#robert rosenthal headcanons

[luminouslywriting]

what do you think would be the reactions of the different men when they’re falling for a single mum? I think going with the time it’s more likely a young widow than a girl with a kid out of wedlock but who knows maybe John Brady just feels the desire to make an honest woman out of a poor girl at church who’s man ran off or Bucky takes to teaching his neighbors kid baseball because he sees their mom is stressed… just whatever guys you think would fit this

Nonny, this gave me actual brainrot so I hope you enjoy this so much 🥰🤍 as always, my requests are open and I don’t mind spam haha! More under the cut, cut for length, light spice sprinkled in:

Bucky Egan: (I had to run with the baseball idea haha)

-Absolutely the type of man who does not care about the past sexual history or life of a partner....and he's kinda looking for someone to date at the moment??

-But there's this kid on his block who's about six and he watches this kid attempt to throw a baseball every day and it just pains his soul because the form is awful and where is this kid's dad??

-So one day, he rolls on over to the yard of said kid and just starts offering pointers—he always wanted to be a baseball coach in his free-time and he just hasn't gotten around to it yet

-This sweet little boy makes him a deal that if Bucky comes over and teaches him how to throw a ball, lemonade will be made and given by you (his mom) and he will help Bucky paint his fence

-Bucky thinks it's a swell idea and it's at this surprising point to you that your son brings in the attractive war hero Bucky Egan straight to the kitchen and demands lemonade

-Well you and Bucky get to talking and you tell him that your husband died in the Pacific pretty early on in the war and your son has never really known a father

-That being said, it's a slow burn. He really enjoys getting to spend time with you and your son and he's afraid that he'll mess things up. But then your kid is inviting Bucky to dinner and you're telling him that it's no problem and you usually make too much food anyway.

-And somewhere along the way, he starts thinking of your house as more of a home to him than his own lonely home that he purchased. So naturally, this man panICS and has to call Gale and ask what he should do because he doesn't want to spook you or ruin the nice thing you've got going on.

-Gale definitely has to reassure him that if you both clearly want him there, then he should just go for it; Bucky deserves to be happy too.

-But he DRAGS his feet in the process....right up until your son accidentally calls him dad after hitting the ball with the baseball bat

-And then there's actual panic between you and Bucky and he's trying to apologize because clearly he's overstepped

-It would be at this point that you have to tell him that it's quite alright and you'd really like to get to know him more...because you like having him around and clearly your son adores him

-CUE THE FIRST KISS (first of many, might I add)

-It's the most darling domestic thing and he absolutely views your son as his son and he's never been so happy in his life

Gale Cleven:

-I think the most logical move here is that he finds you after Marge's passing. It was a short and love-filled marriage for them, but it was gone so quickly.

-He's devastated, naturally. And he doesn't really have anything left in Wyoming, so he sets out for Wisconsin.

-Now the thing about this is that John Egan has married Josephine Pitz—and Josephine Pitz's best friend is you. Your husband was a Marine during the war and died in action, leaving you with two little kids.

-You're doing your best but it's hard being a working single mom during the early 1950s.

-Cut to Josie and John setting this up just so

-Bucky makes the point that your car needs some work and you're a good friend of Josie's

-So this is how Gale Cleven is introduced to you—matchmaking via car-service haha

-Your two boys? Absolutely just wanna watch him work and wanna hear about everything that he's doing to the car

-But you're no fool and you know that Josie and Bucky are trying to set this up for the two of you

-So you just flat-out confront him about it and tell him that they're trying to be sneaky and that you're sorry he got caught up in their schemes

-But the thing is?? He's perfectly happy and used to their schemes. There's also the fact that this is the safest and calmest he's felt since Marge died.

-So he admits that he'd be willing to give this thing a chance if you are

-So it's a slow-burn for the two of you as you're trying to navigate around the fact that you've both already lost a partner and the fact that you have kids

-But he's so good with them and helps with the homework and genuinely just tries his best

-It's not a surprise to anyone when you're married a year later

Robert Rosenthal:

-On his way to the Nuremberg Trials, he meets you—a young lawyer who has recently just found out that you're pregnant (not that you're telling anyone that).

-You two become fast friends and he finds out that your husband was a British RAF Pilot who died. He's entirely sympathetic and sweet about the situation.

-The pair of you team up for the trials and it's amidst the preparations for the Trials that he finds you doubled over with morning sickness. This man assumes that it's the flu. Babe, it is not the flu.

-So a few weeks into you being sick and dealing with the trials, he's getting real concerned and you just have to spill the tea that you're pregnant.

-Not gonna lie, Rosie's heart shatters a little bit for you. It's not as if you want to leave the Trials to deal with pregnancy but you're also a whole ocean away and who do you have to rely on?

-Well he makes a promise that he's gonna help you through it

-And along the way, he's absolutely falling in love with you—with your dedication and kindness, the way that you're soft about the baby and continue to focus on work, and the way in which you're so determined to do everything entirely on your own

-He definitely very quickly makes you an offer that you're a little befuddled by

-The offer is marriage—and the thing is?? It's a damn good offer. You're a recent widow trying to do her job at the Nuremberg Trials, just found out you're pregnant, away from home, and have no support system

-So naturally you accept and this is a marriage born out of convenience and kindness to you....but there is so much affection and care.

-He's had feelings for you for a while and he's perfectly happy taking his time in the relationship and understands that you might not reciprocate the feelings in the same way.

-If nothing else, at least you'll be provided for, your child will have a father, and you'll always have a friend by your side

-It's at this point that your feelings start to develop because he's just such a good person and treats you so well and so clearly loves you

-The two of you are icons during the trials (Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal), and he comes back from Europe with a wife and daughter on his arm....and no, he didn't tell anyone so it was quite a shock to everyone.

John Brady: (Also decided to run with it haha)

-Listen, this man has a picture perfect plan for what he wants to have happen when he gets home from the war and that's all fine and dandy, but this man was NOT planning on you haha

-You faithfully attend the same church as he does and it's pretty obvious that you're pregnant.....

-But man the gossip is bad. And he's not one to listen to idle gossip and just believe what people say. But evidently your fianceé had run off when he found out you were pregnant and had taken any chance of a reputable life. It's ROUGH, okay??

-And the thing is, John Brady is out here just trying to do his Christian duty by seeing if you need any help over at your house....because he also passes it on the way to Church and YIKES, your yard is going through it

-It's the first time that someone just offers to do something nice for you??? You're so thrilled about it

-So he comes over that summer and does your yard work for you and you make little sandwiches and he gets to have lunch with you

-The thing is, you two get to talking and he finds out that you weren't even planning on having kids for a while anyway and it was YOUR former man who wanted to do the deed and refused to help out in any way. This is entirely a man's folly and has ruined things for you.

-Now he feels bad, he does....

-But he's not trying to make a move or anything. At the moment anyway haha. Instead, he invites you to spend some time with his sisters because you need friends anyway and they all have kids so they can help you know what to expect for pregnancy.

-Well it's all going great and he's pretty happy with the fact that you now have a support system and he's starting to make some waves in work. And then the yard is done and finished.

-And for some reason he's offering to help with the plumbing and the inside work too? It's definitely not because he's worried about you and it's definitely not because he's very very attracted to you in any way shape or form lol.

-I don't think anything actually happens until you're right ready to pop....at which case YOU kiss HIM because you're just real impatient

-And he doesn't get to respond to anything because your water breaks and he's taking you to the hospital

-So while you're in labor, this man is processing the fact that he MAYBE really really likes you and has already planned out the rest of your lives together, but that's BESIDES the point

-He still feels like he's taking advantage here....right up until you have a son and you name him Johnny because Brady was the only person that was kind to you during pregnancy and this man just melts on the spot, professes love to you—and tells you that he wants to take care of you for the rest of your life.

-Chef's kiss tbh

[suraemoon]

Rosie Rosenthal Headcanons

~Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal Edition ~

🌹: Hi, Mrs. Rosenthal. Hope you’re doing well. How’s the hubby? These are some Rosie x Reader cute and domestic headcanons that cover some tiny details that make married life even more special

♥️: Fluffy fluff. If you’re feeling horny, stay to the end and I’ll help you, doll. Thats really it. Hope u enjoy.

Humming. He hums softly during the most comfortable silences, making them even more cozy. You could be reading a book on a quiet May afternoon, watching him work at his desk on a cold January night, holding hands while watching the August sunset from your balcony.

Whenever you’re singing a tune, he’s going to hum along with you

Can’t remember the name of that one Ella Fitzgerald song for the life of you? Hum it together until a namesake lyric pops into one of your brilliant minds. Followed by a “Ohhhh, you’re right. It is that one!”

A comfortable hum during the times when you’re crying on his shoulder, his hand rubbing your back in small circles, your cheek against the fabric of his grandpa sweater

Rosie’s blue eyes have always been one of your favorite features of his.

They are as vibrant as technicolor, always displaying so much emotion.

Looking into Rosie’s eyes is a constant reminder that as long as you have him, life will never again be sepia toned.

Rosie spoils you in the most nonchalant ways. Buying his wife a gift is never made into its own big event.

He notices how you eye a certain sparkling necklace while walking hand in hand by the jewelry store window? The next day, those same diamonds are lying on your vanity, waiting to be worn.

For some reason the flowers in the vase on the dining room table never seem to die? Hmm I wonder why.

Little do you know, those roses were replaced with fresh ones last night

Rosie buys beautiful bouquets of flowers as pink as his wife’s cheeks on a chilly day

Hides them in places you’d never look until the sun goes down to rest for the night and you are securely fast asleep next to him

As soft light floods through the windows in the morning, the glass of the vase creates a rainbow and the flowers sitting delicately on display look new as ever

Another small detail that your home would like an incomplete puzzle without?

Him and Hers plaid robes hang gently on delicate hooks behind the bathroom door

Technically, both robes were bought and owned by Rosie before he even met you

But they’re so damn comfy that they’ve become happily coparented between the two of you

Whenever your choice of robe starts to lose the distinct and comforting scent of your beloved husband, the two of you switch in order to replenish

A constant cycle of robe wearing

The record player is the most used and well loved item in the household

Soft jazz fills warmly lit rooms

Not much of a dancer are you? Rosie insists that the two of you slow dance to his favorite love song anyway

Don’t worry, it is not a game of skill. Maybe he hits a silly dance move now and then to distract you from the worry of accidentally stepping on his feet.

He spins you around like Prince Charming does Cinderella until both the rotating and romance makes you a little lightheaded.

He also loves a good candle. (Don’t we all?)

Not only for when he is trying to set the right mood for homemade dates at the kitchen table and nights full of lovemaking in your bedroom

but also to further enhance the warm and comforting atmosphere that fills any room that his love steps into

Cuddling in eachother’s warmth where the cold evening air of the bustling city outside cannot touch you

What else sometimes happens while you two lying in bed on a weeknight? Gossip.

It’s a safe space to talk about anyone or anything

When your little ones start school and the two of you join the PTA, the reason being not because you want to but instead having the “new parent” fear you were the only ones not in it. Do you regret it? No. The tea is unexpectedly piping hot.

“Remember how late we stayed up making those cookies after finding that bake sale flier at the bottom of her bookbag? Today, the Joneses went on and on about how they had a family recipe. Guess what?…their brownie container had a price tag, Rosie.”

Maybe a family member said something utterly ridiculous at the family reunion that you aren’t able to talk about until you’re in the comfort of your own walls

Something that even has Rosie uttering “Now if I was his wife…” or “I don’t know about his mother but if my mother caught me doing that…”

A lot of “I can’t believe that happened” head shakes

A lot of “You were right about that, honey” nods in agreement

Rosie also takes the time to tell you about his cases. Him and his co-workers always act so professional but sometimes you need an outside opinion to confirm how ridiculous some people are.

That outside opinion is Mrs. Rosenthal sitting on the bed stirring a cup of cocoa

Speaking of drinks, Rosie likes his coffee black

You learn that the morning after you spend your first night at his

What else do you learn after that riveting first night? Your man fancies a bath. A warm bath after sex is only part of his phenomenal aftercare routine.

He puts oils into the water, massages your sore thighs, and wraps you in a comfy soft robe when you get out

You two don’t argue often but when you do? You hate to admit it but Rosie is usually right

Even when he isn’t right, he has you second guessing yourself because…he’s a lawyer and being a good arguer is part of the job description

He’s a “I need to get the last word in” kind of person, even if it’s just a snarky or sarcastic comment

You two always make up though!

Make up, makeout, and make love is always the order

My last thot for today…dad jokes

If Rosie is going to do one thing, it’s make you laugh

He’s goes out of his way to see your pretty smile as much as he can

Your sweet giggles can easily compete and win against the sparkling sound of wind chimes

Your laugh is as melodic as his favorite song. It *is* his favorite song.

He’s so good at dad jokes, you have to make him a father. That’s good logic, hm? I definitely think so.

They’re purposefully bad and cheesy. So unfunny that they’re funny and trying to hold in the laugh always fails.

Your husband’s a dork and you love him that way

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! If you’re like “Excuse me ma’am, wheres the smut?” I know where to redirect you. All my dirty thots went towards my friend Marina’s (@precious-little-scoundrel) lovely post about Rosie. It’s so chef’s kiss. 110% recommend. xxxx 💋

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Hello love!

Could you please give a sneak peek of the day Rosie proposed to Ida and how she reacted?

Thank you !

Proposal #1 -for there were many

Thank you for this sweet request, how I adore these two and being given the nudge to finally dig into their fledgling dynamic. Thank you for your patience as I scribbled this out over weeks

Warnings: pretty fluffy, next to none besides a tiny bit of suggestive thoughts and a vague reminiscence of sexual abuse = brief thought process that being alone with a man is courting violence

Rosie x Ida

Date: fall of 1945

This apartment had hardwoods, cherry with perfectly straight painted crown molding and a fireplace. The city screeched and buzzed out the windows, a dizzying drop downward.

“Two doors down, you said?” she asked Robert again, not having in any way, shape or form forgotten how close his apartment was to this prospective new home of hers. It was downright scandalous, and Ida found herself half enjoying that, the look of affronted decorum the bellkeep gave them when Robert snagged the keys to show her -unescorted- the rooms for lease.

“Yeah, two down on the left.” Robert was leaning against the kitchen counter and watching her unproductively trail her fingertips over the hallways paint job. “We could go in together on it.” he added, and that sort of voice of his made her shiver. In a nice way, a panicked sort of nice. When Robert Rosenthal tested the limit it was always with finesse. “Or you could check mine out. It’s got a better fireplace.”

Ida was rusty at flirting but banter she knew. She stalwartly kept her back to him lest those blue eyes make her foolish and continued to stroke the paint. “Does it have hardwoods, though? Mm?”

“I’ve got hardwoods.” his voice had reached a new low and Ida’s spine was alight from it.

She hardly recognized this creature toeing the line with him, inviting scandal, enjoying a man in pursuit, asking to see his apartment. What did she hope to inspire? Presumption? Ruination? Violence, even? There were so many reasons not to enter a bachelor’s apartment alone, and yet Ida asked, “May I see them?”

Robert never denied her anything. That was what was intoxicating about him. Nothing of himself was off limits. Poor behavior and bad decisions? He halted them in her as unwaveringly as her father but of himself? He was a wellspring of generosity. “Of course.”

His apartment was beautiful, if a little bare. Cluttered more than homey, records and case files scattered about but it was clean in the ways that mattered. And it smelled of him, his soap and his cologne and whatever invention he used to maim his curls into submission. She had treasured those scents on his scarf and now she had a whole location to breathe him in. It was staggering.

Robert watched her in his space the same as he had in the empty one, closely, yearningly, from a distance. For Ida to have come at all meant a great deal, she’d told Egan as much in excuse for not going and he’d told her in return she was ready. And here she was, feeling very rash, very torn and not at all like an intern reviewing prospective housing in a new city.

It was never going to be just that. Not with Rosie. She knew that and it terrified her.

“Want coffee?” He offered, breaking the stillness, that’s something she loved about his company, the way he never had to fill the space with more than what they brought to it. “You’re here now.” he cajoled and was already scooping grounds before she gave him a shy nod.

“Coffee would be lovely.”

He hummed as he filled up the pan, tinkering around in a not fully sterile kitchen. It had elements and food products and Ida was glad to see he was taken care of. “Choose a record.” he told her as she spaced out, intrigued beyond reason at the rolled up sleeves along his forearms.

“What?” she startled.

“Put on a record.”

Out of mischief alone she put on Tommy Dorsey. They’d had arguments over this, but he shouldn’t have owned any of he didn’t want her to play a jest. The pumping beginnings of Sunny Side of the Street began to tug into melody when she felt him, so close it would have been reason for spooking except she caught his approach in the reflection of the great glass windows, it was growing dark outside and she was still here and he was making her coffee and his hand on her waist suggested he intended to dance with her.

They were very good at dancing together. She loved their easy flow, missed the feeling of his strength with every spin and turn, his shoulder during a sway, agile hands when he tossed her off. He’d never asked when they were alone. The intimacy was unlike anything she’d ever felt as the coffee gurgled in the background and Dorsey’s trumpets blared and Rosie Rosenthal swayed her beneath his hands and a heavy lidded gaze.

“—Grab your coat, don’t forget your hat but leave your worries, leave ‘em on the doorstep, life’s sweet, just direct your feet to the su-sunny side of the street—“

Ida folded her hand over the soft fabric of his shoulder and laid her cheek there, knowing with a lesser man she’d be asking for trouble. Robert had some in store for her, but not the sort to dread. “I’d make a great to do about this if I didn’t think you’d just up and leave a nice dinner in the middle of my speech—“ he began to talk and she closed her eyes, just breathing him in and feeling him move her in tiny steps along his living room rug. Perhaps his mother had picked it out for him. Ida liked his mother and she liked Ida and she had told her to look after her soon in that grand apartment building. Robert couldn’t budge her from Brooklyn— “so I’m doing it now and I don’t want an answer right now either. But Ida, you know, y-you know this is coming and I’ve got to say it. I want you to marry me.”

Maybe she knew but still, it was startling. She felt her eyes smart and that alone was a surprise, not a sort of response she anticipated of herself. She screwed them shut all the tighter and pressed her cheek nearer to him. He knew so much -how could he ever want this.

“I’ve applied, Ida, to be an assistant council. For the trials over in Germany.” his voice was professional, gentle, she tried to breathe, “The way I see it, you haven’t even begun exams yet, you’ll learn more as my assistant over there than a whole year here floundering without contacts. It wouldn’t be a waste even on the professional level, you know? But that’s not all, you know it’s not all.”

“Robert.” she breathed.

“If they accept me that’s a year apart, that’s me over in Germany and calling you every day and it being too many hours apart and-“ he sounded genuinely panicked himself at the thought, “there’ll be censors and I’ll only get to tell you about the bratwurst I had for breakfast and how we really did a number on the architecture and -Ida, I don’t know about you but I can’t do it. I can’t be without you that long. The you, I mean the you I call and I know and who sorts my day out every evening with your laughs and anecdotes. Ida think on it.”

Oh she’d only ever hoped he felt the same but now he did, it was the most dreadful thing. Because he was right and that was always hard to argue with, but he also seemed genuine and that meant when she declined him he’d only be hurt, genuinely hurt. “I could go, Robert,” she thought it out, “and there’d be no need to marry.”

He shook his head, vehemently and she didn’t have to raise her own to know his eyes were wild and blue, “No, no stay or go I’ve gotta marry you, Ida. You’re it.”

“You like what we have?”

“It’s everything to me.”

“Then let’s not ruin it.” she begged. “It’ll be horrible and awful and if you think you can manage it now that’s all very sweet but one day you’ll not feel the same, and when you do then I won’t be able to take it. I’ll hold you to it, I’ll tell you I told you so. I can’t look the other way, I’m not that sort but you’re young and why won’t you? And I won’t stand for it. Don’t -let’s not ruin it, Robert. You’re too dear to me.”

He cupped a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his, smile lines crunching as he tucked his chin, she loved when he directed her like this. God she loved it. “I’m not wanting to ruin anything.” he replied levelly, “I’m trying to preserve what we have. I want this forever, Ida, forever. This, just this. Doesn’t ever need to be more, I want this.”

The record had begun to skip. “You know so much-“ she choked, “why would you ever want-“

“I love you.” it was always that simple, “And I won’t ever not. And you’re no charmer so you know when your boys and your girls love you it’s for you and you don’t doubt them and I don’t deserve that either, you’re everything good and right and what I believe in, and I wanna wake up next to you in Nuremberg Germany or Victor, New York and I wanna be reminded I’ve got a reason to go on and I wanna slip in beside you at the end of the day in our pajamas and tell you what justice we’ve done and who we’ve locked up -Ida, look me in the eyes and tell me you can do without me. Even if you can, I can’t without you. I can’t. I want you. Think on it, please sweetheart; think on it.”

He was thumbing tears away now and his own cheeks seemed to glisten. “I can’t promise you anything.” she cried, “I don’t even know if I can sleep next to you.”

“Then we’ll buy matching sofas.” he argued, “Or the adjoining apartment.”

“That’s not a wife, that’s a roommate.”

“That’s a wife -a companion.”

“A companion? What are you, ninety five? Did you have mumps as a child, Robert? Is this where this is coming from?”

“Ida, I don’t expect a damn thing from you. You know it. I think you know it.”

“Yes, which is perturbing.” she hit back, “And if you think I will progress faster with someone breathing down my neck and tapping their foot in impatience -you’re more fool than I thought.”

“This, Ida.” he was implacable, “I want this. What we have right now.”

She pulled away from his embrace, realizing how long she had allowed his arms to cradle her after their dance had ended. How heatedly they had begun to discuss this, how close he was. How handsome he looked, how well he argued—“Arguments.” she scoffed, “You want arguments?”

“I wanna marry you.” he grinned back.

“Ah yes, no see,” Ida took to pacing, a habit picked up from him and there's the rub, “that’s where we differ. Marrying me would be quite the mistake and ruin -well I can’t take credit for your life, I don't think I’ve that much power, but I do think I could manage to ruin a decent portion of your late twenties and that would be most unfair for a man of your standing and…sweetness.”

“S’long as it’s you doin’ the ruining.” Rosie rejoined lazily from his steadfast position atop Till Death Do Us Part Hill. “How ‘bout that coffee?”

“I didn’t agree to anything!” she chased after him as he ambled into the kitchen, his back looked so broad in this domestic scene.

“And I didn’t ask for an answer.”

“You’re infuriating sometimes, Robert.”

“You called me sweet five seconds ago.”

“Case in point.”

“You’re going to love law school, Ida. They train you to snap professionally, you’ll take to it like a fish to water.”

“Truly insufferable.”

“You’d like Germany in the fall.”

“Robert!”

“Here’s your coffee; black, one sugar.”

“You remembered.”

“Ida. Please.”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[bejeweledblondie]

Peggy, The Pin Up

-

A/N: I apologize for being MIA I’ve had a lot of very great but time consuming things take over my life! I’ve started a 1940s vintage clothing blog & I’m shocked at how successful it has become. On top of that I’ve got promotions at work & it’s opened so many doors for me. I’m hoping to write a bit more!

Warnings: classic 1940’s sexism, mentions of nudity, female pronouns

Summary: Y/N never expected for her pin up prints to be put out… it causes some disruption on Abbott-Thorpe & one dark curly haired aviator comes to her rescue

It all happened on a Thursday morning at breakfast. Y/N sat there in her crisp white uniform shoveling the chalky yellow substance the army called eggs in her mouth. A dark shadow appeared above her plate & a magazine was plopped down in front of her.

“Don’t even try to deny it, this is you isn’t it?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Speechless she looked away & noticed that the Army’s shipment of Esquire hit the shelves. “God who knew? We knew you were a tease, but this is just another level.” He started. “Do you know what everyone says about you?” She shook her head shamefully, lying to herself. She had heard rumblings in the sick bay from time to time. Sometimes while fixing a patients IV bag or a even helping move a patient a hemline might rise causing a stir.

Before the pilot could continue his chauvinistic teasing session she immediately grabbed her belongings & swiftly exited. Little did she know a dark curly haired pilot was watching the torment happen. Due to rank he couldn’t intervene but oh he so badly wanted to bury the man six feet under. He had grown fond of the nurse, she was always so kind with his men. Incredibly soft spoken & nurturing when it came to the care she provided. He had walked in on her reading a copy of John Steinbeck’s, “Of Mice & Men” to the wounded pilots one evening. She didn’t have to do that, she could’ve been out dancing at the Officer’s Club. But she voluntarily chose to stay after her shift to read to them. He could tell the men greatly appreciated it too, it gave them a small window of comfort during an incredibly traumatic moment in their lives.

Douglass, also watching the debacle rolled his eyes & sipped his coffee.

“These men act like they’ve never seen tits before it’s insane.” He scoffed. Rosie almost choked on the toast he was eating.

“I mean some are freshly turned eighteen.” Blakely reminded him.

“Still, this is going to cause a huge fucking problem.” He swore. “Rosenthal, you okay?” Rosie had been staring off into the space during the duration of the conversation.

“Go to her,” Douglass sighed. “She may be oblivious but I’m not. You’ll also want to scoop her before someone like Egan does.” With that Rosie excused himself & started to head towards the medical ward. The sterile white environment contrasted heavily from the drab olive green darkness of the mess hall. Injured pilots laid in beds reading the paper, being fed their morning breakfast, or having their vitals taken. Valerie, a nurse he knew was friendly with Y/N was checking the vitals on a young sergeant.

“Val!” He said getting her attention & started over to her. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, she seemed a bit off,” She started. “She begged Major to allow her to just work in supply today. You might wanna try there.”

“Thank you.” Rosie replied & made his way to the supply room. There she stood sniffling & rolling gauze. Her eyes were clouded with a melancholy look as she completed the mundane task. He knocked on the door frame causing her to look up slightly startled.

“Oh Major Rosenthal it’s you,” She said with a slight tremble in her voice. “What can I do for you?” He cringed at her using his rank, usually it would make his blood pressure rise & heart race. But this circumstance was entirely different.

“I saw what happened in the chow hall,” He started. She’s started to wipe away tears. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He said wringing anxiously. She sighed deeply & looked away.

“I’ll be alright,” She stated. “I’m just going to lay low for a few weeks.” It broke his heart to see her this way. She was always a little jumpy & anxious to begin with. This situation just poured gasoline on a oil fire.

“No,” Rosie stated. “You shouldn’t let some asshole make you feel uncomfortable.” She stared him with big wide eyes. “If it makes you feel any better I’ll escort you places.” Her eyes softened as she listened to him. A small crimson warmth crept onto her cheeks at the mere mention of him escorting her.

After a few weeks, the heat died out about the pin up nurse. Rosie & Y/N had become closer over the weeks. His protection meant no one would even try to touch a hair on her head. From lingering touches, longing gazes, & of course Rosie sitting on her nightly readings to the wounded pilots. He (like every man on post who took a liking to her) did keep a copy of the pin up photo.

On missions he’d keep the folded piece of paper tucked into the pocket of his sheepskin. A reminder of what he was protecting & fighting for. His calloused thumb would graze over her innocent smile as he admired the image. Even in his bunk, he’d spend some alone time with it after everyone had fallen asleep. During one night after the pin up photo was brought up by a rookie pilot, & in turn making Y/N uncomfortable. Rosie knew he had to make her see what he saw in the photo. After some discussions with Ken Lemmons, he decided to really make sure he was reminded everyday was he was fighting for.

With hands covering her eyes he directed her to the airstrip.

“Rosie I can’t see!” Y/N giggled, tripping over her own feet. He chuckled at her natural clumsiness. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, you’re so impatient.” He said. He lead her right up the nose to his beloved bomber. “Okay now you can see.” With the removal of his hands & a adjustment to the sunlight she was staring at herself painted on the side of his bomber. The same pin up that graced Esquire months ago that brought them together. She gasped in pure shock at the artwork.

“Oh, Rosie.” She gasped unable to speak. “Did you paint this?”

“With a little help from Lemmons.” He replied. “I want you to see what I see. A beautiful woman. Do you like it?”

“I-wow,” She smiled. “I love it.” She turned around to face him. He was staring down her, admiring the way the sun light reflected off her hair. He brushed stray strands of hair behind her ear. His hand lightly danced across her cheek bone as he stared adoringly into her eyes. He leaned down & placed a tender kiss onto her lips. She reciprocated & kissed back. Her arms wrapped around his neck & his slowly gravitated to her waist pulling her in closer. After pulling a part they rested foreheads against one another.

“God you have no idea how long I’ve always wanted to do that,” He admitted.

[rosienthal]

looks like daddy loves the story so much he decided to read the rest of it after the kid's asleep.

[speirslore]

domestic headcanons- rosie rosenthal

(a/n: requested! hope you enjoy <3 requests are open for bob, mota, and tp, as always)

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist: @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck @beautifulbluejay

rosie is naturally nurturing so he's very openly and unabashedly the biggest romantic

is very excited to get married and to have some stability after the war and trials in germany

but your wedding is small, only with your close family and friends

lovesss house hunting with you when you're still in an apartment in the city

he's a great partner, very responsible and reassuring, his presence is naturally calming for you

problem-solver, if something's bothering you he wants to fix it immediately. it doesn't matter how big or small, if it's upsetting you, he wants to make it better

you trust him and his decision making 100%

have a great foundation to have a life together, you got through a literal war together and that definitely strengthens a relationship

rosie prides himself on how well he knows you

to be loved is to be known and that is very relevant here

he also feels so loved and special when you remember little details about him

loves being spontaneous

he's so dependable

a great gift giver, will retain you offhandedly mentioning you like this certain purse or lipstick and boom six months later it's wrapped up for your birthday

he loves cooking and is ridiculously good at it

you learn that rosie can really do anything he sets his mind to including cooking stupidly complicated recipes

anniversaries? forget about it, he out does himself every single year

rosie remembers every single one, not just when you first started dating or eventually your marriage anniversary. first kiss, first everything

rosie loves a romantic gesture, does not care about public embarrassment or judgement at all

twirling you and dipping you around the dance floor

would loveee to do a big public proposal

but that being said isn't huge into pda like making out in public is not his style

but holding hands, hand on the small of your back, or just physical proximity?

oh absolutely loves pet names, especially honey and darling

but totally melts when you call him robert! he doesn't know why it just gets him...

loves it when you read to him, will very timidly request it

some nights will read to you as well, you guys take turns picking out books

one of those couples that lowkey does everything together but not co-dependent or in a bad way?

he just genuinely enjoys spending time with you. you never run out of things to talk or laugh about

rosie is great at having a routine down, he's so busy but gets everything done

so supportive of you and your career, whatever you want that to be

he loves hosting a neighbor or block party at your house, again with never being embarrassed: will get on the grill and wear your floral apron with no shame

he lovesss writing letters, it's so romantic to him

you save all of your letters written back and forth to each other in a (now very big) box under your bed

will leave little notes around the house too like if he leaves in the morning before you wake up or if he's gone for the weekend on a business trip- he'll leave a bunch of notes around the house for you to find

the most attentive dad

has art work from your kids on the fridge and all over his office

music!!!!

music is a huge deal in the rosenthal household. a record is always playing. you have a piano in the living room and your children are all in music lessons, start learning an instrument from a young age

your son loves the piano and your daughter absolutely is amazing at the violin

speaking of concerts, rosie is present at every single one and is sooo proud

the one thing he hates about his job is it can be long hours as an attorney... he hates being away from his family

documents everything about your children, like buys the baby books and takes so many pictures it's so endearing

in awe of your baby like she's so precious and rosie can't get over her chubby cheeks or squealing laughter... she's his weakness

of course he reads to the kids too and tucks them in at night

you do have to force him to relax sometimes and take a breather, it can be very hard for him to let himself relax and chill

he's gotten better since the war but still... he can very easily throw himself into his work and overwork himself

so busy taking care of everyone else that he's not taking care of himself

you can always get him to take a break when you suggest a bath together

his kryptonite...

you love taking a bath with him, a bunch of bubbles, and laying against his chest... perfection

loves being hands on with the kids

will somehow teach himself how to build things like your daughter wants a dollhouse? of course rosie can do it... why couldn't he

loves cuddling and spooning

like laying on the couch together, legs entangled, his hand on your waist, just reading or working on different things in silence, just the physical touch and intimacy is so nice for him

loves watching the kids play outside, reading the newspaper or a book he's been meaning to read, your hands loosely interlocked, sitting on the chair next to him, yeah this is paradise!

always has his robe on in the morning like a cup of coffee, a newspaper, the robe, and slippers... he's a vision

always wants you to sit in his lap or the arm of the chair

will beg you to indulge in slow dancing in the kitchen in said robe to artie shaw

will stop by the market on the way home from work to buy a fresh bouqet of flowers routinely

your kids are in awe of your love for each other and his love for you!

[darkimpala1897]

Buck and Bucky wedding would be pure chaos I'm just saying.

Bucky would walk down the aisle to 20th Century Fox Fanfare, because he's Bucky.

Hambone, and Douglass would do drunk karaoke.

Brady would be the one crying the entire time and I mean the entire time.

Blakely would be trying to sleep with the groomsmen.

DeMarco snuck Meatball in, who ate everything.

Rosie would have the best speech ever.

Crosby would have a drunk speech.

Bubbles would embarrassingly dance around, making everyone question who invited him.

Curt would be spilling all the embarrassing stories, he definitely knocked down either the wedding cake or ice sculpture or both well screaming "I'm Irish" at the top of his lungs.

Dickie is trying to clean up Curts mess.

Quinn lost BabyFace, and Bailey within five seconds somehow.

Winks and Ken are just filming the entire thing.

Kidd and Harding are just old man dancing together.

Helen is wondering why she came.

Sandra and Marge are also questioning why the fuck they came.

Murphy and Fredkin are literally the most chill ones, but Murphy eventually gets so drunk that he starts taking off his clothes.

Smokey is making sure nobody gives themselves alcohol poisoning, he ends up herding everyone home like drunk cattle.

Stormy is just embarrassed to know these people.

Daniels, Jefferson, and Macon were dragged to this shingdig by DeMarco who said "It'd be fun." And fun was one way to describe it.

[curtsbigspoon]

So I already sent one in- But I had to delete my account because something went absolutely hay-wire with it, It's under the same name- But I'm not sure if it'll translate back- But I asked about Crosby anything. I'd bite at the bar of my fucking cage for it. I'm obsessed with Crosby, I'm not sure if you do write anything about him. If you don't, that's completely fine. Just ignore this if that's the case. I've just been dying for any crumbs of Crosby content-

My ask box is otherwise empty so I'm assuming it got deleted with your account. But fear not sweet creature, ask and ye shall recieve!

I did ask my pookie @johnslittlespoon a little about this one, just because as much as I do love cros and do intend on writing him and stuff, I haven't had a lot of chances yet, other than my most recent post where I spoke about him x bubbles as well as him x rosie. But i wanted to deliver still, so I can give you some more headcanons.

Feel free to ask for like more thought out stuff, or snippet things because I will attempt, I just never know what to provide unless someone is specific so forgive me 😭SPOILERS AHEAD BOYS!!!

crosby has always drank black coffee, ever since he got the taste of it, can't stick anything else. the first time bubbles offers to make him a cup he doesn't think to specify, is just grateful enough that they offered. it takes a lot for him to swallow his first sip, tries not to make it obvious, offering a smile and a nod. he's so used to taking sips whilst he's deep in his work that he inevitably winds up finishing the cup. gets up to go and make himself another, desperate for his preferred taste, only for bubbles to spawn out of nowhere offering to get him another one. he tries to politely decline but "i was gonna make myself one anyhow" and now he can't refuse or he'll look rude.

this bit's a tiny bit angsty but after bubbles dies, crosby can't drink the sweet stuff again. he tries to for the very first time after hearing, thinks it'll be something to to keep the memory. but it gets too hard, he winds up being sick, goes back to drinking black coffee because he can't stand the reminder of losing his best friend. well, up until he's deep in work and rosie comes along to see how he's doing, brings him a cup, and it's sweet and he probably drops his face into his hands and gets worked up but- (GUNSHOTS)

this one's especially based on the newest episode but, crosby's used to being seen as more timid right? will immediately stand up to admit when he's done something wrong but before it even gets to that point you can see it eating away at him. he might be able to handle a few comments here and there about himself, never quite willing to turn hostile because it's war, there's worse things happening and it's not worth getting worked up over. but the minute you say a single bad thing about his friends? oh it's over. he'll use his authority, put the fear of god into you, suddenly snap out of nowhere, no a soul can sense it's coming. he means business.

once again talked about in my last post but this man does not sleep, whether it's because of work or anxiety. he probably gets up and paces about, maybe goes to sit outside, goes somewhere, anywhere to clear his head. (angst) but he probably goes somewhere he knows he'll be alone, will talk to bubbles as if he's sitting beside him, laugh about good stuff that's happened, spill his guts about the things eating away at him, referring to fond memories they used to share.

[ithinkabouttzu]

MASTERS OF THE AIR MASTERLIST

*DISCLAIMER* (before you read, welcome to my masterlist, I hope you enjoy my works! I also need to preface this, these works are in no way, shape, or form disrespect or hate to any real veterans. These works are solely based on the characters of the show. I also need to make known that there are probably historical inaccuracies so please do not take my words or work into historical context :) - Mac

Reactions/headcanons

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[sagesolsticewrites]

Kiss Me Once

The moment you’ve been anxiously awaiting is finally here— your boyfriend Rosie Rosenthal finally arrives home.

(hi @hellfirequinnie @justheretoreadthxxs @ronsenthal @storysimp)

a/n: hugest of huge shoutouts to Winnie (@winniemaywebber) and Gina (@ginabaker1666) for letting me yell about this fic 24/7, not to mention darling Marina’s (@precious-little-scoundrel) spicy Rosie headcanons which played a huge part in the inspiration for this fic (as well as the future parts I have planned 👀) 💕

Warnings: mentions of death (brief mention of death of a parent, war deaths), mentions of sex, Rosie being a tease 👀, definite historical inaccuracies, if there’s anything else y’all would like me to tag, please let me know!

Word count: 3k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Masterlist

You pace around the foyer of the Rosenthal apartment impatiently.

Your boyfriend, Robert, was coming home after several long years of war, and he was already ten minutes late.

He had insisted on meeting you all at the apartment instead of greeting him as he got off the train— something sweet about wanting to walk into his home and see you all there— but his train had gotten in on time, so where—

“Y/N, he’ll be here honey,” his mother says gently, exchanging a look with his sister from her place in the kitchen where she’s preparing a spread of Rosie’s favorite foods, “You know how the traffic is, especially today.”

“I know, I know,” you nod, your nervous pacing slowing the tiniest bit, “But he said—”

Your worries are interrupted by a knock on the door, and suddenly you’re frozen in place.

“Well? You gonna answer it?” his sister teases, gesturing at the door.

“But—” You glance between his family and the door, conflicted.

“He’s had enough of us fussing over him,” his mother pipes up, moving to stand next to her daughter, “We all know who he’s really here to see,” she adds with a teasing smile.

You glance down with a smile, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away before you move to finally fling the door open.

It truly doesn’t seem real, the sight that greets you as the door opens.

Robert stands there, dapper in his dress uniform, curls neat, hat tucked neatly under his arm.

He blinks in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be the one who opened the door, but the shock on his face is quickly replaced with a wide grin.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you gasp as you’re pulled into his arms for a tight hug, burying your face in his neck as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Missed you so much,” he murmurs softly in your ear before pulling away to take in your face, eyes scanning over your features as if to make sure everything was the same as he remembered.

You do the same, clocking one very noticeable change.

“What’s this?” You laugh, gesturing to your own top lip.

His fingers move self-consciously to the mustache that definitely wasn’t there when he left for flight school.

“Oh yeah, uh… remember I told you I started tryin’ to grow one back in training? Well… it turned into this,” He laughs, meeting your eyes anxiously, “What do you think?”

You rise up into your tiptoes to peck his lips, “I think you look very handsome, my love.”

His hand cups your cheek as you pull away, bringing you back in for a long, tender kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours after so long, but the rosy spell the two of you are under is quickly broken by his sister pointedly clearing her throat, ignoring her mother’s scolding look at her interruption.

“Wow, Rosie,” she teases as the two of you break apart, “it’s nice to see that you remembered we’re here too.”

“That’s the best welcome you’ve got for your big brother, Jeanie?” He rolls his eyes playfully, unable to hide his smile as he gives you one last squeeze and goes to greet his family.

“Hi, Ma,” he says, voice thick as he embraces his mother for the first time in far too long.

She clings to him in a long, fierce hug, and he returns it just as fiercely until his sister tackles him from the side.

Rosie lets out an oof, quickly adjusting so he has both of them in an embrace.

The four of you sit down for dinner, conversation flowing nonstop. Even with the frequent letters back and forth, Rosie still had plenty to tell you about his life in England, and his family still had plenty to catch him up on.

As his sister is rambling about work, his hand comes to rest on your knee. Still respectable, of course, but the warmth emanating from him makes it difficult to focus on anything else.

As the night continues, you nearly drop your fork into your mashed potatoes when his hand glides ever so slightly up your leg, slipping just underneath the hem of your skirt. He maintains a straight face, wide grin barely flickering as he teases his sister about the crush she inadvertently mentioned, all while his fingers remain indecently close to your core.

His mother is in the middle of filling him in on all the neighborhood gossip when your glass of water comes very close to slipping out of your hand. You catch it in time, mumbling an excuse about being oddly clumsy tonight, when all you can think about are the featherlight patterns Rosie is tracing on the inside of your thigh.

You shoot a glare at him when his mother and sister are distracted, which he meets with a smile, eyes sparkling with mirth, heat simmering just underneath.

Somehow you manage to fumble through the rest of dinner, contributing with simple nods or “mm hm”s as Rosie’s presence next to you overwhelms your mind. As the meal finishes— complete with a mouthwatering cherry pie— Rosie stands and begins gathering plates. You and his mother stand simultaneously to do the same.

“Ma, please sit down,” Rosie insists gently, “I got it.”

As she opens her mouth to protest, he simply shakes his head.

“It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to do this, yeah? Let me help out. Please.”

Eyes softening at the mention of his being away for so long, she relents, and the two of you gather the remaining dishes.

Mrs. Rosenthal and her daughter move to the living room, soft jazz drifting through the apartment as they turn on the radio while you and Rosie work like a well-oiled machine washing and drying dishes. Er… mostly.

“Robbie!” You yelp as he splashes water up towards you, holding your rag up as a shield. You laugh, retaliating with a reckless swing of the still-damp dishrag.

What follows is a playful water fight where miraculously neither of you get too wet, but does end with you pinned between Rosie and the kitchen counter, his lips moving greedily against yours.

You let out a soft squeal as he pulls away briefly to scatter kisses all over your face and neck, mustache brushing against your skin.

“Robbie, that tickles!”

You can feel him grinning as his lips land on yours once more.

“I missed hearing you laugh.” he murmurs between kisses as his hands wander freely over your dress, “Missed you so, so much, honey.”

“I missed you, too,” you sigh as you reluctantly pull away for air, thumb stroking along his cheekbone as you take him in: mustache and all.

“When you re-enlisted, I—”

You take a breath, forcing back the sudden tears that threaten to spill over.

“I was so scared,” you admit softly, “So incredibly proud of you, of course, because I know that’s who you are: you don’t come home until the fight’s over. But so many people were getting those damn Western Union telegrams telling them that their sons or brothers or friends wouldn’t be coming home, and I couldn’t stand the thought of being one of them.” Your voice trembles, and you take a shaky breath in, pressing your forehead to his, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being without you.”

“Honey,” he says softly, nudging your noses together ever so gently so you meet his eyes, “I love you.”

Those words hang in the air for a heartbeat, words that you had only been able to read in his letters for the past two years, words that you hadn’t heard aloud in far, far too long.

“I love you,” he repeats softly, firmly, the words like an oath on his lips, “and I hated the thought of making you and Ma and Jeanie worry, but… but what I hated more was the thought of going back home when there was still so much evil out there. And the kids who were coming in to replace us… that’s it, they were just kids. I couldn’t leave in good conscience knowing that some teenager was gonna be taking my place in the sky and wasn’t gonna make it home because of me. I saw it happen too many times, and I couldn’t—”

He shakes his head, swallows, and meets your eyes again with a soft smile.

“But I’m home now. And I’m not leaving you anytime soon, yeah?”

He leans in for a tender kiss, one that has you melting down to your toes as he pulls you into his arms, swaying ever so slightly.

“Dance with me, honey? I know it’s no Minton’s,” he chuckles, “But it’ll do.”

He holds you close, twirling you around the kitchen with your head resting on his shoulder as Kitty Kallen’s voice drifts in from the living room, Rosie singing along softly in your ear.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time

He always claimed that his ma and Jeanie got all the musical talent, but you loved to hear him sing in the rare moments you got to. You loved it even more in this moment because it meant that he was here. He was home. He was safe. And he was with you.

You stay wrapped in his arms for the duration of the song, and as it fades into the next one— Glen Miller’s crooning “At Last”— he whispers into your ear once more.

“What would you say,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning over your neck, “if I asked you to meet me in my room tonight?”

You pull back to meet his eyes, to make sure you understand his meaning. You see a slight nervousness there, tinged with longing, and just below that, a simmering heat that sparks an ember deep in your core.

The two of you had been, er… intimate before. Several times, actually (the fire escape outside his window that happened to also lead to your room in the apartment upstairs made for an excellent escape from both fires and nosy parents wondering what those noises were in the middle of the night), and each time had you seeing stars— sometimes literally if he felt like sneaking you up onto the roof with a blanket on one of the rare clear nights in New York— and longing for the next one. The letters you wrote alternated between sweet and rather scorching when you happened to be in a mood, each of you divulging your fantasies over the years you were apart, hoping to fulfill them when he came home in one piece.

“I’d say,” you murmur, “that I’d love to.”

That bright grin spreads across his face again, lighting him up from the inside out.

“Good,” he says softly, “because I wanna have a proper reunion with my girl.”

His hands slide down to rest low on your hips, pulling you that much closer as his lips seal over yours for a kiss that has butterflies swarming in your belly.

You lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on you, of his lips on yours, in the taste of him— even the utterly foreign (though not unpleasant) feeling of his mustache grazing against your skin has you wanting more, wanting to make up for the time you lost when he was an ocean away.

Something— maybe the crackle of the radio switching stations, maybe some small noise outside, maybe the remnants of the proper girl you should be— brings you back to reality all too soon, and suddenly you’re pulling away and looking up at him regretfully as you remind him:

“Your mother’s probably wondering what’s taking so long.”

He lets out a playful groan, barely heard over the radio as his head slumps onto your shoulder.

“You’re probably right,” he sighs, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he begins fixing up his appearance; attempting to get his hair to lay flat from where your fingers had raked through it, wiping away your bright red lipstick smeared around his mouth, “Let’s go.”

Once you’ve reapplied your lipstick and made an attempt to fix your rumpled clothes and hair, he leads you back into the living room where his mother and sister are lounging in the armchairs next to the radio.

“Sorry, Ma,” he says, cheeky grin firmly back in place as the two of you settle on the loveseat nearby, “Had to squeeze in a dance with my girl.”

You bite back a squeak of surprise as his hand— out of sight of his mother and sister— drifts dangerously low on your hip to give you a playful squeeze, all while maintaining that trademark sparkling Rosenthal grin.

“You two are so sweet,” his mother coos, and you can’t help the shy smile creeping onto your face as you lean into Rosie.

Nor can you help the laugh you let out when you see Rosie sticking his tongue out at Jeanie, presumably in retaliation for the disgusted look on her face.

“Robert,” she scolds, “Be nice to your sister.”

“But Ma—”

“And Jeanette,” she turns to his sister with a rare use of her full name, “Your brother just came home, I won’t have you teasing him for wanting to spend time with Y/N.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but shuts it at her mother’s raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, Robert,” she grumbles stiltedly.

When his mother’s eyes flick to him, Rosie mumbles in the same stilted way.

“Sorry, Jeanie.”

“Thank you,” his mother says crisply, “Now— oh, honey, did I tell you…”

Mrs. Rosenthal somehow has even more neighborhood gossip to tell Rosie, and Jeanie has plenty of questions for her brother about life in England. He happily listens and regales them with stories, his animated way of speaking distracting his family from the way his hand rests on your thigh in plain sight. You should nudge him away, slip your hand into his, do something to make it look more innocent… but you don’t want him to stop tracing patterns onto your thigh over your dress, working his way up and down and back again in a way that makes it very difficult to focus on anything else.

He slips his hand away, a jolt of disappointment running through you at the lack of warmth, just in time for his mother to turn her attention to you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m going to make some tea before we all head to bed, would you like some?”

You politely decline, as you have for the past nearly two years.

It was just you, your father, and your brother after your mother passed when you were four, and when they both enlisted after the Pearl Harbor attack, Mrs. Rosenthal was kind enough to let you, as her daughter's close friend and her son’s girlfriend, temporarily move into her guest room. They were currently somewhere on a boat in the Pacific, and though you were able to send letters back and forth, it was a sporadic way of communicating, and each day you prayed that they would come home safe like your Robbie had.

Jeanette busies herself with the book she had been reading, and Robbie takes the small moment you have for yourselves to pull you close and press a sweet kiss to your cheek, mindful of his sister in the room.

“What was that for?” You ask, grinning. It seems you haven’t stopped smiling since he walked in the door a few hours ago. 

“Just because,” he shrugs, a returning grin brightening his face, “I’m home, and I’m with my girl, and I can give her kisses anytime I want to.”

You don’t think it’s possible for your smile to grow any wider, but it does.

After pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, Rosie turns to his sister.

“Oh, Jeanie, I got you somethin’ while I was over there. Wanted to send it over, but I figured it’d be better if I gave it to you in person.”

He goes over to his pack and rummages around until he produces a small paperback.

“I found this in a bookshop when I was on one of my weekend passes, thought it seemed like something you’d like. Written by a woman, too, isn’t that something,” he says, handing her the copy of Green Dolphin Country, “Happy belated birthday, little sis. Hopefully this makes up a little for the ones I wasn’t here for.”

Oh goodness, your cheeks are starting to hurt, but you can’t stop smiling seeing Jeanie light up at the book. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Jeanie squeals, jumping up to squeeze her brother tight. He returns the hug fiercely, and your heart melts when you see him blinking back tears.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, bright grin back in place as she pulls away to devour his gift, adding teasingly, “Y’know, I heard it ends with—”

“No spoilers!” Jeanie whines.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Rosie holds his hands up in surrender, “Just tell me how it ends, promise?”

His little sister beams up at him, looking much younger than her actual age of 22.

“Promise.”

Mrs. Rosenthal returns with a tray bearing three mugs of tea, and night winds down with tea and books and soft chatter as one by one you all retire to your separate rooms.

Rosie shoots you a wink, hand drifting dangerously low on your back as he escorts you to your room before heading for his own just across the hall, leaving a lingering kiss on your lips that has you pleading for time to move faster, for his mother and Jeanie to fall asleep quickly so you can meet him without fear of waking them.

You slip into your favorite nightgown— a thin, filmy thing, one Rosie hasn’t seen before— and begin watching the clock as the wait for your agreed meeting time of 12:30 begins.

[luminouslywriting]

Hiya,

I hope you are doing OK and recuperating after your surgery. Absolutely love our writing! Please could you do headcanons or a one shot for one of the Masters of the Air men and a crippling shy oc. I'm so shy, especially in social situations and this is very self-indulgent. No worries if not :)

Hi sweet Nonny! I appreciate your kindness! My surgery is next week (on the 21st) and I am so grateful for you checking in on me! My requests are open and I seriously love this one 🥰

Cut for length, more under the cut:

Bucky Egan:

-This man can be a lot for people at times, but he also cares more deeply than anyone else

-He’s attentive to social and physical cues for anxiety

-Is a cuddle bug when it comes to you being anxious

-Loves being able to just hold you on his lap or sit with his arm around you in social interactions and is very happy to take over and be the social one

-He loves feeling like he’s taking care of you and loves getting to be gentle and calm with you….it also helps him clear his head

-Definitely knows all the words to your favorite songs and sings them to you when you’re upset

-And he loves bringing you flowers to cheer you up

Gale Cleven:

-Soft energy KING!! This man right here is so understanding and sweet about your shyness and is absolutely your rock

-Is really attentive in public and encourages you to drink water or to take things at your own pace

-Is very physically there for you and a grounding presence in times of anxiousness

-Since Gale doesn’t like being out a lot anyway, he’s more than happy to have a night in with you

-Whispers sweet assurances to you in your ear

-Also very good at talking through how you’re feeling and prefers to be communicative

-Gives the best hugs when you’re anxious

Rosie Rosenthal:

-Literally a hype king and always down for whatever you’re feeling. Whether you’re anxious or want to try something out, he’ll be right by your side. -Is super tender and patient with you, especially when you’re taking the time to try and express yourself

-Does his own research about anxiety and might propose helpful ideas for how to make life easier for you

-Loves the quiet moments when it’s just the two of you and you’re able to be open

-Forehead kisses when you’re anxious

-Literally just wants to hug you and make sure you never cry ever

John Brady:

-A patient listener who quietly reassures you that he’s always going to be there for you

-He’s fairly quiet and chill himself, AND he’s very attentive. Because he’s a giver, he’s going to constantly be looking for things to brighten you up or help ease your anxiety. -Probably the type to get into meditations for anxiety to help you with positive affirmations

-He likes going out just fine but if he knows that you’re not, this man is PREPARED to hunker down and just give you some loving. -Discovers that music and rhythm really help when you’re anxious and he’s always prepared to step in with his instruments or with a steady beat that you can count. -Also a massive cuddles and loves being able to hold you….he treasures this time

-Always takes the time to tell you how brave you are and how proud he is of you and how much he loves you

[suraemoon]

MOTA: Post-war

~ Easter Sunday Headcanons ~

🐣: Easter Sunday lends itself so easily to daydreaming about post-war suburban life. Here are some ideas I thought up yesterday of how some of the boys and their families celebrate Easter. I hope you like some fluff. (Bunnies, eggs, and happiness galore)

💛: @precious-little-scoundrel gave me the idea to post these after I was yelling them to her yesterday. I hope you all aren’t Eastered out just yet.

Being some of the earliest birds to the nationwide baby boom due to a four-week New York getaway, the Crosby’s quickly become professionals at the Easter Sunday routine

After an hour of hiding yawns and dozing off while standing in their pews at Easter Sunday Service, all the neighborhood kids show up at the Crosby house for their famous annual Easter Egg Hunt.

As soon as their car rolls into the driveway, Jean and Harry watch in wonder as their crew of excited kiddos doubles, triples, and soon quadruples in a matter of minutes

Hiding spots are determined days in advance and as the years go on, the amount of eggs that Jean has to buy grows exponentially to account for the adopted little bunnies that come strolling by with baskets the size of their whole torsos

Mrs. Jean Crosby puts out chairs and a group of adoring parents get to gradually watch their children grow up before their loving eyes every April

The same toddlers who first waddled around on the newly mowed grass trying to find their footing all those years ago soon become elementary school kids with minds enthralled by the competition

Soon these toothy grinned kids become teenagers who keep the magic alive for the newest toddlers while also taking the time to show the next-gen elementary kids who are the professional easter egg hunters

The Crosby’s haven’t always had the holiday nailed though

One year after much convincing from his wife throughout the whole month of March, Harry agreed to dress up as the easter bunny

When he suddenly stuck his costumed head out from the top of their white picket fence, a church choir of crying and screaming ensued

Instead of being faced with the excited wonder-filled faces that he expected, Harry was met with wide eyes full of terror and dropped jaws full of shock

Children flailed to the protection of their mamas instead of going to hug the famous mascot of the season

He spent an hour going around to every child with his furry head off and shamefully cradled in his hands

apologizing and ensuring that yes, it was just Mr. Crosby, not a giant rabbit who hopped out of nowhere and scared the communion wafers out of them

In his adult life, John Bucky Egan never really cared for Easter festivities up until his eldest daughter was born

When sunny April came around the year that Little Miss Egan turned two, Bucky was excited to take her to the Easter egg hunt ran by the local Church

While the older kids go haywire in their now dirtied church suits and fancy dresses trying to pick up as many eggs as people they counted in church pews just a half hour before, Baby Egan waddles around gently.

Every egg she picks up is taken slowly and carefully from the soft grass beneath her Mary Jane’s, looked at with soft eyes as if being examined and if found fit, is put into her pink basket

Bucky, being impatient and full of excitement for this newly unlocked family activity, sneaks a few extra eggs into her basket to make it look like she has more

His little princess shouldn’t have to hunt for all her own eggs and risk getting her white lace dress dirty anyways

Egan is the only adult collecting eggs with a bunch of random kids. His excuse is that he and his little one share a basket of course. She needs her daddy to teach her how egg hunts are done in order to be better prepped for next year.

The Egan’s aren’t the only ones with a knack for egg hunts.

The Rosenthal children do not celebrate Easter but it does not stop them from showing up to the park’s “Eggstravaganza Hunt” every year

Being the determined little Rosies that they are, they dominate the competition. These kids will have their baskets full to the brim with eggs in a matter of minutes.

You notice a child with a head full of bouncy brown curls, pink cheeks, and grass stained knees run by you? You better hope that your little Bobby can keep up.

Rosie watches on like a focused parent at their child’s soccer game

His children with their chocolate and sugar covered faces furrow their eyebrows and tilt their heads when a random woman with a crying child tells them “Do y’all really need all that candy? Jesus would want you to share, don’t you think?”

The Mini Rosenthals come back home with sugar rushes that can power the whole neighborhood for a week straight

An upside for Rosie and his wife who have to deal with these energized little roadrunners is that the kids crash an hour earlier than usual

leaving room for extra alone time on a cool Sunday night

One easter, Benny Demarco randomly walks through the foyer of his home with a white floppy eared bunny wearing a perfect little bow tie

Is that the one you wore to our date last weekend? His wife can’t help but shake her head at her husband’s audacity as the children gather around their newest sibling with eyes full of happiness

The kids are excited but Mrs. Demarco has to try to put on a smile because “Who the hell is going to take care of that thing?”

Soon enough, a hutch is built in the backyard and more bunnies are added to the family

Mrs. Demarco falls in love and calls them her “bunny babes”

She’s met with a “I knew it was a good idea” from her husband every time she is seen cradling and baby-talking to one of their beloved pets

I mean…they are both major pet lovers. It’s one of the reasons they work so well together. But is one more responsible of the two? Definitely.

The excited squeals of children and adorable nose twitches of cute little bunnies makes it all worth it

The Demarcos aren’t the only 100th household with their own personal Easter Bunny

When John Egan jokingly told his four year old that leaving a baby carrot under her pillow would lead to a special gift from Mr. Easter Bunny himself, he did not expect her to take it seriously.

At midnight, Bucky wakes up with eyes hardly open and gets out of bed with a mission

This annual mission is to tiptoe into his daughter’s bedroom and carefully exchange the aluminum foil wrapped baby carrot tucked carefully under her soft pillow for a few cents from his wallet

As more children are born, the tradition continues

Even future generations of Egans continue to buy bags of baby carrots as Easter Sunday approaches

Not only to snack on them all of Spring Break but also to place one in a sandwich bag or wrap one in saran wrap to hide underneath each child’s pillow

Not necessarily knowing why they’re the only house that participates in this unusual tradition

Not knowing that it started from the unbreaking belief of a wide-eyed four year old and her father who stopped laughing when he realized that he was stuck playing off-brand Tooth Fairy for the rest of his life

Gale Cleven’s household has a more relaxed Easter Sunday compared to the rest

After Church, some Easter themed activities, and a well-needed nap upon arriving home, the Cleven’s go to their garden to plant new flowers

Fresh tulips, chrysanthemums, and pansies are all beautiful, refreshing signs that spring is here

Why do the Cleven’s have such green thumbs you ask? Maybe their blonde hair resembles the comforting sun, the plants can’t help but feel warmth. Maybe their caring blue eyes are as nurturing as water, the plants can’t help but thrive.

They started growing flowers and vegetables in their garden when the first after they bought their house

It was the Clevens’ first step towards making it a home

The flowers represented new beginnings, fresh starts, and growth. Essentials after everything they have been through.

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed! Wishing everyone a happy, happy Spring🌸 My first time writing something and posting it in 4 months…ahhhh. There’s more where this came from, my mind just does not stop.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

do have any rosie headcanons? especially erm, ahem, *spicy* ones? (asking for a friend, plz/thanks)

Oh Nonnie, don’t I just! come on into the pillow fort, (don’t forget to bring your friend) and be careful not to crush Meatball’s paws.

Massive amounts of gratitude to my darling friends who contributed so very much found herein, some aspects word for word, and who are always there in my hour of need: @suraemoon @faegoddessog

Well hello hello. Is this a requested description or a love letter? Legit don’t know but here goes…

Cock-versations || Major Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal edition 🥇

nsfw (AF!!) below the cut

General Remarks: let’s just start this off with some entirely accurate blanket statement like- “this is the prettiest cock in the 100th.” Yeah we could get in the weeds and start measuring everyone up to see if The Nazi Prosecutor and Legendary Pilot of 52 missions and the 100th’s beloved Step Dad(dy) Who Stepped tf Up is indeed the biggest, but like, why? Because what we know without that experiment (although Lordy, what an experiment that would be??) is that this man knows how to use what he’s got. And what he’s got is substantial. Must I go on to euphemize the whole “piloting a school bus like a fighter jet?”

Sordid Details: Rosie stands for something else besides shortening that name, ok? This color is like…like Monet specifically invented it for the perfect shade to paint his waterlily and for the gorgeous and graduated pink hues of Major Rosenthal’s cock leading to the impossibly wide mushroom head that’s situated on a very plush pink base that’s almost as wide as it is long and so is in danger of appearing mildly shorter at times? but that’s mostly an optical illusion due to the girth. Yes we said Gale is packing the perfect dildo cock but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and so at a certain point one must ask: for some of us, doesn’t a little individuality almost add to the beauty than subtract? Such is the case with the Rosie Cock, it’s just special enough you could pick it outta a lineup but it also doesn’t look so unforgettable as to be mistaken for an elephant trunk or a betting pencil.

For your endearing consideration: beyond being the prettiest color and the most deliciously sized appendage, this man also takes care in his appearance, those short and curlies are kept nice and trimmed for your ultimate sucking pleasure and the pubes are a little surprise in themselves as, rather like his mustache, they have dark roots but there’s a definite glint of ginger to them when you get them out into the bright sunlight or when the sun is really pouring into the window. So, your assignment is to 1. outdoor sex, romantic picnic or lounge chair by the pool it don’t matter just no fox hunting. 2. Let this man throw the covers off after a night of passion and then you yourself wake up early enough to survey the landscape of him, as it were, i swear the prettiness will take your breath away

A Note on the Wielder of the Weapon: back to the whole piloting a school bus like a fighter jet… He’s packing but he’s not a pummeling packing sorta guy like dear Egan who will bully his receivers into orgasms, or Cleven who will soberly and expertly dish them out like they are communion wafers to be reverently accepted. Rosie, no, see, he’s both generous and also -fun. He’s a dork, he laughs when he shouldn’t and trains in his underwear -but one of those times to laugh is sex!! a little levity never hurt sexy times and some of the most truly romantic sex is fond and giggly while also full of expertise, passion and hours and hours of this man wooing the fuck outta you like you’re not already signed sealed and delivered as his. This is the sorta man to be able to line up y’all’s eyes, noses and lips all while undulating like a damn dolphin at the hips.

Finesse, my friends, finesse.

Twinkle Toes aspect: such a fucking tease and a dork at times, as we’ve mentioned. Also between his crazy eyes and his lawyerly self assurance, this man has terrifying capabilities to turn his virtues into villainous weapons. See: gaslighting. He can make you feel nuts for thinking he’s teasing the fuck outta you when he’s just been sitting here with colleagues. (Honestly? This could get intense but that’s for a darker fic at another time.) But to keep it chill and more in character, let us just say you’ve gotta be ready to be wooed for hours on end, and that’s not for the faint of heart. Neither is being discreetly fingered in front of his prestigious associates at dinner or in the elevator. Because he does that, so subtle and yet so intense. He’s 100% a “feral for no panties under that skirt” kinda guy, all the house chores he so sexily helps out with also means he can hide your underwear like a pro just in time for an outing.

In short: he’s all about sex all the time, but not in the rabbit-like aspect of some of his fellows, doing dishes is a natural form of foreplay for this man, he understands the inner workings of arousal, it’s on his mind all the time but it doesn’t mean he’s doing it all the time, and in fact, this is one of the few men who could put it in you for a few strokes, bent over the hood of his Chrysler after dancing and drinks, only as a means to tease you and then put himself back in his trousers and drive home while you get so desperate you actually start calling him Daddy. -not in the modern weird way (no shade but it stands) but in that 40’s sorta way, (which has layers of its own).

If ya know, then ya know.

One more addendum: once he’s inside you, this man’s face displays every wondrous, anticipatory, contemplative and blissful emotion that is part of the orgasmic journey, he also cums an extraordinary amount, you’ll think he’s done at last and NOPE, here comes another rope of the thick stuff. Which means that after the frantic over-the-edge-first-wave-of-cumming bit, he’ll open his eyes again and smile down at you as he works the rest out in a more measured but very lethal way, if you’ve not cum yet or are about to again, this is when he gets you and it’s made so much worse/better because of all the hot and slick stuff he just deposited 🥰 also…humming

[bcolfanfic]

young vets au - robert no rizz rosie rosenthal headcanons (a collaboration with @swifty-fox)

stays active duty in the air force for a smidge longer than the other guys and almost goes down the JAG path but realizing he likes his law interest separate from the military is what kinda pushes him towards wanting to just go back to practicing law "normally".

moves to upstate new york, settles back in and makes a nice lil quiet life for himself. outside of work he likes watching birds and is a lil (a lot) nerdy- bless him. he's a good man savannah!!! a good man!!

the guys are always texting him pics of birds like hey. what is this.

adopts as a single dad which he will say over and over and over was the single best decision he ever made in his time on earth.

that little girl is his whole world plus some and he just adores her. since it's just the two of them they're super close. for not being his biologically, she's just about his clone.

his bird watching buddy, his best friend <3

but he does kinda wish it wasn't *just* the two of them sometimes. feels like he's gonna be the last one standing of the guys finding someone and settling down. (outside of demarco. he'll bring a new girl to every reunion until the end of time. it is what it is)

the guys try to set him up with women they know, friends, friends of friends, cousins etc

it doesn't go well, well.

he's attractive and a sweet man- it's just that he opens his mouth and...

"we should start telling these girls he's mute so he has a better shot at at least getting his dick wet" - demarco, to the "The Bachelor Rosenthal Edition" group chat one night

he's a good sport about things but it does get to him when he thinks about it for too long

is on the phone with curt one night and gets a little choked up talking about how he doesn't understand why he can't click with anyone like that, that he feels broken and like there's something wrong with him.

in his comforting him- curt's third eye flies open. takes him a hot minute to figure out how he's supposed to bring this up without freaking him out, but he gets there.

"'m gonna say something and you aren't gonna freak out on me, alright? have y'- have you considered that maybe it's not you, it's that they're y'know, women?"

no, rosie hadn't considered that.

after a longer come to jesus talk he agrees to let curt set him up with one of his buddies with the promise that curt will fill him in on everything first.

thinks curt is onto something with that earlier question, but he's a sweetheart and doesn't want to hurt this guy if they are wrong here.

and it ends up going, unlike every other date he's been on, good.

curt's friend, aiden, is a little nerdy too. thinks rosie is just darling and is happy to listen to him yap about his job, bird watching and the air force and his daughter.

the group chat is popping bottles when it hits 11pm and none of them have heard from him about how it went yet.

few things in curt's life have made him feel more like a mastermind than when rosie eventually does touch base with him the next day.

"so y' got laid??"

"well uh- no, i uh, y'know, shotoffalittleearly."

curt loves him and doesn't wanna laugh at him but can't help it bc he just finds this whole thing so endearing LOL. tells him he's glad he had fun, he has time to work on well-

rosie doesn't let him finish that sentence.

which is ironic when he does end up texting curt (and bucky) with some uh questions about things that he didn't really want to google.

things with curt's buddy work out long term. rosie loves him, the guy loves rosie and more importantly, he adores his daughter. funny how life works out.

***they work out but their first fight rosie thinks its the end of everything even though it was over something super menial. texts curt to be like thanks for the set up/sorry i ruined it and curt is like buddy. he's been texting me asking if i can get you to talk to him. take a deep breath please.

[folkloresthings]

✩⡱ who i write for!

formula one: carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, lando norris, max verstappen, fernando alonso, lance stroll, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, mick schumacher, sebastian vettel.

bridgerton: anthony bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, colin bridgerton, daphne bridgerton, francesca bridgerton.

masters of the air: robert rosenthal, john egan, gale cleven, harry crosby.

the last kingdom: uhtred ragnarson, sihtric kjartanson, osferth, finan.

the bear: carmen berzatto, richard jerimovich, michael berzatto, chef luca.

(italics indicate current favs. these will change over time.)

✩⡱ rules + guidelines.

i will write: fluff, angst, smut (18+!) and suggestive content, polyamorous relationships.

i will not write: severe gore or harm, non—canonical sexualities, incest, hard kinks, abuse or rape, gang or mafia au, any use of excessive alcohol or drugs, extreme mental health issues (eg. eating disorders, depression…)

p.s.

i write fics (any length), blurbs and drabbles, headcanons. in the future, i may start writing ships. i’ll do pretty much any form of writing if i’m feeling it.

i always try my best to make all of my readers gender neutral, however writing usually leans towards a female narrative. if you would like your request completely gender neutral, just let me know!

you can request these for any character from the list above! if a character you want is not listed, still ask! i’ll always try my best.

[proffesorboo]

Twisted Profile pictures

I made these so if you want you can request some and please reblog this is you used them x