#howard hambone hamilton Tumblr posts

[therealslimshakespeare]

[itstheheebiejeebies]

I don't think we talk enough about how Hambone essentially scruffs Crosby like a cat to pull him out of the fort after they have their belly landing in the first episode

Full episode caps are in a ZIP file which can be found here

If you would like to be tagged when I post them or have a scene or character you’d like to see screencaps of send me an ask. If you use them you don’t have to credit me but it would be nice if you could tag me so I can see what you did with them. all of my edits and screencaps can be found here

Taglist: @bcofl0ve @montied @impalachick

[probably-not-a-rocketscientist]

Bored

You're bored of Bucky talking about his love life. Luckily, your favorite bombardier swoops in to save the day.

Warnings: Historical inaccuracies (its good for the plot)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Just a short Hambone fic I came up with at work! Inspired by Bored by Laufey.

You had been listening, for what felt like hours, to Bucky’s rants about Lil and Dye’s relationship. At first, you felt sorry for him. You spotted him across the dance hall, his usual cheery self now sulking and sad. Helen and Tatty had filled you in on what happened with Bucky and Lil, claiming he had been like this for days now. You questioned the validity of their information, but they assured you that they'd overheard some of the pilots talk about it earlier. You decided to be a good friend to Bucky and, against Helen and Tatty’s advice, walked over to where he was sitting to ask him how he was feeling. 

So now, instead of dancing and enjoying your night, you were stuck here. You could’ve left, but some part of you would have felt guilty for leaving him to deal with his heartache by himself. Even Buck, who was used to Bucky’s erratic behaviors, steered clear of him tonight. 

Hambone saw that you were sitting with Buck, listening to whatever he was rambling on about. In fact, he saw you the moment you walked in, instantly taking his attention away from the conversation he was having with Douglass and Blakley to focus on you instead. Your usual grease stained coveralls were replaced with a blue dress and topped with a bright cherry lip. It wasn't that he didn't like your usual attire. Seeing you in your ground crew uniform was the best part of his day. But the sight of you in that dress was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

His infatuation for you started from the moment he arrived at Thorpe Abbotts. After the quite unfortunate landing of their plane, you and the rest of the ground crew jumped into action, making sure that the plane wouldn’t blow up after landing. After stabilizing everything and loading it up to be fixed, you had gone to check up on him. The fact that you went to him, out of everyone else on the plane, was the greatest welcome he could've received, and it only solidified your friendship with him.

The two of you grew closer after that encounter. You're the last person he sees on the ground before every mission and the first when he lands. He claims that you're his ‘good luck charm’ and that he always gets back safely when you're there. He also shares his bad jokes with you (you swear that they’re actually funny, he doesn’t believe you) and anecdotes about his life before the war. 

You tell him about growing up in the city, a stark contrast to his Midwestern upbringing. He learns that after the war, you plan on finishing your degree just like him, and he can't help but picture life together with you stateside. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Douglass, who noticed his lack of attention and he followed his gaze to you, earning him a thump on the shoulder. 

“Go talk to her,” Douglass encouraged. 

“She’s busy with Bucky,” Hambone argued. He did want to talk to you, tell you how pretty you looked tonight and chat with you until the sun came up, but some part of his brain stopped him from doing so and filled him up with nervousness instead.

“No she’s not, she’s clearly bored out of her mind,” Blakely added. And he was right. Even from across the room, it was clear that you were looking for any chance to escape the mostly one-sided conversation.

“I talk to her everyday, she probably doesn’t even want to see me.”

“If you don’t go over there right now, I will. And I’ll tell her that you talk about her for hours and even that one time you‒”

“Ok, ok I’ll go,” Hambone pleads, quickly standing up from his seat before his friends embarrass him even more. 

He looks over to you once again. You still have the same unamused expression on your face, occasionally nodding to signal that you were still listening to whatever Bucky was still rambling about. Taking a deep breath, he makes his way over to you. 

“Excuse me, Major. But the Lieutenant here promised me a dance tonight and I plan on taking her up on that offer.”

You were confused. You don’t remember Hambone asking you to dance earlier, and you knew he preferred to socialize at parties instead. Then, you realized what he was doing and looked over to Bucky, hoping he would let you be excused and more importantly, put you out of your misery.

When Bucky shooed you off and told you to enjoy the rest of your night, you jumped out of your chair with a little too much excitement and took Hambone’s hand as he led you out onto the dancefloor. 

After finding a spot, you placed your hands on his shoulders. Hambone, wanting to be respectful, rested his hands a little too far above your waist. You smiled at how sweet this gesture was. 

“Howard, I’m not your little sister. You can put your hands a little lower,” you teased. He still hesitated, so you took his hands in yours and moved them down. His hands feel warm against the fabric of your dress, and it's a feeling so addictive that it only strengthens the not-so-tiny crush you have on him.

“Better?” you asked.

“Better.”

You took this time to take in his appearance. He was wearing his Air Force issued olive suit. His usual floppy hair was brushed back and his mustaches neatly trimmed. Even in the midst of war, dancing at these parties with your favorite bombardier had provided you with a sense of much needed calmness.

The two of you swayed to the slow song the band was playing as you made small talk. You loved hearing the small details that made his day better. Like how his coffee was perfect this morning, or that the mission he went on earlier today was successful. However, he said that the best part of his day was seeing how pretty you looked in your dress and how your smile lit up the room. You had blushed at his last comment, knowing he was generally a flirt, but it had an effect on you every single time. You also filled him in on what happened with Bucky and his unfortunate love life. He laughed when you told him how long you were stuck there for, and you gently swatted him on the shoulder for doing so.

“But really, thanks for the assist. You were my real knight in shining armor earlier. What could I ever do to repay you?” you joked dramatically.

“A kiss should be enough.”

You froze at his answer. You knew it was a joke, but what if he was serious? Was this your chance to finally tell him how you feel?

Hambone, on the other hand, was panicking. A million thoughts had raced through his head. Had he gone too far? What if you never wanted to see him again and he had lost you as a friend, or‒

Before he could think another thought, you took his head in your hands and kissed him. It was a feeling he had imagined many times, but none of those compared to the real thing. He was trying to commit all of it to memory, from the flowery scent of your perfume to the cotton fabric of your dress under his hands. But the thing he loved the most was the way your thumbs gently brushed across his cheeks, attempting to pull him down to deepen the kiss.

When you finally had to separate for air, you searched his face for any signs of disgust or regret. Instead, you were met with that gold-tooth smile that you loved. That smile was dangerous, almost lethal, to the rhythm of your heart, and it made you wonder if he knew he had this effect on you. You then noticed the amount of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his, making you giggle.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” he asked. He was still close to your face, trying to memorize every freckle, and that crinkle in your eyes when you smiled. He noticed that the scar on your right eyebrow was almost fully healed. He was with you during that accident, even talking with you for hours in case you had a concussion and was told not to fall asleep.

You took your thumb and swiped it across his lips. Then, you turned it around to show him the red pigment. He gave you a hum of amusement, satisfied with the result.

“Might as well get a little more.”

This time, he leaned to kiss you. This kiss is more passionate, almost as if it was fueled by months of pining and stolen glances. He pulled you in closer so that your bodies were flush, causing you to gasp into the kiss. He would’ve stayed here forever if he could, with you in his arms and not a single worry plaguing his mind.

You pulled away from him when you heard the sounds of cheering coming from his original table. Douglass and Blakely were still there, now joined by Brady and Crosby. Hambone had no doubt in his mind that they were gossiping about how they wouldn’t have to endure him pining over you every second of the day anymore.

Hambone walked back over with you under his arm and a grin on his face. More cheers came from the men, along with a few ‘congrats’ and ‘about time’s sprinkled in. You attempted to hide your blushing cheeks in Hambone's shoulder, not aware that your mutual feelings for each other were painfully obvious to everyone else.

“Red looks good on you,” Douglass said as he tossed Hambone a napkin to clean himself up. He doesn’t realize just how much of your lipstick is on him until he sees the amount he wipes off. You look at him with a smirk, almost proud of the way you marked his lips with red hue. 

“I bet it does,” he agrees as he looks over to you with love in his eyes.

[brotherwtf]

y'all don't understand, I am a Hambone TRUTHER

like that is my BABYGIRL my DARLING..I love him :((

bro is probably like third in the lineup of fave mota boys (behind Gale and John lol), literally screaming every time bro is on screen

[darkimpala1897]

The Cleven twins Masters Of Air Au headcanons.

1. Gale's twin is name Ruth Thomas Cleven, he's the youngest by ten minutes, everyone calls him Ruthy, Bucky calls him Bucket, because he's Bucky, Buck is Buck, and Ruth is Bucket.

2. His dark hair comes from his mother, well Bucks blonde hair comes from his father.

3. Ruth teases Buck anytime he brings Marge up, he goes "Marge this, Marge that, we get it."

4. Is there for Bucky when he realizes he's in love with Buck.

5. He awkwardly kissed Bucky to test a theory that maybe he's attracted to him and not Buck, but Bucky immediately reacted by going "That was like kissing my sister, no definitely in love with Buck not you" and Ruth was like "Jeez thanks."

6. Does drunk karaoke with Bucky, you would think he was Buckys twin not Bucks.

7. When Buck goes missing, he insisted his brother was still alive actually he yelled at anyone who said he was dead, "it's a twin thing" Bucky would say.

8. When they are reunited with Buck in the prison camp he straight up went "I told you so." And Bucky just glared at him.

9. Ruth is the polar opposite of Buck, he keeps Buck on his toes that's for sure.

10. Anytime anyone picks on Buck for his name being Gale, Ruth makes sure to let them know that only he can pick on Buck for being called Gale.

11. Will straight up punch someone when they ask why he's named Ruth.

12. His accent is thicker than Bucks, Bubbles one time joked he needed subtitles.

13. One of the biggest pranks Bucky pulled on the newest airmen was when they asked where Major Gale Clevens was, he'd point him in the direction of Ruth who always plays along.

14. Ham somtimes somehow gets them confused with the other, Ruth finds it hilarious and doesn't correct him, Buck does because he feels bad.

15. Major flirt and playboy Ruth is, he always says "I'll write you." With a smile and a smirk, and then Buck is like "You're aren't going to write her will you?" And then Ruth is like "Do I look like you and Marge?" And then Buck is like "Sometimes I'm ashamed that you have my face."

16. Ruth will eat anything, Buck is a peaky eater.

17. Ruth can pretty much mimic any accent, he isn't great at mimicking people but accents he's amazing at, he enjoyed scaring everyone in the prison camp by randomly yelling in a German accent, worked everytime.

18. Ruth can't ride a bike, I mean he can but not amazingly. He runs into everything.

19. Ruth does his brothers hair, he cuts it and styles it, but he refuses to let Buck touch his hair because it's already "perfect."

20. Terrible dancer, he enjoys embarrassing his twin at any chance he gets. That's why everyone jokes he's Buckys twin and not Bucks.

21. Biggest Bucky and Buck shipper ever.

Add onto this AU if you wanted! Write a fic if you wanted, do whatever!

Thanks for reading!

[thatsrightice]

“Almost no one, not even my crew members, except for Ham knows how often I get airsick. I would have died before I admitted that I was scared.“

— Harry Crosby in his memoir, A Wing and a Prayer

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

cowboy like me -> howard 'hambone' hamilton x oc

The smell of whiskey and stale beer was already thick in the air by the time Hambone made it to the bar, shouldering his way through the crowds that filled the pub as he let his gaze wander in search of one particular - and markedly absent - face.

This never happened. Whenever they went out, they made it a habit to meet on the corner by the post office and walk in together, and yet today he had stood waiting for almost twenty minutes, and Dawn Davis had never shown. If there had ever been a reason for this ritual, it was long forgotten, but her disregard of it had left a distinctly sour taste in his mouth. It was nearly impossible for him to get mad at her. But tonight?

Tonight was the same. As irritated as he was, Howard couldn't quite manage to direct the feeling at Dawn without a pang of guilt poking at his chest.

He waited impatiently for his drink, fingers thrumming tunelessly upon the polished wood as his other friends no doubt awaited his return. Just as the pint glass was slid across to him, another body arrived at his side, letting out a sigh as her shoulder bumped against his. Dawn's shirt was even more crumpled than usual, rolled up to her elbows, half sticking out of her trousers, and her hair had almost entirely fallen out of its ponytail. "Dawn?" He raised his beer to his lips, almost choking on it as he noticed the scratches across her cheek. "Jesus, what happened?"

"Left the door open... pigeon got in the hut," She explained, nodding continuously and leaning against the bar as if about to fall over. A faint sheen of sweat covered her face, and he began to wonder if she'd ran all the way here. "Turns out I'm not a talented pigeon wrangler."

Hambone couldn't help the bubble of laughter that escaped his throat. "Well, you can't be good at everything."

"I don't see why not," She shook her head slightly, turning away from him momentarily to order herself a drink.

"So what'd you do with it?"

Dawn's expression fell flat, brow arching in that judgemental way she seemed to reserve just for him. "I took it to your hut and made it shit in your bed - what the fuck d'you think I did with it? I put it outside like a sane person."

"Well, I've just never known you to be a sane person," He shrugged with a grin, chuckling as she elbowed him in the side. "You got a little bird shit on your shoe."

"Well, the first time I met you, you were covered in Crosby puke," she noted sweetly, and Hambone let out a disgruntled yelp as she twisted her foot to wipe the stain off on his leg.

"Asshole."

"We're both assholes."

He slung his arm around her neck, pulling her closer to him. To anyone else, it surely appeared an affectionate gesture, but to Dawn, it was little more than a headlock, a surprised giggle escaping her.

"Don't go 'round tellin' people that - I got a date on Friday and I don't need the word spreading."

"A date?" She snorted, delivering a half-assed punch to his stomach as she wormed her way out of his grip. "Who'd wanna take out your ugly mug?"

"She's called Vivian, and she's a lot nicer than you."

Dawn nodded along to this, lips pursed in a teasing smile as she ignored the sudden discomfort tugging at her stomach. "Well, that sounds dull. I hope she likes your birdshit trousers."

"That was your fault!" Hambone declared, and she lifted her glass to her lips as she shrugged, free hand raised in mock surrender. As Dawn turned away from him, he began to head back towards his other friends, tugging gently at the end of her ponytail and eliciting an outraged gasp as he passed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The moment Hambone had disappeared from sight, Dawn's stride quickened, nipping her way gracefully through the crowd in search of her crew. A familiar flash of blonde caught her eye, and her direction swiftly changed, making a beeline towards the corner in which the pair of waist gunners were already deep in discussion. Before Sadie nor Angel had scarcely had time to register her interruption, Dawn began to speak at them, hands held out in front of her as if bracing herself for something.

"Alright, huddle up people - do we know a Vivian? I don't think I know a Vivian."

Angel's chin creased with a frown, clearly still trying to figure out what was happening. "...I don't think so?"

Sadie didn't seem to waste time questioning the sudden intrusion, instead taking a moment to think the question over. She snapped her fingers. "Nurse Corps, pretty sure. Talked to her when Kit fucked up her hand."

"Oh, of course, all nice and caring, I bet - so fucking stupid," Dawn scoffed, earning nothing but a pair of confused. "I mean who even likes the name Vivian? Dumb name."

"I think it's pretty," Angel shrugged.

"Ok, well no one asked for your opinion, actually, so maybe shut up."

Sadie's brow furrowed. "Woah."

"Sorry. Love you guys."

"Why do you look terrible?" Angel asked.

"Uh, no reason. Just - if you find some pigeon feathers in your bed later, don't worry 'bout it."

"... Okay..."

"Alright, second question," Sadie added. "Why do we care about some random nurse suddenly?"

Dawn hesitated for a moment, shrugging awkwardly. "Hambone's going out with her."

"And is this a good thing or a bad thing?" Angel nudged.

"Nah, it's just a thing - I don't care."

"Uh-huh, yeah, 'cause this just seemed like the behaviour of someone who cares."

"Or someone who's lost their fucking mind," Sadie pointed out, earning a pointed stare from the brunette beside her.

Dawn let out a forced chuckle. "You guys read into things too much."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hambone flashed a smile as he slipped back into his circle of friends, Douglass and Blakely pausing their conversation to note his arrival. "You get lost on the way to the bar or something?" Everett asked, brow raised.

He shrugged. "Dawn arrived."

The two men exchanged a lingering glance, and Douglass cleared his throat before he spoke up. "Hey, 's it true you got a date with that nurse?"

Lip curling in a proud smile, Howard nodded. "Sure is."

"I didn't know you and Davis were done," Blakely frowned. "Sorry, man."

His smile faded, a look of confusion furrowing his brow. "... What are you talking about?"

"Well, I just thought you guys were going pretty steady."

Hambone's jaw hung slack for a moment as he processed what the others were insinuating. A surprised bark of laughter suddenly left him as he shook his head, shrugging. "Dawn - Dawn ain't my girl, we've never... never. She's my friend."

Blakely and Douglass were staring at each other again. James was the first to crack, snorting back a chuckle. "Sure thing."

"Aw, Jesus - I'm serious."

"Hey, I believe you," He nodded, but something in his expression declared the opposite.

What could he say? That he'd never seen her that way - that he'd never even thought about it. That he could never consider her more than a friend, and that she was the last person he'd ever take out like that. Maybe that it hadn't felt even a tiny bit like a betrayal when he'd asked Vivian out and lit up like a Christmas tree at her acceptance. Or that he hadn't cared when he thought Dawn wasn't coming tonight - that he hadn't found himself worrying about all the possible reasons she could've been late.

Howard Hamilton could've said any of those things.

None of them would've been true.

[middlingmay]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks @amiserableseriesofevents @ranger-elizabeth @joeyalohadream and @rambleonwaywardson for the tag.

And I know it's Thursday, but let's just ignore that...

Rules: post a snippet from one of your current WIPs and pass on the love by tagging other writers.

A snippet from chapter four of That Ol' Devil Called Love since it's consumed me entirely. And I wanted to share a larger snippet of Ken's encounter with a rival crew. Enjoy!

Bucky saw the moment BB twitched in Kenny’s direction and used years of swinging bats and pitching baseballs and tearing into trouble much bigger than him, to catch BB in the kisser until he felt the outline of teeth. BB nearly got lucky, to his credit, taking a swing at Bucky’s throat. But Bucky clocked it and shoved him hard, gave him a boot up the ass that hit tailbone. BB almost landed on his face, would have, if a bruised and bloody George hadn't caught him. He spat out a glob of blood and looked up to see the 100th in a protective ring around a grinning and bright-eyed Ken on the ground. “I told ya,” Ken panted through the legs of his guard dogs, “to get the hell out of here. The fuck outta my sight! Get!” With a nasty look that had Bucky shifting his leg to better hide Kenny from view, BB and the Sixes finally obeyed. Except Ham. He and Crank held each other up, and when Ham went to follow after them, Crank pulled him back with a sharp noise and gripping hands. But Ham peeled him off. “Charlie. Let go. I gotta. It’ll be worse if I don’t. I know what I’m doing—let go.” He had to yank his sleeve out of Crank's grip to catch the cars peeling away and jumped into a open, waiting door.

I know loads of people have been tagged, and no pressure to play along either, but tagging @donotnomi @caustinen. And I don't know if you fic, but @crowthis too, if you had any artwork WIPS you want to share :).

[latibvles]

also this is purely bc inez is the light of my life — and with anyone you wish with her!!! [ silence ] sender and receiver comfortably exist in silence together, both of them working or reading or focusing on something different :D thank u thank u!

silence.

listen. whenever I am given a "whoever you want!" I take that as a moment to essentially get as weird as possible. this is prime example of that but it works to me. and is also a fun way to step out of my comfort zone and write somebody new. so thanks for the prompt, friend! <3

—

Inez really did treasure her quiet nights in the front room, right by the snack bar.

She’d always been that way. Inez was more often the type to find herself hiding in the residence hall as opposed to tagging along with her roommate on an escapade back when she was in school. Now, it was often at her crew’s insistence that she follow them off base and into town, but sometimes, they could be merciful upon her dwindling social battery and allot her her rationed moment of quiet time in the front room.

It’s mostly empty, too, which is a welcome relief as Inez makes her way over. There's a couple stragglers, all preoccupied much like she was soon to be, and she gives Helen a warm smile that the woman returns.

“Coffee, Lieutenant?”

“Maybe in a little, thanks Helen,” she says and makes a beeline for one of the wicker chairs by the window, settling her newest recommendation in her lap as she fiddles with her glasses to get them back onto her face.

There were many reasons to be thankful for Josephine Alden: her listening ear, her natural pension for diffusing things, her willingness to wrangle the curious village children and answer their questions. And of course, the massive set of books that she’d dragged with her across the ocean like priceless artifacts. Which, in a way, they kind of were: each book well-loved, annotations in their creased pages, some of their spines cracked. If Inez is completely honest, she’s terrified to touch the battered copy of Little Women that Jo never seemed to put down when she had the time for it.

This copy of The Hobbit is fine though — and Jo sounded nearly scandalized by the fact that Inez never read it until now.

She’s really only a few pages in when she notices a figure in her peripheral vision, standing in front of her, and she looks up again.

“You’re upright,” Inez greets, “Did I take your seat? I can mo—”

“No, no, s’fine,” Hambone waves a hand dismissively.

She heard about the stomach flu that was creeping around base, taking out crewmen like a silent killer, Howard Hamilton being one of them. But he looks pretty okay right now, looking down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Not that she’d be able to read it in any meaningful way, she didn’t know him all that well to begin with. Just that he knew all the right buttons to push to make June mad (which wasn’t hard) and that he was from Kansas.

He takes a seat in the other wicker chair, the two of them separated by the small coffee table between them. She’s used to him being loud, so this, too, is unexpected. Maybe it’s because he’s shaking off that stomach flu, and the absence of Murphy or Douglass here to spur him into causing some type of trouble has him quiet. She can’t really tell if he’s subdued by the last remnants of the flu or if this is how he always is when not surrounded by those he’s wholly comfortable with.

“You always wear those?” He’s still holding her stare, but in a way that’s… boyishly curious, and Inez has to remind herself that he’s really not that much older than Carrie. They’re so different though: the round face and big green eyes of her friend are the direct opposite of Hambone’s gangly limbs and the sharp angles of his face, making him look older than he really is. Never mind the slivers of gold in his teeth that seem to glint everytime he talks. Inez comes to the quick and tentative conclusion that maybe there’s just a few things about Hambone that didn’t make sense — at least, not to her.

But his question has her immediately far more aware of the barely-there weight on the bridge of her nose, and presses her lips into a line, bracing herself in a way for the inevitable teasing at her expense as she shakes her head.

“Only when I need ‘em. For uh… small text,” she offers, feeling small.

People could be cruel over the tiniest of things. An accent that didn’t “sound smart” or thin-wire frames; the most miniscule of things could lead to doubting her intelligence, her abilities, and she hated that. Yeah, yeah, a navigator who can’t see her maps, laugh it up.

The jeering doesn’t come: instead he smiles a little, and she’s not really used to this expression on his face. It’s softer, with a little bit of a nod and a small shrug from him. She’s used to his dastardly grin, his pointed canines, sharp-edged humor travelling over the din of a busy pub.

“Would take that over the airsickness.” Hambone points out and Inez can’t help the small laugh that escapes, hiding it a bit behind the pages.

“You might have a point,” Inez assents, and they hold each other’s stare for a moment longer before Hambone’s slumping a little more in the chair, and Inez’s attention is reverted back to her book.

The silence there is significantly less awkward than she’d initially anticipated. Every now and again she’ll see him look over at her from the corner of her eye — eventually Helen comes with two coffee mugs. Inez pretends not to notice the face he pulls on the first sip, but she can draw her conclusions on how often he actually drinks the stuff. But it’s… comfortable, in its own way. Unexpectedly so. There’s not much said between them, Inez resigned to her own quiet and Hambone, seemingly, content to sit in it between sips of coffee. She didn’t peg him as much of a people watcher, but that seems to be what he’s doing while his idle hands mess with what looks to be a piece of string.

She finds herself getting lost in the pages and understanding why Jo was so scandalized at the fact that she hadn’t read this one yet. She isn’t really sure just how much time actually passes. When Inez looks up once more, Hambone has effectively dozed off — long legs outstretched in front of him, arms folded over his chest. Sleep relaxes his features further and now he starts looking his age. Inez smiles to herself, endeared a bit at the sight.

Unexpected. It’s a fair way to describe Howard Hamilton and the space he is at present taking up. But somehow the silence, and him, both just... fit, with the way she planned to spent her evening. So even when he wakes after fifteen, twenty minutes, Inez doesn’t rush off, more than happy to keep him in her company if that’s what he seems content to do.

[bcolfanfic]

btw if you guys were wondering what hambone is up to in young vets au it’s this

[therealslimshakespeare]

Y’all, what about an AU where Brady is Hambone’s parol officer…

…one where Brady needs Egan to post bail for him by the end of it

[itstheheebiejeebies]

Howard "Hambone" Hamilton Icons

free to use, credit appreciated but not necessary. if you have a request or want to be tagged for any of my edits send me an ask. don’t repost, reblogs appreciated. all of my edits can be found here

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[saturnwisteria]

Y'all ever have those dreams where someone you thought of completely platonically is suddenly placed in a romantic or sexual light and then when you wake up its like. Oh no. I am viewing this person differently now based upon situations that have never occurred. Anyway what if I told you this happened to me w hambone

[major-john-bucky-egan]

I have watched Part 1 at least 10 times and I never fail to giggle and kick my feet when Hambone jokes to Croz about his airsickness and gives us the cutest "hehe" laughing at himself. 🥰

and then Croz promptly gets puke all over him 🤮

[darkimpala1897]

Buck and Bucky wedding would be pure chaos I'm just saying.

Bucky would walk down the aisle to 20th Century Fox Fanfare, because he's Bucky.

Hambone, and Douglass would do drunk karaoke.

Brady would be the one crying the entire time and I mean the entire time.

Blakely would be trying to sleep with the groomsmen.

DeMarco snuck Meatball in, who ate everything.

Rosie would have the best speech ever.

Crosby would have a drunk speech.

Bubbles would embarrassingly dance around, making everyone question who invited him.

Curt would be spilling all the embarrassing stories, he definitely knocked down either the wedding cake or ice sculpture or both well screaming "I'm Irish" at the top of his lungs.

Dickie is trying to clean up Curts mess.

Quinn lost BabyFace, and Bailey within five seconds somehow.

Winks and Ken are just filming the entire thing.

Kidd and Harding are just old man dancing together.

Helen is wondering why she came.

Sandra and Marge are also questioning why the fuck they came.

Murphy and Fredkin are literally the most chill ones, but Murphy eventually gets so drunk that he starts taking off his clothes.

Smokey is making sure nobody gives themselves alcohol poisoning, he ends up herding everyone home like drunk cattle.

Stormy is just embarrassed to know these people.

Daniels, Jefferson, and Macon were dragged to this shingdig by DeMarco who said "It'd be fun." And fun was one way to describe it.

[thatsrightice]

Crosby totally packs all of the lunches for his crew (and Bubbles, always Bubbles) when he flies missions. He gets their preferred choice of ration, all of their favorite flight-approved snacks, and he even manages to acquire some extra chocolate bars, all of which were carefully packaged inside a brown paper bag with their name on it in that delicate handwriting of his.

When Crosby gets transferred to Blakely’s crew, Douglass doesn’t stop bragging about it and shoving it in Ham’s face for weeks. Of course then Crosby felt bad when he saw how Ham was actually disappointed whenever the special lunches were brought up, so he started to secretly leave one by Ham’s flight gear before every flight.