#george luz/oc

[phyllisthefirst]

No tired sigh, no rolling eye, no irony - Part 1

[So, after rewatching the episodes and lurking in the Band of Brothers fandom for a few months, I've decided to finally get active myself and try my hand at a little writing. I love so many of the Easy Boys, but I felt like giving Luz some attention, so here we are. I haven't really had time to do much research yet, so there'll be a lot of inaccuracies to handwave away.

Obviously, this fic is based on the fictionalized representation of the Easy Company men as portrayed on the show. I intend no disrespect to the real men.]

[Masterlist] [on ao3]

Part 1

The first time Phyllis Baker meets George Luz, he nearly knocks her over with his radio. He can't really be blamed for the collision - the radio's a heavy, unwieldy thing and she guesses he's only just received it and hasn't had time to familiarise himself with it yet. And she was the one who rounded the corner at full speed, still riled up from another morning's worth of being overlooked and talked down to and sent for coffee instead of doing her actual job. It's the perfect blend of ingredients for an explosive collision.

"Watch where you're going, Private!", she snaps. "That radio is top-of-the-line equipment, and the military certainly wouldn't want to see it wasted on someone who can't even manage to navigate a corridor, let alone a warzone."

The effect of her words is immediate: The young man's face falls, overcome with a mixture of shame, guilt and fear. His big, brown eyes widen until he resembles nothing so much as a kicked puppy. And Phyllis feels her insides sink as if her stomach had been filled with stones.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am. I should have paid better attention."

Phyllis runs a hand through her hair, a nervous habit she's spent years trying to suppress that's been coming back with a vengeance lately.

"It's not your fault; I didn't watch where I was going. I should apologize for snapping at you."

She doesn't know why she says those words. Never apologize unless you absolutely have to , that's what she's been trying to drill into herself, because every apology these men hear makes them more sure in their assumption that they're better than her. But something about him makes her forget about that self-imposed rule.

Oh, who is she kidding - it's the eyes.

"Did you just get assigned a radioman?" She nods her head towards the radio, although it's fairly obvious that was her clue.

He nods his head, vigorously.

"Yes! We got our designations at breakfast, and this morning we'll begin our specialized training."

"Well, then you better pay close attention - you and that radio may be the difference between reinforcements or defeat one day."

He nods again, somehow even more energetically, tucks his radio under his left arm and raises his right in a salute.

"Yes, Ma'am."

For a second, she thinks he's mocking her. But his face is earnest as ever, the salute perfectly executed and held until the radio under his arm begins to slip and he has to support it with his right. Then she realizes: He thinks she's an officer, or a sergeant at least. He sees the modified WAC uniform she's wearing and doesn't even question why there are no sergeant's stripes, no lieutenant's bars on her jacket.

He doesn't question that she belongs here.

He might be the first man to do so.

She's still working through that revelation, staring at him wordlessly, when he clears his throat and hitches the radio higher up under his arm.

"I ought to get going, Ma'am, or I'll be late for training."

"Of course. It's been nice meeting you, Private..."

"Luz, George Luz."

"Private Luz. Have a good first day of radio training."

With that, she turns to walk away, all her social graces depleted for the day - only to be stopped in her steps when he calls out:

"What's your name, Ma'am?"

When she turns back around, he's smiling, open and curious, and she can't help but smile back.

"Perhaps we'll meet again, George Luz. I'll tell you then."

He laughs.

"I'll hold you to it."

It only occurs to her when she's already rounded the corner that that exchange might be misconstrued as flirting.

What a ridiculous idea, she tells herself. As if any man would ever think that she was flirting with him.

***

The second time George Luz meets Phyllis Baker, he gets the feeling she's trying very hard not to be seen.

He doesn't know why she thinks it would work - even with her shoulders slouched, her hair up in a severe bun and her lipstick a subtle, natural shade she's still awe-inspiring in her olive drab skirt and jacket and still very much a woman, and those are rare around here.

He's been wondering about that, actually: What is she doing here? There are women preparing for the war, he knows that, but they aren't necessarily stationed at Aldbourne. The nurses are in nearby Swindon, and he hasn't yet seen any members of the WAC around here.

But then, what better excuse to approach her than to ask about exactly that?

He mumbles an excuse to Tab and Perco, with whom he was on the way to The Crown after snagging a rare weekend pass, and jogs over to where she's standing by a half-unloaded supply truck, frowning at a clipboard.

"Ma'am? I believe you still owe me a name."

She startles at being addressed, clearly very engrossed in her task, and he feels momentarily bad for disturbing her. But after a moment's struggle to get her bearings, she seems to recognize him, and even smiles.

"Private Luz! How's the radio training coming along?"

"It's going well! I think. At least I haven't blown the whole thing up yet."

She laughs, the melodic sound at odds with her severe appearance. Together with the fact that she remembered his name, the sound makes him bold.

"But don't believe you can distract me from my goal: Your name...?"

"Phyllis Baker. But I have to correct you right there: I'm not an officer, so you don't have to address me as such. I'm sorry I let you believe otherwise the last time we met."

He shrugs.

"It was my mistake, wasn't it? Not your job to teach me how to read someone's insignia." He tilts his head to look at the sleeves on her uniform, but they don't really clear things up. "But if I may ask - what is your rank? And why are you here?"

The second the question is out, George has to fight the urge to slap his forehead. Of all the ways he could have posed that question... His cousin joined the WAC and told him a little about what the women have to put up with in response to their attempt at joining the war effort - doubt, hostility, and outright smear campaigns questioning their morals simply for joining up. He guesses she knows a little about those difficulties as well, and the pinched expression on her face suggests the same. He quickly corrects himself.

"I mean, what division are you with? I didn't know there were WACs at Aldbourne."

"There aren't. I'm with the 506th, to support the logistics and supply officers."

He nods, not fully understanding yet but not stupid enough to ask for more details. But before he can ask, she blurts out:

"Which means I know more about logistics than most of the men around me, but they still insist on ignoring my advice in favour of sending me to get coffee."

She's barely finished speaking when her eyes widen comically.

"I mean... I didn't mean to say..."

The surprise on her face turns to outright fear, and he quickly reaches out to place a calming hand on hers, right where she grips the clipboard with white-knuckle force.

"No need to explain. Our CO's an absolute ass."

For a moment, the fear in her eyes remains, then it slowly eases out, replaced by a relieved smile. He drops his hand, surprised to find himself reluctant to do so. Her skin is soft, surprisingly so for such a pragmatic-seeming woman.

"Most of my superiors are sensible men, luckily. They just have their difficulties accepting that they're supposed to work with a woman sometimes."

He nods, not quite knowing what to say to that - he can imagine but probably never quite understand what she's dealing with. Then something else occurs to him.

"So, where did you learn so much about logistics?"

She hesitates for a moment, the way he's seen her do before.

"My father is in the import trade. I've been helping him at the office since I was a little girl, and I’ve been running his entire office for the European branch for years."

George whistles through his teeth.

"That sounds like a lot of responsibility. And you gave all of that up just to come here and fetch coffee?"

She laughs again, a sound he's quickly becoming addicted to.

"We all should do our part, shouldn't we?" She tilts her head to study him, and he suddenly feels like a specimen under a microscope. It's a strange but not entirely unpleasant sensation.

"What about you, Private Luz? How did you end up here?"

He shrugs - compared to her, he doesn't have any special knowledge to add to the war effort - just his body and a certain recklessness he hopes will translate into fearlessness, when the time calls for it.

"Like most of the men - Pearl Harbour was attacked, and I figured I better sign up to do something ." He grins, aware that he's making himself seem a little too selfless with that description. "Plus, the pay's double for a paratrooper."

She laughs again.

"So is the risk, I hear."

"Hopefully the glory as well."

It's a stupid thing to say - sure, he doesn't mind the attention his uniform gets him when they're out trying to impress women - even though he never takes it quite as far as some of the others, presenting sob stories of their impending heroic death in the pursuit of some female attention. But he probably should try and make himself look a little more upstanding in front of her, shouldn't he? Then again, he has a feeling she'd see right through any front he'd try to put up.

"You're the first ones to attempt dropping out of airplanes into occupied territory. I'm sure your place in history is secure."

He doesn't know what to say to that, but he doesn't have to come up with an answer: Behind them, Muck, Penkala and Malarkey are passing by on their way to the pub and calling out to him.

"Hey Luz, you about done bothering the lady?", Penk calls out, and George suppresses the urge to send him a rude gesture. He does have some manners.

"You're not bothering me," she says, a little hastily, and he swears he can see the faint hint of a blush on her cheeks. "But I don't want to keep you from your friends."

"Why don't you just come with us? Or join us later, if you still have work to do."

She looks at the truck beside her, grimacing.

"I do, unfortunately. Half of that truckload was supposed to go to Littlecote, but no one seems to be able to figure out which half. I'm afraid I'll be here a little while longer."

"That's a shame. Some other time then? You gotta meet the guys - we're both part of the same division after all."

"Sure, maybe some other day."

That doesn't sound very convincing, but George chooses to believe it's just because she's mentally preparing to go back to work, and not because she isn't all that keen on going to the pub with him.

"Well, if you ever find the time, look for us at The Crown. If you can't find me, just ask around for Easy Company, and the boys will take care of you."

"Easy Company, huh? I've heard of you."

"That's cause we're the best. Have been since Toccoa."

"Is that right," she teases.

"That's right," is his firm reply, followed by an equally firm "and we'll prove it just as soon as they finally drop us into Germany."

With that, he jogs off to catch up with Skip, Penk and Malarkey. When he turns around to look back at her, Phyllis's head is already bent over her clipboard again.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 1: The Fall

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's finest soldiers fall through a foxhole and into another time?

Words: 1,314

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Author's Note: HERE WE GO LADS!! The first chapter of my self-serving BoB time travel fic!! If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know !!

Luz was the last one to arrive on the ground, immediately crashing into Malarkey with a resounding thud… Well, resounding for someone as small as Luz. He was the last to drop onto the pile of Easy Company men - a giant pile of limbs, helmets, and olive drab was groaning in pain, bewildered eyes darting in every direction. One minute they were dropping into a foxhole in Bastogne. The next?

Winters was the first to jump to his feet, helping his men find their footing. Up came Nixon, Liebgott, Roe, Guarnere, and Bull Randleman. Speirs and Toye had gotten themselves up and situated, looking to make sure they had all their gear. Luz was still on the ground, trying to get his bearings, while poor Malarkey was doubled over underneath him. “FUCK, LUZ!” Cried Malarkey, his hands shooting to his ribs as his body folded in pain. “I think you broke something!” Malarkey’s feet rammed themselves into Luz’s back, flinging the soldier off of Malarkey and onto his stomach with an “oof!”

“You say that like I did it on purpose!” Luz cried, wincing from the boots in his back. By the time George finally got his feet beneath him, Roe was already looking at Malarkey’s side, inspecting his injury.

The Cajun grimaced and shook his head. “It might be broke, Malark. We should get you to the aid station,” Roe spoke thoughtfully. "Which way sho-" Before the medic could finish his thought, all the boys realized something. They had no idea where they were.

The boys all looked around and took in their surroundings. “Where the fuck are we?” each soldier thought to himself, attempting to find a single scrap of familiarity in the landscape around them. The higher they looked, the taller the walls on either side of the group grew - not tall enough to be skyscrapers, but tall enough to tell the ten men that they were not in Bastogne anymore. What was once a frigid warzone, one step away from death, now became… warm? Sunny? Well, it seemed sunny at the ends of the alleyway.

“...are we in an alley?” Bull mused to no one in particular. He absentmindedly chewed on his Emotional Support Cigar, using this to contain his anxious thoughts and energy.

"It appears so Bull…" Winters replied. He had intended for the sentence to be more assuring, but the men's leader was just as confused as the rest of them. The captain exchanged a glance with Nixon beside him, the only man he was comfortable sharing his worry with. The two looked at each other, their eyes conveying confusion mixed with anxiety - how could this happen? What exactly happened?

"Captain Nixon, you're an intelligence officer right? Do you know where we are sir?" Guarnere asked as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, still taking in the alley around them. The brick buildings on either side of the men provided shade from the sun shining down on the pavement. The alley appeared to be barren, save for a Hershey bar wrapper beside Luz's feet. Bending down to get a closer look, the radioman saw a piece of text on the wrapper that morphed his confusion into panic - "expires January 2023." Before Nixon could answer Guarnere, Luz's shaky voice spoke up.

"Um, Captain Winters? You might wanna see this sir," Luz said as he handed the wrapper to his CO, his mind going a mile a minute. Dick took the wrapper from George and saw the text, scrunching his face as he read the expiration date.

"Nix, how long does it take chocolate to expire?" Winters asked, looking up at his captain.

"Why the hell do you think I'd know that?" Nixon replied, one eyebrow halfway up his forehead. Only after Lewis posed his question did he see the infamous date on the wrapper. Nixon paused for a second before he spoke up, "well surely it would expire way before 2023…"

Upon hearing the year, every man's eyes became the size of dinner plates. "Excuse me, sir? I think I heard you wrong, sounded like you said 2023," Liebgott questioned, a nervous chuckle following his words. He couldn't have heard Nixon right…right? Winters simply handed the wrapper over to Liebgott, the poor man's stomach dropping down below his feet.

"That's not possible, this isn't possible…" Toye muttered under his breath, trying to shake the idea from his head. While all the men were trying to process what Nixon said, Speirs had already made his way to the end of the alley.

"Captain Winters!" He called out, twisting his body to call out behind where he was standing. Winters nodded to Nixon, a silent request to keep an eye on his men, before making his way down to Speirs. The warm sun at the end of the alley was a welcomed surprise to Dick - it felt like forever since he felt mild, comfortable weather. Bastogne was the literal manifestation of hell frozen over, and the sun kissing Dick's skin was its absolute anathema. "Sir, I don't think this is Bastogne," Speirs' comment shook Winters from his mind, reminding the captain of the problem at hand. The two took in the scene around them. Winters thought he was seeing cars - they had four wheels, and they were driving on the street, but they were far beyond any car anyone in the company has ever seen before. The soldiers seem to have landed in a city of some kind. All the street signs were in English, giving Winters a small amount of relief - wherever they were, they spoke the language. Something different stood out to Speirs, though… the noise. It was not bombs exploding and trees breaking like in Bastogne. It was just as loud, but more…lively? The sounds, whatever they were, seemed to celebrate life rather than take it - honking horns, vehicles driving by, music Speirs had never heard before blaring from their windows - he would never admit to it, but Speirs felt a pang of relief knowing he was not in a war zone.

"I'm inclined to agree with you, Ron," Dick replied before hearing their medic call out.

"Sir! We need to get Malarkey to the ai- uh… I guess a hospital," Eugene called out as he made his way towards Winters and Speirs, supporting Easy's other redhead on his shoulder. Malarkey's face twisted in pain as he held his side with the arm that was not slung over Roe's shoulders. Dick nodded in understanding at his medic and stepped a foot out of the alley, getting a better look at the buildings around him. To his right, Winters spotted the red cross universally associated with medicine displayed prominently on a tall, light-colored building riddled with mirrored windows. Beneath the cross were the words "Emergency Room."

"You think they can help Malarkey?" Speirs asked, hopeful but confused at the words. Seeing Roe holding up Malarkey, the officer quickly made his way to Malarkey's other side, taking his arm over his shoulder to help the soldier.

"It's worth a shot, wait here," Winters replied, heading back to the rest of the men to tell them the plan. "Alright men, there's a place that looks like a hospital a short walk from here. Keep your guard up. Just because it doesn't look like Bastogne, doesn't mean we're in friendly territory," he instructed the six men before him, "Keep Speirs, Malarkey, and Roe in the center, I'll lead the way to the hospital." A chorus of "yes sirs" was heard from Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, and Bull, while Nixon nodded in understanding and walked up beside Winters.

"Are you sure about this?" Nixon asked under his breath, ensuring only Winters heard his question.

"Got any better ideas?" Dick replied, cautiously emerging onto the sidewalk. The men left the safe haven of their alley and began the trek to save their friend.

~~~~~

Chapter Two

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you think and be on the lookout for Chapter 2: the Hospital!!

Taglist: @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @executethyself35 , @stolen94 , @dontirrigateme

[blueberry-ovaries]

CHAPTER ONE: HELL IS A SANDY TOWN IN NORTH AFRICA

A/N: i’m so excited to present the first chapter of hiraeth! I really hope you guys love Winnie as much as I do! thank you all so much for the love <3

Word count: 1.9k

Content warnings: violence, swearing, reference to implied extreme violence (only before and after, no detailed description), probably historical inaccuracy

< prologue > - < next chapter >

The sand in Tobruk was different to the sand at the beach Winnie decided. In Tobruk, it was sharp. Small flecks leaving traces of dirt on her cheeks, specks of blood blooming against her skin. Her rucksack held diminished resources, her bandages covered in a layer of dust and grime. Her MRE supply dwindling every time the hot dessert was drowned under a blanket of night. Sometimes they had fires, but most of the time they were left to huddle together, utilising bodies for warmth.

Fires drew attention and attention drew bullets. Being surrounded on three of the four sides was relentless work, fighting and survival. Much more so when the fourth side was a small shipping dock. A dock that may seem irrelevant, but in the grand scheme of the war, that small little dock could change the course of the war in Europe.

Severely out numbered and surrounded, the Allies were forced to fight for mere inches of land. The Germans would not get to the dock. So they dug in. Put the hospital underneath an old tree in the hardened sand, and rationed their food for months on end.

Silver marks littered her skin, scars showcasing her survival. Seven in total, the largest, one running from nose to cheek on her right side. In her fourth month in Tobruk, A small squad of German soldiers broke the line, guns raised and bayonets fastened. They charged Winnie and her squad, a small group watching the line. Their guns lay forgotten next to their game of cards, as they fought with fists and rocks.

Winnie was pinned. An arm against her neck, knife to cheek. Squirming against the hot sand as her cheeks flush with exertion. He flicks a look down her face, ah a woman- a girl. Such a shame that a pretty thing like you is stuck in such a horrible place. His breath was hot against her skin as she pushed against him, his arms much more refined than that of a sixteen year old girl. Tell me, how do they treat a pretty thing like you? She spits, he flinches back, a snarl on his lips. stupid bitch he growls, as he presses down on her neck, his forearm cutting off air supply. He slices the knife down, the top of her nose to her right cheek. Blood streams down her chin as she screams. She was going to die, afraid and pinned.

His arms move to pin hers above her head as she writhes and squirms against it. Her chest heaved, eyes darting frantically. out. she needed to get out. The sting of the blade cutting through flesh holds no place in her mind. out. out. out. His free arm holds her face in a loose grip, he spits out threats of a slow death and insults.

As he moves the hand on her face towards her neck with a firm hand, and his face pressed near her ear, the world freezes. It’s just Winnie and the german soldier, and one of them would die tonight. Her arms can’t break free to reach the knife, his legs have caged hers down. So like a rabid dog, she bares teeth.

When the pounding in her ears becomes a soft ringing and her chest no longer racks with shuddered breaths. The metallic taste on her tongue drips from her chin. She looks down at her hands, shaking. His blood pools around him, shining in the reflection of the moon. i’m a monster. i’m a monster… or maybe a dog backed into a corner, forced to bare teeth and bite.

—

5th of August, 1942

With a gasp she shoots to a sitting position, the room blurry with sleep. Chest heaving Winnie swings her socked feet onto the ground, hands tangled in her hair. Her shirt sticks to her back although it’s cold and coming into winter.

Two days ago, Winnie was stationed at the Toccoa Georgia Base camp, where she would join the 2nd Battalion ,506th parachute infantry regiment, 101st division, easy company. She’s told they are going to be the best of the best. If you asked her, she would say they can’t be that good if they are yanks.

Today is the day. She meets her new platoon, new faces, same issues. Colonel Sink had graciously taken in the teen, assuring her commander in the ANZAC’s that she would fit right in, if she’s really as good as they say.

The morning wake up happened shortly after Winnie was dressed, packed and ready to go. Swinging her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her new yank hat. She made her way towards Colonel sinks office.

With a firm hand she knocks, straightening out her ever crooked collar

“Come in” the colonels gruff voice calls from behind the door

taking a shuddering breath, Winnie opens the door, walking in, standing with her hands behind her back. Frowning slightly at the odd looks she’s receiving

“Oh, right sorry” she mumbles, standing at attention.

As Colonel Sink gives her a salute in return she stands with her arms tucked behind her back. She shifts on her feet, picking at the skin around her nails.

“Colonel Sink, sir? i was asked to come and see you” she states hesitatingly “Winifred Hayes, your new-“

“I know who you are sergeant” the Colonel cuts her off. The older man pushes up on his desk to a stand, walking around to lean on the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at her.

“Right. of course… sir” she answers quickly

“Do you know why you’re here Miss Hayes?” he asks firmly. Although older, and his hair more grey than brown, Colonel Sink held an aura of respect that was hard to not obey. Even someone like Winnie, who grew up in an informal setting, and called her previous leaders and CO’s various nicknames, knew that the man was someone to be respected. That’s not to say she held no respect for her previous CO’s, no. She respected them greatly, but the jump from Australian to American norms was a shock.

“To serve… sir?” Winnie stutters slightly, trying to remember that sir is used more consistent here. It was rather bothersome.

“Well i would hope so Miss Hayes” He answers with a light chuckle. “you are here because, you’re good.”

“Sir…?” Winnie frowns. Of course she was good.

“Never in all my years in the army have I heard of a woman, much less a girl, fighting in a war, to the extent you have, no less” He congratulates “And there ain’t much of you either! Look at you!” With a wheezy laugh the Colonel claps a hand over her shoulder

“Oh… well thank you… Sir” confused and quite frankly startled at the congratulations, Winnie picks up her bag, following Colonel Sink outside

“Now, don’t be too startled by your new CO. He’s tough, but i think you’ll fit right in with the men. Easy company is going to be our best” he explains, Winnie nodding along “Don’t expect him to go easy on you just ‘cause you’re a girl either, he’s gone treat you the same as the men”

The mans southern accent was quite odd. Winnie couldn’t place where it was from. Not that she knew much about southern accents

“Now, unfortunately we don’t have the space for a women’s only area, so you’re just gone have to figure it out with the men” Colonel Sink kept a firm grip on her shoulder as he walked towards, what Winnie assumes is her new company.

“Lieutenant Sobel, Winters” Colonel Sink returns the salute “This here is your new easy company member”

“…Sirs” Winnie salutes the two men, giving an awkward smile as they return it.

“Now i got some business to attend to, i trust she will be fine in your capable hands?” The Colonel finalises as he leaves

——

Winnie had never wanted the ground to swallow her whole more than she does right now.

She’s standing. In front of all of Easy company, as they stare at her. She can’t tell if it’s curiosity, hate or confusion.

“Men.” Sobel yells “Colonel Sink has decided that we deserved to be punished, in some form. At least that is the only reason i can think that a girl has been placed in our platoon”

Winnie pulls a face of disgust… or maybe it’s anger. Before she realises where she was and quickly stares blankly. An awkward silence had fallen over the group as she shifted her, rather heavy mind you, bag on her shoulder

“I expect each and every one of you to treat her” Sobel was glaring at her, she could feel the disgust in his eyes and words “how she deserves to be treated.”

Swallowing what she was sure was a string of curses Winnie feels a hand in her shoulder, Lieutenant Winters… was it?… And all the Easy men were gone. She had zoned out. again.

“Winifred Hayes was it?” The red headed man asked “Lieutenant Winters”

He held his hand out expectantly. She shook it firmly. Just like dad taught. Before being led away from the training ground

“Yes, although just Winnie is fine” with an appreciative smile she follows his lead “Only my grandmother calls me Winifred”

“Well just Winnie… Dick is also fine, when it’s not a formal setting of course” He smirked

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to upset a formal setting” Winnie answered with an awkward smile

“Let me grab that for you” Dick offered, reaching for her bag

“Oh… it’s really no worry, it’s probably pretty heavy” She mumbles as she rubbed the back of her neck

“I insist. It’s the least i could do after watching you stand in-front of the men like that” Instantly he took her bag from her shoulder “The men aren’t as bad as they look. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine… although many of them haven’t expected a girl at training”

“It’s fine. Not many people do” Winnie answers honestly, the steps to the barracks creaking under the weight of the two of them

The door creaks open, the shuffling inside the room freezing at the intrusion of the two new people, card games lay on various beds, feet kicked up with books and magazines being read. Instantly the men all stand to salute

“At ease gentlemen” Winters salutes back

The men fall back into a relaxed stance, staring… glaring? at Winnie. She gives an awkward smile.

“Gentlemen, this is Winnie Hayes, she’s new to Easy.” Winnie shifts on her feet “i expect you all to be kind to her, show her around. She’s one of us now, and she may just have some… wisdom to pass on”

Dick places her bag on an empty bed between two men, one a surly looking man with a sharp jaw, the other a red headed man who somehow had three people squashed onto his bed. The atmosphere only became more tense as Lieutenant Winters left, the door slamming behind him

“Where you from?” the surly man questioned, his accent was different to Colonel Sinks and Lieutenant Winters, it was more rough around the edges

“Why the fuck you wanna know?” She answers crossing her arms over her chest.

The surly man raises an eyebrow. great fucking going Winnie, piss off the first person you talk to. But to her surprise his lip quirks in a smile

“You got some bite to ya” he smirks.

She goes to answer as the door slams open again really should get that fixed. Sobel stands in the doorway, a glare on his face as he yells

“Get dressed we’re running Currahee”

A overall groan leaves the men after he leaves. Winnie just had one question…what the fuck was a currahee?

——

A/N: Winnie’s hatred for Americans will be explained! although it’s not a proper hatred

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[bandagesandloveletters]

Band of Brothers Masterlist

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎!

Tag list: If you like my work, feel free to comment, and I can add you to a tag list for any future works either in general or for a certain character.

Lewis Nixon

Cold as Ice -A little something where Nixon learns to ice skate but it’s all part of a deeper plan. Pairing: Lewis Nixon x OFC.

Richard "Dick" Winters

Hidden Love - A request written around the reader and Dick having a hidden love for each other. Pairing: Richard Winters x Reader

Chuck Grant

Get Well Soon - Chuck gets a visitor to cheer him up. Pairing: Chuck Grant x OFC

Floyd Talbert

Frostbite and Kisses - In the cold depths of Bastogne, a little warmth is always welcome. Pairing: Floyd Talbert x OFC (Rosie Moretti)

George Luz

Sentimental Journey - A dance brings two kindred souls together. Pairing: George Luz x OFC (Ellis White)

Joe Liebgott

A Sergeant's Sorrow - A conversation between two friends after Brécourt. Pairing: Joe Liebgott x Platonic!OFC (Lizzie Welsh)

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Perfect Moments

Julian you are my favourite person. I love you so much. You’re the sweetest, kindest, funniest, most loveable person ever and I can’t imagine life without you in it. Every time we talk you never fail to make me laugh and I’m grateful for you every day. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year. I hope you enjoy this little snippet of Julian Owens and George’s Christmas adventure 🩷

The snow crunched under Julian’s jump boots as he followed the ice-covered, cobbled path to Jess’ front door. Aldbourne had been covered in a blanket of white and he’d slipped his way along the roads, aimlessly switching between the pavement and the road. He was thankful there wasn’t too much traffic through the town. The cold had seeped into his bones and the brisk easterly wind had yet to subside. His hand wrapped against the wooden door followed by a muffled, “It’s open.”

Julian stepped in, brushing the snow from his boots before stepping into the kitchen. The smell of bread cooking wafted through the air and he could feel his mouth beginning to water.

“Jess, where are you?” Julian followed the noise of Jess’ humming until he found her hanging a garland over the fireplace.

“Wow, it’s like a Christmas grotto in here,” Julian jested and squeaked when a pillow came into contact with his face.

“Now Cherie, no foul play,” Eugene's strong southern accent caught Julian off guard and he spun on his heels to face him. Eugene was dressed in his brown dress trousers and a white vest, his hair was messy and he still looked half asleep as he took a sip from his cup of what Julian assumed was coffee.

“You slept with him,” Julian squeaked, shooting Jess a shocked look that screamed with unanswered questions.

“What?

“No!”

The pair spoke at the same time and Julian whipped his head back and forth between them.

“No Julian. Eugene and I went to the Christmas dance last night, remember? It was late when we got back and we just got talking so I said he could stay. He slept on the sofa like a true gentleman.”

Eugene’s cheeks turned pink and he bowed his head in embarrassment at the situation.

“So you two didn’t…” Julian trailed off, squinting suspiciously at his friend.

“No Julian we didn’t.”

Eugene cleared his throat beside them, having gathered the rest of his uniform off the sofa and was waiting in the doorway. “I should go, Ma Cherie. Who knows what they’ll ‘ave got up to in one evening without me on base. I’ll ‘ave to patch up half of the company.” Eugene leant forward and pressed a delicate kiss to Jess’ cheek.

“Must you go already? Will I see you later?” Jess whined, looking up at the medic.

“Of course,” Eugene reassured her as Julian interrupted.

“Well actually Bill only got into one fight, Babe accidentally stabbed himself in the hand with a dart and Hoobler is dying from his hangover but overall we all made it back alive. In Easy Company’s standards I’d call that a success,” Julian grinned triumphantly but Eugene just rolled his eyes.

“See what I ‘ace to put up with?”

“I do, Love. Good luck,” Jess placed a kiss on Eugene's cheek and watched as he disappeared into the snowy landscape.

“Well I never. Could have caught you in the act.”

“Will you stop that, Julian,” Jess laughed. “Eugene’s not like that.”

“No, I know that. You’re in safe hands with him. I never have to worry about you.”

Jess smiled at her friend, hanging up the last of the garland. “So what brings you over? I thought we were meeting at the Crown tonight with Josie.”

“We are. I just… I have some news,” Julian scratched the back of his neck nervously. Sensing his apprehension, Jess guided him to the sofa and pulled him into a hug.

“You know you can tell me anything right? Anything at all.”

“George kissed me,” Julian blurted out. “We had too much to drink and he kissed me, and this morning he woke up in my arms and realised and then panicked. He hasn’t spoken to me since,” Julian reeled off nearly in one breath before burying his head in a nearby pillow. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh Jules, I’m sorry. I’m sure he didn’t mean to act that way. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. I’m sure he’s as surprised as you are,” Jess tried to reason with him. “Maybe he’s never kissed a man before.”

“Maybe not I guess. I suppose I did sort of have a meltdown after my first kiss,” Julian whined. “I’m just scared I’ll mess everything up.”

Julian buried his head once more but felt some sense of relief when Jess began carding her fingers through his red locks.

“Trust me. You two are going to be just fine.”

Josie reached forward, pushing away Jess’ collar to reveal a small line of circular bruises along her collarbone.

“Jess, what in God’s name is that?” Jess launched herself out of the chair, smacking her neck with her hand.

“What is it? Is there a spider on me?” She squeaked, her irrational fear of spiders from when she was young still present in her adult life.

“No, those bruises. What happened?” Josie questioned, cocking a dark eyebrow at her friend. Jess’ cheeks turned a dark shade of crimson, her eyes avoiding Josie’s as she took her seat once more.

“Oh, it’s nothing… I just knocked myself.”

“You knocked yourself four times in a perfect circular line?” Josie didn’t believe her friend but also couldn’t quite work out why she was lying.

Too engrossed in what Jess was hiding, neither of them noticed Julian’s arrival until he took a seat between them, sniggering loudly and pointing at Jess’ beck.

“No way! I never knew Eugene had it in him!” Julian exclaimed, pulling Jess’ collar further back to reveal the love bites that Eugene had so lovingly placed along her collarbone the night before.

“Julian! Please stop?” Jess exclaimed, pulling her collar up and doing up the top button, embarrassment etched on her pale face.

“Oh no, that’s not what I think it is, is it?” Josie suddenly twigged, her eyes growing wide at the realisation.

“You and Eugene… you know?”

Julian chuckled as Jess tried to hide her face from her friends as their jests continued.

“No, we didn’t. It was just kissing. Eugene is…”

“A gentleman. We know,” her friends said in unison.

“Just wait until I see Eugene later, I’ll give him hell.”

Jess shot him a warning look but both knew Eugene wouldn’t say anything, he’d be too embarrassed himself to tell Julian what happened, and deep down Julian was pleased for both of them. Josie on the other hand was still in complete shock.

“Since when have you two been that close?” Josie demanded, seemingly a little hurt that she was the last to find out.

“We’ve been close for a while,” Jess admitted. “But you’ve been so caught up with Lieutenant Nixon and your newfound love, you didn’t notice. I’m spending more and more time with Eugene on weekends. Just a few weekends ago we went to London together.”

It was now Josie’s turn to look sheepish. She had to admit her mind had been preoccupied recently but she thought she would have noticed the growing love between her best female friend and Easy Company’s loveable medic.

“Well, I’m very pleased for you. He seems like one of the good ones.”

“He is,” Jess smiled, but the joy was short-lived when her mouth shot open and a silent gasp escaped. She hastily grabbed Josie’s hand insisting that they go and talk to Kate the barmaid. Julian was left alone and confused, until he noticed a familiar brown-headed figure approaching him with an awkward smile on his lips.

“Is this seat taken?” George asked, running his fingers over the wooden back.

“Yes! No… I mean no, no one is using it so you can take the chair,” Julian stuttered, his leg tapping up and down underneath the table.

“Well, I was kind of hoping I could sit here with you but I understand if you don’t want me to,” George replied sheepishly and Julian didn’t think he’d ever seen George look so deflated.

“No, you can sit with me, please,” Julian gestured and George’s face lit up as he took the seat.

“I umm… I wanted to apologise for this morning. I just freaked out and I ran and I’m not proud of it,” George looked down at his hands, picking aimlessly at his fingernails. “I’m real sorry, Julian.”

“It’s okay. I understand why you ran… it’s not normal is it.”

“Hey, no don’t start putting yourself down and who cares if people think it’s normal? Julian, I can’t deny my… feelings anymore. I like you and I don’t exactly know why I feel like that but I really like you,” George admitted, his eyes glazed and tearful and Julian reached out, grabbing hold of George’s hand under the table.

“I really like you too, George,” Julian squeezed his hand and George grinned back at him.

“Well, I’m glad you like me too because otherwise, that would have been awkward.”

Julian felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Jess and Josie standing behind him.

“All right?” Jess mouthed as the girls took their seats. Julian grinned in return.

Not long after Lieutenant Nixon and Eugene Roe joined them at the table and the party was in full swing. Drinks were passed around, Nixon with his love of alcohol was already slightly tipsy so more than a few rounds were on him. By the end of the evening, everyone was jovial, slightly drunk and their eyes watering from laughter. No

Julian and George decided to head back to their billets, taking the long way back and wandering down the dark, country lanes holding hands. There was no fear of anyone seeing them out here.

“You know, I could get used to this,” George smiled up at Julian, a wide toothy grin as his brown eyes shone in the moonlight.

“Me too,” Julian smiled sadly because the reality was they never would be able to get used to this, walking hand in hand in public but for now, in this small tranquil part of the world at least they could pretend.

“Well at least for tonight I can have you and if I can steal even the smallest moments by your side then I’m a happy man,” George admitted, his arm wrapping around Julian’s back so he could hold him closer. Julian didn’t really believe in perfect moments until he met George Luz but then again maybe the moments weren’t perfect, maybe it was George that was.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @lena-basilone @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! - 2nd Part (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

I have absolutely no patience... so here is the next part because I'm not a tease and I won't make you wait hehe. I have a lot more I might post everyday until I run out! Because like I said, no patience in my body! Also the main love is Malarkey but I have a problem and make everyone all love the OC. I'M SORRY I CAN'T NOT!! Warning is a slow burn I'm sorry I have ideas in my head and so things can't happen in the timeline without the ideas. I have to have everything ahhhhh. Anyway enjoy!

People step out of the way as the tall man pushes us through the crowd, we reach another soldier dressed in the same uniform. 

“Captain Winters, Sir!” The man's low voice carries over the commotion of the crowd, Captain Winters who is talking to another soldier turns his attention towards us. 

“Yes?” Winters replies. 

“Sir, we have a field nurse who is here somehow by herself?” The man says from behind me. I watch Winters glance over to me then back to the man.

“Sergeant Randleman there are no field nurses here and there are none meant to arrive.” Winters appears just as confused as the man, who’s name apparently is Randleman, was when I spoke to him first. Winters steps closer to me. Reading my name badge that is pinned to my top. 

“Emily Lane?” He looks at me for confirmation.  

“Yes,” I pause looking up at Winters, “Sir?” I feel compelled to also call him Sir since everyone is saying it. 

“How did you get here?” Winters asks. I let out a chuckle. I have been wondering the same thing. I sober myself when Winters gives me a confused look. I probably look crazy standing here laughing to myself. I go to open my mouth to say, oh I don’t know I was pulled through a portal of some sorts, but that coming out of my mouth in this situation might not be the best idea. My mind races. How the hell do I explain this? I open and close my mouth, Winters frowns at me squinting his eyes as if daring me to speak. 

“I, uh…” I start to say. Think! Think of something to say, these men are looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Emily, how did you get to Holland?” Winters asks again, pushing me for an answer.

“HOLLAND?!” I blurt before my brain can catch up. The two men seem shocked by my outburst. I cover my mouth with my hand before anything else can come out of my mouth. 

The two men share a look, I glance from one to the other. “Bull, why don’t you take Emily here to see Doc, she seems to be in shock.” Winters takes my shoulder turning me back to the care of Randleman aka Bull apparently. 

I am once again being pushed through the crowd by Bull. People are still dancing and cheering, a man approaches with his eyes closed and lips puckered out steering straight for me, I flinch back, my arms coming up to deflect the incoming kiss, a nervous laugh bubbles from my lips. I look back at Bull trying to gauge if he just saw that as well. He leans close to me, “They’re celebrating.” 

“I can see that.” I watch other soldiers move through the crowd; they are swarmed, being hugged and kissed as they walk. 

“What are they celebrating?” I ask. 

“The Germans have left, they are liberated.” he answers, still moving us through the crowd. 

The Germans? 

We stop at a commotion in the road, a woman next to us is grabbed by two men. They violently rip off her dress, I gasp moving forward to try and help her but Bull’s grip remains firm. I turn to face him showing my distress, “It’s not our business darlin’.” 

I continue to watch, spotting other women stripped of their clothes and their hair has been cut. The woman that was next to me cries out as a man with scissors hacks her hair. A lady is dragged by us with a symbol painted on her forehead, I step back into Bull realising what that symbol is. My hands shake and my chest heaves, the world spins. A swash sticker is painted onto the foreheads of other ladies. 

Where am I? What is going on?

“You alright there lil’ lady?” Bull notices my panic, holding me up as my legs almost give way. 

“What is the date today Bull?” I pant, my eyes darting around. I’m wrong, this is a reenactment of some sorts. This isn’t happening. 

“Well today is the 16th of September.” Bull replies looking confused, his cigar hanging from his teeth as he speaks. My breath leaves me in a short huff as the answer did not comfort me at all. 

“The year, Bull?” I ask, my words holding an ounce of hope that was soon to be extinguished as he opened his mouth to speak once more. 

“Why 1944, of course.” He says matter-of-factly, his eyebrows pulled down over his eyes even more, his expression mimicking a mix of confusion and concern as he looks at my face, trying to gauge my thoughts.

“1944?” I choke out. NO NO NO NO. I try to catch my breath, steady my heart rate but it’s no use. Black dots dance around my vision. Panic rises in my chest, my stomach twists. I spin around looking for the portal I came from. Where was it? 

“Emily take a breath.” Bull’s muffled voice says in my ear. I shake my head pushing away from him. I stagger backwards hitting people as I go. Bull follows closely, holding out his hands to catch me. This has to be some sick dream? That's right, this is a dream! I raise my hand striking it to my cheek, it stings but I am still here. Bull looks at me shocked by my actions, I raise my hand again readying myself for another blow, harder this time. My hand is caught mid-air, my other hand also captured by a very concerned Bull. 

“Bull,” I say very seriously, “I need you to hit me.”

“Hit you?” Bull questions. “I’m not going to hit you darlin’.” He keeps my hands in his, I’m sure he’s worried what I will do next if I have free reign of my hands again.  

“Bull, Emily.” Winters appears next to Bull, he glances at the position that Bull and I are in. “As you were.” He says bewildered, moving forward with the rest of the soldiers. Bull pulls me towards him, tucking me under his arm and following Winters through the crowd. I don’t struggle, I march forward like a zombie, my brain has officially shut off leaving me detached from reality. In my mind I am back in my apartment, making dinner and then sitting down to watch a show then crawling into bed to get up and do the same thing the next day.   

After some walking we leave the crowd behind moving away from the town, Bull continues to follow the rest of the soldiers still having me tucked under his arm like an injured bird. I don’t talk, I listen as the soldiers banter, most of what they say makes no sense to me. Dusk falls quickly, the group makes camp on the side of the road we have been walking for the day. I get given food and water, I slowly sip my water but I give my food to Bull, my stomach is still twisted in knots. I know none of it will stay down. Bull asks if I am sure to which I nod, he takes the food from me and quickly eats. None of the other soldiers seem to pay much attention to me, I guess since I have been so quiet and mostly hidden behind Bull for most of the day they didn’t see me. My white uniform top is now dirty and sweaty, my feet hurt from the constant walking. I'm sure I have blisters on the backs of my heels. A hand taps my shoulder, I jump swinging around to see Winters standing over me. “Emily, I need you to come with me. You too Bull.” Bull stands quickly following orders, I stand slowly and trail behind the two. We make our way through the makeshift camp, only one tent is pitched, the rest of the men are sprawled out on the grass under the stars, quietly chatting to each other. We make our way to the tent, Bull and Winters disappear inside. A thought crosses my mind, run, while no one is looking, run back to the town, find the portal and forget what you saw. I freeze glancing around the dark land that seems to sprawl for miles. No, something in my gut tells me I need to stay with these men, if I run I could find much worse. I shuffle my feet following the men into the tent. As I enter Bull and Winters sit at a table that has a map pinned to it. 

“Emily, we radioed command and there is no record of a field nurse by your name.” Winters looks up at me, I still stand wringing my hands in front of me. I wrack my brain for an explanation. 

“I’m independent, Sir.” I state. 

“Independent?” Winters hums. “And how did you get to Holland?” 

“I was signing up to be a field nurse in England, when I heard whispers of Paratroopers making their next jump into Holland. I also heard they had only a few medics, so I figured I would meet you in Holland and join you and your men, Sir.” I lie through my teeth. I keep my stare steady, and my body language relaxed to make my lies more believable. 

“Why were you so frantic in the town then?” Winters asks. 

“I got turned around in the crowd, Sir. I was worried I had missed my opportunity to join you. I was trying to tell Sergeant Randleman but I seemed to have confused him.” I glance at Bull, he watches me closely. 

“Why did you ask for the date? Specifically the year?” Winters continues with his interrogation. 

“Well I was tired from all my travels, I had fallen asleep at the place I was staying, when I awoke I was unsure of how much time had passed, since I didn’t want to miss your arrival. I felt like I had slept for years.” I internally cringe at how easily the lies roll off my tongue but I need to ensure I stay with this group.    

Winters pauses thinking about my explanation. He looks towards Bull as if trying to read his mind, they share a glance as I watch them. I catch my bottom lip between my teeth chewing on it nervously. 

“Well Emily we do need more medics. Have you been trained?” Winters turns back to me raising his eyebrows as he speaks. 

“Yes, well no technically. I am in my last semester of training, I only have a couple of months left.” I say. 

Winters brows draw together. “I guess that’s good enough, we are desperate.” he sighs, leaning back in his chair.  

“But you haven’t been trained in combat?” He continues. 

“No, Sir. I am medically trained but have not been on the frontline. I understand not all medics carry a firearm, and are just there to help the wounded.” I answer. 

“That’s correct. Well I cannot prepare you for what you are going to see on the frontline, and you understand Emily that you could also die on the front. There is no guarantee for your survival.” His strong stare pins me to the ground, I gulp. I have seen war movies, most of which I had to watch through my hands. I hated seeing the men being blown to pieces and shot down. 

But this wasn’t a movie. I couldn’t watch through my hands, I was here on the front fighting against the Nazis. The thought hadn’t sunk in. How much danger my life was currently in, like Winters said there is no guarantee for my life. But what is my life? Is this it? Stuck here in 1944? Or when the war is over, if I make it through, do I find another portal? Is there another portal? It’s strange to think how quickly it all got turned upside down, this isn’t a dream, I’m stuck in a time where I do not belong.  

I pull myself from my spiralling mind. “I understand Sir.” I say firmly, holding my ground, making my words as believable as I can. 

Winters stands a small smile spread across his face, he reaches his hand out to me, “Welcome to Easy Company Emily Lane.” I take his hand gripping firmly with a single shake he releases me. 

“Bull, get Miss Lane here some proper attire and supplies.” Winters turns to look at Bull who is already nodding and making his way out of the tent. I follow Bull as he holds the tent flap up for me to walk under. I follow him from behind, having to take double steps for his every one, he grabs things from piles, rummaging through bags, he turns holding up a shirt measuring it to my body. 

“Seems you’ll fit the small.” He says, a new cigar is hanging from his teeth. I follow him as he grabs things and passes them back to me, by the time we are done I can hardly see where I am going. “Oof” I grunt walking into something hard. 

“Hey, watch it tiny.” A man says in a thick philly accent. 

“Oh I’m sorry.” I say peeking out from behind the mountain of gear in my arms.     

“Aye, who are you?” he squints trying to get a better look at me in the dark. 

The group of men that stand around with him also pique interest, five pairs of eyes land on me. 

“Are you lost?” The man I bumped into speaks again. 

“No, not lost.” I say, staring back at him. 

“She’s our new medic.” Bull speaks from behind me. “Are these boys hassling you Lane?” He leans forward but says it loud enough for the group to hear. 

I look over my shoulder at him and smile. “No, they aren’t giving me any trouble, but I think I could take them if I wanted.” Bull lets out a laugh, patting me on my back. 

“You’re going to be trouble Lane, I can already tell.” He chuckles. “How about I introduce you to these men before you try and fight them all?” I smile up at him. 

“This right here is Bill Guarnere,” he points to the man I walked into. “And that is John Martin, but everyone calls him Johnny.” Martin raises his hand giving a small wave, I smile back politely. “And that there is Joseph Liebgott, George Luz, Webster and Donald Malarkey.” Small hello’s and hi are said as they are introduced. They all look basically the same in the dark in the same uniforms, and I have no hope I am going to remember anyone's names. 

“Hi I’m Emily Lane, but everyone calls me Emmy.” I say semi waving my hand from under the pile of clothes I am holding. 

“Emmy, what on earth are you doing here?” the man who I believe to be George Luz says smiling. 

“Well I heard you needed medics so, here I am.” I let out an awkward laugh. “I better go get changed, but I guess I will see you around?” I cringe, when was it hard to talk to a group of men? 

Luz chuckles, “I’m sure we will Emmy.” a cheeky grin forms on his face. I don’t know what that smile means but I move quickly to find somewhere to get changed. I feel the men watch me as I go, I hear them fall back into conversation once I am out of view. 

I turn around looking for a place to change, in front of me a field spans out with trees in the distance, behind me the men have made camp and are lying in the grass, huddling around in groups talking. I turn in a circle, trying to find the best spot. There are trucks parked on the grass but men sit in them as well.

“Emily.” Someone calls from behind me, I whip around to see a tall man standing in the shadows, I glance down at his arm a white band on his sleeve shows the red cross, the sign for medic.

“You must be Doc?” I say moving closer to him.  

“I am indeed, I have your medic pack here. Bull told me to give it to you.” He hands over the army green bag with the red cross mark on the front. I take it trying not to drop the clothes I am holding. 

“Thank you, Doc.” I say. 

“Call me Gene.” I nod at his response, “Do you know what is in this bag?” he asks.

“I think so? A powder that stops infections, gauze, scissors, Tourniquet, medical tags, safety pins, tweezers?” I say off the top of my head, I actually have no idea what could be used in the 40's. I am so used to modern medicine, they would have no gloves, no alcohol swabs to disinfect gear.

“That’s about right, but I will let you have a look through by yourself if you have any questions come ask me.” he says turning to leave. 

“Ok, thank you Doc. Sorry Gene.” I say loudly as he walks away. 

“Miss Lane.” I hear from the other side, OMG now what. I turn to see Winters poking his head from the tent. I straighten, this man seems to be in charge here. I can't piss him off. 

“Yes, Sir.” I make my way over to the tent. 

“Emily, are you wanting to change?” he motions his head to the armful of clothing I am carrying.

“Yes please Sir, I couldn’t find anywhere private.” I shuffle forward and into the tent. Winters steps out, closing the flap behind him. I move quickly putting the clothes down on the table, I start by taking off my shoes and socks. Then shimmy my pants down, kicking them to the side. I empty the pocket of my uniform top, my hand grips something cold. I pull it out to inspect it. My mouth drops. No goddamn way! I clutch my phone in my hand, letting out a strangled gasp. 

“Everything ok Emily?” Winters asks from outside the tent. Oh fuck! I thought he left, he’s probably making sure that no one comes in while I change. 

I clear my throat, “fine.” my voice cracks, “I’m fine.” I say in a clearer voice. OMG, OMG, OMG I mouth. How the hell did I not lose this. I tap the screen and almost shriek, it lights up. The time and date have not changed from when I was back in my own time. I open the screen, no bars. Well I would be more surprised if I did get reception. 87% battery, I need to keep this on me, I mean if I go back to my own time I don’t want to have to buy another phone. I power down my phone and place it on the table. I search through my pockets, pairs of medical gloves, I place them down next to the phone. I pull more from my pockets: pens, pencil, a mask, hand sanitiser, omg I could kiss myself for always having the most full pockets. The last thing I pull out is a small black case, I open my earphones to find them sitting in their charging ports, the green light flashes. God I am good, they’re fully charged. But unfortunately I am unsure how long they will last as I can’t power them down like my phone. I place them down on the table as well. I take my name badge and pin on watch off my top as well. 

I quickly get changed into the uniform given to me, leaving on my bra and underwear I slip into the pants doing the belt on the tightest loop so they don’t fall down and a white cotton t-shirt, I pull on my black thick socks and combat boots. The boots are a bit big but if I wear a couple pairs of socks they should be fine. I button up the long sleeve shirt, pulling on my jacket. I tuck the helmet under my arm and the medic kit is slung across my body. I gather the items from my pockets and slip them into my kit for safe keeping. 

“Almost done in there?” Winters asks from outside. 

“Yes Sir.” I reply, the tent flap opens as he walks back in. Winters scans me from head to toe, a small smirk forms on his lips. 

“You forgot one thing.” Winters reaches into his pocket pulling out the red cross band. He gestures for my arm. I reach out my right arm, he steps forward and slides the band up, I look down at him watching him intently. Winters eyes meet mine, I look away quickly embarrassed I was caught staring. Winters laughs softly pulling safety pins from his pocket pinning the band to my sleeve, as he pins the last one I gasp. He looks up worried, scanning my face, “Got you.” I smile, his face cracks into a smile. “Indeed you did.” 

He finishes pinning the band taking a step back to admire his work, I feel my face flush shy from being scrutinised by him. 

“Well now you look the part.” He steps forward again, taking my helmet from under my arm. He gently places it on my head. “You always wear this, you got it?” I nod the helmet falling in front of my eyes from the movement. He chuckles, pushing it back up.  

“Well I think you should show me how good your skills are.” Winters crosses his arms in front of him. 

“My skills?” I am confused. 

“I have a wound on my left leg, ricochet bullet. Gene was going to come dress it but you’re here now.” He sits as he talks, pulling up his pant leg for me to see the wound. I kneel down in front of him to better look at the wound, the lighting in the tent is poor but it will have to do. I pull gear from my medic bag, gauze and a fresh bandage. I pull down his sock to see the affected area better. The bandage on his leg is dirty, blood has seeped through the previous dressing. I look up at him as he watches me. 

“You should be keeping off this, no?” I ask, wondering what the other medic had told him. 

“I mean I can’t really, these men rely on me.” he sighs, he looks tired. I cannot imagine what this man has seen, his face looks young but his eyes hold scarring memories that he will never be able to unsee. 

I remove the bandage on his leg, the wound appears small, and the wound bed appears to be granulating and no slough seems to be present. There appears to be no sign of infection, I press the back of my hand over the area to feel if it is hot to the touch, which it isn’t. There is no sign of erythema around it and the edges are actively healing; they pucker up due to the trauma of the ricocheted bullet entering the skin. 

I feel Winters’ eyes on me as I assess the injury. “Do you have water?” I ask looking around. 

Winters pulls a canteen from his belt, handing it to me. I tip the water from the canteen onto a couple of pieces of gauze. Then pouring the water onto the open wound, “ah.” Winters gasps flinching. 

“Sorry.” I say continuing with my task, I clean the injury itself and around it, to help stop bacteria from entering the wound. I pat the skin dry, I apply the new clean dressing tying it around his leg to secure it. I sit back on my haunches looking up at Winters, he smiles seemingly impressed with my work.          

“So what’s the verdict nurse?” he tilts his head as he asks the question. 

“No sign of infection, which is good. Should be healed soon. It would heal faster if you didn’t walk on it so often but I can compromise with you on that. How about when you have time, you elevate your legs, to help reduce the swelling.” I say gathering my supplies and tighten the lid back onto the canteen before handing it back to him. 

“Well I guess I can do that for you.” he says, taking the canteen from my hands. I stand making my way to the exit. 

“Goodnight Captain Winters.” I say. 

“Dick.” he replies.

“Where?” I exclaim. 

The man looks confused, I stare at him eyes wide. My hand lifts to point at him. 

“Yo..” I mumble. 

“Me.” He says pointing at himself. 

My eyes are big as saucers at this point, what is this man asking me?

“Right now?” I ramble.

“What?” his face scrunches in confusion. I mean he’s cute, but like I just met him. I reach my hands up to my top button undoing one. 

“I mean I guess.” I say slowly unbuttoning my top, unsure if this is the request he just made. 

“Emily what are you doing?” He seems genuinely concerned.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” I stop unbuttoning, I think I have read this situation very wrong. 

“My name is Dick, Richard Winters.” He states.

My mouth falls open and my cheeks become hot, I’m sure my whole face has turned the darkest shade of red. 

“Dick short for Richard.” I gape, the cogs in my brain finally turning. 

“Your name is Dick.” I half shout, covering my mouth. I hastily do up my buttons. I am so dumb what is wrong with me, I could hit myself. 

“Well… ah… goodnight Dick” I mumble hurrying out the tent. The cool breeze brings relief to my hot face, I fan myself trying to catch my breath. I need to find somewhere to sleep or hide, I need the ground to swallow me whole, that's what I need.   

I rush back to the group of men most of which are sleeping, I see Bull’s larger figure sitting quietly talking to others. I make my way to him, carefully stepping over the men sprawled on the floor. I sit next to Bull. He appears to be my comfort, not that I know him well but from the interactions I have had with him he seems to be a kind person. He smiles down at me when I seat myself next to him.

“Saw you in Winters’ tent, everything ok?” he asks, leaning closer for me to hear him. 

“Yeah, yup, oh yeah, fine I’m fine, so good, grand even, yup everything is a-ok” I ramble quickly looking back at the tent I just ran from, cringing at how the interaction ended. I wanted to curl up and die. 

“Ahh, are you ok?” Bull frowns in confusion, tilting his head to get a better look at my face that I ducked down out of view. 

“Yes, yup.” I reply, popping the p at the end of my sentence. 

“Alright, get some rest.” Bull says, lending me the blanket from his legs, I slip under it next to him relishing his heat. Exhaustion pulls at my eyes, even on the cold hard ground my body yearns to rest. Bull moves next to me coming closer so our bodies are almost pressed together, I rest my head on my medic bag, as the world around me fades.

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! WTH TWENTY CHAPTERS! I can’t believe it!

Just want to thank everyone who has liked, rebloged, commented or just reads! I love and appreciate each and everyone of y'all x

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: i dont think there are any... maybe swearing?

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter twenty: Call Her Bluff

The entire event of the previous night played in her mind on a loop. She hadn’t slept much, instead choosing to lie awake in her bed reminiscing about the time spent stargazing with Joe. 

They had laid there on the scratchy blanket until after lights out, then the pair were forced to sneak back to Bernadette’s barracks without being caught. Plus Joe had to repeat the whole sneaking around schtick to get to his own barracks. 

Now that the idea of crushing on the Californian man had been brought to the forefront of her mind, it was all Birdie could think of.

At first she disagreed, Joe was mean to her: why would she like someone who calls her names? But then she remembered how fast her heart was beating when he told her she belonged. His comment had sat with her for weeks, echoing in her head constantly. Her own flesh and blood hadn’t believed in her and yet Joe did. Maybe a crush wasn’t that far fetched. 

“Well someone’s happy this morning!” Charlotte commented, watching Birdie as she skipped from one side of her cot to the other, tucking in the crisp white sheet as she went. 

“Yeah, considering you came back so late.” Lucy smirked, all the girls had an inkling as to why the Mississippi born lady was so chipper. They had bets on which guy had captured her attention, little did they know it was not the obvious choice: Joe Toye.

“Sorry, Mother. I’ll make sure to be home ‘fore curfew.” Bernadette played along, teasingly rolling her eyes towards the Fox company woman. 

“So…?” Blythe bounced on her bed, waiting to hear what tales the previous night held.

“So what?” She played dumb, continuing to flatten out her bedsheets and fluff her pillows. Even Connie, who didn’t typically approve of gossip had scooted closer, intrigued and curious. 

“Who’s the guy?” Charlotte burst, she couldn’t take much more of the coy bullshit, she just wanted to be privy to the latest discussion.

“Please tell us!” Blythe added, begging the southern woman to just rip the band aid off.  

“There’s no guy. Not like that by any means, fraternising is against the rules, ya know?” She wasn’t really sure how to explain a schoolgirl crush, especially one she wasn’t even sure was requited. 

“But if it wasn’t, you would’ve?” Lucy waggled her eyebrows at her suggestively. She understood the implication and of course her cheeks tinted pink, the thought got her bashful. Birdie had to reign in her thoughts before they ran wild. She didn’t know if Joe even thought of her like that, so there was no point in fantasizing about something that had no chance to come to fruition.

“…no…” Birdie mumbled the word, fidgeting with the hem of her ODs and biting her bottom lip to try to hide a smile. Despite her attempt at checking herself, the imagery of how soft Joe’s lips might feel on her own would not vacate her mind. 

“Never play poker, Bernadette Coldwell. You can’t bluff for shit.” Lucy laughed, shaking her head. 

—-----------------

Yet another failed practice manoeuvre led by Captain Sobel had Easy company in despair. The afternoon mood had plummeted meaning not much chit-chat at the lunch table. 

It was a Friday and Birdie still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell her friends about her upcoming birthday, it wasn’t really a good time, especially with this morning's loss.

Plus she and most of the company had their weekend passes taken away because Sobel was having a tough week. It was dejecting to say the least, so when several letters and a parcel arrived for her mid meal, she perked up. 

The package was from her family, as were most of the letters. Some came from highschool friends and neighbours, mentioning some video on TV that she had apparently appeared in, enticing young women to sign up and do their part for the country. 

“What is it? Your birthday?” George had joked, but as he thought about the statement he began to realise he had known Birdie for close to a year and was yet to celebrate her birthday. His face went serious, smile dropped, “Is it?” 

“Almost.” The southerner winked at her brown eyed friend while tucking away a letter she had finished reading. 

“What? Why didn’t you say anything? When is it? What day?” George spat out all at once, hardly leaving space to inhale. 

“Breathe Luz!” Birdie laughed.

“Not until you tell me when!” He puffed up his cheeks and scrunched his eyes closed, holding in his breath. His face coloured a light shade of pink that slowly got darker. 

“Don’t you dare say anything, Little Bird.” Guarnere grinned, holding a hand out to stop her girl from intervening. George held on for as long as he could but ended up bursting and spluttering within thirty seconds. 

“I almost died! You have to tell me now?” The radioman was leaning so far over the table he may as well have been on top of it. 

Liebgott had emptied his tray and was walking past Birdie’s table toward the dining hall door when he overheard George yelling at the girl and couldn’t help himself. 

“Tell you what?” He chimed in, curious to hear the girl speak. She smiled at him but before she could say anything, Luz butted in, “Birdie’s birthday is soon but she won't say when.”

“Well if you gave me a second…” She paused, giving her overactive buddy a look, “You’d know it's on Sunday.”

“What?! That's so soon! Give us some warning, lady! I don't even have a gift or-”

“Luz! Calm down.” Birdie couldn't help but giggle at his antics, “Your presence is gift enough.” It was cheesy but she meant it. She didn’t want gifts from anyone or special treatment. She missed home and her family and she knew any gifts she received would be tainted with the homesick feeling that grew in her chest day by day. 

“I’d get a refund if I were you.” Toye jested, he smirked at George, then flicked him a quick wink so the man knew he was kidding. 

“Hey!” George exclaimed, slightly offended by the comment. He began explaining to Toye and Guarnere how amazing he was and how truly blessed they were to know him. 

“Sunday, huh?” Lieb leaned closer to the almost birthday girl, lowering his voice so only the two could participate in this conversation.

“Hmm? Oh… yeah. Sunday.” She had been watching Luz go off on her two closest friends but her attention was pulled to him and now she couldn't tear it away. She noticed the deeper tone he used with her and how he wanted her undivided focus, Birdie had to force herself not to blush. 

“Ask me when my birthday is.” His voice was barely a whisper. Was he doing that on purpose? 

“When’s your birthday, Joe?” Birdie whispered back, looking up at him as he leaned on the table. She blinked her eyes waiting for his answer.

“Monday.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. They basically shared a birthday! A grin broke out on her face and she squealed, “No way! Really?!” This gained the awareness of the three men next to her.

“Uh… hey, what the hell is going on?” Toye said, astonished at the behaviour change between the two who typically only fought and called out names at each other.

“What?” Birdie tilted her head at him, pretending not to know why Toye had questioned them. She knew exactly why he was confused but she couldn’t say anything, lest she embarrass herself.

“You two are… talking?” Bill spoke, just as astounded as the man next to him. Bill and Toye were arguably Birdie’s closest friends and they had no idea her and Lieb were suddenly on good terms; it shook both men to their core. They thought Birdie hated that man but here they were chatting like old mates. 

“Yeah?” Lieb tilted his head too, feigning confusion. Toye noted the mimicked mannerism, he would surely be interrogating Birdie later. 

“Not yelling…” Bill was still in the dark, genuinely befuddled, “Or trying to kill each other?” 

George smiled and kept quiet for once, he knew exactly what was going on here, and he had good money on the pair hooking up before the end of the year. It looked like he would be winning said bet the way things were going.

“Didn’t you hate him last week?” Bill went on, trying to figure out what had transpired, “Yeah, the words you used were: Hate him with the fire of a thousand suns.”

“Poetic.” Liebgott nodded at the woman, his signature smirk plastered on his features. She was getting flustered and he loved it, watching her squirm. 

“Oh yeah, I remember that.” Penkala chimed in, overhearing the discussion from down the table, “Didn’t you ask Johnny to smother him in his sleep?” 

Liebgott’s eyebrows raised, he looked at the woman and awaited her answer. He knew it was all in good fun but he couldn’t give up the chance to tease her, in good nature this time.

“I decline to comment.” 

—-----------

Since Easy didn’t have weekend passes, that Sunday was spent doing extra PT Sobel had assigned them. He didn’t hold back, really tiring them out with laps of the field and multiple combat sessions. They even had a designated hour of digging foxholes with their entrenching tool. 

What a birthday.

The women didn't have to have escorts every second of every day anymore, the rules had eased up, but Birdie felt better when someone stood guard while she showered and Johnny wouldn't let her anywhere near the showers by herself. So after the day of taxing physical activity, Johnny found Birdie and walked her to the women's bathroom.

On the way out, Birdie slumped over, exhausted and ready to pass out. She was yet to have dinner but honestly she could do without for tonight, she just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. Besides, the mess hall was closing in five minutes, so it looked like she’d run out of time anyway. 

Johnny walked next to her in perfect step as the two made their way to Bernadette's sleeping quarters. When they would typically go left, Johnny stepped right. It confused Birdie, she had to stop walking and take stock of where they were. Was she so tired that she forgot her way to her own barracks? 

“One quick stop first.” Johnny explained, detecting her hesitance. She didn’t argue, just groaned and nodded, following the man without question.

“Here.” Martin gestured to the three wooden steps leading up to a building identical to her own barracks. If her mind wasn’t foggy she would have recognised it but her brain was declining to function properly so she just hopped up the steps silently.

Birdie watched Johnny reach out for the door handle and hold it open for her like a gentleman. From inside Birdie heard ‘shushes’ and then nothing. How very suspicious. Had she been at full thinking capacity she might have understood the situation more clearly. 

“Surprise!” A chorus of baritone voices called out to her. Birdie jumped, unexpecting the loud announcement. 

The faces of just about every Easy company man stuffed into the small barracks building registered and Bernadette broke out into a grin. She looked back at Johnny who was amused, standing with his arms crossed and mouthed to him “For me?” He nodded at the young girl and she all but threw herself in his direction. He flung his arms out just in time to catch her in a bone crushing hug. 

“Thank you.” The southerner whispered to him while wrapped in his arms. Someone cleared their throat from behind her and she turned to face them.

“Um… where’s my hug? I planned this whole thing.” George stated, matter of factly.

“You did?” She spoke with a high pitched voice, wobbling with emotion. George nodded, “Thank you!” The woman embraced him with little hesitation, sniffling into his shoulder. She was tired and missing home and this act of kindness had broken her, joyful tears welled up in her eyes. 

“Hey, are you crying?” Luz tried to pull away from her to see if she was sobbing but she refused to let go of him, holding on more tightly.

“Shut up and hug me, Luz.” He chuckled and put his arms back around her, squeezing slightly. 

A few of the men had wished her a happy birthday and left for their own barracks, leaving her closer friends to host a little soiree. A deck of cards was dealt out and Toye was determined to show Birdie how to play poker. She decided not to tell him she had learnt the gambling game from her older brothers and allowed him to ‘teach’ her the rules. 

Birdie purposefully lost the first few games, then begged Toye to let her play on her own. He was reluctant and when she suggested putting money on the game he outright refused. But she puppy dog eyed him and used the excuse of it being her birthday and he caved.  

Bernadette played against Toye, Guarnere, Bull, Liebgott and Perconte while Chuck Grant was designated dealer. Stakes were getting high, they were betting smokes and Hershey's bars and the pool was an enormous mountain of tobacco and chocolate. Toye, Bill and Perco were confident Birdie had bad cards or didn’t understand them so they kept upping the bet, Bull was just along for the ride, calling cause he had nothing better to do. 

When it came to Lieb’s turn to place a bet, he looked at his cards secretly, then to the cards in the middle. He took a second to watch the faces of the men and the one woman playing along with him, he was good at reading body language and something about the look Birdie gave him told him he should sit this one out. He raised his brow at her, a silent question. She tilted her head ever so slightly, her muted answer. He folded. 

Cards were shown and Bernadette had swindled nearly sixty cigarettes and eight bars of chocolate out of her friends. She laughed as she pulled her winnings towards her, “Thank you boys! I won't have to buy smokes for a week!” She gloated, enjoying the looks on the men's faces. Toye showed devastation, had that really just happened?

“You minx! Why didn’t you tell me you could play poker?” Toye gaped at her, seriously what the hell had happened just now? She only laughed, eyes twinkling. She unwrapped a Hershey's before answering him, “First rule of poker: Play your opponent, not the game.” Birdie winked, biting into her hard earned bar of cocoa.

A/N: I think it's funny how the women have a bet on Birdie crushing on someone and its even funnier that Easy does too

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter twenty and a half

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

When You Know, You Know - Ronald Speirs x OC

Summary: A night of drinking with Valerie and the men leads Ron to realise that he's in much deeper than he thought

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption/intoxication

Word count: 2.8k

Tags (Mostly using the taglist from the original fic): @50svibes @cagzzz107 @yentroucnagol @mads-weasley @mrsalwayswrite @dcyllom

A/N: This oneshot is building on from the characters/storyline established in my fic Just Come Home, which you can read in its entirety here. For those of you who have read it already, this is set roughly between chapters 5 and 6. Enjoy!

I can't even tell if this is good, I just needed to write for them again, I miss them so much

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I win again!"

"God dammit!" George Luz cried, throwing down his hand of cards upon the table as Valerie laughed, taking a sip of her drink and revelling in his distress. Easy Company had been in Berchtesgaden for almost a week, and already boredom was beginning to set in, remedied seemingly only by late nights of drinking, card games, and music which they had begun to host almost daily in the huge abandoned hotel at the end of the main street.

The huge dining hall was bathed in a low, golden glow, a refuge from the darkness outside, and a gramophone crackled away in the corner, playing record after record of German music only a few among them could understand. A few portraits of prominent officials hung on the walls - survivors of the initial scourge which had seen the men clear out anything of value - their faces vandalised beyond recognition, drooping unevenly on their hooks. The large, circular tables that had once hosted wealthy guests to the town were now used for rowdy games of all kinds, stacks of empty glasses growing taller by the hour.

It had been almost two hours since Valerie had found herself dragged into one of these games. The men had clearly thought her light competition, but in those two hours, not one of them had won a single round. As the night wore on, and she continued to prevail, they grew only more determined to continue, to find a hole in her strategy to exploit, to finally beat her, for God's sake.

"I mean, Jesus, I just don't understand it," Tab sighed, frowning as he poured himself another glass of whiskey, staring wearily at his own hand in the realisation that he never could have won. "How can you win every goddamn time?"

Val chuckled, patting him on the arm in consolation. "I think it might be time to call it a night, eh gents?"

Luz shook his head. "No. Nuh-uh. We're not leaving until I win."

"You better be careful you don't run outta money first."

Tutting, he reached into his pocket for some more cash. "You better donate this shit to a charity or something when you get home, God knows you don't fucking need it," He lamented, muttering something to himself about big fucking houses and rich fucking parents.

With a grin, she accepted her winnings, sliding the money into the pocket of the coat she draped over the back of her chair. It was not her own coat - none of Valerie's clothes were her own, all of them pilfered from the abandoned closets of rich German wives, fleeing in a hurry with their rich Nazi husbands. But in the grand scheme of things, she hardly felt guilty. "Pleasure doing business with ya, Georgie." Val teased, her tongue drawn between her teeth.

A wide archway separated the main dining room from the smaller, private hall next door - a more intimate space for what had once been the wealthiest of hotel guests, but which now belonged to the officers of Easy Company, a huge central table proving the perfect place for late night games of poker.

Ron stared at the unimpressive cards in his hand, suppressing a frown, his infamous stony gaze playing in his favour once again. He would not win this game, but as long as Harry continued to play as badly as he had so far, he would not lose either. The sound of laughter in the next room pulled his gaze - and there she was. Valerie's face flushed red as she laughed, her cheeks creased as she tilted her head back, George Luz chuckling beside her at whatever he had said that was so damn funny. He wasn't sure he had ever made her laugh like that - but Ron knew he wasn't a funny guy, not like Luz at least. A few months ago, he might have felt the inkling of insecurity bubbling in his chest, but not now. Despite all the things that made him seem so intimidating to the other men, it seemed Ron was stuck with Valerie whether he liked it or not.

He did.

The sound of someone noisily clearing their throat pulled his attention away from the next room, and as Ron looked across the table, he noticed Nixon staring straight at him, brow raised. "Hm?" He asked, mirroring his expression.

"You gonna take your turn?" Nixon asked. "Or you gonna keep staring?"

Ron decided not to acknowledge this second question, instead swiftly taking his turn, placing his cards down forcefully, as if making a performance out of it. He wasn't staring. Just... watching.

In the corner of the dining hall, the record that had been playing stopped with a crackle, and Valerie stood up to change it, sliding her cards into her pocket to prevent Luz from cheating. The man scoffed at the mere suggestion, but they both knew he wasn't above taking a peek. As she neared the gramophone in the corner, Chuck Grant came passing the other way, their shoulders brushing against each other as he headed back to his own table. "Ooh, Val," He spoke, stepping up behind her as she flicked through the box of records. "You gotta try this."

Looking up, she accepted the glass in his hand, stifling a cough after her first sip as the liquid burned her throat. "Oh, fucking Christ, what is that?"

"No idea. Malark's recipe - good though, right?"

"Good, but I think it'll kill me," Val confessed, flicking through the box of records with her free hand.

"That's the spirit," He chuckled, patting her on the shoulder before turning to return to his table. "Drink up."

She grinned as he left, taking another sip of Malarkey's dangerous concoction before selecting a record. Their titles had all been in German, so Valerie had been forced to make a decision based off of the covers alone, and as such was slightly taken aback when upbeat folk music came blasting through the gramophone's horn, although the men around her seemed too engrossed in their games to even notice.

Returning to the table, interrupting Luz and Tab as they talked strategy, she put down her drink, taking a seat. "What's that?" George asked, nodding towards her glass.

"No idea. Malarkey's makin' 'em over there apparently."

He paused momentarily, slowly sliding his cards into his pocket as if Val actually needed to cheat to win. "...Don't mind if I do."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Just over an hour had passed since the last time Ron had looked over at Valerie - Harry had lost their last game, predictably, and the officers had been darting between conversation and cards ever since, the energy slowly draining from the room as the night wore on and they began to find it harder to focus on the more technical games. The group had noticed the main dining hall growing steadily louder as the night progressed, but the disturbance had not been enough to warrant their attention until suddenly a smash rang out, accompanied by a series of whoops and laughter.

Craning his neck to see what was happening, Ron's gaze fell upon the portrait of Hitler that Valerie had taken a knife to on their first day in town, his face now stained with dark red wine, a few shards of glass embedded in the canvas. Still seated at her table, Val let out a hearty laugh, her cheeks flushed bright red as if she had caught a chill. But he knew it wasn't that.

Of the men of Easy Company still occupying the hall, not a single one of them appeared sober, the scent of alcohol lingering on the very air. Sitting across the table from Valerie, it appeared George Luz had actually fallen asleep, suddenly roused by the sound of the wine bottle exploding into hundreds of fragments the moment it struck the wall.

"Aw, shit," Nixon sighed. "Looks like they found the good stuff."

Across the room, Skinny Sisk tripped on the edge of a tablecloth that had been left dragging across the floor, tumbling to the ground in a mass of flailing limbs. Val let out a guffaw of laughter, clapping her hands in delight as she slumped further in her seat, reaching for another sip of whatever the hell was in her glass.

"Alright, ok," Ron muttered, rising from his seat and crossing the room in a moment, prying the drink from her hand before it could reach her lips. Val opened her mouth in objection, brow drawn with outrage, but the sudden appearance of the infamous Captain Speirs seemed to sober up the rest of the room, the other men taking the hint to calm themselves and begin shuffling out the door to return to their billets and sleep off their drunkenness.

"I wasn't done with that, yunno," She drawled, barely noticing as Luz drifted away from the table, rubbing at his temples in an attempt to nurse an already developing headache.

"Yeah, you're not gonna be, either," Raising the glass, Ron took a sniff, expression twisting into a grimace. "Jesus. How many of these did you have?"

"I... do not know."

"Hey, Speirs?" Harry called from the next room, clearly impatient to get back to their game.

"Uh, yeah - deal me out, ok? See you fellas tomorrow," He nodded, placing a gentle hand on Valerie's arm to help her to her feet. She swayed slightly, but could certainly walk, and as Ron helped her to the door, he emptied her glass into an unused ice bucket as they passed.

She probably could have made it back up to her room entirely unscathed, even the wobble in her step ebbing away as they exited into the night air, but Ron wasn't sure he'd be able to live with himself if he let her go anywhere alone. "I'm not plastered by the way - I've been plastered, this ain't that."

"Whatever you say," He breathed, arm still secure around her as they descended the front steps to the hotel.

"I'm serious."

"I believe you, dear," Ron nodded, and a giddy grin made its way across her face at the term of endearment. It had slipped out before he could stop it, and he was suddenly grateful for the minuscule chance that she would remember it the next day - he did not in fact believe her.

It was quiet out on the street, the men who had scattered returning promptly to their nearby billets, turning Berchtesgaden back into the ghost town it had been when they had found it. The street lamps cast puddles of golden light as they passed beneath them, his gaze momentarily wandering to Val's face. Her hair had come loose, a strand hanging limply in her face, and the tip of her nose flushed pink in the cool air. Without a word, Ron shrugged off his jacket, slinging it over her shoulders. She did not hesitate to slide her arms into the sleeves, wrapping the jacket tightly around herself, and playing it off as a yawn when she took a deep breath, smelling the scent of his cigarettes that permeated the fabric.

They were mere feet from the front door when Ron felt Valerie slide from his grip, turning to watch as she took a seat on a nearby bench, one foot tucked behind the other, hands in her lap as she looked up at the night sky above.

"Almost there, c'mon," He urged, gesturing for her to follow.

"Come sit down."

Ron didn't move, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Val, come on, you'll catch a cold out here, let's get you insi-"

"Just sit down, Ronald!" Val demanded, almost laughing. She always seemed so ceaselessly amused by him - he wouldn't pretend not to enjoy it, but it struck him as odd sometimes.

Folding his hands awkwardly in his lap, Ron took a seat beside her on the bench, a polite gap left between them. It couldn't have been more than a couple of inches, but it might as well have been a mile for how tempted he felt to move closer.

Her gaze had not shifted from the sky above since the moment he sat down, and after a while spent sitting in silence, he allowed himself to do the same, peering up at the stars above. There was a full moon out that night, hanging like a beacon above them, never quite allowing the town to fall into total darkness as it bathed the ground below in its glow. It was quite marvellous, really.

As weight pressed down on his shoulder, Ron felt his breath catch in his throat, so desperate was he to preserve the serenity of this moment as Valerie leant over, resting her head against him. He scarcely dared more, for fear that he would shrug her off - it was almost comical, the battle-hardened Captain Speirs, who ran past half a dozen tanks at Foy twice over without fear, suddenly paralysed at the prospect of pushing her away.

"Our families are looking at the same moon back home," Valerie said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Ron's jacket as she turned her chin into the collar. "I like thinkin' about that." When she spoke it sounded drowsy, exhaustion tugging downwards at her eyelids.

"C'mon," He urged again, matching her softness. "You can't sleep out here, you'll freeze to death."

Val nodded slowly, her hair catching on his shirt. "That'd be very inconvenient for you."

"Out the the two of us, I don't think I'm the one getting the short end of the stick in this scenario, Val."

"Ah, but you'd miss me," She sighed with a dramatic flourish of her hand, pushing herself up from the bench with a grunt. Ron had not had the chance to stand up himself before Valerie started walking, the sway in her step settled as she confidently made her way down the street.

"You're going the wrong way, dear," He pointed out, gesturing to the front door, mere feet away from them.

"I know that," Val rolled her eyes, turning sharply on her heel and marching up to the front step as he chuckled. Taking the step up, she looked back at him. "C'mere," She ordered.

"What do you want now?" Ron teased, already moving to do her bidding. Taking a step up to stand beside her, they faced each other, shoulders pressed against the front door to the house they were billeted in. Leaning forward, Val pressed her body flat against his, her chin resting on his chest, face tilted up towards him. He could feel her breath, escaping through parted lips and fanning his neck as he peered down at her. Their faces were mere inches apart, and oh, how he had wanted to give in at that moment - give in to the months they had spent together, growing ever more enamoured by her with each passing day. Putting her weight on her toes, she began to push herself up towards him, their lips barely parted, so close their noses brushed against each other.

She was drunk. Ron knew this - could see it in her flushed cheeks, could hear it in her slow words. It would not happen like this. Placing soft hands to either side of her face, he held her back as gently, as tenderly as he could, his thumb skirting across the soft flesh of her cheek as Valerie eased herself back onto her heels, her eyes like dark pools under the light of the street lamp, as wide as he had ever seen them.

"Goodnight Cap'n," Her voice was scarcely a whisper as her hand found the door handle, opening it onto the great foyer inside, the heels of her shoes clacking against the floorboards as she trailed inside. Ron would follow soon - would climb the stairs to his own room along the hall from her own - but for now, he held back, watching on as Val headed upstairs, his jacket still hanging off her back as she disappeared down the hall, the sound of humming trailing after her even after she was gone from sight, fading away with the sound of a closing door. It wasn't until now, when Ron was alone in the foyer, did he realise he was smiling - beaming even. It was very... un-ron-like. But she had wanted to kiss him.

He had done the right thing. He knew this.

But Jesus Christ, was he in deeper than he thought.

[trashbag-baby666]

Willow-Webgott

Hello, @educationalporpoises !!! I’m your secret Santa!! I had a lot of fun writing this!! A lot of fun!! So I really hope you like it!!! I had to split it into two parts because I really bit off a lot with the plot! But please enjoy!!!

Summary: David got his dream part in the art schools production of The Nutcracker. Now he just has to face the taunting of his mother and his dance rival Stephanie Sobel. But Joes there to support him and get him through it all.

WC: 4,017

C/W: topics of eating disorders and body dysmorphia. Some NSFW jokes.

BofB Masterlist!

All dances mentioned can be found on this YouTube playlist I made!

"I got the part!" Web ran over to Lieb as he came out of his last ballet class of the day where Lieb always came and watched the end of practice because he had a study hall.

"Oh Liebling!" Web jumped into his boyfriend's arms hugging him tight.

Web had been working so hard since he started ballet as a kid. Then he moved to the Toccoa art school and found out about their art school.

The ballet program had been good to him and accommodated him wanting to audition for a technical ‘girls’ part.

"I'm gonna be the Sugar Plum Fairy!" Web smiled, holding his boyfriend's hands tight as he smiled. He had always wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy. But he didn't know if they would cast him because he was a boy, but they did!

Web originally had auditioned for the Nutcracker himself but the Sugar Plum Fairy was the most challenging and biggest part and he had got it.

"Congrats!" George smiled as he walked over, also getting out of class, "I'm the Rat King."

"But you're going to be the best one you earned it" Web congratulated him.

"Hey guys," Daisy came out of her contemporary dance class. She jogged over to the group seeing the excitement, "Did you guys get the Nutcracker parts?"

"I'm gonna be the Sugar Plum Fairy!" Web smiled even bigger.

"Congratulations!" Daisy hugged Web. She knew how hard Web had worked for this part, especially after the dance board at the school said Web could do a 'girls' part.

"George, is going to be the rat king." Web smirked, he was excited.

Every year around the beginning of fall whatever studio he was dancing at always had auditions for The Nutcracker show.

He had heard all the hype surrounding the school's Nutcracker show when he had moved there in the spring.

“Really!?” Daisy looked at her twin and hugged him, “You’re going to do great, both of you. But who got the parts of Clara?”

“Renee,” George hummed, “She deserves it.”

Web thought that there was nothing that could ruin his day after finding out that he had gotten his dream part.

But David’s parents surely knew how to ruin a good moment. He had texted his parents during lunch that he’d be home late since he had a private after school with his ballet teacher.

So, of course when Web came home it was terrible.

Web sifted through the mail toeing off his shoes at the door. “I’m home,” Web trailed off at the end. His parents sat at the table waiting for him to get back.

“David Kenyon, where have you been?” His mother scolded him.

“I texted you guys earlier that I had a private.” Web set the mail on the kitchen table.

“This is unacceptable, we didn't get it. We're having the Smiths over for dinner so go and clean up; Although, you should be watching your figure with the Nutcracker coming up.” His mother crossed her arms looking up and down at him.

Web looked down and just nodded. Web took in a sharp breath as he walked up the steps then went into his room. Slugging his backpack and his dance bag off next to his desk. He opened his closet door looking in the mirror tugging off his hoodie then his shirt. David stood in the mirror looking at his body. Joe said he was too skinny, His mom said differently.

He sighed as he looked in the mirror observing his stomach. His mother made sure that David would never feel comfortable in his body.

Since when his mother first signed him up for ballet he had been skipping meals and counting calories. The dance world was a toxic place, truly David loved what he did but he didn’t know how much longer he could take the constant body critique.

He remembers the first time Joe saw him naked so vividly.

Web was straddled over Joe's lap as he took off his shirt and felt Joe's eyes on him instantly.

He was toned nonetheless from years of intense dance training but you could also see his ribs.

He knew his body was boney and always wondered why Joe was trying to get in his pants.

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Joe sat up as he saw Web's figure and his eyes began to well up with hot tears.

“I’m sorry.” Web got off of the bed and went into his bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“No, no. Liebling.” Joe got up and came to the other side of the bathroom door, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…I just really care about you and I think you’re beautiful.”

Joe had known Web for maybe a month but he saw how his mom would berate him for the tiniest of mistakes. How hard she pushed him to be the best and to have the most elegant body.

But instead Web wouldn’t eat, if he did he’d count his calories or he’d have his fingers down his throat trying to make himself throw it up.

Web stood in his bathroom crying as he looked at himself in the mirror. He thought he was so ugly and couldn’t blame Joe for being so repulsed by him. “It’s okay if you wanna leave.” David stared at the closed door waiting for Joe to say something.

“I don’t wanna leave, Web.” Joe stood by the door, he could hear Webs muffled crying, “Why don’t you come out and we can talk about it? We don’t gotta talk about it too, I just wanna know you’re okay.”

Web sighed and grabbed a shirt from the hamper in the bathroom and pulled it on over his bare chest. He unlocked the door and opened it, not meeting Joe’s gaze.

“I think you’re beautiful and I mean it David.” Joe said softly.

“I don’t feel it,” Web sniffed, wiping his tears away and hugged him.

“Then let me convince you,” Joe wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

Web stood in the dance studio at the barre as the ballet class went on.

“You are the Primas of this school, there should be nothing sloppy about your extensions.” Ms. Mai, the ballet teacher droned on.

“Just look at Mr. Webster, for example. Everyone stop and look at him.” She instructed. Web felt himself suck in subconsciously as everyone's eyes were on him.

There was no secret in the studio that Web was obviously the best ballerina at the school. Some of the girls envied him, especially Stephanie Sobel.

She had made sure Web was miserable every chance she got. She at one point had taken David’s pointe shoes out of his bag so that he couldn’t dance.

“Go ahead and run the combination,” Ms. Mai nodded as Web took in a sharp breath as he ran the warm up combo hitting all of the checkpoints for his legs and his feet pointed to perfection. The class clapped for him as he stood there awkwardly. He could feel Stephanie's eyes burning into him. She had been pissed that Web had gotten the Sugar Plum Fairy part. She was then casted as his understudy.

“I’m scared she's going to axe me in the back everytime I’m in class.” Web shook his head. Web sat at the Speirs family kitchen island as Daisy made a snack and George was working on his homework.

“She’s so scary, everytime I look at her it looks like she’s snarling at me.” George looked up from his laptop. David was grateful that George was also in his ballet classes. He then had someone to stand next to and rely on as an ally in the ongoing war of ballet at Toccoa High.

“I just don’t understand why she takes it so seriously,” Daisy shrugged leaning against the island, “Like yeah it’s a good leg up if she wants to go into the professional world. But her getting the part in a fucking High School production of The Nutcracker isn’t going to make or break her career.”

“Well, you should go tell her that. Then she’ll put a knife in your back instead of mine.” Web rolled his eyes playfully.

“I’d love too then I can kick her ass and maybe she can shut her big fucking mouth.” Daisy grabbed out a juice box and aggressively set it on the counter.

“Maybe you can beat up Herbert too while you’re at it. Two siblings with one stone.” George had been getting harassed by him since they moved here a year ago. The Sobel twins were twins from hell where George and Daisy were the good ones.

“I second that, you and Joe both can arrange a time to fight them and do that.” Web chuckled as he looked back down at the paper he had been trying to write for the last week.

“I can’t get it on,” Web was in one of the bathroom stalls as they were trying on their costumes after they were altered.

“What do you mean you can’t get it on you just tried it on last week?” George stood in the stall next to him trying on the mouse king costume.

“George I can’t get it on,” Web repeated. He was panicking as he was trying to get it pulled up further then his hips.

“Here let me come help,” George came out of the stall and Web opened the stall door. Web turned to see George in the mouse costume and tried his hardest not to laugh at him, “You’re laughing now but when I have to put the mouse head on you’re going to pay for it.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Web tried his best to sound serious as he tried to hide the growing smile on his face. Completely forgetting the dilemma on hand of the leotard not fitting.

“Then why’re you smiling?” George raised an eyebrow before grabbing part of Web's costume and trying to help him get it on.

“It’s fine I’ll just go tell Ms. Mai that I need it altered again.” Web sighed looking at George. The shorter boy with dark brown hair looked back at him. George ran his teeth over his lip nervously.

“I wish I could help you more, I’m sorry.” George sighed.

“It’s fine, just don’t let Stephanie see.” Web rolled his eyes as he shut the stall door and changed back into his clothes.

Web came out of the bathroom holding the garment bag that the leotard and tutu were in. “Mrs Mai!” Web rushed over seeing his teacher.

“Oh yes Mr. Webster I’ve been looking for you. You and Ms. Sobels' costumes got switched.” Ms Mai smiled, taking the garment bag from him and waving for him to follow. She walked over to where Stephanie and her friends were standing, “Here’s the right one now.”

“Thank you,” Web took the bag from Ms. Mai.

“Yeah this one was huge on me, you probably couldn’t fit into mine.” Stephanie smirked looking at Web. He felt the words go straight to his head like a white hot blade being twisted and stabbed into him.

He just turned on his heels and hurried back into the men’s bathroom before the tears could start falling.

Joe had no idea what he had walked into when he came upstairs. from plating some food for the two after his dad’s were done making dinner.

Web was standing in Joe's room shirtless looking at himself.

“Woah? Do you wanna eat first or is it fine if it gets a little cold while we go a few rounds?” Joe smirked only half joking. Then David looked at him and could see he was tearing up.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” David turned to look at the other boy. He had felt ugly and uncomfortable all day.

“What? No. David, who said that to you?” Lieb set the two plates of food down on his desk.

“No one,” Web sniffed, rubbing his eyes free of the ever growing tears. Joe knew he was lying, but now wasn’t the time to press.

Joe came over and wrapped him in his tight embrace. Web rested his head on his shoulder as he let out a broken sob.

“Let’s sit down, yeah?” Joe led Web over to his bed sitting them down. Web curled into Joe as he couldn’t stop the tears.

He just wished he felt normal.

He had had an eating disorder since he hit puberty.

He hated doing ballet.

He wanted to quit.

“Can I tell you something? But please don't get mad at me.” David tried wiping his tears away but they were never ending.

“I wouldn’t ever be mad at you,” Joe rested his hand on Webs thigh.

“I want to quit ballet.”

Web found himself in class again going over his dance again and again, Stephanie behind him practicing.

“Mr. Webster, don’t make me remind you again.” Ms. Mai narrowed her gaze at him as Web knew he had missed a step. He Had felt off since he and Joe had the conversation of him quitting.

“Here, why don’t you watch Ms. Sobel, do it once.” Ms. Mai motioned for him to come stand next to her. The few steps from where he was dancing to standing next to her. Felt like a walk of shame. He could feel the smirk on Stephanie's face and could hear all her snide remarks going off in his head.

Ms. Mai motioned to the other student to play the music as Stephanie performed the dance perfectly. Just the way that David would’ve a week ago before he even spoke his thoughts of quitting.

When she was finished Web clapped for her just because he felt forced to by the teacher.

“I think if you give me another chance I could perform it just as well.” David spoke up.

“Okay,” Ms. Mai had Stephanie and David switch places. Stephanie was sure enough to give him a dirty look as they switched.

Web took a deep breath and took the opening position of the dance. As the music began to play, Web could feel the eyes of the other ballet classes watching him. As they got dismissed from their classes.

He could feel the next eight counts coming, the one he kept forgetting.

He could feel his heart beating in his ears as the music played and he could feel the counts coming. But he didn’t miss it. He smiled to himself as he knew he had done it and finished the dance. He took his ending pose and smiled as the other students began clapping.

“Very good, Mr. Webster.” Ms. Mai smiled, clapping for him.

It was opening night, Web had fought tooth and nail. Blood, sweat, and tears. And mostly Stephanie to get here.

“Are you excited?” George buzzed as he came over to where Web was doing his makeup.

David truly didn’t know if he was excited. One hand he was excited to finally perform what he had been fighting for since September. The other hand he knew if he messed up not only Stephanie would taunt and bully him. But his mother would too.

“A little bit,” Web looked up from his eyeshadow pallet. The entire friend group was here too including Joe. So that meant he had to perform his best.

“Well Ma and Pa will be cheering for you. Pa probably will anyway while you’re dancing. 20 some years in the military and going on 15 years of me and Daisy dancing. Man still doesn’t know ballet etiquette." George giggled showing off his crooked teeth, “he will be leaning over to the poor soul sitting next to him and go. ‘That’s my son and daughter's best friend.”

Web smiled a bit, George always knew how to make anyone feel better. During their showcase last year when David was nervous to do his solo. George stood in the wings with him before he went on. Doing the best impressions of all their friends he could do. Without the two of them disrupting the whole show with their laughter.

“You’re going to do great, I just know it. You’ve been working way harder than anyone else. You deserve this and you earned it.” George gave him a hug.

“Thank you, you’re going to kill it out there as the mouse king.” Web snickered, motioning to the mouse costume head sitting in the chair next to his.

“Don’t talk about Jaq like that!” George covered the ears of the head.

“You named him?” Web stopped applying the eyeshadow and turned to look at the other boy.

“Yeah, I’ve spent a lot of time with him this semester.” George winked, “Don’t tell Joe.”

“You’re gross,” Web laughed, throwing his mascara tube at him jokingly.

“Yeah, next time you and Joe come over don’t leave your used condom in the bathroom.” George snickered.

“Oh? Did Joe not suck your dick on my kitchen island?” Web gasped jokingly.

“Mr. Speirs we’re starting soon and I need everyone in act one to come to the wings.” Ms. Mai poked her head in the dressing room where George and Web were still in there, “Mr. Webster when you’re done you should go run your dance in the hallway.”

“See you later, I’ll come find you when I’m done.” George grabbed the mouse head and followed Ms. Mai out the door.

Web finished his makeup and put on his pointe shoes then grabbed his phone and water bottle.

He hadn’t been running his dance for very long when he saw Sobel walking down the hallway. George paused the music and awkwardly stood by the wall picking up his phone and water bottle. He awkwardly started checking his texts hoping Sobel would just leave him alone and he was going to the bathroom.

He wasn’t sure which came first…he suddenly felt himself being pushed into the wall and Sobel stomping down onto his ankle. Then he heard the snapping as he collapsed onto the hard floor. He heard himself let out a shriek as he grabbed his ankle.

“This is kinda weird,” Joe whispered to Daisy as the dance of Clara and The Nutcracker went on.

“I know, every year I get to watch this weird ballet. I was in it when I was younger actually.” Daisy snickered quietly.

“Really?” Joe smirked as the two bowed their heads to talk to each other.

“Yup, I played one of the kids at the christmas party then one of the mice in the battle.” Daisy nodded.

“Wow,” Lieb joked, elbowing her lightly. Then he felt his phone vibrate, he turned it over and saw a text from Web.

Web<3: Come out into the hall. Please.

Joe showed Daisy the text and Lieb shrugged, getting up out of the end row seat and going out into the hallway and around the corner. Then he saw the scene, David crying, sitting against the wall, and holding his left ankle.

“Jesus, fuck.” Lieb said as he got down on his knees, “What happened, meine liebe?”

“Fucking, Sobel.” Web yelped out as Lieb gently removed Web's grasp.

“I’m going to text Daisy to get Gene, but why don't we take off your shoes and tights. Yeah?” Lieb asked as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and texted her.

David adjusted against the wall as Joe gently took Webs ankle untying and unwrapping the ribbons.

“Ow, ow.” Web sniffed as Joe gently took off the pointe shoe.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, Web. We’re almost done.” Joe gently rubbed Web's thigh supportingly to try and distract him from where he had to reposition his ankle.

“I gotta cut open your tights.” Lieb sighed and grabbed the pocket knife he most certainly shouldn’t have had.

“I know,” Web sniffed. Joe gently cut the seam on the toe and helped him slide it up.

Both cringed as the dark bruised, swollen ankle became apparent.

“Fuck,” Joe muttered and looked up to see Gene and Daisy running down the hall.

“What happened?” Daisy asked as Gene bent down and began inspecting Webs ankle.

“Sobel fuckin’ happened,” Lieb looked at Daisy and he saw the red heads eyes turn red metaphorically as she balled her fist.

“Daisy, I need you to go to the back of the theater where there are paramedics. But also get his parents.” Gene instructed her.

“I’m gonna kill that mother fucker.” Lieb snarled.

“No, stay here.” Web grabbed Joe's hand as Gene held it on his lap to elevate his ankle.

Web was embarrassed as he rode him in the passenger seat of Joe's beat up, old car. His ankle was broken and he had no idea how to respond.

When his doctor told him he wouldn’t be dancing for at least two months the panic set in. His mother just narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

“I’m sorry this happened to you…you don’t deserve that at all. I promise you I’m gonna make sure he fucking knows who he’s fucking with.” Joe said increasingly more aggressively. Before his steering wheel in anger.

“It’s okay, I don’t want you getting in trouble.” Web shook his head.

Stephanie would now take over his part in the Nutcracker for the following weeks till Christmas.

“He deserves to be expelled.” Joe brewed as he drove them back to the Webster house.

Joe carried Web up the steps and down to his bedroom. Setting the other boy down on his bed. “What clothes do you want?” Lieb asked as he set down Webs backpack down.

“Just a shirt and some boxers.” Web sighed and shrugged. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He wouldn’t be allowed to dance for two months. Then he’d have to re-build up the muscles in his feet to dance on pointe.

But at the same time he was almost glad that he couldn’t dance for two months.

He was excited to get to take some time off. He was questioning whether he wanted to stay in ballet and now he had time to make the right choice.

“I’ll go get you some ice when we’re done.” Joe came over and kissed Webs cheek, “Ich liebe dich.”

“Ich liebe dich auch.” David tried to ignore the pain as Joe helped him change out of his joggers and took his boot off him.

He was feeling lucky when Joe came back with an ice pack wrapped in a towel.

“Okay,” Joe checked the pillows that his ankle was propped on and then gently set the ice on his ankle.

“Thank you,” David blushed a deep red. He watched as Joe changed then climbed in next to him.

“I love you, I’m sure you would’ve done an amazing job. I know you would have. You’re the only person I really like to watch Dance. Don’t tell Daisy.” Lieb chuckled. Web smirked and giggled a bit.

“I know I would’ve done it better than Stephanie performed it” Joe took off his shirt and grabbed his phone. He checked her

Instagram page and showed the video to David. She missed some steps and her foot was sickled.

“I love you,” Web gently turned off Liebs phone and kissed his cheek.

“Can’t believe this,” David’s mom shook her head, pacing in the kitchen. Since Joe left and Web was just trying to have breakfast she started nagging him.

“You should’ve stood up for yourself, now look.” She motioned to the boot on David’s ankle.

“I know,” Web sat at the table awkwardly spinning his cereal around in the pool.

“You better be watching what you’re eating if you’re going to not be active for awhile.” She pointed her spoon at the cereal he was eating, “Have some yogurt tomorrow instead.”

“What does it matter?” Web mumbled staring down into the cereal bowl.

“Excuse me? What did you just say to me, David?” His mother snapped at him.

“I said I’m quitting ballet.” David snapped, slapping the table.

Pt Two coming soon…

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

Masterlist

American Horror Story

AU!AHS multi-chapter

War meets Death - Michael Langdon x O/C Female **Currently on pause

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Band of Brothers

Drunken Confessions - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader (1st person POV, male and female) one-shot, fluff

Green Dress - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader (1st person POV, female) one-shot *smut*

Pen pal's - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader one-shot, fluff/slight angst

Truth or dare - Joe Toye x F!Reader (1st person POV, female) one-shot

The game continues - Joe Toye x F!Reader, Truth or dare pt 2, (1st person POV, female) one-shot *smut*

That final line - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader one-shot *smut*, fluff & angst

Oil and water - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader (1st person POV, female) requested one-shot *smut*, angst/fluff ending

Body heat - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader (1st person POV, female) requested one-shot, *smut*

In her arms - George Luz x F!Reader requested one-shot, angst/fluff ending

Leverage

New Hope - Eliot x Reader one-shot/drabble

[phyllisthefirst]

No tired sigh, no rolling eye, no irony - Masterlist

George Luz x OC

Summary: Phyllis Baker is with the 506th to do her job, nothing more, nothing less. But between men like her superior officers, who don't believe she should be there at all, and men like George Luz, who keeps distracting her with those damn puppy eyes of his, that might be easier said than done.

Warnings: Depictions of war, mentions of injury and death.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

or read it on ao3

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 4: The First Night

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen to Easy Company the night of their Fall?

Words: 3,502

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Author's Note: Hi everyone! Hope y'all are having good days so far~ Also, I want to let you know that I'm open to writing Bonus Content for the series! If there's a particular scene you'd like to be written in more detail, or any specific headcanons, please don't be afraid to let me know! As always thank you a million times over for all the support and I love you all dearly!! 💖

Once at home, the boys all filed out of their makeshift clown cars, Chrys retrieving the black duffel bag she put the men’s things in from the trunk. “I’ll keep these in my room till y’all need them,” Chrys said.

Speirs, Guarnere, and Toye all started to protest, before captain Winters put a stop to it. “Men, we can clearly see that the atmosphere around weapons is different in 2023, I don’t like it either, but we need to follow our hosts on this one,” he explained to his men. The men grumbled but agreed with their CO.

“Alright y’all! Have we got everyone?” Zay asked, her “mom friend” instincts kicking in - she always had an instinct to take care of and protect everyone around her, maybe that is why she went into nursing.

Speirs performed a silent headcount before responding, “Yeah we have everyone, lead the way!” Zay smiled in gratitude at Speirs, turning on her heel before her bouncy saunter could be seen leading the pack. Chrys hung back to talk with Toye, probably about what kind of guns they have - it was a bit of a hobby for her. No one but Winters saw the subtle glare Nixon tossed at Joe after he started chatting with Chrys. Finally, he had something to fire back at Lew the next time the intelligence officer said something about Zay. Everybody, focused on their own conversations, missed Speirs pulling something out of his pocket. Ron inspected the colorful pens he had swiped from the receptionist’s desk, “Sharpie Premium Highlighters” displayed along their sides. Speirs had never seen pens with these colors before, so of course, he needed to have them.

Before they knew it, the group was at the elevator. While this was a larger elevator and could fit all twelve of them, they were once again squished like sardines. While Zay wound up being squished against the back wall with Liebgott, Chrys was squished towards the middle, Nixon on one side, Toye on another. Now, it was Winters’ turn to sit back and enjoy the show. Nixon immediately began to strike up a conversation, causing Toye to return the glare Nixon cast his way earlier. Dick let out a silent chuckle, unaware of the similar situation happening behind him. Joe Liebgott, feeling confident, subtly slung his arm around Zay’s shoulder.

“Sorry, doll, it’s just so crowded in here,” he said in a quiet voice, a smirk evident on his lips. Zay simply snickered and rolled her eyes, letting Joe keep his arm around her. If looks could kill, Luz and Roe would have been accused of friendly fire. They were towards the front of the elevator, turned to the side to help fit everyone in. They were glaring at Liebgott, who simply returned to them a smug smile. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Zay moved from beside Joe to the front and led the pack on their way, unaware of the situations around her.

As the group filed out of the enclosed space, Roe made sure to wait for Liebgott, “It’S jUsT sO CrOwDeD iN hErE.” He mocked him with a low voice, ensuring Zay didn't hear.

"Hey, I'm the one that got to put my arm around her," Liebgott replied to the medic. The self-satisfied soldier continued walking ahead with the group, while Roe was fuming internally, praying it did not show up on his face. Meanwhile, Zay led the group down the hallway to a door that read 553. The door opened to reveal a modest but comfy apartment. There was a combined kitchen/living area, with the kitchen to the right of the front door. In front of the group was a coffee table with a full size couch against the wall. Flanking the couch was a loveseat and an armchair, framing the coffee table on their respective sides. Directly across from the couch was the entertainment stand, the boys trying to process all the electronics they have never seen before. Across the room was a sliding glass door that led out to the apartment's balcony. To the right of the TV was a small hallway with a door on the left, on the right, and at the end.

"Welcome to casa del Bennett!" Zay cheered as everyone filed into the apartment - there was an eclectic feel to the furniture and decorations. It was easy to see that Zay and Chrys collaborated on the decor, neither of them losing their styles to the other. The decor was a mix of bright, cheerful artwork and trinkets, with posters and models of cars mixed in all around, a perfect blend for the sisters. “Make yourselves at home!” Zay stood beside the kitchen as the boys took a look around, Chrys making her way back to her room, opening the door on the right side of the small hall and disappearing behind it.

“This is a nice place you’ve got!” Luz said, plopping down on the couch in the living area. Toye and Guarnere politely sat down on the loveseat, while the rest of Easy Company gathered to stand in the living area rather awkwardly.

Zay smiled and locked the door, a nervous habit, before walking off down the hallway. “Y’all get comfy, I’m gonna change my clothes really quick.” With her signature bounce, Zay went into the door on the left of the hallway. Easy Company was left to fend for themselves, at least for a few minutes. Roe helped Malarkey sit in the armchair, while the medic opted to sit beside Luz on the couch, close to Malarkey if he needed anything. Bull rested on an arm of the loveseat, while Liebgott took the last seat on the couch, securing Luz in the middle. Winters and Nixon stood off to the side, next to the loveseat, and Speirs rested on an arm of the couch, beside Roe.

“What do you think all that is?” Malarkey asked, motioning to the entertainment center. While someone from 2023 would recognize the twins’ internet router, PS4, Nintendo Switch, and bluetooth speaker as common electronics, the boys had absolutely no idea what they were looking at. As if on cue, the two sisters returned to the group, both having changed their clothes. Chrys was wearing a black sweatshirt with an Alfa Romeo logo the boys did not recognize on the front with a pair of plaid pj pants. Zay opted for an oversized, navy blue t-shirt with the band Queen’s logo on the front, though once again, unrecognized by Easy Company. The shock displayed on the men’s faces came from the fact that Zay seemed not to be wearing anything on her lower half. While Chrys sat on the ground, close to Guarnere and Toye, Zay stood confused at the boys.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, concern thick in her words.

“Um… I think you… forgot something in your room,” Luz mumbled out, bright red and trying his best not to stare at Zay’s legs.

“Hm?” Zay followed Luz’s eyes to the point of confusion. “Oh!” She let out a small giggle, slightly lifter her shirt to reveal her bright yellow pajama shorts. “This is the style for pajama shorts in 2023, helps to keep cool at night,” she explained, opting to sit on the floor - she wound up sitting at the feet of Richard Winters, merely intending to sit beside Chrys. Winters could not help but blush, seeing her so close to him. “How’re y’all feeling?” Zay questioned the group in earnest, looking at the men.

There was a brief pause, as well as a few glances around from the men, before Guarnere spoke up, “Still kinda shocked, I guess… it’s still so weird that this is all happening.”

“To be honest, I’m worried about our other guys,” Liebgott chimed in, his arms crossed and his leg bouncing anxiously. “There’s no way to tell them where we are, and we’re not there if they need us.” Joe said all this while staring at the floor, his jaw clenched. The rest of the men nodded in agreement - the soldiers relied on each other, especially in the winter wasteland of Bastogne. Knowing that they were so far away from the rest of their men hurt their hearts in more ways than they thought possible.

Zay and Chrys listened closely to the group. “I’m sorry y’all have to go through this, I can’t imagine the pain and anxiety you’re feeling right now,” the blue-haired girl said after a beat. “I wish I had answers to your questions, but I can assure y’all, Chrys and I will do everything in our power to help you get back to your men. For now, y’all have had a really long day, and you need to be at your best to-”

Zay was cut off by what sounded like the mating call of the humpback whale. All heads turned to the source of the sound - Nixon’s stomach. Lewis let out a small laugh before speaking, “I sure hope you still eat dinner in 2023.”

“Nope, eating as a concept stopped in the 1990s,” Chrys replied, her face and tone deadpan. There was a beat of silence, the boys unsure whether or not the woman was joking, before Chrys let out a snicker. Zay and Chrys began to descend into laughter, followed by the rest of the boys. The group continued to discuss dinner, Zay explaining the concept of Door Dash to the soldiers. Swears, confusion, and laughter abounded throughout the technology education.

“So we can really get anything we want? And they’ll just deliver it?” Malarkey asked, wonder in his eyes. Zay smiled and nodded her head. Malarkey looked at the boys before exclaiming, “We could get actual pasta!”

“Are you kidding? We could get warm juicy American burgers!” Luz retorted.

“Hey what about Chinese food? That shit’s delicious,” Toye argued back. The group descended into bickering, sounding like child siblings in their tones.

“Men!” Winters scolded, causing everyone to fall silent and turn their attention to their captain. Dick looked down at Zay, “We’ll take whatever you recommend.” Dick had a polite smile on his face, imitating Luz as he tried everything not to look at Zay’s bare legs. The girl looked back up into Dick’s green eyes, a blush rising on her cheeks, as well as a thankful smile.

“How about some fast food?” Chrys offered, “McDonald’s usually has something everyone likes.”

“Sounds perfect!” Zay replied before going to Door Dash on her phone. After what felt like forever while the twins explained the options for food to the boys and take their orders, Zay pressed the “Complete Purchase” button. “Alright! The food will be here in a little bit. In the meantime, would y’all like anything to drink? We have water and soda, but also beer, wine, and some other stuff.” Zay explained with a mischievous grin - she saw how the men loved to drink on the show, save for Winters, and was excited to relax and have fun with them. A chorus of intrigued “ooh”s and whoops came from the men of Easy Company as Zay stood up to go to the kitchen. After getting everyone’s drink orders, Zay headed to the kitchen, not noticing Dick following her.

“Thought you might want some help carrying everything,” he said more bashfully than intended when Zay noticed him. Zay returned his smile as they reached the tile of the kitchen area.

“That’s really sweet of you, Captain Winters,” she responded, blushing as she looked up at the man in front of her. Her mind could not help but wonder, what would he do if he knew how big of a crush she had on him?

Dick laughed quietly and smiled at the girl, his blush matching hers. “Please, call me Dick.” Zay’s smile widened as she shifted her gaze to her feet, praying futily that he did not notice her blush growing. “Doc was right earlier, you know, it is really kind of you to take us into your home like this,” Dick mused, grateful for the girl in front of him. Her eyes immediately returned to meet his gaze with a smile.

“Oh it’s nothing, really! Chrys and I have people over all the time, so it’s no trouble, I promise.” Zay went to the fridge as she spoke, starting to take out the bottles that were requested - a coke for Dick, red wine for Zay, Speirs, and Roe, and beers for the rest of the group. Once Zay had organized the eight bottles and three glasses, she bent down to grab her serving tray from the cupboard. Dick wanted to avert his eyes, he wanted to be polite, be a gentleman, but alas, he was entranced. The captain was just barely able to turn his head away before Zay returned to the drinks, acrylic serving tray in hand. Once Zay put everything on the tray, Winters was quick to pick it up, Zay shooting him a Look. “Thank you,” Zay said reluctantly, trying and failing to hide her smile. Dick simply nodded before following her out of the kitchen.

The night continued to devolve into drunken, chaotic fun, with laughter and Chicken McNuggets abounding. Soon everyone was burping and hiccuping with inebriation, of course save for Winters. “You guys wanna play truth or dare?” Chrys asked with a smirk as Zay clumsily emptied the group’s third bottle of wine into her glass, splashing a couple drops onto the carpet.

“Yeah! Let’s use the bottle to pick!” Guarnere said, gently plucking the bottle from Zay’s hand. The twelve made a circle on the floor, pushing the coffee table flush with the sofa. Zay wound up sitting between Winters and Roe, while Chrys was between Nixon and Bull. “Who wants to go first?” Guarnere asked, placing the bottle on its side in the center of the circle.

“I will!” Chrys volunteered, spinning the bottle. As Chrys leaned forward, shifting her weight to her knees, Nixon could not help but be floored by the dark-haired woman in front of him - she seemed so genuine, so down to earth, he needed her in his life. The bottle spun and spun before landing on, of course, Captain Nixon. A chorus of “ooh”s and chuckles erupted from the group as Chrys asked, “Captain, truth or dare?”

Nixon smirked and looked at the girl, heavily relying on his liquid courage. “Dare, doll,” he replied. Chrys, hiding her blush, smiled and walked to the kitchen, returning with a fresh bottle of beer.

“I dare you,” she paused as she used the bottle opener, “to drink this entire beer in 10 seconds.” She held the beer out to him, intrigued to see if he could do it.

“Done and done,” he replied casually, immediately starting to down the drink. It may not have been Vat 69, but Nixon still drank the beer like it was the best thing he ever tasted. Before Chrys reached five, Nixon handed her the empty bottle, covering his mouth as he felt the carbonation expel itself. The group laughed at Nixon’s belch but cheered as he spun the bottle in front of him. The bottle slowly came to a stop, pointing itself at Wild Bill Guarnere. “Alright Gonorrhea, truth or dare?”

Bill laughed as he finished off his fourth beer. “Truth, Cap’n.” he said assertively, leaning into the circle. Nixon thought for a minute before asking his question.

“Tell us about the worst kiss you’ve ever had.” the captain asked the staff sergeant. Guarnere thought for a minute before his facial muscles cringed with disgust.

“Suzie Watson at my Senior Prom, we were slow dancing and next thing I knew her tongue was licking my lips,” Bill recalled. The group responded with sounds of ick as Guarnere flicked the bottle. The game continued to bring wild revelations and compromising positions to all in the room. At one point, Luz had spun the bottle, and it landed on captain Dick Winters. “Captain Quaker, sir,” Luz addressed Winters, earning laughs all around him, including from the captain himself, “truth or dare?”

Dick chuckled and shook his head. He debated whether or not to participate when the game began, but when Zay plopped herself next to his feet and looked up at him with the sweetest doe eyes he had ever seen, how could he not? The captain weighed his options, considering which answer is more of a risk. “Truth,” he answered, looking over at George.

“You got a girl waiting for you back home? And if you don’t, are you looking for someone?” Dick could see Zay's head perk up out of the corner of his eye; he could tell her head turned towards him, but he was nervous to meet her gaze.

“Can’t say I have someone waiting at home, but I would like to have a family, someday,” Winters replied quietly, his bashfulness and beet red cheeks warming Zay’s heart. In a moment of wine-fueled impulse, she laid her head on Dick’s shoulder as he spun the bottle. Surprised, Winters looked over at the girl, a content smile on her face as she rested on him. Now it was Winters’ turn to feel his heart warming. The game continued on until about midnight, when a few soldiers allowed themselves to yawn.

“Alright y’all, looks like it’s time to get ready for bed. For where y’all are sleeping, once we put up the air mattress, we can sleep four of you out here, then three in my room and three in Chrys’ room,” Zay explained. She wobbly tried to stand up, resembling a baby giraffe learning how to walk, before losing her balance and falling into Roe’s lap with a squeal. Eugene caught her in one smooth motion, looking at Zay with concern and amusement. “My bad,” the girl said between giggles. No one saw Liebgott and Luz roll their eyes at the scene, save for Winters. Roe helped the girl stand back up while they all discussed sleeping arrangements.

“I can sleep out here,” Speirs spoke up.

“I’ll take the couch,” Bull added.

“I can room with Zay, if you don’t mind,” Eugene looked up at the girl, who smiled and nodded her head.

“Hey! I wanna room with her!” Luz cried out, pushing Roe’s shoulder childishly.

Liebgott somehow got involved in the scrimmage as well, while Zay simply smiled down at the still-sitting Winters. “Would you like to stay in my room?” While she has not revealed the fact they would share a bed yet, Zay certainly preferred the idea of sharing a bed with a gentleman like Winters. Dick smiled and nodded, agreeing to her offer. Zay returned his smile before raising her voice to get the men’s attention. “Y’all! Dick already claimed a spot, so the other two spots go to Roe and Luz.”

Liebgott groaned and rolled his eyes, walking over to the loveseat - his bed for the foreseeable future. While all of the bickering was occurring, Chrys agreed to Nixon, Toye, and Guarnere bunking in her room. “Do you guys want pajamas? Our brother comes to visit us a lot, and he usually leaves his clothes here… his memory isn’t the best,” Chrys told the group, quiet laughter making its way across everyone’s lips. Chrys smiled and made her way back to her room, the rest of the men standing from the floor.

“I’ll go grab the air mattress,” Zay said over her shoulder, bouncing away to her room.

Ron stayed quiet until the twins left. “Sir? What’s the plan for tomorrow?” he asked Winters, everyone suddenly remembering the problems at hand.

Dick thought for a moment before responding, “We’ll go back to where we first arrived and see if we can find anything and go from there. If we don’t get any information, we’ll ask Zay and Chrys for input… maybe even watching the program we’re on could help.” Speirs nodded in understanding as Chrys came back into the room with a laundry basket of t-shirts, pj pants, jeans, and other bits of clothes for the men to use. Once Zay returned with the air mattress, she and Chrys set up their respective pull-out couches in their rooms while the boys changed, the clothes somehow being a good fit for everyone, even Bull.

Once the boys were all decent, Chrys and Zay set up the air mattress in the living room, supplying the four sleeping in said room with a plethora of pillows and blankets. Soon, the men were settled in their respective bunks - Bull on the couch, Liebgott on the loveseat, Malarkey and Speirs on the air mattress, Guarnere and Toye on Chrys’ pull-out couch, Roe and Luz on Zay’s pull-out couch, and finally, Captain Winters and Captain Nixon were, in fact, about to share their beds with Zay and Chrys, respectively. Since there was nowhere else for the boys to sleep, the four of them felt their own versions of excitement, nerves, and every other emotion under the sun.

~~~~~

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike

Thank you again for reading!! Be on the lookout for Chapter 5 coming next week!! 🥰✨

[blueberry-ovaries]

PROLOGUE: THE STORY OF WINIFRED HAYES

A/N: Welcome to the first official chapter of Hiraeth! Please enjoy and feel free to leave comments or questions! If you would like to be tagged in the chapters please let me know!

Content warnings: none

chapter one

When the whispers of war reached her home, Winifred Hayes was just fourteen, a high school student terrified of the looming violence that would hold the men of her home captive. She knew the phenomenon of proving strength and bravery would take prisoner the young minds of boys pretending to be men. Boys playing dress up in a soldiers uniform.

November 1940, the Australian army starts conscription into the war. All able bodied men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five were to join the ranks of the ANZACs. A man from each family to fight with bravery and strength. To bring pride to their families and their nation.

George Hayes, her father, a retired Great War Vet who knew the horrors of war greater than most. On the front lines in Gallipoli, he knew how to fight a hard battle, and to go down swinging. Winnie knew in her heart the if he were to take the call, he wouldn’t come home. His kneecap, shattered by a stray bullet on the sandy hills of the Turkish beaches. His limp a constant reminder to the people, of his sacrifice. To him, it was more than a constant twinge, instead a nagging reminder of his survival. That he was alive, and his friends, his brothers, lay nameless in the sand, forgotten by the progress of time, rotting corpses of failed advancements. Now, he works tirelessly on the family farm, milking cows, cutting wheat. Supplying the family bakery on main street.

Winnie always knew what she thought was right and wrong. In school, she knew that words were not always satisfactory in resolution, that sometimes bloody knuckles and split lips were necessary. After one too many call home letters, her father decided, if she was going to fight, she may as well do it properly. To throw a punch, to fight to win. Fighting to win meant, doing anything she had to, pulling hair, biting skin, Winnie would do what was necessary, no one made fun of her family.

With her older brother unable to fight and her father not likely to come home, Winnie knew.

As she raised the scissors to cut her hair, and stole her brothers name, Winnie knew it was right. She tries not to imagine the tears staining her mother’s cheek when she realises her daughter had signed her own death. She tries not to imagine the fear that wracks through her parents bodies. Her father’s shame for not fighting, instead is daughter, taking his conscription letter, and forcing herself into the role of her brother.

Her parents wake up the next morning, one less child and a fear that if the germans or the japanese didn’t kill her, the army will.

Winnie knew. Her death was sealed if anyone found out who she was. If they found out she was Winifred and not Charles. Still, with her bag slung over her shoulder and her brothers cap slapped atop her shakily cut hair, she took the call

————

TAG LIST: @malarkgirlypop @mads-weasley @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @grumpy-liebgott @executethyself35

[dcyllom]

[victoryrollsandredlips]

I saw a George Luz mention! 👀 What's your favourite thing you've written so far for your George Luz x OC?

HI! Thanks for the ask! @almost-a-class-act, you're my first official inbox question! It was hard to pick a [non-spoiler] favorite, especially because this fic is my baby, my precious. I enjoy every bit of it, but I love the small ways George tries to show my main OC, Laura, how unmistakably proud of her he is. In this tiny scene, she receives a battlefield commission, and George is trying so hard to restrain himself.

~~~

“Second Lieutenant O’Callaghan. Upon recommendation, you are being awarded a battlefield commission to the rank of First Lieutenant.” The Major leaned over and began removing her old bars to be replaced with new ones. It was probably the first time any of his nurses had seen him crack a smile since their arrival at Beachhead Hospital in June. “Congratulations, First Lieutenant O’Callaghan. You should be proud of your accomplishment.”

She could no longer contain her grin. “Thank you, sir.”

The staff of the 32d clapped their congratulations as Laura and the Major exchanged crisp salutes, and the small contingency of 101st paratroopers that had gathered began whooping and hollering from the back of the room. Laura could hear George’s whistles loud and clear above the other cheers.

“That’s my girl!” he shouted; one hand cupped around his mouth.

[Later...]

When she had shook just about every hand of every nurse in the 32nd, Laura finally made it to the back of the room where the paratroopers had gathered.

“Ten-HUT!” George called out, and immediately he and the other men from Easy snapped to attention.

Laura felt her cheeks flush red hot.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Betty observed from across the room.

Laura winced from embarrassment as she gave them a quick, sloppy salute. “George...” she murmured, dropping her chin and her gaze for just a second.

“Don’t go givin’ me that bashful look, Lieutenant. It just might work.”

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Illicit Affairs

This is a slightly different moodboard for my very best friend Julian. Jules honestly I don’t know what I’d do without you. I know you’ve been through a tough time recently but I hope this can bring a smile to your face.

I love these lyrics and I think that it really fits George and my OC Julian from my series ‘Young Love and Old Money.’

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @merriell-allesandro-shelton @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @xxluckystrike