#algy lacey

[sholiofic]

If you're still taking prompts for Biggles - then Bertie, Algy and Fritz on a hunting weekend in Chedcombe? Maybe make it a casefic where there's robbers/spies/murderers? I imagine Fritz being a very skilled horseman, like his uncle :D

I am back to answer fic prompts! This is a LOVELY prompt, and I don't have a full story in my head for it, but have a little snippet of their weekend <3

--

Fritz had been uncertain and shy about the weekend's invitation, but after a slightly awkward car ride and even more awkward introduction to the Chedcombe staff, he was charmed immediately by the horses.

"We've a quiet old lass in the stables here, Lady is her name, you might enjoy her," Bertie suggested, while Fritz was making friends with all the horses, petting and talking to them.

"Oh, but I like this one very much," Fritz said, stroking a silky equine nose. "He's beautiful. I would very much like to ride him. What is his name, please?"

"That's Jupiter, old boy, he might be a bit much for a novice rider, but let's see if he's been getting his daily gallop, what?"

The groom saddled the horses for them. Fritz listened avidly to Bertie's explanations, mounted with a little awkwardness but sat his saddle proudly, adjusting his grip on the reins swiftly at a word from Bertie.

"Let's walk him round a bit, what? Good form, lad," Bertie said happily. "You've ridden before?"

"Only a little. There wasn't much opportunity back home."

"Chip off the old block, I say," Bertie declared, and Fritz flushed and ducked his head. Meanwhile, Algy mounted up on the blue roan hunter he had selected for himself. After a few more turns round the paddock and some corrections to Fritz's seat, Bertie announced them ready for the gallops -- or the walking trails, at least.

"Chip off the old block, what?" Bertie repeated to Algy as they rode behind Fritz, who sat upright and natural, holding the rein self-consciously but with a relaxed grip. Several of the dogs from Bertie's kennels coursed alongside. The well-trained horses danced only a little at the dogs' presence, and Fritz, reacting almost instinctively, tugged his horse back under control when it began to prance.

"Exactly what we all hoped for," Algy said dryly, but he said it quietly, so that Fritz couldn't hear. 

"I told you the lad's a natural. Jolly old Biggles doesn't know what he's missing."

"Jolly old Biggles would be bored off his head in an hour and driving the rest of us up the wall by evening."

Bertie laughed. "Right there with you, right with you. The Chief and Ginger will most likely have found an entire smuggler's den of criminals by the time we're back. Not to speak of old Erich--"

"Let's not speak of him, then," Algy said between his teeth.

But whatever Biggles, Ginger, and (regrettably, in Algy's eyes) von Stalhein might have been getting up to back in London, the Chedcombe parkland and forest lay golden-green and lovely in the afternoon sun. They flushed a pair of foxes, but Bertie called back the dogs -- "Just a married couple on a stroll, let's give 'em a little space" -- and they ended up walking the horses down to a lovely pond with ducks paddling about and pheasants on the far grass. It was a soul-soothing place after all they'd been through, and Fritz looked delighted.

[black-bentley]

Find The Word

Thanks to @california-112 for the tag!

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the words in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word).

The words I'm working with are button, real, likely and watch.

The words I'm passing on are quick, leg, blink and wait!

These are all Biggles, natch, and none of them have titles so they will be swathed in mystique...

Button

In which Algy reappears after going missing for a couple of days.

"He'll be all right," said Biggles reassuringly. "Got off lightly, all things considered. Three broken ribs, two black eyes, one busted nose, and a—"

"Partridge in a pear tree?" offered Bertie.

"I was going to say, 'a mild concussion'. You can both go in and see him now, I was just coming out to fetch you."

When they entered the room, Algy was sitting up in bed and looking surprisingly cheerful. Despite all the worry and the self-recrimination of the past two days, Ginger felt a relieved grin break out on his face at the sight. Algy had, as Biggles had said, deep purple bruising around both eyes and across the swollen bridge of his nose, as well as a scrape on his forehead and a badly split lower lip. Ginger could just see the edge of a bandage above the buttons of his pyjama jacket.

Real

AU fic, where Ginger doesn't meet Biggles or Algy until he's posted to 666 in 1940.

Because it was a shame, really, that his new flight commander had turned out to be such a posh twat. He'd remembered while he was sorting out his appearance how he knew the name: this would be Algy Lacey, Biggles's business partner and co-pilot in their globe-trotting years between this war and the last. Thwarting smugglers and chasing down jewel thieves, real Boy's Own Paper stuff. There was probably still a dusty box of newspaper cuttings at Ginger's parents' house, if his father hadn't thrown it out. Based on that, he'd been expecting a man in a similar mould to the skipper; they were cousins of some kind—but then again, weren't all these well-bred types related?—and there was a familial resemblance that was more than passing, but that was where the likeness stopped.

Likely

MORE POST-TERAI FIC, who's surprised?

Algy couldn't remember the last time he'd been out for a joyride with Ginger. Whenever it was, their roles would most likely have been reversed, with Algy at the controls and Ginger in the co-pilot's seat; even then, it would probably have been more in the way of an instructional flight than a lark. It was something he and Biggles had done a lot in their younger years, heading out for the day with a picnic or just spending a couple of bright hours doing some aerial sightseeing, but since Ginger came along they'd done a lot more flying for a living than for fun.

It was a good day for it: high cloud and a light breeze, the spring sun surprisingly warm where it shone through the Auster's windows. Algy found he was slightly disappointed that there hadn't been a hamper in the boot along with their jackets, and not just because that would have delayed the point in the day when they had to go home so that he could resume the important business of doing as little as possible.

Watch

Algy receives an unexpected invitation.

Algy glanced at his watch. He had no idea where the invitation had come from, or how it had found him, but from the moment he opened it there was no possibility that he wouldn't attend. Which meant he had a little over nine hours to somehow put together a suitable costume. He was definitely going to need some help.

He hurried out of his room, and banged on the adjacent door with his fist. There was a muffled and extremely impolite response from the other side.

Tagging @philomytha, @sholiofic, @dotsayers and @sweetsorcery, and anyone else who wants to do it...

[dotsayers]

WIP snippet tag game

tagged by @black-bentley! i have a suspicion what you want here and i can't deny you...

“I assume this is not a coincidence,” said von Stalhein, after a long, not-quite-comfortable silence. His voice was clear and quiet, not slurred by alcohol or choked with pain. Biggles heard, once again, that high and breathy moan. He shifted slightly against the wall. “You do not make a habit of loitering in alleyways in your spare time, I believe.” “Not as a rule,” Biggles replied. “But when I am given a reliable report as to the whereabouts of a Soviet operative–” “Oh, Christ,” Erich interrupted. It was out of character for him, Biggles thought. “That was Lacey.” He covered his face with one hand, shoulders slumping. His collar shifted, revealing the bite mark in full. It had begun to bruise at the centre. “I hoped I was mistaken.” “You were rather distracted at the time,” said Biggles. Algy had assumed Erich’s presence was purely a cover of some sort, and his public display at the club - described in as little detail as possible - part of it. “But yes. Algy and Ginger are both regulars. It’s unfortunate - or fortunate, I suppose - that you should have chosen this place for your leisure time, while you’re in London.” Erich did not uncover his face. His breathing had hitched slightly as Biggles spoke, but that might have been a delayed reaction to the hand around his throat. “I ought to have guessed that wherever I went, I could not shake your tail.”  Biggles smiled. “For once, it was a true coincidence. But I don’t want to talk about that.” Erich stiffened. “And what is it you do wish to talk about?”  “I know what happens in places like this,” said Biggles. “But I can’t help but be concerned when I see it happening to a man I – care for.” This was clearly the wrong thing to say. Erich dropped his hand and clenched his teeth. “Your kindness truly knows no bounds,” he sneered. He dropped his cigarette and ground it into the cobblestones with his heel. “What do you care if I spend an evening here or there enjoying the baser things in life?” 

tagging... anyone who wants to do it. i feel like i've tagged everyone recently

[northoftheroad]

Merioneth Towers

From ”North Wales, a tourist guide”

Merioneth Towers is one of a series of fortresses constructed after Edward I’s conquest of Wales, 1277–1283, to create a defensive ring. It is situated on top of a slope, close to the river, to enable the castle to be supplied by a waterway. After the conquest, the crown retained control of parts of north Wales, and Merioneth was one of the shire counties created.

Merioneth Towers was built ca 1297–1302, a rather small and compact castle built by local grey-green sandstone. It has a rectangular plan and was surrounded by a water-filled moat, an outer curtain wall with two gates, and the inner curtain wall with four towers, one in each corner. There are also two small towers behind the gatehouse.

James St George (ca 1230–1309), who was responsible for most of the castles built in Wales in the period, was not directly involved in Merioneth Towers. However, there are enough similarities with some of his work to suggest that he might have helped with the plans or that a local architect took inspiration from St George’s building projects.

During the Welsh uprising in the 14th and 15th centuries, the castle fell into the hand of the insurgents in 1404 but was recaptured by the crown the year after. During the Civil War, Merioneth Towers was held by forces loyal to the king until 1645, when it surrounded to the Parliamentary army. It was garrisoned by Parliament for some time and was left in charge of Henry Lacey. Lacey became a royalist during the Cheshire uprising of 1659, and on the Reformation was made 1st Baronet of Merioneth and was bequeathed Merioneth Towers from the crown. The castle has been in the Lacey family ever since.

Today the outer curtain wall is almost completely demolished, and only part of the moat remains, partly widened as a pond. On the inner ward, additional building took place in the 18th century when a Georgian style brick building was constructed to offer a modern and more comfortable home. There is also an additional annexe from the same period outside the castle, where parts of the outer curtain wall have been built into the back wall. Over time, the once-massive walls have been perforated and fitted with windows as Merioneth Towers has become less of a fortress and more of a stately manor.

Illustrations:

Sketch ”Thunder cloud over the Towers” from 1823.

Picture postcard of Merioneth Towers, 1951.  

Plan of Merioneth Towers.

Note: This is, of course, entirely made up but nevertheless well-grounded in the history of North Wales’ castles.

Note 2. To my usual audience. As you realize, this has nothing to do with my primary blog subject. It's a spoof tourist guide text I made for another (much smaller) fandom years ago and that I wish to safeguard. 

[gayness-and-mayhem]

Back to reading Biggles and it hasn't even been that long but I'd forgotten how much I love Algy.

[fuzzysparrow]

In the 'Biggles' books by W. E. Johns, which of Biggles' friends has the surname Hebblethwaite?

'Biggles' is a series of children's adventure books written by W. E. Johns. The series contains around 100 books about James Bigglesworth "Biggles", a pilot and adventurer. Biggles first appeared in 'The White Fokker', published in the first issue of 'Popular Flying' magazine in 1932. Later that year, a selection of stories were published in a book called 'The Camels are Coming'.

Ginger Hebblethwaite, a teenage runaway, first appeared in 'The Black Peril' (1935). His real first name was never revealed but Biggles immediately nicknamed him "Ginger" because of his red hair. Ginger had run away from home because he wanted to become a pilot.

Biggles lied about his age to serve as a fighter pilot in the Royal Flying Corps (RFC) during the First World War when he was only 16. Since the war, Biggles occasionally completed secret missions, often accompanied by his cousin Algernon ('Algy') Lacey and his mechanic, Flight Sergeant Smyth.

Ginger joined Biggles on his adventures and proved his worth by rescuing the pilot from some enemy agents. After this, Ginger became one of the regular team and was often Biggles's chosen companion. He also became a talented mechanic.

William Earl Johns (1893-1968) was an English First World War pilot, who wrote the 'Biggles' adventure stories under the pen name Capt. W. E. Johns. Some of the stories were loosely based on his experiences as a pilot.

[getthenurse]

Oh jeez!

/ So! I went ahead and decided to finally put together a masterlist of all of my terrible blogs. Fair warning, a lot of these are ancient and largely inactive.

Pete Kowalski: @getthenurse

Derby Harrington: @harringtonroyalty

Trent Northwick: @chicksdicksandacting

Kirby Olsen: @whowantspoundcake

Juri Karamazov: @yaoiandjuri

Lucky DeLuca: @luckydelame-o

Piers Bouchard: @piersmyheart

Henry 'Clint' Cohen: @clintakahenry

Lacey Simms: @gymnasty

Ivan Alexander: @ivantheedgelord

Russell Northrop: @barbaricn

Mariana DeLuca: @marianah

Justin Vandervelde: @theseyolkscrackmeup

Jacob 'Bucky' Pasteur: @neandermans

Enoch Browne: @freaklingx (largely inactive)

Ace Vaughan: @plantsrbetterthanpeople

Constantinos Brakus: @pessimisticpessimism

Zoe Taylor: @fuckthisschool

Algernon 'Algie' Papadopoulos: @mymommythinksimbeautiful

Tom Gurney: @bruisedarsonist

Casey Harris: @bullworthsbest

Felix 'Monty' Montgomery: @thecoolteacher

Alastair Valentine: @asphyxxxiate

Aleksei 'Aleks' Ivanov: @aleksigh

Liam Byrnes: @byrning-up

Edgar Munsen: @toptiertownie

Nadya Estrada: @needlenadya

Stefan Cox: @hamburghelper

:,^) /

[scienceknight]

Some oc stuff because I can’t stop myself

Joseph is gay Barry and Brian are pan Jeremy is gray ace and gay Chrys and Angela are bi Maria and Ema are lesbians Lacey and Peter and Juliet are ace Victoria is poly Nagisa is gray ace and oan Dylan and Arthur are demi And Daniel is…. Daniel. No one ever really knows what’s going on with him?

And for the others…

Cami is pan…. and a hardcore flirt Lilith is ace Algy is gray ace And Thomas (? I’m still not sure on his name) is gay Haruka is demi

[sholiofic]

I've read a couple presumed-dead fics where Biggles is the presumed party, but I don't think I've seen one with the reverse dynamic of Biggles thinking EvS dead and coping (or rather, not as the case may be) until the sudden revelation/reunion- which seems like something that would fit your writerly wheelhouse

In my wheelhouse indeed. :D For a longer take on this idea, I also know of a couple of Sakhalin presumed dead AUs:

A Desperate Execution by Philomytha

But At What Price by me

...but there is absolutely NO bad time to write presumed dead.

--

The item came across Biggles's desk in a stack of other reports and files. It was his habit to come into the office early and read the stack of post, analysts' reports, and other items flagged for his attention over a cup of tea before the others got there. When Algy came in, however, it was to find him staring into space, the dregs of his tea going cold at his elbow.

"Something wrong?" Algy asked, taking his jacket off. Then, getting a better look at his cousin's face, he amended it with more concern. "Bad news?"

"What? Oh—no, nothing, I ..." Biggles jerked a little, as if coming back to himself. "A piece of international news that caught me by surprise, that's all." He shuffled the papers he had been looking at into a stack.

"Anything the rest of us should be worried about?"

"No—no, just ... a surprise," Biggles repeated, and as Algy continued to look at him with concern, Biggles hastily opened another file, almost at random.

He continued to be distracted all morning, occasionally missing the others' comments, staring uncomprehendingly rather than laughing at jokes. After a while, Algy went and sat on the edge of Biggles's desk, eyeing his oldest friend and disliking the pallor he saw, a drawn look that made him think uncomfortably of Biggles in wartime. "If you're feeling under the weather, go home. We have things in hand here."

"I'm perfectly well," Biggles said with a surliness that suggested to Algy he wasn't.

"Right," Algy said, hopping off the desk only to take Biggles by the elbow. "Time for lunch. Hold down the fort, lads."

"Wait a minute, we're hungry too!" Ginger protested.

"Get a takeaway then!" Algy said over his shoulder.

In the hallway, Biggles drew himself up stiffly, adjusted his jacket, and said, "You're behaving very strangely."

"I'm behaving strangely? You're either about to go down with a bout of malaria or you've just heard someone died -- oh God," Algy said in a very different tone, as Biggles looked away. "It is that, isn't it?"

He didn't say anything else, but he steered Biggles, not towards the main entrance, but down the back stair that led to a small courtyard with benches. A few people were having their lunches there. Algy walked to the end and sat Biggles on a bench.

"Now look," he said, sitting beside him. "If it's anyone I know, I won't thank you to stay quiet about it. I suppose it's something awful from the way you're acting—it's not old Wilks, is it?"

"No, you've the wrong idea entirely. I knew you'd—oh well, why not." Biggles sighed and reached into his pocket, and pulled out the sheet of typewritten paper he had been reading earlier. Algy hadn't even noticed him tucking it into his pocket, folded and folded again. Algy took it and opened it, noting as he did the softness of the folds that suggested it had already been opened and refolded more than once.

It was an analyst's report; he had become familiar with the dry tone of collated reports distilled from firsthand sources. This was a brief summary about mercenary operations in the North African desert involving cargo aircraft ... an Algerian police action leaving six dead ... the names of the deceased ...

"Ah," Algy said. He laid the paper down on his knee, unsure what to say.

"It shouldn't really be as much of a surprise as all that," Biggles said quietly. "I always knew—well, that I'd see that name on this sort of list someday. I simply felt that ..." He stopped abruptly, looked off into the distance for a minute, and then said, "He was capable of better things. That's all."

Algy rather doubted that, but sensed that now was not the time to say it. "Look," he said, handing back the paper. "D'you suppose there's a—a next of kin, or something?"

Biggles folded up the page with an odd sort of care, handling it gently as if the typewritten sheet of bond meant something to him. "I suppose there must be," he said, looking a little more focused and less pale and unhappy with something to do, as Algy had known he would. "Unless all his people were lost in the war—but no, there must be someone. And they might like to hear from someone who knew him. I'll ask Major Charles about it, that's a good idea, Algy."

Lunch was a bit funereal all the same, and Algy found himself lifting a glass in a toast. "I won't pretend that I liked him," he said. "But a lonely grave in the desert's a hard end, and—and I'm sorry for it." He was a little surprised to find that he meant it, and Biggles smiled a little, the first smile all morning, and clinked glasses.

They ordered takeaway sandwiches for the others and returned to the office. As they came in, Ginger called, "A fellow from the Air Commodore's office was in and left you something, Biggles. Eyes only. Do we have a case or not?"

Biggles strode over to his desk, one hand in his pocket. He swiped up the folded slip from his desktop, opened it, and read it. Algy was close enough to see the swift flash of delight that crossed his face, all the animation that had been absent for the entire morning returning in a rush.

"Oh, it's nothing much," he said casually, and tucked it in his pocket beside the other.

Algy took the opportunity later that afternoon to slip off to the coat room during a quick trip to the loo, and was very much unsurprised by the contents of the slip.

Earlier report from Algiers in error. Five casualties, not six.

Algy replaced it carefully; he supposed it was likely to end up into some box of souvenirs in Biggles' room. So, he thought, not the end of an era after all. But after seeing Biggles that morning—quiet and dull, as if the best part of his bright energy had gone out of him—Algy discovered that he couldn't find it in himself to be too upset about it.

[sholiofic]

Another one for July Break Bingo

Prompt: Fooling Around in the Car 400 words, Biggles/von Stalhein (+ a very annoyed Algy)

"Gaskin's team and the local constable are on their way, what?" Bertie declared, coming back from the general direction of the row of village shops where he had gone in search of a phone. "Where are Biggles and jolly old Erich?"

Algy turned from taking photos of the crime scene from which their jewel thieves had, quite literally, flown the coop—a boarded-up warehouse that had been in use as a makeshift hangar. "Biggles went back to the Bentley for something or other, and I have no idea where von Stalhein got off to, although I hope he's with Ginger, no sense in him wandering around unsupervised." Glimpsing Ginger some ways off, and very evidently alone, an even worse suspicion occurred to him. "On second thought, perhaps I'd better go find Biggles, you do this," he said, shoving the camera into Bertie's hands.

The Bentley was parked around the corner, and just as Algy arrived, Biggles and von Stalhein decamped in some haste from opposite sides of the backseat, slamming the doors. Biggles looked ruffled and flushed, with his hair mussed. Von Stalhein was put together as usual, except for two points of color high on his cheeks and the fact that he was hastily straightening his jacket.

"Oh, God," Algy said. "We're going to have to get the car cleaned immediately."

"No need for that, I have no idea what you're talking about," Biggles said quickly, tugging his collar back into alignment.

Von Stalhein, despite his usual unruffled demeanor, wore a look like the cat that's swallowed the cream (no, no, NO, bad thought, Algy's brain was officially on notice). He reached over to flick Biggles's mussed hair behind his ear, a quick casual movement as he looked straight at Algy and said, "A cleaning is probably in order."

"Erich! Don't—don't encourage him, there was absolutely nothing, nothing to see here," Biggles said, his flush spreading down his neck. "We were consulting on the case, that's all."

"Is that what you're calling it now? I hope you at least found what you were looking for," he added, and then regretted his words immediately at the quick flicker of Biggles's smile, as playful as Algy had ever seen it.

"Oh, I did."

"Deep cleaned," Algy muttered, following them back toward the crime scene and pointedly ignoring the way that their hands brushed before they stepped apart to a professional distance—and, just as much, ignoring what it meant that they didn't mind him seeing it. "Steam cleaned. Actually, there's no fixing it, none."

[sholiofic]

Cuddles4Biggles fill 1

From the Cuddles4Biggles Prompting Fest at Biggles Events on DW.

Team + EvS, sleeping on each other

Originally posted here

[set post-Buries a Hatchet and probably post-Looks Back]

Biggles strode into the Air Police operational office with his mouth open to speak, started to say Algy's name, and then stopped, mouth still half open.

"Do not," Algy said between his teeth, "say a word."

He was sitting on the ragged sofa in one corner of the office. The old sofa was a fixture of the office, drawn out of the way of the desks, where it had provided a soft, if badly sprung, place to nap for more than one tired member of the SAP over the years.

At the moment, it was giving Algy a place to sit, and von Stalhein a place to sleep — slumped on Algy's shoulder.

They'd all had a very long day, in pouring rain, and all of them had been drooping and stumbling with exhaustion when they returned to the SAP office at the aerodrome late that evening. Biggles had seen Ginger and Bertie off first, both of them limping from minor injuries. Algy, for his part, was unhurt, just wet and muddy.

Von Stalhein had said he was completely fine, repeated it several times, in fact, even though Biggles had seen him knocked about and nearly run over by the smugglers they were apprehending. Having him out in the field with the team, in this case to provide translation services, was still a minor miracle that Biggles had not quite adjusted to yet.

Now he gazed at the image in front of him. Algy had one of the scratchy old wool blankets that they kept in the office (for just such occasions as this) wrapped around his shoulders, his hands clutching a heavy old pottery mug of coffee. Von Stalhein had another, similar gray blanket draped over his lap. There was an untouched cup on the spare desk at his end of the couch — well, what had been his end, until he had fallen asleep tilting onto Algy.

"If you might consider providing some assistance," Algy said, low. Still, Biggles couldn't help noticing that he wasn't moving at all, even though his position looked uncomfortable, one elbow on the arm of the sofa and the other resting on his knees.

"Of course," Biggles said quietly. He slipped into the room, straight to Ginger's desk, where Ginger's old box camera sat among a clutter of paperwork, magazines, and stained mugs.

"Do not," Algy said grimly. "Don't—Bigglesworth—don't you dare—I know where you sleep—!"

But he kept his voice low, even as Biggles took his hand off the camera, smiling.

"Would you care for a relief shift, Flying-Officer Lacey?"

"Oh God yes, you have no idea how happy that would make me."

"Of course, if you'd rather have some quiet time to—"

"Biggles," Algy said, teeth almost audibly grinding.

Biggles decided it was a bad idea to wind him up any more, he'd already been a good sport about the entire thing, and slid onto the creaky springs of the sofa in the space between the armrest and von Stalhein's narrow hips. "Erich," he murmured, and putting a light hand on von Stalhein's shoulder, gently moved him a little.

Von Stalhein came awake with a jolt, and Algy, with a swift motion that put Biggles in mind of their long-ago boyish days, ducked out from under the burden and stood up. Von Stalhein blinked, squinting as if the lights in the room were too bright. He raised a hand to his forehead. "I—apologize, I—where am I? Ah," he added, with dazed comprehension, as Biggles steered him carefully to a more or less upright position.

"I think it's time to go home and sleep, for all of us," Biggles said. He kept a hand on von Stalhein's shoulder, steadying him as he swayed in the grip of nearly intractable exhaustion.

"Tell me about it," Algy said loudly, and took his mug off to the kitchenette.

[sholiofic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Biggles Series - W. E. Johns Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Words: 1,222 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Algy Lacey & Erich von Stalhein, James "Biggles" Bigglesworth & Erich Von Stalhein, James "Biggles" Bigglesworth & Algy Lacey Characters: Algy Lacey, James "Biggles" Bigglesworth, Erich von Stalhein Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Coma, Whumpcember Summary: Another early post ahead of the fic deluge, for the Whumpcember post "Coma."

[sholiofic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Biggles Series - W. E. Johns Rating: General Audiences Words: 919 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Biggles" Bigglesworth/Erich von Stalhein, James "Biggles" Bigglesworth & Algy Lacey & Erich von Stalhein Characters: Algy Lacey, James "Biggles" Bigglesworth, Erich von Stalhein Additional Tags: Fluff, Friendship, hair petting, Established Relationship, In-Laws, Family Fluff Summary: Algy just wants to make a swift getaway, but that is clearly too much to hope for. (For a prompt at the Biggles Cuddlefest on DW.)

[sholiofic]

Cuddles4Biggles fill 2

From the Cuddles4Biggles Prompting Fest at Biggles Events on DW.

No heat at the Mount St flat, any characters (Biggles & Algy, gen)

Originally posted here

[this is set somewhere in the 1920s-30s]

"Get your cold feet off my legs," Algy murmured sleepily as Biggles climbed under the duvet with him.

"The heat's out. Bloody new gas hearth, this was never a problem with the old coal one ..."

"Still not my problem," Algy muttered into his pillow, but Biggles was already snuggled up against his back, and seemed to be falling asleep. Algy sighed, punched his pillow, and leaned back against his cousin. Biggles gave a little sigh and relaxed totally in the way that he did when he was completely asleep.

Which Algy knew all too well, because he had fallen asleep more than once with Biggles curled against him like this under scratchy blankets during the war. And he knew that it was more than the cold that drove Biggles out of his bed to seek comfort in Algy's. So he closed his eyes and let himself drift towards sleep as well, with Biggles a warm bulwark at his back, keeping the chill of the night away.

[sholiofic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Biggles Series - W. E. Johns Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Words: 5,535 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Algy Lacey & Erich von Stalhein Characters: Algy Lacey, Erich von Stalhein Additional Tags: Developing Friendships, Post-Canon, Case Fic Summary: Von Stalhein has a problem. Algy finds himself in the awkward position of having to help.

[sholiofic]

There is a breed of working dog that comes in red, and it’s called a Lacy. Lacey is also the name of Barbie’s dog. Therefore, Algy Lacey should be a werewolf and Erich should find that out in an extremely awkward extremely h/c mission gone wrong situation. It’s a prompt of unquestionable logic.

Okay, I looked up the Lacy dog and you are ENTIRELY CORRECT, anon, this dog is definitely Algy.

I have absolutely zero brain for fic at the moment, but I want this fic to exist.

Imagine BOTH of their reactions if Algy forgets himself and licks his face.