#world best tipper

[cbtfarnav9]

Identifying the World's Best Cricket Tipster and Expert.

Discover the top cricket tipper in the world, a trusted source of expert advice for successful cricket predictions and bets.

best cricket tipper in world

[runaeveena]

i give you the band of brothers character iceberg inspired by [x]

full detailing under the cut

Tier 1, signified by a stock image photo of an old man sitting on a bench with the words "Why don't you watch some TV with your ol' peepaw?" next to him.

- Winters, Nixon, Speirs, Compton, Luz, Lipton, Sobel, Roe

- this is the most basic tier. these are the characters your stepdad in the military remembers from watching the show after his tour or what your high school history teacher knows. hell this is what jimmy fallon remembers from the show.

Tier 2, signified by a screenshot of two 10+ old youtube videos entitled "Band of Brothers Funniest Moments"

- Guarnere, Webster, Malarkey, Liegbott, Toye, Randleman, Heffron, Blithe, Perconte

- this tier shows youve seen the show more than once, also best characterized by my college friend who would show me these videos as soon as i mentioned i liked bob despite the fact that he didnt actually know anything about world war two

Tier 3, signified by a tweet found here that basically makes fun of the current 101st Airborne

- Muck, Talbert, Dike, Grant, Sisk, Wynn, Sink, Powers, Hoobler, Welsh, Spina, Garcia, Penkala, Hall

- this is entering true fandom territory. youve seen the show more than five times or interact with enough bob content to pick up other characters. or youre an obsessed military official who uses bob as propaganda to stir up the current airborne infantry

Tier 4, signified by a screenshot of the Band of Brothers reddit tag

- O'Keefe, Tipper, Meehan, Cobb, More, Heyliger, Janovec, Gordon, Evans, Strayer, Christenson, Peacock, Miller, Hashey

- you are actually genuinely unfortunately a deep fan of this show and you are forever marked

Tier 5, signified by the tumblr tag #hbo war

- Ramirez, Alley, Vest, McClung, Shames, Dukeman, Van Klinken, Julian, Lorraine, Plesha, Petty

- hi girlies ;)

Tier 6 and 7, signified by the front page of the Band of Brothers fandom wiki page

- Smith Jr., Zielinski, Lesniewksi

- Boyle, Rodgers, Mellet

- as stated in my little notes, if you're an admin for the bob fandom wikia you have more power than anyone in the world like the level of imdb searching this requires is more harrowing than actual war

Tier 8, signified by a screenshot of the Stephen E. Ambrose Austria tours with Band of Brothers casts, a screenshot of Matthew Leitch's reunion youtube with other actors, and the Dead Eyes Podcast cover

- the other Zielinski

- you know way to much to be a weird fan

Tier 9, signified by a stock image of a pile of books

- Burr Smith

- you are a scholar

[presidentbungus]

i think demo's the best tipper ever btw. spent his whole childhood working slightly illegal part-time jobs and most of his adulthood angsting over how little good he'd actually contributed to the world so the least he can do with all those gigantic piles of money he eventually worked up to is spread some of it to every service sector worker he sees. his waitress at a breakfast restaurant gets a $200 tip for the $4 breakfast burrito he instantly inhaled. he surreptitiously slides a few hundreds into the pocket of the hardware store employee who helped him find something and then refused his money. the warty kid working the counter of his favorite liquor store watches him drop anywhere from 50 to 4000 dollars in the tip jar every time he comes in. it's the least he can do, really, and what else is he gonna do with the money? grabs your shoulders do you understand me

[tuiccim]

Wrecked (Part 4)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle, smut

Summary: When Frank Castle found his way to your small town bar, you thought you had finally found your Alpha despite being a "wrecked omega" but when his best friend, Billy Russo, blows through town, your world tilts on its axis. You thought you found your happy ending but was it just more wreckage for your life?

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader and hype princess, @whisperlullaby

Wrecked Masterlist

You danced around Billy for the rest of the day. He always seemed to find a way to touch you or at the least, be within reach, and always solicitous. It hadn’t taken you long to realize your folly that morning. He was testing you, making sure you were loyal to his friend. Part of you wondered if Frank had put him up to it. Was he trying to find a reason to break it off with you? Did he regret his commitment to mate you? You hated the thoughts that continuously ran through your head. You jerk your head, trying to make the ugly thoughts go away. Would you ever find any peace from your own self-doubt?

“You okay, gorgeous?” Billy asks as he studies you from across the kitchen counter. 

“Fine,” you say, not making eye contact. 

“What time do you have to be at the bar?” he asks. 

“I’ve got to go get ready now. Are you guys coming by?” You look at Frank for the answer. 

“Nah,” Frank says. 

“Of course,” Billy’s answers simultaneously. 

“Okay, well, either way, I’ll see you guys later,” you retreat to your room to change. You wished you had a moment alone with Frank to ask him what was going on with him, but he seemed content to keep you at arms length. It was as you were driving that another explanation crossed your mind. What if Billy brought back memories of Frank’s mate, Maria? He had known her and Frank’s children. The thought made you sad and you wondered if you had jumped to conclusions about Frank’s remoteness. You resolved to talk to him about it tonight after close.  

Saturday night at any bar is busy and you were glad your other bartender was here. You really needed to find another hand, if only to give you a couple nights off a week. You usually take Mondays off but you'd been called in several times lately. You loved the bar but everyone needs a break sometimes. You hadn't taken a vacation since you bought it. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts as a group bustles in through the door. Without them even making it across the floor, you get a pitcher going and gather glasses. They were regulars on Saturday nights. The group bought a few pitchers, played pool on one of the three tables, and were decent tippers. The leader of their group, Dane, came by to drop his card for the tab and grabbed the drinks. He was an Alpha and paid little attention to you outside of ordering and paying. Just how you liked them to behave. 

You were surprised when Frank and Billy actually showed. After their awkward exchange earlier, you assumed they wouldn't bother. Billy was all smiles as he approached and you set their drinks at two open spaces at the end of the bar. 

"Thanks," Frank said softly with a gentle look. It warmed your heart and you gave him a genuine smile. He looked in your eyes for what felt like the first time in days, though it had only been hours. 

"How's the night going?" Billy asks. 

"It's been busy but nothing we can't handle," you nod. 

"Can I get another?" A patron calls. 

"I'll check on you guys in a bit," you smile as you get back to work. 

The next hour goes by in a blur as customers come and go. You rarely have a moment to breathe and do little but refill glasses. The music was playing loudly and there was a commotion at one of the tables that calmed down with Jordan's quick work. It was a great night business-wise and everyone was having a good time. You had finally made it back over to the guys when, out of nowhere, the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your shoulders tensed as you glanced around. 

"What is it?" Billy looked around before looking back at you. 

"I don't know..." your eyes continue to scan. 

"You probably just caught a chill," Frank attempts to reassure you. 

"Um,yeah... probably," you say softly. 

"I don't think so, Frankie," Billy disagrees. "Your face went white, gorgeous. Something set you off."

Frank glances around and shrugs, "Everything's fine. Relax. I'm gonna hit the head."

Taking a deep breath, you pour Billy another drink with a small smile, appreciative of his understanding. You glance up to check on the group at the pool table and see their pitcher getting low. You head that way to ask if they want another or to close out. Halfway there, you stop dead in your tracks when you make eye contact with a late arrival to the group. The Alpha that attacked you gave a sinister smile before lifting his glass. You look towards Jordan but he's dealing with a couple of young looking guys at the door. A hand grips your arm and you gasp, twisting to see Billy. A laugh rings out from your attacker's direction and your gut clenches. 

"It-it's him," you breathe out, frozen in place as your anger builds. 

"Who?" Billy looks and immediately knows. His hackles raise as he locks eyes, a challenge clear in the other Alpha's eyes. 

"He attacked me. Frank stopped him. He can't be here," you set off to face your attacker but Billy catches you.

"Hey, Let me handle it," Billy says. 

"It's my bar. I can handle it,"  you say confidently. 

"But you don't have to. Let me do this for you," Billy argues.

"No, I need to do this. I can stand up on my own," you pull away but, letting go of a little of your pride, you turn back to him, "But you can back me up." As you walk, you catch Jordan's eye and motion for him to join you. You approach the Alpha with them flanking you. "I'm only going to say this once, leave now."

"Brought your posse, huh?  Where's your hero with the crowbar? Couldn't hold on to him? He didn't want the broken Omega?" He says, darkly. 

"He's right behind you," Frank's gruff voice is accompanied by the sound of a pool stick taking out your attacker's knees.

"What the fuck?" Dane yells, seeing his friend being attacked. 

Frank stops him with the pool stick, "You don't want in on this."

"What is going on?" Dane looks at you for an answer.

"Last time he was here, I cut him off. After close, he attacked me by my car. He's not welcome here," you explain plainly. 

"Did he hurt you?" Dane asks.

"Nah, I hurt him," Frank grouses.

"Is that when you were in that 'car wreck', Matt?" Dane looks at his friend. 

"No. Back me up here, man!" Matt yells. 

Dane looks between Frank, Billy, and Jordan and shakes his head, "I'm good. Uh, when you're done here another round would be great."

"Sure, Dane." You look at the guys, "Get him out of my bar. Feel free to remind him why he's not welcome."

"We've got this," Billy stops Jordan from joining them. The dark smiles Frank and Billy exchange are enough to make your insides quell. Matt would be shitting his pants before the night was over. 

You grabbed the pitcher and flounced back to the bar as if nothing had happened, secure in the knowledge that he'd never show his face here again. His audacity was mind boggling. 

You settle back into the swing of things and finish off the night. Just as you were yelling last call, Billy and Frank come in with bruised knuckles. You pour them each a drink with a grateful smile. 

"Thanks for delivering the message," you wink. 

Frank smiles as he raises his glass, "Anytime."

You glance down at Billy's split knuckles, "Need some ice? Or a bandaid?"

"Nah, gorgeous," he licks the wound and takes a drink while staring at you. 

You don't know why but it was hot as fuck. Your mind immediately went to it doing other things and you have to swiftly shift your attention. You pour yourself a hit of whiskey, a rarity for you, but necessary to help you through these strange feelings coursing through you. 

“You okay, babe?” Frank eyes you. 

“Just a little keyed up,” you say, dismissively. 

“Sounds like you need an outlet,” Billy gives you a rakish look. 

Deciding to play his little game, you lean on the bar suggestively, “Any suggestions?”

Billy’s eyes betrayed him in that moment. Want was obvious but a moment of vulnerability flashed. He recovered quickly to send a smirk Frank’s way, “You’ve got a firecracker on your hands, Frankie.”

“She gets in her moods,” Frank cracks.

You raise an eyebrow at the comment but before you can reply, Dane walks up to close out his tab. He leaves a big tip and looks at Frank, “He still alive?”

“He was when we left him,” Billy says with a cagey shrug.

“He’s only in town a couple of times a year but once his dad hears about this, he won’t be back. Sorry for the trouble. Won’t happen again,” Dane nods to you as if sealing a deal. 

“Thanks. See ya next Saturday,” you say to assure his welcome to return. 

“Alright, let’s head out, Bill. Jordan, you’ll make sure she gets to her car?” Frank drains his glass.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” Jordan says nervously. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll stay with her,” Billy states. 

“Wha- No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” you retort. 

“I’d feel better if you weren’t alone,” Billy says sternly.

“Jordan will be here,” you argue. 

“She’s good, Bill. Let’s go,” Frank jerks his head toward the door. 

“You go ahead,” Billy says coldly. “I’m staying.”

“You always were a stubborn bastard,” Frank laughs, shaking his head. 

“Always,” Billy says dismissively. 

You clench your jaw in frustration but turn away to finish off the night. It was as if time sped up to leave you alone with Billy. The bar emptied quickly, the staff cleaned in record time, and before you realized it, Billy had told Jordan to head to his apartment. Taking the cash to the back room, you crouch down to lock it in the safe. It was the only way to put some distance between the two of you. His intent to get you alone was obvious to you and you wanted to get into the car quickly to limit it. What you didn’t expect was for him to be right behind you when you stood up from locking the safe. 

Gasping, you growl out, “Damn Marines and their fucking silent steps!”

Billy chuckles as he closes the little distance between you. 

“Don’t,” you put a hand up to stop him. 

“We need to finish our conversation from this morning,” Billy intimates. 

“The one where you tried to seduce your best friend’s Omega?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Were you testing me? Is this some sick game you play? Or did Frank put you up to it so he has a reason to dump me?” You practically spit the accusations. All of your anxiety and fears come to the surface with them. 

A muscle ticked in Billy’s clenched jaw. His dark eyes bore into yours as he leaned in closer. You stand your ground but you’d be lying if you said your insides didn’t quiver. His scent was suddenly more intense and you knew you had struck a nerve. His hand lashed out to grasp you by the throat and pull your face close to his. You wrap your hands around his wrist as your eyes widen. You should be scared, afraid of what this Alpha may do to you but you find yourself aroused by his reaction. Your thighs clench and heat pools in your belly despite you fighting these feelings. He takes a deep breath, pulling your scent in before speaking, “I don’t play games with other men’s Omegas. I don’t mess with Omegas at all, generally. But, I do go after what I want and from the moment I stepped in this damn bar yesterday, all I can think of doing is marking you as mine,” he growls.

“Why?” You ask, staring at him pleadingly, desperate for an answer. Mainly because you felt the same way. Your mind and body were screaming out for him. It was insanity, a delusion. It had to be. A reaction to agreeing to be mated. A seven month itch, fuck, it had to be something because whatever else it was, it was wrong.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it but I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone,” he whispers. 

“I’m Frank’s,” you reply quietly. 

“Funny,” Billy says, trailing his fingers over the scent gland on your neck and sending a shiver through you, “I don’t see a claiming mark. You’re with Frank, you’re not his. Not yet… He won’t stay. He can’t. Even if he does mate you, he won’t stay.”

Those words broke whatever spell Billy was able to put over you and you felt the anger claw its way into you, “And you will?”

Billy’s lips part but nothing comes out. 

“Exactly,” You push him away. You grab your keys from the desk and flick the lights off as you exit the back room, “Let’s go.” 

You walk away without a backwards glance. Shutting everything down as you go, you make it to your car and slip in without him bothering to say anything more. Frank had told you Billy was known for going through the Omegas but you were kicking yourself for falling for his soulful shit again. Yes, you were attracted to him but he was just passing through town and no matter how much you wanted to give in, it would be stupid to lose Frank for nothing more than a quick fuck. You rode in silence to the cabin. Your anger and frustration were too intense to allow you to speak and Billy was similarly stoic. 

As soon as you were inside, you went to shower, feeling as if all you could smell was Billy on your skin. You ran the water hotter than normal and scrubbed your skin of any smell from him or the bar. When you entered the bedroom, Frank stirred, woken by the light from the bathroom. 

“Everything okay?” Frank asks, squinting. 

“No,” you say as you get on the bed. 

“What’s the matter?” 

You pull the blankets down and straddle his naked body. Kissing him hard, you pull back just long enough to whisper, “I need you.”

His arms go around you immediately and his mouth opens to kiss you more thoroughly. You reach down to pump his cock until it’s hard enough for you to slip it inside. Your walls clench around him. Breaking the kiss, you sit up to work your hips more quickly, allowing him to fill you more. 

“Jesus, babe, what’s gotten into you?” Frank moans as his hands cover your breasts to knead. 

“Fuck, needed this cock in me. Needed it stretching me out like only you can,” you answer, throwing your head back to let out a moan. 

“Quiet, babe. Billy will hear us,” Frank chuckles, sitting up and trying to pull you to him for a kiss. 

You push him back down forcefully and ride him harder, “Then he’ll know just how good you fuck me.” Your anger returns as you ride him. Anger at Billy for his very presence, anger at Frank for making you feel he always had one foot out the door, anger at your family for making you feel less than, anger at society that considered you nothing but a wreck. You rode all those feelings out on Frank’s cock and when that wasn’t enough you dug your nails into his pecs until he grimaced. You drag them down his chest leaving angry red marks, making Frank roar as he grabs you and throws you under him. He thrusts as hard as possible, driving impossibly deep, and forcing a cry from your throat. He doesn’t relent, pounding into you harder than he ever has, enough that you know your thighs will be bruised. You lose yourself in it, allowing your mouth to fall open and release moans and cries with no regard to who hears. When you come, your body bows and you release a full-throated scream. 

You lay like a ragdoll, completely spent and grateful for the release but Frank isn’t finished with you. Pulling out, he grabs your leg and flips you over. He pulls you up onto your knees and slams into you repeatedly from behind, grunting as he uses his hands to pull you back against him. Your skin slaps obscenely and you can do little more than curl your hands into the sheets as he fucks into you. When his hand lands a punishing slap on your ass, you cry out again. 

“Don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you tonight, but don’t worry, babe, I’m gonna fuck it out of you,” Frank growls as he continues his delicious assault on your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, your eyes rolling back in your head as another orgasm slams through you. 

“That’s right. Let it out, fuck,” Frank pulls out of you and you collapse on the bed. Turning you on your back, Frank pulls one of your legs across the other and enters you again. You're twisted in half, breasts and face where he can see them, but your ass is still displayed as he fucks you. He grasps your thigh as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. “Play with them. I wanna watch you,” Frank brings your hand up to your breast. 

You pinch your nipples, twisting and flicking as he watches. His hips drive into you steadily and his thumb makes circles around your clit. Your orgasm creeps up on you, your attention on your breast but your body suddenly spasms and you let out a high pitched moan. It comes in waves and you clench down on Frank with each one. 

“Frankie, baby, please. I need you to fill me up,” you whine, exhausted.

“You want me to fill you up, you’re gonna have to work for it,” Frank grunts, pulling you up. He positions you on top of him in reverse cowgirl. “Ride me like you did the other night and maybe I’ll give it to you. Move that ass,” he says as he delivers another punishing smack to your ass cheek. 

“Oh,” you squeal as you begin to move. You’re so tired but you put all of your remaining energy into bouncing on his cock. You stick your ass out, giving him the full view. He licks his lips as he watches your dripping cunt swallow his cock. He grabs handfuls, delivers alternating smacks, and smears slick from your cunt to play around your tight, little asshole. 

“Play with your clit. I want to feel you come around my cock one more time,” Frank demands.

“I… I don’t think I can,” you whimper. 

“I ain’t coming until you come, ‘mega. I suggest you get to work,” he flexes his hips up into you to emphasize his words. 

You circle your clit, searching desperately for that toe curling feeling. You reposition your hips to allow his cock to hit your g spot a little better and begin making shorter strokes. You find it and ride it out, begging your body to give you just one more. When you felt yourself teetering on that precipice, you whined until the spasms hit. Your hips moved in jerky motions as the orgasm made your legs shake uncontrollably. 

Frank’s deep voice groans, “Oh, yeah, fuck. That’s it. Fuck.” 

You feel his knot lock in place and you sob as pleasure rolls through you. Frank rolls you to your side while you’re still connected. His big hand caresses your cheek before resting it on the back of your head. 

“That’s what you needed, huh? Just needed my knot filling you up, huh, ‘mega?” He whispers, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, glad that you were facing away from him so you could hide your tears. You were filled by a man who wanted you, so why did you feel so empty?

Part 5

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[hardly-an-escape]

for @bucktommypositivityweek Tuesday 8/20: outsider's perspective | at the coffee shop | 1372 words | rated T

There were pros and cons to working at the coffee shop next door to LAFD Station 118, that was for sure.

The lights and sirens could get overwhelming at times, blazing by with no warning. Eliza sometimes had to cover her ears, and during her very first week behind the counter she’d flinched so badly she dropped a pitcher of near-scalding milk when the third firetruck in ten minutes had screamed out of the garage – that had been fun – but she’d more or less gotten used to the noise.

Business was really reliable. Some of the firefighters and EMTs who came in had stupidly complicated drink orders, but the majority just wanted their coffee strong and in copious quantities. They were good tippers, for the most part. And when they had the time to hang out and shoot the shit for a while, they always had the craziest stories.

Eliza liked the vicarious excitement. Eliza’s life was not exciting.

She hadn’t even intended to work here as long as she has, but you know, life happens. A summer job before community college started up turned into a bout of depression that meant pushing school back a semester. And then another. And then her sister had gotten pregnant and needed help leaving her asshole of a boyfriend, so she’d moved in with Eliza and that had meant a lot more bills, of course.

It was whatever. She did some classes online here and there, when she had the time. Her nephew turned two and was drop dead hilarious. And she liked her job; it wasn’t complicated, but there was good variety from day to day. The manager kept the schedule predictable and wasn’t an asshole. Coworkers came and went, but they were mostly decent. She got by.

The regulars were definitely the best part of the gig. The 118 A shift were in and out nearly every day, and Eliza liked to think that some of them had become – something close to friends. Maybe the kinds of friends you saw at work, or in class. There was Hen, the beautiful paramedic with an even more beautiful wife; and Howie, who was weirdly hot for his age and always ready with a stupid joke. Eddie, who practiced his Spanish with Claudia when she was behind the counter. The captain, who was the best tipper of the whole crew and always remembered to ask after people’s kids and spouses.

And then there was Buck. His credit card said Evan, but he always asked them to write Buck on his cups, so that was what they did. He was tall and muscular and his hair had a little red-gold tinge to it when the light hit it right, and Eliza could admit that she’d had a crush on him since probably the second time he’d walked through the coffee shop door.

It wasn’t even the long legs or the muscles, though those were nothing to sneeze at; Buck had one of the most expressive faces she’d ever seen. It was like there was a little weather system right in the crease between his eyebrows, broadcasting every emotion for the world to see: rainy and stormy when he was down, or bright like the sun whenever things were going well.

He was chatty, too; loved to strike up a conversation with anyone, regardless of how they were dressed or what side of the counter they were on. They started a “question of the day” on the chalkboard just because Buck kept coming in with new facts to share with everyone.

So, yeah. Eliza had been nursing her crush for years, at this point. It was lame, she knew it was lame – but it was harmless. Buck was the perfect kind of guy to have a crush on, if you asked her. He was in proximity enough to keep it fresh, but distant enough that nobody’s annoying traits got in the way. Like the good friend of your older brother, or the guy who sat across from you in class: close enough that something felt almost tangible, but never too familiar. Never close enough that she saw any of his flaws, and certainly never close enough that he saw any of hers.

She’d thought seriously about giving him her number, once. She’d kind of felt like things were ramping up between them for weeks – their banter had felt a little extra charged, a little more flirty than a simple barista-customer exchange warranted. She told herself she was imagining things and only let herself think about him when she was drifting off to sleep in her creaky double bed, making little deals with herself: if he says this tomorrow I’ll do that. If he makes a crack about my apron again, I’ll write my number down. If he references that inside joke, I’ll ask him out. I will.

The next day, Buck had been walked to the front door of the coffee shop by a gorgeous, slim redhead with a dynamite smile, who’d kissed him passionately goodbye on the doorstep. He’d come in like he was walking on air, and Eliza had served him his usual with a smile, and crumpled up her daydreams like so much receipt paper.

Things actually got a little easier, after that. The redhead had stuck around for a while, and then there had been a hint of an explosive argument, and she had disappeared. Buck had seemed down for a while, and then he’d bounced back; things had been normal for a while, and then he’d been gone – Hen had alluded to some kind of medical leave, and everyone’s faces had been a little more pinched than usual for a bit. But he’d bounced back from that, too.

And Eliza’s life had gone on. It wasn’t exciting, but it was nice. She took her classes. She was saving some money. She had a friend in a band, and most weekends she went to see them play out around the city. Once there had been people making art, live, painting to the music while the bands were on, and she’d gotten to try her hand at it, and liked it so much that she started taking an art class every Tuesday afternoon at the community center around the corner from her apartment. Her nephew was about to start kindergarten, which was going to free up a lot of time and money for her and her sister. Life was good.

She was a little older, a little wiser. She still worked in the same coffee shop, and Buck still came into the same coffee shop, and they made the same jokes, and he seemed a little older and a little wiser, too. It was comforting, in a way, to think that they both were finally growing up.

Sometimes she still wondered, with the tiniest little pang, what might have happened if she’d been brave enough to give him her number, way back when. Sometimes she still let herself dream about him, just a little, only while she was falling asleep. What it might have been like to ask him. What it might have been like to kiss him.

One day Buck came in accompanied by a new guy. He was handsome, as tall as Buck – maybe a little broader in the shoulders – with brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Eliza wondered, briefly, if he was a probie or a new transfer to the 118. He was definitely another firefighter; she had gotten to know the type, could tell just by looking at him. He was looking at Buck like he had all the answers to the new guy’s questions. And they were holding hands.

They were holding hands.

Oh.

Eliza could have laughed. Oh, she could have gone into hysterics right then and there, she really could have. But instead she put on her most professional smile, and raised her eyebrow only a little bit at Buck’s obvious blush. The new guy’s coffee order was clearly some kind of inside joke.

She could work with that. She loved her regulars, loved an inside joke.

She wrote Tommy on his cup and had the feeling that this guy was going to stick around for a while.

[qiupachups]

hobie brown

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 🎸💭

contents: general hcs, london based hobes bc i live there

a/n: my wife! the picture above is ‘stay close to me— omega sessions’ by bad brains (super cute song and so hobie)

When he’s not playing shows, antagonising fascists, or staging unpermitted political action slash performance art pieces— Hobie takes care of his garden. There’s just about anything growing on his canal boat that can survive London.

It’s fun just like him! He can repurpose whatever he finds into a planter, which includes old Henry Hoovers.

Most things we take for granted are ridiculously scarce in his world, like running hot water. Not wanting to waste this luxury, Hobie developed the skill of taking extremely fast showers.

Sometimes it feels like he steps in and comes straight out. It’s a little unnerving.

Once a month, Hobie does a super deep clean of his canal boat. He finds all sorts of inter-dimensional trash he’s collected over the weeks. After heaving it off the deck, you swear the boat groaned in relief.

Where does it all go? Miguel’s dimension, of course. The man didn’t have to guess the mystery fly-tipper when he saw the bags flickering through the colour spectrum. In Hobie’s defence, the waste disposal system is better in Earth-98.

If you hadn’t realised yet, Hobie is a methodical and thoughtful spidey. He plans for the best times to grow his produce and harvests them at the perfect time (not always since he’s usually… busy).

After freezing or preserving the amount he needs, he gives the rest to his community. So, expect some strawberry jam materialising at your doorstep.

For as longer as he remembers, Hobie could always cook. There was never a time he didn’t help feed his community or volunteer at F.E.A.S.T— even with his responsibilities post spider-bite.

In Hobie’s eyes, there’s nothing better than a good home-cooked meal. He can make something (amazing) from nothing so you can trust him even when it feels like there’s just dust left in the cupboard.

Multiple spideys can agree that Hobie’s singing isn’t the best. When Gwendy gave him a very forced smile, it only broke his heart a little. The face of Hobie’s idol basically admitting his singing sucks isn’t a big deal. Duh. He’s a big girl— he can handle that…

Thankfully, playing his MaryJane (guitar) more than makes up for it. If he’s not using it to torment police, he’ll make the best damn art that’s gonna stick in your head rent free.

With at least eleven piercings and counting, the dos and don’ts of them are like second nature to Hobie. That’s only eleven we can see— who knows how many more he has hidden? Without a doubt, there’ll be more to come.

Instead of getting blood poisoning from Claires or judged by a pretentious tattoo artist, go to Hobie. He’ll refuse payment but he wouldn’t turn down a drink.

Hobie isn’t called the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man for nothing. His genuine (almost violent) care for his community has earned him the respect of basically everyone, despite their initial concerns.

“A dependable young man.” That’s how the elderly women tend to describe Hobie. They’re his biggest allies since he’d drop almost anything to help them cross a road or carry groceries.

Gwendy’s chucks aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last thing he’ll steal. (You seriously think Hobie just happened to have shoes in her size and colour?)

He’ll definitely nick something of something of yours when you’re not looking. Once you realise, he’ll hold it high above your head and force you to jump for it. Why? Because he can.

Like every other British teen, Hobie’s dabbled in some underage drinking. It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught! When he’s drunk, he’ll be obnoxiously sweet and yell stuff like “You’re gorgeous, luv!” because he truly means it.

In addition to Hobie’s strange array of skills, being good at pub games is another. Beer pong, darts, etc… you name it: he’ll clear it. Hell, he might start organising them if he’s drunk enough.

In his personal humble opinion, roses are way too cliche for a romantic gift. It’s overdone, boring and stupidly difficult to obtain in his universe. So instead, Hobie rips off that patch you’ve been eyeing and gifts that to you.

As much as he’d like to, Hobie couldn’t rip off every patch for you. Instead, he makes a matching set and he’s cheesy enough to sew his one over his heart.

tag: @vhstown thanks for bean card xx

[jensensfanfic]

CAM GIRL

pairing: modern!ellie x camgirl!reader

a/n: so nervous to post this. i didn't want to write a full fic, so this hc kinda thing happened. anyways, lmk what you think...

warnings: smut. mdni. -> sex work via live cam/stream. onlyfans/patreon/etc - no site is stated specifically, stripping, toys, masturbation (reader & ellie), exhibitionism, toys, toy riding (reader), strap-on use, dirty talk, hints of dom!reader, even smaller hints of dom!ellie

[dialogue = purple for ellie, blue for reader]

—★•°°•☆°••°★•°°•☆°••°★—

thinking about ellie dating a girl who cams...

—

"ellie, i wanna be really clear with you about what i do before we... you know?" "date?" "yeah. i just don't want any secrets where my job is concerned."

imagine her reaction when you first tell her. the way her eyes were half intrigue, half envy. on one hand, she thought it was incredible; the confidence you had in your own body and what to do with it. on the other hand, the confession from you caused her to grow more possessive. she felt almost sick, knowing that people all over the world were logging in to their profiles with only you in mind.

but that was at the beginning. after several months, pride swelled within her. you were making a lot of money through your sessions online, made clear by the fancy clothing, lingerie, even the apartment you'd bought for yourself. she could also tell that you enjoyed what you did. it made you feel confident and beautiful, and those feelings bled through to your sex life with ellie.

"fuck, i love your tits so much. love seein'm all beg to touch." "but only you can, els. c'mere and get them all wet with your pretty mouth."

"mm, babe, you like watching my ass when i fuck my toys, don't you?"

sometimes she worried about 'trolls', but you reassured her that you had a few moderators who would bat away any unsavoury comments before you could see them.

"see? if anyone says anything overly disgusting or offensive, it gets removed." "ever had to report or block anyone?" "mm, only a handful of creeps have made my blacklist."

then it was a couple of years into your relationship, and nine out of ten times when you were cam-ing, ellie would come over, either by yours or her own invitation.

"i'm live in 20, you can come over if you're quiet." "and what happens if i'm not?" "you wanna find out?"

"hey, i'm bored, you live? can i watch;)"

she loved to watch you, and you absolutely revelled in it. even your regular viewers had started noticing how you seemed to be even more enthusiastic than before. you wanted to impress ellie, despite already knowing how much she desired you.

when ellie came over during a cam session, you would make sure to put in the most effort with your look for the night. you would wear ellie's favourite colours, slap on a little extra makeup, and put on your best show.

"you were on fire tonight, princess."

"do you have glitter in your cleavage!?"

"you should do the war paint more often. it's hot."

"fake tattoos tonight?" "yeah, it was a request from a my best tipper... you like?" "hurry up and i'll show you how much i do."

ellie would be just out of shot, laying back against the pillows on your bed, one leg crossed over the other. she could never take her eyes off of you. she adored how you changed your voice just slightly on camera; still confident, but with an edge of shyness.

"y'all like the lace tonight, hm? i'm not quite sure if it suits me... tell me what you think, should i keep it or..."

her eyes travelled all over your body as you danced along to the beat of whatever song was playing gently in the background. and then, when it had been a few minutes into your show, and dollar signs started popping up on your screen, you reached for whatever item of clothing you were going to slowly, torturously remove. from that moment on, she was locked on you, following every glide of your fingertips over the straps of you bra, the soft material of your panties, or the thin lace stockings.

ellie always praised you for a good show when it was over. and whenever toys were used, she'd clean them for you, and on the occasion that you actually came for real after using said toys, she would offer to clean you up too. she'd bring you warm pyjamas and a hot drink and mentally congratulate herself for pushing away the urge to jump you after what felt like hours of teasing.

"god, that was so hot."

"you need water? your favourite snacks are on the side over there, too."

"els, help me up out of this mess, please. ugh, the fake spunk is so sticky." "wanna take a shower? maybe create some real mess?"

sometimes, she couldn't hold back, though. on most cam nights, she would be clenching her thighs and biting her lip, watching you with a wetness forming on her boxers. but she couldn't always hold back from touching herself. she'd watch you lifting your tits into full view of the camera, squeezing them and giggling at the comments that followed. then you'd push them together, wait a moment for more tips and then start to pinch at your hard nipples.

"mm, yeah, feels so good. should i pinch harder? want me to lick them for you darlings?"

eventually, inevitably, she'd end up sliding one hand into her underwear, the other fisting the sheets. as you bounced up and down on one of your silicone cocks, moaning out appreciations for the tips that flooded in on the screen, she'd reach her throbbing clit. her gaze would be glued to your slick hole that wept around the toy as you moved, and she'd match your rhythm on the toy with the circles she traced on herself.

when you first saw her doing this, you weren't surprised at all. in fact, it made you that much more smug and turned on, resulting in less of a need to fake your arousal for the people watching. you'd pretended to the camera that you were turning your head to bite your own shoulder, but in fact you were mouthing encouragements for her to fuck herself faster over a wink and a smirk.

"faster, babe. just like that."

"edge yourself, el. better not come until i'm done here."

then there was this one particular night. ellie had two of her fingers deep in her cunt, while you rode a thick, veiny fake cock that took several pumps of lube to sink down onto.

you'd bought it with only your girlfriend in mind. though, of course your viewers were impressed with it, too.

"ooh-oh-oh, i need it f-faster. you want me to go faster... huh loves? gonna need your help then."

it was her favourite colour, and you'd made sure it attached pefectly onto your shared strap harness. it also came with a companion toy that was a little smaller, but could also attach to the harness, so that ellie could have her own pussy stuffed as she - hopefully, if your little scenario panned out - pounded into you once the camera was off.

of course, this is exactly what happened. you couldn't stop trying to get a look at ellie as you heard her little pants. she was trying to stay as quiet as possible, and watching her slap a hand over her own mouth, muffling her pleasure as she got off to you, only made things worse. you sped up your movements for a few seconds, opening your mouth and letting out an exaggarated moan. you then licked your lips, smiling at the camera as floods of tips came in, a bunch of water emojis flickering on and off. you bid everyone goodnight, promising to be back again the night after next, then ended the session.

"fuuuuuuck yes! mmmm!"

"fucked me so good. thank you, sweethearts. go grab yourselves some water and i'll see you next time. buh-bye, huns. mm."

then you turned to ellie, her hand stilled in her boxers. you slowly pulled out the toy and then pushed it all the way back in with a groan. you watched ellie's eyes flash at the obscene wet sounds your pussy made. once more you pull the glistening toy out, so slowly that it draws out impatient whines from the both of you. you rub the head of the toy around your folds, spreading the glistening wetness all around your waiting entrance.

"did you come, babe?" "uh uh, saving it all for you tonight, love."

"want you to fuck me so hard that i won't be able to move." "fuckin' hell. come here, now!" "need one more thing."

you reach down to your 'cam box' and take out two things. you first toss ellie the harness, which has the smaller cock attached, something you'd gotten ready earlier. then, you crawl between her already spread legs, and make a show of attaching the still-wet toy, your pussy clenching at the sight, greedy for it to be back inside you.

"put it on."

"was thinking about you filling me up the whole time tonight. need it now." "gonna do it. gonna make it so you can't stand."

several times after that night, you'd jokingly discussed ellie joining you on your site.

"if you made me gush like that on live, we'd make so much, d'yuh know that?" "maybe, but i don't want anyone else seeing you like that. all fucked out and dribbling from you gorgeous little pussy. no, baby. that's a show only i get to watch."

—★•°°•☆°••°★•°°•☆°••°★—

if you're after more modern!ellie x cam girl!reader ->

CAM GIRL DRABBLE (ellie helps you film)

CAM GIRL: SPECIAL GUEST (part 2)

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Case Study: Liberty Ships Failure

In the 1940s, the US built over 2700 vessels referred to as the Liberty Ships. While it was far from the majority (most of the sunken Liberty ships were a result of German attacks), several of the Liberty ships suffered sudden, catastrophic failures that would go on to change the field of failure analysis. Examples include that of the Schenectady, pictured above cracked in half. These ship failures are perhaps some of the best well known examples of materials failure, often taught (or at least mentioned) in introductory classes.

While there were a number of mechanisms that led to the failure of the ships, one of the most cited causes is the ductile to brittle transition temperature (DBTT). Once the ships entered colder waters the structure of the steel changed and fracture occurred. The DBTT was actually discovered as a result of these failures by metallurgist Constance Tipper, of Cambridge. As expected, the thousands of Liberty ships had a significant impact during World War II, but, more unexpected, they had a significant impact on physical metallurgy.

Sources/Further Reading: (Image source - 2016 article) (2015 article) (University of Cambridge)

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

tired (sirius/remus)

a/n: wartime wolfstar except they get to be cute and domestic and in love and not fighting mwah x

‘Hello? I’m home.’ The front door swings shut with a soft whoompf as Sirius hauls himself inside, stamping his boots on the mat and rubbing his hands together in a feeble attempt to rid his bones of the cold that’s seeped in. Outside the night is deep and liquid. Sighing, he chucks his keys on the console, yanks off his shoes and throws his hefty biker’s jacket up on the hook beside his boyfriend’s worn-out duffle, before calling out again.

‘Remus? You there?’ This time, a head pops out of the kitchen doorway in response.

‘Hi, love. You’re late.’

‘Yeah, well. Such are the joys of life at present,’ Sirius replies joylessly, running a hand through his hair. Remus just gives him a rueful smile.

‘Come on through, I’ve got the kettle on.’

The kitchen is warm and comforting when Sirius sinks into his usual chair at the table, and a wave of exhaustion comes crashing down on top of him. The dull ache that had already started up a low thrum in his limbs seems to take over now that he’s finally let his guard down, and for a moment all he can really focus on is the soreness in his feet. Remus leans down to kiss his head, all soft wool and smoke and cinnamon, then sets about fetching a mug. The one he settles on is a gift from Lily. It’s got a slight chip on the handle and the words Best Dog in the World neatly hand painted on the front in an imitation of Sirius’ fancy cursive. Sirius had roared with laughter when he’d unwrapped it, and it had immediately become a fan favourite in their household.

‘Do you fancy something herbal? We’ve got peppermint and liquorice in if you’d like.’

‘Sure Moons, that’d be lovely.’ Remus hums in response and takes the box of teabags down from the cupboard. Then he shuffles across to the kettle where it’s cradled childlike by its tipper (a lifesaving stroke of genius on Mary’s part) and pours the water. It’s a familiar sound, mundane, and Sirius closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of just being home. When he’s opened them again his tea is sat steaming happily before him, and he pulls it closer, grateful for its warmth in his hands. Remus pulls up a chair opposite him.

‘That better?’, he inquires softly.

‘Loads, thanks.’

‘I’m glad to have you back.’ Sirius winks at him.

‘Can’t stand to be without me, right babe?’ Remus laughs and makes a face.

‘Actually I take it back. You can give me that mug back now and return to the dark and cold.’

‘You’re a cruel man, Lupin.’

‘Not my fault you’ve poor taste in men.’ Sirius shakes his head at this, a fond expression softening the sharpness of his features.

‘I’ve got great taste in blokes. The best.’

They spend a few quiet minutes together after that. For the first time in about four weeks time seems like it’s on Sirius’ side, and things are allowed to slow to a dreamy kind of pace where whole lifetimes can be spent wrapped in the gentle embrace of a tiny old fashioned kitchen with a flickering lightbulb. It’s grounding to sit still for a second and focus on nothing else but being. Soon enough he’s finished his tea, and looks up to find Remus watching him somewhat analytically. He’s looking at Sirius in the way he sometimes does, like he’s trying to memorise every detail of his face just in case there’s a test on it later.

‘You don’t look right.’

‘Wow. Complimentary.’

‘You know I don’t mean it like that. Are you alright, cariad?’ The question is so gentle and so genuine that Sirius has to fight to keep himself from tearing up.

‘I’m just tired, Remus. I’m so fucking tired.’ Remus studies him, then stands.

‘Here. I think you need it.’

Sirius doesn’t need to be told twice. Remus’ arms are safe and reassuring and soft and Sirius clutches fistfuls of his woollen jumper tight as they hug. He buries his face in Remus’ shoulder and decides to just let the rest of reality fuck right off. Somewhere along the line Remus reaches up to stroke his hair and God, if that doesn’t heal something in him. They’re like that for a while. Just the two of them, in the very very early hours of the morning, embracing. As if maybe if they were close enough, if they held each other long enough, they’d be able to squeeze all the sadness and all the suffering out of their weary souls and send it spiralling off into the night. As if they’re comforting each other through something so much bigger than half past midnight on an awfully cold Thursday.

‘I’ll run you a bath,’ Remus murmurs eventually. ‘Wash your hair for you, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ breathes Sirius, voice barely audible, muffled by his boyfriend’s shoulder. ‘Please.’

[icarusignite]

So i have a weird reaquest heheh i just read you finan x reader where they die instead of osferth and the final sentence being about them meeting in heaven SO i got this idea about like in the next life maybe like a modern AU they meet by accident in our time like idk the boys go to a bar or something after a day of work and she is there and Finan just feels like they know each other and something and massive fluff!!!

Thank you<3333

A/N: Heyyoo, I love love loved this request, so cute. Hope you like this fic. I had alot of fun writing the "in another world" vibes lol. This is my first time writing modern AU so apologies if it's abit nonsensey.

Word Count: 2.5K

Pairing: Finan x Fem! Reader (no use of y/n), Modern AU

AO3

In this labyrinth of time, our souls entwined

The bar hummed with an energetic atmosphere, vibrant and alive. Warm, dimmed lights cast a golden glow across the space, illuminating the polished wooden surfaces and richly upholstered seating. The air was filled with the mingling scents of aged whiskey, fragrant hops, and delectable cuisine, creating an inviting aroma that embraced the four men who had just entered.

The sounds of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses merged harmoniously, creating a symphony of human connection. Patrons leaned against the sleek bar, engaged in animated discussions, their voices rising and falling like waves crashing on a distant shore. Bartenders, skilled and swift, expertly crafted cocktails, their movements a well-practiced dance behind the counter. The clatter of shakers, the clinking of ice, and the pop of corks added a rhythmic backdrop to the bustling scene. There was also the occasional burst of applause that erupted from a corner where groups engaged in friendly games of darts or pool. The walls were adorned with eclectic artwork, vintage posters, and memorabilia, and the music, carefully curated to suit the mood, resonated throughout the room. 

As for Finan, Osferth, Uhtred, and Sihtric, they navigated their way through the bustling crowd, exchanging nods and friendly greetings with familiar faces along the way. Their destination was a cozy booth nestled against the far wall, worn leather seats beckoning like old friends. The table, scarred with marks of countless conversations and camaraderie, stood as a testament to the memories made within its embrace and the friends settled into their respective spots, each claiming their corner of comfort. 

"Now, Osferth," Finan teased, nudging his friend playfully. "Remember, moderation is key tonight. We don't want a repeat of last time, do we?"

"Hey, that was not my fault!" Osferth retorted. "Sihtric was the one who made that stupid wager."

"Well, whatever it was, your girlfriend wasn't too happy about having to drag your drunk ass back home when we called her," Sihtric smirked.

Uhtred rolled his eyes, "How'd someone like you even get a girlfriend Osferth?"

"You're just jealous that our boy here is in an actually stable relationship. Maybe you should learn a lesson or two from him?" Finan threw an arm around the blushing younger boy. 

"What, and deny the ladies all this?" Uhtred spread his arms wide and gestured to himself, making the table erupt in snickers. 

Osferth's face reddened slightly as he chuckled, his eyes flickering with embarrassment, "I'll make sure I don't lose it today. I don't really wanna bother her."

"Awww, he's in loooove," everyone cooed together, making Osferth blush harder.

"Can we-uh-can we just order, please!"

Uhtred raised his hand and summoned one of the waitresses over. She was a confident-looking woman, and when she caught sight of the boys, her eyes sparkled with familiarity and warmth. 

"Evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you today?" she grinned. "Will it just be the usual?"

Uhtred raised a hand to his heart, "Oh you flatter us Amelia, you know us so well."

"It's only right that I remember the order of my best tippers," she winked.

"I supposed it does help that we come in here every Friday night and order the exact same thing?" Sihtric raised an eyebrow playfully.

"I suppose. So yes, the usual then?"

"Thanks, Amelia, you're a doll," Uhtred smiled widely and leaned conspiratorially toward her. "And by the way-"

"Nuh-uh, don't try that with me," Amelia tapped her pen against her notepad. "Cassie from last week was here earlier and she did not look happy."

"Hmm, I wonder what that was about."

"Uhtred..." she warned, equal parts amused and annoyed.

"Oh c'mon, it's not my fault she got attached. It was a one-night kind of thing."

"Uhtred, Uhtred, Uhtred."

"Amelia, Amelia, Amelia, your disappointment in me stings."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "Good. You should learn from Osferth here. Now this is a true gentleman."

She ruffled his hair affectionately, making Uhtred groan.

"I'll send someone over with the food and drinks boys. Have a good time!"

As she walked away, Uhtred leaned back in his seat, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips, "Did you see the way she looked at me? No woman can resist my charm."

Finan chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, Uhtred, your ego knows no bounds. She's definitely not into you!"

"Hey, but she could!"

Sihtric sniggered, "Leave it to Uhtred to flirt with every pretty face he comes across."

"And besides, there's no way she'd be into you when you go around breaking the hearts of every woman in her establishment," Osferth chimed in.

Just then, their drinks arrived, and Uhtred was saved from responding. He took his glass absentmindedly from the news server, eyes still lingering on the woman who had retreated behind the counter and was now currently issuing orders. 

The four friends were just raising their glasses, toasting to the adventures they had shared and those yet to come, when there was a sudden hush in the atmosphere. The boys turned their eyes toward the commotion along with everyone else in the room. 

A drunken man, fueled by liquid courage, had crossed the line of decency, attempting to grope a young woman who had been enjoying her drink in solitude at the bar. The atmosphere crackled with a mix of anger and concern, a collective discomfort rippling through the patrons. The woman's discomfort was palpable, her eyes darting around for help as she swallowed nervously. Uhtred stood, accompanied by his friends, ready to step in immediately, but then a figure burst through the crowd.

You were fierce and unyielding as you emerged, eyes flashing with defiance. Your voice boomed with a fiery determination as you confronted the perpetrator. 

"Get your fucking hands off her before I cut them off!"

The drunken man, taken aback by the unexpected confrontation, slurred a profanity-laden response "Mind your own business. The whore was asking for it."

The victim, your friend whom you had left unattended for a moment while you went to the washroom, shuddered at his words and it made your blood boil. You stood your ground with unwavering resolve, managing to stare down your nose at him despite being almost several inches shorter. 

"And you know what you're asking for, you pig? A fucking beating?"

The drunk man snarled and the entire bar waited with bated breath. Finan watched you curiously. He had never seen you in his entire life, he knew that much for sure, and yet there was something about you that seemed so familiar. Something about the steely determination in your glare and the way your voice echoed without strain. He found himself worrying for your safety just then, and he told himself that it was just very human of him to be wishing for the safety of a fellow patron of the bar.

"Oh yeah, and who'd gonna give me the beating? A pathetic thing like you?"

The drunkard lunged toward you, his intentions clear. But he had gravely underestimated your strength and resolve. In a swift movement, you dodged his attack, your smaller stature and sober mind giving you the advantage of speed and better coordination. Your fist connected with his jaw in a powerful counterstrike. There was a satisfying crunch and he crumpled with a howl. The sound reverberated through the room, silencing it for a split second before the eruption of applause and cheers.

"Alright, the show's over, get that fucking clown out of my bar!" Amelia finally arrived at the scene with security and everyone watched them throw the man out, returning the familiar buzz of conversation to the environment. 

The aftermath of the confrontation still hung in the air as Finan, Osferth, Uhtred, and Sihtric returned to their booth, feeling quite impressed at your bravery. However, there was something else lingering in the air—Finan's undeniable fascination with you. 

As they settled back into their seats, Osferth's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Finan, my friend, it seems your attention was captured by more than just the excitement of the moment."

Uhtred chuckled, leaning back with a knowing grin, "Indeed, it appears our fearless Finan has met his match. A strong-willed woman who can throw a punch? I totally see the appeal."

Finan's cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, no, it's not that. I feel like-I feel like I know her."

"You seen her before?" Sihtric raised an eyebrow.

"A one-night-"

"No! Nothing like that!"

Uhtred raised his hands placatingly, "Alright, alright. Shall I ask Amelia then? Maybe she's a regular here?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Just go talk to her Finan," Sihtric sighed in exasperation. 

"What if she thinks I'm a creep or something?"

"Oh I think she's more than capable enough to handle creeps don't you think?"

"Hey! I don't wanna be handled like a creep!" Finan exclaimed indignantly.

"Well then, you better be on your most gentlemanly behaviour dude," Osferth clapped a hand on his shoulder.

With the resounding support of his friends, Finan steeled his nerves and rose from the booth once more. He crossed the bar, weaving through the mingling crowds until he reached your side. You were still comforting your friend in hushed whispers when she nudged you to turn your attention to the newcomer.

Finan wore an easy confident smile as he leaned against the bar, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You know," he began, his voice filled with playful charm, "I could swear we've crossed paths before. Perhaps in a previous life?"

You snorted, "Oh wow. That was-"

"Charming?"

"Oh, is that your go-to line?" you raised your eyebrow unimpressed. 

"Well, it hasn't failed me yet. But I must admit, it doesn't seem to be working splendidly in this instance," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well, consider my curiosity piqued, charming stranger."

"Finan, at your service," he extended his hand which you took in a firm handshake.

The moment your palms met, a kaleidoscope of emotions and sensations cascaded through his being, and Finan felt a jolt of familiarity as if the tapestry of time had woven your destinies together long before your paths had crossed here in this bar. Time itself seemed to stutter, as though a forgotten melody had suddenly resurfaced, stirring memories buried deep within him and his heartbeat quickened. He knew you, he could swear it. Within that ephemeral moment, the boundaries of space blurred, and the present moment fused seamlessly with echoes of the past and the whispers of the future. The sensation transcended the confines of the physical world, creating a bridge that spanned eons, traversing the realms of memory and eternity. Finan then pulled away, feeling quite foolish. No girl had ever made him feel this way before but surely it was foolish to be drawn this way to a stranger he had just met. He looked up at you, trying to deduce whether or not you felt a similar connection, or if this familiarity was something on his part alone. 

Your eyes were warm as you smiled at him, but there was no recognition in them. That was all well enough, he supposed. The stressful week must be getting to him. This was the first time he'd seen you because there was no way he'd ever forget someone like you if you had made his acquaintance in the past. 

"So, will I get to know your name, or are you determined to stay an enigma?"

Your smile grew wider as you introduced yourself. 

"That was quite a punch back there," Finan eyed your bruised knuckles in concern. "I must say, I'm impressed."

You laughed, the sound echoing through his ears pleasantly. 

"Flattery will get you far, Finan. But tell me, do these lines usually work for you?"

Finan leaned in, his tone conspiratorial, "I'd say they've got about a 50/50 success rate. Though I must confess, it's never been quite as genuine as it is with you."

"Well, you certainly have a way with words. Perhaps, just this once, I'll let you get away with it."

"Wow, in that case, would you let me buy you a drink?"

"Hmm, I'd like that. Thank you."

Finan flagged down the bartender, ordering your preferred drink. Then, with a worried glint in his eyes, he added, "And may we also have some ice for her bruised knuckles, if you don't mind."

The bartender returned, placing your drinks on the bar along with a small bowl of ice. Finan took a few napkins and wrapped a few pieces of ice in them, reaching out to brush his fingers gently across yours.

"May I?"

You nodded hesitantly, and he pressed the cool relief to your knuckles, making you sigh. 

You smiled, "Thank you. It's not often I find someone who pays such attention to the little things."

After that, the conversation seemed easy, your words flowing effortlessly like a dance. The bar's ambient sounds faded into the background, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of shared laughter and connection. You didn't even notice your friend slip away from your side, leaving you two alone at the counter. 

Finan's friends observed the scene from their booth, their eyes fixated on their smitten companion. Uhtred leaned in, his voice filled with mischief. "Well, well, it seems Finan has truly met his match."

Osferth nodded, a warm smile on his face as he watched the two of you laugh and engage in witty banter, "He's found someone who can match his wit I guess. It's entertaining for sure."

"How long before he works up the nerve to ask her out?" Sihtric chimed in.

"If he hasn't already," Uhtred pointed out.

"Nah, I don't think he's done it yet. He seems different this time."

"Oh you think you're the expert now Osferth," Sihtric nudged him with his elbow.

"Well, I am the one with the long-term relationship, so yeah, I guess that makes me the expert. We can't very well call Uhtred the expert now can we?"

Back at the bar, you and Finan had continued to share stories, your laughter intertwined with glimmers of vulnerability and shared interests. Finan leaned closer, his voice uttering your name sincerely.

"You know, there's something about you that is so truly captivating. I find myself drawn to your spirit, and I can't help but want to know more."

"My spirit huh? Damn, you definitely have a way with words. So what is it that you want to know, Finan?"

"Everything. I want to know your dreams, your passions, and the adventures that have made you the person you are. I want to know everything about you!"

"Oh."

"If you'll let me of course," he amended quickly, not wanting to scare you off.

Your cheeks flushed a deep red, "I assure you my life has been very ordinary so far, but perhaps you shall hear about it another time."

Finan reached out, gently taking your hand in his, "I eagerly await that time. Until then, may I have the honour of taking you out for dinner?"

"Oh," your eyes widened. "Well...okay yeah, I'd like that. I'd like that very much, Finan."

Your voice tugged at his heart. The cadence of your voice, the melody of your laughter, and the animated movements of your hands, as you talked, resonated deep within him, stirring emotions that defied explanation. The sense of déjà vu enveloped him, painting the air with shades of nostalgia and anticipation. he tried his best to recall the origin of this profound connection, but they slipped through his fingers like whispers in the wind. 

His heart called your name, even though it had just learned the shape of it today and your souls, separated by the veil of existence, recognized each other anyways.

[mjart12699]

M6 and Tattoos

Asra: I feel as though Asra would do really well getting tattoos. They don’t necessarily research the most painful spots before their appointment, but they do bring plenty of snacks and water as well as fidgets. They take regular breaks during their session not only for them self but also to give their artist a break. I think that Asra wouldn’t stick to a specific style if they got multiple tattoos, but they do like neotraditional or watercolor tattoos. Might not stick to just one tattoo artist, but if they go to a specific one regularly then they make payments in things besides money in true Asra fashion. Pain tolerance is relatively average, and he has stick and pokes from when he was younger with Muriel.

Nadia: probably one of the best people to get tattooed. She does her research beforehand, not just on the most painful places to get tattooed or the care that comes with it but also her artist. Definitely a great tipper, but her pain tolerance isn’t as good as she’d like it to be (she’s wonderful actually she’s just putting herself down) but she does do breathing exercises during her session in between chatting with her artist. Likes symmetrical designs, and I feel like she would have some tattoos similar to Mel Medarda (Netflix’s Arcane). However, I do think she would be more inclined to henna than tattoos.

Julian: oh man. A wonderful customer, very good pain tolerance, not only because he’s Julian but also because he’s ginger and because of the ginger gene his pain tolerance is much better than the average persons. Has a few stick and pokes from his younger years already and is no stranger to tattoo parlors or the artists working there. I think he’d be a patchwork kinda guy (for the aesthetic) but he’d also get a matching tattoo with Portia from something they both liked when they were younger (such as a book character or trinket or movie for modern au). Is the one to ask the tattoo artist if they need a break. Does the aftercare for doctor reasons and he paid good money for this! He needs to take care of it!

Lucio: now he loves the IDEA of a tattoo and the aesthetics of it, but he does not do well during a session. Shaking and crying silently or chattering through tears to his artist about everything and nothing because it keeps his mind occupied. Tips really well and does excellent with aftercare using only the best lotions, but does absentmindedly scratch if he’s not paying attention. While some of his tattoos are for the aesthetic some of them are also the result of getting really drunk. Likes almost all styles.

Portia: she does so well, again because of the ginger thing. Either chatters with her artist without a care in the world or is dead asleep, snoring and everything. Like Asra she remembers to pack water and snacks, as well as fidgets. Tips well and probably ends up friends with everyone in the parlor. At least one tattoo of Pepi, lots of floral tattoos. I think she’d like folk art tattoos.

Muriel: While he appreciates the time and dedication it takes to tattoo and be tattooed, I’m not sure he’d even think about it unless it’s after he’s learned about his culture and the meanings of certain tattoos, but he might have a stick and poke or two from his younger years with Asra, prior to being a gladiator. Relatively normal pain tolerance, but you wouldn’t know it from the fact that he doesn’t really react unless he’s getting a tattoo that has some highlights, and even then it’s just a twinge in his jaw. His main worry is if he’s even able to get tattooed over some of his scars, but his artist reassures him that depending on how long ago certain injuries happened it’s perfectly fine, they just have to take a little extra care. Familiar with the aftercare since some of it is similar to how he’d care for his scars if he did at any point. Likes floral and animal designs.

[noneedtoamputate]

Happy Joe Toye Day! (And Happy Thanksgiving!)

I joined Tumblr not long ago after a Band of Brothers rewatch. Wanting to start writing again after a long hiatus, I never expected to "meet" such wonderful people. Here is an incomplete list of Tumblrs I am thankful for today:

@almost-a-class-act wrote the fic that inspired my fic and was gracious enough to let me borrow some characterizations and plot elements. I also didn't know I needed Liebgott/Tipper fic in my life until reading one of their fics.

@merriell-allesandro-shelton was one of the first Tumblrs to reach out to me and tags me in meme games and never minds if I don't always post.

@mercurygray blew me away with her Darkening Sky fic and all associated AUs. She helped me with some copy editing, too.

@jump-wings created this beautiful moodboard for Every Beautiful Thing. It was completely out of the blue and the nicest surprise.

@shoshiwrites also created an amazing moodboard for Chuck and Ellen and leaves me the most encouraging comments and messages. I can't wait to read your fic when it's finished!

@basilone included Every Beautiful Thing on a BoB fic list with a slew of amazing authors. I'd been having a rough writing week and this lifted my spirits.

@latibvles and @dcyllom leave the best comments over at AO3. Your comments mean the world to me. Thank you so much!

And for everyone who has followed me, reblogged a post, or left a comment, I appreciate you!

[queen-susans-revenge]

Things My Momma Taught Me

(reprinted: I actually wrote this years ago, but just stumbled across it again. And we're not too far off Mother's Day, so.)

So I was walking around the Tenderloin looking for stray twenty-dollar-bills that might have fallen into gutters, and I was thinking, as I often do, about my mother.

A few years ago my mom got all upset because she heard that today's youth lacked moral guidance. So she sat me down and she said, "Daughter," she said:

Don't ever cross a picket line.

Work for Greeks.

Don't you ever eat something that you find dead at the side of the road, unless you were in the car that killed it.

I'm not sure where my mom got her fine Depression-era set of ethics, except that I think she heard the last one on a radio show. Her enduring affinity for Greek employers (and her corresponding loathing for the French) probably stems from her experience working as a waitress in Alsace and Italy. Apparently, if you innocently drop a plate full of spaghetti in somebody's lap, and they have to go and make a big stink about it, your Greek boss will defend you, whereas your German boss will take the comp'ed meal out of your paycheck, and your French boss will probably slap you across the face.

Anyway, it's the first point that really stuck with me: I'm convinced that, in the Final Judgement, when the goddess Ma'at weighs our hearts on her golden scales, the murderers will make out better than the scabs. (And bad tippers will be thrown straight into the jaws of the crocodile.)

But speaking of my mom's international wisdom:

It's best if you don't eat raw oysters in a Mexican street market.

Here followed a tale of heartbreak and amoebic dysentery. But my mom survived both the oysters and the French, and pulled herself up by her bootstraps to become the world's leading eastern North-American paleoethnobotanist, which was always a lot of fun to write in the little blank under "Mother's Occupation." Now when she calls me up, her conversation tends to go something like this:

"It turns out you can tell the species of acorn just by looking very closely under the microscope. So that's very exciting. I'm going to have to try that on my own acorns when I get home. Mmph. Excuse me. I was pulling a cork out of a wine bottle, with my teeth."

But all intrepid globetrotting archaeologists need their endearing phobias. For Indiana Jones it was snakes. For my mom it's blimps. I don't know if she was a Hindenburg victim in a past life or what, but it's really no fun being in a car with her if there's a Goodyear Blimp in sight. She keeps scanning the sky anxiously, wondering if it's following her, wondering if it's watching us. Also among her bizarre phobias is the conviction that I'll be sent to jail someday…ha ha! Trés absurd!

Laugh, damn you.

Anyway, back to the blimp thing. For a woman of science, Mom is actually very attuned to signs and portents. There was this one time that a headless pigeon fell from the sky, literally at her feet.

These are bad times.

"These are bad times," she told me. "Bad times, when headless pigeons fall from the sky." And I can't deny it.*

But the last thing my mom taught me, the biggest thing really, and more important than Fortean events, is the definition of love. I remember when I was a little kid, I got worms. Just like a dog. Tiny little white wrigglers that squimed around in my asshole. And they itched and would keep me awake at night. So I remember that, in the weeks it took for my de-worming pills to work, my mom would spend an hour or so every night picking these worms out of my butt so that I could get to sleep.

That is love, in all its shocking profundity. When you spend hours picking worms out of somebody's buttcrack, that is love.

So, I love you too, Mom. Thanks for picking the worms out of my butt. Thanks for getting me drunk all those times. Thanks for teaching me right from wrong, and thanks, in advance, for posting my bail.

Happy Mother's Day.

*later she called me back up to tell me it was a good portent actually. It happened because a hawk had moved in to the neighborhood.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Misc. Tag Game! ✨

thank you for the tags @ronald-speirs @panzershrike-pretz and @sharkboyandlavalieb !!!

Made by the amazing @ronald-speirs 💖

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

Hmmm I’m gonna have to go with when my mom, sister, and I all went to Las Vegas for my 21st birthday! It was so much fun and just an incredible experience 💕

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

Probably continuing my therapy journey! I’ve been in therapy continuously since I graduated in 2020 and I feel like I’ve made some good progress! I’m proud of myself for not giving up when things felt impassable

Favorite books?

Soooo i’m not too big on reading but something I will read over and over again is the fruits basket series!!!! That’s the only book series I’ve read in its entirety and I love every bit of it!!!

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

It’s not the dart scene at the start of replacements idk what you’re talking about

Favorite thing about your culture?

About being American? I guess just the fact that BoB is American 🤣

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

Umm i think in April ‘23?? @dontirrigateme and I had just watched the x-men first class movies and wanted to watch more James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, so of course we watched BoB… the world has never been the same

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

I’m trying to read Ambrose’s book right now, but I have Winters’ Beyond Band of Brothers, Guarnere and Babe’s book, and a couple others on my shelf!! (if anyone finds Webster’s shark book i promise you my first born for a copy of that)

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

Oh goodness there’re so many!!! Ummm well right now I’m going thru a Liebgott phase oml the man makes me FOAM AT THE MOUTH so I’m gonna go with when he tends to Talbert on the Night of the Bayonet, like Liebgott is known for his temper and fighting but here (and with Tipper) you can see he’s an absolute SWEETHEART AAAA I WOULD DIE FOR JOSEPH DAVID LIEBGOTT

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

I’ve just recently started writing for BoB!! I also have some Pokemon x BoB collages that I’ve made 🥰

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

Johnny Depp hands down, and absolutely pirates of the caribbean, it’s just all-around lovely and whimsical and amazing (fun fact till like middle school i had no idea what Johnny Depp actually looked like because my only references for him were Captain Jack Sparrow and Willy Wonka and they just did not look the same to me 🤣)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

I think I’ve said this before, but it’s a quote from my blorbo Vincent Van Gogh, “I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

My dad’s retired Navy, so I grew up moving around until he retired when I was about 8!

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

ASDFDL I WOULDN'T MIND HAVING A BETA READER

Three things that make you smile? (I’m watching BoB rn so this is about to be BoB momes)

“CURRAHEEEEEEE!”

“We salute the rank not the man”

“I’m John Wayne! The costume department set me up with these nice navy whites, what do ya think!?”

Any nicknames you like?

Honestly I just feel warm and fuzzy when given any nickname, I’ve been called Em, Emmy, Ems, my favorite might be “Yellow,” I’ve had three separate best friends give me this nickname just cuz they associate me with the color yellow and sunshine vibes ✨

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

ASDJ:LKF THERE ARE SO MANY @dontirrigateme @panzershrike-pretz @ithinkabouttzu @executethyself35 @ronsparky @love--persevering @ronald-speirs @sweetxvanixlla @whollyjoly @xxluckystrike @venus-haze @thicccqueyoongimin @joetoyesbrassknuckles101 @neptunes-blue @ewipandora @hanniewinnix @sharkboyandlavalieb @footprintsinthesxnd @mutantmanifesto @jump-wings @malarkgirlypop @mads-nixon @blueberry-ovaries @coco-bean-1218 @b00ks1ut AND SO SO MANY MORE I'M SORRY IF I DIDNT TAG YOU I PROMISE I LOVE YOU

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

Cry and die probably

Favorite movie?

Bohemian Rhapsody, the Mummy, and Pirates of the Carribean, and the Blair Witch Project!

Do you like horror movies? YES!! Especially found footage movies!!

No pressure tags!! @dontirrigateme , @ithinkabouttzu , @executethyself35 , @neptunes-blue , @thicccqueyoongimin , @love--persevering , @jump-wings , @blueberry-ovaries and anyone else who wants to do this!!! 💖

[heldmore]

𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚈 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙿𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙿𝙻𝙾𝚃𝚂 𝙿𝚃. 𝟸 

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢.     muse a is muse b’s therapist. muse b is either a serial killer in an asylum or just someone that has a lot of problems in the real world. muse a starts to become obsessed with their own patient. they can't get off until they think of their sessions, thinking about their complaints. soon enough they break, deciding to have their way with them during their next session.

𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎.     muse a is a detective and muse b is the criminal they're after. it's a long game of cat and mouse until they finally have them cornered. things get complicated when for whatever reason, they can't bring themselves to make the arrest. something about the criminal makes them weak, makes them want to cave in and help them escape.

𝚏𝚊𝚗.     muse a has always had a crush on muse b, who happens to open up an onlyfans account. they start watching the videos, saving all of the pics, tuning into every single livestream. soon enough they're the biggest tipper and muse b decides to meet up in person with them to fuck their biggest fan. when they actually meet face to face and notice who the other is, will they both be able to go through with it?

𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚝.     muse a is owed a large debt by muse b's father. instead of finding the money, they decide to offer muse b up as a large sum to get the debt paid off. there's no conditions and muse a is able to use the other however they please for however long they want.

��𝚞𝚜.     muse a and muse b are taking the same bus/train/public transport together. one of them finds the other incredibly attractive and decides to go for it right then and there. they don't care how packed it is, they're sliding their hand up the other's thighs and already decided they're going to orgasm before their stop.

𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚍.     muse a is a monster/alien/creature and they sought out muse b with one thing in mind: breeding. they want to see if a hybrid can be made in between the two of them. honestly, whether or not anatomy allows muse b to get pregnant doesn't matter to muse a. that just means that they're going to keep on trying until they find their next target.

𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗.     muse a and muse b are at the same halloween/masquerade party. one thing led to another and they went somewhere to get intimate. when their masks come off in the middle of the act, they realize that for whatever reason they should not be having sex (whether it's cheating or something taboo). do they decide to keep going and ignore their connection or is it too much to handle?

𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢.     muse a is happily married for all intent and purposes. muse b is best friends with their spouse and always around. the two of them start sneaking around until one of them gets knocked up. muse a's spouse is beyond the moon about their spouse's/friend's baby that's coming along the way. if only they knew who the other parent was.

[cbtfarnav9]

Identifying the World's Best Cricket Tipster and Expert.

Discover the top cricket tipper in the world, a trusted source of expert advice for successful cricket predictions and bets.

best cricket tipper in world