah, the miracles of having a crush.”

He feels his lips tick up in a tiny smile as he throws a towel over his shoulders. Tendou is wrong. Ushijima doesn’t think he has a crush.

He thinks he is in love.

[astonmartinii]

love love love these social media aus. i am obsessed. would love to see a soft launch with carlos maybe of him showing her spain and his home? carlos just screams old money european vibes and i love it

old money | carlos sainz social media au

pairing: carlos sainz x reader a class in soft launching 101

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 301,671 others

carlossainz55: some much needed time at home

view all comments

username WHOMST?

landonorris so i see my invite was lost in the mail?

carlossainz55 i thought you were tired of third-wheeling?

landonorris touche

username was deluding myself that it was maybe his sister but the third-wheeling comment just slapped me in the face

charles_leclerc ahhhh my favourite sainz

carlossainz55 thanks mate you're my favourite leclerc too charles_leclerc i meant the dog mate arthurleclerc that's not what you said to me at imola sainz

yourusername

liked by carlossainzz5, yourbff1 and 21,761 others

yourusername: let's go explorin'

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username i'd eat her last when we eat the rich

username what i'd do to be her friend? assistant at least?

username i saw her in madrid the other day and omg she's even more graceful in person

username her posture is insane i need it bad

username while she looks great and you're all right - are we ignoring that a MAN is driving the car?

username i am ignoring it because i don't want to think about it username she can't be the coolest person in the world and be in a relationship it's not fair

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 359,561 others

carlossainz55: blood is thicker than water

view all comments

username my favourite pastime is watching the old money aesthetic overtake carlos' entire being as soon as he sets foot back in spain

landonorris oh he's getting braver

carlossainz55 you gonna be bitter under all my posts cabron? landonorris until i'm wifed again, yes.

username so like why is y/n here?

username is that defo her? username i was referring to her liking the post but now you say it, the girl on the horse does look suspiciously similar

charles_leclerc mommas boy

carlossainz55 didn't know it was a crime to love my mum

username so yall be yelling about y/n but not telling us who she is and why she matters

username y/n y/ln is a spanish socialite whose family own a lot of the high end restaurants in madrid but she's most known for her poetry and style username so do we hate or love her? username i like her, and a lot of people do, just usual dislike for being grossly rich but from what i've seen she's pretty down to earth

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 29,871 others

yourusername: keeping the operation smooth

view all comments

username THIS ISN'T FUNNY

username stop playing with us please

username i feel like this is all the confirmation we'll get

username y'all i know he's an f1 driver and everything but we all know he's PUNCHING

username i need her haircare routine STAT

f1wagsupdates

liked by username, username and 1,249 others

f1wagsupdates: it's all but confirmed!! after a pretty solid soft launch from both carlos and his new lover y/n y/ln, her latest post was captioned "keeping the operation smooth", playing on carlos' iconic theme song. our sources state that the driver and socialite poet have been together for as long as six months but after other relationships and relative platforms, both were determined to take it slow. what do you think?

view all comments

username they're very cute and i can't wait to see her paddock looks

username bestie i fear you'll be waiting a while she's notoriously private when it comes to event appearances - really only going out for her family or her own events

username they're annoyingly sexy like save some for the rest of us

username this soft launch feels like its been going for about seven years

username f1 drivers defo have a type

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 720,778 others

tagged: yourusername

carlossainz55: mi hermosa

view all comments

username AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername you live in my heart

carlossainz55 and i never want to leave landonorris free real estate yourusername my favourite third-wheel carlossainz55 stay out of grown people's business landito

username they're so lana del ray coded

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55 and 71,230 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yourusername: life with you feels like poetry in motion

view all comments

username NOOOOOOO WE LOST HER

username but does this mean new poetry ??

carlossainz55 you make me crazy baby

yourusername crazy in love

username when will it happen to me?

landonorris finally i can interact without having a year long argument with carlos

lando.jpeg

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 301,285 others

lando.jpeg: a study in third wheeling, a six month project by yours truly

view all comments

username i'm obsessed with this couple actually

carlossainz55 as much as you are annoying landito, thank you for these ❤️

yourusername we love you landito landonorris so i can use the boat yourusername i don't love anyone that much carlossainz55 eh? yourusername other than you obviously

username lando just starts domestics in these comments and i love that for him

note: sorry this one is a bit short, but i hope you enjoyed anyway!!

[themimicsvault]

TarotWeaver, a Tarot TTRPG

Take your fate into your own hands.

Back TarotWeaver on Kickstarter.

A year ago I had the pleasure of running into two incredible artists at Sonoma State University while taking a drawing class. At the time I was mulling over the idea of a tarot based roleplaying game, but knew that to do the project justice I would want to create a tarot deck for the game. I knew writing the game would already be a mountain of work, lo and behold Arie and Sara had reimagined the major arcana for their final project.

It felt like fate had put us in each other’s path at that moment.

Over the following year we collaborated to create a unique game taking inspiration from Over the Garden Wall, Adventure Time, Cairn, Into the Odd, Whitehack, Everway, and the OSR. While Arie and Sara worked tirelessly to create 78 amazing images in their reimagining of the Rider-Waite deck, I set out to create a lightweight and fun game.

I had two design sensibilities going into the project. The game could only use tarot cards for all of its mechanics. Something that turned out far easier said than done. The second was the entirety of the rules and an introductory adventure had to fit into 48 3.5”x5.5” pages. With some napkin math that meant only 720 square inches of space to write. For comparison, Mausritter has roughly 960 square inches of printable space at 24 5.5”x8.5”.

It’s difficult to pin down how excited I am for this project to come to life and hope to share it all with you soon.

Cheers and happy holidays.

[lotuseaterwhowistlesinthedark]

SELF-PROPHECIES FOR 2025:

I get 600+/720 in neet and go to a college of my choice with a scholarship.

I fix my health

I learn everything on my list

I become best version of myself.

I fall in love with someone when I will definitely hold myself back and then not confess and focus on my college and never heal from this heart break for the rest my my life.

I also gain a huge online platform as a no face influencer who is very usefull.

I learn to make oil paint and learn to oil paint

I learn anatomy

I am voted class representative in my college.

I am the most popular and nice person in my batch and am the top of class.

These are PROPHECIES so they are cursed to come true.

[national-rail]

Round 2 soon!

[tf2emporium]

New All-Class Taunt, Bomb Voyage!! Vote now on Steam Workshop This item was created by: rabscootle (https://steamcommunity.com/id/rabscootle) xbox 720 (https://steamcommunity.com/id/hcolq) NeoDement (https://steamcommunity.com/id/neodement) Hypo (https://steamcommunity.com/id/HypoThermic)

[stylespresleyhearted]

wish upon a star, to follow where you are

(not my gif, credit to creator)

masterlist can be found here.

summary: buck without bucky.

notes: this popped into my head today while working on my benny fic and majors wife two. i had to get it out because it was pounding for freedom. the formatting is a bit weird and any dialogue is written in italics. the love john egan and gale cleven had for one another exceeded any bounds and i wanted to add to that because i find the stories people write of them beautiful. P.S i don’t think bucky and rosie had anything against each other but at the sag panel callum and nate touched on how maybe rosie didn’t particularly care for egan so i wanted to dip my toe into it a bit. ask box is always open if anyone wants to chat mota, callum, austin or my wips.

warnings: minor contemplation of suicide, mourning, depression, major character death, platonic! clegan (squint and you can read between the lines.)

word count: 4.5k

-

It’s Sunday nine a.m, Gale’s eyes have only opened and he’s tired. He’s going to be tired forever.

His eyelids droop, threatening to pull him under but he knows it isn’t an option. The air smells of cinnamon and bacon; the cackling of the sizzling pans are what drew him from his slumber. Sleep wasn’t what he was doing though. It was more of a coma, eyes closed and unable to move an inch of his body but his mind and body awake. Able to hear everything. Able to feel everything still no matter how hard he’s been trying to run from it.

The closet door is swung open. His freshly ironed work suit hanging, waiting.

Responsibilities. Gale has responsibilities and he always vowed to be better than what he had so he has to get up.

His kids deserve better. His wife deserves better.

So he does better; he sits up, rubbing the exhaustion and pain from his eyes. There’s twelve hours left of his day, 720 minutes, 36 seconds before he’s going to have to do it all over again.

There are eight steps between him and his suit. Once it’s on, he has responsibilities to attend to. He has kids to raise. A wife to keep happy and show her how grateful he is to have her. Because he is, truly he is, but being grateful didn’t take away any of the bitterness of everything that has been taken away.

The thought of those things has his throat constricting, aching, yearning to yell and to release the pain.

Men don’t cry, his dad had told him.

Gale had seen men cry many times. Men braver and manlier than his father who served this country and were ripped apart and spit back into society with no guide on how to adapt or to stay alive and learning to adjust to civilian life made Germany and that damn prison camp appear inviting. At least all the soldiers in that camp understood and accepted one another. No judgements were cast.

Bucky would be in that camp.

Gale adjusts, shoving himself back underneath his mountain of covers.

His responsibilities would be there tomorrow.

The suit continues hanging.

-

Monday comes and he does better.

The suit no longer hangs on the door, instead it clings to his body — slim like it had been in the Stalag only this time he isn’t being refused food; he is refusing the food.

It’s the first day of school for his oldest and she clutches his hand all the way to the classroom door, chatting about the plans she has for the day and all the friends she wants to make. She reminds him of someone he knows - someone he knew. It burns his chest to think about a young boy being walked to his class by his single mother, having recently lost his father, and finding it within himself to be the loudest and the funniest and the brightest for the benefit of others.

Gale begs the world to be kind to his little girl. Begs it to keep the peace and prohibit war and keep her safe and rid itself of any pain

He thinks he does a good job smiling at her and keeping her engaged. He amuses all her chatting and assures her that her confidence will be her reality. He refuses to accept anything else. At some point the universe would have to bend for him just a little wouldn’t it?

I’ve tried to be brave. You have taken what I love most. Keep my girls healthy and happy.

All his energy is exerted at school drop off apparently. He gets to work but only lasts close to four hours. The creaking in his chair leads to a headache, his suit rubs against his skin and creates an itch, the sun comes out and shines to bright, time continues on and nobody stops.

The funeral was two weeks ago so people still have sympathy to give. His superior claps him on the shoulder, his peers offer their condolences once more, and then he’s on his way home.

He kept his daughter smiling today and that’s enough for him. Who cares if he wasn’t able to complete eight hours? He was a father before he was anything and he had succeeded today so it had to be enough.

Bucky made him feel enough always.

Gale goes home, dresses for bed, and closes his eyes.

-

His wife gentles him into consiousness. She pets his hair back and whispers his name. She’s smiling at him when he opens his eyes.

His daughter’s back from school and wants to tell him all about her first day, his wife informs him.

Gale nods, promising to join them soon.

She’s smiling but he sees the worry pulling her eyes down, the quivering in her chin as she attempts to maintain her smile.

He didn’t do enough today.

Gale joins his wife and their daughter in the kitchen where she’s biting into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She squeals when she sees him, jumping into his arms when he’s close enough.

He stumbles with her weight. When was the last time he’d eaten?

Daddy, she giggles, why are you in your jammies?

He isn’t sure what to say. Because Uncle Bucky died and I’m alone, isn’t appropriate.

Died. Bucky was dead. Gale hadn’t thought about it before.

The ache in his throat and the burning in his chest return. His heart breaks.

Daddy’s being silly, his wife cuts in to save him.

She takes their daughter from his arms. She probably noticed how he began to sway on his feet.

Gale has to be enough.

He puts a cap on it. Shuts it away where it doesn’t threaten to drown him.

How was school, sweetie, he asks.

His daughter beams at having his attention.

Gale remembers someone who did the same.

-

It’s Tuesday and Rosie won’t stop calling.

His wife is out with her girls, their oldest is at school and their youngest is with her grandmother. Gale is wearing a suit because he went to work again only this time he never managed to make it inside so he drove home after an hour.

The phone was ringing when he arrived and he answered afraid, thinking an accident occurred at school.

Major Cleven, he recognized the voice immediately. Us boys been tryin’ real hard to get ahold of you. Benny said, he, uh - well, we all miss John, sir.

Gale hung up the phone.

Rosie was a good man. A good, brave man who had taken the reins and kept their boys in high spirits and kept them safe when Buck and Bucky went down. Rosie looked out for Crosby after he’d lost all his boys. Rosie flew rescue missions with Buck and they talked about the beauty of peace after the horrendous events of war. Flowers now bloomed where bodies had laid rotting.

Rosie was a good man and Gale respected him, but Rosie never liked Bucky. It was nothing malicious or vindictive. Bucky was an all or nothing type of guy and he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Gale knows that. Bucky was either cracking jokes or lending a shoulder. Drinking back a whiskey or chatting up a pretty dame. He was either singing or he was dead.

If he wasn’t singing he was dead.

So Gale respects Rosie and he may have love for Rosie but Rosie didn’t like Bucky and Gale doesn’t want to talk to him.

-

He leaves the house when his wife said she would be back. He walks to an old farm he remembers from when he was young. He pets the horses.

He gets home at six p.m when work is supposed to be over and dinner is ready.

Oh honey you just missed Rosie! He rang, his wife says.

Gale nods his head. I’ll be sure to call him back.

He takes his seat at the head of the table.

How was work, his wife asks.

Just fine, honey, he says, how was your day?

-

It’s Wednesday and Gale holds his baby.

He tells his wife he’s going to stay home today. There’s no need to take their baby anywhere.

Their baby is eight months old and she started teething. She’s a gurgling, content ball of milk fat flesh in his skinny arms.

It’s okay, he tells her. Daddy’s gotchu.

She grins at him, releasing spit that he wipes off her chin. It’s his favorite thing in the world to sniff the inside of her neck: momma’s milk and spit and the fresh baby smell that’s been waning off as she gets bigger.

She’s content in his arms until she isn’t. He keeps his finger in her mouth in an attempt to soothe the ache and the itch in her gums even after his finger begins to burn and the indent of her incoming tooth scratches at his sensitive skin.

He tries to feed her and she cries.

He holds her and she cries.

He hands her toys and she throws them and she cries.

All she can do is cry and Gale understands. There’s no ache in his gums but there’s one lodged deep in his chest that refuses to go away and he understands.

You cry it out, he tells his baby. Daddy will stay with you.

Gale fixes them on the couch, her tucked in tight between the cushion and his chest. She clutches his hand in her tiny ones and moves his finger back in her mouth.

She stops crying and for Gale it’s more than enough.

He’s not sure how long it’s been but they must have fallen asleep together because the shutting of the door and tiny, stomping footsteps wake him.

He calls his oldest daughter over but she huffs in response, making a scene of throwing her school bag before heading upstairs.

The baby stays sleeping and he stands, moving a cushion over to take his place so she isn’t in danger of rolling off.

Honey, he says, what’s wrong?

She’s being awfully quiet but he sees her shoulders shaking.

When his wife turns her eyes are red and she doesn’t bother to wipe away the falling tears.

Bucky had promised her he’d visit her on the first week of school. She asked when today and I told her he wouldn’t be coming anymore and, she’s cut off by sobs racking her body.

Gale finds his oldest in her room, glaring at the door as she waits for one of her parents to come in.

Uncle Bucky is a liar, she accuses before Gale attempts to approach his grumpy child.

Hey. His voice is stern, loud, in a way that it hasn’t been since they left Thorpe Abotts. His baby girl flinches and he remembers the war is over.

Gale apologizes and she deflates, allowing him the spot beside her on her tiny bed. It’s a race car bed with unicorns that Bucky helped her draw.

Uncle Bucky loved you so much, baby, his eyes burn as he speaks, he would be here if he could.

But when, she cries.

Well, baby, he’s up in the sky now. Bucky was raised a strong Catholic by his Ma’ for all his talk of non-belief. Gale was the non believer. He wasn’t sure there was a God or a higher power but he knew there was him and Bucky and that’s all he ever needed.

His baby scrunches her brows together, he’s in the ai’plain again?

And for the first time, Gale laughs.

Yup. He’s back in that B-17.

-

It’s Thursday and Bucky’s dead.

It hits Gale like a freight train. This sense of loss and the shattering in his heart isn’t something to get over; it’s something he has to learn to live with.

He’s going to have to miss John Egan for the rest of his life.

The entire time Gale’s been waiting on Bucky to pop back up, as bruised and dirty and battered as when he entered the stalag. Bucky would crawl from his grave, demolish the expensive tombstone they’d thrown over his body, and cross state lines to get to him. Because Bucky loved him and he had done it once and he would do it again.

But it sinks in that Bucky isn’t coming back. He isn’t visiting for the first week of school and his voice won’t be heard over the receiver ever again and he won’t show up unannounced on random days because he was bored.

Buck had fallen out of the sky and Bucky had followed his route, taken multiple, horrendous detours and managed to chase him down and allow him to return home first.

Now Bucky was dead and Buck had no one that would die for him, only people he would die for.

It’s Thursday and Bucky’s dead and Gale stays in bed, debating if this means it’s his turn to follow his dearest friend.

-

It’s Friday and DeMarco’s worried.

He knocks again, ignoring Brady’s leveling stare. He didn’t care if it wasn’t proper to bang on someone’s door, he needed to make sure Major Cleven was alright.

I’m comin’, I’m comin, he hears grumbling and the lock unhatching and then the door swings open to reveal Gale Cleven.

DeMarco takes a step back, air knocked out at the memories the sight of the state of his Major brings up. The eyebags under his eyes are dark and swollen, his eyes have dimmed of any witty remarks or expressions (maybe because Bucky was gone so he had no one left to dish them to) and DeMarco’s unsure why he appears slimmer than when they were at the stalag. His shoulders are bony, tiny, and his wrists look weak.

A strong gust of air would be able to knock their Major over.

Boys, he greets and at least his voice still sounds strong.

Gale lets them in, allowing them to follow him through his foyer until they’re seated at his kitchen island. Benny arrives last, opting to sit on the arm of the couch across from where Gale and Brady sit together. He sees his Major’s eyes cinch, just for a second and Benny hopes to see fire, wants Gale to curse at him for being improper and sitting on the arm of his couch, but then it’s gone and they sit in silence.

Want a drink, from his left pocket Benny extends a flask towards Gale.

Brady’s eyes widen when he accepts it but he hides the surprised gasp behind a cough into his elbow.

Gale thanks him, then sips.

We’re all gonna miss him, Major, Brady keeps his eyes downcast, picking at his fingernails. When he’d first met Bucky he had been in awe: that’s the kind of man he wanted to be like as a kid. Through the war the walls had begun to crack and Brady had seen the faults in the persona of his favorite Major but he’d never stopped being in awe of the leader he was.

Now Brady was allowed to mourn but he couldn’t do it in front of Major Cleven, who had lost much more.

You boys take a wrong turn, Gale asks and doesn’t address Brady’s comment.

Brady looks up now, locking eyes with DeMarco. There’s a connection between a pilot and his co-pilot that exceeds one’s personal stubbornness and pain.

Benny and Buck had dropped from a plane together the same way Brady and Bucky had.

Rosie’s been trynna call you, Benny says. He said his calls stopped going through. I tried calling and it was the same thing.

Had the line disconnected, Gale says and not much else.

Benny nods, Well that’s why we’re down here, Buck. Bucky wouldn’t want to see ya like this.

Good thing dead people can’t see, DeMarco.

God and those resting see all, Brady chimes in and chooses to ignore the warning look sent to him by Benny. He respects Buck and the man he is but that doesn’t mean he would sit idly by and allow disrespect to his beliefs.

For a second DeMarco’s afraid they’re going to be kicked out of the house. Buck’s shoulders tense, a skinny elbow balanced on a bony knee and the hand holding the flask is in a white knuckle tight grip but then it is gone.

Buck deflates, a head nod in Brady’s direction an apology unspoken.

Drove Bucky mad whenever you refused to eat in the camp, Benny reminisces, He’d shove his half eaten tuna can at me to hand to you. He always said you’d never take it from him because you would go as mad as him if he refused to eat.

It was the way of their major’s. The way it had been from the first day at flight school and how it had ended in East Anglia. And their closeness never brought on suspicions or raised any eyebrows because everyone was always much too thankful to the two men who did their best to bring them home alive and sane.

‘Member when he traded his first blanket for a bar of chocolate, Brady says and even Buck cracks a smile which accompanies his head shake. He’d been so angry he had stormed back to the Polish sector and demanded they return Bucky’s blanket. The price was much too high.

The Polish soldier settled with Bucky’s beanie and that night, once he was curled in his bunk wrapped up in a blanket and beanie down covering his ears, Bucky’s grumbling about how his head was cold kept him up.

Damn blanket hog, Gale adds. The blankets always ended up wrapped around Bucky and Bucky ended up wrapped around Buck, like an even exchange.

From his right pocket Benny produces another flask. Brady shakes his head in disapproval, but accepts it when offered.

To Major Egan, he clanks his flask against Buck’s in cheers.

Their sentiments echo in the empty house. They sit telling stories about a prison camp like friends around a campfire sharing school stories.

It’s evening when the boys leave. Gale hasn’t lost his smile for the past two hours and all they had done was talk about Bucky. Gale remembered everything they said, but only once Brady or DeMarco said it. The memories he had of Bucky being kept at bay like he was afraid they would cripple and ruin him if he dared to remember.

News said there’s gonna be shooting stars lighting up the sky tomorrow, Brady shares. He always loved those.

-

It’s Saturday night and Gale lays on the grass in his backyard. When Brady had excused himself to use the restroom, DeMarco had offered him some sleeping pills, prescribed by some head shrink in Chicago that he was 90% sure DeMarco had admitted to sleeping with during a phone call once.

Only one when the nights get too heavy, he had said.

Gale had accepted them but there had been no plans on taking them until he’d been tossing and turning and had taken himself to the couch so he wouldn’t wake his wife.

He had been tossing and turning on the couch when he remembered what Brady had said about the shooting stars. He swallowed a pill and brought a blanket to lay on the grass.

But that had been over an hour ago and sleep hadn’t come and neither had any shooting star.

It’s when he’s getting up, dragging the blanket with him, that he sees light cross the sky quickly. Followed by a twin shadow soon after and he’s unsure of how many he has so he wishes fast with his eyes closed.

I wish for Bucky.

He stands there in the darkness of his yard, silent except for the crickets, and waits. Waits. Waits.

Bucky doesn’t come strolling by and Gale gives up. Hopeless and ashamed for believing in wishing upon a star. For believing he would be allowed to bend the ways of the universe like Bucky used to.

Bucky made things happen.

Gale heads inside.

-

It’s two a.m and Gale’s unsure of how long he’s been asleep but there is someone poking his cheek and calling his name.

Buck. Buck.

Gale’s humming but this person is consistent in their prodding. They don’t want just his response, they require his attention.

Buck.

He opens his eyes and Bucky’s there. Wrinkly smile, bright blue eyes, mustache and all - his Major’s hat tipped to the side.

What took you so long, he smirks.

And Gale smiles a real smile for the first time since he got that phone call. It threatens to split his face. He looks like an idiot, cheesing as hard as he is and if he weren’t so afraid Bucky would disappear he would reach out to touch him.

Stone in my shoe, Gale returns.

They’re back on base in East Anglia, watching the bombs fall after having snuck out the bunker.

Gale feels young, twenty-two again before the effects of war managed to catch up to him.

Unable to stop himself from reaching out, Buck claps a hand on Bucky’s back. He is warm and solid. He isn’t rotten and cold six feet under.

Give it to me straight, Bucky starts, the Yankees have a turn around this season?

There’s a teasing glint in his eye. He’s so sure Buck doesn’t have the answer but,

Lost to the Red Sox. Cardinals are taking it. The game had come on over the radio and Buck hadn’t changed the station.

Bucky curses, but he looks amused, looking back at Buck.

So all I had to do was die to get ya’ to listen to a game huh, he admonishes.

Dead? Gale freezes, you’re right here with me.

Bucky looks back at him to check if he’s joking, another bomb landing much closer and illuminating the shadows on his face. The curve of his jaw and the sharp lines of his nose.

This ain’t where I stay, Buck. Just asked the Big Guy for a weekend pass, he raises a thin brow.

Buck doesn’t have anything to say to that and he can’t find it in himself to muster a smile at the joke.

He thought time had turned back. That they had a chance to do it all over again only this time he would limit the drinks and the smokes and the women and the pain Bucky consumed and then his heart wouldn’t give out on him.

When John offered an invite to London, Buck would accept it this time.

He would do it right.

It was always me who couldn’t live without you, Buck. You - you’re gonna be just fine. Strongest man I know.

Everyone found it easy to assume because John was always shameless and loud in his adoration of Buck. He was never afraid to pinch his cheeks — soft and plump like a pretty girl’s flesh — and he had a habit of grabbing at Buck’s thigh when he sat beside him — need to do something with my hands — and use any opportunity to sing his praises — now Buck he’s a damn good pilot; he’s a fighter pilot who happens to fly a bus. Buck had gotten shot down in enemy territory and Bucky had commanded an entire flight plan in order to follow him.

But Buck — he was the one who couldn’t be without John. Who saved him the seat beside him at every table and saved his rarest smiles for John because they made him feel special. It was Buck who saw the Air Exec post was killing him and requested he be demoted. Buck had paced the entirety of the camp and was led to his bunk with a rifle to his back every night until John arrived.

He had been glad when John arrived because then he wasn’t alone. Then Buck had John.

And John would have never wished for Buck to be in the Stalag if the roles were reversed; he would have been shot down in an attempt to keep him from entering the gates.

John was selfless with his love for Buck; Gale’s love for Bucky is selfish.

Always told you to take better care of that heart, Gale says. He had said it in regard to the skirts he chased and to the boys he led and he had said it the first day they met when Bucky handed his heart to his namesake.

I wouldn’t do anything different, John returns. I had a good run of it. How are my girls?

Buck thinks of Jo and Annie and Katie and how he hadn’t bothered to call or check on them and recoils in shame.

How was the first week of school, John asks instead.

Buck stutters then tells him of how upset his oldest had gotten when Uncle Bucky never arrived.

She’s gonna be a tough one, John smirks. She’ll be fine, I left her with some tips on how to deal with any mean bastards.

Bucky, he warns.

Bucky shrugs.

Call Jo will ya? Annie was giving her a hard time, she’s at that age. Tell ‘er the tickets to the pony show are inside my shirt drawer, Gale gives him an eyebrow raise and Bucky shrugs again, The girls wanted to see unicorns so. That’s what I got. The unicorn’s cousin.

You’re ridiculous.

Call Jo ya hear me?

I hear you, Bucky. I promise.

Good, Bucky relaxes back to continue watching. It should be criminal for mass destruction to create such beautiful colors. And book a flight down there too. I need you to pick up my lucky deuce. The Yankee’s luck needs a Buck.

Gale shakes his head, Aw hell, John. But he’s smiling through the demands.

That’s the way it has been since the day they met.

Buck, tie my shoe.

Buck, help me fly this plane.

Buck, fix the collar of my jacket.

Buck, help me trim my mustache. Can't get it straight.

Buck was given Bucky’s name and a list of demands but all they did was help him feel enough.

Buck would be enough.

Thanks for visitin’, John says. Get more rest, it’ll give us time to catch up.

All I do is sleep, Gale admits, disappointed. He thinks of his wife’s sad eyes every time she sees him in bed.

Nah. You close your eyes but you don’t sleep.

Benny gave me pills, Gale admits. Took one tonight and then I wished on a shooting star.

Bucky clucks his tongue, You get back and you flush ‘em. And I’m gonna stop by Benny’s tonight and yank him from his bed.

Gale rolls his eyes. Don’t do that. I’ll flush them.

You don’t need no shooting star or funny pills, Gale, John says. All you gotta do is ask me to come and I’ll be here.

Buck settles back against the wall and allows the silence to envelop them.

-

It’s Sunday nine a.m, Gale’s eyes have only open and Bucky’s still dead,

Gale wakes, gets ready for the day, and calls Jo.

[guerrerense]

L-R: TE2 diesel, the O, L and LV types of the steam engines on exposition in the Russian Railways museum at St Petersburg por Cetus13 Por Flickr: The "O" (О) class engine of Russian/Soviet railways was the first basic / standard (that mentioned in the name – Osnovnoy) 0-8-0 class locomotive designed in Russian Empire. It was was produced in great quantity by 12 plants of three countries (Russia, Germany and Austria-Hungary) with 9129 produced from 1890 until 1928 yy. It was the first Russian engine that obtained perspective compaund steam machine (in variant of the cross compaund - note the difference of cilinders on each side). Surprisingly, the fuel consumption exceeded that of the previous type Ch of the same 0-8-0 class having simple steam machine so during all production time many attempts to reduce excessive fuel consumption were made. On the other side, the general simplicity, fuel versatility and low axle load (13-14 t) with strong frame made it great for any railways. In addition, the low weight with high power (550-720 hp) was good for armory so it was standard locomotive for armored trains of Red army. The L type of Soviet freight steam locomotives 2200 hp of 2-10-0 class with maximum speed 85 km/h (53 mph) and tractive effort 271.5 kN (61,040 lbf) were developed during WW2 on the Kolomna Locomotive works under supervision of famous designer L.C. Lebedyanski (P type were renamed to L in the honor of the constructor). They were produced from 1945 to 1955 yy in Russia by the Kolomna Locomotive Works (##0001-1000 and 1501-2385) and Bryansk Machine-Building Plant (##1001-1389), also in Soviet Ukraine on the Voroshilovgrad Locomotive works (##4001-5307) with total production 4199 ones. LV locomotive of the 2-10-2 class was the last and more powered variant of L class developed to 1949 y which boiler was increased and frame hardened - general frame elongation and increased weight needed addition of the trailing wheel. The fuel efficiency was the highest but the time of steam engines was going to end so only 522 was built from 1952 to 1956. Also the structural length of LV with original tender equipped with 3-axle bogies was excessive for many railways and turntables so some were used with shorter 8-wheel tender (as seen in the museum).