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noneedtoamputate · 13 days

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Flyboys and Flirting

I had a chat with @shoshiwrites earlier this week after seeing this photo of Callum Turner in a turtleneck (thanks @hogans-heroes for doing God's work.) I blame her entirely for my Bucky Egan obsession. Like Ellen, I am not one to like the bad boys, but there is something about him and his character development during Masters of the Air that got to me. I tagged the photo with something like Chuck wouldn't mind Ellen taking of her sunglasses to check Bucky out, and Shoshi said no one deserves to look that good in a turtleneck. Based on our chat, here's a little fun one-off I wrote about Colonel Egan stopping by the tobacco store.

San Francisco

October 1957

Afternoons were usually quiet in the shop, a good chance to catch up on pesky tasks like organizing receipts for the accountant. He called Chuck last week, and Ellen saw the headache start behind Chuck’s eyes. Chuck hated anything to do with taxes.

She decided to get a babysitter for Friday and come into the shop for the day. They’d get everything sorted and then go out for dinner, just the two of them, as a reward for a solid day’s work.

They were in the back room, Chuck at the desk and Ellen perched on the counter next to the sink going over August’s purchases, when the bell above the front door rang.

Chuck sighed and rubbed his temple.

“You keep working. I’ll go out front,” she said as she hopped down, giving his shoulder a squeeze before walking out into the store.

Her eyes widened at what she saw. She forced her mouth to remain closed though her jaw wanted to drop to the floor.

A curly-haired man with a mustache, aviators, and a bomber jacket, looking better in a turtleneck than any man had a right to, stood in front of the high-end cigars. He must have heard her footsteps, because he looked her way, took off the sunglasses, and flashed her a smile, a smile she knew he put on for everyone and had nothing to do with her.

This was a Bad Boy.

Ellen never had gone for the Bad Boys. She’d always liked the honor roll students, the boys next door. She suspected Chuck had gone through a Bad Boy stage, but by the time she met him, he owned the store and shaved every morning and parted his hair just so and was always on time to everything.

Every once in a while, she wondered what it would have been like to be with a Bad Boy, the boy who kept her out past curfew or had a motorcycle or had a mustache that normally didn’t do anything for her but made her hot and bothered.

She congratulated herself on wearing a pencil skirt and heels today instead of her usual shirtwaist dress and flats.

“Can I help you?” she asked calmly as she walked toward him.

“Yes, I think you can,” he said slowly, still smiling. “I should introduce myself. Colonel John Egan, United States Air Force.”

“Ellen Grant, co-owner of this store,” she said, shaking his hand. “Cigars, I see. What flavor are you looking for today?”

“Perhaps you can explain my options,” he said.

Despite whatever game they were in the middle of, she wouldn’t play dumb. She went through what made each cigar different, whether they were flavored with sweet Mexican vanilla or spicy Indian pepper, how each one was rolled slightly differently and had different shapes and filters, affecting their taste.

“Which one is calling you? Sweet or spicy?” she asked coyly, barely believing those words came out of her mouth.

“A little bit of both, I would say.” He lifted his eyebrows just a bit. “Let’s take a box of each.”

They walked over to the counter.

“I just flew into Hamilton Air Force Base last night for meetings. I’m sure my colleagues will enjoy these tonight,” he said.

“I’m sure they will,” Ellen agreed. “Any cigarettes? Luckies or Chesterfields?”

He looked at her quizzically. “Luckies. How did you know?”

She laughed. “It’s my business. But for most officers, it’s one or the other.” She rang up two packs.

They made small talk for a few minutes, about the store and his Pentagon desk job, but mostly about flying.

“You seem to know a lot about planes,” he said. He looked down at her finger, the one with the diamond ring on it. “Is your … co-owner a pilot?”

“Well, he was in planes, but he didn’t fly them. A paratrooper,” she explained.

He looked impressed. “The 82nd?” he asked.

“No!” Ellen almost shouted. “The 101st.”

“Sorry,” John apologized.

“You should be. Those guys in the 82nd were a bunch of amateurs.” She grinned as she handed him the bag.

“Well,” he said, a little deflated at the prospect of leaving, “This has been a delight. Thank you, Mrs. Grant.”

And with that, the spell was over.

“Likewise, Colonel Egan. Enjoy your cigars and the rest of your trip.”

He smiled, nodded, and walked out the door without a second glance.

Ellen turned around to walk into the back room when she saw Chuck, leaning against the wall, arms folded on his chest with an amused look on his face.

“What?” she innocently asked as she walked past him.

“You were flirting with that flyboy,” Chuck pointed out.

“I was not!” Ellen could barely keep a straight face.

Chuck couldn’t, and he laughed out loud. “I heard the whole thing. God, it’s so predictable. All it takes is a pair of fancy sunglasses and a leather jacket and all the girls fall for it.” He shook his head. “Here I was thinking my wife would be better than that.”

“Oh,” she said, closing the gap between them and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Are you jealous?”

“Of that guy?” he asked incredulously. “Please.”

Ellen tilted her head.

“I’m not jealous, but nobody should look that good in a turtleneck,” he conceded.

She playfully hit him on the arm. “That’s what I thought!” she said.

“I’m not jealous,” he said again, grabbing her by her hips. “I’m the one who gets to do taxes with you and go out to dinner with you and go home with you,” He gave her a slow, sultry kiss. “When is the babysitter off duty?” he asked

“Nine o’clock. The kids should be asleep,” she sighed as he found the spot on her collarbone that she liked.

“I hope so.” His hands left her hips and roamed lower. “No, I’m not jealous of that guy who is going to be smoking cigars with the brass tonight while I get to be with you.”

“You know, you can be bad, when you want to be,” Ellen remarked.

“Very bad,” he agreed.

Ellen didn’t want a bad boy. She didn’t want a hotshot pilot with a mustache. But she liked knowing her clean cut, responsible husband who didn’t own a turtleneck could be bad if he wanted to be. That was enough for her.

#chuck grant #ellen thompson #chuck grant x oc #everything beautiful thing #masters of the air #john egan #bucky egan #masters of the air fic #band of brothers fic #turtlenecks #midcentury dads

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bandagesandloveletters · 27 days

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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)

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coco-bean-1218 · 8 months

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Claire and Grant?

ARE YA READY KIDS?!

I'm going to try and do this without any major spoilers:

Somebody play Angel Baby by Troye Sivan

Pre-War and During:

Claire, being the person she is and never having anyone feel that way about her, denies it.

Cue I'm Just Ken

Grant is Kenough

You want eye contact and stolen glances? Well, these two bring plenty of that!

We also have stumbling, stammering when talking, blushing, butterflies, and involuntary standing next to each other

If Claire needs to go run an errand or go work on something, he volunteers himself to go with her, despite her telling multiple times she can handle it

Follows her around like a shadow

If anyone belittles her, discourages her, or doubts her, they immeditely get the look. You know, the one from episode 8.

Will fight someone for each other

Going on walks together in Aldbourne

The locals think that they are a couple

Looking at the stars together on the roof of the house they are billeted at (Tab and Lieb may or may not have done something to get them at the same house)

He is her shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively

She vents to him about everything

Talking about their lives at home

And when she talks about wanting to pursue a career in medicine, it's all heart-eyes for him 😍

You want Tab talking to Grant and Grant just being off in his own little world of Claire, we have that too!

Now, let's say Easy is out on the town on a weekend night, you best believe that he will be searching all over the place for her

He might even get the courage to ask her dance

Next, let's say some random guy is making unwanted advances at her, Grant will round up both his and her friends to scare the guy off and if need be beat his ass.

If they're in a group together, which they usually are because they have mutual friends, and someone makes a joke, they'll look at each other to see if the other is laughing

Easy gets the shit shelled out of them? Grant is on his way to check on her

If one gets wounded, whether in battle or not, the other is like a worried parent constantly hovering

Now, when Claire does finally admit that she is in love with him too, it's like that scene in Clueless when Cher is like "Oh my God! I love Josh!"

Post-War: If they get together, remember there are two other interests to keep in mind

Literally can't live with out each other

Never one without the other

You cannot separate them

You better believe that if Claire wants to stay in Michigan, Grant will pack up all his belongings and start a life with her in her home state in a heart beat

And if she wants to go to California, same thing.

Slow-dancing in their big ass house from that Neurosurgeon money Claire makes

Visits her at work all the time

If she has an early surgery, she always kisses him on the cheek while he’s still sleeping before she leaves

Claire can't cook for shit so Grant does the cooking

If one has a bad day, the other makes tea, specifically chamomile (it’s the calming tea and as someone with anxiety, it does work), or coffee when they get home and they talk about it

If one has a nightmare, the other will stay awake until the nightmare is over ans they can settle down

Always tells each other about their day

And if they have kids? Husband and father of the year awards

Actually would win that every year

Unofficial stay-at-home dad while running the shop

Gets her 2 senior dogs, a golden retriever and a basset hound beagle mix

Always so proud of her for all her accomplishments as a surgeon

Cue the "That's my wife!" meme

This was so fun to write! I love these two so much! This story is really healing.

#ask game #wbwnmh #well behaved women never make history #my first oc story #my oc #band of brothers oc #band of brothers fic #chuck grant #chuck grant x oc

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1waveshortofashipwreck · 1 month

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Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 7: The Boys Back Home

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's most valuable soldiers disappear?

Words: 2,135

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

Author's note: Hey everyone! Apologies for the delay with the chapter lol 🫠 This chapter is the point of view of the men in Bastogne!! Also, because this is my fanfiction and I can do whatever I want, there will be some soldiers who somehow survived their demise in previous episodes (Miller? Dukeman? PERHAPS) Anywho, thank you as always for reading and be on the lookout for Chapter 8! 🥰

"Luz!" Carwood cried over the last shell to drop. He watched the radioman dive into the foxhole - George met the same fate as the nine others who dropped into that hole, none of them came out. Lipton was astonished. At most, a foxhole could fit three of the men comfortably, perhaps four if needed. But ten men in one? Lipton should have seen a dog pile of olive drab stretching above the opening. Instead, he saw an empty hole in the ground. The First Sergeant blinked and rubbed his eyes, making sure what he saw was indeed reality. The foxhole stayed empty when he opened his eyes.

Lipton sprinted from where he was taking cover, desperately searching for Lieutenant Dike. He knew that Dike was the least preferable choice, especially in a situation like this, but the officers Lipton would have preferred to ask for help had disappeared. After an agonizing search mission, Lipton finally found the Lieutenant - Dike was absentmindedly strolling along, looking at the trees around him with a glassy, thousand-yard stare. “Lieutenant Dike!” Lipton called out, scrambling over tree roots and broken branches. Dike snapped back to reality, his posture automatically improving when he saw First Sergeant Lipton.

“What is it, First Sergeant?” Dike asked, trying to be authoritative. The yawn that followed his words worked against him. Carwood began to speak, but his words were caught in his throat… how in the world was he going to tell the lieutenant what just happened?

“Sir… we um…” Lipton tried to force the words out of his mouth.

“Spit it out, First Sergeant Lipton!” Dike ordered, irritation evident in his voice. Lipton paused, taking a breath before responding to the officer.

“Sir… several men are gone…”

“First Sergeant, this is war, we're going to have casualties every day.”

“Not like that sir, I mean… they've disappeared…”

Dike stared blankly at the NCO, wondering if he heard him right.

“Where did they go, Carwood?” Hearing Dike use his first name gave Lipton a feeling he could only describe as ick, but nevertheless, he continued.

“Sir, I saw ten men go into a foxhole, but when I reached them, the foxhole was empty.”

“And you’re sure you went to the right foxhole?” Lipton had to pause and take a breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.” In a flurry of urgency that Lipton had never seen from Dike before, the lieutenant had rounded up Compton, Peacock, Shames, Foley, and Welsh, as well as radioed to Colonel Sink. Lipton hastily repeated his experience to the officers, who were just as hesitant to believe Lipton as Dike was.

“So they’re just… gone?” Harry asked, still skeptical.

“I wish I had more information for you sir, but all I saw was the men go into the foxhole and not come out,” Carwood replied, defeat evident in his voice.

“Shit…” Welsh muttered under his breath. The Irishman stared at the ground in front of him, wondering how he let two of his closest friends just disappear.

“So who all are we missing?” Buck interjected. He stood with his arms crossed, instinctively taking command of the conversation.

“Captains Winters and Nixon, Lieutenant Speirs, and then Roe, Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, Malarkey, and Randleman,” the NCO listed off the men he saw disappear, and prayed he would see again.

What Lipton did not see was Skip Muck quickly scrambling back to his foxhole. He had originally made his way to CP to ask Captain Winters a question, but when he overheard the discussion between Lipton and the officers, panic consumed the soldier’s thoughts. Muck all but fell into Penkala’s foxhole, unaware that he inadvertently elbowed his best friend in the face.

“HEY! What the fuck!?” Penkala yelped in surprise, his hands shooting to his cheek.

“Keep it down, Penk! I gotta tell you something,” Muck hushed the soldier, looking to make sure no one else was around. “I just heard Lipton telling Buck that we lost a bunch of men.”

“Like, to a sniper?”

“No, like they fucking disappeared.” Alex rolled his eyes, figuring Skip was just up to his usual mischief.

“Yeah, and I’m marrying Rita Hayworth.”

“Penk, I’m serious. Winters, Nixon, and a few others are gone and they have no fucking idea where they went.”

“Wait, what’d you say?” Muck and Penkala looked up to see that Shifty Powers had joined them in their foxhole. The rifleman looked at his two friends with shock and concern - how could the soldiers just disappear, especially vital officers like Winters and Nixon?

“He said we’re missing half the fucking company!” Penkala’s voice raised again, becoming more distressed by the minute.

“I said keep it down, you ass-hat!” Skip punctuated his interjection with a sharp whack to the back of Penkala’s head. “Look, we all know Dike isn’t gonna do shit. When Colonel Sink gets here, we need to back Lipton up and make sure Sink knows what’s happening.”

“I can go round up some of the other NCOs and tell them,” Shifty offered, gathering up his rifle to go find the rest of Easy Company’s leaders.

“Alright, we’ll come find you once Sink gets here,” Penkala replied before Shifty set off on his solo mission. Before long, the Virginian had gathered up Alley, Christianson, Grant, Martin, McClung, Perconte, Sisk, Talbert, Popeye, and Smokey Gordon. Of course, the trio of Hashey, Garcia, and Miller wanted to tag along as well - even if they did not have a leadership role, they wanted to help their company however they could.

“I really hope Bull’s okay…” Hashey muttered to no one in particular, crossing his arms to conserve the little warmth he had. “First he went missing in Holland, now we lose him in Bastogne…”

“Yeah, we need to keep a leash on him or something!” Miller snickered to his friends before Babe Heffron bumbled up to the group. The redhead resembled a baby horse learning to gallop as he jumped and weaved past tree roots and foxholes making his way to the group of soldiers.

“The fuck is this I hear about Gaurnere missing!?” Babe’s respirations were loud and labored as he attempted to catch his breath. Before anyone could respond, Lipton came across the group of soldiers all congregated near CP.

“Hey fellas, everyone doing all right?” Carwood asked nervously - he loved his men, but he knew they were up to no good if too many were in one place without a good reason.

“We heard about the men going missing,” Smokey replied, Mississippi accent thick in his words.

“We want to help, Lip, however we can,” Floyd Talbert added. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Smokey glancing a look of concern at his best friend.

Lipton was about to express his gratitude to his company before Colonel Sink’s Jeep was seen pulling up beside the rest of the group. Lipton quickly went to grab the company’s officers as Sink nodded in thanks to his driver and stepped out of the car. With a loud, abrupt command to “Ten-Hut!” from Buck Compton, the gathered men snapped to attention and saluted the colonel, who offered a gentle salute in return.

“At ease men,” Sink instructed before turning to the officers, “I knew it was bad when I was getting a call from Dike.”

Lipton and Welsh needed to bite their cheeks to hide their amused smiles. “We’re not sure what to do, sir, or if anything can be done…” Buck replied to the colonel before taking a step back - the blonde gestured for Lipton to step up, an instruction to inform Sink of their predicament.

“Carwood, tell me exactly what you saw.” The rest of the gathered men leaned in as Sink spoke, anxious to understand what was happening.

“Ten men went into a foxhole while we were getting shelled, sir, but the foxhole was completely empty when I went to check on them afterward. There was absolutely no trace of anyone being in that foxhole, sir, and now we can’t find any of the men I saw go in.”

The older man nodded in understanding, silently processing Lipton’s words. “Who all went in?” The NCO repeated the names from earlier, ending with Captains Winters and Nixon. Sink simply looked down at the snow. “And you have no idea where the hell any of them went…”

“No sir,” Lipton replied quietly.

The colonel simply let out a sigh and shook his head, “I’m sorry boys, but since it was during a shelling and they were last seen going into a foxhole, the higher-ups probably aren’t going to authorize a search party,” he sent a determined look to the men, “I’m going to do everything I can to push the request through, but I better not hear of anyone taking matters into their own hands.” Before getting back into his Jeep, Sink turned to Lieutenant Dike, or rather, where Dike should have been. “And where the hell is Dike?”

“We don’t know, sir, we looked for him before you arrived but didn’t find him,” Welsh chimed in. Sink rubbed his forehead in irritation before turning to Buck and Welsh.

“All right, I’m making this an official order. Lieutenant Compton, if Dike isn’t to be found and a decision needs to be made, your company comes to you. Harry, you’re second in command. You kids do what you think is right. You’re good soldiers with smart heads on your shoulders.” Sink nodded to the officers and saluted the men before getting back in his Jeep and driving back to Regimental HQ - the poor man put his head in his hands, his most trusted officers were gone without a trace, and there was virtually nothing he could do to help them.

As if on cue, Dike returned to the company, “What are we all standing around for? We have a line to protect!” Dike crescendoed his voice to try and be more authoritative, but his efforts fell flat. Eyes rolled and voices groaned as the gathered men all dispersed and returned to their assigned duties - well, all except for Babe, Talbert, Smokey, McClung, Shifty, Alley, Grant, and Popeye. As everyone was trying to leave, Smokey grabbed the sleeve of whoever he could.

“Y’all, this isn’t right, we need to do something,” the machine gunner pleaded in a hushed tone.

“You heard Sink, though, there’s no way they’re gonna authorize a search party,” Moe replied, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Popeye took a beat before he chimed in, “...why do we need to wait for authorization?”

“Because only a general can authorize a search party,” Talbert answered the Virginian - while he did not agree with the policy at all, he knew that there was no getting around it.

“But didn’t Sink say that he left Buck and Welsh in charge if Dike isn’t around? They’re not the type to snitch,” Grant offered to the conversation, scrunching his shoulders up for warmth like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“Hell, they might be happy to help out,” Gordon affirmed the NCO. The men looked around at each other with uncertainty - what if Dike found out? Or Peacock? To be honest, it was probably worse for the latter officer to discover the plot. Thomas Peacock tries his best to be a good captain, but these efforts cause him to be rather heavy-handed with the rules. If Peacock were to hear of the plot to find the missing soldiers, he would surely either tell his superior officers or try to stop the soldiers himself.

“What if we get caught?” Shifty asked nervously - while he wanted to help his friends, the poor boy was nervous to hatch a plot like this.

“We can’t just do nothin’! We all know they’d do the same if it were any of us out there!” The man from Philly interjected, earning Babe a smack on the head from Grant.

“Where would we even start?” McClung asked the group.

“Well, best thing to do would be to investigate the foxhole and see if there are any clues,” everyone turned in shock to see Lipton returning to them. “I needed something from CP, and then I noticed all of you still over here, I figured you were up to no good,” the first sergeant said with a smile, earning him a loving slap on the back from Grant and Johnny Martin. The rest of the afternoon was about to be spent brainstorming, at least until one of the men needed to take their turn watching the line.

All of the men felt nervous, but especially Babe. Guarnere is his best friend, it would be one thing if Babe knew that he was wounded, even killed, but not knowing what happened to Bill was eating away at Babe worse than anything he had ever felt before.

~~~~~

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 (coming soon!)

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @easycompany123 , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @themysciraprincess , @xxluckystrike

Thank you so much as always for reading and stay tuned for Chapter 8! 😁

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 7 months

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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.

#band of brothers #ronald speirs #ronald speirs x ofc #ronald speirs x oc #band of brothers oc #band of brothers fic #hbo war #hbo war fic #hbo war oc #george luz #floyd talbert #lewis nixon #harry welsh #chuck grant #donald malarkey #oc: valerie

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sotwk · 1 year

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Breathe (Boromir x femReader)

Summary: You have harbored a deep, secret crush on Boromir for years, and have now been asked by him to dance.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: Romance, pining, yearning, longing (you get the point) Regency-inspired dance, fluff, started as a drabble but got way out of hand

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: Link

A/N: This was supposed to be a Dance of Romance + Scars from @fellowshipofthefics’s January Trope Roulette, but the “Scars” part just never came out. Whoopsie. I guess I can’t claim credit for fulfilling the challenge, but FotF can claim credit for providing the prompt!

Update: This one-shot has been formally upgraded to the prologue of a multi-chapter Boromir x OC fic. More to follow soon!

Dedication: For @scyllas-revenge, a fellow Boromir stan whose talent I admire. My first ever Boromir fic is just a small thank you for being a cheerleader to me and other writers.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphicsphics

Breathe

Third Age 3008

Minas Tirith, Gondor

“I cannot breathe,” you whimpered to Anarlas, grasping at the sleeve of his tunic as he guided you from the edges of the crowd towards the center of the Great Hall.

But your brother knew you too well and merely chuckled at your dramatics. “That is a bit problematic, given that a good air supply is necessary for dancing." He felt you pull back in resistance and stopped to examine you closely. "Do you really not wish to do this?" he asked softly. "Should I not have accepted the invitation on your behalf?"

You stared up at him, wide-eyed as you struggled to process the last two minutes. One moment you were puttering back and forth aimlessly behind the pillars, content at the fringes of all the merrymaking, with just a cup of wine and your daydreams for company. All of a sudden Anarlas appeared and asked you to come with him, which you did in full trust…until he started to lead you into the noise and commotion instead of saving you from it, dashing your hope that he had decided to go home early, as you had implored for from the start.

"There must be some mistake," you stammered. "Perhaps you heard him incorrectly."

"The Captain was clear about his request. He could not have spoken more plainly: ‘Might I ask your sister for a dance?’.” Anarlas squeezed your arm and grinned. “And since he knows well that I have only one sister, there can be no mistake.”

You bit your lip before you could blurt out a ridiculous argument, that you still believed it possible Lord Boromir had you confused with some other woman. What other explanation could there be for him asking for you? On the evening of a kingdom-wide celebration, when every fair lady in Gondor was clamoring to gain even just a few moments of his attention? Who were you? Just a produce vendor with your own little stall in the lower markets of the White City.

Your family, at least, was worthier of note. Your brother served directly under the Captain of the White Tower, and your father had been an even closer friend to him. He had trained the Steward’s young son in swordsmanship before falling in battle almost twenty years ago. You had been a mere infant then, still nursing at your mother’s breast. Then a few short years later on a particularly harsh winter, your mother succumbed to consumption, leaving you with Anarlas.

Perhaps that was the logical explanation. Lord Boromir was granting you, a poor Gondorian orphan, this kindness in honor of your gallant father. Why he chose this particular occasion to do so, that was the greater mystery.

Anarlas chucked you under the chin to call back your wandering mind. “You look beautiful,” he said gently. “If you ever wonder what Mother looked like, just find yourself a mirror.”

Hope bloomed inside your heart at his words, hewing through the shadows of anxiety and doubt. You wore her dress that evening, the finest article of clothing in your wardrobe, and had been delighted to discover you had finally grown up enough to match her womanly form and fill out the bodice properly.

“If you refuse to believe in yourself, then believe in me,” your brother added firmly.

Confusion knotted your brow, but before you could ask his meaning, someone cleared their throat behind you.

“Forgive my interruption…”

You froze at the arrival of this voice, one you knew intimately despite having had barely any conversations with it. It was the light in the sweetest of your dreams, a sound you committed to memory, plucked from many years of brief and often stolen encounters. Public speeches, overheard conversations, and precious greetings from the incidental crossings of your paths.

“My lord Boromir." You dipped into a curtsy, tightly clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress as you willed yourself to channel her reputed grace and poise.

“My lady…” He bowed to you and spoke your name, ending all doubt of his familiarity. As it rolled off his tongue, the joy that thrilled inside you bolstered your meager courage.

Your mind had already sailed to the clouds and did not register whatever he else might have said or asked. But when he stretched out his hand for yours, instinct and years of pining took the place of thought and good sense, and you slipped your fingers over his, giving your consent.

The crowd parted to give respectful berth to the Son of the Steward as he led his chosen partner to the dance floor. Boromir released your hand to take his place on the side of the men, leaving you to stand with the rest of the women. Open stares of scorn and envy fell upon you, beating at you with silent hostility as you waited for the music to begin.

You wrenched your tearing eyes off the ground, and in trying to force your chin up high, you caught sight of Anarlas standing down the line of men. The love and pride that shone on your brother’s face revitalized your shaky confidence. Believe in yourself, you could imagine him saying. He tilted his head in a pointed signal.

Your gaze shifted to the right and fell straight upon Boromir, and found him staring right back at you, lips slightly parted. The second your eyes locked, he startled, caught off guard. His stare collapsed to his feet in discomfort and, to your amazement, he appeared to blush.

Your breath hitched and you pursed your lips to stifle a giggle that escaped your throat.

The music started. A slower tune, one familiar enough for you to coax the steps from your body’s memory. You loved to dance and did so as often as you could, but your shy nature limited your audience and partners to only Anarlas and yourself.

As the two lines stepped forward to begin the dance, Boromir raised his eyes to you again, defiant of his own embarrassment. As you glided by him in the first pass, you offered him your soft smile. His features immediately relaxed, and his lips curled back upwards, making you shiver.

You twirled and turned back towards him, reaching out with both hands. As his thick, calloused fingers encased yours, you thought you heard him draw a tight breath. Your own heart thundered madly in your chest as his light grasp slipped away once more.

As the spinning and swaying carried on, every reunion of your hands dizzied you with tingling, while each departure from his touch struck in pangs of yearning. The bittersweet longing you had borne for him from afar and for so long now surged sinfully into profound craving. For his touch, for his gaze, for the very warmth of his body next to yours.

His eyes never strayed from you, even as the routine separated you over and over. They were storm-grey, you realized, confirming what you had always fantasized but never truly saw. After every turn they quickly sought out your face again, as though ravenous for the sight.

When your hands joined for several prolonged beats of the song, you heard him murmur your name. In mindless insolence, you returned the favor and addressed him in kind.

“Boromir…”

His fingers suddenly closed around your hand, trapping and enveloping it and preventing you from slipping away again. With a soft tug, he urged you close and cupped his other palm on your hip, stalling you both in the middle of the floor.

“I…” You braced your hands against his chest, summoning the last dregs of strength in your legs to support yourself, when everything else within you begged to melt in his arms.

His hold around you tightened in painstaking slowness, as he ascertained your approval, watching for signs of objection that you never showed. The only distance that now separated you was his towering height, which he breached by leaning down, closer, closer, until you were drowning in his nearness, and felt the sweep of his sigh on your brow, the graze of his nose on your temple. Long dark lashes fluttered over those keen grey eyes that now seemed dazed with the wonder of you, of this moment.

Valar, he was more beautiful than anything your imagination ever conjured over the years.

“I cannot breathe,” you finally whispered.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest and his hands rose to cradle your face. "I know exactly how you feel.”

His thumbs savored the soft skin of your cheekbones, his fingertips explored the delicate shells of your ear. His ministrations were almost enough to eliminate all awareness of your surroundings. While the music carried on, several other couples had finally stopped to gawp at the Captain of Gondor's scandalous display. But for once in your life, the unspeakable, glorious joy that overflowed in your heart simply left no room for concern of anything or anyone else in the world.

“Perhaps we should continue this outside," Boromir suggested, his voice heavy with a promise that ran goosebumps through you. "Where we can have all the air we shall need.”

Tags: @aduialel @fizzyxcustard (Sorry if I missed anyone; I have no formal tag list but will likely put up a tag request form soon!)

For more stories, please see My Masterlist.

Requests are open! Please check my Guidelines and send an Ask.

Thanks for reading!

#boromir #boromir fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #boromir x reader #boromir x you #boromir fanfic #lotr fanfic

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samwinchesterslostshoe · 4 months

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Masterlist

Hello! My name is Avalon, I am a 19 year old art student from Holland with to much time on their hands and part of more fandoms then I can count ;)

Some things about me: I love to paint, draw and knit! I have a deep love for history, architecture and anything 40’s 50’s related!

This blog it my little getaway from the real world, I love sharing my stuff on here with people that love these characters with the same love and enthusiasm as I do and interacting with people and other amazing artist💜

In the little free time I have left from doing actual homework for art school, I like to draw characters from movies and shows that I love.

These include:

Band of brothers

Supernatural

Twin peaks

Rdr2

The last of us

And many more!

I am always open for requests, DM’s and messages!

Band of Brothers fanfic:

Denouement: David Webster x Female OC

Band of brothers icons:

Alton more

Ronald Spiers

Chuck Grant

Eugene Roe

David Webster

Band of brothers moodboards:

Easy Ranch - Pat Christenson

Easy Ranch - Bill Guarnere

Skinny Sisk and Shifty Powers - Taylor Swift

Ronald Spiers x Nurse

Soft Spiers

Eugene Roe

Band of brothers fan art:

George Luz sketch

Lewis Nixon sketch

Liebgott sketch

Lewis Nixon x J.C Leyendecker

Ronald Spiers

Liebgott and Webster

Webster pencil drawing

Malarkey pencil drawing

Stupid pigeon meme (aka Spiedgon)

The Pacific

Eugene Sledge doodle

Eugene Sledge drawing

Masters of the air

Harry Crosby drawing

1917

Blake and Schofield drawing

Detroit: Become Human

Connor

Marcus

6 Characters fan art challenge

Week 1: Gale Cleven

My taglist: @ronsenthal @whollyjoly @next-autopsy @luckynumber4 @barbeygirl @dustyjumpwingz @xxluckystrike @heystovepipeboys @sweetxvanixlla @kafka-ohdear @footprintsinthesxnd @panzershrike-pretz @iceman-kazansky @bucky32557038ww2

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castielli · 2 years

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How to request:

Send your request featuring the character you want, the plot (+ANGST, FLUFF…) and anything I need to know about the reader.

MASTERLISTS:

MOVIES/TV SHOWS

KDRAMA/KPOP

OCs PROFILE:

@nathan-ocs

Fandoms I write for under the cut!

——————————————

NCIS

Timothy McGee

Jimmy Palmer

Nicholas Torres

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer Reid

Penelope Garcia (platonic🫶)

Luke Alvez

CALL OF DUTY (MW/WWII)

John Price

Soap MacTavish

Ghost Riley

Gaz Garrick

Alex Keller

Alejandro Vargas

Phillip Graves

Vladimir Makarov

Rudy Parra

Red Daniels

William Pierson

Joseph Turner

Robert Zussman

Frank Aiello

Drew Stiles

SHAMELESS

Ian Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Kevin Ball

THE WALKING DEAD (+TELLTALE GAME)

Rick Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Negan Smith

Shane Walsh

Lee Everett

Kenny

Doug

Mark

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Robin Buckley (platonic)

Eddie Munson

Jim Hopper

Jonathan Byers

Peter/001

Jason Carver

Dimitri

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY (I still need to finish the last season😊)

Viktor Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Number Five

Luther Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves

SUPERNATURAL

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Crowley

Bobby (platonic)

Chuck

NOW YOU SEE ME

Jack Wilder

J. Daniel Atlas

Merritt McKinney

Dylan Rhodes

Chase McKinney

MARVEL (Avengers/X-men)

Wanda Maximoff

Tony Stark

Bruce Banner

Thor Odinson

Loki Laufeyson

Steve Rogers

Stephen Strange

Peter Parker (Tom/Andrew/Tobey)

Clint Barton

Deadpool

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Peter Quill

Quentin Beck/Mysterio

Eddie Brock/Venom

Druig

Ikaris

Charles Xavier

Erik Lehnsherr

Peter Maximoff

Wolverine

Scott Summers

Hank McCoy

Bobby Drake

Alex Summers

Phil Coulson

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockey

Scott Lang

Pietro Maximoff

Mobius M. Mobius

Matt Murdock

Shang-chi

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Poe Dameron

Finn

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

Scott McCall

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Jackson Whittemore

Peter Hale

Theo Raeken

Liam Dunbar

Jordan Parrish

Mason Hewitt

Danny Mahealani

Aiden Steiner

Ethan Steiner

Corey Bryant

THE BOYS IN THE BAND

Bernard

Harold

Hank

Donald

Cowboy

Alan McCarthy

Michael

Larry

Emory

WHITE COLLAR

Neal Caffrey

Peter Burke

Mozzie (platonic)

Clinton Jones

DIVERGENT

Peter

Caleb Prior

Four

HARRY POTTER

Neville Longbottom

Sirius Black

Cedric Diggory

Seamus Finnigan

Viktor Krum

Remus Lupin

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

Charlie Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Ron Weasley

Oliver Wood

FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM

Gellert Grindelwald (Mads Mikkelsen)

Newt Scamander

Credence Barebone

Theseus Scamander

Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law)

HUNGER GAMES

Peeta Mellark

Coriolanus Snow

Sejanus Plinth

MAZE RUNNER

Newt

Thomas

Gally

Minho

911 (and LONE STAR)

Evan Buckley (Buck)

Howie Han (Chimney)

Bobby Nash

Eddie Diaz

TK Strand

Carlos Reyes

Paul Strickland

Owen Strand

Jud Ryder

Mateo Chavez

RIVERDALE

Jughead Jones

FP Jones

Archie Andrews

Hiram Lodge

Sweet Pea

Fangs

Kevin Keller

Reggie Mantle

Chic

Moose Mason

BROOKLYN99

Jake Peralta

Terry Jeffords

All the others (platonic only)

CHRISTIAN BALE

Patrick Bateman (American Psycho)

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

PEDRO PASCAL

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Javi Gutierrez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Javier Peña (Narcos)

Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones)

Agent Whiskey (Kingsman)

Silva (Strange Way of Life)

Francisco Morales (Triple Frontier)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

DETROIT BECOME HUMAN

Connor

RK900

Hank

Markus

Luther

Simon

Gavin

Josh

BARBIE

Ken (Ryan)

Ken (Simu)

Allan

SHERLOCK

Sherlock Holmes

John Watson

Jim Moriarty

Mycroft Holmes

FNAF (movie)

Mike Schmidt

Steve Raglan

SUITS

Harvey Specter

Mike Ross

LA CASA DE PAPEL

El Profesor

Berlín

Palermo

Denver

Río

I WON’T WRITE:

-Smut (for anyone)

-R*pe

-Female readers/GN readers

-Suic*de

-inc*st

-Crossdressing

-Romantic/Suggestive stories for underage characters (only platonic, basically)

If the character you wanted to request is not on the list, you can try and ask me anyways.

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scryarchives · 4 months

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

"after they leave, it's just the voices and i."

masterlist | previous , next !

–pairings: itadori yuuji x oc

– warning: mentions of death, fluff, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc

– author’s note: more lore!! i swear ill be getting into the action soon but uh,,, this series might end up longer than expected

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

“Well, we should be off.”

My gaze snapped up to meet honey-brown eyes once more, those two little marks underneath Itadori’s eyes, as if they were another set of eyes, stared back at me. His pout was evident, expressions freely displayed in contrast to Fushiguro’s poker face. Yet even with his judgemental gaze, I plastered on a smile.

“Ah, is it that late already?” Nobara sighed, and I lightly shoved her shoulder.

“It’s late enough,” Fushiguro, grabbed Itadori’s sleeve. “We should leave you to unpack.”

“I almost forgot about that, but thanks for the reminder.”

I walked the two to the door, Nobara getting a headstart on cleaning up the mess – considering that she did make the most of it – while Itadori continued to pout at the lack of time spent together.

“Dang, I was hoping to get to know you better,” He huffed, before letting out a radiant smile once more. “I’m sure we’ll meet tomorrow though! When will you be free?”

I glance behind the door, seeing a big thumbs up from Nobara, and I turn back to Itadori, sucking in wince.

“I mean, I’m still pretty busy unpacking, so uh… no, I’m not free. Sorry.”

“Oh, uh, that’s alright. What about the day after– OW!”

A fist was lowered on Itadori’s head, and I couldn’t help but let out a genuine wince, seeing how hard he was hit on the head.

“Leave it at that, Yuuji,” Fushiguro sighed. “She’s busy, so leave her be.”

“Alright, alright, no need to get violent,” He huffed before turning to me, letting out a little hopeful smile. “Well uh, hope to see you around then?”

“Yeah,” The twinkle in his eye set off a little feeling of nausea in me. “Around. Sure.”

“Great! See you around!”

“You said that twice, idiot,” Fushiguro sighed, pulling Itadori away by the back of the collar of his shirt.

“Thanks for lunch, by the way!” I called out before turning to close my dorm door, but not without Itadori gleefully yelling back ‘You’re welcome!’

“Busy, huh?” Nobara chimed. “I was hoping you weren’t too busy for me.”

“You’re always welcome, Nobara,” I sigh, walking over to help her clean up.

“So you don’t like them?”

“It’s not that I don’t like Itadori and Fushiguro. I just didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to become stronger, to fight for myself and others.”

“Sheesh, straight to the point,” She shrugs. “Can’t blame you for that. But hey, here’s to hoping we’ll be in the same class. I need another gal in my class, not sure how much longer I can tolerate those guys.”

“Hah! You handle them perfectly fine, Nobara, don’t take yourself for granted,” I pat her on the back as I take the two small plastic bags of trash, chucking them into my bin.

“Hey, you handled them well too, although it was in a silent, deadly-stare kinda way,” She muttered the last bit, before sighing and walking towards my dorm door.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah, unless you want me to stay on and help,” She then pointed at my eyes. “Though I can tell your social battery is practically dead.”

I let a smile slip onto my features, and that’s enough for her to know. She lowers her hand, reaching for the door as I hear it click open.

“You know me too well, Nobara. I’ll see you around?”

“Just text or call me, dork,” She calls out, the door closing behind her.

A soft laugh escapes me, and I’m left alone in the silence again. I look over to my suitcase, before getting up to lock my door. Once that was done, I seat myself back by my barely unpacked suitcase.

I didn’t pack many clothes. It wasn’t like I needed anything more than my uniform and maybe a few casual outing clothes. I was here to learn, maybe hang with Nobara, but nothing more, nothing less.

As soon as my clothes were kept away in the cupboard, the photo in my bag caught my eye. It was enough to capture my full attention, and I closed my wardrobe shut, walking over to my case to take the paper image instead.

“Mama.”

Her eyes, shining like stars in the dark vast of space, were filled with such warmth, her arms wrapped around a much smaller version of me and my baby brother. My father stood behind her, a wide smile stretched across his cheeks.

We looked happy.

Never did I ever think I would see my father’s smile again. But it would always be there in my memories, in my pictures, reminding me of my wrongs – my mistakes; my actions.

My thumb rubs across the surface of the once-fond memory, swiping off the tears that landed on it. Couldn’t afford to lose more of what once was. I sit on my bed, feeling the mattress sink under me. The picture sits on my bedside table, but a feeling of longing and irritation nags me.

I suck my teeth in annoyance, and all that’s left is to face whatever’s eating at me.

I find myself standing in the middle of the room, taking one last look at us, smiling without care. I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my notes before landing on a specific one. I’ve never cast this technique for a single reason, but I needed advice now more than ever.

Taking one last glance at the little text on my screen, I turned my phone off, returning all my focus to my newest technique.

“Beyond the grave and from the dead.”

It started with flickering lights. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t afford distractions, I couldn’t afford to mess up again.

“I beseech the knowledge within your head.”

The windows rattled and the rapid flickering of the lightbulbs worsened.

“I seek your guidance, oh passing spirit. Until my time has reached its limit.”

Silence. It surrounded me, everything deathly still. My eyes opened, and I was in darkness. A dim light glowed from the lights above, though I doubted that the lights were this purple before.

My back straightened, and I let out a sigh of relief, a weight lifting off my chest. I slipped a card out of my pocket, my thumb rubbing against the sigil of the Eight of Wands. I held it straight before me, upright, as I forced the next words out of my mouth.

“I now reveal Yamomoto Chizuru, wife of Shu Daichi, and former user of the Spiritual Technique.”

And there she stood, eyes warm as ever, despite the coldness they held in her dying moments. A smile rested on her lips, arms outstretched in welcome.

“Tsubame,” Her voice filled my ears, and my vision watered with newly unshed tears. “How good it is to finally speak to you.”

“Okaa-san.”

gif by @heycaz

taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki < comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itadori yuuji x oc #itadori yuuji x reader #jujutsu kaisen itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen anime #itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji jjk #ocs #kugisaki nobara #fushiguro megumi #oc #jujutsu kaisen oc #jjk oc #sam writes !#okay yea she's not okay #oc's a little ball of ptsd #she needs a hug

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bellewintersroe · 17 days

Text

Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC.

Margaret ‘Maggie’ Emerson, an army nurse attached to the 506th parachute infantry regiment, finds herself growing closer to her company’s captain, Ronald Speirs. With war drawing to an end, a side to the mystery that is Captain Speirs is revealed. Both Maggie and Ron have a difficult time resisting their attraction to one another.

Part 2 to this mini series ~ here’s the LINK to part 1. This chapters boring, I warn, but I’m gonna make it more exciting as it goes along.

1 week later, Austria, Zell am See.

“Captain Speirs, sir! What happened, why did nobody call me?!” Maggie was breathless by the time she caught up to Speirs. Her chest was heaving and falling rapidly and from the way she held her hand on her forehead he could tell she was stressed.

His breath hitched at the sight of her there, in the middle of the Austrian town, seemingly alone. She’d caught him after he’d just encountered the drunken replacement who’d shot Grant. “Why’re you out here, alone?”

“What happened to Chuck, is he dead?” Her voice trembled as Ron exhaled, she was evidently panicked, shaken from the news she’d heard. “He’s okay.” His words caused a sense of relief to rush through her. “Oh, thank god.” She’d been working in the other infirmary at the opposite side of town, helping out minor injuries and ailments in the local village. “There was no time to get to you. We found a Kraut surgeon, he says Chuck’s gonna make it.”

“Jesus.” A hand fell onto her chest, feeling as though she could finally breathe again. “And-and the guy who did that?”

“He’s inside.” Ron felt his blood running cold. “Is he- have you-” instinctively, he knew where this was going, have you shot him, Ron? Did you execute him? He could only imagine what she was thinking.

“No.” Ron swallowed. “He’s still alive if that’s what you’re wondering.” A slight guilt ran through Maggie as her gaze averted around the area, a sense of awkwardness following. Her presumptions maybe had come on a little too strong- not that she meant any harm. Ron wasn’t offended, he just didn’t want her to think that way about him. The men, fine, he didn’t care. But not her.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“I know, I heard what he did.” She muttered, jaw tightening. Nora fed back to her that the attacker had been found trying to force himself upon a local Austrian girl. Truly terrifying.

“I’ll walk you home, Maggie.”

“Don’t you have things to… sort out in there?” Her voice cracked. “No. Not anymore.” Maggie stepped closer and they both began walking silently. “Smoke?” He offered. “No thank you. Makes my hair smell and throat dry.” For the first time he felt his lips tug up at her response, shrugging and lighting his own.

“Captain Speirs.” She muttered, turning up to him, lips pouted around the end of the bud as he held the lighter up to the other end.

“Mmmmh.” He casually responded and she swallowed nervously. “I didn’t think you- y’know…” she fidgeted as Ron’s eyes fixated on her, awaiting her response.

“I didn’t think you killed him, I don’t want you to think I think like that.” She nervously spoke. Ron didn’t know whether to play it off as cool or thank her, since when did it really matter what other people thought of him? Ron very quickly learnt that his soft spot was a little more than he anticipated and he found himself attracted to her.

He inhaled his cigarette, making eye contact with her again, lips forming a gentle smile. “I don’t mind people thinking of me like that.”

“I know but- I don’t.” She clarified and Ron felt blissful to hear the words again. “Unless you want me to.” She lightheartedly commented. Ron shrugged casually, semi-smirking to himself. “You don’t need to be scared of me.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

“I used to be.”

“Used to be?” His brow perked. “Yeah.” She shyly nodded. “Why aren’t you anymore?” For a moment everything felt so casual, Ron was continuing the conversation like he was bantering with an old friend, it just felt so normal. Both of them felt it until she glimpsed at him in his uniform again.

“Well-” she began, searching for the correct answer. “We actually spoke to each other and I realised you weren’t that bad.” Ron enjoyed the way she felt like she could joke with him, the two shared a genuine smile as they ventured further down the street to get back to the square where they both stayed.

“Weren’t that bad, huh?” He smirked again, cigarette dangling between his lips. “Mmmh.” She shrugged, grinning to herself.

“That doesn’t sound… promising.” They offered one another yet another smile. “You’re just… not as intimidating as I thought you were.” The two of them stepped onto the cobbles of the square, heading through slowly. Ron mentally prayed that the walk would somehow be longer, Maggie unconsciously slowed her pace, gazing up to the apartment. She could see one of the girls heads bobbing down from the window rather inconspicuously. Nice try Nora, Maggie thought.

“Anyway, I have training tomorrow- you’d probably already know that.” She rolled her eyes at her own comment. “I should go to bed.” Her shoulder shrugged again, twisting on the heel of her foot. “Alright, take care.” He commented, lip perking up into a painfully handsome half smile.

“Thank you for walking me back- again.” She quickly added on, body slowly turning, but her eyes still fixated to him. “That’s alright.”

“Oh, and Chuck’s definitely okay, right?”

“Kraut surgeon says so.” Ron nodded, tapping the ash from his cigarette onto the ground below. “Okay. G’night, sir.”

“Night, Maggie.”

When the door shut again behind her she was grinning to herself, overwhelmed from the drastic turn in emotions. Little did she expect to enter her apartment and see Nora stood there with both Skinny and Alton sat at the table. “And where’ve you been young lady?” Alton teased, Maggie’s eyes rolled playfully as she locked the door behind her.

“Weren’t you just down at CP like 10 minutes ago?”

“We were. We walked the fast way around, you were a little too… distracted to notice.” Alton responded as Skinny snickered. “Oh shut up, you peeping toms.” Maggie swatted at Skinny’s arm as Nora stood sheepishly near the window.

“So you’re the reason he’s softened.” She shrugged as Maggie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“Well he didn’t shoot that guy in there, he could’ve.” Skinny muttered as she turned her back, heading towards the kitchen counter to grab herself an empty glass. “That would be a war crime.” Maggie insisted.

“You think Speirs cares about war crimes? The whole SS is a war crime.” Skinny responded as she filled the glass up with water, feeling an odd sense of defensiveness fill her. “I think he’d know not to do anything stupid at this stage.” Maggie smartly spoke, turning around and carrying her glass back to her bedroom, but not before flicking Skinny’s ear playfully.

“Ow! Didn’t realise he was your boyfriend.”

“Actually he’s just gentleman enough to walk me back.” I teased, digging in my pocket for the chocolate bar I promise I’d steal for Nora. “Here Nora.” She tossed the girl it over who stood smirking in amusement. “Never thought I’d see Speirs and you together.” Alton commented.

“We’re not.”

“You will be.”

“You’re a child.”

“Alton, leave her alone! Besides, Captain Speirs is a total dreamboat when you forget how scary he is.”

“I suppose some girls are into that, huh?” Alton teased again as I groaned, heading straight for my bed. Knowing how loud-mouthed the two of those boys were, especially after a drink, I expected to hear rumours circulating by the morning.

#band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers imagines #captain speirs x reader #Speirs x reader #easy company x reader

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coco-bean-1218 · 8 months

Note

#10 and #14 for the ship game, please!

Hello! Thank you very much for the ask!

10. It seems that both Claire and Grant enjoy spending time outdoors, whether it be by visiting the lake or going for a walk. Claire is fond of animals, and it's possible that Grant shares the same love. They both seem to have unique interests, but they take pleasure in supporting each other's passions. I can picture Grant giving surfing lessons to Claire, or Claire discussing topics related to Psychology or Neuroscience with Grant.

14. Post-war- yes! especially holding hands, walking arm in arm, kisses on the cheek and forehead, and hugs from behind.

These are fun, feel free to send more!

#wbwnmh #well behaved women never make history #my oc #my first oc story #band of brothers oc #chuck grant x oc

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piinkyypriincess · 3 months

Text

LETTER'S TO MY LOVELY

Shinichi Okazaki x American!OC

"I Love You"

Main Pairing ~ Shinichi Okazaki x American!OC

Warning ~ Neglective parents, moving countries, naivety, and coming of age.

Spoilers ~ Yes!!

Masterpost ~ Here.

Beta Read/Edited ~ No (No Beta Lmao)

Word Count ~ 1.5k Words.

Chp Summary ~ Shinichi looked like a whirlwind had barreled over his body and swept him up in a storm. He was sweet like honey, nice as could be. He was truly everything, even from a first glance.

Chp 1 ~ Lovely, as Sweet as Honey.

Living in Tokyo was never something Penelope Brown thought she would be doing at fourteen.

The girl thought she would be going to school dances, and fretting about what skirt to wear at her public school in America.

The girl thought she'd be worried about maintaining steady grades, and staying up for all-nighters.

The girl even envisioned giggling with other school girls about boys at sleepovers.

Girlhood is what she thought she'd have; not being shoved full force into uprising adulthood, and at a private boarding school nonetheless.

Being shoved into a mold meant for perfection, being polished into a refined lady, is something she never envisioned for herself.

Not quite yet had she wanted to ripen into adulthood.

Penelope wanted girlhood that came straight out of the cliché movies with friends and petty problems.

Too bad that girls don't get what they want; and women understand that. A woman was not something she was yet, mentally at least.

But even so: possibilities are the endless opening for more opportunities.

How could she pass up the once-in-a-lifetime chance to go to Japan? Her parents were average middle-class African Americans, they wanted her to take flight from the nest as soon as possible. So, after an extremely short conversation with each other, they inevitably encouraged her transfer.

If not due to how it would look on her resume, they also claimed that she would be able to broaden her horizons. Maybe she would figure out what career path she wanted to pursue, and the school would support it.

Penelope thought it was because they wouldn't have to take care of her anymore, and they got boasting rights that their daughter was going overseas.

She didn't voice her opinion to spare herself from an argument; plus she was too beside herself that she would be leaving the hellfire that is Florida, and her friends behind.

Her parent's might've been neglecting, but they weren't physically abusive.

She still harbored love for them, as manipulative as that love was.

Penelope didn't want to leave America. She didn't care that her grade average was high, there were kids smarter than her, so why her?

She didn't even know what she wanted to do with her life.

So, like the naive little girl she was, she begged for change.

She begged through hitching sobs and wet lashes up at the moon, like it was some deity. She childishly wished for an opportunity to live out her dreams of girlhood, even if she was confined in a Japanese boarding school.

Still, she was just a girl. And girls didn't get exactly what they wanted after all.

It was such a first-world problem, to want to have a school life like one of those cute shoujo mangas she'd been reading recently.

Penelope gave that thought a wet, humorless laugh. She swung her legs back and forth, childishly, over the gray stones that bordered the Tama River.

She was a top-grading student at her junior high in America, and was being granted the opportunity of a lifetime. Yes, she was going to be chucked into Japanese society as a transfer student.

She should've been overjoyed that her school chose her to attend school at their newly opened sister school. She should've been even happier that her parents agreed to the terms of her moving overseas.

Penelope should've been overjoyed. She should've been jumping for joy; she got to attend a private boarding school with some of the brightest minds of her generation.

The school had so many different courses that she didn't even know what to choose as her main curriculum, and ultimately chose general studies.

Possibilities are the endless opening for more opportunities; she'd choose a career eventually.

Junior high was filled with boys, dances, and fun, wouldn't high school be the same?

Penelope prayed to whatever deity that would listen for an exciting life, one that emulated a girlhood the way she'd envisioned.

Ever the greedy soul, wanting more, Penelope got just what she wanted sitting on the late-night train to Shinjuku, Japan.

She'd just left her spot in Chofu by the Tama River. The smooth rocks she sat at were near an apartment complex, that was older judging by its architecture, but had an old luxury feel to it.

Penelope wished she could have lived there instead of having to move into a dorm room. The brown-skinned girl picked at the edges of her sparkly pink nail polish, wondering if she'd have a roommate.

She'd have to return to the hotel the school was providing her to stay in until the new school year started. For now, she stayed half a mile outside the school grounds and was trying to get familiarized with the area before April.

The doors were close to closing when a lanky boy slunk his way through the gap of the closing doors.

He bent down on his right knee with his hand clutching a shiny black belt, in the other hand, he clutched his cell phone impossibly tight.

Muffled yells filled the slightly empty train car, the boy still panting in his soaking wet clothes. Light hazel eyes flitted over the filled seats of the train car, he looked frightened almost.

The train car's door shut with a hiss, and the wheels started to squeak as the train sparked to life. The teenage boy still hadn't sat down yet, making a crease of confusion in Penelope's brow as she took in the empty spaces.

It wasn't as if the boy was just standing, waiting for his stop; he looked like he didn't know what to do with himself as he stood directly in front of the double doors. The doors nearly clipped his clothes as they closed.

Penelope took out an earbud that was connected to her Motorola Razr phone, and waved her hand tentatively.

A small smile graced her lips when the boy clicked a button on his phone, and pushed his antenna down. He took a seat beside her.

Shoving his phone into his wet jean pocket, the boy gave a small reassuring smile back at her. Penelope blinked, looking away from the boy who had a small swipe of red lipstick staining his lip and chin.

The boy muttered a small greeting; the brown-skinned girl smiled a little wider and attempted to keep her eyes off of the boy.

The girl's syrupy eyes were shining with glee as he sat next to her. A pregnant pause of silence enveloped them as the train started to pick up speed. Penelope noted how the boy had a pale skin tone compared to the slight tan that graced the skin of Japanese natives.

Penelope, as an African American girl, was expected to be several shades darker than the rest of her peers.

It would isolate her further besides not being Einstein intelligent.

The girl shook her head at the thought. The first school semester hadn't even started, the negative thoughts that plagued her mind were from nerves. She shouldn't be so negative when nothing has happened.

However, Penelope got strange looks from random people when she walked by them, and squirmed as their stare flamed her body.

She wouldn't want someone else to feel that way with her staring. She didn't want to make an assumption in her mind about his features, or why he looked so disheveled as he tied the laces of his sneakers.

The teen girl just muttered a greeting back trying to exile the thoughts.

The teens' clothes looked uncomfortable with the way they clung to his skinny form. Penelope didn't think as she muttered, “Tough night?” In English before going to correct herself in her limited Japanese.

The glum expression of empty sadness was replaced with amusement as the boy nodded.

Penelope felt the tips of her ears grow warm with embarrassment as she started to sputter an apology. For the first time, Penelope wished she could not speak to evade the embarrassment.

“Yeah actually,” The boy responded in English with an air of surprise around him. A posh British accent with a hint of a foreign twang graced her ears.

A grin spread on his face, “You're accents different,” He said curiously, eyes crinkling into half moons as he gave her a sly boyish grin.

“I'm American,” She started and stuck her hand out politely with a shy smile.

“My name's Penelope, what's yours?” She said hesitantly, attempting to make a new friend without coming off so seemingly like herself.

The boy seemed different, more mature as he spoke without a stutter. He was good at making small talk like adults did to be polite; nothing to do with the lipstick that stained his pale skin so obviously, or even to question in her head, why he was holding his belt.

The boy grasped her warm hand in his cold, damp one. His touch was gentle, and the pads of his fingers rubbed a quick circle into her palm politely with a firm shake.

“Shinichi Okazaki, a pleasure to meet you, Penelope,” He said, moving his body closer to hers.

Penelope could feel his wet clothes seep her own with cool dampness, his side entirely pressed against her as if she was a familiar person to him already.

Penelope disregarded that fact, just happy to have a social interaction that wasn't forced.

A silver-studded designer earring caught her wide-eye's attention. The close proximity to the boy and height difference, despite being seated, made her crane her neck to look into his eyes.

They were several shades lighter than her own, a hazel coffee brown that seemed warm and comforting. She analyzed the features of his face freely as she was taken off guard by his friendliness.

Penelope blinked back in surprise and gave the boy a gummy smile, pearly whites on display due to his kindness.

Shinichi was lovely, the naive girl decided. A lovely boy her age who was as sweet as honey, a friend, a good opportunity to have a sense of companionship with.

Shinichi, I still think you're lovely, even if you don't think that way about yourself.

Not much has changed about you to this day. You're like dark chocolate; sweet and tangy.

Even though I believe our lives would have been different, maybe it was a blessing that we met that night. Maybe it was a curse.

After all, that's what love is, right?

I said before that I wished we never met, but I'm glad we did. Who knows what would've happened if we didn't ever meet?

I know for a fact you would have made it in life regardless, the resilient man you are. I'm glad I got to experience you, even if I am frustrated that you will never be mine.

Thank you for taking my hand in yours that night. I don't think my palm will fit so perfectly with another's, other than you.

You've ruined every aspect of love for me. I'm grateful I even got to experience it with you.

I love you,

Penelope.

#shinichi okazaki #nana imagine #nana anime #nana manga #possessive shinichi okazaki #protective shinichi okazaki #hurt/comfort #shinichi okazaki x poc!oc #shinichi okazaki x fem!oc #shinichi okazaki x reader #???? i annually dont think that applies technically its an oc #shin imagine #black stones #blast #trapnest

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 1 year

Link

Just Come Home - Ronald Speirs x OFC

When Valerie Harmon finds herself alone and stranded in France following the Nazi invasion, she is sure her future is lost. But when a chance encounter brings her closer to Easy Company and a certain Captain, her life begins to rebuild itself anew.

Just Come Home is now on AO3!

#just come home #band of brothers #band of brothers fic #band of brothers oc #ronald speirs x oc #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs x ofc #ronald speira #carwood lipton #chuck grant #dick winters #lewis nixon #floyd talbert #george luz #hbo war #hbo war fic

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mads-weasley · 1 year

Text

I'm Here

Floyd Talbert x OC

Masterlist

A/N: First off, hi @issiie / @cetaitlaverite !! MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS (queue *nsync)!! I really tried to give you what you requested, so I hope you enjoy it! I have been sooo excited to be able to post this! This is my first time writing an OC fic, so bear with me lol! Also, I know Tab really isn't in "The Breaking Point" much, but for the story's purpose, let's pretend he is! :)

Summary: When Virginia Bailey joined the Army, she had no idea she'd be gaining a new family, and maybe even more.

Warnings: mentions of death, angst with fluff!

"I just don't get it, Chuck."

"Get what? Cause there's a lot of things I don't get. Like, why did Hitler start this mess in the first place, also, more importantly, what in the he-"

"Virginia," Talbert interrupted, not taking his eyes off of the blonde across the mess hall from them. "She doesn't really talk to anyone. She just sits alone and reads her book."

Grant raised his eyebrows at his friend. "Do you have something against educated women?" he asked with a smirk.

Pulling his attention off of the girl, Floyd cut his eyes at him. "Of course not, idiot. I just wished she would open up a little bit."

"Maybe she's waiting for an invitation to."

The comment struck the boy from Kokomo. Maybe she was just waiting for someone to reach out and make the first move. Without another word, he got up and made his way over to the girl's table. He slid into the seat in front of her, his signature grin plastered on his face as she glanced up at her book at him.

"Floyd Talbert. It's Virginia, isn't it?" He asked.

Marking her place in the book, she laid it down, shaking his hand with a small smile. "Yep. Virginia Bailey. Most people call me Ginny, though."

A slight southern accent seeped into her voice, and he found it surprisingly comforting.

"So, Ginny. What made you want to join up?"

She froze momentarily at his question, eyes widening as she searched for an answer. Sensing her alarm, he felt bad and quickly changed the subject.

"What book are you reading?" He asked softly, nodding at the book on the table.

Her smile returned as she picked it up, eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's called Evil Under the Sun by Agatha Christie. It's a murder mystery novel where they find a lady washed up on a beach and try to find her killer."

Floyd thought it was adorable how excited she was about the book. Being the first time that he was up close to the girl, he scanned her features, noticing her striking hazel eyes, blue around the edge with green and golden brown mixed in. He also took notice of the slight sunburn she wore that revealed the light freckles under the rosiness of her cheeks. She was beautiful, and he couldn't look away.

Breaking from his trance, he chuckled. "Sounds interesting. I might have to steal it from you one day."

Smiling back at him, Ginny told herself that she needed this: to open up. She wasn't alone anymore. It also didn't hurt that her first friend happened to be one of the most attractive men she had ever seen.

After that day, Floyd made sure to introduce all the men to Ginny, wanting her to feel like a part of the company. The only ones he didn't bother introducing her to were Cobb and his buddies who did nothing but hate other people.

Over the course of training, she became really close with the boys, some of them even feeling like brothers to her: Joe Toye, Bill, and Buck, especially.

Tab...he was a different story. There was nothing brotherly about the way Ginny felt about him. His smile lit up her world, and when he looked at her, everything around them stopped. Floyd Talbert was her best friend, and she would never do anything that would jeopardize that, so she kept her feelings to herself.

Little did she know that the same feelings coursed through him every time she'd enter a room, heart skipping at the sight of her.

Every now and then, though, she would fall back into the habit of the past, distancing herself from everyone, including those who meant the most to her.

December, 1944

Virginia sat in her foxhole, freezing from the everpresent snow falling on the company in the Bois Jacques as gunshots went off in the distance. Staring at the line ahead of her, she flexed her frozen fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them, but she had no luck. When they were moved into Bastogne, their supplies were already low, but they were promised they would come in soon. They didn't.

So there they were with barely anything to protect them from the bitter cold, limited ammunition, barely any medical equipment, and nothing but Joe Domingus' rancid beans to keep them warm.

"Hey, Ginny," Bill Guarnere called from the treeline behind her. "Come get some supper. Today's menu consists of...beans." He laughed. "Who would've thought?"

Rolling her eyes with a smile, she checked the line once again before slipping out of her foxhole and making her way through the frozen forest with Bill.

"How are ya holding up? Staying warm?" he asked, tucking his chin into the collar of his thin coat.

Virginia shrugged. "The best I can. We're all cold, but I'll manage."

"Oh, I get that. I've been pissing needles for the past week and it's killing me."

She grimaced, scanning the forest around them. "You told Gene?"

"Yeah, he's waiting on some penicillin to come in. But like you said, I'll manage."

As they reached the rest of the men, Ginny left Bill to stand beside Floyd in line but a hand shot out to stop her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Bailey. No cuts, even for Easy's princess."

She didn't even need to look and see who it was, the voice instantly recognizable.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, Skip?" She quipped with a smirk, matching the wide one that painted his face.

"Absolutely nothing."

She playfully knocked his shoulder with her fist. "Yeah, that's what I thought, Muck."

Arriving at Tab's side, Virginia stuffed her hands under her armpits with a groan. "Floyd, how long are we gonna be here without supplies?"

He hadn't seen her approach, so he about has a heart attack from her voice. "Gin! I about shi-"

"Lucky I'm not a kraut," she interrupted with a smile. "Otherwise, you'd be dead."

Pulling her into a tight side hug, he ran his hand along her arm, trying to warm her up. "Yeah. I hope we get winter gear soon."

Virginia stared blankly at the line through the trees, choosing to ignore the warmth that suddenly spread through her body at their contact.

"Me too."

January 3rd, 1945

"It's too quiet," Ginny whispered to herself as she walked through the woods to her foxhole. Looking around, she couldn't shake the feeling that something very bad was about to happen.

A voice broke her from her thoughts. "Ginny!"

Turning toward it, she saw the voice belonged to Wild Bill Guarnere, who was standing with Malarkey.

"Hey, boys. How're y'all holding up?"

Bill shook his head with a cocky grin. "Better. I finally stopped pissing needles."

With a chuckle, she patted his shoulder. "That's good!"

"How about you, Virginia?" Don asked. "Have you confessed to Tab yet?"

Thankfully, Ginny wasn't drinking anything, otherwise, it would've spewed from her mouth. It didn't stop her from choking on her own spit, though.

"What?" she blurted with a sputtering cough.

Bill smirked. "Come on, Bailey. Don't act li-"

"Incoming!"

Wooshes of artillery firing filled the ear, directly followed by ground-shaking explosions.

Losing her balance, Virginia held onto Malarkey, trying her best to remain standing. When another shell landed, she lost her battle with gravity, knees smashing into the hard ice below her. Instantly, arms hooked under hers, pulling her up.

"Ginny, come on!" Bill yelled, pushing her ahead of him in a sprint toward a foxhole. Dirt flew around them as other soldiers' cries filled the air.

"Take cover!"

"Move it!"

As they finally reached their foxhole, a shell landed behind them, propelling Virginia into the hole in a heap. Even in all the chaos, her mind wandered to Floyd. Where was he? Was he okay?

The trio huddled together until the bombardment ceased moments later. Don was the first one to pull away and his head over the edge, peering out at the damage. Soon Bill and Ginny did the same.

"Maybe we should see if anybody's hit," Malarky asked shakily.

"Yeah, Malark, that's what they want."

Ginny's eyes scanned the smoldering battlefield ahead of them, praying Tab wasn't laying dead in the snow somewhere. She quickly shook away the thought and sighed.

"The Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open."

People always talk about the silence after a snowfall, but that was nothing compared to the silence that filled the air in the Ardennes at that moment.

Everyone held their breath, waiting on the call for a medic to come, praying that it didn't.

Through the silence, they heard a faint voice in the distance.

"I need help!"

Don heard it first. "You hear that?" He asked the group.

"I need help!" the voice repeated.

Realization dawned on Bill as his heart sank. "Is that Joe?"

"Help!"

Virginia felt her throat close up as she whispered. "Yeah, I think that's Joe."

Within seconds, Bill was climbing out of the foxhole with Ginny shortly behind him. When he noticed this, he pushed her gently back down in the hole.

"Stay, Ginny. Talbert would have my head if his girl was hurt caus'a' me."

With a nod, she watched him run towards Joe with an uneasy feeling.

Malarkey placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They're gonna be okay, Bailey. Don't worry."

"I hope so."

A few minutes passed when they heard the all-to-familiar sound of a shell whistle.

"Take cover!"

"Find a foxhole!"

Instantly, Don pulled her down beside him in the hole as dirt and snow sprayed on them. It was worse this time. She could tell by the way the ground shook so violently, more so than minutes before.

Even after the barrage ended, they stayed at the bottom of the hole until they heard the broken scream of Buck.

"Medic!"

They made eye contact for a moment before springing up and running toward the sound. As they got closer, they could hear the cries of Bill and Joe.

Just before they came into view, something, more like someone, slammed into Ginny, almost bringing her to the ground.

"Gin!" Tab whispered into her neck. "I thought you were gone."

Realizing who it was, she hugged him back just as fiercely. She pulled back slightly to get a full view of his face, sighing when she saw it was only marred with a few small scratches.

Glancing past him, her mind went to the task at hand.

A lump formed in her throat, and her voice came out as a strained croak. "Bill and Joe, I need to-"

"No, Virginia," he interrupted, cupping her cheeks. "You don't need to see that. They're going to be okay."

Floyd knew she could handle the carnage that was caused by the bombardment, but he also knew it would break her to see men she saw as brothers in that condition.

"But Floyd, I-"

He rubbed her cheeks gently. "No buts, sweetheart. It's gonna be alright. Okay?

The tears in her hazel eyes blurred his browns. "Okay."

"We're gonna be alright." He whispered, pulling her into a fragile hug and resting his cheek against the top of her head. It broke his heart to hear and feel the small sobs that shook her body. Floyd tried to calm her by running his fingers through her hair, but all he could think about was the fact they had been reminded of that day: nothing is guaranteed. Right then and there, he promised himself that he would tell her how he felt, sooner rather than later.

January 12th, 1945

In the 9 days since Bill and Joe had been evacuated, Muck and Penkala got hit, and Buck was...being sent home. Virginia had lost 5 of her close friends, and it was taking a visible effect on her. Where before she would gravitate toward the other men, now, she elected to stay by herself most of the time, silently staring out at the line.

When he first noticed her doing this, Tab went out of his way to make sure she had some company, but she was even pulling away from him. This hurt him worse than any bullet wound could.

It all came to a head one day when he saw her trying to dig a new foxhole by herself. The frozen ground made it near impossible for a group to dig one, much less alone. Hoping for a change in her behavior, he crouched next to the tiny hole she'd created and pulled out his shovel.

"Let me help, Gin. Please?" Floyd asked softly, brows furrowed with concern.

She keeps her eyes on the ground as she continued to dig her foxhole. "I can manage. Really."

Tab can't help but sigh. "I know you can. You just don't have to do it alone. We're all here to help you. I'm here to help you."

"I know that," she answered weakly.

The young man's heart cracked softly. "Then why does it seem you've forgotten that?"

She glanced back at him and met his concerned eyes for the first time in days.

"I-I," she started, placing her shovel into the small pile of dirt before sitting on the ground beside it. "I guess I thought it would be easier this way."

Wordlessly, he sat down beside her, placing his hand on top of hers in support.

"What would be easier, Gin?"

She tugged her hand out of his tender grip, covering her face to hide the tears. "All of this. The death. The hurt...Everything. After losing so many people, I figured it's easier to not get attached."

"Even easier with me?"

"You're the one person I never could lose, Floyd. You're th-"

Floyd interrupted her gently, pulling her hands away from her face, and wiping her tears with his thumbs. "What if I'm already attached?"

A small smile painted her rosy-tinted face. "Then I'd say we're screwed because I'm attached too. "

Neither had noticed, but they had slowly inched closer and closer until their faces were mere inches apart. Virginia glanced down at his lips as he did the same.

Tab was the one to close the gap first, gently connecting his lips with hers, before sliding his hand behind her neck, deepening the kiss.

At the sound of a sharp whistle, they pulled apart suddenly, glancing at where it came from. It was George Luz standing with a wide smile.

"Ah man, I owe Bill 50 bucks!"

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