#ch: rosie

[rosiesriiveters]

Crosby & Rosie + Onion Headlines/Tumblr Posts 🫡

[ashton-ryder]

👄 Rosie

send a ‘👄 + character name’ and my muse will talk about that character @rosiesdiner

"Rosie sure knows how to run a diner huh? And the garden. You guys have really stepped up to help maintain some order and calm within the building, so.. thank you. I don't have much to offer within the building itself, but Rosie and you? People listen to you guys. Well, also because you guys hold all the food."

[rosiesriiveters]

#i just love this#it's such a neat bit of character work#bucky's hurting already#and lashing out with cynicism#and buck#he's just that touch aloof#and that too is protective#of himself#of bucky and of this new guy who's entirely too fresh to all of this hurt#but rosie#he heard his man tell him that hearing him sing#experiencing that love#meant he didn't feel alone in a dire situation#and that's the thing he gets to take with him as he talks to his new boys#he gets to take the softer lessons with him#they're all good and they're all strong#they're all on very different journeys#mota

sobbing screaming throwing up at these tags

Masters of the Air Part Four | Part Eight

[hephaestn]

Nate Mann as Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal Masters of the Air (2024) — Part Six

[r0sie-bun]

More pages!

[flywolfwriting]

tmitde Ch 15

When Rosie hung up the phone she immediately got to work. She didn't start cooking right away; dinner needed to still be warm when they all arrived and unless Alastor decided to drag their daughter out of the theater - which he wouldn't, if he wished to avoid a scene - they wouldn't be home for two hours at least. That gave her time to straighten up the place.

Rosie kept a tidy home, but she took the time to dust and sweep, then checked all the locks on the doors and windows and drew the shades. She made sure all their emergency knives were in place, well hidden but easily accessible for those that knew where they were.

She didn't want this to end in violence if for no other reason than should it do so, they would lose Charlie forever, but she also knew Alastor would choose to protect them no matter what and if Lucifer was going to be difficult, he was going to be dead.

Once she finished she checked the time again and decided it was close enough to start on dinner.

She had just barely set the dish on the counter when she heard voices out front. Rosie quickly set aside her hot pads and apron and stood in the kitchen doorway, looking down the hallway to the front door. It opened.

The first one through was a small man she hadn’t seen in person but knew through newspaper photos and the odd television interview when she was out with a beau. He was far shorter in real life and far paler than the grays and blacks of print made him look - though that may have been due to the hand still firmly clamped on his shoulder and the thunderous expression of the man attached to it. Charlie was right behind him, eyes downcast and appearing thoroughly chastised. Rosie pursed her lips and folded her arms. The girl’s night was only just beginning.

As if sensing the disapproval Charlie looked up and caught Rosie’s eye, and quickly looked to the side. “I already got it from Al,” she mumbled sourly.

“And you’re going to keep hearing about it, young lady. Get your butt in here and set the table.” Rosie turned her gaze to the pair of men stepping aside to allow the girl to pass. She looked over Lucifer, who flushed under her gaze, before raising a brow at Alastor. “Well? Where are your manners? Are you going to introduce us?”

Alastor’s expression soured further. “Rosie, this is Lucifer. Lucifer, this is my wife, Rosie,” he said stiffly.

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[6thofapril1917]

you don't have to know (that it's haunted)

“Look, just… Please don’t tell the others,” she began, and oh, she hated the way her voice wobbled. “About my brother and sister. They—we’ve got enough on our plate as it is, what with the new squads coming in. I don’t need them worrying about me, ma’am.”

Ground crew doesn't get breaks. When Technician Third Grade Magdalena "Maggie" Zielinski learns of the death and disappearance of her two older siblings, she tries her best to hide her grief from her coworkers - including from a certain curly-haired Master Sergeant.

It doesn't quite work out the way she planned.

masters of the air fic; ken lemmons x oc. 5.8k words. read it on ao3.

taglist: @footprintsinthesxnd @baberoe @hesbuckcompton-baby @latibvles

[ninetyminutes]

The height difference between Lorne and most of the cast is very important to me like just look at them

[latibvles]

a kiss while slow dancing for jo and rosie please!

DO IT ALL AGAIN.

jorosie u will forever be famous I fear... takes place after Rosie's 25th mission. He has News and Josie has a whole lot of feelings. this is sweet. I need to squeeze them until they make the dog squeaky-toy sound.

—

The Officers’ Club is as busy as it’s ever been after a mission with no casualties. And Jo finds herself in a similar position — people-watching, drink in hand, watching in quiet enjoyment that there are no missing faces, no empty beds. It’s all so familiar and yet so different. She hardly recognizes the faces here; they’re all so fresh, so young. They’re free of the hard lines and grays that had started sprouting in the hair and crevices of her more familiar friends’ faces. Jack’s only 24 and already going a little gray. It was all still so strange, so abnormal. Months ago she would’ve been in the middle of Fern’s rapid-fire gossip, or pulling June by her arm away from another argument. Now they were—

She catches herself before she can follow that thread too far and unintentionally ruin this for herself.

This being the movement around her. The smiling faces. The clinking glasses. It’s all so familiar and yet had been sorely missed in the days following their subsequent Berlin bombings. The past several missions with very few casualties had imbued them with something — maybe a small sliver of hope in the grimness of the situation. Jo could work with a sliver, but they just needed to give her something.

This, all of it, is  a welcomed comfort — always hard earned, when it comes to this group.

And at the very least, the faces that were missing were gone  for better reasons. Most of Rosie’s Riveters left this morning, given an exuberant sendoff by Lemmons and his boys. She didn’t get the chance to say a proper goodbye, but Pappy promised to write, so she wasn’t too torn up about it. Well, that wasn’t… exactly true either. She’d wanted to be there. Wanted to see Rosie off, before he went home. It was silly, really, how she’d let these feelings fester for so long. But they’d festered and he’d taken root in her chest and now she had no means or intention of dislodging him from there. She liked him; liked the stories he’d tell, the smiles he’d give her — watching himself work up the courage to ask her to dance every now and again, even though he likely knew the answer would always be yes.

Now she feel like a child kicking a rock down a dirt road all because she couldn’t look him in the eye and say goodbye. Petulant, bordering on huffy.

It doesn’t change the fact that she is kicking herself over this, pulled taut between wanting to be happy and already missing him terribly. She should’ve asked for his address, should’ve promised to write, should’ve—

“Jo!” Her head snaps to the sound abruptly, eyes widening. Rosie’s all smiles, looking pleased with himself and likely with the look of shock on her face — lips parted, eyes widening as he approaches with arms spread at either side of him. …how?

“You’re not…” He’s pressing a polite kiss to her cheek, she’s taking in a breath as she looks him up and down. “Wasn’t your flight this morning?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” Rosie promises, then eyes the floor, the bodies in motion. He watches for a moment, mirth evident in his eyes, and she’s just taking in the sight of it, trying to comprehend the fact that he’s still here. “Y’know, all these nights in here and I just realized that I haven’t taken you for a spin in a while.” Jo, still grappling with her own bafflement, lets out a small laugh at that, a little nod as she eyes him curiously. There wasn’t much time for dancing these days, and not much reason to do it, either. There’d been his 25th celebration — soured by the fact that the mission requirement was upped from 25 to 30.

Hell, she and Willie had made it to 25 just the week before him, with their crew full of not-so-new-girls. But they knew they were staying. Willie wouldn’t leave until Viv came back, and Jo wouldn’t until all of them came home. But… that’d been their choice. To stay, to find consistent roles for themselves in this ever-rotating carousel of airmen. But now that choice had been ripped away from anyone that wasn’t his crew. It wasn’t a good incentive to start dancing.

But he’s offering his hand to her now. Because there’s a reason today, isn’t there? No deaths, no dreadfully missing faces, a chance to actually… get an address, say goodbye when he does leave.

Jo is taking his hand and he’s guiding her with a look that makes her stomach do a flip. Something warm and soft, affectionate in all the ways that make her nervous and safe all at once.

He spins her first before pulling her into him, his hand finding her hip with practiced ease, and Jo just knows that this is one of the many things she’s going to miss about him. The warm roughness of his hand in hers, the hand on her hip and the way he sways with her — looking boyish in all the ways that make her flush and feel really seen. Like she’s something to adore, to marvel at. She squeezes gently at his shoulder, holding his sunny-side-up stare.

“Thought I’d missed you this morning,” she admits, and his brows raise.

“Was wondering what that long face was for,” he wonders aloud, and she watches a soft flush rush to his cheeks. “Sorry about that. Had a… a busy morning.” Jo tilts her head to the side, curiosity piqued by the vagueness of the statement.

“Oh?” He nods, and his hand shifts on her hip, so that it’s resting more on the small of her back. Her face feels warm as his hand presses against her there, nudging her just a little bit closer to him. There’s warmth there, in the space between them; the kind that’s comfortable, safe.

“Had a meeting with the Lieutenant Colonel this morning,” Rosie explains, looking past her as he says it, eyes focused on some point on the wall behind her. She keeps her gaze fixed on him as his tongue pokes out to run over his lips a moment, and then he sniffs. Nervous. She squeezes his shoulder again in assurance that he could leave it there if he felt necessary. “We talked about me maybe… sticking around this place a little while longer.”

She feels her breath hitch in her throat, staring at him with mouth slightly agape, staring at him for a long moment, scrambling for words as they continue to sway.

“So you’re staying?” she manages, but the words feel like they’re being squeezed from her nearly-petrified tongue and teeth.

“350th needed a new CO, Bennett figured I was the guy for the—”

“So you’re staying?” She repeats. She doesn’t mean to cut him off, really she doesn’t. But his words are playing in her head over and over. Him, still here, as the 350th’s CO — it’s all so much in such few words. She doesn’t feel dizzy, but definitely a little weak-legged, and the emotions are probably a little evident on her face, because he’s smiling at her. Something full, flashing teeth, his blue eyes lit up in a way that makes her heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, Josie, I’m stayin’.” Jo lets out a soft, disbelieving scoff, and his body rumbles in a chuckle that she can feel beneath her palm. His thumb rubs a small, gentle circle into her lower back. He’s smiling at her and she’s still grappling with the reveal — embarrassed by the fact that she’d spent so much time kicking herself over not saying goodbye. Her lips tug into a smile, as the shock slowly ebbs away for a more undeniably selfish feeling: gratitude. Thankful that he was staying, that she’d know more than one face on the carousel. She was getting better at that — not scolding herself for wanting things— wanting him, here, with her. Josie, she loves when he calls her that.

She doesn’t even realize she’s leaned forward to kiss him until her lips are pressing against his — soft, chaste, earnest. And really, it doesn’t even register fully until his lips are pressing against hers with similar gentle force. It’s only then that she pulls away, face flushing and staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

He laughs, breathless, shocked, cheeks ruddy and she’s never wanted to hide her face more.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— well no I… I meant to do that one- one day. Maybe not just this instant but I—”

“If I’d known you were gonna do that I would’ve tracked you down as soon as I got out of the meeting.” He takes a quick glance around the room; personnel too caught up in their own partners or conversation to bear mind to the brief kiss shared between them. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Rosie—”

“If you think, for one second, that I’m not doing that again, uninterrupted, then we’ve gotta get your head checked, sweetheart.” His voice is so light, so playful, that it makes her giggle when he laces their fingers, tugging her off the floor and out the door — all for a chance to kiss her again.

[ashton-ryder]

The rooftop garden had been one of those unspoken duties Ash had volunteered to help in, considering its importance for survival, self sustainable food and water was priority at this stage, not having given his working on trying to make communication outside a second thought in a while. "They can live with the hops." Ash followed Rosie out of the greenhouse, moving a crate of seedlings that got a head start in growing during the winter in the artificial warmth. "It's nice though, that the garden's warming up again. bring some variety to the food." Sweet potatoes were no more, pretty sure everyone has been sick of those. "Where do you want to transplant the carrots?" He gestured to the carrot seedlings in the crate already carefully removed.

@ashton-ryder

"Everything seems to be coming in nicely," Rosie squinted at the sunshine after exiting the greenhouse. As soon as the weather warmed, they had moved what no longer needed to be inside the little shelter out into the sun. She was looking forward to the vegetables that summer would bring. "I know everyone's excited about the hops we started, but we can't really do anything with them until the second year." Would they still be here that long from now? Alive?

[rosiesriiveters]

yes, but have you considered: rosie rosenthal?

[flywolf33]

TMITDE Ch 14

This could not have happened at a worse time. Alastor had done very little the last several days other than read and reread every article he could find about the discovered bodies - his bodies, that he’d been so confident were well and truly hidden. From what he could gather they’d found a different body not far from his own dumping ground, and their investigations led them to some of the remains the swamp hadn’t swallowed. Years worth of carpet bags filled with soil and bones. A misplaced knife - one Alastor was certain did not belong to him, as he’d immediately checked his supply upon reading about it.

Of course it was Angel’s. Or, Angel had used it when he killed and attempted to dismember his attacker. Attempted poorly it seemed, since it had been discovered so quickly despite how deep in the bayou it had been. How unfortunate the thug had taken him so close to Alastor’s dumping ground.

It certainly made cleaning up the whole mess all the more complicated.

Alastor was furious of course. Had he not already agreed to help Angel he would have left the boy to dry and found a way to pin all the murders on him. Whether or not he was old enough to have committed the older murders was irrelevant; even if they found anything from the early years those would most certainly be degraded enough to be inadmissible.

Or so Alastor thought. He didn’t dare look further into it; not with all eyes on the incident. Viewership for his show increased, however. Everybody wanted to tune in for the latest updates and Alastor was happy to give it to them. If he had a tad more information than the other sources… it was never enough to be suspicious. He was very careful to toe the line.

The show did turn out to be a bright spot. The bid closed the day after the serial killer story broke and Alastor was surprised to find another company had swooped in and outbid VoxTech at the last moment. He’d laughed for several minutes when he heard; he could imagine Vox’s face turning puce with rage at being thwarted once again. Another win for the Hartfelts. Alastor had never heard of the company that took over and he didn’t have time to look into them at the moment. All he needed to know was that his show was safe and, as an added bonus, he got a raise.

He’d made his maman’s gumbo in celebration, and even Charlie didn’t question what meat he chose to use for it.

Despite the risk, Alastor still needed to work out how to clean up Angel’s mess and keep him out of the detectives’ eyes. That meant tracking down anyone who might know he’d been with the victim that night - and that meant stalking Valentino’s goons on a side of town he rarely went to. He didn’t dare drive; better to walk and be able to slip quietly away when needed than draw more attention to himself. He could always call Rosie to pick him up if he needed.

Shortly after lunch, while Alastor’s current target was smoking on the corner, a flash of blond hair caught his attention. He shouldn’t be surprised to see Lucifer here; it was a more affluent neighborhood after all, and hopefully that meant he was about on his own business and not following him again. That would be hard to explain.

Alastor slipped back into a narrow alleyway to watch him. Lucifer stood in front of the theater, clearly watching for someone, and Alastor couldn’t help a lurch of jealousy in his stomach at the thought that the man might have other friends to spend time with.

Him, jealous? What a ridiculous notion.

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[hanrinz]

"i was an unwanted child" WELL OBVIOUSLY

[ashton-ryder]

"Okay, sure thing," Ash nodded, having no problems with whatever they wanted to learn that's their decision, he can give people his opinion on what they should work on but he wasn't going to shadow them, they'll have to discipline themselves. "Then let's start with a few laps back and forth," he gestured from one end of the roof to the other, "work on your offensive techniques, ways to maim, harm, before we try them out."

He remembered enough of her current skill set to dive right into conditioning without having to reassess again at the start. Worked out well considering he usually preferred being on defensive. "Laps around the roof, whenever you're ready," Ash giving her the space, starting off slow with just conditioning of stamina, ready to join her on the quick runs around the roof. "And if you need a hard stop just let me know."

Little did either of them know a two meal offer would be like winning the lottery come spring time. For now it was a small wager with revisions still stocked and spices lining the shelves. Everyone's fridge was still on and Courtney was downstairs chatting with Ria in the community room.

Rosie did a little jog in place and twisted her arms back and forth to stretch her torso. In hindsight, she should have warmed up inside, the chillier weather out here already tightening her muscles. She was learning lessons already! Although infected wouldn't exactly wait for her to stretch while chasing her.

"Umm..." Usually Rosie went with Ash's schedule on training. He was a great teacher. Letting her pick today's exercise was as good a mark as planning out the others -- he was open to her decisions and what she wanted to focus on -- not just blazing through what he thought they should do. As always, Ash was considerate. He would have made a really good doctor, the medical kind that was.

"How about offense ? Like I'm offense."

[hephaestn]

Nate Mann as Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal Masters of the Air (2024) — Part Seven

[rosenbergamot]

me when i should be studying: i should be editing my mumscarian mermaid au