#crosie

[tuungaq]

rosie's bi awakening was buck but his first romantic crush on a man was croz and i stand by that. like what are you doing inviting that cheating man and his newborn baby to a jazz club. girl get UP!!!

[thatsrightice]

February 3rd, Rosie got shot down.

On March 1st, Crosby received a phone call.

It was Rosie.

"I'm in Russia. Will you save a squadron for me?”

He could have called and asked for anybody, and he asked for Crosby.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Prompt: an arm draped over shaking shoulders

Pairing: Crosie

Rosie's mid-conversation with a couple of replacements when he hears Harry laugh. He turns in surprise, tracking the sound until he can see Harry himself. He's halfway across the O-club, one hand covering his mouth at something Blakely's said. His eyes are bright, and he looks truly delighted. 

"Excuse me," Rosie says to the replacements and walks away before they can say anything. He stops just short of Harry, who glances over at him and starts laughing again. Rosie can't help but stare. He hasn't heard Harry laugh in weeks. He's been so tired. So worn out. Rosie had thought getting through D-Day would have lifted some of Harry's burden, but it's felt like he's only gotten more focused and exhausted. 

"Hey, Rosie!" Blakely greets, big smile and a flash of mischief in his eyes. "Me and Harry were watching you talk to the replacements."

"Harry and I," Rosie corrects without thinking, and for some reason, that makes Harry laugh again. Curling in half and nearly spilling his drink. Rosie plucks Harry's glass out of his hand without a thought, and then Harry's leaning on the way, holding his own sides as he turns very,  very  pink. 

"What the devil is going on?" Rosie asks.

Blakely takes a sip of his drink and glances at Harry. He's still in the throes of laughter. "Just having a conversation," he says. "No clue what's so funny."

"Liar!" Harry manages to say, then collapses into more laughter. He ends up sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. 

"Harry?" Rosie  asks.  He hands Blakely Harry's drink and crouches down so he and Harry are basically on the same level. "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry nods and takes a deep breath. He lets it out in a loud whoosh, then starts to laugh  yet again. He grabs at Rosie's hand and pulls him towards him. "Blakely was–" He can't say anything else, it seems. He squeezes Rosie's hand, then pulls him close enough he can steal a kiss. "He was–"

Rosie presses his palm to Harry's cheek. It's bright pink and very warm. He looks up at Blakely. "Did you slip him something or something?"

Blakely barks a laugh. "No," he says, giving Harry's ankle a light kick. "I was doing a voice. Guess it hit him just right."

"A voice?" Rosie thinks about what Blakely just said. "Wait," he says, and he knows his gaze sharpens when Blakely's eyes widen. "Were you mocking me?"

"No!" Harry says. "No! It was–" He wipes a hand across his mouth. "No."

"I was guessing what you were telling the replacements and how they were fawning over you," Blakely says. "If anything, I was making fun of them."

Rosie almost tells Blakely he shouldn't make fun of the new guys, but Blakely smirks because of how Rosie's expression changes, and Rosie bites down on the urge. Harry's giggling is finally slowing down, though his shoulders are still shaking. Rosie shifts so he and Harry are side-by-side, their backs to the wall. "Does he even sound like me?" he asks Harry. 

Harry shakes his head. 

Rosie holds out his free hand, and Blakely passes down Harry's drink. Rosie hands it to Harry. "Take a sip," he says.

Harry manages a sip. Rosie slips his arm around Harry's shoulders. They're still shaking with laughter. "Not even sure it was that funny," Harry says. 

"Oh, fuck you," Blakely replies, kicking Harry's ankle a little harder than before.

"It was just…" Harry shrugs and glances at Rosie, and then he's laughing again. 

Rosie rests his hand on the side of Harry's head and lets him laugh as much as he wants. He doesn't care it was somewhat at his own expense. Not even a little bit. Harry's laughing. 

[spinteresting]

MotA ship headcanons

Who is the jealous type?

Clegan

Bucky is the jealous one. Have you seen his reactions to Marge? Case closed. He gets snarky and begs for attention. Gale shuts down his emotions so hard he wouldn’t know he was jealous until a year later.

Crosie

Crosby gets sporadically jealous. You never know when his jealousy will strike. When he’s jealous he gets flustered and talks too much. Rosie is just not the jealous type.

Dougley

Ev is always cool and collected, but Dougie gets jealous whenever another guy flirts with Ev. Girls he doesn’t mind, he knows Ev isn’t actually interested in them. But if a guy flirts with Ev, Dougie will quickly butt in and stake his claim with an arm thrown over Ev’s shoulder.

Ham x Brady

Brady is the jealous type but he tries to keep it under control. He knows logically that Ham and Dougie are just friends but his primal brain often makes him want to pull Ham away. He doesn’t though.

Do Ham & Brady have a ship name?

[scuttle-buttle]

BEEEEE I HEARD CROZ AND ROSIE HCS??? 👀👀👀 I WILL TAKE LITERALLY ANYTHING YOU HAVE but also I’d absolutely love anything related to the Co-Pilots universe if you have anything 👀👉👈

Hope you’re having a good day!! 🥰

- Sage 🤍 @sagesolsticewrites

Bestieeeeee 🥰

18+ under the cut

Crosby discovers he has a thing for mustaches. After he and Rosie give in to each other he learns that the feel of those little tiny hairs on his upper lip feels really really good in many places. Whether it's his mouth, his neck, his tummy, his thighs, or his - 🐛. He loves that scratch. He revels in the patches of beard (mustache) burn that redden his thighs, how nobody knows his secret under his trousers. Nobody but you and him and Rosie.

Alternatively, rosie discovers he has his version of the kink. He loves Crosby's nose. How it gives Croz such a unique and beautiful side profile. How when Croz laughs too hard it sometimes makes a little snort. The feel of it dragging up his shoulder blade, his neck, his calves, the ridges of his - 🐛

[ecoustsaintmein]

shameless self-promotion time

I haven't been able to contribute much to the MotA fandom, apart from some amateur art, but I did write some Crosie fics, given that there has been much interest in their relationship within the fandom recently:

monsters, (rated T):

'Rosie says that he’s read Croz’s last letter; one he received before the last one from Jean. “I’m flattered,” Rosie begins, “—that you’d thought about me at night. Sounds a bit like a love letter, don’t you think?”'

Or,

Croz is struggling with civilian life after the war. Jean stages an intervention by inviting Rosie to spend time at their home. The result is not what Croz expects.

bite, (rated M):

'You think you know how Eve must have felt when she held the apple in her palm, red and tempting.'

Or,

Croz reflects on the secret relationship he has with Rosie.

[daysofxavierspast]

I honestly wonder if Anto ad-libbed slapping the book out of Nate’s hand.

when you sleep through a pivotal moment in history

[roterstern]

[thatsrightice]

I’m just imagining Buck, Bucky, and the other POWs at Thorpe Abbotts asking Rosie and Croz about D-Day and Rosie and Croz happily tell them about the planning and stuff that led up to it. When they start to ask about the mission itself, Croz lets Rosie take over.

But then they turn to Crosby and are like “how about you Croz? I bet you were leading the whole shebang” and now he has to admit that he didn’t fly the mission, which he’s still very much upset about so he doesn’t elaborate much. Everyone’s outraged for him, like “They didn’t let you fly? Well, why the heck not?!”

Leave it to Rosie to quietly step in and explain that “He was in the hospital.” Eyes immediately snap to the navigator who is refusing to look at any of them out of embarrassment. “He was in a coma for three days. Malnutrition, dehydration, and sleep deprivation, you name it. Smokey said he just about worked himself to death up in Group Ops.”

And Crosby was going to protest, but nah that actually sounded pretty accurate. “Couldn’t keep a proper meal down for days,” he’d try to joke, but everyone just kept staring at him.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

This is a moment where we get a role reversal. Harry sees that Rosie needs someone to take care of HIM for a change, and he's up for it. He tells Rosie he's not going on the mission, and then he convinces him to go for a walk.

Rosie had told Harry he was going to re-up, asked his opinion and listened. And now it's Harry turn to give that back. He asks Rosie how he is. What he needs. How he can help.

"I don't know," Rosie says, pulling Harry in close. "But this feels good."

And Harry stops walking so he can hug Rosie properly. A tight, warm, long hug. Rosie presses their cheeks together and sighs and relaxes under Harry's hold.

"Thank you," Rosie says.

"I take care of you, too," Harry replies. "That's what you always tell me."

And Rosie kisses his cheek and cups the back of his head. "Baby boy, thank you."

And Harry feels so proud of himself. So glad he can do something to help. He presses his face into Rosie's neck and breathes in deep.

Robert (Rosie) Rosenthal and Harry Crosby

Masters of the Air Episode 7

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Prompt: [GROUND]: during a moment of intense emotional stress, the sender gently takes the receiver's face in their hands to ground them until they're calmer again. (Crosie)

Content warning in this one: There's detail on the gas chambers in the camps during the Holocaust. This includes talking about how the Nazis disguised shower rooms to look like Jewish bathhouses as a way to trick prisoners into calmly walking towards them. I'm not sure how widespread this practice was, but I know they found evidence of it at Treblinka.

Anyway, to the hurt/comfort

Harry's in the living room when he hears a thump from Rosie's office. "Rosie?" he calls, expecting the usual reply of 'Fine, just dropped a book,'. 

He glances at the clock. It's after eight. Rosie's been up since four this morning, working since five. Harry had woken at six and found Rosie scribbling notes on a pad and ignoring the sunrise over Nuremberg.

Harry's used to the long hours Rosie keeps right now. He's in Nuremberg to prosecute war criminals. It takes a lot of work. But eight in the evening is late even for Rosie, so Harry stands up and walks down the hall ready to tease Rosie about acting a bit too much like himself with these hours. 

The smile and joke die in his throat as he walks into the office and finds Rosie curled up next to the armchair.  There's a file on the floor, papers scattered in a fan. There's no book. The thump was Rosie falling to the floor. 

Harry rushes over and crouches down. "Rosie?" he asks. Rosie's staring into the middle distance, far away from his office and Harry. Harry touches Rosie's arm, but Rosie doesn't look at him. Harry  glances at the papers, trying to figure out what's caused Rosie to go still. There's a piece of paper turned face down, and Harry turns it over. He skims it. It's an affidavit from someone who survived the camps. Harry knows Rosie's read a lot of them. He wonders what in this one has hurt him like this.

Rosie makes a small sound, and Harry turns, dropping the paper back to the floor. He reaches out and cups Rosie's face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. 

"I'm right here," Harry says, looking into Rosie's eyes but unsurprised when he still doesn't focus. "It's Harry, Rosie. I'm here. You're in your office in the apartment in Nuremberg."

Finally, Rosie blinks. His eyes focus on Harry's. Tears start forming. "I saw one," he says.

"Saw what?" Harry asks. 

"A shower. There weren't…no one was there. But they'd been there." 

Harry doesn't know what to say. He knows about the camps, of course. Everyone does. It's been on the newsreels and in the papers and Eisenhower even sent boys to witness the first one they'd found. He knows about the showers, too. How they were used. He keeps stroking Rosie's cheeks even as Rosie's tears fall and trail along his hands. 

"They kept adding it to the camps," Rosie says, and his eyes flick to the papers on the floor. "They were…We know it was all planned. But."  He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. "Harry, it was planned." 

Harry drops one hand from Rosie's cheek and turns towards the papers again. He picks up the one he was reading before and reads it more closely. The witness talks about building the shower room, about placing tiles.

"The gas took time," Rosie says. "They had time to scratch into the walls."

Harry reads over the whole page again. The witness doesn't say anything about the walls. "What walls, Rosie?" Harry asks.

"At the camp," Rosie says. "At the camp I saw."

Harry goes very still. "You…when did you see a camp?"

"The Russians," Rosie replies. 

Harry slips his hand from Rosie's cheek to under his chin. He tilts up Rosie's chin. Rosie's face is red and wet. There's a horrible emptiness in his eyes Harry's only seen after his nightmares. "Come  here," Harry says and pulls at Rosie's arm–the one that broke, he realizes–until Rosie gets to his feet and lets Harry sit him on the couch. Harry sits next to him, then pulls him in tight. "What did you see, Rosie?" he asks. Because there is no other question. He'd had no idea Rosie had seen a camp for himself, but the newsreels nearly made Harry sick, and he can't imagine it wasn't exponentially worse up close. 

"They had scratched things into the walls," Rosie says. "Names. Prayers. A menorah."

Harry strokes Rosie's hair. He has no idea what to say. He's so shocked even his anxiety is quiet. The idea that there were people in those rooms who knew they were dying. Who'd scratched some sort of memorial with…fingernails? It had to be fingernails. They'd have been naked in that room.

"It was disguised as a mikvah," Rosie says. "To keep them calm; to trick them. So they wouldn't know they were going to die. They scratched on the walls."

"What's a mikvah?" Harry asks. The word hadn't been on the page he'd read. It must have been on one of the others on the floor. 

"A bathhouse," Rosie says. "A Jewish bathhouse. They're special, not just a place to get clean. They can look like…"

Like the showerhouses, Harry realizes. "I understand," he says, and he's glad he's said it because Rosie sags against him and sobs in a way he clearly needs. 

But he's lying a little. He doesn't understand. Can't possibly, he knows that. The Nazis took something special and made it profane, used Jewish traditions against the Jews to make it easier to kill them en masse. What must it feel like to know for certain you're dying, Harry wonders. What must it feel like to walk into a death chamber disguised as something you trust and have to scratch your final hopes into a wall with your fingernails?

Harry turns his face into Rosie's curls and takes a deep, slow breath. Rosie keeps sobbing on his shoulder, and he stays put, offering what little comfort he can.

[spinteresting]

Rosie/Crosby "Did you just try to kiss it better?"

Thanks for the prompt! This was fun to write.

Crosby looks up from his records when he hears the door bang open. Rosie is standing in the doorway dripping onto the mat.

“Is it raining?” Crosby asks.

“No. It is not raining, Croz.” Rosie says with a scowl and walks into the room.

“How’d you get so wet and muddy then?”

Rosie pulls off his jacket and shirt. “I wrecked the stupid bike again. How is it that I can fly an airplane but can’t steer a bike?!”

Crosby fights the grin trying to take over his face. “It’s not you. It’s these English bicycles. They’re terrible.”

Crosby crosses the room to stand in front of Rosie. His poor Rosie who can’t get the hang of riding these bikes.

“But no one else is wrecking as often as I am!” Rosie is more exasperated than Crosby had ever seen him. “Think I bruised my shoulder this time.”

Crosby grins up at him before leaning forward and kissing his shoulder.

Rosie smiles crookedly. “Did you just try to kiss it better?”

Crosby nods and giggles. “I think you’ve got some mud in your hair.”

[peoplegettingreallymadatcards]

Any posts about the UB announcements?

A couple

[daysofxavierspast]

THIS IS EVIL!!! MY TWO POOKIES!

ROUND TWO. All other polls here

[dxscordia-dxspair]

📱 - Faye

[Text: Cro] Do u think I need a wardrobe change for on stage or is it fine w/ what I got now

@sentry-crosis

[papertowness]

i’m drunk and it’s christmas eve , i lobe watching danny kaye and co fance . merry christmas , in georgia there are no white chrisrmqs s , i hope it’s snowing somewhere