softspeirs
softspeirs
blue skies from now on
2K posts
katie / 30s / main / masterlist
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softspeirs · 7 days ago
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writing? oh, i’m definitely writing. in my head. during the most inconvenient times. like in the shower or when i’m about to fall asleep. actual typing? no, no, we don’t do that here.
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softspeirs · 7 days ago
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softspeirs · 14 days ago
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Pros of re-reading your own fic
a good time;
Has exactly the tropes you like and the characterization you want to read;
Gratification: yes you did finish a thing and yes you did do good;
just a very fun time all around.
Cons of re-reading your own fic:
Is that another TYpO
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softspeirs · 16 days ago
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You look like a goddamn soldier.
MASTERS OF THE AIR ↳ motaversary week 7: Tuskegee Airmen
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softspeirs · 16 days ago
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softspeirs · 19 days ago
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Sorry I’ve been so absent lately- my mental health has been really terrible the last two weeks. I’m hopefully turning a corner but I’ve been so disinterested in things that used to make me happy and just feeling so awful in general. Not sleeping, no appetite, panic attacks, just the worst intrusive thoughts ever.
Trying to get through it and maybe I can lean on fandom a little bit to distract me. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway.
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softspeirs · 23 days ago
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Where do I start. The apartment fell through (lots of reasons, don’t want to get into it). I’m feeling… frustrated, disappointed, but also sort of relieved. Feels like I dodged a bullet with a potential landlord.
At the same time, I got the flu last weekend which turned into the worst anxiety spiral I’ve had in years. Had my first panic attack and have had one every day since last Sunday. Can’t sleep without nightmares.
My parents are miles and miles away and I have to just sit on the phone with my Mom for minimum 45 minutes for her to convince me they’re okay because my panic is making me believe the opposite.
Can’t get into my therapist until Thursday.
I am so tired.
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softspeirs · 1 month ago
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I remember one morning when we prepared our attack on Foy, I got up in the middle of the night to shave before getting something to eat. In the process, I cut myself up pretty badly. I must have looked like hell. When Colonel Sink arrived to check on us before the attack commenced, he took one look at me and had a huge smile on his face. I realized later that he was laughing at me for shaving on that bitterly cold morning. But that was one of the things I did to set an example for the men—shave in the morning and once in a while I would strip to the waist and give myself a “French wash”—a routine that also caught everyone’s attention. I did this for one reason and one reason only—to get the men’s attention and to let them know that I was going to be around for a while and that this wasn’t as bad as they thought it was going to be. Make the best of it. Beyond Band of Brothers: The War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters (emphasis mine)
DICK WINTERS Shaving in Bastogne | Band of Brothers
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softspeirs · 1 month ago
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He wouldn’t stop howling. That’s because he’s part wolf. That wolf’s part dog.
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softspeirs · 1 month ago
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softspeirs · 2 months ago
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First I hope you are feeling better and getting plenty of rest!
I just read all of your Rosie and Grace stories. I bloody love them. I would love to read them meeting for the first time and on Rosie’s return from his second return /end of war.
I just need more of them!! 🥰🥰
Hi, thank you so much! I miss writing for Rosie and Grace and need to do another piece soon - you reminded me I don't have anything about their first meeting written! That's such a good idea.
I'll put something together and see if I can get it done soon-ish.
(And I am feeling much better, thank you for asking <3)
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softspeirs · 2 months ago
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update: i am alive. i actually slept for a few hours last night but i was so dizzy (lack of food probably) it’s a miracle i didn’t get sick again. feeling….. mediocre this morning. hoping a hot shower is a cure.
i’ll spare everyone the details but i’ve had the stomach flu for 2 days and i am not being dramatic when i say i’ve never felt worse. send help. send pepto bismol
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softspeirs · 2 months ago
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i’ll spare everyone the details but i’ve had the stomach flu for 2 days and i am not being dramatic when i say i’ve never felt worse. send help. send pepto bismol
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softspeirs · 2 months ago
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softspeirs · 2 months ago
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Motaversary Week 8: Free choice ↳ The character who stole my heart during the rewatch
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softspeirs · 2 months ago
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Anything to Keep My Mind Off You
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A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who gave my newest OC such a warm reception. I had so much fun writing a different dynamic for these two. Here's another one - "I was worried something happened to you" from this prompt list. I started writing this literally 5 months ago, so if there are any inconsistencies, I'm sorry! Title is from a song of the same name by Young Mister.
Marie has to force herself to take three huge, deep breaths as she listens to the radio chatter in the tower, closing her eyes as she tries not to think the worst.
As the war drags on, it's harder and harder not to assume that every single plane that leaves the base is going to go down. It's hard to be optimistic. It's hard to watch the men laughing and joking with each other like they're not an inch away from death every single day.
And now, they're late.
Not everyone, but them specifically. Blakely, Douglass, Crosby, and handful of others. They're late.
They've been the last one back before, but this feels different. It sets her teeth on edge, and she doesn't have to look around to know everyone else's expressions are grim, somber.
They can't afford to lose any other officers. They can't afford to lose any more men, period. And she can't afford to lose any other friends. It's too much.
Interrogation has already started. They waited as long as they could, but some of the crews needed medical attention, so they can't wait. It feels final.
She feels her throat tighten and shoves the instinct to burst into tears down as far as it will go. She straightens her shoulders. She will not lose herself, especially not in front of the girls. Later, in private, she'll analyze what the pit in her stomach means and why this hurts so acutely, so much more than the losses they've suffered on other days. But not right now.
The chatter has died down, and she takes off her headset, setting it down on the desk in front of her with shaking hands. She has to tell the Colonel, and she'll have to tell Rosie and the other officers. It should be her, they should hear it from--
"Marie!" Someone shouts, and then the siren starts.
She blanches, and then yanks the headset back over her head, listening as a familiar voice asks for landing instructions. "Jesus Christ," she mutters.
Out on the observation deck, she sees them - red-red flares.
Her job is to wait here, to take notes and make a report for the Colonel. That's her job. But her feet are moving without her permission, and it seems like the others have the same idea. They're speeding down the metal stairs, some skipping the bottom two steps, and racing out onto the hardstand without any other thought except seeing who's hurt and who-- she can't finish the thought.
She looks up, shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun. Flares. Red-red. Her heart hammers.
The sirens are still going, and the ambulances are arriving, and it's overwhelming for a moment. She feels like she can't catch her breath.
It's -- she doesn't have favorites. That's ridiculous. But Just-A-Snappin' is one of the original crews. These men have been here the longest out of anyone else, practically. If they were to be lost... it would seem as if the fate of the war is gone right with them.
She watches, her hands clenched into tight fists at her side, as men start to pour out of the plane. It made a hard, skidding landing, and yet she feels something loosen inside of her as she watches them practically fall out of the hatch - Douglass, Crosby, Blakely.
Crosby hits his knees hard on the tarmac, and she meets his eyes briefly as he looks up, trying to get his bearings. She exhales heavily.
They're okay.
She can't watch a second longer. They're alive, and she desperately needs some air.
.
“You, uh—“ Dougie gestures with his fork, “Have you talked to her since your latest fuck up?”
Ev glares at his friend. “Why do you always assume it’s my fault?”
“It usually is.” He shrugs.
Blakely's gaze drifts across the room to the last table by the door.
Marie is there with some of the other Ops girls, all of them absolutely shoveling food into their mouths - this is the first time he’s seen any of them away from their desks in nearly two days.
He's not wrong, but this time he truly doesn't know what he did to upset Marie so much. He barely had time to speak two words to her yesterday before she bit his head off, and even he was blindsided. Normally, he has some idea that he's made her angry, and he has to admit sometimes he just can't help but dig at her a little.
But this time -- he's never seen her face like that. It was a mixture of anger, frustration, and... sadness? He wasn't sure, but it threw him for a loop.
Hell, he'd only been back two days. They were on stand down after their latest run in with their Luftwaffe friends, and had barely made it back in one piece. They'd lost the formation again, and it was only thanks to Crosby's navigating that they managed to find a route back that wasn't bringing fighters on their tail.
She was there, when they landed. Nearly everyone was. It was chaos. The plane was half on fire, and nearly all of them were wounded in some way, though he's filled with pride at the fact that they didn't lose a man, and they didn't lose their cool.
He had been nearly coughing his lungs out when he hauled himself out of the hatch with everyone else, and it was chaos. They needed to get away from the plane, but they needed the ambulance. He had no idea if anyone was wounded badly.
He looked up and he saw her. They hadn't even made eye contact, but he had felt something when he saw her there, waiting for them.
Since then, it's been radio silent from her, except for a few occasions when she'd glared at him so hard he's surprised it didn't burn a hole right through his head.
"I think she likes you." Crosby says, surprising Ev, who nearly chokes on his drink.
"Yeah, all the yelling and screaming really shows it." Dougie says, and Ev snorts.
"I'm serious!" Crosby insists, but he's laughing too.
Ev revels in moments like these, with the guys that have been with him the longest out of anyone here.
He can't help but track the scars on both their faces, the fresh healing wounds that he knows will just add to their treasure trove of combat stories.
"I'll be back," he says, pushing away from the table to head for the restroom.
His shoes click in the corridor outside the loud room, and he pauses, hat in hand when he sees a familiar figure leaning against the wall outside the ladies room.
She straightens when she hears his approach.
.
Marie has to bite back a sigh when she sees his now-familiar form. How does he always find her?
"Fernandez," he says. He's hesitant. She'd roll her eyes if she wasn't so tired.
"Captain." Her eyes find a few cuts and scrapes near his left eyebrow. She still remembers watching them land, the hasty retreat they all made to the infirmary as soon as they could. Interrogation was a nightmare. They were quiet, even Blakely, and Marie could only imagine what they had been through up there.
Her stomach twists. "Are you alright?" She asks. He seems startled by the question. "Just--" She twists her fingers together. "I was worried something happened to you. Up there."
He looks blindsided by her words, and she feels her face start to heat in embarrassment. She waves her hand, "Never mind. I'm going to--"
"It's okay," He says, voice rough. "You, uh-- you didn't really give me the impression you were worried. You know, when you were yelling at me."
Marie frowns. She didn't think she'd been that harsh. She thought it was -- she wanted to go back to normal. She didn't want to face the fact that they'd all almost died up there, that he'd almost died up there.
So she reverted to what they normally do - they argue. Everyone expects them to argue. It was normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But these weren't ordinary times. Not anymore. Every day he went up, the likelihood that he wouldn't come back was higher and higher. It made her nervous every time the light clicked on.
But she couldn't say that.
She lifted her nose in the air to make herself as pretentious as possible. "If you didn't do things so often that made me want to yell at you, then your problem would be solved."
She expects him to close himself off, for his expression to shutter. What she doesn't expect is to watch as his face morphs into amusement, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards.
"You thought something happened to me?"
"Of course I did!"
"And you were worried about that?" His smile changes from amused to absolutely shit-eating, and Marie feels her stomach swoop.
"I wasn't worried--"
"Could hardly sleep, I expect."
"I--"
"Spent the whole day just pacing around, waiting for my return..."
"Oh, shut up," she spits, but there's no heat behind her words. She shakes her head, and she's not able to stop the slow smile on her face either.
"Marie!" A voice calls down the hallway, and they both turn, startled. "Should we deal you in to our next game?"
"I'll be right there," Marie calls to the unfamiliar woman. "I should go." She says to Blakely, quieter.
"Sure." He looks down at the ground. "I'm fine, for what it's worth."
"I know that now." She says, also quiet.
She doesn't tell him that the reason she was so angry, the reason she finds herself constantly on the verge of snapping at him, is because she does worry. She worries about all of them, but it's becoming increasingly hard to ignore the fact that she'd be devastated if something happened to him. Maybe she's crazy, but she finds herself enjoying the way she can get under his skin.
She looks forward to their verbal sparring matches.
She just looks forward to seeing him, period.
And he can never, ever know that. He'd be insufferable.
"Good night, Captain."
"Good night, Fernandez." He says.
Marie walks back to her table and to her friends, trying to fight back her smile. She also fights back the urge to turn back and see if the eyes she can feel on her as she walks are his.
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softspeirs · 2 months ago
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Ron Livingston as Lewis Nixon in BAND OF BROTHERS (2001) ↳ Part Seven: The Breaking Point
Bastogne Bonus:
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