#WWII headcanon

[thanosgf]

ronald speirs • black and white

[bettsfic]

okay so i saw The Bikeriders today and i knew i wouldn't be normal about this movie and even though my expectations were impossibly high it exceeded them. i was happy for it to just be a cool movie for the sake of being a cool movie, toxic masculinity ultraviolence whatever, and it was but with Jodie Comer's character narrating about what fucking idiots all these macho biker dudes are. it's like if a woman narrated Fight Club while constantly pointing out how stupid Fight Club is

also, most of it was filmed near where i live and it was so exciting seeing places i recognized! it's been all over the news for weeks

things i loved about it:

protective older woman/loose cannon younger man

lowkey romantic stalking

a relationship suspiciously close to a throuple, by which i mean protective older woman goes to war against possessive older man, re: their mutual intense love for loose cannon younger man. and that's not even subtext that's just text

hot sadboy who doesn’t talk much and is so cool he doesn’t know how cool he is

british people doing midwestern accents

NO PLOT, god bless. just stuff happening and a lot of gay tension building

accurate portrayals of the aftermath of the vietnam war

accurate portrayals of mid-century small-town life

accurate portrayals of men being fucking pathetic

things i did not love about it:

for the love of god please wear a helmet

idk man it's just a whole-ass movie about how vietnam changed the very definition of masculinity, and that awkward era between wwii and vietnam when guys were rebellious for the aesthetic, rebel without a cause shit, twinks in leather jackets manhood. the movie even points that out, like they're so against rules but then they make all these rules for their silly little biker gang because they're bored. and then allll these vets come home from a war nobody wanted and they're actually rebelling, full anti-establishment, and there's just no more honor anymore because everybody's broken. which is all to say, somebody please come into my ask and be insane about this movie with me.

anyway i'm seeing it again tomorrow and i have already started an ot3 fic goodbye

[hoodedboy79]

Robert Zussman hc's

-(Male Reader)-

I've been playing Cod WW2 a lot recently and when I tell you I would bark for this man, I mean it wholeheartedly 😀

==================

• Bro is SWEATING when his feelings towards you shift from platonic to potentially something more.

• He definitely isn't letting this come between you two or make him treat you any different than he usually does though.

• He's your best friend before anything else and he already would die for you, so why should this change anything?

• Homiesexual fr

• God forbid you speak German, he is rabid. But would urge you to keep it between the two of you, you've seen how the rest (Pierson) treats him for speaking it and he doesn't want them to be hostile towards you as well.

• Honestly see Zussman having crazy religious guilt. Ignoring the time period and the obvious homophobia that comes with it that would make anyone apprehensive, I feel like Zussman would've been raised to look for a nice Jewish woman to marry (and preferably quick by his mother) so falling for a man conflicts him for a long time. 

• Talking about the time period, Zussman struggles with his feelings for so long, unsure how to deal with the attraction. It wasn't like he could confide in anyone about it or let his crush be known in any way, there isn't even any women around that he could force himself to concentrate on in hopes of his feelings shifting over to them, instead he's forced to bury them as far down as he can and deal with the constant paranoia of someone figuring it out and reporting him.

• Really wants you and Daniels to get along, like REALLY wants you to.

• On the other hand, Zussman tries to hide it, but he can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when you talk to someone else, especially that charming SOE, Arthur. He wonders if you know, or even suspect how he feels when he gets like this, which reins him in a bit.

• Is a mix between glad and embarrassed if you come to his defense against Aiello.

• On one hand he's glad that you care enough to try and stand up for him but embarrassed on the other because he was taught to defend himself, also doesn't want to get you in trouble with Pierson or Turner.

• Tries to stay near you as often as he possibly can, both during combat and out.

• The moment you're in immediate danger, Zussman’s heart races. Whether it’s an intense firefight or a close call, he finds himself charging into the fray to try and make sure you get out of there safe. He doesn’t always know why, but he just can't stand the thought of losing you. Even if he knows he can't always protect you.

• Makes sure you always have a med kit on you.

• Literally has more med kits on him than anything else for you and Daniels.

• You two are making him go grey.

• He will keep telling you the story of the captain of the football team wanting his watch, Daniels is forever thankful that he's not the only one who now has to sit through the story for the 80th time.

• If you're a smoker, Zussman will give you any spare cigarettes he can find or will offer to share the one he's smoking if supply runs low.

• Back to his not so platonic feelings, Zussman wouldn't tell you anything about them, this is something he's prepared to take to his grave. He would feel guilty for even touching you at times, even if nothing untoward was meant by it.

• But he will constantly 'joke' with you like: 'Think you'd ever fall for this handsome American G.I.? Kidding 👀'

• Please 'joke' back.

• Worries nonstop about whether or not you and Daniels are still alive when he gets captured.

• During his time as a prisoner of war, Zussman tries to hold on to any shred of hope like many others. He imagines you and Daniels leading the rest of the platoon on a rescue mission or finding a way to free him. His thoughts are consumed by memories of shared moments—those quiet conversations by the campfire, shared laughter, and the little gestures from you that meant so much to him. He clings to those memories, even when hope starts to dim, and wonders if, somehow, you know just how much you mean to him.

• When Zussman is finally freed, it’s a blur of chaos and adrenaline. At first, he doesn’t know if it’s real. He’s still dazed, his body bruised and exhausted, his mind can't tell if the gunshot and the blur of that bastard Metz collapsing was his imagination or not. But when you and Daniels rush to his side, followed by the rest, he hopes, the most he has, that it's real and not just some really fucked up dream he's having.

• In the hospital, Zussman struggles in more ways than one, not only with his physical recovery and the constant nightmares/mental toll but also with his emotions towards you. Seeing you sitting by his bed—your eyes tired but focused on him—makes him feel both comforted and conflicted. He’s grateful to be alive and that you survived too, but there's a feeling of discomfort in letting you see him like this, so different to who he started out as.

• You catch him staring at you more than once while he's recovering, his expression soft but distant, as if he’s debating whether to say something or keep it to himself.

• Still, he leans on you more than he’ll ever admit during his recovery. Whether it’s helping him sit up, distracting him from the nightmares, or just sitting in comfortable silence, your presence makes all the difference, regardless if it feels weird at times.

• If you bring him anything while he’s in the hospital—whether it’s a book, a cigarette, or even just a cup of coffee—Zussman treasures it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, mostly because he realises how hard it must've been the sneak it past the skeptical eyes of the nurses.

"You spoil me," he jokes, though his grin is warm and genuine.

• When Zussman tells you to visit him in Chicago, he means it with every fiber of his being. There’s a subtle, hopeful edge in his voice, like he’s offering more than just an invitation—it’s a lifeline, a promise that even after the war, he doesn’t want to lose you. He imagines the two of you in a quieter world, sharing stories over a drink at his favorite diner or walking through the bustling streets, finally able to just be without the weight of battle hanging over you. The thought alone keeps him going as he dreams of a future where you’re still in it.

=========

I gave up at certain parts of this but it's been in my drafts for months and I've finally finished it so 🥴

Hope this was decent!

[hypothermiatapes]

I’ve been doing some research into WWII for a while now, and considering Tom Riddle grew up during that time I thought I’d detail what his life during the summers was probably like at the orphanage.

(Note that it’s hard to find information, so some of this is more guessing and not fully backed.)

There were two blitzes, the first one being from September 7, 1940 to May 11, 1941 while the baby blitz was from January 21 to May 29 in 1944 (he would be an adult by that summer so I guess it’s not relevant). This means that Tom wasn’t in London during the blitz, but he was there for the aftermath.

This means that when Tom returned from Hogwarts in 1941 it was likely he had to aid in the clearing of rubble. At this time he was fourteen which means that he was most likely working a full time job which wasn’t uncommon at the time for 14-17 y/o’s. This means that Tom either spent most of his summer either clearing rubble or was working in major industries at the time (engineering, aircraft production, shipbuilding, etc…).

I think this is very likely considering he was living in an orphanage and at this time many orphanages in London were operating in over capacity. It is extremely likely the older kids were forced to work to make some income no matter how little and support themselves. The youngest were probably sent to the countryside before the blitz to be kept safe, but I highly doubt the orphanage would have the resources to completely relocate and they were still needed in London.

This means Tom was working full time every summer from the age of 14 to 16/17 (completely dependent on when he left). When he was sixteen Tom could have participated in the Civil Defence and from what I’ve read some form of national service was required at this age. This means Tom could have very well been participating in Civil Defence or something similar.

Nightly during 1941 and 1942 the air raid sirens would go off and people would have to go to the closest tube of air raid shelter so that is likely where most nights were spent. These places were often extremely crowded as well, people basically laying shoulder to shoulder. For someone like Tom I assume this meant getting no sleep whatsoever.

I couldn’t find information on bombs being dropped outside of the blitzes, but I do think it was possible. So, Tom may have lived through a few bombings, but not to the extent of what happened during the blitzes.

Rationing was a large thing at this time and considering Tom was older at this time he would not get as much aid. There is a high probability that he wasn’t eating enough for what he was doing. Including food clothes were rationed significantly and Tom would be at the peak of his growth at this time and considering how tall he is getting fitting clothes would have been extremely difficult. Though minors were given more clothing coupons at this time due to growth.

Rationing also brought the need for people to grow their own food, so Tom and the other children would most likely be responsible for growing and harvesting food.

Now, this goes into theory territory.

I do believe there is a high chance Tom was kicked out of the orphanage for large amounts of time during the summers due to him being old enough to work and little space and resources. This means he was probably homeless a couple times over the summer, and possibly he was for several summers altogether. He also wasn’t liked at Wool’s so this makes it even more likely.

If anyone wants me to go more into detail on any of these points please send me an ask because I would love to.

[mossi-dreams]

i have a running headcanon for far cry 5 that once the resistance gets a little established, they also start putting out propaganda posters, especially ones inspired by old wwii propaganda posters like jacob's (pictured)

like just imagine the resistance with recreation posters of these bad boys, imagine how fucking sick that'd look, especially slapped over eden's gate propaganda posters

[cmspeirs]

Band of Brothers Headcanons: What music they’d be listening to

(+ Playlists and absolutely historically inaccurate)

A/N: Hey! So here’s my first BoB headcanon - I hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry if this is rather short. Let me know if you’d like to see other characters in those or have any requests :) I also spent way too much time making several playlists for them, I’ll link them for you at the end if you wanna listen to them!

{Dick Winters}

• Classical. Music.

• Can list you every thing that Bach or Vivaldi ever published, but with the backstories

• I just picture him closing his eyes and sighing very loudly whenever he listens to something he loves

• Will dance to old Jazz music until the sun comes up, and says the day after that it was a really wild night

• Also listens A LOT to Lana (would never admit it)

• Secretly gossips and argues over her online. Tries to keep it a secret but his username is “DickDelRey101”

{Lewis Nixon}

• Classic Rock all the way

• I’m talking Bob Dylan, Rolling Stones, ACDC…

• “Paranoid - Black Sabbath” was his wedding song

• When he gets home he falls into the old chair next to the record player with a bottle of whiskey already waiting

• He’s always like “I need this music to calm down, don’t you understand???” and absolutely means it

• Drives the car only to listen to “Enter Sandman” and wear sunglasses while he does (windows all the way down, volume max)

• 100% certified Dad music

{Ronald Speirs}

• This mans music is all over the place

• Just like my feelings for him lol

• But mostly listens to a lot of old music???

• Like 40s to 60s, also a big fan of Elvis and Johnny Cash

• Literally has pictures of them hanging in the doorway

• Always says he doesn’t care about things like music, but will make a playlist for every one he meets with songs that remind him of them

• I swear to everything music would be one of his love languages - he’d absolutely remember every song you ever liked

• Turns the radio louder randomly to songs with the explanation “saw you smiling to that with your morning coffee last week”

{Donald Malarkey}

• Listens to a whole lot of sad songs - and I’m talking about gut wrenching, laying on the bathroom floor kind of sad

• Also somehow into Grunge??

• At least three Radiohead songs in every one of his playlists

• The Smiths is his happy music

• When his favorite Pink Floyd Record is on he listens to it all day. He runs to push the play button again every time it stops.

{Joe Toye}

• 100% an alternative Rock / Nu Metal kind of guy

• Would have Deftones playing all day

• Also listens to Bloodhound Gang a lot lol (The song “Jackass” is his anthem!!!)

• Just imagine him sitting in the garage with Guarnere, drinking beer while an old Limp Bizkit vinyl is on

• He thinks it’s the greatest thing of all time that bands began to combine Rap with Hardcore

• In terms of that - definitely a fan of Deez Nuts, Hollywood Undead or Linkin Park

• “Band of Brothers - Deez Nuts” is literally his favorite song

{George Luz}

• Unironically listens to the Soundtrack of Oklahoma

• It just puts a smile on his face every time he hears it - takes him back to the news of the musical still on broadway back in war

• Also loves & defends Tom Lehrer to death

• He knows every song from him by heart and always sings the loudest

• Will randomly sing his favorite songs throughout the day, which makes everyone shake their head but deep down they all love it

• He’s almost afraid of sad music

• He aspires to be Ricky Nelson in another life

{Eugene Roe}

• Similar to Malarkey, but doesn’t cry to those songs

• Just sits in silence with a cigarette between his fingers, staring into the nothingness while thinking about his time with Easy

• “Feels like a movie” - songs were made for him

• When he listens to Elton John or Billy Joel you know he’s in a happy mood

• Is also the anonymous person Winter argues with online about Lana

• DickDelRay101 replied: Are you clinically insane? How could you deny it’s her best album? Did you even listen to it?

• Absolutely knows that it’s Winters and accidentally called him Sir when he replied (several times)

{Joe Liebgott}

• Hear. Me. Out. He’s a pop punk & grunge boy all the way

• Has a big collection of thrifted vinyls (if you can’t find him, search at the next thrift market)

• Puts on Nirvana or the Offspring and just lays on his bed while smoking a whole pack of cigarettes

• Room full of ripped band posters and at least one guitar (but can’t play, although he says he can)

• 10/10 would’ve lived in a skatepark in another life

• Also really into Old school HipHop, loves the Beastie Boys

• Accidentally went to a New Kids on the Block concert once. Said he hated it but stayed until the very last minute.

{David Webster}

• Would also listen to classical music

• But it would just be for people to think he’s very intellectual, actually can’t stand it

• In reality really into slow and soft love songs

• Listens to Vera Lynn on a daily basis and happily admits that he cries to her songs. Always speaks of “Our Vera.”

• When he listens to “There’ll always be an England” he suddenly gets an English accent.

• The Fleetwoods is his favorite band

• Tries to listen to Pop Punk because he knows Joe loves it, but he absolutely hates it

• “There’s no emotion Joe!!”

• “For fucks sake, Web, there’s all the goddamn emotion!!?!!”

{Bull Randleman}

• Hard Rock, can’t say more

• Also 100% certified Dad music. He’s the one who visits Nixon once a week to play poker and smoke cigars while listening to his records

• Is the guy at a concert who will accidentally throw you to the ground while in a mosh pit

• But will absolutely make everyone stop so he can pick you up again

———

Link to the Ronald Speirs playlist:

Link to my profile - the other playlists are on there (still updating them regularly):

[caterpillarinacave]

Will: “Beat three eggs” now what does that mean? Charlotte: I presume in hand to hand combat.

Agatha: Out of my kitchen, both of you.

[zombieelliottsmithh]

Red Daniels and Joseph Turner headcanons !!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

- Turner used to brag about Daniel's whenever he could, and I mean WHENEVER he could. He talked about how loyal he is, caring, his skill for shooting, etc etc.

- The two got along extremely quickly when they first met. This led to their friendship as well as brotherhood.

- Turner really cares about Daniel's. He gets worried when he doesn't see him at times, almost like some sort of parental figure.

- Daniel's brought up music in front of Turner once, and that was just the beginning of a GIANT rant about Turner's love of music. Poor Red said one thing about how he plays guitar, next thing you know, you have Turner ranting about his passion for Piano, Harmonica, and Violin. (As well as some Jazz music, Turner seems like the fellow.)

Angst ; - When Daniel's witnessed Turner's death, it probably felt like watching his brother die again. Daniel's saw Turner as an older brother or father figure, leading to his death being more painful than he imagined it to be. Whenever he talks about him, he speaks as if he really was a second brother.

- The two enjoy some chocolate together from time to time, the sweet treat being a comfort in the gruesome and depressing atmosphere at war.

- Turner tells stories of his wife and little boy at home, leaving Red to relate with Hazel. The two bond more over these stories, speaking about better memories before getting some sleep for the night.

- Turner offers fatherly advice on things to write back to Hazel. He always insists on writing something sweet and heartfelt to end it off, not wanting either of the two to leave the letter off feeling upset. I mean, c'mon, the man's had a wife for quite some time, he should know.

Angst ; - Daniels had discovered a letter Turner never got to send back home, breaking his heart in a way. He didn't get much sleep that night, but kept the letter with him.

- Daniels will often give Turner some scraps of food or little random things he finds as tokens of appreciation for helping and keeping him alive that long.

[verymentalitydeer]

The Affairs Of Sally Bowles pt.1 (the history)

note: this is all head cannon and infers from the very little we know about sally. i tried to make out what her past would be, i’ve been thinking about making this for a WHILE. so i hope you know that this isn’t cannon AT. ALL. but if you have an issue with my own story i ask you to please write your own!!!! i’d adore seeing it

Sally Bowles, from what we know is an english singer at the Kit Kat Club. She was born in Kent, England during the 1910’s. In her life she seemed to have many different faces to put on and people to pretend to be. After finding out one of her more rebellious personalities that she was hiding, her mother sent her to a nunnery in France. Sally lived there for the remainder of her teen years, though she was incredibly bored throughout. She was STRIVING for a way out, and after a few months she found it. A mission trip was held by the nuns, the mission tripe contained a trip to all over europe. Ecstatically, Sally signed up. She was ready to see the world, to have the excitement in her life that she was starving for. But, as Sally would soon find out, the trip was ultimately extremely BORING. One night, when they landed in Antwerp, Belgium. Her, and the group of girls who also went on the trip, settled in a small hotel near a train station. Thoughts stirred in Sally’s mind, about how she needed to leave, how she needed to live her life. That night she picked up her bags and ran off to the station. Sally paid with money that was given to her for the trip to get on a train, any train, that could take her away. That train fatefully lead her to the city of Berlin, Germany.

She was all alone there, but hopeful and giddy. She wandered around the streets for a few days before meeting a prostitute named Elsie. Elsie was 18 with short brown hair and light makeup, her thin figure sauntered down the streets looking for customers at times. Elsie took in Sally in the whore house, not as a worker, but just so she had some shelter. Elsie also worked at a (at the time) small and indie night club called the Kit Kat Club. There, Sally found her love of performing. Which, Elsie encouraged! Elsie was like a best friend to Sally, and maybe a little more by how Sally would flush anytime Elsie would call her her ‘liebling’. Though, a week after sally’s 18th birthday, Elsie passed from a tumor in her brain. Elsie’s funeral was solemn and short, mainly cause no one had enough money to make it a good funeral. Her family came, looking over her tombstone in disgust. Sally was heartbroken, but she swore that Elsie was the happiest she’s been. Sally realized that Elsie lived a life of excitement, a life of whatever she wanted. Where even after she died, she was content. from then on, Sally would live her life in the glitz and glamor.

1/3

[shieldslingera]

Avengers (1963) #277

so this is like… one of the first times, if not the first time the mansion is destroyed in comics. and not like, a wall is knocked down, but having major structural damage with parts of the actual floor missing. and this is all from a fight with some villains baron zemo gathered, all with the purpose of hurting the avengers, but steve most of all because he killed zemo’s father.

and this is just… heart-wrenching. i mean, steve didn’t grow up with a lot. his mom pretty much supported the both of them by herself. and then he joined the army and pretty much didn’t keep a lot then either, because he was constantly on the move, going to the front lines. then he dies, and who knows what happens to his belongings, because there’s no one to ship them to–so more than a few of them, i imagine, end up in a museum, or bought and sold in auctions for collectors. so when steve comes back, he pretty much has only the things he was wearing–his ripped to shreds army fatigues, his cap uniform, and his shield.

so anything of his he had from before… if it was in a museum, he probably could’ve requested it back, and he might’ve pulled a few things, but not everything, especially with the classification of his missions and identity, a lot of the things in the museums were probably general captain america things. the army probably held onto his things bc hoarding is the biggest government guilty pleasure, a portion of them classified, again, for being about steve rogers and cap’s missions, and he probably got all or most of that back upon waking. and then there’s all the things that went to auction, to varying degrees of sentimental, but like. once it’s at auction, there’s not a ton you can do to get it back aside from buying it. which… he has no money. which probably means that like. tony had to buy it back for him.

so all the things he has here–they’re mementos, but they’re important to steve. he’s had to work, in one way or another, to get them back. all his earthly belongings, all the ties he had to his memories, boiled down to the contents of one room. that was it. pictures of his friends, old journals filled with his thoughts, clippings of his and bucky’s adventures–all of it, all the good things he loved about his life, gone. gone.

and it’s irreplaceable, right? he can’t replace a picture of his mother. she’s dead. and sure, he could tape it back together, but now every time he looks at it, he’s going to see zemo ripping it in half all over again. and what about next time? is this–are his belongings–going to keep being used against him every time a fight comes to the mansion? like… it’s no wonder that after this, steve doesn’t really… nest, anywhere else. his bedrooms are all rather plain and functional–i think the most i’ve seen are some pictures of friends, or a few posters, but never to the extent that he had here. i think this makes him so afraid to personalize things again that he just… doesn’t. he can’t handle the loss.

[weezmancer3]

Akaashi's Post-Finals Blues

Akaashi's the type of guy to eat, sleep, and breathe his course materials when it's finals season. After finals are over he has to regain his senses and remember how to be a normal (ish) person.

Bokuto: Wanna grab some study snacks after practice today?

Akaashi: World War Two was bad.

Bokuto:

Bokuto: ...So, does that mean yes or no?

[tiend]

A war is an ecological disaster as much as it is any of the other kinds. When it is over, when they win, when the Republic becomes the Empire and begins to inflict its peace across the galaxy -

There's an army of men, bought and paid for, that it doesn't need. Can't demobilise or repatriate. Battle droids you can wipe and recycle. Men? Not so much. Especially the ones that are injured too badly to make it as stormtroopers and not badly enough to not be a threat if they chose to organise themselves against the Empire.

In the years of their fighting they have left a considerable mess behind them, across Christophis, Felucia, Geonosis. Convenient, then, fitting, that they're the ones who get to clean it up, ammunition dumps and burnt-out hulks and UXO and the accretions disks of dead capital ships with the frozen corpses of their dead brothers amidst the rest. Exploded buildings and rubble and twisted beams and jagged skyscrapers like broken teeth. Shipbreakers and smelters.

The Empire skimps on their protective gear. Alternatively it is fiscally responsible by mandating contracts are awarded to the lower bidder. Whatever the reason, the clones die to UXO, to vacuum, to dormant commando droids. Not many people care; at least they're being useful. Might has well get all the use out of them while they can.

Some deaths take longer; fine dust to scar up their lungs, or improperly stored tibanna rotting through the tanks to pollute the soil. Felucia's microbes slowly wending their up the spinal cord to erupt in the brain years later.

So they're broken up into smaller groups. Ground down by attrition and exhaustion. Some desert. Some find a place among established scavenger crews. Many die, and their deaths are logged in Imperial spreadsheets by Imperial bureaucrats who go home to their loving families and think nothing of it.

[hypothermiatapes]

Tom would never admit it aloud, but the boy hated purebloods far more than he did muggles.

Sure, muggles were beneath him, vermin even, but purebloods? They were far worse. These stuck up prats had never had to work a day in their life, had never known what real fear was. Purebloods had the audacity to act like they had it bad when daddy wouldn’t get them the newest broom, acted like he was scum they found under their shoe.

At least the muggles who worked alongside him knew what it was like to be worked like a dog, lived through terrors most wizards couldn’t dream of. Tom may not like how upbeat some of them are, but at least they didn’t complain about the smallest of inconveniences.

Last summer when Tom had returned to muggle London he found that the city had been devastated by bombs. Almost immediately Mrs. Cole had given him a few pamphlets to look through and told him that if he wanted to have a roof over his head he’d have to start working. Most office jobs had already been filled up and London wasn’t much of an agricultural area so it only left factories.

Wool’s was located on the East End of London near the docks, so it wasn’t hard to find a job working on a shipyard. And oh how he hated it. He worked long hours, dawn to dusk practically. The conditions were grueling as well, he had to work extremely quick with little breaks in dangerous conditions.

It didn’t help that he was extremely quick and picked up the information and skills needed to build far faster than the average employee. The woman he worked alongside were impressed, but even the praise couldn’t make up for the increased labor.

At least he was learning things, but even he wasn’t delusional to be happy about it. All the skills he was obtaining were far below him, and no knowledge could make it better. He had quickly learned welding, riveting, electrical to an extent and some parts of how to build a ship wooden and metal. All things he learned with time he could be studying magic or politics.

The pay wasn’t even bloody worth it, but at least the muggles weren’t spoiled brats.

(Teens from the ages of 14-17 in Britain often worked full time jobs during WWII to aid in war efforts and help support themselves and their families.)

[tomboy014]

Headcanon about Alastor that before he and Vox fell out, he was actually a bit of a cinephile.

It wasn't that he preferred movies to radio or books

But one of the bigger inventions of the 1920s was commercial air conditioning, which was mainly and most well known for being found... in movie theaters

You can't tell me that Alastor never bought a movie ticket just to get out of the summer Louisiana heat for a few hours

And from there, well, you just keep finding excuses to go, and before you know it, our equal opportunity serial killer has seen a lot of movies

[noirgasmweetheart]

Casablanca Continued

Rick and Louie start their work for the Resistance by stopping and liberating a convoy of prisoners, and look who's in there!

Ugarte listens somewhat crossely while Rick describes his and Louie's defection

Reunites with a Jewish lover no one knew he had.

Describing how he killed the two Nazi couriers, using unconventional murder weapons.

Apologizing half-sardonically to Laszlo for not being able to sell him the visas as planned.

Attempting to console Ilsa with "three good months in Paris are better than none."

Laszlo asks Ugarte if he's ready to start working for the Resistance. (Fat Man is already in.)

"Ugah-ti, old friend, help me out?"

"Sorry Rick I uh, stick my neck out for nobody."

Ugarte and his lady friend are now both dedicated to the cause.

[troublesomecousin]

♘ - a memory of their sibling(s)

♘ - a memory of their sibling(s)

It had been years, nearly a whole lifetime it felt like since he'd last seen Orin. But well, Kevin had been living in England for longer now than he had New York, so it made some sense that it felt that way. The wide-eyed kid he had been when he and his mother had moved to be closer to her family had been replaced with a moderately surly teenager, but standing here now with his brother he still felt small. A decade and change difference in age would do that, but Kevin was still disappointed by the fact that he still felt like a baby even now that they were nearly the same size. Plus, he knew how to swear properly now! That made him an adult! "Mum's gonna flip if she finds out you got me these. I think she might kill you first then me," Kevin said, unsure of what else to say as he stuck the pack of cigarettes into his pocket and stuffed the dirty magazines inside his coat. He'd only asked for the cigarettes, but Orin had been grinning ear to ear when he'd practically shoved the paper bag into his little brother's hands. Kevin had almost thought to say something about them not exactly being his taste, but he didn't want to seem ungrateful. That and he wasn't sure he was ready to tell anyone about his "preferences". "S'don't tell her," Orin replied with a shrug as he started back toward the house. Kevin quickly followed after him, his hands sweating a bit as he carried his contraband with him. "You do know how to lie I hope. Woulda figured you'd have inherited that skill from our dad...and besides, your ma loves me. She'd just kill you." Kevin rolled his eyes. "Yea, yeah...I know. She's got a thing for dumbass Americans." "Don't be such a little snot, Kevvy," Orin retorted, reaching over and ruffling the other's hair, much to his displeasure. But Kevin kept his irritation silent, frowning instead before turning his gaze toward the ground. "It's unbecoming of a young man...shit, when'd you get tall? Baby brothers aren't supposed to get tall." Stopping dead in his tracks, Kevin couldn't hide his agitation this time. He glowered at Orin from behind a now disheveled lock of dark hair. "It's been eight years. You stopped writing. What? Did you think I stop growing when you're not around? Think I'm still a kid?" "Kevin..." Orin's voice was uncharacteristically soft, all jocularity lost as he stood there staring. His lips curled slightly as if he was going to say something nasty, and Kevin braced himself, but nothing angry came. "I don't know...I don't think any of that. I just...I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean anything by it." Kevin let his shoulders relax, having until just then not realized how much he had hunched them. He sniffled, trying to contain any further embarrassing displays of emotion. "Fine..." he replied, starting up walking again, this time Orin was the one lagging a few steps behind. "Just...don't do that again. Don't forget about me, okay? Promise you won't." Orin placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder, and despite himself, Kevin did find the warmth and the weight soothing. He didn't get this sort of feeling from anyone else. Not his mother, his step-dad...he'd missed feeling protected by someone outside of himself. "I won't, kiddo. I didn't...I promise." "And promise not to call me 'kiddo'." "No."