#i literally live at the end of a navy runway

[wearerandomlyyours]

Friend: Why are you still so obsessed with Top Gun?

Me: *Watching the Navy F-18s take off from my balcony* No idea.

#top gun #top gun maverick #own stuff #i literally live at the end of a navy runway #it is NOT helping #six super hornets flew over while i typed this post

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 12

Well, this story is complete. I finished it on Friday and will be fully uploaded in two weeks. With chapters 14/15 next week on the 31st and 16/17 on April 7th.

This has been one hell of a ride. I never thought I would ever do omegaverse. But this one just demanded to be written.

TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

Eddie takes Steve shopping and they go the Grammy's.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Steve loved shopping. It was his favorite thing in the world. He especially loved it when he went with Chrissy or Robin or sometimes even both. But he was finding out that shopping with Eddie was special.

“I’m going to rock your world, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured when they entered the shop.

It was all high end, naturally. But it was the type of stuff Steve would have bought for himself back in high school.

“Eddie...” he whined a little.

It was sweet, it really was. But he couldn’t wear the ‘uniform’ of a omega housewife. Not anymore.

“Just wait, darlin’,” Eddie whispered, “it’s gonna be good.”

Just then a man came over. He was short, barely 5’5”. He had warm brown skin and silver hair.

“Hello, loves,” he said, voice as warm as his skin tone. His accent was the vaguely British of someone who had lived in the United States for a long time.

“Hello,” Eddie greeted, kissing him on each cheek. “Steve, this is Raj. Raj, this is Steve Harrington, he’s a Starcourt omega.”

Raj clasped his hands together. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve.”

Eddie turned to Steve. “Raj is a professional stylist. He’s dressed me for many an event and he’s going to help you find your style.”

Steve smiled at him. Because of course Eddie was only trying to help and not make him feel inferior about liking a style that he couldn’t wear.

“Come on, love,” Raj said, “tell me what you like.”

And so Steve did just that.

They spent the afternoon trying on several different combinations and styles that Steve felt like he was a runway model to the crowd of one.

Eddie sat on a big, white, overstuffed armchair and made comments on everything Steve tried on.

Three hours later, Steve was walking out of the store in a navy blue striped polo and tight fitted jeans and several bags filled with clothes of a similar style.

Steve laughed when he exited the shop, twirling around with his bags. Just so happy.

Xander took the bags from Steve and put them in the trunk of the car to keep the bags from going flying.

Eddie pulled him in for a kiss.

“God, you are so gorgeous when you’re happy,” he murmured into Steve’s neck.

Steve hummed. “Well, it’s a good thing that the thing that makes me happiest is you, huh?”

Eddie looked up at him with a tender smile. “Back attcha, big boy.”

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

“Will I get to see you before the Grammy’s on Sunday?” he asked, softly.

Eddie sighed. “Unfortunately not. I have so many interviews and shit that I just won’t have time.”

“That’s okay. I still have other work I’ve got scheduled this week.”

Eddie kissed him deeply. “You have fun, babe and I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Bye.”

Eddie watched as the car pulled away from the curb. He had gotten to meet both Robin and Xander, the two people tasked with keeping Steve safe and he found that he loved them both.

And that fact settled one of the worries in his chest about Steve, knowing that his boy was being looked after properly when he wasn’t around.

****

“Troy’s coming,” Robin said, “I’m not asking, I’m telling you.”

Steve glared at her. “He’s creepy.”

“He’s really not,” she defended. “He’s very protective of the omegas in his care and I need a second pair of eyes on you tonight.”

“I don’t see why,” Steve said rolling his eyes. “I’ve done hundreds of events with only one handler in the past. What makes tonight so special?”

“The press.”

Steve huffed. “I literally when to an event for the press with Nancy, how is this any different?”

“Because these aren’t the civilized press, Steve,” Robin said menacingly. “These are the vultures. The bottom of the barrel. Sleazy, gasping, horrible people who will judge you, seek to tear you down, and humiliate you.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Eddie has his own security, but they’ve been coordinating with Troy and me all week. What’s your signal for needing to get out quick?”

“Moving my clutch from my left hand to my right,” he said.

She nodded. That was a good signal. Steve liked his right hand free to shake hands with people.

“What’s your signal if you need to get away from the alpha?” she asked next.

“I take out my earrings,” he dutifully replied.

Again, not something Steve would normally do, so she nodded.

“The code word to get both of you away from someone who is harassing one or both of you is ‘caveat’.”

“As in ‘one of the caveats for dating an escort is to be understanding when something work related comes up’?”

Robin grinned. “Perfect. All right, we’re good to go.”

Steve grabbed his black clutch and matching shawl. It was February in California, but it was still February.

He draped the shawl over his shoulders and walked out to the car.

Troy and Robin got into a white SUV with Troy at the wheel.

Steve slid into his car to find a waiting Eddie.

“Well this is a surprise,” he cooed, sliding up to press himself against his boyfriend’s side.

Eddie chuckled, lifting his arm to wrap around his shoulders. “Benefits of properly courting you, darlin’. Management is letting me know where you live. Ish.”

“Ish?” Steve asked, scenting along Eddie’s jaw.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “The windows were tinted so I don’t know exactly where we are, but I know enough.”

“Ah.”

Yeah, that made sense.

“You look so pretty, baby,” Eddie said, changing the topic. “You look good enough to eat.”

Steve chuckled. “So do you.”

And he did. He was wearing a black suit coat with black rhinestones embroidered into the lapels, with a white button up shirt that decidedly not, tucked into a pair of black slacks. On his neck were several necklaces and chains and his wrists were covered in bangles and more chains.

He had a single earring in his left ear which was an upside down cross.

Steve was enraptured.

“This is all for you, baby doll,” Eddie murmured into Steve’s ear. “I rarely dress up for these things, but I wanted to look good for you.” His hand reached around to cup Steve’s ass. “Especially with you looking like sex on legs in that short dress.”

Steve chuckled. “You keep this up and we’re going end up torturing poor Xander’s ears by having sex back here.”

Eddie’s eyes blew wide. “Shit Stevie, if we didn’t have to be there at a specific time, I would absolutely hold you to that.” And he pulled Steve even closer to him so that the omega could feel the reaction to his words.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from scenting Eddie again.

“Did I tell you that thing the attracted me to you second to you being the sweetest thing,” he murmured, “was your scent?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Right back ya. Together we smell of Christmas.”

Steve giggled. “A little bit, yeah.”

Xander caught Steve’s eye in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrow causing the omega to blush, ducking his head shyly.

Xander knew something that Robin didn’t as she couldn’t be in the car with him for things like this.

Despite a Starcourt escorts’ reputation for being sex pots, sex wasn’t allowed in the back of the car. Mainly because of the driver, but also because what they did was meant to be higher than just make outs in the back of a car.

It wasn’t a rule, like not giving out their personal number was a rule, but it was a guideline that Steve had adhered to almost religiously. So for him to even suggest jumping Eddie was completely out of character for him.

Eddie raised Steve’s head gently with his forefinger. “You look so pretty when you blush, baby, but there is nothing going on here that you need to be ashamed of, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Just then the car rolled to a stop, signaling that they had arrived at the red carpet.

Behind them Troy and Robin stepped out with Eddie’s two security members. All of them dressed in black suits and ties with pristine white button up shirts.

All of them pulled out their sunglasses and slid them on. Troy walked up to the door and opened it.

Eddie slid out first, waving to the crowd. Then he turned around and helped Steve get out of the car. Steve waved, too, then slipped his hand around Eddie’s arm.

“The first interview is with Vanity Fair, Kayla Brosnahan,” Troy murmured to them. “She’s very fashion orientated so she’ll ask about your clothes first.”

Steve nodded. He glanced at Eddie, who nodded.

They walked up to the beautiful alpha reporter in a long, slinky, red dress.

“Kayla, Vanity Fair,” she said to the cameraman, “here with Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin who is up for three awards tonight, and Starcourt escort, Steve Harrington.”

She turned to them. “Wow! You two look absolutely stunning together. Who designed your clothes tonight?”

Steve smiled. “Omega designer, Lola Martinez and the jewelry is by St Giovanni.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “Those are some pretty big names. And how about you, Eddie? Who are you wearing tonight?”

“Jimmy Pantera.”

Jimmy was a known alternative style fashion designer. Chains, leather, denim, studs; basically the metal and grunge scene. What Eddie as wearing would have been very conservative for his collection.

“Very nice,” Kayla said. “I can see it now. Wow.” She turned to Steve. “Have you had any clients cancel on you because you’re being courted?”

Eddie bristled and was about to lay into her when Steve touched his elbow.

Steve batted his eyelashes with a simpering pout. “Oh, Kayla, you know all client information is confidential.” Kayla opened her mouth to say something snide, but Steve beat her to it. “Plus, I don’t kiss and tell. Not like a certain omega who’s been warming your bed.”

Suddenly she was sputtering and back tracking. “Eddie, you’re up for three awards tonight, what are your hopes for tonight?”

“Corroded Coffin and I are very happy to have been nominated for Best Metal Album, Album of the Year, and Single of the Year for ‘Hell’s Lookin’ Better Than Heaven’, but we were disappointed we weren’t nominated for more. Best Metal Performance is a prime example. Even though we made more money then any other touring band last year, we weren’t even considered.”

Again Kayla was forced to back track and try to start over but they had chosen that moment to move on. Kayla turned to her camera and made a slicing motion across her throat to tell him to stop taping.

All the interviews kept in the same vein. They would be chatty, ask about what they were wearing or who they were most excited to see perform and then drop shit like:

“Are you going to make Steve stop escorting once finish your courtship?”

To which Eddie replied, “I’m not so fragile that I need constant validation that my dick is big enough. Stevie is his own person and if he wants to keep working, why would I stop him?”

Followed by back pedaling and Steve and Eddie moving on.

Next asshole:

“Steve, are you angling for a bond to get out of being an escort?”

Steve and Eddie just blinked at him like he was too stupid for words. They just walked off.

Once Troy just moved them past an interviewer calling their name.

Steve looked down and a little behind him. “What was wrong with that one?”

“He’s been sexually harassing omegas that come through,” Troy muttered back. “Making lewd comments, making passes at them, touching them without their consent.”

Steve nodded and Eddie put a protective hand on his lower back. They made it through the gauntlet and into the Radio Music Hall.

They sat down at the table that already had the rest of the band and their plus ones and settled into enjoy the show.

****

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten

@vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow

@yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian

@rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf @melodymeddler

@mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium @maya-custodios-dionach

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #omega steve harrington

[unhappycylinder]

Gonna Be Trouble (Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader) Part 1

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3049

Warnings: none really, just some anxiety about school ig (reader is in college), flirty hangman, awkward reader, fluff and flirting to a concerningly self-indulgent point

Summary: Y/n goes back to her hometown airshow to escape the stress of school for a weekend and reconnect with her childhood passion. Hangman just happens to be a demo pilot at this same air show and falls for y/n instantly. Part 1 of idk how many but this will be ongoing and will move beyond the airshow pretty quickly. Strangers to lovers arc. Hangman is a sucker for a smart woman what can I say...

Part 2 Part 3

The sun was just setting under the desert horizon and you still had an hour and a half before you were back in Las Vegas. You had moved away to go to college three years ago and were looking for literally any excuse to escape the hell-hole that was university and reconnect with yourself. Years of books, essays, exams, and frat parties had taken their toll on you and your health (and your liver but we don’t have to unpack that yet because you literally turned 21 a month ago). 

Anyway…even though planes weren’t your main thing anymore, you still loved them. Everyone has a soft spot for their childhood obsession. Most kids loved dinosaurs or the Titanic or horses, but not you, no…the American military’s aviation department really tickled your fancy when you were in elementary school. You even wanted to be a pilot for a while, contemplated joining the Navy and everything, but your family’s academic goals put a stop to that pretty quickly.

There was a quaint hotel within a few miles of base that you opted for instead, deciding to take the shuttle to and from the air show each day.

As your music played quietly over the car radio you finally got some time alone with your thoughts. Time to unpack all the crazy shit that had happened to you since college started, and time to think about what was next for you after you graduated next year. You decided that you were going to focus on yourself this weekend and nobody else. You’d silence your phone, try not to take pictures and post much on Instagram, and for the love of God you’d leave your barren dating apps alone cause lord knows nothing was gonna happen there. 

“Love Me Tonight” came on the radio and you turned up the volume, swaying to one of your favorite songs as you passed the final mountain and saw Las Vegas in the distance, sighing in relief that your 15 hour day had finally come to an end.

–The Next Morning–

You only heard two gunshots outside your hotel last night, which to be fair was pretty chill for a night in Vegas, and the sunrise indicated that it was time for you to start getting ready for your day on base. You wanted to beat the crowd so you could have time to check out all the static displays before trying to find a seat in front of the runway.

Throwing on an outfit of leggings and a tight black long-sleeve with a denim bomber jacket on top, you finished getting ready before leaving your hotel room.

Hopping on the shuttle, you realized the only open seat was next to a man in his 70s wearing a Vietnam War Veteran ball cap who was blankly staring out the window with a slight frown on his face.

“Excuse me sir,” you said, “can I sit here?”

He perked up almost instantly and shuffled lightly towards the window, patting the seat gently and smiling up at you.

“Of course honey, it’d be a pleasure”

“Are you here with your family, or is it just you today?” You asked, leaning in to make sure he heard you

“Just me I’m afraid. My grandkids all live out of state and well my wife passed not too long ago. It’s just me now, and I haven’t missed one of these shows in years” he nodded

You smiled at him and nodded, “Me too. I used to come every year as a kid and this is my first time back since starting college”

“Oh how wonderful! What do you study?”

You and the old man chatted for what felt like half an hour but was really only the 10 minute ride to base. His name was Hank and he served two tours of Vietnam when he was 19. He met his wife, Marlee, a couple months after the war at an air show in California where he was promoting a veterans organization and they were married for forty-five years. He asked you about college, family, your interest in planes, and complimented you any chance he got. When the bus parked he struggled to get up, pulling out a cane from in between the seats and trying his best to wiggle his way out of the bus until you grabbed ahold of his other arm and helped him off the vehicle and through the air show gates.

“You know y/n you remind me an awful lot of my wife when I first met her. She looked just like you…” he paused, studying your face, “did her hair the same way, talked the same way you do”

“Aw thank you Hank that’s really kind,” you brought your hand to your chest and smiled at him, he beamed back.

“You know I hope you get to experience a life like me and my Marlee did, I just know it’ll happen for you”

You thanked him again and smiled, it was a sweet thing for him to say and you didn’t have the heart to tell him your only romantic endeavors thus far had been one-night-stands off of bumble. He smiled once again and shook your hand, hobbling off with his cane towards a C-5 parked right in front of the gate.

“And y/n,” he said while walking away, “enjoy the air show”

–

A-10s, F-15s, F-16s, F-35s, a B-1, and so many more aircraft that defined your childhood lined the runway along with the frequent hot dog and pretzel vendors. You wandered past each plane, circling them to check out their engines and empennages, taking special note of all the specs and features you used to obsess over as a kid. 

“Any questions over here ma’am?” a tall brunette in camo and aviators asked you from beneath the wing of the A-10.

“Oh god, I don’t think so. This was my favorite plane as a kid and I’m just kinda reminiscing about it now,” you responded, squinting from the sun which was over the plane right now

“She’s my favorite too, I mean I’d hope she was cause I fly her, but y’a know”

“What’s it like to fly ‘em?”

“Magnificent ma’am, truly indescribable,” he said while walking closer to you

“I’ll ask you a question about them then if they were your favorite as a kid, how’s that sound ma’am?” He asked, you laughed

“Jeez okay go ahead, hit me with it”

“Alright, how many pounds-” he was cut off by a little kid running up and playing with the ‘remove before flight’ tags on the aircraft

“Excuse me miss” he said in a hurry as he ran to the child and politely but sternly asked him to stop fiddling with the aircraft. You chuckled and shook your head as you walked quickly behind the plane.

It was then that your eye was caught by the most magnificent thing you had ever seen in your entire life. You must have skipped over this part in the brochure online, because nothing would have enticed you more than the U.S. Navy’s very own F/A-18 Super Hornet. If the A-10 was your favorite plane as a kid, the F/A-18 might as well have been the reason you considered a career in the military or pursued anything aviation related at all. This plane was your absolute dream, and you had zero clue one was going to be here.

Completely forgetting your trivia game with the A-10 pilot, you practically ran over to the jet, shedding your jacket in the process. It was still early in the day and this bird was the last display on the lot, so nobody else was in sight. You dropped your jacket to the ground as you approached the jet, scanning every single inch of it, especially the name painted on the side below the cockpit:

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin 

Your eyes were wide as you walked the length of the wing, hovering your hand over the grey metal, being afraid to touch it and damage it. As you got behind the wing however you noticed the beautiful dark blue Navy logo and simply couldn’t resist reaching out to trace your fingers along the gold ribboning which encircled the logo. Just as you made contact with the jet a voice erupted from behind you, making you jump.

“Scuse me ma’am,” it was said in the most delectable Southern drawl you’d ever heard

“Jesus Christ!” You yelled, turning around and immediately shrinking into yourself.

Standing before you was God’s very own favorite creation…literally the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was in a dark green flight suit and aviators with his dark blonde hair slicked back from a side part. He twirled a toothpick in his mouth, which was twitched into a seductive smile as he peered down at you.

“Sorry,” you struggled to get out, turning red in the face, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking,” you turned back towards the wing and started walking to pick up your jacket from the nasty ground. A strong hand grabbed a hold of your upper arm before you could take more than a step.

“Darlin’ it's okay, sorry I startled you, didn’t realize you didn’t see me coming up behind you”

He pulled you back in front of him and kept his hand gently on your shoulder, you almost combusted from his touch.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, or to touch the jet, I seriously don’t know what got into me. I mean I just watched a kid get yelled at for doing basically the same thing and now here I am, a grown woman, doing the same exact thing, feeling up the aircraft.” You rambled and he just smiled, letting out a little chuckle here and there, “I don’t mean feeling it up, not like that. Sorry. I mean touching it. I shouldn’t touch government property, that’s a lawsuit waiting to happen…”

“I’m gonna cut you off now darlin’,” he interjected while rubbing your shoulder, “no need to apologize for feeling up my jet, I get it, I feel her up all the time” he winced at his comment.

“...your jet. You’re the pilot?”

“I’d hope so, last I checked that was my name up there on her cockpit”

You both glanced up to the name then down to his name patch on his suit…they did indeed match.

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin ma’am, callsign Hangman,” he removed his hand from your shoulder and held it out for you to shake it

“Y/n Y/l/n” you responded, placing your smaller hand in his and giving it a firm shake. He glanced down at your hands as you shook them.

“You got a strong handshake there miss y/l/n, you sure you’re not in the military?”

You chuckled, “no sir, thought about it, but no. I guess I just have big hands?”

You held your hands up in front of you and wiggled your fingers, making Jake laugh. 

“C’mere,” Jake said as he stepped towards the jet where you had been looking earlier, motioning for you to follow.

“She’s an F/A-18E Super Hornet, but we like to call them-”

“The Rhino,” you cut him off, looking up at him with wide eyes

“So you’re a plane nerd, huh?” Jake asked, leaning against the fuselage of his jet

“Sorry. I used to be. These were my dream plane, I always wanted to fly them”

“You can touch it,” Jake smiled at you, you were still standing a good 2 feet from the jet, afraid to get any closer.

“No really it's okay, I don’t need to-”

“Come here,” Jake grabbed your right hand and pulled you towards him as he rested against the plane. You two stood there face to face for a second, inches from each other, hands interlocked, before Jake stood behind you and lifted your hands to touch the Navy logo together. His large calloused hand rested on top of yours as he guided your hands in a circle around the logo, his chest bumping into your back when you had to reach a little farther to touch the top of it.

“It’s a beautiful jet lieutenant” you said as you touched the plane, you felt his breath hitch when you said that last word. You looked over your shoulder to face him, his face inches from yours, his eyes more visible now through his sunglasses.

“You sticking around for the whole day?” He asked, removing his hand from yours and resting it against the jet so you were between him and the jet, enclosed by his arm.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here both days all day” you said, looking up at him, blushing beyond belief. How you were functioning right now was beyond you.

“Good. I’m gonna be taking her up in a few hours and I’d love for you to watch me. Maybe after I land we could go out for a drink,” he smirked, twirling the toothpick with his tongue to the other side of his mouth. God this man was doing unspeakable things to you.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You said with absolute disbelief, chuckling as if it was a joke. No part of you could believe that an actual in-person man was asking you out for the first time, and it was even more unfathomable that that man was the sexiest fighter pilot in the entire U.S. Navy.

“I suppose I am miss y/l/n, if you’d have me,” he said, his confidence wavering the slightest bit after your response.

“I can’t believe it. There’s no way! Look at you!” You gestured up and down to him

“Look at me? Darlin’ you must not have a mirror cause all I’m seeing in front of me is pure beauty. You’re gorgeous sweetheart, and damn smart too” Jake brought his hand off the plane to fix a stray hair that had stuck to your lip gloss, tucking it behind your ear.

“I-” you began but you couldn’t seem to form the words, “Yeah, yes. You’re perfect. Drinks after you fly, I’ll be there.” That was apparently the most coherent thing you could come up with.

Jake smiled a million dollar smile and took his sunglasses off his face, resting them on the zipper of his suit. His eyes were a gorgeous light green and they creased at the sides when he smiled, making you absolutely melt. He bent down until his mouth was right next to your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your neck.

“I’m looking forward to it Y/n,” he practically growled, “meet me back here after the demo,” he planted a soft kiss on your cheekbone as he pulled his head back, winking at you once you finally got the courage to make eye contact with him.

All you could do was smile and nod as Jake walked away and returned with your jacket,

“Don’t want you forgetting this darlin’, gotta stay warm, don’t want you catching a cold before our date,” he beamed.

You smiled up at him as you took your jacket, intentionally running your hand down his as you took the fabric, making his eyes widen and stare deeper into yours.

“You’re gonna be trouble for me, I can already tell,” he smirked and spun on his heels, walking over to a family approaching the nose of the aircraft. You stood behind the wing clasping your jacket in front of you, too shocked to move or think.

“What the actual fuck,” you whispered as you shook your head and started walking towards the stratotanker to the left of the jet. You fixed your hair as you walked, fiddling with the strands to alleviate your anxiety about whatever just occurred. Jake focused on the way your ass moved under those leggings as you walked away from his jet, completely ignoring the kid in front of him asking him a gazillion questions about his plane. He was right, you were definitely going to be trouble for him.

----

This is just part 1!! Let me know what y’all think. This is my first time posting a fic to tumblr so pls drop suggestions below!! Part 2 coming soon

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #top gun #navy

[autumntouched]

Okay I couldn't stop thinking about this, but as someone who's spent all 14 years of my education pre-uni in a very regimented/tough school, it can be hard to let go of certain habits or just going with the flow. And it got me thinking about how Phoenix might suffer with the same thing. Being a pilot in the Navy means she's always operating at a certain standard, and even during leave, it's hard to fully relax. It's not that she doesn't want to, but getting used to living a certain way and then breaking out of that routine can be hard! She's glad to have her hair down (literally and metaphorically lol), though, and will try to make the best out of it.

Sorry to post this so late! Here we go with Day 2 of Ode to Phoenix:

For you @coraphoenix

My thoughts on Phoenix are at the end!! Hope this is what you were looking for. xx

Time to Let Go

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Summary: Natasha struggles to go with the flow during her cousin's bachelorette weekend.

Natasha has always lived by lists. They keep details organized, goals on track, life in order, and pilots alive. She has fun lists of the things she wants to try, the places she wants to visit. She has banal lists of the chores and errands she needs to do. She has lists she doesn’t like to think about like the one her mom will receive if she were to die in the line of duty. Then there are the checklists she goes through each time she flies. Lists limit the unpredictable, the unexpected, the unforced error. 

And with lists come schedules. Schedules make sure the lists get done, everything completed and delivered on time. 

But lists and schedules are not exactly what her cousin, Dani, is thinking about a bottomless brunch of mimosas and bellinis in during her bachelorette weekend. Natasha has tried several times to persuade her cousin to hurry up, but her efforts have only earned her pouts from Dani and dirty looks from the other bridesmaids. 

Waiting in the living room of their airbnb, Natasha checks her watch for the fifth time. They are not going to make it to their pole dancing class on time when nearly everyone is still getting ready. How long does it take to match a top and leggings? She struggles not to pace out her impatience and opens her phone to triple check the time on the confirmation. Yep, she has it right. They’re going to be late. 

“You may as well stop worrying and just accept we’re not going to be on time for anything,” Gabby sighs. “I’m sure these places are used to it.” Her sister lounges with her legs over the arm of a chair, scrolling through the pictures she took at brunch. Natasha’s still getting used to Gabby being blonde, but the color looks good on her. Without the blonde, they would look like twins right now. Her younger sister took one look at Natasha’s black sports bra and dri-fit shorts for the afternoon and let out a long-suffering groan. “This isn’t the Navy, Sash. You’re supposed to look hot for this.” 

Which is how she ended up in makeup and a matching cornflower blue leggings and tank set. The top dramatically lifts her and plumps her modest breasts into almost a whole other cup size. Natasha has never shown so much chest in clothes meant for working out, and she can only imagine the looks she’d get if she strolled into a military gym wearing this outfit. And she really doesn’t want to imagine what some of her friends would have to say about it in the Dagger Squad group chat if they saw. 

Gabby also took offense to her low ponytail so now she’s wearing her hair down with the front braided back. The braids are the only concession to Natasha not wanting her hair in her face. Otherwise she’d be looking more ready for a runway than a dance class. 

She checks her watch again, and Gabby throws down her phone. “That’s it! Take it off!” 

“Take what off?” 

Gabby flings herself out the chair and marches over. Her glare is even more formidable than their mother’s, and Natasha shrinks like she’s about to get in trouble. “Your watch,” Gabby demands, holding out her hand.

“But I need–.”

Her sister cuts her off. “What you need is to calm the fuck down and enjoy the weekend! We’re here to have fun, not worry about what’s next on the schedule or what time we’re getting there.” 

Natasha cradles her watch protectively. “Okay, fine. But I’m keeping my watch.” 

Gabby shakes her head. “Too late. Give it to me.” Her voice doesn’t leave much room for argument except that Natasha is older. 

“No.”

Her sister thrusts her face in front of Natasha’s, her perfectly plucked and filled brows drawn into a scowl. “Give me the watch, Natasha, and I’ll have everyone out the door in less than ten minutes.” 

She considers that. Gabby can be a force to be reckoned with when she’s on a mission, and the other women have warmed up to her far more than they have Natasha. When she mentioned it to Dani the night before, her cousin just laughed and told her that they thought she was intimidating. “I mean, what do you expect, Nasha? You’re a pilot,” she’d said, as if that explained everything. Although Dani didn’t mean it to, that stung. Natasha usually has no trouble getting along with people and being a pilot is just her job. 

“Fine. If we’re in an uber in the next ten minutes, you can have it.” She’ll still have her phone at least. Or will Gabby try to confiscate that too?

Gabby narrows her eyes, determining whether she can push Natasha harder to turn it over before. Natasha glares back, and her sister straightens. “Deal.” She turns on her heel and practically skips from the room. 

They’re in cars in less than ten minutes, and she has to surrender her watch. “When do I get it back?” she hesitates. 

“Don’t forget to ask me for it before we leave for the airport. I’ll send it to you if I forget.” 

Natasha sighs and lets it drop into her sister’s hand. Gabby carefully stores it in the monogrammed bag Dani gave each of them for the weekend. “I promise, letting your hair down a little might hurt, but it’s not going to kill you.” 

They’re half an hour late to the class, but the instructor, Clare, seems unfazed. She puts on a pop playlist and doesn’t bat an eye when they stop to take a series of group pictures in front of the wall with the studio’s name in neon lights surrounded by ivy and flowers. Natasha’s grateful that Gabby made her switch outfits so that she blends in with everyone else, and especially when Dani squeals excitedly about how much she loves the pictures. 

Clare starts the class by showing them the full choreography and then walks them through a few of the moves. She lets the women stop to take individual photos of themselves posing on the poles before they get too sweaty. 

Natasha spends the time putting together what they’ve learned so far. Everyone else is sticking to the easier, modified versions, but she tries out doing the actual moves. She comes out of a spin to find Clare watching her thoughtfully. 

“You said this is your first time right? Are you a dancer? You’re getting the hang of this pretty fast.” 

“Not since high school,” Natasha smiles. “Also, sorry, we were so late.”

Clare laughs and waves her hand. “Happens all the time. Most people get tired after forty five minutes to an hour anyway. It’s harder than it looks, although you could probably get to a couple of intermediate moves. Your arm and core strength are really good. I leave some time at the end for everyone to record themselves doing the choreography. I can show you something then if you want.” 

“That’d be fun,” she agrees. The instructor gives her a thumbs up and goes to correct someone else’s grip. She looks at her wrist before remembering her watch is gone. 

“I saw that, Sash!” Gabby calls mid spin. Natasha gives her the finger and hops back on her pole. 

As promised, Clare comes over after they’ve finished learning the choreography. “Can you do a handstand?” she checks. 

Without hesitation, Natasha flips herself onto her hands, legs straight in the air. “Like this?” Back when Gabby did cheerleading, the two of them had handstand competitions to see who could stay up the longest. When she started Naval aviation training, she’d do them before going up to help with her spatial reorientation. She was one of the few pilots who didn’t get sick during their first training flights. 

Clare claps and grabs the pole as Natasha springs back onto her feet. “Exactly like that. Want to try an invert?” 

It takes Natasha a little longer and some help to manage the inverted crucifix Clare shows her but as soon as she does, Gabby demands to try it. “Wait, me too!” insists Dani who did cheer squad with Gabby. After all the alcohol Dani had at brunch, Natasha is mildly impressed she doesn’t get sick flipping herself upside down. 

“Okay, okay! Do it together,” Kelsey, Dani’s best friend and maid of honor, insists. “I want to record it.” The cousins line up at their poles and wait for Kelsey to find the best angle. “Okay. Got it. On the count of three. Go on three!” 

Dani throws out her arms. “No, hold on. Let’s do a practice run.” She’s right. It takes a few tries for her, Natasha, and Gabby to synchronize their timing. By the time they do, all of Dani’s bridesmaids have gathered around to cheer them on and take their own pictures. 

“All right, ready!” Gabby calls. 

Kelsey counts them down, and Natasha grips the pole, pulling then pushing her legs up and over her head. They hold the upside down position then dismount one after the other. Feeling surprisingly accomplished, Natasha adjusts her top when her feet are back on the ground. 

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” Kelsey yelps, playing back the video for everyone to see. 

Clare congratulates them on their class. “We did run a little over ladies, so quickly as you can, please make sure you have everything and make your way out to the lobby so we can set up for our next class. Thank you so much for coming today, and I hope you had as much fun as I did! Congratulations again to our beautiful bride, Dani, and give all of yourselves a round of applause and high fives.”

Kelsey and Libby rush up to Natasha to high five her. “Oh my gosh, I got the cutest picture of you!” Libby gushes. “Here let me send it!” 

“And let me send you all the ones I took!” Kelsey adds. 

Gabby gives her a significant look as she wraps her hair on top of her head, and Natasha falls back to walk with her. “See how much fun you can have when you’re not worrying about whether we're on schedule?” 

“Yes okay. You were right. I survived. May I have my watch back?” Natasha sighs on their way down the stairs to the street. 

Her sister looks over her shoulder with a dangerously sly look. “If you send a picture of yourself in this outfit to Hangman, you can have your watch back.” 

Natasha nearly misses a step and flails for the railing. “What!” 

“You heard me,” Gabby sing songs. 

“No!”

“No picture, no watch.” 

Natasha resigns herself to relying on her phone. And maybe trying to enjoy letting her hair down a little.

A/N: This one was a little tough because while what you describe is me to a T, it's not quite how I've imagined Phoenix. I can totally see it though!

My thoughts on Phoenix:

Growing up, I definitely knew plenty of people who brought their military discipline home, but there were also a lot of people like my dad who didn't. It had less to do with how the military shaped you and more to do with the kind of person you were going in, especially in the Navy. Some of the most fun, child-at-heart adults I've ever met have been in the military, and Phoenix reminds me of them in the way that she lets loose singing along to "Great Balls of Fire" and the sense of humor with which she handles Hangman's trolling. She and Hangman are also the two most openly impressed and amused by Maverick stealing a plane and sticking it to Cyclone, so they have a healthy distance from the military's rigidity. She's serious and focused when she needs to be, but she can let that go when she's off duty.

I feel like the media often portrays people in the military as intense, serious, and regimented in their personal lives so one of the things that I love about Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick is that they have fun when they're off duty (and occasionally on the job too.)

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

#natasha trace fic #phoenix fic #phoenix headcanons #natasha trace headcanons #monica barbaro #ode to phoenix #natasha phoenix trace #28 days of phoenix #talk to me #i love your notes

[highflyingtales]

My INSANE ride with TOM TROTTER EP#8

This experience is practically indescribable...

Me and my dad were in Alpine Wyoming for one of his work events. It was a really fun few days, I got to hang out at a whole bunch of rich peoples houses in the middle of the mountains at a private airfield and it was just so peaceful. My friend Nick who just graduated Purdue got to go with since he was interning for Boldmeathod and was looking to join them for a few summer trips. It was really nice having someone I was able to hang out with. We met some really nice aviators and made the drive over to Jackson Hole with the "non adult" party bus, just an SUV, and had a good time over there talking with some of my dads customers. Over the course of this one of my dads customers has a pilot who flys him and that guy is Tom "Trots" Trotter, he was an ex commander of the IRL Top Gun. He offered to take me up flying real early in the morning, my dad said that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he would literally kill me if I did not do this.

The morning came and me and my dad took a mile walk over to his hanger where we met him and his Pilatus PC-9. We talked for a bit and he ran me through a short safety briefing and before I knew it I was loaded up in the rear seat and he was talking about how it had a live ejection seat in the event that we head to jettison from the aircraft. He loaded up and my nerves were shot, I was filled with adrenaline and panic. He started up the aircraft, an absolutely beautiful sounding PT-6 turboprop engine and we taxied out to the active runway. We lined up down the runway and he through the throttle forward. It was crazy how it just throws you in the back of your seat because of the thrust to weight ratio and the lightness of the aircraft. We made a very gentle rotation and stayed in ground effect all the way down the runway. I was expecting a nice departure and that we were going to ease into so aerobatic maneuvers. BUT NO. At the end of the runway be yanks the stick back and we go into a 90 degree vertical climb and roll over the wing off to the left to level off. When I tell you I almost shit my pants I literally almost shit my pants. It caught me so off guard. I am not a fan of roller coasters so that feeling inside of all your insides moving around because of the G forces was such a weird sensation.

After that absolutely terrifying departure we continued over the lake, gained some speed and started to do some aerobatic maneuvers. He tried to get me sick but I have a very high tolerance when it comes to aerobatics as I found out. The smile it put on my face was something that I will never forget. After a few maneuvers he ran me through doing a barrel roll and after that he took over and did some fighter maneuvers. We went over and did some canyon runs at some crazy speeds and rolls over hills and going inverted, we were doing ariel artwork, it was amazing. After about an hour of absolutely craziness we returned back to the airport for a navy overhead break. We came FLYING in at a very low altitude over the runway and at the end we pulled 6 G's into a left hand break where we then put down gear and flaps and setup for landing. After a smooth touchdown and a taxi back over to the hangar I was in absolute shock. I hopped out of the aircraft in disbelief. I had just flown with an ex commander of Top Gun in a PC-9, which are extremely rare aircraft and did not wear a G suit so I almost passed out a few times. I tell you that is the most bizarre feeling in the world when you are pulling G's and looking around and the world starts to go black, it just out of your control and you start to loose consciousness. It was an experience I will never forget and I really appreciate trots for taking me up for an incredible and never forgetting life experience.

[musicthrob]

Jil Sander Fall/Winter 2024 Women's and Men's Collection, by Lucie and Luke Meier

March 6, 2024

For fans of fashion runways, 80s dream pop, Mk.gee, Dijon, and Tyler, The Creator

For the past few days, a few artists have been reposting clips of this on their stories. Finally, I had the chance to watch it while waiting for my bus to arrive after class in the drizzling LA rain. With my blue hydroflask sandwiched in my arm, I watched attentively as I could with my umbrella and phone in my hands, wiping and smearing the raindrops that fell on my phone every few seconds, with my earphones snaked into my jacket so they would not fall in a puddle. Then, my bus arrived and I frantically reached for the bus card in my left front pocket of my jeans to tap the card reader. I comfily sat on a lime-green open seat, shifting my backpack to my side, and continued to watch it on the bus till I arrived at my place. I can’t lie…this is the coolest I have ever felt sitting on the bus…watching a runway show on my phone…who am I…

Focusing first on the music, I loved hearing the live versions of these Mk.gee songs! The dreamy melancholic atmosphere of songs like “How Many Miles” and “Dream Police” were beautifully accompanied by slow-edited shots of the models walking the runway. However, “Alesis”, one of the standouts on his newest album to me, was also really a standout for me in this setlist. At 6 minutes, the beat picks up and the shots of the models walking at their regular pace fit really well. I also just really love the live intro for “Alesis” as well. The musical outro for the show at around 13 minutes was also pretty much perfect to me. Accompanied by all the models returning to walk at the end, I think it very well encapsulated the triumphant moment and ended everything on a beautiful note (literally). 

Remembering how Tyler, The Creator scored his first fashion show a few years ago, this is very exciting to me and I just love to see how the music and fashion world continues to intersect. Shoutout to Co-Creative Directors (and life partners) Lucie and Luke Meier for producing this really cool show (#goals). Hiring Mk.gee to do the music was very tasteful and I wish I was sitting courtside…on this runway.

I am not well-versed in the fashion realm, but I was very intrigued by the long coats and lengthy pieces, the shaggy bags and bags with straps, the flat-bottom shoes, and the slicked hair and hair caps. Super cool. I would love to ask Lucie and Luke Meier about their choices and intentions with the navy circular fixtures and seafoam green wall and the lighting. The choices struck me because the few runways that I have seen have the spotlight on the models, while the audience is in a dark atmosphere. But I guess I was also just watching it through the lens of Mk.gee’s music and imagining the show with some chrome circular fixtures instead and dimmed lighting to fit the vibes of the songs.

...Later that evening, I had a meeting to attend and it was raining even harder. With the back of my jeans kinda soaked from the angle the rain was falling and my earphones snaked into my jacket so they would not fall into now big ponds, I waited at a different bus stop under my umbrella listening to Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police. The road glistened from the rain, the stoplights and the headlights of cars shined bright enough for me to see the rainfall and the lights reflected on the wet pavement. Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police was the perfect soundtrack for me waiting, longing, and yearning for the bus that did not end up coming and the perfect soundtrack for my eventual long uphill trek to my meeting in the rain.

Links:

Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police: https://mkgee.co/twostarandthedreampolice

Photos from this collection: https://www.jilsander.com/en-us/men%27s-and-women%27s%3Cbr%3Efall-winter/fw24mw.html

Meet the Meiers: https://www.ssense.com/en-us/editorial/fashion/meet-the-meiers

Men’s Fall-Winter 2022 Show | LOUIS VUITTON (scored by Tyler, The Creator): https://www.youtube.com/live/1lztJ_1rY6M?si=W792trGUAAdM-zOR

#jil sander #fw24 #fashion #runway #live music #mk gee #dijon #tyler the creator

[dayblalock20]

hermes pochette kelly 7

Hermès Birkin Bag Worth Listing Guide 2022 In their Fall/Winter 2010 collection, a warm and fuzzy take on the Kelly bag got here waltzing down the runway to a slew of gaping mouths. Dubbed the “Teddy Kelly”, this version is made entirely of suede and trimmed with lush shearling. Paired with the excellent knitwear of the house, these Kelly bags slid seamlessly into their repertoire, and have become a direct collectors items. For Spring/Summer 2013, Hermès produced a line of bags that took its inspiration from the maritime luggage tags of sea voyagers traversing the Atlantic Ocean. Hermes Kelly Pochette Lime Yellow Gold Hardware Clutch Cut Bag NEWJust purchased from Hermes store; bag bears new 2020 Y Stamp.Brand New in Box. Hermes Kelly Pochette Navy Blue Gold Hardware Clutch Cut Bag Y Stamp, 2020Just bought from Hermes retailer; bag bears new 2020 inside Y Stamp.Brand New in Box. Hermes Kelly 28cm Rouge de Coeur Grenat Lipstick Red Shoulder Bag Z Stamp, 2021Every woman needs a horny red Kelly! The interior is lined with Bubblegum 5p lambskin leather and has... The inside is lined with Rose Azalee chevre and... Hermès was properly aligned with Kelly’s classic fashion and blue blood lineage. This iconic design boasts an evolution that reads like a timeline of excellent residing. Though similar to the Birkin in many ways, the Kelly’s extra compact interior, subtle strains and single top deal with make it the ultimate ladylike bag. Due to their recognition, the excessive demand for his or her handbags, and the high prices they sell for， the number of pretend Hermès Kelly handbags available on the market is astonishing. It measures approximately 22 cm in length, 14 cm in peak, and seven cm in maximum width at the base. It is the only clutch with a flat wide base that enables it to face on it’s own, like a mini bag. It matches all the identical objects that fit in the Jige PM. The first top-handled bag ever produced by Hermès was the Haut à courroies, which made its debut in 1892. Funnily enough, Hermès luggage with authenticity cards are literally pretend. Hermès luggage are some of the most coveted on the planet. Signature Hermès luggage such as the Kelly and the Birkin can go for tens of 1000's of dollars however are undoubtedly worth the value because of first-class design and quality that lasts many years. wikipedia handbags My bag had been so good and I even have a authentic one to check it to. I even took the replica bag to my Hermes store and my SA didn’t even discover. Hi don’t talk a lot 😂😂😂 sometime I even have a sense he don’t care for your cash. This normally means that the Charitybuzz winning bid is positioned within the auctioneers books as a bid. In this scenario, other individuals in the actual world room are anticipated to bid against the auctioneer, not the Charitybuzz profitable bidder. If no one is bidding within the room, the auctioneer will typically keep bidding up the price till the Charitybuzz Live Bid winner wins the real world auction. … The Kelly bag requires the flap to be closed to avoid including pressure to the handle. A lock and key accompany each Hermès Kelly bag, and these ought to have the identical hardware end as the bag’s hardware, which is either gold-plated or palladium-plated. The keys and locks are both debossed with matching numerical codes. Sometimes you will see poorly engraved numbers, which is an indication of inauthenticity. It has every thing you could attainable need from a knockoff. It is much more difficult to score a Kelly Danse! So, if you're ever offered one in boutique, take it. Hermes delimits its inventory and reserves it for the uncommon, skilled and elite folks. … Slim, chic and classic; you’ll completely love the heft and the deal with of a Kelly Cut. Many manufacturers, including Chanel and Gucci, have made bags in related silhouettes and even referred to as them the Kelly Bag, but Hermès’ Kelly is the unique. It incorporates over 2,600 stitches and takes at least 20 hours to assemble, making it one of the luxurious bags ever made. Like the Birkin, its scarcity has spawned legions of imposters, but the skilled eye can at all times spot the distinction. All orders ship from our warehouse from Monday via Friday . Orders placed before 12PM PST/3PM EST will ship the identical day. Hermès luggage are offered at the brand’s official website and all around the world at numerous bodily retail stores, although getting a particular bag you bear in mind could also be tricky. You can discover extremely sought-after classic Hermès luggage at Farfetch and on-line consignment shops. If there any problems as a result of parcel being misplaced we would reship without delay at no additional charge to you. Your order can be delivered at your door inside 7-10 enterprise days. kelly pochette Did a lot of analysis about purchasing a pre-owned time piece and was concerned about high quality, authenticity and service. True Facet took all those worries out if the equation!! I purchased a Breitling watch from them and it is exquisite! Slight problem with a operate push button upon arrival so I contacted the True Facet concierge staff they usually went above and beyond to get the watch serviced and concern corrected. Each bag is handcrafted by a highly-trained artisan. The bags are available an array of colours and high-quality material choices, together with crocodile, alligator, ostrich, lizard, Togo, Epsom, Clemence and Swift leather-based. The most popular sizes of Hermès Kelly handbags are 25cm, 28cm, and 32cm.

#kelly pochette #hermes kelly pochette #mini kelly pochette #kelly pochette bag

[dilfbatman]

I love your Patrochilles headcanons! (can we have more pwease 🥺) So i was wondering how do you imagine Patroclus and Achilles’ fashion styles to be like in a Modern AU? lol i cant help but picture Patroclus as the soft sweater boy and Achilles as a jock :,)

AHHHHHHH BICTCHDHXH I LOVE THIS QUESTION AND I LOVE YOU AND YOU HAVE THE RIGHT IDEA!!!! YES!!!! and also thank you SO much that’s so kind of you to say :’) AND HEHE i have a patrochilles!lovechild one i’m getting to!! omfg send me any more modern!au’s you want me to do and i’ll gladly do them!

—

patroclus:

- i imagine patroclus wearing very soft sweaters (creams, pastels, dark forest greens/navies/jewel tones)!

- i think he also wears flowy peasant tops & tank tops & he also wears trousers (imagine dark academia but like. light academia)

- i always imagine him carrying a book bag and maybe those glasses w the gold rims w clear lenses!

- i also always for some reason imagine him wearing a jean jacket that is ADORNED with pins & patches!

- he also loves wearing cute band graphic tees (hozier & florence + the machine)

when i think of patroclus i think of someone who is like very ethereal & beautiful obviously who’s style reflects his classiness/comfort!

achilles:

- i imagine achilles wearing athliesure! he can wear anything and make it seem like it belongs on him

- hehe i always imagine him wearing super dorky/hilarious graphic tees!

- he has like rock & roll band tees i think!

- and OMFG king of croptops! him & pat have a few of those and look beaut as always

- and he also wears lots of hoodies/crewnecks in either dark colors (dark black, blue, green, red) or light pastel/super bright colors (pink, orange, yellow, turquoise)!

- i think he can be seen wearing sweatpants a lot and jeans and a simple white/black tee!

- maybe throw in a leather jacket too bc i’m a sucker for that hehe

- and i think he absolutely pulls off very flowy peasant tops too!

he can wear anything and it’ll look as if it was made for him! literally can throw on just a blanket and he’ll look straight off the runway

and ofc patroclus & achilles always steal each other’s clothes that’s already a given (pat lives in achilles hoodies & achilles loves wearing his flowy tops/tank tops that end up being crop tops on him!) & they both have snazzy wacky socks bc they’re cute & fun like that!

this is such a fun q omg i love knowing what people love to wear! :’) thanks for the super fun ask! lemme know what you think they’d wear!

#the song of achilles #WHAT A FUN ASK!!!! :D #modern!patrochilles #asks #regardless i will steal their wardrobe #omfg i love when people talk about what clothes they want it’s so fun to me

[ventrios]

rules: 21 questions & tag 21 mutuals you wanna get to know better! tagged by @sheherteruki​ 

nicknames: ven is p much all i go by? some haha funnymen call me venjamin/ venn diagram/ venathan

zodiac sign: im a virgo 😔

height: last time i checked was 5′4″ but on god ive been measured wildly wrong before so who knows at this point

hogwarts house: what was that i cant read

the last thing i googled: im always on icognito i have no ideaskjd

favorite musicians: declan mckenna, mother mother, ok go, ajr, passion pit, sufjan stevens, glass animals, mafumafu, eve, IDKHBTFM, jack stauber, frederic, queen, reol, will jay, CRUISR, rex orange county

i had to look thru all my songs i forget who i like to listen to :cryingcat:

song stuck in your head:  Digimon - "Butter-Fly" (Opening) | ENGLISH ver | AmaLee

following: 354

followers: 635

do you get asks: uhhh sometimes, ahsjds i got a lot of requests i need to get to but i wish ppl interacted with me more tbh

amount of sleep: like 6+ now lmao?? i used to get like 2-3 hours at most

lucky number: 5........? its weird tho bc my fave number isnt my lucky number

what you’re wearing: big navy blue t-shirt that says “dont stop creatin” that my digital art teacher gave to me a year ago n some grey sweats n socks

dream job: somewhere in animation production..... animating is my goal but if i could pitch my own show or do a reboot for an old one id go off the shits for real

dream trip: uhh idk i dont got anywhere specific to go? japan looks kinda neat

instrument: i have played almost every instrument ive seen but the only one i can even remotely play is the piano n bells (+ drums kinda)

languages: english + vietnamese ! i like to think im fluent in both but writing in viet is kinda HRRM i can count endlessly in german and say a few phrases but other than that nothing

favorite songs: mmmm.. i guess just some of the stuff i listen to a lot:

shama - niru kajitsu ft. flower,  tokyo ghetto - eve, only wonder - frederic, mother mother - burning pile, where the sky hangs - passion pit, ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny - lemon demon, fashion week runway h - death grips, fashion week runway e - death grips, lights out - mindless self indulgence, juice - lizzo, white knuckles - ok go, baby hotline - jack stauber, boogie - brockhampton, break up! -  ayumi miyazaki

random fact: ougfg um?? sometimes i get mega into things but it ends up being really short lived its kinda funny

EX: miranda basically taught me how to make a bot n i got really into it for like a week or 2 n built three simultaneously but i literally have not touched them since so.. Word

aesthetic: OH! uhh... i think digimon’s revenge of diaboromon sums up my aesthetic pretty well? other stuff is like exploring a big city n diving into empty alleys n hopping rooftops or hanging out in a shaded creek, man idk... OH FUCK SHARP TEETH N CLAWS R KILLER TOO HEHE

if we’re going by colors my aesthetic is either dulled/muted colors or super bright electric neon yeehaw !

☆

u dont gotta do this if u dont want @birdpaladin @tomebreakr @harveychan @exorciststuck @shoezuki @horrifichymns @shargoe @shrimpghoul & anyone else that wants to do it!

#chitters #about game #if i didnt tag its probably just bc i forgotksjd #i accidentally put a lot of songs for favorite songs cause i went thru my history n was like #oh god all of these r bops #all digimon songs are bops btw #break up! is one of them #n so is butterfly #OH #for nicknames i get called veni too #uhhh lore but friends used to call me sparky #long post #WAIT I FUCKED UP IT SAYS MUTUALS N I FORGOT YO CHECK WHO IM MUTUALS WITH I JUST TAGGED FRIENDS FUCK

[odilestory]

untitled jay x reader fic pt.1 (jason todd x reader)

This is so long oml. but i’ve had this idea for a whole minute so i thought i’d better put it down. anyway, enjoy!

---

Legs and arms crossed, you sat slumped in a cold metal chair outside your favorite coffee shop. You pushed down your sunglasses (Versace, another gift) and peered over the brims at the jumbotron in the middle of the square. A news headline.

Will Gotham’s symbol of hope and empowerment ever return? - 5 years pass since the last appearance of the beloved Nightingale - 

You push your glasses back up just in time to miss the photo shown. The last photo of you two - though, of course, no one would ever know it was you two - that was ever taken. 

Five years ago, a bystander snapped a picture of Nightingale and Robin leaning towards one another, about to have their first kiss. That photo had become iconic. There were so many theories about what happened to each of you: the young couple ran from Batman to get hitched, or you were undercover and you killed Robin and then yourself. The second one hurt.

Regardless of the picture shown, you clear your throat, take another sip of coffee and stand up to begin the walk back to your apartment where you’ll inevitably spend the rest of the day.

A few heads turn as you walk down the street. Some women are jealous of your bag (Balenciaga) or your new shoes (classic black Louboutins with the red sole). It was a hard choice today between the Louboutins and the Ralph & Russo Edens, but the black pumps were a better match with your Louis Vuitton Belted Trapeze coat and High Waisted Loos Pant. It was a no-brainer.

The only stop you made was to glance at the news again. A report about Batman and company. You walked away, rolling your eyes, as you knew that Gotham’s “heroes” weren't what they always seem. They would know if they’d been where you’d been.

---

The clean, white apartment often seemed too perfect. You didn’t deserve it, but Bruce insisted that he buy you a place to stay. After Jay’s death, living at or even visiting the manor was too much, and after your parents died (not even six months after Jason passed), you had nowhere to go. Bruce gave you a place to go because he didn’t know how else to say sorry. Sorry for killing your boyfriend. Sorry for killing your drive. For killing the one you loved.

Your cell phone rang. You felt no immediate emotion as you knew it was Dick calling to check in. He’s the only one that ever calls anyway.

- Hello?

- Hey baby-gale, how are you?

- How do you think?

- Have you been out yet today? Socialize at all?

- I got coffee. Like I do every morning. You don’t need to keep checking in. Unless there’s something you need to let me know about, you don’t need to call me every day. I can survive.

- I apologize for caring? Come on, (Y/N), we miss you. It hasn’t been the same. Hell, you don’t even know Tim or Damian yet. And when was the last time you actually went out? You’re 20 years old. At least go to a club or something. I know you can afford something right off the runway so why not wear it out? 

- I went two years ago, to the club down the street. But it was like... ugh. I watched people dance and I wanted it to be us. It was torture. Like I kept hearing his voice... I don’t want to do that to myself. 

- Try again. For me? How’bout you go out with me and Barbara. If it's too much, we’ll all leave, no problem. Your check should be at your place today. Go spend it on something to wear, we’ll meet you at Mother’s at 10.

You didn’t respond, not wanting to admit defeat. You sighed and hung up the phone, but you knew that Dick knew you would be there. 

In the meantime, you made lunch and checked your current account balance. You had $28,743.92 in your savings. It was more than enough to buy a nice look for tonight, but you wanted to wait.

Another thing Bruce did to “accommodate you” was he would send you a quarterly check of $50,000. Every three months you would receive a plain check, directly from the man himself, along with a note from him. Every note had been a plea to return. Apparently, your old suit was displayed right next to Jason’s, as if you were dead as well.

You heard the mail fall through the slot in your door and quickly sorted through the magazines, coupons, and bills to find the envelope that mattered. Sure enough, there it was. You tore it open, threw the note aside. You’d read it later. 

There it was: $50,000 from the man himself sitting in your freshly manicured fingers. You ran a nude, glossy, almond-shaped nail over the writing as you put the check down and exchanged it for the note. You unfolded the card.

(Y/N),

We’re here if you need us. Just call. For anything.

We grieve too.

B. Wayne

You folded it back up and slid it across your counter, once again grabbing the check and throwing it in a different Balenciaga bag, putting back on the Louboutins, and headed down to the bank.

---

“Well look at you!”

“Miss ‘hasn’t left the house in 5 years’ really cleans up! What is that, Valentino?”

Dick and Barbara stared at you in awe. You picked out the Michael Kors Sequined Mesh Bell-Bottom Gold Jumpsuit just because you knew it was Mother’s.

“It’s Michael Kors. Did you get us on the list?” 

Mother’s was the weirdest club you had perhaps ever stepped foot in, but it was Dick’s favorite. The club was basically straight out of the 70′s and 80′s. They only played music from those decades, and they even had a disco ball out at all times. It was cramped, but busy every night. They had great food and even better drinks, and even though you weren’t 21 you knew you could get Dick to buy a few for you.

“Of course. Come on, let's have some fun.” 

Barbara clutched Dick’s arm and you fiddled with you cobalt blue Balenciaga clutch as your heels clicked towards the bouncer.

“Name?” A large, burly man dressed nicely in a navy blue suit held a clipboard on one hand and in the other the clasp of the red rope, ready to let us through if we were eligible.

“Grayson. These two are with me.” He flashed his classic smile and motioned to you and Babs, receiving a welcoming smile in return.

“Enjoy your night.” He unhooked the rope and as you pushed through the door, you were met with colorful, flashing lights, people yelling and dancing, and very loud Duran Duran. Maybe this will be fun.

Swerving around other excited and tipsy club-goers, you all found a booth right off the dance floor and set your stuff down there. 

“We’re gonna go to the bar, want anything?” Barbara leaned close to you so you could hear over the loud music.

“Something poisonous! I’ll wait here.” You smiled and leaned on the table, flicking the sequins on your pants and shifting weight between your heels and the balls of your feet.

“We’ll be right back!” They walked away, again arm in arm. That could be you and him right now, if only he were still here.

(at the bar)

“There he is.” Dick got Barbara’s attention as he sighted the taller man sitting at the end of the bar politely declining inquiries for his number.

“Dick, are you sure this is gonna work? She doesn’t have a clue, what if it just scares her away? Pushes her further into that darkness?” She grabbed his arm, making him face her. For the first time since they came up with this plan, he was doubtful. “Dick, is he ready? You all just made up. He just healed things with Bruce. Are you sure he doesn’t need a break before he tries something like this?”

“They loved each other. They love each other. Still. Nothing is gonna change that. I have a feeling its now or never. Any longer and I think she might try and be with him the only way she thinks is possible. I don’t want her to go that far. I’m not gonna let her do what she says she wants to. I’m not gonna let her die when he’s alive. This is happening. Now or never.”

She nodded. Both were determined now. Dick waved his hand to grab his attention.

“Jason!” He looked up with relief and excused himself from the current flirt session he had been roped into. He hopped off the bar stool, leaving his drink and strode towards Dick rather hurriedly.

“Dick, I gotta be honest, I’m not sure about this, you sure she’s not gonna freak?”

“Oh, she’s gonna freak,” Barbara laughed, “But its now or never.” The couple said at the same time.

“We’re gonna bring her a drink, wait a minute or two, and we’ll get her to come dance. Ask her to dance. The music is so loud no one is gonna notice if you explain the whole coming back to life thing, so don’t worry. Explain if you have to.” Dick hurriedly motioned his plan with his hands as if it was an actual mission, and truthfully it was because he had Tim and some other “extras” scattered about in case anything went wrong, in fact, even the bouncer was in on it. Dick told him he was trying to get his two friends to make up and to not let you leave.

“Whatever you say birdbrain, but if this ruins everything, I will literally kill you.”

You had been pulled out onto the crowded, sweaty dancefloor, and were dancing with Dick while Babs was in the bathroom (she wasn’t actually in the bathroom; she was hyping up Jason, but you didn’t know that, of course).

The song stopped and you were in a happy laughing fit: you were having lots more fun than you thought you would. The next song started, it was a song that you, Dick, and Jason would all dance around to and mockingly sing along to. It was Lovemaker by Wham (not George Michael’s Wham!, the other one).

You started dancing with Dick again, making stupid faces and joking about when you were younger. He glanced behind you but quickly brought his eyes back to you again.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I thought I saw Babs.”

You were about to respond with a quick “ok” when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, doll.”

You froze and looked at Dick for a second, who, instead of recognizing your discomfort, smiled at you. So you turned around, ready to correct the mistake in word choice this stranger had made.

“Sorry, I -”

To your complete surprise, you were met with a strangely familiar face.

“Wanna dance?” Very out of character for Jay, he stuttered a bit, barely speaking loud enough for you to hear.

“Wh-Jay? N-no...No! What the fuck!? You died! What the hell? What the fuck

#Jason Todd #Jason tood #red hood #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #red robin #Tim drake #batgirl #barbara gordon #Damian wayne #Jason todd x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #nightingale #robin #Vigilante #x you #x reader

[wolflover33100aj]

Yes, I'm goth but that doesn't mean I don't have good fashion! I strut my stuff! Gotta live everyday as a runway!

I would literally go shopping at the mall and go into these stores that I wouldn't even wear those outfits like Rue 21, Urban Outfitters, Old Navy and other stores and and find an outfit and say " Oh my god! This would look so good on you! "

I wouldn't wear it because as a goth, I wear black ( not all the time, sometimes I can wear ridiculous stuff for comedic purposes ) but if I see something that would look good on someone, I'm just like " ooooooooo "

Sometimes even I want to wear these!

I see a dress that isn't black or gothic but looks fashionable af, I would wear it! I will work it!

I choose my black outfits wisely, I strut around the house like it's a fashion show! I bought myself sunglasses because yes, I'm that dramatic and they look fashionable!

I would NEVER paint my nails but I recommend people certain nail polish and be like " This would look so great on you! "

I went on a long rant to my family about different types of purses because they kept calling my mini purse a wallet! It's not a wallet! It's a mini purse!

I end up falling down because of my large platform boots but I look good in them!

" It's too hot to wear all that black! "

I look good in it! I'm willing to melt, at least I look I came out of a fashion show!

I've still kept my sweet 16 and sweet 18 crowns that my family got me from my birthdays! I still wear them because I feel like a queen when I'm wearing them! I also have some staffs! They make me feel good!

I like to chill on a random chair around the house with a crown and a staff and I feel like a queen!

My mom is just like " I've raised a strange cookie "

#My family just deals with my bullshit #It doesn't even surprises them anymore #When I get all hyped up at a family gathering my mom just says so calmly stop it

[dontshootmespence]

Through the Lens

Part 4

Back-to-back shows in one day was hectic to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. As you were readying your camera, Prentiss invited you backstage. Apparently, she’d seen a number of your spreads before and was wondering if you’d take pictures of life backstage at one of her shows. It was a spur of the moment thing, but it was also a rare opportunity; it was so insane between clothes and makeup and models and makeup artists that normally others weren’t allowed backstage, but Prentiss ran a smooth operation, where everyone and everything had its job, leaving room to move around.

“It’s a lot to take in isn’t it?” She asked, laughing as you spun around, your mouth hanging open as you realized she’d been talking to you this entire time. Between the craziness of everything and Prentiss’ up-close beauty, you hadn’t heard a thing, so you just nodded.

“It’s insane, but I love it.” With your camera ready to go, you started clicking away, watching as a sea of color – pastel pinks, deep reds, maroons, navy blues, and blacks – waved themselves in front of your eyes. Though you weren’t a journalist, you also asked a few questions of other models and makeup artists backstage, inching closer and closer to wear JJ was getting prepared with her first outfit, a black dress with a sheer top adorned with black flowers and a printed silk organza skirt inspired by Indian kalamkari.

Was it cheesy to say that JJ looked like a vision?

Because God did you want to go over and kiss her. She looked stunning, but your relationship was still a secret, so you made eye contact with her and took a picture of her. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that Prentiss had noticed. “Don’t worry. You’re secret is safe with me.”

“What secret?” you asked clumsily, trying to play it off. 

Prentiss, who’d insisted you call her Emily, just clicked her tongue. “I may be busy, but I notice things.”

Hopefully, she’d keep her promise. 

After taking a few more pictures, you thanked Emily again for allowing you backstage. “Seriously, thank you so much. Your work is absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you,” she replied sincerely. “With all the traveling I’ve done, I had to have my clothes reflect that.”

As she departed, you say that JJ was heading toward her makeup chair, so you decided to follow her. “I’ve been assigned to Elle Greenaway.” Elle was very well-known throughout the makeup industry for her cruelty free makeup line boasting 35+ shades of foundation, and her desire to continue serving as a makeup artist on occasion despite being a business owner. “She’s fantastic. She’s done my makeup before.”

“Hello, Ms. Greenaway,” you said, extending your hand as JJ sat down. “Jennifer has been telling me about you.”

Leaning down, she kissed both of JJ’s cheeks. “Stunning as always, JJ. Very neutral for this outfit. And please, call me Elle,” she said to you. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N, right? Up and coming photographer?” Was it okay to fangirl? You had a secret, hot girlfriend, a veteran designer had just invited you backstage and now a world-famous makeup artist and entrepreneur had heard of you. Life was pretty fucking sweet.

“I am her. I love your line. Foundation and lip gloss specifically.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, her own lip stain shining under the bright lights backstage. “Now, my beautiful canvas. Let’s get to work.”

Within 10 minutes, JJ had tasteful and neutral makeup on, and she was ready to go. As you looked around, you saw that it was just about time, so you said your goodbyes to Elle, wished JJ good luck, and headed outside.

In addition to the vast array of colors Prentiss used, she was also a fan of floral patterns paired with black; JJ had told you earlier that she was a perfect mixture of sugar and spice. You barely stayed still the entire show. By the time it was over, you were practically sweating, and more than ready for a good night’s sleep.

Unfortunately, JJ got caught by a former model and friend Haley Hotchner, wife of Spencer’s agent, Aaron, which was probably how the group of them had become such good friends. But JJ didn’t want to bail because she’d have to tell them why, and the two of you were really enjoying your privacy right now.

JJ: You sure you’re okay with that?

Y/N: Of course, babe. I’m exhausted anyway. I’m going back home to sleep.

JJ: Okay good. See you tomorrow <3

Normally, you weren’t the type to read into emojis, but that was the first time she’d used the heart emoji and you might’ve melted into the floor.

The next two days went by quickly, with JJ walking for Nina Tiari and Balenciaga. The tabloids were going crazy over her; she was able to wear anything and people were all over her because of it. You’d also attended Hermes, where Spencer was walking again. JJ had a seat, but at the last minute, Blake had asked you to cover Hermes, so you and Spencer walked in the same entrance. 

An unbelievable ocean of lights caught you off guard, but Spencer placed his hand on your shoulders and ushered you inside. “Is that what the life of a male model is like? Constant cameras and men and women fawning over you?” You laughed.

“The model life in general. I don’t really understand it. I just like nice clothes.” Spencer said, snorting as he thought about the absurdity of it all. “I love wearing them. I love learning about them. The rest of it is…whatever.”

JJ felt the same way. It’s probably why they got along so well. Before heading toward the side of the runway where she could get some good shots, she was introduced to Aaron Hotchner, his agent. “Nice to meet you.” He had a strong and firm handshake, but was very friendly, his smile carefree, but his manner of speech was all business. “Maybe one day you can do a spread for Spencer here? An up-and-coming photographer? Might be good for your portfolio,” he said to Spencer. 

“Are you always business?” Spencer teased. “That does sound great though. If you wouldn’t mind of course.” 

“Of course not, I’d love to,” you replied, pulling Blake’s card out of your wallet. You always had one on hand. “Why don’t you give Alex Blake a call and we can set it up? I’m sure she’d love to expand the company’s portfolio as well.”

After the show was over, you caught up with JJ and Spencer met up with Luke. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a statuesque, muscular man and an eccentrically dressed woman making their way toward JJ. “Derek! Penelope! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” She gave them both a hug and introduced everyone. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, when I was trying to get those tickets to Marchesa, I was actually able to pull a couple more than I intended, and I haven’t had some one-on-one time with my babygirl and right hand man in a long time, so we’re headed to Marchesa too.” The two seemed an odd pair from the outside, but they talked to each other like they were made for each other.

On the way to Marchesa, everyone’s wind down at the end of a long yet exciting week, you sat next to JJ in the limo. “Are they dating? The CEO and the CTO?”

“No,” JJ laughed. “They’re like flirty best friends.”

Whatever it was they were, they were adorable together. Marchesa was always a big show, so you were able to blend in with the group you were with – designer, Luke Alvez, model, Spencer Reid, his agent, Aaron Hotchner, JJ, yourself, and two of JJ’s bosses. Anyone and everyone was here, as the tabloids liked to say.

The group of you made your way through the abundance of paparazzi before making your way inside and enjoying the show. Marchesa had a way of beautifully combining menswear and their signature flirty, femininity. “That pantsuit,” you breathed to JJ. “I’m not even a wearer of fashion, obviously,” you chuckled, “But I could rock that. It’s gorgeous.”

“You absolutely would,” Penelope said. Moments later another model came strutting down the runway in a beautiful red dress, the material of which was gathered to look like flowers. “I would rock that.”

Derek laughed and pulled her closer. “I’ll buy it for you and you can wear it around the office.” 

“Why aren’t we dating again?” She laughed. “You know how to make a girl feel special.” 

As a photographer it was your job to sell the clothing whether or not you liked it, and most of the time, you liked most, and disliked a few, but there was literally nothing in this year’s Marchesa line-up that you didn’t love; it was absolutely stunning, delicately crafted, and innovative as hell.

“Alright,” JJ said as the show came to a close and everyone started to get up. “You two and us. Dinner. Two days from now?” That firmed up your unofficial double date with Spencer and Luke.

You said goodbye to all your new friends and left with JJ, getting picked up by her driver and heading to your apartment to pick up some clothes. It was time for relaxing. Because she lived in an apartment, she’d booked the weekend at a gorgeous and isolated hotel just outside the city and within a few hours, you’d arrived. “This is gorgeous,” you said, awestruck at the warm and inviting lobby.

“I’m going to check us in, okay?” Her hand grazed yours and there was no one else in the lobby, so she pressed a kiss to the side of your cheek. You could not wait to be alone. This week had been amazing, but you wanted time with your girlfriend again.

When you got to your room, you pinned JJ to the bed and ran your hands up underneath her shirt. “I’ve been dying for some alone time,” you laughed against her collarbone.

“I can see that,” she exclaimed, taking your lips in a sweet, but searing kiss. “How about we go to grab a later dinner and then we can come back here for dessert?” She winked, the barely-veiled insinuation sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes,” you hissed. “I like that idea.”

Between checking into the room and getting changed for dinner, it was an hour before you were in the restaurant and placing your order. Suddenly, JJ felt a buzzing in her pocket. “Derek? What’s wrong?”

He must’ve said something that rubbed her the wrong way, because she said nothing else, hung up and started staring at her phone.

“JJ?” You asked, wondering if she’d gotten some bad news. “What’s wrong?”

She swallowed hard, her brow furrowing as she turned the phone toward you. The headline read:

Does Stunning Model Jennifer Jareau Have a New Woman in Her Life?

Underneath the headline was a picture of them standing in the lobby. Someone had followed you here. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered. She looked distraught.

So your relationship was out? It wasn’t the end of the world, right?

@coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @marvelfanlife @amarislestrange @obsessed5sosfreak @sonhadoraativa @1enchantedfantasy1 @ace-and-rosey @blakendores @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @offbrandcursewords @entelechysymphony @milkandcookies528 @pugs-cats-bb-8 @davidr0ssi @sarahkay-19 @alexialoveseverlark @gigglyprentiss @myhogwartslibrary @stunudo @the-slytherin-ice-queen @ultrarebelheart @arizonalovesher

If you want to be tagged in future installments, like this post! 

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jennifer jareau fic #dontshootmespence #through the lens

[bigjohnsadventuresintravel]

Remembering Pearl Harbor

On Sunday morning, December 7, 1941, the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service launched a surprise, preemptive strike on the US. Pacific Fleet stationed at Pearl Harbor Hawaii. All around the island of Oahu, other US military bases and strategic locations of defense were simutaneously attacked by Japanese aircraft.  The attack began at 0748 hrs., when the first of 353 Imperial Japanese aircraft , (consisting of two waves of fighters, dive bombers, and torpedo planes), broke through the clouds and began wreaking havoc on their unsuspecting targets below.

A japanese bomber soars up and over battleship row after releasing its payload.

In the aftermath of the Sunday morning attack, all 8 US Navy battleship were damaged with 4 sunk. The Japanese also sank 3 destroyers, 3 cruisers, 1 minelayer, and an anti-aircaft training ship. 188 US aircraft had also been destroyed in the attack; 2,403 Americans were killed, and another 1,178 others were wounded. By attacking the US Pacific fleet at Pearl Harbor, the Japanese had hoped to prevent the United States from interfering with its planned military campaigns in Southeast Asia and elsewhere. One day after the devastating attack on Pearl Harbor, the United States declared war on the Empire of Japan.

Big John at Pearl Harbor Memorial, Hawaii

Blessed with the opportunity to spend a considerable amount of time on the island of Oahu, I made it my priority to explore the Pearl Harbor Memorial, as well as other areas directly affected by the December 7 attack. These are just a few of the photos I captured along the way. It was my intention that these photos cause readers to pause and reflect on this momentous event that led the United States into World War II.

Although some of the sites at the Pearl Harbor Memorial are paid attractions, the USS Arizona Memorial is entirely free. If you plan on visiting the site, I highly recommended that you get there as early in the morning as possible as the tickets to the USS Arizona are all on a first come – first serve basis. The later it is that you reach the park, the longer it is that you will most likely have to wait. While waiting your turn to see the USS Arizona, there are a number of museum-quality displays to explore, as well as the USS Bowfin submarine, and a gift shop and cafe.

Going out to the USS Arizona is a very solemn experience. First visitors will be ushered into a theater where they will watch a moving documentary of the Pearl Harbor attack on a large screen. After the film, visitors will board a boat where US Navy sailors will take them out to the wreckage. During the entire tour of the USS Arizona, all talking and texting is highly discouraged. Photographs are encouraged and permitted.

US Navy sailors ferry visitors to and from the USS Arizona

Battleship USS West Virginia sunk and burning at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. In background is the battleship USS Tennessee.

The USS West Virginia was hit with seven type 91torpedoes on her port side while bombers struck her with a pair of 16 in (410 mm) armor piercing shells. The ship was sunk but did not capsize. The crippling damage to the USS West Virginia caused it to sink upright to the harbor floor  During the attack, 106 sailors lost their lives. The USS West Virginia was eventually repaired and saw action during many World War II battles in the Pacific.

Survivors of Pearl Harbor described the scene as a literal hell on earth. Everywhere there were explosions, screams and fire. Sailors jumped from their ships into the harbor, covered in oil and fully engulfed in flames. All the while, Japanese planes continued their onslaught while brave sailors, Marines, and aviators tried to repel their attack.

The USS Arizona (BB-39) explodes violently as a Japanese bomb detonates inside a powder magazine.

For 1,177 officers and crew of the USS Arizona, there would be no future war stories to be told. For the men that died aboard the USS Arizona, the war ended even before it had begun.  Unlike many of the other ships that were sunk on December 7, 1941, the USS Arizona was well beyond repair. The wreckage of the ship, along with her valiant men, still lie at the bottom of Pearl Harbor.

The USS Arizona Memorial with USS Missouri in the background.

The USS Arizona Memorial is an actual gravesite as many sailors are still entombed inside the hull of the ship. The memorial was designed by Alfred Preis, an Austrian-born architect who was sent to a US internment camp after the Pearl Harbor attack.

Although the memorial is positioned directly over the wreckage of the USS Arizona, no part of its structure actually rests on the ship.

To this day, considerable amounts of oil from the ship still seep to the water’s surface.

The names of all lost who served aboard the USS Arizona and lost their lives on December 7, 1941.

An actual anchor belonging to the USS Arizona that was recovered in Pearl Harbor.

The USS Bowfin (SS-287), a Balao-class submarine, saw action in the Pacfic and is now moored at Pearl Harbor, HI.

The lone sailor now stands watch over Pearl Harbor and is a tribute to all those who served in the sea services.

A WWII era torpedo

Prior to the attack on Pearl Harbor, American Naval Command believed that Pearl Harbor was too shallow for a successful torpedo attack. In planning their operation, the Japanese modified their torpedoes to operate effectively in only about 40 feet of water. The Type 91 torpedo, which was deployed in the attack, was an aerial torpedo designed to be launched from an airplane. The torpedo’s wooden stabilizers were shed from the tail fins immediately upon water entry and the weapon power-glided towards its target just below the water’s surface.

Map showing the December 7, 1941 attack on the island of Oahu.

The Pearl Harbor Naval Base wasn’t the only thing on Oahu attacked on December 7, 1941. The Japanese also struck  Schofield Barracks, Wheeler Army Airfield, Hickam Airfield, Bellows Field, Naval Air Station Kaneohe Bay, and Ewa Mooring Mast Field. Along with the numerous military personnel killed and wounded, there were also 49 civilians who lost their lives that day.

A restored Japanese Zero at the Pearl Harbor Aviation Museum on Ford Island, Hawaii.

Many Japanese pilots carried these “good-luck” banners with them inside the cockpits of their planes.

Actual wreckage from a Japanese fighter plane.

On December 8, 1941, Sakamaki became the first Japanese prisoner-of-war as he stumbled out of his beached mini-submarine at Bellows Air Station, Hawaii.

Sakamaki was commanding a 79-foot submarine armed with twin 18-inch torpedoes. His mission to destroy the USS Pennsylvania was cut short when it got stuck on reefs at Belllows Air Station and them bombed by US piloys patrolling the area.

My son, Jonah, stands in the same spot the Japanese submarine washed to shore.

This map was found in the beached submarine showing the entrance to Pearl Harbor.

The big barracks at Hickam Field was set ablaze after being strafed and bombed by Japanese aircraft.

During the attack on the barracks, a bomb directly struck the mess hall during breakfast and killed 35 men. In total, the casualties on Hickam Field totaled 121 men killed, 274 wounded and 37 missing.

Today, the Hickam barracks serve as the Headquarters for the Pacific Air Force.

This flag, which once flew proudly over Hickam barracks, was rescued from destruction on the day of infamy. 

The Courtyard of Heroes inside the courtyard of the Pacific Air Force Headquarters Building (formerly Hickam barracks).

Those that view the bullet holes and shrapnel damage to these walls are reminded to always stay vigilant.

A wall of remembrance at the Pacific Air Force Headquarters Building

A Japanese dive bomber aims for the runway at Ford Island and Battleship Row.

Tora! Tora! Tora! (Photo courtesy of www.worldwar2database.com)

This view was captured from from the top of Ford Island’s control tower as Hangar 6 burned after being struck by multiple bombs. Men can be seen pushing planes away from the carnage while trying to fight back the flames. Imperial Japanese Navy Captain Mitsuo Fuchida broadcasted the words, “Tora! Tora! Tora!” (Tiger! Tiger! Tiger!) to signal a successful surprise attack. Captain Fuchida later recalled, “When Lieutenant Commander Takahashi and his dive-bombing group mistook my signal and thought we were making a non-surprise attack, his fifty-three planes lost no time in dashing forward.”

The tower on Ford Island as it appears today.

These glass panes still carry bullet holes from the December 7, 1941 attack.

The Pearl Harbor Aviation Museum on Ford Island houses a Boeing B17 Flying Fortress. Visitors to the museum can see this heavy bomber, along with many other planes that helped America win the war in the Pacific.

The Curtiss P-40 Warhawk was one of WWII’s most famous fighters.

This Douglas SBD (slow-but-deadly) Dauntless was the navy’s premier dive bomber of that day.

This massive burial ceremony was performed for the men killed at NAS Kaneohe Bay during the December 7th attack.

This signpost represents the crossroads to war in the Pacific.

Following the vicious attacks on Pearl Harbor, nearly every able-bodied American rushed to the recruiting office to do their part for the war effort.

My maternal grandfather, Robert Triebull, (on the right), crouches for a snapshot outside the Lan Ting restaurant, Waikiki, Hawaii.

Robert Triebull enlisted in the navy. He drove Marines to shore on landing craft (LCVP) during seven major battles in the Pacific. Click on the following link to read more of his story:

Diary of a Higgins Boat Sailor in the Pacific

My paternal Grandfather, Richard Cutler, serving as a Marine in the jungles of the Pacific.

Richard Cutler joined the Marines when the war broke out. He served as a rifleman and also played the saxophone in the Marine Corps band. Read more of his story by clicking this link:

A Leatherneck with a Saxophone Takes to the Pacific

Many scenes from the Pacific Theater can be revisited at Pearl Harbor Memorial.

The USS Missouri (BB-63) is now permanently moored at Ford Island, Hawaii, USA.

Signing an end to WWII aboard the USS Missouri Battleship.

On September 2, 1945, the Japanese joined with allied forces aboard the battleship USS Missouri (BB-63) to sign the Instruments of Surrender. This event marked the allies’ victory over Japan and the ended the war.

Big John takes his mother to meet Sterling Cale, one of the last remaining survivors of the Pearl Harbor Attack.

Sterling Cale is a true American Hero. He went on to survive the attack on Pearl Harbor, only to serve again in both the Korean War and Vietnam. On the day of our visit, Sterling Cale was at the park signing autographs for his inspiring autobiography.

Remembering Pearl Harbor

Through the passing of time, historical events can become so distant that they adopt an almost abstract quality to them. In remembering Pearl Harbor, I hope we always remember that the men that died there, and those men and women that ultimately served and sacrificed in the Second World War, were not some abstract figures in some bygone, abstract event. The attack on Pearl Harbor – the day that will live in infamy – involved the very heart of America, our very own families and friends.

Happy travels,

Big John

#Hawaii #Oahu #pearl harbor #WW2

[proserpine-in-phases]

Tagged by @acequeenking for a meme!

Rule: Tag nine people you want to get to know better!

Relationship status: entirely lacking in the ability to be emotionally vulnerable and open enough to form romantic connections, and entirely too aware of that fact so like. single as fuck, and fine with it.

Favorite color: gimme all them fine ass blue colors in the cerulean to aqua to navy, just all of them, I love the color blue

Lipstick or chapstick: Chapstick, especially in the winter when if I don’t use it my lips will bleed.

Last song I listened to: whatever song it is that plays for the intro to the adventure zone, I guess.

Last movie I watched: In Theaters? shit, I don’t even remember. was it deadpool? I think it was deadpool. on tv, I think pacific rim? but I’m not 100% sure about either of these, because it’s been a really fuckin long time since I’ve watched any movie at all.

Top 3 TV shows:  The three shows I’ll watch whenever they’re on and I’m watching TV are Forensic Files, Face Off (I should specify that I mean the monster make up competition show and not the john travolta/nic cage 90s action flick) and Project Runway. Three shows that ARENT reality tv shows that I really love are, shocking no one, Danny Phantom, Cowboy Bebop and Trigun. 

Top 3 characters: just randomly because I have a hard time ranking this type of thing:

- I mean obviously Dave Strider from homestuck, he’s been my icon for like over a year now so he seems like a shoe in

- Leia Rolando from Tales of Xillia, just a ray of fuckin sunshine and positivity and self doubt, and an anchor of normalcy in a cast made up of geniuses, traitors, and a literal goddess. I love her.

- Dib from Invader Zim. I’ve always loved the Cassandra type characters, who know what’s up but are never believed. plus he has a lot of great lines.

Top 3 ships: 

- Female Shepard/ Garrus Vakarian/ Tali’Zorah – I knew I wanted to jump that bird man’s bones the minute I saw him in the council chambers, and I fell in love with tali the second she threw that grenade. he’s a fuckin nerd, so earnest but sarcastic, and with a paragon shep tamping down his worse traits, and tali taking the piss out of him as needed. tali is so sweet and so obviously just a little in love with both of them by the time the end of me3 rolls around depending on who’s romanced and all that. and shep, with the two squad mates who’ve been with her through it all, being able to rely on them for support in all areas of her life, both in and out of combat. just damn. I love it. anyway, yeah. ot3.

- grey ghost aka danny/valerie. love me some of that adversarial secret identity complicated conflicted romantic bullshit, hell yeah. they have such a great dynamic both when val’s trying to murder his ghost ass and when they’re two “normal” teenagers trying to figure out this whole dating thing, plus I love me some of that irony what with the danny knowing what’s up but val not and shit. good shit.

- dave/jade/karkat- two for three on the ship list with ot3s what can I say? I just love how these three interact, especially what we see in the snapchats where apparently they all live together haha

Books I’m currently reading:

well I mean I’ve picked up a few books to read, including Hawk by Steven Brust, the latest (?) in the Vlad Taltos series which I have loved since high school, and a collection of short stories by Margaret Atwood, and the mass effect official books, but I can’t really say I’ve been reading them because instead I’ve been listening to the Adventure Zone, and when I haven’t been doing that I’ve been reading fanfic more than anything else.

ps the ao3 tags for both taz and for like, all of the tales games I care about are really small, someone should get on that and write more, I’ve reached the end for like, all of them haha.

Tagging: Whoever, you can say I tagged you. I just don’t like putting people on the spot, you dig? but like, if you read this and wished I had tagged you, then consider yourself tagged my man, fill out the survey and submit to win a prize (the prize is the joy of living your truth)

#meme #getting to know you #getting to know what you're like #probably I've been listening to the adventure zone too much? #I mean I'm almost done with a second complete listen and am contemplating a third just becuase why the hell not

[jacewilliams1]

Full circle: learning to fly and retiring at SFO

In 1952, San Francisco Airport had not yet achieved the grand title of San Francisco International; it was still called Mills Field. The ground would not be broken until the following year for the complex of buildings that is now SFO. The terminal building at Mills would have fit comfortably into the entrance lobby of today’s International Terminal. It was a calm and gentle place then; passengers arrived at leisure, and, after a simple check-in uncomplicated by the clicking of computer keyboards, they made their unhurried way along the sidewalk to the gate in the chain link fence that led to their aircraft, waiting placidly in the sun.

No one had yet hijacked an airliner, and onlookers and small boys were constrained only by the danger of walking into a turning propeller. I could, and did, spend hours behind the chain link fence patiently watching the arrival and departure of flight after flight, fascinated and awed by the majesty and presence of the man in the pilot’s seat.

SFO was a quiet place in 1952.

The number of airlines that served the airport in 1952 were numbered in single digits: United was the colossus that stood astride half of the available ramp space, just as it does today, except that in 1952 the queen of its fleet was the DC-6. United had perhaps a dozen departures per day, including the venerable Valley Queen, a DC-3 that plied its leisurely way to Los Angeles with stops at Stockton, Merced, Modesto, ad nauseum (sometimes literally) down the San Joaquin valley to LAX. I think the trip probably took the better part of a day.

American and TWA were two long-lived entries on the short list of carriers in 1952 – American with their DC-6s sporting the orange cheat line that ended in the lightning bolt splashed across the nose, and TWA with its still-familiar red and white livery gracing their exotic looking Connies which sported names like Star of India.

Western Airlines was there with its newest acquisition, the Convair 240, the modern twin-engined airliner with the rear stairs that was loudly proclaimed to be the DC-3’s replacement. How could we foresee that long after the Convairs have served their purpose the old -3s would still be plugging along? Western, of course, is no longer, having been swallowed by Delta in the 1980s. The local entry was Southwest Airlines, strictly a DC-3 outfit that puddle-jumped back and forth across the coast range and into the valley, as far north as Eureka and south to Los Angeles. Southwest became Pacific Airlines, then Hughes Airwest, then they too became an irresistible morsel, easily ingested.

Across the way, at the seaplane base on the other side of the runways, was the Pacific headquarters of the mighty Pan American. A breed apart, the aristocratic flag carrier generated its handful of daily departures from its own terminal, and periodic sightings of the stately Stratocruisers taxiing down the long parallel taxiway always seemed to make the heart beat just a little faster. They were a majestic sight, ejecting great noxious clouds of Rislone from the cylinders of the huge Wright engines as they moved ponderously along.

Located snug up against the northern parallel taxiway, about where the American Airlines hangar is today, was a small building that housed the airport’s only fixed base operator. Owned by a dashing ex-Navy pilot named Harry Cranston, it boasted two vintage Ercoupes and a spanking new, exotic-looking V-tailed Bonanza. Cranston had a terse, no-nonsense manner and he dressed every bit the part, usually sporting a leather flying jacket that cried out “Dogfight!” and “Adventure!”

Learning to fly at SFO meant mixing it up with Pan Am flying boats.

During that high school summer, I frantically looked for work at the airport, willing to do anything that would require me to be in close proximity to an airplane. The opportunities were limited, and Cranston’s Flying Service became the last resort. I presented myself in the owner’s office, hat figuratively in hand. Perhaps he saw something of himself in the plaintive teen-ager standing before him, but for whatever reason, he took me on. He explained that he was unable to pay me any wages, but in return for gassing and washing airplanes and doing general chores around the office, he would pay me in flying lessons. Maybe he was shrewder than I thought.

I fairly leapt with joy. Here was a situation beyond my wildest dreams! All I had to do was convince my parents that this was a superb idea. The stickler was going to be my mother’s great reluctance to commit her son into the hands of an unknown aviator, all of whom in her eyes were irresponsible daredevils. Not until she went herself to the airfield to meet Harry Cranston in person did she and my father reluctantly agree to the summer’s agenda.

And so it happened that the very first takeoff and landing that would initiate a 43-year love affair with aviation and airplanes was made at San Francisco Airport. The little red Ercoupe with no rudder pedals was tucked in between the giant DC-6s and Stratocruisers as we taxied out for that first departure. I was in the left seat. My excitement knew no bounds as we flew those first few lessons, and my confidence soared when Harry confided that I seemed to have a natural aptitude for the air.

We flew when the demands of the business allowed, which was fairly often, as there didn’t seem to be much call for the charter services that were the backbone of Cranston’s air service. (I remember very few other students.) When the occasional charter for the Bonanza came in, he would take me along, load permitting, and let me fly the empty airplane back home.

The summer flew by in a heartbeat, and somehow Harry saw to it that, by the time I returned to school, I had amassed enough hours to take the Private Pilot Flight Test. Since Cranston was also the local FAA (it was then called the CAA) examiner, all he had to do was change hats, but not before making it clear that this was going to be no Santa Claus of a checkride. Perhaps he bent over backwards to be objective, but I have vivid recollections of that check, the first of many I would take over the years. It was one of the toughest I ever flew.

And intrepid adventuress.

At any rate, I passed; and my first flight as a real pilot with a passenger was from San Francisco Airport. The intrepid adventuress who climbed aboard was none other than my mother, she of the skeptical eye towards daring and reckless aviators. Scarf tightly knotted beneath her chin, she gamely endured the 30 minutes of wind-blown flight, clutching the sides of the seat with her misgivings held carefully in check. How could she refuse such an invitation from her own proud son?

So great was her relief at coming back to earth that she exclaimed with great excitement on the incredible smoothness of the landing. Crestfallen, I was forced to admit that we had not yet touched down. In later years she would fly with me as a passenger in the airliners that I flew, no doubt just as apprehensive as ever, but outwardly calm and serene, never admitting to anything but calm resignation. She delighted for years in telling the story of that first flight, and, knowing what I do now, I wonder if I would have been as brave.

The career began in earnest a few years later, and spanned 43 years by the time it finally finished. It covered nearly 30,000 hours flown in over 40 different aircraft types. In my logbook are nearly 1,000 Atlantic crossings, and 300 of the Pacific; landings in nearly every one of the 50 United States and more than 50 countries. They were made in all types of weather, at every hour around the clock, Category II or CAVOK, it made no difference. The airplane didn’t care; as far as the hardware was concerned they were all the same. All it took to keep the machinery happy was to keep concrete under the wheels and away from everywhere else.

Eventually it came time for the last landing. By incredible coincidence, the airline phase of the career came to rest not only at San Francisco International, but finished on the same runway, 28 Right, probably close to the very same spot where it began 43 years earlier. This time the aircraft was slightly larger, a 747 with a full complement of customers in the back. Between the first takeoff and the last landing lay the memories of an odyssey that I would not trade for all the gold in Fort Knox or all the riches of Croesus. I’m sure there were passengers as nervous and queasy about their aerial journey as my mother on that first trip, but during that 43 year full circle, no one ever received a scratch – not on my airplane!

The post Full circle: learning to fly and retiring at SFO appeared first on Air Facts Journal.

from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2019/06/full-circle-learning-to-fly-and-retiring-at-sfo/

[thewebofslime]

estled to the south of Vandenberg Air Force Base's massive 15,000-foot runway and connected to it by a long, private taxiway sits a peculiar facility encased inside two layers of security fencing, with its entrance from the taxiway only accessible via a pair of sliding gates. At first glance, its appearance is reminiscent of a high-security prison, but this facility is meant to keep people out, not keep them in. But the origins of this highly peculiar installation are far higher-profile in nature than whatever its mission is now. JOURNALISTS HAD A SURPRISE CLOSE ENCOUNTER WITH AN RQ-170 SENTINEL AT VANDENBERG AFB By Tyler Rogoway Posted in THE WAR ZONE IS THIS CONCEPT ART OF A MYSTERIOUS SPACE LAUNCH MOTHERSHIP A MISSING LINK IN AREA 51'S PAST? By Tyler Rogoway and Joseph Trevithick Posted in THE WAR ZONE WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH LOCKHEED'S GABBING ABOUT THE SECRETIVE HYPERSONIC SR-72? By Tyler Rogoway Posted in THE WAR ZONE BEHOLD ARGUABLY THE MOST SPECTACULAR PHOTO OF NASA'S SHUTTLE CARRIER AIRCRAFT EVER By Tyler Rogoway Posted in THE WAR ZONE EXCLUSIVE: UNIQUELY CONFIGURED RQ-170 STEALTH SPY DRONE APPEARS AT VANDENBERG AFB By Tyler Rogoway Posted in THE WAR ZONE Years ago, I wrote a feature on Vandenberg Air Force Base's Space Launch Complex Six (SLC-6) very colorful, but not widely known past. It was built to launch the Air Force's own Space Shuttle and was a far cry from the expansive Apollo-inherited infrastructure NASA's Space Shuttles operated from at Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Instead, SLC-6 was a remarkably compact facility tucked between the California coastline and a the Santa Ynez mountain range. To put it simply, it looked like something right out of a James Bond movie, not reality. DOD SLC-6 with Enterprise mocked-up on the pad. Part of the infrastructure needed for the USAF's Space Shuttle program beyond SLC-6 was an Orbiter Processing Facility (OPF). A critical piece of the Shuttle's operation, the OPF was a highly customized hangar facility designed to regenerate the Orbiter after each mission. Originally, this was supposed to include a fairly abbreviated process, allowing for continuous access to orbit on the cheap, but as the Shuttle program progressed, this operations model—and the business case that supported it—dematerialized, with the Orbiters having to go through a months-long and very expensive process of rehabilitation after each use. Regardless, the USAF needed its own OPF at Vandenberg for independent operations. From what we can tell, the base's OPF was built in a very logical place, just south of the runway that would recover the Shuttle after most missions and where the Shuttle Carrier Aircraft would ferry the Orbiter to when landings at another runway were necessary. With a long private taxiway accessing the end of Vandenberg's runway, the Orbiter could be towed back to the OPF with ease, where it would be turned around for the next mission. It would then be towed to SLC-6, located 10 miles to the south, for mating with its fuel tank, boosters, and payload before launch. The thing is, none of this ever happened. By the mid-1980s, the Space Shuttle was already proving to be a far more resource-intensive capability than what was originally envisioned. Once the Challenger blew up during ascent, the Air Force canned its Space Shuttle dreams and moved to invest in other ways to access space as it needed, some of which may have been quite experimental and exotic in nature. In the years that followed, SLC-6 was repurposed, although without success, until it found the right fit in the mid-2000s, as I described when I wrote about SLC-6 in 2015: After the cancellation of the Defense Department’s arm of the Shuttle Program, SLC-6 was used by multiple defense contractors with varying results (see a full launch list here). By the early 2000s, a legend that the complex was badly cursed had grown to massive proportions, as so many billions of dollars had been poured into the installation, under the guise of a whole slew of programs, with very little to show for it in the end. Finally, in the mid-2000s, Boeing took over the facility and re-utilized much of the Shuttle’s infrastructure for their Delta IV rocket program. The first Delta IV Medium rocket was triumphantly launched from the long-beleaguered complex in 2006. Since then, the once doomed SLC-6 has performed extremely well launching large payloads into space, most of which contain America’s most high-tech and secretive space-based spying technologies. This is somewhat of an ironic reprieve for the site as it had unsuccessfully been envisioned as facilitating just that mission for close to half a century. While we know all about the history of SLC-6 and how it eventually found success after decades of uncertainty, the Orbiter Processing Facility at Vandenberg is something of an information black hole. I wanted to follow-up on my popular SLC-6 story with a feature about the geographically separated OPF's own history and what it is up to now, but there was little to no information of any about it. This seemed very odd for something of such historic significance and that is quite large and elaborate and situated on a fairly high-profile Air Force installation. There is nothing secretive about the OPFs at Kennedy Space Center, which has three of them arranged near the gigantic Vehicle Assembly Building. After the Space Shuttle program was shuttered, those facilities have been given a whole new life. Two are leased by Boeing to support the USAF's X-37B miniature spaceplane program. The other is also leased by Boeing, but is used for their CST-100 Starliner capsule program. Yet when it comes to Vandenberg's OPF, the tenant is completely unknown. In fact, it seems as if it was never disclosed in the decades that followed the abortive military Space Shuttle program. NASA OPFs at Kennedy Space Center. Check out just how elaborate, large, and advanced the OPFs are: Vandenberg AFB seems to be quite open when it comes to its various tenants and uses for its launch facilities. There are multiple rocket assembly buildings scattered all around the base used for a number of customers and programs, but nothing as expansive as the OPF. With this in mind, I reached out to the base's public affairs shop in hopes of getting a simple answer as to what the facility is used for today, or at least about its history following the collapse of the Pentagon's Shuttle Program. It turns out, they are not willing to share any information about the facility or really even comment on its existence. So, this leaves us with an odd mystery of sorts. Secret hangar facilities working on undisclosed projects are usually the domain of remote locales, like those in the expansive deserts of the American Southwest. But really, there is no other facility that comes to mind that is better suited with operating an incredibly advanced and clandestine aircraft that needs a lot of space to operate in. First off, the facility is located deep within an already highly secure facility. This offers high security, but also far better accessibility compared to the remote options in the Nevada desert and elsewhere. Second, the OPF is basically the most 'Cadillac' of hangars ever constructed, capable of fully renovating a Space Shuttle with all its exotic materials and workshop needs. Vandenberg's OPF is even larger than those at Kennedy Space Center. In addition, it was already built and paid for by the USAF for a program that never actually materialized. GOOGLE EARTH Third, it has incredible accessibility to one of the longest runways in the United States. Whatever lives inside that hangar can taxi—or be towed—from its ultra-secure roost, out directly to the end of the runway and launch without even having to use the airfield's shared aprons and taxiways. It can do the same in reverse for recovery. If the aircraft in question can be transported by airlifter in a disassembled state, moving it to and from its loading area on the base would also be an extremely secure and private affair. GOOGLE EARTH GOOGLE EARTH Finally, and most importantly, Vandenberg AFB sits on the California Coast adjacent to where vast military range facilities are located. Literally, the airspace off Vandenberg is part of gargantuan range complex that extends over the Channel Islands and far out into the Pacific and down along the Baja Peninsula. This is where the Navy and the Air Force do some of their most extensive and sensitive testing, including live missile shoots and highly integrated war games. Combined, these ranges absolutely dwarf those that exist over land, including the expansive Nellis Test and Training Range that occupies a huge chunk of Southern Nevada. In fact, from what we understand, quite a bit of testing of secretive aircraft based in the deserts of the western U.S. occurs over these over-water ranges. Being able to access them without flying over the population in itself is also a huge plus. GLOBALSECURITY.ORG The huge range complexes that extend out from the California Coast. We also know that Vandenberg AFB does have a test function for secretive aircraft, in particular, unmanned ones. The RQ-170 program has a detachment there and the bat-winged drones fly from the base's runways fairly regularly. We also know they use the airfield's main ramp and hangar for their operations, not the expansive OPF. It's hard to stress how unique this arrangement is. Although people often think secret aircraft can be shoved in any hangar on any base, that simply is not the case. Few facilities have the ability to offer high-security and isolation, while also ease of operations and access to vast sanitized airspace like what we see at Vandenberg. So, what lives inside the historic OPF today? We have no idea, but logic points to a number of possibilities and one's imagination can pretty much run down the rabbit hole from there. Something capable of high speed, that would require the base's long runway and the huge range complex that sits adjacent to it makes a lot of sense. Sonic booms, deep rumblings in the sky, and strange contrails have been present off the SoCal coast dating back to the late 1980s. In fact, those reports continue to this very day. It's also worth noting that the D-21/M-21 combo, a parasite drone-mothership system that is part of the A-12 Oxcart/SR-71 Blackbird family of aircraft, was tested in secrecy over this range complex as over-land alternatives were far too restrictive and problematic. The utility of high-speed platforms has made a drastic resurgence as of late, with the Pentagon investing billions into hypersonic capabilities of many flavors. One of these is the much talked about 'SR-72' hypersonic unmanned strike and reconnaissance aircraft that Lockheed is working on. As I have posited in detail, it seems as if the corporate chatter we are hearing about this craft is a reflection of the past, not the present. Lockheed's competition is also interested in getting a taste of the USAF's high-speed reusable aircraft buck. Regardless of who owns it, the OPF would be perfectly suited to such a machine or a technology demonstrator progenitor to it. YOUTUBE SCREENCAP Lockheed's notional SR-72 design. A reusable spacecraft launched from a larger mothership that sorties from a different location, but recovers at Vandenberg is another possibility. It's also a concept which we have delved into deeply in the past and one the USAF was interested following the collapse of the Shuttle Program. The OPF's main bay is roughly 150 feet across as measured on Google Earth, so it's not a like a massive aircraft could occupy the facility, but something the size of the Space Shuttle certainly isn't small either. On the other hand, a smaller two-stage-to-orbit space-launch system capable of putting small payloads in orbit could also possibly call the OPF home. A facility used to support a small force of experimental, autonomous, and highly networked unmanned combat air vehicle (UCAV) drones would also be beneficial as they could use the vast range spaces to put their capabilities to the test. The OPF's shadowy status would certainly fit with the equally puzzling status of any kind of USAF UCAV program. You can read more about this strange reality here. There are other, far more exotic possibilities to ponder as well, even if just for one's imagination's sake, one of which was actually present in the region during a notorious series of events that occurred off the Baja Coast back in 2004. On the other hand, maybe the OPF has a far more mundane purpose. But if that's the case, why not offer some details about it, especially considering the facility's historic significance? With the Space Shuttle program in America's rear-view mirror now, its story will only become more fascinating, and a large part of it doesn't have to do with NASA, it has to do with the Pentagon. Hopefully, we will find out what happened to Vandenberg's abortive Orbiter Processing Facility and how it ended up influencing the future of aerospace technology sooner rather than later.

#TheWebOfSlime