"Can't wait to see where you take this story" well I can't wait to see where this story takes me either

you must think about john egan. always.

Masters of the Air characters as aesthetics

John 'Bucky' Egan

Bucky was a golden hour, warm hues of gold and amber casting a soft, ethereal glow over everything. Giggles and banters over a sip of liquor. He was a low hum in a pub, filled with chatter and joy. Bucky was a worn sheepskin jacket, familiar and comforting. Waves crash against rugged cliffs, vivid colors pop against a backdrop of blue skiess. He was gentle and dominating, yet he asked to be taken care of behind closed doors. Back arching high against the bed sheet, hands pinned and left marks everywhere. He was a smoky jazz club alive with the sound of saxophones and clinking glasses, the sound of people laughing so loud until the stomach hurts. Grass stained knees. Running through the rain without an umbrella. He was classical music blasting from a cheap speaker. He was Apollo playing his instruments.

Gale 'Buck' Cleven

Buck was a calm before a storm. A misty forest enveloped in fog, with towering trees draped in moss and winding paths leading to hidden glens and secret clearings. He was both silent movies and thunderstorms that you'd feel inside your chest. Raised eyebrows and cold hands, pinching the bridge of your nose. Watching a painting a bit too long before the gallery was closed. Long walks to the library. Winter winds and freezing hands, subtle glances across the room. He was soft murmur of reassurance and a gentle touch behind the doors. Consensual and always asked if it's okay. Dark red lipstick, chilled red wine. A quaint cottage nestled in the countryside with a thatched roof and ivy-covered walls, surrounded by a garden bursting with fragrant herbs and vibrant flowers. He was Hestia tending the sacred flames.

Harry 'Croz' Crosby

Harry was the swirling feelings in your stomach night before a trip. A vintage typewriter sitting on a weathered wooden desk, surrounded by stacks of yellowing paper and antique books. The soft autumn sun. He was handwritten letters and cracked statues. Silver waves lapping at the shore and seashells scattered across the sand like scattered jewels. The rattling of rain against the window, messy and needed direction. He was scribbles and ink stains, messy notebooks, and the tea kettle whistling in the silent morning. He was urgent and hurry, but comforting afterwards. He was everything about pleasure behind closed doors. A disheveled bedroom with rumpled sheets and discarded clothing strewn across the floor, with posters peeling off the walls and sunlight filtering through grimy windows. He was Poseidon guarding with his trident.

Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

Rosie was a vintage record player spinning vinyl records, filling the room with the warm crackle of music. He was sweet smiles and clear eyes. Paper planes. Overgrown rose bushes. That one song you always skipped but ended up loving it. He was tweed jackets and loose blouses. A field of wildflowers stretching out as far as the eye can see, with colorful blooms dancing in the breeze and the scent of earth and pollen filling the air. Gentle and nurturing, caring and soft behind the doors. He was a giver and always maintained satisfaction. He was pink-tinted blush. A pair of combat boots scuffed from countless adventures. Smiling at strangers on the street. He was all kind and modesty, but also Athena leading battles.

Love y’all going unhinged in the tags on that last Callum post lol

The way I had to blink hard and shy away from my phone

lights camera bitch smile

bucky egan & buck cleven – mota 1x07

listen I'm packing and sending John out to the nicest Scottish rural area with just the wide open grass, sheeps, fogs in the mornings with sun peeking through the clouds - you know somewhere like wherever the Bennets from Pride and Prejudice live - and he's gonna stay there and live and learn to just breathe and to just Be and we'll set him up with a therapist and we're gonna LEAVE HIM ALONE UNTILL HE SAYS OTHERWISE

A month later and I still stand by this post

Realizing Bubbles was Jack's navigator, and then Jack tries to get Harry the group navigator position after Harry led the group because Bubbles as sick, and then Harry gives it to Bubbles. And then Bubbles goes up so Harry can recover, and then Harry asks Jack if he can really do this job, and Jack says "no". When he'd already offered Harry the job once before and when his original navigator is about to go up again. And then Bubbles doesn't come back.

You think Jack and Harry ever just got absolutely shitfaced about losing Bubbles and just sit in silence staring at the wall together?

You think Jack visited Bubbles in the infirmary, and Bubbles talked about how great Crosby was and how he'd be great as group nav because they're about to lose the other guy?

Anyway, I'm fine. This is fine. Everything's fine.

Masters of the Air should have followed Just A Snappin’ on the Bremen mission. I can’t believe we didn’t get to see it.

Give me ultra competent pilot Blakely. Always calm Jack Kidd. Crosby and Douglass almost getting hit.

Give me Crosby managing to find a place for them to land in England. The crash into the tree.

Then give me Douglass getting promoted to Group Bombardier at the same time Crosby got promoted to Group Navigator.

Accounts of this mission can be found here:

And here:

And in Crosby’s book A Wing and a Prayer

I love whenever someone's got sources on this stuff. I don't know the air stuff nearly as well as the ground stuff, and half the fun of HBOWar is that there's always someone who knows some shit and is ready to go. It's so fun!

MASTERS OF THE AIR (2024) ↳ part two

In another life?

I don’t think so.