#colonel harding

[bcolfanfic]

having a rough day turned rough night. i think he could fix that (:

[nikloka]

Anqa is a menace but speaks what we all think

How I love background dialogues

Anqa talks about Harding and Mercer

[itstheheebiejeebies]

Masters of the Air Episode Three as vintage photographs

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[sweaterkittensahoy]

thanks to @oft-goes-awry I now know Harding's full name is Neil Bosworth Harding, and yeah, I'd go by Chick, too.

[mercurygray]

James Murray as Colonel Neil "Chick" Harding, Apple TV's Masters of the Air

also featuring Stephen Campbell Moore as Major Marvin "Red" Bowman, Edward Ashley as Major Jack Kidd, and Anthony Boyle as Lieutenant Harry Crosby

(photos by Robert Viglasky)

[juniperss]

Another big issue* I have with MOTA’s last few episodes (and honestly a the series overall) was the way they just got rid of characters; like Harding suddenly just wasn’t there and we have a new CO (when Harding was set up to be such an important figure to the men). We don’t get a reunion between Benny and Meatball? We don’t really get to see the return of the POWs and them finding their squads. Hell we don’t even get to see the Tuskegee Airmen after the camp is liberated.

For a show that kinda set itself up to be about the squadrons (in comparison to let’s say the Pacific where the stories seem much more [and intentionally] isolated with just a few strong character bonds) it didn’t feel to me that they kept that going properly. It felt very much, all of sudden, concerned with odd side plots and conversations that could’ve been dropped other than focusing on the character work. It was such a swift change in storytelling that didn’t work for me. I was still left wondering “who are these men really?”.

*I want to be so clear that I’m saying this with all the love for the fandom. This is me being critical because I wanted so much more from the show and was really let down by the last handful of episodes and how the writers + team went about the planning.

[kcsplace]

Harding: I never thought I’d ever get the chance to give you this. Good job. Bucky: You’re...you're giving me a *sticker*? Harding: Not just a sticker. It has a kitten that says “Me-Wow!” Bucky: I’m not a kindergartner. Harding: Alright, I’ll take it back. Bucky: Hey, I earned this, back off!

[television-overload]

I'm shocked that Jane Austen wasn't the oldest sibling. She writes "eldest sister" so well, I was sure she had to be one 😂

[pr-olvdr]

alan rickman 💫

it's crazy what you can do with a marker and an insatiable love for a now deceased british film star

[temeyes]

brush test ft THE colonel

[nikloka]

Someone is not thrilled to see you

Avatar frontiers

Rda

[roseunspindle]

Alan Rickman: What I've Seen Him in

Die Hard - Hans Gruber

Quigley Down Under - Elliot Marston

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves - Sheriff of Nottingham

Sense and Sensibility - Colonel Brandon

Galaxy Quest - Alexander Dane

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - Severus Snape

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - Sverus Snape

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - Severus Snape/Boggart

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - Severus Snape

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Marvin the Paranoid Android

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - Severus Snape

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street: Judge Turpin

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - Severus Snape

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 & 2

Alice in Wonderland - Absolem the Caterpillar

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Bucky: Jack, hey, so question about your whole Colonel fucking thing.

Jack: I'm going to stab you with this cocktail sword until you exsanguinate.

Bucky: Uh-huh. Great. So. When you're doing it--stop poking me; that's annoying. When you're doing it, is he a Chick or does he get Hard-ing?

Jack: (stares over Bucky's shoulder)

Bucky: What? I'm just asking.

Harding (from behind Bucky): Egan, I am giving you zero head start.

Bucky: ::screaming and running::

Harding; I was literally here the whole time.

Jack: He has the situational awareness of a dog with a box on its head.

[rosebudfics]

~PLEASE READ BEFORE REQUESTING~

Minors DNI or lerk in the shadows

Hello fellow snape lovers! This is a new blog however I am not new to writing! I have a separate blog specifically for writing but I will not let anyone know what it is due to the fact that I am afraid I will receive hate/threats because I enjoy Harry Potter. And before anyone comes at me, no I do not condone to the actions that JK Rowling has done!!! I simply just enjoy the series because of how much comfort it brings me.

Request Rules:

I WILL write: fluff, angst, suggestive, female and sometimes gender neutral reader unless its spicy, and domestic stuff!!

I will NOT write: Smut, incest, pedophillia, rape/no consent, racism, homophobia, abuse, professor x student, daddy kink, piss/shit fetish or anything related to those!!

As for the characters I will write for, I will mainly write for Severus Snape however I am open to recieving requests for Colonel Brandon from Sense and Sensibility, Sheriff Nottingham from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Hans Gruber from Die Hard, and David Friedman from Judas Kiss!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will write head canons, drabbles, and short fics! Possibly full length fics if an idea that i really like is either requested or i think of!

Masterlist Below the cut!

Severus Snape

New Professor - Snape x Professor! Reader

Sick Days - Snape x Wife! Reader

Girl Dad - Dad! Snape x Mom! Reader

Secret Lovers - Snape x Wife! Reader

Colonel Brandon

Your Last Night - (ANGST) Colonel Brandon x ill! Reader

Sheriff Nottingham

Nothing yet!

Hans gruber

Nothing yet!

David Friedman

Nothing yet!

[mercurygray]

Routine

Spoilers for Masters of the Air Part Five.

--

Interrogation Hut, October 10, 1943

Routine was the enemy of uncertainty.

Marion had known this to be true for a long time - routine was what got the family through move after move and base after base, what got her father through his hardest assignments and her through starting fresh at half a dozen different schools. Routine was what you had trained on and practiced for and knew backwards, forwards, and inside out.

Following the routine meant that things were normal again.

There was a routine they followed every time a wing went up - wake up, eat breakfast, briefing room, equipment check. There was a routine to start the plane, to clear the runway, to take off, to clear the guns and every man or woman knew his or her place in it. And when they came back, there were routines, too - radio in to tower for your wounded, send out ambulances, come in to debrief. Grab coffee and a doughnut. Sit down. Leave it all on the table. Once these tasks were accomplished, the mission could be considered done. Eat. Shower. Return to the ground.

Today the target was Münster. Marion and her interrogators had reviewed the maps with Bowman and Harding, and understood as well as the men in the planes just what was supposed to happen up in the air. She was waiting for the call from tower - the one that said they'd be expecting their first truck. She checked her watch again - it was getting late, and they were due back an hour since. Perhaps a dead battery? But the clock on the wall had the same time.

She was just about to go through to the other room to phone the tower when there was a noise outside - a jeep pulling up. Someone came through the door, walking fast and looking grim.

"Major Bowman, what -"

He grabbed for her elbow, pulling her in for privacy. "Send 'em back to barracks, Brennan." Red's face was close to hers, his expression hard to read, his voice low. "Please."

She stared, unsure what she was hearing. "What?"

"It's just." He paused, took a deep breath. "It's just Rosenthal, coming in." The enormity of what he was saying sunk in. There was only one plane. "Send 'em back to barracks, I'll do this one."

Marion took a deep breath, very aware that every single eye in the room was on the two of them, locked in conversation. She turned around and put on her most pleasant smile.

"Seems we've got a small crowd today," she said, knowing in her heart of hearts how this would sound and knowing she couldn't make it any better if she'd tried. She also tried not to change her tone as Harding and some of the others came through the door, taking off their hats. "Major Bowman and I will handle these. You're all dismissed."

The interrogators looked confused, but an order was an order and no one was going to argue with her, taking their pencils and folders with them as they trooped out, whispering among themselves.

Harding wandered over to where she was standing, hands in his pockets. "You don't have to stay, Captain. Red's got this."

Marion looked out the windows at the empty road outside. "It's my job," she said, though she wasn't sure she sounded like she meant it. It's the routine. They'll expect it.

Harding looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn't find the words, and frankly she couldn't either. He'd been sweating, out there at the tower - she could see the collar of his shirt was soaked. And somehow, in the moment, it was too much. She strode over to the surgeon's table with its long trays of whiskey, helped herself to a glass, and downed it in a single swig, only to see that Crosby was staring at her.

This is how you know it's bad, she thought to herself, the whiskey warm in her throat. Marion Brennan is having a drink. But she knew from his face she didn't need to tell Harry Crosby that.

--

No record. No record. No record. And one fort - one single, solitary plane, with one single, solitary crew, in the middle of a room that should have been buzzing with voices. Marion felt herself growing smaller, leaning back into the table, hands gripping the edge just so she could feel something, her jaw clenched. Harding sat down next to her, the smell of his cigar and aftershave somehow comforting, his hand nearly on top of hers.

And the poor navigator, slumped across the table from Bowman like a schoolboy who'd forgotten his homework. No record. As if there wasn't anything else you needed to do up there, like stay alive? No expects anyone to see everything.

No one expects to only have one ship come home, either.

Bailey, that was the navigator's name. Rosenthal, and Lewis, and Bailey. The other names were there, somewhere, but she couldn't find them at the moment. Six men, up in front of a jury, because if she and Harding and Bowman weren't enough, here were Blakely, and Kidd, and Crosby, sitting in judgement and listening as they numbered the dead. She's Gonna - down in flames. Forever Yours - hit by rocket. No record. No record. No record.

Bowman nodded and closed his notes, standing up and nodding. "Well. I think that's all, then."

The boys nodded, still looking a little lost, and Marion found her voice. They would end this the way she always did. They would have something routine. "Thank you, gentlemen. You've all done very well today." The looks on their poor faces! But someone needed to say it, so they would hear it, know it to be true. Coming home was not a failure, even if you were the only one. She felt like she was on the edge of tears and she could not cry right now. Captains did not cry in front of their soldiers. There was nothing here to cry about, as far as those poor men were concerned. "Why don't you all get some showers and some hot food?" Calm. Pleasant. Normal. Routine.

They nodded again, rising from chairs and grabbing bags and coats and chutes, slowly filing out of the room, their chairs a jumble around the table.

One table. Six chairs.

They left, and the ops team, too, until it was just her and Harding, sitting alone in the interrogation room. She stood up and froze for a moment, the blood struggling to go to her head. The room swam as equilibrium returned. She could feel Harding standing, too - just to the side of her, one hand on her arm, making sure she did not fall. Be strong, sayeth my heart. You are a soldier. You have seen worse sights than this.

"Marion."

She looked up at him, and suddenly he kissed her, firmly and almost fiercely, right on the mouth. She closed her eyes and leaned in, kissing him back, neither knowing nor caring what rule she was breaking or who was there to see her do it. He was turning towards her, closing the gap between them, one hand on her arm and the other on her face, and something in her broke and whatever had been holding the tears in fell away. Everything was bitter and sweet and without sense all at once, but he was real, warm and protective, and she did not want him to let go, ever. In the moment it was only them, and nothing else.

His hand left her arm and moved into her hair, fingers digging into the back of her curls as he pulled her closer, and somehow the spell broke. She moaned into his mouth and pulled away, breathing heavily. Her lipstick was on his lips and he looked - she didn't have a word for how Neil Harding looked. Agony? Defeat? Submission? Rapture?

"I should go," she said, quickly, raising a hand to her hair to make sure her set wasn't completely gone.

There was nothing routine, about any of this, and she did not like how much she wanted more of it.

[smellycat099]

rammy and colonel noodle holding hands?

Hrhduhdbeusjdjhd hands... Anatomy... 🙂