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eggbreadboi · 8 months

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F1 Wing AU partial modern lineup pt. 1/?

written in the vague style of a news article profile type deal to try and convey attitudes of the au's world.

55-Carlos Sainz-Ferrari Spanish Imperial Eagle With the second largest wings on the grid in 2021, Sainz is a powerful placement as Ferrari's number two. While less promising in straight-line speed than his teammate, his lift advantage at takeoff and the edge his large frame grants him in defending from overtakes makes him a formidable opponent. A common Ferrari issue, pseudo-territorial disputes between raptors have been avoided thus far due to Carlos's friendly demeanor, even when things are tense on the track.

16-Charles Leclerc-Ferrari Peregrine Falcon They call him "Il Predestinato". Despite their informal policy of hiring only the most promising raptor racers, Charles is the first peregrine falcon Ferrari has seen is a while. His wings paired with improved tech bring the promise of record breaking speed but thus far he's been hampered by mechanical failures and a team seemingly incapable of tailoring their jet engines to individual racers. The PR team on the other hand focuses on Charles a fair bit, doing everything in their power to flaunt his airborne grace when he is out of his gear.

3-Daniel Ricciardo-McLaren Blue-Winged Kookaburra The Honeybadger. Picked up by McLaren after leaving Red Bull, Daniel continues his streak of being an unorthodox pick, jumping from one team which favors raptors to another. He seems to make up for any doubts with his direct flight style and powerful wings which provide surprising edge during takeoff. The bright blue of his feathers is a welcome spot of color among the grays and browns dominating the grid, and the contrast between his bright, jovial appearance and his flight style does a lot to live up to his nickname. 33-Max Verstappen-Red Bull Northern Goshawk Number three in the wing size rankings and boasting wings capable of both great strength and great precision, Max Verstappen is viewed as a true born and bred racer. He's an imposing figure in Red Bull advertisements, but behind the scenes, the up-and-coming champion deals with controversy around his ascension to F1. Focused on the fact that at 17, when he joined with Red Bull, Max had not yet molted into his first set of adult flight feathers, the controversy around health and safety regulations for young fliers being extended to F1 forced the Fia to set age limits for racers. Max has spent his early career trying to avoid being the face of a safety scandal, and instead focused on leaning into his reputation as the inevitable future champion of the new generation.

44-Lewis Hamilton-Mercedes AMG Violet Backed Starling The greatest of them all, standing out on the track and off. This carries over to his wings as well, the brightest and most colorful on the grid. The iridescent purples of his feathers make a real statement in promotional materials, and on track, making him easy to keep track of throughout the race. His partnership with Nico Rosberg(Turtledove), one of few high performing lineups to not feature a raptor racer, at Mercedes cemented the team as one of those opposed to wing type requirements and favoring a more personalized, precision built approach to jet propulsion gear. 5-Sebastian Vettel-Aston Martin Grey Headed Albatross The racer with the largest wings on the grid. Sebastian's greatest edge is his endurance, outpacing the others on the grid by large margins on the longer circuits. The press often swirls with speculation about a future career in endurance racing, though Sebastian has proved very able to employ his advantage in the faster paced world of F1. Despite struggling at takeoff, the strength of Sebastian's wings is formidable, and his wingspan allows him to safely focus on a more offensive flight style. His tenure at Aston Martin has been somewhat disappointing, but the German has effectively made the most of it, bringing a friendly nature to the paddock, living up to the faithful and steady reputation of an albatross in his later years on the grid. He's known to take days long flights over the ocean after races. The press hasn't been able to catch up (not for lack of trying). 7-Kimi Raikkonen-Alfa Romeo Razorbill Auk The Iceman, with the wings of a bird that lives in cold arctic and subarctic seas. Like his friend Sebastian, Kimi struggles at takeoff, but in flight he is as swift as a bullet. A masterful, experienced flier who excels at overtaking other racers, Kimi was one of a couple high profile, successful exemptions to Ferrari's informal raptor-only sign-on policy. Now at Alfa Romeo, the Finn has found a team more willingly to adapt to his flight style, though mechanical limitations have hampered his results.

22-Yuki Tsunoda-Alpha Tauri Bull-headed Shrike A rookie in the 2022 season, Yuki is a strong, decisive flier who makes full use of Alpha Tauri's status as a sister team used for experimental jet gear designs to push for gear that plays to his strengths and makes up for his comparative lack of endurance. Yuki's wings short and allow for great maneuverability and an advantage during overtaking, though this same trait forces him to be very actively defensive when another racer comes up behind. 10-Pierre Gasly-Alpha Tauri Red Rumped Swallow His wings are perfect for rapid maneuvers and needlepoint turns, similar to Yuki, and Pierre joins his teammate in squeezing the most out of the Alpha Tauri machines. They work well together, thanks to their similar preferences with regards to jet gear. Pierre is a true classic racer, a well liked younger member of the grid, and very popular with marketing. His and Yuki's near-matching plumage colors are often shown off in photo-ops.

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generic-sonic-fan · 9 months

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Thinking about Metal Sonic and clothing.

Jet engines need airflow to function. Anything in front of this airflow can get ingested into the engine, which is, in general, really bad for it. It's vital to keep the area in front of the engine intake clear.

And anything behind the engine is going to be subjected to a constant stream of scorching hot air, the same hot air that's responsible for providing thrust. Attempting to cover this end would ruin any fabric and hinder the engine's performance.

You can see these facts taken into account with Neo Metal Sonic's design. He wears shoulder pads and a skirt, but no shirt. His engine is not only clear of any material but displayed prominently as a design accent.

But if Metal Sonic did want to wear a full outfit of clothing with no bare spots, what would work? Metal would either have to sacrifice readiness by wearing clothing that would take more time to remove or choose to destroy any clothing impeding the engine in cases where a quick takeoff is needed.

Or, alternatively, she could wear a backless halter top, in which case she could undo the tied strap around her neck and let the top fall before she accelerates. What I'm trying to say is that she rocks halter-top dresses, thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#metal sonic #sth

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transgenderer · 4 months

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The Goodyear Inflatoplane was an inflatable experimental aircraft made by the Goodyear Aircraft Company, a subsidiary of Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company, well known for the Goodyear blimp. Although it seemed an improbable project, the finished aircraft proved to be capable of meeting its design objectives, although orders were never forthcoming from the military. A total of 12 prototypes were built between 1956 and 1959, and testing continued until 1972, when the project was finally cancelled.

The original concept of an all-fabric inflatable aircraft was based on Taylor McDaniel's inflatable rubber glider experiments in 1931. Designed and built in only 12 weeks, the Goodyear Inflatoplane was built in 1956, with the idea that it could be used by the military as a rescue plane to be dropped in a hardened container behind enemy lines. The 44 cubic ft (1.25 cubic meter) container could also be transported by truck, jeep trailer or aircraft.[1] The inflatable surface of this aircraft was actually a sandwich of two rubber-type materials connected by a mesh of nylon threads, forming an I-beam. When the nylon was exposed to air, it absorbed and repelled water as it stiffened,[clarification needed] giving the aircraft its shape and rigidity. Structural integrity was retained in flight with forced air being continually circulated by the aircraft's motor. This continuous pressure supply enabled the aircraft to have a degree of puncture resilience, the testing of airmat showing that it could be punctured by up to six .30 calibre bullets and retain pressure.[2][3] Goodyear inflatoplane on display at the Smithsonian Institution

There were at least two versions: The GA-468 was a single-seater. It took about five minutes to inflate to about 25 psi (170 kPa); at full size, it was 19 ft 7 in (5.97 m) long, with a 22 ft (6.7 m) wingspan. A pilot would then hand-start the two-stroke cycle,[1] 40 horsepower (30 kW) Nelson engine, and takeoff with a maximum load of 240 pounds (110 kg). On 20 US gallons (76 L) of fuel, the aircraft could fly 390 miles (630 km), with an endurance of 6.5 hours. Maximum speed was 72 miles per hour (116 km/h), with a cruise speed of 60 mph. Later, a 42 horsepower (31 kW) engine was used in the aircraft.

Takeoff from turf was in 250 feet with 575 feet needed to clear a 50-foot obstacle. It landed in 350 feet. Rate of climb was 550 feet per minute. Its service ceiling was estimated at 10,000 ft.

The test program at Goodyear's facilities near Wingfoot Lake, Akron, Ohio showed that the inflation could be accomplished with as little as 8 psi (544 mbar), less than a car tire.[1] The flight test program had a fatal crash when Army aviator Lt. "Pug" Wallace was killed. The aircraft was in a descending turn when one of the control cables under the wing came off the pulley and was wedged in the pulley bracket, locking the stick. The turn tightened until one of the wings folded up over the propeller and was chopped up. With the wings flapping because of loss of air, one of the aluminum wing tip skids hit the pilot in the head, as was clear from marks on his helmet. Wallace was pitched out, over the nose of the aircraft and fell into the shallow lake. His parachute never opened.[4]

To Die For the InflatoPlane

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theycallmebecca · 8 months

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18+ Drabble: Ari Levinson, Rock Star

Here it is! The result of the poll that ended last night, where you lovely people chose for Ari Levinson to be a rock star. I thought I knew what was going to happen in this drabble... and then it just took off on its own... for nearly 3,400 words.

This drabble is for my @the-slumberparty bingo card squares Rock Star AU and Airplane Sex. 😏

Title: Ari Levinson, Rock Star

Pairing: rock star!Ari Levinson x female reader

Rating: R

Warnings: semi-graphic sex

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

18+ Disclaimer: This work contains sexual material that is for those over the age of 18. By clicking the keep reading link below, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and are not offended by sexual content.

Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.

"So this is how the other half travels," you say as you follow Ari Levinson up the stairs to the private plane.

"Maybe," Ari says with a laugh. "But I only travel this way when I have a wedding to attend in Boston a mere 36 hours or so before I'm supposed to headline a show in LA."

"You're a really good friend," you tell him as you look around the small, but elegant plane. There's a long bench of white leather seats as well as four rows of traditional seats. "Where should I sit?"

"Wherever you'd like," Ari replies. "It'll just be the two of us."

You set your purse down and then turn to look at him. "Wait, what? Where's the rest of your band? Don't you have a full entourage?"

Ari chuckles before saying, "They're already in LA. I can travel by myself, I do so quite often. Just because I'm a rock star doesn't mean I'm a complete idiot."

"Mr. Levinson, we are preparing for takeoff," the lone flight attendant says. "Do you or your guest need anything?"

"No, we're good, but thank you," he responds.

"Very good, we'll close the door and proceed then," the flight attendant tells him. "Ring if you need anything."

Instead of sitting down next to Ari for the cross country flight, you take a seat in the row across from the seat he has chosen.

"You really don't travel like this every concert?" you ask him.

"Definitely not," he says with a laugh. "I'm subjected to a smelly tour bus with the rest of the band and crew."

While his voice is dripping with sarcasm, you can see the glint in his eyes as he speaks. The tour bus might be smelly and full, but you can tell he still loves it.

Until last night, you hadn't seen Ari since the summer before you graduated college when he and his band had played a concert at your university. You had gone and hadn't planned to say anything to Ari, until your roommate had found out that you knew him. She'd convinced you to try and get backstage to say hello, and, you know, for her mingle with the band.

You'd convinced the security guard that you were a friend of Ari's from high school, which almost failed until the band's drummer happened to walk past. You'd called his name, recognizing him from school, and the rest had been history.

At least for your roommate and the drummer. You'd introduced the two of them and they'd been inseparable ever since. Even after he decided to leave Ari's band to take over his dad's business.

It had been their wedding, last night, where you and Ari had reconnected.

The two of you had been catching up when you'd gotten a notification to your phone that your commercial flight to Los Angeles had been canceled. Upon learning that, he'd immediately offered to join him on his private flight and hadn't given you a second to protest before he'd sent a message to his manager that he would have an additional passenger on his flight.

"Thanks again," you say to him, once the plane is in the air. "You really saved me. I would have missed at least the first day of my conference."

"What kind of conference? Is it for work?" he asks, running his hands through his perfect, rock star length hair.

"Yes, for work," you reply, ignoring the first part of his question. It's not that you are embarrassed by your work, because you aren't, but not everyone understands.

"This plane has wifi," he says with a grin. "Don't make me google you."

Even though you know he won't find anything, you give in, because if there is anyone who would discover the truth it would be Ari. Even in school, he'd had the annoying habit of being able to find out things that people didn't want others to know.

"I'm a romance author," you confess. "I'm not speaking at the conference, or anything, but some of my friends are, so I wanted to support them and attend some of the panels."

"You must write under a pen name," Ari says, looking up from his phone. "What is it?"

"Ari, it's romance, I write romance," you state, feeling your face heat up. "You don't need to read it."

"I thought we already discussed the fact that I spend a lot of time on a tour bus. I have a lot of time on my hands and don't tell the guys, but after a while, even video games get boring."

You cave and tell him your pen name. Afterall, it wouldn't take much work for him to get the name from your former roommate anyway.

Ari lets out a whistle as he obviously looks at your bookography.

"My publisher insists that half naked men on the cover sell better than those without," you say defensively.

"They must know my publicist," Ari jokes. "Why else do you think I, a musician, ended up on the front cover of a workout magazine with my shirt off?"

"Do you ever wish you could just do the music thing without the fame part?" you ask, wanting the attention off of you and your books.

"Definitely, but I've been a starving musician and it's a rough life," he replies, putting his phone down. He gestures to the plane. "This is what people picture, but really, it's hours on the bus, often where you fall asleep in one state and wake up in a completely different one. Sometimes, in a completely different time zone. It's far from being the glamorous life of the rich and famous, for sure."

"Do you date?" you ask, impulsively. Then shake your head before adding, "Please don't answer that."

"I don't mind, not with you," he says. "After all, who better to tell than the neighbor who spied on me growing up."

"I did not spy on you!" you exclaim, wishing you had something to throw at him. "You were the one who went skinny dipping in your backyard in the middle of the night and forgot about the security lights. It woke me up and I thought someone was trying to break in. I didn't expect to see you and your -" you gesture to his nether regions.

"My dick?" he offers with a grin. "Based on the covers of your books and one of the reviews I saw, I'm willing to bet you have a lot of terms for it."

"Ari," you say warningly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says. "I couldn't resist, but I'll lay off for now. But if you ever decide to write a book about a hot rock star, I'm happy to lend a hand."

You clear your throat, slightly embarrassed.

"You've already written one," Ari says, sitting up straight. He grabs his phone and in pure know-it-all-Ari-fashion, it takes him less than a minute to find the book and read the synopsis.

"Alex Lewis is a famous country music star who is taking over the world and breaking hearts everywhere he goes. Until he returns to the small town he grew up to attend his grandma's funeral. There he is just Alex Lewis, the country boy, who left behind his high school sweetheart, Rachel Andrews, to pursue his dreams."

Ari stops reading and you can feel his eyes on you. The two of you were never actual high school sweethearts or anything close to it, but you had been close growing up with only six feet between your bedroom windows.

"I didn't have a plane this fancy in it," you say, trying to sound casual. "All my research led to what you already confirmed, that it's mostly tour buses and such."

Ari says your name, but you ignore him and continue, "Honestly, it would be a sure fire way to impress someone, though." You choose not to mention the other idea that being on a private plane brings to your mind, but you tuck it away for another day. Afterall, you're still working in the same universe that Alex and Rachel live in and you could write a novella for them.

"Is it?" Ari asks.

His voice is closer than it was and you look up to see him standing in the aisle.

He picks up your purse and sets it on the seat he vacated before he sits down next to you.

"Real talk," he says. "When we went to that party in 9th grade at Bobby's? I wanted nothing more than to kiss you when we were all playing spin the bottle."

You remembered that night. Bobby's parents had gone out and he'd invited a dozen or so people over for a party. The bottle had been spun maybe four times before his parents had shown up unannounced and put an end to the party. Your mom had picked you and Ari up and had lectured you both about peer pressure.

"I wanted to kiss you that night, too," you confess.

"I wrote my first song ever about you. It was a horrible song, but I had to write it. Had to express everything I was too afraid to say to you."

You study Ari's face. He has matured over the years, obviously, but you can still see a hint of the kid you'd grown up with.

"I feel like I'm a character in one of my own books," you whisper to him. "Childhood friends who secretly liked each other and couldn't admit it until years later when they are suddenly thrown together."

"Characters that weren't ready for each other when they were younger," Ari continues, making it obvious that he is familiar with romance novels. "They needed time to figure out who they were without each other so that when the time was right, they knew they'd live happily ever after together."

Silence falls between the two of you as you process everything that's been said during the last few minutes.

Ari's confessions were everything you'd dreamed of as a teenager, but now you and Ari are grown adults who don't know much about each other and he is at the beginning of what is slated to be a two and a half year long world tour.

"I can work from anywhere," you blurt out.

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, but seems to figure it out quickly enough. "Like in the back of a smelly tour bus? Or backstage at a concert venue?"

You nod your head. You know it's too fast for that, but the fact of the matter is that you can write anywhere.

"Good to know," Ari says. He sets his hand on the armrest between you, palm up, and you put your hand on top of his.

—---------

One Year Later

"I can't believe you got us the same plane," you say to Ari as you sit down.

"I wouldn't be the perfect husband for a romance author if I didn't," Ari states as he takes the seat next to you.

"Husband," you repeat with a silly grin on your face.

"Wife," he replies with a grin of his own.

After dating long distance for a few months, you sublet your apartment and went on tour with him full time. Then, after an awards show in Vegas, the two of you had eloped with just his band members in attendance.

Now, after stopping at home to renew your vows in front of family and friends, you and Ari are heading overseas for the European leg of his tour. The rest of the band and crew are already there, intentionally, and the two of you are, once again, flying privately just the two of you.

"We could have flown with everyone else," you say to him as the plane reaches altitude.

"We could have," he agreed. "But there's something we couldn't do with them on the plane."

You arch your brow but have to wait for him to explain when the door opens and the same flight attendant from the last flight comes in carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

"Thank you," Ari says as she sets them down in a place obviously designed for them to remain secure.

"Ring if you need anything else," the flight attendant says.

"Would you like some champagne?" Ari asks, standing up to pour some.

"Yes, but first tell me what you were going to say," you insist.

"Alex and Rachel's love scene in that Valentine's Day book," he says with a twinkle in his eye, speaking of the book you'd released a few months into your relationship. "I want to recreate it."

"Now? Here?" You gesture to the plane.

"Yes," he says, handing you a champagne flute.

You narrow your eyes and ask, "Ari, is this why you insisted that we have our own, private flight to Paris?"

"Well this and getting to spend an extra night in our own bed," he answers. "I've only slept in that bed maybe 10 times since we got it."

Despite your insistence that you could work from anywhere, Ari had decided he wanted to live near where you guys had grown up. You'd given up your apartment and the two of you had moved into a modest house in a gated community that offered some semblance of security for a rock star and his romance writing wife.

"Alex was more seductive in his approach," you point out. "He at least had the decency to flash his abs to Rachel before he suggested they do it on the plane."

"Alex has nothing on me," Ari scoffs. He hands you his champagne flute and pulls off his t-shirt, tossing it across the aisle.

He reaches for the button on his jeans and you stop him, knowing full well he is commando under them.

"Slow down, turbo," you tease. "We have plenty of time."

"You compared me to a fictional character," he mutters as he sits down.

"A fictional character that I based off of you," you remind him as you study him. "A character that, honestly, fails to live up to the original." Leaning over, you kiss his shoulder. "Let's finish our drinks and then I'll show you why I wore a dress."

Ari pauses with his glass halfway to his lips and then his eyes drop to the skirt of your dress. "I know what your characters usually have under their dresses when you specifically mention them in the lead up to a sex scene," he says and then adjusts the front of his pants.

You smirk into your champagne flute.

A year ago, you weren't sure how Ari would react to the sex scenes in your books, not to mention the way your mind often worked through sex scenes as you were writing them. But he'd quickly become an asset when it came to writing them, especially when it came to trying certain positions to see if they were possible.

Champagne finished, and the glasses safely returned to a special holder, you lift the arm rest between the seats and pull Ari's hand over to your lap, encouraging him to discover what you both already knew: you'd slipped your panties off before the flight had taxied to the runway.

"Fuck," he groans as his fingers find the heated, bare flesh of your womanhood.

He makes to get down between the seats to see you and taste you there, but there isn't enough space between the seats.

"Fuck this," he says before picking you up and carrying you the short distance to the bench.

Your laughter fades away as he hikes the skirt of your dress up and begins to play. He teases the soft skin of your inner thigh and has you squirming and begging for his touch in no time.

"Please, Ari, please," you beg him as his fingers brush your sensitive numb again, sending shocks of desire through your body.

"I love it when you say my name all breathy like that." He smirks and then wraps his arms around your hips and pulls you forward so you're practically on the edge of the bench.

You moan as his fingers finally touch you there and your hips rock forward of their own accord. Years of playing guitar have left the skin of his fingers rough, but also amazingly strong from tip to base.

When you think you're about to come, he slithers a tongue through your slickness and takes you all the way to your breaking point. He softens his touch as you ride through your climax, but he doesn't let go of you completely.

"Fuck, I love your mouth," you mutter as you stare down at him. "Make love to me?"

"Forever," he responds. Standing up, he toes off his shoes and then drops his jeans to the ground. Then he looks at you and smiles when he finds your dress gone. "Couldn't wait?"

"For this?" you ask, reaching your hand out to caress his dick. "Never." The object in question seemingly grows harder in your hand.

"He's excited," Ari says with a shrug. "Can't say I blame him." He lets his eyes linger over your naked body. "I'm excited, too."

Letting go of him, you keep your eyes locked with his as you turn and lay down on the bench. He follows, positioning himself at your opening.

"Ari," you whine as he teases you by sliding in a little then pulling out.

"Babe," he mimics before he leans down and kisses you.

You gasp against his mouth as he finally slides all the way into you.

"They can't hear us," he whispers. "Be as loud as you want."

With his encouragement, you lose yourself in the moment as his body rocks against your own. You wrap your leg that isn't pinned to the side of the bench around his waist, groaning against his lips as you take him deeper.

It isn't until later, after you've both come and you're curled up in a blanket on the floor, that you find out just how much you lost yourself when you see the nail marks in Ari's skin.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a laugh.

"Guess it's a good thing I always wear a t-shirt on stage," he replies, leaning down to kiss you. "Besides, it's not like it's a secret or anything. I'm a married man." He holds up his left hand. "I wear this all the time, including on stage."

Grabbing his hand, you bring it to your lips and kiss his ring finger. You place his hand on your breast and close your eyes to rest.

"As happy as I am right now, I gotta admit, I wish you'd have realized how good I looked naked when we were 18," he says.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rest forgotten, you raise yourself onto an elbow and study him.

"I did it on purpose," he states. "I could have turned the security lights off, but I didn't. I wanted you to see me."

"Ari!" you exclaim, playfully swatting at his chest.

"I was desperate and maybe a little drunk," he admits. "But I guess it all worked out in the end."

"After you told all your friends that I spied on you from my bedroom window," you mutter.

"Ok, that was one of my weaker moments," he says with a laugh. "But I really thought you'd see me naked and want to be with me."

"How drunk were you?" you ask, cautiously.

"Drunk enough that I was going to declare my love for you that night until you stuck your head out your window and told me to put some clothes on and go to bed because some people had to work in the morning," he replies, perfectly mimicking your voice.

"Oh Ari," you sigh though it quickly dissolves into a giggle. "Leave the romance writing to me."

"You are not allowed to use that in a book," he says quickly and firmly.

"I'm sure I can convince you," you say, letting your hand glide down his torso under the blanket. "One way, or another."

By the time the plane touches down in Paris, France, you've convinced him multiple times over.

#navy and roo sleepover #theycallmebecca #theycallmebeccawrites #ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson fan fiction #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x y/n #becca writes 18+ drabbles

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fanfictresury · 11 months

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Voyager pt.2

Pg 13

Adam Warlock x reader

slow burn

part 2 : 1088 words

The next few weeks you spent most of your time trying to put Knowhere back together. You helped with stray tasks, watching kids, raccoons, going on supply runs, the second time you actually got a chance to talk to Adam, it was on one of these trips. You and Adam had been assigned to pick up some building materials on a planet a few parsecs away.

You stand at the entrance of your small ship, the hatch remains open as you wait for your new companion. You begin spacing out as the soft morning warmth put you back to sleep, only to be startled by a voice belonging to the very person you were supposed to be watching for

“Y/N! Are you the partner they were talking about?”

You smile, glad to see he’s in a far better mood than when you two first met, “Yup! Let’s get going so we can be back when it’s still light here.” Adam nods and walks onto the ship and studies it for a second. “Your ship is a lot smaller than I expected.”

You feel a twinge of insult at this statement, “well, she gets the job done, plus, she’s quite the tank.” Adam looks around again, then back to you. “If I’m correct, our mission is to retrieve supplies, yes?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well..” he starts but has to take a deep breath to continue, as if he doesn't want to be rude. “...isn’t it going to be, well, a tight fit?”

You look at him, more insulted than you probably should be. “Excuse me sir, but Pluto isn’t that small.” Then in a mumble you mention “and we aren't really picking up much.”

“Pluto? Is that the name of your ship?”

You nod, “yep, I named her after a planet- well, not a planet I guess. Basically, it’s a dwarf planet by my home.”

“You're from Terra, right?”

You hum in agreement then turn to your control panel, closing the door and sitting in your seat.

“I suggest you buckle up for lift off, she’s a good sailor in the skies, but her take offs..?” you wave your hand back and forth “...ehhhh.”

He sits in his seat, taking a second to find his safety harness before he clicks it and looks back at you expectantly.

“Ready to go?”

He nods as you turn on the engine, as you lift off there's a jerk backwards. You turn to Adam, to see a bewildered expression on his face, his grip seems to be tightening on his harness as Pluto lifts off.

You chuckle and turn back to the task at hand, “You alright there, buddy?”

In response he let out a strained “mhmmm..”.

---

After the takeoff it was smooth sailing.. You turned the ship to auto pilot and sat back, unbuckling your safety harness. You turn back to Adam, and to your surprise he seems nervous.

“You okay Adam? The takeoff wasn’t too harsh on you..was it?” your concerned voice most definitely carries to him because he seems to panic.

“No! No definitely fine, I’m okay.”

You can feel your brows furrow “then what’s wrong?”

He seems to be trying to calculate his next words as his eyes scan the ship “well, this is the first time we’ve really spoken other than..well, you know.” as his eyes scan, they pause on you for a questioning second. “Well,” you stand up and walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “my mind hasn’t changed on you since then.”

He smiles, this smile is just as wonderful as the first one. It manages to somehow be both soft and extremely bright as he looks at you. You look away after realizing you had been staring a minute too long. You clear your throat “well, if you want to unbuckle and explore the ship, you’re welcome to. Just don't break anything I guess.” you race away to the furthest corner, rearranging all of the magnets you had put on Pluto from past travels.

You step back to make sure all the magnets are present and accounted for, but get spooked when your back hits an unexpected surface. You spin around to see what you had run into to see Adam, which startled you even more. “Oh! Adam, I didn’t expect you to be that close um…what are you doing standing so close?”

He steps back suddenly and…blushes? It’s the closest thing you can compare it to when you’ve never seen his face become bright like that before.

“Oh I apologize! I was just curious as to what you were doing and…” He continues his rapid explanations, but you cut him off. “Woah woah! It’s alright man, just don't sneak up on me like that next time.” You didn’t realize how much taller he was until right now. You take a deep breath and open your mouth, ready to stay something, but your interrupted by a beeping

“Oh! We’re close, better get back to our seats.” You glance at Adam one more time and realize he was avoiding your eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

He glances up and sputters, “Oh- yes! I think I was just distracted.”

The two of you sit in an awkward air as you navigate to a landing pad. You unbuckle and pat his shoulder as you head over to the hatch

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turn back to see him shifting on his feet, seeming nervous. “What do you need, Adam?” you ask, he swallows and looks at you, “I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

He takes a deep breath, and looks back to the ground, “Y/N, you were the first kind person to me since- well really since my mother, and looking back on that I’m not sure she was-”

You decide to stop him before he goes into a full spiral, “Adam.”

He looked up, a bit startled, “Well, what I meant to say was you helped me. I needed that- that kindness you showed me.” He smiles a bit and you feel your chest warm. You make your way towards him and wrap your arms around him.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

You chuckle, “giving you a hug, stupid.”

“oh..” He sighs and you feel his arms wrap around you. You wish you never had to let go, but you did have a job to do.

“Alright.” you pull away and for a second see a look of pain flash across Adam’s face, “We gotta go do our jobs.”

#adam warlock #fanfic #adam warlock x you #adam warlock x reader #nervous adam #Pg 13 #Adam Warlock x reader #slow burn #:D give critique!

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runwayrunway · 6 months

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Hi! You might be wondering "aw, geez, where did that Runway Runway guy go? Last I heard he was off in England, and I haven't heard anything about someone on the ground there getting ingested into an engine while trying to pet one of the planes, so what gives?"

Well, truth is, I've been in the UK. I've only just gotten back to my proper computer mere minutes ago. Essentially, let it be known that data roaming is not equivalent to getting a foreign SIM, and I've had such barebones reception for the past two weeks that never mind researching and putting together posts, I couldn't even make an update post with my pathetic Premier Inn wi-fi. I'm really sorry about the radio silence.

I have accumulated a lot to write about, though. Among other things I took a fairly bizarre Luton - Gatwick flight, via Edinburgh, in order to enable myself to travel well over two hours to a certain decommissioned airfield. I've gotten my hands on a book, and I've also gotten my hands on an Airfix kit which is so old the box seems to suggest the Vickers Vanguard was one of the biggest draws in airliner models at the time. Also, I flew on an A320neo for the first time! Wow, those things are powerful. Blink and you miss the whole takeoff run.

I'll make another update vis-a-vis schedule as soon as I myself have a good idea of what the situation is going to be. I'm definitely going to take a couple of days to adjust to not living in a hotel anymore, plus getting used to typing on an actual keyboard again. I'll be posting throughout, replying to outstanding asks (I am so sorry) and getting the pictures I've taken all downloaded onto my computer. There are a couple things I saw that I thought were pretty neat!

When I do get back to proper posting, the next four subjects will be, in order: British Airways; British Airways; EasyJet; American Airlines. As for when those will go up, expect a better answer shortly. Coming a bit further in the future, I also have some material planned about the various liveries of a very, very special airplane.

#off-duty #transmissions #updates #runway runway travelogues

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mystery-salad · 5 months

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Good Timezones. Completely random question about Redwood. Do Redwood's children physically differ from pale tree sylvari and if yes in what way?

Good timezones Oz!

Redwood's children are different yes, all 3 of my trees have unique children! So for funsies I'll put all 3 here~ 3 for 1 bonus day in the ask box for a beloved mutual 💖

Just as Redwood (no pronouns just redwood or mother/father) is more animalistic in shape, Redwood's children are too. Redwood did not have any humans or major races to relate to, having grown deep within a forest in the far north before Jormag was vanquished and the land could be reclaimed by the norn. Instead the children take after the wildlife of the land, much more varied than the sylvari are. Some are quadrupedal, some have wings, all of them mix traits of various animals like chimeras. Not all are capable of human speech, but others have learned the languages of the forests and their inhabitants. Large fangs/beaks and claws, leaves that have morphed to function as fur or feathers, are all very much the norm. As the norn return they build a partnership of sorts, communicating verbally or through understanding and kinship with the animals around them. They also do not Dream, this tree was fortunate enough to land so far from Mordremoth's call that only a few children who wandered too far were pulled to the jungle. They can all access the root network of trees though, almost like a singular tree colony, to pass messages to Redwood or each other if the target is also near the same root network.

(My tag for Redwood, '#Redwood mother', also has info on redwood's avatar)

The other two I know I've talked less about significantly, but I've talked about the child of one a few times! Ty Lluan, my harpyvari, comes from a tree that drifted on the winds all the way to Dzalana, a land teeming with harpies. The Winding Tree's (he/him) branches as they grew were woven into a wondrous nest that grew to a thriving hub for both his own children and harpies seeking shelter during journeys as well. And naturally his children have all taken on traits of the harpies. Large wings with feather-like leaves covering their bodies, lightweight bark strengthening their limbs without grounding them, long claws to latch onto sheer surfaces or grip the ground for quick takeoffs and landings. They're naturally exploration, spreading far outside of Dzalana to meet others. While they're cautious, they're less so than most harpies and they build kinship quite easily with others. Humans look a little silly they find, being so fatherless and bearing no other advantageous physical traits. They find it amusing that the Pale Tree based her children on such people! They also were largely beyond Mordremoth's reach, but the harpyvaris do have their own dream-like network known as the sisterhood to connect them, along with bonding them to some harpy communities that live within the boughs of their father.

The third tree I have is the Deep Tree (any pronouns but defaults to it/its). This one did not go far at all, but as Mordremoth released the seeds it fell through the cracks deep into the Tangled Depths. Below even where explorers would follow in later years, where only chak wander and harvest the ley energy of the earth. This tree, with no sunlight and no promise of rain touching its leaves, thrived on the chak who wandered too close to the leyline vein it rested upon. It grew carnivorous, relying on flesh to thrive and therefore its children would need better advantages in turn than photosynthesis. The children of this tree are made so carefully and lovingly, each one hand-crafted by the tree from excess materials gathered from the chak and digested up through the tree. They have much more solid, fleshy innards that give all of them a rich, deep jewel-tone to their coloration, covered by a very tough armor-like bark that is slightly translucent to increase the visibility of their glow for their siblings. They lack complex eyes, living in near-darkness and can see basic colors and shapes and heat, but can not make out anything too complicated or details. They can control how visible their blood is by pumping it up to the surface under their bark to communicate with each other, chittering as well to be heard and communicate. Their mouths are complex enough that they can form other complex languages if taught, but there will always be a clicking, sharp accent to them. They're sweet children, the tree functions as a hive-mind channeling all of its children's conversations and experiences through itself to increase the knowledge of all. If one child unfortunately finds a dangerous place none should follow, they will all know soon after and mourn their fallen sibling. As Mordremoth awoke and the tree felt the shackles wrapping around its children, it fully shut down. Called all of its children home before it was too late and closed its boughs around them, pulling their minds back to the network safe and trapped until the threat passed once more.

The Deep Tree's children are so naturally curious and born diplomats, though many would find them different abs therefore scary at a glance on the surface. It takes a long time for them to make connections and become known to the greater world around them, but some of the more adventurous do make it far enough to meet their cousins eventually. The surface is so bright they're functionally blind up there.

#dasozelotvonnebenan #redwood mother #winding father #deep parent #they sound like genders all lined up like that lmao #what gender are you redwood femme winding masc or deep nonbinary #gw2 #guild wars 2

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projectspqs · 1 year

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#Construction Material-Estimation #home construction #home management #Quantity Takeoff and Quantity Surveyors

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Running from the Flames {17}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, panic attack - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || under construction

Ilies was kind enough to take Pierre, Addie and I to the airport early on Monday morning. Pierre had put his Audi on one of the car transporters heading to Alpine’s mechanical headquarters in Paris and he would pick it up from there later in the week when he returned for some training. With the next race being in Canada there was a two week break so he was going to spend a few days in London with us as long as he kept up his fitness routine.

I was apparently the one in charge of making sure that happened but his personal trainer might have been shocked to hear that my idea of exercise involved us tangled in bedsheets. I kept that to myself of course and just agreed. As long as I got to watch while Pierre worked out in my home gym then it was a win-win to me.

“Thanks for the lift, Granny,” I said as I kissed her cheeks after boarding the private jet.

“It’s on the way to New York so it’s no hassle, honey. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Fashion Week with me?”

I grimaced at the idea. “And have you try to use me as a model again, no thanks.”

“What?” she asked innocently as she buckled up into her seat. “You’ve got the legs for it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Pierre whispered in my ear. “They are very sexy.”

I elbowed him lightly but he just laughed it off and I continued on my way down the aisle. Two rows down I found dad, who was half asleep, and heading home to see mum. I sat Addie into the seat beside him and buckled her in before setting up her latest animated fixation, Mulan, on the screen in front of her.

“Let mummy know if you need to go to the loo,” I reminded her before pulling the earphones over her head.

There was no reason to be all sat together so I passed the last two rows before sitting down. There was only the galley behind us but since the flight was a little over two hours I doubted anyone would ask for refreshments and we would be left alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked as we hit some turbulence coming into Heathrow and Pierre clutched the armrest between us. His eyes were closed and his lips pressed in a firm line as he nodded his head. He had been uneasy since takeoff but repeatedly lied and said he was fine. “You couldn’t have picked a sport with more travel if you tried.”

“I’m fine with flying…until it gets bumpy.” He let me pull his hand from the leather material and replaced it with my own as we watched the GPS of the plane inching closer to the airport.

“Miss Vowles, Mr Gasly, if you could please fill these out before we land that would be wonderful,” the stewardess said as she handed me three Passenger Locator Forms before moving on to dad.

I filled out mine and Addie’s while Pierre did his but he took a little longer since he wasn’t a UK Citizen like us and had more pages to complete. I actually had dual citizenship through the ‘grandfather scheme’ which meant I was entitled to apply for citizenship where my parents and grandparents were citizens. Legally, I could hold a passport of Mexico, the USA and the United Kingdom but I preferred to use my UK one since it had the least restrictions.

If Erik ever tried to petition for access to Addie and won, then she could have all three passports and a Norwegian one too.

The thought turned my mood sour and as we touched down on British soil I began to rue my decision to come back. I knew I needed to be here to pack up the house for the move and visit Dr Pascoe in person but there was always a little storm cloud in the back of my mind when I was in London.

The city was tainted of memories with Erik, the restaurants we had eaten at, the cinemas we have gone to. I couldn’t even drive near Islington because that was where our house had been. Just thinking about it had the walls of the plane closing in around me and I reached for the paper bag in the storage pocket.

The paper crinkled in and out with each breath, the speed too fast for any rational thought and shadows moved around me until two faces came into focus.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” dad said but it was hard to catch the slippery words as my head swam. “Deep breath, in through your nose. Do it with me.” I tried to copy him but my intake was as shaky as my hands. “Good girl, now out through your mouth, nice and slow.”

My clothes felt too tight and my hair clung to my clammy forehead and I tried to brush it away but my hands were shaking too much. The strands of hair remained and I grew frustrated.

“I’ve got it, Bri, just focus on breathing,” Pierre said as he brushed it back for me. A cool damp cloth came to rest on my forehead and I closed my eyes as I leant back in the seat. “Mama’s alright, princesse.”

My eyes flashed open to see Addie looking afraid and I opened my arms for her. “Mummy was just a little overwhelmed, sweetie, I’m sorry it scared you.”

“Was it a bad dream again?” she asked as she clung tight to me.

“Kind of. You know, I could do with your help.” She perked up at the idea of helping and listened intently. “We have no food at home, so I need you to choose where we will have brunch. You don’t have to tell me now, but why don’t you hop back in your seat and have a think about it while we land.”

“Come on, little bug,” dad guided her away, his own worried stare looking back at me as he went.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre asked when we were alone but I shook my head.

“No, I just want to erase the memories of this place.” I tipped my head onto his shoulder and looked up at him. “Tell me that it’s possible.”

He kissed my forehead and I cringed as I realised I was a sweaty mess but he didn’t seem to care as he wrapped an arm around me. “I don’t know about erasing them, but we can make new ones instead.”

–

We landed without a fuss and while we were taxiing to the terminal we started to say our goodbyes before we would part ways. Dad was already out of his seat, ignoring the seatbelt sign, and kneeling next to Granny having quiet words with each other before they both looked at me with concern.

Dad rose to his feet and let Addie climb up for a hug, a bright smile deepening the wrinkles at the corners of Granny’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, honey. You let me know if you want to come visit alright? We’ll get rid of that posh accent in no time.”

“Don’t want you to go, Granny,” she replied with a trembling lip.

Betty sniffled and blinked away the tears that quickly built along her waterline. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

“You’d still look beautiful,” I said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the visit and the ride.”

“Of course, you’re welcome to use it whenever you need, especially trying to juggle work, motherhood and a long distance relationship,” she said looking between Pierre and I. “Take all the help you can get to make it work.”

Pierre’s hand took mine and gave it a squeeze while I answered through my widening smile. “I might take you up on that.”

The Gulfstream had come to a stop and I saw two cars parked outside the little window as the stewardess opened the door. Dad would take one to the domestic terminal for his next flight to Manchester while we would be in the other heading home to Twickenham.

“Oh, and Damien, give my love to Otmar when you see him,” Granny said with a fond smile for the man she thought of as the second child she never had. “I’ll see you in Italy, unless I decide to pop by before that. Never know when I might need a holiday at my age.”

“Mom, you’re retired.”

She scoffed and waved him off. “I retired from designing but I still own the company, dear. I can’t trust anyone else to run it right, unless it’s family.” Her eyes darted to me and I held my hands up.

“Don’t finish that thought, Granny, I’m an engineer - I like tinkering with mechanics and engines.”

“I’ve heard Pierre’s a man of fashion and business or so the internet tells me. You could always marry him. Just an idea, honey.” She sent me a wink and I stumbled over my feet, nearly sending myself out down the steps. “Take care of my precious babies, Mr Gasly.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” he replied with such sincerity that I missed the step in front of me and his hand shot out, catching my arm and pulling me back. “Was that a test?”

“No,” I sighed and blew a strand of hair out of my face with a huff. “That's just how clumsy I am. Let’s go before I break my neck and never get to walk down the aisle Granny’s busy daydreaming about now.”

“I’ve had the design of your wedding dress waiting since you were 18. You tell me when to start sewing it.”

“Bye Granny, bye Matthew!” I concentrated on walking down the stairs with an amused Pierre behind me carrying Addie and dad coming down last.

“Your mother said she’s blocked out her calendar for Wednesday if you can come to dinner.”

I looked at Pierre since he was meant to be flying to Paris on Thursday morning and Addie and I would be flying into Rouen to meet him on Saturday. “It’s a four hour drive.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to change my flight to leave from Manchester instead, if you want to stay the night?”

I nodded to dad, “it’s a tentative yes but I’ll let you know once he’s checked the flights. Addie say bye-byes to grandad.”

Our farewells were far quicker and our luggage had already been put into the cars by the time we were finished and going our own separate ways. I would have preferred to have my own car but it was at home after getting a cab to the airport when we left two weeks ago but thankfully it wasn’t peak rush hour and it wasn’t too far to get home.

“Addie, have you decided where you want to eat?”

“The dog park!”

Pierre looked aghast as he spun in his passenger seat at the front and I laughed at the face he pulled. “It’s just a cafe that happens to be on the same block as a dog park. It’s called Ivy and she knows it too,” I said as I tickled Addie’s toes for being a little trickster. “It’s just around the corner from our house so we can drop the bags off first and walk.”

He relaxed back into his seat knowing he wasn’t going to be eating in a dog park and I scoured the inside pockets of my handbag until I found my keys. I gripped the remote to the front gate as the driver pulled onto our street and suddenly had a new fear - had I tidied the house before we left? No. The answer was, no. I had been running around like a madwoman trying to get Addie ready so I decided the toys on the floor and unfolded washing on the couch could wait for my return.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and Pierre’s eyes shot to me through the little mirror on his sun visor, his eyebrow cocked in a silent question. “My house is a fucking mess.”

Click here for chapter eighteen.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @anotheroneiforgot

#pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x oc #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #running from the flames

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 months

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i know the end

a/n: i wrote this months ago while i had covid and then forgot about it and rediscovered recently. if it sucks blame covid brain. also, this piece is told backwards which was an interesting style to write in! anyways, no one will probably read this, but whatever

like father, like father daughter

summary: Rebel's breaking point.

warnings: angst, breakdowns, series of events is told backwards, swearing probably, unedited

word count: 1.6k

“No, I’m not afraid to disappear/the billboard said ‘the end is near’”

You thank the flight attendant as you show her your ticket, before picking up your duffel bag to walk down the boarding bridge. Forcing a smile at the other flight attendant waiting aboard, your eyes scan the small plane, searching for your seat. The plane fills with noise behind you as you get your bag shoved in one of the carry-on cubbies before sliding down into your seat.

The holiday cheer can be felt all around you even as you’re quick to slip in your headphones. The cheer could be felt in every corner in the hustle and bustle of every packed airport you’d stepped foot in since your travel began three days ago in Illinois, to Penscaola, to Paris. Soon you’d feel that cheer in just four short hours when your plane landed in Germany.

You’re sure you’ll feel it when you get to your new base tonight, the excitement of friends and family traveling the world to see their loved ones at the holidays.

The ache in your chest had gotten worse the farther you had gotten from yours just 12 hours ago now, time zones abiding.

You look out the window, the rainy weather smearing the glowing lights of the city.

You think about what it would be like to be flying home to San Diego right now, taking a flight from Paris to Florida to San Diego.

You think of what it would be like to go to the beach at night like you used to when this ache in your chest appeared, go for a night swim, feel the cold salt water against your skin, the burn in your eyes. You smile to yourself, as the Captain makes his announcements as you close your eyes, preparing for takeoff.

The memories of Christmases long since passed, when you had your best friend and flyboy uncles and your Dad and a mother figure. When Christmas was full of warmth and light, bringing everyone together for maybe one time the whole year.

You think of what it would be like to sleep in your own room, the warm covers comfortable against your body. Not like the itchy standard-issue blanket you’ll be sleeping under tonight at your new base. No, the good material, with soft sheets and the comfort and knowledge of being in your own home. Of being in a place that belonged to you.

Maybe in this fantasy, your Dad was there.

Or maybe not.

Maybe you could go for all the late night swims and sleep as late as you wanted under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree in your room without the presence of the flyboys or your Dad or your Uncle Ice.

No one to be mad at you for what you gave up to have a normal holiday, to sleep in a warm bed, to sleep under stars and skies that felt like home. No one to chide you for staying out all night, wind whipping in your wet hair as you drive through downtown with the windows down and come home at three in the morning. No one to tease you for sleeping till noon and ask how the Navy-ingrained habits disappeared so quickly.

Your skin itched for that peace, for that belonging, that quiet and comfort. The quiet you existed in now was the loudest quiet you had ever heard, screaming as it begged you for something more.

The Pensacola night air is warm and humid as you step out of Slider's truck, your uncle grabbing your duffel from the back as you walk up the door.

Ice is already waiting for you, having rearranged everything to fly over to Pensacola to meet you in your overnight layover.

He gives you a soft smile even as you lack the energy to give him one in return, pulling you into a tight, firm hug.

“I’m so sorry kiddo. I’m so sorry, I did everything I could.” He whispers into your hair. You shake your head, pulling away from him.

“I just want to eat.”

He sighs as you push the creaky screen door of Slider’s home open, walking through the living room where Friends is flickering in the background, the volume low as you settle in the kitchen.

You didn’t even have a full night in Pensacola, your flight for Paris leaving at seven in the morning. You’d have time for a quick meal and a few hours of sleep if you were lucky, before Slider would be back delivering you to the airport.

Slider sets a plate in front of you, a steaming dish of your favorite casserole from when you were little. It was Carole’s recipe, something she always made for you when your Dad left town.

“Thanks.”

It’s quiet for a while as you slowly eat, attempting to force yourself to enjoy what would be your last home cooked meal for who knows how long. You feel unable to fight off the quiet numb crawling up your spine, the meal just tasting cold and bland.

“So you must be glad to at least get out of the corn fields, huh?”

You don’t say anything in response to Slider’s joke, chewing softly on your food.

“Well, you know- I did hear something about you having a thing with one of those pilots from your squadron.” You force yourself to swallow around an ill-timed bite as Slider starts again. “The two of you going to write to each other while you’re away?”

You set your fork down, standing up from the table. “I’m full. Thanks for dinner, Sli.”

“Kid-” Ice says, but you’re already slipping up the steps leading to the guest room.

Comet’s fingers are running through your hair as you stare up at the ceiling. Out of your periphery, you can see the glint of his dog tags in the moonlight.

“Do you ever think you’re disappointing your parents?”

The words are quiet and soft as his fingers keep moving even as he hums, acknowledging your question.

The weight of your new orders sit heavy, and so had the boarding pass in the envelope you’d gotten this evening.

His fingers feel heavy in your hair, the weight of your words crushing you.

“I don’t know how I could.”

And for Comet, whose real name was James, that was probably true. Growing up as the oldest of six in a low-class family in a small, rural Mississippi town, joining the Navy and becoming a decorated pilot was probably more than his parents had ever dreamed possible for him.

“They wouldn’t be disappointed if you decided to leave this all behind?”

James, who had a mother and father who loved him.

James, who had three sisters and two little brothers who all looked up to him, marveled at him no matter what he did.

James, who was happy and content, and was everything your family would want for you if you could force yourself to be content with it.

James, who had no idea of your past, of your reputation. Of who you had once been.

James, who had no idea it hurt every time the two of you had sex in ways you could never bring yourself to say aloud to him.

James, who had never once forced you to label what the two of you were, even after the two of you had said those three words.

James, who had been talking and was now looking at you in concern as he shifted himself up, pushing some of your hair away from your face.

“-where did you go?”

“We need to end this.”

Comet freezes, before anger flashes across his face, pushing himself off of what would no longer be your base bed come sunrise as he grabs his shirt from the floor.

“How fucking dare you.” He spits, tugging the baby blue material over his head. “I mean- really, after all this, after this whole time you led me to believe this might actually mean something to you.”

“Comet-”

“I’m not a fucking moron, you know.” He says, grabbing his pants off the floor, belt clanging as he does. “I know what they say about you. I know you live your life in fucking la la land, that you’ve been shutting me off since the first time we ever slept together-”

“That’s because that’s all this was.” You insist, pushing yourself up to be propped up on one arm.

“I said I love you-”

“And you meant it?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Comet’s nostrils flare. “You’re a fucking bitch.”

You slump back down on the bed as Comet storms out, slamming the door behind him. You wince, wondering if someone on base is going to see him leaving, hear the brief exchange that had just occurred, but at this point-

It doesn’t really matter.

What more could they do to punish you?

The cool December air of Illinois stings, the wind raging as you clutch your phone, pressing it to your ear.

“Kid- do?”

The call cuts in the middle of the word, delaying the sound of your Dad’s voice.

In hindsight, it should've been a clear indicator that he’ll never hear what you have to say next.

“Dad.” You cry. “Dad, I got new orders- they’re sending me to fucking Germany. Six days before Christmas.”

You can hear your Dad try to say something, but it’s garbled and distant, nothing but static sounds.

The tears stinging your eyes suddenly become unbearable as you all but collapse on a nearby bench.

“I lied, Dad. I don’t- I don’t want to keep doing this. I’m not happy anymore. I haven’t been happy in so long. I feel fucking miserable, Dad. I want out. I want to run away and never come back. I’m so sorry, I know that I must be the biggest disappointment-” You hiccup, eyes stinging. “Please. I don’t want to do this.”

The phone beeps as the call drops.

Your stomach sinks, horror coursing through you, as the black screen stares back up at you.

#like father like daughter #same mistakes #pete mitchell #tom kazansky #ron kerner #this one is just for me #top gun

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usafphantom2 · 2 months

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SR-71 on Ramp with Flight Crew

Looking more like astronauts than aircraft pilots, members of a fully-suited NASA research flight crew is seen here alongside an SR-71 aircraft. Two SR-71A's were initially loaned to NASA from the Air Force for high-speed, high-altitude aeronautical research. The SR-71As plus an SR- 71B pilot trainer aircraft were based at NASA's Ames-Dryden Flight Research Facility (later, Dryden Flight Research Center), Edwards, California during the decade of the 1990s. Two SR-71 aircraft have been used by NASA as testbeds for high-speed and high-altitude aeronautical research. The aircraft, an SR-71A and an SR-71B pilot trainer aircraft, have been based here at NASA's Dryden Flight Research Center, Edwards, California. They were transferred to NASA after the U.S. Air Force program was cancelled. As research platforms, the aircraft can cruise at Mach 3 for more than one hour. For thermal experiments, this can produce heat soak temperatures of over 600 degrees Fahrenheit (F). This operating environment makes these aircraft excellent platforms to carry out research and experiments in a variety of areas -- aerodynamics, propulsion, structures, thermal protection materials, high-speed and high-temperature instrumentation, atmospheric studies, and sonic boom characterization. The SR-71 was used in a program to study ways of reducing sonic booms or over pressures that are heard on the ground, much like sharp thunderclaps, when an aircraft exceeds the speed of sound. Data from this Sonic Boom Mitigation Study could eventually lead to aircraft designs that would reduce the "peak" overpressures of sonic booms and minimize the startling affect they produce on the ground. One of the first major experiments to be flown in the NASA SR-71 program was a laser air data collection system. It used laser light instead of air pressure to produce airspeed and attitude reference data, such as angle of attack and sideslip, which are normally obtained with small tubes and vanes extending into the airstream. One of Dryden's SR-71s was used for the Linear Aerospike Rocket Engine, or LASRE Experiment. Another earlier project consisted of a series of flights using the SR-71 as a science camera platform for NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California. An upward-looking ultraviolet video camera placed in the SR-71's nosebay studied a variety of celestial objects in wavelengths that are blocked to ground-based astronomers. Earlier in its history, Dryden had a decade of past experience at sustained speeds above Mach 3. Two YF-12A aircraft and an SR-71 designated as a YF-12C were flown at the center between December 1969 and November 1979 in a joint NASA/USAF program to learn more about the capabilities and limitations of high-speed, high-altitude flight. The YF-12As were prototypes of a planned interceptor aircraft based on a design that later evolved into the SR-71 reconnaissance aircraft. Dave Lux was the NASA SR-71 project manger for much of the decade of the 1990s, followed by Steve Schmidt. Developed for the USAF as reconnaissance aircraft more than 30 years ago, SR-71s are still the world's fastest and highest-flying production aircraft. The aircraft can fly at speeds of more than 2,200 miles per hour (Mach 3+, or more than three times the speed of sound) and at altitudes of over 85,000 feet. The Lockheed Skunk Works (now Lockheed Martin) built the original SR-71 aircraft. Each aircraft is 107.4 feet long, has a wingspan of 55.6 feet, and is 18.5 feet high (from the ground to the top of the rudders, when parked). Gross takeoff weight is about 140,000 pounds, including a possible fuel weight of 80,280 pounds. The airframes are built almost entirely of titanium and titanium alloys to withstand heat generated by sustained Mach 3 flight. Aerodynamic control surfaces consist of all-moving vertical tail surfaces, ailerons on the outer wings, and elevators on the trailing edges between the engine exhaust nozzles. The two SR-71s at Dryden have been assigned the following NASA tail numbers: NASA 844 (A model), military serial 61-7980 and NASA 831 (B model)

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