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#meatball the husky
kylaym · 24 days
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I have received inquiries about whether my MoTA keychains/postcards are for sale. So recently, I organised all the items I have and put together this list! There is only a limited stock available (what you see in the pictures is all I have).
Shipping costs are not included. Feel free to DM me for more details!!
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sweaterkittensahoy · 2 months
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Imagine it's deep summer in Alabama. And Macon's out watering the vegetable patch, and Meatball comes out and just collapses under the tree next to the patch, and Macon just hoses him down for a few seconds, then goes back to the vegetables.
And then Demarco comes out and collapses next to Meatball, and Macon just casually hoses him off too, and goes back to the vegetables.
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Dying over all this lovely Lu and Benny content 🥹 Can I request more of your thoughts on her and Benny and Meatball and her overcoming her trauma related to dogs
Why of course!
The initial stages of her recovery from some of the dog related ptsd is still in the weeds and I’m working on timeline for it. For instance- she’s not going to utterly collapse on sight of Meatball on coming back but she’s most assuredly no longer wanting to pet and dance with and be slobbered over by the sweet doggie. Tepid greeting and at a distance while Buck makes jerky hand motions to signal no one let him off his leash.
Don’t make me draw a comparison to Lu withdrawing from the Mascot of the 100th to Lu withdrawing from the leadership of the 100th and her ties to the Group….
But Meatball later on. First time she and Benny meet for work on her legal papers, deeds, etc, Oil Stuff shall we call it, it’s at his house because they argued over who liked to road trip better and she won and drove up to see him. And as we saw in that tiny blurb, this man is effortlessly ahead of the curve. Whistles for his fur baby to go inside right off that bat without even asking Lu if she needs it.
When he invited her inside later, I imagine he stalls at his entryway and says quite neutrally, “if ya wanna wait here I’ll put him in the backyard.” and Lu just shakes her head, swears she doesn’t mind, that it’ll be nice to see him.
Seeing him is about all she manages for awhile and yet it’s good to see the sweet boy and his sweet owner and the way they’re still so tied and it’s gentling of other associations even if they stay on opposite sides of a room.
When Benny comes to see her he leaves meatball with his mama. Bad choice, Lu soon learns that dog is half service animal with the way Benny can’t manage to sleep or keep track of time without the nudge of a wet snout of the heat of a furry body. Benny would rather die that admit he hasn’t slept in three days due to meatball not being there but, hey.
Eventually I think Lu comes to trust Meatball’s intuition on Benny. She knows when Benny is just having a quiet moment verses fully disassociating by Meatball’s concerns attitude alone, in the early days. When he’s not in an expected area she can count on Meatball to help her find him, and eventually, they’re buds. Intelligent detectives who both love Benny Demarco and want him to sleep.
She eventually is able to pet and enjoy his attentions. Even allows him in bed a few times because Benny is a softy about that. However, she doesn’t even have to advocate for his removal because soon Meatball’s presence in bed cramps Benny’s morning sex mojo and out the dear doggie goes. At least to the foot of the bed.
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sansaorgana · 7 months
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omg I literally came across your work today and it was so awesome!!!! I was wondering if you’d be comfortable writing a more dominant buck cleven with his young wife and then another one which is buck cleven meeting a young girl and their love story with the the war timeline super cute fluff.
Of course it us up to you if you want to do it. But i just wanted to say how mych i love your work and i look forward to seeing more!! ❤️😊❤️😊❤️😊
hey, love! 💐 so, I googled Buck's age and apparently he was quite young during the war. because of Austin, I thought that he was like in his 30s. but apparently he was born in 1918, so he was only like 25 in 1943. and I'm not very comfy with writing readers who are "barely legal" in age gap relationships, so I didn't focus much on reader's age here. I mean, even if she's his age, then she's still a young girl 😂
this fic takes place after the war and they are married. Buck works at some military base idk it's not really mentioned nor important lol. he's rougher here than in the previous one but not very rough either because I think he's overall a softie for his girl 🤭 Buck and reader are in a traditional marriage 🥧
when it comes to the second idea with the war timeline, it's like a multichapter fic idea and I am not in the right headspace to write something so long at the moment. I am sorry, boo 🥺
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
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Being married to Buck Cleven was a dream come true and you just wanted to make everything right. You would wake up an hour before him to put your make up on, get dressed in a cute dress and an apron, to take out the curlers out of your hair. And to prepare him a warm breakfast that would be ready when he is awake. You were helping Buck to get ready for work and then you would go grocery shopping. Then you would clean the house and cook dinner. In the meantime the dog your husband had brought from the war – Meatball – required some of your attention as well. He had to be fed and wanted to go out on a long walk once a day. He was a Husky so running around the garden was not enough for him.
It wasn't as easy to be a housewife as some women pictured it. It wasn't as peaceful and calm and relaxing. But it was worth everything. Your husband's smile and kisses on the cheek. You just wanted to make him happy. It was like you were infected with the affection because making him happy was everything that mattered. You never wanted him to complain or start looking for fun outside the house. You wanted to be his everything as much as he was yours.
And today you decided to bake him a pie. It was Friday and he had a long and stressful week. You wanted to make him a sweet and sour cherry pie to show him how much you loved and appreciated him. But everything seemed to go wrong with it. You were slow on that day and your first try was a disaster. You had to throw it away and start all over again, angry at yourself. Your cheeks and nose were stained with flour and your hands were red from the cherries' juice. You were so frustrated, you didn't notice what time it had already been.
You were so focused on kneading the dough that you didn't hear the sound of the car parking outside. Perhaps you did but you thought it was the neighbor. There was no reason why your husband would be home so early, right?
It wasn't early at all, though. It was exactly the same time when Buck would come back home every day. And he was surprised not to see you standing behind the window and waiting for him with a soft smile. It made him worry a little.
And then he walked inside the house and didn't see you in the corridor to take his jacket and give him a kiss. That was more than unusual indeed. He looked around and sighed before taking the jacket off on his own and hanging it on the wall. It didn't feel the same without your soft fingers helping him and your sweet lips asking him about his day. He missed your eyes sparkling at the sight of him, your loving smile, your lovely scent. Your warm lips on his cheek, staining it slightly with a cherry red lipstick. God, he was crazy about you.
"Baby?" he asked in a soft voice. The very first place he checked was the kitchen and there you were, working passionately on something on the counter in front of you. He was facing your back so he had no idea what it could be. "Baby?" he asked once again and you jumped a little at the sound.
Your heart pounded in your chest. You got scared by your husband's voice but you also were scared that he was back so soon. You took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and swallowed thickly. Yes, it made perfect sense that he was home already. And you didn't have the pie ready yet.
Hell, you didn't even have the dinner ready at all!
"Oh, Buck!" you sobbed and turned around. He furrowed his brows at that sudden outburst and your face stained with flour. Then he noticed your red hands.
"Is everything alright, sweetheart?" he hurried to your side and grabbed your wrists. "What's going on? Is that blood?"
"Hm? What? No, no," you sniffed. "It's cherries," you explained and he sighed with relief. "I wanted to make you a cherry pie. But I'm slow today and I ruined the first one. I wanted to make it again, I lost the track of time… I didn't prepare dinner either… Oh goodness, I am the worst wife ever. You must regret marrying me. I'm so sorry," you sobbed again and looked down, avoiding his gaze.
Buck was left speechless at this little scene. He had no idea you felt this way.
"What are you talking about, doll?" he asked carefully and tried to wipe the flour away from your cheeks but he only smudged it in the process. You looked adorable like that to him, though. He only wished you didn't cry. It was making him feel physical pain deep in his chest to see you sad like this. You were his girl and his job was to make you happy. "You're the best wife I could ever wish for. Every day I ask myself how the hell did I get so lucky."
"R-really?" you bit on your lower lip and looked up at him with wet eyes. "I'm a mess."
"We all make a mess sometimes," Buck shushed you and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips. "And no one makes a prettier mess than you do, darling," he added with a smirk.
In one swift motion he lifted you up and turned around to sit you up on the empty counter. You were surprised that he rewarded your failure with a kiss but you couldn't complain. You crossed your legs behind him and put your fingers in his golden hair. You let out a sweet moan into his mouth and felt your cheeks heating up.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, ashamed of yourself. You didn't want your husband to think you were dirty or easy like any harlot.
"Oh God, what are you sorry for?" Buck seemed to be excited, though. He leaned in even closer and placed another kiss upon your lips, more heated this time. His hair was a mess now from all your tugging, his locks were falling on his forehead and tickling your face. "You have absolutely no idea how crazy you make me, baby," he whispered between one passionte kiss and another.
His big hands dropped from your waist to tug on the hems of your dress and apron. He lifted them up as much as he could as his fingers started to roam all over your stockings and the naked skin of your thighs where the straps of your stockings were. You wanted him to touch you between your legs so badly but you didn't want to say it out loud.
"You have to ask for it, baby," he teased, knowing your desires perfectly well, and you could feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment. "Be a good girl and ask for it, come on," he encouraged you.
"P-please…" you breathed out but he wasn't satisfied.
"Please? You're asking for something. Tell me what it is," he mocked you as his fingertips circled upon the hot, naked skin of your inner thigh.
"I want you to touch me."
"I am touching you, darling," he smirked and you bit on your lower lip. Why did he want you to say this out loud? Wives shouldn't say such things.
"I want you to touch me between my legs," you whispered, almost inaudibly.
"Louder," Buck commanded. He gave you a very intense and serious look that scared you a little but it also motivated you to obey him.
"Touch me between my legs. I need you there," you dared to say out loud.
"Wasn't that difficult, was it, sweet baby?" he cooed to you and you gasped at the feeling of his fingers on your wet panties. He laughed softly. "So wet already?"
"I'm sorry."
"Stop saying you're sorry. What are you sorry for?" he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and made you look into his eyes. "The only thing you should be sorry about is how crazy you drive me."
You nodded, unsurely, and when he saw that you no longer fight him about it, he stopped squeezing your cheeks and put his long fingers inside your mouth instead. You were surprised at that but you quickly understood what he expected from you. You started to suck on them while staring intensly and lustfully into his bright blue eyes.
"God, you're a sight," he moaned and his fingers got inside your panties to rub on your heated center. Feeling his rough fingertips on your clit made a shiver run down your spine as you jumped a little on the counter. He chuckled and took his hand away. "Taste it," he removed his fingers from your mouth and placed his other hand in front of your mouth. You winced a little at the sight of how wet his fingers were, coated with your juices. "I want you to taste how sweet you are," he insisted and you opened your mouth unsurely. But the moment he put his fingers inside, you started to suck them clean. You wanted to obey your husband.
Buck's free hand focused on tearing your panties and leaving them in shreds on the floor. He had never done that before but you very much enjoyed how hungry he seemed to be for you.
"And?" he asked teasingly after removing his fingers from your mouth and wiping the drool from the corners of your mouth.
"Sweet," you agreed with him because he wouldn't accept any other answer anyway.
"Damn you are," he nodded before grabbing your hips again and pulling you closer to get better access to you. Your center was pressed to his crotch and you could feel that his trousers seemed to be too tight.
You let your hands wander to his belt to undo it while kissing him as your foreheads were pressed to each other's. The kisses were sloppy and nearly desperate as if you needed him more than air to breathe.
"Let me," Buck moved your hands away to work on his belt and you grabbed his arms instead to keep yourself steady and hold him close. Not long after you felt him between your legs, rubbing the tip on your wet and swollen clit. "Baby?" he asked to make sure.
"Go on," you nodded and dug your nails into the sleeves of his shirt at the feeling of him sliding inside. It made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"You're such a doll," he whispered before hiding his face in the crook of your neck to suck on your sensitive skin and make you moan. Usually you tried to be quiet but it seemed like he wanted to hear you because every time you tried to keep it on the low, he would suck and tease more with his tongue, making it impossible to stay quiet. Your sounds were like a symphony to him and he wanted you to finally realize that.
"Oh, Buck," you sighed as his hips started to thrust faster. You felt him so deep that your eyes filled with tears. It was a sweet mixture of pleasure and pain that you never wanted to stop. However, your body twitched slightly as if it tried to get away from the intense, overwhelming feeling.
"Stay still when I'm trying to put a baby in you, will ya?" Buck growled into your neck and it made you feel dizzy. Your fingers dug even deeper as your back arched to feel him at a different angle. It soon became too much to handle and you felt the knot forming in your stomach. Having Buck's baby would only make you happier and even more fulfilled as his wife. It would be a dream come true to carry his son or daughter and let everyone know you were his wife. You wanted it more than anything else.
You came with a loud moan while tugging on Buck's hair. You squeezed him so tight that he came shortly after. His hips thrusted chaotically and you felt him biting your neck to muffle his own moan as your womb filled with his warm seed. You loved that feeling. It was making you feel like you were his more than anything else.
Now when the heated moment was over, you felt a bit awkward with what had just happened. You were the first one to move away carefully and fixed your hair. Buck watched you while breathing heavily with his hair ruffled and forehead covered with sweat. He put his trousers back on and worked on his belt as you tried to jump off the counter but you almost fell down in the process because your legs shaked so much. Buck caught you swiftly.
"Be careful, baby," he pulled you close to hug you and placed a kiss on your forehead.
"I need to make dinner," you explained.
"No, you don't," he shook his head. "Get dressed and we'll go to town."
"Really? I don't have to cook?" you asked, surprised.
"No. And, in fact, I think we should be going out to eat every Friday. I don't want you to spend every day in the kitchen, sweetheart," Buck rubbed your back.
"But… But I'm your wife," you tried to protest.
"Exactly," he nodded and lifted your chin up, "and I'm your husband and it's my goddamn job to look after you. And the baby," he winked.
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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alienoresimagines · 3 days
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Buck: If you had to separate your dog from 49 other identical appearing dogs, that were all equally excited to see you, how would you discover which dog was Meatball? Benny: I would take my 50 huskies home and live like a king.
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HOME IS YOUR HEART - Clegan (Barbed Wire Hearts AU Series) Fic
@swifty-fox @moghraidhs @trashbag-baby666
I couldn't help myself, my cowboys were begging to be written again despite me having a raging ear infection and a high temp but FUCK IT, NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER (pun intended). Enjoy!!
When Gale steps down from the fold out step of his trailer, breathing in the distinct smell of the pitfire curling through the air, taking in the sound of his little band of ragtag cowboys chatting and laughing together from their various positions seated around it, he can't stop the warm and comforting feeling of home that settles deep in the recesses of his chest.
He can't stop that feeling from curling its way into every little nook and empty space of his body, filling in the cracks like honey, warming spaces that he never knew were sitting dormant and cold behind everything else. An unmistakable sense of belonging whispering into his soul, something that he hadn't felt since he was a boy, young and green roping practice dummys in his father's arena back home in Wyoming, his mother leaned up against the fence with the smile she had passed on to him in a carbon copy beaming wide and blinding white.
It was a feeling that slowly melted away the older he got. When his mother's presence disappeared from the inside of the Cleven family ranch home, her usual perch on the arena fence left empty and tainted with a grieving loss. Her boots that sat by the front door amongst the others leaving a space that he could never fill, allowing the empty cracks to start reaching further and further as time went on. Pulled apart with every harsh word from his father's mouth, every disappointed shake of his head, every hit that left an ugly burning fire both on his skin from a cruel open palm and burrowing deeper and deeper into his soul in the wake of it all.
But looking at where he was now, situated amongst some of the best men he had ever had the pleasure of calling friends, partners, a team, that warmth was slowly starting to trickle back in. It was in the way that Crosby was smiling sat over on the wheel-arch of his trailer, Bubbles close next to him, an arm draped over his shoulder and smiling up drunkenly at Douglas and Everett as they recalled some story with exuberant smiles and arm gestures.
It was in the way Brady was kneeling down on one knee near the open tack box, showing Hambone how to properly strap his boots tight around his calf with flat leathers for the next bull-ride. The other man's scarred face intent and interested and asking questions like a schoolboy in the presence of a scholar, beer bottle balanced precariously between loose fingers.
Jack sat in one of the camper chairs closer to the fire, pointing out somewhere in the distance with a concentrated frown and trying to explain something to Benny while the other man frowned out in the same direction with his left hand hanging down from his own chair to absentmindedly scruff his fingers through his husky, Meatball's, fur, the dog laying sleepily at his side enjoying the ministrations.
It was in the giddy love-struck smile of Curt, holding the new paramedic, Kenny, on his knee, a sweet boy who had only recently been brought into the fold. One of Curt's arms draped loosely around his waist and murmuring hushed words close to the other boy's neck, the younger's face turned slightly to him with a mirroring grin soft and fond on his lips. A hearty laugh only a moment later, head thrown back and Curt's smile growing that much more that you could spot it from miles away, even without binoculars.
Gale felt his own lips curve into a fond smile at the two, eyes leaving them to scan over the top of the fire's flickering warmth. Feeling his own chest compliment the reaching warmth as it crescendoed into its own fire-like sensation when he spotted John, sat comfortably and lazily in his own camping chair, doing what Gale was and observing the men around him with his own soft grin. His hat was tipped down low against his brow, half hiding the bright blue of his eyes, knees spread in content, sinking lower into the cushioned seat as he took a sip of the beer bottle in his hand.
Like he could feel Gale's eyes on him, those stormy blue irises lifted and zeroed in on him with laser focus over the sparks of the fire, softening with affection, grin turning into a wide smile, teeth glinting at him in the glow.
Gale couldn't help the way his heart thundered like a wild horse being corralled at being the cause of that smile, neither could he stop the flush he felt colour his cheeks into what he knew was a faint red that he hoped could be explained away by the fire's heat. Could feel his own teeth bare helplessly into his own giddy smile as he tilted his head down in a shy gesture as he stepped away from the door of his trailer and make his way around the pit in John's direction.
When he made it over to him, standing in front of him and situated slightly in between those open knees, fire at his back, John's smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Directed solely at him, because of him. Eyes staring up at him and taking in every inch of him with a casual ease.
Those open knees turned in to knock lightly against his own, expression full of mirth and adoration. Gale couldn't help the way his heart skipped at the fact that it was directed at him. Had never had anyone look at him in that way during his entire life. Not even his first and only girlfriend way back when he was a still an awkward and lanky 16 year old boy, being the affection of some pretty blond barrel racer from Tennessee that had pursued him for months and delighted in the fact she was eventually dating the son of the great team roping champion Joseph Cleven.
It didn't last long. It was short and sweet and Gale never really could understand why even when she broke up with him during the middle of a rodeo and he saw her not even an hour later making out with some amateur steer wrestler behind the stables, that he didn't really feel all that broken up about it. Couldn't find it in himself to care that someone who he had shared his first kiss and first fumbled handjob with in the back of the Cleven family trailer, had dumped him without so much as a glance backwards. Her perfect blond hair underneath a jewelled white hat bouncing as she sauntered away.
Wasn't until he started noticing the strong shoulders of some of the other ropers, the cocky stubbled smiles of the bullriders and the curve of the asses of the steer wrestlers in perfect fitting Wrangler jeans that he kind of started to understand.
Growing up in the rodeo world, though, where 95% of the families and competitors were heavily influenced by the bigoted views of Christianity and religion, he couldn't afford to let his eyes or his heart linger on his new-found preferences in any way. Not if he didn't want to have his face caved in in some shadowed corner of one of the many rodeo grounds or arenas and left like a bag of trash with a slur branded onto his skin with a hot iron.
So he'd put his head down and focused solely on his craft, solely on the feel of his name being broadcast over the speakers in triumph and the feel of wrapping the rope of his lasso tight over the horn of his saddle and carrying on the merit of the Cleven family name. He'd never let his eyes wander again, never wondered what it would be like to just give in and let himself toy with the idea of being someone's whole world, of being someone's object of affection and heart and the recipient of a gentle and adoring or lustful touch.
His father's words of a relationship being nothing but a worthless distraction in the face of what he could (and should) be accomplishing. Bringing home another buckle to add to the display case in the living room was more important than bringing home a girl on his elbow, all saccharine smiles and promises of a late spring wedding and 2.5 kids running around the ranch in a few years time.
Didn't have the heart to even retort to his father's words that it wasn't girls that he had to worry about Gale bringing home or looking at.
Until John Egan. That damn cocky louder-than-life and brash down to the bone bullrider that all but sauntered his way into the chutes and Gale's life quicker than if he were to sit on Baby's back and have her galloping full pelt through the flats of the wide open fields back home.
Said bullrider knocked one of his knees back against Gale's once again, pulling him back to the present and back to that blinding smile that had softened into something a little more concerned but no less adoring at Gale's silence. Had no doubt his eyes had gone glazed and unfocused amongst the tirade of his mind for a few moments.
"You doing okay there, cowboy?" John said gently, the hand not holding a beer bottle reaching forward and taking hold of his thigh over his jeans, squeezing tenderly in a comforting caress.
Gale swallowed thickly, collecting what little composure he had let slip back firmly against his chest. Tilted an easy smile down at John, eyes flickering over the brunette's face, the warm orange glow of the fire at his back only highlighting the other's sparse barely-there freckles trailing across his nose and over his cheeks. Felt that tidal wave of emotion and affection melt back into him, right where it should be.
"Sure am," Gale murmured lowly, reaching a hand down to cover Bucky's where it was still sat grounding over his thigh. "Was just thinkin', is all."
John hummed in question, hand starting to run absentmindedly up and down as he watched Gale's face with curious eyes. "What about?"
Gale watched him right back, a gentle sigh slipping past his lips against his control, and couldn't stop that wave from breaking over the borders and spilling over into a heedy molasses-slow overload that had his heart lighting up into more than just a fire, into something that more resembled the sun.
He watched John for a few more moments, those questioning blue eyes still searching and waiting on Buck's every word like a dog sitting at his feet and awaiting a command in the hopes of a reward.
"How much you mean to me," Gale finally murmured, watching as something hopeful and bright and absolutely smitten crossed over John's face and came to life in his eyes, smile turning lazy and so self satisfied again that Gale wanted to hide away from the barrage of feelings it illicited inside him.
Went easily when that large hand on his thigh tugged gently until he had to twist himself slightly in his descent downwards, pulled onto John's lap and into the other's warmth. Felt strong thighs tense underneath him before he moved into a more natural and comfortable position, ass fitting into the curve of Bucky's hips and back resting against a broad shoulder. He felt the distinct sharp curve of a large Champion buckle in the denim near his tailbone, but pushed back the small discomfort in the face of feeling like he was falling through the clouds at a million miles an hour.
Bucky rested his hand against Gale's hip, fingers a welcome press near the tooled leather of his belt and rested his chin against Gale's shoulder. His grin was still as prominent as ever, but his eyes were soft and half lidded, too close to focus on Gale's face so instead focused on the skin of his neck, the curl of his blond hair slightly longer at the back.
"That's a lotta thinkin, for little ol' me," Bucky whispered, slightly rocking the both of them side to side. Buck could feel the gaze still focused on his neck like a burn, but one he would gladly walk into covered in gasoline.
He turned his head to the side slightly, side eyeing Bucky as much as their position would allow at this angle. "Way I see it, you're worth a lot more than just thinking about, John Egan."
He heard the click of Bucky's throat as the other swallowed thickly at his words, something vulnerable permeating the air between them, but no less sweet.
Bucky hesitates slightly, seemingly lost for words, repeating Gale's over and over in his head. Buck can see it like a billboard sign lit up above him.
Finally, a shaky exhale, breath ghosting over his neck in a whisper, just as ragged. "Yeah?"
Buck hums in reply, turning his head a little more so he can look at Bucky a bit easier. Still not completely, but enough so that John's face, the tirade of emotions flowing over his features is more in focus. More open to Gale's attention and words. Sees blue eyes flicker up to his in an almost timid display.
"Yeah," Gale repeats, feels his face heat up from more than just the fire as the words that have built inside his chest, pushing and prodding and ready to burst through and out into the air like the sun itself had rooted itself there and made a home. Home. "You've made your home in me John, and for the first time in my life, I wanna build those foundations with my damn bare hands. Wanna be there building it with you."
He sees the moment his words truly sink in to John, make the other man finally hold his gaze, vulnerability and awe in every inch of his expression, brows pulled together in a questioning ache.
"Gale.." Bucky chokes on his words, throat constricting on another harsh swallow, mouth parted like every single moment leading up to this has lodged against his windpipe.
"Won't be building it without you, Bucky."
John stares, transfixed, gaze trailing between Buck's eyes like he's trying to convince himself that everything he's experiencing is real. That he can reach out and touch it as easily as his hands are holding Buck now, beer bottle long forgotten in the grass. His fingers flex against Buck's hips, pressing in without thought.
"You sure?" he whispers, broken and trembling like a kid trying to talk to his first teenage crush, fumbled and nervous and not sure if any of it is real. A broken man, stranded in the desert, being offered his first glimpse of salvation.
Buck can't help the soft smile that makes its way onto his face, turning that bit more, leaning forward slowly until the tip of his nose brushes Bucky's, soft and gentle. Feels the shaky exhale from Bucky's lips straight against his own.
"Wild horses couldn't drag me away," Buck murmurs, low and strong, leaving not even an inch of doubt anywhere. Mirrors the words he said to Curt all those weeks ago when he'd returned from the hospital, weak and shaky like a newborn colt.
Within a single blink, he feels the way Bucky's fingers tighten even further against him, a quick surge of mere millimetres to press his lips insistently to Gale's like that broken stranded man, salvation coming to him in the physical golden form that was Gale Cleven and every prayer he'd ever uttered being answered all at once.
Gale's hand flies up to cup his jaw, sinking further into John's body and the comfort that envelopes him in one big wave as that sunshine in his chest finally bursts from the dam it had self constructed, all those years of being hidden away like a shameful, evil thing. Cast away and never to be brought to light.
Bucky kisses him and pulls him into the light, now. He's frantic, and wild, and untamed, and Gale grips his jacket with the other hand that's not against John's jaw, feeling the sparks that spring forth from the feeling of Bucky's lips sliding against his. Tongue gentle and asking permission despite the wild energy, and Gale grants him it without hesitation, opening up to him like he's now become the starved one.
Buck's thoughts are molasses, slow and thick but still galloping at a million miles an hour and sweet like the taste of John, the careful slip of their tongues fighting a damned war, teeth occasionally knocking and lips becoming the victim amongst it, tenderly bitten against panting breath.
It isn't until that breath starts burning, screaming for air, a familiar sensation akin to their first kiss, that both have to pull away, but only my mere increments. Foreheads still pressed together, Bucky's hat long since pushed off and tumbled to the grass to join the beer bottle at their feet, noses bumping.
Gale can feel Bucky's lips touch his with every harsh panting inhale with how close they still are, and Buck thinks that he could stay here forever. Meld himself to every part of John so he never had to let him go, never had to feel the warmth of his body leave him.
His fingers twitch against Bucky's jaw at the onslaught of emotion still coursing through him, and its not until he manages to peel his eyes back open, the lids feeling heavy and weighted, that he locks eyes with Bucky's own. Everything is unfocused and slightly difficult to see being this close, and he has no doubt he's nearly going cross-eyed with the proximity, but Bucky's eyes are like staring into blue fire. Flames hotter than the one only mere metres from them.
Bucky huffs out a breathless laugh against his lips, and Gale can't stop the blinding smile that threatens to split his face in two if it got any wider.
"You've done it now," John pants, smile mirroring Gale's in a perfect sycnronization. "You're stuck with me, cowboy."
Neither men barely move when Bucky's words cause a chain reaction, Curt's enthused whistle cutting through the silence like a bullet that in turn caused a cacophony of whoops and hollers and whistles to erupt from everyone around them. They had almost forgotten that they weren't alone, were subject to an audience of people that they had all but become family with.
Buck's heart once again burst, the last of those empty cracks that had sat so empty and agonised finally filling in and setting like cement so that he felt completely and utterly whole. Everything slotted into place and it felt like the world had finally righted itself to make way for him.
He leaned forward, pressing his face in against Bucky's neck, cheeks flushed and warm and entire body rooted in place against the shining pillar that was John Egan.
The foundation finally set underneath him. Home.
He pretended not to hear Curt's over enthusiastic "All right, bitches, pay up! Money, in this hand, right here!"
Also pretended not to peer through half lidded eyes where he still had his face pressed to Bucky over to see half of the boys grumble and slap notes into Curt's outstretched palm as they walked past him, before handing the money to Ken, who took it with a smug face and started counting.
Bucky's laugh rumbling against Buck's body and jostling him had him turning his face back and grinning against his throat, pressing a soft kiss to the tender skin.
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blakelysco-pilot · 4 months
Text
The Way I Am
Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Three
Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)
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The realities of war begin to dig their way under the skin of the men and women at Thorpe Abbotts, leaving some with more on their shoulders than they'd care to carry. New and existing friendships help to brighten a dark day, while Val and Everett admit truth's they can only say to each other. Featuring @winniemaywebber's Olive Lewis from the Honeysuckle Rose series.
Part Two Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist
Non-mision days were, naturally, a favorite of those who lived on Thorpe Abbotts airbase. A lot of the boys would still go up for practice missions, but it would leave a lot less what-if’s and nerves on the ground because the Luftwaffe was nowhere to be found, and the only thing they needed to worry about was taking off and landing safely. Those days, the Red Cross girls would still set up the Clubmobile for the boys, greeting them with coffee and donuts and a friendly smile as they trekked out to the hardstand. Today, almost all of the boys were going up on a practice run. They had already seen Brady and the  M’lle Zig Zig crew, Bucky and the crew of Mugwump, followed directly by Buck Cleven and Our Baby. Benny DeMarco had lingered at the truck, the pilot infatuated with the newest Red Cross girl, Olive. Olive had seemingly come out of nowhere, according to Tattie, but the girls had wasted no time at all in taking her in, despite her accent and dry British humor, she fit in like a missing puzzle piece amongst them. 
When Benny had asked if the girls would be willing to keep an eye on Meatball while they went up for practice, Olive was first out of the truck to greet the husky. Val suspected it was so that he didn’t actually go inside of the truck and make a mess of things like he somehow tended to do. When he got restless, Olive had offered to take him for a walk, and since it had been quiet, Val had ushered Helen off as well to keep Olive company. Tattie had taken the jeep to go pick up supplies for the truck on the other side of the base, which left Val alone. 
“You running the show alone today?”
Val looked up from where she was reading her copy of Screen Romances to find Ev and Douglass standing in front of the Clubmobile. Dougie’s hands on his hips, a wide smile stretching across his mouth. 
“Is my favorite Flyboy and his bombardier bringing up the rear today?” She smiled upon seeing them, her gaze immediately finding Everett’s from behind his aviators. 
“Just coffee if you can spare it, Val.” Douglass requested, politely declining the donut she had pointed to. 
“Oh, it’s okay for me to make you coffee again? I don’t need to go find Olive for you? She teased, already moving to pour him coffee from the carafe. Benny DeMarco wasn’t the only one who had taken a shine to Olive. 
“I saw her on my way over,” He shook his head, but the smile remained. “She was with Helen and Meatball.”
“DeMarco asked us to keep an eye on him while you boys went up today, so the two of them took him for a walk.”
Val reached through the hatch with his coffee, the handoff seamless as he accepted the coffee, the cup immediately coming up to his lips. 
“You’ve got the magic touch, Val.” He hummed, eyes closed in satisfaction. 
“I won't tell Olive you said that.” She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head as he gave her a half hearted salute and cheeky smile, before turning and heading towards the hardstands.  
Everett remained by the truck, flight gear and sheepskin jacket making him look every bit the pilot that she knew him to be. He was squinting up at her in the early morning sun, sunglasses now hanging from the pocket of his jacket. Even with his crush cap on, the sun was in his eyes. He looked like a little boy when he did that, and Val couldn’t help but find him utterly adorable. 
“Coffee for the road, handsome?” She grinned, holding a cup up, nodding her head towards the back of the truck where the doors were open. 
He smiled and moved around, meeting her at the back and stepping up on the first step, as she came to stand in front of him. 
“Hmm did you make it the way I like it?” 
“You mean, did I leave it black? Yes, Everett, I did.” 
“Someone woke up on the sassy side of the bed this morning.” He watched as she pulled her hand back, holding the coffee away from him. 
“This is going to cost you, Captain.”  She grinned. 
“Oh yeah? How much then, Miss Val?”
“Hmmm I’m thinking it’s at least worth a good morning kiss.” 
“Well, what kind of man would I be if I refused payment?” 
Stepping up one more step, he came as close as he could so she wouldn’t have to lean down, and gently, carefully, dropped a hand to her waist to steady her before planting his lips on hers. The kiss was quick, but not without feeling. The pair were very much aware that they were on working hours when he was flying and she was at the truck, so they tried not to get too carried away. But, still, he hated to go up if only for practice, without giving her a proper goodbye. 
“Payment accepted.” Val grinned as they parted, her hand falling to rest over his that remained on her waist, the other handing over his coffee before she spilled it. 
“Thank you,” His smile was wide as he took the cup from her hand, taking a sip and sighing as the liquid warmed him. “Perfect.”
“I don’t see how, there’s nothing in it!” She eyed his coffee skeptically. 
“I wasn’t talking about the coffee, sweetheart.”
“Oh, well, in that case I’m inclined to agree with you.”
He was about to reply when Douglass appeared around the back of the truck, head sticking out from behind where the doors were open, just over Everett’s shoulder. 
“Not that I’m not enjoying getting to drink my coffee but, we can’t get moving without the pilot, pal.”
“Dougie, you have the worst timing.” Ev sighed, shaking his head as Val laughed at the pair. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if they were the couple and she was just third wheeling. 
“Go on,” She urged him, stepping down from the truck to guide him towards where he needed to be. “You have to fly and I need to clean up here.”
“I’ll see you later, yea?” He dropped a quick kiss to her cheek just to see her smile again.
“Yes, either after you get back or at the club later with the girls. Now, be safe up there, okay?”
“You have my word.” He nodded. 
“You have mine, too!” Douglass joined in.
“Christ sake,” She shook her head. “Both of you get a move on, I don’t want to hear Harding bellowing about how I held you up.” 
At that, both boys turned, coffee in hand, and made their way to the hardstand to prep for their practice mission. 
Climbing back into the Clubmobile, she began to clean up what she could; covering the donuts with a towel, and wiping down the counter so that it was free of any spilled milk or sugar. Once she was satisfied, and knew Tattie would be too, she promptly parked herself back in front of her magazine to pick up where she left off. 
“Jeez, Val, don’t look so busy!”
Looking up she found Jack Kidd and Chick Harding, the taller of the men giving her his signature sarcastic scowl, which she was always happy to return. Ever since Bucky had been demoted from Air Exec, Jack seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face with most of the men. He had tried, once, to use it on her when he caught her and Ev saying goodbye at the truck, but Val had turned and given it back as good as she got. Jack had very quickly learned that while Tattie was in charge of the Red Cross girls, Val was the muscle, and if she was mad at you, heaven help the poor soul. Helen was starting to think Val and Jack just made faces at each other to see who could look meaner at this point, because it never lasted long before one of them broke and cracked a real smile.
“Wake up with a bug up your ass again, Jack?” She smirked, closing the magazine and leaning on her elbows out the hatch. 
“I’m here and not home so, yea.”
“Aww, well, loosen up and I’m sure you’ll feel better.”
Harding stood, amused, watching the two seemingly square off, before Val broke first, offering a genuine smile that Jack returned. At that, Chick stepped up to the hatch to get her attention. 
“Valencia…”
“Chicky…”
“Jesus,” he huffed around his cigar, smoke billowing around him at her use of his unauthorized nickname. “Don’t call me that.”
“Okay, whatever you say, Chicky.”
Behind him, Kidd snickered, but quickly covered it with a cough. 
“Valencia…” Harding warned. 
“Fine…” It was long and drawn out. “You boys want coffee? I’ve got a few donuts left too.”
“Please,” Harding spoke, the words muffled around his cigar. “Why are you out here by yourself?”
“Helen and Olive took Meatball for a walk, and Tattie should be back any minute now. She took the jeep for supplies.”
“That damn dog get near the donuts again?” Harding tried to lift the towel she had placed over them, eyeing up the treats. 
“No, he did not get near them.”
“Good, I’ll take one then.”
Shaking her head, she handed him his coffee and donut before she turned her attention to Jack. Before she could ask him what he wanted the sound of Tattie on the jeep filled the air. 
“You two playing nice?” Tattie looked between Jack and Val. 
“Yes, Tattie, don’t worry,” Kidd chuckled. “I know when I’m beat.”
Grinning, the brunette stepped off the jeep, the back loaded with supplies for the Clubmobile. 
“Give me a second Tat and I’ll come help ya!” Val called out to her. 
Nodding, Tattie grabbed the small box that had been resting on the front seat next to her and made her way into the Clubmobile, while Val finished up with the boys. 
“Jack? Coffee?”
“Sure, Val, thanks.”
“Remind me again…”
“Just black.”
Nodding with a smile, Val poured him a cup, leaving it black. Plucking a donut from the tray, she handed him both, waving him off when he tried to protest at the donut. 
“Go on, I can’t let them go to waste.”
“Appreciate it,” Kidd nodded. “You taking the rest out to the ground crew?”
“That’s the plan.” 
“Good, those boys are working hard.”
With that, Chick and Jack gave her a wave before walking off back towards the control tower, where she had assumed Red was waiting for them. Watching them go, she quickly exited the truck and made her way to the jeep to help Tattie unload the boxes she had picked up. Helen and Olive should have been back, but knowing they had Meatball, it might have been a small blessing that they could unload the jeep without the husky getting under their feet for a bit. 
“Red Cross sent more rations. Coffee and fixings to make more donuts for us,” Tattie groaned, lifting a box and walking it to the truck. “Looks like we’ve got enough sugar to get us through the next month or two at least.”
“That’ll keep the fellas happy.” She agreed. 
“Nicked a few sweets for us girls, too.” Tattie winked as she stopped by the truck. 
“Your last name does have its advantages.” Val laughed, giving the scarf tied around her head a quick fix. 
“Mhmm, and you wouldn’t have been able to sweet talk the supply officer into a few Hershey bars?”
Before Val could reply, the sound of an engine far too close to where it should have been sounded above them, followed by a crash. The sound of the Land Girls screaming, and flames igniting in the trees out by the perimeter of the base caught their attention immediately, their faces turning to panic. 
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” 
“Did you see what tail number it was?”
“No, I can’t see anything except smoke.”
“Get in the Jeep, come on.”
Tattie wasted no time jumping back behind the wheel, Val practically throwing herself into the seat beside her as they sped off to the hardstand. The fear was rising deep within her chest the closer they got, and she had to will herself to believe that Everett and his crew were not the ones ignited in flames somewhere in the trees. As if someone had their hand around her throat with no intention of letting up, she drew in ragged and uneven breaths. 
“Val… deep breath doll, come on…” Tattie’s voice sounded far away, like she was underwater and couldn’t break through the surface. 
“You girls shouldn’t be out here!” Ken Lemmons yelled as soon as Tattie parked the jeep by the Ground Crew. 
“Kenny…” Val turned to him with wide eyes, and the nineteen year old had never seen someone he considered a spitfire, look so terrified. 
“It’s Baynard and his crew.” He sighed, knowing her question before she had even asked it. 
“Jesus…” The relief she felt melded with the sadness that slammed into her as she remembered handing Baynard and his Navigator their coffee that morning. He was one of the newer kids- anyone younger than her was a kid in her eyes- and hadn’t even flown a first mission yet. 
“Took a turn too early and went into a dive, couldn’t pull himself out of it.”
“He was just a kid…” Val shook her head, trying to understand just how the world could be so cruel. 
Tattie’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, and when Val turned to look at her friend, she noticed that she looked just as upset as she felt. The boys liked to joke that the girls could be the last pretty face they ever saw, and the reality of it seemed to hit the pair on them with the force of a thousand B-17’s. 
“Tattie, let’s uh, let’s get back to the truck and let the boys uhm…”
“Yea, yea alright.” She put the jeep back into gear, and the two women sped off back towards the Clubmobile. 
When they returned, the boxes they hadn’t finished unloading remained on the grass, Helen and Olive standing amongst them with Meatball eagerly sniffing at them. 
“What the hell happened out there!” Olive yelled over the engine of the jeep. 
“Baynard, he uh… him and his crew they…”
“Fuck sake! That was them?”
“Yea, it was them.” Val stepped out of the jeep with a sigh, immediately letting it support her body weight. 
“We just saw them this morning…” Helen sighed, body slumped back against the Clubmobile. 
Val could only nod, the fear that had her in a chokehold slowly beginning to subside. To think it could have been Everett, or Curt, had made her blood run cold. The idea of losing either of them was a reality she prayed to god she never had to face. 
“Val? You alright?” Helen was suddenly in front of her, Val’s hand in her own, the woman trying to meet her eyes. 
“Yea… just, scared shitless if I’m being honest.”
“Oh honey, I know…”
“Could have been either of them, Helen. And I’m not keen on being alone.”
“Oh chicken, you’ll never be alone. You’ve got us.” Olive joined them, taking Val’s other hand in her own, a soft smile on her face. 
“I need to get used to being called chicken as a term of endearment.” Val laughed, dropping her head to Olive’s shoulder. 
“There we go,” Olive grinned. “Feeling better?”
Nodding, Val pushed off from the jeep, moving to help with the rest of the boxes so that they could close up the truck and head off to the mess for lunch. 
“Meatball! No!!” 
The three girls looked over to where Tattie was standing, hands on her hips, as Meatball ripped into one of the boxes with his teeth. 
“I’m going to kill DeMarco…” she sighed. 
——————————————————————————————————
Exiting the Red Cross hut, Val and Olive were surprised to see Curt waiting outside for them. The pilot was dressed sharp, grinning from ear to ear as the girls spotted him. 
“Can I walk ya to the club, Val?”
“You can; I’m hard pressed to ask what you want, Curt.”
“Honest to God, just wanna walk ya.”
“Curt?”
“Helen told me you were a bit rattled after today, and I just wanted to make sure you’re alright…”
Val stopped walking, turning to face Curt with a soft smile. 
“Olive, I’ll catch up.”
“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll save your seat.”
“Thanks.” Val turned to her friend, watching as she walked across to the club, immediately intercepted by Benny who had been waiting outside with Meatball. 
Turning back to Curt, she saw him fidgeting with his sleeves before finding her gaze again. 
“Curt, I’m alright. Honest…”
“Nah, I know you’re alright but, I wanted to just, double check, ya know?”
“Curt, are you alright?” His fidgeting was so unlike him that it had her worried. 
“Oh sure, yea I’m just fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I gotta be alright for my crew, ya know? And for you and my Ma back home.  But, sometimes, it all just feels… well, I feel it.”
“Well, it’s okay to feel it. You can admit that to me, Curt. I wouldn’t think anything less of you.”
“You’d better not, you’re my best friend.”
“Curt…” She sighed. This was usually when she’d begin to get exasperated with him. As usual.
“B’Sides… if anything happens-“
“Curt…”
“If anything happens, you gotta write to my Ma, alright?”
“Curt, how can you ask me to do that?” She whispered. 
“No one knows me better than you, Val. It’s gotta be you, alright?”
“How can you put that on me, huh?”
“Just promise, would ya, ya stubborn woman!” He threw his hands up at her. “I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon, for fuck sake.”
“Fine! I promise, okay?” 
“Thank you,” He grinned, but she could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now come on, I think we both need a drink.”
“After what you just asked me, I need more than one.” She groaned, allowing him to toss his arm over her shoulder and guide them both to the club. 
“Well I’m only buying ya one,” He looked up with a smirk. “You got Blakely now, he can buy you the second one.”
“You’re unbelievable.” 
“Nah, I’m very believable.” 
Pulling the door open, he walked Val to the table where the girls were already sitting, promising to be back with her drink. It left her shaking her head as she sat, baffled still at the conversation they’d had outside, and how he had turned on a dime from sarcastic Curt, to a scared boy right in front of her.
Turning to the girls, she noticed that Olive wasn’t with them, and knowing Benny had caught her on her way in, she wondered if him and Douglass were already vying for her attention. 
“Where’s Olive? With Benny or Dougie?”
“Ladies room.”
“Okay so which one is probably waiting outside the door for her?” Val chuckled, trying to bring herself back. 
“Dougie.” They replied in unison, laughing at the image of him hanging out outside the ladies bathroom. 
Helen gestured behind her, and before she could ask her what she was looking at, the one voice she had been yearning to hear all day since that crash, had finally eased the anxiety gnawing at her from the inside out. 
“I was starting to wonder where you were.” 
“Ev…” His name came on a breath, and she turned in her seat to see him standing behind her, dapper as ever. 
“I didn’t see you come in with the girls,” He rounded the table and perched himself against the arm of the chair next to her, casually bringing his drink to his lips. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, everything’s fine. Curt caught me as I was leaving the hut with Olive and wanted to talk.”
He nodded, slipping into the seat next to her with ease, his arm coming to rest around the back of her chair. His fingers gently moved over her shoulder, causing her to shiver and slide just a bit closer to him. 
“You okay sweetheart?” 
Shaking her head as if he had to ask why she had moved closer, she was about to give him the what for, when the other man in her life suddenly reappeared. 
“Course she’s okay! She’s got a drink now!”
He carefully slid a martini glass in front of her, and she couldn’t help but notice it was missing some off the top. 
“Thank you, Curt. And would you look at that, he taste tested it for me too.”
“What a guy, I know I am!” Curt beamed, not even caring that she had caught him. 
“You didn’t bring one for the rest of us, Biddick?” Tattie baited him, knowing it would get a rise out of the pilot and take the heat off Val. 
“My mistake, Tattie. What are you and Helen drinking this evening?”
“Rum and cola,” She replied, bringing a cigarette to her lips. “And they’re not to be taste tested.”
“Well then, I’ll be back with those.”
“Curt, why don’t you join us when you come back, yea?” Val looked over at him, and then at Ev, who nodded over at his fellow pilot in agreement. 
“Yea, Biddick, you can’t leave me outnumbered here…” Ev offered, the two men sharing a silent conversation. 
“Well, alright then. I'll be right back.”
Once Curt had reached the bar, Val pressed a chaste kiss to Ev’s cheek. 
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
“You know what for.” She grinned. 
“Well, in that case, you’re welcome.”
“You two just going to gaze into each other's eyes all night, or are one of you going to go and save poor Olive, who’s been cornered at the bar.” Helen gestured to where Olive was now at the bar, Douglass, Benny and Curt, all trying to buy her a drink. 
“Jesus Christ almighty, Everett, you need to keep him on a leash.” Val sighed, pushing her chair back, standing to go rescue her friend. 
“Maybe we can ask Benny if he’ll lend us Meatball’s.” He called after her as she went, the two girls at the table with him laughing. 
“Okay boys, that’s enough,” Val pushed through them, just enough to get to Olive’s side. “Curt, I have two very thirsty friends waiting on you at the table.”
“I was just-“
“Helen and Tattie are waiting.” She fixed him with a look, and he quickly turned back to the bar to order two drinks for the girls and a whiskey for himself. 
“You two,” She turned on Douglass and DeMarco. “If you’d like to talk to Olive, come and sit with us.”
“Oh uh…”
“The table, Dougie,” Val grinned, a saccharine sweet smile stretching across her lips. “Benny, you and Meatball are welcome to join us.”
With that, she linked arms with Olive and marched her back towards the table that Everett and the girls were still occupying. 
“You could rule the world, Valencia DiRosano.” Olive shook her head with a laugh. 
“No, but I could certainly whip these fellas into shape.”
Neither girl had to turn around to know that all three boys were following dutifully behind them, looking more like lost puppy’s than the actual dog that was part of their little hodgepodge group. 
Four Red Cross gals, three pilots, a bombardier and a husky all crowded around a table as the band played on around them. Val had slid into Everett’s lap at one point, and Meatball had dutifully taken up her empty seat for himself, paws on the table like the good boy he was, simply enjoying the people around him. If she had to admit it, he was the best behaved fella at the table. Curt was currently telling a -very animated- story from back home that included Val, and a blonde that hadn’t gotten the hint that he was uninterested. 
“I ain’t never seen anything like it,” His arms flailed wildly around him, almost knocking the glass from Benny’s hand. “One minute she’s across the room, and the next, she’s got this girl by the elbow, hauling her out like-“
“Like trash, Curt. Because she was trash.” Val sniggered, pointing across the table at him while Everett held her in his lap. 
“So we know who to call when we need a quick exit then, is that it?” Benny chuckled. 
“Call Tattie, she’s just as good as I am.”
“Oh please! You’re the muscle, you managed to tame Kidd of that god awful scowl he’s been wearing for weeks.”
“That’s Egan’s fault,” Helen groaned. “Went and got himself demoted.”
“How exactly do you get demoted from Air Exec?” Dougie pondered, lighting himself a cigarette before it was quickly proffered by Olive, who plucked it from his fingers with a grin. “Hey!”
When she handed it back to him after taking the first inhale, no one at the table missed the slightly put out look on Benny’s face. Thankfully, they were saved by the Hundredths regimental photographer coming over to their table, camera in hand.
“You lot up for a group shot?”
“Absolutely!” Tattie grinned, maneuvering everyone so that they were all crowded together, Meatball front and center, tongue wagging in delight at all the attention. Val remained perched in Ev’s lap, her right arm wound around his neck, the left holding his that was firmly on her waist. Across from her, Dougie had pulled Olive into his lap, the blue eyed man looking rather pleased with himself. Curt had squeezed himself between Helen and Tattie, sitting on their laps, as Benny squeezed in between Val and Tattie, with Meatball. 
“Alright you guys,” Joe, the photographer hollered over the band. “On three…”
He counted off, and the flash captured the moment perfectly. He took a second, just to be sure, before the group untangled themselves. 
“How about you two,” He turned to Val and Everett. “Captain Blakely? Miss Val?”
“Oh! Thank you Joe!” She beamed, standing from Everett’s lap so that they could take a proper photo.
Adjusting his jacket, Everett wrapped both arms around her, holding her close as she rested one hand on his back, the other against his chest. They barely registered their friends watching, or that Joe had snapped the first photo of them simply looking at each other. When he had them turn to smile, Val felt as though she might burst; wrapped up in Everett’s arms, everything felt as it should. Her friends, the man she adored, the music around them and even Meatball. It didn’t escape her that this was the first photo they’d taken together, and she’d cherish it for the rest of her days.  
“I’ll get those to you all soon as I can.” Joe had bid them farewell after taking a few more of their group. Curt was especially excited to send the picture of him and Val home to his Ma. Proof they were both alright, he had said. Val suspected he just wanted to prove she hadn’t strangled him. Yet. 
“Thanks Joe!”
As he made his way to the next table, Curt stood from his spot at the table, holding his hand out to Helen, cheeky smile on his face. 
“Humor a poor sap with a dance?”
“Well; you’ve been surprisingly well behaved tonight, Curt, so why not.”
She allowed him to take her hand and guide her from her chair to the dance floor, where they began to sway to the tune of the band. 
Val and Tattie watched as both Dougie and Benny seemed to have the same idea, and sensing that DeMarco had sat and watched Olive with Douglass, Tattie stood from her seat, and tugged Dougie with her towards the dance floor. 
“Come on, you. Let’s stretch our legs, hmm?”
“Sure, Tattie…” Dougie followed her towards the center, eyes just barely catching Benny leading Olive to the dance floor as well. 
“May I?” Everett held his hand out for Val, who accepted without hesitation. Joining their friends on the dance floor, the band kept the tunes slow and romantic for a bit longer than normal. Val didn’t miss Dougie and Benny swap partners after the second song finished, the two of them remaining well behaved, lest ruin the mood of the evening for everyone. 
“The pair of them are lovesick.” Everett shook his head, watching as Olive joined Dougie, and Tattie moved into Benny’s hold. 
“Olive is definitely overwhelmed by it all,” Val looked up at him. “But between you and me, I think it’s Dougie who’s stolen her heart.”
“You think so?”
“She looks at him a certain way that she doesn’t when Benny comes around. I think she loves Benny but she may be falling in love with Doug.”
“Love, huh? That’s a big admission.” 
“Well, when you know, you know.” Val shrugged, tucking herself back against his chest. 
“Ain’t that the fuckin truth…” Ev whispered to himself, glancing down at the woman in his arms. 
He’d had a feeling when he first saw her in the club that night that something had been irking her, and when she had mentioned Curt wanting to talk, he thought it had been something he had done. The two of them were constantly arguing like siblings, the occasional real disagreement popping up, but they had seemed fine at the table, so maybe it really was nothing. 
“How did it go up there today?” She peeked up at him, and that’s when he saw it. The worry behind her eyes. 
“That’s what’s bothering you…”
“Nothing's bothering me.”
“Please, don’t lie to me…” 
“I don’t want to do this here,” Val eyed the room cautiously, before nodding towards the doors. “Take a walk with me?”
“Of course honey. Come on.”
He led her from the club, now outside in the dewy, English air. They walked hand in hand, silently, until they found a suitable place to talk without anyone hearing them. 
“It’s not like me to get scared but, today…”
“You heard about Baynard.” He guessed. 
“Tattie and I saw it happen.”
He hadn’t expected that she’d seen it. Hearing about these things was never easy, and the girls were all so friendly with the fellas that they began to grow attached to some of them. You remember how they take their coffee, or to ask about their sweetheart back home. Anything to bring a smile to their faces. 
“Jesus…”
“We were unloading the boxes into the truck, and the next thing we saw was the tail of a fort in the trees, black smoke and fire. Fire like I’ve never seen in my life.”
“Honey…”
“I just thought…” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to focus on something, anything. Anything except for the way her chest was seizing up and her eyes were watering. “What if it had been you, or Curt. I just don’t know what I’d have done.”
“I’m so sorry that you spent all day worried.”
“Kenny told us it wasn’t you… it shouldn’t be that grief comes with relief, Ev.”
“I know,” He sighed, taking her hands in his. “I wasn’t even off the ground yet when it happened. Yet… yet I felt this odd sense of thank god. Thank god it wasn’t my crew, my friends…”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything honey.”
“Are you ever scared? Scared that you might go up one day and, and-“
“Every day,” He admitted. “Scared we’ll live the rest of our lives stuck in East Anglia, fighting this goddamn war. Scared I’ll go up and it’ll be the last time. Scared I’ll end up stuck in the Stalag while you’re here alone. Scared to break your heart most of all.”
“Everett, no…no don’t say that.”
“We could be scared together. No one else has to know.” 
“Yea…yea let’s do that,” She huffed out a laugh, wiping at her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. It’s alright.”
“You weren’t supposed to see me cry.”
“No? But then I don’t get to do this.”
Carefully, he took her face in his hands, kissing away the tears that stained her cheeks. Slowly, carefully, his lips blazed a trail down her left cheek, stopping to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth before repeating the process on the right side. Once he had kissed her tears dry, and only then, did he allow his lips to find hers. Under the cover of night, he did his damndest to kiss away her fear and anything that scared her. He harbored enough fear for the two of them, and if he could ease hers just a bit, he’d do what he could. 
The sound of footsteps rounding the corner, crunching against the gravel pulled them apart. They found Dougie and Benny standing there, both wearing the disappointment on their faces with no attempt to hide it. 
“Ev,.” Doug sighed. “We gotta go. The light’s on.”
Part Four
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know! A big huge thank you to @hephaestn for the stunning new mood board.
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thyknife · 4 months
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As it turns out, Meatball is not just a fun addition to Masters of the Air cast, but in fact, was a real dog that lived with the 100th Bomb Group throughout the war. Though it is unclear who exactly took ownership of the dog in real life, Meatball was an actual husky that the 100th found in Labrador and took in as their own. Without question, they brought him to Thorpe Abbotts with them, and it was there that the dog remained until the end of the war.
There is not too much information about Meatball the husky, however, there is one interesting story about him as recorded by the 100th Bomb Group Foundation. Under the profile of John "Bucky" Egan, it reads that Meatball had been kindly taken in by the 100th Bomb Group, but he was not always a good boy. In fact, in the midst of some difficult times for the unit, Meatball got into trouble after killing a local chicken. The chicken's farmer was upset by this and confronted Egan, who ultimately paid for the chicken personally, saving Meatball's skin.
source
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edbloves · 3 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/edbloves/754938770487476224/consumed-by-thoughts-of-post-war-bucky-and-buck
Is there any chance we can have more of this 🥹🥹
Hi Anon!!
You absolutely can, let's see if I can cook something up for you, darling! These have been the head cannons bouncing around in my head the last few days so here you go:
After doing a little bit of math, I've decided that John's daughter would be around three (for pregnancy, stalag and post-war timing reasons)
John honestly doesn't remember her mother, and feels horribly guilty for it. He has vague memories of a drunken night in the Bristish bars with a Red Cross girl where both of them were mutually using the other to try to forget the war, but he knows nothing about her and barely remembers what she looks like. And to be honest, there were numerous instances of those, with numerous women
John, being the more charismatic of the two, relates better to her, though he is petrified that he's going to mess up and screw up her life (i.e. he's very aware that he drinks too much and smokes too much)
Gale is more nervous around her, never grew up with siblings and never knew anyone with kids her age and is terrified he's going to disappoint her or unknowingly start acting like his father. But once she starts to get more comfortable with them, he realizes that she's just a mini John and he falls even more in love with her
She LOVES Meatball (whom Demarco gave to Buck because Florida is not the place for a husky) and Meatball loves her back, they spend evenings with Meatball curled around her small frame and her tiny hands scrunched in his fur. Honestly, he's kind of like a therapy dog/emotional support animal for her after her mother's death and transition into John and Gale's life
All three of them get nightmares, John and Gale's about the war and her's about her mother dying, and later, about Buck and Bucky dying so it isn't uncommon for them to be up in the middle of the night all together
On that note, Gale keeps the fridge stocked with each other their favourite ice cream flavours (vanilla for him, chocolate for her and Bucky) and on warm nights where the nightmares wake them up, they'll all pile into the truck in their pyjamas and head out where there are views of the whole city and they'll curl up in the bed of the truck wrapped up and snuggled in blankets with Buck pointing out constellations and Bucky explaining that the sky is where he and Buck used fly
When she calls Bucky Daddy for the first time, he's calm about it with her but he completely loses it afterwards to Gale, emotionally overwhelmed and touched by her trust and love
On her second night with them, Gale is awake in the middle of the night thinking and spiralling and trying make mental tallies of all the things he has to do and learn and help her with and holy shit he's so unprepared and what are they going to do with a child, let alone a girl?? So he climbs out of bed and unthinking of the late hour, phones Marge and asks her how she does her hair. And lovely Marge is like WTF Gale? So Gale explains, says Bucky has a kid so I guess I have a kid now, too.
She has them instantaneously wrapped around her finger and they literally struggle so hard to say no to her ("You tell her she can't do that, John." "Why me? You tell her!" "I don't want her to be upset with me!" "You think I do?!") Good cop, bad cop is literally impossible to do with them, and Gale can't stomach it anyways, not with how his father was
They overload her with toys and clothes and sweets, particularly Gale, trying to come out from underneath the shadow of his own father and frets constantly that she doesn't know they love her
John is the one typically taking her out to do lots of activities, he signs her up for ballet and teaches her baseball as she grows up, puts her on the horses and on a bike probably too-early but Gale can't find it in himself to complain when John's smile is plastered all over her little face
Gale takes her with him EVERYWHERE, and not in the way his Dad took him (like it was a forced thing, like he was a nuisance he had to look after) but because Gale literally just wants to spend time with her all the time. He enjoys talking to her and getting her books to read as she learns her ABCs and hearing her three-year-old (sometimes strange) opinions on things, and having her accompany him to the grocery store and the post-office
Marge begs to babysit and she has to be damn convincing to get them to give her their daughter for a night
That's all I got for now! Hope you enjoy :) We'll see if I come up with more, then I might make it into a multi chapter fic if enough people are interested!
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kylaym · 4 months
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Meatball’s party 😌
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sweaterkittensahoy · 6 months
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Kidd: Demarco, why the hell is your damn dog on the roof of the tower?
Demarco: He climbs up there sometimes. We've tried to block his way, but he always finds a new way.
Kidd: Can he get down on his own?
Demarco: Yeah.
Kidd: Then why the fuck is Brady up there?
Demarco: He wanted to pet Meatball.
Kidd: ...If I didn't need you idiots to fly bombers...
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cetaitlaverite · 3 months
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Why All This Music?
Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC
the masterlist is here <3
39. Their Fair Share
April brought with it many changes; Freddie returning to Thorpe Abbotts a married woman, Rosie re-upping to fly mercy missions, a sudden but not at all unwelcome change in weather from the biting chill of winter to the timid warmth of spring.
April also brought Buck Cleven back to Thorpe Abbotts, the first face of the old guys any of them had seen since October 1943. He spoke about his escape from the prisoner of war camp, how it had been Bucky’s plan but he’d been caught and forced to stay behind. Something about that place haunted Buck, Freddie could tell, and leaving his best friend behind in it had nearly broken something in him.
But he was alive. Skinny and exhausted, broken down by his odyssey but alive and kicking and mustering smiles when anyone tried to joke with him.
“Look at you,” Buck said when Freddie first greeted him. It was entirely a coincidence that she happened upon him while she was leaving her office to go and find Jack while Buck was standing outside of air exec waiting for a meeting with Colonel Bennett.
Freddie laughed, doing a twirl for him and pointing out her insignia. “I outrank you now, Major.”
“That you do, ma’am,” Buck replied, grinning as he accepted her hug. “Heard you’re a married woman now, too. Rosie sweep you off your feet?”
“Absolutely he did,” Freddie confirmed, stepping back from their hug and showing off her wedding rings. “We only tied the knot in February and we’re still yet to go on a honeymoon. We were thinking of having another ceremony too, once the war’s over, since the first was so last minute. I was thinking maybe you and your sweetheart might like to come. I’d love to meet her.”
Buck smiled softly, warmly, and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, Marge and I will be there. Of course we will.”
Freddie smiled back at him. “Good. That makes me happy.” She reached out to squeeze his shoulder before stepping away. “I’m really glad to see you, Buck. Glad to have you back.”
“Yeah,” Buck replied, nodding at her. “Glad to see you too, Freddie. Glad to be back.”
It wasn’t until that evening that Buck was relieved from duty recounting everything he could remember about the stalag he’d come from and his escape, and so it wasn’t until that evening that he could reunite with Meatball.
Freddie and Rosie walked Meatball into the officers’ club, stopping in the doorway to search for their old friend and smiling when they spotted him.
The instant Buck noticed Meatball in the doorway with them, he grinned widely and jumped to his feet.
Freddie laughed, crouching to unclip Meatball’s lead and pointing in Buck’s direction as he approached. “Look, buddy,” she said, stroking over Meatball’s head, “that’s your friend! Remember him?”
Buck crouched in front of Meatball, holding out his hand for Meatball to smell. And as he smelled it, the husky’s head tilted to one side curiously, and they all laughed when they witnessed the instant he recognised Buck. 
Suddenly, all the music and chatter in the room was drowned beneath a cacophony of barking and howling. Meatball jumped all over Buck, covering him in kisses, while Freddie and Rosie stood back and laughed.
“Imagine when Benny gets back,” Freddie said to Rosie as they watched on with matching smiles. “He’ll be so excited he’ll probably pass out.”
“Or throw up,” Rosie countered, “if he’s anything like his mom.”
Freddie scoffed, nudging him lightly with her elbow and rolling her eyes. “I don’t throw up when I’m excited. You would have been covered in my vomit at the altar if I did.”
Rosie tipped his head back and laughed loudly while Freddie grinned. From where they’d been watching the scene by the bar, Jem and Millie approached with Croz.
“What a touching reunion,” Jem remarked, thrusting her thumb in the direction of Buck and Meatball on the floor. Meatball had yet to falter in his excitement, still bouncing and running around Buck, jumping up at him and licking every inch of his face he could reach.
Freddie grinned. “I dread to think what Mils and Brady will do when he gets back.”
“The feral animals will probably strip off their clothes and start fu-”
“Jem!” Millie cut across her with a sharp gasp.
Freddie laughed. “Not so funny when it’s you on the receiving end of a conversation about your sex life, is it, Mils?”
Millie cut her eyes at her. “Don’t start. You were such an innocent little flower when Buck last saw you, don’t make me ruin his mental image of you the way it’s been ruined for everyone else.”
From the floor, Buck chuckled. “Spend a year and a half in a stalag and all of a sudden everything’s changed.”
Freddie grinned at him. “Right then. Buck, is Meatball okay to stay with you? I need a drink if we’re all going to be carrying on like this.”
“Sure,” Buck agreed, “I got him.”
Rosie took everyone’s drink order and led Freddie to the bar with a hand on the small of her back. Once there, Freddie greeted the barman, Atley, warmly and handed over Meatball’s water bowl for him to fill up, then promptly wrapped both of her arms around Rosie’s waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I love you,” she said in a sing-song.
Rosie grinned down at her, not that she could see it, and wrapped his arms around her in turn. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
Freddie smiled to herself. “I feel so happy right now, not sure why. It just feels like we’re so close to the end. Do you think so, too?”
Rosie hummed his affirmative. “Yeah. Especially with Major Cleven back. The end feels so close.”
Freddie hid a smile in his chest. “You’re a major now too, darling. You can just call him Buck.”
“I don’t know him as well as you do,” Rosie argued.
Tilting her head back to look up into his face, Freddie grinned. “You are too cute. How did I end up with the cutest husband in the whole world?” She puckered her lips for a kiss, which he gladly gave her, and grinned at him again when he pulled back, because he really was the sweetest thing she’d ever laid her eyes on.
Rosie was blushing. “I’d prefer if you didn’t call me cute when all the guys are around, Fred.”
Freddie smirked, quirking a brow. “Oh? What should I call you instead, oh big, brave, manly husband of mine?”
Rosie snorted. “That works.”
Freddie rolled her eyes and wordlessly begged another kiss, just before Atley set down their drinks and returned Meatball’s water bowl now filled with water.
“Wonderful!” Freddie cheered. “Thank you, Atley. You’re my favourite barman.”
Atley laughed with a jovial roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You say that to all the barmen who fill up your dog’s bowl for free.”
Freddie winked at him. “They wouldn’t fill it up for me if I didn’t.”
Freddie took her drink and the water bowl while Rosie took all of the other drinks over to the table Buck had been sitting at when they’d come in. And Meatball, so excited to have one of his old friends back, climbed up onto Buck’s lap as soon as he sat back down, lying across Buck’s thighs like his own personal, living blanket.
Freddie was grinning as she watched them.
Buck just laughed. “Missed you too, Meatball,” he said, running his hands up and down Meatball’s back.
“I’m going to have a hard time prying him off of you to get him to go to bed tonight,” Freddie mused, lifting her glass to sip her lemonade around her amused smile.
Buck shared her smile. “Y’know, Benny was real glad when we found out you were looking after Meatball for him.” His amused smile turned soft as he looked down at the dog in his lap. “Said he could relax a little ‘cause he knew you’d take good care of him.”
Freddie shrugged, breathing a laugh. “He’s a pleasure to babysit, really. I’ll find it hard to say goodbye to him when Benny gets back.”
Buck smiled at her but didn’t say anything, turning his attention to the room at large. Freddie knew he must have been taking in all the many unfamiliar faces. To Freddie, this place still belonged to the old guys, Buck and Bucky and the first wave of American airmen who had invaded Thorpe Abbotts, and everyone who had come and made a home here since was just a guest. To all the new guys, though, Buck was a name they’d heard once and a face they didn’t recognise. A cautionary tale, perhaps, about what happened if you went down and got caught. Freddie resented the thought that time had moved on before her eyes without her noticing; she didn’t know many of the new guys herself, not really. She herself had always remained in the version of Thorpe Abbotts which had existed when Rosie had first arrived, when Buck and Bucky were in charge and she was still just a wireless operator.
“It’s so strange,” she said softly, turning to speak only to Rosie, “thinking about how much has changed throughout the war. I kind of keep thinking that when the war ends I’ll go back to being nineteen and pick up right where I left off, but I won’t.”
“Would you want to?” Rosie asked equally as quietly.
Freddie’s eyes passed over his face, her most favourite face in the world, and moved onto Millie and Jem, laughing in the two chairs beside him, and to Meatball, resting on Buck’s lap. “No,” she said decisively, without a doubt in her mind. “No, I wouldn’t want to go back at all. I’d do it all over again, in fact, if it meant I got to keep you.”
Freddie knew Rosie understood the significance of what she was saying. She’d lose Daniel again to keep Rosie. She would always love Daniel but this was where she belonged, she knew it now with an unwavering certainty.
Early April turned to late April. May was just around the corner. Flowers were blooming in the fields around the airfield and Freddie dragged Rosie and Meatball with her on many an occasion to go and look at them.
Freddie had been out on one more mercy mission with Rosie and, satisfied with the flak truce, had henceforth let him fly many. It was good work, she knew, and now she’d gotten a taste of flying she could understand why airmen were so crazy about being in the air.
Buck, once settled, also started to fly these humanitarian aid missions, often with Rosie as his co-pilot and Croz as his navigator. Freddie had grinned as she’d watched them take off that morning; it felt to her like the old days, before Buck had gone down and Croz had become air exec, before she’d been promoted into leading Operation Corona. Those old days felt golden to her now, tinted with a rosy hue in her memory. She hadn’t truly realised at the time how much she’d miss them until it was all taken away in Münster.
No one was out bombing while Rosie, Buck, and Croz were on their mercy mission today, so Freddie was off the hook where work was concerned. Operation Corona was slowing down now that bombing missions on the continent in general were slowing down. The end of the war was so close she could almost taste it, and it tasted unbearably sweet - but just a little bit sour, too, when she thought about how peacetime would mean Thorpe Abbotts shutting down, all the planes leaving and all the people with them. Millie would be five hours away when they moved to New York, Jem would likely still be in England, and Freddie still hadn’t found the right moment to talk to her parents about moving to New York City with her.
She was quiet as she thought about all this, and Millie and Jem were so deep in debate about whether Amy and Douglass had the hots for each other they didn’t really notice.
Freddie had her eyebrows furrowed, one hand pulling at her bottom lip while the other combed rhythmically through Meatball’s fur as he rested his head in her lap. She had her eyes set on the gate to Thorpe Abbotts and wondered whether the last time that gate closed might be anytime soon. The grass beneath her crossed legs was itchy and the sun was warm on her skin. She wondered whether the war would last another Christmas or whether she’d be in America by then.
The orderly manning the gate climbed down from his perch in the gatehouse and scrambled to pull open the gate.
Freddie sat up straighter, her hand falling from her lip to her lap as she wondered who was coming in. On an entirely unremarkable Thursday afternoon such as this one she was sure they weren’t expecting any guests.
Jeep after jeep, full to bursting with men, barrelled through the gate. Those seated in the backs of the jeeps rose up as high as they could and lifted their arms into the air, cheering.
Freddie shot a glance at Millie and Jem and found that the commotion had also drawn their attention, though they too had no idea what to make of it. For Meatball’s part, his years of living on an active airfield had immunised him to the sound of chaos; he didn’t bother to lift his head from Freddie’s lap.
The jeeps didn’t stop at the gate but kept going, and as they neared Millie gasped. She rocketed to her feet, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun so she could get a better look, then set off at a sprint towards them. “John!”
“John?” Jem asked, wide-eyed and utterly shocked. She and Freddie both hurried to their feet, setting off after Millie but slower, warier. 
“Millie!” a male voice from the jeeps was shouting back.
Freddie’s eyes shot to Jem. “No,” she said, a slow grin spreading across her face.
“John!” Millie kept shouting.
John Brady all but launched himself out of the back seat of his jeep, too eager to wait for the driver to stop, and only faltered in his step a little bit as he caught his balance and started forward. He met Millie halfway, crushing her to him in his arms and catching her lips in an immediate kiss, before he lifted her up and twirled her in a circle and hugged her fiercely again.
Freddie could tell they were both crying, much as Brady probably would have liked to hide it from the other men. So she and Jem gave them their privacy, exchanging a smile as Millie and Brady cupped each other’s cheeks in their hands and pressed their foreheads together, ensuring there wasn’t an inch of space between them.
Meatball started barking and Freddie knew instantly who he’d spotted. “Where is he, buddy?” she asked, slackening her hold on his lead to let him lead her. “Go find your dad!”
Meatball set off at a run which was too fast for Freddie to keep up with but she couldn’t let him go while the jeeps were still driving on the path. But Benny, noticing the scene, was quick to follow in Brady’s footsteps and forcefully disembarked his jeep.
Freddie let Meatball go so he could run to his owner unrestrained.
There were tears in Freddie’s eyes as she stood back with Jem and watched as Benny and Meatball reunited. Meatball was howling, bouncing around Benny and jumping up at him, running in circles around him where he was crouched in the grass.
Benny reached for Meatball as much as he could while he was moving so much and shared a wide grin and a laugh with Freddie above Meatball’s head.
“He’s really missed you,” Freddie said. She hastily swiped a thumb under her eye to catch the solitary tear which slipped out as she approached.
Benny grinned and pressed a firm kiss to the top of Meatball’s head, then scooped him up into his arms to hold him to his chest.
The jeeps had likely been headed for the nissen huts so the men could become reacquainted with their footlockers, but after two of their number had prematurely disembarked the drivers slowed to a stop.
Man after man came pouring across the grass toward them, faces Freddie hadn’t seen in years. She smiled and laughed and gave out many hugs, and when she saw Bucky Egan standing to one side waiting to greet her, a wave of inexplicable tears came streaming down her cheeks and she threw herself at him at once.
“If I’d known this is what it would’ve taken to get you to fall into my arms I woulda become a POW much sooner, Fred,” he teased, wrapping his arms firmly around her. She could hear his smile in his voice.
“Hush, you,” Freddie chided him teasingly. “I’m a married woman now and my husband won’t tolerate your flirting, Major Egan.”
“What?!” Bucky exclaimed, pushing away from her and checking her left hand. “You’re married?! To Rosie?!” Freddie supposed Millie’s letter to Brady hadn’t arrived in time.
“To Rosie,” Freddie confirmed, grinning. “We tied the knot in February after his plane went down and I thought he was dead for three weeks.” Bucky pulled a face and Freddie laughed. “It was a bit last minute but I wouldn’t change any of it. And you are cordially invited to our formal ceremony whenever the war ends, should you so wish to attend.”
“As a matter of fact I do wish to attend,” Bucky confirmed with a grin.
Freddie laughed. “Good.”
Preliminary introductions over, the men filed into their previous huts, all long since taken over by new airmen, and retrieved their footlockers and spent a long while in the shower. They headed to the mess hall and ate their body weight in food and, when Freddie told Bucky where Buck was, she led him to the tower and into the radio room so he could be the first to greet him over the radio when his plane returned.
It was impossible to ignore how everything felt like it was ending now that all the old guys were back. Freddie didn’t want to get her hopes up just to have them dashed with a fresh wave of German counteroffensive, but it really did seem as though they were on their last legs. With prisoner of war camps being liberated, Allied territory being gained, and humanitarian missions being flown, it seemed like their war was nearly over.
Freddie stood back with a smile as she listened to Bucky greet his old friend over the radio. One day, she thought, all of this would be such a distant memory. She hoped she and Rosie would have children and only talk about the war when they talked about their friends or the happy memories they had of their time in the service. She hoped the war would be behind them soon enough, and that they’d all get their fair share of hard-earned peace.
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thatsrightice · 4 months
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In England one of [“Red” Bowman’s] jobs was placating Thorpe Abbotts neighbors, irate about the loss of chickens to a Husky Dog, "requisitioned" during an Icelandic stay by a 418th bombardier. Red grimly accepted the importance of the dog, Meatball, as a squadron mascot, and admired the dog's impeccable taste. "Meatball," he said, "never eats just an ordinary chicken. Every farmer who comes to us with a claim always demands top price because, once again, Meatball has eaten only prize poultry."
— an excerpt from a post to the 100th Bomb Groups website titled “Red” Bowman, written by Two Friends
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hogans-heroes · 6 months
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Hello helloo, may I please ask for Demacon high school headcanons if you have any? 🥹💕
Oh my darling you have caused me to happily procrastinate all my tasks to think about this. I love them so much so of COURSE I HAVE HIGH SCHOOL HCS!
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For some reason I like the idea of Benny calling Macon “Mac” or maybe he goes by that because Richard feels like his dad/grandpa and he’s heard enough Rick or Dick to be Over It.
Macon is somehow both in the cool kid crowd AND a huge brainiac that’s in all the science/math clubs. It’s unfair. That scene in MOTA where he stands to infodump very technical information and everyone turns to look at him? Yup. Cue Benny trying to hide that he’s smitten.
Benny is more quiet and not in the cool crowd, feels like he’d never have a chance with Macon. Macon travels the school with this flock of science gods (incl. Gale, Alex, Harry, etc) and they’re all so cool/fashionable but also really kind people and Benny is *gone*
Maybe Benny checks a couple physics books out of the library so he can have something to talk to Macon about…no one has to know (besides Curt who works at the library—he drew the short straw of the work/study program—and gave Benny the Look when he was getting the books).
Benny’s not exactly shy, he just doesn’t know how to approach Macon when he’s so starstruck
What he doesn’t know is that Macon is also harboring a crush on the sweet dark-eyed boy with the old truck and husky he treats like a child, thinks Benny is the most beautiful thing but can’t think of a way to approach
Then one morning when Benny takes Meatball to the park he runs into Macon on a jog or something (make it funny like Meatball charges him in excitement and knocks him into the lake) and Benny is mortified but Macon is laughing and cuddling Meatball while Benny simultaneously apologizes and tries not to melt and my dorm is right there do you need clothes, omg I’m so sorry. And Macon’s like well yes thank you I have class after this and then he walks into class wearing one of Benny’s distinctive shirts and everyone looses their shit. Forget trying to explain.
And well, Macon has to bring the clothes back sometime, and maybe would Benny want to go on morning walks more often (with Meatball of course)? They start hanging out and find out they have a lot in common
They can’t hide it at school because they’re giddy and in their own little world.
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onyxsboxes · 2 months
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Last line tag
Rules: show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.
I've been tagged a few times for this (sorry, I hadn't replied in a while) so it's a bit more than a line.
Thank you @alienoresimagines @sig-nifier @rambleonwaywardson
@avonne-writes @luckydeuce and @amiserableseriesofevents for the tag 🤗
John throws his duffel bag over his shoulder and grips Meatball's leash tighter. He doesn't really know the city, so there's no way he's going to let Meatball wander around until he's sure it's safe. DeMarco and Buck (or any member of the 100th for that matter) would kill him if anything happened to the husky, their little mascot, on his watch. And they're both pretty damn scary when it comes to Meatball. He lost count of how many people they made run away with their metaphorical tails between their legs, after being hostile to Meatball. No one is mean to Meatball and lives to tell the tale.
Tagging, if you want, @anachilles @aramisath @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @defnotanarc @impalachick
@jenning-fcb @joeyalohadream @john-cleven @johnslittlespoon @lvckylvx
@roseszirnheld @simplykayley @tygercaine and anyone who wants to
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mastersoftheair · 9 months
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from adam long's instagram story (ft. the dog playing "meatball the husky", resident mascot)
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