I mean what the hell are we doing here?
And why… why did I end up back here when all those other fellas didn’t?
I thought that. Every guy back has thought that.
But you’ve just got to pull yourself out of bed in the morning and get on with the day.
You do that enough times in a row, you forget some things.
For a while, anyway.
THE PACIFIC: 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY || Part Ten: Home (dir. Jeremy Podeswa), Aired May 16, 2010
“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow.”
- Carrie Fisher, 21/10/1956 - 27/12/2016
Just wanted to pay respect to everyone’s favorite princess!
If you fancy being on/off my taglist just send me an ask or comment this post :)
A lil Christmas present for my favourite person @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant 🎁💛 I made this quite some time ago and actually mailed it to her! I’m so happy you liked it, Angie, and that you have something that reminds you of me :) I love you
If you fancy being on/off my taglist feel free to send me an ask or comment this post :)
Howdy! I'm SO excited to have come across your blog and super psyched to start reading through your writing ;) I wanted to make a request for my favorite wild boy, Mr. Bill Guarnere, with this prompt: "It was supposed to be you!” I was thinking about something where the reader and Bill were dating, but he broke it off because he was going to war. Reader becomes a nurse and they end up crossing paths again in Bastogne? Honestly I'm fine with whatever, so please change how you see fit! tyty <3
Two Years Apart
A/N: awww hi thank you so much, and let me say a pretty belated welcome to the fandom lol. I hope you don’t mind, I changed it to their meeting in hospital after Bill is injured, I hope you enjoy this!! Thank you @wecomrades for saving this one from complete disaster ILY 😂
Masterlist | Taglist
Read on wattpad or ao3 if you’d prefer
Word count: 1.5k
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You and Bill were polar opposites. He was outgoing, brash and loud, and you were quiet and sensitive. Your differences meant that you fit perfectly together: he drew you out somewhat and you were always there to calm him down. Your relationship moved fairly slowly; dating was certainly not something new to Bill, but being in love was and it scared the hell out of him. In fact, in the entire year you were dating, he could never once bring himself to tell you he was in love with you, too fearful of your reaction. To him, going to fight the Nazis was less terrifying.
And that’s just what he did.
On a hot summer day, Bill took you on what was meant to be the most romantic date you’d ever been on, complete with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and soft kisses. Despite the trouble he’d gone to in order to make the date perfect, it was far from enjoyable: Bill was soft around you, but never this soft. The pit of anxiety in your tummy only grew as he continued acting so out of character.
Then he told you.
He was enlisting in the paratroopers. He’d be leaving Philadelphia, and you, behind. You tried to tell him you didn’t mind waiting for him, but he was determined to, in his words, set you free.
You never saw him again, and you did your best to forget about him, although you found yourself listening eagerly to any news of him that his family passed on to yours.
///
“What’s this, huh, Bill?” Joe studied the well-thumbed photograph he’d just discovered among his friend’s belongings.
“Nothin’,” Bill lunged for the photo, but given that he was still bed bound, he found himself unsuccessful.
“How come I’ve known you for two years and I ain’t never seen a picture of this dame before? Why you been holding out on me?” Joe raised his eyebrow teasingly, but his questions came from a source of genuine curiosity.
“It ain’t none of your fucking business, Toye,” Bill again made an unsuccessful play for the photograph.
“Come on, Bill, you can tell me,” Joe carefully tossed the photo over to his friend, who snatched it up and didn’t let it out of his grasp.
“’Cause I know what the guys are like. You show ‘em a picture of your broad and they ain’t gonna drop it.” Bill’s voice was quiet now, and in that moment he was more serious than Joe had ever seen him.
“You can’t seriously be expecting me to believe that you’ve had a girl waiting for you all this time?”
“That ain’t funny, Joe, I already know that I ain’t no fucking catch,” Bill was starting to sulk a little now, and his friend knew him well enough to tell.
“No, I mean, the way ya carry on. Bill, you’ve done almost as much fucking in the past two years as Tab, and that sure as shit is saying something,” Joe chuckled.
“She ain’t my girl no more,” Bill finally confessed.
“She send you one of them letters?”
“Nah, she didn’t send no Dear Bill letter,” Joe grinned at his friend’s remark. “I chucked her before I left home.”
“What ya do that for? Bill, if I had a girl at home who looked like that, I wouldn’t throw her over for nothing,” Joe leaned over to nudge his friend, although he nearly fell out of bed in the process. Bill just shrugged, using it to signal his refusal to elaborate.
///
Two days later, Joe was sitting in the hospital cafeteria for the first time in his wheelchair, relishing in finally being well enough to leave his bed. The slop he was served with had never tasted so good to him, and it was whilst he was enjoying his normally inedible meal that he noticed you.
You could feel a pair of eyes burning into you as you helped a recovering soldier to eat his meal. It was a common occurrence given that most of the men here had gone a while without even seeing a woman, so you just ignored it. Once you’d taken your charge back to his bed, the matron came up to you.
“Nurse Y/L/N, please escort Sergeant Toye back to his bed?” The matron always had a habit of phrasing her orders as questions, but all those under her command knew better than to refuse her directives.
“Are you finished here, Sergeant Toye?” you asked, smiling down on the cheery soldier sitting in front of you. It was a rare but wonderful sight to see any soldier wounded as seriously as he was looking so happy.
“Yes, thank you, ma’am,” he replied as you began to wheel him away. “Sorry I was staring at you before, you see, I was trying to recognise you,” you quirked an eyebrow. The only time that soldiers admitted to staring at you was when they were trying to make a sleazy proposition, but it sounded like this particular soldier was going somewhere a little different with his confession.
“I don’t recall meeting you before.”
“No, we haven’t, but I’ve seen your photograph. You know my friend, Bill? Bill Guarnere.” At Joe’s response, you drew in a sharp intake of breath. After all you’d done in the past two years to forget Bill, even throwing yourself into nursing in a desperate attempt to rid him from your mind, here was his friend.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know Bill,” you couldn’t really think of anything else to say, and carried on wheeling Joe in silence.
“He’s in the bed next to me,” Joe decided to tell you just at the moment you reached his ward. You wondered for a moment whether you could get away with abandoning the wheelchair and its occupant in the corridor, perhaps pleading sickness, but you knew that the matron would see right through you and would be sure to give you a harsh punishment. Reluctantly, you wheeled Joe over to his bed, your gaze fixed upon the sheets, hoping that Bill wouldn’t pay any attention to you.
It wasn’t to be.
You heard a gasp and couldn’t stop yourself from looking up, seeing Bill for the first time in two and a half years. He still looked exactly the same, you noticed, although minus a leg. You tore your gaze away, and helped Joe onto his bed, before taking a few steps towards Bill.
“Hi.” Despite the shortness of your greeting, your voice trembled.
“Hi,” he returned, gazing at you like you were some kind of angel sent from heaven. “I missed you,” he admitted.
“Why’d you chuck me then?” You asked, and immediately mentally slapped yourself. You wanted answers but what difference would they make now, and you regretted your harsh tone.
“In case I didn’t make it home. So it would be easier for you,” Bill looked at you with a kind of sincerity that he’d never displayed before, even in his most tender moments.
“Oh, Bill,” you sighed, reaching forward to hold his hand. It was warm and calloused, and felt just the same as you remembered. “That’s so stupid,” you grinned. “You’re coming home anyway.”
“Yeah.” The two of you lapsed into silence, the air thick with the things that you both wanted to say, but neither of you having the courage to do so. Eventually Bill broke the silence.
“You met anyone else?”
“No,” you chuckled. “I’ve not even been on a date, I signed up to train as a nurse just after you left and ever since I’ve been too busy to think about that sort of thing. Besides… I guess I was still stuck on you,” you admitted, and Bill couldn’t stop a goofy grin from covering his face. “What about you?” Your nerves caused your voice to shake slightly as you asked the dreaded question.
“No one in particular,” he said, and you both knew what he meant. You nodded, trying not to get upset. “It was supposed to be you! I mean, I could pretend I was back in Philly in your arms and I didn’t have to worry about nothing no more. It was the closest I could get to you,” he confessed.
“I see,” your voice quivered a little.
“Can I tell you about my buddies I made?” Bill was just as desperate as you were to change the subject. “You already met Joe over there, but there’s a lot of real good guys in Easy Company, huh, Joe?” Bill called across to his friend.
“Tell her about Luz,” was the response. And Bill did. He told you about his friends, and it was like old times, seeing him laughing and joking.
It came to an end all too soon, when the matron found you and gave you a stern dressing down for neglecting your duties. Bill’s face fell when he realised that you would have to leave his bedside, but you promised to return just as soon as you could. You let the man you love go once, but you weren’t going to make the same mistake again.
The men of Easy Company, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, US Army, came from different backgrounds, different parts of the country. They were farmers and coal miners, mountain men and sons of the Deep South. Some were desperately poor, others from the middle class. One came from Harvard, one from Yale, a couple from UCLA. Only one was from the Old Army, only a few came from the National Guard or Reserves. They were citizen soldiers.
i was tagged by @cap-n-stuff to do this!! love youuu
Rules: Post an out of context spoiler or Big Climactic Line from your WIP and tag whoever you want. Then, enjoy as people wildly guess what’s going on.
here you go :)
“Just this once Agent. You wouldn’t like it if I blew your cover to this entire event would you? Then it’d be your head on a platter next time.”
tagging: @space-helen @vintagelavenderskies and any other writer that wants to!
KRYSTA AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FRIEND!!! you know i love indulging in these sm!!! 🥺💕
NO ROOM FOR MY EMOTIONS, excerpt
“ What are you doing?” Lip managed out, watching her with wide eyes, as she brushed her hair behind her ear.
“ Improvising.” she said, and then took off, up along the side slope of the dike, pistol withdrawn, as her neck craned upwards.
i’ll tag! @rogue-sunday @julianneday1701 @adamantiumdragonfly @easy-company-tradition @iilovemusic12us @liebgotttme @soldiers-and-medics @anthrobrat @papersergeant-pencilsoldier and anyone other writers who wish to share out there!!
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He cried, face blushed with rage, fist splattered in blood. “This is exactly the shit we’ve been fighting for!”
Tagging these darlings… @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @lizofalltrades @zim-zam-goddamn and anyone else who wants an excuse to have a go at this! Feel free to say I tagged ya LOL
“You can feel free to stay here behind your walls, if that’s what makes you happy. But I’ve seen enough death for a hundred lifetimes, and if I’ve got to cause a little more to stop the rest, I’ll do it. So I’ll be seeing you around.”
Tagging @wecomrades, @fortheloveofgeek, and anyone else who’d like to do it!!
Requested by @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant I love you Malarkey of my heart, I hope you like it 💛
“The knock on the door came in the middle of the night of December 18. That knock opened the door to the worst misery of my life. When you think about it, that knock has haunted me for more than six decades. A knock I wished to God would never have come.” - Donald Malarkey
If you fancy being on my taglist feel free to send me an ask or comment this post! ✨
Rules: List your favorite character from 10 different fandoms then tag ten people
Cora Crawley - Downton Abbey
Eugene Roe - Band of Brothers
Tracy Lord - Old Hollywood
Villanelle - Killing Eve
Neville Longbottom - Harry Potter
Polly Grey - Peaky Blinders
Daniel Jackson - Saving Private Ryan
William Schofield - 1917
Princess Anne - The Crown
Captain Holt - Brooklyn Nine Nine
Tagging (if you wanna) @wecomrades @stressedinadress @wereinadell @tvserie-s-world @s-ara-bel @wexhappyxfew @easy-company-tradition (I’m tired and can’t think of 10 people lol)
Thank you @wecomrades for fact-checking this and for very kindly pointing out a glaring error that I have since patched (half-assedly, but still)
You weren’t the biggest fan of what you saw when you checked your appearance in the cracked mirror inside the half-destroyed house you’d be spending the night in. Your hair was limp and dirty, the circles beneath your eyes darker than you’d expected even knowing you were sleep-deprived, and your cheeks had taken on an unfamiliar hollowness, no doubt from being on your feet for most of every day without enough food to make up for all the energy you expended. But you were in one piece, and for being where you were, that would have to be enough. You tucked a few loose strands of hair under your headscarf, and straightened the necklace that still felt foreign, the chain as light as the touch of a feather every time it shifted against your skin. You reached up to touch its stone as you walked back outside, pulling your coat tighter around you as the cold wind nipped at your face and neck.
“There you are.” Bill was waiting at the aid station when you reached it, and to your surprise, you found he’d cleaned up, presumably as well as he could given the circumstances. His face was mostly clean-shaven, a couple small cuts betraying the extent of his efforts, and his uniform, while far from clean, had wet spots in place of stains he’d tried to clean off with varying levels of success. What looked like two blankets were draped over his shoulder, and his pockets were bulging.
“Thought I’d run off?” you asked.
“Nah, just figured you were gettin’ pretty for our date,” he said, “Not that you needed to.”
You ignored the little flutter in your chest.“You clean up all right yourself.”
“Why thank you,” he said. “Had to skip a few steps of my usual toilette, but what’re you gonna do about it? This ain’t exactly the Ritz anyway.”
“I’m impressed,” you said, though it was more by the fact that he’d tried at all than by what the results were. To be entirely honest, you had been becoming increasingly uncertain whether you should have said yes to this date - or whatever it was - after he had left earlier, the most rational part of your brain telling you that you were being unprofessional and that he might just want to get laid, but he’d already presented evidence to the contrary, and this stacked more proof onto the pile.
“You hungry?” he asked, pulling a tin of rations from one of his pockets.
“For mystery meat, always,” you said, and he chuckled, tossing you a can.
“C’mon, I got a place we can go.”
You followed him down the main road, past several soldiers on guard, and then down a side street, where he nodded toward an inset doorstep; it was just wide enough for the two of you, and clear of rubble - you wondered if he’d come by earlier to clear it out. It was close enough to the rest of the company for some level of security, but tucked away enough to provide a little privacy, and when you sat down in it, elbow to elbow with Bill, his proximity to you ignited your nervousness all over again. “You don’t mind gettin’ a little cozy, do you?” he asked as he scooted back a little further, leaning against the door. “Figured it’d be good for keeping warmth in, and all.”
“Oh, is that it?” you teased. “Just want to keep the warmth in, huh?”
“‘Course,” he said, faking offense at your doubtfulness. “What’re you trying to imply? I ain’t never been called anything less than a gentleman.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Now I know that’s a lie, and lying’s not very gentleman-like, if you ask me.”
He took the can of rations from your hand and began to open it for you. “This make up for it?”
You considered whether you should let him off easy, and then decided to. “Sure.”
“Good.” He handed you the opened can, and you pulled your multi-tool from your pocket, unfolding the spoon to begin eating.
“So,” you said after you swallowed your first bite. “What’s your history?”
“This a job interview or something?” he asked, and you shrugged.
“Maybe.”
That made him smile, and he took a bite of his food, swallowing quickly, before answering. “Well, ma’am,” he emphasized the word, “I’m the youngest of ten. Grew up in South Philly. Dropped out of high school after Pearl Harbor to go build tanks. Ma didn’t like that too much, so I finished school and worked by night. Same year I volunteered for this shit-” he gestured vaguely at the mess around you, “-and you know the rest.”
“Sounds pretty busy, finishing school and working nights,” you commented, impressed by his dedication.
He shrugged. “I wasn’t the only one doing it.”
That was it, you realized - that was why you were out here with him, because under all the bluster and sweet-talking, he was a kid from the States, just like you, just trying to do the right thing. He didn’t think he was anything that special, but you’d heard plenty about him that he didn’t say himself, and you knew that he was. It didn’t hurt that he knew how to make you laugh until your sides hurt, either. “How about you?” he asked, stirring his food and scooping up another bite, not noticing that you’d been staring at him, which you only realized when he broke the silence. “What’s your story?”
You told him, but speaking about your hometown was bittersweet. It had been nearly a year since you’d seen it now, what with training and then deployment, and you found yourself hurrying to finish the tale, wanting to get your mind off the place you missed so dearly.
“Ain’t too easy thinking about it now, is it?” he said once you’d finished, and you nodded, surprised by how easily he’d read you.
He looked down, scuffing the toe of one boot in the dust. “Helps me remember what the hell I’m doing out here, though.”
He was right - that was the only good way to look at it - perhaps through that lens you could remember your home a little more sweetly, and you nodded, sitting back to watch the sky, in which a weak sun was setting.
“Real cheerful pair, aren’t we?” he commented, “Actin’ like a couple of salty old timers, talking about the good old days.”
You chuckled. “You’ve got a point. But I got something that might cheer us up.” You withdrew the bottle of Scotch from inside your coat and Bill’s eyes lit up.
“Excellent.”
A few shared sips of the liquor began to loosen your tongue and lift your spirits and soon you were chatting comfortably again, laughing as Bill recounted stories of the mischief he’d frequently perpetrated as a child (which didn’t surprise you) and soon he began to poke you for stories of your own. “C’mon, you’re telling me you never got in trouble? Never snuck out? Egged a house? Nothin’?” There was so much disappointment in his eyes as you shook your head that you were tempted to make something up just to make him laugh, but you discarded the notion to stay honest.
“I was a pretty good kid.”
“Boring,” he said, shaking his head as he sat back and took another sip from the bottle.
“No it’s not!” you exclaimed indignantly, and then a memory came back to you. “Oh, I got something.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “Let me guess, you, uh... Put out the silverware in the wrong places? Kept a library book past its due date?”
“Oh hush,” you said, and his teasing turned to laughter. “Or else I won’t tell you.”
“All right, all right, what?” he said, and then fell silent, although there was still a smile on his lips, his cheeks rosy above the turned-up collar of his coat.
“When I was a kid, my parents bought me a bike for my ninth birthday,” you said. “I’d outgrown my old one, and I was going to get passed down my sister’s, but she left it in the driveway once and my dad drove over it on his way to work-” that pulled a burst of laughter from Bill, “-so they had to get me a new one. It was my first day riding it, and I was going fast; you know how when you get a new bike and everything’s all new and greased up well, you can really fly?” He nodded. “Well, I was doing that, whipping down the sidewalk. It’d rained the day before and there were a few puddles, but I didn’t really care since I was wearing stuff I didn’t mind getting dirty.”
“I don’t know where this is going, but it ain’t gonna end well, is it?” Bill asked as he passed you the bottle.
“No, it’s not.” You took a sip of the burning liquid and continued. “I couldn’t see one of our neighbors walking down to the sidewalk because they had a tall hedge at the edge of their property. So I didn’t think much of the puddle in front of their house. As it happened, I flew through that puddle right as Mr. Becker got to the sidewalk in a white flannel suit.” Bill laughed gleefully. “Well, it wasn’t so white after that. He started yelling and I got scared and rode like hell all the way home. Guess I thought I was going fast enough he didn’t see my face, but that was dumb ‘cause he only lived five houses up the block and he knew exactly who I was. He came and talked to my parents and I got my bike taken away for three weeks.”
“Wow,” Bill said, laughing. “I guess you aren’t a perfect angel after all; I’m impressed!”
“I s’pose so,” you said. “Happy now?”
“Yeah, I was trying to figure out if you really stand on as high a pedestal as I thought.” He wasn’t looking at you, focused instead on unscrewing the cap from the bottle of Scotch, but you were watching him, curious.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.
“Well, just that you seem a little more human now,” he replied, and when he met your eyes and saw the confusion on your face, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s a good thing.”
“Thanks?”
He chucked, nodding. “You’re welcome.”
The sun was sliding down toward the horizon rapidly, its weak light dying, and you nodded toward the blankets, which still hung over Bill’s shoulder. “Can I have one of those?”
“For a fee,” he said with a wink.
“Yeah? Do you accept chocolate?”
“It’s my number one form of currency these days,” he said, handing you one of the blankets as you withdrew a chocolate bar from one of your outer pockets and began to peel it open, tearing back the paper. You broke off a chunk and held it out to him, but instead of using his hands, which he had just slipped back into his pockets, he opened his mouth expectantly, and you placed the chocolate in it, cringing at the strong alcohol smell that his breath carried.
“What?” he asked as he bit down. “I got bad breath or something?”
“Flammable, more like,” you said, breaking off a piece of chocolate for yourself.
The pair of you sat in comfortable silence then, your head resting against the door, and the blanket pulled tight around your shoulders. It was a cold night, but remarkably still, and the temperature was much more tolerable in the absence of wind. The sun set quickly as you shared the dessert, and soon full dark had fallen.
Bill pulled a pair of cigarettes from the pack in his pocket, and was searching for his lighter when a familiar fwoomp sounded from somewhere too close by, followed half a second later by another, and you barely had a chance to react before the first mortar landed just twenty feet away, exploding in flame and dirt and flying rocks, and Bill threw himself over you, crushing you back against the door, his body shielding yours as a second, and then third mortar exploded across the street. But you were barely thinking of the danger once the initial shock had passed, and the mortars’ impacts slowly moved away; instead the blood pumping through your veins, the thoughts rushing through your head- they were mostly because of Bill, how he’d reacted instantly to cover you, protecting you without any thought for his own well-being. The mortars fell farther and farther from you, and you knew the Germans didn’t really know you and he were right there - they were just trying to cause any damage they could and keep the troops there on their toes, but it didn’t stop the pounding of your heart, especially when you realized how closely Bill’s body was still pressed against yours even after the last mortar exploded and silence fell, his breath hot across your cheek as he said, “You okay?”
“Fine,” you said. “You?”
“Still in one piece, far as I can tell.” He pushed himself back a little, and steadied himself, his face just centimeters away; his gaze caught yours, and instantly you were drowning in his warm, dark eyes. He paused there for a long moment, a moment in which your heart clenched and that instinct you’d been pushing away all night told you to go ahead and make a move, but by the time you’d resolved to, the moment had already broken and he was shifting himself off you, settling back down on the stones. “Damn Krauts; never lettin’ us get a moment’s peace,” he grumbled.
You looked at him, saw the disappointment in his eyes as his hands fell into his lap, one thumbnail scratching at a rough patch on the other. You felt certain then, or at least, as certain as you thought you were going to feel, and you put away your inhibitions and let yourself speak the words on your lips.“What do you need a moment’s peace for?”
He looked over at you then, and you could read every emotion that passed across his face in the space of just a couple seconds. At first, just interest, his eyebrows raised slightly. Then a spark of curiosity, of hope, followed rapidly by uncertainty, and then, when you held his gaze, sureness, followed by…. A smirk? “You sure know how to manipulate a guy into making the first move,” he said, and then sat back, surprising you.
“I… what?” You’d been expecting him to kiss you, and you were so prepared for it, your brain lagged in adjusting when his actions diverged so sharply from the course you’d expected.
“I ain’t doing it,” he said, crossing his arms, and then his ankles, the picture of stubborn resolution, his gaze fixed on the hovel across the street. “I’m not gonna try and kiss you, just so you can pull back and act all hard to get. I know how you girls are.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh you do, do you?”
He looked back at you, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t like that look. You look like you’re plotting something.” He hunched his shoulders in a little tighter as if to protect himself from you. “You gonna stab me and steal my money?”
“What money?” you said, laughing, but when he opened his mouth to protest, an indignant expression on his face, you surged toward him and cut him off with a kiss, pressing your lips firmly to his, and he stiffened, obviously startled, and then his posture softened, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him from your uncomfortable crouched position. He tasted like whiskey and chocolate, but that wasn’t what was so intoxicating about the kiss. You settled in his lap, your arms falling about his neck, one hand pulling off his helmet so you could push your fingers through his short hair as his chapped lips caressed yours, soft yet passionate. “You still think you know everything about me?” you murmured as he tugged your hair just hard enough to pull your head back, exposing your throat for him, his lips pulling a sound from you that made your cheeks redden, and you squeezed your mouth shut as he chuckled against your skin, kissing the spot he had just nipped.
“Maybe a little more than you’d like.” His voice was deep and quiet, and it alone would have been enough to make you shiver. Combined with what he was doing to you, it was nearly overwhelming, so you let your eyes close as he pulled you in a little tighter and slipped an arm inside your coat to wrap around your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there.
He stopped suddenly, and you opened your eyes, suddenly self-conscious, but when you looked at him, he was just smiling at you, the affection in his gaze so genuine it made your chest feel tight. “What?” you asked.
“Nothin,’” he said. “Just didn’t think joining the Army’d end me up with the prettiest girl on the western front in my lap.”
You felt your already flushed cheeks grow hotter. “You’re just saying that.”
“Think what you like; I’ll find a way to convince ya,” he said, and your heart jumped, and you leaned down to kiss him again. You knew the whiskey made you bolder than you usually would have been, but somehow, in this moment of peace, carved out from months of violence, cold, and fear, you had no doubts anymore about what you were doing. Bill had a big attitude, but it was one of the things you liked about him, and beneath all the big talk was a good man. A very good man.
“Guarnere!” Bill pulled back from the kiss, groaning at the sound of Malarkey’s voice somewhere nearby and you slipped off him, instantly missing his touch, and also his warmth as the cold night wrapped around you again. “You down here?” Malark’s voice was at the end of the side street now, and Bill sat forward, sticking his head out of the doorway.
“What?”
“Lip wants you for something. Sorry to interrupt whatever you got going on here.” He said the last with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, and Bill nodded.
“I’ll be right there.”
“All right.” As Malarkey’s footsteps retreated, Bill looked back at you, his expression equally frustrated and apologetic.
“Don’t worry about it,” you said before he had a chance to speak. “We’ll do this again, yeah?”
Your words seemed to restore his good spirits, and there was a suggestive twinkle in his eye when he said, “Yeah, minus Malark cutting in.” He stood, extending a hand to you and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. You didn’t stop yourself, letting your momentum carry you forward to press a kiss to his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a tight squeeze before he released you so you could walk out to the street.
“‘Night, Bill,” you said as you reached the main road, and he blew a kiss over his shoulder as he walked away, a swagger in his steps. It was then that you realized you’d never even thanked him for covering you when the mortars came in. But it could wait for next time.
favorite movie/s: the lost boys, jojo rabbit, dazed and confused, star wars: the empire strikes back, the goonies, it (2017), the ‘burbs, the breakfast club, mean streets, and american graffiti
favorite band/s: paramore, florence + the machine, hozier, first aid kit, 5sos (do some of these count idk)
favorite decade: it’s kind of a toss up! probably 1960s or 1970s - i really like 1940s history and music too
day or night: night
nicknames: amz by my family and most of my friends
zodiac: scorpio
mbti: infj
favorite vehicle: volkswagen buses!!!
pets: a black labrador named Dozer 😊
Tagging (if you want to): @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @wecomrades @wereinadell @dreamingundone @a-beautiful-struggle-of-life
Favourite movie/s: ouch, too many! Everytime I get asked this I suddenly can’t remember any hahah let’s see, Ten Inch Hero, Hacksaw Ridge, Hamburger Hill, The Winter Soldier, Lord of the Rings the Two Towers, The Green Mile, Patch Adams, Perlasca, Flags of our Fathers
Favourite band/s: Mumford and Sons, Kodaline, The Andrews Sisters, Lowden Swain, Radio Company, Linkin Park
Favourite decade: 40s 💛
Day or night: Day!
Nicknames: my closest friends call me Lins, and one of my best calls me Lilly
Favourite movie/s: omg so many haha, the philadelphia story, bringing up baby, the awful truth, top hat, the lady vanishes, my man godfrey, his girl friday, 1917, so many more oh films haha
Favourite band/s: any of the big bands of the ‘20s ans ‘30s!
Favourite decade: hmmmm I think the ‘30s but I also love the ‘20s and ‘40s!
Day or night: night
Nicknames: ange, angie and joy (my nana and one of my closest friends)
Zodiac: cancer
Mbti: okay I don’t really know it’s either infp or infj, it gave me two different results 😂 I went with infp but it could be either lol
Favourite vehicle: I’ve never thought about this lmao, I’d have to say those luxury sleeper trains like the orient express!
Pets: sadly none :(((((((
Tagging (if you wanna) @wereinadell @tvserie-s-world and anyone else who wants to!
Thank you for the tag Francy !! @tvserie-s-world 💕
Favourite movie/s: I have so many! a couple of them are Stand By Me,The Sandlot,Dead Poets Society,Bill and Ted’s excellent adventure, American Graffiti, The Man from Uncle,It,Indiana Jones,The Lost Boys,The Outsiders,The Goonies,Back to the Future,Better Watch out,Little Shop of Horrors,Hail,Ceasar,The Riot Club,Rebel Without a Cause ,the Wanderers,Vast of The Nights,Star wars,Jersey Boys….any many many others
Favourite band/s: The Beach Boys ! ,Abba,The Monkees,The Four Seasons ,The Animals,Fleetwood Mac,The Beatles, The Supremes,The Shirelles,
Favorite decade: I love the 40s-80s, especially the 50’s & 80’s
Day or night: night
Nicknames: friends and family sometimes call me sarita, sarbear by sam, and that’s it but I love when people give me nicknames in case anyone ever wants to call me by a nickname 😂
Zodiac: virgo
Mbti: Isfj
Favourite vehicle: even though I don’t drive or know anything about cars I’ve always loved cadillacs
Favorite movie/s: 1917, Newsies (1992), Robin Hood: Men In Tights, Inglourious Basterds, Pirates of the Caribbean (w/ the trio, On Stranger Tides and DMTNT are okay but not my favorite), Bill (2015)
Favorite band/s: the Newsies cast. hands down.
Favorite decade: 40s. Victorian era comes a close second.
Day or night: night
Nicknames: my friend dubbed me Tiny Purple on a field trip once (yes, i do respond to it even tho no one has officially called me it except for the friend)
Thank you for the tags @zim-zam-goddamn and @wecomrades :D
Favorite movie/s: The Patriot, Secondhand Lions, We Were Soldiers Once, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, The Magnificent Seven (both versions), Django Unchained, and The Great Escape (not necessarily in that order)
Favorite band/s: The Dropkick Murphys
Favorite decade: 1940′s, 1770′s (sorry, I couldn’t pick one :P)
Day or night: both for different reasons lol - day bc I get lots of work done and feel productive, night because if it’s dark I feel like I can relax cause my work must be done.
Nicknames: Knives is an old one, Barebow according to my archery coach, “nerd” according to my friend group (accurately)
Zodiac: Saggitarius
MBTI: This seems to keep changing, but ENFJ
Favorite vehicle: 1968 Mustang Fastback (Just look up the Bullitt Mustang)
Pets: Two cats and a salamander! :)
Tagging @wexhappyxfew, @anngelicacosplay-love, and @lyselkatz
Tag 9 people you’d like to get to know/catch up with.
I was tagged by: @teenytinylion and @rubinecorvus thank you!
3 ships: I'm not much of a shipper but my heart is weak for "profound bonds" and transcending love/relationships of all natures. There's also a good chance I let myself dragged on board if there's well crafted chemistry/characters dynamics in a fanfic.
Last song: Endgame - Aviators
Last film: I just cried my eyes out watching A Christmas gift from Bob
Currently reading:
Hang Tough (Dick Winters' WWII letters)
Unlikely liberators (Nissei soldiers of the 442nd in ETO)
Victory Girls, Khaki-Wackies, and Patriotutes (WWII regulation of female sexuality)
A streetcat named Bob (rereading for the 10th time)
Currently watching: feel-good rerun of Pushing Daisies and Doctor Who 2005 (s1-4)
Currently consuming: a shot of Chartreuse liquor.
Currently craving: getting out of my own head Taïwanese spicy fried chicken
Tagging: @papersky-pencilstars @fromcrossroadstoking @wecomrades @heirsoflilith @jossujb @speirtongirl @basilone @suckmysalad if you wish to play 😊
Guarnere has been a long time coming, but I finally got around to him. He was the first enlisted man I could recognize in the series, so he’s one of my favorites.
Just call me Helmet Girl because I’ve drawn so many helmets this year I don’t even know
@a-beautiful-struggle-of-life thank you so much for the tag! this was really cute!!
Tagging (if you wanna!): @dearscone @punkgeekchic @achillesmercury1996 @wecomrades @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @s-ara-bel + anyone else who’d like to do this :)
I was tagged by @dearscone to post my top 7 albums - thanks Kristen!! 💓
Here’s the link!
I’ll tag (if you want to!): @punkgeekchic @s-ara-bel @blueeyedrichie @a-beautiful-struggle-of-life @a-big-ball-of-idk @wecomrades @headfullofnargles @scarecrowmax + anyone else who’d like to do this :)
Thank you @zim-zam-goddamn and @wecomrades for the tags!! Tagging @fortheloveofgeek, @anngelicacosplay-love, @lyselkatz and whoever else might like to do it!
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
germansingergirl
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
janainaart
titsay
