lewis-winters

[lewis-winters]

"Lesbian Weddings" by Wendy Jill York

source: The Femme Mystique, edited by Lesléa Newman

#photography #vintage photography #queer photography

[lewis-winters]

shoutout to my brother for setting me up for this

#me writing amabeal and serafina #ma'ams you are both INSUFFERABLE

[lewis-winters]

Caitlin Bailey, from Solve for Desire: Poems; “To G, after the party”

#caitlin bailey #poetry #people like us #natalie morse

[lewis-winters]

they’re the same picture

#masters of the air #mota #poly marge/gale/bucky please i am BEGGING #gale cleven is POLYAMOROUS AND BISEXUAL and he has a panic attack about it BECAUSE I SAY SO

[lewis-winters]

a fitzjames per episode → one. go for broke

#the terror #these gifs are so cleaaaarrrrr #brighter than my FUTURE #CRISP #CRISPY GIFS

[lewis-winters]

So I just saw a post by a random personal blog that said “don’t follow me if we never even had a conversation before” and?????? Not to be rude but literally what the fuck??????????

I’ve had people (non-pornbots) try to strike conversation out of nowhere in my DMs recently, and now I’m wondering if they were doing that because they wanted to follow me and thought they needed to interact first. I feel compelled to say, just in case, that it’s totally okay to follow this blog (or my side blog, for that matter) even if we’ve never talked before.

Also, I’m legit confused. Is this how follow culture works right now? It was worded like it’s common sense but is that really a thing?

[lewis-winters]

#band of brothers #not to dispute but like. sorry. harry is the id. #man literally kept getting demoted from First Lieutenant during basic bc he Would Not stop starting bar fights #lew in contrast has all his prep boy upbringing holding him up by very tenuous strings #but at least he's being held up

[lewis-winters]

okay but the prospect of a winnix emma adapt is amazing because harry??? as harriet?? or?? webster as elton?? and who for the love of god could be churchill

DOBIE!!!!!!!!

he has all the trappings of it-- deceptively charming, interestingly foreign, someone who catches Emma!Nix's eye but ultimately disappoints him!!

#ask

[lewis-winters]

I was gonna say Vote Emma Or Else but you know what?

Persuasion!Winnix also works, especially when you consider how petty and jealous Dick Winters can actually get.

#band of brothers #winnix #lewis nixon #dick winters #if any of you vote for P&P though I would KNOW none of you have actually read any austen #not to get snobby #but the flavor of P&P is so utterly Not winnix it gives me the ick #Emma!Lew and Knightly!Dick tho? fucking elite.

[lewis-winters]

gale + saying i love you

#baldur's gate 3 #GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET TWIRLING MY HAIR #I'M SO IN LOVE WITH HIM IT'S EMBARRASSING #HE'S A BUNCH OF PIXELS

[lewis-winters]

#edward? eat it #bc that's how i give ppl comfort #feeling bad? come over to my house we'll order some food or make some

[lewis-winters]

prompts!! i would like "did you mean it" for luzfostoye for 1000$ pls >:3

This is so unforgivably late for what it is, and I'm so sorry. On the other hand, the reason it is so late and not actually in an AU like promised is because it prompted me to write a bunch for the Pacific Rim AU, just not in any way that actually ended up adhering to the prompt. I will share that all with you if you want though <3. For now, please enjoy the only draft out of about fifteen that I was actually happy with!

...

It slips out before Arthur's really ready to say it, a half-breath of words that fall out of him as naturally as breathing, as cursing.

There couldn't have been a worse time, really, out in the open as they are, so close to where the rest of Company HQ is setting up in one of Haguenau’s abandoned buildings. Trucks still rattle past the alley, filled with men or food or ammunition. George's hand is still on his, the pack of cigarettes held between them, a slightly bewildered look on his face.

A few months ago it would've meant nothing, just an expression of Arthur's thanks for a gift from supply. The reply would be something flippant, laughing, and they'd barely remember it had been said. Since the church, (since Bastogne, since the foxhole, since Joe), though, things have been different. That kind of thing holds more weight.

George is still staring, so Arthur does what he does best and laughs it off, finally taking the pack of smokes and acting like he never said anything but thank you.

“Never thought I'd see Luckies again,” he says, putting one between his lips and lighting it.

Christ, but even that's charged now, Arthur thinks, remembering Christmas, one cigarette between the three of them, back and forth until it burned their fingertips. Joe had kissed him the next morning, on his way to patrol, when they thought George was still asleep next to them.

He hadn't been, but he didn't say anything about it until New Years Eve, when the shrapnel cut up Joe's arm and sent him off the line for the first time. Things changed after that, then changed again as Joe got sent away for good.

Thankfully George, eager to follow the lead Arthur's laid out, just laughs too. He pulls out his own smokes. Arthur's about to offer his lighter, like an apology, but George is faster. Before Arthur can react, he leans in and lights his own from the one hanging out of Arthur's mouth.

His hands are rough and warm on the sides of his face, same as when they had kissed in Rachamps, and Arthur almost loses his cigarette when he sighs into it. Then George is pulling away, and smiling at him through his own smoke, and Arthur thinks his slip has been forgiven.

Later, when Jackson is dead and Lip's fever has broken and second platoon have been ordered to get a full night's sleep, George sits with him as dawn breaks over the Moder and asks,

“Did you mean it?”

It's been a long two days, but Arthur doesn't need clarification. He also can't look at George. All he can do is nod, and look at the sunrise, the mocking tendrils of gold over the gray destruction beneath it.

When George's hand touches his this time, there's no Lucky Strike carton between them.

He doesn't say it back, and Arthur doesn't say it again.

#band of brothers #bob ocs #fic rec #people like us #george luz #ab foster #joe toye #luzfostoye #im still fucked over George doesn't say it back and Arthur doesn't say it again #like???? ALRIGHT #FUCK!!!! #they make me go crazy im so fucked up over them #SCREAAAAMMMSSS #the brain rot!! it is!!!! returning!!!!!!! #truly the most animated i've been in AWHILE

[lewis-winters]

I'm sorry this took so long @lewis-winters! I hope you like it, I apologise for the abrupt ending and the long wait!

Tw for some internalised transphobia, period typical transphobia and homophobia

♠ One character adjusting the other’s jewelry/neck tie/etc for nat/tab

"Oh, god, I don't know if I can do this."

Tab froze in front of the bathroom mirror, hand still in his hair.

"Honey?" He asked, raising his voice to be heard through the door.

When no response came, he stuck his head out into the bedroom, where Nat was getting ready. She was stood in front of the vanity, hands pressed flat to the table, staring at her own reflection. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was pressed into a thin line that showed the faint colour of her lipstick. She was Narcissus inverted, captured by her own image not by love but by fear.

"I can't. I can't, it's too damn much."

Nat's voice wobbled dangerously as she spoke, still fixed on the mirror. Tab felt his insides twist, her distress prickling at all of the tender parts of him that hated seeing her hurt. Immediately, he moved over to her side, hand hovering gently over her back.

"Woah, woah, Nat, sweetheart-"

She stood suddenly, forcing Tab back a pace.

"I don't-" Nat continued, voice strangling her words. "Floyd, I don't know if I can do this."

Fear was familiar to Tab. He'd seen it, felt it, tasted it. He'd held it in himself and watched it take over others, and seeing it lock Nat up like this was an agony in itself.

"Hey, it's alright," he tried to soothe her. "Nat, you're alright."

There was no need to ask what the issue was - this wasn't the first time they were going out in public together, but it was the first to someplace more formal than a bar. Nix had assured them the place wasn't classy enough to be off-putting (or overly critical of its patrons), but still there was a kind of visibility they hadn't faced head on before. The thin veil of plausible deniability their last outings had wrapped around them could not be used in the same way, and it had clearly just hit Nat like a ton of bricks.

She had folded her arms in front of herself protectively, one crossed over her stomach with the other elbow leaning on it, letting her spread her hand across her chest to toy with her necklace. It was beautiful, delicate and silver with a small crystal hanging from the center which she rolled between the pads of her fingers. A gift from Nix on her last birthday.

"We don't have to go," Tab assured her, trying to get her to meet his eye. "We can stay right here. I'm not going to force you into anything if you aren't ready."

The hand around her necklace tightened.

"That's not fair," she said tightly, closing her eyes. "That's not fair on you."

"Fair on- Nat. Come on. Don't do that. It's not exactly fair on you to push you out of the door if you're panicking," countered Tab. A frown burrowed into her features.

"I'm not panicking," Nat huffed, her eyes still shut. There was a long pause, and she cracked open her eyes slowly to look at Tab's unconvinced face. In her defense, some of the frantic tension had begun to leave her. "Okay, I'm panicking. I just- This feels- Not wrong, just..."

"Too much? Honey, if it's too much, please just say. Just say, and I'll drop it. There's always tomorrow. Or next week. Or next year. Hell, there's never if that's what would make you happy," Tab promised, reaching out to put his hands on her shoulders. They dropped a little, and Nat tilted her head back to breathe deeply.

"I just don't want to get us into trouble," she whispered. That unbearable tug of pain pulled up through Tab again, and he simply looked at her for a moment, took in the shine of her hair and the strong, beautiful, lines of her nose and cheeks, the baring of her throat as she looked up. Heat had flared up red on her face, shame and guilt colouring the skin. He wanted to chase it away, kiss it down and smother her with all the reassurance she needed, all the reminders of love and worth she could stand.

He wanted to tell her she was being ridiculous, that everything would be completely fine, but he hated making promises he couldn't be certain to keep, especially not to her. That was never a guarantee, not for them, never had been. Even long before he had known her name, these dangers and limitations surrounded their every step together.

Tab placed one hand on the base of Natalie's neck, gently nudging until she looked at him again. The corners of her eyes were growing damp.

"I love you," he murmured to her. His own voice trembled, just a little. "I love you, no matter what. And it wouldn't be your fault, even if we did, okay? Not at all. So if you don't want to go out, if you're anxious about it, that's fine, but I just wanted you to remember that."

Nat took in another deep breath. It shook as it went in, but came out in a long, steady, exhale. Her mouth stayed pressed into a thin line, but her eyes moved in the way they always did when she was struggling to find the right thing to say to him, the right way to respond to the love she never quite felt she deserved, and had no practice accepting.

As she worked it over, Tab slowly dragged his fingers back around her neck, following the thin chain of the necklace. Her tugging had worked the clasp to the front with the pendant, and he gently corrected it, their fingers brushing as he did so. When it was in place, he tucked a single lock of hair back behind her ear, leaning in so their noses barely brushed. There was still a bloom of red along her cheekbones, perhaps even deeper than before, but the shame that had flickered in her eyes above it had faded.

"I know," Nat whispered back at last. The words were warm against Tab's mouth. "I know."

#band of brothers #fic rec #people like us #natalie morse #floyd talbert #morbert #bob ocs #im feeling things again and all of them are painful

[lewis-winters]

nathan i am going to be insufferable now that you've posted that prompt list i hope you know

i'll send two, but you can pick just one if you wanna!:

♘ Cuddling in a blanket fort for arthur/george

♠ One character adjusting the other’s jewelry/ neck tie/ etc for nat/tab

Okay so this one got away from me a little, I apologise. And I know I said I'd post them both together, but this one got finished first and I was too desperate to share it to wait to finish the other! But it is coming!

♘ Cuddling in a blanket fort for arthur/george - quick tw for very light period typical homophobia and references to ptsd/insomnia

The motel wasn't the nicest place they had ever stayed.

It wasn't decrepit, exactly, or even particularly dirty, but the carpet was thin, and there were enough unusual stains in strange places that it lacked any element of invitation. However, it did have two beds and an attached bathroom, which was all the incentive George and Arthur had needed to take the room when they had pulled off the road after dark. They'd been driving for going on seven hours, and though it was far from the longest journey either of them had been on, neither had wanted to push on through the night to do the next five.

Arthur threw his bag down at the door, stretching until he heard a loud pop that made George wrinkle his nose.

"We risking it tonight?" He asked, tilting his head at the currently separated twin beds on either side of the room.

"Don't see why not. We gotta be on the road early if we want to make it to Lip's at a reasonable time, so we can have it put back in place before anything like housekeeping comes knocking," shrugged George. He flashed a smile Arthur's way before moving towards the nearest bed. Arthur's insides warmed and fizzed the way they always did in response to that smile, and he felt his own stretch his cheeks as he followed him.

"Let's get moving then, I'm beat."

"Oh, he's beat, says the man who didn't drive at all today," George teased, grabbing the head of the metal bedframe. Arthur clicked his tongue in mock irritation and got hold of the foot.

"I'll have you know I was doing plenty important work," he argued. They both started to pull.

"Sure thing, baby. Falling asleep before we even got out of Conneticut sure does sound-"

George cut himself off, both of them looking down with some confusion at where the frame hadn't budged an inch. They were on the smaller side, granted, but they had still been paratroopers. They were certainly strong enough to move a bit of metal with a mattress on top. Arthur rattled his end as George crouched to investigate.

"I think it's bolted down," he cursed, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Jesus. What the hell is happening around here to make them nail the goddamn beds down?" Arthur squawked.

"I don't know. People like us?"

It was said with a certain joking quality, but both men still grimaced at the way it fell flat. Sometimes it was hard to remember there was a completely different world outside of their apartment.

"Doesn't matter anyhow," Arthur muttered, kicking lightly at the bed. An old, familiar hum of injustice and frustration started up in the back of his chest, and he could feel it poisoning his mood alongside his tiredness, making him feel petulant and spiky. He just wanted to sleep with his arms around George and these beds were far too thin to accommodate two grown men, even as clingy as they were. "It's just one night."

"Yeah," George agreed quietly. He got to his feet, stretching his back until it cracked as loudly as Arthur's had. Both of them snorted, the tension evaporating. "You mind if I..?"

His head jerked towards the bathroom, and Arthur shook his head.

"Go for it. I gotta change anyway."

"Thanks."

By the time George came out, Arthur had stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, binder off and folded neatly with the rest of his clothes. The bathroom wasn't much better than the rest of the room; functional enough, but with thick rings of grime building along the edges. Even the light was less than agreeable, the harsh glow enough to ensure Arthur didn't look in the mirror for more than a few seconds when he went in to wash up. His hair was starting to grow out beyond it's usual mess, and he knew catching sight of himself in the mood he was already in would send him spiralling.

Jesus, but he was tired. George was right, he hadn't driven, but he hadn't been sleeping right over the last few weeks either. Moreso than usual. He had finally gotten to the point of being glad to crawl into bed, something he avoided unless coaxed by George, and now they were caught between either sleeping separately or nearly killing each other in the night. If they did end up using their own beds, Arthur knew he could kiss his chances of sleeping at all goodbye.

"Baby," he called out softly as he stepped back into the room. "What are we-?"

He stopped. He blinked. His tired mind tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It looked... remarkably like a blanket fort.

Both beds had been stripped of their bedding, and in the space between them, sheets had been strung to make a kind of canopy. Crouching a little, Arthur could see George laid out on the floor beneath them, pillow tucked comfortably under his head and smug smile shining out of his face.

"I believe you were gonna ask how we were sleeping tonight?" He grinned, patting the space next to him.

The absurdity of it broke through Arthur's surprise and he laughed, crawling under the sheet to join him. In lieu of trying to pull the mattresses onto the floor, George had used the quilts, and pulled the spare blankets they always brought when travelling to put over them for warmth.

"Should I even try asking?" Arthur laughed again, wriggling under one of the blankets. He immediately reached out for George, who just shrugged and wriggled closer until they were facing each other, an arm over each other's waists.

"You looked sad," he said simply. "And I didn't want to spend the night across the room from you. And then when I was moving the stuff to the floor, I thought 'fuck it, blanket fort'."

"Fuck it, blanket fort," Arthur repeated, words bubbling with amusement. That sour feeling from earlier was starting to dissipate, replaced with the usual rolling, giddy, warmth that stemmed from George's presence. They blended for a second, becoming a sharp needlepoint in Arthur's stomach, and he leant forward to steal a kiss, curling in a little tighter until they were practically sharing a pillow. "It was a good idea. Thanks. I didn't mean to look sad, I'm not, I promise. Just tired."

"Yeah, I know," George assured him gently, pressing his own kiss to Arthur's forehead. For a moment, Arthur wondered if he'd felt suddenly guilty for teasing him about sleeping in the car, but brushed the thought aside by slipping his leg between George's. Their shared warmth and the odd comfort of the sheet roof above them was making him drowsy, his tiredness winning above his usual hindbrain desire to be on alert.

"Goodnight George," he sighed, voice a little muffled from where his face had settled at his shoulder. "Love you."

"Love you too." There was a pause. "...but one of us has still got to turn out the light."

#band of brothers #fic rec #ab foster #george luz #luzfostoye #bob ocs #oh your backs tomorrow morning #UGH I love them still #this is like looking at a time capsule bc this was before we realized luzfostoye was such a good option that we had to make it canon #i care THEM #i care them so much

[lewis-winters]

🔄 for the one word writing prompts!!

Thank you for sending this :D I used a random number generator and got the prompt 'clean'. I hope you enjoy it, even if it's a little short and plotless.

...

Natalie would deny it later at all costs, but Arthur heard the groan of pleasure she made when she dropped into the tub.

"That good?"

"Shut up."

She sounded too relaxed for it to have any real bite, and Arthur laughed to himself from the motel bed. It wasn't bad, as motel beds went, and might even fit them both comfortably despite being a single. Though, maybe that was just because they were used to folding together on rickety old military cots and the backseat of a jeep. Haylofts, too, but those were roomy when you cleared the space.

The gentle sound of splashing water stopped.

"Art?"

"Uh huh?"

She didn't continue, and Arthur sat up. The curtains were closed against the night sky, and the rose gold glow of the bedside lamps cast the room in an almost cozy light. Steam curled out of the cracked open bathroom door. He crossed the room and opened it.

The overhead bulb was dying, and gave a faded, yellow, light to the white bathroom suite. At the far end of the room, Natalie was stretched out in the tub, eyes mostly shut, hair curling wetly to her forehead and neck.

"You need something?" Arthur asked.

"No," Natalie said, but her voice was small.

Arthur didn't need her to say anything more than that. He shut the door behind him and sat down next to the tub. Wordlessly, Natalie's wet hand snaked out for him to take.

He laughed, and interlaced their fingers. She reminded him so often of the strays he used to get in trouble for feeding in the alley behind the shop, seeking affection but never acknowledging it. It all had to be on her terms, and unspoken. Arthur could work with that.

They sat in silence for as long as Arthur could tolerate it, which was longer with Morse than with most other people. 

"You're gonna turn into a prune."

"Maybe that's the idea," Natalie countered drily.

"That's a terrible idea."

"Hush."

He did, even though he knew she wasn't serious. She didn't ask those times, just got quiet and stony until he got the message. Arthur leaned his cheek against the edge of the tub. The plastic of it was cool amidst the humidity of the bathroom.

Again, the quiet didn't last.

"Do you want me to wash your hair?"

Natalie thought about it for a moment, as if it hadn't become something of a ritual for them, ever since her hair had gotten long enough to really need caring for.

"I'd like that."

#HAPPY WET BEAST WEDNESDAY EVERYONE #im having feelings about them again #people like us #natalie morse #ab foster #bob ocs #fic rec

[lewis-winters]

every time you post something about nat it is a jumpscare to me because it feels like a deep read of my psyche that i thought no one knew about :)

honestly? same.

#ask #listen. natalie morse is not an oc insert but she might as well be. #her creator is Angry and Afraid but still so hopeful and It Shows

[lewis-winters]

i made myself sad thinking of dick developing separation anxiety because every time he turns away, something seems to always happen to his man!

he turns away for a split second and lew gets shot in the head!

lew jumps without him once and his plane explodes!

he meets lew's dad and finds out he had to live with that monster for most of his life and could have lost him way before he even met him!

then they're thrust into a world where they have to hide how much they love each other or else risk getting caught and killed! dick's so scared of letting lewis go anywhere alone! what if someone jumps him? what if he goes drinking at a gay bar and gets caught at a raid? what if something happens and they never call dick because they don't know what they are to each other and dick never finds out what happens to him and he just-- what if he just--

lewis would be going to get some milk and is gone for more than five minutes because he got caught up with talking to their neighbors and when he comes back dick's all over him even more than their dog is.

"i missed you so much don't ever leave me again."

#FOUND IT!! #hehe