#pole sports organization

[mandyqueersolid]

It’s the season for stabbing Caesar

#ides of march #pole dancing #I can talk about the horror show that was this competition and how I had to run it TWICE #and I’m still at the point where I can only see where I messed up and where the choreo went wrong #but I’m also queueing this and hoping that by the time it posts I won’t be as upset anymore #LOOK AT MY FACE #pole dancer #pole sport organization #PSO pacific

[styllwaters]

Primarily airborne sophonts hailing from the low-gravity planet of Hanidias, the Arrows are one of the oldest species in the Zhagaviit Galactic Community.

___

Introducing Arrows officially! These guys are the revised version of my older spec bio species, the Angelum. They've since undergone a lot of changes. Further information below!

Before I begin, I would like to make some things clear. A lot of the lore in the old Angelum info post is now irrelevant. Here are the revisions:

The Sacrazoa, Thronalia and Seraphae subtypes do not exist. Additionally, there is no 'Original Angelum'.

Previously I stated that the entirety of the population was genetically modified, but I've retconned this to only a select few individuals.

The only Genizix-touched Arrows are the Higher Arrows, which I will delve into later.

Lifepods do not exist.

Rather than communicate telepathically, the Arrows communicate with chemical signalling/pheromones.

Now that that's out of the way, time for some fresh new lore!

___________________

Arrows spend a good amount of time floating in the air. They possess a specialised 'gas bladder' which they can inflate and deflate to control their position, slightly similar to how a fish controls its buoyancy in the water.

They do not have the same level of agility as a bird or other winged creatures, their lack of powered flight making them significantly slower. However, they can change direction, dive quickly, land, and often take advantage of air currents and wind to increase speed.

Arrows feed on floating 'aeroplankton' which thrive in the atmosphere of their planet. Concentrations of these microscopic lifeforms are farmed in enormous quantities. Arrow's feeding tendrils are typically only deployed when they are eating; the aeroplankton is absorbed into the tendrils and nutrients are transported upwards to the main hub. However, they can also be deployed for courtship displays (especially for the males) and dancing.

Arrows, in the past, were the target of many predators. They were mainly concerned with attacks from other smaller, faster, flying organisms. To combat this, their five eyes aided in a wide peripheral vision enabling them to spot trouble quickly. In addition, they evolved countershading in order to camouflage with the dark sea below and the cloudy sky above. Males sport a more contrasting palette, clearly outlining them against the sky, but those who were able to survive indicated a viable choice for a mate.

Nowadays, with safer areas, infrastructure and impressive technology, predators are no longer a threat.

There are four main ethnic groups on Hanidias; namely Cursors, Needles, Indicators and Darts. Cursors and Needles mainly reside in the skies above the open ocean and cliff sides. Indicators make their home in the icy Northern and Southern poles, and Darts above the brackish river water further inland. However, all Arrows are very widespread.

___________________

This is just an introductory post - there's still a lot to say about these fellas - but i'll leave it there for now. As always, asks are welcome!

#vivere 44 #speculative evolution #speculative biology #spec evo #spec bio #aliens #arrows #art #my art #xenobiology #xenofiction #i've had this in my drafts for like 2 weeks

[extinctionstories]

When biotech companies talk about resurrecting the passenger pigeon, through cloning or other genetic wizardry, it’s hard for me to take them seriously. Partly because I have my doubts regarding technology that hasn’t succeeded in producing even a simple domestic chicken. But mostly because, I wonder where they think the newly-created birds would fit.

Imagine millions of pigeons landing on power lines; toppling poles; taking out cable and plunging cities into darkness. Nesting in the false branches of cell and radio towers. Sending light posts crashing down onto cars in parking lots and streets. Swimming against the stream of interstate traffic. Colliding with skyscrapers, dazzled by their own reflected hordes.

Fluttering silhouettes, black against the blue, would block out days of summer leisure, blanketing festivals and concerts and sports fields with their white sleet. They’d interfere with fireworks and drone displays, and even the take off and landing of airplanes. Think of the trouble just a couple of geese can cause. (The last free-flying pigeon died without ever having had to share the skies with wings of wood or fiberglass or steel.)

Birds swooping down, to drink and to drown, from public reservoirs and lakeside harbors and backyard swimming pools. Decimating the manicured trees of city parks. Frightening pets and children and livestock. Antagonizing home owners associations up and down the east coast.

If we brought them back, this wing-flapping force of nature, what would be their place? This compound organism whose way of life depended upon existing en masse. A gust of wind can’t be held in a bottle.

For tens of thousands of years, passenger pigeons thundered over the land, marking and maintaining it, the rare species whose environmental impact could rival our own. It took scarcely a century to craft a world with which they were fundamentally incompatible. A landscape that can exist only without them.

And then I wonder, how much of that sterilized world came about because of their absence. What other ways might we have found to live, if we’d been forced to share the landscape with the wildness of the feathered gale?

How much better might things be, if the pigeons had never been gone?

#I’m just continually in awe of the idea of the pigeon flocks #I really want to find a book that goes deep into the environmental ramifications of passenger pigeons presence and abscence #passenger pigeon #recently extinct #extinct birds #de extinction #extinction stories

[rosethornewrites]

When I was a kid, my mom was dealing with mental illness and fibromyalgia when people didn’t believe it existed, and my dad was something of a workaholic.

She quickly realized that summers would be hell unless she packed them with activities she had to do little to nothing to prepare for.

Sure, we did the summer camps and sports and 4H that most kids do, but I think my favorite thing she found for us was archaeology. She managed to find it advertised in our small town newspaper, and I’m so glad she did.

A professor of archaeology at a state university was concerned about planned development along a local river that was known to have held native villages. There really wasn’t enough manpower or money to do “official” digs.

So he found a fun solution: he organized an archaeological summer day camp for kids above like age 6 or so.

Each day we were dropped off at a school about 40 minutes from home with anything we could need in the field (literally) in those 1980s fanny packs and bagged lunches. He and his crew of summer interns had already sectioned off the spaces and started the process, preparing the site with official labeling methods and such. And we were split into teams, usually by age, with younger teams more closely supervised by interns. (Thankfully I was on a team without my siblings and with a close friend.)

Every day, one team stayed at the school with 1-2 interns to learn to catalog the artifacts already uncovered by different teams, carefully sorted by team and space. (If it was raining we all stayed and worked.)

Everyone else would bus to the field, hike through some undergrowth, and learn to gently trowel the layers of earth away, letting him take photos of each layer as we went, and sifted the dirt through screens for anything that was so small it may have been missed. We excavated fire pits and also found the remnants of wood poles that had once been the skeletons of structures. The sediment of the former was always bagged for further analysis by experts.

During every stage we were very carefully monitored and sometimes the professor would call for a halt and show us something cool another team had uncovered.

After being cataloged, the pieces were ultimately sent to the state museum for display or storage, always with the names of the team that found them.

My team found a tiny artifact through sifting that proved that the local native village had to have trade contacts in another state due to the material it was made of, and I remember this professor being super excited about it. We were even in the local paper over it—I have the article, which had my picture accompanying it.

At the end of each of the camp the 2 years I went, we were allowed to walk through a freshly planted farmer’s field and see if we spotted arrowheads or other artifacts that we were permitted to take home with us. (Since the ground was already disturbed and the cataloging would be difficult to impossible, I’d guess.)

I’ve never been to the museum to see if that tiny piece of history I helped uncover is on display, but I will always remember how much I learned from this camp.

In some other universe, one that branched off somewhere from this one, a version of me surely pursued archaeology as a career.

#archaeology

[bitchinbarzal]

five more minutes | luke hughes

summary; I liked this song so it’s a song fic!

-

Eight years old, couple cane poles sittin' down by the creek

Lines in the water watchin' those bobbers, seein' that red sun sink

Mama's on the porch yellin', "Supper's hot, y'all come and get it"

We yelled, "Five more minutes"

“y/n, luke c’mon you too! Dinners getting cold!” Ellen shouted down the yard to the dock where you both sat watching the fish.

“Five more minutes mom!”

“You can come back out after but you’ve gotta eat!” She demanded and the two groaned, standing from their sports and marching up the garden to the table where everyone else waited for them.

“About time, I’m starving!” Jack moaned, finally able to eat his burger.

“Yeah we had to wait for you Lukey and your girlfriend” Quinn taunted.

Their dad gave both of them a stern look “Knock it off you two, you’re making poor y/n uncomfortable”

You smiled, burger in hand and ketchup smeared on your cheek “It’s okay I’ve got brothers too and they suck also”

The two choked on their food and Jim let out a laugh “She’s funny, I think she’ll fit right in here”

After dinner it was getting dark.

“Mom we’re going down to the dock again!” Luke announced

“I don’t think so you two, it’s late and y/n sweetheart your mom will be wanting you home soon”

“five minutes? Please mom?” Luke begged

“Okay five minutes and I mean it! No chancing it remember you’re still only eight young man” she kissed his forehead and let you go.

At sixteen it was 12:03 standin' at her front door

Katie's dad said midnight, but we needed just a little more

Yellow light flippin' on and off, interruptin' that goodnight kissin'

We wanted five more minutes

“Twelve o’clock you return my daughter Hughes” is what your dad said when luke picked you up for your date.

“Yes sir, twelve o’clock like the past eight years we’ve been friends” he made a playful jab but your dad didn’t laugh

“Well you weren’t dating her then, it’s different criteria now”

Your date was perfect, he’d taken you to the fair and it was just carefree. It was very You.

Luke landed you on the porch at 11:57, before the cut off.

You stood in front of him on the porch, hands cradling his “I had a lot of fun tonight, thanks Lu”

“Anything for my girl” he smiled, brushing the hair from your eyes behind your ears.

You watched his eyes as Luke’s head slowly dipped down and right before he was going to kiss you…

the porch lights began flickering

You both groaned simultaneously

The door opened and your dad mumbled “twelve o three kid, you’re late”

“Five more minutes sir?” He almost begged and you gave a pleading look.

“Fine but I’m deducting ten the next time you take her out!”

At eighteen, turned my helmet in and walked to the fifty-yard line

Just the coach and me after we lost eighteen to nine

And I cried, "Man, next time to get in here, I'll have to buy a ticket

Can't you give me five more minutes?"

They had returned from Florida, unsuccessful once again.

Everyone was moping around and making calls — the calls. Mackie and Duke never even left Florida, Luke and Eddy had to pack their stuff in a box and ship it out to Florida.

Luke found himself at the brunt end of phone calls from Jack, Nico, the organization. He just wanted to breathe.

He found himself in Yost on a Friday night all alone.

He sat in one of the seats, it felt weird he’d never sat here before.

He stared at the ice thinking of all the memories; his first goal, his team, his first hattrick.

“It’s weird to sit alone in the dark you know?” Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, turning to see you on the concourse.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to grab my camera from the media room I’ve got an interview with Mackie tomorrow about signing that I need it for” you explained, sitting in the seat next to him and dropping your head onto his shoulder.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“The next time i wanna get in here, I’ll have to buy a ticket” he mumbled.

“I’ll get you in, media perks and all that” you joked and he chuckled only lightly

“I’m serious y/n, I feel like I wasn’t even in college two seconds now suddenly everyone’s trying to pull me out I just need five more minutes!” He snapped, frustratedly sitting forward.

Your hand rested on his back and you kissed him shoulder “You’ve got all the time in the world baby, I’m here when you’re ready”

He looked up at you, eyes red and strained “Can we have five more minutes?” He looked towards the ice and you nodded.

You both took off downstairs and got on skates before headed off doing calm laps of the ice, hand in hand.

“I wish we were kids in the dock again” Luke grumbles, turning to face you and skate backwards.

You smile “We gotta grow up sometime kid”

The lights turn on and catch both of your attention. Reggie, the cleaning guy stands ice side “you kids gotta go!”

“Five more minutes?” You ask, a soft smile on your face and he shrugs “Only five! And because you’re my favourite!”

please give us five more minutes?

You sobbed and sobbed into his hoodie, gripping onto him for dear life “Baby I’ve gotta go”

“No not yet” you cried.

“You said that last time, I promise you it’s going to be fine” he pulled you away from his body and looked you in the eyes “you’ll be in jersey with me in no time”

You pouted, sniffling “just give me five more minutes”

“My flights boarding” he states, checking his watch.

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around him and sniffling into his chest “I love you Lu, I’m so proud of you”

“I know love, my biggest fan always but I do really have to go” he urges, pulling you away from his body and holding your face.

You lean up and kiss him before mumbling “You’ve got to walk away now Luke because if you don’t I won’t let you go”

“Okay I’m going” with one last kiss

You step back under Mark’s arm watching Luke walk through the airport and begin crying again. Mark rubs up and down your arm “He’ll be great y/n”

“We just needed five more minutes”

[betweenthings2]

tell us more about gay rodeo

Absolutely.

I'll preface this with the fact that rodeo is not my chosen horse sport. I did western gaming (like barrel racing, pole bending, ect) for a while when I was a kid, but I mostly do eventing now, which makes me about as insane as a person who gets on a bucking horse or bull, or more because I don't win any money, and some show jumping.

First and foremost, though, tell me rodeo is not camp as all hell. You can't. Rodeo is so fucking camp. There is, if you don't know, an International Gay Rodeo Association and they have been around since the mid-1980s and they oversee gay rodeos in the US and Canada. They do a lot of fundraising and awareness raising for the sport and Western American culture and work with regional organizations with similar missions to put on rodeos. They put on typical rodeo events, like bull riding, bareback bronc riding, team roping, and barrel racing, among others, but they also do some camp events.

The thing I really love though, is that it follows a tradition of queer people taking traditionally masculine things and making them our own. Traditionally and despite that fact that I think they're very camp, rodeos are a very masculine thing and place. Many of the events find their origins in ranch work or 'cowboying', like working cattle or training horses, which arguably have a very masculine tradition. Think about the myth of the cowboy and the early American West or the Wild West. I would argue that conjures a very masculine set of ideas. There's a contentious history of women in rodeo that I don't know very well, but in my experience, rodeo is very masculine.

I also think that gay rodeo is a really wonderful instance of queer solidarity or a good reminder that queer people exist in rural America and take part in the culture as much as anyone else. You also get to think about one of my favorite Willie Nelson songs, "Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other."

#betweenthings talks

[nice2meetyouu]

Reflection Part 1

Nu'ng mas bata ako, I guess, ang rigid kong tao. Dapat ganito, dapat gano'n. Harsh sa sarili at harsh din sa iba.

To some extent, may na-achieve naman ako dahil sa pagiging rigid. Doktor na ako at 24, may ipon, may business (dati), na-try ko na 'yung kung anu-anong sport at exercise, pinaka-notable siguro 'yung pole dancing for less than a year (nagpromo kasi 'yung gym), naging kasali sa choir, nakapunta sa kung saan-saan gawa ng social events, nakipamuhay sa liblib na lugar, naging ESL teacher, naging researcher, office worker, writer, editor; naging president ng mga school organization... and so on.

Pero ngayong tumatanda na, at nagsisipagkasalan na ang mga kaibigan ko, at ang routine ko ay gumising-work-chores-matulog, napag-isip-isip kong masyado akong critical, at harsh, sa ibang tao... at lalo nga sa sarili ko.

Last year, naadik ako sa pagpapalaki ng sahod. Gusto ko nang ma-reach 'yung financial independence. Dahil bilib ako sa sarili ko, at naniniwala ako na kaya ko, grind-grind-grind lang.

And then, hindi naman kataka-taka na naburnout ako sa ginagawa ko.

Still, may guilt pa rin sa akin kasi may mga kaibigan akong mas matindi mag-grind, halos 200,000 ang takehome kada buwan. Parehas lang naman kaming doktor. At last time na nagkita kami, nakabili na siya ng lupa.

Sobrang goal-driven ko. Pero ambobo rin sa pakiramdam. Alam kong napapagod ako, pero iniignore ko lang. Eyes on the prize, ang sabi. Hindi ko alam anong nagpapasaya sa 'kin. Kahit anong itry ko, nagiging competition siya—I have to be the best sa isip ko. And then I get frustrated when I'm progressing slowly, or not at all. I get frustrated when I do nothing. And even when I do something, I still feel na it's not enough.

#sarili

[astra-galaxie]

"The Flying Squad? Meraviglioso! I feared Chief Wright had not gotten my message about arriving a few days earlier!" - Argo Acquafredda

Biographical information

Full Name: Argo Acquafredda

Alias(es): 

Sirena(Siren in Italian)

Melodía (Melody in Spanish)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Status: Alive

Age: 25 (season 4)

Birth: December 22, 1865

Race: Human

Nationality: Italian

Origin: Canto del Mare, Italy

Residence:

Concordia, USA

Rome, Italy (formerly)

Naples, Italy (formerly)

Canto del Mare, Italy (formerly)

Profession(s): Detective

Family:

Unnamed mother

Unnamed father

Unnamed grandfather

Unnamed grandmother

Partner(s):

Jason Nicchi (boyfriend)

Diego del Lobo (ex-boyfriend)

Affiliation(s): Concordia Flying Squad

Profile

Height: 5'5"

Age: 25 (season 4)

Weight: 127lbs

Eyes: bronze

Blood: O-

Argo is a young, beautiful man of below-average height with a slender figure. He has very androgynous features, so much so that he can be mistaken for either gender. His sharp eyes resemble melted bronze, and his hair is black as night, made of soft, loose curls trimmed to just brush his shoulders, while his skin is a warm shade of honey brown.

When working as a detective, he wears a black dress shirt with the top unbuttoned to expose his neck, a deep blue corset vest with lighter blue details and small bronze clasps down the front. His black pants are fitted but not tight, with the ends tucked into a pair of dark brown boots reaching just below his knees. Over it all, he wears an ocean-blue trench coat with bronze buttons. Brown leather arm guards are on his wrists to protect him when Caspian rests on his forearms/wrists. Lastly, he wears a black choker with a bronze nautilus shell pendant, small matching earrings, and goggles on the top of his head with elegant waves engraved into the metal surrounding the lenses.

Argo uses a pair of custom-made forearm crutches to assist in walking. They are made of brass-plated poles with copper handles and matching forearm cuffs. On the ends of the poles are copper covers with rubberized tips to stabilize when the crutches touch the ground. The poles are also carved with intricate wave engravings like the ones on Argo's goggles.

History

To be revealed during Murders of The Past

Events of Criminal Case

Season 4

To be revealed during Murders of The Past

Organization(s)

Concordian Flying Squad

Rank: Detective

Story Information

First appeared: Welcome to Concordia!

Trivia

Argo suffers from Mal de Debarquement, also called "landing sickness," a rare disease which results in a near-constant feeling of motion, even when sitting or standing still. Think of the feeling of standing on a boat rocking in the waves; the rocking or bobbing movement Argo experiences is similar. It also results in a sense of imbalance and vertigo, among other symptoms that he suffers from. Argo has good days and bad ones where his symptoms are better or worse, respectively

He uses his crutches to help keep his balance while walking and standing still

While he can run, he'll only do so if necessary or if someone is with him and can stop him from running into anything or falling over

Despite his condition, Argo loves sailing; he used to sail every chance he got while living in Italy

He talks with his hands like many Italians do. It becomes more animated if he doesn't have his crutches to limit certain movements

He's a musician and singer. He doesn't often perform for others, but those who have heard him will say he's amazing

He's left-handed

He loves the ocean and everything about it. Fish, waves, seashells, beaches… If it's related to the ocean, he loves it

Likewise, he LOVES swimming. Whether for pleasure or sport, he enjoys soaking in the waves

Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames Mega Anime Avatar Creator! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5

Links to my stories:

The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad) Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad) Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad) Murders of The Past (Ao3/Wattpad)

#criminal case #astra's ocs #my ocs #criminal case mysteries of the past

[autumntouched]

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

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

For you @coraphoenix

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

Time to Let Go

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take what off?” 

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

“But I need–.”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right, ready!” Gabby calls. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You heard me,” Gabby sing songs. 

“No!”

“No picture, no watch.” 

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

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

My thoughts on Phoenix:

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

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

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

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

[loominggaia]

What hobbies do the FGG have?

They all have quite a few hobbies! A lot of these have already been featured in the series but there are also some we haven't seen yet.

Evan: Reading (non-fiction). Sports. Collecting souvenirs from around the world. Dancing. Trying exotic foods. Martial arts. Swordsmanship.

Lukas: Drawing and painting. Writing poetry. Gardening. Hunting (with bow and arrow). Playing the ocarina. Tabletop roleplay games (as dungeonmaster). Yoga. Swimming.

Glenvar: Fishing (with pole or traps). Cooking. Whittling sculptures. Drumming. Drinking. Religious rituals. Hair styling. Boating. Breaking stuff.

Alaine: Singing. Songwriting. Playing lute. Dancing. Doing drugs (socially). Partying. Spear-fishing. Conspiracy theories.

Jeimos: Tinkering/inventing gadgets. Reading fiction and comics. Writing fanfiction. Watching movies/plays. Gaming (at arcades). Tabletop roleplay games. Playing piano. Collecting stuffed animals.

Isaac: Exploring new places. Parkour. Bug collecting. Training animals. Reading comics. Playing outdoor games (hide and seek, tag, etc.) Dancing. Bushcraft. Collecting weird rocks.

Linde: Fashion design/tailoring. Making frozen treats. Baking. Jewelry making. Reading gossip magazines. Modeling. Ice sculpting (with magic). Ice skating. Shopping.

Balthazaar: Drinking. Gambling. Sports. Looking at porn. Martial arts. Fancy cigars. Getting tattoos. Horse riding/ranching.

Skel: Cleaning/organizing. Juggling (with telekinesis). Watching high-brow theatre. Levitation. Crossdressing (secretly…). Complaining. Wine tasting. Reading gossip magazines and gossiping in general.

Javaan: Working out. Partying. Dating. Kinky stuff. Drinking. Racing. Treasure hunting. Carpentry.

Elska: Bushcraft. Bounty hunting. Martial arts. Sports. Slaying evil. Hunting (with spears). Organizing stuff.

Mr. Ocean: Spellcrafting. Getting high. Singing. Dancing. Playing sitar. Doing literally anything as long as he's doing it with friends.

Zeffer: Gardening (growing roses in particular). Hunting vampires. Watching movies (mostly crime, horror, and mystery). Watching sports. Bounty hunting. Hide tanning/leatherwork. Skull collecting. Flower arranging.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

#ask #askliterature

[swampgallows]

just finished breaking bad. thoughts (no spoilers):

1. i said it before but i like the many scenes of characters eating. it makes the time and people feel more real rather than when their world exists only while the camera is on, but it also makes me wonder what their shooting schedule was like and what the spit bucket situation was. lots of important daily elements of real life like the school/work-life balance, doing chores, other bodily functions (sleeping, bathroom, having non-superhuman lung capacity, getting sick, etc.) that make the characters and storytelling believable and mortal.

1a. shit made me HUNGRY though. ive had almost exclusively tex mex or egg and hashbrown breakfasts while watching

2. every single car screeches off no matter the scenario. after a while it developed a wilhelm scream effect and made me laugh

3. i would not be able to finish this show if not for jesse. according to my mom he was not supposed to be a permanent character but im glad they kept him in. jesse adds a really important and desperately needed element of humanity and “everyman”-ness. he’s not a savant, he doesn’t have a special gift, he’s a regular guy. shouldering that perspective of “ordinary person directly affected by walt’s actions” onto only skyler’s character would overload her already heavy role; jesse’s character balances things out by providing the audience a window into walt’s world as not only a regular person, but as an active participant. essentially skyler and jesse show two different kinds of “innocence” but remain organically three-dimensional and significant in their own way rather than being defined by their association to walt. their inclusion keeps the story from devolving into a series of guys in suits standing around glaring at each other and speaking in code, which otherwise veers into comic book territory imo.

3a. i fucking loved seeing jesse sporting south pole and volcom. i know tumblr kids are like “oh he wears baggy clothes because he’s trans” or whatever but you need to understand that in the mid 00s that was the absolute cishettiest way a guy could dress. it was the fashion equivalent to axe body spray. if you could even slightly make out the shape of a guy’s torso youd say he was “metrosexual”

4. it was very fun spotting the scenes in the remix. however knowing the original context of the samples definitely changes things lmfao. hank absolutely makes that musical ‘boing’ tone with his mouth and it is only pitch-shifted for the remix; it is captioned as “boom” but by no stretch of the imagination is that reflective of whatever it was he did with his vocal cords. the “you are not the guy” is spoken with near identical cadence and rhythm to the song which caught me so off guard, i could see why it was sampled

5. since i watched mostly with closed captioning, it also displayed song lyrics on screen which helped me better appreciate the songs’ pertinence to the scenes they play in

6. flip phones aside, what really drove home the “late 00s - early 10s” was the one time they played wobble-heavy dubstep while showing off the fancy cars. jesus christ

7. WHY SO MANY LAYERS OF CLOTHING. they will be in the middle of the new mexico desert under the blazing sun and still have a cardigan on

it’s well written and i dont really regret watching it but the suspense/crime/drama genre triad is definitely not my cup of tea. certainly a high quality show though especially in a time before streaming and cinematic-level miniseries were the norm, so i can see why it has such popularity and impact. anyway onto better call saul

#brba #long post /

[menalez]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMNv24bap/

Gender reveal party organized by the father… 😐 if i was her i would dump his disgusting ass

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMNv24bap/

sir what…. i mean they’re mostly doing like pole dance and that’s fine, it’s a difficult skill and sport and all, but…. as a gender reveal? what were the intentions with this one 🤨

[girlactionfigure]

The Good German Officer

Saved the Pianist

Wilhelm Adalbert Hosenfeld was born in Hesse, Germany in 1895 to a pious Catholic family. Charitable activities were a big part of his childhood. He joined the Wandervogel movement, a German wilderness youth group that was a precursor to the hippie movement (Wandervogel was outlawed by Hitler in 1933.) Wilm fought for Germany during World War I and was severely wounded in action. He received the Iron Cross Second Class.

After the war, Wilm got married in a traditional Catholic ceremony and he and his wife, Annemarie, had five children. The family settled in Hunfeld and Wilm worked as a schoolteacher. Annemarie was a pacifist and peace activist who influenced him enormously.  In 1939, when Wilm was 44 years old, Wilm was drafted by Hitler into the Wehrmacht, the German army. Stationed in Poland, he oversaw the building and running of a POW camp. He was moved throughout Poland and finally, in July 1940, where he stayed for the remainder of the war. Wilm had an interesting assignment: he was in charge of sports events at the Warsaw Army Stadium. 

In the 1930’s, Wilm joined the Nazi party, convinced that nationalist policy was the best for Germany. But once he arrived in Poland in 1940 and saw the brutality, he quickly became disillusioned. He read Mein Kampf and was shocked to learn the truth about Hitler’s ideology. 

He was horrified at how his countrymen were treating Poles and Jews. Being German, once a source of pride, felt like an embarrassment. Wilm looked for ways he could be helpful to the victims of his own army’s persecution. The first Jew saved by Wilm was Leon Warm, who’d escaped from a train headed to death camp Treblinka. Wilm procured false identity documents for Warm, and gave him a job in the sports stadium. One day Wilm was riding his bike through the Polish countryside when he saw a pregnant young Jewish woman running in great agitation. He followed and learned that her husband was in a concentration camp. She begged him for help, and he wrote down her husband’s name and promised that he would be home in three days. Nobody knows exactly what transpired, but Wilm kept his promise. Another time, he learned that the brother-in-law of a priest who was active in the Polish resistance was being taken to an extermination camp. Wilm located the truck, flagged it down, and told the S.S. officer that he needed a man for his labor crew. He “randomly” selected the priest’s brother-in-law, saving his life.

After the Warsaw Ghetto uprising in 1943 was brutally suppressed by the Nazis, Wilm wrote “… these animals. With horrible mass murder of the Jews we have lost this war. We have brought an eternal curse upon ourselves and will be forever covered with shame. We have no right for compassion or mercy; we all have a share in the guilt.”

A year after the ghetto uprising was the Warsaw uprising, a well-organized attempt by the Polish resistance to liberate Warsaw from the German occupation. This uprising also was quashed, and all Poles were kicked out of the city. As a German officer, Wilm stayed in Warsaw and encountered an unexpected survivor of the uprising. Wladyslaw Szpillman was a well-known Jewish pianist whose entire family had been deported to Treblinka. Wladyslaw avoided the same fate when the police officer overseeing deportations recognized him and allowed him to escape. The musician took shelter in the bombed-out shell of a building in Warsaw, trying desperately to cling to life despite the lack of food and heat. In November 1944, Wilm encountered Wladyslaw near death and provided the pianist with food, supplies, and safety from arrest. Wilm saved Wladyslaw’s life, enabling the composer’s prolific career composing and performing until his death in 2000 at age 88. Wladyslaw’s story, and Wilm’s crucial role in it, were dramatized in the acclaimed film “The Pianist.”

When the war ended, Wladyslaw was one of only twenty Jews left in Warsaw (before the war, 375,000 Jews lived there, 30% of the population.) Wilm surrendered to the Soviets along with the men he was commanding. Despite his renunciation of Nazism and heroic actions, the Soviets convicted him of war crimes for being a German officer, and sentenced him to 25 years of hard labor. In 1946 he wrote to his wife, begging her to track down the Jews he’d saved and ask them to testify on his behalf. She was able to find Wladyslaw and he agreed to help but unfortunately it did no good. Tragically, Wilm Hosenfeld died in a Soviet POW camp on August 13, 1952 having suffered a ruptured thoracic aorta. Wolf Biermann wrote about Wilm’s sad death: “He had been tortured in captivity… he then suffered several cerebral strokes. By the end he was in a confused state of mind, a beaten child who does not understand the blows. He died with his spirit utterly broken.”

After Wilm’s death, the Szpilman and Warm families advocated for decades for him to be honored as Righteous Among the Nations, and Wilm Hosenfeld finally received that designation in 2008, His children proudly accepted the award on his behalf. 

For following his conscience rather than unjust orders and saving lives, we honor Wilm Hosenfeld as this week’s Thursday Hero.

Accidental Talmudist

#Thursday Hero

[chilljustacat]

@zyana-wyvern tagged me so here I am! Thank you dear!

1. Are you named after anyone? After my grandma I guess. Alice in Wonderland probably had something to do with it too.

2. When was the last time you cried? I can't remember, but I've been close to it several times in the past week (it was hard)

3. Do you have kids? Nope

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Probably yes. Too much even

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? Idk. I guess it's whether their behavior is sincere or they're trying to pretend to be someone they're not

6. What’s your eye colour? Green

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings i guess

8. Any special talents? Certainly not noticing them. Idk, I'm a quick learner and I'm pretty good at organizing and planning (worse at executing lol)

9. Where were you born? Warsaw, Poland

10. What are your hobbies? Computer games, board games, vp, sleeping ❤️

11. Have you any pets? Nope :( But when I can I will have cats. Lots of cats

12. What sports do you play/have played? Currently pole dance and yoga (pretty regularly), sometimes squash and volleyball, but all completely amateurish

13. How tall are you? 163 cm (5'3")

14. Favourite subject in school? History and math

15. Dream job? Actually my current one :) Architecture has been my dream for as long as I can remember and after 10 years I still love it, even though it's completely different from what I imagined, hard and not very well paid. But I can't imagine doing anything else

Tags go to @danyaselmar @hummingbirdsage @jaymber @cyberpunkaddict @mrbrightman

No presure of course!

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

15 Questions

Thanks for the tag Moya!

1. Are you named for anyone?

Technically yes. My middle name is a biblical one, and also my…. Aunt?? Cousin? I’ve met her but I think she’s my dad’s first cousin and I don’t know what that means I am to her.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Like… what type of cry? Sobbed? End of December. Cried? About a week ago. From laughter? Sunday night. My brother was building a clearance gingerbread house and the icing said “made in a nut free facility” and my brother leaned over to me and said “so no men there?” And I lost it. Later he just fucking leaned over and started to hands free eat the house and I lost it again. Just little tears? Last night. I saw an instagram reel and I got misty eyed. I don’t remember what it was about.

3. Do you have kids?

Haha no. I’m not strictly opposed? But I’m not fucking doing that by myself and relationships are real low priority to me.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I used to more. Not so much anymore?

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Mostly what they’re doing. And then if they seem happy or not.

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Honestly neither but I guess happy endings. But not inspiring movies. I fucking hate inspiring movies I spent enough time in church having my emotions manipulated I’m not fucking paying to sit and do it again. Miss me with that shit.

8. Any special talents?

Talent? Uh, I have super flexible shoulders? I guess I would consider my natural aptitude to figure shit out as a talent? Other things I would consider as skills cause I worked for them. So like crafts and my flexibility and writing.

9. Where were you born?

Florida.

10. What are your hobbies?

You don’t have the time to have me list them. And they rotate pretty frequently. But!! I just got a drop spindle and I’m currently obsessed with it. But crafts are definitely a constant. Any craft, I’ve probably tried it once. I’m really not kidding.

11. Have any pets?

Not at the moment. I want rats someday but I’m so busy I wouldn’t be able to give them a good life 😞

12. What sports have you played?

As a child: basketball, soccer, football (like American football lol), tennis, cheerleading.

As an adults I’m pretty active but not really in organized sports. Now I’m doing mostly running, gymnastics, and pole dancing.

13. How tall are you?

5 foot….. 5??? 6???

14. Favorite subject in school?

I honestly liked most of it. I hated geometry tho. One I always wanted to do was Linguistic but alas, FL state law kept me from doing it. 😭 (not that like linguistics specifically is illegal, google excess credit hour laws)

15. Dream job?

Hahahah i don’t even know. I don’t particularly want to work. However I wish I could do animal education at a zoo. I would love that. I would love just answering questions about iguanas.

Oh. Oh wait… my like, dream unbelievable never going to happen job would be an acrobat. Fuck. When I was younger interacting with circus related material like movies or books or even color palets would make my heart hurt. Like sometimes I couldn’t interact with it because it just hurt so much. It’s just so cool and fucking magical and mesmerizing. I loved it. And even at like 15 I thought it was too late for me to ever be a part of that world.

And then when I turned 22 and had a fucking life meltdown, I was watching fucking unus anus and heard Ethan talking about gymnastics and decided to just… try something. And I quickly found out it wasn’t too late?? That I still had a chance to learn and try and experience circus arts??? Now I’ve tried acrobatics and aerial silks and contortion and pole and got on a trapeze once. And now it’s my motivation for how I take care of myself. I have to eat food and move my body and take care of myself. I have to because if I don’t I’ll never be able to try lyra/aerial hoop. I gotta keep going because I’ve got pole on Wednesday and I’m so close to the body spiral.

When I get emotionally low I remind myself I gotta keep going so I can get back to my circus arts.

(Please note I know circus haven’t always been good and nice and happy places. I get it. I know. I’m not talking about that)

Tagging! @as-a-matter-of-whump @brutal-nemesis @cowboy-anon @i-can-even-burn-salad @jordanstrophe @just-a-silly-little-whumper @milk-carton-whump @poopraven @quietly-by-myself @redstainedsocks @susiequaz12 @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort @ziptiesnfries @tearyvictim @

#tag game #about the raccoon #I haven’t used that tag in so long! #I just forget it’s there!

[dailycharacteroption]

Races Among the Stars 6: Ilthisarian

They say that history repeats itself if the incautious forget it. However, the inhabitants of the planet Arshalin do not have that problem, for the terrors of their history loom over the horizon of their world as a constant reminder.

Whether it was the ilthisarians themselves who built it or some unknown spacefaring people, a great space station of colossal size broke apart and crashed onto their world, leaving massive hunks so large they dwarfed the mountain ranges and cut off entire ecologies, leaving them to evolve separately and leave scholars wondering how life flourishes on the world now.

Either way, whether they are descendants of native life forms or the makers of the station whose fragments now are a part of the landscape, the ilthisarians believe in a philosophy of tradition and caution, approaching new ideas hesitantly, though not shutting their hearts to new and strange ideas entirely.

 This focus on caution and contingencies is even reflected in their biology, for ilthisarians resemble large serpentine creatures moving on a powerful tail with a split tip. They sport two strong arms and hands, and thick reptilian scales. They also sport a cluster of smaller snake-like necks and heads surrounding their main, reptilian cranium, giving them the appearance of a brawny, more bestial medusa. Additionally, they sport several redundant internal organs, letting them survive grievous injuries that would fell many other life forms.

 Focused as they are on tradition and upon stability, the ilthisarians enjoy a relatively calm existence on their world, steadily progressing and developing their culture along sure paths with only their scientists pushing the envelope at a comparatively sluggish pace compared to the fantastical science of other species. This caution also means they seen no need to expand into a region or conquer it for it’s own sake, instead being primarily resource-driven.

They also seem to act as stewards to another sapient race on their world, the bestial ethesks. Though not much details are given on them, they seem at least partially genetically engineered, though there appear to be populations that exist free, particularly near the south pole of their world, which harbors ruins to ancient reptilian gods long abandoned by the ilthisarians, who are mostly non-religious in the modern era, forgoing brutal bloodthirsty gods for the likes of Abadar and other gods of civilization and protection, when they follow a deity at all.

While their homeworld has many dangers and mysteries, the ilthisarians have little interest in solving them anytime soon, and in fact it is rare to see their kind spacefaring, though they are perfectly capable of doing so, such travellers having a goal in mind or perhaps being oddities among the cautious reptiles.

 Strong and intelligent, ilthisarians are quite used to making use of their strength and size, though their stubborn nature makes them somewhat vexing.

Whether it be their claws, their tail, or the many fanged mouths surrounding their core head, these reptilian beings are always armed, though such weapons pale in comparison to modern weapons.

Their redundant vitals also protect them from grievous injury, though obviously this is not perfect. They are also well-inured to poisons due to their marshland home biome.

That same marshy home also means they are well-adapted to moving in water and muck as well.

 With their strength and intelligence, martial classes like soldier, vanguard, solarians are common career choices for them, as are technomancers and mechanics (particularly exocortex mechanics that focus on melee weaponry). Their species history of bioengineering also makes them capable biohackers, and plenty of them may embrace the path of the evolutionist or nanocyte if the process can at least be controlled somewhat. Their large size might make operative an odd choice, as does the improvisational nature of the envoy, but they can make up for this by focusing on the more skillful and less stealthy sides of those classes. Though not religious, they also can make capable mystics, as well as precogs or witchwarpers, the former seeking the safest path to the future, while the latter focusing on alternate worlds that are more stable than the present.

 That about does it for today, but I hope this glimpse sparks you interest in these mighty serpents!

#starfinder #race #ilthisarian #The Thirteenth Gate