#Vera charleston

[yellowpsyduck]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

Thomas Shelby x Carleton!Reader Warnings: Smut, slight size kink, Tommy attracting posh girls as always

“Are you fucking my sister-in-law?” were the very first words that came out of the young socialite’s mouth. They were directed to the man dressed in the grey suit with the flat cap, as he caressed the grey filly in front of him. 

“Such crude words from such a lovely young lass, eh?” the man looked rather amused at her choice of words, much less, her more than direct approach of interrogating him.  

The words she’d spoken weren’t quite what he had expected from a girl of her caliber, she seemed far too proper to opt for such language. 

 But she held her ground that girl, with her fashionably short bob and her velvet dress that would probably fetch enough pounds to feed a small family for a week in Small Heath. She didn’t waver under his icy stare, nor did she retreat her questioning glare. In fact, to his surprise, she arched her carefully sculpted eyebrow, as though prompting him to explain himself. 

She must be a London girl, he noted, such brazenness could only mean that she must've lived a sheltered life, never having to put her guards up in fear of gangsters and certainly never having to do anything with filthy old Birmingham.  

No, all she had to do was look pretty and polite and pop open bottles of champagne, dancing the night away to the Foxtrot and Charleston. She didn’t have a clue who he was, didn’t have a clue what he did and certainly didn’t have a clue as to why he always kept a Webley MK VI in his gun strap. 

Tommy found it quite refreshing. He couldn’t remember the last time someone talked to him so incredibly audaciously, if it wasn’t to barrage him with threats to his life.  

“I believed I asked you first, Mister” came the reply from her tinted red lips, looking rather displeased that her question was met with another. 

“Well, a lady like you shouldn’t worry about adult matters.” he replied as he fished his pockets for the metal cigarette case. “Anyways, she's your sister-in-law you say?” he offered her a cigarette, a habit of his which he’d developed from constantly being surrounded by chain smokers. 

“She is, or she was.” she took him up on his offer, as he lit it up for her, “Ian was my brother. His passing was hard on all of us; for her more than anyone else. So, I come up here any chance I get to keep her company, but now I see that’s no longer needed of me.” she said as she eyed him from head to toe, sizing him up almost.  

“Don’t let me be a bone of contention now.” he replied, his couldn’t possibly add another trouble to his list, the Epsom and Major Campbell were already a handful, to say the very least.  

“Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” A hint of surprise glazed over his eyes as he looked at her delicate features. “I’m quite relieved she isn’t shutting herself up." she trailed off, "And you’re certainly not the worst pick for a suitor.” 

“Now don’t go sizing me up for a wedding suit, Miss.” he said taking another drag of his cigarette “May and I are just.... acquaintances. She’s training my horse for the Derby, this beauty over here, you see.” he motioned to the grey horse behind him. 

“Oh.” She looked at him with an abashed humour in her eyes. “Then you must pardon my poor choice of words. I’m sure you won’t take the silly musings of a girl to heart.”  

She flicked the cigarette bud to the ground, stomping it lightly with the heel of her dainty Mary Janes. 

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Vera Carleton.” she extended her hand to him, her lips adorned with the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen in his entire existence. He took her hands in his, their sizes differing starkly. “I’m Thomas. Thomas Shelby.” 

“Well then Mr. Shelby, now that the previous fiasco is behind us, I must be off. My friends will be waiting for me, I’m afraid. There's a new club in the city called the Babylon, you might’ve heard of it, they’ve invited this jazz band from the Colonies. My friends say it’s all the rage these days.” she explained to him. 

Thomas knew she was one of those girls. The ones that never had to worry about a thing in their lives, except for what they’d wear to a social dinner or what diamonds to pair with what dress and he knew that a part of him wished he could be as carefree as them. But life had other plans for him, a runaway father, a suicidal mother and a fucking war to top it all off. 

But now with the Shelby Company Ltd. and his copious side ventures, he hoped that one day, his children, if he ever found a woman that is, would have a life that mirrored that of the captivating girl in front of him.  

“All right then, Miss Carleton, you have a good night now.” he bid the girl farewell as he watched her leave the stables. Her dress swaying with every step she took, she looked very frail, he noted, but not the kind that you’d see in the streets of Watery Lane, more so the kind of frail that was in vogue amongst the ladies of London. 

As the night progressed, it became abundantly clear that May Fitz Carleton and Thomas Shelby weren’t just acquaintances, although, that should’ve been clear from the moment he accepted her proposal to stay the night in the manor, more like a fucking castle, he thought. 

As night fell, Thomas found himself striding to the doors of his gracious host's, she’d left it unlocked, of course. Neither were novice adolescents; they knew what they wanted, and they certainly weren’t abashed about it. Their business was completed rather quickly though, she seemed unable to fully open her heart out to the deed and he had a myriad of thoughts occupying his mind.  

Breakfast was a rather lovely affair. May chose not to bring up their late night discretions, for which he was rather thankful for. In fact, she seemed content with it being a passing liaison, finally someone that’s on the same page as him, he mused. 

The lavish spread of food in front of him was overwhelming and he resigned himself to an Earl Grey and a toast. It seemed it was just May that occupied the house, seeing as though they were the only two to grace the table. Their conversations were pleasant, ranging from their shared love for horses to the ones they would be up against at the Derby, when lo and behold, the doors to the room sprung open to reveal a particularly chirpy Y/N, what she would be so cheery for, this early in the morning, he didn’t know. 

“Morning, my dearest. Hope you had a lovely night.” The older of the two woman remarked as she kissed her cheeks. “I’ve told Louisa to prepare those Vienna rolls you so love. She should bring it out any minute.” she stated as the maids served the new occupant with a steaming cup of tea. 

“That would be lovely, God knows I’m terribly famished.” she strutted into the room, smelling of daisies as she walked past him and kissed her sister-in-law. “Morning to you, my dearest Mayflower.” 

She took the seat opposite to his, paying him no mind and absentmindedly blowing into her tea. “Y/N darling, this is Mr. Thomas Shelby, he’s my guest. I'm training his horse for Epsom. " She motioned to the gentleman. "Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s Ian’s sister and the youngest of the Carleton bunch.” 

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” quipped the younger girl, pretending as though they were truly meeting for the first time. 

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Tommy went along with her play, opting not to reveal their meeting the previous day. 

“Madam, there’s a telephone for you. It's from Sir Ascot.” May was quickly ushered out of the room to attend to her business, leaving the unusual pair together. 

“So, are you going to keep staring or will you tell me what’s on your mind?” Y/N remarked as she forfeited the staring game they’d had going on.  

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the girl in front of him was intriguing for sure, and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Tommy didn’t know other women besides Ada and Polly that would speak so nonchalantly with him, and he found himself quite enjoying this refreshing exchange. 

“Well, you’ve basically been undressing me with your eyes, since yesterday. So, shall we do it in my room or yours?”  

This. Tommy wasn’t expecting. 

He'd expected a whole lot of other things but not this. 

The girl didn’t bat an eye as she said those words, simply sipping on her tea, as though they’d only exchanged pleasantries with each other. Tommy was about to respond when a maid brought a plate of Vienna rolls to the table and diligently served her young Miss. 

As soon as her departing figure left the room, Y/N’s eyes darted back up to his, sucking slowly on the gold cutlery as she did. She seemed to be waiting for his reply and Tommy wondered how she’d react if he told her 'No'. Surely, such a girl as lovely as her wouldn’t be used to hearing those words of refusal. All she’d have to do was bat her pretty lashes, pout her soft lips and no one would dare refuse such a divine creature.  

And Tommy was by no means a saint. A posh girl like her asking him to fuck her wasn’t something that happened on the daily. And again, Tommy might be a man with great restraint, but he was a man after all.  

He'd be lying if he said his pants hadn’t gotten the slightest bit tighter at the sight of her sucking and licking on the spoon, that when he was balls deep inside May the previous night, all he thought about was the girl in front of him. Even now, as she sat in front of him, in her lace dress, he could see the slightest imprint of her breasts against the fabric of the dress.  

Tommy took in a deep breath, setting the teacup back on the porcelain saucer, when finally, he muttered “You don’t know who I am, do you, little girl?” For if she did, she wouldn’t have uttered those words, much less, even sip her tea so peacefully in his presence. 

“Should I care?” she asked in mock concern, “All I know is that you’re a well dressed gentleman that’s got a nice deep voice.” Truly, that was all she looked for. If a man had a deep enough pocket and an ever deeper voice, she’d go weak in the knees, and she knew May wouldn’t associate herself with a man that didn’t have the former. 

“Y/N Carleton, you’re truly a work of art, eh?” he chuckled, genuinely in awe of her intrepidity. 

“Well, that amongst other things.” came her quick reply, flashing him a cheeky smile. 

“Do you think she’ll notice? If were both absent from the table, that is.” he asked in reference to May, she sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate his advances towards her sister-in-law. 

“Don’t you worry, Sir Ascot is a hard fellow to deal with, he’ll talk her ear off for hours.” she stated unconcerned as she took strode out of the room, glancing back at him. 

“In fact, forget about the bedroom, there's a storeroom over there that’s unfrequented. God knows your staring is making me wild as it is.” She turned and left the room, the gentle sway of her hips beckoning him to follow her. And follow he did.

Thomas fucking Shelby following after a girl, his brothers would’ve had a field day had they learnt of it. 

But he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted her.  

He wanted to fuck her till she screamed his name. 

He wanted to fuck her till she couldn’t walk. 

He wanted to fuck her till she was a crying mess. 

The storeroom was quite spacious, like most of the rooms of this manor. But he wasn’t here to admire this. No. He came here for her. As soon as the latch to the door was shut closed, their lips crashed together. 

Oh! He could have had her then and there, her lips were so incredibly soft and moulded with his so fucking perfectly. Her hands found themselves in his hair and she tugged lightly, making him crazy at her touch, while his hands kneaded her supple buttocks. She might’ve been slim, but she was certainly well endowed in just the right areas. 

She soon broke the kiss and quickly worked to unbutton her dress, looking at him as he did, and that smile. That fucking smile of hers. Thomas didn’t know anyone more lovely than her. 

She stripped down to her chemise, her garter bands visible underneath. He couldn’t control himself at the sight of her lovely frame. His hands soon brought the straps of her flimsy cover down, exposing her delicate brassiere which was also discarded on the floor. 

She looked glorious standing in front of him, in just her garter bands and stockings. He would fuck her with those on he decided. The sight of her thighs in those were making the tent in his pants so painfully obvious. 

She undid his suspenders, kneeling down as she pulled his trousers down, freeing his throbbing red cock from it’s tight restraints. She blushed a little at the obscene sight, sure she’d seen her fair share of cocks, but none as majestic as his. Tommy Shelby had drawn him to her because of his deep voice, but his huge cock, now that was a brilliant surprise. The London chaps she’d been with just couldn’t compare.  

She licked the precum that was dripping from his tip, making him shudder in anticipation and little by little she licked the length of his entire shaft, making sure to drag her tongue along every crevice. She held her cock in both hands, it’s sheer size making her marvel. As Tommy looked down, the sight below him was eliciting a dark reaction inside of him, her little dainty fingers wrapped around his manhood. God! She looked so very small. 

She sucked his cock, trying her best to take in as much as she could. She was diligent, for sure, doing her best to make him happy, taking small breaths, accommodating her throat for his dick and working her hands constantly along his shaft or his balls. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” he breathed out raspily. She was an angel.  

An angel sent just to fuck him. He didn’t know any woman or whore that was doing the things she was. But here she was, a little thing like her milking his cock like a good girl. 

He grabbed her hair, lightly bucking his hips inside of her mouth. She seemed to be suffocating almost, his big dick choking her. Almost. 

“Just like that baby, just like that.” 

Fuck! She was such a good girl, holding her cries till he released his load inside of her mouth. “Swallow.” he commanded. She was a glorious mess, doing as he commanded her.  

Her eyes were watery, and her mouth was thoroughly abused, but she still looked at him with devotion laced in her beautiful eyes. 

He lifted her off the ground and laid her on the table like surface. He spread her legs wide open with his hands and marveled at the sight. Her throbbing cunt, glistening in arousal looked so warm, so inviting. He kissed her on the lips once more and dove in to eat her out, but a small hand covered the entrance.  

“She might be done soon, so, please just fuck me.” she cried, so obviously starved for him. 

He wasted no time and rubbed her clit, making sure her entrance was slick enough, and she was, so incredibly wet for him. He lined his dick to the entrance of her pussy and thrusted lightly. Just the tip he moaned. Just the tip and she was already on the verge of tears. 

“Just breathe, love. Just breathe for me, eh?” he cooed in her ear as his hips thrusted in small motions to enter her tight cave, rubbing her clit as he did. And then with a final thrust he entered her pussy. 

God! She felt so good. Her tight walls caved around his cock, stimulating him in ways he didn’t think possible. His motions became faster as her cries became louder. 

“Tommy!” she moaned over and over again, seemingly unable to formulate any coherent sentences, her brain clogged with the intense pleasure of his cock ramming into her.  

“You fit me so well, Y/N. I’m never letting go of you or your tight fucking pussy after this.” he moaned in her ear. 

The constant slapping of skin and unbridled moans didn’t leave much to the imagination of the maids and butlers that might’ve overheard, but they didn’t care. All they knew was that they were nearing their release and it just felt so fucking good. 

“Tommy, I’m close.” she managed to stumble out the words. 

“Wait for me, love. You’re gonna cum when I tell you to.” he groaned as he fastened his pace, evidently nearing his release. 

And with a final thrust, he whispered in her ear and they let go. They were quite the pair to look at. Him, with his trousers on the floor, his hands gripping onto her waists and his eyes never leaving hers and she, with her damn naked body, her tear streaked cheeks and her smudged lipstick. 

Tommy gave her a sweet kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her naked body as they remained in the warm embrace. Their heartbeats were gradually returning to usual, and their panted breathing became steadier. 

He retrieved a handkerchief from his pockets and delicately cleaned her sore entrance. The evidence of their lovemaking spilled lewdly on the floor; it was to be someone else’s problem, not theirs. He slipped the stained handkerchief into his pockets and helped her dress. She seemed incredibly satiated as she stared at him with sheer fondness in her eyes. 

Tommy knew that he couldn’t let go of her now. Not after this.  

She was his, even if she didn’t know it yet. 

“We best get going now, love.” he told her as he waited for her to gather herself together.  

“Wait, silly, you’ve got lipstick on your nose.” she giggled as she rubbed the scarlet red lipstick off for him, standing on the tip of her toes. 

She moved to open the door, but her steps felt awkward. He chuckled at her attempt to walk and offered his hand so she may lean on him. The walk back to the table was interesting, with her uncharacteristic gait and lipstick that seemed to have been smudged clean, and his hair that had been slightly disheveled and lips that held the faintest smile. 

Both looked nothing like they had a few moments prior. If the maids noticed the obvious change, they didn’t comment on it as they dutifully carried out their tasks, making the most possible effort to not offend the pair as they walked through the halls.  

May arrived a few minutes later rambling about how much she would’ve loved to cut the call halfway, had Sir Ascot not been an influential member of the Board. She had been so engrossed in her rant that perhaps, she didn’t notice the obvious change in the mood. 

She also didn’t notice the fact that Thomas Shelby’s eyes never once left her sister-in-law who insouciantly continued drinking her tea that was far too cold by now. 

“Well, May, my stay here has been lovely, but I best get going now.” he uttered at last, the business back at home didn’t wait for no one, especially not for him to fuck posh girls. 

“Indeed, I assume you must have your work cut out for you and oh! I forgot to tell you this morning that I’ve had your car stocked up with engine oil, so, it’ll be a smooth ride home.”  

“Thank you for that, May.” he put on his coat and thanked her for her gracious hosting. 

“Tommy.” she called out as he stepped into his vehicle. “Will I see you again?”  

“I’m sure we’ll cross paths again, Miss Carleton.”  

Miss not Mrs. because his eyes, as he spoke those words weren’t on the woman in front of him, but rather they were on the girl that stood at the doorway, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. 

Ah! That smile. 

The drive home was brisk, his mind occupied with the image of her and that darn smile. He may have been back in Birmingham, but he knew that apart of his mind had been left behind with a particularly charming girl in the Carleton Estate. 

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part VIII

We’ll Meet Again

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: Oh my goodness, it’s been well over a month since I last updated this story and I sincerely apologize for that! I hope you all enjoy Bobby and Peach’s next set of letters!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter comes from the song of the same name by Vera Lynn, a song which also happens to factor into this part of the story!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, @luminousnotmatter​. Clara, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story!

Warnings: Alternating POV, brief allusions to war, and references to rationing. This chapter is mostly fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

March 6, 1943

Sweet Peach,

Looks like I have my own elephant in the room to address this time. You asked for a photograph, and I’ve inundated you with five. Trust me, you think Dottie is bad, but I would dare to wager that she’s not nearly as insufferable as the lugheads I’m bunking with over here. When they caught wind of the fact that I was planning to send you a photo—which, for the record, was not at all forward of you to ask for and which actually gave my ego quite a nice boost—you should have seen the holy hullabaloo they raised. You really would have thought I was planning to feature myself on the front cover of Life Magazine with the way they carried on.

My original intent was to send you my graduation photo from Annapolis. My mother ended up packing a copy of it with my things when I left home—I think she was hoping I’d find a nice girl to give it to. She’ll be thrilled indeed to find that I have. Speaking of which, I hope you don’t mind that I’ve mentioned you in my letters to my family. I feel like you’ve become such a special part of my life, if you don’t mind me saying so, and I wanted them to get to know you a little bit, the way I have.

But anyway, like I was saying, I was glad that my mama tucked that photo away with my things so that I could have something to send you, though it’s by no means as spectacular as the photograph you sent me. When Tommy Boy and Benny found out that was the picture I was planning to send you, however, they started talking a whole bunch of nonsense about how I needed to send more pictures that showed off “the real me.” According to Benny, I look way too stiff and formal in my graduation photo. I told him that I thought the ladies were supposed to love a man in uniform, but he told me that’s apparently not the case when said uniform looks like it’s choking the life out of you. Tommy Boy said I should send you pictures that remind you of the fact that I actually do know how to have a good time—his words, not mine.

Even Paul agreed with them. That traitor.

To make a long story short, Peach, that’s why you’re (hopefully) holding those five photographs in your hand right now. In addition to my Annapolis photo—which my mother still happens to think is nice, even if the fellas don’t—are a few photos of us on board our carrier. I’m glad that you remember what I look like so that you don’t confuse me for my much better looking buddies—I hope seeing us side by side doesn’t do me too much of a disservice. I labeled them on the back for you, but there’s a few shots of me and Paul, then me, Benny, and Tommy Boy, then all four of us, then me standing beside me and Paul’s plane.

You know, now that I really think about it, I have a feeling that Benny and Tommy Boy’s grand scheme all along was to make sure that you had photographic evidence of them to show to all your friends and fellow USO volunteers. I tried to explain to them that you had very kindly informed me that most of the girls you know are spoken for, but they both still seem to have it in their heads that you can find a couple nice girls for them. Like I told you, they’re completely insufferable. Good thing they’re also pretty great guys, otherwise I don’t think I’d be able to stand it.

Anyway, all that to say that now you have some photographs, Peach. More than you asked for, I know, and I hope they don’t disappoint. Perhaps it was you who’s been remembering things with rose-colored glasses all this time and not me? Either way, I’ll stop rambling about it now.

Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny send all their best. Paul especially appreciates all your kind words, and your thoughts for him and his family. He says he knew you were a great girl, right from the start when you nearly spilled that punch all over him.

Speaking of punch and the dance, congratulations to your friend, Emily! A little bit of good news in the midst of all this madness is always greatly appreciated. And I’m sure that when the time comes, you’re going to be the prettiest bridesmaid there ever was.

Can I be honest with you though, Peach? I’m sure Emily is a lovely girl, especially if she’s lucky enough to count you as a friend, but at the moment, I have to confess that I don’t hold her fiancé in quite as high esteem. Now to be fair, I don’t know much about this Eddie guy, but from what I do know, he has to be one of the most foolish men I’ve ever seen. Before I explain, I should mention that I saw Eddie at the dance that night, right before he pulled Emily out onto the dance floor. You might wonder how, and I’d tell you it was because I was standing a few feet away from the punch table like a total coward, trying to work up the nerve to go talk to you. So the truth, Peach, is that I saw what happened between you and Eddie—how he approached you and asked you if it would be alright if he asked Emily to dance.

On the one hand, I was selfishly relieved that he didn’t ask you. That meant that all hope wasn’t lost, and I might still get a shot to talk to you. But on the other hand, I couldn’t understand how one man could be so stupid, if you’ll pardon my saying so. Like I said, I’m sure Emily is a lovely girl, but I don’t understand how anyone could see you, Peach—especially that night, when you looked so beautiful in your pretty party dress—and think to dance with anyone else. I suppose you’re right though. It is funny how things work out. And as big a fool as I thought Eddie to be at the time, if I saw him right now, I might just shake his hand and thank him. Because if he hadn’t been a fool, I might not be talking to you right now. And let me tell you, Peach, that is as depressing a thought as any I can think of. So three cheers for Eddie and Emily! I wish them nothing but a lifetime of happiness, and I’ll join them in praying for an end to this war so that they can have their big wedding.

It sure is wild to think that in your last letter, you were telling me about your holidays, and now it’s already March. Time feels like it’s flying much too fast, but not quick enough at the same time. Do you know what I mean?

Paul still can’t believe how big Clara and Paul, Jr. are getting every time Natasha sends him updates. In her last few letters, she wrote that Paul, Jr. has finally started talking—she was very smug that his first word was “Mama,” but only because Clara’s first word was “Dada.” And now that he’s started, he just can’t stop. He’s starting to call everyone by their names—or at least his version of their names—and he even says “Dada” now when Natasha points to pictures of Paul. In her most recent letter, Natasha said he was even starting to walk and that she’s been having to chase him all over the house. “He’s going to be a runner, like his daddy,” she wrote. Did I ever tell you, Peach, that Paul and I ran track and field in high school? He could always run circles around me. Paul’s quite the proud papa, and he’s been bragging about his family to anyone on the carrier who will listen—it usually ends up being me, Tommy Boy, and Benny.

I’m sure little Frankie—or maybe not so little anymore—is starting to walk and talk now, too. Has he been giving you, Dottie, and Paddy a run for your money?

Peach, you once called me an honest man and so I don’t want to lie to you now—as much as I’d like to say that I’m sorry to hear you haven’t been attending any more dances, I’m just not as good a man as all that. The truth of the matter is that I’m quite chuffed (can you tell I’ve been spending time with a lot of Brits?) to hear that you’re saving a dance for me. It makes me want to finish this war and get home all the faster, knowing you’ll be there to welcome me back.

You know, we’ve actually gotten to enjoy a few USO performances over here recently. It does a lot to lift our spirits, and it always makes me think of you. One of the singers performed that Vera Lynn song, “We’ll Meet Again” the other night and I couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would be to be dancing with you again. I thought I might share some of the lyrics with you, the ones that really made me think of you:

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through

Just like you always do

'Til the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away

I believe deep down in my heart that we’re going to meet again, Peach. Just like the song says, I might not know where and I might not know when, but I know it’s going to happen. And what a happy day that will be, when I get to see your smiling face again.

I haven’t even sent this letter yet, and I already can’t wait to receive your next one. I hope whatever you’re doing right now, Peach, it’s bringing a smile to your face and that you’re doing real well.

Until next time and until we meet again.

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

P.S. I’m very embarrassed to admit that for a farm boy from Iowa, I’ve got quite the brown thumb. My only advice to you and Dottie when it comes to your Victory Garden is don’t do anything I would do!

April 2, 1943

Dear Bobby,

What an absolute treat to receive not one, but five wonderful photographs with your last letter! You can tell Tommy Boy and Benny that they were dead wrong—I would have been MORE than happy with just your photo from Annapolis! I think you look remarkably handsome in it, and I’m very thankful to your mother for thinking to send it along with you. The other photos you included are just the icing on the cake.

I love getting a tiny glimpse of what life is like for you over there, and it’s so good to see all of you smiling, despite the circumstances. Tommy Boy, Benny, and Paul all look very handsome as well, but between the two of us, I don’t think any of them could hold a candle to you. Still, it does make me wonder if being handsome is a requirement for joining the Navy nowadays? If so, I’d say you all certainly fit the bill.

Dottie was quite eager to see your picture, and I’ll have you know that she declared you even more handsome than she had been imagining—and my big sister has quite a vivid imagination, let me tell you. Paddy teased her about it endlessly, saying that maybe she should find herself her own pen pal considering how much she seems to enjoy sticking her nose into my correspondences. Just to get back at him, Dottie traded our extra coffee rations with one of our neighbors for more sugar rations. Paddy grumbled about it the next few mornings, but Dottie made it up to him with a chocolate cake after dinner.

I’ve been keeping all your photographs on the desk in my room, Bobby, and I’m looking at them right now as I pen this letter. I promise you that I certainly wasn’t remembering you through rose-colored glasses and that, in fact, you’re even more handsome than my faulty memory could recall. I especially love the pictures of you with your friends—your smiles are all so bright that I can actually feel the joy of your friendship just by looking at them. You have such a lovely smile, Bobby, made all the lovelier by the fact that you have such a wonderful heart underneath.

While we’re on the topic of photographs, it seems that you and I are starting to play tag with them. Since you sent such sweet photographs of you and the boys, I thought I might send a photograph I really loved that we took while we were home in Georgia for Christmas. That’s me, Dottie, Frankie, and Paddy on Christmas morning, right before everyone started opening their presents. Since I talk about them all so much in my letters, I thought it might be nice for you to put some faces with their names. Besides Paddy, of course, since you already know his face.

By the way, I’m truly touched to know that you’ve mentioned me in your letters to your family. Of course I don’t mind it! My family knows all about you, so it seems only right that you should be able to tell your family about me. Maybe one day we’ll all get to be together to share some peach cobbler and pumpkin pie!

Tell Paul, Benny, and Tommy Boy that I say hello and that they looked great in those photos! Tell Tommy Boy and Benny in particular to keep their chins up, and that they’ll find two lucky girls to call their own very soon! And you can tell Paul that I’m still mortified about that punch spill.

Oh, Bobby, I’m so embarrassed to think you overheard my conversation with Eddie that night! Truth be told, in that moment, I felt so silly. I thought for sure he was going to ask me to dance, so I felt a bit ridiculous when it turned out he just wanted to know if it was okay to ask Emily. In all honesty, I really wanted to leave after that. But then you showed up and everything changed. My whole night turned around. Dottie always says that everything happens for a reason, and I really do believe that. I think Eddie and Emily were meant to meet each other that night, just like you and I were meant to meet each other, Bobby. Knowing you has brought so much goodness to my life, and I can’t imagine what it would be like if our paths hadn’t crossed that night. So now I can say thank goodness for Eddie wanting to dance with Emily!

I know exactly what you mean about time, Bobby. Dottie and I were just talking about how we want time to slow down because it feels like Frankie is growing up way too fast! Just like Paul, Jr., Frankie is walking now and we have to be vigilant at all times to make sure he isn’t getting into any mischief. Just the other day, he somehow managed to get his hands on Paddy’s keys and hide them under the couch. We spent hours looking for them! He also said his first word a couple months ago—Dada. Thankfully, Paddy was home to hear it, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so proud. Dottie pretended to be miffed—”Fifteen hours I spend in labor with that boy and he says ‘Dada’ first!”—but she really was excited, too. Now he also says Mama, hi, bye-bye, and milk. Sometimes he’ll say doggy, too, when we see dogs out on the street. The funniest thing is that he seems to have given me the nickname “Cookie.” Whenever Dottie asks him who I am, he laughs and says, “Cookie!” So to you, I’m Peach and to my nephew, I’m Cookie. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve all these food nicknames!

I’m so thrilled to hear that the USO has finally made its way over to you boys! I can’t imagine what you’re all going through over there, but I know that you do deserve an opportunity to relax and unwind.

That Vera Lynn song is so beautiful, and my heart is so full to hear that it made you think of me, Bobby. After I read your letter, I remembered that we actually have a record of that song in the house, so I immediately went and put it on. I admit, I played it a few times and imagined that you were here dancing with me. We will meet again, Bobby, I just know it. I feel it in my heart, too, the same as you. And the sun will be shining bright when we do, just like the song says.

I hope the sun is shining on you right now, Bobby, and that wherever you are, you’re safe and you know that I’m thinking of you and wishing you the speediest return home.

Until we meet again, know that I’m sending you all my very best.

Most Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. Dottie and I have been cursed with brown thumbs ourselves, but we’re determined to make this Victory Garden work! I’ll keep you updated on our efforts!

P.P.S. I know it will probably be a while until we hear from each other again, so I want to wish you a very Happy Easter. Stay safe, Bobby!

[alldancersaretalented]

Tigr Icons

Sophia Schiano (DancePlex -> ??)

Balbina Cueva (Ale Mancilla Dance Studio)

Madden Zook (Artflux)

Quincy Hadlock (Artistic Dance Project)

Andrez Jimenez (Artistic Edge Dance)

Alexis Austin (Brava Dance Center)

Caroline Medley (BPMDC)

Brooklyn Medley (BPMDC)

Savy Luechtefeld (Caroline Collective)

Cydney Abbott (CDC)

Grayson Niemcyzk (CDC)

Zac Gibson (Can Dance)

Caleb Livingston (Center Stage Dance Studio)

Amaya Weeks (Club)

Elsie Sandall (Club)

Ashton Wullbrandt (Club)

Lauryn Aniyah (Collective Phoenix)

Karson Koller (Collective Phoenix)

Morgan Wendt (Complexity Dance)

Kate Baker (CSPAS)

Violet Schwarz (CSPAS)

Brooklyn Ward (CSPAS)

Kylie Lawrence (CSPAS)

Stella Hafen (CSPAS)

Richie Ford (Coastal Dance Works)

Jakey McCullough (DH Dance Company)

Alana Gordon (Dance Connection)

Paige Kim (Dance Enthusiasm)

Aracely Lee (Dance Deluxe)

Gage Davis (Dance Deluxe)

Antonia Zanin (Dance Edge)

Haven Greene (DC Dance Factory)

Hannah Fogel (Dance Institute)

Zachary Roy (Dance Town)

Rylie Bordon (Dance Unlimited)

Addilynn Sullivan (Dance Unlimited Boise)

Cameron Janson (DDPC)

Kennedie Caldwell (Denise Wall)

Talia Mempin (Elements Elite)

Jack Schofield (Elite Academy for Dance)

Mya Lanigan (Evolve Dance Complex)

Gavin Morales (Evolve Dance Company)

Coltrane Vodicka (Evoke Dance Movement)

Addi Perrotto (Expressenz)

Brynn Jones (Expressenz)

Kate Jarboe (Expressenz)

Bella Aren (Focal Point)

Regina Espejo (Gaby Pinzon Dance)

Madelyn Duncan (GCDA Dance)

Sophie Flowers (HDC Studio)

Emory Pettit (Impact Elite)

Levi Caicco (In Motion Dance)

Blais Lingle (JD Charleston)

Phoebe McNamara (Just Elite Dance)

Taya Osso (Katies Dance Connection)

Finley Aldridge (Kim Massey)

Pierson Aldridge (Kim Massey)

Bella Charnstrom (Larkin)

Cameron Kennedy (LD Dancer)

Cha Cha Shen (Mather)

Helena Olaerts (Mather)

Cova Card (MVMT)

Canaan Blasit (MVMT)

Erika Del Mazo (New Era ADF)

Emma Bassel (New Level)

Desa Jankes (New Level)

Katie Dong (Nor Cal)

Mika Takase (Nor Cal)

Channing Embry (NSDPAC)

Matthew Conway (NSDPAC)

AvaLeigh Mackaron (NSDPAC)

Madeleine Shen (Northpointe)

Sophia SantaMaria (OCPAA)

Khloe Kwon (Pave)

Addyson Paul (Pave)

Camila Cuevas (PEDC)

Izzy Pascuale (Performance Edge 2)

Lincoln Russo (Poiroir Productions)

Stella Eberts (Project 21)

Richie Granese (Project 21)

Olivia Toneguzzo (Pulse Dance Centre)

Kaylin Gabosh (Revolution Dance)

Elena Markonidis (Rhythm Dance Co)

Ansley Matchack (Sceniccity Dance)

Dylan Custodio (Stars)

Hugo Silva (Stars)

Anita Rodriguez (Stars)

Camila Giraldo (Stars)

Skyla Lucena (Stars)

Santiago Sosa (Stars)

Alonzo Dock (Stars Elite Training)

Vera Souvannavong (Studio4Talent)

Samantha Sweetman (Studio4Talent)

Kloie Goodman (Synergy Academy)

Josh Lundy (Studio 413)

Peyton Nowacki (Studio 702)

Norah Johnson (Studio7TalentCenter)

Annabella Grace (Studio L Hoboken)

Avery Nicole (TDA Prep)

Katherine Khait (Techniques Dance)

Lakota Loya (The Right Combination Dance)

Rissa Laugana (The Rock)

Addison Price (The Rock)

Tiara Sherman (The Rock)

Caitlyn Paik (TTP Dance Pilates)

Kelsey Suka (Utah Dance Institute)

Kennedy Anderson (Vision Dance Alliance)

Rudie Bolton(Weissman)

Reagan Hess (WFDC)

Kaylin Marie (Your Haven)

Blake Metcalf (Xtreme)

[wutbju]

Pamela Sue (Weber) Kliewer 70, was received safely into the arms of her Savior, Jesus Christ at 11:48pm Monday, January 22 at Newton Medical Center in Newton, KS. She was born April 8, 1953, to William (Bill) and Vera Weber in Ottawa, KS. She went to school in Ottawa, graduating from Ottawa High School in 1971. She then attended Bob Jones University in Greenville, SC where she earned a B.A. degree in Piano Performance. Pam remained on campus after graduation where she was employed at Unusual Films as a secretary. It was during that time that she met her husband to be, Scott Kliewer. They were married August 5, 1978 at Calvary Baptist Church in Ottawa.

Pam faithfully served by her husband's side as a pastor's wife in Charleston, IL for two years and then in Newton, KS for the next forty years up until the time of her death. Her faithfulness in ministry was the result of her faith in Jesus Christ unto Salvation as a young girl and her dedication to God's Word and God's calling upon her life.

Pam is preceded in death by her parents, Bill and Vera Weber. She is survived by her husband of 45 years, Scott, three sons, Jeff (Heather) of Midland, TX; Brad (Heidi) of Barnhart, MO; Ryan Kliewer of Saipan; One sister, Jackie (Harold) Callan of New Palestine, IN; one brother, Scott (Liz) Weber of Monroe, GA; nine grandchildren; and nieces, nephews, and cousins, all of whom she loved.

Funeral service will be 10:00 a.m., Saturday, January 27, 2024, at Meridian Baptist Church in Newton with Pastors Jerroll Martens and Caleb Wood presiding. Visitation will be 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. Friday evening at Meridian Baptist Church. Burial will be in the Restlawn Gardens of Memory in Newton. Memorial gifts are suggested to either Meridian Baptist Church in Newton, KS or Christian Way Missions (Saipan).

[irisheyesdesigns]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vera Bradley “loves me” Charleston tote crossbody bag LIKE NEW.

[frontporchconsign]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vtg Vera Bradley Laurel Sling Bag Womens Black Red Beige Quilted Cotton Backpack.

[sporadiceagleheart]

Jesus here's my May birthdays edit for those who passed away and Madeleine McCann who went missing in 2007 at 3 years old Vera S. Barton, Amerie Jo Garza, Maranda Gail Mathis, Merka Ulmann Barkan, Abram Aba Barkan, Helen B. Antin, Szyfra “Stefi” Fiszbaum Altman, Hershel “Harry” Altman, Francie Waligora Alpert, Anne V. Berend Allen, Reghina Gottesman Adler, Ludwig “Lou” Adler, My grandma Margaret Downs, Erna “Edna” Grunebaum Adler, Judith Kallus Abrahamer, Otto Heinrich Frank, Hana Brady, Bob Saget, Gianna Maria-Onore Bryant, Bojana Asović, John F. Kennedy, Kyle Albert Velasquez, Joanna Caroline “JoJo” Ross, Kayla Renee Rolland, Diana Duff-Smith Wanstrath, Cuong Huy “Tony” Trinh, Ashley Tomchesson Ochoa, SFC Charleston V. “Chucky” Hartfield, Jared Alan Lee Conard Black, Bennie Jewkes Bushnell, Gene Olan “Bubba” Allen II, Brendan Neal Abernathy, Natalie Danielle Brooks, Stephanie Dawn Johnson, Jessica Adrienne “Jess” Rekos, Jack Armistead Pinto, Emilie Alice “Em” Parker, Abigail Joanne “Abbie” McLennan, Randy Michael Gordon, Robert Nicholas “Nick” Creson, Ryan Christopher “Stack” Clark, Pauline “Paultje” Adelaar, Manfred “The Red Baron” von Richthofen, Catherine II the Great, SGT Frederick William Mausert III, Ichiyo Higuchi, Tammy Wynette, Johnny Paycheck, Hank Snow, War Admiral, Hedda Hooper, Eddy Arnold, Ariya Jennings, Indy Llew, Kylie Rowand, Alyssa Miriam Alhadeff, Shana Lorraine Fisher, Caitlin Millar Hammaren, Reginald Hezeriah Harding, John Thomas Henry, Roy Huskey, Trinity Hope Jackson, Jessica Klymchuk, Dean Harold Meyers, Stephanie Michelle Neiman, Daniel Patrick O'Neil, Rachael Angelica Raver, Willie Banks, Lisa Romero-Muniz, Rose Martin Rutledge, Laura Anne Shipp, Scott Keith Sorrell, Cynthia Olinde Tisdale, Maybelle Addington Carter, Johnny Gimble, Gene Tunney, Gary Stewart, James Arness, James Brown, Pinky Lee, Peggy Mount, Gates Brown, Saint Catherine Labouré, Van Alexander, Dee Hardison, Paton Price, Connie Crothers, Jane Connelly, Orange Jacobs, Stan C. Wilson, Harold Allen Drake, Goldy McJohn, Rev. William J. Seymour, Jean-Baptiste Barrier, Lynn Hargate Evans, Bennie Jewkes Bushnell, Florence Kopleff, Roger Robinson, Gerald Irons, & More Angel

[patriziaferrithings]

Da I ragazzi di Charleston

Charleston, USA – April 3, 2006: Meeting House Inn at the Battery, in historic Charleston, SC “Non c’è nulla che accada per caso. Io lo appresi nel modo difficile, molto prima di sapere che il modo difficile era la sola strada che portasse a una vera, sicura conoscenza. Nella fase iniziale della mia vita, arrivai a temere il potere di strani transiti. Sebbene pensassi di aver sempre scelto la…

[niiikooooo]

Some comic practice from a few months ago, dialogue infamously from The Simpsons

[drillbitstudios]

In the end, they truly were D. Inc's.

[sarahsjohnb]

[niiikooooo]

!!!!

what a good thing to wake up to on the new year

HOLY FUCK

@niiikooooo

[jacks-wack-attack]

I got my very first plant today. I’ve never had one before. He’s a little aloe plant, his name is Charleston, and I love him with all my heart.

[vintagelasvegas]

Purple Sage Motel, 1920 Fremont St - c. 1948

Hialeah, Purple Sage, and Bonanza Lodge - 2012

John Lawrence Love, owner of Las Vegas Motel, purchased the 1920 Fremont property and planned the motel before his death in an auto accident. His widow Vera Love built and opened Purple Sage circa 1948. Mr. Love’s other property on E Charleston Blvd and Lewis St east of Bruce St became the Lawrence Love Tract. Mrs. Love went on to operated her business Vera Love Realty from the 50s-80s.

Their original neon sign of Purple Sage seen in the older photo, was replaced later in the 50s with the larger sign seen in the 2012 photo. In 2014, owner Kamran Foulad merged Purple Sage and neighboring Bonanza Lodge Motel into Sterling Gardens Motel.

Photos: Scan from an c. 1948-‘50 Kodachrome slide; 2012 by Vegas Vernacular Project. Sources: New Auto Court. Review-Journal, 5/7/45; John L. Love Killed Saturday In Accident. Review-Journal, 12/23/46; M. Henle. Vera Love has heart. Review-Journal, 9/1/85

[soixanteqvinze]

closed to : @taliakemarres​​ location : aurélie’s and nalini’s apartment time : september 12, 1924

“there you are!” aurélie beams, falling onto the chaise next to talia, spirits buoyed by gin and jazz. “taking a break from all that dancing? i suppose even you need them once in a while,” she teases. not that either of them are particularly known for slowing down, and if there’s anything talia needs a break from, it’s work. “you know, i think there’s more than one fellow taken with you after that charleston.” she leans towards her friend, voice dropping as she flicks a hand towards a lanky young man who tries to be more than he is. 

“apparently, he knows vera vincelli personally. and that just before coming here, he came face to face with her just after she’d shot five men. thought he was going to be next, he said.” grabbing a bottle of champagne from the side table, she pours them each a glass. “he’s a tough one,” she adds, biting back a laugh, “don’t you think?”

[irisheyesdesigns]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vera Bradley “loves me” Charleston tote crossbody bag LIKE NEW.