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mads-nixon · 6 months

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Meine Liebe

Dick Winters x Translator!Reader

Masterlist

Request: @flowers-and-fichte Hey! Thanks for the Chuckler headcanons! They're so cute! I've got another request :) it's BoB-related this time. Winters with a reader who is fluent in German and teaches him to speak it. And then one day he surprises her by speaking it (wedding proposal, just starts talking in it out of nowhere, whatever) to her and it's so freaking cute. Thanks! Take your time :)

A/N: i loved this concept!! thanks for the request! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none!

When (y/n) first signed up to be an intelligence translator for the Airborne, she had no idea what was in store for her. Jumping out of planes was expected, but what she couldn’t have expected was a red-headed man named Dick Winters. Nix introduced them in Aldbourne when she joined the company, and something about the Pennsylvanian struck her differently than the other men she’d met. Most eyed her warily, but the man she met that day flashed her a kind smile and a firm handshake, sending an unexpected warmth through her.

“So you’re our new interpreter,” he stated, his polite eyes never leaving hers as he shook her hand.

(Y/n) nodded, her lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, sir. (Y/n) (y/l/n).

“Dick Winters,” he replied, releasing her hand after a few moments. “Welcome to Easy. Please let me know if you need anything.”

Before she could respond, Nix called out to her. “We’ve gotta get to battalion, come on.”

With a final nod to Winters, she saluted and turned on her heel, walking over to Lew who was sitting in the driver's seat of a jeep. “So, you met Dick,” he announced, shifting the jeep into drive. “Whatcha think?”

(Y/n) scoffed lightly as she gazed at the rows and rows of tents that lined the airfield. “I only spoke like two sentences to him, Lew.”

Luckily, Lew and (y/n) grew up in neighboring towns in New Jersey and knew each other through mutual friends. Everyone knew the Nixons for their nitration plant that was in Edison, but (y/n) knew the Nixon boy as the teenager who took her best friend to the prom and got so drunk that he threw up on her beautiful blue dress. Betty still hadn’t gotten over it by the time (y/n) left for basic.

“No sparks flying yet?” he grinned, elbowing her shoulder playfully as he drove. “Give it time. I know it will.”

“What is wrong with you, Lewis?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just met the guy! And we’re going off to war for Pete's sake, not some low-crawling pub where men are lined up to dance with me.”

Her job was to decode and translate intercepted German communications, as well as translate in the field and interrogate prisoners if need be. There were times when being the daughter of Austrian immigrants was awful, but other times, it came in handy. Without her parents teaching her their language, she wouldn’t be in her position in the Army.

As the months passed in Aldbourne, (y/n) was swamped with intercepted communications, paperwork, and various intelligence reports. She rarely did anything other than work in her office, growing tiresome of the monotonous click-clack of the typewriter. What little time she did have outside the office was spent either visiting the Blue Boar with the other officers or quietly reading in the fields of wildflowers near her billet.

The sun set perfectly on the lilies and colorful harebells, orchids, and cornflowers that were scattered among the grass. Any chance she got, she’d go lay out a blanket and get lost in the pages of “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” escaping the war as the words came to life in her mind. Time seemed to blur as the months stretched on in Aldbourne.

With the follies of the Italian campaign, the Allies knew they had to try a different approach. Nixon and (y/n) had talked about the possible landing locations and tactics, but no plan was in motion quite yet. This did not stop them from preparing for the possibility. Easy’s training got increasingly realistic the further they got into 1944. By early February, Dick, Harry, and the other platoon leaders were brought in on the intelligence officers’ speculations. A few weeks later, (y/n) was working in her office when she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, not looking up from her typewriter as she finished a translation.

The door creaked open, and in walked Dick who was wringing his hat between his hands, almost as if he was nervous. “Hi, (y/n). Sorry to disturb you.”

Hearing his voice, (y/n) looked up from the paper, a small smile forming as she took in his timid expression. “Hi, Dick. You’re not disturbing me,” she said, pointing to the large stack of papers on the corner of her desk. “These aren’t going anywhere.”

Dick clasped his hands behind his back and walked closer to the desk. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

(Y/n) nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the extra chair beside her desk.

Dick sat down and continued. “Would you be able to teach me some basic German? I know that you are fluent in it, so-”

“Of course!” She interrupted, excitement lighting up her features. “I’d love to!”

Dick seemed surprised as he sheepishly smiled at her from across the desk. “It would be useful to know some phrases when we finally get into combat.”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

From that cold February day on, the pair met every Saturday night in (y/n)’s billet. Her host family, the Bennets, insisted on making a big family dinner every time (as large as they could with rationing), treating Dick as one of their own. (Y/n) watched from across the dining room table as he spoke to Mr. Bennet with a polite smile. The golden light from the setting sun filtered through the open blinds, highlighting the soft brown freckles that adorned his face. (Y/n) couldn’t help but admire his handsome features, a thought that she’d kept hidden mainly to keep Nix off her trail about the supposed ‘sparks’ that were supposed to fly between them at some point.

“I was worried about you Yanks, but if they’re all like you lot, I think we’re in good shape,” Mr. Bennet laughed, scooping a forkful of roast into his mouth.

Dick chuckled breathily, his eyes flitting to the (y/h/c) across from him, catching her staring red-handed. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his face warming under her gaze.

After the dinner table was cleared, they continued their weekly tradition, sitting across from each other once again. “These are pretty basic, but they’re important,” she began, her eyes locking with his. Repeat after me. ‘Guten Abend.’”

Dick listened carefully, his eyes drifting down to her lips before echoing her pronunciation. “Guten Abend.”

“Very good,” (y/n) praised, her smile growing. “Now how about ‘Bitte’ which means ‘please,’ and ‘Danke,’ which means ‘thank you.’

“Next, let’s learn ‘Wie geht es Ihnen?” (y/n) said, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “It means ‘How are you?’

As they repeated the words together, her beloved language created a unique connection between them that she never thought possible. It felt good to speak the language in situations other than wartime intelligence. As she taught Dick, she fell in love with her family’s native tongue all over again, but that love wasn’t the only thing blossoming in the cozy dining room.

Under the shade of a sturdy tree in the Bennet’s backyard, the late afternoon sun cast a glow over the yard. (Y/n) and Dick sat side by side, leaning against the trunk as they took a short break from their lesson.

(Y/n’s eyes began to droop, fatigue creeping in like a silent intruder. The lines of exhaustion were etched beneath her eyes, and Dick couldn’t help but notice her weariness.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, leaning closer to her, his brow furrowed in concern.

She sat up straighter, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” she admitted, her voice a soft murmur.

Dick turned to her with eyes filled with worry. “Up late doing translations?”

(Y/n) nodded, her shoulders sliming slightly. “Yes,” she sighed, leaning her head back against the hard tree bark. “We’re getting more and more communications every day. It’s hard to keep up.”

Seeing her struggle, Dick scooted closer to her and paused before gesturing to his lap. “Here,” he suggested, his tone gentle. “It’s more comfortable than a tree,”

A small, tired smile crossed (y/n)’s face as she responded with a weary, “Yes, sir,” She laid her head on his lap, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Dick felt a warm, protective swell of emotion as she nestled into his lap. Her presence, despite her exhaustion, brought a sense of peace and contentment he hadn’t realized he was missing. He could always show up at her door and have dinner like there wasn’t a war going on. Their routine had developed into what he looked forward to the most as the week went on. Any conversations they managed to have during their daily regimens and workload were filled with smiles and talks of the upcoming weekend, Saturday’s dinner menu, and other little things that reminded him of home.

A soft pink tinge rose from Dick’s neck to his cheeks as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Better?” he inquired, his voice a soothing, gentle rumble.

(Y/n) let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispered, “Yes, thank you, Dick. I needed this.”

He watched over her with a mix of concern and affection, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder. “You’ll work yourself to death in that office, (y/n).”

She squinted one eye open, her gaze focused on him. “I know,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with desperation, “I can’t rest knowing my family is still stuck there, Dick.”

The lieutenant’s eyes saddened, his heart aching at the raw pain in her voice. He moved his hand from her shoulder to rub her hair back gently. “In Austria?”

(Y/n) nodded, her voice hushed and heavy with emotion. “Yeah,” she murmured, blinking to combat the tears that were filling her eyes. “My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…they all stayed. They’re still there, and we haven’t heard from them in almost a year.”

“So you’re doing this for them.”

“For them and all the other innocent people whose lives have been torn apart by Hitler,” she confessed, her voice wavering.

A tear trickled down the side of her cheek, and she felt a warm hand wipe it away gently. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground, sweetheart,” Dick murmured softly, the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it. “When we finally do see action, you won’t be a hundred percent if you’re constantly running on fumes.”

She let out a shuddering breath, her emotions overwhelming her. (Y/n) sat up, shifting to bury her face into Dick’s shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. His arms encircled her, pulling her into his side as he rubbed his hand soothingly along her back.

“Please take care of yourself. If not for them, do it for me. Please,” he whispered into her hair.

As the evening sun bathed them in a warm light, (y/n) pulled back from their embrace, her tear-filled eyes glistening with gratitude and adoration. She gazed into Dick’s calming, emerald-green eyes, vulnerability seeping from her. His eyes mirrored her intensity, and a soft, affectionate smile played on his lips. With her heart pounding in her chest, (y/n) brought her hand up to his cheek, her fingers tracing the contours of his skin with a gentle, trembling touch.

Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a powerful connection was forged. Slowly and with a sense of natural ease, she pulled him closer, guiding him toward her. Dick, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected tenderness of her actions, felt the soft, deliberate pressure of (y/n)’s lips against his. Their lips met, and their connection deepened as their mouths moved together, a tender and affectionate expression of their feelings. Their kiss was a gentle exchange of affection, an unspoken testament to the emotions that had quietly grown between them.

As (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their tender kiss, their actions spoke volumes in the quiet of that moment. Their lips slowly parted, the sensation of their kiss still lingering in the air like a sweet, unspoken promise. They looked into each other’s eyes, their gazes locked in a lingering connection that was filled with understanding. (Y/n) inched back slightly, her touch soft and tender as her fingers gently brushed over the freckles on Dick’s cheek as she withdrew from their intimate embrace.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice a gentle murmur, sniffling slightly as she rested her forehead against his. Dick’s heart raced, and he could feel her warm breath on his face.

“They’ll be proud of you. I’m sure of it.”

MAY 7, 1944: BERCHTESGADEN, AUSTRIA

(Y/n) reclined on a wooden, sun-soaked deck chair, gazing out at the breathtaking landscape of the Bavarian Alps that stretched before her. The mountains stood tall and majestic, their peaks kissing the cloudless sky. She felt a sense of awe at the natural wonder surrounding her.

Harry sat at the end of her chair, and Ron and Nix were sitting on the one beside them, all three drunk as a skunk. Their voices filled the air with drunken excitement, and their ramblings brought a wide smile to (y/n)’s face.

Nix groaned in good-humored frustration, raising his fingers in a futile attempt to count off the main leaders of the Nazi party. “Hitler, Hitler…no.”

Rolling his eyes, Ron chimed in, his voice louder as they spoke over each other, creating a chaotic atmosphere. “Hitler, Himmler, Goering-”

“And Goebbels,” Harry finished, his grin infectious as he completed the list.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh heartily, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched her friends stumble through their banter. The joy of the moment, the beauty of the scenery, and the relief from no constant action and danger all combined to create a warmth in her heart that was impossible to contain.

“I’m so glad I get to see this,” she wheezed between fits of laughter, her hand clutching her stomach as another wave of cackles escaped her.

The sound of footsteps made her turn, and she saw Dick approaching with Lip. She smiled at him, her heart beating slightly faster when he returned a wink.

“Hey, Adolf! Love your Eagle’s Nest,” Harry yelled, standing up wobbly and grabbing Dick’s shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind. We made ourselves at home. Love what you’ve done with the place here.”

(Y/n) chortled again, earning an amused look from Dick, who found the whole situation hilarious. But he had more important news to share.

Welsh grabbed a bottle of champagne and held it out for the major. “Hey, have a drink. Come on. Just so we can say we saw you do it,” he implored, staring for a moment as Dick didn’t respond.

Smirking, (y/n) rose from her chair and gracefully pushed the bottle back toward Harry as she moved to stand between him and Dick. “You drink it, Welshy.”

Welsh retracted his hand, standing there for a moment like a pouting child, while Dick, who had patiently waited, pulled out a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and started to speak, his gaze warm as he looked down at (y/n) beside him. “Listen up. From Corps, it just came in. Effective immediately, all troops standing fast on present positions.”

Nix rested his hands behind his head as he lay on the chair with a smirk. “Standing fast.”

Ron, his usually sharp eyes now glazed over from the alcohol, looked up and asked. “What does that mean?”

(Y/n) ran a hand down her face with a giggle. Her laughter was infectious, and the group chuckled, with Dick’s laughter being the loudest. His smile was the widest she’d seen in months, and the sight stirred something within her.

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked the group as he wrapped an arm around (y/n)’s shoulder.

Harry nodded, grunting in reply, and Dick repeated the sound, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Are you ready for it? Listen up, the German Army surrendered.”

The news sent a sudden hush through the group, and the jovial atmosphere vanished, replaced by a solemn and reverent feeling that settled inside each of them. (Y/n) looked up at Dick, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Really?” she whispered, her voice filled with hope.

Dick nodded and squeezed her shoulder softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. They did.”

In that instant, she couldn’t contain her joy. She flung her arms around his shoulders, squealing happily, and he snaked his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. The weight of the past years seemed to lift, replaced by a hope of peace in Europe for people like her family who were caught in the crossfire of war. As they pulled back from their hug, the sheer happiness of the moment made (y/n)’s eyes glisten with tears. Around them, the other officers were clapping each other on the back and expressing their own gratitude that victory in Europe had been achieved.

With a soft smile, Dick placed a hand on her lower back and led her to a farther part of the balcony, giving them privacy from prying eyes. He could see the curiosity in her eyes and as they found a quiet corner, he spoke in a hushed tone. “I got word today, (y/n). About your family.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation, and her heart raced. “My family? Where are they? She asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.

Dick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her the support she needed to hear the news. “They’re alive, (y/n). They’re living in Salzburg.”

The emotion she’d swallowed down came flying back, and tears welled up in her eyes again as her voice trembled with relief. “Salzburg? Oh, thank God,” she croaked.

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, and the tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around Dick, hugging him tightly once again. It was a cry of pure relief, a release of tension that had gripped her heart for so long.

Dick held her close, his own emotions stirred by the moment. He could feel her relief, his arms wrapped around her as he gently stroked her back. The news also meant that they were one step closer to going home. One step closer to spending the rest of their lives together.

In the midst of the moment, (y/n) looked up at Dick, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. Her soft voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke. “I love you, Dick.”

Their eyes locked in a tender, unspoken understanding as Dick leaned down to cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “I love you, too, (y/n).”

The mountains of Berchtesgaden stood as silent witnesses to what was about to transpire. It was the perfect setting for a moment they would cherish forever. As they stood there, Dick took (y/n)’s hand in his, his gaze unwavering as he looked deep into her eyes. With a smile, he began to speak…but it wasn’t English.

“Meine Liebe, du weißt, ich bin nicht der Beste im Umgang mit Worten, aber ich liebe dich mehr als das Leben selbst. Ohne dich hätte ich das nicht überstanden und ich möchte nie wieder ohne dich sein,” he began, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

My love, you know I'm not the best with words, but I love you more than I love life itself. I wouldn't have gotten through this without you, and I don’t want to be without you ever again.

(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise and joy. She blinked in disbelief, her heart skipping a beat.

“Willst du meine Frau werden?” Dick continued.

Will you marry me?

A gasp escaped (y/n)’s lips as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and her heart swelled. Dick got down on one knee, his eyes filled with a softer determination than the one she saw in his eyes on the battlefield. He reached into his OD pocket and pulled out a small, elegant ring.

In a voice filled with emotion, he asked, “Möchtest du mein leben mit mir teilen?”

Will you share your life with me?

Tears streamed down (y/n)’s face as she nodded vigorously, unable to speak through her overwhelming joy. She held out her hand, and Dick slid the ring over her finger. It fit perfectly, just as they did in each other's lives.

With a smile that held all the love in the world, he whispered, “Ich liebe dich.”

I love you.

With the golden rays of the setting sun casting a warm, enchanting glow on the balcony, Dick stood up from one knee and pulled (y/n) into a gentle, affectionate embrace. The light from the setting sun illuminated their features, turning their silhouettes into a work of art against the breathtaking backdrop. Their kiss was tender and sweet, filled with the promise of a future together.

Their actions were delicate and filled with longing. Dick’s arms enveloped (y/n) as he kissed her, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek, and (y/n) responded with more fervor, deepening the kiss. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers clutching his uniform as if grounding herself in the reality of the moment. The hand on her cheek threaded into her hair and pulled her impossibly closer.

With huge smiles on their faces, (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their kiss. The moment was perfect. However, their intimate moment was suddenly interrupted by a chorus of whistles and cheers coming from the adjacent balcony. Ron, Harry, Lip, and Nix watched on as the couple got engaged. They exchanged glances and held hands as they made their way toward the cheering men.

Nix hugged Dick and slapped him on the back, his expression a mix of humor and satisfaction. “Now if I remember correctly, some wise guy called this the first time you two met…oh wait, that was me.”

Dick’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he turned to his fiance for clarification. “What?”

Rolling her eyes playfully, (y/n) leaned into his side, patting his chest lightly. “Back in Aldbourne, Lew just thought that, and I quote, ‘sparks would fly’ between the two of us.

“Well, I’m so glad they did,” Harry laughed, holding up a wad of cash in front of him. “I’m a rich man now.”

The major blinked at Harry, his amusement evident. “How am I not surprised you bet on us?”

“You think that’s all we bet on?” Ron slurred, sprawled out on a chair with his eyes closed. “We also bet on when-”

Thankfully, Lip stepped in to stop the Captain, who appeared to be thoroughly drunk. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed, sir.”

(Y/n) grinned, admiring Dick’s features above her. “Where did you learn all of that?” she asked. “Because I’ve never taught you anything that complex.”

“A man never tells his secrets,” he replied, kissing her temple lovingly.

“It was Liebgott, wasn’t it,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “Cause only Joe knows that much German other than me.”

“Well,” Dick began, “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

“Oh really, Major Winters. Care to enlighten me?”

He sighed, “Nope. I’ve been practicing that for months. It’s all I’ve got.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got the best teacher by your side for the rest of your life, huh?”

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rorywritesjunk · 3 months

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So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear

It's the three year anniversary since everything changed in Buggy's life for the worst.

Rating: PG-13, just to be safe. Warning: Angst. References to Roger's death, Buggy and Shanks' fight, there's mention of teasing, there's a protective friend, Buggy has Big Feelings, yells at Reader. There's tears. A/N: A request from the lovely @chochotorianime10 who wanted a young Buggy with an s/o who is like Kagura from Fruits Basket, who is the Boar in the zodiac. Buggy in this fic is 19, full of angst. He just wants a drink. Honestly these two probably both need some kind of therapy, especially Buggy. Title comes from "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men.

It had been three years since Roger’s execution and the falling out between two friends, but you saw how Buggy’s eyes still flashed whenever he heard mention of Red Haired Shanks or saw a straw hat or anything that could remind him of the friend he once had. You had remained by his side after that, despite being friends with the two of them at a time. Love made a person do silly things and with how much you loved Buggy, you turned your back on Shanks when you saw how hurt Buggy was after their fight.

And it didn’t help that you loved Buggy so much that sometimes your emotions got the better of you. You were in a pub with him, bringing drinks to your shared table to help him feel better when you overheard someone make a passing comment about the clown over there in the corner lookin’ sad, aren’t clowns supposed to be happy and funny?

And well, your nickname on the Oro Jackson had been The Boar with the way you often charged forward into chaos without much thought and this was no different. You didn’t even make it to the table before you swung one of the bottles around, striking the stranger in the face and knocking him back into his friend.

“Say that again, asshole!” You snapped as arms encircled you, pulling you away from the fight that was about to start. It was the third anniversary of That Day and Buggy wasn’t in the mood for a fight, even if he wasn’t involved in it.

He dragged you out of the pub before the guy’s friends could retaliate, pulling you down the street and ducking into an alleyway. You managed to get out of his grasp to peer around the corner, grumbling about asshole drunks before looking back at Buggy with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?” You asked, demeanour opposite of how it was seconds ago. He just stared at you before shaking his head.

“I wanted a drink, why did you have to do that!” He demanded angrily, clenching his fists. “Where else am I going to go?!”

“There’s another pub down the street, looks better anyways.” You chuckled, not bothered by his tone. He seethed, teeth clenched as he glared at you. You just smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, my love. We’ll get you good and drunk to forget what the day is.”

He glared and shrugged your hand off. Today wasn’t the day he wanted to put up with your antics. This was the one day of the year where he wanted to be miserable, to mourn for what life had been, not drag you away from a brawl because you overheard him being insulted by some drunkard.

“I'm going to find a different place.” He grumbled as he started for the street, but your hand grabbed his and stopped him. He jerked his hand out of your grasp and spun around to yell at you to just leave him alone for a few seconds, but he bit his tongue when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“I'm sorry, Buggy.” You sniffled as you reached for his hand once again. “I just… that guy said somethin’ mean about you and I couldn't stand it. I hate it when people are mean to you.”

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before counting to three, exhaling slowly before he opened his eyes. You always looked out for him ever since the two of you met as children on the ship. The first time you heard someone make a jab about Buggy’s appearance you kicked the person so hard in the kneecap it shattered. You were ten. The crew started calling you The Boar affectionately shortly after that with how you attacked anyone without warning when it came to Buggy.

“Yea, well! Keep it together at the next place.” He snapped. “Don't get us run out of every pub in this town, okay?! I want to actually enjoy my drinks!”

You nodded, still holding his hand while your other hand wiped away the tears in your eyes. “I miss’im.”

“Yea, I do too.” Buggy mumbled as he started for the street again, tugging you along with him. While you drove him crazy, he was happy to have you with him, and the fact you chose him over Shanks made him feel a bit better about how everything went after the fight. You always chose Buggy over Shanks no matter what the situation was, even down to a stupid argument between the two and Shanks was right, you still agreed with Buggy.

“I'll make you breakfast tomorrow.” You told him as you trailed behind him, still holding his hand. He sighed and pulled you close so you walked beside him, not wanting his arm stretched that far back. Sure, he could pop his hand off and you could hold it for him, but he hated that. He wanted you by his side, not behind him.

“You don't have to.” Buggy mumbled. You looked at him, biting your bottom lip.

“But I wanna.”

He looked at you with a frown. You weren't the worse cook, the food was kind of edible, but you two had a room at a nearby inn that offered breakfast and well, Buggy planned to load a bag up of rolls and anything else that would keep so he wouldn't have to have your cooking.

“The inn offers breakfast.” He reminded you. “Just… don't worry about it.”

“Buggyyyyyy, can I at least fix your plate in the morning?” You begged, hand in yours as you swung your arm back and forth as you two made your way to the next pub. “You know I'll make it with lots of love.”

Ugh, love. You said that to him enough that he figured you must mean it, but he maybe said it once to you. It wasn't that he didn't have some kind of love for you, he just wasn't really sure how to define whatever the relationship between the two of you actually was. He never bothered to flirt with anyone, even if you weren't around, because no one would reciprocate. Often they'd just laugh at him, thinking it was a joke, and hide their snide comments to their friends behind their hands while Buggy walked away.

Shanks always made it look so easy. He had always ended up with a pretty girl on his lap or in his arms while the three of you would go to a pub together. You were all young and dumb, unaware of what was coming to tear you all apart, but it was all in good fun. There were times Shanks tried to hug you or give you a kiss on the cheek in front of Buggy, but you would always laugh and punch him in the shoulder before he could, not paying attention to the anger and jealousy in Buggy’s eyes.

He wasn't really sure what he was jealous about at the time. Was it Shanks trying to be too friendly with you or was it the fact Shanks could have anyone but he was going after you? Buggy couldn't understand why he had felt that way, and years later he wondered if he was still in denial in some way.

He wasn't in love with you, he was positive of that, because while he appreciated you stuck around there were times he wondered if it was out of pity for him. Did you think he wasn't capable of taking care of himself? You were always there for him, ready to take someone down, and he knew growing up that others didn't think he could.

But you knew he could, you just didn't want him to do it alone.

“Buggggyyyy?” You asked in a sing-song voice as you two made your way to the next pub. He glanced at you with a frown while you looked at him with big, hopeful eyes. “Can… can I have a kiss?

“What?! Why?!” He demanded. “Why do you want one?!”

“B-Because that's what people do when they're in love.” You mumbled, suddenly averting your gaze from him as you looked down at your feet as your cheeks turned bright red. “I see couples do it all the time, y’know, and… and wished we would.”

“We are not a couple!” He shrieked, patience vanishing at the request and the look in your eyes for him. “Why the hell would you think that?! I don't love you!”

He dropped your hand and took a step back, breathing heavily as he glared at you. The silence was deafening, you were looking at him with big, surprised eyes. Was that too far this time? He often lost his temper but this was the first time he spoke to you like that.

When you didn't respond, he started to panic just a bit. Now you would leave him too, just like Shanks, because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. He hated that you weren't talking just then, this had to be the longest period you've ever been quiet for when you weren't sleeping.

“Wi-Will you say something?!” He demanded, clenching his fists tightly as he narrowed his eyes. “I just said I don't love you, okay, so you might as well just leave me alone now! Like everyone else!”

You lifted your hands up to his face and he started to take a step back; he knew your strength, he awaited the blows you would surely deliver, and when your fingers touched his skin, your palms pressing against his cheeks, he flinched, trying to jerk away.

“Buggy, it's okay.” You told him calmly, and he hated the soothing sound of your voice just then. He needed you to be mad at him, shrieking with the same intensity you showed for that man back at the pub, yet your tone was quieter, comforting him like you had many times before. “It's… it's okay.”

“No, no it's not.” He snapped back as he tried to pull away from you. “You should just leave me already! Everyone else has!”

You wouldn't let him get away, instead dropping your hands to his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He didn't fight you too hard to get away, the frustration and anger bubbling to the surface his arms wrapped around you. Buggy didn't want you to go, he didn't want to be alone. Today was a hellish day, the events years ago replaying in his mind every waking moment, but you stayed by his side no matter what he said to you, taking his emotions in stride.

“I'm not leaving you.” You assured him as you tightened your arms around him.

“Why not?! You should!” Buggy shot back as tears welled up in his eyes. “I don't understand why you stick around, I don't love you!”

“That's okay.”

He didn't miss the hitch in your voice when you said that or your own tears that started streaming down your cheeks. You still managed to smile at him despite what he just said.

“I still love you, Buggy, because I know you need someone to.” You sniffled. “I know you don't mean it.”

His eyes widened slightly and he stopped fighting to get away. He hesitated when he hugged you. He didn't deserve your kindness, he never did, but you still stuck around. He let the tears fall, not bothering to hide them, knowing you were the only person he trusted to see him this vulnerable.

“Let’s go get a drink, okay?” You suggested as you pulled back from the hug a few minutes later, once the tears stopped for the two of you. “I’ll be good this time.”

Buggy sniffed, rubbing his nose before wiping his hand on his shirt with a shrug, trying to ignore the fact he was just crying. You used the hem of your shirt to wipe your own face before smiling up at Buggy. He looked away from you and crossed his arms.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He mumbled as he started walking again; you trailed after him, linking your arm around his. He didn’t say anything or try to pull away. “You… you were defending me. S’okay.”

You giggled and slipped your arm away from his, slapping your hand against his shoulder lovingly, causing Buggy to stumble a bit from the force. He bit back a retort, letting you once more link your arm with his as the two of you headed for the next pub.

He wondered if he was going to regret this, but he suddenly turned to face you, pecking you on the cheek so quickly you weren’t even sure he actually made contact with your skin, but you weren’t going to point it out. You just hugged his arm and let your head rest against his shoulder as the two of you walked along, and while it may take Buggy some time to admit it, he loved that you stuck around for him, took care of him, and put up with him, and he figured at some point he may tell you that he loves you, but it would have to wait.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

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lupoteodoro · 10 months

Text

I visited Aldbourne recently and it was truly the most exciting trip ever for a BoB fan.

The first stop is of course the Blue Boar pub where the officers used to gather.

This poster is everything! Our baby boy Nix initiated a drinking club with his buddies. By the way, the Winters here is not our Dick Winters. Also, sadly, the staff of the pub had no clue why Nix was called “The Mick.”

This is a letter from Hester. He mentioned Nix’s second wife Irene (who was from nearby city Swindon) was died in 1960s.

The special B.O.B burger in the pub that of course I wouldn’t miss. It’s pretty good.

Outside the pub, only 15 meters away, is the house Nix rented for himself. (Yes that’s what a rich kid would do there!) Ed Shames said it was all a mess (Vat69 bottles all around) inside the house but Nix didn’t drink during work!

Behind Nix’s house is St.Michael’s Church where Sparky got married. I also found the tombstone of the Barnes boy who was KIA in June 1942.

A three-minute walk to the town center you will find a lovely shop and post office. It used to be the house of the Barneses, also where Dick and Harry stayed in Aldbourne.

The Crown used to be the pub where the enlisted men would visit (because the Blue Boar was occupied by the officers).

There are also some Doctor Who heritages in Aldbourne such as this Tardis trash bin.

After Aldbourne I headed to Damian’s gig in Brick Lane, which was brilliant. Damian is so nice! It was a perfect day!!!

#aldbourne #band of brothers #lewis nixon #dick winters #damian lewis #travel #winnix #real bob #easy company

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takearisk-xo · 1 year

Text

February 14th, 2013

written for @hinnyfest prompt #12: valentine’s day

Piles of snow lined the cobblestone path as Harry and Ginny walked hand in hand up High Street. The Three Broomsticks’ front windows glowed warm and inviting as they passed, but they didn’t duck into the crowded pub. Instead, they continued further up the slope past Hogsmeade Station and toward the towering winged boars in the distance.

It was slow going, between the slush and snow and Ginny’s protruding belly, it took twice the amount of time to hike up the hill and into the shadow of the castle.

They veered right before they got to the oak front doors, a trench dug path leading them around the side and in the direction of the forest.

Ginny squeezed Harry’s hand. “Are you nervous?”

“A bit, yeah,” his own grip tightened around her palm. “You?”

She shrugged. “More excited, I think.”

Nodding to himself, Harry helped her across a particularly slippery patch as the silhouette of Hagrid’s hut came into view. The postage stamp windows shone bright in the distance, smoke curling up from the chimney and half a dozen hippogriffs in the paddock around back.

Approaching as fast as Ginny’s stunted waddle would allow, Harry mounted the front steps and pounded on the door.

They heard a high-pitched bark followed by some muffled grumbling, then the door was thrown open and Hagrid appeared holding a wiggling mess of dark fur. His hair and beard had streaks of gray threading through the tangled black, and he had new wrinkles around his nose, but his black eyes were just as warm and kind as ever.

“Harry!” he called in shock, then those sparkling eyes slid past Harry’s shoulder and he broke into a grin. “Ginny!”

“Hi, Hagrid!” Ginny beamed back.

“Wha’ in the ruddy hell are ya doin’ here?” Hagrid stood aside to let them in and nearly dropped the puppy in his arms in the process. “Don’ you know it’s Valentine's Day?”

“We’re in town for dinner,” Harry explained, stomping the chill from his feet as a swooping feeling leapt in stomach. “Thought we’d surprise you.”

“Lily with you?” Hagrid looked around like they had her stashed beneath their coats.

Ginny unraveled her scarf and shook her head. “She’s with mum for the night.”

“Bring her next time, will ya?” Hagrid’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “Brutus needs sumn’ to play with.”

Brutus chose that moment to finally wriggle free from Hagrid’s grasp. The Newfoundland pup sprang at Harry, nearly knocking him into the curio cabinet and jumping on his back legs until Harry scratched behind his ears.

While Hagrid busied himself at the grate, putting the kettle on and pulling a plate of rock cakes from the cupboard, Ginny and Harry found seats around the overlarge table. They chatted about Hogwarts and the Ministry and Neville’s new use for the school pumpkins.

Hagrid set down two steaming cups of tea in front of them and nodded at Ginny’s middle. “Won’ be long now.”

Ginny grazed her palm around the top and smiled. “Two and a bit weeks, though I feel like I’ll pop any minute.”

Hagrid chuckled and took a seat. “Lily ready?”

“No,” Harry laughed. “She hasn’t got a clue what she’s in for.”

“Neither does that little one,” Hagrid chortled behind his tea mug. “Havin’ Lily for a sister.”

Ginny kicked Harry’s foot beneath the table and gave him a pointed look.

The swooping feeling came back in full force and he swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat. “That’s actually why we stopped by…”

Hagrid blinked curiously, his brows knitting together.

“So,” Harry hesitated, wondering how he’d forgotten all his carefully rehearsed words. “We haven’t told many people yet, just Ginny’s family really, but we’re having another girl-”

“A girl!?” Hagrid boomed. In his excitement, he knocked into the table and sent tea spilling over the brim of all their mugs.

“Yes, and,” Harry couldn’t hold back the grin spreading across his face. He reached for Ginny’s hand and slid his fingers between hers. “What with everything you’ve done for- Well, we want you to know how much you mean to us. To both of us. And if it’s alright with you, we’d like to call her Ruby?”

Hagrid stared at them for the space of several seconds, silence lingering in the cabin. A log popped in the fire and Harry had just begun to think they’d made a huge mistake when Hagrid’s eyes welled with tears and he buried his face in his hands with an almighty howl.

Ginny’s eyes shone with moisture as she reached over to pat Hagrid’s massive forearm.

“You’ve always been family to us,” she spoke softly, her voice a bit thick. “We wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Pulling out a massive handkerchief, Hagrid blew his nose loudly then turned his watery gaze to Ginny. He tried to speak, opening and closing his mouth twice before bursting into gasping sobs again.

It took several mugs of tea and a little bit of brandy for Hagrid to get back to halfway normal. He asked them on three separate occasions if they were really sure about it. Sure that there wasn’t some other name that held more meaning, someone else they could honor in such a way?

“No one,” Harry said firmly.

Hagrid’s only response had been to pull Harry into a backbreaking hug.

#hinny #hinnyfest #the path from you #tpfy epilogue #reorganizing hinny’s kids like it’s my full time JOB #dont @ me #my fic

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liebgotts-lovergirl · 2 years

Text

Fire On Fire: Chapter 2

(Ch. 1)

Gallery II Taglist Application II Symbol Guide

Summary: Alix & her 2 best friends get ready to go out on the town for the first time in awhile, which inadvertently brings back a bittersweet memory from a month prior. The young agent tries to figure out how to cope with Lieb's mixed signals and the pain of wanting someone she can only have in one way. WARNINGS: Smut (18+) & Angst

Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

In an uncharacteristic act of generosity– which Alix firmly suspected was a product of Winters’ conversation with him earlier –

Lieutenant Nixon had grudgingly allowed her to take the rest of the day off from training so long as she promised to review the necessary Intel for the millionth time before the next day "just in case", so Alix grabbed some food at the mess by herself and headed back into the village.

She'd take care of all that later.

It was a short but enjoyable walk back to the neat row of houses where she was billeted and the slight chill of the English autumn air made her smile. The smokey, overcast sky; the cool breeze rustling through the tree leaves; and the aroma of fresh food wafting from nearby restaurants all reminded her of being back home in Philly.

Arriving at the rustic terraced cottage where she had been staying, she opened the door and was greeted by the sweet sound of silence.

The pleasant elderly couple she was staying with had departed for Wales unexpectedly earlier in the week due to a death in the family, which left Alix with the house to herself for the remainder of her time in Aldbourne, not that she minded.

On the contrary, the tranquility was a pleasant change from the cacophony of the training ground where she spent most of her time.

Examining her manicured nails at the kitchen table, she realized she’d badly chipped one, probably during training. She frowned.

Her best friends had invited her out to the pubs for one last hurrah at around 8 o’clock and she would not be going anywhere with chipped nail polish.

Dashing upstairs to the guest room she slept in, Alix snatched the burgundy polish off her bedside table and scampered back downstairs to the kitchen table, just in time to see the front door burst open.

Her best friend, Skip Muck, bounded inside like an unleashed Golden Retriever with her other best friend, Don Malarkey, right on his heels, the slight breeze slamming the door shut behind him.

"Damn Pyro, your first free night in a month!” Skip exclaimed, taking his usual perch on the kitchen counter. “So where are we going? I vote The Crown!”

“Sure, come on in, make yourselves at home,” Alix deadpanned, the ghost of a smirk crossing her lips as Malarkey half-fell into the nearest chair.

“I don’t ever want to see another practice round again,” he griped, leaning over to loosen his boot laces. “Next ones we fire are gonna be the real thing.”

Alix grimaced, remembering how unusually paranoid Nixon had been that day. He wouldn’t say when but she suspected they’d be making the big jump really soon.

“They just might be, Malark. But you didn’t hear it from me, capisce?”

“I guessed as much,” Skip interjected as he played with the rosary he always carried in his pocket. “Ol’ Blackbeard wouldn’t give you the night off unless the end of the world was pretty much here.”

Alix laughed and shook up the bottle of dark red nail polish.

“Ain’t that the truth, Skipper. But as for where we go, I think last time we went to the Blue Boar, right Don?”

“We did but we can’t go back there again.”

“Why not?”

Malarkey rubbed the back of his neck, cringing. “I might owe one of the bartenders some money from poker…”

“Wait who?” Suddenly, it dawned on her. “Oh God, Malark, not the big guy with the tattoo..?”

“That’s the one.”

Alix shook her head in amusement.

“Well, how much did you lose? I can probably spot you.”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna do that,” Malarkey replied dejectedly. “Let’s just say this: Skip already gave me his last paycheck and it's not even half enough. The guy was a real card-shark. He cleaned me out so many times, I lost count.”

“And where was I when this was happening?” Alix questioned. “How'd I miss all that?”

Malarkey glanced over at Skip and the pair started snickering.

“You were…otherwise occupied,” Don managed to choke out before bursting into laughter again.

“With what?”

“With a certain T/5,” Skip teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Shit. Alix felt her face getting hot, a scarlet blush creeping up her cheeks at the memory. Had it really been that obvious?

╔══ • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • ══╗

A month earlier: May 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

“Alright, let the record show that neither Faye nor I ever said I was a good dancer,” Skip joked over the last notes of Chattanooga Choo-Choo.

“Yeah, I daresay my bruised shins will attest to that,” Alix laughed as the pair made their way back to their table. “I think I took more of a beating the last few songs than I ever did in training!”

The blond man waved a hand dismissively. “Lies, all lies.”

“Skipper, I swear, if you kick her during the reception half as much as you just kicked me now, poor Faye will bleed right through her wedding dress!”

Muck rolled his eyes dramatically and slapped a hand to his chest like he’d been shot.

“Pyro, you wound me!”

“Who’s wounded?” Malarkey piped up as he approached the table, arms loaded down with drinks.

“Both of us,” Alix quipped. “Muck’s pride and my legs!”

“Well, I think I got something that’s gonna make you both feel better!”

The freckle-faced PFC set the glasses down on the table hurriedly before taking his own seat in between his two best friends.

A Cheshire Cat grin plastered itself across his face.

Skip took a sip of his beer and gave the man on his left an inquisitive look.

“Don, buddy,” he started slowly from Malarkey’s right side. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Malarkey didn’t answer. He fished around in his pockets for a moment before pulling out two large stacks of cash and slapping them down onto the table proudly.

“Feast your eyes, kiddies,” he announced. “Drinks are on me tonight!”

Alix choked on her gin and tonic.

“Christ Mal, did you win the lotto?!”

“Might as well have! Just call me the king of craps!”

“No,” Skip stated firmly, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I am not jinxing this for all of us.”

Malarkey and Skip had started bickering good-naturedly and Alix was about to chime in when she happened to glance over to the bar and was met with a familiar set of warm, copper-brown eyes and her mind went momentarily blank.

Joe Liebgott, a T/5 with Easy Company, was leaning on the bar with his left hand, swirling a nearly-empty glass of what looked to be Scotch on the rocks in his right, and eyeing her with an unabashed hunger that made her knees weak.

God, he was handsome.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Alix knew she was staring but she couldn’t help it. She flashed him a nervous smile and he winked at her before turning to pay his tab, causing her stomach to erupt with butterflies.

Damn him.

Alix felt her face growing hot. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malarkey leaving the table, probably heading to double his winnings. She was sure Skip was saying something –-whether to her or the people at the table next to them, she wasn’t sure– but she was too flustered to pay attention.

This wasn’t fair. She could have any other man in the room eating from the palm of her hand but this California cabbie was making her blush like a nervous schoolgirl!

The young agent tried to fight the urge to look over where Joe was standing again but she couldn’t help it. She glanced over, just in time to meet his eyes a second time.

He returned her smile and jerked his head slightly towards the door as if to say, “You wanna get outta here?”

Alix stood up so fast to follow him that she nearly upset her chair.

"Hey Skip, I'm gonna um.. run home real quick and grab another pack of smokes, okay?”

"Wait, let me go grab Don, I think he might have-"

"NO– I mean, no, no, it's fine" she corrected too quickly. "I'll be right back."

"Okay.." Skip said, looking skeptical. "Want me to come with? Don't want you getting lost or something."

"Thanks but I'll be okay, Skipper, I promise."

"Alright but if you're not back in an hour, me and Mal are coming after you. Faye'd kill me if I lost our maid of honor before the wedding.”

Alix gave her friend a grateful smile and grabbed her purse before hurrying after Liebgott, who’d already disappeared outside somewhere.

Stepping out into the brisk evening air, she paused a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim streetlights. The glowing ember of a cigarette a few feet ahead by a nearby bench caught her eye. She couldn't see his face but despite the coat he was wearing, she could tell the smoker was lean and wiry, his thick chestnut-colored hair slicked back.

Even from behind, she'd recognize Joe Liebgott anywhere.

"Hey there, flyboy," she said cheekily and Joe turned his head. Even in the dim light of the street lamps, she could see that adorable lopsided grin of his. He put out his cigarette and stood to greet her.

"Hey, Ziskeit, how ya been?" Joe's tone was warm and inviting, so unlike the rebellious, devil-may-care attitude he put on around the rest of the company and Alix was suddenly grateful it was nighttime because she could feel her face turning bright pink at the nickname.

He'd never told her what it meant but the sound of it ignited delicious, giddy sparks in her stomach.

Joe looked her up and down, clearly admiring the way her black silk dress complemented her curvaceous figure, and Alix said a silent thank you to her friend, Lavinia, for making her buy it.

“Goddamn doll, you clean up pretty good, y'know that?"

He was about to say more when approaching voices from a few feet away made him freeze.

“Shit, I think that’s Popeye and Tab.”

With that, Joe grabbed her hand and yanked her into a dark alleyway next to the building with him, pressing Alix back against the cool brick wall.

He motioned for her to be quiet and they waited, each listening carefully as the nearby voices faded into the distance. She could feel both their hearts racing as his chest pressed against hers and she looked up at him with wide, doe eyes, to find he was already looking back at her.

“How long do you have?” she whispered.

“Till my buddies come back?” He paused for a second to think. “Maybe 40 minutes, an hour tops. You?”

“Same here.”

Joe’s warm, caramel-colored eyes drifted between her eyes and her lips and Alix caught her breath. Their faces were so close together, his lips lingering just inches from hers. She was aching to kiss him with every fiber of her being but she forced herself to wait. She didn't want to somehow screw this up.

As if he could read her mind, Joe smirked. “Guess we should make it count then, huh Zees?”

Alix hummed softly in agreement and that was all Joe needed to hear. Closing the distance between them, he crashed his lips to hers. They were warm and soft and Alix responded immediately, kissing him back with all the urgency that had been boiling up in her since she’d first seen him.

“God, I missed you,” Joe groaned breathlessly in between passionate kisses and Alix smiled against his lips, tangling a hand in his hair.

“I missed you too, tesoro.”

Joe cupped her face gently with calloused hands and Alix felt warmth blossoming in her chest as Joe deepened the kisses, the sweet cinnamon bite of Scotch hitting her tongue. She tossed her purse somewhere, too focused on Joe to care where.

Just for that moment, he was hers and she was his. Nothing else mattered.

Their kisses became sloppier and more desperate as Joe fumbled to remove his coat, dropping it on the ground behind him. Alix tugged him back to her by his tie and she tilted her head back, soft sighs of pleasure turning into needy whines as he went from grazing kisses down her jaw to nipping at her neck, making her shiver.

The rich, intoxicating smell of Joe’s cologne mixed with cigarette smoke was dizzying and Alix felt her breath hitch as Joe’s hands made their way up to the ample swell of her chest.

“Have I mentioned how much I fuckin’ love these?” he asked, giving her breasts a light squeeze and she moaned softly.

“Only every time we hook up,” Alix teased. “But feel free to tell me again.”

She felt him smile against her skin and he gave her neck a punishing bite.

“Fuckin’ smartass.”

Joe’s hands moved down her waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin, but Alix took his hand and impatiently guided it under her skirt.

Unsure, he cocked an eyebrow at her and paused, letting his rough fingertips rest tantalizingly just above the waistband of her panties.

“You gonna stay quiet for me, doll?”

Alix nodded, trying desperately to summon a shred of self-control and he rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead and an “Atta girl” before dipping one finger and then another past the soaked lace and into her wet core.

She let out a small sigh, leaning her head back against the cool brick wall, her eyes fluttering shut as she savored the feeling of his fingers inside her.

Despite having hooked up with Alix only twice before that night, Joe seemed to instinctively know just what she needed because he began to trace feather-light circles on her clit, sending jolts of electricity through her entire body.

She gasped and bit her lip, fighting the urge to cry out as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her with a fervor while somehow still maintaining the perfect pressure on her clit.

He worked her faster and faster, his brow furrowing with concentration as the absolutely pornographic noises from her dripping sex spurred him on.

Alix forced herself to open her eyes, watching him, trying to burn every detail into her memory.

She didn’t know how long it would be until she’d get to see him again.

The day after every hookup, it was as though nothing had happened between them. Joe went back to his friends and Alix went back to her training, the pair basically avoiding each other. Alix began to feel like she was being toyed with but she still eagerly came back for more every time.

She was starting to think she was some sort of masochist.

Alix felt her knees buckle beneath her as he applied just a touch more pressure to her heat and Joe leaned forward even more, pressing her against the wall harder so she didn’t fall. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him as he curled and scissored his fingers expertly inside her.

“Oh...Oh God," she whimpered, burying her face in his shoulder to muffle her cries. She could no longer fight it and she laced her fingers through his hair.

The feeling of pleasure building up within her was almost unbearably good, like fire pooling in her abdomen, and she writhed under his touch.

“Fuck, Joey, I’m so close.”

She didn’t even have to look at him to know he was grinning that lopsided grin of his, loving the way only he could make this fierce, capable agent crumble beneath him.

Joe increased his pace just slightly, rubbing her sweet spot with such intensity that she couldn’t help but moan his name, tugging on his hair desperately as she came undone.

Time seemed to slow as her orgasm rippled through her. Pleasure washed over her whole body and her vision went white as she was overcome with bliss.

She didn’t know how long it lasted but to Joe’s credit, he never stopped, nimbly working her down from her high so she wouldn’t collapse.

Her chest was heaving and she leaned on him as she willed her quivering legs to cooperate.

Joe wrapped an arm around her to keep her upright and she felt her heart flutter in her chest.

For a brief second, she imagined a world where they were going steady, where there was no war and no rules against fraternization, where he was holding her not as a basic courtesy but because he loved her.

A world where tomorrow, they wouldn’t act like strangers again until the next time one of them needed release.

But sadly, that wasn’t the world they lived in.

“How was it, Zees?” Joe asked, breaking her out of her reverie, and Alix gave him a wild-eyed look as she struggled to catch her breath. Was he fishing for a compliment or did he really not know how mind-blowing that was?

“It…It was fine,” she panted, deciding to play it cool despite having been practically begging and mewling his name just minutes earlier.

“Listen, Ziskeit, I-” Joe started but he was interrupted by very loud, somewhat intoxicated voices calling their names from the street.

Joe swore under his breath and wiped his hands quickly before reaching over to grab his coat off the ground.

“Guess that’s our cue, huh?”

Alix shrugged with a small, sad smile, smoothing her dress and watching Joe trying in vain to tame his hair.

“I suppose so.”

Joe handed her purse over to her and Alix pulled out her compact, inspecting her smudged makeup and the faint purple love bite just below her ear.

Re-buttoning his coat, the T/5 took a deep breath, clearly sorting through what to tell his friends about where he’d disappeared to for an hour and why he’d returned so obviously disheveled.

He started to walk away but hesitated a few feet away, turning back to gaze at her one last time.

“Hey Zees?”

The young agent looked over at him with wide eyes. “Yeah?”

A look she didn’t recognize crossed his face briefly. It looked almost…pained. Apologetic, maybe a little hopeful? Or was she just imagining it?

An uncomfortable silence hung in the chilly air between them, each silently willing the other to speak, before Joe shook his head.

“Nevermind. Forget it.”

And just like that, he was gone again.

╚══ • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • ══╝

Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

"I know what it looked like a month ago, but it wasn't like that," Alix lied, speaking half to the vanity mirror over her dresser and half to her friends behind her. "Joe and I were just talking."

Don stopped adjusting his tie just long enough to loudly cough "Fraternizer" into his hand with a shit-eating grin before innocently resuming his task as though nothing had happened.

Alix put the finishing touches on her makeup before seizing a hair clip and lobbing it at her friend, who burst into laughter as it bounced harmlessly off his shoulder and onto the floor.

Hearing the clatter, Muck poked his head out of the bathroom door. Brandishing his hair comb like a sword, he pointed it at both of them, his amber eyes glittering with barely-suppressed laughter.

"So help me God, I will separate you two if you don't behave!"

Don stuck his tongue out at Alix and she rolled her eyes jokingly, biting back a smile as she went to appraise her outfit.

Cherry red was a good choice, she mused, doing a little twirl in front of the mirror so she could enjoy the way the dress billowed out. She'd worn it for a pin-up modeling gig awhile back and it still fit like a glove, accentuating her curvaceous figure without looking cheap.

The plunging sweetheart neckline allowed plenty of room for Alix's most treasured possession: her grandmother's delicate gold cross necklace, which she'd brought over from Italy when she was a girl. Alix wasn't religious anymore but even so, she never took it off.

"Hey Pyro," Skip called as he exited the bathroom, plopping down next to Malarkey in the adjacent room.

"If we do happen to run into your man Romeo tonight, please for the love of all things holy, make sure you lovebirds have a condom, just in case you start feeling the urge to 'talk' again or something."

"Yes, Mother," Alix teased and Skip put up his hands in mock surrender.

"Hey, I'm just saying, we don't need any little rugrats running around, m'kay? I got my hands full with you two shmucks as it is!"

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━━━∆∆━━━━∆∆

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infiinitys · 1 year

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@nothillstarters

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Badger and Boar Pub, outside.

𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 the shop was something he would never turn down. Some would say that it was yet another hour for him to wallow in what he had lost, but it was during these times that in contrast to popular opinion -- his mind was quiet. His mind was quiet, until the moment he opened the door to enter the real world once more. Removing a cigarette from his pocket, the lighter soon followed. The dancing flame accompanied the dim light from the street lamps for a mere fraction of a second before he took his first drag. The exhale? Felt like freedom.

At first, the rocker wasn't aware that he had company. That is, until his head turned to examine his surroundings. "Oh shit." He laughed, shaking his head before his gaze returned to the other. "You lookin' for someone? Somethin'?"

#smoking tw #nothillhqstart #matias // conversations

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necros-writing-stuff · 1 year

Note

thick eden cum = higher sperm count

breeding kink go brrrr

I haven't said it on here, but I've already planned out the 4 kids my PC Kody and Eden are going to have :) If you were around when I did the younger AU, how about Next Gen Edenspawn?

Axel, Phobos and Deimos (twins boys), and Bella.

Axel takes after Eden the most, got raised by an Eden who was still a bad person. Hates town as an adult, wants to get a wife the same way his dad did. Via kidnapping. Eden named him, too. Has his own cabin a few clearings over, but spends a lot of time with his parents. Extremely emotionally constipated, no matter how much Kody tried to counteract Eden's harsher parenting style. He is slightly bitter towards his siblings that they got a nicer Eden than he did - and that he had to become an adult very quickly - but he will not allow anyone to say anything bad about his father at all. Spends his free time drinking/hunting with Eden or cooking with Kody. Otherwise, very into wood-carving. Born January 4th. Currently 27 in the AU.

Physical appearance:

6ft2, Eden's dark hair and facial structure, Kody's blue eyes (and her ears, which he finds weird that people mention). Has like no body hair and can't grow facial hair well, which pisses him off to no end. Same body build as Eden (stocky muscle). Dresses in plaids, plain shirts, cargo pants or clothes made from animal products. Covered in scars after a bad mental health period where he just went out hunting with 0 respect for his own health and had a bad run-in with the wolf pack.

Phobos is the older twin, Deimos is the younger. Phobos idolises Bailey. Deimos idolises Landry. They were older teens (like 19) when they start hanging out in town - also they're banned from most establishments for being little shits. Kody named them. Phobos is gay, but hasn't told anyone yet. Deimos is a man whore. They're both living above Landry's Bar, as he wants to pass it on to them, but they visit home often. They also bother Robin a lot, mostly asking if she'd like them to teach rude customers a lesson. She always laughs and tells them no. They were both mostly allowed to run amok because Kody beat it into Eden's head that he was far too harsh on Axel (true) and so he went almost full lax and oops now there's two tiny terrors. Deimos is a music snob. Phobos does a lot of charcoal sketches. Born October 11th. Currently 22 in the AU.

Appearances:

Brown hair, lightens up a lot in the summer. Brown eyes. Both 5ft8, slimmer builds, Kody's facial structure but Eden's eyes. Deimos has his septum and tongue pierced and tends to go for 80s punk inspired looks, while Phobos dresses more in slacks and sweaters. Phobos also has a nasty scar up his back from almost getting kebab-ed by a boar when he was 13. Phobos keeps his hair shorter and well-groomed, while Deimos keeps his long, often bleaches it blonde. It's kinda fried.

Bella is the youngest. Bella is short for Belladonna - aka, Wolf's Bane. She was tiny when she was born, but Eden gave her the name because she'd be a force to reckon with when she got older, he swore. She follows Axel around all of the time, lives in his cabin with him (they share most of the work equally), but still has curiosity towards town. Eden and Axel would spar a lot when she was a toddler, and they'd fake-fight her to make her laugh. The twins used to try and get her in trouble with pranks they'd pull, but Eden could never be mad at his golden child. The most emotionally available out of them all, but also deals with a tonne of anxiety. Got the bookworm gene. Also dances with her ma a lot, especially if Deimos brings his guitar over to play for them. Born August 23rd. Currently 19 in the AU.

Appearance:

5ft7, Kody's nose, Eden's bone structure and eyes. Eden's colouring, too. You know how Axel is mad he has no body hair? Bella is self conscious because she has more than other girls (or rather, the ones she saw at the pub last time she went to visit the twins). Also has the classical stocky build. She is proud that she is so strong. Dresses basically exactly the same as Axel, but has a few dresses that she wears on occasion to feel pretty.

And how are Eden and Kody doing? Grand! Eden is in his 60s now, but still as active as ever (shut up about his back, it doesn't hurt). Hair has gone white. Kody is in her 40s. They're still extremely intimate with one another - hence why the kids decided to move several clearings over/into town. Just gross to see your parents all over each other all of the time. Eden's mellowed out a lot, but still has his old habits. Still tries to scare-monger about town (not that the twins listened to him like ever). They still fall into classical roles about the cabin. It might not work for everyone, but it works for them. Kody isn't as submissive as she used to be and scolds Eden a lot when he slips back into old behaviours. But at the end of the day, they do what they've always done. Sit in front of the fire and read their favourite books to one another while looking at each other in complete adoration.

#spill your guts #anonymous #eden the hunter #next gen edenspawn #'nw preggo'

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fallimentiquotidiani · 2 years

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Farewell to this land's cheerless marshes

Hemmed in like a boar between archers

Her very Lowness with her head in a sling

I'm truly sorry, but it sounds like a wonderful thing

"I say, Charles, don't you ever crave

To appear on the front of the Daily Mail

Dressed in your Mother's bridal veil?" Ooh, ooh, ooh

And so I checked all the registered historical facts

And I was shocked into shame to discover

How I'm the 18th pale descendant of some old queen or other

Oh, has the world changed, or have I changed?

As some 9-year-old tough, who peddles drugs

I swear to God, I swear, I never even knew what drugs were

Ooh, oh-oh, ooh

So I broke into the Palace with a sponge and a rusty spanner

She said, "Eh, I know, and you cannot sing"

I said, "That's nothing, you should hear me play the piano"

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry

And talk about precious things

But when you're tied to your Mother's apron

No one talks about castration, ooh, oh-oh, ooh

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry

And talk about precious things

Like love and law and poverty, ooh-ooh

(These are the things that kill me)

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry

And talk about precious things

But the rain that flattens my hair, ooh

(These are the things that kill me)

All their life, they make love and then pierce through me

Pass the Pub that saps your body

And the church who'll snatch your money

The Queen is dead, boys

And it's so lonely on a limb

Pass the Pub that wrecks your body

And the church all they want is your money

The Queen is dead, boys

And it's so lonely on a limb

Life is very long when you're lonely

#E #Riascoltiamoci #Sto #Capolavoro #the queen is dead #The Smiths #morrissey #johnny marr

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nancy-drew-is-bae · 2 years

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Nancy Drew: Curse of Blackmoor Manor Thoughts/Review (a thread)

I have a feeling there will be updates to these lists, but here is the first category!

Group 1: No Spoilers (Minimal discussion of gameplay. Characters are discussed at surface level. No culprit mentions at all, duh.)

Where are the bathrooms? Or even just one honestly. I know the manor was built in the mid 14th century, but I find it very hard to believe that no one in the past 700+ years thought it reasonable to add indoor plumbing. Especially given the well that used to be full of water with a functioning sprayer nozzle.

As a follow up to that, where is Mrs. Drake getting water from to water all of those plants in the conservatory? She says the well dried up when Alan died (ten years prior to game start), so where has she been getting water from? Don't even try to tell me that this 78 year old woman is walking up and down 2 flights of stairs with a bucket of water (1 gallon of water weighs about 8 lbs, for reference). The conservatory contains between 75-100 plants (my best estimate) including TREES. Just think about how much exertion that would involve to carry that kind of water up and down stairs at 78 years of age. But lets just say, for the sake of argument, she is carrying the water down the stairs. Where would she even get it?? There are no sinks in this stupid (affectionate) house. She can’t use the kitchen – it went kablooey. Again I ask, WHERE ARE THE BATHROOMS?

Speaking of Mrs. Drake, keep in mind she’s 78. Is she seriously cleaning the whole manor by herself? The Penvellyns are basically nobility and Hugh is currently a diplomat. How do they not have house staff like a maid? No wonder Mrs. Drake is so anal about tracking mud on the floors. Honestly, I don’t blame her. But also, just hire a maid? They can afford to have high quality food ordered, and delivered mind you, for an indefinite period, but a maid is too much? Ridiculous. (I’m well aware of Mrs. Drake’s spiel about “self-reliance” and house staff being gossiping “ne’er do wells”, I just think it’s ridiculous and a cop out)

Why is Mrs. Drake only grey in 4 spots at 78 years old?

Is The Boar’s Head Pub delivering meals on fine china and silver platters? Or is Mrs. Drake taking meals from a Styrofoam to go box and plating it all fancy? Is the delivery person entering Nancy’s bedroom at random and without warning or is Mrs. Drake taking it in there? If Mrs. Drake is using the manor’s dishes, how in the world is she washing them? She can’t use the kitchen – it went kablooey. Again I ask, WHERE ARE THE BATHROOMS?

The library has 1-2 additional floors Nancy can’t access. Next to Nigel there is what appears to be a staircase on the secondary floor of the library, but only part of it is visible. The question remains, does this lead to a third floor of the library that isn’t otherwise visible at all, or is it the entrance to the second floor? There isn’t a way to reach the second floor from the main room of the library.

Where are Ethel and Nigel staying??? Mrs. Drake refers to them as also being house guests, but there are no additional bedrooms! Also, she says Jane is “staying with us,” which makes it sound like she is temporarily visiting, but like, she lives there? Her dad owns the place, why wouldn’t she live there lol.

Why does Nigel leave his laptop sitting out overnight and without password protection? Or for that matter turned on?? How does he have his laptop powered on 24/7 without being plugged in? Especially in 2003, good golly.

Why is it always daytime outside the window in Nancy’s room she stays in? The lighting is always identical in the conservatory as well and seems to indicate sunlight coming in through the glass roof.

Are we given a reason why Hugh and crew move back to the manor? They’ve been living in America for 10+ years and Jane was in public/private school. Linda was from America as well, so why exactly did Hugh uproot his entire family to go live with his elderly aunt he isn’t even close to?? Maybe I’m just not remembering the reason, but it seems strange to me.

Jane loves Brady Armstrong, but she doesn’t own a TV. I guess she watched the Heartthrob Channel in America, but still. It seems weird she doesn’t complain she can’t watch TV anymore.

Why doesn’t the manor have any sort of formal sitting room, piano room, living room, dining room, etc? If there was a door or two that we couldn’t enter (like they’re locked and Nancy says it’s off-limits) I could be much more forgiving. But as is, there’s nowhere a sitting room, bathrooms, additional guest rooms, laundry room, closets, etc. could be. For goodness sakes, Jane doesn’t even have a closet, dresser, shelves…ANYTHING for storage in her room. Like, where are all her clothes?? How are any of the characters getting clean or going to the bathroom? WHERE ARE THE BATHROOMS

How is Loulou 80+ years old when virtually no one seems to feed her besides Nancy? Jane has the fancy cake supplies, but what was Mrs. Drake feeding Loulou for the past 10 years?

Why and how has Mrs. Drake lived at Blackmoor by herself for the past decade? She’s elderly, this seems unwise.

How are the Penvellyns able to heat a massive greenhouse (essentially) in the middle of the UK such that they can keep palm trees alive for decades??

Nancy’s phone time is in military/24hr time, but she doesn’t have a way to “google” or ask anyone how to read military time. If you are a sheltered 10 year old in 2003, I’m not sure how the game expects you to be able to decipher the time…I guess if you looked at the clock in Nancy’s room you could figure it out, but still. She could have had an article on her phone about it.

Why doesn’t Nancy ever drink tea in this game?? She’s in the UK, that feels like a hate crime or something. Granted, even more concerning, Nancy never drinks anything during the entire game, despite eating numerous meals at Blackmoor.

Nancy having numbers on two separate phones with no overlap is not ideal. To put it lightly.

Some of the random spots where Nancy can use her phone feel somewhat passive aggressive (like in the library).

You can see slightly higher towards the ceilings before stepping through the doorways even though you should be more limited on how high you can see from outside the room. (This might make absolutely no sense and I apologize)

The East Hall is more like a closet than a hall.

Hugh and Linda decided to unpack their books and framed photos in their bedroom, but not uncover the furniture to maximize how much it feels like an estate sale.

The ceiling rafters are visible through the solid wood bedframe in Linda’s room. Multiple items within this one room are reflective or translucent that I feel like shouldn’t be and it truly feels like a fever dream.

Jane and Nancy’s rooms are extremely similar in size, windows, etc. and they’re also on the same wall of the hallway upstairs. Linda’s room is completely different and on the same wall (right next to) Mrs. Drake’s room. Does this mean Linda and Mrs. Drake have similar rooms too?

The way Nancy says “loop de loop” sounds like her mouth is full of toothpaste and she’s impersonating a washing machine rinse cycle.

The game contradicts itself about when Randulf the Red was alive and gifted the Penvellyn lands. Most sources cite the middle of the 14th century; however, Nancy’s web search says the 12th century and Nigel himself says the 15th century. According to the Penvellyn family tree in Jane’s room, Randulf died in 1401, but no birth year is listed. Is the game trying to insinuate he was vaguely immortal or was it simply a continuity error? I’m assuming the latter.

#nancy drew #nancy drew games #clue crew #cur #curse of blackmoor manor #the curse of blackmoor manor #nancy drew review

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aspenmissing · 10 months

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚜 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

"Here you are! Five steins! Thanks for waiting" a young blond man says as he places the mugs of beer down on the table.

"Got room for more?"

"Right over here! Hey, do you think you can move over a little?"

"For such a little fella, he's a hardworking waiter," a customer says as Meliodas walks off with mugs in his arms.

Meliodas turns around to face the customers "Oh, no, I'm not a waiter, I'm the owner! This is my place!" then walks away.

The Customers face becomes flustered "The owner? A young kid like him?" Meliodas then walks over to the counter where a brown wolf, dawned with a red collar, is laid watching over the people in the pub to make sure no one starts a fight.

"Hey Y/N, you got that pie," he says stroking her head. She puts her head behind the counter and comes back up with a plate in her mouth and some pie on the plate. "Thanks, girl" she whines in response and he walks off to the table that ordered the pie. "Here you go, fresh from the oven!" Meliodas places the pie down, the 3 boys look at it in hunger. "The Boar Hat's signature meat pie!"

"It looks great!"

"Let's eat some pie!" The 3 said. They put the fork in their mouth to spit it back out.

"Figures, our reputation is for good booze and terrible food"

"You could have mentioned that!" the 3 men shouted

"Are you messing with us, you punk?" The bigger one shouts. This gains the attention of the brown Wolf, who comes over and stand by Meliodas side, growling at the 3 customers. "Hang on, this guy has a sword, and his wolf doesn't look so friendly!"

"Well you guys, looks like we've got a problem. Now let's fix it" Meliodas clicks his fingers, making the Wolf stop growling and look up at Meliodas, who strokes her head.

"Sheesh, you call that a mess?" A talking pig walks out from the back and over to the mess "Why do you even need me for this?"

The men stare in shock as Hawk comes over "Th-The pig, it's talking!"

"That's right I'm a talking pig, man what a bunch of hillbillies!"

"Hawk, we need t get this floor cleaned"

"What a pain in the ham" Hawk starts eating the pie off the floor, and after a couple of minutes pass the floor is cleaned. "Make sure there are better scraps next time" and he walks off.

"If you guys are interested, I could make a decent whole-hog roast," Meliodas says, Y/N looks at Hawk with her mouth drooling and slowly walks over to Hawk before Meliodas grabs her by her collar.

"I am so full! This place has the best scraps!" Everyone starts chuckling, but all stops after a man come into the pub out of breath.

"I-I saw it!" He says. He then sits down with some others. "Honest! I saw it with my own two eyes! I'm positive that I was the Wandering Rust Knight!"

"Everyone keeps bringing it up"

"Come on, you guys know they're just stories used to scare children. If you don't do as I say then one of the Eight Deadly Sins will come after you in blood rusted armour oooo" They all start laughing. Y/N looks at the men in curiosity and Meliodas looks over.

"Eight deadly sins?"

"Huh, you've never heard of them, a young tavern owner like yourself?"

"Their wanted posters are everywhere, you have them over there" Everyone turns their gaze to the board with the wanted posters on. "What was it, 10 years ago? Dozens of holy knights butchered so fast, they didn't have time to defend themselves, These Eight Deadly Sins were the ones who did it, they say that the way the Holy Knight' Grand Master himself was killed, was too gruesome to look at..."

"...and their captain, Meliodas, and his second in command, Y/N, are the scariest of the bunch. They say they've even brought down whole countries. None of them has been caught yet, right?"

"Nope, not a single one"

"Well, I've heard rumours that they've all been dead for years now" Meliodas is pouring some beer in a mug.

"Course they're dead, they have to be," A customer says "The new Holy Knights wouldn't let them live after what they have done"

"Yeah, you've got a point right there"

"Even now, with the king sick in bed, you can bet that the Holy Knights are keeping the kingdom good and safe for all its people"

"But those notices upon the board get updated every year. Doesn't that mean that those eight criminals are still out there" Everyone looks to him?

"Yeah, well. Some spooky knight walking around in rusty armour seems pretty ridiculous to me"

"Guess your right," Another guy says. Suddenly, a loud noise from outside catches every one of the guards, and they all look at the door. Both Hawk and Y/N sniff.

"That smells like rust to me," Hawk says. The tavern door opens, showing a tall figure, they slowly walk in. The high pitch sound of the rust makes Y/N whine.

"The... Eight... Deadly... Sins..." The strange being said.

"It's here!" Everyone screamed and ran out of the tavern, leaving Meliodas, Y/N and a shaking Hawk. Meliodas jumps over the counter and Y/N follows, growling at the being.

"Now, who are you?" The knight slowly sways back and forwards, before falling backwards, making the helmet fall off revealing a young woman.

"This kid is one of the Eight deadly sins?" Hawk asks.

They get her upstairs to a bedroom and takes off her armour and places her onto a bed.

"It's a girl," Hawk says.

"Let's make sure," Meliodas says.

"If you try and touch her, I will hit you to next year Meli!" A girl with ash brown hair walks over to the strange female on the bed, the girl's neck, although having a red collar, visibly shows a mark of a wolf and a jagged scar down lip... This was none other than Y/N, The Wolf Sin Of Death.

"Calm down Y/N, I wasn't even thinking about it," He says rubbing the back of his head with a sheepishly grin plastered on his face; Y/N scoffs. Meliodas puts his head onto the girl's breasts.

"You just said you weren't even thinking about it!" Y/N shouts "You baka! Treat a sleeping woman with respect!" Elizabeth then opens her eyes and sits up. Meliodas still on her chest,

"U-Um...Pardon me?" She says. Meliodas looks up at her and moves away.

"Your heartbeat is just fine" Y/N and Hawk are shaking with anger.

"T-Thank you"

"Where am I?" She looks around before looking at Meliodas, Y/N and Hawk "Excuse me, what am I doing here"

"Oh yeah, you walked into our bar, then you passed out cold, on the floor," Y/N says.

"Your bar?"

"Yeah. The Boar Hat. It's our Tavern"

"Hold on, you're the owners?"

"Mostly him, I'm just here for the free booze," Y/n says.

"Is that so weird?" Meliodas asks.

"Well I mean, I just saw that sword on your back so I naturally assumed"

"Oh, this thing" Meliodas pulls the sword out of its scabbard. Elizabeth gasps but then looks to see only a little nub of the sword. Meliodas and Y/N laughs "Did I scare ya', If all you see is the handle, guess it looks pretty intimidating doesn't it"

"It makes our customers think twice before skipping out on their bill," Y/N says as Meliodas places the sword back into the scabbard.

"It's the customers who pay their hard work money to eat your nasty cooking that I feel sorry for," Hawk says.

"He has a point" Y/N agrees. Elizabeth gasps before running over to Hawk and hugging him.

"It's a talking piggy! It's so cute!" She hugs him more.

"Hey there, my name's Hawk"

"Long time ago I kept asking my father to buy me a piggy like this for my birthday"

"So did you like having a pet pig?" Y/N asks. Elizabeth's expression saddens.

"I didn't get one"

"Hey, are you feeling hungry at all?" Meliodas asks "I could throw something together for you" Hawk then tenses, his ears pointing upwards. Y/N shakes her head.

"Do you have a ham hawk?" She asks.

"Watch it all right, Jeez!" They make their way downstairs. Elizabeth walks over to look at the wanted poster board.

"Come and get it" Meliodas shouts. Meliodas is behind the counter. Y/N is sat on the left of Elizabeth, her green coat now off and over the counter, a mug of booze hand.

"First you nurse me back to health, now you're feeding me?" She says, looking at the three "How could I possibly thank you two enough?"

"Might want to taste that first before you say thanks?" Hawk says.

"All right, this looks so good" She puts the fork, with a piece of meat on, into her mouth. Her whole body tenses.

"What do ya think?" Meliodas asks, leaning on the counter "Awful isn't it"

"Yes"

"Knew it was," Hawk, Meliodas and Y/N say in unison. Elizabeth starts crying.

"Wow, great going Meliodas. Your food made her cry" Y/N says, teasingly.

"No" Y/N looks at her "It's delicious. More than I can say" She wipes her tears. Y/N and Hawk look at each other confused.

"So...What exactly were you doing walking around in that old armour?"

"I'm on a personal quest to find the Eight Deadly Sin" Y/N and Meliodas share a quick look.

"Why would you do that?" Hawk asks "No one has any idea if those guys are still alive or not, and they're serious villains" They are cut off by a loud knocking at the door. Elizabeth jumps and looks around. Meliodas and Y/N turn their look to the door.

"Open up!" A voice orders "The villages told us who's in there" The man stops knocking "We, are the order of the Beard of the Mountain Cat. Serving under the holy knights from the foot of the mountain" He says "Wandering rust knight, member of the Eight Deadly Sins, come out! and do so peacefully"

"What's the matter with everyone today," Meliodas asks.

"Meh," Y/N says, finishing her booze.

"Holy knights," Elizabeth says.

"I don't think they're coming out," One of the holy knights say.

"This is kinda strange. When did somebody put a tavern on top of this hill?" Another Holy knight says.

"You know, now that you mention it, I don't remember seeing this place three days ago"

"On your guard, cause we're about to go up against a holy knight who answered directly to the king 10 years ago," The leader says.

"Come on, there's nothing to worry about, Allioni. I'm sure he's old by now"

"That's right. He won't be a match to fighters like us, trained by Sir Twigo himself"

"How many times have I told you, don't underestimate them. When the uprising happened in Liones, dozen of holy knights were butchered in an instant!"

"Yeah, about that..."

"What is it?"

"Well, I kinda wonder if things were exaggerated a little bit"

"And? What are you trying to say" Allioni asks?

"Well, everybody says that one holy knight is as powerful as 100 ordinary soldiers. So dozens of them murdered"

"Nah"

"I saw their bodies with my own eyes!"

"Everyone, calm down. For now, just stand back, Allioni" A small Holy knight says "I think we can handle one old man" He turns to the door "Hey! Get out here" Meliodas then walks out, Y/N by his side in her wolf form, he holds her red collar.

"Yeah? What's up"

"Who are you, little kid?" Allioni asks.

"Well, I'm the owner of this place. And this is my friend" Meliodas says, gesturing to Y/N. Y/N growls at the knights and one of the tall ones jump slightly "Don't worry, she only attacks command"

"The wandering rust knight is here. Send him out" Meliodas sighs and turns around.

"Better come out"

"Who is calling for me," Hawk says, walking towards them, dressed in armour "I'm Sir Hawk, the rusty knight" Hawk walks outside to stand on the other side of Meliodas.

"So this pig is one of the Eight Deadly Sins?"

"Well, of course, it's not"

"How about a little respect. I'm the captain of the order of Scraps Disposal!"

"There is no such order"

"If this pig is what you after, you can grill him if you want"

"Give it a rest will ya'!"

"You little punk" Allioni grabs Meliodas by the collar of his shirt and pulls him up. Y/N growls and snarls at him "Making fun of knights like this" Y/N continue to growl at him "And shut your mutt up!" Meliodas holds out his hand and Y/N stops. Elizabeth looks around the corner of the tavern before running off into the forest. However, one of the Holy knights spots her.

"Allioni! Look, a girl ran out the back!" Allioni drops Meliodas, who is caught by Y/N on her back.

"What! We have to inform Sir Twigo. She must be the wandering rust knight. Get her!" All the holy knights run to the forest after Elizabeth.

"Yes sir!"

"Hold it right there" Meliodas, Y/N and Hawk look to where the Holy knights ran off to.

"Oh no"

#Seven Deadly Sins #KingxReader #Reader Insert #SDS #Seven Deadly Sins Fandom #Fanfiction #Seven Deadly Sins Fanfiction

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oftatteredwings · 10 months

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for: @drcamland ( sissy! ) location: badger & boar

Dinner. Leo had decided it was better to do with something simple, pub grub at one of his favourite locals, the Badger and Boar —- somewhere like Ricci's would be too flash, for the moment at least. Maybe. He didn't really know. Since their run-in with one another, he'd been trying, he really had, to keep in contact with Sissy as much as he could, still not entirely sure where they stood. Any talk of divorce had died down, if anything, they were just trying to get to know one another again, properly this time.

Heading across the pub, he found a table over in the corner by one of the windows, comfy and cosy. "How's this work for you?" he questioned, flashing her a smile.

#✧ leo ( interactions )#( leo x sissy )

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isleofsodora · 11 months

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The Hooded Heroine (ch. 2 au)

The sun was beginning to set West in a seemingly endless sky while countless torches lined a great and mighty castle walls, the huge structure casted looming shadows and made the castle look even more cold and ruthless.

Multiple Royal Guards circled the front gates with either axes or swords on their hilts, while others patrolled the palace walls to keep watch for any trespassers sneaking about, and up near a high balcony a young woman peered down from her bedroom bay window, silently wishing that she could be free like the Brotherhood boys.

The girl sighed before she crawled off the balcony’s carved marble railing and walked back into her massive bedroom, which sported rich mahogany furniture and a bed that could easily sleep three large Øxxen boars, the light balayage girl was exhausted after such a long day of nothing but lessons and bitter teachers.

The young woman finally made up her mind, grabbing her cloak from her massive wardrobe she changed her outfit, casting aside her tight white dress, changing into a simple tunic and leggings. Opening the balconies doors she leapt out onto the castles sculpted overhang, staying out of sight and closed the windows before descending down multiple steps, her splendid white cloak fluttered behind her as she drew up her hood, slipping along till she snuck into an underground passage, moving swiftly like a Starling falcon.

Thomas belched happily as his stomach was now full of roasted Mândrakê and veggies, the other members of the Brotherhood were happily chatting away, several platters of full corse meals now housed hundreds of bones and other food scraps, nothing soothed the boys spirits than visiting the towns public pub.

“This is the life! Innit Percy?” Thomas gloated and slung his arm around his best friend shoulders, Percy gulped down his mouth full of Rümm and grinned brightly, “yeah! Your grab today was the best one yet!” The green cloaked figure chirped and held up his mug, Thomas hummed and raised his as well, patting his best friends shoulder.

The whole group was chatting happily until the doors to the glum looking joint slammed open, the whole chatter and bustle of the place silenced as a group of Royal Guards entered in, someone had tipped off that the entire Brotherhood was at the Sclērœdermâ Pub.

Thomas felt his eyes lock with the lead Royal and his heart thumped, in an instant everything turned to chaos, the midnight black haired boy feverishly scooped the silver pieces into the satchel and bolted away from the table, clutching onto his best friend as the Brotherhood all scrambled towards the back, fleeing from the charging Royals.

Chairs and tables banged and bashed to the ground, Ben zipped around the bar and Bill followed close behind, soon bottles of Bęur and Rümm were being hurled at the Royals, glass and liquor splashed everywhere while the twins howled with laughter.

Thomas barked for the twins to move it and they skated into the grease covered kitchen, knowing that there was an exit through the back corner. Ryan smashed through the barricaded back door and both Thomas and Percy rushed out behind him. “Thomas!” Ryan gasped when he looked around the narrow alleyway, Thomas whipped his gaze left and right and seen several Royals blocking either side, they were trapped like Mÿce.

“Go! To the roofs! Go!” Thomas shouted and hauled Percy up as the Royals charged them, Percy yelped as Thomas shoved him up along the cluttered wall but refused to give up, Ryan hurriedly reached the top of a tin laden roof, he looked over the edge with wide dark blue eyes, “grab a hold of my hand Percy!” Ryan shouted and Percy desperately reached for his hand while Thomas was still underneath his best friend, straining to keep Percy above his head, Thomas grunted before he stole a peek downwards, and seen a Royals armored cladded hand barely miss his ankle.

With a mighty heave Thomas lifted Percy up enough for Ryan to grab his pudgy palm, but Thomas lost his balance suddenly, he gasped as the tower of loosely stacked crates began to sway, everything cluttered against the wall began to topple, Percy looked over the edge of the roof just in time to see his best friend crash onto the dirty cobblestone below.

“THOMAS!!!” Percy screamed as his best friend was captured and pinned to the ground, Thomas grunted as his cheek was smashed hard into the pavement while rough edged ropes were tied around his wrists, there was nothing that he could do to wiggle out of this one.

“Spread out and find them! Take this Møndrâketē to the gates!” A Royal officer ordered and Thomas was roughly hoisted up by the collar of his soot covered cloak.

Thomas kept his head down but had a smirk on his face, they may have caught him, but Percy didn’t know that Thomas had slipped the satchel into his trousers, at least he and the others would be able to survive another day.

Soon many gasps could be heard when the two Royals yanked Thomas around the corner, the Prince of the Gallows had been caught, and there was nothing that the onlookers could do, no one noticed someone dressed in a white cloak following silently behind.

One of the Royals pulled Thomas by his beautiful midnight black hair down along steamy passageway, the young man growled in pain until a slab of brick crashed down behind the small group, crumbling into pieces. The second Royal whipped around with a raised spear but no one was there, Thomas caught a glimpse of someone on the rooftop above but couldn’t see the persons face.

Thomas was yanked harshly again before someone landed down in front of them, Thomas felt his eyes widen when he saw how beautiful the persons cloak was, one Royal suddenly rushed the stranger with the poised spear, without moving the white cloaked figure did some sort of motion with their hands, the Royal suddenly crashed flat on his armored back, the wind was completely knocked out of him from the force.

The white cloaked stranger began to stalk closer to the other Royal, Thomas seized the chance and suddenly turned on his heel, head butting the Royal who kept pulling his hair, Thomas knocked off the mans helmet and the Royal crashed to the ground.

Thomas twisted back around and the cloaked stranger stared from under their hood, the strangers face was covered with dark shadows from their raised hood.

“Turn around,” the stranger gruffed firmly and Thomas nodded, he felt his restraints loosen and before the cloaked stranger could leave Thomas grabbed the persons wrist, “c’mon! Follow me!” He said boldly before running back the other way, nearly dragging the cloaked figure with him.

Thomas ran as fast as he could taking a back route to the Brotherhoods hideout, praying that his best friend and the others made it out okay. The young man stopped by a seemingly blocked entrance and rapidly looked around, with lost breath he whispered, “don’t tell anyone about this place,” he growled and the white cloaked figure raised its hand, motioning that they wouldn’t tell.

Thomas faintly nodded before slipping into the tight space, the white figure felt themself go right then left, left then right again, by the time Thomas walked into the Brotherhoods secret hideout full of various clutter and junk, the stranger didn’t know how Thomas could navigate through the dark like that.

The blue cloaked figure glanced around before cupping his hands over his mouth, producing a strange clicking sound and to his relief he seen Percy, Ryan, Bill and Ben peek above a clutter of broken crates with various cloths casted across, like a make-shift barricade.

“Thomas!” Percy cried happily and leapt over the mass of objects, Thomas smiled and sighed with relief, “Percy!” He cried back and rushed forward with outstretched arms, the two nearly crashed into each other but neither of them cared, they were just glad that they were both okay.

Ryan stood fully up with a warm smile on his face and the twins began to egg at the two embracing friends, “oi! If ye keep actin’ like that ye minas well room tegetha!” Ben chortled and Bill snickered, Thomas shot the two a piercing blue glare and the twins immediately zipped their jowls shut.

Percy noticed the white cloaked figure and arched a confused brow, “Thomas? Who’s that?” The young dark brown haired boy pointed, Thomas nearly forgot all about the stranger that saved him from the Royals, the midnight black haired boy turned back round, looking the stranger up and down, who was staring silently from under their beautiful white cloaks hood.

“Right…now who exactly are you?” Thomas peered down the shorter figure, the white cloaked figure shuffled in place nervously before grasping onto the edges of their white hood, the Brotherhood boys all watched as the stranger lowered their hood to their shoulders, Thomas felt his sky blue eyes widen with surprise.

“Y-you’re…you’re a girl?!” He felt himself gasp as he continued to stare at the beautiful young female standing before the small group, the other young men couldn’t believe it either.

“U-um…hello,” the young girl cracked a nervous grin and Thomas felt a bit of blush tint his cheeks. “My names Hannah by the way!” The young female nervously smiled but all Thomas could do was stare with wide blue eyes, well, that’s what all the other boys could do too.

“A-and I’m…T-Thomas…” the blue cloaked boy stuttered, his eyes traced Hannah’s smooth face and she didn’t have a skin complexion anywhere, she looked just like a pure white snow Dovenillę.

Hannah’s wavy light balayage hair fell around her shoulders while her fierce golden brown colored eyes shone brightly, all the boys seemed transfixed to the white cloaked girl standing in their secret hideaway.

Ben and Bill both glanced at each other from either side of the Brotherhoods leader, right before a devious idea sprouted in their skulls, “so she’s the one who saved your arse, isn’t that right, Thomas?” Bill cooed and Ben roughly jabbed Thomas’s side, the taller boy stared with an appalled brow right before the twins howled with laughter.

“Ohoho! Oh poor Thomas!” Ben cried out, “gettin’ squeamish an’ dainty countin’ on a girl comin’ teh save you!” Bill added in next and Thomas felt his cheeks deepen in shade. “No! No! No!” The blue eyes boy protested, “it’s not like that at all!” Thomas shouted while swinging his arms about, trying not to let the twins pin him down on this one.

“This is too rich fer us! Thomas is called the great Prince of tha Gallows! An’ still needs a girl to save his arse!” Ben and Bill whelped with laughter, the older boy growled with a reddening brow before he suddenly lundged for the twins in a fit of anger, tackling the two and roughly crashed to the ground, Hannah stared with wide eyes as Ryan did his best to pry Thomas away from the two younger boys.

“Thomas please! Calm down! They’re kids y’know?!” Ryan grunted as he gripped tightly around Thomas’s torso, the blue eyed boy glared and roughly elbowed Ryan in his midsection before wrestling with the two soot covered twins. “Take that back! Take it back!” Thomas shouted in anger, nearly clubbing the twins with clenched fists.

Percy and Ryan were finally able to tug Thomas away from the trickster twins, Ben and Bill both glared as they wiped the dust off their dirty faces and clothes, but they both knew that they went too far this time. “Ben. Bill. Apologize. Now.” Percy said with unwavering eyes, the two young boys glanced down, shuffling in place and scuffed the ground with their dirty heels.

“Aye…sorry Thomas…” Bill mumbled before Ben slugged his brothers shoulder, the two then stared each other down, “sorry Thomas,” they both said in unison and the blue eyed teen sighed, dipping his head curtly before looking back over at Hannah.

“Thank you Hannah for your help, but this is no place for a woman, I’ll escort you out-“ “WAIT!” The white cloaked girl blurted and the other boys all stared with wide eyes, “w-wait…I…wanted to make a proposition,” Hannah glanced at each young man but locked her eyes with Thomas’s.

“And what’s that?” The black midnight haired boy tipped his chin up, staring the young woman down, Hannah didn’t break her focus as she keep her eyes locked with his, “I want to join the Brotherhood.”

#thomas and friends au #thomas the tank engine au #thomas the train au #fantasy au #fanfiction #creative writing

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love-rats · 2 years

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Farewell to this land's cheerless marshes Hemmed in like a boar between archers Her very Lowness with her head in a sling I'm truly sorry, but it sounds like a wonderful thing "I say, Charles, don't you ever crave To appear on the front of the Daily Mail Dressed in your Mother's bridal veil?" Ooh, ooh, ooh And so I checked all the registered historical facts And I was shocked into shame to discover How I'm the 18th pale descendant of some old queen or other Oh, has the world changed, or have I changed? Oh, has the world changed, or have I changed? As some 9-year-old tough, who peddles drugs I swear to God, I swear, I never even knew what drugs were Ooh, oh-oh, ooh So I broke into the Palace with a sponge and a rusty spanner She said, "Eh, I know, and you cannot sing" I said, "That's nothing, you should hear me play the piano" We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry And talk about precious things But when you're tied to your Mother's apron No one talks about castration, ooh, oh-oh, ooh We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry And talk about precious things Like love and law and poverty, ooh-ooh (These are the things that kill me) We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry And talk about precious things But the rain that flattens my hair, ooh (These are the things that kill me) All their life, they make love and then pierce through me Pass the Pub that saps your body And the church who'll snatch your money The Queen is dead, boys And it's so lonely on a limb Pass the Pub that wrecks your body And the church all they want is your money The Queen is dead, boys And it's so lonely on a limb Life is very long when you're lonely Life is very long when you're lonely Life is very long when you're lonely Life is very long when you're lonely

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liebgotts-lovergirl · 2 years

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Fire On Fire: Chapter 3

(Ch. 2), (Ch. 1)

Gallery II Taglist Application II Symbol Guide

Summary: After getting hyped up by her best friend, Skip, Alix gradually works up the courage to tell Lieb how she feels but it seems like Fate had other plans... A/N: I took some liberty here bc I don't know why the real Lieb started boxing but as a smaller-than-average Jewish kid whose parents enrolled him + his younger siblings in Catholic school to protect them from antisemitism, it made sense to me. As usual, all portrayals are based on the miniseries. WARNINGS: Mixed signals, Situationship, Antisemitism mention & LOTS of Angst

Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

Crossing the threshold of the Crown Pub from the stillness of the brisk night air was like entering another world.

The brassy, energetic sounds of swing jazz and the warm buzz of conversation filled the room, accented by the periodic staccato of clinking glasses on the bartop and the clacking of heels on the nearby dance floor.

Although The Crown was certainly not as spacious or extravagant as the big-band nightclubs she frequented back home in Philadelphia, Alix felt more at home there than she ever had at Ciro's or the Click Club.

There was a perpetual fire burning in the hearth to ward off the English nighttime chill, bathing the revelers in its cozy, golden glow as they danced and mingled in a vain effort to forget the war raging on their doorstep.

"Holy shit,” Skip exclaimed over his shoulder as he tried to forge a small path for the trio amid the sea of people heading for the bartop. "Looks like everybody and their brother came out tonight!"

Alix was inclined to agree. The place was packed, a kaleidoscope of different military uniforms and colorful dresses, and she wondered if the three of them would even be able to get a drink before closing time.

She turned behind her, ready to jokingly ask Malarkey if he was positive he didn’t want to go see his buddy at the Blue Boar instead, but he had disappeared.

“Uh, hey Skip,” Alix called ahead of her as she sidestepped a gaggle of village girls. "Don's gone AWOL!”

Muck stopped in his tracks and turned back to face her with an incredulous look.

“Wait, how?! We just got here!”

The young agent didn’t answer, instead scanning the room for their friend’s distinctive red hair. After a minute, she caught sight of him about six feet behind them, engrossed in conversation with a pretty blonde girl who was giggling like mad.

“Nevermind,” Alix laughed, gesturing in their direction. “Looks like we’re on our own tonight, Skipper.”

Her best friend followed her gaze.

“I don’t believe it! We just got here not five minutes ago and he’s already picked someone up!”

“Luck of the Irish,” Alix quipped and Skip inclined his head in agreement as they began trying to weave their way to the bar counter again.

There were no stools left so they’d have to stand, not that Alix minded.

One of the only perks of attending finishing school was that over time, she’d become as comfortable in high heels as she was in her combat boots.

“Guess it’s just us spoken-for saps tonight, huh Pyro?” Skip called over his shoulder but Alix shook her head.

"Speak for yourself, Skipper," she remarked, turning sideways to shuffle past a couple paratroopers from another company. “I'm not seeing anyone."

Skip snorted derisively as they approached the bar countertop.

"Right...you ever thought about telling Liebgott that? Because he seems awfully stuck on you for a guy you’re ‘not seeing’."

Alix felt her heart jump into her throat at the mention of Joe and she checked the door for the millionth time but still, no dice.

Looks like she’d gotten all dressed up for nothing.

“I’m not that lucky,” she sighed as her friend waved the bartender over to them. “He’s not interested.”

"Are you kidding? He’s definitely inter- wait, hold that thought."

Skip quickly spun to address the bartender.

"Just a pint of bitter for me, thanks, and for my friend…?"

He gestured for Alix to fill in, and she did.

"A gin and tonic please."

As the bartender nodded and walked away, Skip shook his head in disappointment.

"Always a G&T with you, Pyro," he chided jokingly. "That’s it: next round, you’re getting a beer. Time for you to broaden your horizons, Little Miss Finishing School!"

Alix wrinkled her nose at the glass of practically-black ale set before her friend.

It looked like sewage.

“I think I prefer my horizons narrow, thanks."

The paratrooper took a gulp of his beloved beer with a shrug.

“More for me then. Anyway, where were we? It was something about you and Romeo…”

He snapped his fingers, trying to call the memory back.

“Oh, that’s right! You were denying that he’s into you and I was about to prove you wrong.”

Alix pressed her red lips into a grimace and took a sip of her cocktail.

“I doubt it, Skipper. It’s been half a year already and we’ve hooked up three times. If he wanted more than that, he’s had plenty of opportunities to say it but he never does. We flirt, we fuck, then it’s radio silence again. He’s made it clear he’d rather be just friends and we’re barely even that.”

“I’m telling you, friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you,” the blond insisted.

“Seriously Pyro, I’ve known the guy for two years now, since Toccoa, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone else like that, okay, not ever. And you should hear the way he goes on and on about you! Honest to God, you’d think you put the stars in the sky!”

Alix’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Did Joe really feel the same way she did? Why hadn’t he said anything then? She hadn’t even dared to hope-

“I mean, didn’t you ever wonder why he was always self-sabotaging his injuries? Because nobody else does that!”

Alix regarded him quizzically and Skip sighed in exasperation.

“Because he was hoping to get back to the Aid Station to have you patch him up instead of Doc! He’s willing to take more pain just to see you! Honestly Pyro, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, what with you being a ‘combat nurse’-”

he gave her another pointed look so she understood he meant spy. “-and all.”

Alix took another sip of her G&T, her mind racing as she pored over every little interaction she could remember.

She had noticed lots of little moments, to be sure, but she hadn’t dared to put all the pieces together. She was trained to recognize attraction not love.

Joe was always showing up to the base’s medical tent when she happened to be on duty, assisting Doc Roe as she learned the ins and outs of her cover, but she hadn’t thought much of it. She was just grateful for the rare gift of his company during the daylight hours.

╔══ • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • ══╗

7 weeks earlier: April 14th, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

“I can tell you’ve been picking at it, you know,” Alix chided softly as she examined the bloody bayonet laceration snaking across Joe’s right palm.

“Yeah?” Liebgott asked, swallowing hard. “Uh, how can ya tell?”

“Because it was healing just fine earlier this week but–” Alix lightly traced a finger along his palm parallel to the wound to illustrate her point.

“–now the skin around it is ragged and bleeding again. Why do you do this to yourself, Joey?”

Joe shrugged.

“Guess I’m just a sucker for pain,” was the mumbled reply.

When Alix glanced up, still cradling his injured hand in hers, she found he was staring at her and their eyes met. There had never been a doubt that he was tough as nails, a warrior to the core, but the way he looked at her…his gaze instantly softened, his caramel-brown puppy eyes practically melting her heart in an instant as they lingered on her face, drinking in her every feature.

Her stomach filled with butterflies and Alix immediately shifted her gaze to anywhere else, quietly thanking God that Doc Roe had left minutes earlier to inquire about an incoming shipment of penicillin before he could see her turning redder than a tomato.

“Um, lemme just...lemme just go grab some solution real quick,” she stammered, jumping up and letting go of his hand, desperately trying to ignore the electricity of her fingers brushing his.

Joe scratched the back of his head with his good hand and leaned back with enviable ease, causing the empty wooden crate he was sitting on to creak slightly.

“Sounds good, Ziskeit,” he said to her retreating form. “I ain’t got nowhere to be.”

The young spy crouched nearby and rifled through three of the many boxes that were scattered haphazardly around the medical tent, swearing internally the whole time as she fumbled for supplies with shaky hands.

Goddamn it, Alix, he’s a cabbie from California not Clark fucking Gable. Why are you so nervous? Get it together.

The young agent could feel Joe’s eyes still on her but quietly steeling herself, she plucked the items she’d been searching for from the box and retook her seat next to him, arranging the supplies around her in the order she’d need them.

“You’re not gonna like this,” Alix warned in advance as she dampened a cloth with a bottle of disinfectant rinse. “But it has to be done. We don’t need you getting an infection.”

“Do what you gotta do, Zees,” he assured her and she only nodded in response.

Holding his hand still, she focused on swabbing the bloody wound as gently as she could to clean the blood and dirt from it.

Joe hissed involuntarily as the solution made contact with an intensifying burning sensation and Alix tightened her grip on his hand, feeling it jerk slightly like he might pull away before she was done cleaning it.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Alix winced and Joe gritted his teeth, eyes fixed solidly on the wall of the tent, clearly determined not to let another sound out. “The worst part is over now but it might take a bit for the burning feeling to go away...”

Joe shook his head and gave her a strained smile that seemed more like a grimace.

“Don’t worry bout it, dollface,” he managed. “Never been better.”

Alix reached for another cloth and dabbed the wound dry as gently as she possibly could.

“You’re lucky it’s not any deeper,” she remarked as she inspected the cut a final time. “Or I’dve had to go find Doc to do your stitches. They don’t let me do the big stuff around here.”

Joe cocked his head curiously, watching as she worked.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

Alix gave a short, mirthless laugh.

“Because I’m on a short leash as it is. Nix wants me preparing for my assignments 24/7. If it wasn’t OSS policy for operatives to spend multiple weeks on our covers, he would've had me done in two days and then back to the training grounds.”

Gingerly removing a fresh bandage from its casing, she nimbly wound it around Joe’s injured hand, just tight enough to stem any future bleeding.

As she wrapped it, Alix couldn't help but notice the slightly indented, pinkish-red scar tissue on his knuckles that contrasted sharply with the pale skin of his hand.

"What happened?" she asked softly, her brow furrowing with concern.

The paratrooper followed her gaze.

“Oh those?” He shrugged. “They’re nothin’. Just some old boxing scars.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you boxed!”

Joe grinned proudly at the amazement in her voice.

“Yeah, I started when I was real young. Got pretty good too.”

His smile faded and a tinge of bitterness entered his voice.

“Didn’t really have a choice.”

Alix tilted her head to look at him.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Joe took a deep breath and spoke on the exhale, the slight lilt in his raspy tenor being replaced with a hard edge.

"Growin’ up where I did…we were the only Jewish kids. My mom and dad, they came here from Europe an’ they did their best to protect us, even sent us to Catholic school hopin’ it would keep us safer. But me, I didn’t wanna hide our ancestry like it was somethin' to be ashamed of and neither did my sisters. So every day, we got picked on for it, every fuckin’ day.”

His voice was dangerously low, his hands quivering with barely-suppressed rage.

“And nobody did a goddamn thing.”

Alix sat frozen beside him, feeling her heart splinter into a million pieces as the man she loved began to recount years of torment at the hands of his schoolmates and how the administration had turned a blind eye to it all.

“Started takin’ boxing lessons so I could put up a better fight. I was the scrawniest but I was good, I had to be…I’d run my mouth again and again at school, really work ‘em up, so they’d hafta go after me with the worst of it. Anythin’ to keep ‘em away from my little brother and sisters. They didn’t deserve to go through all that.”

He was staring intently at the ground, jaw tight, and Alix could tell he was just barely holding it together.

“Neither did you, Joey,” she murmured, wrapping a tentative arm around his shoulders. “Neither did you.”

To her surprise, he completely melted into her touch, slumping into it as the weight of the memories overcame him. Wrapping both arms around her waist, he pulled her into a close embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her like a drowning man clings to a lifesaving piece of driftwood in the middle of a stormy sea.

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, just holding each other in the silence, when-

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Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

The clang of a glass being set on the bar top jolted Alix out of her thoughts.

"Shit I'm sorry, Skipper, did you say something?"

"Jeeez," Skip marveled, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Welcome back to Earth, Pyro! We missed ya."

Alix rolled her eyes playfully.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. Now, what were you saying?"

Skip took a long swig of his beer before responding,

"Look, bottom line is we could be jumping into a war zone any day now! Quit mooning over Lieb already and tell him how you feel, before you lose your chance!"

Alix smiled appreciatively and started to say something when the door opened and both of the pair’s heads turned.

Floyd Talbert entered first followed by Joe, whose roguish good looks immediately filled Alix with jitters.

He always cleaned up exceptionally well: his brown hair was combed back, a few unruly strands kicking out onto his forehead, and Alix could tell he’d had his uniform pressed for that night.

He leaned against the wall beside the door frame, coolly finishing his cigarette with all the ease of a film star and glancing at his watch.

Skip was right, Alix mused as she watched him and Tab talk amongst themselves. The end of the world really could be tomorrow. She needed to tell him today.

Smoothing her form-fitting red dress, Alix mumbled a quick prayer to whoever was listening and took a last swig of her G&T.

“Do I look okay?” she asked shakily and Skip gave her a once-over before reaching over for a supportive pat on the shoulder.

“Like an Italian Hedy Lamarr,” he assured. “Now enough stalling, go get 'em, tiger!”

Alix took a deep breath and started off in the direction of the entrance to greet Joe and see if she could get him alone when suddenly, another arrival stopped her dead in her tracks.

She was seized by a violently sick feeling, as though someone had suckerpunched the wind right out of her.

Joe had brought a date.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━━━∆∆━━━━∆∆

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