#wingmen

[shadebloopnik]

Ik we all love the hc that Lucifer would be the one thats blushing and flustered in the relationship while Alastor's the calm one, but what if it isn't?

What if Lucifer is actually so much better at hiding his emotions and retaining a poker face? What if Alastor isn't as adept at keeping his emotions hidden as he thought?

Ok, clearly he isn't going to be a weird blushy mess, but like, at least to the hotel's perspective, to people who know him well enough, imagine he's like, super fucking obvious.

Plus points if he's oblivious as hell about it at first.

Like to the hotel residents they see Alastor absolutely go off the rocker when first meeting Lucifer, which, is a huuuuge step from his usual indifference. Then they think, oh man he hates the King so much. But then they also notice more things as the days go on.

How Alastor's ears perk up whenever the King enters the room. How his eyes would find their way to Luci almost unconsciously. The STARING. How he'd slowly be more touchy around the King. How Lucifer's meals always had a little something extra when it was Alastor's turn to cook. How his eyes would crinkle with genuine fondness when the King laughed. How the back of his coat would move as though a tail-they-def-don't-know-the-existence-of is wagging whenever the King would smile in Al's direction.

And the cherry on top, Alastor's face turning as red as his hair when he was asked about it.(bigger evidence: how the parlor had to be rebuilt after being demolished by him, but yknow we wont focus on that)

Once they get over the shock of Alastor having a massive fucking crush on the King of Hell, they then realize that, oh wow actually Alastor fucking sucks at this, he's hopeless.

So they all decide to wingman him, some more eager than others (Vaggie will forever bemoan the idea of having Alastor as a future step-father in law, overshadowed by Charlie's "OH MY GOSH TWO DADS")

They all have their different ways of "helping" and though Alastor absolutely loathes it, he has to accept the fact that he has no idea what he's doing and to 'shut the fuck up and let the experts handle this.'

The results range from mild success(Husk setting them up for a private drink at the bar), to awkward failures (Charlie making them wear a single get-together shirt) to humiliating uncertainty(Lucifer immediately excusing himself after seeing Alastor wear a backless suit that Angel suggested)

Idk where im going with this or if there's a fic like this, but I'd soooo love to read it. Just, an entire silly fic of wingman shenanigans please and thank you

[shapeshiftinterest]

kamek giving mario a potion cuz he's just fed up with all this will they won't they bowuigi bullshit

kamek: listen, red, i'm at my wit's end with these two

kamek: take this. maybe if we... ugh

kamek: team up, those idiots will finally get together

mario: grazie

hear me out

kamek and mario love their boys

but good GOD is it taking forever for one of them to say something

anything!

bowuigi halloween event

prompt: potions

[lady-embers]

The shadows are Azriel's wingmen 💙🦇💖

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

More Penguin Classics covers for old gay novels.

(Part 1)

[zaccariacombat]

World War II is the most personally fascinating period in all of history for me. Nothing intrigues me like it does. I do have World War II buff tendencies at heart, but I tend to keep it under wraps most of the time. While that is considered a stereotypically straight male interest, it is not exclusively so by any means.

Why do I bring up sexuality? Well, I immediately gravitate towards any book that features a gay male relationship in the time of World War II, particularly between military men, because it satisfies two of my deep interests at once. Two of my favorite novels are Look Down in Mercy by Walter Baxter and Wingmen by Ensan Case. To me, these both exemplify the kind of book I want to read, but they execute them in different ways; Look Down in Mercy is much more literary in style compared to the midcentury popular war fiction style of Wingmen. Nevertheless, these books reach something deep in me that almost no other book I have ever read featuring gay men and World War II ever has before, and I think I figured out why: the vast majority of modern fiction involving a gay relationship in World War II falls into the category of traditional M/M romance fiction, and I prefer a gay male relationship in World War II that is not bound by the conventions of romance fiction, as well as has engaging historical details beyond set dressing.

I will be clear that I don't look down on romance fiction at all. It simply is usually not for me. I have given romance novels a good shot because I was looking for more gay World War II content to satisfy this niche interest of mine. A lot of them I even enjoyed, but it was almost always at a rather surface level. They didn't stick with me like Wingmen or Look Down in Mercy, with one exception, which I will get into later. At fist, I wondered why. I have since realized that pure, traditional romance novels are not for me because there is a fundamental mismatch between how I enjoy relationships in fiction and the inherent structure of a romance novel: I don't like a guaranteed happily ever after or happy for now ending. I want there to be at least some doubt that the ending will be positive, so if it is happy, it feels much more valuable. I can really enjoy an unhappy ending if it tells a compelling story, and the lack of that possibility makes the HEA or HFN endings in a romance novel feel so cheap to me. I understand that the reassurance of a positive ending is a driver for many people's interest in romance, so I know this is just a personal thing.

There is one book that falls into the M/M romance umbrella that did resonate with me, though, that did stick with me. That is this very obscure, Kindle-only book called Box 1663 by Alex Sorel. It involves an army photographer falling in love with a scientist at Los Alamos. What made it work for me, despite it being marketed as a romance novel, is that it didn't feel like one. Instead, it was a historical thriller, involving some of the greatest secrets of the war, that also involved a gay romance. It is not marketed as such at all, however. It also involved all these historical details around Los Alamos that made me really excited.

I think another flaw common in gay romance fiction taking place in World War II is that the setting feels like a total backdrop to the gay romance. I'm a World War II buff! I want to enjoy the setting, too! Reading about all the planes in Wingmen is so exciting to me. Look Down in Mercy has extremely vivid descriptions of the war that could range from beautiful to absolutely disgusting. Honestly, I like the scene descriptions as much as the actual plot in that book. That's how good they are. Box 1663 lets the reader know all about the Los Alamos laboratory and the dry landscapes of New Mexico. It was not just set dressing. The laboratory actually meant something; it was related to the thriller plot.

The thriller plot and historical details kept me so engaged in Box 1663, despite it being marketed as M/M romance and thus being guaranteed to not have a doomed relationship. This is what keeps me from totally avoiding all modern M/M romance during World War II. I can look past the guaranteed positive ending if I could end up with another Box 1663. It hasn't happened, but I don't want my enjoyment of this particular niche to be totally stuck in the 20th century. I want to give modern works a shot, too.

It feels so hard for me to find the kind of book I want to read that I started writing one myself. Back in 2020, I started writing a novel surrounding an American bomber crew in World War II. Two of the guys in the crew do end up falling in love. I think I will go back to it eventually and rewrite much of it. My writing has improved since then and I see where I wrote myself into a corner.

Basically, it feels so hard for me to find the kind of book that perfectly engages two separate interests like this. The World War II fiction authors generally don't care all that much about gay relationships, and the authors who want to write gay relationships are generally not especially fascinated by World War II. The kind of book I want to read is in an absolutely minuscule niche. I hope I can find more, but for now, at least it has motivated me to start writing my own novel.

If you have any recommendations, let me know! Please don't recommend The Charioteer, though. I already know about it, I tried reading it, and it didn't work for me at the time. I keep meaning to go back to it, though. But, if you have any other books that I may like, I would love to hear about them. This niche is so small that I probably already know about it, but possibly not!

[shadows-on-the-sky]

Hello, I have only recently discovered the story of Jack Ilfrey, and am eagerly awaiting the delivery of a 1st edition paperback copy of Wingmen that I sourced in a bookshop in London. I am researching the lives of WW2 airmen in the UK, US, Canada, and Australia. I wondered if you know what became of Christopher "Ensan" Case? I can find no bibliographic information on him after 2015 (the GLBTQ archive letter). All the best, Allan

Hello and thank you for the message, Allan.

Unfortunately, there has been no recent news about Ensan Case. In 2015, Case announced on his website (which has since been taken down) that he was finishing writing a Wingmen spin-off novel, which he planned to release the following year. He was active online at the time but has since gone radio silent.

At this point, I think it wouldn't be inappropriate to say he probably passed away shortly after that. I have had no success in trying to find any other information about him; in fact, I don't even know his full actual name.

[iconsfinder]

[neptunes-blue]

It’s 3am but I drew my first full body since march 2023, are you proud of me guys guys guys are youproudof me guysguysfuys

[allanhildon]

Captain Jack "Happy Jack" Ilfrey 1920-2004. Check out the swastikas on the side of his plane. He was shot down twice but evaded capture and returned to his squadron. In the final decade of his life he confirmed to Christopher Case that his life paralleled the story of Jack and Fred in Wingmen, but sadly he had never felt able to be open with his family or peers. His autobiography "Happy Jack's Go Buggy" arrived in the post today. I can't wait to dive into it.

[cowsoustanding]

you know how, after having opened the fridge a first time and having determined there's nothing to eat, we get up again in a half hour and try again to like, see if anything new has appeared? Well it's the same with me and every time I turn on a top gun movie--only I'm waiting for that icemav kiss that I know is in there somewhere.

[hypnotiiize]

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

   𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 

𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: i’m american, so i will be using a lot of american terminology, probably without even realizing fr. just a warning. on that same note, they’re gonna sound like new yorkers. im not talking like AHK LEMME GET A BACON EGG AND CHEESE but you gotta roll w it cause im boutta make it really fun for myself. also she’s Black. 

    There was the sweep of his fingers against the inside of her wrist before there was anything else, and for a moment she was sure that he could feel the nervous thrum of her pulse. 

In the next moment came the panic of what he would assume: that the sporadic beat of her heart was due to his effect on her, despite the less-than-friendly words she tossed at him offhandedly. Though there was something on his face that stopped her worries in their tracks, the parting of his full lips an indication of the words he either could not or would not say. The latter seemed most likely. 

There wasn’t anything he could not say to her, hating the feeling of being confined to social niceties. His words, sharp in nature yet flat in tone, were always said carelessly. She would just smile daringly at him. There would be a second where he wasn’t so confident with his insult (because, um, who smiles when they’re insulted?), and then would come her well-crafted retort. He would roll his eyes, take a moment to recoup, and then insult her once more. So went the cycle that they existed within.  

In the very beginning, when their work together was brand new and therefore fragile, he’d dreaded having to face her. She was excitable and loud, though for someone so ditzy she sure was quick on her feet. He had a sneaking suspicion that ditziness was a ploy used to lure in prey and strike just when they least expected it. There was always something else she would say, always a step she would take further, always a match she would propel into the fire. She never knew went to let an argument go— this being the very complaint he’d heard about himself many times in his life— and she could hold a grudge like she was paid to do it. She made him feel for the people he’d annihilated verbally in his past, as he, too, could feel his resolve breaking with each “Mhm, yeah, okay” she’d slipped in just as he’d tried to get the last word. 

The arguments won were split fifty-fifty between the two. He’d counted. 

Make it fifty-one, forty-nine, in his favor, ever since her little stint had almost gotten them caught. 

The tips of her ears went hot when his win was incontrovertible. She knew he’d been proven right just as they’d heard a gentle voice ask “Did you hear that?” from the window they were crouched underneath. 

He’d known it, too. He would boast later, he decided, just as he felt a cold hand press against his mouth. His brown eyes flashed in shock as they slid to the woman at his side, his hand flying around her wrist as a result of his own panic. 

“Trent.” She hissed his name and gripped the neck of his shirt, her lips curled in a way that reminded him of his grandmother as she spoke through her teeth, “I swear to God if they hear us you’re gonna get it.” 

He rolled his eyes at the threat, well aware of the substance they usually lacked. He could knock on one of her threats and hear an echo from just how hollow they were. For all the admittedly creative hypotheticals she would hurl his way, the most she’d actually done was chuck her shoe at him. 

“You’re not gonna do anything,” he called her bluff, the palm over his mouth making his words come out like whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp. 

“Oh yeah? I’m not gonna do anything?” she asked, deciphering his sentence lightning-fast. 

If she were anyone else, he would have been alarmed. He would’ve felt his stomach twist with the fright of wondering just who had him hemmed up against the side of his best friend’s family home. But she was herself. And she had the weirdest particular set of skills he had seen since the Taken movies. 

He nodded fearlessly. “Yeah.” Whomp.

She smirked something wicked. If she’d had a sister, a dusty old Kansas home would’ve fallen on her at that very moment, leaving her to be robbed for her shoes by some American girl and her dog. He could hear the music in his head– the fast-paced, creepy instrumental that accompanied her hopping onto the nearest broomstick to go torment some other footballer. 

“I will show up to one of your games with your kit on, in your section,” she said, a calculated punishment indeed. His blood ran cold as she leaned in closer, speaking slowly, “And I will tell everyone that I’m your Fiancée. Everyone, Trent. Ev-er-y-one.” 

He could hear it then: her maniacal, witchy laughter. He could even see the green shade of her skin, though when a car passed he’d found it’d just been from shoddy lighting reflecting across the leaves.

Whomp whomp whomp whomp. 

“Oh, they’ll believe me, alright. I mean, look at us.” She whipped her phone from her back pocket and pressed the power button, bringing her screen to life. His fingers tightened a bit around her wrist as his eyes bugged out. finding the two of them set as her lock screen. 

There, set on her phone and visible just underneath the time marker, was a picture of the two of them. He stared at himself through the camera, his arms wrapped comfortably around the woman’s waist as if he held her every day. His fingers were curled into a fist around the fabric of her tight-fitting shirt, gripping her like he could not bear living a life without feeling her skin against his own. His cheek rested against the crown of her head, peaceful and content. He seemed as if he were caught mid-wistful sigh, a relaxed smile on his face. Her own eyes pierced through his soul even through the phone screen as she smiled softly. Her left hand was placed over his heart and there, on her fourth finger, rested the largest diamond he had seen since that one Beyoncé music video. 

He had only ever seen love like that immortalized in old picture albums. He recalled thumbing through pages of his own grandfather wrapped around his grandmother in the same real, enamored way. 

For a second he questioned if he had proposed. 

Whomp whomp whomp whomp?

“Yeah, I photoshopped it. It’s pretty good, right?!” She wiggled her eyebrows at him tauntingly before tilting her phone to and fro. “Look! If I move this phone fast enough, you can’t even see where I cropped your mother out.” 

She was more devious than The Joker. 

He was, admittedly, a little awed. 

The gentle thrum of her pulse against his ring finger served as a reminder of her humanness. He would often forget that she, too, lived. To him, she was merely an entity. To him, she appeared here and then to annoy him for two hours, and then she ceased to exist. But the bone he held in his hands threw a wrench in his theory. Suddenly, she was real. Suddenly, she was breakable. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. 

The sound of the backdoor sliding open drifted to them through the silent night, and in his panic, he pressed his own hand to her mouth. They huddled closer together (they would never address this, of course), her hand over his heart despite the phone she held. 

He could feel her breath against his hand, could feel the humidity of her exhales in his palm– yet another reminder of her mortality. Under his ring finger, her pulse sped. He tugged her closer to him, holding her tighter, securing her safety. Her anxiety would get them both caught and that simply couldn’t happen. 

“It was out here?” Trent’s best friend asked as he stepped onto his patio. 

At once, Trent pondered what would happen if Mason had happened to find them hidden in his backyard. He struggled, momentarily, to figure out what his excuse would be. The truth seemed so bizarre he was sure Mason would think he was lying, anyway. There was no sane way to say that he and this girl, who was by all accounts a random to him, had teamed up to conquer Mason’s love life. 

“Yes,” replied the girl’s own best friend. Alicia stepped out behind Mason, sounding a little stressed as Mason began to trot further into his backyard, “Aye. Aye, what are you doing? Come here. Stay. Mason, stay.”

Mason turned on his heel, laughing loudly. “What am I, a dog?” He walked further, only stopping when the darkness began to sheath him.

Alicia shook her head at Mason’s supposed bravery, sighing wearily under her breath, “I really needa stop messing with white men.”

The rush of air against the crest of Trent’s hand told him that the girl in his arms had giggled. He widened his eyes at her cautiously. All it would take was one laugh; they might as well have been what Vegemite went on. 

Mason extended his hand to the woman by the sliding doors. “Come here.” He grinned when Alicia rolled her eyes. “Alicia, there’s nothing out here. And if there is, I got you,” he promised her. 

Alicia almost looked shocked by the fact that she had begun walking after him. “Mason, just know I’m running if something jumps out at us,” she told him genuinely.

“I got you,” Mason repeated confidently. He pulled her form to his once their hands met, cupping her waist naturally. “I’ll protect you.”

Alicia turned her head from his, deep brown eyes twisting from the sky to the grass. She laughed breathlessly. “You’re such a flirt.”

Mason held her more firmly, his fingers happening to slip underneath her shirt. He could feel the smoothness of her skin against his palm. He could measure the breaths she sucked in, and those she lost due to his proximity. He smiled when she huffed as he passed a finger along her hip.

“Why do I have to be flirting?” He shook his head with an ill-disguised smirk. “I’m not flirting.” 

(He was flirting.)

Alicia nudged his body away from hers when the feeling of his fingers on her skin became too much to bear, jokingly muttering, “Unhand me.” She wrapped her arms around herself, the absence of Mason leaving her in the chilled night air. She cursed a little under her breath, watching as the wind blew through the leaves of the bushes. “It’s cold as hell, Mason. I’m going back inside. Fight off Michael Myers yourself.” 

“You’re so scary,” he teased.

“Hmm, would I rather be scary or alive?” Alicia raised both hands in the air, her palms toward the sky as she weighed her options. Eventually, her right hand won. “I’m thinking alive.”

“You’ll never get anywhere being scared of everything,” said Mason, though he’d found himself jogging to her side as she walked back to the house.

“Who said I’m scared of everything? I’m just not gonna make it so easy for whoever’s tryna take me out,” she said, sure of herself. She’d ran track in her teen years. She figured, as long as the killer didn’t have a gun or a car or even a really good scooter, she’d be able to make a solid run for it. 

Mason chuckled and shook his head at her. “Alicia, who is trying to take you out?!”

Alicia shrugged and waved her hands wildly, passionate about staying on ten toes at all times. “Tuh! I don’t know! People! Matter of fact– I can, like, feel eyes on me right now!”

“You’re so paranoid,” mused Mason, side-stepping into the warmth of her body. He slid his arm around her for the second time, beaming when she didn’t shove him off and call him a flirt. “And like I said, I got you. You’ll be fine.” 

“I don’t have faith in men,” said Alicia plainly. 

“Well, you gotta have faith in me,” Mason countered, gnawing on his bottom lip and praying she hadn’t heard the cheek in his tone. 

Alicia had heard full well, and she’d parted her lips to tell him to stop flirting for the umpteenth time when her foot slipped on something she had not seen, having been too caught up with staring at the man beside her. 

Alicia shrieked as she slipped backwards. She hurriedly grabbed Mason’s shoulders just as he wrapped his arms around her torso, twisting her mid-air and taking the brunt of the fall. A second later, when the grass pricked into his neck and ears, he was breathless from both the fall and Alicia’s amazed face an inch above his own. 

He laughed and reached up to brush her hair out of her face. He stared at her glossy lips for three full seconds before meeting her eyes with a smug look.

“See? I got you.”

She giggled. “Shut up.”

He flattened his hand along the side of her head, thumb resting where her baby hairs laid as he laughed once more. “My back hurts, but I got you.”

Alicia could not stop her grin. She placed her head on his chest to hide just how smitten she was, opting to listen to the rhythmic beat of his heart as it vibrated throughout her own body.

They laid on the grass under the watchful glare of the moon, under the luminous shine of the stars, and under the anxious gazes of their two best friends who were hiding in the bushes to their right. 

“Let’s get off this grass, Mason,” said Alicia after some time, helping him onto his feet and shepherding him into his home. “And who left that rope out there, anyway? Like, I think I almost lost my life just then…”

The backdoor clicked shut just as the score snapped back to fifty-fifty. 

Trent pressed his eyes together for a long moment. He wouldn’t hear the end of it, he knew, watching with newfound dread as she pried two of his fingers off of her soft lips while somehow managing to keep her phone stable with just her pinky (Trent made sure to add this to her particular set of skills). 

“I. Told. You!” she whispered, giddy from her win. “You didn’t wanna listen to me! You were all, oh, ‘blah blah blah knackered blah Liverpool blah,’ but I knew I was right! See?! Always listen to Black women!”

His eyes rolled again, and he was sure they almost got stuck in the back of his head from how hard he’d done it that time. Because– okay, he may have said that the trap she’d set for Mason and Alicia was knackered, but he definitely hadn’t said anything about his hometown, and he definitely hadn’t sprinkled in blahs like Maggi cubes. 

He was slammed with an epiphany just as he felt the urge to tell her to shut up. Hesitantly, as if he didn’t want the answer to have been so easy, Trent lifted her hand from his face by her wrist, remembering only then that she simply wasn’t as strong as him— despite the trickle of trepidation that her presence brought on. He looked at her newly limp wrist in shock, confused as to how he hadn’t done that a long time ago. 

He would investigate that some other time. He had ten minutes’ worth of jabs to get through.

“You got lucky. Don’t gas it,” he told her cynically, shaking his head. 

“It’s not gassing it if it’s true,” she sassed.

He scoffed. “Is so.”

She scoffed back. “Is so not.”

“Is so.”

“Is so not.”

“Is so.”

“Is so not.” 

“Is so to infinity.” He quirked a challenging brow at her. 

Her response was instantaneous, “Is so not to infinity, plus one.”

“You can’t do that,” he argued, incredulous, widened brown eyes following her every move as she reclaimed her hand from his and made to leave. He trailed after her, crouching past the window just as she did, all so she could hear his gripes. “Um! Hello! You can’t do that! I win! Your response sucked, so I win!”

“You suck,” she threw over her shoulder. 

“Stop taking what I say and saying it back to me, you lazy twat!”

“You’re a lazy twat.”

“Oh my God, I hate you.” 

It hadn’t been his first time telling her he despised her, and he doubted it would be the last. Though, no matter how much vexation he claimed to have against the girl, he refused to leave the job of getting Mason and Alicia together to just her. He wasn’t sure if she could take a break from whatever villainy she got up to in the daytime long enough to make things really happen, and he didn’t want to tempt fate. Not when Mason’s heart was on the line. Besides, and this thought was accompanied by a chill down his spine, it wasn’t as if she was the worst partner in the world. 

(The fact remained that she was carrying him big time.) 

Their goodbye came almost too quickly.

He had been watching the delicate twist of her wrists, unaware that his pulse had sped up the moment they’d found themselves on the corner three blocks from the Mount family residence, where they would eventually part. 

There, he’d felt the urge to brush his fingers against the inside of her wrist once more. He’d felt the urge to prove to himself that she was real, that he hadn’t hallucinated his begrudged partner-in-crime. He stayed quiet, unwilling to sit through minutes of whichever argument she would strike up once he told her his reasoning— because she would absolutely ask for his reasoning, being as she was thorough in her evilness. He could imagine her calling him a misogynist for not believing that women were real. He could imagine himself pointing out that he’d only implied that she wasn’t real. He could, also, imagine himself losing that argument on a technicality. And so, he stayed quiet. For his score’s sake and nothing more. 

She left without words, merely nodding and shooting him a finger gun— casually, as if it were something grown women typically did— before ducking into her Uber. 

He watched the silver Toyota veer off in stunned silence. 

Yeah. Definitely hallucinating.

[antiatuz]

[shepherds-of-haven]

Which of the characters would be the best at matchmaking/setting the MC up with someone else? I feel like Trouble would be an awesome wingman 👀

Good question! Let me think...

From best to worst wingman:

Lavinet: she lives for matchmaking, and she's extremely good at it, both in pairing the people in question up and nudging them towards realizing their feelings, but also in being subtle about it! I think the only time she's ever failed in this regard was when she didn't realize that her lady-in-waiting Clara had a secret paramour (her now-fiance Pendric), but had Clara told her about it, she would have helped them along then too 😌 (not that they really needed it lol)

Briony: she's not always as subtle as Lavinet, but she can't be matched in her sheer enthusiasm for facilitating ✨ true love ✨ and her bubbly "oh, X and Y should go on patrol together! 👀" can be read as casual and natural enough that many people won't pick up on her intentions! Some people still do, but in the right circumstances (like if they already like each other), this can still be more of a help than a hindrance!

Red: I think he can really be an excellent wingman, but the interest in meddling in other peoples' affairs/relationships isn't normally there... he doesn't want to be held responsible if the couple doesn't end up being compatible or if things end badly, so he'd prefer to be left out of it 😅 But if he does get involved or takes an interest enough, he's really very good at it!

Trouble: I think he's only a good wingman when he doesn't know he's being a wingman... It's like, if you tell him, "Hey Trouble, go over to that random person and talk to them on my behalf, I'm interested in them 👀" he would be quite bad at it... or even if you tell him, "Trouble, I have a crush on Briony" I don't think he's the best person to engineer that matchup, partially because he's really bad at concealing his true thoughts and feelings and being deceptive, so he's going to make things quite obvious... but if you don't tell him about these things ahead of time, he is somehow amazing at inadvertently hyping you up to a person or casually throwing the two of you together that he's quite the matchmaking savant!

Shery: she is emotionally perceptive, #1 shipper in the Order (like she LIVES to ship, she LIVES to matchmake and squeal quietly when things are going well between the two of you), and subtle enough to be a great matchmaker if you want her to quietly orchestrate/engineer situations from behind the scenes... just DON'T ask her to go over and like woo someone for you by proxy, the way some wingpeople are expected to do! Other than that, though, she's quite successful, and can lie surprisingly well--at least enough to not to give away your secrets!

Chase: like Red, the talent and ability are there, but the interest isn't always... like he's always notice if two people are into each other or if they would be a good match, but he has surprisingly little interest in helping to facilitate this unless 1) he's specifically asked or 2) he's already good friends with both parties. Unlike Lavinet or Briony, he won't bestir himself to get involved in the case of two recruits, but he will if it's, like, MC and Trouble. And even if one of those conditions are met, he's so unpredictable that sometimes he can have incredible success rates, or he can use the knowledge for Evil, like deliberately pairing you in awkward situations or calling you out in front of your crush just to make you squirm because he's a troll and is greatly amused by doing things like asking "who do you think is the best-looking person in this room, MC?" (knowing full well that they're trying to hide a crush on so-and-so) or full-on inventing situations to make drive one of the crushes into such a jealous fit that they HAVE to act, or daring them to kiss each other while playing an "innocent" card game... the man gives no fucks. He will get you results like 95% of the time, but the process of getting there is chaotic and you have to be so courageous to put that faith in him and endure it in the meantime 😩

Ayla (tied with Tallys?): her method of being a wingwoman literally just involves walking up to the person in question, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder, and saying bluntly, "MC is into you (and/or wants to bang). Are you into MC?" In terms of subtlety, this is horrible, but it cuts straight to the chase and works like 50% of the time because most of the time, the people already like each other or are up for it lol, so she's not the worst to ask for this!

Tallys (tied with Ayla?): I think she's far more subtle than Ayla, but she might actually go opposite way in that she might be too subtle... not only do Elves tend to move quite slowly when it comes to other people's relationships (lack of time/urgency), but the way she'd pair people up/try to "nudge" them towards each other (like hyping MC up to someone they like) might be so subtle and low-key that it would probably fly over a lot of people's heads, especially if you were dealing with someone like a Trouble or an Ayla--like "yeah, I agree, MC is the best, why are you... telling me that" Tallys, trying harder: "I think they'd make for an ideal romantic partner, wouldn't you agree" Trouble: "......oh shit, does MC know you're in love with them??"

Riel: okay, I think if the interest were there, he'd dominate this list--his knowledge of people, their psychology and body language, and his ability to manipulate situations (particularly social dynamics) to suit his needs would put him at the very top of the matchmakers, matched (haha) only by Lavinet in that she's much more natural about engineering these things than he is. However, he could give less of a shit about interfering in anyone's relationships unless it suits some larger purpose of his or benefits him in some way... Otherwise, if you ask him to "talk to Shery on your behalf and encourage a love match between the two of you" he'll just give you his 😒 face and tell you to do it yourself

Blade - Halek: these two are tied for absolute worst. Just don't even bother. "Wingman" doesn't even exist in the vocabulary of words that Blade understands and Halek will just groan and grumble so much about what a hassle you've placed on him that you're literally better off using Caine than you would be for either of them. (Let's not forget that Blade is usually 1) your boss and 2) main enforcer of the "don't date other Shepherds" rule so it's just not a good idea to ask him to not only look the other way about breaking that rule, but to go even farther and ask him to be your wingman LOL the sheer audacity)

[renaultphile]

Wingmen Ensan Case

Fred Trusteau quietly seething when the new guy takes over his beloved war diary and messes it up is the sweetest thing ever. Don't worry he's back writing the diary again in the next chapter.

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

I just wanted to say thank you so, so much for the Wingmen recommendation 💖 I doubt if I would have found this book by accident and I loved it so much!! I have just finished the book and I am struggling to string a sentence together right now, still processing. So I thought I would ask you your thoughts on the book and why you like it so much!

Oh, I'm so glad you liked it!

While The Charioteer is probably my favorite novel ever, Wingmen is not far off from the top spot. As a historian, I always say good historical fiction can teach you a lot, and I did learn by reading Wingmen. The author clearly knew the stuff he was writing about: the aircraft, the dates, the battles, the Navy lifestyle, the whole war effort... It's all detailed and realistic, a really immersive experience. Even if the romance is the main draw, this is a true military fiction work.

And the romance. I love Fred and Jack. Case wanted to raise the bar for gay characters in the genre, and he achieved this. Notice that in spite of the period and the prejudices, this isn't a story about homophobia — it's a war story with a love affair. Yeah, Fred and Jack eventually suffer from prejudice, but the main point is that they are warriors. A warrior couple, as Eric Patterson described them, willing to sacrifice themselves for each other, and whose love was built around a strong sense of mutual respect.

Despite the realism, the plot isn't just a bunch of events following each other. It works in a carefully crafted crescendo, it has rhythm, and it's very satisfying to follow. The battle scenes are incredible; I remember being so tense when I was reading them for the first time! The author is also never dismissive towards women or Japanese people (despite some characters presenting period-typical takes), which is refreshing for a 1970s book of this kind. He was cautious when it comes to love scenes between the main characters, but that can be excused (particularly if you’re used to Mary Renault).

And I have to say I find Duane Higgins a fascinating character. Unlike Fred and Jack, you never really know what is going on inside his head (but I have some theories!).

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: November 8…

The Bears are awoken in the middle of the night by a Red-Tippered Larkatoo, a rare and loud bird, and if they want to get some sleep back, they need to find the bird a mate by setting up an all-animal prom. “Wingmen” premiered on this day, 6 Years Ago.