#especially in stewarding

[this-is-my-main-i-follow-from]

I'm not jewish but jewish people have some of the best words around. Mazel Tov? Incredible. Jewish people I love you.

[coatl-cuddles]

I think it would be very cool if Hopeful Steward's cape laid flat like ribbons when calm, but fluttered out and acted like dragon fly wings when flying because they look lame as hell otherwise

[awkwardrocker]

The funniest part about George's meltdown today is that it was wholly unnecessary.

All he had to do was come out today and go, "I said my side of the story in the stewards and obviously Max didn't take kindly to that but what's done is done and we'll move on."

But instead he tried to go scorched earth and it made him look so much worse.

[anghraine]

Most of us in Tolkien fandom (at least in these parts) have a profound affection for some passingly mentioned female character we know almost nothing about.

Today's for me: Rían of Gondor, daughter of the Steward Barahir, sister of the Steward Dior, and mother of the Steward Denethor I (not to be confused with Boromir and Faramir's father, Denethor II).

She's one of the few named Gondorian women, but we know even less about her than most. We don't know who her husband was. We don't know what she thought or felt or did with regard to anything. All we know is that, while not the Steward herself, she was the first woman the rule of Gondor had ever passed through.

The Stewards committed their rule like a kingship, father to eldest son, and it was the established position of Gondor that its rule couldn't pass through women (see Princess Fíriel!). Perhaps the Stewards or the Council of the time justified changing their policy through the absence of a technical king, but the Stewards received the powers of absent kings from day 1 and were described by Gandalf as more powerful than actual kings like Théoden. The Ruling Stewards passed the Stewardship in exactly the same way as the kings had passed the crown—until Rían and Denethor.

If their excuse was that they weren't really kings, it would be pretty transparently an excuse to let the rule of Gondor pass through a woman's lineage for the first time.

What part did Rían play in this? Did she have to fight to get the White Rod in Denethor's hands? Was she a voluntary participant in the whole thing at all? What was her relationship like with her brother Dior, who passed the Stewardship to her son? Her relationship with Denethor himself? What about the unnamed but presumably existent husband (a kind of fun reversal of the usual "implied but unnamed women," lol)?

I want to knowwww.

[arolesbianism]

Some more Steward doodles

[thekenobee]

Imagine Jack Aubrey having the absolutely worst, horrible, unheard of, unbearable hangover after one of his dinners with officers

[betterbemeta]

Star Trek Strange New Worlds S1E8

I know it was about Dr. M'Benga's struggle to let go of his daughter with a terminal illness and allow her to have closure/a sci-fi afterlife (?) but

Romjin and Navia playing Una and Ortegas as the Cool lady ranger and the battle-hungry lady knight??? Gooding as Uhura as the evil queen?? Peck as Spock, playing the evil wizard....

everyone looked very good. 👀

[7loveneverfails]

So my hubby and I are working toward buying the house we live in and I worked out the gap between what we pay now and what our mortgage is likely to be so we can try to cut expenses and grow our income the amount we need and it seemed like such a big gap.

I finally just sat back like, "God, this is You. Help us figure this out."

Between some random shifts that will lower one of our craziest bills, paying off a car and my hubby getting a huge raise, the gap is closed.

It's the random 30% raise that got me. Even without the bills lowering the raise would have done it. When I did the math, it's the precise amount we needed.

I also don't remember where on this, but at some point we upped our tithe cause it wasn't 10% so in faith, we upped it to the full 10%.

Not sure I put this into words well, but God is good. And it's good remember it's all His to begin with.

[or-did-i-dont-didnt-send-it]

i have no one to talk to irl about this race right now (everyone in the house has gone to sleep it’s 3am here) so im sorry in advance for dumping this on here but this is a warning for the tag vent(that i will definitely be deleting soon) because i love u all and care about your dash experience so if you don’t want to witness a disjointed minor breakdown look away lmao

[tossawary]

One of my personal nitpicks for historical fantasy is a lack of servants, staff, subordinates, and... idk... subjects? Like, their absence is not... a total dealbreaker for me, depending on the situations the characters are in and whether or not I can just assume that other people are there in the background... but so many of the protagonists in historical fantasy stuff are higher-ranking (very often royalty), and/or have busy jobs, and/or have enormous houses that would necessitate having at least part-time staff.

Like, girl, you should have a maid! WHERE is your chaperone?! WHO is driving this carriage?! Where are your footmen? Are you trying to imply that a WEALTHY DUCHESS is taking a CAB?! You know that you probably have tenants, right? Where is your steward?! Where is your lawyer? Your accountant?! (Like, yeah, you're not going to have your lawyer living in your house, but you HAVE one, right???)

Or, man, you're supposed to be a military commander and you don't even have a single secretary?! Where is your SQUIRE?! (In the spirit of historical fiction, I am jumping wildly across time periods with every sentence here.) Man, I know you aren't looking after your own boots. Where are your GUARDS?! Who set up this tent for you?! Who is looking after your horse?! Who is making and carrying the incredibly valuable maps people are recklessly stabbing daggers into?!

SOMEONE has to be scrubbing these floors and delivering the mail and cooking the meals and doing laundry, and they're probably all DIFFERENT people! My dentist has at least three different receptionists and we can't even get ONE for our court wizard here? A sorcerer's apprentice to take notes? Someone like Sherlock Holmes could get away with just having a housekeeper and taking taxis, sure, but your character is supposed to be a KING?! Why is he answering his own front door? He's going to get assassinated. His SERVANTS should have SERVANTS.

Like, yes, I understand that a lot of servants in certain places at certain times were supposed to make their labor invisible, but there have always been servants who still had to interact directly with the masters of the house?! Yeah, there are potentially really messy ethics here, class divisions are bullshit, but I don't think that completely ignoring the reality that humans have ALWAYS been doing work for other humans is better than just including some well-paid and well-treated servants and employees? Because a complete absence of them, especially where logically for the worldbuilding there MUST be servants (and probably exploited servants, or worse, for some particular worldbuilds to work), often makes me think that your main characters just don't care enough to notice the "lower class" people or know their names.

Also, even Frodo Baggins had a gardener and Samwise Gamgee might be the best damn character in the story?! Sam saved the world?! Servants are PEOPLE. Servants are often the funniest and most interesting characters, tbh, with the most to say about a society and its workings (yes, Discworld is a very good book series, highly recommend), and also the joke of some romantic scene being carefully orchestrated by a stage crew of servants frantically diving into bushes to stay out of sight never gets old to me. Teamwork makes the dream work!

I don't want to gatekeep historical fiction, especially not historical fantasy, because the worlds don't necessarily have to conform to our own and may have magic and characters are often in very unique circumstances, but... sometimes I pick up a story and it's like... "Author, please tell me that you know there is a difference between a butler and a valet?!"

[vexwerewolf]

Harrison Armory

I think a lot of people fundamentally misunderstand Harrison Armory, Lancer fans on Tumblr especially.

Harrison Armory is not Nazi Germany. Harrison Armory doesn't actually have an exact parallel on modern-day Earth, and it would be difficult to draw them without potentially insensitive implications.

I think the closest parallel I can draw is late-stage Obama-era America, with a lot of Nordic-style public investment and China's Social Credit system.

People depicting the Armory as a cold, grind-obsessed hypercapitalist nightmare are thinking of IPS-N. The Armory looks after its citizens, at least in as much as happy workers are productive workers. Even as a colonial subject, you can expect a decent standard of living simply because they don't answer solely to shareholders - for better or for worse, the Armory has a vision, an insistence upon the dignity of Humanity which wouldn't allow them to let you live in squalor. This is a cold, haughty kind of beneficence - they don't care about you per se, it's just that allowing you to suffer would reflect poorly on them.

You will get healthcare. You will get free, frequent public transit that you might not even need to use, since every city is walkable. You will get clean water, healthy food and safe streets. You will get frequent vacations and as many sick days as you need. No matter your ethnicity, birth gender, gender identity, religion, sexuality, physical or mental ability, the Armory has a place for you. The Armory does not discriminate.

The Armory is expansionist, for sure, but it chooses its new acquisitions carefully - Diasporan worlds under the thumb of ruthless dictators, repressive theocracies, avaricious hypercapitalist oligarchs. If you're a colonial subject, the Armory have likely liberated you from tyrants.

What do you give in return? Complete cultural obedience.

You will not cause a disturbance. You will not rock the boat. You will not question the benevolent system that gave you this abundance. The Armory gives you all the choices that really matter to someone like you: eat what you want, shop where you want, buy what you want - after all, every shop, every café, every restaurant is an Armory subsidiary, so whatever cuisine you favour, whatever brand of dataslate you prefer, the Armory is making back most of the salary they pay you. The Armory puts a roof over your head. The Armory protects you from the wolves at the door. The Armory even lets you vote on your local representatives (they've all got spotless Socials, so you know that no matter who you choose, they're loyal, attentive citizens). Are you not happy? Are you not grateful?

Show us. Show us you're grateful. Show up to the Foundation Day parade. Salute the statues of Harrisons I (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE), II (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) and III (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE). Recite the Pledge. Volunteer for the local Guard Corps - or better yet, the Colonial Legion. Don't you care about your community? Aren't you proud of your nation? Don't you want to give back? Aren't you a good citizen?

What's that? Dissent? You little shit! You ungrateful little worm! After all we've done for you, after all this Great Nation has sacrificed for you, you dare ask for more? Harrison I (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) sacrificed himself on Union's altar for us - for YOU! Harrison II (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) died refusing to bend the knee, refusing to sacrifice our freedom - YOUR LIBERTY! Harrison III (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) tours the Purview to see and hear your fellow countrymen and address their concerns, and you dare question his right to rule? The Steward Council is comprised of only his most trusted advisors - do you doubt their commitment to our values?

We live in the best and brightest era of human civilization, the problems of the past all behind us, and all you can think about is ways to drag us all down. You ungrateful, shiftless, lazy little bastard. You want me to call the local Social board? See how they feel about your profile? If you don't feel like the Armory is doing enough for you? Well, let's see how you like it when the Armory does nothing for you. You clearly don't have the spirit or the courage to be truly free.

Ugh, dissenters, am I right? Fuck, sorry about that, folks. Yeah, that was... intense! Anyway, let's not let that whole sordid ordeal ruin this party. Let's all just chill, take an edible, and celebrate what we came here to celebrate - the Colonial Legion incorporated its first all-trans Genghis brigade! What a win for progressivism, right? You'd never see that in the Trade Baronies! Praise the Director General! Long may he serve!

[coatl-cuddles]

PLEASE infodump to me, how do we know for a fact the skiddo in the trailers and concert is the prince? I am starved for Alef lore

💫 HAYYY~~~~ 💫

I will GLADLY info dump about my favorite sky kids!!

SPOILER WARNING FOR ANYONE WHO HASNT COMPLETED AURORA!

Obligatory nothing is absolutely confirmed in sky unless stated by creators since there's no dialogue. So lots of stuff is always up to interpretation.

Howeverrrr the likelihood of Alef being the sky kid we see is essentially 99.9%!!

So here we go!!!

First thing to note is that the spirit from isle and the concert is totally the same Sky Kid. And we can tell thanks to MAMA Spirit! Or well- the adoptive mama spirit! More specifically... the adoptive mama spirit who unfortunately dies :(

One of the FIRST spirits in the game is a feminine looking ancestor with a relatively high pony tail, who discovers a fallen sky child (likely to be Alef)! This occurs in the Isle of Dawn!

Then, in the concert, we get a similar looking spirit ( high ponytail ) who ALSO took in a sky child-- who dies tragically :( leaving the sky child orphaned and alone.

Granted it is a different body type!!! But considering the amount of retcons and redesigns of areas / updates to the game around this time I'll look past it for now. But regardless, ponytail stays the same.

And of course lastly is our mama from the trailers with our Dawn Ember :(

Who is also wearing a bag on her shoulders like the aurora spirit (you can see the rope strap!)- and who also tragically loses her life as confirmed by TGC during the anniversary livestream. This can be found when they state it's the tale of two ORPHANS... implying our Dawn Ember does not have a guardian. Or at least not anymore. (Which also implies our Dusk Ember/The Stewards parents who gave him the butterfly pendant ALSO die, but that's for another time)

Something to note is that Sky Kids and ancestors are NOT the same race. They are completely different. Ancestors do have children!! But Sky Kids are a separate thing.

And they're rare.

Very rare.

So rare in fact that it's heavily believed by the fandom that Alef/Resh was the FIRST sky kid.

So the likelihood of two different pony tailed ancestors (who live in the Isle of Dawn AND who die tragically) adopting a sky kid is SUPER UNLIKELY!

So that's how we vaguely know it's the SAME Sky kid. BUT!! Most importantly, we know the Sky Kid is Alef forrrrr kinda shallow reasons, but they hold water!!! So it counts!!!

Which is basically to sayyyy... Dawn Ember is wearing a baby version of King Resh's mask.

So like- not the most GROUND BREAKING lore reveal. But---

Like-

Yeah,

That's our favorite star prince right there!

Also the implication that he got the extra four points AFTER prophecy, explains why as a kid he only has the main 4 points at the top and sides. Plus he already has suspiciously placed "cracks" in his mask where the 4 other points will come out of. That's our baby boy for sure!!!

Obviously, this isn't concrete proof of tgc just going HEY that's Alef!

However, for a game with zero dialogue and the most complex game of charades ever, this is basically as good as it's gonna get when it comes to tying everything together!

Also his name is Dawn.

Dawn Ember. For isle of Dawn. Which took me until 5 minutes ago to realize.

Which explains a lot, because we've all been kinda side eyeing the names like why tf did they name Hopeful Steward the Dusk Ember. But, if they're naming them off of AREAS and not literally the day/night motif that makes sense. Especially since a ton of Dusk Embers trailer scenes seem to take place in Wasteland, which the devs call the Dusk area. Despite him probably being from prairie or aviary village.

So badabing badaboom that's our baby boy right there!!! 3 different ways. 3 different flavors!!! All for the sake of mama spirit dying. Tragic. But that's our boy alrighttttt yayyy!!!!!!!!

Watch me be totally 100% wrong and all the fanart make zero sense a couple months from now. BUT IM DYING ON THIS HILL (for now!)

🎉🎉 That's our Prince right there!! 🎉🎉

[rafeandonlyrafe]

general store

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, p in v sex, protected sex (for once! yaaay!), spanking (briefly), semi public sex, pogue!reader, reader is described as being 20, readers parents are dead, rafe being a playboy, hurricane aftermath

“dad, im not helping out at some fucking pogue shop!” rafe argues, yet his footsteps still follow ward towards the garage.

“everyone is doing their part, rafe.” ward sighs. “even wheezie is volunteering after the hurricane. come on, now.” 

wards tone silences rafe. it's the tone he uses when there's no way rafe is getting out of something. rafe gets into the passenger seat, grumbling to himself until his dad rounds the car.

“and you're going to be nice. it's a bad fucking look for our family not to go to the cut and assist.” rafe knows ward doesn't actually give a shit about helping anyone. it's all about their reputation, the camerons have to be the stewards of the island, the aspirational story of pogue turned king kook.

“alright, ill be helpful. promise.” rafe can put in one day of work. that's not what he minds. it's having to help pogues clean up their shit that's worthless to him.

“it's some general store. got pretty wrecked, but no structural damage.” ward explains coldly, talking about the damage suffered like it's something on television, not real life people.

despite wards warning, rafe let's out a low curse when the car pulls to a stop. it's in the rough part of what little area they call downtown, and he can tell just through the single unboarded window that the shop is a disaster.

he gives his dad one last pleading look before getting out.

“oh hey there!” you smile as rafe enters, the bell above the door ringing. “you must be rafe, im y/n.” you stick your hand out for him to shake. rafe does so slowly, eyes scanning over the shop before landing on you.

“how old are you?” rafe questions. he expected someone at least mid thirties.

“oh… im uh, 20. this is-was my parents store.” rafe sees the pain flash through your eyes and decides not to question it any further.

“so, what's first?” the shelves are practically empty, with everything on the floor.

“the hurricane door burst open and swept everything off the shelves.” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your forehead. you've clearly already been working, forehead slightly sheened with sweat, cheeks flushed. “im just focused on getting everything back on the shelves for now. throw out anything damaged but if it's food, we should try and salvage it.��

“what for?” he questions. you clearly have plenty, and rafe can see that only a couple cans are broken.

“the ones who had more issues than just a door blown in.” you state like it's obvious.

“shit, yeah.” rafe nods. you turn back towards your store, beginning to clean as rafe does the same, reading the labels on the shelves and then trying to sift through the mess to put everything back.

you work silently, rafe occasionally looking over to you, his eyes roaming down your body whenever you're turned away.

“so you run this place?” he questions after a while, taking a sip of a water you brought out for him.

“run it, work it, live above it.” you nod. 

“that's a lot for someone whose barely out of their teens.” rafe huffs out, barely out of his teens himself, only a few years older than you.

“some of us didn't have life handed to us on a golden platter.” you spit out, before shaking your head. “im sorry. you're here helping, its just… hard.”

“it's alright.” rafe waves it off, especially as you pull off your outer layer to reveal just a white tanktop, your light blue bra poking out the top. rafe fights the urge to pull the strap back and hear it snap against your skin.

“back to work.” you hum, looking at the clock. you were told rafe could help out until 6pm, and there's a couple jobs you need two hands for.

--

“thanks for helping out today.” you tell rafe, looking at the shop. it's mostly cleaned up, there's some additional deep cleaning you'll have to do, but it's in an acceptable state now to open tomorrow and allow the residents of the outer banks to buy cleaning supplies and food.

rafes eyes shift to the door, and then back to you. he moves quickly before he can think, before giving you a chance to react, one hand around your back tugging you close to him, the other squeezing your breast, his lips devouring yours in a hard kiss.

“w-wait-” you mutter, pushing rafe away slightly. “lock the door.”

rafe smirks, moving to turn the key, locking the door and anyone from entering the store, even though the sign was flipped to close.

rafe moves back towards you, pressing you back into the counter, lips teasing yours as his hands run over your body.

“th-the window.” you mutter. the sky was beginning to darken outside, and with all the shop lights on, it would soon turn into a glowing beckon in the dark for anyone to look into.

“sorry.” rafe just mumbles. he doesn't care about someone seeing you, not when he's been tempted by your tight tanktop and fitted leggings all day long. besides, rafe feels as if he needs a better thank you for helping you out.

rafe tugs your tanktop up, your chest moving up and down as your bra is revealed, just as good as rafe was imagining it, your tits almost spilling out, which rafe quickly works to get them all the way out, harshly tugging the cups down.

“we can go upstairs.” you whine out, even as your hands disappear under rafes shirt, feeling his muscles.

“nah, want you right here.” rafe has no interest in going up to your apartment or taking you in a proper bed as he turns you suddenly, flipping so you're facing the counter.

he pushes your shoulders forward, bare tits suddenly against the cold glass, making you cry out.

“gentle, please.” you whimper as rafe tears your leggings down along with your underwear, smiling when he spreads your legs to see your pussy is dripping wet.

“yeah, will be.” rafe reaches over to the shelves, grabbing a condom and opening it, glad that you had them in stock. no way he's risking getting a pogue pregnant, even if he does want you desperately.

rafe undoes his pants, only pushing them down his thighs enough to get his cock out. he's only half hard, so he leans forward, bending over your back as he rubs his cock over your ass until he's ready, slipping the condom quickly over his length.

“bet you're tight, huh?” he smirks, pressing against your hole. while rafe favors kooks, he isn't against fucking a hot pogue or touron on the occasion.

“fuck me and see.” you grunt out, glancing out the window, hoping to get this over with before the sun fully sets in the sky.

rafe pushes in suddenly with a moan as you grip onto the edge of the counter as rafe slams forward, your body pushing against the glass with every thrust, briefly worrying it will break with his intensity.

“fuck.” rafe gasps out, one hand wrapping around your hips to press down on your lower stomach, keeping you pulled close to him while the other hand gropes and plays with your ass, occasionally spanking the plump flesh.

“yeah, that's it baby.” rafe moans when your cunt clenches around him, his hand moving towards your clit to reward you for how tight you are squeezing him, finger stroking over your pussy.

“god, that's good.” you moan out. rafes fingertip is rough from the days work as he pushes his hips forward, big cock plunging into you.

“you like this kook cock, huh?” he smirks, listening to your moans, not able to hold them back any longer. he wonders if your neighbors can hear you being such a slut for him.

“y-yeah.” you nod, no point in denying it as your entire body shakes.

“gonna have to start buying my condoms from here.” rafe chuckles, looking around the store. it's not so bad now that it's cleaned up. “and using the first one on you.”

he rarely gets the urge to fuck anyone twice, but you're so tight around him, so willing as you start to push back to meet his thrusts, a loud slapping sound vibrating every time your skin comes together.

“close.” you warn, rafes finger moving faster, wanting to feel you clench around him, needing you to cum to get himself there.

your hard nipples slide over the cold glass, rafe rubbing your clit just right as his cock pushes in, your loud moan signaling your orgasm as you pussy pulses around rafes cock. he shoves his dick as far as your cunt lets him as he cums into the condom with a grunt.

you're both breathing heavily as rafe pulls out, tossing the condom in the overfilled trash can as he redoes his pants.

“come on, my dad will be by to pick me up soon.” rafe swats your bare ass, still on display as you slump over the counter.

your legs are shaking as you redress, just in time for rafe to unlock the door and let his father in.

“i hope my son was helpful?” he questions, looking around the store with an expression of approval.

“oh yes.” you nod, still slightly out of breath. “he was great.”

ward nods, saying goodbye to you before signaling rafe to follow him, who makes sure to turn back and give you a wink before leaving.

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[uniquexusposts]

A one-day friend - O. Piastri

Summary: Y/n and Oscar sit next to each other on a flight and get to know each other. Note: I know Oscar probably flies business or first class, but for the story he doesn't.

A small smile curved on Y/n her mouth when she looked out of the airplane window. She was leaving Europa behind. After a month of travelling through Germany, France, Switzerland and Italy, it was time to go home. Y/n was glad she finally could go home, but this trip made her realise how much she wanted to move to Europe, being free and away from home.

It was sunny outside, there were no clouds. Usually, Y/n flew on the worse times: in the night and in the bad weather. This was one of the first times she was able to have a look at the tiny countries. While looking at the view she got, her mind stopped working - in the right way. She finally cleared her mind. There was nothing she was thinking of. It was like meditating.

The entertainment system of the airplane was insanely good. There were a lot of films Y/n was planning on seeing but didn't have the chance to because...reasons. She was glad she had the time and was being able to watch the films now.

When the first film came to an end, Y/n planned on catching up with work. Her fingers touched the touch screen to look up the flight details. She tightened her jaw when her airplane neighbour was touching her arm. I get it, we don't have much space, but you are in my aura right now. Before she knew it, the head of her neighbour was softly falling on her shoulder. Y/n gently moved her head to see what exactly was going on. The man was asleep. Great. She closed her eyes and sighed, annoyed. 

There was an option to wake him up, but Y/n didn't want to. Maybe something was going on with him, and perhaps this was the first moment he could sleep? Or maybe he had anxiety? Or he just broke up? Or he was just tired? Y/n opened her eyes and looked at the screen again. She was being kind and let him sleep. Four more hours to go and a fantastic entertainment system. The option work wasn't an option anymore.

"Good evening, this is your captain speaking. In less than 20 minutes we will be arriving at Dubai International Airport. It is currently 21:45 and 30º degree celsius. On behalf of Emirates and the crew, thank you for flying Emirates, and hopefully, we will see you soon again," the captain spoke after a few hours.

Y/n stretched her legs and breathed deeply but gently in. The man was still sleeping with his head on her shoulder. It gave her two thoughts: he was a stranger, this was odd, and it wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. The cabin crew were walking through the plane to get all the garbage and inform the people to straighten their seats. The friendly steward asked if Y/n could wake up her partner. What partner?

She did what she was being asked and nudged the side of the man with her elbow. The man looked up, and his eyes widened. "We are about to land," she awkwardly smiled and pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Oh," he mumbled and looked confused around. "Thank you. And I'm sorry," he apologised. "Have I been asleep for the whole flight?"

"Yup."

"I'm sorry," the man said again.

Y/n looked at him. "It's alright," she told him. The look in her eyes was warm and friendly. The man felt sorry he might have made her flight uncomfortable. "They...erm...gave me the snacks. So..." She gave the man the two cups of water and some crackers.

"Right, thanks."

Maybe the best part of this flight was for the man, he was the one who got his sleep. Y/n, on the other hand... Sitting at the window seat is fantastic because you can look outside, but when having strangers next to you who are asleep...not ideal. Especially when you need to go to the bathroom. For those six hours, it was slightly subtle. But for the next flight, it would be hell. Why am I so helpful to people?

The plane landed safely and smoothly at Dubai International Airport. It was already dark and warm, but that didn't matter to Y/n. She needed to go to her transfer flight on the other side of the massive airport. There were two hours left to the next departure. Y/n was glad she could finally walk and stretch her legs properly. It was late in the evening, so there weren't many people around the airport anymore. She didn't mind, within 30 min she was at the right gate. It gave her the time to look around at the duty-free stores. It was the same as the airports in Europe, so there weren't many new things to see.

Even though it wasn't new, Y/n found a manner to almost miss her flight. And you know when you are a national embarrassment when they have you call your name through the speakers of the airport. But she wasn't the only one, more people were invited. Y/n made her way to the gate and showed her ticket.

"You are right on time, Miss Y/l/n," the Qantas Airline employee said.

Y/n politely smiled and walked towards the airplane. Fourteen more hours to and we are reaching the next destination: Melbourne. She ran her hand through her hair and stepped into the aircraft. The friendly crew welcomed Y/n and guided her to her seat.

"Thanks," Y/n thanked the woman and smiled.

Window seat, again.

She looked at the people who were sitting next to her. A woman and a man, but one of them was the man who slept next to her on the flight to Dubai. Her eyes widened, and she parted her lips. They both stood up to let Y/n take place on her own seat.

"Well, this is awkward," the man said and looked at Y/n. Y/n fastened her seatbelt and made herself comfortable for how comfortable an economy seat could be. "Next time, just wake me up."

What are the coincidences this is actually happening?

"I will," Y/n shortly said.

"I'm Oscar," the man introduced himself and stuck out his hand.

"Y/n." She grabbed his hand and softly squeezed in it.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n."

He was polite. "Nice to meet you too, Oscar." 

--

"This is actually the first time I have seen this film," Oscar said when 'Bohemian Rhapsody' ended.

Y/n raised her eyebrows and looked surprised at him. "You serious?" Oscar slowly nodded. "You seriously have something missed during those years. I'm glad I made you watch it."

The fourteen-hour flight was surprisingly good and fun. Oscar was a kind man, after all. They talked a bit and watched a few films together. Y/n wasn't able to sleep, she couldn't sleep on the plane, and Oscar already had his sleep from the previous flight.

Oscar smirked. "You got me," he said and stretched his arms above his head. "Four more hours to go." Y/n took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm going for a walk. Maybe you should go too."

He was right; having a walk through the plane - it probably wasn't more than 150 metres if you walked to the back of the plane and back, but it was a walk to stretch the legs on this long flight. Oscar asked the unknown woman, who was sitting on his other side if she could stand up. Oscar and Y/n got up and walked to the back of the plane.

"This is just so awkward," Y/n said. "All those people who are looking at you, yikes."

Oscar smirked and looked behind him at Y/n. "You must do something for it, Y/n."

When they arrived at the back of the plane, Y/n had no idea what she saw. There was a small bar, there were bowls filled with fruit and biscuits. She looked at Oscar, and a happy smile grew on her lips.

"See, the back of the planes are the best. Not many people know this, but this is for us, the economy section. This is another reason why you should go for a walk in the plan: drinks and food," he told her and grabbed an apple and a biscuit.

"Wow, what an invention. Brilliant," Y/n spoke and grabbed an apple as well. It felt good to walk around. Sitting on an airplane seat for several hours was awful; the little space, the many people in your aura and not being able to stretch your legs as you want to. "I will keep this in my mind. I seriously had no idea this actually was on a plane."

"Perks of a frequent flyer," he winked.

"I am too," she smirked. "But I had no idea."

"Oh."

The last four hours went by, and they landed safely on the Australian ground again. Y/n was glad she wasn't alone after all. Flying with someone on your side is a lot better than flying alone. They had talked a lot about regular stuff, like politics, the news and that kind of stuff. They left the plane and walked both towards the exit of the airport.

Y/n read the signs on the board and looked around. "I have to go to my next flight," she mentioned Oscar and stopped walking. His smile softened and looked disappointed at her. It was almost sad to see him like that like he hoped Y/n would go to Melbourne as well. "So..."

"Where do you have to go?" He asked curiously.

"Sydney," she answered and pressed her lips into a thin line. "Thanks for the great company, it absolutely made it all better," she smiled.

He nodded and gave her a small smile, he surely was disappointed to leave her behind. "Give me your phone." He had to deal with this situation quickly, as the intercom called for the flight was about to board to Sydney. Y/n squeezed her eyebrows together and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. "I really enjoyed this flight, I wish every flight was just as joyful as this one. Text me when you are home, okay?"

Is this his smooth way for asking my number? To keep in touch with me? "I will."

Y/n put her phone back in her pocket and gave him a warm but exhausted smile. An hour and thirty more hours to go, and she was home. People from their flight passed them, some were annoyed, some were happy to arrive at their home base.

"I really have to go," she said and slowly walked away. "Thanks again!"

Oscar parted his lips and knew he needed to say something. "You can 'accidentally' miss your flight so I can take you out on a coffee!"

Y/n looked at him and lowered her eyebrows while a cheeky smile curved on her lips. "Safe trip home, Oscar," she chuckled.

"It was worth a shot," Oscar said loudly and pointed at her. It made her laugh. "Have a good flight, Y/n!" He showed one of his best smiles and winked.

Y/n bit her lip and turned around while she walked away. A small smile played on her lips. It was just a friend on the plane. Sometimes you have friends for a short time because you are in the same situation. This is a situation like that. But this oddly felt more than just a friend.

No Y/n, just a one day-friend, great company on the flight, maybe a little bit too much coincidence, but a one day-friend.

Her eyes fell on the dark airport. There were lights of a landing plane, the runway and...and the ugly self-reflection of herself in the windows. A sigh left her mouth, and she went to the gate of her last flight.

[tyrannosaurus-maxy]

Here is everything that every driver has said about the Max-Lando contact in Austria 2024:

Nico did take the time to look at the incident again. 'Verstappen didn't swerve towards Lando and he also left Norris a car width of space. And on the left there was a kerb and a large run-off zone, no wall. I think the stewards have intervened quite a bit in Austria, more than usual and maybe a little too much even,' the German concludes.

Yuki also does not think Verstappen's action in Spielberg was too harsh and explains: "To be honest, everyone does that." The world champion did not drive dangerously and it was not "moving under braking." It is completely normal to put "a little pressure" on the other driver and not let him overtake voluntarily. And contact can sometimes occur, says Tsunoda. He also believes that there would have been no penalty if there had not been contact in the same situation. "That's part of racing," says the Japanese driver.

Lando himself said: "Honestly, I don't think he needed to apologise. Some of the things I said in the pen after the race were more just because I was frustrated at the time, a lot of adrenaline, a lot of emotions and I probably said some things I didn't necessarily believe in, especially later on in the week.

Daniel said: “I think the contact, that can happen probably nine times out of 10 with no consequence... But I think the outcome was bigger than probably what was actually happening on track. From what I saw, at least nothing seemed over the top. Was it pushing the edge? Probably. But was anything dangerous or reckless? At least from what I've seen, no.”

George said: "Max will push the rules to the limits…as most of the top drivers do!"

Kevin said: "Max paid the price already by having a puncture. So I think some of the things they should just let the drivers sort it out in a natural way, it works out in other racing series very well, IndyCar, Sportscars and in the US, they have that approach and it works out well. The racing is tough over there, everyone understands the rules and it's more simple."

Checo said: "I think Max pushes every single bit to the limit as many top drivers do and when you're racing him it's gonna be a hard and fair battles."

Alex said: “the reality of it was just pure racing, hard racing” between the two drivers. It’s aggressive racing but I think it’s blown out of proportion, in my opinion. "If there's no contact being made then it's very often not talked about. [...] When i saw the the actual incident itself, to me it was just a racing incident. Lando went for that space on the outside, Max thought there was enough space for Lando to go. On paper, there was, but the way that Lando attacked the outside line and went so aggressively to it, you can't move that much in that position. You're kind of stuck in a straight line just because if you turn out the way, you'll end up locking up. So, yeah, it's a racing incident," Albon said. "Because they made contact, no [it wasn't harsh]. [But] if I was Max, I'd be upset if I had a penalty for that."

Charles said: "For me, it was an incident that both could have avoided. I also squeezed Max Verstappen onto the curb in 2022. I know Max’s driving style and how he battles very well because I started racing against him in 2010. I think he’s the driver I know the most and know best"

Honourable mentions to Esteban and Lewis for saying: leave me out of it

[foldingfittedsheets]

My friend Alex decided to “do a violence” to Tumblr by sharing a real actual recipe for squirrel soup out of The Whitehouse Cookbook. If you’re curious like I was it was written by a steward for the White House in 1887

The passage above reads thusly:

Squirrel Soup

Wash and quarter three to four good sized squirrels; put them on, with a small tablespoon of salt, directly after breakfast, in a gallon of cold water. Cover the pot close, and set it on the back part of the stove to simmer gently, not boil. Add vegetables just the same as you do in case of other meat soups in the summer season, but especially good will you find corn, Irish potatoes, tomatoes and Lima beans. Strain the soup through a coarse colander when the meat has boiled to shreds, so as to get rid of the squirrels' troublesome little bones. Then return to pot, and after boiling a while longer, thicken with a piece of butter rubbed in flour, Celery and parsley leaves chopped up are also considered an improvement by many. Toast two slices of bread, cut them into dice one-half inch square, fry them in butter, put them into the bottom of your tureen, and then pour the soup boiling hot upon them. Very good.