𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 - 𝐁𝐚𝐫 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥...

With 66 combat aircrewmen already lost out of their starting strength of 350, they had no choice but to make do with what they had. This meant working extra hard for extra hours and abiding by additional mission orders during the nighttime. Tonight, it would have to be the 351st and the 350th if any missions were to arise. But until then, the night belonged to them. Despite the gravity of their situation, they were determined to seize the moment and party as if there were no tomorrow, so here they were, brawling over cards... 

"How could I have possibly cheated when my eyes were sealed by a blindfold the entire time?!" Buck laughed uproariously, clutching his sides as he effortlessly won his 9th game of the night, his victory adding to the jovial atmosphere despite the underlying tension of their circumstances. "You just did... Black magic- voodoo; YOU JUST DID!" Snapped the y/h/c, her frustration boiling over as she banged her fists against the table. The rest of the crew joined in, amiably slandering her, having no mercy whatsoever as they considered her to be one of their own amidst the camaraderie of the moment. 

"CROSBY, WHERE'S MY DRINK?!" She called out to the man on the other side of the bustling tavern, her question cutting through the conversation as she attempted to divert attention away from the topic at hand. "IN A MINUTE-" Replied the raven, his yell rising above the din of the pub as he waited patiently for the bartender to finish his present order before attending to their request. eliciting a smack on his shoulder from her in agitation, their banter adding to the lively atmosphere of the night. "You know... I rather admire you Americans." Bryan, a particularly snobbish British Officer butts in, appalled by their overall behavior.

"You're all up there in broad daylight with a female as a commander, seemingly oblivious to the downsides." He scoffed. "I don't understand what you're saying, Captain." Jack retorted defensively, his tone reflecting a hint of irritation at the implication. "Never mind, old boy; one for the higher-ups." Muttered the brunette, sipping on his brandy, seemingly content to disrupt the peace with his cryptic remark. "It's a question of philosophies — we bomb at night because it doesn't matter what we hit, as long as it's a German. But bombing during the day is suicide, let alone led by a female." Scorned another, his words dripping with disdain and prejudice.

"Threatened much?" Bucky raised his brow. Protective of his friend, his tone seemed challenging and militant as he confronted the man's discriminatory remark. "Oh, hardly... Major." Chuckled the brunette. "I could foresee in the future, American strategy adjusting due to the unfortunate losses you'll no doubt continue to suffer. Maths." He explained. "Maths?" Egan mimicked, mocking their accent. "I mean, maybe if you bombed during the day, you'd hit your targets." Curt shrugged, clearly unimpressed. "Also, having the female as our commander is what saved so many lives, so I'd think at least thrice before doubting her prowess if I were you." Major Cleven added pointedly, his voice dripping with a blend of defiance and confidence, sending a clear warning to anyone daring to question his lady's abilities.

"Why the hell do you Brits add an 's' on the end of math?" y/n questioned, her tone more bemused than anything else, clearly more intrigued by the quirks of British lingo than the actual matter at hand, unfazed by the stupid misogyny she had been facing pretty much all her life. "Because there's more than one of them, of course." Scoffed Bryan in a matter-of-fact tone, attempting to belittle her with his condescending remark. But the girl remained nonchalant, refusing to let his petty attempts at superiority get to her.

"Well, I can see more than one of you too. Pretty sure I could knock all of you out." She spoke in a daunting manner, her confidence radiating as she effortlessly flipped the situation on its head, daring anyone to challenge her. "Probably in one punch." The raven backed her up, his tone reflecting his absolute certainty in her abilities, having trained with her for so long. "Yeah, probably in one punch." The girl nodded in agreement, her credence unshaken despite the mocking from the Brits, who clearly felt threatened by her unwavering self-assurance.