Jake loves the tattoos that adorn Bradley's body.
The origami birds that take flight across his shoulder-blades. A goose, a swan, with a rooster gazing up at them.
The stark lines of the missing man formation of four F-14's, three shooting across his chest, with the fourth arcing up to rest over his heart.
No matter how many times Jake's fingers trace the aged lines of the B-25 Mitchell that rests in the crook of his elbow, Bradley won't explain the choice, only murmurs about it being his first, and that he is going to have it covered up.
He never does. But Jake's favourite, the one his fingers can't stay away from, is the little incomplete hangman figure he comes home with after his last deployment. Five months they spent apart. Five months new ink has been carried on Bradley's hip without Jake's knowledge and investigation. Five months where the spot Jake's hand rests as they settle to sleep has had seven empty spaces for letters. Five months Bradley has waited to play, Sharpie in hand. Counting the dashes, and even taking note of them being split into groups of 5 and 2, Jake still has to try his callsign first. "H" "Not your callsign you egotistical shit." Bradley added a frown on the blank face. "A" _A___ __ "J" "Nope." "K" "Are you using your name now?" "Yes." "No. A leg and two eyes added to the tattoo later, Jake is staring more intently at Bradley's hip than he has at any Bandit and then it dawns on him. MA__Y M_
The smile that stretches across his face hurts. It aches in the best way as he looks up at Bradley, the other pilot's gaze intent on him and not the artwork. "Yes." "That's not a letter." "Still my answer." Plucking the pen from Bradley's unresisting fingers, Jake fills in the missing Rs and the Y, before adding a big YES across Bradley's lower belly.
God please tell me musk didn't do the Nazi salute in live tv today
Please tell me this is a goddamn prank i can't handle this
He what
Gay people will develop mental issues and make AT LEAST one of these movies their whole personality
do you ever feel like yay!!! .. and yippee!! .. yahoo!!! ..but then you feel urgh ..... urghhhjjhggh ...... uurghghjjjggkghgghhg urghhhh .....
When they're both predator :
My brain : Greaaaaaat
People think that 457 is a predator/prey ship, but it's not.
It's persistence predator / ambush predator.
Proof:
Robert Smithson: Spiral Jetty (1970) location: Rozel Point, Great Salt Lake, Utah
adhd paralysis sucks bcuz im just sitting there and my brain is like
YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME
no work done no rest gained. literally no point of this at all
Pornbots are so annoying like I’m not gonna fall for this I’m not an idiot I know sex isn’t real and its just something made up for destiel fanfiction
is this a safe space to say i dont care if fedex is hiring? i dont care if sitting at home verifying orders? good pay 2025? i dont care. and i wont care in five posts either.
I was sorting out my old notbooks, and I found a copy of my 10th year play (Iwas in theatre class) and I found out the name of the author was Tiago Rodrigues .
Anyway my current James Bond hyperfixation was startled and it's been going wild in my brain since a week
So I think I should write a theatre play, whose name would be : of the inherent homoeroticism of performative masculinity action movies
But do I have the motivation ? No. So it will stay at this format.
The all mighty monarch of lasagna queen of potatoes and king of the universe here to watch the drama and make weird noises in my corner also I first go here cuz ao3 shutdown 1 time and I join... you can see the vibe
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