#hbowarshort23

[softguarnere]

Passed Me a Note Saying, "Meet Me Tonight"

Floyd Talbert x reader

A/N: Hey there @typical-simplelove 😁I was the person chosen to write you a story for the HBO War Daily Short Story Exchange! It's my first time writing a fic with Tab, so I hope it turned out okay and that you like it! 💕 Word Count: 846 Warnings: brief mention of war

It’s smooth – just like him.

Passing you in one of the hallways, Talbert smiles at you as he approaches. To anyone watching, the gesture seems friendly enough. But somehow, even with Nixon – of all people – walking with you, Talbert manages to press the slip of paper into your hand without detection. When you feel the edge of the folded paper poke your palm, you can barely suppress your smile until you’re alone.

Meet me tonight, the note says in Tab’s handwriting.

The rest of the day can’t pass quickly enough. Still, you try to pace yourself. You attend meetings, diligently taking notes for Colonel Sink and typing up letters as you normally would. Maybe your foot taps a bit impatiently under the table – but if anyone notices, they have the decency not to point it out. Besides, you keep having to remind yourself, Talbert is just a friend.

“Is there a reason that you’re risking losing your pass over fraternizing with me, Floyd?”

At the sound of your voice, Talbert glances up, smiling at you. He smiles at a lot of girls. You can’t help but wonder if the smiles that he throws their way are this bright, though.

Talbert extends a hand to you. Without hesitation, you take it, and he leads you to the edge of the huge, sprawling camp. “Didn’t want you to miss this.”

Through the trees, dusk is setting in. Humidity rises from the day’s heat, turning the atmosphere a soft shade of blue. A few last golden rays of sunlight are softening now, fading into the clouds as the bright orb sinks below the horizon. After a moment, in the distance far above, a few twinkling lights emerge in the darkening sky. The scene, this transition from day to night, is beautiful. It probably looks just as pretty as this every evening, but you’re ashamed to realize that if that’s true, you’ve never noticed it before. But Talbert did.

Another realization hits you at the same time: he’s still holding your hand.

His skin is warm and soft against yours. Maybe you should say nothing, at the risk of ending this moment too soon.

“This is beautiful,” you whisper.

He turns to you, his smile as bright as the stars. “I thought you might like that.”

Hands still joined, you squeeze his. He looks down, eyes widening as he comes to the same conclusion that you did a few moments before. “I like this,” you say.

. . .

The war might be over, but its conclusion has brought you nothing but a flurry of time sensitive paperwork. Still, if one good thing has happened, it’s that the rules barely apply in Austria these days, and no one seems to have a problem with Talbert stopping in to visit you. The handsome paratrooper sitting on the corner of your desk, cracking jokes, flashing those striking smiles at anyone who passes by, becomes a common sight in the office. If you can’t be out there having a good time with everyone else, you’re grateful that you get to spend time with him in here.

It's getting late. Even the colonel has turned in for the night. Aside from the clacking of the keys on your typewriter as you diligently finish typing up a letter for him, the building that has been commandeered for these offices is quite – except for the sound of approaching footsteps.

Footsteps that you would recognize anywhere. You smile before you even glance up, even hear his voice call out to you in greeting.

“You’re brave, (Y/N),” Talbert says. “Being alone in here.”

You sit back in your chair, smiling. “I was just waiting for you.” It’s been so long ago now that you can’t be sure if he remembers that evening in Toccoa, but you do. You incline your head toward a door behind you that leads out to a balcony. “I want to show you something.”

Outside, the soft glow of the stars that light the sky are diminished by the lights of the city down below. Like stars fallen to earth, the buildings are lit up with soldiers staying up late, celebrating the day they’ve waited years for. You noticed the scene a few evenings before, on another day of industriously working late. It had reminded you of that evening, all that time ago. Not the same scene you once enjoyed together, but beautiful in its own way. But really, everything beautiful reminds you of Tab.

“Didn’t want you to miss this,” you say, a callback.

Floyd smiles, and you know then that he remembers, too. On cue, he squeezes your hand. “It’s beautiful. Like you.”

You smile, no longer having to hide affections like that; not after everything the two of you have been through in this war. “I thought you might like that.”

He leans in, close, so that even in the darkness you can make out his every feature. “I like this,” he says, then closes the gap between you.

This, you think as he kisses you, is more beautiful than even the stars.  

#hbowarshort23 #floyd talbert #floyd talbert x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #my writing

[typical-simplelove]

Peace in Chaos (R. Spiers)

Summary: When the jump into Normandy goes wrong, it feels like the end is right there, but then Ron shows up, and maybe things are okay now.

Author's Note: This is for @hbowardaily's short story exchange, and I've had the honor of writing for @hxad-ovxr-hxart. I had a blast writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading this!

Word Count: 982

Warnings: Explicit!female reader; canon typical mentions of war and D-Day (and it going astray); mentions of death

likes are appreciated, but reblogs are better!

In the haze and the exhaustion amidst the morning dew settling across the grass behind the beaches on Normandy, her heart couldn’t stop racing. There was a plan. She was supposed to land behind the beaches, and her unit was supposed to be right there. She’d have Luz’s familiar smile, Bull’s strong but steady presence, the leadership of Winters, and the friendship of so many others, but instead, she was walking around, without any ammo or supplies, alone, in enemy-infested France, away from any markers that she recognized. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. While she was trained in the event that everything went wrong, the training never went this wrong. There was always something there for her to lean on. Now, though, she couldn’t use any of that training to get back to where she was supposed to be. 

As she’s crouching down behind bushes and trees, in the grass, her uniform muddy and wet, she can’t help but wonder if this is where she dies. She doesn’t know if this is the way she’s supposed to be heading, but if she knows anything it’s that for every single second she spends alone out here, there’s a higher chance of her never finding her company or making it home. 

She had so much she wanted to go home to, so many people and opportunities and dreams. Really, though, there was only one person’s face she’d want to look at once more before she died, but at this rate, it wasn’t going to happen. He told her landmarks to look out for in the event she ended up near him, and she knew those as well as she knew her own landmarks and orders, but try as she might, she couldn’t get in the direction of him. 

As the sun slowly started to rise behind her, she only hoped she was still going in the right direction. No one would blame her for getting lost because after all, in war, things are always bound to go wrong. However, no one prepared them for when things went this wrong. At this point, as the smells of the early morning began to fill the air, she couldn’t help the tears that began to form around her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and she wasn’t supposed to be alone, fearful that a single bullet could go flying through the sky, striking her, fatally, at any moment. There was supposed to be someone with her; she’d rather have someone she loathed than be wandering and almost frolicking through the French countryside on her own. 

This is where it all ended for her, right? She’d be lost for the rest of her life, and when starvation and dehydration caught up with her, she’d be so far from any other American or Canadian or British or French troops that her dog tags would never make it home, and her family would never have any closure. She’d be labeled Missing in Action, presumed dead, and no one would know her demise. Her body would collapse, leaving her in a free-for-all for any German troops that might come across her. It wasn’t the ending she thought she’d have in this war, but it was the ending she knew was inching closer to her. 

She was supposed to be brave, the bringer of doom towards the Axis powers, but at this moment, she felt like a five-year-old, afraid of the dark. She always thought that she could manage to be alone for extended periods of time, and she’s done it before, but right now, all she wants is someone by her side, anyone. 

She doesn’t know how much more of this she can take. She’s considering giving up. 

However

The minute she decides to sit down and take a rest, she sees a figure walking toward her through the fog, the morning sun illuminating their features. Her senses and instincts creep in. Slowly, she begins to back up, her handgun ready to fire. If she’s going to go down, she’s going to go down fighting. 

As the body moves closer to her, she prepares her voice to yell out the code word. It’s been a while since she’s used her voice; her throat is dry from fear, anxiety, and dehydration, but she knows when the time comes, she’ll be able to use her voice. 

She doesn’t have to use the words, because the figure says them first. 

“Flash.” 

“Thunder,” is her automatic reply, but the relief she feels in her body is immense. Not only is it friendly, but she also recognizes that voice. That smooth voice comforted her in the highest points of her homesickness and pain during training. That voice was the one that was by her side during late-night walks at Curahee, and it was the voice that whispered in her ear at the movies on the rare chance she got a weekend pass. 

Ron. 

As he steps out from the fog and his eyes focus on her, she can’t help the sprint that overtakes her. She rushes over to him and launches herself into his arms. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his arms holding her tight to his body as he allows himself to feel. When he landed on his own, with no one in his company around him, his immediate thoughts went to her. If his landing didn’t go well, then it’s safe to assume hers didn’t either. While he knew she could take care of herself, he still worried for her, but that’s what happens when you love someone. 

For the first time in years, Ron felt safe because he was holding his entire world in his arms, and with his world in his arms, nothing could harm it–nothing could harm her. 

Amidst all the blood, pain, death, fighting, and war, they finally felt at peace in a world lacking peace. 

#hbowarshort23 #claudia writes #ron spiers #ronald spiers #ron spiers x reader #ronald spiers fic #ronald spiers x reader #band of brothers #op: 2023

[hbowardaily]

We are happy to announce, that @hbowardaily is hosting it's first short story exchange!  

It will be open to anyone and we will be accepting all characters from the three shows and all kind of fanfiction! For this event only short stories accepted, the word count most be over 500 words and it must be under 1k words! This event is a Tumblr only event, even if you post your writing to other platforms too, your story must be posted to Tumblr in one piece, so this time posting just a link is not enough. Of course you can add a link to your post, but your whole story is also need to be in the post.

Please use the tag #hbowarshort23 for every writing so we can reblog them!

During this event everyone will give something and receive something. After the sign-ups are over we will reach out to everyone and send them their giftee’s url and preferences. During the exchange, you have to send anonymous messages to your giftee to get to know about them and their likes/dislikes, the goal of the exchange is to get to know each other better! Make sure you have your ask and anon feature enabled to participate, or you can contact us and we will reach out to your giftee, while keeping your identity as a secret! You can write your story anytime, but don’t post it before the posting starts!

In case somebody is not able to finish the event, we are in need of pinch-hitters for those who wouldn’t get anything otherwise. Please if you would be able to make one more gift in this case, fill out the respective question on the sign-up form you can find below!

Schedule:

Sign-ups: July 21. - August 6.

Sending out information: August 7. - August 10.

Creating: August 10. - Sept. 17.

Posting your stories: Sept. 18 - Sept. 20.

HERE you can find the sign-up form!

If you have any question, don’t hesitate to contact us!

#band of brothers #the pacific #generation kill #hbo war #hbowardaily #hbowarshort23 #hbowardaily's short story exchange

[liptonwashere]

only you (and you alone)

(i wanted to upload this earlier, but my respiratory allergy has struck again and i am fighting for my life 😂) hi @hell-it-was-you! i'm your assigned writer for the HBO war short story exchange. i've never written a story in English before so this is a first for me, and it was fun! i hope you like it. thank you for participating in this exchange, and thanks to those who organized it! 🫶

show: band of brothers

ship: speirton

word count: 999 words

fanfiction prompts: a private bet at officers poker night. a drunken very sloppy confession of feelings

warnings: none

a/n: they're so silly here. i'm sorry lmao

Ron often wondered about the how's and why's as a puzzle he must resolve at any cost. Most likely, he wondered about those matters that didn't really need a resolution outside the battlefield.

Whenever a dead soldier’s face appeared in his dreams—a name he could barely remember—and Ron’s façade would crumble down, asking himself, ‘Why are we still fighting?’

He had no idea.

Following orders felt natural to him. In and of itself, Speirs belonged to that certainty and what it involved: the rush.

His heart pounding loudly in his ears, and not a single doubt disturbing him. Later, Ron'd think about how in the hell he was still alive.

He wouldn't tell anyone about his thoughts.

Perhaps it was luck. Some people were lucky, and some were not. These questions always got him into an endless spiral, and he dawned on a new, unfair question.

Ron was so far beyond surprise he couldn't even open his mouth. He stared at Carwood, half-heartedly hearing Harry and Nixon, cards strewn all over the table, and drinks of whiskey Nix looted for each of them.

And Speirs wondered and wondered and wondered. Even after losing another hand.

He slumped his shoulders; what a lost cause.

How was it possible that Lieutenant Lipton was able to so easily read all of his moves? Infuriating. And what was more than infuriating? The unsolved why.

Why did he keep waiting for it? To be read by him?

Was it the rush?

Was it the way Lipton, with his lazy smirk and flushed, rosy cheeks, glanced at him like he knew what he was doing?

Probably.

Lip looked back at him through his lidded eyes, and Ron took a deep breath to ground himself.

He was getting sidetracked.

They had been drinking for hours when Harry and Nix called it a night. Ron could tell by Harry’s slurred speech and the unsteadiness of his feet that he was tipsy. Nix stood up, completely unaffected by what he’d drunk, and mocked a cheerful Lipton—the drunkest of them—by telling him to drink more wisely the next time. Nix, of all people.

Ron promised them to take care of him before the officers left.

He began to regret it.

Who would have thought Lipton was the silliest and most talkative drunk?

The room seemed to float around like a boat, making Lipton stumble around when he tried to stand. He was about to take the whole bottle, but Speirs stopped him by his wrist.

"Don't."

Lip read the stern expression on Ron's face and shook his head. "I'm not that drunk, sir."

"You’ve had too much. I can’t give you any more."

Ron placed a hand over Lip's shoulders, and he leaned into his touch. Not a single complaint from Carwood, just following his CO. As usual.

He carried him to their shared billet. Ron squinted at the darkness, swallowing the light, and was careful in his walking. A difficult task when Lipton couldn't stop talking soothingly into his ear.

"Remember when… you ran straight through the German line at Foy… and came back unscathed?"

Ron's eyes crinkled; he couldn't hold his smile for much longer.

"I remember it."

"You were… the bravest man I've ever seen… I’ll never forget that… as long as I live."

Lip did not speak afterward; his eyes were fixed on Speirs. His heart might burst at any moment, mesmerized by the sight.

Ron found he was still staring.

"Like what you see?"

That snapped Lipton out of the trance, blinking in his direction. He laughed, and his hot breath sent shivers down Ron's spine.

"I always do, sir." Lip said, matter-of-factly.

The conviction in Carwood's voice surprised Ron. They have been keeping things professional, but the major breakthrough came almost by accident.

Ron smiled, and controlled by a force outside himself, he whispered, tongue in cheek, "Are you flirting with me, Lieutenant?"

Lipton was silent for a good minute. It was so long that Speirs checked if he was still awake.

"Now that I think of it… I am, sir."

A straightforward answer that caught Ron off guard. Again. His face turned up to Lip in awe as he continued.

"I know… I'm not supposed to want you." Lipton closed his eyes. The words were just too difficult to force out of his own mouth. Finally, he managed to slur, "But I do."

And of course, Speirs wouldn't waste Lip's honesty.

"So you want me?"

Lipton glanced at Ron's lips, unaware that Ron was doing the same.

Carwood didn't bother to consider the consequences. The whiskey was causing him to say things he wouldn't have said otherwise, and he might blame himself for it in the morning, but not tonight.

"Yessir."

Ron hummed in response, amused.

Speirs had to hold himself back from kissing him. He knew by then that he never wanted anything more than to have Carwood's lips over his.

He thought about catching the nape of Carwood's neck and pulling him forward, cherishing a sweet gasp from his mouth. Ron let his thoughts run wild, Lip's fingers tangled into his curls to hold him closer, and the taste of whiskey in—

That would have to wait.

It was just a moment, but Ron's question had already been answered.

Neither of them said a word, just looking into each other's eyes and knowing the untold truth.

Carwood tilted his head from side to side, frowning. He had started to feel the effects of the alcohol long before he sobered up, so Ron made him drink a full glass of water before allowing him to lie down and sleep.

Settling in for his shut-eye, Lip mumbled.

"Good night, sir."

Ron chuckled unabashedly. How funny. Calling him "sir" after confessing his feelings, drunk and sloppy.

He pondered how Lipton would behave during his inevitable morning hangover.

"It's Ron."

Lip repeated to himself his name, a tender whisper, and he didn't know the effect it had on Speirs.

"Good night, Ron."

#hbowarshort23 #short story exchange #band of brothers #ronald speirs #carwood lipton #speirton #hbo war #yeah i am sucker for these two

[mrs-murder-daddy]

This is my entry in the HBOWarDaily's Short Story Exchange! This is written for the wonderful @rosemarynightmares-art

A/N: I tried to make it vague about where in Europe the reader is from but she is in England for some reason. Why? Who knows? Also this title has nothing to do with the fic I just like the sound of it

TW: Brief mentions of sexual harassment committed against Chuck but it's not graphic or explicit, outdated ideas about masculinity and unwanted sexual advances

I Should've Known It Was Strange You Only Come Out at Night

Chuck Grant x Reader

It's a cold night in Aldbourne, the perfect night to be rugged up in your nice warm bed. Instead you're out celebrating with friends. Betty had scored a date with a handsome American soldier and naturally the rest of your friends thought it was a reason for celebration.

The pub was packed, half of the patrons were the American soldiers and the other half were young people from Aldbourne (and surrounding villages), eager to catch a peak at them. Your friends quickly began their drinking, never without a pint. You decided to pace yourself, ready to keep an eye on them.

When Betty nearly fell out of her chair on her way to get another round, you suggested she accompany you to the bathroom. You helped splash her face and fix her hair. Then you made your way back out. You did a little head count, making sure no little sheep got lost.

You only counted four. There was a fifth, where was the fifth? You sat Betty down at the table and asked the girls to look after each other while you found your fifth. You strained to look through the crowd, the loud hubbub of conversation distracting you. Then you spotted her. Her red hair wasn't hard to miss, it matched Betty's so sweetly.

Clara was not your friend really, she was Betty's little sister who 'just had to come see the men' with you all. She was freshly 18 and a very naive 18 at that. You waded through the crowd to grab her attention when you noticed something off. She had cornered a man, a very handsome man.

She had him backed against a booth seat and her hand was placed rather high on his leg. His face was nothing short of discomfort.

You didn't mean to be quite so violent but you pulled her arm hard to get her away.

"Clara! What do you think you're doing?" You shouted and pushed her not-so-gently back towards your table. You turned to the man and asked, "Are you alright?"

He seemed to snap out of some distant expression and turned on the charm. "Better now you're here."

You saw through it though, "I won't make excuses for her but I do feel I should apologise for her behaviour."

The soldier sniffed and tried to shrug it off, "Nah it's flattering to get that kind of attention."

You decided to let it go, but continued, pointing over your shoulder, "Look I have to herd them all home but if you wanted me to walk with you too, or come back here and check in with you I can."

He got a strange little smile on his face. "I think I'd like that."

You did exactly as you said, coming back to find the man nursing another beer.

He smiled up at you gently as if he didn't expect you to follow through.

"You know you can tell me honestly, are you okay? What Clara did isn't right."

He looked into his pint glass as if it had the answers but instead he found nothing. He just shook his head.

You nodded in understanding and instead held your hand out to shake his. You gave him your name and he gave his.

Chuck Grant. Well it certainly sounded like an American name.

"Hey do you wanna get out of here?" He said suddenly.

"Uh, I'm not sure that's a good idea after… you know…"

Chuck laughed a little too loud and clarified. "No I meant just for a walk or something, it's too loud in here."

You weren't sure why but you agreed. He offered his arm for you to link up and led you outside, ignoring the whistles and catcalls.

While you walked, you spoke about many things. Life back home, what you'd be doing if it weren't for the war, and what you hoped life would be like after. About ten minutes in, you began to shiver. It was much colder than you expected.

Chuck stopped and began to shuck off his jacket, ready to offer it to you. You protested immediately and offered shyly if you could share it.

He smiled and held his arm up for you to tuck under. You looked for confirmation before wrapping your arm around his waist.

The walk back to your sharehouse was one of warm conversation, both literally and figuratively. You were tucked into a handsome man's coat and he… well he had the prettiest girl in Europe under his arm.

#band of brothers x reader #hbowarshort23 #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fanfiction #chuck grant x reader

[mylastresortiswriting]

"Youngblood"

Eugene Roe x femReader

Hey @softguarnere, I was the person to write the short story for you.

I have to admit it was quite a challenge, but a fun one as it would turn out.

It is my first time writing something like this, so I hope you like it :)

PS: I am sorry, but it is a bit longer than 1,000 words, not including the song text.

PPS: If there are any mistakes, then please correct me, it is late night/really early morning right now for me and I had quite some trouble to coordinate everything here on Tumblr.

Warnings: mentions of past bullying

Remember the words you told me, "Love me 'til the day I die"

You know him since Middle School, he was the new kid, who came to your school.

Surrender my everything 'cause you made me believe you're mine

From the beginning on you disliked him, maybe even hated him, for something he is not to blame, but you only realize that a few years later.

Yeah, you used to call me baby, now, you're calling me by name (mmm)

You always seemed to notice him when no one else did, but you never realized why, certainly not because you were interested in him or so you thought.

Takes one to know one, yeah, you beat me at my own damn game

The reasons why you disliked him for almost all of Middle School were silly as you would realize later on.

You push and you push and I'm pulling away

Pulling away from you

He was bullied by three other kids from your grade and the rest, including you as well as the teachers, never stood up for him and simply ignored it.

I give and I give and I give and you take

Give and you take

The boy himself never stood up or said anything, trying to ignore it as best as he can, which was basically the reason why you hated him, silly and unreasonable as you now know.

Youngblood

Say you want me, say you want me out of your life

Once you got into High School you realized that the bullying stopped, since the three teenager went to another school, and that he actually slowly starts to talk to the others, but mostly only to the people he didn't know from Middle School.

Then I'm just a dead man walking tonight

But you need it, yeah, you need it all of the time

And around that time you look at him more and more until you are hit with the realization that you have a crush on him.

Yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh

Youngblood

Somehow you managed to befriend him and apologize as well and not much later you get together.

Say you want me, say you want me back in your life

Everything went well until it didn't.

~

So I'm just a dead man crawling tonight

'Cause I need it, yeah, I need it all of the time

Yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh

"[Y/N], is everything okay?", Bill, one of your best friends since Elementary School, asks, pulling you out of her thoughts,"You have been really silent today, that is quite unusual. Did something happen?"

Lately, our conversations end like it's the last goodbye

You try to wave it off:"No, everything is fine...", but your voice trailing of at the end of the sentence gives the lie away.

Then one of us gets too drunk and calls about a hundred times

Nix chimes in:"Don't lie, just tell us, it can't be that bad, I mean you didn't kill someone, did you?", having only listened and watched so far.

So, who you been calling baby? Nobody could take my place

"No, I didn't kill anyone.", you reply, annoyance lacing your voice.

When you're looking at those strangers, hope to God you see my face (ooh, ooh)

Nix and Bill roll their eyes as you don't continue and now it is Joe's, who just arrived after talking to Web, his boyfriend, about when they are going to meet up after school, turn to question you:"Hey, friends, how is it going? Now, what is going on with you, [Y/N]? Trouble in paradise?", this was a suggestion no one made so far and judging from your reaction he is right, which obviously gets their attention.

Youngblood

Say you want me, say you want me out of your life

"Seriously? Did Eugene did something? Just tell us, we can deal with it!", Bill says, anger visibly in his face, Nix and Lieb nod as all three of them cast a glance over to the table at which Eugene and Shifty are sitting, Eugene is currently explaining something to Shifty, who nods along, oblivious to the stares he just receives.

Then I'm just a dead man walking tonight

But you need it, yeah, you need it all of the time

"Probably feeling, but ignoring it. He told me, that he got quite good at that.", you think to yourself, following their gaze, before speaking up to clarify what is going on:"No, no, no, he didn't do anything, we just had kind of a disagreement...a argument...Well, I don't know what to call it, but don't worry, he will probably approach me to talk about it, he just needs some.time to cool off and get his thoughts sorted out."

Yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh

Youngblood

"That is a relief, but what exactly did you disagree about?", Nix further wants to know.

Say you want me, say you want me back in your life

You just shrug your shoulders:"I don't really know, I guess I said something, which hurt him....We will see, I will keep you posted. Now, doesn't everyone of us had to go to the next period, I don't think our teachers would appreciate us being too late again.", with that you signal, that for you the conversation is over now as you quickly pack everything up to get to your next lesson in time.

~

So I'm just a dead man crawling tonight

The rest of the day you are left wondering what exactly went wrong, not finding anything, so you hope that your boyfriend will explain it to you later, which he luckily does.

~

'Cause I need it, yeah, I need it all of the time

Yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh

It is already 9pm when your doorbell rings and for a moment you are left wondering who it could be, before you carefully sneak downstairs to see who it is without them seeing you as you are at home alone this night, your parents are at some stupid company party or so, like almost every second Friday.

You push and you push and I'm pulling away

Pulling away from you

Peaking outside you can see your boyfriend, who nervously stands in front of the door, waiting for you to open up, which after some debating with yourself you do.

I give and I give and I give and you take

Give and you take

"Can I talk.."

You're running around and I'm running away

"So what exactly is your problem..."

Running away from you

Both of you begin, interrupting the other one.

Mmm, from you

Youngblood

He motions you to go first, which you do, sounding slightly angry:"Well, for starters, I want to know what your problem with me exactly is!", realizing too late that it came out meaner than expected and according to Gene's body language he agrees with that.

Say you want me, say you want me out of your life

Getting himself together he quietly says:"That is exactly why I came here, to talk about it with you and to apologize and explain myself. Is that fine with you?"

Then I'm just a dead man walking tonight

But you need it, yeah, you need it all of the time

You need to think about that for a moment, not happy about his behavior towards you, but if it really was your fault, even by accident, then you would like to apologize as well.

Yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh

Youngblood

"Come on in."

Say you want me, say you want me back in your life

He follows you into the living room, sitting down on the other side of the couch, facing you.

So I'm just a dead man crawling tonight

Expectingly you wait for him to begin.

'Cause I need it, yeah, I need it all of the time

Yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh

Nervously, even more than before, he looks down at his fidgeting fingers, before quietly speaking up after clearing his throat:"Well,..I kind off have been taking my distance from you, because I wasn't sure, if you still want to be together with me..", before he can continue you interrupt him, nearly shouting:"What the fuck does that mean? Why shouldn't I want to be together with you? Give me one good reason!", which he provides, even more anxious than before.

You push and you push and I'm pulling away

Pulling away from you

"Yesterday you said to me, that you didn't want to be together with someone, who can't stand up for themselves or others...And as you know, I am not that good at standing up for myself...", his voice trails off, wanting to explain it some more, bit seemingly not finding the right words.

I give and I give and I give and you take

Give and you take

Shocked you realize what he means and letting out a breath you tell him:"Oh, sweet Jesus, oh my god, Gene. I am so sorry! I didn't really think about it when I said it.

Yes, it this important for me, but not the most important thing and only if someone does or doesn't do both of it.

And there is a reason why it is hard for you to stand up for yourself.

Still you always stand up for others, if you see that they aren't treated well.

So, there is no reason for me to not be together with you, you are the most important person in my life right now.

I love you so much, so never ever think less of yourself just because of something silly I said.

Next time just please talk about it with me immediately."

Youngblood

Say you want me, say you want me out of your life

"Really?", this simple question shatters your heart completely and tears start to appear in your eyes as you close the distance and hug him.

Then I'm just a dead man walking tonight

It takes him a second, before he hugs you back, patting your back, apologizing:"I am also sorry for not talking with you sorry and for hurting your feelings. I love you too."

~

For a minute there both of you just hold onto the each other and as soon as your calm down again you let go of each other and be look at you and with an amused look on his face he asks:"So now, that everything is okay, what are we going to do?"

"You want to stay here for the night? My parents are away and I have nothing to do. You?", you reply, asking him in return.

He shrugs his shoulders:"I have nothing against that, I also have nothing to do and my mom is okay with me staying over, probably expects me to do so honestly.", he lightly chuckles, making you grin.

Somehow this results in you break out into laughter.

Calming down you want to know:"What do we want to do?"

He thinks about that for a second:"What about doing a Star Wars movie marathon?", he stops, adding,"By the way, I have to be at 11am the lastest, I want to say goodbye to my brother, who is going back to college."

You nod in agreement:"Sounds good, why don't you turn on the TV and start the first movie, while I am getting a few snacks from the kitchen?"

He gives you thumbs up and soon as you stand up.

~

The next few hours, so basically the whole night, you spend watching the movies and talking about basically everything, at some point you completely stop watching the movies and instead only talk.

At some point you look up and see the clock over the TV, shocked at seeing the time, which you tell Gene:"Gene, it is five a.m."

"We talked basically all night?", he replies, just as surprised as you.

Looking at each you burst out into loud laughter, seeing that the other one looks just as funny as the other one.

#hbowarshort23 #band of brothers x reader #eugene roe x reader #fanfiction #band of brothers fanfiction

[eugeneroehoe]

Hi, @mylastresortiswriting! I was your short story gifter for HBO War Daily’s short story event! Thanks for your help in letting me know what you wanted from my anon ask. It was VERY difficult for me to write something within the word count, but I hope you enjoy what I came up with :)

Home

Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron & Eugene Roe

Babe can’t figure out how to deal with the after effects of war, and goes to the only person he knows can help.

Word count: 994

Going home was harder than Babe could’ve ever expected, somehow. War seemed like hell, but it wasn’t until it was over that he realized how used to it he’d become. And he wasn’t even one of the guys who had been in it from the start.

He thought about how this was the last time he’d have any reason to wear this uniform on the train home. Unless Hitler had a brother he didn’t know about, or something.

No more uniform, no more explosions, no more death. That should be a comforting thought. But when he laid back down on his real bed at home the first night, he didn’t sleep at all. He got up and went for a walk around his neighborhood as though floating, just a presence rather than a person. It was his home, and somehow he felt like he no longer belonged to it.

His family wanted to celebrate his safe return, but it only reminded him of Bill’s not-so-safe return, and made him upset. They opted for a special dinner of all of Babe’s favorite foods, but resisted inviting the entirety of Pennsylvania over and kept it to close family only. It was nice, but Babe was mostly quiet.

Anytime someone asked him a question about what he saw while he was gone, he just shook his head. There was no way he was going to ruin the innocence of his loved ones by giving them even a hint of what it really was to feed their imaginations. Imaginations were usually worse than reality when it came to thinking of horrors, but Babe thought this might be the only exception. What he saw was worse than anything a mind could conjure up.

Days turned into weeks, then months, and eventually his family gave up on asking him if he was okay. They knew the answer would always be the same lie.

Working a regular job was weird. He woke up to his mother’s soft voice calling to him instead of screaming or explosions. He’d go in, talk to his coworkers, many of whom were in the exact same situation as him, and pretend like nothing was wrong.

He visited Bill a lot after work, so much so that Bill’s ma stopped asking who was at the door when he knocked, instead just opening it for him with a smile.

Sometimes he and Bill talked, other times they said not much at all. This time had been different, though. Bill wasn’t exactly the most intuitive guy, but even he could tell something was on Babe’s mind.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

“Have you talked to any of the guys? Since?” Babe mumbled, fumbling with his sleeve to get some of his nervous energy out. He kept his eyes downcast, but he could feel Bill staring holes into his face.

“A little,” Bill answered with a small shrug that Babe couldn’t see. “Mostly Toye. I thought about writing to Winters just to say…well, I don’t know what. Somethin’. But I haven’t yet. Why?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout them. A lot. ‘Specially Gene,” Babe admits quietly, glancing up and then back down quickly, as though afraid of what Bill’s reaction would be.

Bill nodded slowly, rubbing his chin with his hand. “Hard not to. You took a liking to him, I seem to remember.”

Babe doesn’t deny it.

“Well? Didya write to him?”

“No. I don’t know what to say.”

“Then go see him.”

“What?” Babe exclaims, eyes wide. “Unannounced? That’s kinda rude…”

“Oh, Christ, Heffron. I can’t believe you of all people are worryin’ about manners.” Bill rolls his eyes and shifts on his bed.

“But if I don’t know what to say now, how the hell will I when I’m standin’ right in front of him?”

“If you really miss him, you’ll have something to say,” Bill says simply, almost dismissively. Babe knew then that he’d lost.

Then he was on the front steps of Eugene’s house, taking it in as if it were something more grand than it really was. When he’d gotten off his bus and asked the first person he saw for directions, he immediately recognized the accent and only then did he truly know how much he’d wanted to hear it again.

He’d much prefer it coming from the mouth of his friend, which would come true if he could bring himself to knock on the damn door. He sits down on the steps instead.

“Edward.”

Babe nearly jumps out of his skin and turns to look over his shoulder. After the war, he’d been so sensitized to sound, but he hadn’t even heard the door open. Gene was always like that, silent.

“How did you know I was out here?” Babe asks dumbly, too stunned to think of anything a little more touching. He quickly takes in the sight of Gene in civilian clothes, almost stunned by it. Like he’d been expecting him to open the door to his home with that same red cross on his arm.

Gene’s lips pull into one of his almost-smiles, small and subtle, and Babe feels like he might cry. “I saw your shadow through the window. Thought maybe you were a ghost.”

“Funny, I kind of feel like I am.”

“Is that why you’re here? I can’t bring back a dead person.” It’s meant to be a joke, but Gene’s eyes are empty as he says it.

“Gene, I-” Babe’s own throat won’t let him speak, and his eyes burn.

Eugene tilts his head a little, gently closes the door behind him and approaches Babe. When Babe continues to say nothing, he sits down on the step beside him. Babe just looks at him.

Babe inhales sharply. “I thought I’d know what to say.”

“Then maybe you don’t need to say anything at all.”

Babe’s shoulders drop, then he pulls the man into a hug. They stay like that, and for the first time in months, Babe feels okay.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #eugene roe #babe heffron #hbowarshort23

[jump-wings]

HBOWarDaily's Short Story Exchange 2023

Show: The Pacific

Ship: Eugene Sledge x Snafu Merriell Shelton

General Reader

For @ahsokatanoss I hope you like it!

An Evening

They crossed the corridor, Eugene in front, Merriell behind. When they reached the door, Eugene moved aside and allowed Merriell to enter his room first. He closed the door behind them. The door made no more noise than the beating of Merriell's heart. Eugene leaned back against the door, hands in his pockets. He was watching Meriell with his eyes. Merriell walked around the room a bit. He picked up a few items on the shelf and looked at them, but he neither saw what he picked up nor was he interested in the decor of the room, just a few pathetic attempts to postpone the inevitable conversation. But somehow someone had to say something, and he knew it had to be him.

''You have a nice room, Sledgehammer.'' His voice came out lower, higher-pitched, and more strained than what he had planned to say in his head. The words almost reached his lips like tiny daggers, creating wounds in his throat. Eugene caught Merriell's eyes on his own and wouldn't let go. He said thank you and waited. He would push Meriell to the end. Merriell looked away. He waited for a few seconds in the middle of the room, looking helplessly at the carpet.

''The food was very nice.'' Again a thank you came from Eugene and he waited again. His eyes are fixed on Merriell. Merriell waited too, the bitter water rising from his stomach to his throat. He finally made up his mind, he could postpone while he ate and chatted with Eugene's family, he could postpone while Eugene's father showed him their land, he could postpone while he listened to his brother reminisce about the war in Europe, but here he was in Eugene's room in Alabama, the two of them alone and he found himself in a kind of trial in Eugene's eyes. He couldn't put it off any longer, feeling like prisoner b5rought tıo court. He had nowhere to run and no excuse to escape. He lifted his eyes from the carpet and stared into the big brown eyes watching him.

''Eugene, I…''

''Why did you come?'' Eugene's voice was angry.

''To see you.'' He looked away, his voice a whisper.

Why? Why did you come to see the man you've seen too much to even say goodbye to? Suddenly, months later?

The anger in Eugene's voice grew with each word, but the anger in his voice couldn't hide the underlying pain. Eugene's pain reached Merriell. Snafu's heart ached again, with pain at the same frequency as Eugene's, a pain that had not stopped since the moment he got off the train.

Eugene rose from where he was leaning and stood upright. He clenched his hands into fists and pressed his nails into his palms.

Ever since they returned - one to Alabama, the other to Louisiana - from the endless forests of the Pacific, its hills, its rains, its muddy soil, and its endless islands that had turned into graveyards Merriell, who had always been overconfident, had been struggling with indecision. Eugene, who had a calm nature since his early youth, was angry. Everything they knew about life was rewritten in the Pacific.

He just couldn't return. He couldn't turn around and couldn't even say goodbye. He couldn't shake his hand and look into his eyes for the last time. He wanted to, but he was undecided and could not do it. His heart couldn't stand it. This was too much. He was asked to realize a reality that had never been more real until the train entered the station. Suddenly, he is asked to leave behind the last years of his life, the person was created from him in the war, the skills he was taught to fight, the brutality, the death, the blood, and the only person he has ever learned to trust and love - Eugene - and return to a life like nothing ever happened, many times he doubted its existence when he was in the muds of Okinawa. Which one was the dream? Louisiana or Okinawa? Which one was the reality?

If he had turned back and said goodbye to Eugene as he got off the train in Louisiana, he would have lost everything. He would lose those times, the times their existence was disgusting but still too valuable to lose, but most importantly, he would lose Eugene forever, his memory.

He was undecided until the last moment. While choosing what to wear - casual clothes, a suit, or even he thought about his marine uniform uniform -, while he was taking his best suit to his sister because he couldn't iron it himself, while taking leave from work, while buying the ticket for the train to Alabama, while waiting for the train to arrive at the station, while getting on the train, while sitting in his seat, while finding Eugene's house, while walking down the road to Eugene's house, while knocking on the door of Eugene's house, and yet he had come this far. Now he was standing in the middle of Eugene's room, looking into his eyes contains anger and pain.

When Eugene got off the train months ago, he didn't think anything, he didn't feel anything. In the months that followed, anger came to visit him. Why didn't he shake him by the shoulder and wake him up? Why hadn't he just woken him and said a goodbye? All this time, they had lived as if they had never met, they have never knew each other? After everything they've been through together in this world, who could understand them better than each other?Why didn't he even wake him up and say goodbye, didn't he even love him that much?

I wish I were like the men who wrote those thick books he saw in Eugene's hands, Merriell thought. Maybe I could explain it then. Snafu had made up his mind. In one breath, he said all the words that suddenly appeared in his mind.

''I couldn't say anything to you that day because I, because you… I can't say goodbye to you. I can't say goodbye to you because if I did, you would leave and I didn't want you to go. I didn't want anything to go away we lived together. I didn't know how to do it.''

Eugene listend him. Now he had figured out how to calm down. He smiled faintly, gently. He looked into the emerald green eyes of the man he loved. His eyes wandered over the dark curly hair falling on his forehead. Almost he had never seen him so helpless before.

''If you had woken me up, we would have found a way together. Don't run away from me, Snafu.''

''Never again. I am not going anywhere.''

#hbowarshort23 #the pacific #eugene sledge #snafu shelton #thepacificfanfic #fanfic #eugene x snafu #hbowardaily's short story exchange #hbowar #hbo war #hbo war series #sledgehammer #merriell shelton #merriel snafu shelton #to find

[tahnawanda]

I don't want to close my eyes

written for @merriell-allesandro-shelton for the @hbowardaily short story exchange :) my apologies for being a couple days late, real life got the best of me!!

title I don't want to close my eyes

rating PG

warnings None

pairing Snafu/Eugene

summary Eventually, he starts wondering what is better anyway? Is better when he’ll start sleeping through nights again or when he stops jumping at shadows, or will it be once that restless, aching feeling in him eases? Eugene wishes he knew.

Link Here, on AO3

#hbowarshort23 #sledgefu

[thoughpoppiesblow]

Stress

@nothin-2c-here here is your fic from the @hbowardaily exchange! i'm so sorry for the delay, and i hope you enjoy it!

Dick Winters/Lewis Nixon. 525 Words. Fluff.

The clouds had drawn low and close by the time Dick exited his billet. His hosts were lovely English folks, but he still needed his alone time now and again. The main drag of Aldbourne was quietly bustling as the afternoon drew to a close, and Dick let its simplicity envelop him. Neat hedges, flowers by windows, and bright Union Jacks on were every corner of the cookie-cutter town. The Americans had sensed the upset of their arrival at first, but the town gradually grew to acclimate them. And just as things settled, they would have to unsettle them. According to the plans, they were supposed to jump soon - but that was doubtful given the current weather. Everything seemed even and still and quiet, but Dick could tell the rain and wind would arrive soon enough. 

Lewis had arrived soon enough as well, bearing his usual grin and charisma. His dark hair had been mussed by his overseas cap, and Dick longed to run his hands through it. And it was more calming than he could say, to be in Lew’s presence. His best friend was like a cool glass of water on a hot summer’s day. 

“Something on your mind?” asked Lew, breaking Dick from his reverie. His smooth voice flowed over Dick slow and smooth as molasses. He looked over at his friend, who had a wry smile on his face.

“Maybe, Lew,” said Dick, blushing. The wind picked up for a moment, and Dick tried to calm his nerves.

“Hey,” said Lew, “it’s just me, alright? Just me.” His face was warm and open and so full of affection that Dick could hardly bear it. And just in front of them was an alley between two buildings, shielded from prying eyes and wavering winds.

Dick grabbed the olive drab of Lew’s jump jacket and pulled him into the alley, then pressed his face into his shoulder. Lew’s arms came up to encircle him, with one at his waist and one on his head. They stood for a moment and swayed, breathing deeply.

“We’re all right,” said Lew. He rested his chin on top of Dick’s head, breathing him in. “We’re all right, and we’re gonna stay all right.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” mumbled Dick, face still buried. He felt Lew sigh against him.

“I don’t like seeing you stressed,” he said. “And me saying things like that might make you less stressed.”

Dick raised his head and sighed. “It’s war, Lew. We’re both going to be stressed.”

“But I’m the cool and collected one.”

“You’re the drunk one.”

“Oh, shut up, Dick,” said Lew with a grin.

“Make me,” Dick replied.

Lew laughed and placed a hand on Dick’s cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sweet and slow, and when they broke apart they were smiling at each other. They let their breathing slow until Lew spoke.

“Did that take away some of the stress?” he asked.

“Some,” Dick said with a knowing smile.

“Well, then I guess I’d better do it again to get rid of the rest.”

“I guess you’d better,” said Dick, leaning in.

#hbowarshort23 #jj writes #band of brothers #winnix #fanfic #hbowardaily

[hbowardaily]

Hi, I’m interested in doing the story exchange but also unsure and wanted to ask you this… Could I do it using just my HBO War sideblog/secondary blog? I have my main blog private and separate from the sideblog and would rather keep it that way.. Just wondering if you know. No worries if not 🤗

As long as we can message your sideblog and anons are enabled for asks, it is alright to use just your sideblog.

Thank you for the question!

#hbowarshort23