Definitely not me focusing on the fact that next week Lucy is going to be in another life and death situation and Tim has another opportunity to simultaneously freak out over her safety while actively trying to save her.
Pairing: George Luz x OFC
Summary: Post-war, George accompanies Josephine home, and they both find themselves trying to figure out how to go on. Partly viewed from an outside perspective.
Author’s Note: I am nervous to post this! My first George-centric fic. Thank you to @serasvictoria for reading this over in the early stages and also to @basilone for assuring me this wouldn’t suck.
Margaret Bradford barely recognizes her daughter when she steps off the train, uniform hanging listlessly on her body, hair cut short.
For being only twenty-three, she looks years older. World weary already.
The train makes a screeching iron-on-iron noise when it pulls away, and she flinches slightly, some of the men around her doing the same, but trying their best to hide it.
It’s then that her mother realizes one of the men near her is with her, carrying her duffel and speaking to her quietly as they try to spot anyone she recognizes. It makes something in her mother’s heart clench - seeing the way his free hand hovers at her elbow, as if he’s ready at any second to catch her, as if he’s had to steady her a hundred times before.
When their eyes finally meet, she feels a piece of her heart finally click back into place, now that she can see with her own eyes that her daughter is alive.
Tears fill both their eyes, and then suddenly they’re embracing. They clutch each other, arms banded tight.
The man lingers in the periphery, looking a little uncomfortable, but there’s something else there – happiness? Relief?
“Mama.” She croaks, her voice hoarse and thick with tears.
“Josephine.” Her name is so soft, but so heavy with meaning. The name that’s been on repeat in her mind for the last three years, a mother never not thinking of her first born child.
Dick acquires a farm in Pennsylvania. Lewis tags along and hijinks ensue.
TW // mentions of animal death
General:
Dick’s uncle dies and leaves him a 40 acre property.
This is a few months after everyone returns from the war and Dick isn’t totally sure of what he wants to do long-term. He’s working at Nixon Nitration Works. Lewis is at his wit’s end with his dad so he convinces Dick to take him up to the farm in Lancaster County.
They arrive in April and begin to set things up.
The old farmhouse needs a good bit of work done. Dick has his hands tied with the sheep so Lewis convinces him to hire a construction company… Enter Eugene Roe. He’s moved to Philly to be with Babe and has just begun work as a contractor. Happy to hear from his old COs, he comes down for the week and does the work at a discounted rate. “That’s no way to run a business,” Dick tries to reason. “Payin’ full price is no way to treat an officer, sir,” is Eugene’s simple response.
They spend their first summer raising sheep and discovering that Lewis isn’t worth his salt as a farmer. He gets so bored that he begins to fool around with writing and winds up getting a job with the local newspaper. He’s also working on a novel (he refuses to let Dick read it. 50/50 chance it’s just Nix thirsting over Dick’s farmer biceps).
There are several fields that Dick rotates the sheep through to keep them from overgrazing. The fences are barbed wire at the moment, but Dick is working on financing wooden fencing in the near future.
There’s also a paddock that stems off from the barn. It’s got wooden fencing. It holds the male animals that can’t be left with the females and/or the sheep.
There’s a six-stall barn that routinely holds 2 horses, 2 donkeys, and 1 cow.
Farm Characters:
Ike, a purebred Border Collie that Lewis bought with the intention of using as a sheepdog, but spoiled him rotten instead. He was named as a joke but now everyone salutes him.
Ginger, an Aussie/Border Collie/hound mix with a bite out of her ear. She only takes commands from Dick, and has a natural aptitude for herding sheep. She was adopted from the local shelter once Dick realized that Ike is more of a family dog.
The sheep: Lewis and Dick keep Cheviot sheep. They are used mostly for wool, but some are slaughtered for meat.
Dick is awful with names (“Dick, you can’t name a lamb Martha.”) so Lewis is in charge of naming all the sheep. The ewes are named after things found in nature (Lily, Cherry, Willow) and all the rams are named after food (T-Bone, Meatball, Ribeye) because they are more often sent to slaughter. Lewis claims to be annoyed by the sheep. He denies claims that he snuggles with them on cold nights.
They have two horses. Only one is needed but “all horses need friends, Nix.”
Billie is Dick’s horse. She’s a gorgeous Palomino that Dick adopted from the ranch owner next door. Dick rides her to do perimeter checks and occasionally to herd the sheep or help out one of the neighbors with cattle herding.
Dusty is Nix’s horse. He’s a Cleveland Bay and named after The Lone Ranger’s horse. Nix and Dusty follow along on Dick and Billie’s rides. Since Dusty is so friendly, Nix lets all of their friends’ kids ride him when they have visitors.
Dusty is not gelded. The horses are kept in separate stalls and remain in two separate enclosures when they are grazing. Nevertheless, there is a foal on the way. Lewis cannot contain his smile when Dick tells him. Many jokes are made about Billie being a loose-moraled mare, which result in Dick turning bright red and making Lewis sleep on the couch.
Nelson and Frankie are the donkey jack pair. They live on Dusty’s side of the fence because (1) they like to fight the sheep and (2) they have a talent for escaping from the sheep enclosure.
Nellie, their milk cow. Dick finds her as a calf at a livestock auction and falls in love with her big brown eyes. She rides home in the shotgun seat of his truck and blends in seamlessly with the rest of the farm animals. She’s best friends with Ike. They cuddle together and she follows him around when he’s in the paddock. She lives with Dusty.
A/N: Sorry if this is kind of short. I plan to write HCs for every season. Let me know if you’d like a one-shot!! I’d love to write Winnix in farmcore domestic bliss. Also if I got any details wrong I’m sorry; I’m sort of a city girl so I had to do a lot of Googling fdkslajdklfdsa
I love the fact that the strongest person in the MCU is a mentally unstable 32 year old who makes self insert Sitcom AU FanFiction about her robot husband
Ooh! Can I request some Liebgott with the prompt “of course it meant something”? Pretty please?
prompt: "of course it meant something."
joe liebgott x reader
a/n: thank you kindly for sending somethin' in luv! idfk what this is but, here have it!
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You weren't sure where they'd found all the booze. But it flowed through the night as the sun left the sky. The company's spirits brightened the inky night and you were delighted to have taken part in the celebration.
The promise of home was about to be made. The practice of polishing guns had been forgotten. And there was nothing to do, truly, besides, enjoy the last bit of time you were left with alongside the men with whom you'd made it this far.
One drink down and a bubbly haze coloured your vision as you admired your friends mucking about the parlour of the cottage you'd all been staying in. By morning you'd all up and leave like you gotten so good at doing. Only this time you'd each be going your separate ways... heading wherever home was.
It should've been more exciting. You should've joined in with everyone listing off their big plans, dreaming up dreams to make true. But you didn't want to think about what was next. You couldn't think of what was just ahead. Maybe that was a terrible habit you'd picked up somewhere back in between foxholes. But the same dread settled in your gut as thoughts of the near future came to mind. You swallowed another drink of liquor and cast your gaze to the company laughing together; sitting just on the outskirts to admire the scene.
Malarkey looked happy. Not as carefree as he had at the start of your knowing him. But far less plagued by darkness than he'd appeared not so long ago. His chuckles set your soul at ease, to know they were genuine.
Lipton looked tired. And you couldn't help but smile. He'd been tired for a while. But he was finally relaxed enough to let it show. You leaned closer to the armchair he'd slumped into and suggested he head to bed, saying he deserved rest more than anyone here.
Skip should've been here. Penkala too. You missed everyone who used to decorate spaces with their smiles and pass time with dumb jokes. And then you realized that very soon you'd miss everyone here just as well. Each man you'd come to know since the start of all this was about to become nothing more than a memory.
The thought ambushed your mission to remain steadfast to the moment. You sucked in a breath in hopes of washing away the dread that only seemed to cast darker shadows over your disposition. It was becoming a struggle to remain ever-present in the party that was in full swing by now.
And in a way, it seemed the party was only just beginning. Luz had made his way to stand on the coffee table, raising a glass to make his fourth toast of the hour- this time, to the sight of Martin carrying another set of bottles into the room. Some cheers and claps followed and the sound of collective mirth only served as a reminder that this was all really over.
"Maybe you're the one who needs some rest, huh?" Lipton's voice resonated in your ear as soon as the feeling of his hand on your shoulder did. And you realized your irrational fears had conjured up a sheen of tears you hadn't yet let fall but clouded your gaze evidently enough.
"I'm just gonna miss you guys is all." You shrugged the shoulder where his hand still rested, and his fingers squeezed tighter at your confession, as some kind of condolence. The lieutenant's gentle manner was interrupted then, by someone with a starkly enigmatic mien.
"Are you cryin'?" Joe asked in his usually distinctive tone, words strung together by drink. You couldn't help but chuckle, at the way he'd asked what he'd asked.
Joe abandoned the half-empty bottle in his grasp on a table just near and moved closer to you with a determination that made your heart skip a beat. Drunk or sober, you'd never been able to help the way you'd felt about Joe. Not to say you'd ever let your feelings so obviously show.
Lipton leaned away from you then, pretending to spark up a conversation with someone passing by. While Joe knelt in front of where you sat, biting back your feelings that were beginning to brew into one big dangerous storm of emotion.
You really couldn't afford to have Joe so close, tonight. You couldn't look right in his eyes, like you wanted. You could only stare at the hand he dared to place on your knee; as he cocked his head to try and see your face you attempted to hide away.
"Don't cry." He suggested through a smile, nearly letting a snicker escape too. This was what caused you to finally look up, to search his face in an attempt to place if he was making jest of your plight, or if he was really just that drunk. The latter seemed true, with the way Joe's eyes blinked slow and searched your own past a vitreous sheen.
"Don't cry." He repeated again in a whisper much more assured. The grin on his face dying away as his eyes stayed glued on yours. Funny, how his command did settle something within you, yet made you want to burst into tears all the same. You'd miss him most of all.
A faint few flashes of the days you'd plan your weekend passes together and the nights you shared beds of dirt flickered in the back of your mind, as you suddenly realized how close Joe was to you now. And like he knew you were thinking of broadening the space between the two of you, he closed it.
The press of Joe's lips against yours was a shock to your system. All your dread and fear halted as you processed what was happening. His kiss was brief and quick but not at all void. You knew it came from a place of well-meaning, somehow, but still; it wasn't right.
When he moved away, opening the space that belonged between the pair of you and kneeling further till his eyes met yours again, you were done for. All those feelings that had been halted by Joe's kind gesture flooded back tenfold and you couldn't hide the rush of tears any longer. You brushed away his hand, stood, and bolted for the nearest exit.
You thought you heard Joe ask you to wait up. You nearly ran into Bull on your dash away, and ignored his worried asking what the matter was.
"Okay, no more drinking," You heard Lipton declare, "It’s everybody's bedtime!" You heard a few chuckles and whines following his announcement just before you'd made it to the hall. You kept up your swift hurry with a hand shielding your tears and only let yourself start to lose it when you reached the room that belonged to you.
This wasn't how things were supposed to end. You were supposed to be glad for new beginnings. But everything you couldn't have seemed to suddenly plague you. Everything you'd tell yourself you'd worry about later, in the midst of the mission after mission; came bubbling up. You cried for one dozen reasons and let yourself keep on till your eyes grew heavy. Maybe by morning, you'd be able to move on, because you had to anyway.
///
You awoke early enough to be the first. Glad for the extra time to stroll toward the waterfront, and breath in some of the fresh morning air.
It was a new day. But it felt the same as so many others. You knew there were only hours left to spare in this chapter of your life. Yet you were still plagued by things that had and had not happened. You were still here.
You looked across the still blue lake and the soft green trees and listened to the dock creek under your feet, as it balanced and bobbed in the water. These were the things that calmed you. These were certainties. The colour of the trees and the rising of the sun. But then there were steps sounding on the dock you hadn't expected, and while it obstructed your state of taking in the scenery, you weren't surprised to be interrupted. You'd come to expect the unexpected over these years.
You turned from the end of the doc to find Joe lingering near the boards secured to the land. He looked vastly different from the night before, more put together, less wasted. He took a step closer as you cast your eyes to his feet, unsure of what to say to him, or how to act. Only a week before and you would've been able to trade chatter about your next mission or duty of the day. But now there was none of that sort of conversation to fall back on. There were only questions you'd never dreamed of asking, but one you knew was about to be addressed.
"Look, I'm sorry about last night." Joe started. You hadn't expected him to apologize. You hadn't even really wanted him too. And the fact that he did was the nail in the coffin that housed your trepidation. You bit your lip and turned away, holding back what you really wanted to say.
But Joe noticed your befuddled expression and apparently wasn't keen to let you sulk in silence. He stepped ever closer, the sound of his strides more assured as he asked what the matter was.
"I said sorry, what more can I do, huh? I didn't mean to upset you, you gotta know that-"
"I always wanted you to kiss me." You blurted, not quite facing him. Not quite meaning to expose your feelings either. But the regret that came after you spoke was distant, as a much stronger emptiness filled your gut. Everything was already over. Might as well have gone on confessing... "Only, you were drunk. So it didn't mean anything. And I'm upset because I wish it did...mean something."
You'd never spoken like this to Joe. You'd only ever traded jokes, or jabs or game plans. And now you were an hour from leaving him behind. This was the last of your knowing each other, and a silence followed your statement that brought back to life the regret you'd only just cast away.
Your heart ached and your eyes stung as you turned to face the water once more, the boards of the dock creaked and the sheer thought of Joe walking away was enough to make you break down. But then his voice called, just over your shoulder, stealing away your sorrows like his closeness had only the night before.
"Of course it meant something." Joe's voice demanded, thick with emotion you'd never heard him display.
When you turned your head and then your shoulders to face Joe and cast him a curious glare, the only way you could ask all the questions jammed in your head at once; he leaned in and kissed you again.
His hands held either side of your face as his lips pressed to yours with all the kind tenderness he'd displayed last night, and a new sort of urgent determination. You wised up to kissing Joe back, and thought of nothing but exactly that for what felt like forever.
He was the one to stop, to pull away and meet your eyes. His hands held your face, still, as his brow furrowed, and a small smile bloomed. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he seemed to take in the rest of your face. You stood entirely mesmerized by the man, like you always had been, only finally letting it show. That's when the sound of distant car doors slamming, and engines roaring to life sounded over the hill and past the trees you'd come out to admire one last time.
"Come on." Joe seemed to decide, letting his hands fall away, till one met yours. "Let's go home."
Joe laced his fingers through yours and led you away from the dock, toward the rest of the company starting to leave. And when thoughts of the future you'd soon be heading into started to flash through your mind, you welcomed them.
Jeez we’re sorry about all the big hiatuses that this blog keeps having. We have really busy lives right now. Take this big ass list of one-word prompts as an apology? And use ‘em how you will. Do whatever. Have fun.
I know some of us are still reading Franklin-adjacent books, some have moved on to Chernobyl-related books, and some might be reading entirely different subjects (what a novel concept…) But I feel like I’ve been reading the subject for more than a decade, and would be remiss not to recommend some titles that might increase understanding and appreciation for season 2 of The Terror.
Non-Fiction:
Midnight in Broad Daylight by Pamela Rotner Sakamoto.
Stubborn Twig by Lauren Kessler.
The Art of Gaman by Delphine Hirasuna.
Looking Like the Enemy by Mary Matsuda Gruenewald.
Infamy by Richard Reeves.
Fiction:
No-No Boy by John Okada.
Yoshiko Uchida’s chapter books including Journey to Topaz and Journey Home.
Great recommendations! I’m going to add a couple more from my shelf to this list:
They Called Us Enemy, by George Takei. A graphic novel based on his experiences as child at Rowher, in Arkansas. And, bonus, he’s on the show!
Honor by Fire: Japanese Americans at War in Europe and the Pacific, by Lyn Crost.
Double Victory: A Multicultural History of America in World War Two, by Ronald Takaki. This one is really interesting for anyone interested in what Luz’s family might be experiencing in California.
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