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#T&C Bomber
arbitrarygreay · 9 months
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Actually paying attention to the visuals, I don't think current Juice=Juice or Tsubaki could pull this kind of swagger off. They're way too poisoned by the Kpop simpering hyperfeminine model of sexiness.
Meanwhile, as I mused on last time, the song is ahead of its time. Could easily be remixed into reggaeton, but also it seems appropriate that both MM and Angerme have done Tribal House numbers, as the two groups I could see doing this justice in performance (though, less so recently with the departures of Kaga and Takechan).
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margatsniph · 8 months
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magicmorningmeteora · 10 months
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Who is your birthday oshi? ~Week of July 16~
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Birthdays & Anniversaries ~Week of July 16~
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The following members, ex-members, and single releases have birthdays and anniversaries this week.
July 16
Maeda Yuki - Tokyo Kirigirisu (2003)
Kusumi Koharu - Papancake (2008)
℃-ute - The Power / Kanashiki Heaven (Single Version) (2014)
July 17
Kimura Asami (ex-Country Musume; 39)
Inoue Rei (Kobushi Factory→Juice=Juice; 22)
Ichii Sayaka in CUBIC-CROSS - Shitsuren LOVE Song (2002)
Kobushi Factory & Tsubaki Factory - Hyokkori Hyoutanjima (2018)
July 18
Tsubaki Factory - Date no Hi wa Nido Kurai Shower Shite Dekaketai / Junjou cm / Kon'ya Dake Ukaretakatta (2018)
July 19
T&C Bomber - HEY! Mahiru no Shinkirou (2000)
July 20
Nakayama Natsume (OCHA NORMA; 18)
Buono! - Natsu Dakara! (2011)
July 21
Taguchi Natsumi (ex-Kobushi Factory; 23)
July 22
Kitagami Ami (ex-Sheki-Dol; 43)
Morning Musume - Joshi Kashimashi Monogatari (2004)
Melon Kinenbi & New Rote'ka - Pinchi wa Chance - Baka ni Narou ze! (2009)
ANGERME - Nana Korobi Ya Oki / Gashin Shoutan / Mahou Tsukai Sally (2015)
Happy birthday/anniversary week!
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fly-to-rainbow-ray · 1 year
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T&C Bomber - DON'T STOP Ren'aichuu
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helloprojectarchive · 2 years
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T&C bombers DDI ポッケトスーパーパック CM
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crappymixtape · 3 months
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because of you • part two
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PART I • PART III • PART VI • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 3.3k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T W O 🎶 theatre, etta marcus
❝ IS IT EASIER WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO START AGAIN? WHEN YOU DON’T WANNA MAKE AMENDS? ❞
‘Stealing a Winnebago’ had been easier than you’d assumed, but the getaway execution went exactly like you thought it would. Absolute disorganized chaos and the way Steve peeled out of the trailer park dumped you into Robin’s lap for the first mile. Made you even more skeptical of whatever half-assed plan these people had frankensteined together and now? You found yourself browsing the clothing section of The War Zone.
What in the hell were they thinking coming here anyway? From Eddie’s retelling of what happened under Lover’s Lake it sounded like not one of them knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, let alone guns. Couldn’t even land a punch, but thought they could handle this? Walls of rifles on display, rounders full of bulletproof gear and cases upon cases of bullets and god, you wanted to leave.
“Hey,” Nancy’s voice pulled your attention away from the tactical vests you were staring at, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked over at you. “If I go over to the counter, you gonna be okay?”
“Oh, totally,” you lied. “Yeah, was gonna go look over here anyway,” and you thumbed over your shoulder at more vests.
“Okay, good.”
She gave you a small Nancy-Wheeler-smile and left you there alone in a sea of camouflage. In the middle of a store you’d never have set foot in before all this and making you second guess yourself. Second guess what was seemingly more and more a stupid decision to go along with all of this and you huffed a sigh in frustration.
“Should’ve stayed in the trailer,” you grumbled under your breath, fighting the urge to just walk out, but apparently you weren’t the only one wandering around all the puke green clothing.
“Huh, didn’t know you had good ideas.”
The sound of Steve’s voice made your hands ball into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms.
“Do you ever have anything nice to say?” you sneered and he had the audacity to be so causal. Didn’t even look up from the tactical vests he was flipping through and tossed one into his cart.
“Not to you I don’t.”
Anger rose in your chest like a pot boiling over, so hot it made your cheeks burn as you glowered over at him.
“What’s your problem?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep,” and still he didn’t look at you. Picked a bomber jacket off the rack and piled it on top of his vest and it was the last straw.
Stalking over to his side of the rounder you got right up in his face, dug a finger into his chest and said, “Liar.”
His eyes flickered at your accusation, sardonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at you and warned, “Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.” And he leaned into your finger. Waited for you to fold. Tsked at your attitude and the sound of it triggered a memory so strong you felt like you’d been sucker punched.
Your second ever interaction with Steve Harrington happened the week before summer break.
You heard it while you were walking back to school from grabbing lunch at the diner. A high, sharp whistle followed by car horn and then—
“Owwww, damn baby!”
And you recognized the voice right away.
Tommy Hagan. Leaning out the passenger window of Steve’s BMW. Wolf-whistling at you and being a dick and you tried to ignore them, but then they were pulling up next to you and slowing way down.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Tommy purred at your back, your mouth twisting into a scowl at the sound of Eddie’s nickname on his tongue. “You need a rid–” he started to ask, but his question cut short when you turned around.
Mouth dropped open in shock for a split second as he realized who you were, Tommy quickly recovered and started to laugh. That obnoxious, hyena-like laugh that made you want to punch him and he smiled and whistled again.
“Shit, Stevie! Who knew the freak had an ass on her!”
“You kiss Carol with that mouth, Tommy?” you shot back, Steve stifling a snicker from the driver’s seat.
“Bet you could do for a kiss, baby,” Tommy tsked, pouted his lips at you and grinned, “Always so damn sour.”
“Yeah? Wanna find out why?” you threatened and it made Tommy grin even wider. Shark-like. Predatory.
“Park it, Stevie,” Tommy didn’t bother looking at his friend, eyes locked on you as he opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car while it was still moving. Walked right up and crowded over you, eyes narrowing as he leaned in, “And what if I do?”
Your stomach lurched, heart leaping into your throat as you stood your ground. You didn’t think he’d take the bait, but you also didn’t shy away. God, you wished Eddie was there. Tilting your chin up in defiance you glared him down.
“Tommy, c’mon man. Just leave it,” you heard Steve’s voice from over Tommy’s shoulder, tinged at the edges with desperation as he ran up on the two of you, but Tommy couldn’t have cared less.
“Well? What’re you gonna do about it, toots?” Tommy pushed again, toes of his shoes knocking against yours as he stepped even closer, towering over you and it hit you like a ton of bricks how in over your head you were.
“Tommy, just leave–”
“I didn’t ask you, Harrington!” Tommy snapped and you took the opportunity.
Grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hands, you yanked Tommy down into you and drove your knee into his crotch as hard as you could.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” he choked out, folded in half and hands covering his junk as he dry heaved and you took a big step back.
“Coward,” you turned and hurled the word at Steve and watched it land heavy as his face shifted. Brows pinching together and mouth dropped open, but nothing came out as he struggled to say those two little words. I’m sorry. To tell you he wasn’t like his friend, but his silence betrayed him.
“You bitch,” Tommy grunted at you as he tried to straighten up, one hand still over his crotch.
“Don’t move! I’ll–I’ll get you expelled!” you threatened and it made him laugh. A mean, mirthless thing.
“No fuckin’ way. My mom’s on the school board, who’s gonna take your side?”
And you looked back at Steve for a split second, silently asking him to step in and do something, but he stood frozen in place. Still unable to go against his ‘best friend’ and what little belief you had left in him was shattered.
You were done with Steve Harrington.
Shaking your head, you fought back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes and ran up the path to the cafeteria doors. Disappeared behind them with a loud, metallic slam! and left Steve alone to drown in the deafening silence.
Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.
It was like no time had passed, like you were still there in that parking lot with Tommy towering over you and tsking at you just like Steve was doing now, but this time you didn't run away.
“Don’t call me that!” you shoved at his chest and he stumbled back a step.
“Don’t call me a liar!”
“All you do is lie, Harrington! Your entire life was built on lies,” you could see his pulse fluttering against his neck. Watched his jaw tick as he clenched down on the words he wanted so badly to throw at you, but you didn’t give him a chance. “Why are you even here? You don’t give a shit about Eddie. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re–”
“Enough!” you flinched as his shout drew the attention of a couple older guys looking at the hunting gear. “You don’t know anything about me, okay? Not a god damn thing,” and the second part was quieter, but they way he held your gaze after punctuated it heavy.
He turned away from you, hastily pushing his cart back toward the cashier counter and walked out the double doors, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.
“Hey, I’m not done!” you shouted after him across the parking lot. Sharp and biting and it made him spin back around, arms flung out at his sides in exasperation.
“Oh, yeah? Fine. What else you got?”
“Well, for one, I’m not going to sit here while you lord around like King Steve. This isn’t high school. No one here gives a shit about any of that.”
He squeezed his eyes shut at his old nickname. Sucked in a breath and let it out slow to try and steady himself.
“I’m not like that anymore.”
“Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You’ve been a dick to me since I set foot in Max’s trailer! And honestly? I’m not surprised! You think I don’t remember all the shit you put me through, put us through in school?” you shot back and he opened his eyes to glare over at you.
“Like I said, Princess–”
“I said don’t call me that!”
“–you don’t have any idea what this is. What we’re up against. None. You’re in over your head.”
“Okay? And what, I’m supposed to sit here on my hands and say, ‘It’s fine! Steve Harrington and all his little friends will fix this’?? You’re out of your mind!”
“And you think you can?” he shot back and your heart rate thrummed heavy in your ears.
“You know, Eddie says he trusts you now, but hell if I will. No fucking way,” and as you turned and cut past him back to the Winnebago he had to jog to keep up.
“Hey! Eddie almost killed me! With a fucking beer bottle!”
You huffed a laugh and kept walking, shaking your head at the accusation and incredulous at the lengths he was going to prove his point.
“Why should I believe you?” you called over your shoulder, “You’re probably just gunning for a headline: Steve Harrington, Hero of Hawkins!”
“Headline?? I–are you kidding me? You think I’d do all this for a headline??”
And finally you stopped at the bottom step of the Winnebago and Steve seized his chance.
“You really think I’m that superficial?” he shot at your back, but you didn’t turn around. Didn’t even acknowledge him and he spent what little patience he had left. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”
But you were already gone. Frozen in place with the world growing dark. Tree line ahead of you blurring. Unfocused and liquid like water and the ground swam under you as a voice echoed in your mind.
I see you.
The sound of Steve still talking behind you turned to fuzz, crackled like radio static and faded away into ear-splitting silence. Deafening and swallowing you whole and then you felt it. The ground falling out from underneath you and you were drowning in the dark and the voice that echoed in your mind pulled you even deeper.
Resisting will only make it worse.
❝ AND I NEVER HAD A TASTE FOR LIARS OR THE UNIQUELY UNINSPIRED ‘CAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE DESIRED ❞
Steve glared daggers at your back. Anger hot and fuming and fueled by the fact that you had the nerve to ignore him and god, he wanted to prove you wrong.
“Are you trying to piss me off? Cos its work–” but the words died in his throat as he came around to face you. “Oh. Oh, shit,” with a quick glance over your shoulder he saw everyone else finally coming out of the store and he didn’t wait to call for help.
“Munson!! Eddie!” Steve yelled over your shoulder at your best friend before grabbing your shoulders in his hands and squeezed at them. Leaned down to try and meet your unfocused, far away gaze and when none of it worked he felt his chest grow tight.
Not again.
“Hey, hey! Look at me!" panic clawed its way up his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Stay with me! Munson–hurry up!”
Your eyes were glazed over, tears gathering at the corners as your whole body started to tremble. Breathing stuttered and caught in your throat. Lips parted and trying to pull air in, but it wasn’t enough and Steve felt his hand twitch. Wanted to press it to your cheek to try and ground you, reach you and bring you back, but then Eddie was finally at your side and shoving Steve out of the way.
“Sweetheart! Can you hear me? Shit, shit, shit. What happened?? Honey? Look at me!” Eddie cradled your face in his hands. Did what Steve couldn’t. Voice ratcheted up, his usual low timbre a high pitched thing driven by fear and hearing it doused any remaining anger that had settled into Steve’s chest and replaced it with something else.
With helplessness. Regret. Remorse.
With the slow realization that everything he’d just said to you wasn’t worth it. Remembered how Nancy had yelled at him, just like you, outside of the gym. You’re bullshit! And his throat squeezed with guilt for messing it all up again because he was bullshit. He was a liar and you were right. Had he learned nothing?
He looked at you, your face contorted with fear, and he felt something new flicker within him. A feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach. One he was so certain couldn’t possibly exist when it came to you, but as he stood there watching Eddie try to shake you back from the dark he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Steve, help me!” tears cut down Eddie’s cheeks as he called to him and pulled him hurtling back to Earth. Desperate. Pleading. Begging him to do something and it shook Steve back into action.
Heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursed through Steve's body and fought off the fear that had threatened to trap him in choke hold.
“Max, gimme your Walkman!” he shouted over your shoulder.
The rest of the group had started running back to the Winnebago as soon as they’d heard yelling and when Steve asked for the cassette player, Max knew time was running out.
“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and broke into a sprint, scrambling to untangle the headphones from around her neck as she hurried to get to you. “Here! It’s still Kate Bush, is that–”
“Doesn’t matter–Munson get these on, hurry!” Steve, snatched the Walkman from Max and crammed it into Eddie’s outstretched hands.
“Please, please, please,” fell from Eddie’s lips, desperate, praying that this would work as he fitted the headphones on and pressed them against your ears, “Please.”
Blinking heavy, you strained your eyes against the black. Against the suffocating dark you suddenly found yourself in. The stand of vivid, green ash trees lining the parking lot replaced by gnarled branches, dark and leafless. Bright yellow buttercups snuffed out by thick, wet vines that snaked their way across the ground under your feet.
You weren’t in the parking lot of the War Zone anymore, not really, and as you breathed in the sickly, ashen air your heart stopped in your chest.
The Upside Down.
“Eddie? Eddie!” you shouted into the dark, red lightening cracking the sky in two, and when no one answered you knew you were utterly alone.
Panic gripped you like a vice as you thought of Chrissy. Of Fred and Patrick and dread filled your stomach. Utter hopelessness and grief and when you whipped around to run you felt something tangle around your leg. Wrapping up, up, up and pulling you down, down, down.
You braced for it, ready to break your fall with your hands, but you never hit and instead found yourself lifting into the air. Unhinged laughter filling your ears as more vines snaked around your arms and legs and you swore you were going to be sick.
It was
Him.
“Why isn’t it working?? God dammit, work!” Eddie was yelling at the Walkman, his composure unravelling as Chrissy’s last moments flooded his mind. “Is she gonna die? She can’t die!” he pleaded and his voice cracked, a sob caught in his throat, “Please don’t let her die!”
“Hey hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself. That’s not gonna happen, okay? It’s gonna work,” Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and tried to reassure him, but when he glanced over at you he knew he couldn’t make that promise. “Please work,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Where are you going? You can’t leave. Not yet.
Vecna’s voice was everywhere. Flooding every part of you and you feared you would never feel joy again. Would never escape this. Would be stuck here forever screaming into the void, hanging on Vecna’s every whim.
I would like very much to show you where I’m going. Please, take a seat.
And the vines yanked you down, squeezed tight around your wrists and legs and held you fast against the ground, rocks digging painfully into your back.
“Please, let me go!” you pleaded into the dark. “Please, I–” but your mouth went dry as a shadowy figure appeared through the ash. Coming closer and closer in the dark with each heavy step and when it finally stopped, feet at your head, your blood ran cold.
Wet, sinewy skin. Muscles exposed and stretched taut. Eyes that pierced your mind and knew every single one your thoughts. Knew all the dark things spiraling there and made them worse. Clawed at you with spindly, protruding hands and long, dagger-like claws and suffocated you with the smell of something rotten.
Of decay.
Of death.
Reaching a hand down, Vecna held it over your face, inches away from touching you as you struggled against your restraints, but they constricted tighter with your every move.
“Please,” you were crying openly now, tears cutting paths through the ash that had settled on your cheeks, but he ignored you.
I want you to tell your friends, I want you to tell them everything you see. Everything I show you.
“No, please!”
Tell them!
“No, I can’t–”
Tell them everything!
And then your head felt like was being cleaved in two. White hot light fracturing the black sky into thick shards and your screams were the only thing you could hear as Vecna pried open your mind and poured into you his vision for the future...
Hawkins in ruin.
Four gashes in the earth. Cavernous. Hot and angry and full of fire.
Your family. Lying scattered across your lawn. Motionless and still and limbs bent wrong.
Tell them!
Your friends hanging in the air just like Chrissy, Fred, Patrick.
Eyes empty, slack-jawed and lifeless, bones snapped like twigs.
Tell them!
Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Steve and–
“NO!” you screamed, the sound pulled painfully from your lungs as you felt your legs give way and collapsed into yourself.
“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”
Steve scrambled to grab hold of your shoulder and barely caught you before your bare knees hit the pavement.
You heard birds chirping. Sunlight filtering through the backs of your eyelids as you kept them squeezed shut, but the air was clean. Smelled fresh and as you slowly opened your eyes you realized you weren’t choking on ash anymore.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve was still holding onto you, your hands pressed into his thighs as you braced yourself, the feeling of nausea overwhelming.
“I saw him,” you whispered, only Steve could hear you and you started to cry.
“Him?” Steve asked unnecessarily, glancing up at Eddie. Hoping, no praying, if he asked maybe you’d give a different answer. One that wouldn’t involve death and the end of the world and everything hinging on this stupid fucking plan, but he knew.
Everyone knew.
Eyes glued on their feet. Arms folded over their chests and uneasy with the weight that had settled over the group.
“Vecna.”
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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love-studying58 · 3 months
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happy Masters of the Air release week. In honour of the series due to release on the 26th, I wanted to list a few faces we’ll be seeing throughout the series. I want to particularly note the crewmen of the 100th in hopes this makes sense to viewers who either a) didn’t have time to read any books based on the 100th bomb group, or b) want to read Masters of the Air by Donald L. Miller during/after the tv show aires. My lovely friend on tumblr @kylaym was happy to message me on instagram regarding who’s who for most of the 100th bomb group posts. She gets that everyone in uniform looks the same; same haircut, moustaches, masks, everywhere, etc. She mentioned it is always better to remember a bunch of lads as groups and crews than as individuals!
Here we gooo..
Colonel Neil “Chick” Harding
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A West Point graduate and the school’s football coach prior to the war. Harding was a seasoned aviator who truly emulated much of the 100th’s attitude. He exhibited an appreciation for his crew’s mental and emotional well-being.
Major John C. “Bucky” Egan and Major Gale “Buck” Cleven
Two of the squadron commanders, Majors John “Bucky” Egan of the 418th Bomb Squadron and Gale “Buck” Cleven of the 350th, had piloting skills which matched their personalities. (Found top row 3rd and 4th members from left to right).
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Captain John D. Brady
He served as a pilot in the 418th bomb squadron and was shot down during the mission to Munster on October 10th, 1943. (Shown here on the far left). He flew overseas in A/C #42-30071 “Skipper” as 1st Lt. Pilot. 2nd Lt’s being Lt. John L. Hoerr [Co-Pilot] and Lt. Harry Crosby [Group Navigator and Captain].
M/Sgt. Kenneth A. Lemmons
He served on the 351st Bomb Squadron and was one of the first crew chiefs assigned to the 100th Bomb Group. After being a part of the U.S. Air Force's ground crew, he was subsequently promoted to the position of flight chief. (Shown above in the front).
Harry H. Crosby
Harry served as a navigator in the 418th Bomb Squadron and later became Group Navigator for the Hundredth, however, his struggle with airsickness often hindered his ability to navigate. (Found above beside Brady on the right). Harry Crosby replaced Lt. Payne on the crew of Douglass.
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Payne is found above on the right, beside Harry Crosby.
Lt. Howard B. “Hambone” Hamilton
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He was a bombardier mostly known for flying with Brady’s crew.
On the October 10th Munster mission, crew #32 was led by Major John C. Egan as Co-Pilot. Near the initial point “Mlle Zig Zig” was hit by Flak, resulting in the following:
- Sgt Clanton passing away
- wounding Howard Hamilton and Roland Gangwer. (Both ended up spending a long time in the hospital).
- the surviving crew members bailed out but were taken prisoner.
Hamilton is seen above on the far left. Beside him on the left is Lt. James Douglass and Captain Frank Murphy.
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Captain James Douglass
Served as a bombardier in the 418th Bomb Squadron with the Everett Blakely crew. (Seen above in the first picture beside Blakely).
Major Everett E. Blakely
Was a career officer of the United States Air Force. He was a highly decorated pilot of the B-17 bomber with the Bloody Hundredth Bombardment Group of the 8th Air Force. He is most commonly known for his crew’s plane “Just a Snappin”. On a mission to Bremen on October 8th, 1943, his plane was severely damaged by flak and enemy fighters. He later became the Group Training Officer (Shown above on the right and next to Major John Egan in the second picture above).
Blakely’s Crew:
Major John Kidd- Command Pilot
1st Lt. Everett Blakely- Pilot
2nd Lt. Charles Via- Formation Officer in the tail (SWA on the mission during Black Week)
1st Lt. Harry Crosby - Navigator
2nd Lt. James Douglass - Bombadier
T/Sgt. Edmund Forkner - Radio operator
S/Sgt. William McClelland - Ball Turret Gunner (WIA on the Black Week mission)
S/Sgt. Edward Yevich - Waist Gunner (WIA on the Black Week mission)
S/Sgt. Lyle Nord - Waist Gunner
S/Sgt. Lester Saunders - Tail Gunner (KIA on the Black Week mission)
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Lt Roy Claytor
Roy Claytor was part of the 350th Squadron. Above, he may be flying as a command pilot in this mission or practice with the Claytor Crew.
He is seen above on the left, beside Cleven.
Major Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal
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Rosie joins the unit in late 1943. He becomes one of the 100th's most reliable pilots.
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Rosenthal's Crew:
[Shown left to right; top row than bottom row]
Sgt. Loren Darling - Waist Gunner
Sgt. Michael V. Boccuzzi - Radio Operator/Gunner
Sgt. John H. Shaffer - Waist Gunner
Sgt. Clarence C. Hall - Top turret gunner/engineer
Sgt. William J. DeBlasio - Tail Gunner
Sgt. Ray H. Robinson - Ball Turret Gunner
Lt. Ronald C. Bailey - Navigator
Lt. Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal - Pilot
Lt. Clifford J. Milburn - Bombardier
Lt. Winifred 'Pappy' Lewis - Copilot
Lt. Curtis Biddick
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Lieutenant Curtis Biddick was known as a ‘hard luck’ pilot but was recognised as exceptionally expert and courageous. ‘Every time he went out something seemed to happen,’ said one of his buddies. On one raid he brought his plane back with 1,700 shell and bullet holes in it and two wounded men aboard.
He clashes due to his English colleagues embarking on night-time raids.
Richard Snyder
Biddick's co-pilot and was part of the 418th Bombardment Squadron.
Okay.... So I truly hope this helps going into Masters of the Air tomorrow. I can't wait to see all the bomber boys spread their wings and fly. This tv series is going to be an absolute wreck (in the best way possible). Thank you to everyone who enjoys my posts. Love y'all.
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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 months
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eggs in heaven
Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairing: Gale "Buck" Cleven/John "Bucky" Egan Rating: T Word Count: 1205
Summary: Curious, the body, what it’d absorb and what it would not. Was Gale’s still his, or only as much as that powdered breakfast was still eggs?
There wasn’t much about it that made Gale believe they were the kind of heroes the girls in the photographs they stuck to the display with chomped gum wanted them to be.
He lost time circling the plane, looking at where they’d been punctured like a fork through aluminum foil. It was easier than seeing the boys in the base hospital, the bodies. Shot up like the planes, but with dark, thick blood clogging the holes instead of air whistling through. Crazy. The same stuff you wanted lifting your wings was the stuff waiting to rush in and pull you down, freeze you up, deafen you and fill your sight with rising smoke. Gale hadn’t thought it would be like that.
He’d heard someone say the C. O. greeted the base by spewing his powdered eggs across the tarmac and then passing out. Gale ran a hand down his face to ensure he wouldn’t do the same, but the idea didn’t seem half bad. When he got in the jeep next to John and John told him he hadn’t known what to say (and so had said nothing), Gale wanted to grab his head and smash it down into the steering wheel until his nose snapped. He also wanted to lay his temple on John’s knee and feel John’s hand combing through his hair like his mother’s used to. He wanted to be touched like that by someone who’d seen the kind of things he himself had just experienced: held, or if not held, held down. Just until he stopped feeling like he was falling. Three planes were blazing in his mind, though of course he hadn’t seen the fall or the flames or the smoke through all those clouds.
Elegance—that was what they’d been sold, not that it was a hard sell. You saw the painted planes on the posters, the gold shine of sunrise on the propellors, on the wings, glinting off the windscreen. For the cost of your body and everything in it, you could fly one of those planes. You could tilt your face skyward in Casper, Wyoming or Beaumont, Texas or Boston, Massachusetts and see that there were clouds up there that appeared to exist just to be punched gloriously through. And you could be the one to do it, be more than a man. A creature of the sky.
Whatever grace they’d gained on the ascent had been lost with the rattling of the guns, if not before. Gale wondered, was it still beautiful with the windows shot out, the German planes in their crosshairs and them in theirs? Would it be beautiful again, he wanted to ask John.
He prayed for the drive down the runway to take longer than the flight to Bremen, and tugged his hat down tight so he wouldn’t feel the wind in his hair.
Up there, he’d contemplated the likelihood of whether he’d ever eat a real egg again; a real goddamn sunshine-centered egg. He should’ve thought of his family, or Marge, but the narrow sliver of Gale’s brain not preoccupied with flying a plane through enemy airspace had been imagining teasing a knife across the surface of a swollen yolk until it ran. Sopping it all up with generously buttered bread. He was hungry, he realized. Starving.
Like he’d been awaiting the realization, John said, “Are you hungry?”
Gale replied, “You bet. Starving.”
“Interrogation first, then we’ll get some food in you. It helps with the shaking.”
Gale glanced down at his hands, squeezing them into fists. Had John actually checked, or was it just a guess based on two missions flown? The bumps of bullets and turbulence, travelling through the bomber and up into the men who flew and crewed it. Curious, the body, what it’d absorb and what it would not. Was Gale’s still his, or only as much as that powdered breakfast was still eggs?
He flattened his hands on his thighs, but the shaking had only grown worse; he saw John look over at them.
“Here,” John demanded, now gripping the wheel with his left hand, the right extended towards Gale. “Give it here.”
Gale laughed, scoffed.
“What?” he asked in disbelieving amusement.
John just gave his hand an impatient flick, eyes ahead. He turned off the runway, towards the barracks. Unsure what his friend was up to but having put a hell of a lot more trust in men who’d been, essentially, strangers before wheels-up, Gale slid his palm into John’s. John dropped their hands below the height of the jeep’s body.
Gale couldn’t tell whether his hand was still trembling, because John was squeezing the life out of it. His face was passive, eyes squinting but untroubled. It didn’t remind Gale of holding hands with Marge. It wasn’t anything like that, wasn’t romantic or possessive. He couldn’t really understand the purpose to it, unless it was to distract him through confusion.
“Is this something they taught you when they made you Air Exec?” Gale asked jokingly.
“Does it feel like somebody taught me?” John parried, light but not joking, serious but not offended.
Now, what the hell did that mean? That John was a natural? That John held the hands of the men for whom he was responsible whenever they came back with the jitters? Or the opposite—that he’d had no practice? It was just impulse, maybe, because they were friends, because it was strange, but who gave a good goddamn about strange when they’d droned across the sky willing every burst to miss their bomb-laden plane? That was abnormal.
Gale felt something surging in him and jerked John’s arm. John whipped neatly off the road, parking in the shadow of the woods. Gale burst from the jeep.
“Are you going to be sick?” John demanded, circling the hood to grab Gale’s shoulders, taking fistfuls of his jacket.
Sure enough, Gale was breathing hard, heat in his face like he knew he did get before vomiting, but it wasn’t that. He felt hot-headed without being angry, determined without an aim. All he seemed to be able to do was take John’s hands from his shoulders and clasp them in his own.
“I know,” John said, soft.
Gale shook his head, but John tugged down hard on his hands, stepping in close. They hit hats.
“I know,” again, their knuckles all knotted together when John lifted their hands to bracket Gale’s face.
“How’d I get out?” Gale spat. “How the hell’d I make it back here?”
“’Cause it’s us two, Buck. Hell if I’m letting you die first. Me without you: I don’t even know what that means.”
“No—”
John wrenched their fingers apart and flung the hat from his head. Maybe before it touched the grass, his face was tilted enough to miss Gale’s brim and Gale felt the pressure of John’s warm, dry mouth on his own.
Then John was stooping for his hat, brushing it hard and quick against his pantleg, settling it back on his head with a little twist to fit it snug. Gale could feel his heartbeat in his lips. He felt so high up that he couldn’t see the ground, even though he was standing on it.
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theos-fics · 11 months
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Business Vs. Pleasure (17+)
Leon S. Kennedy x afab! Reader (gender not specified!!)
Word count: 2, 734
Prompt generator fic!
 ‘’Y/n and Kennedy go on a camping trip. Y/n forgets to bring a sleeping bag, so they have to squeeze into Kennedy's sleeping bag with them. ‘’
Tw: Sexual activity (17/18+), vulgar descriptions, fingering, makeout, Leon lowkey being a sub
⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫。˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫。˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫。˚  
It’s not everyday you get to go to work out in the wilderness, or close enough that it’s unusual. Leon was not ignoring the fact that the “wilderness” that he was to be working in was infested with the C-Virus, and he was sent back to Spain to clean up anything that was able to escape from the island that Asheley Graham was trapped on; it was better to be safe than sorry, he guessed. What he was not aware of was that he was being sent with one of the agency's newer Agents, who seemed more than willing to do whatever was asked of them. It reminded him of who he was before Raccoon city. Ignorantly following every order that was given to him, and they were almost the same. Luckily for you, the rookie, Kennedy was hoping that your first day would be a little lighter than his.
It wasn’t every day people who were simple law enforcement were sought out by the United States government. Unlike those who worked around you, you believed you were at least a little more experienced than they thought you were. You had worked in the profession as soon as you could out of high school and climbed the ranks throughout your years of hard work and effort, and your effort paid off in the long run because you were making far more money than anyone in your department could dream of. That was what had been on your mind as you rode in the passenger side backseat of the older car in which Leon sat beside you. There was one of the local law enforcement men driving both of you to the “undisclosed” location so both of you could investigate and make sure that nothing escaped from that island. 
“How much longer?” Leon asked the driver and leaned over so he could look at the driver over the middle console, his brows furrowed so the hard ridges on his face were more noticeable. Ever since you had been introduced to Agent Kennedy you noticed one primary thing about him; that he was perpetually stressed out. His stress lines burned into his young face even though he couldn’t be older than his late twenties. It was rude to ask anyone their age, so you simply never gave in. “We will arrive there in a few minutes. The extraction point will be on the other side of the forest. The coast side. A helicopter will arrive to take you back.” The driver spoke with a Spanish accent, never averting his eyes from the road as he spoke to Leon. With the response your partner leaned back in his seat and sighed, leaning his head up against the window while you looked over to him- was training a rookie this bad? You had gotten well acquainted with Leon through your collaboration on a lot of intel. Most of your work for the Government had been office based so far, but maybe that is where Leon wanted you to stay.
Your driver suddenly slowed in front of a cleared out patch in the forest, the gravel on the side of the road making the car shake and both you as well as your partner reached out to brace yourselves. Both of you looked at each other and he smiled lightly, “you’re not used to off-roading either, huh?” You smiled and laughed in response, shaking your head as you looked around at what seemed to be an endless forest. “We’re here. Out now. I am late to lunch because of you two.” Leon was the first to get out, you following suit and heading to the trunk to unload anything you two had brought. Leon seemed far more prepared, a whole duffle bag of supplies slung across his shoulder and his trademark bomber jacket. Maybe this is why people didn’t like rookies, because you packed a few weapons and a jacket. Without thinking twice, you simply grabbed your things and closed the trunk. Leon slapped the rear of the car with his hand which seemed to signal the driver to speed off. After getting a face full of dust you both began your unsure descent into the forest, you following at the heel of your superior and making sure to keep an eye on whatever he couldn’t.
The bare minimum that you had been told is that the Federal Government had figured out that there was a docktown that had a sister town where those from the island were traveling to and from, which needed to be checked out. The files assured that there was a small chance that there was anyone there since most of them were a part of the cult that Leon had been tasked with taking care of. It was a cool place despite being Spain; the jacket being a good decision on both you and Leon’s part since you were already chilly with the sun out. It was a beautiful place without a doubt, an array of mosses and trees scattering the area along with some wildlife which would scurry off as soon as they noticed you walking through the forest. You were quiet now, you weren't sure if it was because you were unaware of what to talk about with Leon, or because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to talk now that you two were actually out. Your partner took notice of your apprehension, turning his head some to look back at you, “You know you’re a great rookie, far better than I was when I first started this job,” he praised, “I actually request you when I make my case reports.” The compliment made you smile. Bashful in a way as you responded, “you’re really easy to work with on the reports. Most of our colleagues are a little stubborn with their work.” He laughed in response, slowing to be able to talk to you easier and continuing the conversation further.
You were at the edge of a village before the two of you knew it, Leon quieting after noticing the buildings in the distance and putting a finger to his lips to halt the conversation. Both of you began your silent investigation of the town. Being empty from the outside though both of you knew you were there to make sure that it was actually empty. It was later in the day now as well, so it made both of you more apprehensive to walk around. “I’ll take the right side, you take the left.” Leon whispered and you nodded, both heading in your respective directions. The left of the village was mostly made of what seemed like stores or storage buildings, having to use a flashlight as the day fell into dusk and the forest prohibiting any of the setting sun’s light to come into the village. The only living creatures you had found within the buildings were rats and birds, making use of empty and uninhabited shelters to use for themselves. While you were exploring the upstairs of your building you heard a creak from the floor behind you, whirling around and pointing your light along with your gun at the noise; which was Leon. His hands up as he smiled mischievously, “A lot quicker than I thought,” he commented.“That’s why I got hired.” You quipped back. He responded positively, nodding in agreement as he looked around the building.
It was one of the few that you had found that was not rat infested nor too dirty to even breathe properly in. Leon’s eyes darted around before looking back to you and motioning around, “We should shack up here for the night.” He pulled his duffle bag from around his shoulders and dropped it on the floor, “if there are infected around you don’t want to fight them in the dark. Trust me.” With the way he grimaced after his statement you decided to trust him on that and placed your gun back into your gun belt. You stood there as he unpacked a few blankets and a pillow for himself; you looked a little dumb now, you must admit, but nobody told you this job was going to be an overnight thing! Leon looked up at you as you stood there, raising a brow and speaking, “you didn’t bring anything to sleep on, did you?” He didn’t seem disappointed by any means, a blanket in one of his hands as he looked at you expectantly. “I wasn’t told this was going to be a sleepover,” you mused, “I would have brought one of those personality quiz magazines and a sports magazine to ogle at shirtless boys.” Leon chuckled as he gestured to the poorly made palette in front of him and spoke, “Well, you can share mine with me- I have enough blankets for two.” The idea made your face flush, smiling at him in thanks, “I would appreciate that, Leon. Nothing like getting up close and personal with a coworker, Right?”
It wasn’t weird or anything laying beside Leon, he was a nice guy and everything so he gave you the appropriate space, of course. Then you two ended up talking petty opinions like superior pets and such. It was a mildly mind numbing conversation that had both of you eventually dozing off, a stiff sleep considering you were laying on the floor. Though, it was sleeping nonetheless. It was mostly dreamless. You woke up prematurely with your face in the crook of his neck and one of his arms resting on your hip. Obviously since both of you were asleep there wasn’t anything unprofessional about the position. But now that you were well aware of how inappropriate this would be if you were both awake, it made you flush- it made you feel hot, almost. It wasn’t like you and Leon had tension or anything, friendly office banter and playful flirting when you two were alone working on something. It was playful, wasn’t it? With his firm chest against your own it didn’t feel as playful. A burn stirring in your abdomen as you are suddenly very aware of where Leon is and where he is not. Everything was burning and you could only act like his breath on the shell of your ear only felt cool because you were burning up, everything felt like it was embers on your skin.
For some reason you moved your head from his neck and looked up to him, meeting his glassy blue eyes before gulping and wondering why your mouth was so dry right now. His lips were parted as he looked at you, “I thought you were asleep Leon- I would have moved if you had told me you were awake, you know that right? I mean I-” you were interrupted with his hand that was under your head gripping your face to get you to stop rambling. Again you met his eyes, pupils blown in an almost cartoonish fashion as he watched your lips pucker from the grip he had on your cheeks. “Can I kiss you?” Leon gasped, like he had been waiting to say that and with the desperateness of his tone you would not be surprised if he had been. Nodding since his grip prohibited you from speaking properly he leaned in and pressed a kiss to you, oddly domestic for the way that he was acting in the moment though it somehow caused the burn in your belly to worsen. It was gentle, how could someone of his strength be so soft. He seemed baffled when he pulled away, letting go of your face again which let you get a short breath of air before he was back at your lips again; his passion showed through this time, his arm on your hip moving so that he could grip into the flesh that he could almost feel through your pants.For some reason you moved your head from his neck and looked up to him, meeting his glassy blue eyes before gulping and wondering why your mouth was so dry right now. His lips were parted as he looked at you, “I thought you were asleep, Leon- I would have moved if you had told me you were awake, you know that, right? I mean, I-” you were interrupted with his hand that was under your head. Gripping your face to get you to stop rambling. Again, you met his eyes- pupils blown in an almost cartoonish fashion as he watched your lips pucker from the grip he had on your cheeks. “Can I kiss you?” Leon gasped, like he had been waiting to say that and with the desperateness of his tone you would not be surprised if he had been. Nodding, since his grip prohibited you from speaking properly, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to you. Oddly domestic for the way that he was acting in the moment. Though, it somehow caused the burn in your belly to worsen. It was gentle. How could someone of his strength be so soft? He seemed baffled when he pulled away, letting go of your face again which let you get a short breath of air before he was back at your lips again. His passion showed through this time. His arm on your hip moving so that he could grip into the flesh that he could almost feel through your pants.
When he pulled away there was a bit of drool on the corner of his lip, neither of you really bothering with it as he moved the hand on your hip to your abdomen and gulped. Feeling where the waist of your pants were and looking up at you. His eyes were still glassy, though there was a part of you that was almost certain that this was because of his seemingly desperate need to feel whatever lay beyond the confines of your pants. Without thinking you nodded and he moved one of his arms down to unbutton your pants and then unzipped them. Not caring further as he moved his hand up to his mouth and licked his fingers before moving them back down. He pressed his hand flat against your belly before sliding them past your underwear and into your heat, both of you gasping at the feeling. You were wetter than you thought; the feeling of his cool hands making you shiver unconsciously. Leon whined similarly, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth of your pussy. Maybe the months of pent up tension from the office was finally making itself known, or maybe two people on the floor together were just meant to be but neither of you cared at that moment. As long as no infected thing stumbled its way into your little room you two couldn’t care less.
He was like a man starved as he stuffed his fingers inside of you. Thrusting them into your cunt with abandon as you pressed your face into the curve of his neck- propping your leg up onto his hip to give him better access to what he clearly sought out. Unbeknownst to you, Leon was getting off on his own. The hot feeling swelling over you making you ignore the feeling of his bulge rubbing against your other thigh. Leon was painfully skilled with his fingers. Feeling as your hips stuttered into him when he curled his finger against the fleshy spot inside of you and he kept curling. The nerves were alight between your legs as you began tearing up from the intensity of his fingers, angling his palm so everytime you jutted your hips it pressed your swollen clit up against the heel of his hand. It took you a minute to realize that his heel was your stimulation. Finally starting to buck your hips enough to rub the sensitive nub against his calloused hand to get any stimulation that you possibly could. It was sweltering now, him whining out loud as he got off on the squelch of your pussy and any breathless sound you made. Even without any light you could feel the heat of his face in your neck, his lips starting to prod at your neck as he tried to quiet himself down. Even though you were the one he was working on, he sounded pitiful as he cried and whined at the feeling of your slick drenching his hand.
Soon you were erratic with your hips at the feeling of your clit rubbing against Leon’s palm. You yourself moaned out as he sped up his fingers and arched his wrist to meet your own thrusts. Your lower belly was tense as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss, your pitch heightening as Leon’s finger curled one last time and you cried out, moving your hands up into his hair and pulling on it as he whimpered at the feeling. He was not far behind you with a pathetic whine and his hips twitching, his eyes rolling back as he stilled his grinding against you. It was a moment of tense silence before Leon pulled his fingers from your pussy with a discontented whine from you, wrapping that arm around your waist and pulling you into him again and pressing his face into your chest. “You are so hot.” he said bluntly, which in response, you giggled. Your brain was still foggy from his precise fingers. After another few moments of silence you gained feeling back over your body, a wet spot being felt on the space before your knee. “Leon, did you get off on my knee?” you asked breathlessly. A flush overwhelming your face again as he looked up at you lazily. “If you just go to sleep I will wake you up with another treat,” he offered. A dazed look on his face as he looked up to you with those puppy dog eyes. “Deal.”
⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫。˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫。˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫。˚  
Edited by: Max
Written by: theo's-fics
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So was nobody gonna tell me about the theory that Cody is Onyx Prime Reincarnated
MY MIND IS BLOWN
Like it's absolutely insane but IT ALSO EXPLAINS A TON AND I CAN'T REALLY ARGUE-
Like I love Cody, he's an ADORABLE bean, and probably one of the best human characters in the franchise. he's just a sweet lil bean who genuinely wanted to befriend Cybertronians and managed to single handedly be the ENTIRE reason the team got their act together at all, the ONLY reason Heatwave gave humans a chance, and not only did Heatwave give him a chance, HE BASICALLY FUCKING ADOPTED THE KID.
But EVERYONE I have ever seen is C O N F U S E D as to why. WHY is this Kid gifted with Godly empathy and communication skills that stump and get grown adults and LITERAL ALIENS to change their entire frame of mind, going from ready to fucking throw hands to talking civilly in a matter of seconds!!!! KIDS DON'T DO THAT. CODY IS ONLY EIGHT. YEARS. OLD. AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SHOW, 14 BY SEASON 4, AND PROBABLY 16-17 BY RBA.
.... So here's why I love this theory.
IT. EXPLAINS. THINGS.
(after days of obsessive Onyx Prime research)
-Oynx Prime's main abilities were his communication skills/Empathy, something that would probably carry over in Reincarnation. In fact, I've seen TONS of people theorize that Onyx was Reincarnated as Cody for the purpose of guiding the rescue bots, who would ultimately go on to change the course of Human/Cybertronian relations as a whole!
In fact, Cody has connected with Cybertronians SO WELL, Whirl casually dropped in an episode of RBA that sometimes, THE RECRUITS F O R G E T THAT CODY ISN'T CYBERTRONIAN.
THEY FREAKING FORGET THAT HE'S A HUMAN
.... What if Cody happens to fit in so well with Cybertronians.... Because he has a Spark?????
-Onyx Prime has massive wings. Cody is CONSTANTLY associated with Flight across the show. He wears a Bomber Jacket, uses a hoverboard, briefly used those rocket shoe things, and constantly rides along with Blades and Dani.
-Onyx Prime's Alt-Mode is a Griffin. Not only does the show constantly address the mythology of Griffins (and TFP says Predacons were actually responsible for Earth's mythological creatures in the first place), but the show LITERALLY TAKES PLACE ON AN ISLAND CALLED "Griffin Rock"
Lastly, I'm not sure if this counts,
But one thing about Cody has bugged me literally the entire show. Legit, as long as I've loved rescue bots, this has bugged me.
Cody's blonde hair.
i know this sounds stupid, but... THE KID'S HAIR MAKES NO SENSE.
Charlie has been show to have had brown hair when he was younger. Dani and Kade are both bright redheads, Graham is kinda a reddish brown.
if Charlie had brown hair, then than implies that the mom was a redhead, right???
So where's the Blonde come from????
I'm not claiming to be an expert in either Genetics, Reincarnation, or Onyx Prime.
But.......
This is the only answer I have, so, I'M ROLLING WITH IT
Cody Burns, human with a Spark!
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arbitrarygreay · 9 months
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Kitaaaaaaaa T&C and MKB Of the mainstream artists, we still have Country and Coconuts. Then we'll get to the REAL questions, like Sheki-Dol and the borderline soloists (Heike, Miyoshi, Ishii).
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jimmystrudel · 3 days
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Part 2 of ranking 2024 WAG jackets
part 1 & part 3 (and VGK whenever that's posted)
6. Nashville Predators - Emma Barrie’s IG story (thank you @thepassionthatunitesusall for telling me where to find them)
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It’s hard to tell what they are made out of but I think it’s fake leather which i don’t like
I do like that they are cream, not white, and that they are embroidered not ironed on patches or graphic t-shirt emblazing
I think these might be my favourite patches quality wise
Overall they are really classic and look comfy but aren’t very original so LA beats them
7. New York Rangers - 1. wagsofrangerstown IG, 2. natoriner23 on tiktok 
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 For the first game the WAGs and kids all came in jerseys which is considered a bit of a taboo in the NHL WAG world (idk go watch Lexi’s videos on it) and since they had tons of time to plan this, it felt like a powermove and the full group photos of it are super cute (i love when the babies match)
Also Key’s mom has a jacket and if they have mom/family jackets I will scream, that is so cute
For the jacket itself, this is the only picture of it I’ve seen so idk what the front look like but the back is fine?
I like signatures a lot, they are always cute, but painted, cropped, baggy pleather isn’t interesting and they could have done so much more
8. Washington Capitals - Madison Aube Kubel’s IG
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I didn't get great screenshots of this so go to her page if you want to see more
I absolutely hated these when I first saw, thought they were going to be giant pleather monstrosities but then I saw Madison Aube Kubel’s reel of her making her own since she forgot to submit her order on time and they grew on me
They seem like they are made out of a satiny/normal bomber jacket material
This is my favourite of the caps logos and I am glad they used it and the back looks good but I don’t like the giant numbers on the front, you know they are super stiff and you can’t sit down while it is buttoned up without it looking really weird
I don’t love it, I don’t hate it, I just wouldn’t design it
9. Edmonton Oilers - Lauren Kyle’s IG
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As previously stated, I don’t like minimalism so they lose a few points, but these really strongly give bad bitch, cool unrealistic tv motorcycle gang
I’m 99% sure they are real leather since they are stiffer and in some close ups you could see skin texture (if it wasn’t obvious I really like real leather)
I like that it is actual stitching, instead of being painted
One personal really big pet peeve is that the c in McDavid should be lowercase
10. Florida Panthers - 1. floridapantherswags IG, found the other on tiktok a few days ago
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According to God (Lexi) they have matching pants (seen partially on the right) with the number one of the back pockets, most of the women in the group photo aren’t wearing them so like do they not like their own outfits??
I really like the stitching detail on the back but not having the last name be in that giant open space on their shoulders looks really awkward so they should have put the name there (since they aren’t who they are with since they have numbers) or removed the line of white stitching and made everything else bigger
I also don’t like a baggy jacket if it’s meant to be paired with jeans where the detail is on the butt, like if they were committing to the pants they should have cropped it
I think if they wanted to keep the pants and no last name they should have made vests instead of jackets since the sleeves aren’t doing much
11. Colorado Avalanche -Sussanna Ranta’s IG story
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This is the only picture of these that I have seen and they really just look like jackets, nothing special
I tiktok I think I saw something about them having caps that match with the numbers on them but hats are fucking lame
These are just aggressively mid and kind of disappointing
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I don’t really know how to explain this without sounding rude again this TK dude but like… I always said I had basically the same taste in men as Taylor, like even YB with the limited info I had on him when they started dating I could see the appeal. She had a type very aligned to mine. So I have been completely shocked about her dating this NFL dude because there isn’t a universe where I could find him attractive, at all. He’s so not my type that I rather not see him, i don’t think he’s a bad guy but he kind of makes me think of one bc he looks like the stereotypical american dude that is a douche. And Like I get that’s maybe his appeal, the different type, but… wow. What a change in taste. Bc this guy is not only unattractive… personality wise? What i’ve seen so far seems very… attention grabbing but not in a good way. He seems to never shut up… and after years of not hearing anything about her rs this constant stream of news being like: TK said this, TK said that… is giving me whiplash. Like I get she doesn’t want to be again with a guy who won’t speak about her… but this completely the other extreme, and i doubted she wanted that either…
I just can’t get what she sees in him
Oh my goodness, Anon, YES. To virtually all of this.
I have never before had to work this hard to wrap my head around what Blondie sees in a partner. I can imagine it, sure. (Our views do not align. At all. But I can imagine what she sees.) But in the past? All the other times? I immediately understood. I didn’t always like the guys—JM creeped me out at one of his concerts I attended pre-Blondie, early on CH seemed unfaithful and kind of petty, and MH is a giant, privileged child—but it wasn’t hard for me to identify the reasons why she did.
Prior to this, these men seemed to be: handsome, lanky guys who were either kind and charismatic charmers (sometimes love bombers, which was a problem), were polite and articulate British men, or BOTH. The intersection of those two is my personal preference. Here are some of my celebrity crushes over the years (a few I discovered while watching things years after they debuted).
Charismatic charmers:
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Articulate British men (some also charmers):
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So her attraction to JJ or JG, or to Harry/TH/YB, and even her childhood crush on Justin T, who I loathe, made sense. (Was always a JC C girl myself, lol. And justice for Janet and Britney!)
This seems like whiplash; you are not alone in thinking that.
I am trying to view this as I do with my friends when they date partners I do not like: I am there for them. I love them (which does not shift even if I do not care for their partners). And yeah - my husband gets an earful. But I show up for them. I can do both things at once.
Hear that, Anons I have had to block? I am fine with this duality: being a Blondie fan while not being a fan of her partner. Both of these can be true.
But I haaaate that I am being forcefed TK content simply because I am a Blondie fan. I like HER. Don’t punish me by sending me content I am actively trying to avoid (men who look like him, and anything to do with the problematic NFL).
And Anon - thank you for this detailed ask.
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destinyc1020 · 11 months
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I’ve just been having a look on Rotten Tomatoes audience score, and I’ve noticed something strange is going on. I think the hate mob are trying to spam negative reviews on the audience score. Or at least one person is anyway.
I noticed every time there was a few positive reviews, there would be two or three negatives straight after. And they all seemed to be constructed the same way. So I had a look at them. And these 8 names below have given TCR a half a star out of 5. When I looked on their profile, they have all only reviewed one other review in the past, and that is for the movie, Tetris, where they have given it half a star. What are the odds that these 8 people have reviewed both Tetris and TCR, and given them bad reviews. And have no other reviews. I’ve sent a couple of images to prove my point. This is one person doing this. I have reported them. I don’t think it’s going to do much good though.
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Cheryl M
Martin V
Karyna T
Kenneth C
Robert A
Amanda P
Joseph K
Lisa R
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🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
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Ooop! Well well well.... What do we have here??
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👀
Sounds like you caught some Review Bombers on RT Anon lol. 😅🤣
No surprise there!
Like I said, after I saw what happened with "The Little Mermaid", I definitely don't put my full trust in even "Audience Reviews" these days.
I've been ignoring critics for years lol.... But now, I'm not even putting my full trust in audience reviews anymore. Those reviewers haven't even seen the entire series, so how can they even possibly say that it's the "worst show ever". Like, seriously?? 😒 Just LIKE What you LIKE, and don't give two cents of a care about it.
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bxtxnx · 2 months
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howdy! I'm a Sagittarius sun (12h), cancer moon,(7h) Capricorn rising + mercury(1h), and Scorpio Venus + mars (both 10h). masc-presenting fyi
I most often wear blue jeans, plain neutral color t-shirts, patterned polos or collared button-up. I have brown leather belts that I always wear. For casual comfy clothes, I usually wear my blue harem pants and a black hoodie.
My question is: what sort of shoes, and outer wear might enhance my style while complimenting my placements?
Thank you for doing this, I hope you're having fun c:
Hi!
For shoes, black lace up boots (or dark brown) will look ideal with the type of clothes you wear often and will compliment your placements perfectly. You can wear this type of boots with everything that you mentioned - plain t-shirts, patterned polos and collared button ups.
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With these tops that you've mentioned, paired with jeans, your outfits will also go really well with some sneakers that are leaning towards the business-casual style.
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You can go for other dark colors like dark brown, dark grey or dark blue (or any other very dark shade), but black and dark brown will be the easiest colors to pair and are guaranteed to go with anything.
As for outer wear, you can go for various types of jackets, like puffer coats, bomber jackets and others, as long as you stick to darker colors and clean designs, without too much patterns or logos going on. Varsity jackets and leather jackets will fit your placements and style particularly well. ☽
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usafphantom2 · 6 months
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The B-47 that flew the largest Nuclear Bomb ever built to Spain
Designed to meet a 1944 requirement, the first XB-47 prototype flew in December 1947, performing far beyond its competitors. It incorporated many advanced features for the time, including swept wings, jet engines in underwing pods, fuselage mounted main landing gear and automated systems that reduced the standard crew size to three.
SR-71 T-Shirts
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CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.
In May 1951 the B-47 began replacing the propeller-driven B-29s and B-50s in US Air Force Strategic Air Command (SAC)’s medium bomber units. While it could carry about the same bomb tonnage as the aircraft it replaced, the B-47’s top speed was more than 200 mph faster.
B-47 Stratojet nuclear bomber
As a result of its capabilities, the B-47 Stratojet became an essential component of the SAC during the 1950s and early 1960s, both as a nuclear bomber and a reconnaissance aircraft.
Since the B-47 did not have the range of SAC’s heavy bombers (the B-36 and later the B-52), Stratojet units regularly deployed to forward air bases around the world on temporary duty, as my father Richard “Butch” Sheffield (former B-47 navigator/bombardier, former B-58 navigator/bombardier and former SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer (RSO)) recalls in his unpublished book “The Very First.”
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B-47 navigator/bombardier recalls when his Stratojet flew the largest Nuclear Bomb ever built to Spain
Richard “Butch” Sheffield is on the far right in the photo. His crew was named Best B-47 crew in 1960
Flying to Spain with Mark 36
‘In the summer of 1959, our Wing moved its overseas operating location from Fairford, Royal Air Force Base, in the United Kingdom (UK) to a Spanish Air Force Base at Moron, Spain near Seville.
‘In order to get our nuclear weapons to Spain we just flew them in our B-47’s. This way we did not have to down load them from our alert status in the UK. Our primary weapon was the Mark 36. It weighed twenty thousand pounds, completely filled the B-47 bomb bay and had a seven-megaton yield. This was the largest nuclear bomb ever produced.
‘The normal way of moving nuclear weapons was by Military Air Lift. The weapons were safe, off loaded from the bombers, place into heavy lift aircraft like C-130, C-97 or later, C-5’s.
Carrying the largest Nuclear Bomb ever produced
‘So, flying them in the bomber was very unusual. Also, when the B-47 was full of fuel, with tip tanks fully loaded and the Mark 36 loaded our center of gravity (CG) was far aft of normal. We could not land with the bomb onboard and fuel in the tip tanks. We have to burn the fuel out of the tip tanks or drop the bomb to get the CG forward to land.
‘The route to Moron took us right over the Capital City of Spain, Madrid. As I flew over Madrid with this very large Hydrogen bomb, I could help but think, what do those people on the ground think is flying over them today? We even made a simulated bomb run on them.’
B-47 navigator/bombardier recalls when his Stratojet flew the largest Nuclear Bomb ever built to Spain
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Mark 36 nuclear bomb
Flying home over Bermuda Triangle
‘Dad used to have a perplexed look on his face when he would talk about flying through the Bermuda triangle telling me that there really was something strange about it.
‘When it came time to rotate back home to Little Rock, my CO-pilot, Jim McCracken, and I came up with a way to get home sooner than normal. We would land at the Azores; refuel than were going to fly all the way home on one tank of gas going over Bermuda.
‘Everything was going well, right on fuel plans until we passed Bermuda, than we ran into the jet stream, two hundred-knot head winds, that were not forecast. We were lucky to make it to the East Coast. I have never seen, before or sense, headwinds like that. The jet stream never goes that far South.
‘We landed at Hunter, AFB, SC. on the East Coast. Flew home to Little Rock the next day.’
Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter Page Habubrats SR-71 and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.
B-47 navigator/bombardier recalls when his Stratojet flew the largest Nuclear Bomb ever built to Spain
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Photo credit: U.S. Air Force and Linda Sheffield Miller
Linda Sheffield Miller
Grew up at Beale Air Force Base, California. I am a Habubrat. Graduated from North Dakota State University. Former Public School Substitute Teacher, (all subjects all grades). Member of the DAR (Daughters of the Revolutionary War). I am interested in History, especially the history of SR-71. Married, Mother of three wonderful daughters and four extremely handsome grandsons. I live near Washington, DC.
@Habubrats71 via X
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