Tumgik
#michael x whitney
historytheone · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
76 notes · View notes
aaliyahunleashed · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Give the greats their flowers
Art from Jay Sims via Facebook.
301 notes · View notes
Text
Rewatching SMALLVILLE and realizing I want Clark and Lex to Eiffel tower me
Rewatching SMALLVILLE and realizing I want Lana to sit on my face
Rewatching SMALLVILLE and realizing Jason Teague is hot, even if he is evil
Rewatching SMALLVILLE and realizing Lionel Luthor is definitely part of my daddy issues (he's still a major dick tho)
Rewatching SMALLVILLE and not hating Whitney actually kind of crushing on him
51 notes · View notes
blerdsunited · 2 months
Text
Graphic Design by J. Slayer. CC: David Young Jr. via Facebook.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
19 notes · View notes
mahoganygold213 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Give Them Flower” Graphic Design by J.Sayer
14 notes · View notes
aiyanayanas · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Graphic Design by J. Slayer
#blackhistory365
11 notes · View notes
thechanelmuse · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Michael was always messing with Jermaine 😂. Watch this.
This is Part 9. For more trivia: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 10, Bonus
Let’s round this out to 10 🙃. I’ll post one more later. 
200 notes · View notes
Text
5 notes · View notes
dropoutdottv · 8 months
Video
Lift your glasses, we've got a new season of Dirty Laundry premiering on Dropout on September 12th! With host Lily Du, bartender Grant O'Brien, and a few secret-sharing friends: Vanessa Guerrero, Persephone Valentine, Desmond Chiam, Sam Riegel, Liam O'Brien, Anjali Bhimani, Matthew Mercer, Kassem G, Whitney Moore, Mica Burton, Johnny Stanton, Jess Ross, Hector Navarro, Ally Beardsley, Erika Ishii, Anthony Burch, Beth May, Will Campos, Fiona Nova, Shakira Ja'nai Paye, Brett Maline, Jacquis Neal, Alice Stanley, Kimia Behpoornia, Lisa Gilroy, Eli Gonzalez, Claudio Saavedra, Anna Salinas, Heather Higginbotham, Dylan Adler, Michael Henry, Zac Oyama, Kendahl Landreth, Sarah Schauer, Gina Darling, Paul F. Tompkins, Patrick McDonald, Aabria Iyengar, Katie Marovitch, Oscar Montoya, David Kerns, Ebony Elaine Hardin, Chloe Badner, Kyle Rohrbach, Alaska Thunderfuck, Monét X Change, Jujubee, and Katya!
380 notes · View notes
word-wytch · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 8
Eddie x Teacher!Reader
Chapter 8/? 5.5k. Series Masterlist
✏︎ Eddie goes to a Halloween party on business while you have a different sort of celebration. 
✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.
While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.
✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)
Chapter warnings: heavy grief, heavy angst, depictions of depression, sibling death mention, drunk driving accident mention, drugs, alcohol, bullying
Tumblr media
Saturday, October 26th 1985
There was a shadow on your heart.
It was there from the moment you woke up. A fog that made you not want to leave your bed. Not want to do anything at all. 
You didn’t, not for a long while until your bladder forced you to. And when you did, you would move from room to room in a daze. Eyes unfocused, hair and teeth unbrushed. You would search for your motivation all day, what there was left of the day anyway.
You hoped that you would find it. Somewhere in the pile of dirty dishes or in the half eaten microwaved breakfast burrito that you could barely stomach, still sitting on your table getting stale and dry — waiting for you to come back. The quiet, hopeful part of you thought that maybe you would.
Maybe it was somewhere in the pile of papers you still had yet to grade, or in the laundry you still had yet to fold. Maybe if you sat in front of the TV long enough the right song would find you on MTV and you would feel something else besides numbness and self-loathing.
David Bowie couldn’t do it. Neither could Whitney Houston. Michael Jackson tried too, over and over. You were tempted to reach for the remote if you heard “Thriller” one more time.
You wanted to murder the sky. Grey and indifferent, the pale, cold light only amplifying the heaviness inside you. Was it mocking you? Casting down drizzle, unable to expend enough for rain?  
You knew what day it was. You figured after 17 years it would be just another one, but feared for the same all at once. 
Numb as you felt, your head was anything but empty. There was all sorts of noise in there. It was loudest when the commercials came on. There was one in particular — an ad for Pumpkintown, a local attraction at one of the many farms that surrounded Hawkins. Every half hour you would hear little voices sing the familiar jingle, see their bright puffy coats as they ran through corn mazes, see their little, uncoordinated hands painting pumpkins and eating kettle corn.
Grief, as you would come to know it, was loudest in the great what if. In the wondering what might have been if things had turned out differently. Would you have nieces or nephews? Would you be on your way to Pumpkintown with them instead of sitting alone on your couch wanting to cry? You would never know.
The phone rang. It cut through the air, shrill and intrusive. You sat there for a few rings, contemplating letting it go but you were afraid the noise would just return moments later. That it wouldn’t leave you alone. 
You peeled yourself off of the couch and slugged into the kitchen. The breath you took before picking the phone up off the receiver was ragged. 
“Hello?” you answered, your first word all day.
“Hi dear, it’s mom.”
“Hey mom.” You wondered if she could hear the difference between a feigned smile and a real one. 
She wasn’t really listening though. Not that there was much to listen to in the weak “Oh yeah?”s  and the handful of “That’s nice”s you had to offer. She would talk about her book club and the drama she overheard from a friend of hers. She would talk about canning vegetables and the pumpkin pie she made the other day, how you really ought to come over and have some before it’s all gone.
“Anyway, thought I would just catch up with you,” she said finally. “How are you?”
The question surprised you. You wondered for a moment if you should answer honestly. 
“Oh, you know,” you said with a sigh, twisting the cord around your finger. “Just thinking about Mickey.” 
It was a name that was rarely said anymore. It was met with silence, rare for her. 
“Yes, it is that day,” she said finally. 
You knew she couldn’t have forgotten. You wondered about the noise in her head too, if gossiping and canning vegetables helped quiet the great what if. She hardly ever spoke about it since it happened. That always bothered you.
“I miss him,” you said weakly.
Her sigh filled another pause. “I do too.”
______
Eddie flicked his lighter and ignited the end of his cigarette. He leaned up against his van in Gareth’s driveway and took a long drag, looking around the neighborhood at the carefully groomed lawns. The wet, fallen leaves brought down by the wind the only thing that littered the pristine sidewalk. 
He exhaled the smoke into the damp night air, watching as it wafted across the driveway, up toward the glowing street lamps. 
The garage door startled him when it opened. 
Gareth hobbled out, lugging an amp. “Hey man, sorry it took me so long. Jeff left this here for you, he got his fixed so he doesn’t need it anymore.”
Eddie tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette and slid open the side door of the van. “Thanks, uh, you can just slide it in behind the back seat.” 
Gareth waddled over and set the amp down with a heavy thud as Eddie opened the driver’s side door and crawled in. He took another drag of his cigarette as Gareth fussed with the amp, sliding it back in the cabin behind the long bench.
The movement paused for a moment. “Dude what’s up with all the napkins back here?”
Eddie whipped his head around. “Don’t touch those.”
Gareth looked at him — wary and wide-eyed as he slowly exited the side of the van, coming around to take the passenger’s seat like he was afraid to even ask.
Eddie held the cigarette between his lips as he dug through the pile of tapes in the center console. “Bingo,” he said, popping Motörhead’s Overkill into the tape player and slamming it shut. He flicked his wrist and the Chevy Nomad roared to life.
Eddie banged his head as Gareth air drummed the solo to the opening track. He cranked the shift stick and hit the gas to back out. They took off, cruising down the dark suburban street with a roar and a rumble. 
“I just stopped at Rick’s right before you so we’re gonna have to roll as we go,” Eddie shouted over the music, tapping his hands against the steering wheel to the beat.
“Sounds good man,” Gareth shouted back, hammering at the dashboard with his hands.
By the time they arrived, the party was already raging. People still arriving in droves, parked cars piling up in the woods and down the long street outside of Tina’s house. Typically Eddie liked to arrive fashionably late, but after he and Gareth had to wade through a sea of bodies just to find Tina, he was having regrets about that. The thing was, Eddie needed a place to be for his operation. A table and a place to sit and roll was not only preferable, but rather necessary considering the party size.
Thankfully she wasn’t wearing a wig or a mask or they might have never found her on the back porch. Instead her mousey brown hair was styled in a 60s bob and tied back in a headband, completing her go-go girl look.
She led them into the packed living room.
“Move, dealer needs the table,” she shouted over the music, nudging the guy in the toga parked on the loveseat with her white go-go boot.
Her demand was met with looks of annoyance, but Tina just stood there with her arms crossed until they resigned, leaving only wet rings behind on the glass coffee table.
“All yours, boys.”
Would people know where to find him? Should he put up a sign? He supposed the best he could do was Tina’s word of mouth and their ongoing operation for everyone to see in the middle of the living room.
It turns out that was all he needed. They would sell for $5 a pop. And probably quicker if Gareth wasn’t so shitty at rolling.
“Woah, woah, man that’s like way too much. Here—” He took the overflowing paper out of Gareth’s hands and demonstrated. “You gotta use the filter as a guide, and start with like half as much dude.” Eddie rolled it in his fingers until it evened out, then he tucked the paper behind the filter licked along the edge to seal it, twisting the end in a final flourish. “See? Like that.” 
 Gareth snorted and took a swig of beer. “Ok Edward, master of the roll.” 
Eddie gave him a look, doing a piss poor job at hiding his smirk. “I mean the point is to make money, man. If you roll them too fat it not only looks terrible but we’re just giving away weed.”
Gareth sighed and looked at him over the can at his lips. “Got it, sensei.”
“Good ‘cause we’re selling fast.” Eddie loaded up the grinder, feeling the grit of the resin as he twisted it in his hands. 
His mind wandered, as it always did, to you. He thought about you at a Halloween party. Wondered what sort of costume you would have. Probably something smart like Nancy Drew, or geekishly obscure like Jane Eyre, or maybe you would go the fantasy route and be Arwen, elf ears and all.
He wondered how you would be at a party. Pensively sipping your drink, making keen observations about the partygoers. Maybe you’d have fun too, after a few more. After a song you liked came on and he dragged you out of the corner to dance like fools. 
He wished that you could be here. Well, maybe not here watching him sell weed but maybe in another timeline. In the absence of the wall that was built between you long before either of you had any say in it. 
Eddie tapped the contents of the grinder out onto his rolling tray and got to work.
There were so many people that had come by his table that they were all starting to blend together. How many devils, ghosts, and cowboys would he see before the night was over? It was yet to be determined and the night was very young.
What was hard to miss was the gang of jocks in leather jackets and white t-shirts, hair slicked back like greasers. There were at least five of them, and they all came in at once together like some wannabe boy band, lead by none other than Jason Carver.
It was also hard to miss the angel standing next to him. Literally. Chrissy Cunningham in huge feather wings, a tight white dress, and a sparkling gold halo.
He was certain that his gaze would be lost in the sea of people. He hoped that it would be. Hoped that they would walk right past and never even see him. 
But Chrissy did. By some split second miracle, some sixth sense.
Her eyes found his from across the room. She smiled at him, bright and blinding.
______
The darkness in the room alarmed you when you opened your eyes, struggled to rather. Bleary and squinting against the white light from the television, you rubbed the sleep from them. 
You sat up on the couch and wiped the drool off your face, wondering what time it was. The clock on your wall said something like 8:30, but it was hard to tell and your eyes were still adjusting.
Your stomach growled and you thought about the breakfast burrito still sitting on your kitchen table. It was still the last thing you had eaten. You ran your tongue across your teeth, scummy and in need of brushing. The pile of laundry was still there too, sitting crumpled in a basket next to you. The papers still sitting in a pile on your coffee table, untouched.
“Thriller” was playing. Again. Your hand itched for the remote but it was buried somewhere in the couch so instead you just sat there. You sat there and watched like you had done half a dozen times already today. You watched as Michael Jackson danced around like a werewolf in his red suit, unable to peel your eyes from the screen.
You watched him and thought about Eddie Munson at a party. 
Thought about him in a darkened basement, the air thick with smoke and sound. Crowded with people like him who wanted to get away, muffled music coming through ceiling from upstairs. He would be there, strewn across a couch or leaning against a wall. Cigarette in one hand, beer in another. He would bring the bottle to his lips and look at you with those dark eyes. Lids heavy as the buzz washed over him, relaxing deeper into the space he occupied. He would drape his arm across the back of the couch, beckoning you to sit closer.
It was easy to imagine. How easy it would be to slide up next to him. To lean in a little too close. To feel the heat from his body as he talked about music, his bright voice filling the space between you, what little there was. To catch the scent of his clothing, of his skin as he leaned closer to talk over the noise, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. 
How easy it would be to turn your head and catch those lips in yours. Soft, plush, and needy. You imagined how his tongue would feel as it coaxed against yours. Smoke acrid, the taste of beer still lingering on it. 
It was easy to imagine those strong hands of his, how they would feel gripping your thigh or your hip as he pulled you closer. Those tendons and bones you recalled so vividly when he’d graced you with the chance to touch him. You could imagine how they would feel other places.
It was easy to imagine that just about any girl would see him and want the same thing.
And who would he be to say no? To some girl dressed as a cat or a rabbit barely wearing any clothes, looking at him like she wanted to take a bite. 
Your stomach lurched.
It would be easy. Easy for them to find a quiet place to take things further.
You imagined, for a moment, what it would be like to be her. To be in that darkened basement, amidst the laughing and shouting and chaos of others around you too wrapped up in their own world to notice how his hands are wandering. How his lips are wandering too. Dizzying as they track across your jaw, down your neck. How his tongue lathes at the skin there, the buzz from the drink in his other hand only amplifying the need you can feel in his teeth. 
He would look at you with those dark, lust-blown eyes and you would know exactly what he wants. He would mutter in your ear and let his palm slip from around your waist only to take your hand. To lead you out of the darkened basement to a bedroom, or out to his van. 
You imagined those strong shoulders of his. How they felt under his t-shirt and how they would feel without it. If he would even bother to remove it or if his need would render that too inconvenient.
It wouldn’t be that hard — to find a spot to sit in the back of his van. Dark and quiet save for the deep bass and muffled voices from the party raging on in the distance. To lose what little clothing you had on and crawl atop his lap. To wrap your arms around those solid shoulders as his curious fingers explored you below. 
How could he help himself? When you’re right there, wanting him so evidently. When it’s something he can feel with his fingers and taste on his tongue when those fingers leave your heat. Who would he be to stop himself from giving you what you want? 
And his voice. Would his voice still be as bright as he sunk himself into you or would it be colored differently — shaded with hoarseness as his heavy sighs filled the space between you? How would it color the thick night air as the pressure mounted inside of him? Would he use his words? Would he be able to when the pressure was too much? What new colors would there be then? 
It was easy to imagine. 
So easy that it made you sick. 
It sat in the pit of your stomach and gnawed at any fleeting hunger you might have had when you woke up. Like a tapeworm.
It whispered things to you. That he would be better off with a girl his own age anyway. That you were a short-lived fascination in his fast life. That he would grow tired of you too. Things that sounded truer the longer you sat with them in the darkness of your living room.
There was shame too. Shame for even letting yourself get to this point. For feeling this way about your student of all people. For having hope to begin with. After all, he had done so many things to give it to you.
You thought about all the parties you never went to. All the darkened basements you were never led away from. All the colors that you never got to hear, and taste, and touch in sacrifice for good behavior. 
It was an experience that you would give anything to have. 
You thought about Eddie Munson and his boyish smile. The way his hand felt when it took yours. The kindness in his eyes. The shame you saw in them too.
You thought about him coming home from the party. Cruising down a dark, winding road in his van, taking the curves and bends with a reckless abandon, fueled by the music pounding in his speakers and the vices in his veins. You thought about his wild hair catching the wind from the window he lowered to taste the rush of being alive.  
You thought about him taking one of those bends too tightly. How top-heavy vans could be. How slick the roads were. How easy it would be not to notice someone else coming around the corner.
And just like that you were in your pyjamas again, barefoot on the carpet of your childhood living room. Your heart pounding into your throat as you watched your parents from behind at the front door. The flashing of red, white, and blue from outside the big front window the only light in the darkness. It streaked across your family photos and painted the paneled walls. 
You wondered what they would say about him. What all the other teachers would say when he didn’t show up to school on Monday. What the whole town would say when their papers and televisions told them he would never show up to school again.
Would they change their tune or would it only make them sing it louder? That he was always trouble. That it was his own fault. That it was only a matter of time. That he had no future anyway. You could almost hear Ms. O’Donnell. Almost hear the half-hearted comments from the others about what a shame it was, the truth of their feelings masked with a weak display of sympathy for a day or two.
Would he amount to nothing more than a warning? A cautionary tale at school assemblies? An example of how not to be?  
Your hands gripped the couch, stomach churning. 
It was easy to imagine. As easy as it was to remember.
______
Eddie had never been to a house party that wasn’t obnoxious. Obnoxious was kind of the point.
He wasn’t sure if it was the shitty music, or the fact that people kept kicking the back of the loveseat he was stationed at, or the drunken caterwauling from the sexy inmate in the corner as she sloshed her drink all over the carpet. Maybe it was the kick drum that pounded in his chest and forced him to smell the beer on the breath of his buyers as they slurred their orders.
He brought his own can to his lips and took the last swig of the warm beer that remained in the bottom of it. His arms felt like jello. Even still, he wished that he was more numb than he was. His mouth was cotton dry and Gareth still had not returned with the drinks that he said he was going to get half an hour ago. He was well past the point of agitated. 
The whole room was packed shoulder to shoulder and smelled like cigarettes, beer, and sweat. He was cornered in it, but he couldn’t leave his goods sitting out without someone to watch them and he couldn’t leave either or he would forfeit his spot. Where was Gareth? He was going to strangle him. 
Eddie glanced around the packed room, his heart kicking up in a panic. Hindsight pierced his haze. He should have brought Jeff too, but he hated these kinds of house parties. Now that he was alone with a table full of drugs and a lunchbox full of money, he was starting to realize how dangerous that was.
That’s when he felt a dip in the seat next to him.
Chrissy Cunningham leaned back into the couch with a heavy sigh, crushing her feather wings behind her. Her gold garland halo sat crooked atop her head.
Eddie’s stomach dropped.
“Hey,” she said breathlessly, “Mind if I sit here? My feet are killing me.” She stretched her legs out, smooth and polished. The rhinestones on her stilettos caught the light as she kicked them off.
“Sure,” he said hesitantly, glancing around again. “You don’t think your boyfriend would mind?” He couldn’t hide the suspicion in his voice. 
Chrissy rolled her eyes and propped her plush cheek against her hand, her elbow resting on the back of the white leather couch. “He’s outside doing keg stands, I don’t think he even noticed I left.”
Eddie sat back a little in his seat, unconvinced. “I uh, brought a friend too but it seems like he ditched me.”
“Oh no,” she mumbled, scooting closer. “I can keep you company.”
He froze, noticing how dangerously close her red drink was to her white dress. The way her hand jerked as she struggled to keep it balanced. “You uh…you ok?”
“Yeah ‘m good, ‘m good,” she muttered, “Thanks for asking.”
Drunken hollering filled the silence between them as Eddie racked his brain over what to say next. The packed bodies in the dim living room swayed to Rockwell’s one hit wonder.
I always feel like
Somebody’s watching me
“Nice costume.” It was the best he could do.
“What are you dressed as?” she teased, playing with one of the pins on his vest. 
Eddie swallowed, glancing down at the pearl white nail polish on her delicate fingers as she twisted the pin. “Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer.” 
Chrissy batted her eyes at him. “Mm yeah, you are friendly,” she breathed, scooting even closer. She tucked her legs underneath her and rested her head against her arm on the back of the couch. 
He could feel the heat from her body. Smell the sugary drink on her breath as it ghosted over his face. He was close enough to notice the patches on her lips where the red had rubbed off onto the cup. Close enough to see how the redness in her eyes intensified the green irises under her hooded lids.
She was sitting so close that he failed to notice how many greasers were crowding around the table. In fact he didn’t until one of them said something.
“Hey,” Jason barked. He reached over the table to snatch one of the joints, his smile dripping with acid as he waved it in front of Eddie’s face. “How much to leave my fucking girlfriend alone?” 
Eddie felt his ghost leave his body.
“Jason—“ Chrissy balked.
“Get up.”
“I was just looking for a place to sit, these heels are—“
“I said get up,” Jason spat. 
Chrissy stumbled off the couch, pulling down the white, skin tight dress that had ridden up her thighs. She almost tripped over her shoes.
“Why do I keep catching you and my girlfriend together? Hm?” Jason rolled the joint around in his fingers. A few gelled strands of his slicked back hair had come as unhinged as he was.
Eddie rolled his eyes to mask his panic. “Calm down. She’s been sitting here for like two minutes. Jesus.”
“Yeah, yeah. You know,” he said, looking around, “There just aren’t any other seats in this whole goddamn house are there?” He laughed dryly. “Not a single one!”
Eddie’s eyes flashed to Chrissy. Would she say something? Did Jason know she invited him? Was it a secret?  
It was the panic in her eyes that told him. “Apparently not,” he said curtly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” He gestured to the joint in Jason’s hands. “That’ll be five dollars.”
“Oh I’m not finished with you, freak.”
“Jason—“
“Why don’t you go find a seat somewhere else, babe.” His words were a gentle venom.
“I’m fine,” Chrissy choked out.
“You know I’d really hate for those pretty feet of yours to get a blister,” he threatened. “Why don’t you go find Tina and have her get a chair for you, hm?”
Chrissy looked hesitant, eyes meeting Eddies for a split second before darting back over to Jason. Met with only daggers, she picked her heels up off the carpet and stormed off.
“Now then,” Jason said as he took her seat on the couch. The jocks in jackets crowded closer, closing off the table from the rest of the pulsing room. “Why don’t you tell me,” he started, grabbing Eddie’s lighter off the table to ignite the the joint in his fingers. “What makes you think you can talk to my girlfriend?”
Eddie seethed, his chest pounding, and not from the kick drum anymore. Where is the fuck is Gareth? 
“What makes you think you’re above paying for shit like everyone else?” He snapped back. “Your daddy teach you that?”
An audible ripple of shock emanated from the jocks in jackets.
“Wow look at that boys, he’s as funny as he is brilliant,” Jason retorted. “Let me ask you something else, freak.” He leaned in close enough for Eddie to smell the beer on his breath. “What the hell were you doing with our English teacher after school the other day?”
Eddie’s stomach dropped. “I—“ he steeled his face for the lie, “Jesus I just saw her in the hallway, man. We were both leaving, why the fuck does it matter?”
“See my buddy Donnie over here has a few questions for you too.” 
Eddie looked up. That’s when he recognized him. The athlete. The cigarette. 
“You a little hall monitor now, Munson? Huh?” Donnie uttered, earning jeers from the others.
“See I have a theory” Jason leaned even closer, blowing smoke in Eddie’s face. “That you’re turning into a teacher’s pet.” 
“Get the fuck out of my face,” Eddie spat. “You can keep the joint.”
“Ooh see that boys?” Jason laughed. “So defensive. You know what I think? I think the freak has a big fat crush.”
The crowd erupted, practically tripping over themselves now.
All Eddie could offer was dry laugh, shaking his head. His voice caught in his throat, face hot. Gripping the seat of the couch was all he could do to stop his hands from shaking. Where the fuck is Gareth?
“See look, he’s not denying it!” Jason announced to his cronies. The response was uproarious laughter. “You’re a real fuckin’ perv aren’t you?”
Eddie seethed. “You’re an entitled cocksucker in the way of my customers.” 
Then there was the commentary from the peanut gallery. Even over the music he could hear it.
“He can’t even get girls his own age,” Patrick muttered.
“Yeah he’s so old he’s going after the teachers now,” wheezed Donnie.  
Eddie felt the blood drain from his face. Felt a deep shame bubble up from the pit of his stomach. 
“You know what, I’m out. You can tell Tina who’s fault it was.” Eddie flipped open his black metal lunchbox with one hand and grabbed a handful of joints with the other, tossing them in unceremoniously.
“Woah woah who said we were finished?” Jason said through a crazed laugh. “You’re here to make deals right? Well I came here to make a deal too.”
Eddie offered him nothing more than a glance, packing away his grinder, his papers, his filters.
“Here’s the deal,” he said leaning in closer. “You stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, and I won’t make your life even more of a pathetic nightmare.” 
Eddie bit his lip. Better get her a collar then so she knows who she belongs to. 
It killed him not to say it. Physically hurt him not to. He wanted to spit it in his face but the lunchbox in front of him full of drugs and money kept his mouth buttoned. They could steal it all if they wanted. They could steal it all right now and get away with it too.
Jason grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forcing Eddie to face him. “Do we have a deal, freak? I know you’re good at deals.”
“Deal,” Eddie spat,“Now get your fucking hands off me,” he said with a shove.
Jason sat back in his seat, smoothing his hand through his hair. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it?” 
______
Eddie stormed through the house. He surged through the kitchen, the dining room, the basement. He pushed through the sweaty bodies packing the stairwell and banged on all the bedroom doors, only to open them to half naked couples yelling at him from the darkness. He had been at this for twenty minutes now and still no sign of Gareth.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to just leave him. He was about to.
But then he thought about you. He thought about your brother. About how wasted everyone at this party was and how Gareth would find his way home. Eddie had sobered up plenty.
He thought about the looks on all their faces when they mentioned you. A familiar shame twisted in his gut. He knew the serpent well. Felt its sting since he could remember. The sting that came from bringing an ugly self-made peanut butter sandwich to middle school and unwrapping it in front of kids who’s moms packed notes.
Today the sting came from clean cut jocks at a normal party dressed in normal costumes looking down at him and his table full of drugs and saying that his heart was ugly too. That the flutters it felt when the kindness in your eyes soothed him like a balm were monstrous and disgusting. 
When he finally saw the glow of Gareth’s face by the fire pit he couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or enraged by the sight of him. Beer in hand, yucking it up with some chick dressed as Velma from Scooby Doo.
Eddie marched over to them, fuming. “We’re leaving. Now,” he barked.
“Dude what the fuck?”
“Thanks for leaving me back there for the past hour.” 
“Well I wasn’t gonna sit there all night, that was kind of the deal.”
“Oh yeah? Well you could have at least told me. At least come back and let me take a piss for fuck’s sake. You know I can’t exactly leave drugs and money unattended.”
Gareth sighed, glancing over at Velma with a wince. “Sorry man, I kind of got sidetracked. Cindy this is,” he gestured in annoyance, “Eddie by the way.”
Eddie, tight lipped, waved his hand unceremoniously.
“Come on, just sit and hang out with us.”
“I don’t wanna hang out, I just wanna go,” Eddie said, looking around anxiously.
Gareth looked him over, eyebrows knitting. “Did something… happen, man?”
Eddie glanced at Cindy, at the wary concern painting her face. He shifted his eyes toward the other people packed around the fire, laughing and drinking. “I’ll tell you in the car.”
Gareth met him with a wide-eyed mixture of disappointment and worry. “Come on, man. Give me like half an hour?”
In the waning of his rage, Eddie could feel the exhaustion setting in. Feel how thirsty he still was, how his ears were ringing from the noise, how his chest still rattled from the fear. His eyes turned to pleading. “Please.”
Gareth sighed, defeated. “Fine.”
______
A/N: Fun fact, I use a real calendar from 1985/86 to outline the story and I checked out of curiosity what day the Halloween party her brother attended would have been and it actually was Saturday, Oct 26th 1968. 1985 and 1968 use the exact same calendar. I wasn’t even planning on making it the exact anniversary but it just worked out that way. 
Another fun fact, Eddie dealing at Tina’s Halloween party as a plot point and the fact that Jason and the boys were dressed like greasers was inspired by one of my absolute favorite fics Oh, Baby by @inknopewetrust. Seriously, go read it. One of the best.
Thank you so much everyone, you know what to do — If you loved it, share it and let me know!
I really do try my best to respond to all your comments. 💋
Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @newlips @chainsawmunson @trashmouth-richie @bebe0701 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @luna-munson83 @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @ruby-dragon @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @jo-harrington @chaoticgood-munson @edsforehead @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @emily-roberts @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @carolmunson
675 notes · View notes
blippymilk · 2 months
Text
Celebrities I believe that Trolls 3 characters stan:
John Dory - Sir Mix-A-Lot, H.E.R, J. Cole
Bruce - Ciara, Kelly Rowland, Ne-Yo
Clay - Sza, Travis Scott, Tyler the Creator, Michael Jackson, The Weeknd
Floyd - Jhené Aiko, Brent Faiyez, Kali Uchis, Tame Impala
Branch - Bruno Mars, Labrinth, Steve Lacey, Whitney Houston (for some reason??)
Poppy - Ariana Grande, Usher, TLC, Pinkpanthersss, Gwen Stafani
Viva - Fifth Harmony ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Victoria Monét, Ella Mai
Velvet - Lana Del Ray, Melanie Martinez, Brittney Spears (to a certain degree)
Veneer - Nicki Minaj, Lady Gaga, Flo Milli, Chloe x Halle, City Girls, Ice Spice
46 notes · View notes
little-snow · 8 months
Text
𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRING - George Karim x Ex!gn!Reader
ONESHOT - in which george has a breakdown in the bathroom
SONG - michael in the bathroom by george salazar
TRIGGERS - drinking, mental breakdown, being left
A/N - please mind any typos or grammar mistakes, it is proof-read only by me so I won’t be able to catch everything
WORD COUNT - 1k
masterlist
Tumblr media
THE WORLD is spinning. 
I knew it was a bad idea to come here, a even worse one to drink when I had seen them, hoping to just make the pain go away. I should have never listened to Lockwood. I should have stayed home. I could be home, curled up reading a book. I could be doing research about another case. I could be fighting a fucking ghost, that sounds better than being here right now.
I am crying in the bathroom at the biggest party of the fall. I could just sit right here and disappear, nobody'd even notice at all. Not Lockwood, not Lucy. Hell if I didn't know any better I would say they are snogging in a random corridor. I am a nobody to anybody here. 
Outside the door, people of high status fill the large rooms. Those who are not high status are the drunken agents who are partying like there is no tomorrow, probably because they may not have a tomorrow. But here is I am. I'm the creeper in the bathroom, because my buddies left me alone.
But I would rather fake pee than stand awkwardly staring at them from across the way. But it can't help but bring back the memories of the last party I had gone too. When everything felt fine, cause I was half of a pair. Though no fault of mine, there is no other half there. Because they left us. They left me. Not the other way around.
They left me, so now I am just, George in the bathroom. I am George in the bathroom at a party. God I forget how long it's been. And no one can come in. 
I will just sit here and cry, waiting for Lucy and Lockwood to come in get me or I'll wait it out 'til it's time to leave. This would leave me with hours of time to do nothing but sit, pout, and possibly pick at grout as I softly grieve. 
All because I'm just George, who you don't know. George whose flying solo. I am just George in the bathroom by himself. All by myself. I am hiding because their out their. I'm ignoring all our history. Trying to forget all the pain they brought me. I hope my memories get erased, maybe get replaced, with a newer cooler version of me. Because they deserve that. They deserve their second half, even if it isn't me. 
But now I hear a drunk girl, singing along to Whitney through  the door. "I wanna dance with somebody!" Her words are slurred, but it only bring backs memories of the good old days. But my feelings sink, cause it making me think, now there is no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore. 
I am left alone, nobody to call my home. No one to bring me tea, when I am up late at night. No one to watch over me. I am just me.
Now it's just George in the bathroom, George in the bathroom at a party. Could I get any less pathetic, as I sit and choke on the sobs. The alcohol in my system only making my emotions worse. I half regret the beers, cause its making the tears flow harder and faster. All because I am just George in the bathroom, George in the bathroom at a party.
I can try and hide, choke back the tears, wait as long as I need, 'till my face is dry. My eyes are red from, how do I even try to cover that?I could wait until they become less flush, or maybe I'll just blame it on weed. Or something in my eye.
How would anyone know? I'm just George who no who they don't know. George flying solo. George in the bathroom by himself. The last person they think of when they think of cool. I am just an oddball who no one likes. 
As I continue to clean off my face, trying to hide the fact I am crying, hiding in the bathroom by myself. Just waiting it out, till I hear a knock. Maybe I'll be free. Then I hear a few more, knock, knock, knock. It is getting more aggressive as I prepare to leave. They are gonna start to shout soon, hell yeah, I'll be out soon. I won't be on my own, it sucks they left me here, all alone, here in this battle zone. 
The noises get louder as they pound harder. I can feel their anger, the pressure blowing up. I knew it was a mistake showing up. If I just splash, some water on my face, everything will be just okay. 
So I throw some water on my face, and now I am in a better place. But as I go to open up the door, I can't hear knocking anymore.
I missed my chance, I missed my escape. I can't help but yearn, for a different time. One where I can get out of here, make my presents clear, have the courage to stand for what's right. But then I look in the mirror, and it becomes much clearer. There is no denying, I'm just George in the bathroom at a party, is there a sadder sight than... George in the bathroom at a party. 
This is a heinous night, I wish I just stayed home instead. Maybe just lay in bed. Or I wished I offed myself in bed, wish I was never born. Then I wouldn't have to do this all again. No one would care, no one would notice. 
I am just George who's a loner, so he must be a stoner. I ride a PT cruiser, god I am such a loser. 
But what's worse is when I hear the creek of the door. The lock is gone. I look over my shoulder, to see their face. The memories coming back to me. This isn't worth the pain, as they look at me, heartbreak in their eyes. I am now who they think that they know. 
I am not the same old boy, so much has changed. They don't know me anymore, and that is their fault.
"Georgie?" Their voice is still the same, sending my heart fluttering at the name. 
But all they know about me is my name.
"AWESOME PARTY, I'M SO GLAD I CAME."
47 notes · View notes
haileymunson · 2 years
Text
first kiss with robin headcanon
robin buckley x fem!reader
Tumblr media
first kiss headcanon for the prettiest lesbian in hawkins <3
you used hang out at the mall she’s used to work at and would ogle at each other while she worked. then one day when business was slow you finally got the confidence to talk to her
then when she worked at the video store, you’d hang out and look for movies you’d want to watch, and offered her to come over for dinner
after weeks of steve trying to build her confidence to ask you out, she agreed
you’d agree to bring the food and snacks and she’d bring the movies, you kissed her cheek as you left the store, leaving robin a flustered, stuttering mess
she turned around to meet steve’s wide eyes, “robin don’t you dare flake on her, you’ve been waiting on this for how long?! I’VE BEEN WANTING THIS FOR HOW LONG?!”
she closes for the night and bikes to your house with her backpack full of comedies and scary movies she thinks you like. she might’ve slipped a corny romance movie in for…..making fun of…..or……making out during……
she knocks on your door and as you open it, her smile drops and her cheeks heat up as she sees your outfit. a big sweatshirt with shorts
she sees your pretty legs that she totally has never admired from a distance when you wear those pretty sundresses and those frilly skirts
“hey robin! i ordered a pizza and i’m popping some popcorn now! you can come and set up with movie on my VHS”
you let her in your home and close the door behind her. she looked around your house, “nice place y/n,” you laugh as you walk back into the kitchen.
“yeah it’s nice. did you want to go in my room or would rather be in the living room? i don’t mind which ever, just want you to be comfortable”
her heart nearly skipped a beat at you mentioning being in your room
you and her? alone? in you room? probably on the bed…..doing things….oh she’s looking at me RESPOND
“oh um i don’t mind going to your room. um do you mind if you can show me your room?”
you walked away from the popcorn on the stove that hadn’t started popping yet, “oh of course! follow me.”
you walked out the kitchen with robin trailing behind you like a lost puppy. you walked to your room and turned on a few lamps so we could comfortably eat and watch the movie
robin looked around your room, “holy cow y/n your room is so cool!”
you had posters of Blondie, The Runaways, Vixen, The Pretenders, Stevie Nicks, Whitney Houston, Tina Turner, Joan Jett and so many other women
she also had stacks of various books everywhere, a record player with records, a portable tape player with tapes on her dresser, a guitar with an amp next to it, and a comfy bed in the middle of the room
she turned on the TV on her dresser, “thank you, you can put the tapes on the dresser and put whatever you have in! i’ll be right back to get the food and the snacks”
she gave her a smile as she sat on her bed and looked through her backpack, pulling out “the breakfast club”
she put the tape in her TV and looked around her room. she saw her record collection and swooned, Jimi Hendrix, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye, Miles Davis, Nina Simone, Al Green and so many others
while looking through her record collection she heard her come in and turned as she struggled holding the food she had in her arms
robin ran over to help her, holding the pizza box that was just about to fall out of her soft, cute, adorableeeee hands…..
“um thanks robin um, we can put the food on my bed,” you say nervously collecting yourself and putting your food on the bed
she nervously snaps out of her loving gaze and gets the pizza to put on her bed and sit next to you
getting comfortable you play the movie and eat your food together, laughing and talking about the various characters
she notices you lean back against your headboard and look towards her
“robin can i tell you something?”
she meets your gaze and lays against the headboard, “um, of course y/n, what’s up?”
you look at your lap, “um I just wanted to tell you that i’ve liked you for so long. like since you worked at scoops ahoy last year long. since you joined band freshman year long. and you’re so funny and so kind and so random and you’re so fucking cute and hearing you laugh and ramble makes me so happy and you’re just so perfect and-“ you were interrupted as robin grabbed your face and pressed her soft lips against yours
“geez y/n you ramble just like i do,” she says as she pecks your lips again and grab your face in her ring clad hands
“y/n i like you too. like so fucking much. i love your personality and your great lips and your pretty smile and the way you laugh and how you make me feel like a million butterflies erupted in my stomach and i just want you to be mine because the feeling of being with you is something i never want to stop feeling and i just want to talk to you all day and listening to music with you go do corny cute shit together and i-“
you smash your lips against hers and giggle against her lips “jeez robin you talk a lot”
you both laugh at your confession and hug each other, the movie and the food long forgotten, just the two of you finally happy that you’re finally together, after four years of looking at each other from afar
267 notes · View notes
usafphantom2 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
No, The F-35B Does Not Use Afterburner In Vertical Landing Mode
Imagery of F-35Bs operating at night make it look like afterburner is used in vertical mode, but the truth is more interesting.
@Aviation_intel via X
Thomas NewdickPUBLISHED Dec 28, 2023 1:31 PM EST
F-35 Lightning fighter jets have conducted their first night flying trials off the United Kingdom’s largest warship, HMS Queen Elizabeth. The aircraft carrier, which first landed F-35 Lightning jets on board last week, is currently conducting flight testing off the east coast of the United States. Pictures show how the night time trials, which up until now have only been tested in simulators or on the ground, were carried out using state-of-the-art night-vision technology, with the pilots and aircraft handlers successfully guiding the supersonic fighter jets onto the flight deck. Some trials were also carried out without night vision technology to ensure the jets’ capability in any eventuality.
U.S. Marine Corps photo by Kyra Helwick
An F-35B stealth fighter conducting vertical or rolling vertical landings on a warship’s deck at night is a sight to behold. Perhaps the most dramatic aspect of this audio-visual spectacle is the vertical ‘pillar of thrust’ upon which the jet perches as it makes its descent onto the deck. But while it looks very much like an afterburner plume, and many on social media think that's what it is, the F-35B doesn’t actually engage this function when operating in vertical mode.
The effect, as seen in the photo at the top of this story — showing an F-35B on the U.K. Royal Navy carrier HMS Prince of Wales — is produced when a highly sensitive low-light camera picks up the very hot gas that’s pumped out of the F-35B’s rear nozzle upon landing at night.
A quick aside on afterburners to get everyone up to speed. Many high-performance military aircraft, the F-35B included, feature them. They inject fuel into a combustor in the jet pipe behind the turbine, for a significant boost in thrust when required, albeit at the cost of drastically increased fuel consumption and infrared signature.
Tumblr media
F-35B taking off conventionally in afterburner during a test sortie. Lockheed Martin
We know, of course, that the F-35B’s engine already produces a lot of heat. In the past, the deck coatings and some structural elements of ships have had to be modified to deal with it. Even without the afterburner, the Pratt & Whitney F135 engine generates a staggering amount of thrust for the short takeoff and vertical landing (STOVL) operations that are unique to the F-35B variant of the aircraft.
A video shows a U.S. Marine Corps test pilot performing the first night-time vertical landing by an F-35B aboard the USS Wasp on August 14, 2013:
youtube
The War Zone spoke to one experienced former F-35B pilot, who prefers to remain anonymous, to get a better understanding of the technologies — and performance — involved in STOVL operations.
First off, the pilot gave us an idea of the sheer amount of thrust that we are dealing with in STOVL mode.
Tumblr media
U.S. Marine Corps Maj. Michael Lippert and Peter Wilson, F-35 test pilots at the Patuxent River Integrated Test Force (ITF), conduct night field carrier landing practices at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland, in August 2018, in preparation for trials aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann
The variant of the F135 engine used in the F-35B, in dry thrust (without gas-guzzling afterburner engaged), develops around 18,500 pounds of thrust when in STOVL mode. It’s this hot gas that can be seen in the above images and others like it. The vectoring exhaust in the F-35B version is known as the 3 Bearing Swivel Nozzle or 3BSN. While the pilot can select separate stages (zones) of afterburner for a major thrust gain in conventional flight mode, it’s much harder to modulate finely for the more delicate STOVL operations.
F-35B test aircraft BF-4 hovers in the darkness during a night test flight at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland, December 13, 2012. Lockheed Martin
At the same time, for STOVL operations, the F-35B is equipped with a Rolls-Royce Lift Fan, a 50-inch, two-stage counter-rotating fan driven via a shaft from the main engine. The Lift Fan produces a similar amount of thrust — so, roughly another 18,500 pounds.
On top of this, add the two roll posts — which stream more hot exhaust gases from the main engine for additional stability — generating between 1,800 pounds and 2,000 pounds of thrust each.
All this makes for a little over 40,000 pounds of total thrust. Without afterburner.
A diagram showing, from left to right, the Lift Fan, two roll posts, and the 3 Bearing Swivel Nozzle or 3BSN in the F-35B. Rolls-Royce
“There’s a reserve to allow the jet to automatically tune it up over the life of the engine to keep it at that level,” the pilot explains. “That said, there are issues with the predicted life/fatigue already. So a new engine update is inbound.” You can read more about those plans here.
When hovering, the F-35B’s maximum weight is limited to 38,850 pounds to ensure there’s some extra thrust to provide flexibility and cushion the landing.
Tumblr media
An F-35B during night flying trials aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth, as part of flight testing off the east coast of the United States in 2018. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann
Less obvious, perhaps, is the work of the flight control system to manage the jet’s transition into vertical mode and then help put it safely on the deck.
“Decelerating into the hover, the aircraft is around 11 degrees nose-up,” the pilot continues. “As the aircraft goes into the jet-borne (JB) regime, the attitude changes progressively down to 1.8 degrees nose-up. So quite a change as you slow down — this is all controlled by the thrust split between the 3 Bearing Swivel Nozzle (3BSN) at the back and the Lift Fan. Then, as the pilot commands a descent from the hover down to the pad, the thrust split increases the attitude from 1.8 to 3.8 degrees nose-up to account for sloping pads or a pitching deck, ensuring the main wheels touch down before the nose wheel.”
F-35Bs conduct night flying operations aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann
The opposite then happens when the pilot commands the F-35B to accelerate out of the hover and into the conventional flight mode. “[The jet] starts at 1.8 degrees nose-up and as you go into semi-jet borne flight around 60 KCAS [Knots Calibrated Airspeed], the attitude raises to 11 degrees nose-up to make the wing take some of the lift load and lower the amount of engine thrust required by the Lift Fan and 3BSN combination in the vertical axis. Eventually, the Lift Fan thrust is reduced, and a speed is achieved that allows the aircraft to be converted out of STOVL mode and into CTOL [conventional takeoff and landing] mode as a conventional fixed-wing fighter.”
“It’s astoundingly clever,” the pilot enthuses.
Another view of F-35B night field carrier landing practices by the Patuxent River Integrated Test Force (ITF), at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland, in August 2018. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann
Cleverer still is a variation of the vertical recovery that’s seen in the photo at the top of this story — the Shipborne Rolling Vertical Landing (SRVL), a concept you can read more about here and here.
A standard F-35B recovery involves the jet being brought alongside the ship in a hover, translating sideways over the deck, before gently lowering to land. The advantage of this maneuver is increased safety, due to the low speeds involved, with no need to decelerate to a stop using the brakes.
youtube
In contrast, the SRVL makes use of a combination of powered and wing-borne lift to make a rolling landing, with the F-35B then brought to a stop using its brakes. According to the Royal Navy, “An SRVL uses a different approach, with the jet using a more conventional landing pattern, approaching the ship from the aft end, at speed, using the thrust from the nozzle and lift created by air over the wings to touch down and come to a stop as soon as possible.”
A video from the Shipborne Rolling Vertical Landing simulator at the BAE Warton facility in the United Kingdom:
youtube
The main advantage of an SRVL is that the F-35B can return to the ship with a heavier load of fuel and/or weapons. Otherwise, expensive stores might have to be ejected into the sea if they are not expended. It’s hoped that the SRVL maneuver will allow the F-35B to land back on the ship with a payload gain of 2,000 pounds, equivalent to four Paveway IV precision-guided bombs.
A fully loaded UK F-35B on the deck of HMS Queen Elizabeth. Stores on the underwing stations include four 500-pound Paveway IV precision-guided bombs. Crown Copyright
The SRVL concept was proven by test pilots aboard the aircraft carrier HMS Queen Elizabeth in 2018. The photo at the top of this story was taken during trials aboard sister carrier HMS Prince of Wales in October 2023, which were aimed to introduce the SRVL capability to frontline pilots.
Achieving an SRVL requires close cooperation between the pilot and the ship’s landing signal officer (LSO) in the flying control office. The pilot also receives flightpath cues from their helmet-mounted display.
Tumblr media
U.K. test pilot Peter Wilson conducts the first-ever SRVL by an F-35B, during trials aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth in 2018. Crown Copyright
Meanwhile, the Prince of Wales features a visual landing aid — known as the Bedford Array — specifically tailored to SRVLs. This comprises an array of lights in the flight deck tramlines, which indicates the glideslope to the pilot.
Currently, the United Kingdom is the only F-35B operator committed to introducing the SRVL to its concept of operations, although the U.S. Marine Corps has shown some interest in the past. Still, this is likely connected with operations from British aircraft carriers rather than U.S. Navy amphibious assault ships. Regardless, the U.S. Marine Corps continues to be involved in the trials with the Royal Navy, as part of the Integrated Test Force. SRVLs may well also be of relevance to Italy and Japan, both of which also operate their F-35Bs from ships, but just how safe it would be on those ships's smaller decks is unclear at this time.
An F-35B from the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit performs a vertical landing on the flight deck of the USS America (LHA-6). F-35 Lightning II Joint Program Office
Whether by day or night, returning an F-35B to the deck of a ship showcases some extremely sophisticated technology, some of it more visible than others. While a nighttime recovery may suggest the use of afterburner, the truth is, if anything, more impressive, with the jet being brought back to the ship thanks to roughly 40,000 pounds of non-afterburning thrust.
Contact the author: [email protected]
13 notes · View notes
freddieslater · 8 months
Text
Fandoms + Ships (for Prompt Purposes)
As I like to reblog prompts a lot but have the annoying little habit of jumping ship on a fandom fast than a pirate invasion, I decided it is finally time I make an official list, which will be constantly updated as I develop new interests! If there’s a ship you want to request but it isn’t here, just ask and I’ll let you know where I stand with it!
The Hunger Games
• Everlark (Katniss/Peeta)
• Finnick/Annie
• Haymitch/Effie
• Katniss/Madge
Future Man
• Josh Futturman x Reader
Burn
• Billy x Reader
HSMTMTS
• Caswen (Ricky/EJ)
• Portwell (EJ/Gina)
• Mashlynn (Maddox/Ashlynn)
• Ricky/Jet
The Vampire Diaries
• Stelena (Stefan/Elena)
• Mattlena (Matt/Elena)
• Tylena (Tyler/Elena)
• Elenijah (Elijah/Elena)
• Barolena (Bonnie/Caroline/Elena)
• Stexi (Stefan/Lexi)
• Denzo (Damon/Enzo)
• Forwood (Tyler/Caroline)
• Maroline (Matt/Caroline)
• Bamon (Bonnie/Damon)
• Bamenzo (Bonnie/Damon/Enzo)
• Carenzo (Caroline/Enzo)
• Dalijah (Damon/Elijah)
• Parkwood (Tyler/Liv)
• Klayley (Klaus/Hayley)
Legacies
• Handon (Hope/Landon)
• Jandon (Josie/Landon)
• Henelope (Hope/Penelope)
• Hizzie (Hope/Lizzie)
• Kizzie (Kaleb/Lizzie)
• Methan (MG/Ethan)
• Ked (Kaleb/Jed)
• Dark!Jobastian (Dark!Josie/Sebastian)
• Landizzie (Landon/Lizzie)
Teen Wolf
• Sciles (Scott/Stiles)
• Scydia (Scott/Lydia)
• Mccallinski (Lydia/Scott/Stiles)
• Stalia (Stiles/Malia)
• Malydia (Malia/Lydia)
• Stira (Stiles/Kira)
• Scira (Scott/Kira)
• Liason (Liam/Mason)
• Allydia (Allison/Lydia)
• Allerica (Allison/Erica)
• Berica (Boyd/Erica)
• Malisaac (Malia/Isaac)
• Lydora (Lydia/Cora)
• Allora (Allison/Cora)
• Scanny (Scott/Danny)
• Malira (Malia/Kira)
The Witcher
• Yennskier (Yennefer/Jaskier)
• Geraskerer (Geralt/Yennefer/Jaskier)
• Raskier (Radovid/Jaskier)
• Trennefer (Triss/Yennefer)
• Geralt/Triss
EastEnders
• Frobby (Bobby/Freddie)
• Chryed (Christian/Syed)
• Ballum (Ben/Callum)
• Sukeve (Suki/Eve)
• Ben Mitchell/Kheerat Panesar
• Jack Branning/Michael Moon
• Whitney Dean/Chelsea Fox
• Whitney Dean/Lauren Branning
• Lauren Branning/Peter Beale
• Lauren Branning/Lucy Beale
• Peter Beale/Fatboy
• Zack Hudson/Martin Fowler
• Zack Hudson/Felix Baker
• Anna Knight/Bernie Taylor
• Stacey Slater/Danielle Jones
• Peter Beale/Tamwar Masood
• Darren Miller/Tamwar Masood
• Tamwar Masood/Afia Khan
• Masood Ahmed/Jane Beale
• Anna Knight/Bobby Beale
• Anna Knight/Bobby Beale/Freddie Slater
• Linda Carter/Alfie Moon
Friends
• Roey (Rachel/Joey)
• Chanoey (Chandler/Joey)
Stranger Things
• Elmax (El/Max)
• Elumax (El/Lucas/Max)
• Byclair (Lucas/Will)
• Byler (Will/Mike)
• Ronance (Robin/Nancy)
• Steddie (Steve/Eddie)
Glee
• Blam (Blaine/Sam)
• St. Hudson (Finn/Jesse)
• Tike (Tina/Mike)
• Quinntana (Quinn/Santana)
• Pezberry (Santana/Rachel)
• Quinncedes (Quinn/Mercedes)
• Sike (Sam/Mike)
• Jarley (Jake/Marley)
• Kurtbastian (Kurt/Sebastian)
The Flash
• Barrisco (Barry/Cisco)
• Snowbarrisco (Caitlin/Barry/Cisco)
• WestStein (Joe/Martin)
• Superflash (Barry/Kara)
• Thallen (Barry/Eddie)
•Westthallen (Iris/Barry/Eddie)
• Westhawne (Iris/Eddie)
Outlander
• Jamie/John
• John/Brianna
• Brianna/Roger
• Lizzie/Josiah/Kezzie
• William/Denzell
Lucifer
• Lucifella (Ella/Lucifer)
• Douchifella (Lucifer/Dan/Ella)
• Mazifer (Maze/Lucifer)
• Douchifer (Dan/Lucifer)
• Chlaze (Chloe/Maze)
PJO/HoO
• Jasico (Jason/Nico)
• Jercy (Jason/Percy)
• Perachel (Percy/Rachel)
• Rachabeth (Rachel/Annabeth)
• Pipabeth (Piper/Annabeth)
Merlin
• Merthur (Merlin/Arthur)
• Mercelot (Merlin/Lancelot)
•Merwaine (Merlin/Gwaine)
• Morgwen (Morgana/Gwen)
The Dumping Ground
• Elektra/Faith
• Elektra/Carmen
• Carmen/Lily
• Tyler/Jody
• Jody/Sasha
• Tyler/Ryan
• Chloe/Candi-Rose
• Candi-Rose/Bird
• Candi-Rose/Jay
The Story of Tracy Beaker
• Tracy/Crash
• Tracy/Ben
• Tracy/Lol
• Lol/Wolfie
• Crash/Rio
• Justine/Rebecca
Life With Derek
• Dasey (Derek/Casey)
• Derek/Sam
• Derek/Trevor
• Casey/Sally
Boy Meets World
• Shory (Shawn/Cory)
• Jeric (Jack/Eric)
• Eric/Jason
• Shawngela (Shawn/Angela)
• Shawpanga (Shawn/Topanga)
Girl Meets World
• Rilaya (Riley/Maya)
• Riley/Zay
• Riarkle (Riley/Farkle)
• Lucaya (Lucas/Maya)
• Maya/Zay
• Riley/Maya/Zay
Descendants
• Jal (Jay/Mal)
• Jaylos (Jay/Carlos)
• Mevie (Mal/Evie)
• Hevie (Harry/Evie)
• Buma (Ben/Uma)
• Umaudrey (Uma/Audrey)
• Haudrey (Harry/Audrey)
• Humaudrey (Harry/Uma/Audrey)
• Bevie (Ben/Evie)
iCarly
• Creddie (Carly/Freddie)
• Carly/Sam
• Carper (Carly/Harper)
• Sparper (Spencer/Harper)
Victorious
• Tandre (Tori/Andre)
• Jori (Jade/Tori)
Zoey 101
• Quogan (Quinn/Logan)
19 notes · View notes
abisbookshelf · 2 years
Text
100 songs - byler :)
1) i wanna be yours - artic monkeys
2) moment - lildeath & vierre cloud
3) lover - taylor swift
4) alien blues- vundabar
5) francis forever - mitski
6) as it was - harry styles
7) video games - lana del ray
8) two birds - regina spektor
9) i want to be your boyfriend - hot freaks
10) fool - cavetown
11) i love you so - the walters
12) heather - conan gray
13) boys don’t cry - the cure
14) wish you were gay - billie eilish
15) all i wanted - paramore
16) deja vu - olivia rodrigo
17) soap - melanie martinez
18) friends - chase atlantic
19) washing machine heart - mitski
20) another love - tom odell
21) sweater weather - the neighbourhood
22) juliet - cavetown
23) cupid - jack stauber
24) idontwannabeyouanymore - billie eilish
25) sunflower - michele leigh
26) can't remember to forget you - shakira & rihanna
27) first love / late spring - mitski
28) take my breath away - berlin
29) this side of paradise - coyote theory
30) every breath you take - the police
31) time after time - cyndi lauper
32) black out days - phantogram
33) falling for ya - grace phipps
34) save your tears - the weeknd and ariana grande
35) style - taylor swift
36) are we still friends? - tyler the creator
37) glimpse of us - joji
38) cruel summer - taylor swift
39) she likes another boy - oscar lang
40) all too well - taylor swift
41) the beach - the neighbourhood
42) movies - conan gray
43) me and my husband - mitski
44) lay all your love on me - ABBA
45) closer x love me like you do - the chainsmokers & ellie goulding (remix)
46) message in a bottle - taylor swift
47) a pearl - mitski
48) poison - rita ora
49) without you - odesza
50) look after you - the fray
51) 505 - artic monkeys
52) night bus - gabrielle aplin
53) unconditionally - katy perry
54) again - noah cyrus & XXXTENTACION
55) grace - lewis capaldi
56) chasing cars - HALE (snow patrol cover)
57) can’t remember to forget you - shakira
58) until i found you - em beihold & stephen sanchez
59) enchanted - taylor swift
60) still falling for you - ellie goulding
61) getaway car x out of the woods - taylor swift (remix)
62) marry you - bruno mars
63) take on the world - you and me at six
64) as the world caves in - matt maltese (sarah cothran cover)
65) you are enough - sleeping at last 
66) cloud 9 - beach bunny
67) wildest dreams - taylor swift
68) hug me -  pharrell williams & trey parker
69) dandelions - ruth b
70) can’t take my eyes off of you / i love you baby - paul anka
71) kiss me more - doja cat
72) silhouette - pastel ghost
73) bags - clairo
74) take your shirt off - millionaires
75) maps - maroon 5 / adam levine
76) birthday - katy perry
77) shadow lady - portwave
78) rock your body - justin timberlake
79) light switch - charlie puth
80) only love can hurt like this - paloma faith
81) SNAP - rosa linn
82)  apocalypse - cigarettes after s*x
83) fine line - harry styles
84) ocean eyes - billie eilish
85) set fire to the rain - adele
86) back to you - selena gomez
87) i will always love you - whitney houston
88) tek it - cafuné
89) traitor - olivia rodrigo
90) happier than ever - billie eilish
91) why am i like this - orla gartland 
92) water under the bridge - adele
93) mr loverman - ricky montgomery
94) freaks - surf curse
95) pretty boy - the neighbourhood
96) hey lover! - wabie
97) heroes - david bowie
98) me and michael - MGMT
99) i met sarah in the bathroom - awfultune
100) fight or flight - conan gray
64 notes · View notes