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Dancing, are we?

No, you are drunk

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I’d like to say that Dick Winters is the real life version of a man written by a woman

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𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 / 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘 :    achilles and patroclus

Lewis never gave much thought to love until the sun rose in his sky. Meeting Richard Winters was like seeing dawn for the first time…  and once he felt its warmth on his skin, he never wanted to pull away.

“Are you afraid of anything?” he asks, in the fragile hours leading up to battle, with Dick’s legs intertwined with his, and his lover’s hand caressing his shoulder like a precious thing.

Dick’s lips quirked; he was always hard to read, but in that moment, Lewis felt as though the truth was somewhere just out of his grasp, slipping away the further he reached for it.

“Everyone is afraid of something, Lew,” Dick replied gently. “That’s what makes us human.”

To all the rest, Dick was more than that  —  a god amongst men, fearless on the battlefield, leading his troops like War itself thrummed through his veins. He was never wounded; he never lost; and he never shied from a fight. In the midst of blood and carnage, Dick rose above it all, glowing as though Death could never touch him. He was impossible. He was beautiful. They all adored him, but only Lewis loved him.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked. Dick leaned in to kiss him in lieu of a reply.

He did not know, until the arrow pierces his own flesh. One lucky shot, through a weak point in his helmet, and he is gone. It is quick, easy, painless. Lewis doesn’t even know what hit him, until he finds himself wandering through a field of fallen warriors, translucent feet gliding above the blood-soaked grass. Here is nothing, and it is an empty place  —  no light, no warmth, no truths to be told, no sun to follow.

Eventually he find Dick, of course. ( He has always found Dick, wherever they go. ) Raging, gaunt with grief and grey from sleepless nights, he paced his tent until the early house and sharpened his blades like a promise unspoken. No longer does he glow with the promise of an immortal eternity. The light is fading, snuffed out by grief, and Lewis watches as the shadows consume him.

Dick manages to avenge him, and dies in battle moments later. It is a bitter ending to a story which should have played out sweeter.

For once, Lewis is the sun, and he is there to meet him. Dick falls boneless into his arms, shaking with the relief of being able to hold him once again… and Lewis suddenly understands exactly what he was missing.

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….So I said What do you want, sweetheart? And you said Kiss me

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Picnic. Dick reads to Lew.

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Dick doesn’t look weak, but he has a kind of fragile handsomeness. It gets me all the time when I look at him.

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one thing i just realised about scho, one thing that really sort of... defines his gentleness, is his honesty. his complete and utter dedication to it.

when he told blake that yes, he was dying - he doesn’t want to answer the question, he doesn’t want to say it out loud, but he will not lie to him. he will be there for him in his last minutes, and the fact that he doesn’t lie means that they get to spend that time in complete honesty, in truth - blake gets to love the world for two more minutes, gets to love scho for two more minutes, truly and utterly, because schofield did not lie.

when he left lauri in the cellar, he could have said “i will come back for you. i’ll come back for you and the child.” but he knows he won’t, and he doesn’t. he can’t. and rather than give her false hope, rather than give her something imaginary to cling to when she needs to focus on surviving for and by herself, he simply says “i’m sorry.” he will not lie to her.

when he confessed to blake what had truly happened to his medal instead of simply agreeing with blake that he had lost it and avoiding a painful argument.

when he admitted “i don’t remember” instead of comforting blake and saying “no, it was nothing like this, this isn’t the push, don’t worry.”

and the only time he breaks his vow of honesty, of quiet, painful truth, is when he lies to joe and says it was very quick. because all of his truth comes from a place of wanting people he cares about to find their own strength, of wanting to take himself out of their lives and leave them with a quiet commitment to themselves, of wanting no one to depend on him in case there comes a day when he isn’t there, and because he doesn’t believe he is someone to depend on, and because he believes so completely in them; of a place of love, of truly, deeply caring for everyone he knows, however briefly he’s known them for - until that truth will cause suffering instead of peace, instead of strength, instead of belief in themselves. then, out of love, and quietly, softly, he will lie.

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George Mackay at his most beautiful: a few favourite gifs

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their friendship is SO underrated

I got an anonymous request to do a gifset for the great friendship between Luz & Lip, so of course this was a joy to make! ❤️

#band of brothers #george luz #carwood lipton

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bones get tired, and they can't carry all the weight

or in which Robert Grogan has a conversation with someone about his pregnant wife

Characters: Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters; Kitty Grogan/Harry Welsh; Richard Winters & Original Male Character(s)

Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death; Character Death; Dementia; Alzheimer's Disease; Mortality; POV Outsider

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“Are you waiting on someone?”

Bobby blinks then turns to the unexpected speaker sat next to him on the bench. Snow white hair, large wire-rimmed glasses, and sunken cheeks wrinkling around a small smile that is just on the side of polite enough for a nonthreatening stranger. He waits there, expectantly, looking so kind in that distant way, and Bobby feels his initial surprise quickly sink into a brief, but nevertheless painful, pang of grief that fades into a familiar weight in the pit of his stomach.

Despite himself, Bobby smiles back.

“No, sir. I’m on the way home,” he tells the old man. “The missus will be the one waiting. She’s. Uh. She’s pregnant, you know.”

The old man’s eyebrows go up in delight. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Bobby says, letting a bit of pride leak into his voice. “Just a few more months to go.”

“That must be so exciting.”

“It is.”

They’re quiet for a moment, lulled into silence by the abrupt meditation of life that always seems to settle over people when they’re confronted with the possibility of a new child. Or a dead body. Bobby flinches, mentally berating himself for going there, but finds his eyes slipping, discreetly, toward the old man on this bus bench, who is now staring at the ground with a small smile. Similar to the polite one he’d had on from before, but this time tinged with a sense of nostalgia and excitement. Like he’s thinking of somebody—somebody he loves very much—who would also love to hear this excellent news.

Bobby’s eyes grow warm.

“I hope you don’t mind,” says the old man, who looks over at Bobby with that same smile, oblivious to his distress. “It’s not the same, but my partner and I. We can’t have children. But our very good friend—we served together in Europe—he’s going to have a baby soon. We can’t wait to meet him.”

The old man smiles wider, and the growing warmth finally spills over.

“Oh,” he exclaims, smile falling as Bobby hurries to catch his stray tears with the back of his hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. Here—have this.”

He shakily hands over his hanky and Bobby takes it without any fuss. Quickly, he wipes his face and resolves to hold the rest of it back. “I’m sorry,” he says, quietly. “That, uh. That happens a lot.”

“It’s alright,” his companion tells him, kindly, reaching over the scant distance between them to pat Bobby’s shoulder then give it a reassuring squeeze. His grip is not as strong as it used to be, Bobby notices. The thought sends a sharp lance of pain down his chest. “It’s alright. It must be frightening, huh?”

Dumbly, Bobby nods.

“I’m sorry. Babies are a handful no matter how much you must want them. Are your parents going to help?”

The warmth threatens to spill again. Bobby closes his eyes to keep it in. “No, sir,” he says, bringing the handkerchief up to his running nose. “My mom died two years ago. Dad followed couple months after.”

The old man’s brow furrows in solidarity. “I’m sorry.”

“S’just me, the missus, and my godfather now,” Bobby confesses, dangerously close to hiccuping, a habit he hasn’t managed to kick from his childhood. “And my godfather… well. He’s. Uh. He’s sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the old man says, hand now rubbing up and down Bobby’s back, clumsily, in a soothing gesture he clearly isn’t used to performing but is, nevertheless, trying very hard to. “And I’m sorry I made you remember.”

Bobby shakes his head in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture, refusing to look up and focusing instead on the hanky. It’s white and pressed, sans the wrinkles he’d caused, gripping it so tight in his hand. Little by little, he forces his grip to relax, just as little by little, he forces himself to look back up at his companion, taking him in for the second time today; the down tick of his mouth, the lines on his face, the crow’s feet at his eyes’ corners that run all the way to his temples where the snow-white hair begins. Except, Bobby realizes, it’s not all white. There are stray strands of copper still there, holding on to hope. Just one or maybe two. They poke out of the colorless expanse to wink at Bobby in the setting sunlight.

His eyes, too, though clouded over by cataracts, are themselves not devoid of all color. They are a dull blue-grey behind his glasses—faded though they are, and more grey now than blue, like a gentle mid-winter morning. Or maybe like something had made him cry so much that it washed all the color out.

Bobby sniffles, brings the hanky to his mouth to stop the sob that threatens to spill out. He disguises it as a cough.

“It’s cold out today,” Bobby deflects, turning an eye up to the darkening sky. “You should get inside.”

“It’s alright, I’ve handled colder before. Besides,” the old gentleman says, giving Bobby another pat on the back before taking his hand back to hold both in his lap. Bobby watches him lace his fingers together, eye drawn to the gold band wound around his left ring finger. “I’m waiting for Lew.”

Bobby’s voice shakes when he asks; “Oh? Where’d he go?”

“Just to the store,” Dick answers matter-of-factly. “We’re out of milk. I like to wait for him outside, so that I’m the first thing he sees when he gets home.”

Oh, what a kindness it is. Forgetting.

“You can wait for him inside, sir,” Bobby urges, reaching out to wrap an arm around Dick’s shoulders to give him a hearty squeeze. “C’mon, you’ll catch a cold out here.”

Dick blinks. Then blinks again. “But—”

“Sir, I insist,” Bobby says, smiling through the wobbling of his chin. The pooling distress in his eyes. “Let me help you, since you helped me.”

For a passing moment, Dick looks uncertain. He looks at Bobby, really looks, his eyes for the first time today sharpening a bit in something resembling hesitation and suspicion.

But it’s only for a moment. Whatever he’s looking for, he must have found—or maybe, he’d forgotten he was looking at all. Just like he has everything else. “Alright,” Dick says, tiredly, docile as a lamb. “Alright.”

“Ok, up and at ‘em,” Bobby urges as he helps Dick up to his feet with little difficulty. The irony is not lost on him. The good major’s still so spry for his age, walking around and sitting in the cold with no help, not even from a cane; but with a mind so shattered he could barely recognize his own godson.

Just thinking about it makes Bobby want to cry and cry and never stop.

You held me in your arms, once, he thinks, helping his hobbling godfather to his assigned room. Now it’s my turn.

“There we go,” Bobby says, finally, after he’s managed to get Dick back in his bed and under the covers. Already, he’s starting to nod off, thin eyelids drooping over his tired eyes. Carefully and slowly, so as not to startle, Bobby takes his glasses and lays them on the bedside table. “I know it must be a foreign concept to you, sir, but try and get some sleep, yeah?”

“But,” Dick grumbles, struggling half-heartedly against his soft pillows. “Lew hasn’t come home yet.”

Bobby lets out a laugh that sounds very much like a sob. “It’s alright,” he soothes. “You know he always makes it home.”

Except.

Except.

Except—

“Fine,” Dick huffs, finally giving in to the pleas of his tired body and sinking back into the soft, hospice sheets, tipping his head back to lay against the soft pillows. “Wake me when he gets back, alright?”

Bobby hums an affirmative and in minutes, Dick is asleep.

Quietly, he stays for a few moments, watching Dick breathe and timing his own breaths to the steady rise and fall of his thin chest. Once he’s satisfied that the old man will not wake, Bobby stands and reaches into his pocket for the clean handkerchief he’d brought with him, placing it on the bedside table next to the glasses before pocketing the damp one Dick had lent him. He’ll have to wash this one, too, and return it soon. If he keeps doing this, Dick’ll run out of hankies. And he has so few already.

Carefully, he bends at the waist and places a small kiss to his godfather’s brow in a poor mimic of the way Lew used to kiss Bobby and wish him a good nap, when he’d stay over at their farm house.

“Sleep tight, Uncle Dick,” he says, gently squeezing his delicate wrist. “I’m going to visit Mom and Dad and Uncle Lew, now. Be good to the nurses, ok?”

No answer, not that he expected one. Dick sleeps on, and Bobby takes one long look at his feeble frame before silently exiting the room, leaving the door open behind him.

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so i’ve been having a lot of brainrot lately but…this is been my main brainrot. ladies, gays, and theys may i present my winnix x parent trap au madness! (sorry if this has been done before!)

it’s 1986 in aldbourne, england. Lewis Nixon, a journalist for the new york times and dick winters, a history professor at F&M elope after spending the summer together traveling europe. shortly after having both of there daughters, the two divorce and each have sold custody. lew gets annie, and dick gets maggie.

thirteen years later, annie and maggie get sent to the same camp in maine. the girls fence and HATE eachother and start pulling pranks. annie thinks maggie is a country bumpkin and maggie thinks annie is one of those arrangtont, spoiled, rich girls from new york. one prank goes too far, and both of the girls are led to live in the isolation cabin. with this time alone, they grow closer. they both learn that they love oreo’s and peanut butter (they served it at the wedding since lew knew how much dick loves them), they both play poker (lew’s fav), and both of them only have one parent and we’re born on the same day. annie, being just like miss nixon’s baby boy, puts the pieces together that they are twins! so they create a plan. they will swap places. annie will go to lancaster with dick, and maggie will go to new york city with lew. after some piercings, haircuts, and learning, the girls switch!

so annie meets dick at the airport. also i forgot to mention that maggie always wears the leather paratrooper’s jacket since her dad gives it to her as a memory. annie starts crying when she meets dick bc he’s so kind, and he finally looks like her. dick takes her to there little farm in lancaster and they go horseback riding, they bake pies, hiking, etc. since annie is a city girl, she isn’t used to all of this and almost slips by saying “europe is better then this!” and dick just chuckles. because she sounds a lot like lew but he doesn’t catch onto it. so annie starts asking since she feels like dick is really lonely, except for his dog and farmer’s hand, kitty. mEANWHILEEEE

so maggie goes to new york and meets harry, lew’s best friend and butler, at the airport. harry is maggie/annie’s bestie and is like “sweet pea!” and they have there little handshake and it’s SO cute. so anyways maggie meets lew and she is so HAPPY. also forgot to mention maggie cut her hair since annie had short hair and pierced her ears and lew is like “i love the new look!” and then he takes her shopping for new accessories bc king shit. so they go out to dinner and then maggie has to meet lew’s new girlfriend, kathy. who hates dog’s, children, AND wants lew for the money. maggie is like “oh shit we GOTTA stop this” so they come up with a plan!

kitty is growing suspicious of annie’s behavior, and they talk, and kitty nearly cried bc she is a proud aunt. harry finds out about maggie and they go on a long walk. the two girls hatch a plan. maggie is going to confess to lew about her true identity but doesn’t because she see’s her dad drunk, and all sad, and backs out. annie decides to tell dick and dick is just. best dad in the world about it. annie tells dick that nixon wants to switch the girls in boston, and kitty and harry come along. oh and kathy😫 and BOTH OF THERE DOGS. dick’s collie and lew’s terrier, who i do not know to name. up for suggestions tho! ANYWAYS

that same weekend, kathy, nix, harry, and maggie travel to this hotel in boston to plan for the wedding. same weekend, dick, kitty, and annie go to the same hotel. lew see’s dick in the pool and is heartstruck and falls into the pool and they both learn that the girls tricked them into this. meanwhile, harry is in a speedo and kitty falls in love with him. the girls decide to recreate the night that both of the men met in the subhurbs of boston and even rent a little cabin for them, but they fail to rekindle the relationship bc dick won’t be with lew due to alcohol issues, and lew won’t be with dick until he stops repressing his emotions. the twins are like “FUCK” and plan a camping trip that everyone goes on. dick, lew, maggie, annie, and even kathy. one big family. it GOES ON

kathy keeps feeding nix alcohol so dick won’t want him, but nix finds this out, and says he’s gonna quit drinking and go to rehab for dick and the girls. so kathy shows her true colors and the wedding gets called off. back at the cabin, dick and lew walk around the park and talk about there spark. dick refalls in love with lew, but they choose it’s best if they go there separate ways. so dick and maggie go back to lancaster but annie and lew bet them there. lew is all like “flying is faster” and he says he’ll change for dick. they kiss and make up and it’s a big happy family!

the prologue is that the girls both stay with dick while nix is in rehab. the story ends with nix coming back to the farm and nix is like “am i going the right way?” and dick is like “yes you are” and big family hug and FIREWORKS BOOM

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shifty and grant being tubas makes my tuba player heart very happy

Easy Company as Marching Band Instruments! By a Band Kid!

a/n : i will make this an au if this gets enough love.

Richard Winters : Drum major. He’s a leader. He has a kind heart but isn’t afraid to use his voice. Also, batons. But, he played trumpet, as well.

Lewis Nixon : Saxophone. They have a certain attitude and I think Nixon fits it. Also, Careless Whisper constantly.

Ronald Speirs : Either assistant drum major or a mellophone. I see him as both.

Harry Welsh : Without a doubt, flute. I see him as that and only that. No argument.

Carwood Lipton : Clarinet! There are a lot of super sweet but super headstrong kids I know that play clarinet. So, yeah!

Chuck Grant : Tuba. I just...I don’t know? He’s a tuba, alright?

Floyd Talbert : Trumpet. You know them, the popular, loud, charming type. That’s Floyd if I’ve ever heard him.

Shifty Powers : Tuba, also. They are so sweet and I just can picture him with it.

Don Malarkey, Skip Muck, Alex Penkala : Okay, as a trombonist myself, these men belong to us! My section and the Mortar Boys lowkey have the same energy!

Alton More : Snare. Again, I picture him playing it really well.

George Luz : Trombone, again. Another win for us, might I add.

Joe Liebgott : QUADS. Dear God, this...this is his calling. My friend is essentially a small Ross McCall as Liebgott. So, quads!

David Webster : Flute. It makes sense.

Eugene Roe : Flute, again. Soft, sweet, angelic? Yes. Gene is a flute.

Babe Heffron : Trumpet? Absolutely. He’s the type to play on the field and go all out even if he is a freshman.

Bill Guarnere : Trumpet, also. He takes Babe under his wing.

Johnny Martin : He’s the band director. But he played mellophone.

Bull Randleman : Bass drum! I feel like he’d be really good at it.

Joe Toye : Quads, for the reason being BECAUSE.

Moe Alley : Clarinet. Gorgeous boy.

Frank Perconte : Trumpet, because he is small and all the trumpets I know are small.

Don Hoobler : Saxophone, because Lewis Nixon needs someone to play Careless Whisper with!

Roy Cobb and Herbert Sobel : Cymbals. All the cymbals I know are goddamn assholes.

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Unforgivable Reality.

Babe Heffron as Armin Arlert - Band of Brothers x Attack on Titan

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanart #babe heffron #edward heffron #band of brothers au #attack on titan au

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Don't Miss, Shifty...

Shifty Powers as Sasha Braus - Band of Brothers x Attack on Titan

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanart #shifty #shifty powers #darrell powers #band of brothers au #attack on titan au

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An Unusual Predecessor...

Joe Liebgott as Ymir - Band of Brothers x Attack on Titan

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanart #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #band of brothers au #attack on titan au #ymir

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To My Dearest David...

David Kenyon Webster as Historia Reiss - Band of Brothers × Artack on Titan AU

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanart #david webster #david kenyon webster #webgott #band of brothers au #attack on titan au