#Ginger Sledge

[weirdsociology]

just watched a movie where one of the ADs was named Ginger Sledge and holy shit i wish that were me

[qtipshelmetflower]

on another note happy saint paddy’s day to my favorite war leprechauns !! ft honorary gingerbread man ray person bc i’m p sure the real ray person has red hair ?? don’t feel like confirming that ❤️

[coldarena]

the pacific x ghibli part 2

[orangethreads]

watched approximately five minutes of the pacific and opened up after effects….. eugene sledge idk anything about you but ily

[anatomical-puppet]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN it’s spooky wonders time >:) decided to put my special interest to use and draw them all as horror characters!

[characters belong to @abd-illustrates]

further elaboration on my choices and general rambling under the cut!!

alastor: patrick bateman. man i don’t even know 😭 it was the first thing i thought of and then i physically could not think of anything better. and also it made me giggle. annoying wealthy white guy, checks out enough for me. i don't think he'd like huey lewis and the news tho

dock: leatherface. i mean c'mon, he had to be leatherface. i did actually briefly consider making him pinhead because of the black leather and the fixation on pain and all that, but leatherface felt more correct. gave him the sledge because i was NOT drawing two fucking chainsaws for this. absolutely not

lorelei: carrie white. largely went with vibes on this one ngl. lorelei's obviously not nearly as sympathetic as carrie lmao, but i thought the haunted stare and the scary telekinetic powers fit for her :) also i kinda just wanted to draw her covered in blood . shrug

bandy: chucky. listen i wanted to make him a horror clown SO bad but none of them felt right :( wanted to make him a killer klown from outer space but they're so bootnasty looking and it wouldn't have carried well, and then i was debating making him tim curry pennywise but it just didn't connect well in my head. so now he's chucky :) ginger little asshole. the batteries being swapped into his hand was supposed to be a reference to the scene in the first child's play where karen realizes chucky doesn't have any batteries in, i thought that was fun. i also desperately wanted to make him the djinn from wishmaster but that was not gonna work out so i didn't even bother entertaining the concept fhdsjfhdjs

diana: pearl. country gal !!! also just thought she'd look soooo pretty in that red dress from the end, and i think pearl's energy in the scene where she's chasing mitsy felt sufficiently dianacore. diana isn't that manic obviously but u get the point. i want her to feed someone to an alligator!!!

lance: ash williams. the stupid fuckboy energy is PALPABLE, i think lance would absolutely get up to some goofy evil dead 2 hijinks omg are u kidding me. also i think if you told him that having a chainsaw hand was an option he would cut his own hand off immediately

[hbowardaily]

This is a side-poll for the Ultimate HBO War Character Poll event. Currently Finals is ongoing from the event.

[ww2yaoi]

sledge should’ve had a really bad sunburn in a couple scenes. no way that pasty ginger wasn’t getting fried to a crisp in the pacific. he should’ve been the colour of a tomato for half the show

[lizisodd]

Sledge how is your ginger self still so pale? Slathering on the SPF before each battle.

[david-sharkthot-webster]

the thing about sending Sledge to club tropicana AKA the Pacific was saur missjudged because that little pale ginger boy is NON-TROPICAL

(how do i know this? my gpa was too pale and was deemed non tropical and was therefore NAWT sent to africa, italy or the pacific they stamped his white skin with europe- yes its laffable lads)

u want that boy to go to islands where a nasty sunburn is his enemy number one? forget the Japanese shield him from the sun!! no water no sun lotion no sunglasses fucking hell he's peelin like an easy-peelr satsuma from M&S babes!

[volunteerfelinedetectives]

Wrote this chaotic little piece for @cherrycokeisnice, basically everyone gets snowed in together. Cleo/Jake, all the friendships, and Moxie/Ellington if you choose to read it that way. Huge thanks to @asouefanworkevent for organising the exchange

The first day went off without a hitch. Moxie and Kellar were of course the first to arrive, Moxie bright and eager as always as she stepped out of the Bellerophon taxi, typewriter for once not in her hand.

Instead she was helping Pip and Squeak carry in all the admittedly rather surprising stuff Cleo had sent them out to find over the previous week, blankets and houseplants and cooking utensils and lamps and absolutely anything colourful, to match with Cleo’s rebellious addition of more and more bright clothes to her wardrobe. Kellar had somehow obtained an enormous antique metal umbrella stand which he was trying, without much luck, to haul up the front steps. Ornette Lost and Lizzie Haines arrived last together, Ornette dragging a sledge loaded with wallpaper and paint through the quickly falling snow and Lizzie staggering under the weight of a heap of curtains and canopies in a rainbow of colours and fabrics.

“Is that everyone?” asked a slightly exasperated Jake, his clothes covered in flour from a mishap involving Moxie, an overfilled storage cupboard and an enormous high-tech blender they were trying to carry.

“Not quite,” replied Cleo calmly once the entirely responsible journalist was out of sight, reaching up a slender hand to brush some additional flour from Jake’s cheek. “I have an associate coming to live with us for a while. In fact, I need to go and meet her in the library now.” And with that she grabbed her coat and bolted out the door, leaving her sweetheart bewildered and suspicious in her wake. Jake shrugged, and went to help Moxie out in the kitchen.

The morning was a blur of constant activity and almost as constant accidents, and by the time everyone settled down to lunch (stuffed mushrooms involving more herbs and spices that anyone in the group apart from Jake could even name) they were all regretting not arriving in more casual clothes. The source of all the chaos was not incompetence on the part of any of them, indeed the living room was looking far more beautiful than it ever had from the work of endless interior designers hired by Ignatius Knight. Instead the problem was, bizarrely, that the place was overrun with stray cats. Yes, you read that correctly: glassware was crashing to the ground everywhere, wallpaper had been scratched down as soon as put up, and a particularly large ginger moggy seemed to have decided Moxie’s typewriter was a bed. This was the last straw. Moxie had her suspicions about who was behind this, and fortunately one of the troublemakers had left a convenient trail of painted paw prints for her to follow. She grinned to herself as she trailed them up the stairs and along the corridor to the study door; mysteries were almost never this easy to solve.

The door to the study was slightly ajar, and it the creak it let out as she pushed it open was loud enough to make her jump back before tentatively making her way in. All four walls were lined with huge and heavy-looking books, and at the back of the room a leather-cushioned chair faced a massive desk carved from a disturbingly familiar dark wood. Slowly, the chair begun to swivel round, and Moxie’s heart threw itself against her chest as she saw who was sitting there. Hair so dark it made the blackest of ink look grey, eyes almost luminescently green. She wore a long, luxurious black silk dress Moxie was pretty sure was Cleo’s, and her long fingers were resting on the head of a white Persian cat with electric blue eyes, which bared its teeth at Moxie as she tentatively approached.

“Hello, Moxie,” Ellington greeted in a slow, honeyed voice, smiling a smile that might have meant anything.

Out of all the people Cleo could have been inviting over? (She had overheard, of course). Ellington?

Moxie did her best to disguise a grimace as she looked the older girl in the eyes. She cut straight to the chase.

“What are you planning this time?” Ellington’s smile faded and her brows furrowed as she began to slowly steer the chair away from Moxie. “I don’t know what you mean. I needed a place to hide from the police, that’s all.”

“You’ve completely flooded the house with every stray cat in town, Ellington.”

She grimaced at the interruption, but carried on speaking.

“I was looking after all of them when I was living in Black Cat Coffee and I don’t know where else they could go. Cleo invited all of them here with me, she told me we’d be safe.”

“After everything that happened? She still trusts you?”

“Listen, Moxie. I’m not another story to be told or case to be unravelled. I’m not here to hurt anyone or sabotage anything. I’m just trying to live, like we all are. The only difference is that I don’t want to simply forget it all.” To Moxie’s horror, there were tears welling up in Ellington’s eyes.

“Wait!” Moxie called out, but she simply pushed past her and ran out of the room, feline draped round her shoulders like a living, breathing fur collar. Moxie wanted to be here, she really did, but she was still uncertain of Ellington and whether she really did mean well. She drifted towards the window and watched the snow that had begun to fall outside, concealing all of Stain’d-by-the-sea’s secrets and dangers beneath an unassuming canopy of white. Part of her imagined that once the snow melted away the town would be rewritten, all of its dark history washed away as it emerged like a butterfly from a cocoon. She knew that made no sense, but what was it that Lemony had once said? ‘There’s nothing wrong with occasionally staring out of a window and thinking nonsense, as long as the nonsense is yours.” Something like that, at least.

She was startled out of her meditation by Cleo’s voice calling her up to the guest bedrooms, sounding more than a little exasperated. She found Cleo sitting just outside a huge, empty room, furniture cluttering the hallway around her.

“I’m sorry if I worried you, I just need someone strong to help me get all this stuff in here. “

Moxie nodded, ready for the task. She was used to carrying things, and any opportunity to spend more time with Cleo was an opportunity she was willing to take. They were in reality very distant cousins, but Cleo seemed like a sister to her nonetheless. They got to work, Moxie carrying or pushing the furniture to the right place and Cleo stringing up fairy lights and heaping blankets and pillows onto the bed, chatting all the while about their universally agreed favourite subject, literature.

“You need to read Fahrenheit 451 if you haven’t, it’s a masterpiece of dystopian fiction,” Cleo was saying as she attached a hanging basket of ferns to a hook at the top of the wardrobe.

“I have,” Moxie replied, bending down to tighten a loose screw on the desk. “I know it’s unfair to compare two completely different writers but when it comes to classic dystopia I’ll always prefer 1984.”

“Much as I love 1984 as well, Fahrenheit 451 feels so much more real to me, like that’s slowly becoming our world.“

A good natured argument does indeed firm up a friendship, and this particular one became so engaging that Moxie completely forgot to ask who the room was being prepared for until dinner that evening. Crab linguine, to be precise. Moxie spent a long while thanking Jake for preparing the food, as well as helping to lay the table, so by the time she could sit down there was only one remaining seat between Kellar and Ellington. She reluctantly took it, avoiding the older girl’s gaze until she felt a tap on the shoulder.

“Thank you for helping with my room,” Ellington whispered, twirling the pasta absentmindedly round her fork.

“That was yours?” Moxie asked, a little too loud for her liking. She wasn’t too keen on the fact that she’d unwittingly done a large favour for Ellington, but thought that perhaps at least appearing to trust her would be the best way of finding out what she was planning. So she lowered her voice, leaned in and said, “Look. I’m sorry about accusing you of doing something bad earlier, I just find it hard not to question everything after all that business with— with your father.”

Ellington shivered; actually trembled despite the warm fire burning in the hearth, and for a moment Moxie was afraid she’d said the wrong thing entirely. But then Ellington turned to her and their eyes locked together as she replied.

“I know exactly how you feel. I spend most of my time afraid I’ll never be able to trust anyone ever again. If even the kindest man I knew was capable of such treacherous things…,” She didn’t finish her sentence, but the second clause hung in the air between them like an echo. …then there is no telling what anyone will do.

They ate the rest of the meal in an amiable silence, trying to keep track of the others’ conversations but finding that they faded in and out, the mingling voices unable to compete with the endless questions and contradictions swimming through their minds. The plan was for everyone to stay the night, and they did, but for reasons unique to each person nobody went upstairs to bed. Instead those who managed to sleep at all did so on couches and chairs in the lounge, books still open on chests that rose and fell like an untroubled sea.

“It’s… 5 o’clock in the morning…” Jake blearily checked his watch then turned to face Pecuchet ‘Squeak’ Bellerophon, who had been vigorously shaking his shoulders for the past three minutes.

“It’s the snow!” Squeak exclaimed without so much as an apology or a ‘good morning’. “It’s too thick and the doors won’t open. We’re snowed in!”

Jake grimaced as he pulled himself up to look; he was hoping to tend to the garden that day, but it seemed like that would be impossible. Sure enough, the snow outside was several feet deep, and so dense it was impossible to even open the door to shovel a path. He tried the other doors and found it exactly the same. They were well and truly trapped. He sighed and went to get the others up from the numerous pieces of furniture they were draped over, with the exception of Cleo who hadn’t slept a wink that night and was now standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand, slathering concealer over the dark circles beneath her eyes. She headed for the door the moment she saw him, not even giving him the chance to say good morning before she disappeared up the stairs. No doubt she was extremely busy with something, he thought; he’d get her a bit of breakfast, something to keep her going during the day. He brought the omelette up to the study and poked his head round the door; she was writing furiously in a black notebook and seemingly didn’t even see him as he placed the food on the desk and a kiss on her cheek. Cleo worked so unbelievably hard; he acknowledged that fact with that rare, perfectly balanced mix of admiration and dread.

“105…106…107…” Cleo wasn’t the only one already going stir-crazy from being stuck inside. Ornette had seen potential in the endless scraps of wastepaper left behind from the previous day’s activities and was now attempting the age-old tradition of folding a thousand origami cranes. Once they were done, she decided, she would string them together into a huge canopy of folded paper birds, her most ambitious project yet and a symbol of all the hopes and wishes she had for her re-emerging town. Already there were birds made from every possible type of paper in every nook and cranny of the house, and Kellar Haines, who had been watching with eager curiosity and gathering the creations together for her, could see that she wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

And Moxie was sitting at her desk in the guest room that had been specially set up for her, just writing and writing and writing. Getting everything from the day before down in great detail before typing out an impulsive opinion piece on Lemony Snicket, which had very few good things to say. She was right in the middle of a particularly scathing paragraph when she heard a knock on the door connecting her room to Ellington’s. Ellington herself breezed in without waiting for Moxie to answer, brushing a stack of books carelessly aside as she perched herself on the end of the desk. Moxie wished she could be annoyed at the way Ellington treated the world like she owned it, but the truth was that everything in her vicinity did seem to suddenly revolve around her like the Earth’s gravity pulling meteors into orbit.

“Sorry to intrude,” Ellington said after an awkwardly long period of Moxie looking up at her in silence. “But window in my bedroom is tiny and I needed somewhere well-lit to read without going downstairs and waking anyone up.”

Despite it being seven in the morning, everyone was already awake, although Ellington had no way of knowing that.

“What are you reading?” Moxie asked, eager to strengthen the bond that was growing between them. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But was she an enemy? Whatever she was reading, it was obviously good, as she didn’t seem to hear what Moxie had said. So she moved her typewriter onto the bed, keen not to disturb her for some reason she couldn’t possibly understand.

The Associates were quieter than they had ever been in one another’s company, as if the snow had buried all their memories, their shared aspirations and dreams. But one thing that couldn’t be buried was how safe they felt around each other, the knowledge that they could make mistakes without everything they had built together falling apart. Which was why Jake hadn’t bothered Cleo in her study at all that day, however much he yearned for her company. He understood her need to always be working hard, always striving to compensate for everything her parents did. But sometimes she forgot that she too was worth something, and when 4 o’clock in the afternoon struck and she still hadn’t come out or said a word to anyone, he decided to finally knock on the door. She opened it and her hands were deathly pale and trembling, exhaustion in her icy blue eyes which she had been trying to fight with the five or six now empty coffee cups scattered around the room. She pulled him inside and kissed him almost desperately, and he leaned into her, keen to give her the support and affection she clearly needed so much. Cleo was on one side of him and the study wall was on the other, and in the moment the whole world seemed that small, that perfect. She pulled away, a rare sheepish smile creeping up her face. “Sorry, sorry, I just— I really needed that,” she whispered breathlessly, running a hand through Jake’s hair as she pulled him down onto an ottoman in the corner of the room.

“Don’t worry,” he replied equally breathlessly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything with me, I’m here when you need me, here because you need me here.” Cleo was chaotic sometimes, troubled and secretive, but Jake knew he could never love anyone else as much as he loved her.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, resting his head on Cleo’s shoulder as she picked up a book from a nearby table, taking the break she needed at last.

While the two of them sat together in silence and Kellar was still trying to gather the folded paper birds scattered all over the building, something rather exciting had been unearthed in a suitcase upstairs.

“You have what?” Ornette shouted, gazing at Ellington bug-eyed. “You could sell that for enough money to get you safely out of the country for the rest of your life!”

“Well, maybe I love these songs too much to do that. It’s nice to have music almost nobody else has heard, something I’ll only share with the right people.”

“She’s right,” Lizzie chimed in. “If everything can be bought or sold or invested then it loses its original purpose entirely. Auction that CD off and it’ll never be played again, just sold off to richer and richer people at higher and higher prices.”

Ellington reached out a long fingernail to press the button on the CD player, and placed the iridescent disc in its slot, and Ornette was overcome with a rush of endorphins as she heard a familiar voice sing new melodies, new words.

“Hold on, I know someone else who might want to hear this,” Ornette interrupted, moving towards the telephone, picking it up and dialling a number.

“Moxie, come up here! You won’t believe what Ellington has! No, not a weapon, not anything even remotely sinister. Illegal, yes, but purely noble in its intentions. Yep, a pirated CD containing Melanie Martinez songs that were never officially released and might not be found anywhere else in the world. Yes, I’m serious.” Ornette hung up the phone and spun to face Ellington and Lizzie with a thrilled expression.

“She’s coming!”

“So his name actually was Lemony?”

“I couldn’t believe it either until his sister told me. It always sounded made-up, like the kind of name you’d tell a company to avoid getting newsletters.”

She was always going to mess this up, Moxie thought to herself. The plan was to keep a close eye on Ellington and prevent her from getting into any mischief, and it wasn’t supposed to involve sitting cross-legged on Ellington’s bed with her hands temporarily incapacitated by the black varnish drying on her nails, courtesy of Ellington. It definitely wasn’t supposed to involve Moxie having the time of her life hanging out with her. Maybe it was just the excitement of her first proper sleepover, but she was finding Ellington surprisingly fun to be around when they weren’t directly in the midst of intrigue. The evening so far had been a blur of music and games and conversation, over the course of which they had all ended up with completely new hairstyles. Ellington’s hair had been plaited and wound into a spiral at the back of her head, Moxie’s straightened into a chin-length bob, Lizzie had a new fringe which cast her eyes in shadow and Ornette’s was let down from its usual yellow scrunchie and pulled into row upon row of tight braids decorated with colourful beads. Moxie thought they all looked transformed, shifting rapidly from the uncertain girls they were six months ago to the wilder, freer ones they were becoming. The connection she felt to them was new, unfamiliar and exciting, and even though she still had her doubts about Ellington her bed was so comfy and she was tired…

The rays of the sunrise shone through the curtains over the East Window, waking her up the next morning to see Ellington bringing over a tray on which were two steaming cups of coffee. Really, Moxie? Falling asleep in Ellington’s bed?

“Sorry I didn’t wake you up,” she said gently, brushing a lock of hair out of Moxie’s face. “You just looked so cosy there and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Don’t worry, I think the couch in here is even more comfortable than the bed!”

Moxie reluctantly took a sip of the coffee Ellington had handed her, and discovered with reluctant gratitude that she had prepared it with milk, sugar and cinnamon, adding a delightful mild sweetness to a normally bitter drink. The coffee reminded her somewhat of Ellington herself that morning, everything dark and sinister had somehow melted away and she seemed kinder and less villainous than she ever had before.

Meanwhile, Cleo awoke to the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, something that would be comforting to most people but made Cleo’s heartbeat quicken and her breathing stop. Here she was, in her bedroom in the family home, the familiar smell of cinnamon rolls that were never for her wafting up at her from the kitchen. Had she only dreamed all the friendships she had made over the past six months, or that she was free from her parents at last? Without stopping to get slippers or a dressing gown, she bolted down the stairs to the kitchen where she was greeted by a rather bemused Jake.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” he enquired with a nervous smile. “I made you breakfast.” Cleo managed an equally nervous smile back as she hoisted herself onto the kitchen counter and pulled Jake closer to her, kissing him softly on the forehead.

“Everything’s alright, Jake,” her voice tapered off ever so slightly. “It’s just that I’ve never actually had a cinnamon roll before. Zada and Zora always made them, but my parents had me on this ridiculous diet. I wasn’t even allowed a slice of cake on my birthday.”

“That’s dreadful, Cleo! We need to fix that, right now.” With mock solemnity, he fetched the tray from the other end of the room and handed her one of the warm pastries, oozing with cinnamon and cream cheese frosting. She bit in, and in that moment she could have sworn she had never tasted anything quite as heavenly.

“I can make them for you more often if you’d like,” Jake told her, grabbing one for himself from the tray. And this, she always said, was the moment the full extent of her newfound freedom hit her. It was also the moment she ran to the window and discovered the snow had melted just enough for them to go outside again.

Back upstairs, Moxie and Ellington had almost finished their coffee.

“You know,” Ellington declared suddenly, “I might actually try and sneak out today given the snow’s melted.”

“It has?”

“Not completely, but enough for us to leave the building.”

Ellington pulled on a black trench coat that was draped over a chair in the corner, and half-ran, half-leaped down the main stairs in the centre of the building, landing in the hallway with cat-like precision and gliding towards the door.

She knew that this was a rather silly idea, but she was never the kind of girl to allow herself to be contained for long. The world, or at least Stain’d-by-the-sea, was beckoning. As she turned the handle on the door she felt Moxie come up behind her.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, and Ellington smiled deviously to herself.

“Of course you can, a walk is almost never any fun when you’re alone,” Ellington replied, doing her best to sound casual. “But I’m not carrying that typewriter.”

Moxie laughed, flinging open the door with her typical enthusiasm and taking off running down the path towards the town while Ellington lingered behind, bunching up snow in her gloved hands.

The snowball hit Moxie on the back of the head, almost knocking her hat off. She rapidly turned around.

“What was that for?” she shouted.

“What was what for?” Ellington replied innocently, hurling another snowball in Moxie’s direction. To Ellington’s utter astonishment she caught it and threw it right back, hitting Ellington before she had time to recover from the surprise and dodge it. Of course, there was now no way of deescalating the situation, and of course, like with most snowball fights, others began to join in. Namely, Pip and Squeak, who had observed the action from a window and had jumped at the opportunity to cause mischief. Much to Ellington’s chagrin they were fighting firmly on Moxie’s side, and she didn’t stand a chance until Ornette dashed in front of her out of nowhere, carrying a small arsenal of snowballs she had been surreptitiously preparing in the yard. Soon everyone was involved; Jake and Kellar joining Moxie’s side and Cleo and Lizzie teaming up with Ellington. It was the first snowball fight any of them had had in years, and it was wonderful just to play like the children who they’d never been allowed to be, all system of teams and sides quickly forgotten as they ran shouting and laughing down the slightly less empty streets, much further than Ellington was technically supposed to go from her hiding place in Cleo’s home. Many years later, Moxie and Ellington would always say this was the moment that any trace of a rivalry between them disappeared, and they were just two girls on a winter morning, holding hands as they ran to catch up with the others by the sea.

Cleo drew her coat around her as she sat down on the pier overlooking the restored sea, the dams holding it back from the town’s edge having been long since destroyed. She shook the remaining snow from her hair, accidentally elbowing Jake who had come to sit down next to her. He rested his head on her shoulder and took her hand in his. “You’ve done so much more for the world this year than most people do in their lifetimes, and you’re still just sixteen. Look around at what you’ve made, Cleo,” She turned and saw Ellington smiling shyly, drenched through from the still-raging snowball fight, and Moxie draping a coat over her shoulders, their faces illuminated by the golden dawn. She saw the cobbled road cutting through the houses to the town square, and the empty pedestal awaiting the planned memorial to a great sub-librarian they once knew. And she saw the pen-shaped building she once looked upon with shame rising high above the town, no longer looking like it intended to cross it out, but instead poised ready to write a new beginning. “We’ve got whole lives ahead of us. Let’s go live them.”

[suugrbunz]

Hi! firstly I've to say that I love your blog sm :'))

I wanted to ask you if I could send you a ship request :3 for band of brothers and the pacific :)

I'm around 170cm (5'5"), kinda pale, brunette-ginger hair to the shoulders, blue eyes, average weight, half italian half ukrainian.

I'm an INFP with just a couple of friends, I find hard to keep small conversation, preferring deeper ones. also I consider myself a really loving, romantic and calm person, not into parties or whatever. As I'm finishing classical studies I developed a huge passion for the Divine Comedy and history. I'm really great at cooking and I'm into handcrafting, traveling (preferably by train), taking pictures, playing the piano, watching films and cats.

I love pleasing people (in a good non-toxic way) by trying in any way to be as helpful as possible. my love language is a mixture of all of them but mainly acts of service. I often feel as people don't really understand me, so I tend to keep quiet all the time, but ending up venting on my diary. I believe my biggest dream is to get married to a loving man and start my own family :) <3

💕💕💕

I had to set this up seven times because Tumblr kept glitching. I have a basic outline for my ship posts if everyone hasn't noticed. Every time I'd have it set up, it just wouldn't save. I'm not angry at anyone I just somehow found the worst glitch. And I need to express that information. However, I wanted to originally state that, “This took me a bit of time because I was attempting to figure out how to set up two ships in one post. I am a bit particular about how my posts appear, especially my ships.”

꒰ I ship you with . . . Richard Winters εïз ꒱

Your first meeting was by chance, you two had accidentally backed up into each other at a small gathering hosted by a mutual friend. Initially, he was apologetic for his clumsiness.

The apologies seized as he appeared a little awestruck by you. Though, he wasn't sure how to handle that. His face was red and he nodded as you accepted his apologies and explained it was just a simple accident, no need for so many apologies.

need i say when he initially fell in love? I think it's obvious babes.

By the end of the little party (?), he had decided to ask you on a date. Just a restaurant date, it was a place he had gone to a few times before. It was one of his favourites.

Your first kiss was (shockingly) initiated by him!! One night he couldn't help but kiss you, it was such a perfect moment. You two had gone to a dance ?? sockhop ?? together.

He kept you close most of the dance, you didn't really have to interact with anyone but each other. As a song draws to a close, he pulls away from you. Only to press a kiss to your lips.

I could picture Richard reading you stories when you're tired

or helping you cook/cooking with you.

He'd buy cute DIY projects for you two.

Annie's Song by John Denver (my mother used this as a lullaby for me, it's such a sweet song.)

꒰ I ship you with . . . Eugene Sledge εïз ꒱

You two met in a bookstore, he saw you from afar and was fairly interested in the books you had held in a stack. For a minute, he finds it hard to approach you.

Obviously, he is an introverted individual and that introversion can turn into shyness around someone he fancies.

He felt a crush develop around the first time you met... Though, a crush isn't love.

Love developed after a few dates. He wasn't sure how to go about confessing, so he wrote a note. After dropping the note off at your house, he booked it. (I feel this in my soul)

Your first date was at a movie theater, really simple and calmed his anxiety. He was fearful about talking to you again now that a hangout is labeled a date.

Being quiet and enjoying each other's presence was the perfect way to handle his overwhelming emotions for you.

Your first kiss was on the forehead ... After a few dates. A few dates after that, he gave your lips a rather delicate kiss. His arm gently wrapped around your waist.

He writes you poems and letters... It's so sweet. Anything he cannot verbally communicate is perfectly communicated in writing.

The song I assign you two would be Like Real People Do by Hozier.

[angelloverde]

"Mo Soul" Player Playlist 10 November

Down To The Bone - Urban Jazz

Diggs Duke - Something In My Soul

Slow Joe & The Ginger Accident Feat. Yael Naim- Cover Me Over

4hero - The Awakening

Otto - Bob (Edu K Mix)

Camiel - Last Days Of Summer

Jack McDuff - As She Walked Away

Marvin Gaye - Trouble Man

Ziad Rahbani - Abu Ali

Peter Gabriel vs James Brown - Sledge Hammer Machine (DJ Prince Mashup)

Snowboy Feat Noel McCoy - Lucky Fellow

Jerome Van Rossum - Nublado

Italian Secret Service - Vox Media

Tony Joe White - Woman With Soul

Giorgos Hatzinassios - Pursuit

If you really want to enjoy music and help musicians and bands, buy their lp’s or cd’s and don’t download mp3 formats. There is nothing like good quality sound!!!

(Angel Lo Verde / Mo Soul)

[ulkaralakbarova]

Thirty years after serving together in the Vietnam War, Larry, Sal and Richard, reunite for a different type of mission: to bury Doc’s son, a young Marine killed in Iraq. Forgoing the burial, the trio take the casket on a bittersweet trip up the coast to New Hampshire – along the way, reminiscing and coming to terms with the shared memories of a war that continues to shape their lives. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Larry ‘Doc’ Shepherd: Steve Carell Sal Nealon: Bryan Cranston Reverend Richard Mueller: Laurence Fishburne Charlie Washington: J. Quinton Johnson Ruth Mueller: Deanna Reed-Foster Lieutenant Colonel Wilits: Yul Vazquez John Redman: Graham Wolfe O’Toole: Jeff Monahan DAFB Guard: Dontez James Mother (Irene): Tammy Tsai Angry Father: Richard Barlow Grieving Mother: Cathy O’Dell Rental Truck Employee: Jane Mowder Anorak: Richard Robichaux Raincoat: Jerry Lee Tucker Hyped-up Employee: Marc Moore Phone Shop Clerk: Kate Easton Mrs. Hightower: Cicely Tyson Front Desk Motel Employee: Sarah Silk Leland: Ted Watts Jr. Jamie: Lee Harrington Larry Jr. (voice): Samuel Davis Church Member (uncredited): Brian “Wolfman Black” Bowman Bar Patron (uncredited): Kelli Culbertson Train Passenger (uncredited): Chris Dettone Bar Patron (uncredited): Chris Drexel Bar Patron Guy in Booth (uncredited): Eric Frank Airmen / Morales (uncredited): Jason Gerrard Marine (uncredited): Adam Hicks J Tinsley Amtrak Baggage Handler (uncredited): John W. Iwanonkiw Cellphone Store Patron (uncredited): Daniel James Train Passenger Toting Gifts (uncredited): William Kania Train Passenger (uncredited): Trudi Kennedy Bar Patron (uncredited): Daniel Lamont Bar Patron (uncredited): James Lloyd Bar Patron (uncredited): Tiffany Sander McKenzie Angry Train Passenger (uncredited): Kelly L. Moran Train Passenger (uncredited): Christopher Nardizzi Bus Passenger (uncredited): Phil Nardozzi Mourner (uncredited): Rebecca Phipps Train Passenger (uncredited): Dwayne Pintoff Church Member (uncredited): Sofia Plass Driver (uncredited): Eric Rasmussen Senior Airman Morris (uncredited): Mario Ruiz Amtrak Passenger (uncredited): Brian E. Stead Train Passenger (uncredited): Gary Lee Vincent Train Passenger (uncredited): Jeremy Waltman Funeral Attendee (uncredited): Zoe Xandra Film Crew: Producer: Richard Linklater Editor: Sandra Adair Producer: John Sloss Producer: Ginger Sledge Makeup Artist: Sharyn Cordice Executive Producer: Harry Gittes Music: Graham Reynolds Director of Photography: Shane F. Kelly Production Design: Bruce Curtis Costume Design: Kari Perkins Set Decoration: Beauchamp Fontaine Novel: Darryl Ponicsan Executive Producer: Thomas Lee Wright Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Tom Hammond Sound Designer: Justin Hennard Art Direction: Gregory A. Weimerskirch Visual Effects Producer: Brice Liesveld Visual Effects Supervisor: James Pastorius Makeup Department Head: Darylin Nagy Executive Producer: Karen Ruth Getchell Makeup Artist: Patty Bell Makeup Artist: Christopher Patrick Movie Reviews: tmdb15435519: One of the funniest films I have watched in some time. Great writing and acting. Fishburne, Carell, and Cranston make up an unlikely trio that embarks on an epic journey of forgiveness. At once critical and respectful of the US, a reminder that what makes a country is those that choose to live and die for it.

[littleharpethcrossfit]

Saturday, 21 October, 2023.

It was a brisk 45 degrees at the early workout, but it warmed to 60 degrees by the start of the 0930. A perfect sunny Fall morning at the Barn.

The Admiral and Birthday Boy Armando led our mobility warmup.

Warmup #2

Demo'ed by Dana.

4 Rounds

10 Banded Good Mornings

10 Banded Thrusters

Armando's 51st Birthday WOD

1 ROUND

10 Bench Press ( 185 / 135 / 85 )

Row-Ski 1,972m or Bike 3,944m

18 Deadlifts ( 225 / 185 / 125 )

51 Sledge-Hammers

10 Minute Interval For Rest And Re-set Equipment

Bernard's 47th Birthday WOD

1 Round

10 Shoulder To Overhead ( 135 / 95 / 75 )

Row-Ski 1,976m or Bike 3,952m

24 Power Cleans ( 135 / 95 / 75 )

47 Sledge-Hammers

Scores:

Post Time For Armando WOD and Time For Bernard WOD.

HOWEVER, Chicken-Legged Larry gave me some heart-felt suggestions regarding the posting of scores, and since I am always and forever in tune with the old "2 heads are better than 1" (except in marriage), I realized that posting scores as one combined number was a superior method. Even better would have been scoring the elapsed time from start to finish including the 10 minute rest. But since we didn't post that way, I did all the math, combining everyone's scores and collating them as (thanklessly) always.

Shane=25:34** Bernard=25:41** Larry=26:03** Armando=26:20** Ed=27:58** Elisa/Kayla/Alicia=28:06 Robert=28:30** LSU=28 "something" Nathan=29:30* Rodney=29:31 Jon=29:33 Warren A=29:38 Joe=30 "something" Mitch=30:56 Dyer=32:09* Tim=32:30* Cherrita=33:45 Coach=35:54 Tom=35:56 WG=38:16 Faith (The Kid)=39:39 Shannon/Michelle=41:00 Sandy=42:00 Average Dave="Personal Records" Many failed to post scores. Like the lovely Ruth Anne.

Notes:

Considering these two Birthday WODs were designed by unprofessional programmers while under the influence of copious alcohol, our gang performed them with enthusiasm and negligible glomming.

Jon was sponsored by Rodney and is a Pediatrician known professionally by many of us. FYI, Robert has a jealous and monetarily competitive disliking for all Medical Doctors. Billed as a mono-structural athlete (runner), Jon seemed to do well under Rodney's tutelage and left with a fine BSN T-shirt. Michelle is Shannon's Sister and today was her first visit to the Barn. I think Michelle was intimidated and did not want to work out with us, stating her inclination to just go for a run in the park. With some arm-twisting and locking the Arboretum gate, I got her to work out with Sister Shannon. And it was a beautiful thing to watch. I'm sure they made fond memories today. She left with a T-shirt also.

Usually Kayla brews us iced coffee on Saturday mornings. Timmy even brought extra ice. Alas, Kayla didn't bring the coffee fixings today, mumbling the excuse that she "didn't come here from home". She left in a hot-rush immediately after the WOD like maybe she left something boiling over a hot fire, or maybe left the shower running.

Miss Linda returns from visiting our North Carolina Kids today, and she is going to be crabbier than usual when she sees all her pre-cooked meals that she left for me untouched in the fridge. She will know that several of my favorite Barn Girls fed me with their own home-cookin'. Usually the resident dog would have profited from this situation, but Miss Esther took Ginger The Pup home with her for the last few days.

This commercial showing Domino Pizza delivery persons flying thru the air delivering hot Pizza's without benefit of parachutes or drones is going to result in an outbreak of youngsters who identify as birds getting killed jumping from planes or other high places. Kayla brought a SoCal girl-friend to the Barn last week who I believe thinks she is a bird. Sammy D wasn't here that day, else they woulda bonded like Gorilla Glue.

Sunday at 0730 and 1 PM. I hope Kayla can make it.

[dailydoseofweb]

Things became odd once we arrived at Tabitha’s doorstep.

……..

“I just do not understand why you are insisting I be in the lead. You guys are always ragging on how awkward I am.” Webster grimaced, glancing back at the rest of his companions. Joe had a firm grip on his arm, both steadying and making sure that his fiancé was unable to bolt. Following behind the lead pair were Grant and Heffron, both snickering softly between themselves with Burgin, Juergens, Shelton and Sledge close behind.

“You’re the entire reason we’re having this dinner. Tabby will recognize you and then we can do introductions.”

“I don’t feel ready. I am…underdressed! I don’t even have my best shoes on. We should go back.” Webster wasn’t proud of it but he was panicking. This dinner was a big deal. It was the group’s first chance to make friends with locals. Webster wanted everything to be perfect. If it was just him and Joe then he wouldn’t be as worried. Hell, if it was just his boys then he wouldn’t feel as much panic but throw in Shelton? Even with his threat hanging over his head Shelton looked devious and plotting. Yes, Shelton was the real wild card.

“We’re already at their door. We’re not going back for a pair of shoes that you couldn’t find in the first place. You look fine David.”

“No more stalling Dictionary! Knock on that door or I’m sending Palm Tree in to charm the pants off of those dames.” Shelton smirked nudging his much taller boyfriend playfully.

“The only pants I’ll be charming off of anybody are gonna be yours or Burgie’s or Sledge’s.” Juergens’ smirked at the smaller man.

“Enough flirting. I’m going to knock on the door. Make yourselves presentable, please.” Webster huffed before taking that final step and raised a shaking fist to knock on the cheery yellow door. Everything would be fine. ‘Tabitha already liked you. And she said her Juni would like you too. She would not have extended this invitation if she didn’t mean it.’ Taking a deep breath, Webster knocked on the bright door before him. The familiar face of his favorite barista greeted him skeptically. Tabitha was a tall, stocky middle aged woman decked out in black slacks and a deep purple flannel dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows showing of toned freckled pale arms. Her curly ginger hair was pulled back in the same loose bun Webster had seen it in back at the cafe.

“Was beginning to question if you were going to spend all night on the porch.” She glanced at the group gathered before her stepping back from the door and gesturing them to enter. “We can do introductions inside. Juni’ll want to meet everyone so might as well get it done in one go.” The men followed their host inside with Webster throwing a glare over at Shelton for the quiet snicker after Tabitha’s last comment. They were ushered into a cozy tv room were the first thing Webster noticed was the abundance of art and plants simultaneously. It seemed no matter where he looked, he encountered one or the other.

“You have a lovely home. Who painted this?” Webster had become fascinated with a painting depicting an unknown shoreline trapped eternally in the transition from dusk to the darker night time hours. Stars twinkled from the only depths of the water reflecting their twins in the darkening sky. The sky itself was a blend of blues, purples and one lone strip of orange. “I really admire their use of color theory to tie everything together.”

“Thank you!” An accented voice startled Webster from his observation. Standing just inside an unnoticed doorway a small woman beamed up at him. Flowy. The first thing Webster could think of to describe this woman was flowy. From her hair to her dress, everything was loose, airy and seemed to be designed to allow movement. She wore a short sleeved purple tunic dress that went just above her ankles with long cuts on both sides running up to her hips, showing the loose fitting white pants she wore underneath. The second thing Webster noticed was that this other woman, no doubt the ‘Juni’ Tabitha frequently referenced, was indeed rather small. Juergens, already the giant amongst them, made this woman look like a child. “I painted it!” She beamed at him once again. Webster was impressed. He had so many things he wanted to ask this ‘Juni’ but his husband to be gently elbowed him in the side before he could go off into a tangent.

“Now for those introductions. I’m Tabitha, please call me Tabby, and that’s my wife Juniper.” Tabitha gestured for the men to introduce themselves. After an awkward pause, Webster cleared his throat and introduced himself.

“Pleasure to meet you. David Kenyon Webster and this,” he put a hand on Liebgott’s shoulder, “is my fiancé Joseph Liebgott.” Webster smiled and pointed behind him. “Then there’s Chuck Grant and his husband Edward Heffron and behind them are Eugene Sledge and his boyfriend Romus Burgin, followed by—“

“—their boyfriend Merrill and his boyfriend Lewis, who is also dating the two of them.” Shelton chimed in, pointing at himself, then Juergens before gesturing to Sledge and Burgin. “There’s also a healthy bit of will-they/won’t-they tension between me and the Professor over there, ain’t that right David?” Shelton winked, smirking at Webster trying to goad the other man into saying something. Webster flushed in indignation. ‘As if I’d ever even consider it! The nerve!’

“You take that back right now Shelton!” Webster growled taking a step towards the shorter man. He reached out intending to grab Shelton by his shirt and pull him closer to say some scathing remark. Bright laughter froze him in place.

“My! What a lively bunch. I look forward to what you all say over dinner if you’re all so entertaining!” Juniper clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Let’s go sit at the table. Introductory shit is done and I’m hungry.” Tabitha gestured for everyone to follow her past the hidden doorway and into the women’s dinning area.

“Aww, Tabs! Didn’t you want to see what would happen?” The men heard Juniper whisper to her wife. Shelton smirked up at Webster as he tried to pass by.

“The little lady likes a show, Professor. Whadda’ ya say we give ‘er one?” Webster grimaced at the sleaze that Shelton intentionally added to his tone, knowing that he did it to mess with him more than he meant anything towards Juniper. Stepping into the Cajun’s space, Webster pulled Shelton up by the collar of his shirt so the two could be eye to eye.

“Listen Bayou Boy. Reign. It. In. Remember my promise from earlier? Don’t make me act on it.” Webster said lowly, then he released his grip on Shelton’s shirt and gently smoothed out the newly gained wrinkles in the fabric before turning and leaving through the same door their hosts went through moments prior.

…..

Things went normally from there. Small talk here and there, complementing the food, the home and exchanging pleasantries. Then it was discovered that Tabitha, Grant and Juergens had found common ground conversations kept flowing. Occasionally, Burgin and Joe would be pulled into the conversation and the two took to whatever topic like a duck to water. Out of everything that happened, I can still say without any doubt that one of the best things to come out of the night was seeing my Joe relaxed and connecting with more people. I too had a wonderful conversation with Juniper with Sledge adding to the conversation and making me think more deeply about artistry then I perhaps ever had.

Everything was going so well. Aside from a few hiccups.

It was almost to well.

I really should have read the signs.

[joemazzhello]

making of ‘the pacific’