#Douglass Cross

[skellyuniverse]

*Sigh* I am new to the fandom publically. I got back, seriously, into my obsession over Henry Stickmin. And I am finally brave enough to post stuff about it. And best way should be by doing the #Stickmintober chart. Am I late? Yes. Do I care? Nope! I did stuff all the way up to 9th of October and more will come. Now to be clear. This is all in MS Paint. I NEVER drew humans before and I never shaded before. All I am capable of using for my art is Paint and a bit of Gimp. So... don't devour me. 1. This one, like many other, include a character I made. After messing a little with Character AIs I got to write quite a roleplay and story within the THSC universe. I titled it "Facing the Future". Which... is pretty generic type of idea where we see kids of various ships. Here I introduce Charlie Stickmin! A Rosemin kid (she has a brother). Why lavender hair? Idk it looked cool and unique. I won't talk about her as much in detail unless someone asks. 2. More kids from Facing the Future. This time as Toppats (Noramlly neither of them is a Toppat in the story. The clan was taken down and all members are either reformed, dead or jailed) 3. Charles the uncle! This is Ellry (might change the name someday). Younger brother of Charlie. Charles in this story is super attached and close to Henry and Ellie's little family. In this story he's also Aro-Ace (cry about it) 4. Curtisson! What more do I say? 5. Earrings appreciation time. In my story she is Sven's older sister. 6. Why Mr. Teal? I got attached. I love Teal and Cyan and can never tell them apart either. And I use him as a background and situational Toppat in the story lo 7. Oh ho? Who is Carol Cross with that she has a son? (and not one) Who can guess can win a virtual cookie lol. 8. Not the kind of Panprice one would wish for. But cool eh? 9. Ha ha AUs. I once had a dream where the characters were animals and just lived in the jungle where the Orbital Station would be. I don't have as much plot for it but if you want more characters in animal form you may request... I guess?

[automaticheartcrusade]

No because am I the only Hatchetfield fan who’s still not over that massive lore dump that was revealed during the Halloween stream where they casually drop the fact that Duke Keane’s dad was murdered by Wilbur Cross in 2005? And also say that Duke’s dad was the sheriff of Hatchetfield? Because good GOD I need elaboration, I need to know what happened. What if that’s how Wilbur Cross and Miss Holloway collided in the first place, because she confronted him about killing Duke’s dad. And the fact that SO much shit went down in 2005 like I’m praying for the day they show us everything that happened that year wether it be a flashback on stage if it’s possible or in Nightmare Time cause I can’t take hearing about events anymore, I want to see it happen in real time, which of course again all depends on budget and what’s possible ect but still, crossing my fingers!

[wexhappyxfew]

Oooh, those prompts sure do look amazing… the touch one??? I’m so unsure on which one I might be in a crisis….

Soo… after muuuch deliberation, may ask about nr. 17 (holding the other’s chin up) with my girl Carrie? (I have to stay loyal to her, though I love all the other Silver Bullets girls equally)

Thank you 💖

- Carrie anon

carrie anon my apologies for how incredibly late this is (along with the other prompts sitting in the askbox lol) finals season will forever be a struggle lmao. BUT! i'm taking a mental break and here we are with a piece for my beans, carrie x dougie, carrie anon!! :D VERY excited to post this, we get a bit more with carrie's feelings as she's pretty good at hiding them (but not great with hiding them lol). so please enjoy!!

bergie doesn't strike out

(a/n): for the carrie x dougie girlies because this prompt i enjoyed and i figured i'd add some more to carrie's background - a struggle to fit in, to feel wanted, in a time of war. yeah, she's going through it to say the least and in some way, we all can get why :'( please enjoy!

Carrie watched from behind her shot glass as James Douglass waltzed over to the congregating group of Clubmobile girls and talked his talk, pulling out his lighter and offering to light up cigarettes, only before making quite the show of winking and meandering away back towards where he had been previously stood with Hambone and Murphy. She watched him let out a barking laugh before pointing to their cups and nodding to the bar. And that's when he started waltzing over to the bar, where she was stood, rather enjoying her stare-down with her shot glass instead of having to focus on him.

"Carrie Achterbeg, haven't seen you in a minute." she heard him say as he approached - which albeit was the truth. She hadn't come out to one of these in a couple of weeks. After that awkward misunderstanding with one of the guys from the 418th - radio operator, kind eyes, but horrible ego - after he had tried to plant one on her, she didn't want anything to do with the flying club, drinks and pilots. Tonight though was different. And after those last few missions, she needed some sort of melancholy distraction, even if it were a shot or two stood alone at the bar.

"Aren't you a sight for sore ey-" Carrie glanced over at James Douglass and shoved him in the shoulder roughly before throwing back her shot and sighing.

"Don't finish that sentence." she managed out, coughing briefly and then looked at him.

"Dually noted." Dougie said, before leaning up on the bar next to her and watching the side of her face, "What's eating you?" Carrie let out a dry laugh and looked over at him.

"I should be asking you the same thing," she said, before lowering your voice, "struck out, huh?" Dougie raised a brow in her direction and she nodded over his shoulder.

"Tatty, Helen, Virginia…." Carrie said, "Christ, Dougie, you struck out and you struck out hard." Dougie rolled his eyes and leaned more against the bar and nodded to the tender.

"Struck out is a strong word to use in that sense-"

"Sure as hell is currently the right word-"

"There's other words-"

"Struck out is as good as it comes." Carrie said to him and he took the beer from the tender and sighed, before taking a long sip. She watched him for a moment, biting the inside of her lip and then glanced back at her empty shot glass.

She was just punchy, she wasn't in the best of moods, and James Douglass was beginning to grow on her in ways she hadn't expected nor entirely wanted. And her mind was trying to ignore it.

"Why haven't you been coming recently?" Dougie asked her as he casually sipped on his beer, eyes wandering out to the dance floor and then back to her, before grinning wide, "Hambone's been missing ya." Carrie sighed and then stood up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears and glanced at him.

"Personal choice." she said and then shrugged as she looked out towards the dance floor again, "You missing me, too? You seemed real tangled up with those guys over there. Surprised you came over to say hello." She raised a brow at him and he shrugged her off. Watching him, she then turned, only to be stopped by his arm jutting out.

"Where you going?"

"Just taking a lap around," she said with a shrug, "talk to some people I haven't seen before, ya know, get eyes on everyone." He watched her, a mixture of adornment it seemed and surprise, as she straightened her jacket and then looked at him.

"Everything look good?" she asked him, holding out her arms like she was about to go off on her first day at school and wanted her uniform in check. Dougie held her gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wash down her form and then back up to her face again. Carrie watched him, her collar turning hot as he took a slow sip and let his eyes rest on hers again, that lazy smile growing on his face as he nodded.

"Good is a strong word-"

"Dougie, don't you dare." Carrie muttered, a small smile growing on her face as she shoved at his shoulder, and repositioned herself, hands on her hips and sighed, "Seriously." For a moment, they just watched each other and it should've felt awkward, but in all actuality - it wasn't. And knowing that he was looking at her that fondly almost made her want to stay and talk to him more. But she wasn't like that it seemed.

"You look great," Dougie said, his voice strained as he nodded, "don't let none of those fools do anything funny, alright?" Now, it was Carrie's turn to let out a laugh and raise her brow.

"Since when did you care?" she asked quickly, crossing her arms, "'Cause three weeks ago, I had that stupid radio operator from the 418th practically down my throat and you barely batted an eye." A few onlookers glanced towards the two and it took Carrie a few moments to recognize how loud she had gotten and suddenly emotional in her words. And why did she care if Dougie had barely batted an eye? He shouldn't have needed to. They weren't technically even friends, just a joke or two here and there, some teasing and good-natured tomfoolery, but nothing more. Why did she care that he should care? Carrie sighed. Dougie looked up at her with those big, slightly worried eyes and bit back his lip before nodding.

"Well, now that you've made me aware of that, maybe I will bat an eye next time." Dougie said, looking up at her as his fingers danced against the cool mug of beer, "Who the hell was it?" Carrie stared at him and then blinked slowly.

"It doesn't matter-"

"That's why you didn't come-"

"Dougie-"

"Because he had-"

"Dougie." Carrie said, stepping closer to him, and holding his gaze right in her own, her hand ghosting over his arm as if to latch onto him, but failing to do so, "Let it go. It's over now."

"You brought it up." Dougie said back quickly, but she stopped him with a shake of the head. But then she stood quiet for a moment and let her thoughts grow. She had brought it up. Almost as if she had wanted him to know. Because no one had known. Because she'd been embarrassed that she let herself think that maybe that was a good guy, someone she could live a life with and all he had wanted was a kiss. It was a stupid thought.

"Who was it, Carrie, seriously?" Dougie asked her as she balled up her fists and looked anywhere but his face, which she knew had a look on it that would make her lose it, "A guy from the 418th, huh? He ever heard about a thing called messing with the bull, you damn well be getting the horns-"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Carrie muttered, bringing a finger in front of her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes, "He was just some jackass that thought I was there to have a good time and that was it." Dougie grew quiet as he watched her. Whatever it was between them seemed to simmer and they both seemed to understand in that minute what she meant. But she wouldn't dare actually say why she had even bothered kissing the guy, or why Dougie was looking at her like that.

"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Dougie said, his voice softer than it normally was, that look in his eye deeper and darker, "I know a guy-"

"No." Carrie said, her cheeks scarlet, "It was just a stupid kiss, that's it. It's over. I just….I was trying to avoid the situation again and…." She trailed off. She was over talking about it to be completely honest. She looked up at him.

"I'm fine." she said with an honest nod, "Thank you for your…..concern." Dougie watched her, with a slow nod and licked his lips, like he was still digesting her words in their entirety. He didn't say much, he just watched her and she didn't entirely want to complain about that because for one, his eyes were some of the kindness she'd probably seen on this side of the world. And for once, they were eyes that looked at her in a way other guys didn't.

"Just…go have some fun," Dougie said quietly, "give me a look if a guy does something stupid, alright?" And she nodded and looked up at him, as he smiled softly at her, his eyes darting over her own endless blue ones, an abyss of dampened sea and darkened souls. Lost and harrowing. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.

"Don't strike out." he said with a small chuckle and she looked up at him and brought her pointer finger underneath his chin and prodded him lightly to meet her gaze, before whispering back just as quietly.

"Bergie doesn't strike out."

[winniemaywebber]

18. bitter dark chocolate for olive?

hi doll! thanks so much for this. it was so fun 🥺

prompt is from this list - inbox is still open! let's have a Sunday sleepover too 🤭

blurb under the cut to save space!

“Please let us come with you!” Both Olive and Val stand by the Red Cross Clubmobile, clutching the ration bags the boys had asked them to put together. A treat of donuts and candy bars was packaged within them, the girls placing them safely next to the truck before commandeering two oversized flight suits that hung on them sloppily, the pair of them giggling all the while.

“No!” The boys were stern, yet smiling.

“Why?!” Both girls complain, hoping that making puppy eyes at their men will somehow persuade them into letting them come along for the ride to feed the Dutch.

“What if the Krauts decide against honoring the truce and we're hit with a ton of flak? What then?”

“Dougie, please!” Olive begs. “We wanna help! Look, we even dressed up!”

“I don't care how cute you look, my girl. I'll close my eyes and keep saying no if I have to.”

She gasps. “So it is working!”

“Yes,” he says, keeping to his word and squeezing his eyes shut.

Valencia does the same to Everett, pouting in order to get her way. She is also unsuccessful, Ev guffawing at her efforts to persuade him. Val walks back over to Olive with a huff, hands in the pockets of the oversized flight suit.

“We're grounded, chickie,” she sighs, her hand now out of the pocket and lighting a cigarette.

“Literally or figuratively?” Olive cackles, taking the cigarette from her friend and dragging on it.

She winks, taking the cigarette back. “Both!”

Ev and Dougie have moved aside to confer; Olive hears Dougie practically beg to have the girls go with them.

“Come on, Ev, think of how fun it'll be!”

“What won't be fun is explaining to Smokey how the best Red Cross Girls in Europe are smattered with flak holes. No, thank you. We can't, it's too dangerous. Do you really wanna put Olive at risk just for some fun? Because I sure as shit don't wanna risk it for Val.”

“Ugh, fine. You're right. You're telling them though!”

***

After kissing their men goodbye, hoping and praying to whoever would listen that the truce would be honored, the girls retire to their hut for a mid-afternoon nap. Val is carrying one of the bags they had packed in the truck, and pulls out one of the D-Bars.

“You know, Ol, the whole time you've been here, I've never seen you eat a candy bar.”

“None of them are to my liking - I like bitter, dark chocolate. Whatever that is,” she says, grimacing, “will be far too sweet for me.”

“Go on,” she teases. “Just to say I've seen you do it!”

“Fine!” Olive huffs, taking the bar from her friend. “Only because it's you!”

[istandonsnowpiles]

10 20 Favorite Photos of 2024

For me, in the world of photography, last year was all about growth. I got new gear (mainly my Fujifilm X-T5), expanded my photography to full spectrum, and worked to incorporate photography into my life in new ways.

Looking back, it's hard to believe I took all of these photos in one year. I'll put together some stats in another post.

What's included?

I had to narrow down my selections a lot. Only photos I feel comfortable sharing with everyone are here. I took lots of photos of friends and family this year that are not included. However, those were some of my favorite photos, if I took any of you, you know who you are.

Photos are in roughly chronological order.

Check the Flickr link on each photo for full quality.

1. Out over the Suburbs

Location: Tysons Metro, Tysons, Virginia Camera: Fujifilm X-T2 Lens: Viltrox 27mm f/1.2 Settings: 1/80 sec, f/4, ISO 640

I absolute love the gloomy, dystopian vibe of this blue hour photo. The Tysons metro is such a bustling little outpost in NoVa. This feels a little cyberpunk, a little noir, a little [GX]Ace. I'll absolutely be striving to shoot more like this in 2025.

2. Awe

Location: Penn's Landing, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Camera: Fujifilm X-T2 Lens: Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 Settings: 1/240 sec, f/1.4, ISO 200

This was such a memorable trip to Philly. @dykedotexe and I got to run around in the fog all night, taking pics, and exploring. The city was beautiful. It was my first time in Philly and I want to go back so bad!

3. Typical Van Life Camping Spot

Location: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Camera: Fujifilm X-T2 Lens: @dykedotexe's Fujifilm 23mm f/2 Settings: 1/80 sec, f/2.8, ISO 5000

Photographers tend to recommend trying to get high up, to find a new perspective on a place. I've taken to going up any parking garage I can get access to. This night in Philly, it was a fantastic strategy. It was hard to pick a favorite photo from this rooftop. This crunchy, silly pic came out on top.

4. Sunsets in Ordinary Places

Location: Springfield, Virginia Camera: Fujifilm X-H1 Lens: Fujifilm 50-140mm f/2.8 Settings: 50mm, 1/240 sec, f/2.8, ISO 200

Again in a parking garage, but a bit more empty than in Philly. I found myself in this weird spot mostly cause I was bored one day. I took the train out to the end of the Blue line and wandered a bit. I ended up here on a cold, blustery day at sunset. And of course, it was a gorgeous one.

5. Winners

Location: PPG Paints Arena, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Camera: Sony RX100 VII Settings: 72mm, 1/1250 sec, f/4.5, ISO 2500

I can't lie, I'm a Montreal fan. So, when Toronto won this game in the PWHL's on-the-road series in Pittsburgh, I was a bit disappointed. However, seeing Campbell and Carly Jackson was fantastic. This was also my first time renting a camera. I wanted something small that security wouldn't bother me about, the Sony RX100 fit the bill. I didn't love a lot of the photos that came out of that camera. Even this isn't a truly great photo. But, it got the job done and I loved seeing some professional women's hockey with my family.

6. Criss Cross

Location: Southwest, Washington, DC Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 Lens: Fujifilm 70-300mm f/4-5.6 Settings: 300mm, 1/450mm, f/5.6, ISO 2500

The new Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge in DC is gorgeous. One of my favorite subjects. Here, captured at dusk, it looked truly marvelous. I was trying out a new lens, on a fairly new camera. I was very impressed with the results! The geometry here really works for me.

7. The Great American Eclipse, Cloud Halo

Location: Saint Albans Bay Town Park, Saint Albans, Vermont Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 Lens: Fujifilm 70-300mm f/4-5.6 + Solar Filter made by @lesbianredpanda Settings: 1/25 sec, f/8, ISO 500

This was my first time seeing a total solar eclipse. Four of us travelled up to Vermont to get a good view, scouted out locations, and ended up in a small town park for the day. It lived up to the hype and was absolutely worth the time and the trip. Would 100% do it again. Even with a bit of cloud cover (causing the cloud ring around the outside), the eclipse was stunning.

8. No Trains Today

Location: Harper's Ferry Train Station, Harper's Ferry, West Virginia Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 Lens: Fujifilm 16-55mm f/2.8 Settings: 55mm, 1/75 sec, f/5, ISO 250

Last year I really got into riding my bike. I've ridden it for commuting for years, but last year I got into riding longer distances, road and gravel, for fun. It's been a blast and it's been incredibly difficult. It inspired me to get a gravel bike. My biggest accomplishment for the year was riding from Harper's Ferry, WV along to C&O Canal Trail back to DC over a long weekend. It's the longest ride I've done, and I did it on my trusty Gazelle Arroyo. This year, I'd like to do the same ride on my gravel bike, and hopefully something even longer!

9. Bubble Bike Party

Location: Cardozo, Washington, DC Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 Lens: Fujifilm 56mm f/1.2 Settings: 1/250 sec, f/1.2, ISO 5000

You should check to see if your city has a Bike Party or Critical Mass ride. They're fun, party pace, chill rides. Stops in the middle for a party. This is the pride ride for June & represents so much for me. I got to ride this with everyone that I've convinced to get their own bike. And happened to land this fun photo of the party along the way!

10. The Sears Tower

Location: The Loop, Chicago, Illinois Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 Lens: Fujifilm 16-55mm f/2.8 Settings: 55mm, 1/125 sec, f/2.8, ISO 250

Chicago is awesome. This was my first trip over there, and while I did get sick as soon as I got there, I had an awesome time wandering the city. This rainy night was my favorite. Big towers, quiet streets, it felt like a playground. I can't wait to come back. This moody pic really captures the qualities I love about blue hour in cities.

11. Northern Chicago from 1,000 Feet

Location: Chicago 360, Chicago, Illinois Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 (Full Spectrum Converted) Lens: Fujifilm 16-55mm f/2.8 Settings: IR Chrome Filter, 1/75mm, f/4.5, ISO 320

This photo, taken from the observation level of the mega tourist-y Chicago 360 building, proved to me that digital IR Chrome is super cool and something I should try more. I've loved IR photography for a while. This wasn't my first IR Chrome shot ever, but it's the one I finally started to get the famous red color. It made me want to shoot IR Chrome soooo much more!

12. Big Sky Manhattan

Location: The Edge, Manhattan, New York Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 Lens: Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 Settings: 1/90 sec, f/5.6, ISO 250

Right after my vacation in Chicago, work sent me to New York. I was still under the weather but after my positive observation deck experience in Chicago, I figured I would try the same in Manhattan. I ended up at the top of the city during a beautiful sunset. It was a fantastic time and truly beautiful.

13. Muffler Max

Location: Penn-Fallsway, Baltimore, Maryland Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 Lens: Fujifilm 56mm f/1.2 Settings: 1/200 sec, f/4, ISO 125

I really need to get to Baltimore more often. It's an easy 1 hour train ride from DC, any day of the week, for under like $30 round trip. I ended up there on a weekend where I was bored. It was raining and overcast all day. But, bad weather usually means good photos. I had a great time walking around. Can't wait to get back and see more of the city.

14. Danger: Chlorine

Location: Sideling Hill Rest Stop, Hancock, Maryland Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 (Full Spectrum Converted) Lens: Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 Settings: IR Chrome Filter, 1/220 sec, f/2, ISO 125

Took this shot at a rest stop off the highway on the way home from a camping trip. It's the one that convinced me I'm starting to get the editing of IR Chrome photos down. This unremarkable shed nestled in leaves looks truly extraordinary in IR Chrome.

15. Nats Game (Square)

Location: Navy Yard, Washington, DC Camera: Panasonic S5 II Lens: Sigma 50mm f/2 Contemporary Settings: 1/60 sec, f/5, ISO 2000

My second experience renting a camera, I was a little concerned taking gear I didn't own out in the rain. But, it was worth it. The Panasonic S5 II is an excellent camera and there are clear benefits over the Fujifilm X-T5. However, the differences aren't large enough for me to switch systems for them yet. Maybe when Panasonic releases a high resolution version of the S5 II? Either way, I got this excellent street photo at Nats Park!

16. Milky Way & so much more

Location: Sky Meadows State Park, Delaplane, Virginia Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 (Full Spectrum Converted) Lens: Viltrox 13mm f/1.4 Settings: 13 sec, f/2.8, ISO 1600

If I've learned one thing over the years in photography, it's that Astro photography is incredibly difficult. I'm no pro and have difficulty editing these photos each time. I had fun with this full spectrum milky way shot, but I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing 😅

17. Normal Sunrise

Location: Las Vegas, Nevada Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 (Full Spectrum Converted) Lens: Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 Settings: Hot Mirror Filter (visible light only), 1/60 sec, f/2, ISO 125

I went to Las Vegas for a work conference. While I was aware of The Sphere, I don't think I had really internalized it as a thing that excited until I saw it in person. It is truly a ridiculous piece of engineering and architecture. It's completely unnecessary, an eye sore, and makes the experience of being in Las Vegas worse. So, it's perfect for Las Vegas. This photo (and its IR Chrome alter ego) have cemented it into me that I truly love to hate The Sphere.

18. Monorail Bends

Location: Las Vegas, Nevada Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 (Full Spectrum Converted) Lens: Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 Settings: Hot Mirror Filter (visible light only), 1/210 sec, f/5, ISO 125

This monorail in Vegas is not good transit. Yet, it brought me to all the conference locations I needed to get to. It's annoying to ride, out of the way, dark, loud, and slow. But, it works. And it sured looked great at sunrise.

19. Desert Ocean

Location: I-15 outside of Las Vegas, Nevada Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 (Full Spectrum Converted) Lens: Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 Settings: Hot Mirror Filter (visible light only), 1/3 sec, f/1.4, ISO 6400

Sometimes you take the coolest shots at an empty, desert highway exit, from the roof of a rental car. This funky abstract captures the vibe of the middle of the desert in a fantastic way.

20. River to Watchman

Location: Zion National Park, Utah Camera: Fujifilm X-T5 (Full Spectrum Converted) Lens: Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 Settings: Hot Mirror Filter (visible light only), 1/110 sec, f/5, ISO 125

Holy cow is Zion National Park beautiful. I'm so happy I got a chance to go here. I only got a few hours in the park, but I was stunned the whole time. It's just unfathomably gorgeous. I have to go back an I think this photo manages to capture my experience of sunset in that park.

I'll be back soon with some more breakdowns of my 2024!

[gloryofroses19]

Johnny Boy

“Let’s go, let’s go. Get the lead out boys!” Major John Egan ordered as he clapped his hands together.  

“Excited to see Harding that much, Major?” Ken Lemmings asked rhetorically, parking his jeep. 

“More like a certain lieutenant.” Blakey commented, lighting a cigarette.  “All I heard on the flight back was [y/n] this and [y/n] that. Almost as if we weren’t staring down the face of Nazi fighters.” 

Coming up behind Blakey, Douglass slapped Blakey on the back.  “Don’t be too jealous Blakey, maybe Tatty will forgive you for saying her sister is prettier.” 

“It was a joke!” 

“Jokes are meant to be funny, Ev.” Crosby deadpanned from his place on the ground. 

“Get in the truck, boys! This war ain’t gonna stop because of your romantic problems.” John Egan was not known for being a patient man. And at this moment, his patience was as thin as his fort’s wings, which were currently shot to shit thanks to the Luftwaffe.  

“You know all about romance, right Major?”  

With an eye roll, the Major squared his shoulders ready to yell at his men. However, his irritated expression softened as he watched two figures coming his way.

Noticing the attentive blue eyed gaze across the field, [y/n] smiled as she drew nearer. She had not planned to visit the airfield today. Despite knowing that the 100th Bomb Group would be out flying, she had intended to stay in her office. But when Johnny asked, with a hopeful request and a sweet smile, she knew she couldn’t say no. She seemed to have soft spots for Johns she mused, as a pair of small hands tightened their grip on her right hand. 

“She read me a book and colored with me!” 

Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the British voice informing him of how he was losing the battle for [y/n]’s attention. Six year old Johnny Baker was as formidable as the Germans,  the blonde had met Lieutenant [full name] on his first day moving to base and imprinted on her like any good duckling would. 

“And she said that she’ll watch me play footy!” 

However, Major John Egan was a flyboy and they were not so easily defeated. Crouching down to be eye-level with rival, the major crossed his arms. “Well, she told me I’m clever, funny and..." With a dramatic pause, he continued, "and handsome.” 

Stomping his foot at his competitor, the blonde took on a tone of conceited immaturity. “Well she told me that I give the best hugs!” 

“Well,” John mimicked, “She kissed me.” And with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Bucky added in a lyrical voice, “On the lips.” 

With a gasp and whine of her name, the blonde buried his face into [y/n]’s stomach as her hands patted his back comfortingly . 

“Are you really arguing with a child?” She asked sternly, as John stood up. “Again?” She pressed, restraining the grin trying to surface at his easy smile. The times she had found them competing for her affection were becoming too numerous to count. Just last week, she had to kiss him better when he scraped his knee racing Johnny across the blacktop of the airfield.  She was thankful he was kind enough to let her kiss his lips instead of his bloodied knee. 

“No, I’m not arguing with a child.” John watched Johnny stick his tongue out at him, “He’s arguing with me.” With a chuckle, he mirrored the action back at Johnny.  

Alive and as charming and tenacious as ever she reflected, assessing his wellbeing . The weight of the war had become harder to bear on their shared tree branch as more flyboys left and didn’t come back. She hadn’t realized her breath had been stalled in fear of his safety until she felt herself lose it again by his adoring look. 

John ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the evaluating look on her face “So where’s my reason?” 

“Where’s my souvenir?” She responded, meeting his unwavering gaze. It had become their greeting, a promise of a gift that kept them both grounded.

Removing his head from her stomach, Johnny looked up. A pout sprouted on his lips as the adults seemingly ignored him, focusing instead on making what his big cousin Susie called “googly eyes”. With a tug to her hand, Johnny whined. “[nickname]!” 

John watched as [y/n] turned her attention to the baby duck calling her name. The blonde’s hair had become ruffled as feathers from his fight for her attention and John knew like any mama bird she would fix it. However, she wasn’t a duck, she was a different bird. His bird to be exact so the only hair she would be fixing would be his curls. Therefore, before her raised hand could fix the strays, an Army Air Corps Officer cap covered Johnny's head. 

Taking advantage of his enemy’s distraction, John’s hand gripped [y/n]’s face and momentarily brushed his lips against hers. While a moment on the lips, it spoke of tenderness, love and promise for more. 

“Hey!” Removing the cap from his head, Johnny glared at the taller male who seemed wholly unperturbed.  

“What?” The innocence in his smile and tone betrayed the mischief inside. The bashful smile he sent her all but confirmed [y/n]'s suspicions. That he did always love when she ran her hands through his curls. And that he was jealous, even of a child. 

“Interrogation, Egan!” 

Bucky sighed theatrically at the commanding voice behind him. Though the sigh was a sign of acknowledgement, he made no move to leave. If anything it made him more resolute. 

“Jack,” Facing his fellow major, John motioned toward the pair at his side, “The good lieutenant and this fine soldier need a ride back to the HQ.”

Major Jack Kidd could use many adjectives to describe John Egan, however, since becoming Air Exec the most he would offer was 'a royal pain in my ass'. “Now, John!” 

Though Kidd didn’t seem to be moved, John pressed on. “We can’t just leave them, Jack.” 

Biting her lip, [y/n] attempted to maintain a neutral expression. His baritone voice was as pleasant as ever, but the tone of pleading reminded her of times when he pleaded for other things. Some which he had no shame in doing in front of other people, like a dance or smile, and some that were reserved for just the two of them, like a kiss and other intimate notions. 

Turning towards the gentle tug on his sheepskin’s sleeve, John leaned down. 

“Can we ride in the truck?” Johnny whispered poorly, allowing those close enough to hear. 

“If you look sad you can.” John replied conspiratorially, enjoying the giggle it elicited from [y/n] who’s attention had been off him for far too long. 

“Get in the truck, Egan.”  Though Kidd offered John a look of utter lack of amusement, he sighed.  One day he’ll learn to not wipe John’s ass, Jack promised himself.  “You too,” he finished gesturing toward the pair.

Breaking out into a wide smile, John’s hands wrapped around [y/n] and Johnny’s shoulders. Guiding them to the awaiting truck, John pulled himself into the truck bed first. With his attention on Johnny, John offered instructions where to put his feet and hands to safely enter the truck all the while, his hands gently hovering his smaller body to offer assistance if needed. 

Unbeknownst, [y/n]’s expression was soft in a way she only ever let it be around John. War was not the time to think of a future full of little feet and miniature giggles, but John Egan was a man who inspired hope. 

“Need help, Lieutenant?” A deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts.  Though capable and confident, [y/n] took the calloused hand that was offered to her. Allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of the sheepskin, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. 

“Think Cros can take him?” He whispered, nodding to the navigator currently being interrogated by the Brit. 

With a laugh, she guided John by the hand to his rightful place next to her on the truck's bench. Bumping her nose against his, she whispered, “You certainly weren’t.” 

John laughed gently and easily as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before taking her hand in his again. Pulling her as close as they could, he leaned into her ear. Planning to defend himself, the pilot opened his mouth but stopped when a sudden weight dropped on him. 

“Johnny!” 

Ignoring the scolding tone, the blonde pushed his body weight against Bucky and wedged himself between the pair. “You forgot your hat, Major.” Johnny mocked, throwing his hat at the elder. 

“Why you little….”

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! I appreciate all the positive feedback from my other works!

[mercurygray]

Friends, I have failed you all. I've seen a lot of posts over the last week with a lot of great biographical detail about many of the flyers and aircrew who've been name-dropped so far in Masters of the Air - and I haven't seen a single thing about the one name that is directly in the center of this blog's lane.

In Part 2, returning from their mission to Trondheim, Cleven and Egan walk into the Interrogation hut and Egan accepts a cup of coffee from a woman he thanks as Tatty. Later on, at the dance, James Douglass remarks that he will be 'coming in hot' on one of the American Red Cross women on the other side of the room, and one of his friends asks "General Spaatz's daughter? Or the other one?"

Katherine "Tatty" Spaatz was a member of the American Red Cross Clubmobile service and the daughter of General Carl "Tooey" Spaatz, who commanded the Eighth Air Force on its move to England. (General Spaatz later moved to overall command of the entire Army Air Forces in the Europe Theatre of Operations, or ETO. He is, as the kids say, rather important.)

But we're not talking about him here. We're talking about her.

Katherine was 22 years old when she arrived in Europe with the Red Cross. (One of her traveling companions that trip was Kathleen Kennedy, daughter of former U.S. Ambassador Joseph P Kennedy Sr., also coming to serve overseas with the ARC.)

The American Red Cross's mission in Europe had many facets during the Second World War - in addition to activities we might think of today, like collecting blood, providing disaster relief at home and running first aid seminars, they were responsible for collecting and distributing packages for Prisoners of War.

They also operated large canteens like the Rainbow Corner club, a recreational facility in London where soldiers on leave could get a room for the weekend, a bite to eat, and a number of other amenities. Smaller clubs called Donut Dugouts provided a space where a serviceman could always be assured of a cup of hot coffee, a donut, and a pretty girl to talk to, specially recruited for being friendly, fair, approachable, and specially trained to be the girl next door overseas. In addition to these more permanent installations, they also operated the Clubmobile service, a mobile version of their popular Dugouts that moved operations into retooled Green Line Bus Company buses to take donuts and a taste of home to the front line.

Tatty, as she was called, worked on the Clubmobile "North Dakota" along with Julia "Dooley" Townsend, Virginia "Ginny" Sherwood, and Dorothy "Mike" Myrick. Life Magazine did a full article on their clubmobile in February of 1943, which you can read online at the link. There is another lovely blog post with pictures here. She also worked for a time in a more permanent post at the USAAF base at Snetterton Heath, and was later sent to France. You can read a little bit more about her and see more pictures at her bio page at the American Air Museum in Britain website.

If you'd like more information about Tatty, Helen, and women like them, as well as the Clubmobile service, consider reading the following:

Slinging Doughnuts for the Boys by James H. Madison Battlestars & Doughnuts: World War II Clubmobile Experiences of Mary Metcalfe Rexford War through the Hole of a Donut, by Angela Petesch Goodnight, Irene (fiction) - Although this is a novel, it is based on Luis Alberto Urrea's mother's time as a Clubmobile worker and her personal papers.

[goldthorn-archive]

sender chews on a lock of the receiver's hair. [13] - Bucky being dog-coded in his cute aggression with Gale

prompt list here

hi anon! i’m always down for some dog-coded bucky <3 here’s ~400 words, hope u like it x

Bucky’s pleased. Gale had agreed to come out to the pub with the rest of the boys, even though it’s really not how Gale would choose to spend an evening. It’s usually too loud, too brash, too like the places he was forced to wait in as a child. But tonight, Bucky hardly had to beg before Gale agreed.

Tonight there’s a warm feeling in the air, something like safety. Gale’s surrounded by his men, and they didn’t lose anyone on today’s mission, which really, is unheard of. Everyone’s in good spirits, including Bucky, who’s sharing the booth with Gale, bodies warmly pressed together. Curt’s just gone to get another round, and Crosby and Douglass are engaged in some light-hearted argument about something Dougie said in the plane earlier that day. Gale’s not paying close attention.

Bucky’s been drinking steadily tonight, but not to drown out the emotions of the day. No, tonight he’s drinking to celebrate being alive with his friends, and the alcohol has him feeling a little loopy with happiness. Gale is pressed up against him on the bench and John is giddy with the feeling. Gale’s not much shorter than him, but he’s slighter, and with the way he’s lounging against John, his golden hair is just below Bucky’s face.

Bucky presses a kiss to Gale’s hair, feels the man shift slightly but not move away. Gale’s hair smells so good, and so like him as Bucky breathes, deep inhales, face pressed to Gale’s head. The alcohol thrumming through his system is slowing him down, slowing his thoughts down so that his body feels like it’s moving ahead of him.

“Bucky,” Gale jerks upright, and John gazes at him, eyes a little crossed. Gale reaches a hand up to his head, makes a grimace when he touches a patch of spit-wet hairs. “My hair,” he drawls, a tone of complaint that Bucky can pick up, even in his current state. It’s just, Gale’s hair smelled so nice, and it was so soft under his chin, and, and, his mouth was right there, and Bucky wondered what Gale might taste like. He’d taken a clump of Gale’s hair between his teeth, felt the coarse fibres of gold on his tongue.

Bucky just smiles dopily at Gale, and really, Gale finds it hard to stay annoyed, especially when Bucky tells him, “just wanted to see if you really were that sweet.”

[brotherwtf]

modern clegan equestrian au, anyone? (I swear I'm working on that Olympic au I just got sidetracked)

Gale is a Grand Prix show English show jumper, and John is a nation renowned Western Barrel racer

There is beef between the English and Western riders at Thorpe Abbotts ranch, ie: the riders are competing to see which discipline brings the most blue ribbons (and money) to the barn

The Western riders (John, Curt, Douglass, Rosie) all argue that their discipline is more interesting and less uppity, besides, John himself has 13 blue ribbons for barrel racing

The English riders (Gale, Croz, Blakely, Hambone) argue that their discipline is more refined and requires actual skill as opposed to just speed, and Gale has been courted by the Olympics team

Nobody beefs more than John and Gale, though

They walk by the "leaderboard" (they made it themselves, the owner of the ranch couldn't care less about their competition) and point out each of their ribbons and trophies to the other

Each side jokes that they desperately want to fuck each other, but John and Gale refuse to see it

One night, they get locked in a tack room and have to be around each other for an unhealthy amount of time (they want to fuck each other so bad)

They get into one of their petty arguments, comparing the prices of their tack, and John makes a nasty comment that Gale only uses "daddy's money" to get all the stuff he wants

Gale breaks down, as much as Gale can breakdown in public, and confesses that his father is essentially deadbeat, everything he owns he had to pay with his own money

John feels sympathy for him, and they become tentative friends

They start teaching each other more about their disciplines, Gale shows John how to jump and John shows him how to barrel race

The rest of the ranch (especially their friends) notice how close they're getting and make fun of them MASSIVELY

What if one of them gets hurt during one of their competitions, where the other just happens to be and nurses them back to health (insert cliche here)

Gale and John realise their feelings for each other then, that they really do care for the other and that they do want to fuck each other

They start dating, and the feud between Western and English disciplines sort of dies out after that

I was a horse girl in my youth, so this brought me immense joy to write about

Other silly headcanons below the cut

Gale actually takes up western riding, mainly for pleasure, and John makes fun of him for it to this day

The first time John successfully makes it over a jump, Gale buys him dinner and takes him to bed etc etc

Curt and John both barrel race, Douglass does cattle roping, and Rosie does cutting (basically can you control your horse with as little rein as possible)

Gale tried cross country jumping, but after an injury decided to just do show jumping

Croz and Hambone both do dressage, the best in the nation actually

Blakely does cross country jumping and tries to make Douglass try it, but fails miserably

John has a really beautiful black and white paint named Our Baby (John calls him Baby)

Gale has a black Morgan named Liberty Belle (Gale sometimes calls his and Johns horse Baby Belle when they start dating)

[ausetkmt]

On this day in 1838, Frederick Douglass escaped to freedom and found his calling as a leading voice in the abolitionist movement. Douglass escaped slavery by boarding a train to Havre de Grace, Maryland.

He was dressed in a sailor's uniform, provided to him by Anna Murray, (he married her 12 days later, she was a free Black woman in Baltimore) she also gave him part of her savings to cover his travel costs, and carried identification papers which he had obtained from a free black seaman. He crossed the Susquehanna River by ferry at Havre de Grace, then continued by train to Wilmington, Delaware.

From there he went by steamboat to "Quaker City" (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) and continued to the safe house of abolitionist David Ruggles in New York; the whole journey took less than 24 hours. Frederick Douglass later wrote of his arrival in New York: "I have often been asked, how I felt when first I found myself on free soil. And my readers may share the same curiosity. There is scarcely anything in my experience about which I could not give a more satisfactory answer.

A new world had opened upon me. If life is more than breath, and the 'quick round of blood,' I lived more in one day than in a year of my slave life. It was a time of joyous excitement which words can but tamely describe.

In a letter written to a friend soon after reaching New York, I said: 'I felt as one might feel upon escape from a den of hungry lions.' Anguish and grief, like darkness and rain, may be depicted; but gladness and joy, like the rainbow, defy the skill of pen or pencil."

Frederick Douglass first tried to escape from Freeland, who had hired him out from his owner Colonel Lloyd, but was unsuccessful. In 1836, he tried to escape from his new owner Covey, but failed again. In 1837, Douglass met and fell in love with Anna Murray, her freedom strengthened his belief in the possibility of his own.

Once he had arrived, he sent for Murray to follow him to New York; she arrived with the necessary basics for them to set up home. They were married on September 15, 1838, by a black Presbyterian minister eleven days after his arrival in New York.

[softspeirs]

May I request for the taking care of a tired lover prompt,  Blakely x Marie + ²⁾ “you’re going to bed, even if i have to carry you there myself.”?

A/N: Love this so much. Ev Blakely, your soft spot is showing! This is the first thing I've written in weeks and I felt I struggled with it a lot, so please let me know what you think of it! Thanks to @mercurygray for helping me out with the plot!

The music is loud in the pub tonight, and Ev Blakely is fighting off a pounding headache. He has been working 12 to 13 hour days for the last week, and he wants to go bed, but instead he's been dragged here, his friends insistent that he have a drink and try to relax.

Fat chance of that.

He knows he's being sour. He's not good company, and he doesn't miss the way Dougie is looking around, searching for anyone who's more willing to carry on a conversation.

Loud, female laughter from the other side of the pub grabs his attention, and he watches, amused, as Helen and a few of the other Red Cross ladies try to convince a girl he doesn't recognize to go dance with them.

His gaze is drawn to Fernandez, nearby. She's smiling, but it's tired, and he frowns at the circles under her eyes.

He's been seeing it in too many of his friends, and he's sure he looks much the same. Still, he doesn't like it.

"Are you listening to me?" Dougie elbows him.

"Yeah, yeah." Ev says, turning to his friend. "Just-- noticing that no one really seems in a party mood."

Douglass shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. "Because no one around here has gotten more than a few hours of sleep in a week."

The invasion is looming and they all know it. It's been nothing but planning and planning and more planning, and in the middle of it, they're still flying raids like there's nothing more imminent coming.

Underneath it all is the undercurrent, their missing friends, who they all think about but no one talks about. They don't say their names, they don't leave a spot for them in the bunks, and they don't talk about the months-old letters that finally showed up a few weeks ago.

At least they know they're alive. Doesn't do anything to help morale though, especially not when forts are still going down every day.

He can't even remember the name of the kid who introduced himself this morning and went down in the afternoon. It makes him feel sick.

"You need a drink, and then you need to sleep." Dougie says with finality. "Be right back." He stands, headed towards the bar.

Ev taps a rhythm on the table, and his attention is drawn across the room again at a loud cheer and more laughter. This time, he sees Marie on her feet, drink in hand, a little unsteady on her feet. Her usually perfectly coiffed hair is a little loose and untidy, and something about the distant look in her eyes puts him on edge.

It's none of your business, he tells himself. But then there's some guy there. Some guy is there and leaning into her space, and he either can't see the way she leans far in the other direction, or he doesn't give a shit, and he Ev can't really stand it anymore.

He doesn't want to be here anyway, so he might as well use this as an excuse to get gone, even if it's going to get him yelled at.

His feet are moving before he can think too hard about it, and then he's there, inserting himself. "Steady on, Fernandez," he says quietly, getting her attention. "You all right?"

Her eyes narrow at him. He thinks it's just instinct at this point.

"Fine. Long day. You, Major?"

"Going to call it a night. Might want to think about doing the same, yeah?"

She makes a face. "I just got another drink!" She protests. "From my new friend--" She looks up at the other man, eyebrows furrowing.

"Carmichael." He supplies. "Tom Carmichael."

"Tom." She parrots, and Ev tightens his jaw.

"Uh huh. Look, when's the last time you got any sleep, huh? I'm headed that way with Dougie, we'll walk you--"

"Do you remember that you're not the boss of me?" She asks primly.

Christ. "Yes. You made it really crystal clear."

"Good. So leave me alone, and I'll decide when it's time for me to go to bed."

He knows it's not his place, and he truly doesn't want to overstep. Now that he works more closely with her, he's tired of the constant bickering, but something just doesn't sit right with him, leaving her here like this. It's out of character for her to be in her cups, and even though she deserves it, he doesn't like it.

"Maybe you should listen to Major Blakely, Marie?" Tatty asks quietly from beside her. "It's been a long day."

Marie watches her friend and her face softens, just a fraction. It changes her so completely, Ev is almost taken aback by it. He’s only seen glimpses of her like this.

It makes something protective rise up in him again when he sees Tom lean in.

“We’ll finish our drinks and I’ll see her back.” He says with a tone of finality.

It’s not Ev’s place. It’s not, and so he holds up his hands. “Alright. Not a hair out of place, Carmichael.” His tone is genial, but he means it.

He meets Douglass back at their table. He accepts the beer handed his way and takes a long swig, trying to ignore the feeling that’s taken residence in his gut.

.

An hour later and he can barely keep his eyes open. The band is still going, but the crowd is petering out, and he’s on his feet ready to head to bed.

He’s halfway out the door when he sees her and stops in his tracks.

Marie is alone at the table, an empty glass in front of her. Her chin is in her hands and she looks half asleep. She’s watching the few couples still on the dance floor with a tiny smile and he can’t help but walk over to her table, taking a seat to her left.

“Good night?”

She blinks at him. “Yeah. It was all right.”

“Time to go, Fernandez. You’re running yourself ragged.” His voice is serious, hoarse with exhaustion.

“Speak for yourself,” she says with a raised eyebrow. Her words are slow from drink and the glassy look in her eyes makes his stomach clench.

“You’re going to bed if I have to carry you there myself, Marie.” He says quietly. “You deserve a break.”

She sighs. The fight leaves her. “Fine. Walk me? You can hold this.” She shoves her purse in his direction and then she’s on her feet before he can protest.

The night air is blessedly cool when they emerge, a low fog dragging itself across the fields and runways. She stops, eyes closing for a second. “It’s almost beautiful like this.” She says.

He hums. “You know what else is beautiful?”

She turns to him, surprised, a blush working its way across her cheeks.

“My bed.” He says firmly. “Those cotton sheets, my shitty, flat pillow…” He laughs at the look on her face, at the way she thought he was going to say something else.

And he could have - he could have made it obvious that he was watching her admire the sight before them instead of taking it in himself, he could have told her that he’s noticing more and more about her lately and that she’s never lovelier than when she’s yelling at him.

But he won’t. Because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, and he won’t do that to her. Or to himself.

“I’ll remember that, Major.” She says, walking ahead of him.

He catches up to her, slinging one arm around her shoulders, her exasperated sigh and his chuckles following them all the way back to her billet.

[blakelysco-pilot]

The Way I Am

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Three

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

The realities of war begin to dig their way under the skin of the men and women at Thorpe Abbotts, leaving some with more on their shoulders than they'd care to carry. New and existing friendships help to brighten a dark day, while Val and Everett admit truth's they can only say to each other. Featuring @winniemaywebber's Olive Lewis from the Honeysuckle Rose series.

Part Two Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist

Non-mision days were, naturally, a favorite of those who lived on Thorpe Abbotts airbase. A lot of the boys would still go up for practice missions, but it would leave a lot less what-if’s and nerves on the ground because the Luftwaffe was nowhere to be found, and the only thing they needed to worry about was taking off and landing safely. Those days, the Red Cross girls would still set up the Clubmobile for the boys, greeting them with coffee and donuts and a friendly smile as they trekked out to the hardstand. Today, almost all of the boys were going up on a practice run. They had already seen Brady and the  M’lle Zig Zig crew, Bucky and the crew of Mugwump, followed directly by Buck Cleven and Our Baby. Benny DeMarco had lingered at the truck, the pilot infatuated with the newest Red Cross girl, Olive. Olive had seemingly come out of nowhere, according to Tattie, but the girls had wasted no time at all in taking her in, despite her accent and dry British humor, she fit in like a missing puzzle piece amongst them. 

When Benny had asked if the girls would be willing to keep an eye on Meatball while they went up for practice, Olive was first out of the truck to greet the husky. Val suspected it was so that he didn’t actually go inside of the truck and make a mess of things like he somehow tended to do. When he got restless, Olive had offered to take him for a walk, and since it had been quiet, Val had ushered Helen off as well to keep Olive company. Tattie had taken the jeep to go pick up supplies for the truck on the other side of the base, which left Val alone. 

“You running the show alone today?”

Val looked up from where she was reading her copy of Screen Romances to find Ev and Douglass standing in front of the Clubmobile. Dougie’s hands on his hips, a wide smile stretching across his mouth. 

“Is my favorite Flyboy and his bombardier bringing up the rear today?” She smiled upon seeing them, her gaze immediately finding Everett’s from behind his aviators. 

“Just coffee if you can spare it, Val.” Douglass requested, politely declining the donut she had pointed to. 

“Oh, it’s okay for me to make you coffee again? I don’t need to go find Olive for you? She teased, already moving to pour him coffee from the carafe. Benny DeMarco wasn’t the only one who had taken a shine to Olive. 

“I saw her on my way over,” He shook his head, but the smile remained. “She was with Helen and Meatball.”

“DeMarco asked us to keep an eye on him while you boys went up today, so the two of them took him for a walk.”

Val reached through the hatch with his coffee, the handoff seamless as he accepted the coffee, the cup immediately coming up to his lips. 

“You’ve got the magic touch, Val.” He hummed, eyes closed in satisfaction. 

“I won't tell Olive you said that.” She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head as he gave her a half hearted salute and cheeky smile, before turning and heading towards the hardstands.  

Everett remained by the truck, flight gear and sheepskin jacket making him look every bit the pilot that she knew him to be. He was squinting up at her in the early morning sun, sunglasses now hanging from the pocket of his jacket. Even with his crush cap on, the sun was in his eyes. He looked like a little boy when he did that, and Val couldn’t help but find him utterly adorable. 

“Coffee for the road, handsome?” She grinned, holding a cup up, nodding her head towards the back of the truck where the doors were open. 

He smiled and moved around, meeting her at the back and stepping up on the first step, as she came to stand in front of him. 

“Hmm did you make it the way I like it?” 

“You mean, did I leave it black? Yes, Everett, I did.” 

“Someone woke up on the sassy side of the bed this morning.” He watched as she pulled her hand back, holding the coffee away from him. 

“This is going to cost you, Captain.”  She grinned. 

“Oh yeah? How much then, Miss Val?”

“Hmmm I’m thinking it’s at least worth a good morning kiss.” 

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I refused payment?” 

Stepping up one more step, he came as close as he could so she wouldn’t have to lean down, and gently, carefully, dropped a hand to her waist to steady her before planting his lips on hers. The kiss was quick, but not without feeling. The pair were very much aware that they were on working hours when he was flying and she was at the truck, so they tried not to get too carried away. But, still, he hated to go up if only for practice, without giving her a proper goodbye. 

“Payment accepted.” Val grinned as they parted, her hand falling to rest over his that remained on her waist, the other handing over his coffee before she spilled it. 

“Thank you,” His smile was wide as he took the cup from her hand, taking a sip and sighing as the liquid warmed him. “Perfect.”

“I don’t see how, there’s nothing in it!” She eyed his coffee skeptically. 

“I wasn’t talking about the coffee, sweetheart.”

“Oh, well, in that case I’m inclined to agree with you.”

He was about to reply when Douglass appeared around the back of the truck, head sticking out from behind where the doors were open, just over Everett’s shoulder. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying getting to drink my coffee but, we can’t get moving without the pilot, pal.”

“Dougie, you have the worst timing.” Ev sighed, shaking his head as Val laughed at the pair. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if they were the couple and she was just third wheeling. 

“Go on,” She urged him, stepping down from the truck to guide him towards where he needed to be. “You have to fly and I need to clean up here.”

“I’ll see you later, yea?” He dropped a quick kiss to her cheek just to see her smile again.

“Yes, either after you get back or at the club later with the girls. Now, be safe up there, okay?”

“You have my word.” He nodded. 

“You have mine, too!” Douglass joined in.

“Christ sake,” She shook her head. “Both of you get a move on, I don’t want to hear Harding bellowing about how I held you up.” 

At that, both boys turned, coffee in hand, and made their way to the hardstand to prep for their practice mission. 

Climbing back into the Clubmobile, she began to clean up what she could; covering the donuts with a towel, and wiping down the counter so that it was free of any spilled milk or sugar. Once she was satisfied, and knew Tattie would be too, she promptly parked herself back in front of her magazine to pick up where she left off. 

“Jeez, Val, don’t look so busy!”

Looking up she found Jack Kidd and Chick Harding, the taller of the men giving her his signature sarcastic scowl, which she was always happy to return. Ever since Bucky had been demoted from Air Exec, Jack seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face with most of the men. He had tried, once, to use it on her when he caught her and Ev saying goodbye at the truck, but Val had turned and given it back as good as she got. Jack had very quickly learned that while Tattie was in charge of the Red Cross girls, Val was the muscle, and if she was mad at you, heaven help the poor soul. Helen was starting to think Val and Jack just made faces at each other to see who could look meaner at this point, because it never lasted long before one of them broke and cracked a real smile.

“Wake up with a bug up your ass again, Jack?” She smirked, closing the magazine and leaning on her elbows out the hatch. 

“I’m here and not home so, yea.”

“Aww, well, loosen up and I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Harding stood, amused, watching the two seemingly square off, before Val broke first, offering a genuine smile that Jack returned. At that, Chick stepped up to the hatch to get her attention. 

“Valencia…”

“Chicky…”

“Jesus,” he huffed around his cigar, smoke billowing around him at her use of his unauthorized nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Chicky.”

Behind him, Kidd snickered, but quickly covered it with a cough. 

“Valencia…” Harding warned. 

“Fine…” It was long and drawn out. “You boys want coffee? I’ve got a few donuts left too.”

“Please,” Harding spoke, the words muffled around his cigar. “Why are you out here by yourself?”

“Helen and Olive took Meatball for a walk, and Tattie should be back any minute now. She took the jeep for supplies.”

“That damn dog get near the donuts again?” Harding tried to lift the towel she had placed over them, eyeing up the treats. 

“No, he did not get near them.”

“Good, I’ll take one then.”

Shaking her head, she handed him his coffee and donut before she turned her attention to Jack. Before she could ask him what he wanted the sound of Tattie on the jeep filled the air. 

“You two playing nice?” Tattie looked between Jack and Val. 

“Yes, Tattie, don’t worry,” Kidd chuckled. “I know when I’m beat.”

Grinning, the brunette stepped off the jeep, the back loaded with supplies for the Clubmobile. 

“Give me a second Tat and I’ll come help ya!” Val called out to her. 

Nodding, Tattie grabbed the small box that had been resting on the front seat next to her and made her way into the Clubmobile, while Val finished up with the boys. 

“Jack? Coffee?”

“Sure, Val, thanks.”

“Remind me again…”

“Just black.”

Nodding with a smile, Val poured him a cup, leaving it black. Plucking a donut from the tray, she handed him both, waving him off when he tried to protest at the donut. 

“Go on, I can’t let them go to waste.”

“Appreciate it,” Kidd nodded. “You taking the rest out to the ground crew?”

“That’s the plan.” 

“Good, those boys are working hard.”

With that, Chick and Jack gave her a wave before walking off back towards the control tower, where she had assumed Red was waiting for them. Watching them go, she quickly exited the truck and made her way to the jeep to help Tattie unload the boxes she had picked up. Helen and Olive should have been back, but knowing they had Meatball, it might have been a small blessing that they could unload the jeep without the husky getting under their feet for a bit. 

“Red Cross sent more rations. Coffee and fixings to make more donuts for us,” Tattie groaned, lifting a box and walking it to the truck. “Looks like we’ve got enough sugar to get us through the next month or two at least.”

“That’ll keep the fellas happy.” She agreed. 

“Nicked a few sweets for us girls, too.” Tattie winked as she stopped by the truck. 

“Your last name does have its advantages.” Val laughed, giving the scarf tied around her head a quick fix. 

“Mhmm, and you wouldn’t have been able to sweet talk the supply officer into a few Hershey bars?”

Before Val could reply, the sound of an engine far too close to where it should have been sounded above them, followed by a crash. The sound of the Land Girls screaming, and flames igniting in the trees out by the perimeter of the base caught their attention immediately, their faces turning to panic. 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” 

“Did you see what tail number it was?”

“No, I can’t see anything except smoke.”

“Get in the Jeep, come on.”

Tattie wasted no time jumping back behind the wheel, Val practically throwing herself into the seat beside her as they sped off to the hardstand. The fear was rising deep within her chest the closer they got, and she had to will herself to believe that Everett and his crew were not the ones ignited in flames somewhere in the trees. As if someone had their hand around her throat with no intention of letting up, she drew in ragged and uneven breaths. 

“Val… deep breath doll, come on…” Tattie’s voice sounded far away, like she was underwater and couldn’t break through the surface. 

“You girls shouldn’t be out here!” Ken Lemmons yelled as soon as Tattie parked the jeep by the Ground Crew. 

“Kenny…” Val turned to him with wide eyes, and the nineteen year old had never seen someone he considered a spitfire, look so terrified. 

“It’s Baynard and his crew.” He sighed, knowing her question before she had even asked it. 

“Jesus…” The relief she felt melded with the sadness that slammed into her as she remembered handing Baynard and his Navigator their coffee that morning. He was one of the newer kids- anyone younger than her was a kid in her eyes- and hadn’t even flown a first mission yet. 

“Took a turn too early and went into a dive, couldn’t pull himself out of it.”

“He was just a kid…” Val shook her head, trying to understand just how the world could be so cruel. 

Tattie’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, and when Val turned to look at her friend, she noticed that she looked just as upset as she felt. The boys liked to joke that the girls could be the last pretty face they ever saw, and the reality of it seemed to hit the pair on them with the force of a thousand B-17’s. 

“Tattie, let’s uh, let’s get back to the truck and let the boys uhm…”

“Yea, yea alright.” She put the jeep back into gear, and the two women sped off back towards the Clubmobile. 

When they returned, the boxes they hadn’t finished unloading remained on the grass, Helen and Olive standing amongst them with Meatball eagerly sniffing at them. 

“What the hell happened out there!” Olive yelled over the engine of the jeep. 

“Baynard, he uh… him and his crew they…”

“Fuck sake! That was them?”

“Yea, it was them.” Val stepped out of the jeep with a sigh, immediately letting it support her body weight. 

“We just saw them this morning…” Helen sighed, body slumped back against the Clubmobile. 

Val could only nod, the fear that had her in a chokehold slowly beginning to subside. To think it could have been Everett, or Curt, had made her blood run cold. The idea of losing either of them was a reality she prayed to god she never had to face. 

“Val? You alright?” Helen was suddenly in front of her, Val’s hand in her own, the woman trying to meet her eyes. 

“Yea… just, scared shitless if I’m being honest.”

“Oh honey, I know…”

“Could have been either of them, Helen. And I’m not keen on being alone.”

“Oh chicken, you’ll never be alone. You’ve got us.” Olive joined them, taking Val’s other hand in her own, a soft smile on her face. 

“I need to get used to being called chicken as a term of endearment.” Val laughed, dropping her head to Olive’s shoulder. 

“There we go,” Olive grinned. “Feeling better?”

Nodding, Val pushed off from the jeep, moving to help with the rest of the boxes so that they could close up the truck and head off to the mess for lunch. 

“Meatball! No!!” 

The three girls looked over to where Tattie was standing, hands on her hips, as Meatball ripped into one of the boxes with his teeth. 

“I’m going to kill DeMarco…” she sighed. 

——————————————————————————————————

Exiting the Red Cross hut, Val and Olive were surprised to see Curt waiting outside for them. The pilot was dressed sharp, grinning from ear to ear as the girls spotted him. 

“Can I walk ya to the club, Val?”

“You can; I’m hard pressed to ask what you want, Curt.”

“Honest to God, just wanna walk ya.”

“Curt?”

“Helen told me you were a bit rattled after today, and I just wanted to make sure you’re alright…”

Val stopped walking, turning to face Curt with a soft smile. 

“Olive, I’ll catch up.”

“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll save your seat.”

“Thanks.” Val turned to her friend, watching as she walked across to the club, immediately intercepted by Benny who had been waiting outside with Meatball. 

Turning back to Curt, she saw him fidgeting with his sleeves before finding her gaze again. 

“Curt, I’m alright. Honest…”

“Nah, I know you’re alright but, I wanted to just, double check, ya know?”

“Curt, are you alright?” His fidgeting was so unlike him that it had her worried. 

“Oh sure, yea I’m just fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I gotta be alright for my crew, ya know? And for you and my Ma back home.  But, sometimes, it all just feels… well, I feel it.”

“Well, it’s okay to feel it. You can admit that to me, Curt. I wouldn’t think anything less of you.”

“You’d better not, you’re my best friend.”

“Curt…” She sighed. This was usually when she’d begin to get exasperated with him. As usual.

“B’Sides… if anything happens-“

“Curt…”

“If anything happens, you gotta write to my Ma, alright?”

“Curt, how can you ask me to do that?” She whispered. 

“No one knows me better than you, Val. It’s gotta be you, alright?”

“How can you put that on me, huh?”

“Just promise, would ya, ya stubborn woman!” He threw his hands up at her. “I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon, for fuck sake.”

“Fine! I promise, okay?” 

“Thank you,” He grinned, but she could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now come on, I think we both need a drink.”

“After what you just asked me, I need more than one.” She groaned, allowing him to toss his arm over her shoulder and guide them both to the club. 

“Well I’m only buying ya one,” He looked up with a smirk. “You got Blakely now, he can buy you the second one.”

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“Nah, I’m very believable.” 

Pulling the door open, he walked Val to the table where the girls were already sitting, promising to be back with her drink. It left her shaking her head as she sat, baffled still at the conversation they’d had outside, and how he had turned on a dime from sarcastic Curt, to a scared boy right in front of her.

Turning to the girls, she noticed that Olive wasn’t with them, and knowing Benny had caught her on her way in, she wondered if him and Douglass were already vying for her attention. 

“Where’s Olive? With Benny or Dougie?”

“Ladies room.”

“Okay so which one is probably waiting outside the door for her?” Val chuckled, trying to bring herself back. 

“Dougie.” They replied in unison, laughing at the image of him hanging out outside the ladies bathroom. 

Helen gestured behind her, and before she could ask her what she was looking at, the one voice she had been yearning to hear all day since that crash, had finally eased the anxiety gnawing at her from the inside out. 

“I was starting to wonder where you were.” 

“Ev…” His name came on a breath, and she turned in her seat to see him standing behind her, dapper as ever. 

“I didn’t see you come in with the girls,” He rounded the table and perched himself against the arm of the chair next to her, casually bringing his drink to his lips. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, everything’s fine. Curt caught me as I was leaving the hut with Olive and wanted to talk.”

He nodded, slipping into the seat next to her with ease, his arm coming to rest around the back of her chair. His fingers gently moved over her shoulder, causing her to shiver and slide just a bit closer to him. 

“You okay sweetheart?” 

Shaking her head as if he had to ask why she had moved closer, she was about to give him the what for, when the other man in her life suddenly reappeared. 

“Course she’s okay! She’s got a drink now!”

He carefully slid a martini glass in front of her, and she couldn’t help but notice it was missing some off the top. 

“Thank you, Curt. And would you look at that, he taste tested it for me too.”

“What a guy, I know I am!” Curt beamed, not even caring that she had caught him. 

“You didn’t bring one for the rest of us, Biddick?” Tattie baited him, knowing it would get a rise out of the pilot and take the heat off Val. 

“My mistake, Tattie. What are you and Helen drinking this evening?”

“Rum and cola,” She replied, bringing a cigarette to her lips. “And they’re not to be taste tested.”

“Well then, I’ll be back with those.”

“Curt, why don’t you join us when you come back, yea?” Val looked over at him, and then at Ev, who nodded over at his fellow pilot in agreement. 

“Yea, Biddick, you can’t leave me outnumbered here…” Ev offered, the two men sharing a silent conversation. 

“Well, alright then. I'll be right back.”

Once Curt had reached the bar, Val pressed a chaste kiss to Ev’s cheek. 

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“You know what for.” She grinned. 

“Well, in that case, you’re welcome.”

“You two just going to gaze into each other's eyes all night, or are one of you going to go and save poor Olive, who’s been cornered at the bar.” Helen gestured to where Olive was now at the bar, Douglass, Benny and Curt, all trying to buy her a drink. 

“Jesus Christ almighty, Everett, you need to keep him on a leash.” Val sighed, pushing her chair back, standing to go rescue her friend. 

“Maybe we can ask Benny if he’ll lend us Meatball’s.” He called after her as she went, the two girls at the table with him laughing. 

“Okay boys, that’s enough,” Val pushed through them, just enough to get to Olive’s side. “Curt, I have two very thirsty friends waiting on you at the table.”

“I was just-“

“Helen and Tattie are waiting.” She fixed him with a look, and he quickly turned back to the bar to order two drinks for the girls and a whiskey for himself. 

“You two,” She turned on Douglass and DeMarco. “If you’d like to talk to Olive, come and sit with us.”

“Oh uh…”

“The table, Dougie,” Val grinned, a saccharine sweet smile stretching across her lips. “Benny, you and Meatball are welcome to join us.”

With that, she linked arms with Olive and marched her back towards the table that Everett and the girls were still occupying. 

“You could rule the world, Valencia DiRosano.” Olive shook her head with a laugh. 

“No, but I could certainly whip these fellas into shape.”

Neither girl had to turn around to know that all three boys were following dutifully behind them, looking more like lost puppy’s than the actual dog that was part of their little hodgepodge group. 

Four Red Cross gals, three pilots, a bombardier and a husky all crowded around a table as the band played on around them. Val had slid into Everett’s lap at one point, and Meatball had dutifully taken up her empty seat for himself, paws on the table like the good boy he was, simply enjoying the people around him. If she had to admit it, he was the best behaved fella at the table. Curt was currently telling a -very animated- story from back home that included Val, and a blonde that hadn’t gotten the hint that he was uninterested. 

“I ain’t never seen anything like it,” His arms flailed wildly around him, almost knocking the glass from Benny’s hand. “One minute she’s across the room, and the next, she’s got this girl by the elbow, hauling her out like-“

“Like trash, Curt. Because she was trash.” Val sniggered, pointing across the table at him while Everett held her in his lap. 

“So we know who to call when we need a quick exit then, is that it?” Benny chuckled. 

“Call Tattie, she’s just as good as I am.”

“Oh please! You’re the muscle, you managed to tame Kidd of that god awful scowl he’s been wearing for weeks.”

“That’s Egan’s fault,” Helen groaned. “Went and got himself demoted.”

“How exactly do you get demoted from Air Exec?” Dougie pondered, lighting himself a cigarette before it was quickly proffered by Olive, who plucked it from his fingers with a grin. “Hey!”

When she handed it back to him after taking the first inhale, no one at the table missed the slightly put out look on Benny’s face. Thankfully, they were saved by the Hundredths regimental photographer coming over to their table, camera in hand.

“You lot up for a group shot?”

“Absolutely!” Tattie grinned, maneuvering everyone so that they were all crowded together, Meatball front and center, tongue wagging in delight at all the attention. Val remained perched in Ev’s lap, her right arm wound around his neck, the left holding his that was firmly on her waist. Across from her, Dougie had pulled Olive into his lap, the blue eyed man looking rather pleased with himself. Curt had squeezed himself between Helen and Tattie, sitting on their laps, as Benny squeezed in between Val and Tattie, with Meatball. 

“Alright you guys,” Joe, the photographer hollered over the band. “On three…”

He counted off, and the flash captured the moment perfectly. He took a second, just to be sure, before the group untangled themselves. 

“How about you two,” He turned to Val and Everett. “Captain Blakely? Miss Val?”

“Oh! Thank you Joe!” She beamed, standing from Everett’s lap so that they could take a proper photo.

Adjusting his jacket, Everett wrapped both arms around her, holding her close as she rested one hand on his back, the other against his chest. They barely registered their friends watching, or that Joe had snapped the first photo of them simply looking at each other. When he had them turn to smile, Val felt as though she might burst; wrapped up in Everett’s arms, everything felt as it should. Her friends, the man she adored, the music around them and even Meatball. It didn’t escape her that this was the first photo they’d taken together, and she’d cherish it for the rest of her days.  

“I’ll get those to you all soon as I can.” Joe had bid them farewell after taking a few more of their group. Curt was especially excited to send the picture of him and Val home to his Ma. Proof they were both alright, he had said. Val suspected he just wanted to prove she hadn’t strangled him. Yet. 

“Thanks Joe!”

As he made his way to the next table, Curt stood from his spot at the table, holding his hand out to Helen, cheeky smile on his face. 

“Humor a poor sap with a dance?”

“Well; you’ve been surprisingly well behaved tonight, Curt, so why not.”

She allowed him to take her hand and guide her from her chair to the dance floor, where they began to sway to the tune of the band. 

Val and Tattie watched as both Dougie and Benny seemed to have the same idea, and sensing that DeMarco had sat and watched Olive with Douglass, Tattie stood from her seat, and tugged Dougie with her towards the dance floor. 

“Come on, you. Let’s stretch our legs, hmm?”

“Sure, Tattie…” Dougie followed her towards the center, eyes just barely catching Benny leading Olive to the dance floor as well. 

“May I?” Everett held his hand out for Val, who accepted without hesitation. Joining their friends on the dance floor, the band kept the tunes slow and romantic for a bit longer than normal. Val didn’t miss Dougie and Benny swap partners after the second song finished, the two of them remaining well behaved, lest ruin the mood of the evening for everyone. 

“The pair of them are lovesick.” Everett shook his head, watching as Olive joined Dougie, and Tattie moved into Benny’s hold. 

“Olive is definitely overwhelmed by it all,” Val looked up at him. “But between you and me, I think it’s Dougie who’s stolen her heart.”

“You think so?”

“She looks at him a certain way that she doesn’t when Benny comes around. I think she loves Benny but she may be falling in love with Doug.”

“Love, huh? That’s a big admission.” 

“Well, when you know, you know.” Val shrugged, tucking herself back against his chest. 

“Ain’t that the fuckin truth…” Ev whispered to himself, glancing down at the woman in his arms. 

He’d had a feeling when he first saw her in the club that night that something had been irking her, and when she had mentioned Curt wanting to talk, he thought it had been something he had done. The two of them were constantly arguing like siblings, the occasional real disagreement popping up, but they had seemed fine at the table, so maybe it really was nothing. 

“How did it go up there today?” She peeked up at him, and that’s when he saw it. The worry behind her eyes. 

“That’s what’s bothering you…”

“Nothing's bothering me.”

“Please, don’t lie to me…” 

“I don’t want to do this here,” Val eyed the room cautiously, before nodding towards the doors. “Take a walk with me?”

“Of course honey. Come on.”

He led her from the club, now outside in the dewy, English air. They walked hand in hand, silently, until they found a suitable place to talk without anyone hearing them. 

“It’s not like me to get scared but, today…”

“You heard about Baynard.” He guessed. 

“Tattie and I saw it happen.”

He hadn’t expected that she’d seen it. Hearing about these things was never easy, and the girls were all so friendly with the fellas that they began to grow attached to some of them. You remember how they take their coffee, or to ask about their sweetheart back home. Anything to bring a smile to their faces. 

“Jesus…”

“We were unloading the boxes into the truck, and the next thing we saw was the tail of a fort in the trees, black smoke and fire. Fire like I’ve never seen in my life.”

“Honey…”

“I just thought…” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to focus on something, anything. Anything except for the way her chest was seizing up and her eyes were watering. “What if it had been you, or Curt. I just don’t know what I’d have done.”

“I’m so sorry that you spent all day worried.”

“Kenny told us it wasn’t you… it shouldn’t be that grief comes with relief, Ev.”

“I know,” He sighed, taking her hands in his. “I wasn’t even off the ground yet when it happened. Yet… yet I felt this odd sense of thank god. Thank god it wasn’t my crew, my friends…”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything honey.”

“Are you ever scared? Scared that you might go up one day and, and-“

“Every day,” He admitted. “Scared we’ll live the rest of our lives stuck in East Anglia, fighting this goddamn war. Scared I’ll go up and it’ll be the last time. Scared I’ll end up stuck in the Stalag while you’re here alone. Scared to break your heart most of all.”

“Everett, no…no don’t say that.”

“We could be scared together. No one else has to know.” 

“Yea…yea let’s do that,” She huffed out a laugh, wiping at her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. It’s alright.”

“You weren’t supposed to see me cry.”

“No? But then I don’t get to do this.”

Carefully, he took her face in his hands, kissing away the tears that stained her cheeks. Slowly, carefully, his lips blazed a trail down her left cheek, stopping to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth before repeating the process on the right side. Once he had kissed her tears dry, and only then, did he allow his lips to find hers. Under the cover of night, he did his damndest to kiss away her fear and anything that scared her. He harbored enough fear for the two of them, and if he could ease hers just a bit, he’d do what he could. 

The sound of footsteps rounding the corner, crunching against the gravel pulled them apart. They found Dougie and Benny standing there, both wearing the disappointment on their faces with no attempt to hide it. 

“Ev,.” Doug sighed. “We gotta go. The light’s on.”

Part Four

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know! A big huge thank you to @hephaestn for the stunning new mood board.

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Fort Erie

The Siege of Fort Erie (4 August to 21 September 1814) was one of the last major military operations of the War of 1812. Following the bloody Battle of Lundy's Lane, a US army retreated into Fort Erie, where it was soon besieged by a British force. Although the Americans withstood the siege, they would ultimately abandon the fort anyway.

Siege of Fort Erie

E. C. Watmough (Public Domain)

Background: Invasion & Retreat

Early on the morning of 3 July 1814, a US army crossed the Niagara River and captured the British stronghold of Fort Erie, beginning the final American invasion of British Canada. Hoping to restore honor to the US Army after a series of humiliating defeats as well as to conquer Canadian territory to use as a bargaining chip for the upcoming peace negotiations in Europe, US Major General Jacob Brown was determined to push up the Niagara Peninsula and seize as much land as possible. After securing Fort Erie, Brown's army moved north and defeated the Right Division of the British Army at the Battle of Chippawa (5 July 1814). Shocked by their defeat, the British withdrew to Fort George to regroup, leading to a weeks-long stalemate as American and Canadian militia units skirmished with one another, consuming the Niagara countryside in blood and flames.

On 25 July, General Gordon Drummond, the lieutenant governor of Upper Canada, arrived to take command of the battered British army at Fort George. Drummond had spent the last few months whipping the province into military readiness, having already imposed martial law and having helped to oversee the executions of eight traitors in the town of Ancaster. Now, he was determined to halt the American attack and marched out to meet the invaders, leading to the hard-fought Battle of Lundy's Lane. Though the battle ended in a stalemate, it was one of the bloodiest actions of the war; by the time the fighting finally died down around midnight, around 1,700 men were left dead or wounded on the field (approximately 850 casualties on each side). General Brown, who had taken a bullet to the thigh, was incapacitated after the battle, meaning that command of the American army fell to one of his subordinates, Brigadier General Eleazer Wheelock Ripley. A more cautious man than Brown, Ripley knew that the American army was in no condition to renew the fight – indeed, they had only about 750 men in fighting condition and were running low on supplies, while the British could afford to wait for reinforcements and fresh provisions. On the morning of 26 July, therefore, Ripley abandoned the blood-soaked fields around Lundy's Lane and withdrew to the relative safety of Fort Erie.

Upon returning to Fort Erie, Ripley still felt exposed and wanted to withdraw back across the river to New York and end the campaign altogether. But Brown, who was livid when he learned of Ripley's retreat to Fort Erie, refused to allow this. Still too wounded to lead the army himself, Brown sent the more aggressive Brigadier General Edmund Pendleton Gaines to take command from Ripley and instructed him to hold Fort Erie at all costs. Gaines knew that it was only a matter of time before the British came to lay siege and immediately worked to increase the fort's defenses. Since Fort Erie was too small to hold Gaines' entire army – approximately 2,800 men by early August – the Americans' first task was to expand it, which they did by extending the wall about half a mile further south. They also constructed new fortifications, including a redoubt dubbed 'Battery Towson' (in honor of its commander, artillery Captain Nathan Towson) built atop Snake Hill, another battery near the lakeshore called the 'Douglass Battery', as well as a dry ditch, filled with sharpened wooden spikes, that surrounded the outside of the fort. The Americans also covered the fields around the fort with obstacles such as felled trees, to obstruct any infantry assault.

Continue reading...

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

hiiiii can i ask for either "sick" or "dancing" for gwen and brady? whichever you feel most inspired about!

thank you so much blu! I have ideas for both of these prompts, so I'll probably write the second one soon, too!

dancing -> gwen dastrup x john brady

John's foot tapped steadily against the hardwood floor as the band continued with their tune, his fingers leaping across the saxophone keys with practised precision, the melody coming so naturally to him that he scarcely had to think about it, letting his gaze wander from the sheet music propped up in front of him. The crowds twirled and danced across the floor below the stage, a testament to his good work, but he couldn't focus on them, their spinning forms dizzying him if he stared for too long. No, there was a sight far more worthy of his attention beyond the dancefloor.

Separated by an open arch, the bar that snaked around the opposite side of the officers' club was visible through the bustle of partygoers trying to secure a drink. The bartender worked away relentlessly, but stood beside him was that all-too-familiar head of golden curls, pouring pints with trained efficiency, sliding a tray of glasses across the bar to where Douglass and Hambone stood waiting, a pleasant smile curling her lip.

The Red Cross girls danced at almost every party. Gwen Dastrup, however, did not. Brady had never gotten a chance to ask her why - it certainly wasn't for a lack of invitation. They couldn't pass a night at the officers' club without half a dozen pilots trying their luck, attempting to woo her out from behind the bar. It was rare that a man got the chance to dance with a girl as pretty as Gwen, and heartbreaking when said chance passed them by.

She leaned forward across the bar, holding out her chin so that Tatty could wipe away a smudge in her lipstick. Gwen grinned, and John felt the stern glare of the man sitting beside him as his finger slipped, skimming the wrong note by mistake. Damn. He forced himself to look away, to push out any distraction until the song was over. As the melody found its close, he pushed himself up from his seat, grateful that the next song on the band's roster had no need of him.

Gwen was crouched behind the bar, rummaging for a new bottle of scotch as he arrived, leaning on his elbows to peer down at her. "Gwen?" Brady called, his voice startling her, and she almost smacked her head on the shelf as she jolted upright a bottle of spirit in each hand.

"Oh, hey," She shrugged with false nonchalance, face heating up a bright red at her near fumble.

"I got a question," He stated, still leaning halfway across the bar towards her as she unscrewed the top off one of the bottles and began pouring another round of drinks for a nearby table.

"Well don't leave me hangin'."

"Why won't you dance with me?" John asked. Gwen paused, arching a brow. "I don't mean anythin' by it, it's just... I wanna know if I should stop getting my hopes up, s'all."

She frowned, stepping out from behind the bar and slipping past him as she delivered another tray of glasses to the pilots sitting nearby. He took a step closer as she turned back to him, their bodies almost pressed together with how close they stood. Her hand was half-covering her mouth as she spoke, a tint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks.

"I don't... I don't know how," She admitted.

Brady paused, tilting his head to the side. "Gwen Dastrup, are you telling me you never learned to dance?"

"They just hired me 'cause I'm pretty," Gwen shrugged as if it were obvious. As far as he was concerned, 'pretty' wasn't an adequate word for it.

"Alright, well, that's not gonna cut it," Shaking his head, he reached for the cuff of her sleeve, tugging her towards the door. She shook her head slightly, trailing cautiously behind him.

"Brady, what're you doing?"

"Teaching."

It was deserted out in the hall, the partygoers too preoccupied with dancing and drinking to stray beyond the dancefloor and bar. Gwen almost rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of Brady's venture, but when he turned back to look at her there was no humour in his expression. He meant business.

"Alright, okay, so - stand... like this," He began, gentle hands on her shoulders, guiding her into place. Nudging her with his toe, his pushed her feet across the carpet until she was standing correctly. "Feet like that... ok, you take this hand, on my shoulder, and I hold this one. Yeah?"

"I have seen people dance before," Gwen pointed out, his meticulous instruction striking her as more than necessary.

Brady nodded firmly, satisfied with his work so far. Her palm slotted comfortably against his, skin soft beneath his fingertips, and her cheeks flushed slightly as his hand found its way to her waist. Although muffled, the music was still audible from out here, and he nodded in time with the beat, peering down at their feet.

"Left foot first... then right, like that... and you count - one, two, three, one, two, three," He spoke softly, breath fanning her slightly, its warmth skimming across her cheek. Gwen stared down at her feet, moving in time with his instructions, matching his own steps as best she could.

"One, two, three - one, two, three," She uttered to herself, brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment of stepping in circles with the music, she looked up to find him staring at her, a grin creasing his cheeks. A sudden wave of embarrassment washed over her and Gwen let out an involuntary snort of laughter, releasing her grip on his hand.

"No, no, that was good," Brady assured her. "Keep goin'."

"But people always talk when they're dancing, I can't just count my steps the whole time," She huffed frustratedly.

"So practice. Talk about something."

Gwen's brow furrowed, drawing her lips between her teeth slightly as she considered what to say. Her eyes widened, and Brady could practically see the idea blooming in her mind.

"I was reading an article this morning - did you know that at the funeral of William the Conqueror, the church got robbed whilst he was lying in state, and then when they tried to put him in his casket his bowels exploded?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but for a long moment, no words came. Tilting his head to the side, John nodded. "D'you know what? I did not know that, no."

She shrugged, chuckling lightly. "Probably shouldn't say that specifically next time."

Brady began to grin, shaking his head. "I dunno, I think it'll scare off the ones who ain't worth your time."

Gwen mirrored his grin, beaming up at him, perfect teeth peeking out between perfectly red lips. He would do her a disservice to call her beautiful. Girls like Gwen were called beautiful so many times a day it lost its meaning - it didn't take anyone special to notice it, it was the first thing anyone ever saw. But she'd been dancing in time with the music for the last few minutes without having to count, and she hadn't even noticed it.

"See, now you've got it. Any fella'd be lucky to have you," He said, nodding to her. She considered this, beginning to smile, that ever-present blush blooming in her cheeks once more.

"Why, thank you, Cap'n."

[winniemaywebber]

Hey Winnie!

💬: Favourite quote in episode 1-2?

👩: Who is your favourite female character in the show?

hey nonnie!

💬: "What’s the difference between a hippo and a zippo?" and "CRAWZ. YOU TAKE THE SCENIC RAWT"

👩: oh, you absolutely know it's my Clubmobile girlies! I do love Sandra (Bel Powley, my beloved) but the ARC girls specifically have had a hand in changing my life.

happy birthday MoTA ask game

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 2

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Reader is a “Red Cross Girl”, cringe flirting, alcohol consumption

Word Count: ~1.1k

Masterlist Previous Next

x x x

The pub was loud. The small space was filled to the brim with American and British soldiers, a few locals sprinkled in the mix. Men cheered as they gambled, the smell of beer and stronger liquor filled the air while cigarette smoke created a haze. You needed some fresh air, your senses becoming momentarily overwhelmed.

You lay your hand on Helen’s arm to pull her attention away from the gossip the other ladies were sharing, “I am going to get some air.”

“Are you sure you are alright?” She asked, still skeptical as you had seemed for distracted the past few weeks.

“Of course, just need some air.”

The letter had been on your mind, the possability of who may have written had been consuming your thoughts just as they claimed you had been consuming theirs. Every time the mail was delivered you waited patiently, hoping that maybe another anonymous letter would arrive. The message had seemed sweet so you were not concerned with ill intention, just curious as to whom it could be.

The fresh air felt good against your skin, the warm air in the pub had made you feel clammy. You leaned against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed as your fingers traced the grooves in the old brick. The street was quiet, only a small bit of noise emitting from the pub and a few passing cars. The sound of boots stumbling out of the pub had you opening your eyes, your brow furrowed as your easily recognized the navigator as he stepped into the light.

“Bubbles?” You were concerned, he did not seem like the type to overconsume. “Are you alright?”

He looked as clammy as you had previously felt, fatigue weighing down his limbs as you approached. “Not feeling too hot, calling my night early.”

You nodded, “Would you like me to walk back with you?”

“I should be alright, enjoy your night ma’am.”

When you returned to the pub, the table that you had previously occupied was empty, the ladies scatttered around in their own conversations. You were thankful that for a moment Helen wouldn’t have the chance to treat you like you were a fragile egg. Though you enjoyed the quiet of sitting alone for a moment, it was interupted much too soon by James Douglass, a man you were not to keen on as he stood across the table with his much more tolerable friend, Everett Blakely.

“You look a little lonely over here, mind if we sit?”

You nearly glared at the bombardiers audacity, but managed to keep it at bay. “If I say yes, I am making it clear now that I will not be interested in anything other than just a friendly chat, ever.”

“That has been taken into consideration.” His body fell into the opposing chair, his friend taking the other much more gracfully. “So what has got you so blue?”

You huffed, leaning your chin on your hand as you thought. “The English rain.”

He sent you a questioning look, eyebrow raised with skepticism. “But it ain’t raining.”

You cross the man off the mental list of potential authors, eyes landing on the quiet pilot who seemed to be hiding a smirk behind lighting a cigarette. You wondered if maybe the Pilot could be the mysterious author, but you figured you did not know the man well enough to make an informed decision. Though, you would not mind if he was the culprit as he was quite handsome.

James glanced around the pub, his eyes briefly pausing on the group of Red Cross ladies that had accumulated in the corner, more so one in particular. “Listen, I would like to make an exchange. Your friend-“

“Helen?”

“Can you put in a good word for me?” He borderline begged, trying his best attempt at ‘puppy dog’ eyes.

“Is he always this desperate?” You asked the pilot, who merely just shrugged at his friends dog antics. “What is the exchange?”

“A dance. You were sitting here looking terribly alone before I sat down.”

“You are an asshole, you know that?” You scoffed, your arms crossing over your chest as you leaned back against the chair to get a broader view of the men in front of you.

“Are you sweet on her or are you just interested in being a ‘gentle’ man?”

Your callback to your first encounter on arrival day had his reassuring smile resembling more of a grimace, knowing that if he lied to you would likely just tell him off.

“You are insufferable, but fine. My word is only going to be as strong as this proposition was.”

He seemed to accept your response as he stood from the chair, straightening the ends of his jacket before offering his hand to you. “The dance floor awaits.”

As you accepted the outstretched hand you turned to the pilot being left on his lonesome. “Have a good night, Lieutenant Blakely.”

You sent Douglass a playful yet stern glare as he led you through the crowded pub, causing you to bump shoulders with many of the men who were trying to enjoy their evening. When you reached a large enough clearning in the crowd he stopped, twirling you until you were face to face. “No funny business, hands stay above the waist… and no touching any bits and bobs above that either.”

The hand he was about to place on your backside quickly corrected itself to rest on your spine, “Cross my heart and swear to die.”

Soon it was time to stumble back to Thorpe Abbotts, all the men and women eager to rest their tired heads unknowing that they would be woken in just a few short hours to prepare for another tirade. You would have missed it in the darkness of the billet if the moon had not been shining through the small window above your bed. The white envelope propped against your pillow, only your name sprawled across the front in pen, identical to the previous letter you had recieved. As the other ladies peacefully slept, you sat under the moonlight with more questions than ever running through your head.

“I yearn to approach you so freely, take you into my arms for a dance and confess my admiration. Though I yearn, I cannot allow myself to taint such a beautiful flower and so I stay, watching from a far as you dance in the arms of another.”

x x x

Tags: @canyousmelltheflowers

I’m glad you are enjoying this one so far ❤️❤️@jointherebellion215 @gretagerwigsmuse