#Dougley

[4o4notf0und]

JAMES DOUGLASS & EVERETT BLAKELY Masters of The Air (2024)

[kafka-ohdear]

sometimes i feel the urge to point at two fictional men and say shits like "they should FUCKING kiss".

[sleepy-hyperfixations]

Douglas looks like he's abt to jump Blakely's bones in front of god and everyone

[panevanbuckley]

sure we've got buck and bucky, or croz and bubbles but have you stopped and taken a moment to consider douglass and blakely??

[spinteresting]

As I write more and more for Ev/Doug. I find that I’m often writing Dougie just absolutely adoring Ev. I blame Elliot Warren for that.

[itstheheebiejeebies]

Prompt: you woke me up screaming from a nightmare, and I’m tired, so let’s cuddle so the nightmares don’t come anymore

Pairing: Dougley at the flak house

This one isn't crazy long, but it is on the longer side so it's going under a read more

A scream cuts through the room jerking James awake, Ev was screaming, why was Ev screaming? The wires in his brain connect, bad dream. He hops out of his bed and sprints across the room to where Ev lay.

“Ev, Ev, honey you gotta wake up, come on, it’s just a dream,” he gently shook Ev’s arm.

Ev jerked awake, “Doug?”

“Yeah, it’s me, just me.”

“You’re okay.”

“Yeah,” his forehead furrowed, “of course I am.” Realization crossed his face, “You were dreaming about Bremen weren’t you.”

Ev looked away embarrassed, but James just tightened the grip he still had on Ev’s forearm just a little.

“I keep dreaming about it too. That hit we took straight through the nose, the look on Croz’s face after. I bet I looked the same, but I’ve never seen him look like that. Just… Petrified and shocked in equal measure. I dream about our landing, because you were a fucking God that day, but…” he shook his head, “We coulda died a hundred ways. And it’s only because of you and some crazy luck that we didn’t. You don’t gotta be embarrassed.”

Ev shifted so he was sitting up, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that mission if I live to be a hundred. When we took that hit, I swear my heart stopped. Until I heard you and Croz on the comms again, until I knew you were alive, my heart stopped dead and I couldn’t think. I don’t even know how long it took you two to report back, or how many times I asked for you to respond. Just that Jack called my name a couple times, so it must have been a few,” Ev looks like he’s a thousand miles away, back in their plane, soaring through that horrific sky all over again.

“Budge over,” James decrees.

“What?”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” a small lie, but for the best, “you’re not sleeping well, it makes sense. Just budge over. We’ll share the bed and that way if you start dreaming again, or I do, then we can wake each other up faster.”

“Jamie, I don’t…”

“Ev,” James’ voice has taken on a no nonsense tone that it rarely had outside of the hand-offs of their plane, “do it for me. Please, I, I don’t really think I can sleep alone.”

He’d never been able to deny one of his boys anything, they were his, and that meant it was his job to take care of them in the sky and on the ground. He moved to accommodate Jamie.

James briefly settles his head on Ev’s shoulder before sliding under the covers, “Thanks.”

Ev hums in affirmation, strangely frozen in place.

“Come on Ev, just lay back down.”

It was easier to move once he’d been told to, he supposed the military training had to come in handy eventually.

Dougie’s arm crossed over Ev’s chest and his breath hitched in response.

He wanted to say something, he felt like he was supposed to. Friends didn’t do this. It wasn’t normal.

“Ev, just let yourself stop thinking for a minute,” James had settled in and closed his eyes, “I can hear your brain sputtering like an engine on fire and you’re never gonna get some sleep like that. Just get comfortable.”

“How do you just, how is it so easy for you?”

Dougie opened his eyes, “Ev, I’ve trusted you with my life since the first time I climbed into a plane with you. Sharing a bed is nothing. Now go the hell to sleep. And hope neither of us dreams about that goddamned mission again. I’d take dreaming about Croz getting airsick if it meant a break from that.”

Ev snorted a laugh, and James smiled. His plan had worked, Ev had relaxed.

“Goodnight James.”

“Night Ev.”

[alienoresimagines]

Buck: Are we really going to let Ev and Dougie keep Croz?

Bucky: We kept Curt.

[anachilles]

“It’s getting crowded. Here, hold my hand.” for Blakely/Douglass. Please & thank you!

omg, fun! thanks so much for the excuse to write a lil ev and doug 🥰 -> prompt lists i'm currently accepting requests from: [ x ] [ x ] <-

"Single fillies. C'mon, boys, time to get the lead out."

Everett resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose in distaste at the lewd comment, choosing to let the buoyant atmosphere (sans whatever bizarre stand-off Bucky had just decided to pick with Harding) and passable-at-best whiskey warming his insides draw an incredulous, good-natured chuckle out of him instead.

He could feel Doug's eyes hot on the back of his head from where he'd floated towards the back of the pack, and glancing back in his periphery, he caught the moment Doug's gaze flitted away from him, and in the direction of Tatty Spaatz just to Everett's left.

They'd been circling each other for weeks now, Doug and the General's daughter, which in itself on its own was playing with fire, if you asked Everett. She hadn't been his first choice even out of just her friend group when they'd first met, and seemed to be very much aware of the fact every time he'd attempted to flirt with her since. She was a stiffed-lipped, straight-faced sort, deadpan too, and didn't generally entertain much of Doug's foolishness like a lot of the other Red Cross girls on-base. Suppose that's why he kept coming back around trying to crack the nut; he liked the push and pull.

Everett let Doug make a blatantly purposeful move in her direction, one the other boys all would've noticed, before quickly side-stepping into Tatty's space himself, offering his arm and a barely concealed smirk.

"Hey, Tatty. You know you can't resist..." he goaded, a knowing smile crossing her ruby red lips as she took the proffered arm, letting him lead her out towards the dance floor while Doug was still caught mid-stride, half a step behind.

Everett liked Tatty a lot, truth be told. Enough to have his own privately-held suspicions, bolstered by the uncumbersome kinship he felt when they sought each other out for a dance during these shindigs, the easy laughs and conversation that never even threatened to stray anywhere close to the belt. Enough to save her, at the very least, from another round of Doug's games, despite how she seemed to revel in finding new and creative ways to shoot him down.

After that, Everett spent the rest of the night much the same as he usually did at these things - drinking, chatting and chain-smoking mostly, interspersed with a couple of dances with some of the other girls he was friendly with. Not to mention having a front-row seat to Doug's shenanigans as he jumped from conversation to conversation like a bee pollinating flowers in the springtime, only rounding back to the centre table every so often to drop into the crew's conversation, slinging an arm loosely around the back of Everett's chair each time he did.

You'd think a guy might get jealous. Only, for better or worse, Everett knows his bombardier all too damn well by this point, every good pilot does; his switches, his tells, how he needs to be handled. He'd recall irrefutably how Doug's eyes had snapped to him first, and how Everett knew immediately where he'd end up that night.

Everett stuck around right up until the death of the party, the crowd thinning out as each quarter hour ticked by, the band having packed up their equipment, the bartender having called last orders long ago. The last guy in the group he'd been sitting with departed for bed, slurring his words and stumbling slightly on his feet as he went.

Suddenly, he felt slightly awkward sat at a big table by himself, and so moved to one of the many abandoned chairs far off to the side of the dancefloor and pulled his cigarette case from his inside jacket pocket. He settled one between his lips and started scouring his pockets for a lighter, but didn't manage to get too far before a figure appeared in front of him, playfully tapping at his legs with a foot where they lay loungefully outstretched.

"What's the difference between a hippo and a zippo?" Doug asked with a shameless smirk, producing his own lighter from his pocket, sparking it to life as if in demonstration, before chucking it in the other man's direction. He was aiming for the crease of Everett's lap, but Everett intercepted it quickly, catching it deftly instead.

"You've used that one already tonight," Everett quipped, taking a deep drag from the cigarette, before slipping the lighter into his own jacket pocket. Doug made no protest, just shrugged, still smirking. "You've got to get some new material if you want to keep up."

"It's a good joke, what can I say. Worth stealing if you get the chance." His voice sharpened into a point on that one word of the sentence, and Everett couldn't help but mirror the other man's smile. He raised a chin a little further, managing somehow to look down his nose at Doug from where he was sat, despite how he was stood over him.

"Is that what I did? That easily? I mean, it wasn't hard. Perhaps you've just got to up your game."

A faux-indifferent shrug. Another drag of the cigarette, coupled with a long, deliberately charged exhale. A beat of silent anticipation as Douglass sized him up and down, eyes narrowed in challenge as they held each other's gaze, but also edged with something else. Clearly loose from the liquor, Doug's crystalline eyes darkened a little, his bottom lip briefly rolling in behind his teeth as he bit down teasingly.

Doug's eyes did a quick scan of their surroundings. The club had fairly emptied out, the closest others to them at the far end of the bar area and well out of hearing range.

"It's, uh, it's getting a little crowded in here," Doug started, his voice pitched low and verging on sensual, a smile still twitching at his lips even as he was trying to pretend to be serious, and held out his arm in Everett's direction, like he was one of his dames. "...why don't you take my hand and we'll get out of here?"

Everett made a point of hesitating for a moment, letting out another long, slow exhale of smoke as he made Doug wait for it, resigning himself to acquiescing their little game. If the man was a dog, his tail would be damn well wagging he seemed so keyed up for it.

"Oh how flattered I am to be your back-up plan. More flattered about it than Tatty Spaatz is, at least," Everett joked as he rose from the chair, pointedly not taking Doug's hand, but sticking close to his side as they made for the exit side-by-side, both their minds fixed on the empty fort, their fort, ahead of them, waiting at the airfield.

Once they were in the clear, the night air hitting them both like a tonne of bricks after being cooped up inside there all that time, Doug chanced a cheeky swat at Everett's ass.

"Well, you're prettier than her. Prettier than all of them," he teased, though his voice melded into something sweeter, more affectionate than the words themselves would give away alone. "My number one back-up. Always."

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Prompt: "Oh, that blood. Yeah... yeah that's mine."

Pairing: Dougley

[Thank you for both the prompt and the crew list, my dear!!]

"...Fucking tree!" is all James hears over comms before a horrific crunch and then a hard stop that rattles him from head to toe. 

"Shit," James hisses as they all scramble to their feet from crash position. Thorton and Forkner follow after him, pulling McClellend between them. His head's lolling, but James can see he's trying to help them move him. "Out!" he yells. "Out! Out!"

"But–" Nord says, swinging his free arm behind him, gesturing to Saunders. His other arm is holding up Yevich, who's curled over himself, clearly in pain.

"I've got him!" Harry hollers. "Go!"

James makes sure Nord and Yevich get moving, and then turns to Harry. and sees blood all over Saunders. For a moment, all he can hear is his own desperate breathing, but then he's moving and tucking himself on Saunders's other side, helping Harry get him out of the fort. 

Everyone else is out when they step out, and Forkner run over to grab Saunders's legs and help hurry him away from the fort. 

Harry and James set Saunders down, and James checks his pulse. Thready and weak. There's blood bubbling from his chest. He won't make it.

"Fuck," Harry mutters and drags a hand over his mouth. He leaves a blood trail. 

James glances at the others and takes a few steps away from Saunders before dropping to the ground. Yevich is slumped against Nord. Nord's got his flight suit open and a rag pressed to a wound on Yevich's torso. Thornton's got McClellend propped up, clearly talking to try and keep him awake. Forkner drops beside them and shakes McClellend's leg. McClellend says something, and James can't hear it, but he sees the relief on Thorton and Forkner's faces. 

He looks at Jack, who meets his gaze for a moment, then focuses on Harry. His face is as placid as ever, but James sees the spark in his eyes. He knows they're all reeling from the close call. Knows as well as James that Saunders isn't making it back. 

"Crosby, how the fuck do you hit the only tree in fucking East Anglia?" Jack asks, voice even, but it carries. Enough to get everyone's attention.

"Fuck you, Jack," Harry snaps because he always does if you catch him when he's rattled. "You've got eyes in your goddamn head. Could have flown around it."

"My fucking navigator told me not to," Jack fires back, and James can't help the quiet chuckle of relief that escapes him.

Ev is suddenly at James's side, hand against James's neck. "You're bleeding," he says. He's got a cut across his nose and scrapes on his cheeks, but the rest of him is all in one piece.

Harry and Jack's bickering–which is making the gunners laugh and unquestionably Jack's goal in starting it–falls into the background. James can smell Ev's sweat and aftershave and see all the small cuts on the side of his face. The rest of him is all in one piece, and his fingers against James's neck help ground him. 

"It's not mine," James says. He glances at Saunders. The bubbles have stopped. Something cold shivers through James. Knowing Saunders wasn't going to make it doesn't make it easier to sit next to him now that he's passed. He closes his eyes and gets a good grip on Ev's flight suit.

Ev pulls his fingers away. James opens his eyes and sees the wet blood. His blood. "You weren't holding him on this side," Ev says.

"Oh," James says. He reaches up and touches the same spot. There's a cut there. James doesn't remember getting cut. He pulls his fingers away and looks at the blood. "Oh, that blood." He says, feeling disconnected. "Yeah…yeah, that's mine."

"Dougie," Ev says. He reaches out and curls his fingers around James's. Hides the blood in his own hand. "Dougie, up here."

James looks up and meets Ev's gaze. Ev looks scared and determined and grateful and exhausted. James's chest hurts, and he realizes he's holding his breath. He lets it out in an explosive rush and yanks Ev to him. They overbalance and fall on the ground. James doesn't let go. Ev doesn't either. 

"Did we hit a fucking tree?" James asks, staring up at the sky. 

"We sure fucking did," Ev says. 

Harry and Jack's bickering has quieted. James lifts his head. They're sitting shoulder-to-shoulder next to Saunders. Jack's got his rosary out. Last rites, James thinks. Harry's looking at Saunders's face like he wants to memorize it. 

James drops his head back to the ground and hugs Ev as tight as he can. "Great flying, by the way," he says. "You might get good at it eventually."

Ev huffs a laugh, and he turns his head, presses his mouth to James's cheek. "One more down," he says. "One closer to home."

James is out of words. He keeps Ev close and stares at the sky they fell out of and hopes they can keep getting one more closer to home.

[p-and-pen]

Zippo? — Dougley

[daysofxavierspast]

[4o4notf0und]

sorry but I really need to make a separate post about this. I can't just hide it in the reblogs they're too important to me😭😭

*cough* *cough*

[kafka-ohdear]

no because people are going through clegan's break up and these two just sitting there judging the whole world together.

i'm going to set your house on fire if you say they're not married-

[sleepy-hyperfixations]

i made these specifically bcs @daysofxavierspast asked (pls excuse my shaky hand work and picsart editing software)

[trashbag-baby666]

Everyone’s going to have to deal with my brain rot but here’s some Brady/Ham HC’s <3 likes and reblogs highly appreciated!!!

MOTA Masterlist!

•Hambone grew up with just him and his mom. His father dipped when he was too young to remember. Although he tries to make half assed appearances.

•A true mommas boy!

•He fr has abandonment/rejection issues because of his father…

•He also has an extensive amount of anger issues. Especially when he was kid.

•He would get into fights at the playground…that’s how he ended up with the gold teeth…

•He literally pushed Brady off of the monkey bars at recess on his first day and broke his arm.

•The next day he sat next to Brady at lunch and signed his cast.

•“why are you signing my cast when you’re the one who made me need it?”

• “signing my work, duh”

•Best friends from that day on.

•Hams got fucked up teeth okay? He’s had braces through most of middle school and all of high school.

•When he gets his braces tightened Brady brings him soft food for the couple days of pain.

•He has an orange cat named Garfield

•internalized homophobia…that’s all I gotta say…

•Ham tends to pent up his emotions and just not talk about them.

•His coping technique? Showing up at Brady’s at ungodly hours of the night to have sex with him.

•Now for Brady he grew up in a house of all women. he has two moms and three little sisters. He’s a little girly pop, okay?

•Brady is a rich boy but it’s kinda on the down low. His family lives in the same neighborhood as the Clevens if that tells you anything.

•Brady has OCD and Ham really is the first one to notice that all these symptoms have been growing and piling.

•Ham urges him to tell his moms about it because it got to a point where he couldn’t manage and suppress it anymore.

•After he’s diagnosed it was hard for awhile because he felt so weak about it. He made Hambone promise not to tell anyone about it.

•He’s on a cocktail of SSRI’s and it took five ever to find the right mixture for him.

•Brady’s true passion in life is to become a fashion designer. He always dresses himself well and accessorizes with lots of gold jewelry.

•He makes Hambone model the clothes he makes.

•See, their relationship is highly complicated…Gale is the only one who knows the extent of their mess of a situationship. (Gale and Brady work together at a local grocery store.)

•Ham is lowkey kinda toxic to Brady for a hot moment…his communication skills are shit and he doesn’t know how to manage his emotions.

•There’s one night that curved their relationship I’ll def be writing about later…

•When Ham finally comes to his senses about his feelings he flat out asks Brady out while they’re cuddling together.

•"brady will you be my boyfriend."

•"yeah of course dumbass, aren't i already at this point? idiot.”

•They sealed the deal with a kiss.

•They kept their relationship private for months until Prom rolled around.

•They rolled up to the function in matching cheetah print blazers Brady made them and cool sunglasses.

•When Bubbles comes over to take their picture for the year book. Brady grabs Ham by the lapels of the blazer and smashes his lips into his.

•Bubbles literally goes 😮 behind the camera and pushes the shutter button.

•Bubbles runs to tell Croz.

•Croz goes and tells John.

• John rushes over to Gale and literally out loud goes “Did you know Ham and Brady were dating!?”

•Gale smirks because he already knew.

-

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Brought to you by me, @ihearteugeneroe , and @mangokitkats

[spinteresting]

They look so good here!

From Elliot Warren’s insta highlights.