#Twelve O'Clock High

[vietlad]

Gregory Peck in Twelve O'Clock High (1949) dir. Henry King

[fayestardust]

Hello, lovelies! Episode 25 of Rosie the Reviewer is out today. @almost-a-class-act and I talk about 12 O'Clock High, which we highly recommend you watch before or after listening to this episode. Sam also reads a little from the book, which we recommend, too. In case anyone is interested in hearing what it's like to be on a WHF506 tour, I talk a little bit about my experiences on the recent one in Cambridge, which were all good! This makes seven tours for me now, which is wild but delightful. This last one was all about the 8th Air Force, and we had some of the actors from MotA on tour with us, which was nothing short of special.

Listen to the episode here, and if you haven't, please subscribe, we'd appreciate that.

You can also read Sam's book recommendation on our website.

[seriemorder]

twelve o'clock high / band of brothers, episode 3 "carentan"

[misterivy]

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

Best Gregory Peck movies and performances:

1. To Kill a Mockingbird - Robert Mulligan (1962)

2. Roman Holiday - William Wyler (1953)

3. The Big Country - William Wyler (1958)

4. Twelve O'Clock High - Henry King (1949)

5. Cape Fear - J. Lee Thompson (1962)

6. Spellbound - Alfred Hitchcock (1945)

7. The Guns of Navarone - J. Lee Thompson (1961)

[radio-therookie-blog]

I love this movie and this scene 🥰

[pepperbag76]

“ Gregory Peck costumed as a WWII American Air Forces bomber pilot for the movie Twelve O’Clock High (1950). Photo by W. Eugene Smith. “

Source: @HGACinema

[everythingi10ved]

Song: Melanie Martinez - Nurse's Office (audio edit Version)

[radio-therookie-blog]

This is fantastic!! ☝️🙌👏👏😌

Happy Birthday Greg Peck: 5th April 1916 - 12th June 2003

[movie-titlecards]

Twelve O'Clock High (1949)

My rating: 6/10

[aeiraladventures]

Twelve O'Clock High film poster (1949)

[radio-therookie-blog]

*stand at attention

[unrinconmas]

[pennyserenade]

i hate modern day war movies because they’re all so fucking boring and they usually are so graphic and macho, even when they’re historical, but old hollywood war movies? there’s some good ones and that is 100 percent because the girls were traumatized. society was so bleak. this is bascially my long way of saying if you want to watch a movie about war, look for an old hollywood one 

[radio-therookie-blog]

Yes sir ☝️❤️

Gregory Peck - Twelve O’Clock High

[calumfmu]

hoping everything bends

Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader (based off this request)

You didn't plan on meeting him that day. It was an accident really. A mistake that should've had you fleeing from the door, but the second you laid your eyes on him, you knew this was an opportunity you couldn't pass up. (2.9k+ words)

cw: 18+, mdni, smut, p in v, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, rough sex, older!Steve, mean!Steve (in the best way possible), age gap (mid-twenties reader),

soon to be one of my favorite fics that i've started, thank you to the original anon who requested it! title is based off of cable management by violets crush, i've taken some inspiration from the lyrics for the pov for reader. so check it out <3

You didn't plan on meeting him that day. It was an accident really. Rushing into the office, you tripped over the high Louboutin's on your feet, stumbling over nothing as you reached down to adjust them. You repeatedly pressed the open door button on the elevator, cursing as it took its sweet time opening. You were running about fifteen minutes behind, waking up from a drunken slumber about 45 minutes ago, New York City traffic betraying you as always.

A receptionist looked up at you through her small frames, grimacing slightly--something you had assumed was to be a smile.

Giving her your last name, you patted your ring finger against the gloss of your lips.

"Twelve o'clock?" She confirmed, typing away at the monstrous computer in front of her. You nodded, straightening up as she pointed you in the right direction.

"Left or right?"

"Right!"

Rapping your knuckles against the tall wooden door, your skirt suddenly felt too short, too unprofessional to meet with this lawyer. He was an old family friend apparently, someone who had helped your dad with his 5th or 6th divorce, you couldn't remember at this point. He was spoken highly of, someone who handled business straight to the point--assisted your family name in getting everything they wanted.

A soft call beckoned you in, the door opening under your grasp to reveal floor to ceiling windows, highlighting the city that stood in front of you. The room was empty, save for a few pieces of furniture, metallic against the stark white of the room.

A man stood with his back to you, leaning against one of the windows as he peered out, a black coffee in his grip. He spoke on a phone in his other hand, frustration dripping in his voice as he discussed terms with them.

"Have a seat, I'll be right with you."

You tip toed as best as you could to the desk, finding a seat in one of the chairs. The desk was organized--meticulously so, a single pencil laid next to a ballpoint pen, aligned with a black leather bound planner. A computer was pushed in the far corner of the desk, neat and organized as the rest of the items, a single keyboard placed in front of you. There were smaller items in the opposite corner, a small lamp, fake plant, framed picture of what appeared to be a group of people.

You ran a finger along the length of the desk, testing your theory if there were to be a speck of dust found anywhere. There wasn't.

"Sorry about that," the man hummed, sliding out his chair to take a seat. Glancing up at him, a small gasp escaped your lips.

"Oh, you're cute," you whispered, smiling to yourself as you took him in. His hair was pushed back out of his face, styled so his gray speckled hair poked out from his hairline, framing his face perfectly. Thin wire glasses adorned his face, resting on the tip of his nose bridge, a pair of plump pink lips beneath them.

A blush crossed his features briefly before he cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at you.

"And you smell like alcohol," he shot back, dragging his eyes over your frame. Winking at him, you pulled up the hem of your top, brushing your fingers over your exposed breast bone.

"Long divorce, long night."

"Ah," there was a slight smirk on his lips, a glint in his eyes that you decided would be dangerous for you. You could deal with that later though. "Last name? I don't remember having a twelve, but I may have overlooked it."

He opened the planner in front of him, scanning the pages for your name as it fell from your mouth. Frowning slightly, he hummed, leaning over to type something in his computer.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the door flung open, an even older man appearing in the frame. He didn't even look at you, rolling his eyes as he leaned against the metal, fingers gripping his nose bridge, eyes squeezed shut.

"Remind me why I do family favors, again?" His voice was gruff, irritation lacing his tone. "Second time, we've tried to reschedule, and this chick won't show up."

The man in front of you cleared his throat, glancing at you as he began to put two and two together.

He cut the man off from the speech that began to pour out of his mouth, "Uh.. Harrison?"

The older guy stopped, eyes finding you for the first time. His eyes widened as he straightened up, adjusting the tie that sat around his neck.

"I'm in the middle of something here."

"Right, sorry, Harrington," he fled just as quickly as he arrived, the door shutting behind him. Reality hit you as it made a soft thud that echoed in the otherwise quiet room, you sinking into the chair a little.

"I take it you're supposed to be his twelve," that smirk only deepened as he looked at you, a sheepish look crossing your features. Smiling innocently in return, you sucked at your teeth, running it along them.

"I won't tell if you won't."

Shaking his head at you, he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs wide as he pulled at his jacket lapels, huffing with the movement. Your eyes trailed down his form, lingering at the fabric where it bunched around his abdomen, dipping down into his groin.

"I'm going to be honest, kid, I don't know if I have room for another client right now," he began, speaking with his hands. He didn't notice your curious gaze, his own eyes focusing on his desk as he gave you the run down. "What do you have to be? 30? 31? Harrison, there, he's the best money could buy in this industry right now, with the most time. Used to young clients too. You're better off with him."

Pulling your eyes away from him, you shrugged, crossing your legs. Your skirt pushed up a little bit, exposing more of your thigh than would be considered appropriate for the setting. You pretended not to notice him look at you as you leaned over the desk, elbows perched on the cool wood.

"''M 25," You gave him the same smirk back, watching the way he briefly looked away, muttering 'Jesus Christ' under his breath at your age. "And I have all the money in the world to want you."

His eyebrows raised at your suggestive tone, clicking his teeth together as he thought of what to say next. You beat him to it.

"I think you'd be pretty good for me," your voice was low as your leaned over the desk, your chest beginning to spill from your strapless top that hugged your body. His gaze was unfaltering, focused on your face as you began to tease him.

"I doubt that's hardly appropriate or professional."

He stood up from the desk, adjusting his jacket once more before holding a flat hand out, gesturing towards the door.

"Ma'am?"

Your face fell as the rejection hit you, your mouth falling open in surprise. You weren't used to this, instead having men fall at your feet before and during your marriage even, used to throwing out the tens, hundred even of suitors that you plague you during the weeks.

Standing up, you leaned a hand against his desk, the other resting on your hip. "Sir."

He let out a deep sigh before running a hand over his perfectly styled hair. Knowing you weren't going to move, he crossed his hands over his chest.

"You're stubborn, aren't you?" His voice was firm as he rounded the desk to your side, landing feet away from you. From this proximity, you could smell the musk from his cologne, filling your nostrils with a slightly sweet scent. It only turned you on more.

"Don't you have to in this industry to get what you want?"

A genuine smile cracked through, warmth from his eyes showing as he (finally) dragged his eyes over your figure.

"Smart girl."

Those words did wonders for you, warmness pooling between your thighs as you took a step towards him. He backed away slightly, maintaining his professional composure.

"Harrington-"

"Steve."

Your smile deepened, your teeth digging into your bottom lip. "Steve. I don't see a wedding ring, so what's the problem?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" He didn't back away from you as you cornered him, placing a hand on his chest as he leaned against his desk, one of his hands grazing your thigh. He looked down at you, his eyes slightly hooded as you tilted your head up at him.

"Is it my age? Is that scaring you?"

Steve remained silent, darting his tongue out to lick at his lips. You could see the hesitation on his face, your question answering himself.

You trailed your hand up his chest, dancing your fingers along his neck, up to the nape of his hairline. "Well, I can promise you, I know what I'm doing."

A small nod left him, his head leaning down slightly to breathe you in, his lips parting. You craned your neck up to brush your mouth against his own.

"I could even teach you a few things."

A moan escaped you as he crashed his lips into yours, all professionalism leaving through the window. His hands found your waist, gripping the skin there as he spun the two of you around, lifting you up so you sat at the desk.

Your legs immediately came up to wrap around his hips, your hand pulling him further into you. He tasted like mint, his tongue finding its way between your parted lips, making claim there.

You leaned back against the desk, laying flat against it as he pushed you down, leaning over your body as his hands roamed free, grabbing at every exposed part of skin you had to offer. The largeness of them had you gasping into his mouth, eyes rolling back behind closed eye lids as you imagined them elsewhere, dipping inside of you.

Pulling away, he pressed kisses to your jawline, the scruff on his face leaving redness as he sucked in a few marks, nipping at the skin as he led himself lower.

"Steve," you moaned, gripping at his hair. He leaned back, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he pushed up the material.

"Don't touch the hair," he quickly said, pressing a kiss at your chest before sinking to his knees. You rolled your eyes at him, spreading your legs anyways as he slid down your panties, throwing them to the side. "I'm at work."

You could barely spit out a response before his mouth made contact with your wet cunt, licking you open immediately. A strangled moan was choked out, your hands shooting out to grab onto anything you could find. The organized items you recognized from before fell onto the floor, loud clatters filling the room.

His tongue left you briefly, Steve shushing you as he hitched your knee over his shoulder. Returning his mouth to you, your back arched, the wetness between your legs increasing.

You didn't know if it was him or you that had you dripping, your core tightening as he worked his magic, tongue flicking in and out of you, one of his fingers nurturing your clit under its touch.

"Steve, Steve," his name fell out of your mouth in a mantra, your eyes squeezed shut. Reaching behind you, you curled your hand over the edge of his desk beside your head, pushing your hips into his face even further.

He moaned at the push against his face, shoving his face in even deeper. His mouth alternated between licking at you, diving his tongue in and out of your wet hole and leaning up to suck at your clit, working fast as you fell apart around him.

"I'm gonna-"

It was fast, over just as quickly as it happened, your legs tightening around his head as you came, orgasm coursing through the length of your spine. Your eyes opened, staring up at the high ceiling as he tongue fucked you through it, running his thumb over your clit.

"Such a good girl." His words were addicting, praises that had you wanting to continue. You knew it was bad, just how good this felt, but you didn't care, it had been so long since you had a decent lay, this attention feeling like heaven.

Whining, the over stimulation felt like a strange vice, something you knew you shouldn't have, but so pleasurable at the same time. Steve removed himself from between your legs, leaning up to return his mouth to yours. You tasted yourself on his lips, the area around his mouth dripping wet with your release.

His hands were pulling at his belt, pushing at his boxers, releasing himself in a swift motion. Your lips were pushed together so sloppily, loud smacks filled the air as he ran the head of his cock through your folds once, twice, three times before sliding in.

Snaking your legs around his hips, you pulled him deeper, the stretch burning so right.

"Slow do-oh fuck--please, slow down," he muttered, resting his forehead against yours. One of his hands rested on the desk beside your head, the other trailing down the length of your leg. Stopping at your heel, he freed your foot from the constraint of the Louboutin, it already hanging half way off.

Tossing it away from the two of you, he pulled your leg up higher on his hip. You cursed at him, two thousand dollars being carelessly thrown to the other side of the desk.

"I'll buy you a new pair, relax," he said, pressing one more kiss to you before rearing his hips back. You expected him to slam into you, only for him to carefully ease his way back in, rolling his hips in a way that had you shaking already.

You moaned, dragging your nails up under his shirt. The crisp material bunched up under your hands, pulling half way up his back.

Your words came out stuttered, groans falling from your lips as you struggled, "Perfect, this se-season, ah, right there, is to die f-for. Fuck, Steve."

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes, as he sat up, hand beside your head leaving the desk to press against your mouth. He muffled your moans, thrusting into you repeatedly as he picked up his pace. The desk was shaking under the movement of your two bodies, his computer threatening to topple over.

The ruddy head of his cock pressed against your walls, hitting that sweet spot over and over. You could barely hold back your screams of excitement, grateful for the large hand that muffled them from fully coming out. They would have sure been heard from miles away, urging concern from his colleagues who shared the floor. Hell, maybe even a few floors down.

Steve was getting close, his head falling back in pleasure as he repeatedly bottomed out, pushing in deeper each time compared to the last. You pulsed around him, dripping as he drew you closer to your second orgasm.

His hips stuttered a few times before he came, filling your cunt deep as he pushed in one last time to the hilt. That final push was all it took for you to be sent over the edge, pulsing around his twitching cock as it was nestled deep inside you.

His hand left your mouth, running over the side of your cheek as you leaned into it, spent from the high. He tested himself once more, once small push of his hips inside again before you whined, reaching down to press your fingertips against his stomach. He got the hint, pulling out of you with a squelch that filled the air, white ribbons of cum spilling out of you.

He grabbed your hand in his, pressing a small kiss to the back of it as you reached down with the other, feeling the mess he left behind.

"Good girl."

Groaning, you shook your finger at him in a warning, sitting up on your elbows. "Don't start that again, please."

Your legs fell from around his hips as he took a step back, adjusting himself back into his pants. He took a look around the room, as if someone would be watching, his hand brushing down his face.

"Same time tomorrow?" You asked, pulling down your skirt as you stood up on one heel, the other on the desk chair pushed opposite of you two. You turned on the desk, leaning over to grab it as you pushed your ass in his direction, teasing him one final time.

As you turned around and sat up, you noticed the vacant look behind his eyes as his eyes lingered on you, pants being left unbuckled, his belt hanging loosely from the loops. "I actually have a twelve tomorrow."

You shook your head at him, walking over to him as you grabbed the discarded pair of panties that were draped over one of the open drawers. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you smirked up at him, "Better start making some arrangements then."

The look on his face returned to what it was during the heat of the moment, a dark stare with his mouth parted open in want. You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, a smear of the remnants of your gloss left on the skin.

Tucking your underwear into the waistband of his pants, you took a step back from him, pulling your skirt down even more.

"Hold onto those for me, yeah?"

Another mutter of 'Jesus Christ' was heard as you walked over the door, swinging it open to reveal the long hallway you came from. You were giddy as you smiled to yourself, the fun of this separation finally coming to fruition.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open! <3

a/n: long awaited I know! but here it is! I hope you loved it anon, I love you. I decided to put this as as stand alone instead of in the request because I wasn't sure how long it was going to be.