#birdie faulkner

[wexhappyxfew]

Hi! I love your Silver Bullets girls, and Carrie x Douglass has a special place in my heart (even more since your last writing with them). So, for them I'd like to ask 35. (kissing their bruises and scars) from the Touch prompt list or 5. (the last thing they're thinking about before falling asleep is always the other) from the Subtle love list. 💗

HI FRIEND!!!! thank you so much for sending this and i am so so glad carrie and dougie have meant a lot, alongside the Silver Bullets girls (it seriously means SO MUCH and i always say it but its true!!!) THANK YOU FOR THE OPTIONS TOO!!!! i couldn't help myself and went with the second prompt (5) and decided to focus on some of their earlier meetings with one another and how they've developed into the people today. let's just say, i had a lot of fun! thank you SO MUCH!!!!! :D this was so much fun! <3 (and sorry for the wait for this....the semester was its usual chaos haha!)

greenland

(a/n): safe to say, for my carrie x dougie enjoyers, this was FUN to write. we get a bit into life before the annie bradshaw era of silver bullets! WITH captain birdie faulkner. BUT, because i am a sucker for someone who haunts the narrative and is simply talked about, we don't actually meet birdie here, just hear about her as a leader and all (a running theme!). we also get a bit into the storyline of what dougie means when he said he wanted to ask carrie to 'dance in greenland in THIS PIECE. and also carrie's dislike for greenland lmfao. please enjoy!!! <3

Greenland was anything but green, it seemed.

Maybe that's why the Vikings called it that - to freak the living fuck out of any sort of enemy that was bound to come this way and make them mistake what was actually a stupid ice block for well - 'green land'.

The landing had been less that superb and Captain Faulkner had dismissed them all to the bar to the left of the tarmac for the rest of the evening off.

Birdie Faulkner was everything, including a realist, and she seemed to understand that the rather harrowing conditions of their landing was something that required at least a drink or two before bedding down for the night.

With a half-finished beer, Carrie was sure that she could've fallen asleep in that very chair for the time being, but she had to present herself a best she could. With the newest B-17 group collected, Silver Bullets was formulated and crafted by that oh-so-brilliant mind of Birdie Faulkner, and they all had her to thank. And Carrie had to look a bit more put-together than usual - prove she's not just a wash-out bombardier with lackluster experience. That she deserved the spot in Silver Bullets more than anyone else.

"So?" a voice came from her right, settling into the other plush, leather seat at her side, the smiling face of Bessie Carlisle appearing as she popped open her own beer bottle, "Greenland, huh?" Carrie smirked and rolled her shoulders and glanced around.

"It's cozy, really," Carrie offered, "I'm considering taking a swim in the river, suntanning-"

"Okay, smart ass," Bessie said with a chuckle, her boot nudging her own foot, "can't say I'm complaining. Finally out of those training cycles, working towards the war. Maybe, we'll actually put ourselves to use instead of waiting just to go on a practice run." Carrie watched Bessie and then smiled widely.

"Love it so much that I may tell my future husband that 'Hey, we're moving to Greenland!', pack up the truck, babe, forget Brooklyn, home is where the grass is a solid as a fucking rock," Carrie said, sipping her beer, "not to mention the weather. I love to freeze."

"Someone's happy." a new voice chimed in, as Francis settled into a chair opposite them, sucking down a portion of her beer and grinning, "I've never seen you so enthusiastic about something." Carrie deadpanned.

"I'm really jumping for joy over here, Monty." Carrie told Francis, raising her glass of beer up in mock ceremony, "You know me so well." Francis and Bessie burst out into laughter as Carrie leaned back in her chair with a sigh and looked towards the ceiling.

"When the hell are we going to England?" Carrie asked, counting the flecks of rotting wood in the wooden ceiling, her eyes tracing the pieces that stuck out of the ceiling panels before losing her spot and recounting, "If I could just get another beer started, I'd be ready by tonight to head out. No pit-stops for me, I'm just fine with a beer stop and then jetting off to England and calling it a day."

"I wish I had the same energy towards that, Bergie, I really do," Bessie said, "afraid to say I'd ask for a few hours of sleep thought over that."

"Sleeps overrated half the time!" Carrie admonished still staring up at the ceiling, "How you gonna get a thing done when sleep's-"

"Exactly what you need." Carrie blinked a few times and into focus above her head came James Douglass - fellow bombardier, with whom Bessie had introduced on one of Carrie's first days after her transfer on base.

Carrie remembered first time seeing him coming towards them, with that carpet on his face he called a mustache, a sharp smirk, a rather loud, somewhat obnoxious voice, a quick hand-shaking, before he was wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pointing out to various areas along the base like they'd been friends for years - something that had caught her completely off guard. And ever since then, with their few chance meetings, they'd been nothing but a trifle of teasing jabs and somewhat good-natured fun.

Key word: somewhat.

Because she could never actually read James Douglass unlike Benny DeMarco or Hambone Hamilton who were just about as sweet to her as her grandma's hotcakes. He'd see her and beeline, make a few jokes, flirt shamelessly, and then go dance with the next girl who'd take his hand. He was quite the character and Carrie usually didn't engage in much conversation past when he'd come to seek her out.

Except now, he was hung above her like a hyperactive golden retriever, like the dog, Kering, that had lived down the street from the Achterberg's in Brooklyn all her life. Running out of the Wilkes house anytime the door opened, barking and sniffing and tearing around the neighborhood like a lunatic. Yeah, Kering the golden retriever who looked like he was a lunatic reminded her exactly of James Douglass.

Nice to know home was never far.

"What are you trying to say, huh?" Carrie asked, still slouching in the chair and staring up at him hovering over her. Douglass grinned at her, showing off his pearly whites and that charming look on his face and he let out a chuckle.

"You know, a little sleep never hurt a soul. Only reason we're even alive," Douglass said, reaching forward to rub her shoulder, "makes the brain happy or some shit. Makes people less….cranky."

"You calling me cranky, now?"

"Cranky. Now that's just one of many words-"

"Oh, you little-"

"Alright!" Bessie said standing and shoving Douglass pack from where he currently was occupying Carrie's headspace, "Nice to know some things never change." Carrie glanced at her as she sat up and Bessie raised a brow with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Douglass said from behind Carrie, before he moved around her chair and took the other open seat in the grouping of four, and kicking back to relax. Carrie watched Bessie before looking at Francis, who was rather interested in her cup of beer, before glancing at Douglass, who was already looking at her.

"What?" she murmured, before he made a face and she rolled her eyes.

"How was the flight over, Douglass? Invigorating?" Bessie asked Douglass, with a smile - leave it to Bessie to be sweet as cream on any given occasion.

"You woulda thought Greenland would be, well, fucking green-"

"That's what I said!" Carrie butted in, getting looks from the other three, before settling on Douglass who was watching her, with a mixture of interest and annoyance, but she couldn't seem to decipher the two and sank back in her chair, "Greenland's cold as fuck, not some East Coast paradise I'll give ya that." She heard Douglass chuckle at that as Carrie took in more sips of beer.

"With the way we were flying in, I wasn't even sure we were gonna make it at first, I'll tell you that," Douglass said, "you sit in that nose and you swear to God that you'll smash right into the tarmac. Good ole Ev Blakely don't let that sorta stuff happen though."

"Yeah, a real crap shoot." Carrie muttered, "Thought Birdie was gonna bring us in sideways." Douglass raised a brow as he sipped his beer.

"Guess you can say they lied about the fucking weather, too," Douglass offered, "really nice place here. Could barely move my fingers and toes when I actually stood up fully." Bessie let out a chuckle and started sipping her beer again as Carrie narrowed her eyes at her.

"Hey, they're putting on some music to dance, y'all wanna come?" Judy Rybinski's joyfully said as she appeared behind Francis, "C'mon Bessie, I know that look anywhere, you wanna!"

"You know me too well, Jude," Bessie said, getting to her feet and finishing off her beer.

"I'm coming with! No shot I'm missing a chance at good music and good company." Francis said getting to her feet, "The company part may be a stretch-"

"Oh c'mon!" Judy said, taking Francis' hand before looking at Carrie and Douglass unmoved in their chairs, "You two coming?"

"I'm going to continue working on these beers, Jude, but I appreciate it," Carrie said, "Greenland's officially fucked me up." Judy let out a chuckle.

"You enjoy that then, Bergie," Judy said before looking at Douglass, "Dougie?" Carrie glanced sideways at Douglass who sat quietly, before glancing over at Carrie and then Judy again.

"Maybe next time," he said with a nod, "I promise you a dance, got it?"

"Sounds good! Don't have too much fun!" Judy called before she disappeared and some Artie Shaw began playing over the speakers.

"Good to know we have one thing in common, Bergie." Carrie slowly looked over at Douglass, that annoying nickname rolling off his lips like it had before, "We both hate Greenland." And he grinned at her and couldn't help but smirk back.

"First off, don't call me that. Second, you might be right about that," Carrie said, sipping her beer again, "you know that it's called Greenland because of the Vikings?" Douglass let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"Nah, you're fucking with me," he said, "the Vikings? The guys with the horns on their heads?"

"I'm not kidding," Carrie said sitting up and fully meeting his gaze for the first time since he had hung overtop her, "I swear to you, they did it. Tricking their enemies. For the sake of how much can they fuck a person in the head." Douglass watched her for a moment, before letting out a laugh and sipping his beer again, before smirking.

"Maybe they were just being smart," Douglass countered, "before they knew that it was just one sheet of ice for miles on end. Then they realized what a shitty name Greenland was." Carrie stared at him for a moment, before smiling slightly, unable to hold back her grin.

"You really know how to get under my skin, don't ya?"

"Guess you could say I know what makes you tick."

"Oh so now you suddenly know everything about me, huh?" Carrie said, leaning over to give his shoulder a playful shove, "Well, go on, what's my favorite color?" She watched him and noticed him glance at her lips - surprisingly - before moving back to her eyes.

"I don't know….blue probably." Carrie watched him and stilled for a moment.

"Uh….yeah, actually." she said quickly, and forced down the way her cheeks flamed (and for what she didn't know), "Alright, well, where do I come from?"

"Brooklyn." Douglass said, laughing at the look on her face, "Look, sweetheart, that New York accent ain't just a voice with Southern twang. I know if I was walking down the streets, and I heard your voice, it'd be you."

"God, what the hell." murmured Carrie as Douglass chuckled, "You won't get this - school subject." Douglass looked at her and then smirked before leaning forward.

"Something with math, right?" he asked her confidently, "You don't just get interested in this sorta shit without having some interest there." Carrie watched him and tilted her head.

"Are you mind-fucking me or something?" she asked him, "How the hell-"

"Just good at reading people I guess." Douglass said with a smirk, "Contrary to popular belief, Bergie, I usually know what I'm talking about. There's a reason I'm a bombardier and not just some journalist or something." She watched him and licked her lips.

"Is that why you joined?" she asked him, "The Air Force? Flying in B-17s?" Douglass glanced at her and nodded.

"Had to join the fight somehow, couldn't just sit back and let the fucking Nazis think they could walk all over us," Douglass said, finishing his beer, "that sorta stuff just don't fly around here. Well, except us. We fly." The two burst out into laughter, before they both died down and looked to one another. For a moment, they were quiet regarding one another with somewhat hesitant gazes as Carrie finished off her beer.

"Well, I'm gonna head-"

"Did you wanna-"

They both watched each other, before breaking out into laughter and righting themselves.

"You go." Douglass said.

"I was gonna head out. Get some rest. Pretty tired." she said quickly, her heart racing as she smiled at him with a nod, "You?" Douglass stared at her and for the first time, she saw the sudden shyness in his gaze as he glanced away from her and then back.

"Just…was gonna get another drink, but you head out, get some rest," he said, before smirking at her, "you need it."

"Oh, you asshole." grumbled Carrie knocking his shoulder before standing to her feet, Douglass following suit. The stood there for a moment, looking at one another - usually, if this were a Silver Bullets girl, she'd give them a hug, but with Douglass, she felt frozen in place. She stuck out her hand instead, to shake, and he shook her hand, and she felt more awkward than ever before, as she shook back. His handshake was firm though, and confident and suddenly made her feel like some 16-year-old girl in high school and balked.

"Well, I'll see you around." she said, stumbling back a bit, "Night!" And she disappeared quickly - like she always did. She found the barracks, promptly settled into bed, and then stared at the ceiling, counting the dried pieces of wood hanging from the panels again.

And she replayed the look in James Douglass' eyes - over and over.

And for the first time in years, all she could think about was James Douglass' eyes that had watched her like that, as she tried to fall asleep.

To say the least, it was the best sleep in months.

#carrie you are a national treasure never change #carrie x dougie #carrie achterberg #james douglass #bessie carlisle #francis montez #judy rybinski #birdie faulkner #(cpt faulkner with her own tag HOORAY!!!!) #pre-annie bradshaw era though so :'( #this was FUN!!!! #carrie and dougie DO have common ground!!! disliking GREENLAND LMFAOOO #carrie is a history nerd when it comes to vikings yes #she is obsessed #she just doesnt like greenland lmao #dougie was going to ask her to dance (sobs) #its ok #its fine #THEM #THEM THEM THEM #THANK YOU AGAIN!!! <3333333 #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #james douglass x oc

[namesetc]

if you can do this, could i maybe request some names related to birds, nighttime or gold? thanks in advance!

we can do three lists! we'll start with birds

---

Avia

Aviary

Avian

Aderyn

Adler

Avis

Aviana

Adalie

Birdie / Birdy

Blue

Branwen

Byrd

Crow

Circe

Corbin

Corvus

Crane

Canary

Dove

Duckie

Ezio

Eagle

Finch

Falcon

Faulkner

Feather

Gull

Grey / Gray

Hawk

Jay / Jae

Kestrel

Lark

Mavis

Merle

Nesta

Nestor

Owl

Owlette

Phoenix

Peregrine

Quail

Raven

Robin

Sparrow

Starling

Swan

Swift

Talon

Teal

Wren

Wing

#admin ellie #admin vax #bird names #bird theme #read dni #read my dni #name blog #name ideas #name lists #name suggestions #name request #name inspiration #anon request #baby names #name #names #greek names #masc names #masculine names #baby girl names #masculine greek names #greek inspired names #fem names #gender neutral names #feminine names #nonbinary names #androgynous names #enby names #trans name ideas #name inspo

[namelists]

a list of names inspired by: birds

this list includes names of birds, birdlike names, and the meanings of each one.

Alouette: French for “lark”

Altair/Altaira: Arabic for ‘the flying eagle’

Ani: a species of tropical birds

Arini: the tribe of parrots that includes macaws and parakeets

Ava: from the Latin for “bird”

Birdie: cute vintage name, could be a nickname for Bridget or Elizabeth

Byrd: Old English, originally given as a nickname to one thought to bear a fancied resemblance to a bird

Cairina: a genus of ducks

Callum: Scottish, means “dove”

Chelidon: Greek name for a swallow

Claravis: a genus of neotropical doves

Corvus: means “crow”

Covey: a little group of birds, especially partridges

Crane: from the name of the long-legged bird

Cygnet: a baby swan

Dacelo: a kookaburra

Dove: lovely, simple bird name

Eagle: a strong name, this refers to the bird of prey

Efron: Hebrew, means “singing bird”

Evelyn: means “beautiful bird”

Falcon: another cool bird of prey name

Faulkner: means “falcon trainer”

Feather: if you want to go a bit literal

Finch: little birds found all over the world

Fowler: means “bird trapper”

Hawk: another cool bird of prey

Heron: long-legged freshwater and coastal birds  

Jay: a nickname, but also a cute bird

Jena: Sanskrit/Arabic, means “little bird”

Kanara: Hebrew for “canary”

Kestrel: a type of falcon

Kirk: from the Greek for bird

Laraline: Latin, meaning “seagull”

Lark: a playful songbird

Linette: a ‘linnet’ is a tiny bird from the finch family

Loa:  the name of a bird in the Icelandic language

Lonan: blackbird

Loriini: a tribe of Australasian parrots

Manu: Polynesian, “bird of the night”

Melidora: a hook-billed kingfisher

Merula: blackbird

Minerva: an extinct genus of owls

Nesta: a variation of Agnes

Nydia: Latin, means “nest”

Palila: Hawaiian singing forest bird

Paloma: Spanish, means “dove”

Peregrine: a type of falcon

Phoenix: from Greek myth, this bird dies and then rises from its own ashes

Raven: a large black bird, used as the gods’ messengers in mythology

Rhea: an ostrich-like bird

Robin: a pretty spring bird, also Batman’s bestie

Salvadorina: a type of duck from New Guinea

Sarika: a cuckoo bird, also means “princess”

Starling: a pretty bird with iridescent feathers

Talon: badass name referring to the claw of a bird of prey

Torio: Japanese, means “bird’s tail”

Trugon: a thick-billed ground pigeon

Vireo: a green-yellow bird, but also a medical marijuana company, so use with discretion

Weaver: a bird found in Asia and India

Whistler: an Australian songbird

Wren: the cutest little bird you ever saw, I promise

Zenaida: a species of American doves

Zipporah: Hebrew, means “bird”. Sephora is another version of this name

#rph #baby names #character names #name help #masterlist #character development #nature

[rvactividades]

¡atención!

debajo del read more pueden encontrar los links que les permitirá unirse al blog de starters. favor de dar click únicamente a la url que les corresponda. de esta manera podrán tener acceso al blog donde podrán rebloguear starters y sacarlos una vez hayan alcanzado las notas que crean poder manejar.

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morgan falconer: https://www.tumblr.com/join/IeRGVffmnb

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orion faulkner: https://www.tumblr.com/join/Iqd3g7b4Ho

jesse do: https://www.tumblr.com/join/bsVYmrXfXL

birdie copeland: https://www.tumblr.com/join/buNLXmKEYE

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jesaiah dankworth: https://www.tumblr.com/join/aEBS6XEfyi

reece davies: https://www.tumblr.com/join/e74Ud8uRNI

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katrina ness: https://www.tumblr.com/join/8x0ZjPi2wY

roxane kidd: https://www.tumblr.com/join/Xc9lmDS2F0

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simba: https://www.tumblr.com/join/6BbxaGcJOj

paxton: https://www.tumblr.com/join/9FyPPELh4J

vanessa waltz: https://www.tumblr.com/join/9rwGcGVynr

atlas: https://www.tumblr.com/join/K5k2t8v7XU

charity: https://www.tumblr.com/join/Qkb3HqbjX8

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#anuncio #cualquier duda pueden acercarse al im o ask del main

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Ain’t Nobody Nobody by Heather Harper Ellett

Tragedy seem to find many of the characters in this book. The existence of all seems to be difficult with little money or food not much to look forward to. What one is wiling to do to make money gets some into trouble. Suicide, Murder, mysteries, drugs and money may or may not balance out friendship, family and community in this story. I came away feeling a little bit dirty at the end of the book and wishing that there had been “more” for those who survived and also for those that didn’t. In the end, though the feral hogs were being trapped and killed it seemed they survived and thrived better than t he humans.

Was the book well written? Yes

Did I enjoy it? On the fence

Would I read more by this author? Maybe

Thank you to NetGalley and Polis Books for the ARC – this is my honest review.

3-4 Stars

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46252580-ain-t-nobody-nobody

BLURB

“Breaking Bad” meets Joe Lansdale with the soul of Faulkner in an authentic debut novel of Texas crime from a remarkable new voice. Still reeling from the scandal that cost him his badge, Randy Mayhill―fallen lawman, dog rescuer, Dr Pepper enthusiast―sees a return from community exile in the form of a dead hog trapper perched on a fence. The fence belongs to the late Van Woods, Mayhill’s best friend and the reason for his spectacular fall. Determined to protect Van’s land and family from another scandal, Mayhill ignores the sheriff who replaced him and investigates the death of the unidentified man. His quest crosses with two others: Birdie, Van’s surly, mourning daughter, who has no intention of sitting idly by and leaving her father’s legacy in Mayhill’s hands; and Bradley, Birdie’s slow, malnourished but loyal friend, whose desperation to escape a life of poverty has him working with local criminals, and possibly a murderer. A brilliantly-written, witty, and riveting debut novel about family and loyalty, old grudges and new lives, AIN’T NOBODY NOBODY is an unforgettable debut from an extraordinarily talented writer in Heather Harper Ellett.

#Heather Harper Ellett #Polis Books LLC #NetGalley #Fiction #Mystery #Murder #Drugs #Suicide

[brielleinstitutehq]

CONGRATULATIONS!!! THE FOLLOWING APPLICATIONS HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED! PLEASE SEND IN YOUR ACCOUNTS TO THE MAIN WITHIN 24 HOURS!

( Roxxi, 21, She/Her )

Carter Rawlings ( COLTON HAYNES FC )

( Sami, 18, She/Her )

Birdie ‘Blythe’ Winters ( TAISSA FARMIGA FC )

( Louise, 26, She/Her )

Hayden Faulkner ( HOLLAND RODEN FC )

( Ally, 20, She/Her )

Heather Carpe ( EMMA ROBERTS FC )

( Gee, 18, She/Her )

Abrielle Willis ( SABRINA CARPENTER FC )

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Farah Avery ( EMMA DUMONT FC )

( Amy, 21, She/Her )

Payson Saunders ( VIRGINIA GARDNER FC )

#bhqaccepted

[transnames]

Some two-syllable neutral names

(One-syllable names)

You can also combine initials, e.g. AJ, although this does not work for all initials and it can be gendered masculine.

A: Aaren, Abbott, Adair, Addi, Adren, Aerie, Afon, Aiden, Aiken, Ainsley, Alder, Alex, Ali, Alix, Alpha, Altair, Alto, Alton, Alva, Amal, Amore, Andy, Angel, Angie, Anise, Arbor, Ari, Ariel, Arlen, Arley, Arrow, Arya, Asa, Asher, Ashlen, Ashley, Ashton, Aspen, Aster, Aston, Aubrey, Auburn, Auden, August, Aura, Austin, Avery, Avis, Aviv, Avon, Aya, Ayan, Aza, Aze, Azure

B: Bailey, Baldwin, Banner, Barrett, Basil, Bauer, Baylor, Benson, Bentley, Berkley, Berry, Beryl, Billie, Birdie, Blakely, Bobbie, Booker, Bradley, Brady, Brayden, Brennan, Brewer, Briar, Brighton, Brinsley, Bronte, Brooklyn, Bryant

C: Cadence, Caelum, Calder, Camden, Cameron, Camille, Campbell, Canyon, Carey, Carlyle, Carmen, Carol, Carter, Cartwright, Carson, Casey, Cedar, Chandler, Chandra, Channing, Charlie, Charlton, Chatham, Cheyenne, Citron, Clancy, Claudie, Clover, Cobalt, Coby, Cohen, Coleson, Collins, Colver, Comet, Condor, Connell, Connie, Cooper, Coral, Corbin, Corin, Corey, Corley, Cortney, Cricket, Cyan, Cypress, Cyrille

D: Dallas, Dana, Dani, Darby, Darcy, Darrell, Darren, Denver, Devon, Diamond, Diaz, Dillon, Douglas, Dustin, Dusty, Dylan

E: Eagle, Early, Easton, Ebon, Echo, Eddie, Eden, Efe, Eiffel, Eissa, Elli, Ellis, Ellwood, Ember, Emer, Emerald, Emlyn, Emmett, Emry, Emryn, Enfys, Ennis, Eren, Errel, Essence, Esme, Evan, Ever, Everett, Eyrie, Ezra

F: Fable, Falco, Falcon, Fallon, Farah, Fargo, Farley, Farrell, Faulkner, Feldspar, Fennel, Fifer, Finley, Finney, Fiore, Fischer, Fletcher, Floren, Florence, Forest, Francis, Frankie, Freedom, Friday, Fulton

G: Gabi, Galen, Galway, Gannet, Garden, Gardner, Garey, Garland, Garnet, Gavi, Germaine, Gerry, Glenwood, Golden, Grady, Granite, Guthrie

H: Hadley, Halcyon, Hallow, Halo, Happy, Harbor, Harley, Harlow, Harper, Hartley, Haven, Hawking, Hayden, Henley, Heron, Hollis, Honor, Hopper, Hudson, Hunter

I: Iman, Imory, Indi, Innis, Io, Ira, Isa, Isha, Islet, Iver, Ivor, Ivory, Ivy, Izzy

J: Jacinth, Jackie, Jaden, Jael, Jalen, Jamie, Janis, Jarrah, Jarrell, Jasper, Jensen, Jessie, Joey, Jody, Jonquil, Jordan, Journey, July, Juneau, Junior, Juno, Justice

K: Kali, Kameron, Karey, Karson, Kasey, Kato, Keaton, Keegan, Keelan, Keenan, Kelby, Kellan, Keller, Kelly, Kelsey, Kendall, Kenyon, Kenzie, Kerry, Kestrel, Kevyn, Kieran, Kingsley, Kirby, Klaudie, Koby, Kody, Korbin, Korin, Korey, Krishna, Kyler

L: Laker, Lakyle, Lander, Landry, Laney, Langley, Larkin, Larkspur, Lashawn, Laurel, Laurence, Leighton, Lennox, Leopard, Leslie, Lethe, Lexie, Lexis, Linden, Lindsay, Lindy, Linnet, Logan, London, Loren, Luca, Lucky, Lyric

M: Maddox, Magic, Major, Malloy, Manu, Marley, Marlow, Martell, Marty, Mattie, Maury, Maurice, Maxie, Maxwell, Meadow, Mercer, Merlyn, Merritt, Merry, Micah, Mika, Miller, Misha, Monday, Morgan, Murphy, Murray, Myers

N: Narcisse, Nasim, Navdeep, Navy, Neal, Neptune, Neo, Nicky, Nico, Nika, Nike, Nimbus, Noam, Noel, Nori, Norris, Nouvel, Nova

O: Oakley, Oberon, Ocean, Odell, Ollie, Olive, Onyx, Opal, Ori, Oriole, Orion, Orrin, Osborne, Owen, Ozzie

P: Paisley, Paris, Parker, Pasco, Patience, Patrice, Paxton, Penrose, Pepper, Peregrine, Perrin, Perry, Peyton, Phelan, Phoenix, Piper, Placid, Porter, Prairie, Presley, Prosper

Q: Qaisar, Quarry, Quasar, Quetzal, Quila, Quincy, Quentin, Quillan

R: Raleigh, Rainbow, Rainer, Randy, Raven, Redmond, Regal, Regan, Reggie, Reynold, Rhythm, Ricki, Ridley, Riley, Rio, Rishi, River, Robbie, Robin, Ronnie, Rory, Roscoe, Rowan, Royal, Rudy, Ryder, Ryen, Rylen

S: Sabah, Sadler, Saffron, Salem, Samar, Sandy, Satchel, Saturn, Sasha, Sawyer, Saylor, Season, Selby, Seren, Seven, Sevy, Shale, Shannon, Shelby, Shelly, Shiloh, Sidney, Silver, Sinclair, Skylar, Skylark, Skyler, Snowdrop, Snowy, Soren, Sorrel, Sparrow, Spencer, Spirit, Springer, Stanley, Starling, Sterling, Summer, Sunday, Sunny, Sunshine, Sunset, Sutton

T: Taffy, Tali, Talon, Tanner, Tarian, Taylor, Teagan, Teddy, Tempest, Temple, Terry, Thursday, Tibby, Tiernan, Tiger, Timber, Tobin, Toby, Topaz, Torrey, Tracy, Trenton, Tristen, Tucker, Turner, Tuesday, Tully, Tyler, Tyson

U: Ulfie, Ulli, Ulri, Ulysse, Umber, Umbra, Upton, Urban, Uri, Ursa, Usher, Uta

V: Valen, Vega, Verdi, Vernon, Verrill, Vesper, Vivi, Vivien, Volta, Voltaire

W: Walker, Wallace, Waylan, Webster, Wednesday, Weston, Whimsy, Whitley, Whitney, Wilder, Willow, Wilson, Windsor, Windy, Winslow, Winter, Wisdom, Wolfram, Woody, Wylie

X: Xander, Xavie

Y: Yael, Yaven, Yannick, Yarrow, Yven

Z: Zailey, Zaki, Zander, Zandy, Zavi, Zelig, Zeno, Zephyr, Zero, Zevi, Zion,  Zohar, Zola, Zorey, Zuri

#names #neutral #two syllable #resource #op

[persinsala]

Birdie

Di qua o di là dai muri, dai cancelli, dalle frontiere, dalle sponde del mare: possiamo asserragliarci dentro o restare chiusi fuori, ma gli uccelli continueranno a migrare, a librarsi sulle ali del vento e volare. (more…)

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#Agrupación Señor Serrano #Àlex Serrano #Alfred Hitchcock #CFC #David Muñiz #Ferran Dordal #Jim Bond #Lucy #Mare Nostrum #Monte Bianco #Pau Palacios #Planpincieux #Recensione Birdie #Tippi Hedren #William Faulkner

[wexhappyxfew]

folklore or whatnot

(a/n): for a month or two now, i've had three to four pages where i have blurb ideas just sitting in my drafts with no home or no direction, so now i've decided to utilize those pieces and do a little something with them for the silver bullets girls! AND! can happily say this snippet that i started with gets to see the light of day! early annie x brady mentions for anyone interested (i know we have the annie x brady girlies out there hehe), along with more of co-pilot francis montez (whom i wanted to do more writing for!), so please enjoy!! <3 note: LOTS more info regarding cpt birdie faulkner!! woo!

It had actually been Francis Montez that convinced her that she deserved to head out to the local pub that a good portion of the men from the 100th went on nights where they didn't have to stay on base.

Annie had considered the fact that Francis was actually coming around in more ways than one; after Annie's first successful mission aboard Silver Bullets, commanding their crew, from take-off, dropping the bombs and landing, Francis had turned to her in the cockpit and given her a firm look, with a smile itching at the corner of her lips. And ever since, Francis seemed to be making a more conscious effort to be around Annie. Whether it was because Francis was missing Captain Faulkner or was recognizing Annie's capabilities to command a flying fort, Annie appreciated it in more ways than one.

So, when Francis had come up to her mid-afternoon, as they were all stood around after a practice run, she had off-handedly mentioned the pub, and offered Annie to come along with them, "You don't realize how much you need something like that until you're there." Francis had promised. A majority of the girls were dispersed throughout the pub for the most part, huddled around tables with other men from the 100th or at dart boards, or taking a smoke break outside. It seemed everyone had their spots and positions and it was only Annie who felt out of place.

A replacement command pilot was enough of a set of shoes to fill, not even to mention what the reciprocation would ultimately be like.

"You want a beer?" Francis asked her as they stood side by side in the entrance. Annie felt a bit bad - Francis was clearly comfortable and used to this environment and Annie was holding her back a bit. Annie looked up at her co-pilot and nodded firmly, hiding the bit of hesitancy that was for sure living in her eyes.

"Sure." Francis nodded her head towards the bar.

"They're usually warm so…" Francis started, glancing her way with a small smile, "don't feel bad if it tastes a little funky." Annie watched as Francis got two beers and then pushed the warm mug into her grasp.

The thing was, it wasn't the warm beer or the atmosphere or even the people - it was the thought of alcohol in her system. She never had really had a problem until she had joined up and wondered if she'd become like her mother. Drunk as a skunk on any chance she had, downing beer and cheap liquor while her 15-year-old daughter ran the house. Annie swallowed nervously looking at the beer and glanced back up at Francis, who was staring at her confusedly (and with good reason).

"You good, Bradshaw?"

"Fine." Annie answered quickly, pulling the mug up to take a small sip, which did taste a little funky, "Where do you usually sit?" Francis quirked out a smile and nodded over to a table where she could see enough names to know it was certainly an officer-heavy section.

"Birdie and I….." Francis started, the 'I' getting caught in her throat a bit, "we always sat with them. As officers, ya know? Buck always saved us seats." Annie watched her quietly.

"Past few times though…."

"Yeah." Annie offered, noticing the sudden emotion warping Francis' eyes, "Let's go, let's have a sit." Francis nodded to her slowly, before turning and leading the way.

Annie watched the back of Francis' head, her dark hair down and curled, as she expertly navigated the tables and people in the crowd all around. It was very natural for her all of this - while Annie felt more stiff-backed than she ever had. She was trying to get better with that.

But, ever since maintaining the control of Command Pilot, everything she did felt monumental as in, if she fucked up, it would reflect on her crew. If she said something on the wrong end of a note, it'd fall back on, you guessed it, her crew. Her girls. And she didn't want others thinking of Silver Bullets badly, nor the possible swirling idea that Lieutenant Bradshaw couldn't lead like Captain Faulkner could - that losing Captain Faulkner was the worst thing to happen, but clearly obtaining Lieutenant Bradshaw had been worse. No. Annie was determined to make her impressions and personally, she wanted to make them worthwhile.

She was command pilot for Silver Bullets for a reason.

Clearly someone trusted her.

"Boys." Francis said as she approached, rounding on the group, as Annie's eyes quickly darted about the table, picking up the likes of Majors like Cleven and Egan, along with navigators Crosby and Payne (he went by Bubbles though, she was sure Bessie had mentioned that). Kidd was also there, with Brady and DeMarco and a few others where her mind was going blank. A few British pilots sat opposite, evidently quite, almost brooding. Annie looked to Francis again, watching as a few of the men called out to her, before looking to Annie who was still stood, frozen, with a mug of warm beer in her grasp.

"Francis Montez, you actually made it out, huh!" one of the Lieutenants called from beside Cleven - the name was gone from her mind as she watched him clap Cleven on the back before standing and reaching out a hand, to shake Francis' before the two turned and he was bounding towards Annie.

"Hey, Lieutenant, uh…."

"Bradshaw." Annie said quickly, keeping her eyes on the man watching as he smiled at her, eyes lingering from the British, to the man to her, coming around the table and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Bradshaw, I don't think we've met, Curt Biddick, it's a pleasure to see you here tonight, 'specially mingling with a few guys like us, huh?" Annie saw Brady roll his eyes, as Biddick let out a chuckle, "I'm just joking with youse, I swear. Look, I'll buy you a drink-"

"Curt, do you really gotta do shit like that?" Francis said, pulling him from beside her, and bumping his shoulder, "Instead of a drink, how 'bout you offer her a seat, huh?"

"I think that's a great idea," Major Cleven offered as he stood from his, nodding to his spot between where Biddick had been and Major Egan who looked up at her with a wide grin, "Have a seat, Bradshaw." Annie looked to Major Cleven and nodded slowly to him.

"Thank you, sir." she said, stepping forward and settling herself into the seat, Cleven turning and grabbing another chair to pull up on her other side as DeMarco pulled in a chair for Francis and she settled between him and Major Egan. With almost the comfort of the men of the 100th around her, looking forward and seeing the British still watching her, quiet and contemplating, she felt slightly out of place under their stares. But, she was here for a reason, among ranking officers in the American Air Force.

"So," one of the British pilots - RAF possibly, RAF definitely - said leaning forward, care to introduce us to your new friend." The group sort of went…quiet if that was the word for it, "What happened to the other one? Too much to handle? Flying in broad daylight, huh?" Annie noticed Major Egan leaning back in his chair, looking ready to pounce himself across the table, and took it as her opportunity to intervene before someone said something they'd regret.

"1st Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw of the 100th. I'm Command Pilot for Silver Bullets, B-17. 418th." Annie said with a nod, "Captain Faulkner died on impact on a mission a month ago. I got the call and was beyond honored to fill those shoes." Looking at the British as she finished speaking, she reveled in the silence and sipped at her beer and then placed it back down on the damp wood of the table.

"So, no, not at all too much to handle," Annie said, tapping her fingers on the glass and offering a smile, "I just have the intention to do what I can for the bombing crew now and show I deserve to be here. Just like the rest of us. With a greater focus on the cause; winning the war."

"We all have our call to arms that we're answering to," Francis offered in, leaning forward against the table, "and people die every, damn, day, so I would offer you to reconsider any other thoughts towards Lieutenant Bradshaw while you sit here, okay?" The group fell into silence for a moment, as Annie looked to Francis who offered her a smirk and a wink.

Leave it to the co-pilot to have the command pilot's back; Annie made a mental note in her brain for that one.

"She's one of the best. Seen her fly myself." Brady supplied in the silence that had festered, and the whole table, Annie included looked towards him and he sent his eyes flickering around and offered her a nod. People started looking away and at each other, but she held Brady's gaze and offered a small smile in his direction. He didn't look away.

Brady's gaze was intense to say the least, but there was something in her to where she couldn't look away - offering up his own compliments in her own favor because the British had a bone to pick? She could feel the tops of her cheeks turning crimson and focused back on the beer in her grasp, attempting to forget about Brady's gaze that was evidently still on her.

"Silver Bullets, what a charming name," one of the British on the left said, "and that means….?"

"A single, tactile thing that can essentially be a game-changer, changes tides, send waves," Annie supplied quickly, looking up from her beer in record time, " I never got to meet Captain Faulkner but Lieutenant Carlisle told me that Faulkner named the fort herself. Folklore or whatnot."

"Basically means that the more you stop asking stupid questions, the more you won't have to dig yourself into a deeper hole, 'lright?" Major Egan said leaning forward, "Now, how about you all and your British manners give some respect to the lady, okay?"

"Bucky-" DeMarco started, but Major Egan held up a hand.

"Nah, nah, nah, I'm not done yet," Major Egan said and pointed a finger at her, "Lieutenant Bradshaw stood up to the challenge and took it like taking a bull by the horns, what the hell is your prob-"

"Gentlemen," Crosby said intervening, turning to the British pilots, "it's a pleasure really, but Lieutenant Bradshaw has fortified herself as an incredibly pivotal command pilot in the 100th. I mean, if you really need a visual for…such poor eyesight…feel free to come to Thorpe Abbotts any day of the week and she could probably rattle off a tour of Silver Bullets herself and fly you to France and back without breaking a sweat."

"Yeah, yeah, Crosby, thank you, yeah," Bucky said, leaning forward, "if you really thinking taking a few jabs at one of our command pilots I think-"

"I've never seen someone fly with such cool, calm, collected confidence that I have to practically reach over and make sure she's alive," Francis interjected, casting a glance at Annie, her gaze firm, as she looked back to the British, "anyone could die any given time or day. And Captain Faulkner happened to be in the crossfire. But Lieutenant Bradshaw has stepped up to the plate-"

"And hit a fucking grand slam-"

"Sir," Francis said glancing at Major Egan who held up his hands in mock protest, "if you have sort of questioning about Lieutenant Bradshaw and her confidentiality in a B-17, you can happily talk to me day or night - preferably night, but I know you do your runs then. Damn shame." The British sat in stunned silence. "So, please, feel free, but I assure you that Lieutenant Bradshaw is doing what she must and Captain Faulkner is rolling over in her grave knowing you're talking to her like this." More stunned silence. Biddick let out a low whistle as Major Egan leaned back and wrapped his arms around the backs of both her and Francis' chairs.

"Well, gentlemen, you just got bested by one of the best damn co-pilots in all the 100th," Major Egan said with a dry chuckle afterwards, "c'mon, what do you gotta say for yourselves, huh?" The British pilots continued to sit in an uneasy silence.

"Right." Major Cleven said, butting in quietly, as he laced his fingers together and nodded to the group, "Thanks for the drinks tonight, gentlemen." Major Cleven nodded to the RAF pilots, who began to protest as the group started to stand, Major Egan urging Annie to stand to her feet with her beer as she glanced back at the RAF pilots - stunned into silence and the sudden realization of having to pay for 6 to 7 drinks at their disposal.

Annie blindly followed behind Major Egan's bobbing head until the group had started to settle at a new table, away from that of the RAF pilots, whom Annie had taken a glance back to and who were slowly standing, adjusting themselves and muttering amongst one another.

"Last time I hear about their shit with Silver Bullets," Major Egan said from beside her as she settled into the open chair beside him, glancing up at the table and eyeing Francis, who was a few chairs down and nodding to her (which brought Annie a greater comfort than she could imagine), "Birdie used to sock 'em in the mouth with what she'd tell 'em. You could do that, but you're fucking eloquent with it, Bradshaw, so, they might've lost it if we kept at it." Annie glanced up at Major Egan as his sipped his beer again.

"They always got a comment," DeMarco muttered from across the table as he pulled his cigarette off his lip and glanced at Annie, "you get used to it, but it don't mean that it doesn't annoy the shit outta the rest of us. They went after Silver Bullets all the time. And they damn-well knew what it meant to."

"Birdie just never actually told them what it meant, ya know," Biddick offered with a grin and a nod, "she liked to mess with 'em all the time. Get in their heads, shit like that. She got 'em good. But, hey, you did much of the same so cheers to you, Bradshaw." Annie let out a small laugh and scratched behind her head.

"I'll be honest, I've been through enough higher order bullshit in my time and just didn't want to have to hear any sorta sob story from their mouths," Annie admitted honestly, earning a few chuckles from the table, "you get enough of that from back home. Didn't need it here to." A uniformed grouping of nods and agreements and 'Amen to that' echoed about, with people clinking glasses and smiling at her - and for a moment, she felt she won a bit of something deep in her being, for even just a statement like that.

Annie slowly glanced to her left and found Brady there - their few conversations hadn't been anything stellar, but he'd been nothing but kind to her after their first unexpected meeting together on the tarmac. She smiled at him, when she caught him watching her and she watched as his gaze subtly softened and he leaned toward her a bit as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thanks for saying that. Back there." Annie said with a nod, as he grip on her beer became tighter, "You didn't have to, but I appreciated it." Brady watched her with a grin on his lips and nodded as he leaned towards her ear over the loudness of the group.

"You're a good pilot, Bradshaw," he said quietly and with a genuineness in his voice that it made her heart resound to even the mere compliment that anyone could give anytime of the week, "and you get sick of hearing their comments on what a whole other crew is doing with their flying and all. You handled them well, in my opinion." He leaned back from her and nodded to her with a small smile, his eyes glowing. She watched him and then found her smile again and smiled back.

"Thanks." she said with a nod, and he grinned wider at her, "If you don't mind my asking, they said…much of the same to Birdie?" Brady nodded quickly, sipping his beer again before looking at her (in that damn good looking uniform of his that would make a rock look stellar she thought), and turning his body towards her in the chair.

"All the time." Brady said, "'Course she had us, we didn't let the Brits get all their jeering out that they wanted, but Birdie held her own, and she usually would get them pretty good. Had them practically squirming in their seats. It's a bit of a treat sometimes, ya know?" Annie smiled at the thought and sent a glance to Francis, who was engaged in a serious looking conversation with Biddick and Kidd.

"And Francis?" Brady smiled at her.

"Francis always gets her digs in, they must be learning to suspect it at this point, but they should've played better when you were sitting there. They know how we all are at this point and you're no different. New ranking officer or not, we don't let shit like that slide." Brady affirmed to her and Annie smiled at him, with a look of thanks in her eyes. Brady watched her quietly for a moment as she seemed to soak in his words, before clearing his throat.

"What's this about some folklore, huh?" Brady asked her, almost innocently and sweetly enough that she looked up at him with a surprised chuckle.

"What?" Brady grinned as he leaned forward.

"Silver Bullets. Back there, you said it meant something…folklore or whatnot. What's that about?" Brady asked her, sipping his beer, "The most Birdie let on for us what that it was enough to kill us all or something like that." Annie watched him and broke into a rather loud chuckle and shook her head at him, before leaning against the table and sighing.

"Supposedly it killed werewolves, I don't know." Annie said, looking to his eyes, "You'd have better luck talking to Margie about all that though, she's into all that ghost sorta stuff." Brady let out a laugh at her words and nodded to her.

"I'll have to keep that in mind." Annie grinned.

Something about Lieutenant John Brady made her want to keep talking to him - his quiet confidence and inviting nature made her insides feel warm and almost curious to know more about himself, his story, him. She didn't have a lot of people like that back home - being young and taking care of an army of siblings who had practically been ready to call her 'Mom' instead of 'Sister' was traumatizing enough, not to even mention her lack of schooling or social outing.

Annie slowly sipped her beer again, cringing a bit at the liquid and its warmth and glanced over at Brady again, who was back to sipping his own beer and listening in on a conversation with Major Cleven, Major Egan, Crosby and Bubbles. A small smile hit her cheeks as she watched him laugh, something about him magnetic and touching all at once.

"Hey. Bradshaw." Annie looked over at Major Egan and watched as he leaned beside her, wrapping an arm around her chair and pointing to the beer, "Just. Let me know if you don't end up finishing that up. I could take it off your hands, easy." Annie watched him for a moment.

"Are you really that much of a fan of warm beer, sir?" Egan let out a dry chuckle and shrugged.

"You gotta go where the getting is good, I guess. And what else is around here except empty fucking fields and trees every square mile. A warm beer at this point is a good beer." Annie let out a laugh and slid it towards him.

"All yours." she said, "I don't drink much anyway."

"Ahhh, hey Buck, you got a fellow Saint here," Egan said, leaning over to Major Cleven and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "she don't do much drinking either. Maybe you two can both go taking shots of water together." Major Cleven let out a chuckle as Annie rolled her eyes the slightest bit and caught Brady's slightly cold stare at Egan - but Annie didn't really care.

From the interactions she'd had with Egan, it was all in good fun - he was all in good fun. He was always looking for fun, a distraction from war. She didn't mind.

She liked the two Majors - Buck and Bucky - they'd been sweet as anything, with a bit more jeering from Egan if she was telling the truth. But they seemed to understand what it meant to have an all-female crew in the group and she appreciated that. It meant that when Birdie had been here, they had looked out for her, too, and with her, they were making sure of it.

"Hey, Bradshaw, you want a Coca-Cola?" Annie looked over at Brady leaning towards her, with a thumb jabbed over his shoulder to the bar, "Since someone took your beer-"

"Sure." Annie said, looking at him, while waving off Egan who was looking ready to start singing a musical nearly, "It's all good….I'm not a fan of beer much anyway. Here and there." Brady smiled at her, the corner of his lip curling upwards into a near-wider grin.

"Warm beer just doesn't do the trick, like beer back home, huh?"

"You got that right." Brady chuckled.

"I'll be back-"

"I can get it." Annie said, her hand jutting out to stop him by the arm, but he turned to her and offered her up a wink before heading off.

Annie watched him go before turning slowly back to the table and finding Francis watching her from across the table. She raised a brow. Annie couldn't contain the smirk and shook her head. Francis chuckled. By this point in time, she'd never felt more comfortable in a group of people and in a bomber group.

Maybe flying B-17s had always been her ultimate goal, despite everything in her life up to this point in time. Maybe all her reckless youth and sped-up childhood was for this. To come into this moment in time as a Lieutenant in the Army Air Force, with the title of command pilot for an all-female group. Maybe that's what all along, everything was coming to a head as. Maybe for once in her life, she was earning something instead of giving. Maybe she was doing it all at once.

Maybe.

Life seemed to be full of maybes at this point - and maybe, she was okay with that for now.

#birdie faulkner mention -> SCREAMS #she was so cool #but she's the catalyst for the entirety of the story so :'( #annie bradshaw #francis montez #john brady #john egan #bucky egan #buck cleven #gale cleven #curt biddick #benny demarco #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #birdie faulkner #and ya know what -> #annie x brady #because its early days for them but its THEREEEE #this was sitting on my doc for A MONTH AND A HALF AND I FINALLY COULD DO SOMETHING WITH IT #thank youuuuuuuu!!!! ;D #this was so much fun #i was trying to find ways to work birdie in because she really is the reason this whole story and play by play exists and THIS!!! #this is where she works herself in super well - she's really such an important aspect of the story despite her no appearances #she's always mentioned always thought of #she named silver bullets for crying out loud!!! (birdie u will always be icon in my eyes)but annie bradshaw does a stellar job in your shoe #i hope you all ENJOYYYYYY #also annie bradshaw continued-fleshed-out-background (poor girl needs a HUG) #ALSO HI BRADY

[tee-aitch-official]

Hello you 😊 a little birdie told me you like prose and maybe a bit of poetry? May I ask whether there are any favourites?

Ooh, I actually study literature (among other things). My favourite poet is Dylan Thomas, so much drama there and he's appropriately dark and grandiose and all the good things. As for prose, I really liked this book Everything I Don't Remember by the Swedish author Khemiri (not sure if it's translated into English). From the classics, I'd say Thomas Hardy is funny and ironic, also some experimental Faulkner, DH Lawrence is fun to read, August Strindberg's plays are interesting, Martin A Hansen (the Dane) is really cool. I don't have a favourite prosaic author.

#literature #ramble #sorry people

[torentialtribute]

Orange is still the order of the day for flamboyant Ricky Fowler ahead of final round at The Open

Rickie Fowler a nearly man of the majors, will wave aside the checkered history of Northern Ireland by wearing his trademark orange shirt at Royal Portrush on Sunday.

After a fine five-under third round to go minus eight overall, the American is in with a fighter's chance or lifting the Claret Jug, and, as ever, he is making no apologies for his flamboyant appearance.

The orange, the devoted bible studies student declares, is no political statement. He's just wearing the color of his old school, Oklahoma State University. And that is that.

Rickie Fowler will wear his trademark orange shirt at Royal Portrush on Sunday

Fowler is sartorial heir to Britain's Max Faulkner, stylish winner when The Open last called here in 1951. He lit up golf's post-war years with lilac plus twos, purple shirts, white socks and three-tone shoes. You could see him a couple of long drives away.

There was leg talk of Fowler, the modern popinjay, having been advised by Brooks Koepka's caddy Ricky Elliott – a native Portrush – to play it safe. The 148th Open was not like all the rest, he was advised. Indeed, a march staged by the Portrush Sons of Ulster was due to beat its drums through the town center to the local Orange Hall as Fowler spoke close to the becalmed course.

Fowler said: 'I obviously know the history of Ireland and Northern Ireland. But a few people told me that, as I'm not a local, it doesn't necessarily matter as much or it shouldn't.

'So, no, I'll have traditional Sunday orange for you . ”

Fowler is heir to Max Faulkner, stylish winner when The Open last called in Portrush in 1951

It must have been reported that the atmosphere has been universally warm at this Open. There is a post-Troubles vibe here at this slightly faded seaside resort with its stunning coastline.

Fowler's talent is as nearly extravagant as his dress and yet the 30-year-old has been around so long, a decade as a pro, that is astonishing he remains without a major to his name. This is his 37th attempt.

Many of his American pals have scaled the heights and some at younger ages. Jordan Spieth, 25, has three majors to his name. Justin Thomas, 26, has one. Koepka, 29, has four. The list goes on, and the stats pile up: eight times in the top five for Fowler and no cigar.

Saturday's impressive form gave him his lowest 54-hole total at an Open Championship (205) and hope that , especially if the weather whips up as expected today and introduces uncertainty, he can end the hoodoo.

Saturday's impressive form gift him his lowest 54-hole total at an Open Championship

He wants a few collapses ahead of him for that, however. "We're getting into the right direction today," said Fowler, a one-time motocross racer. "So I felt really good about what we did, especially the back nine and where my swing ate. I actually made some putts today, like Thursday and Friday.

"All I can do is play a good round of golf tomorrow and see what happens. I'll leave it all out there, have some fun, at least try for some birdies in the weather. You just have to throw the waterproofs on. Looking back at 2011 and Royal St George's, I played a heck of a round there on Saturday to move up into contention and ended up tied fifth. "

Turning back to yesterday, he said:" I hit a lot of good iron shots, especially on the back nine.

'With no wind it was probably as far away from the left course as you can get on a left course.

Fowler is full of confidence ahead of the final day of action in Northern Ireland

'I really like where my game is at right now especially after work I put in earlier in the week, seeing that pay off Thursday and Friday. It's just continued to get better. I'm trending in the right direction. '

Fowler is staying with his American playing mates, the major winners, in a big house nearby, where last night he was expecting to watch movies or the golf highlights and grab some dinner together.

When Faulkner won a prize of £ 300 here. Tomorrow the champion will get $ 1,935,000 – it is now written as US dollars but equates to a little more than £ 1.5million.

And if we should feel sorry for Rick Yutaka Fowler, resident or Jupiter, Florida, for not having won a major, don't forget that his career earnings stand at $ 37,444,168. A tonic in any currency.

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#Orange is still the order of the day for flamboyant Ricky Fowler ahead of final round at The Open"

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IN THE BUNKER WITH MICK THE GRIP has been published at http://www.theleader.info/2019/04/04/in-the-bunker-with-mick-the-grip-8/

New Post has been published on http://www.theleader.info/2019/04/04/in-the-bunker-with-mick-the-grip-8/

IN THE BUNKER WITH MICK THE GRIP

WHAT WITH SHOT CLOCKS and Super Six sprints, there is no shortage of attempts to modernise golf tournaments. The European Tour wallahs should perhaps spend a few days at the Sunningdale Foursomes, held in Berkshire every March, and see if anything can be learned from it. The historic, much-loved event welcomes male and female amateur and pro golfers to one of Britain's finest golf clubs.  The annual Sunningdale Foursomes was first played in 1934, and is open to all golfers through a unique handicap format, which allows pros, amateurs, men and women to compete fairly from the same set of tees. They find out what a leveller alternate shots can be. All Professional Golfers (Men) play from a handicap of +1. All Amateurs (Men) play from a handicap of scratch. All Professional Golfers (Ladies) play from a handicap of 2. All Amateurs (Ladies) play from a handicap of 4. Foursomes is still very much part of golf in England and it showed at last year’s Ryder Cup (Europe won the foursomes matches 6-2.)   Past Sunningdale winners include Max Faulkner, Peter Alliss, Luke Donald, and Ross Fisher. This year two former Open Champions, Sandy Lyle and Paul Lawrie, happily teed it up with the amateurs.  Womens’ Open champion Georgia Hall played in a field that included two mens’ European Tour players.  They all come and subject themselves to the early spring weather (particularly unfriendly this year) and the likelihood they will be eliminated by some chancers no one has ever heard of in the second round TWENTY FOUR YEARS AGO on April 3rd, 1995, Tiger Woods, aged 19, drove through the gate at Augusta National Golf Club for the first time. He was not impressed, commenting: “Magnolia Lane, is that it? — I thought it was a pretty short drive.”   Nick Faldo said after his first practice round with Tiger:  "He hits it long, his shoulders are impressively quick through the ball. That's where he's getting his power from.  He's just a very talented kid."  Woods made the cut and tied for 41st.  Two years later, in 1997 he won the Masters aged 21, with a record 270 (18 under) twelve strokes ahead of Tom Kite.   They lengthened the course after that. THOSE WERE THE DAYS: In the 1980-90’s the Masters almost became European property with Sandy Lyle (1988), Nick Faldo (1989, 90 and 96), Ian Woosnam (1991), Bernhard Langer (1985 and 93) and Jose-Maria Olazabal (1994 and 99.)  It would be nice to think the European golfers today could start another run, there are some promising contenders.  After the recent Players Championship I’ll have a bob on McIlroy. GOLF LORE SAYS if you win the par 3 tournament before the Masters, you are guaranteed a rotten finish in the real thing. Some players have admitted to throwing the par 3 or skipping it completely to increase their chances.  It will be interesting to see who wins the par 3 this year.                           Before 1982 the local caddies had a hard time of it at Augusta.  The club  was only open for 7 months of the year and members were forbidden to tip them. They lived for the chance of a share in the Masters prize money. However, in 1982 play ended early on the Thursday due to a storm so tee times were brought forward to the Friday.   Some caddies did not realise this and weren’t on the tee the next morning, and some players found the caddies had not dried their clubs for them. After that it was decided that Augusta could no longer bar tour caddies, although some players kept theirs on.   Jack Nicklaus said he couldn’t lose his faithful Willie Peterson, who was at his side for all his  six Masters victories, and who’s dance when Nicklaus holed a 40-footer for birdie on the 16th in 1975  would have won him a place on Strictly.til next time Another of David Lettermans reasons why golf is better that sex:. When your equipment gets old you can replace it!  Until next time: Happy Golfing. Contact Mick for your regripping and repairs: 638 859 475.

#Mick the Grip

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

Just some randoms songs I like that I think fit the houses! <3

Hufflepuff: Magic, by Pilot. Spirit Cold, by Tall Heights. Upside Down, by Jack Johnson. Warm Whispers, by Missy Higgins. Smile, by Uncle Kracker. The Power of Love, by Gabrielle Aplin.

Gryffindor: Tonight’s Gonna Be A Good Night, by the Black Eyed Peas. What If This Storm Ends, by Snow Patrol. Little Lion Man, by Mumford and Sons. 100 Around the Bends, by Missy Higgins. Somebody to Die For, by Hurts. Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell.

Slytherin: No Light, No Light, by Florence and the Machine. I’m So Sorry, by Imagine Dragons. Little Secrets, by Passion Pit. Breathe, by Seafret. Affection, by Cigarettes After Sex. Get Off Of My Back, by Bryan Adams.

Ravenclaw: Paradise, by Coldplay. Eyes on Fire, by Blue Foundation. Young Blood, by Birdy. Where No-one Goes, by Jonsi. Dream Catch Me, by Newton Faulkner. I’m Going North, by Missy Higgins.

#houses #Hogwarts #Harry Potter #Gryffindor #Slytherin #Hufflepuff #Ravenclaw #mine #my playlist #sort of #hope you like it! #tried to get it as accurate as I could #^.^" #<3 #music #my music

[hwcwhisperw]

Oh Valentines Day

What a vomit fest. 

Like many of you, I’ll be home, drinking wine from the bottle and watching terrible romances play out in front of him. No, I don’t mean The Notebook, I mean the love lives of those around New York. 

Now should we start with the love connections or the heartbreak? 

Orion Dumond took a break from trying to get roommate Devin Zang to try and love him back (Sorry that will never happen buddy) and went out on a date with Birdie Callaghan. Birdie, do better, please. 

Hanbin Kang and Minah Park were spotted on a date at Central Park. Cute artists, cute dates, Hanbin is probably on his way back into his sterile bubble after that adventure, though. 

Bouncing back from having his heart stepped on, Taehyun Lee the future mega music industry CEO seems to have two girls throwing themselves at him. Now, after his trip to Toronto with Sera-Li Kang, he has a choice to make.  Her, or the idealistic, hoping to be swept off her feet Luna Moon? 

Hunter Kwon seems to be swooping in on resident married man hating senior, Paisley Strouse. It looks like this Gamma can’t settle with her wife Delilah Wolfe, I mean I don’t blame her really--I wouldn’t want to move in with Delilah either. Hunter and Paisley keep getting spotted on dinner dates and in the backroom of the library where she’s doing more anatomy tutoring with Hunter than psychology. And to think, my money was on Sera-Li Kang whipping that boy into dating shape, she did nurse him back to health that one time he got his ass handed to him. 

Robert Vance and Jaxon Walsh were spotted getting pretty cozy in the Omega house. Looks like Jaxon finally got over his unrequited love. Just kidding, he’s still complaining about it. But with this new love connection, where does this leave Coltrane Faulkner? 

The Omega Tau president doesn’t seem to be bothered by his boyfriend drifting off to someone else. He seems to be less interested in Robert as time goes on, to be honest. I guess the only interesting thing about Robert is his hair. Colt looks like he’s trying to get in on the Tarran Choi/Sebastian Koh/Arwyn Song relationship. Or maybe Kian Nalley will finally love him back. 

Rosalia Bolivar and Ophelia Caras are allegedly dating. Their first date seems to have taken place at the blood drive. How....you know what. I don’t have words for that. That’s weird as shit. Who in their right mind who would that? I guess they could be cute, I’m sure their next date will be breaking into a morgue at this rate. 

Leon Reddicks went dumping money on a dress for Sofia Bolivar. I didn’t know guys still picked out clothes for their date to wear, then again I’m not as fancy as Leo, nor as irresponsible with my money.  But hey, I’ve got my eyes on a  nice pair of Louboutin’s if you’re willing to dress a girl up, Leo.  

In case you’re still wondering about that female faculty love triangle is apparently still a thing. Daleka Blackwood and Carmen Bloom hit it off after Daleka left a bra on Carmen’s chair in her classroom, it was retaliated with glitter. Daleka then cozied up to Florence Sinclair in the theatre, because apparently nothing is sacred around here. But Florence and Carmen were spotted in Florida for a pre-Valentines Day romantic getaway. Though a little birdie tells me that Tobias Ford has the hots for Professor Bloom as well. Now is anyone here going to step up or are we going to have to suffer this love rectangle during classes we’re paying for? 

Kai Moon and Jihoon Bae are still disgustingly in love with each other.  How can they still deal with each other? I don’t understand? But good for them I guess. It gives my frozen black heart hope for the future, you know until Jihoon ruins it by being the giant douchebag playboy we know he really is. He did forget to mention to Kai that he was engaged when they started dating. Some people don’t change and maybe Kai should jump ship before it’s too late. 

The dance studio seems to be heating up finally. Jade Ibuki seems to be thawing the frozen popsicle that is Adelaide Hsü, maybe the rest of us can finally be around her without getting frostbite from the ice witch. 

The mens soccer team is about to get really awkward. Everett Paislee (of the twelve thousand Paislee’s) went on a date with Aurelia Knight, the “coaches assistant” who doesn’t know a thing about the sport. Maybe he spent the entire time mansplaining the game to her. But like, if there’s an opening for Aurelia’s spot, let me know, I wouldn’t mind helping out a game of skins vs skins. 

This was almost painful to write. But happy valentines day losers. Don’t forget about your neighborhood witch. I’m only able to be sustained on gossip, wine, and tacos. All of which I need you to provide for me. Drop me a line anytime and tune in next time for a fun story about how the swim team is falling into little teeny tiny pieces. 

#blast

[wexhappyxfew]

“Don’t leave my sight again” for Kennedy and Bucky! Only if you want! I love your writing! <3

HI SWEET ANON!!!!! thank you so so much for popping this in the askbox and for the love on my writing! it means SO MUCH!! i had a lot of fun with this one - we went in a direction i wanted to explore a bit more with the kennedy x bucky dynamic, especially their ever-present bickering about sports with their (respective) red sox and yankees, hehe. i really enjoyed this prompt because i could still utilize the dynamic i wanted, but inject the prompt into the writing in a way that was more heartfelt and meaningful than anything, so, please enjoy!! :D

lips itching to grin

(a/n): kennedy x bucky girlies, we're back and better than ever and focusing on the early days again with these two, specifically in the ever-present baseball rivalry (with a side of heartfelt and slightly flirty banter that neither side may or may have not predicted.....). ps: there's a whole lot of baseball references in here along with a deep dive into the red sox and yankees baseball almanac of 1942 players, as (to preface) they discuss a yankees x red sox game from 1942, with some of their own perspectives (though we enter the conversation in the middle lol). please enjoy!!! <3333

"Alright, well, runners on first and second, game-tying run at second, bottom of the 5th," Kennedy started, as she watched Paulina offer one of the newer replacements a dance as Billie Holiday sung with those swing trumpets over their heads, "you got Joe DiMaggio coming up with two outs. Dick Newsome's already at 78 pitches."

"Easy," Bucky offers as Paulina and the replacement move out towards the center of the floor and start dancing - Kennedy likes seeing her smile, "DiMaggio hits an RBI double and makes it to second base. Then you ain't even tied up anymore. Score's 4-3."

"But," Kennedy started, glancing upwards at him with a look as she tilted her head, a smile on her cheeks, "you got Charlie Keller up next. Getting to that point in your roster where it gets a little….hairy."

"Says the one with Joe Cronin on your-"

"Focus." Kennedy said snapping in front of his face, bringing a smirk onto his lips as he looked back at her, "We're talking about the fucking Yankees right now, Bucky."

"Don't call them the fucking Yankees."

"They're the fucking Yankees to me, got it?" she said and she watched Bucky turn from his position leaned up backwards against the bar to actually facing her, "What?"

"You get really passionate about your Red Sox, huh?" he said, leaning his hand up against the side of his face and watching her, "I'd hate to mess with you-"

"You already have." she told him in a sing-song voice as she turned and took a sip of her beer and looked out to the dance floor again, "Try growing up as the only girl in a house full of brothers. You either play baseball or you are the baseball, I'm afraid." Bucky snickered at that and sipped his own drink - bourbon maybe, she could smell it on his lips from here.

"What the hell kinda baseball did the Farley brothers play?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Clearly not that great of baseball, you're all Red Sox fans."

"Says the one who willingly became a Yankees fan."

"Willingly-"

"At least I grew up in the area! It makes sense!"

"Can't knock me, Yankees' got a fan all the way from Wisconisn - can't say the same about other teams now, huh?" Bucky said leaning towards her with a grin, "Gotcha there, huh?" Kennedy watched him.

"Bill Dickey comes up and goes out swinging," Kennedy said, staring him down, "Red Ruffing's taken outta the game. Atley Donald's up on the mound. Johnny Pesky's up to bat. Donald walks him. Tony Lupien comes up - an absolute bomb outta the field. Rest of the game is a no-go. Red Sox win. 6-4."

"For someone who despises the Yankees, you sure do know a whole lot about them." Bucky said, sipping his drink again, "It's cute. You trying to impress me with that Yankees stuff."

"I just know a whole lot about games where my Red Sox win," Kennedy mouthed back, the tops of her cheeks burning, "you'd know if I was trying to impress you."

"When's that happened?"

"Never."

"Huh."

"Exactly." she said, sending him a look and he smirked again, his eyes watching her in that manner they always seemed to, "What's that look for?"

"What'd you usually play?" he asked her, that lazy grin growing on his face, "C'mon, I know you were probably in a group of kids that got together to play. What were ya? No….let me guess. First base, you're pretty tall." She stared at him and raised a brow. "No?"

"What about this," she started, standing up straight and holding out her arms, "screams first base, huh?"

"Fine. Shortstop. Speedy, quick-witted-"

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't get in over your head."

"Continue…." Kennedy said with a smirk.

"Shortstop." Bucky said, "Final answer."

"Ding-ding, you're correct," she said with a smile, "usually my older brother and I fought over that position. He usually gave in."

"You were convincing enough." Bucky said, sipping his drink again.

"I was better than him." she offered back, catching that look on his face, "What, like it's hard to believe?"

"Nah, nah," Bucky said shaking his head back and forth and grinning, before avoiding her questioning entirely, "you like hitting?"

"Usually was middle of the pack, sometimes cleanup, I flip-flopped." she said with a winning smirk, "Wasn't often I got cleanup though, my older brother, he's a fucking giant, like 6 foot 5 or something - Bobby - he usually could drive in any and all runners. Sometimes he let me in the spot. It was usually some stupid fight we'd have, but he'd let me have my ways sometimes. Which was nice." Bucky grinned at her again and she couldn't tell whether that was just how he decided to look at people or if there was something else going on behind those eyes and that smile. But she just left it for the time being and took to sipping her drink again.

An upbeat Ozzie Nelson beat came over above them, which immediately sent Kennedy thinking of home again - its summer, the windows are open, her mother's got the radio playing the music she always used when cleaning the house; a mix of Artie Shaw, Billie Holiday, Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman. Sometimes even some Ray Noble. Any sort of music as such would remind her of that time in her youth, racing around the house with her brothers, this music in her ears, the kitchen smelling like lemon soap and freshly scrubbed, the linens hanging outside, the sound of her mother sweeping and shooing away her brothers or their dog, Gunny.

"My ma loves this music," Kennedy said with a smile, looking out to the dance floor as people danced and clung onto one another, as if it were the only thing they had apart from those flying coffins - human touch, more important than anything when they were here, "she played it all the time at home."

"She a big band fan?" Bucky asked her, and she looked to him with a smile and nodded. The corners of his eyes grew soft - she noticed he did that sometimes when he was really listening to you; really, really listening. When she had first noticed it, she'd been taken back at the intensity with which he would watch and listen, but he did it so subtly she had never really noticed until now.

"Always has been." Kennedy said with a nod, "I mean, with five sons and one daughter, there isn't a whole lot of space to listen to quiet jazz, or…something or other. Everyone always wanted big band being played." Bucky let out a bark of a chuckle and then got quiet again, glancing her way with that cautious look painted on his face. He knocked her shoulder lightly.

"And you?" he asked her, a slightly playful look on his face, lips itching to grin again.

"What about me?"

"What do you like?" he asked her, "What does Kennedy Farley dance around to her when no one's looking?" Kennedy couldn't help but laugh, a real genuine laugh and shake her head.

"Usually Benny Goodman or Glenn Miller."

"Like mother, like daughter." Bucky said with a smile, "What's she doing now ya think? Your ma?" Kennedy shrugged, feeling slightly homesick at the thought of her Ma, at home, with all her children off to war, or college, or school, her husband off to work, leaving her in that big house all alone. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly and she couldn't fight the sad expression off her face.

"Probably getting dinner ready - she makes a damn good beef stew. Chop the carrots, onions, celery. Let the beef sit and marinate for a while. The whole house would smell almost like Christmas Eve," Kennedy said softly, before quirking out a grin, "waiting for Dad to get home from work." She stared at Bucky who watched her back. "Your ma?"

"Much of the same probably." Bucky said, leaning up against the bar and schooling his features evenly, "Cooking up dinner, waiting for my dad to get home." Bucky smiled almost bittersweetly. "Wish she didn't have to be there alone, ya know?"

"Yeah," Kennedy said quickly, her emotions warping with her intense want to berate him yet again over baseball, but her softer side took over and she looked at him, "I don't doubt though if I went home, she'd be telling me 'Don't leave my sight again.'" Kennedy said with a small smile. "Broke her damn heart for me to come out here. Only daughter. One of the youngest." Bucky watched her, his face quiet, his expressions even and he seemed at once, intently focused purely on her.

"She didn't want me to come." Kennedy told him honestly, feeling like if she didn't get it off her chest now, she never would tell a soul, "Here. Flying B-17s, being a gunner, getting my hands on a .50 cal. She hated the idea of all of it. But I guess she let me go because she knew it was what I wanted. What I needed. For me." She looked over at Bucky and saw nothing but that gentle, fond expression on his face. She smiled slightly. He smiled right back, almost instantly.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," he said, watching as her face morphed from sadness to mild surprise, to which he laughed at, "yeah, I swear to ya, Farley. I really am. Hey, who was it that saw you shooting that .50 cal back in training and hand-picked you for my gunners, alright?" She was quiet. "That was me."

"And then of course Birdie took you under her wing and the rest is history, but I didn't forget that at some point in time, you were one of my waist gunners," he said, knocking her shoulder lightly again, "a good one at that, you know that?" Just hearing Birdie's name made her heart squeeze.

"It's really nothing special-"

"You shot Expert, Farley," he said, holding her gaze with a firm look, "that sends eyes wandering, I promise ya."

Oh.

She watched him for a moment before her fingers were getting twitchy and she needed something for them and to get herself to look away from that look in his eyes.

"Cigarette?" she asked him, pulling from his gaze to dig her hand into her pockets and produce the slightly crumpled cigarette packet she always had on hand. He watched her before slowly nodding.

"Sure." he said, as she innately popped open the top and produced two cigarettes, sliding one onto her lip and the other into his own hands, "Thanks."

"The least I could do for a compliment like that." she said, almost bashfully, as he placed it on his lip with a chuckle.

"First time anyone's ever told you that?"

"People don't tell me a whole lot of things like that ever so," Kennedy started, before attempting to smile, "yeah, first time for everything" Bucky watched her curiously as he produced a lighter and leaned forward to light up her cigarette before doing his own.

"Really?" he asked her, almost surprised - why would he need to act surprised, why did he even bother to care? She nodded. Bucky watched her for a moment, fingertips drumming against his cigarette as he stared at her; his gaze not one she was entirely even turning away from or wanting to.

"Cleanup." She stared at him, raising a brow.

"Tell Bobby Farley that you shoulda been in cleanup in the lineup." Bucky said, turning towards the bar again and calling for another drink, "Shortstops are usually closer to the top of the lineup anyway, right?" Kennedy watched him, her heart pounding.

"Bucky-"

"I woulda put you in that clean-up spot any day of the week, believe me." he said, smiling at her, with a grin, before turning to the bar and getting his drink. And she recited deep from within her mind, something Bobby Farley had taught her well and good in their screaming matches - 4th slot in the lineup, cleanup spot, usually one of the more or most important players in the lineup; they're powerful, drive in runs and more than anything are one thing - consistent.

#OKAYYYYY #BUT THIS WAS SO FUN #i had been wanting to do this piece for a WHILE #like a straight up talking baseball piece #AND HERE IT IS!!!! #always the not-so-subtle flirting going on with this too like #yall #hellooooo #we see you and hear you loud and clear #the cleanup/shortstop compliment too? #yeah in baseball terms that's a pretty top tier compliment - people must trust u a whole lot #LIKE OK BUCKY I SEE U #(communicating in the sports language she thrives in best <3333 yelling about sports teams ahhhh true love) #kennedy u will always be iconic lets be fr #kennedy x bucky #kennedy farley #bucky egan #bucky egan x oc #john egan x oc #also hi: birdie faulkner mention !!!!! #and YES kennedy *was* a waist gunner for bucky a long while ago #I JUST THEM!!! THEM (distant screams) brb dont mind me fangirling over them in my head (remembers i must continue to write them to continue #to fangirl HEHE) #THANK YOU ALLLLL!!!! <3333

[wexhappyxfew]

WOMEN OF SILVER BULLETS

the OCs of B-17, Silver Bullets (featured in MOTA-verse writings) and various masters of the air adjacent writings

all these OCs will be featured in various one-shots and prompts in the coming months. can be found under tags with all their names or #mota writings or #silver bullets. please enjoy!

ANNIE BRADSHAW

-> replacement 1st lieutenant and pilot for Silver Bullets, fresh in from Fort Des Moines, trying to patch up the holes in a crew suffering from the loss of their beloved captain birdie faulkner. hailing from mankato, minnesota, she is a wonderfully receptive listener and stoic presence - but don't go overstepping it with her crew. makes it her very mission that the women of Silver Bullets and captain birdie faulkner are remembered. can play a tune on a trumpet (if warranted).

FRANCIS MONTEZ

-> copilot of Silver Bullets grieving a loss she is taking harder than she thought, wrapped in sorrow and guilt that she tries her best to hide. a good-hearted californian, she wrangles with this new era of her life with the help of replacement pilot, annie bradshaw, and steps up in more ways than one. carries a cigarette pack around like it's strapped to her very being. will give you a nickname that she'll call you any chance she gets.

BESSIE CARLISLE

-> navigator for Silver Bullets, with the brightest smile the sun's ever seen from the skies (says her boyfriend). hailed all the way from queens, new york with the intention to get her hands working on the mechanic floor of a factory and got a gig flying planes instead. got placed in navigation one day and ever since then, has made it her duty to make sure every mission goes right down to the degree.

CARRIE ACHTERBERG

-> german-american bombardier on Silver Bullets making sure the enemy pays in any way they can for the costly damage of a horrid war (enter: norden bombsight). grew up in brooklyn, new york, had some run-ins with bessie carlisle and the two became thick as thieves when working on planes. blowing the enemy to shreds seemed to be the cherry on top.

MARJORIE ‘MARGIE’ HARLOWE

-> flight engineer on Silver Bullets who grew up in a large family with at least four dogs all named after flowers, on the shores of lake michigan, wanting to go to school for physics ever since she felt herself get the knack for mathematics. only up until then, did she find herself on a plane with her cousin (who nearly crashed it) that she then got herself in line for flying in B-17s and looking to the skies above (and calculating vectors from the ground).

PAULINA STAGLIANO

-> italian-american radio operator for Silver Bullets, who came in from philadelphia, pennsylvania with radio operator experience in the WAC before getting the call for a job with captain birdie faulkner, and finding herself up in B-17s on the regular. she's passionate, a loyal friend and if you talk bad about the phillies -it's on sight (usually has sports arguments with kennedy farley - they keep bickering to a minimum).

VIVIAN RATCLIFF

-> hailing from fort collins, colorado, viv ratcliff comes with a wealth of knowledge and experience as a gunner on Silver Bullets, with a father who was in the army and her boyfriend in the navy. 'calm, cool, collected' are the best words to take her in as, usually found collecting flowers after missions for the boys who didn't get a chance to make it home. keeps a tally of german fighters that go down on the wooden pole beside her cot.

KENNEDY FARLEY

-> irish-american gunner on Silver Bullets, opposite viv ratcliff, coming in from boston, massachusetts, raging red sox fan with a family of brothers going on to military or sports (much of the same). close friends with margie harlowe because she 'softens her up a bit', and always willing to stick around for a drinking game or two. passionate friend (margie told you so).

JUDY RYBINSKI

-> polish-american farm girl and turret ball gunner for Silver Bullets from hot springs, north carolina, growing up near the french broad creek, summers spent on the river, catching fish and milking goats for her families business. went hunting with dad a few times, and grew up with her older brothers going off to the military or college and wanted a hand at it all. captain faulkner was her opening (and the person she needs most now).

MARIANNE SALINGER

-> french-american aspiring painter from rochester, new york, now a tail gunner for Silver Bullets. thought she was signing up to paint planes, but ended up finding a knack for guns on turrets and credits captain faulkner for her 'in' on flying. has a pet cat that roams the base as he wishes (he's named frank, after her one true love, frank sinatra), usually getting into trouble by pissing off a husky named meatball.

#mota writings #silver bullets #the ladies!!!! #and their vibes! #THEM #annie really is that™️ girl #masters of the air #masters of the air ocs #mota #annie bradshaw #francis montez #bessie carlisle #carrie achterberg #marianne salinger #marjorie ‘margie’ harlowe #kennedy farley #paulina stagliano #vivian ratcliff #judy rybinski #THE GIRLS!