#sorry im STILL losing it over how well done the fabric is pls if u get a chance commission cat <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgeluz · 7 years

Note

hey:) for the ask thing, im about 5'5, i have long wavy light brown hair and big brown eyes w olive skin. my myers briggs is campaigner&my star sign is a cancer! i'm kinda built (?) bc i do competitive sport, i play lotta instruments, and im v social. i have adhd yikes and anxiety YIKES but it's chill lol, sometimes that does get in the way though. for the fandom, BoB would be great:) also ya u are a legend i didn't mean another word for champ i deadass just meant legend. thanks ❣

NO MORE PLS.

Wow. But… if I were… a legend… I would’ve gotten this done FOREVER AGAOAUHDFgrihEJADF. I’m so SORRY. Babe. But to make it up to you, this blurb is fucking LONG. @v-esperteen

The Character I See You As: Buck Compton. HIGHLY SOCIAL? SPORTS? ANXIOUS? You got yourself a recipe for BUCK COMPTON. Aka the wonderful, sweet lil sunshine that loves literally everyone and makes everyone feel so comfortable and relaxed (and sometimes not relaxed depending on how boisterous he gets). I love him because even though he has all of these amazing qualities, he is independent to a fault (daring to argue with Winters I scream he’s–), highly emotional (losing his friends literally KILLED HIM) and anxious (though he hides it well behind his EVERYTHING IS FINE face or his dead inside face).

Your Three Best Friends: Don Malarkey, Alex Penkala, Skip Muck (aka the squad)

The One You Don’t Get Along With: Henry Jones. Sweet, sweet Henry. It’s no one’s fault, but he’s so composed and so put together that you honestly don’t know what to do with him. Try and joke with him? He just stares at you (maybe smiles pitifully). Try and initiate conversation? Part of you burns because he takes himself so damn seriously and you decide never to try that again lmao. You like him… you just don’t know what to do with him and him with you, so you just stay out of each other’s hair.

Who I Ship You With: Shifty Powers. The ENFP plus the shy, cute, unassuming, but also incredibly brave and intelligent Shifty Powers? HELLO HOW FREAKING ADORA- I digress. Shifty is wonderful because he’s mellow and gentle, gets embarrassed easily if you try and shower him with affection, but somehow keeps cool in the middle of combat, never gets injured, etc. His name is Shifty for a reason, one minute he’s there and the next you’re like ?? hello ?? Shifty? ANYWAY. I love him a lot. He’s like the least anxious person. Whenever you have your anxious moments he’s there to cuddle you and tell you in his sweet lil accent that everything is gonna be just fine (dont mind me im crying).

Wildcard: Captain. 2nd Battalion Staff S-3. 101st Airborne.

Lil Blurb??: Your charisma got you here. Your athleticism, sharp wit, ability to make solid decisions under pressure, and aptitude for route planning got you here. You were a valuable assistant to Colonel Strayer. Your gender also got you here: pouring coffee for him at 6:30 in the morning, tapping your foot with a bright smile on your face. You pretended it was fine that you were reduced to such menial tasks. You knew it was too good to be true that you would be used for much after being moved from the WAAC to the 101st. You had trained hard with a handful of women to handle the difficulties of battle–you would never see combat, but you would get as close as any woman ever had.

But that still meant making coffee for all of the men, pouring it, and often being left out of discussions. You kept reminding yourself that it was insane that you were here, in England, part of the planning for D-Day. You wouldn’t get to drop though, not like the boys. Knowing that crushed you, not because you particularly wanted to see combat and death, but because you had grown so close to the everyone. To be left behind was cruel. You were a favorite on Easy Company’s sports teams. It was Buck Compton that had used his charms to sway you into joining their soccer game. You were just as uneasy as the men, but once the game started, it was like you’d been playing with them forever.

Malarkey, Penkala, Muck, you, Compton, and Luz versus Guarnere, Toye, Heffron, Talbert, and Skinny Sisk. It was the most fun you’d ever had, throwing elbows and repeatedly trying to trip Tab (who kept throwing hands and swearing he was just going easy on you). You even managed to get a laugh out of Toye, something you hadn’t accomplished before. You patted yourself on the back for that one. But damn, it would hurt to be cut from the friends you’d made. You had brothers. These boys were like your brothers now, far from home, keeping you company in the daylight.

But, despite those boys being the group you had become so close with so quickly, it was the charming Southerner that caught your attention right off the bat. Powers was all broad shoulders passed down from generation to generation; he was meant to hold a gun, you could tell by the way he cradled his rifle against his arm. It was like an extension of himself, but that wasn’t the only thing you admired about the unassuming Shifty. He was a hell of a shot, probably the best in the company, but he was about as quiet, humble, and bashful as they came. And you thrived on making him blush.

First it was through subtle compliments when you caught him alone, without Tab or Skinny by his side. You would sit while Shifty cleaned his rifle, admiring his perfect form when shooting or suggesting he was the best you’d ever seen. You didn’t push him, you read him well enough to know he was easily made uncomfortable. You asked him about home, about his favorite gun, about the squirrels he used to shoot up in Virginia. Shifty would smile fondly at you, then his shoes, and lean back against the wall or the back of his chair, tipping his head back and squinting his eyes. He always took his time talking–he was deliberate. You loved that about him. When you sat with him it was like time stopped for just a sweet moment, like the anxieties and the frustration that fluttered in the back of your mind stopped.

One night, after sharing a drink or two, you both wandered into the nearby cow pasture and he told you about the farm he grew up on. “I did always like cows the most,” he murmured, running his hands along the dew-ridden grass, the other hand rubbing his jaw. “Big eyes, big ears.” He trailed off, screwing up his nose, trying to think of other reasons why he liked them so much. “Well I suppose they never did want nothing bad for nobody,” he finished with a short nod, drawing both hands behind him to lean on. “Chickens were too cranky, and the horses were too smart for me. I almost got kicked once. My daddy almost lost it, started hollerin’ about how I needed to stop sneakin’ up on ‘em. I was too quiet.”

You, yourself, had never been so quiet in your life. You were laying on your side, fingers threaded through the grass beside Shifty’s hand. You wanted nothing more than to keep listening, to drink his words in, to know him from the inside out, but he stopped and furrowed his brow. “You know, I never tried cow tippin’ before.” You looked up through your eyelashes, face flushed from the alcohol that still burned in the back of your throat.

“What do we do, huh, Powers? Do we just run at them?” You had never done it before either. It sounded just like something a boy from Virginia would want to do.

“S’pose so, I never thought about it.”

“Wanna do it?”

“No, I don’t think that would be very kind,” he replied, sliding back down until his head hit the ground. He rolled onto his side and blinked up at you, a crooked smile gracing his features. “I’m too tired to run anyway.”

“Mmhm,” was your defeated reply, still propped up on your elbow, hovering over him. You felt a little tired too, buzzed, slipping down until your face was right beside his. You laughed. He laughed a little too, but he also looked like a deer caught in headlights. You weren’t one for personal space, at least not with people you enjoyed being around, and you hadn’t thought that it might be pushing it for him to be so close.

“Never kissed anyone neither,” Shifty murmured after a moment. You tilted your head slightly, leaning back.

“Really?”

“I didn’t play football. I didn’t live in town. I don’t think I had a lot goin’ for me. Bad luck.”

You quirked a brow. Your heart was hammering against your chest. You weren’t supposed to being doing this with an enlisted man. You were his superior, and the reason most had objected to women in the military was for this damn reason exactly. “Why did you bring that up, Shifty?” You were just antagonizing him now.

He was silent for a moment, searching your gaze for any emotion other than drunken amusement. “Well, Y/N, I-I rightly think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I was just thinkin’ that. I’m sorry–” He broke off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was thinkin’ I wouldn’t mind kissin’ you.”

“Well, Shifty Powers, I don’t know what those girls back in Virginia were thinking,” you chuckled, reaching to grab the fabric of his shirt. “I must do my civic duty after all, send you off to war right,” you murmur before planting one on him, gentle, careful, trying not to spook him. This was real, you reminded yourself. And it would be gone soon, so you’d best enjoy it while it lasted. He draped his arm over your waist, pulling you in close, the other hand supporting your cheek.

Shifty was a quick learner, you found, and you also discovered it would be very, very difficult to reverse what you’d done. After that night, discreet as you tried to be, he nearly gave it all away with his puppy eyes and his silent begging. And you were a sucker, running off with him to the fields and pastures whenever you could under the cover of darkness to romp, wrestle, play, and kiss a little before he and the rest of the men were dropped over Normandy.

#v-esperteen #ask #ask game

3 notes · View notes