#bloody 100th

[kiinghanalister]

the real Gale Clevens is so unserious lmao

Cleven was in the vulnerable low squadron--so called the Coffin Corner, the last and lowest group in the bomber stream. Cleven's plane was being shredded by enemy fighters. Cleven's co-pilot panicked and prepared to bail out. Cleven ordered his co-pilot to stay put. His words were heard over the interphone and had a magical effect on the rest of the crew. They stuck to their guns. His actions that day at Regensburg were said to 'electrify the base'. Lt. Col. Bierne Lay (who would later write the famous 'Twelve O'Clock High) recommended Cleven for a Medal of Honor. This was downgraded to a DFC, but Cleven never went to pick up the medal, claiming he didn't deserve it. He was quoted as saying, "Medal, hell, I needed an aspirin".

LT RONALD HOLLENBECK STATES: CLEVEN BUZZED THE TOWER WITH MY AIRPLANE WITH ALL FOUR ENGINES FEATHERED. THAT’S THE KIND OF GUY CLEVEN WAS. I HAD JUST GOTTEN A COUPLE ENGINE REPLACEMENTS, AND HE DIDN'T GET TO FLY TOO MUCH BEING SQUADRON CO, SO HE COMES OVER AND SAYS; "HOLLENBECK LET ME FLY YOUR AIRPLANE FOR YOU, I'LL PUT SOME SLOW TIME ON IT" AND THE NEXT THING I KNEW, IS THIS GOD D--N B-17 WAS COMING ACROSS JUST ABOUT 25 FEET OFF THE RUNWAY AND I LOOKED UP AND ALL 4 ENGINES WERE FEATHERED. HE (CLEVEN) SAID "I WANTED TO DO THAT ALL MY LIFE."

Then followed the usual pattern of interrogations, before eventually being moved to Stalag Luft III in Sagan on 23rd October 1943 at 9 a.m. Not long after he was joined by his old buddy John Egan- the other 'Bucky'- who had been shot down two days after Cleven on the Munster raid and famously greeted him with the words 'What the Hell took you so long?' 

Majors John “Bucky” Egan of the 418th Bomb Squadron (BS) and Gale “Buck” Cleven of the 350th, exuded the dash and audacity often associated with aviators. Their skills as pilots were matched by their personalities. Both were described as “debonair”; with white scarves and a Hollywood swagger, they were frequently the center of attention at the Silver Wing. Larger than life, other pilots idolized them as both served as the “heart and soul” of the Group. 

#mota #masters of the air #bloody 100th

[spinteresting]

how did you like both mota books? do you recommend them? thinking of purchasing both because my library doesn’t hold either but i’d like to get the opinion of someone who’s read them

I listened to the audiobook for Masters of the Air. It is a big picture history of the 8th Air Force with specific stories sprinkled throughout. It’s a fantastic book. I feel like I understand so much more about the WW2 Air Force and the politics surrounding it. It also had some great insights about the European theater in general. It is a history book, so know that going in. I would definitely recommend it and I enjoyed the audiobook.

A Wing and a Prayer is Harry Crosby’s memoir of his experiences in the 100th Bomb Group. It’s a much more personal account and is structured more narratively. It covers so much more than the show did. I LOVED this book. It’s incredibly well written. It has a lot of heart and reflection in it, but Crosby can also be quite funny. I couldn’t put this book down. Highly recommend! I read an ebook and plan to purchase a physical copy because I loved it so much.

#masters of the air #a wing and a prayer #harry crosby #bloody 100th #ww2 history #book recs #ask bee

[major-mads]

Thorpe Abbotts Airbase

Places of Interest in Masters of the Air

Masterlist

The Thorpe Abbotts Airbase/Airfield is located just outside of the village of Thorpe Abbots in Norfolk, England. It was specifically built for the 100th Bomb Group when they came to join the war effort. Flyers with the 100th were set to start arriving in June of 1943, so the engineers and builders had to even out the ground, lay miles and miles of concrete, and build the intricate roads and buildings of the base very quickly.

Many locals did not support the building of the base because it encroached on their farmlands. While the British were happy the Americans were joining the fight, there were definite feelings of animosity towards the 'yanks' (as they call Americans), but most of those faded when the Brits met the airmen who occupied the base.

Donald Miller: Masters of the Air, pgs. 1-2

"Thorpe Abbotts, an American bomber base some ninety miles north of London and a short stroll from the Norfolk hamlet that gave it its name. Station # 139, as it was officially designated, with its 3,500 fliers and support personnel, was built on a nobleman's estate lands, and the crews flew to war over furrowed fields worked by Sir Rupert Mann's tenant farmers, who lived nearby in crumbling stone cottages heated by open hearths. Thorpe Abbotts is in East Anglia, a history-haunted region of ancient farms, curving rivers, and low flat marshland. It stretches northward from the spires of Cambridge, to the high-sitting cathedral town of Norwich, and eastward to Great Yarmouth, an industrial port on the black waters of the North Sea. With its drainage ditches, wooden windmills, and sweeping fens, this low-lying slice of England brings to mind nearby Holland, just across the water. It is a haunch of land that sticks out into the sea, pointed, in the war years, like a raised hatchet at the enemy. And its drained fields made good airbases from which to strike deep into the German Reich. A century or so behind London in its pace and personality, it had been transformed by the war into one of the great battlefronts of the world, a war front unlike any other in history (Miller, 2007, pgs. 1-2)."

tag list: @ronald-speirs @footprintsinthesxnd @georgieluz @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @gloryofwinter

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! <3

#thorpe abbotts #gale cleven #john egan #masters of the air #gale buck cleven #major buck cleven #major john egan #rosie rosenthal #1940s #8th air force #mota #road to masters of the air #about masters of the air #hbo war #thorpe abbotts air base #100th bombardment group #100th bomb group #bloody hundredth #bloody hundredth bomb group

[mads-weasley]

#i got 3/4 of the way done with BoB and then the obsession hit #now i have had the book for like 4 days and am over 1/3 of the way done with it #its so good #i've also ordered a book by Frank Murphy that's about the bloody 100th alone #its called luck of the draw #i'm so excited #masters of the air #mota #callum turner #masters of the air memes #hbowar memes

[mads-nixon]

100th Bomb Group Info

I was doing some research and found the AMAZING 100th Bombardment Group Foundation website which has a database where you can look up airmen, planes, crews, missions, and just about anything having to do with the 100th. It's really an awesome resource!

You can access the database here!!

#masters of the air #100th bombardment group #100th bomb group #13th combat wing #8th air force #mighty eighth air force #mighty eighth #bloody hundredth #hbowar #mota #masters of the air research #ww2 research #research #100th bomb group foundation #100th bomb group database

[thatsrightice]

“We were more afraid of [LeMay] than Hitler.”

— Gale “Buck” Cleven

#damn. #SOURCE: Masters of the Air by Donald L. Miller #gale buck cleven #gale cleven #buck cleven #masters of the air #mota #real mota #colonel LeMay #Curtis LeMay #aviation #8th air force #bloody hundreth #100th bomb group #quote #quotes #I listen to the audiobook so I don’t have the page number sorry :(

[precious-little-scoundrel]

EXCUSE ME? We are getting Gable™️ mustaches from just about everyone in this?! Even the blonde cherub? Truly the female gaze was prioritized in the making of this production, or maybe that’s just the 40’s swag for ya.

#gale cleven #major fake Cleven #Buck Cleven #masters of the air #mota #hbo war #austin butler #the bloody 100th

[mattykelevra]

Masters of the Air

#masters of the air #b 17 bomber #b 17 flying fortress #boeing b 17 flying fortress #the bloody 100th

[zvaigzdelasas]

Major coordinated demonstrations took place across the world on Saturday to mark the 100th day of Israel's bombardment and military assault on the people of the Gaza Strip that have now claimed the lives of nearly 24,000 Palestinians, a large majority of them innocent men, women, and children who had nothing to do with the attacks orchestrated by Hamas on October 7 of last year.

In London, as many as 500,000 people marched on Parliament Square to demand an immediate cease-fire Gaza, condemn their own U.K. government's support of Israel's disproportionate and "genocidal" onslaught, and warn against a wider regional war that experts warn is creeping closer by the day.[...]

In Dublin, organizers of a march that saw more than 100,000 march through city streets called it the largest rally for Palestinian rights in Irish history.[...]

The crowd was filled with Palestinian flags, posters calling for an "End to the Gaza genocide" as well as makeshift washing lines, with baby clothes hanging from it, representing the many young lives lost in the conflict.

At the front of the march, four people held mock corpses in bloody body bags to represent the growing number of civilian casualties.

In the United States, tens of thousands marched in Washington, D.C. to denounce the Israeli onslaught—which has claimed over 23,000 lives, including more than 10,000 children—as well as their own government's complicity in the carnage. President Joe Biden was on the tip of many demonstrators' tongues and polls in the U.S. have shown very little support across the political spectrum for how he is handling the situation.[...]

Following the march, demonstrators left a pile of bloodied baby dolls, including severe parts, in a pile outside the White House as a message to Biden. "The blood of the over 10,000 murdered children in Gaza is on his hands," said CodePink co-founder Jodie Evans.

Meanwhile, in Indonesia, thousands gathered outside the U.S. embassy in Jakarta to condemn the ongoing "genocide" in Gaza perpetrated by Israel with the backing of the U.S. government and other Western allies.

Large protests were also held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia as well as in the South African cities of Cape Town and Johannesburg. [...]

Cities in Israel were not among those holding large-scale demonstrations against the government's ongoing military campaign in Gaza. One application by Israelis for a rally in Haifa to denounce the onslaught was rejected.

13 Jan 24

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Due to increasing average lifespans, the queen of England declared that only 100 more cards celebrating 100th birthdays would be sent. Because of this, the elderly population took to the streets, doing their bloody best to narrow down the competition and secure themselves a spot, no matter the cost.

#dream #queen of england #birthday #birthday card #card

[faerygrant]

cellophane - toxic carmy

nsfw

౨ৎ Carmy who pushes you away for the first two months under the guise of selflessness, because he believes you deserve better than him.

౨ৎ Carmy who finds himself becoming more and more infatuated with you. Your charm, smell, laughter, it’s all encompassing.

౨ৎ Carmy who notices the glint in your eyes whenever the two of you would make eye contact.

౨ৎ Carmy who ceases any and all contact with you when he finds himself increasingly drawn to you.

౨ৎ Carmy who busies himself with work, pushing himself to the limit, to the point where he’s experiencing migraines, bloodied fingers and aching muscles.

౨ৎ Carmy who believes working himself to death is the only way to keep himself from thinking romantic thoughts of you and staying atop his game.

౨ৎ Carmy who berates you over the phone in a moment of rage when you call him for the 100th time that week, worried for his well-being (Richie had called you).

౨ৎ Carmy who in a moment of weakness and vulnerability following another sleep walking mishap, asks you to come over after weeks of ghosting and radio-silence.

౨ৎ Carmy who gets you into bed, licking you raw as an apology for the way he treated you, till you’re an overstimulated, whining mess begging for him to stop, to which he refuses, not until he feels that he deserves to.

౨ৎ Carmy who finally gets inside you after an hour of worshipping your cunt, immediately the pleasure taking over him, making him forget all his troubles and worries.

౨ৎ Carmy who in a moment of utter vulnerability mutters into your ears, that he loves you as he paints your walls white with his seed.

౨ৎ Carmy who doesn���t even wait for your reply before he realises what he’s said and is immediately pulling out of you and asking you to leave.

౨ৎ Carmy who realises after a month of silence from you that he’s complete fucked everything up.

౨ৎ Carmy who stalks your Instagram daily, only to find one Saturday evening that you were out with some dickhead at a local bar.

౨ৎ Carmy who gets overcome with a sense of jealousy he’d never felt before in his entire life, possessiveness even.

౨ৎ Carmy who shows at your apartment later that night to remind you who you belong to.

-

“Did you fuck him?” Carmen asks you bluntly, cigarette in hand, and hair disheveled.

“Carmy what the fuck are you doing at my house at 2 in the morning?” You question him as you cross your arms defensively.

“ I asked you a fucking question, y’gnna answer me?” He persists, throwing his cigarette onto the floor before stubbing it out and coming closer to the door.

“Why does it matter, you fucking ghosted me!” You yell at him, looking deep into his blue eyes.

“It fuckin matters because someone is trying to take what’s mine.” He blurts and you genuinely don’t know whether to cry or laugh.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #the bear fic #reader x carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic

[kiinghanalister]

If you like Masters of the Air, I recommend reading this article about the real 100th. It's so cool.

Highlights of the article:

Croz being a romantic classical music loving guy, got the whole formation not to bomb the birth place of Beethoven, going against orders and managed not to be court martialed for it.

Egan and Cleven acting like total hot shots.

Croz deviated from a planned route cause of weather and forgot to relay it via the required radio report. Instead of the expected court martial he gets awarded a flying cross cause the change prevented German interceptors from getting info about the bombers.

#mota #bloody 100th #history #masters of the air

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Who did this to you?

Buck Cleven X Nurse! Reader

Summary: When a patient attack Buck's girl, he's worried about his girl.

Warning: violence/ blood/ use of Y/n/ choking/

Word count: 800 words.

Buck and Y/n were together, but they didn’t like to show it in public. Sometimes, at dances for example, they would dance together, but that was it. Since she was a nurse and he was a pilot, they were really busy all the time. Especially today, the 100th just came back from a bloody mission and Y/n had patient to treat. She was assigned on Edward Monroe’s case. He had pieces of flak in his leg, and he hit his head, so he was unconscious. The pieces were easy to remove, he had 4 big part and multiple small ones. Since he was unconscious, it was fast. But what Y/n didn’t know, was that the man was starting to wake up. Edward was afraid, he didn’t know where he was, and it made him panic.

The door flew open, and the men looked at the nurse that entered the room. She was in shock. ‘’Help, something happened’’ she panted. Buck and Bucky were the first one to get up. ‘’What happened?’’ Colonel Harding asked the nurse. ‘’A patient attacked Y/n, and we can’t get him off her’’ she said. As soon as the name of his girlfriend was mentioned, Buck started to run. When he entered the medical center, he saw the military police with a man, it was pure chaos. Bucky arrived a little bit after and went to talk to the M. P’S, Buck was looking for his girlfriend. ‘’Laura? Where’s Y/n?’’ he asked a nurse. She pointed to a small room; it was a big storage closet. He walked towards it, hoping his girl was okay. When he opened the door, he saw Y/n. Blood dripping from her nose, her eyes were filled with blood since the man choked her so hard. She had bruises on her neck, you could see his hands printed on her neck. When she looked at him, her heart sank.

‘’Oh, my darling, are you okay? What happened, who did this to you?’’ he kneeled in front of her. When she tried to talk, nothing came out, only raspy breaths. He had bruised her vocal cords. She took a piece of paper and wrote on it. ‘I’m better now that you’re here. Edward Monroe attacked me; he was unconscious and then he jumped at my throat.’ When Buck read this, his heart broke a little, but his fist clenched, that son of a bitch hurt his girl. Bucky came behind his friend, he jumped a little when he saw the state of Y/n. ‘’They’re going to arrest him for assault’’ he said. Y/n shook her head, trying to talk, but it was useless. She quickly wrote on another sheet of paper. ‘No! He was just scared. He didn’t mean to hurt me!’ Buck smiled when he read this. She was always so thoughtful and caring. ‘’Y/n, he almost killed you, he deserves it’’ Bucky said. Even though it pained her to admit it, he was right. She simply nodded as she got up, with the help of the two men. ‘’Here, I’ll take care of you’’ Buck said, walking towards an empty room filled with medical stuff. She sat on the bed as he opened the cabinets to take what he needed.

‘’Okay, try to talk, slowly’’ he said, gently holding her neck. She took a deep breath before trying to talk. ‘’Hi’’ her voice was raspy and breathy. ‘’My name is Y/n’’ she continued, still with her shaky, raspy voice. He encouraged her with a smile and small nods. ‘’It hurts’’ she whispered. ‘’I know, darling. You’re really brave. Don’t push yourself too much. We know you can talk, I’m proud of you’’ he said. She smiled and hugged him. She wanted to tell him how she was grateful for him and she wanted to thank him, but her voice didn’t allow it.

‘’You look better’’ Bucky sat on the couch as the couple smiled. ‘’Yeah, my voice is still sore’’ she said with a raspy voice. Her voice sounded like the voice you have after a cold. It was really better, but still it was painful for her to talk. ‘’Still, your eyes are less scary’’ he laughed. Y/n chuckled and looked at Buck, she smiled to him and took a sip of her drink. ‘’I’m happy to see her pretty eyes again’’ Buck confessed. Bucky smiled; he was happy to see his best friend happy with a woman.

#gale cleven x reader #austin butler major gale buck cleven #gale buck cleven #master of the air imagine #masters of the air

[major-mads]

Introducing Ruth Morgan...

From Charlotte, North Carolina, Ruth Morgan was a junior high English teacher when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in December of 1941. As months went by and more and more of her friends and colleagues joined the Nurse's Corps, Ruth felt like she could be doing more for her country. So, in May of 1942, she became one of the 70,000 American women to join the war effort and become nurses. Following her basic medical training, she was selected to become part of the new Flight Nurse program at the AAC School of Air Evacuation at Bowman Field, Kentucky, even though she was unsure of her ability. At Bowman Field in December of ‘42, she meets Hope Armstrong, a confident, smart, and strong-willed medical student from Missouri who quickly takes her under her wing, showing her the ins and outs of nursing. The duo finishes their flight nurse training and become part of the 806th MAETS, a section of the 9th Army Air Corps stationed at Berkshire, England. They soon flew in C-47s across Europe, evacuating Allied casualties to hospitals in Britain. It is here that their lives will change forever when they are forced to land at a small village in East Anglia called Thorpe Abbotts.

You can find more information about Hope Armstrong here on the wonderful @footprintsinthesxnd's page! We're so excited to share our girls with y'all!! <3

Message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

#masters of the air #hbo war #john egan #road to masters of the air #gale cleven #callum turner #austin butler #rosie rosenthal #major buck cleven #gale buck cleven #johnny egan #masters of the air x oc #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #mota x oc #ww2 #8th air force #bloody hundredth bomb group #100th bomb group #eighth air force #mota #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #mota collab #hbowar #hbowar x oc #hbo war x oc #hbo war imagine #hbo war edit

[deafsignifcantother]

the newest guest

♥ summary: ur alastor's pookie bear but like in an admiration way not a purely romantic way. "gaze softens as soon as it lands on you" - @urfriendlywriter ♥ relationship: alastor x gender neutral deaf reader ♥ word count: 1.7 ♥ notes: reader is stone deaf, attached alastor but like in a friendly way and not a yandere way, reader doesn't usually wake up early, alastor doodling

Whether it's the early morning or late at night, the red sky is the same. You and Alastor sit on his balcony, your ankles crossed from under the tea table, and he is copying your position. In his hand is a red mug. He has on his tight red suit while his red ears face forward.

"Now, I can't directly claim the hotel as mine, but I very much do my best to keep it running smoothly," he signs. He finds himself incapable of pushing down the feeling of mischief when he makes eye contact with you. You make him all the more astounded. You're staring at him as if he's an angel. Why are you staring at him with such admiration? It's frightening. His smile grows while the radio static tickles your skin more and more.

You sign to him, "You're doing a good job."

"Yes, I certainly am." He stares at you patiently while your eyes look around for what seems like the 100th time. Every time you look at the city, you notice something different. He doesn't know what you're looking for, but his eyes never follow; he just keeps staring at you.

When you don't turn to look at him again, he taps his nails against the table until your attention goes to him again. His smile grows. "Will you grant me the pleasure of knowing why you're here, my dear?"

"I want to see what it's like in here," your eyes glance at the windows and the bright lights on the roof. "And maybe I feel a little motivated to be good." He hears your throat make a soft, laugh-like noise as you continue, "You don't seem to be here for the same reason."

"Correct" is the only response. When you examine his face closer, you notice how sharp the ends of his teeth are and the multiple shades of red in his eyes. You nod, waiting for him to add anything else. He just stares at you with his usual wide eyes and dangerous smile.

.

He walks you back to your room as a gentleman should. He lets you lock your arms together as you two walk. Neither of you sign; you both just bask in peace. He always wondered what it would be like to live in silence.

The hallways last forever, and only a few doors are decorated. You both land at your doorstep and when you enter your room, he pushes you in before you can shut the door. The gust of wind his fast body produces brushes your cheek.

Okay, welcome in.

His eyes scan the room as if he hadn't been there before.

"This room is absolutely boring!" He signs with wide eyes as he turns and looks around the room. "What happened to the things I put up?"

He refers to the human skulls he had hung up on the walls and the long stream of bloody handprints, his handprints. Perhaps it was a form of affection, but you did not want it staining your walls.

You give him an eye roll while you shrug off your shoes. He watches you as you walk to the bed unmistakably. Being in your room offers pure relaxation and comfort, especially after he wakes you up at 5AM to have tea with him on the balcony. Before you can sit on the bed, the floor beneath you vibrates.

With a silent snap of his fingers, the bland, unaccustomed bed was replaced by a huge, fluffy-looking queen-size bed.

You glance back at him before switching your gaze to the new furniture. Since when could he do that?

He just stands idly in the middle of the room, creating new decor to impress you. What would his new little darling like next? A chair by the fireplace? A shelf for little trinkets, not human skulls this time?

You sit on the bed and see what the mattress and sheets feel like. Alastor hears the sound of your hums. His toothy smile widens. In the calm, radiating light of your room, his eyes can almost be mistaken for pink.

His mic taps the floor as the bed shakes, trying to grab your attention. Your eyes meet as he twirls the mic and signs with his other hand.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"It's comfortable, thank you."

His smile becomes close-lipped before he bows to you. "It's a joy to pleasure you, sweetheart."

"Of course." 

There's a slight pause. You wait for Alastor to continue, but he doesn't. He just stares with that familiar look in his eyes. With a tiny bit of shyness, you break the eye contact.

It's awful to think about him this way. He's giving you the world, apparent, but is it because he pities you? You think about that every single day while in the hotel. Your impulsive thoughts always tell you these people are only here for you because they pity you.

Is he going out of his way to make you feel better for that reason? And how does that make you feel?

"Anyway," he looks around the room for a final time. "What are our plans for today?"

"Our?" The sign is flighty. With the sign comes the tired look in your eyes; your body calls for you to sleep. A million thoughts go through his head. He stares, and you shrink while his eyes burn into you. It's how he looked at you when you first entered the hotel. Your eyes flickered around the room, taking in every detail as quickly as possible. You counted the number of people in the room while counting them in your head. How many people would you have to teach some sign to? Who has five fingers? Who looks like they'd learn the fastest? By the sight of you, Charlie brought you into a hug, and Alastor appeared behind you just as quickly. He held his microphone behind his back with his crossed arms. Who was this little one? Your eyes flickered up to his tall form. His eyes were burning into you.

He still stares at you this way.

"Yes, our! Would you not wish to spend your day with me?" His head tilts as his eyelids drop. Maybe him knowing sign meant that you are stuck with him.

You give him a small smile. "We do so many things all the time, how about we stay in here for just a little while before going out again."

"Absolutely!" He spins his cane with one hand while he signs. He taps is on the ground, removing his grip, his cane remaining in its place even when he lets go. "Such a brilliant idea, what should we do? Maybe a little game of rummy?" He summons a table with cards and sits at it, all the while you remain sitting on your bed with that same small smile.

"It's early."

"Yes indeed! It is much too early for a game of rummy, maybe that should be postponed into our later evening. Let me see? What could we possible do in this little room of yours?" He was about to snap his fingers to conjure something until you clapped at him, waving your hands, "nothing like that! Can we laze, or something?"

"Ah, a good 'break', as to say."

You turn away from him, hoping he'd catch your hint by laying down on the bed. It is impressively comfortable, more than you would have suspected, especially considering he most likely did it to his liking rather than assuming yours. Surrounded by the comfort of the untouched pillows, you close your eyes, waiting for him to startle you into opening them again.

But he doesn't.

He watches you from his place. Look at you, so tired, it's so cute. It doesn't deter him from his plans on waking you up to hang out with him tomorrow morning as well, but it is a bit charming to see. You feel safe enough in his presence to close your eyes around him. Why are you so comfortable? He teleports closer to you, trying his best to hide the close distance as he leans a bit closer. Your lashes flutter a bit.

Of course you knew how close he was. He is always blissfully unaware of his much his static tickles your skin. How funny would it be if you spring up and wrap your hands around him (obviously you wouldn't, but the impulse is amusing enough to entertain).

You remain there with eyes close, complete alert of what his next steps might be. He doesn't bother you, doesn't try and move you or interact with your space at all. Within no time, he is gone.

Well, he thinks to himself, the little fawn does need rest after all.

And one might remain vigilant and wary of any ulterior motives or hidden agendas behind the kindness being displayed. Wariness and relief are your main emotions when it comes to his patience with you. What does he get out of being so nice to you, is it because you are a guest? Avoiding harm is good, and you do experience his pestering as much as everybody else, but at least it's tolerable. He must appreciate that greatly. His larger scheme is entirely hotel-oriented, of course, but where does that place you?

Close to him, you assume. Perhaps he just likes to exercise his knowledge of ASL.

.

His sits in the lobby with a pen in his hand, drawing small figures on the pamphlet he's been trying to design. Charlie has come up with an amazing idea; handing out pamphlets! He has said that he will be the one to come up with a fantastical way of alluring people to the hotel, despite his teasing display of the hotel from his commercial. He does love expressing his creative side.

His behavior is a bit different than before you had arrived. The other guests, Vaggie and Husk in particular, took extreme notice in the fact that he's decided to spend his free time in the lobby rather than off in who-knows. He's waiting for your appearance. Everybody can sense it, even though he never glances at the stairs or even offers a twitch of his ears at the footsteps around him. He'll know when you arrive. He always does.

So when you finally land yourself at the top of the stairs, looking down at the lobby, staring at his tilted down head and his bouncing feet from the cushioned chair, you smile to yourself when he lifts his head. His concentrated gaze softens as soon as it lands on you. Within no time, he's folding the paper into his pocket and promptly pops up behind you, wrapping an arm around yours and leads you down the flight.

How excited he is to spend the rest of the day with you. It's cute.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader

[gloryofroses19]

Johnny Boy

“Let’s go, let’s go. Get the lead out boys!” Major John Egan ordered as he clapped his hands together.  

“Excited to see Harding that much, Major?” Ken Lemmings asked rhetorically, parking his jeep. 

“More like a certain lieutenant.” Blakey commented, lighting a cigarette.  “All I heard on the flight back was [y/n] this and [y/n] that. Almost as if we weren’t staring down the face of Nazi fighters.” 

Coming up behind Blakey, Douglass slapped Blakey on the back.  “Don’t be too jealous Blakey, maybe Tatty will forgive you for saying her sister is prettier.” 

“It was a joke!” 

“Jokes are meant to be funny, Ev.” Crosby deadpanned from his place on the ground. 

“Get in the truck, boys! This war ain’t gonna stop because of your romantic problems.” John Egan was not known for being a patient man. And at this moment, his patience was as thin as his fort’s wings, which were currently shot to shit thanks to the Luftwaffe.  

“You know all about romance, right Major?”  

With an eye roll, the Major squared his shoulders ready to yell at his men. However, his irritated expression softened as he watched two figures coming his way.

Noticing the attentive blue eyed gaze across the field, [y/n] smiled as she drew nearer. She had not planned to visit the airfield today. Despite knowing that the 100th Bomb Group would be out flying, she had intended to stay in her office. But when Johnny asked, with a hopeful request and a sweet smile, she knew she couldn’t say no. She seemed to have soft spots for Johns she mused, as a pair of small hands tightened their grip on her right hand. 

“She read me a book and colored with me!” 

Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the British voice informing him of how he was losing the battle for [y/n]’s attention. Six year old Johnny Baker was as formidable as the Germans,  the blonde had met Lieutenant [full name] on his first day moving to base and imprinted on her like any good duckling would. 

“And she said that she’ll watch me play footy!” 

However, Major John Egan was a flyboy and they were not so easily defeated. Crouching down to be eye-level with rival, the major crossed his arms. “Well, she told me I’m clever, funny and..." With a dramatic pause, he continued, "and handsome.” 

Stomping his foot at his competitor, the blonde took on a tone of conceited immaturity. “Well she told me that I give the best hugs!” 

“Well,” John mimicked, “She kissed me.” And with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Bucky added in a lyrical voice, “On the lips.” 

With a gasp and whine of her name, the blonde buried his face into [y/n]’s stomach as her hands patted his back comfortingly . 

“Are you really arguing with a child?” She asked sternly, as John stood up. “Again?” She pressed, restraining the grin trying to surface at his easy smile. The times she had found them competing for her affection were becoming too numerous to count. Just last week, she had to kiss him better when he scraped his knee racing Johnny across the blacktop of the airfield.  She was thankful he was kind enough to let her kiss his lips instead of his bloodied knee. 

“No, I’m not arguing with a child.” John watched Johnny stick his tongue out at him, “He’s arguing with me.” With a chuckle, he mirrored the action back at Johnny.  

Alive and as charming and tenacious as ever she reflected, assessing his wellbeing . The weight of the war had become harder to bear on their shared tree branch as more flyboys left and didn’t come back. She hadn’t realized her breath had been stalled in fear of his safety until she felt herself lose it again by his adoring look. 

John ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the evaluating look on her face “So where’s my reason?” 

“Where’s my souvenir?” She responded, meeting his unwavering gaze. It had become their greeting, a promise of a gift that kept them both grounded.

Removing his head from her stomach, Johnny looked up. A pout sprouted on his lips as the adults seemingly ignored him, focusing instead on making what his big cousin Susie called “googly eyes”. With a tug to her hand, Johnny whined. “[nickname]!” 

John watched as [y/n] turned her attention to the baby duck calling her name. The blonde’s hair had become ruffled as feathers from his fight for her attention and John knew like any mama bird she would fix it. However, she wasn’t a duck, she was a different bird. His bird to be exact so the only hair she would be fixing would be his curls. Therefore, before her raised hand could fix the strays, an Army Air Corps Officer cap covered Johnny's head. 

Taking advantage of his enemy’s distraction, John’s hand gripped [y/n]’s face and momentarily brushed his lips against hers. While a moment on the lips, it spoke of tenderness, love and promise for more. 

“Hey!” Removing the cap from his head, Johnny glared at the taller male who seemed wholly unperturbed.  

“What?” The innocence in his smile and tone betrayed the mischief inside. The bashful smile he sent her all but confirmed [y/n]'s suspicions. That he did always love when she ran her hands through his curls. And that he was jealous, even of a child. 

“Interrogation, Egan!” 

Bucky sighed theatrically at the commanding voice behind him. Though the sigh was a sign of acknowledgement, he made no move to leave. If anything it made him more resolute. 

“Jack,” Facing his fellow major, John motioned toward the pair at his side, “The good lieutenant and this fine soldier need a ride back to the HQ.”

Major Jack Kidd could use many adjectives to describe John Egan, however, since becoming Air Exec the most he would offer was 'a royal pain in my ass'. “Now, John!” 

Though Kidd didn’t seem to be moved, John pressed on. “We can’t just leave them, Jack.” 

Biting her lip, [y/n] attempted to maintain a neutral expression. His baritone voice was as pleasant as ever, but the tone of pleading reminded her of times when he pleaded for other things. Some which he had no shame in doing in front of other people, like a dance or smile, and some that were reserved for just the two of them, like a kiss and other intimate notions. 

Turning towards the gentle tug on his sheepskin’s sleeve, John leaned down. 

“Can we ride in the truck?” Johnny whispered poorly, allowing those close enough to hear. 

“If you look sad you can.” John replied conspiratorially, enjoying the giggle it elicited from [y/n] who’s attention had been off him for far too long. 

“Get in the truck, Egan.”  Though Kidd offered John a look of utter lack of amusement, he sighed.  One day he’ll learn to not wipe John’s ass, Jack promised himself.  “You too,” he finished gesturing toward the pair.

Breaking out into a wide smile, John’s hands wrapped around [y/n] and Johnny’s shoulders. Guiding them to the awaiting truck, John pulled himself into the truck bed first. With his attention on Johnny, John offered instructions where to put his feet and hands to safely enter the truck all the while, his hands gently hovering his smaller body to offer assistance if needed. 

Unbeknownst, [y/n]’s expression was soft in a way she only ever let it be around John. War was not the time to think of a future full of little feet and miniature giggles, but John Egan was a man who inspired hope. 

“Need help, Lieutenant?” A deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts.  Though capable and confident, [y/n] took the calloused hand that was offered to her. Allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of the sheepskin, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. 

“Think Cros can take him?” He whispered, nodding to the navigator currently being interrogated by the Brit. 

With a laugh, she guided John by the hand to his rightful place next to her on the truck's bench. Bumping her nose against his, she whispered, “You certainly weren’t.” 

John laughed gently and easily as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before taking her hand in his again. Pulling her as close as they could, he leaned into her ear. Planning to defend himself, the pilot opened his mouth but stopped when a sudden weight dropped on him. 

“Johnny!” 

Ignoring the scolding tone, the blonde pushed his body weight against Bucky and wedged himself between the pair. “You forgot your hat, Major.” Johnny mocked, throwing his hat at the elder. 

“Why you little….”

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! I appreciate all the positive feedback from my other works!

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