#bill smith imagines

[mads-nixon]

You Before Me

Bill 'Hoosier' Smith x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: hiiii! this is my first ever hoosier fic, so please let me know what y'all think!! i've recently become obsessed with jacob pitts lol! this is about the fictional portrayal of the H company boys. i have nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Summary: During the battle for the Peleliu Airfield, (y/n) and Bill are separated after both being injured by a mortar shell.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: injuries, blood, straight angst with fluff

PELELIU AIRFIELD: SEPTEMBER, 1944

Ringing. 

It was all that filled (y/n)’s senses, drowning out the surrounding chaos. She could taste the acrid tang of smoke in the air, making her cough and struggle to catch her breath. Everything seemed hazy and distorted, the world spinning around her. Blinking, she tried to clear her vision and make sense of what was happening. Dust and dirt swirled in the air, making it hard to see beyond a few feet. She lay on her back, helmet long gone, trying to remember what had led to that moment.

They were taking the airfield.

Hoosier was with her and then–BILL!

“Bill,” she croaked weakly, blindly reaching out for him with a shaky hand, finding nothing but dirt and rocks. She rolled onto her side to look for him, but the movement caused white-hot pain to shoot through her body, sending sharp jolts of agony up her left leg. The pain was fierce, radiating from her ankle and calf. Every motion seemed to intensify the pain, making her grit her teeth as she sat up on her elbows, her eyes nervously drifting to her legs. (Y/n)’s eyes widened as she took in the damage. Her left calf was littered with shrapnel, and her ankle was turned at an unnatural angle, both oozing with blood.

She took a nervous gulp, throwing her head back against the rocks of the crater. 

This was not good.

Taking a shuttering breath, she called out again. “Bill, are you there?

Through the ringing, she heard a pained grunt from her left. She recognized the sound instantly, and her heart fell, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Bill!” she cried into the haze, panic gnawing at her as she searched frantically for him.  She prayed the smoke would clear and she’d see him looking back at her, unscathed with his signature lopsided smirk, but answers to prayers aren’t always what we’d like them to be. Through the smoke, she spotted his still form to her left, sprawled out on his stomach, his face etched in pain. Her heart lurched with both relief and fear. When she spotted the growing red stain on his lower thigh, the relief disappeared.

“No, no, no,” (y/n) whispered to herself before raising her voice. “Bill? Can you hear me?”

Summoning every ounce of strength, she rolled over and began to crawl to him, dragging her injured leg behind her. As she forced herself to crawl towards him, her breaths came out in ragged gasps, chest heaving with the effort to overcome the searing torment. The muscles in her leg protested every inch of progress, and she gritted her teeth, trying to muffle the pained sounds that left her lips. (Y/n)’s broken ankle got caught on a particularly sharp rock, and she whimpered involuntarily, a low, guttural sound escaped her as she clutched the rocky ground for support. 

Pushing through the pain, she extended a trembling hand, her fingers brushing against his uniform, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath. He’d managed to pull himself forward, flipping over and propping himself up against the rocky wall of the crater, pained grunts filling the air. His breaths were shallow and ragged, eyes barely open as he fought to stay conscious. 

When he managed to pry them open further, they were clouded with pain and drowsiness, wandering aimlessly for a moment before attempting to find (y/n)’s gaze. He saw her face above him, her lips moving rapidly, but he couldn’t quite understand what she was saying. 

“You’re okay, hon. You’re okay,” (y/n) whispered, painfully sitting up beside him and putting pressure on his wound. His slick blood coated her hands as she pushed with all her remaining strength. As Hoosier lazily looked up at her, his senses slowly came back to him.

“(Y/n),” he mumbled. “I dropped my weapon.”

“It’s a-alright, Bill,” she whimpered, the pain in her ankle and leg flaring, sending waves of dizziness and nausea through her. The pain seemed to meld with the fog of fatigue, weighing down her limbs and blurring her focus. (Y/n)’s eyelids became heavy, as if someone had placed weights on them. She blinked forcefully, attempting to stay alert.

“Shit,” she groaned, her eyes drooping as her strength dissipated, the pressure on his leg lessening. Just as she felt herself slipping away, a familiar voice cut through the chaos.

“Oh, Bill. (Y/n),” Bob called, and seconds later, he was by their side, his eyes taking in the carnage before him. He had arrived just in time to take over the task of applying pressure on Bill’s wound, giving (y/n) a much-needed break. She let out a shuddering breath, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her as she fell against the rocky wall of the crater beside Hoosier. 

“Corpsman!” Leckie screamed. “Corpsman!”

(Y/n) watched through a haze of drowsiness as Bill clenched his eyes and leaned his head back, breathing heavily. She shakily reached out for his hand, intertwining their fingers gently. His once strong hand now felt almost limp and lifeless in her grasp, and she squeezed it in an effort to keep him awake.

“We’re gon’ be alright, ” she strained.

Glancing at her leg, Bob’s eyes widened and he quickly moved one hand off Hoosier’s wound to get a better look at the damage, but she weakly pushed his hand away.

“No, Bob,” she rasped, her voice hoarse and filled with worry. “Bill…Please, help Bill first. He’s h-hurt worse than I am. I’ll be okay, just…take care of him.”

Bill flopped his head to the side to look at her with concern in his half-lidden eyes. “No,” he grunted. “(Y/n/n), no.”

Leckie shook his head, trying to help her again. “Your leg, (y/l/n)!” he exclaimed. “You’re gonna-”

“Bob,” she interrupted, her eyes lowering to Bill’s wound, tears in her eyes. “I know. Help Bill.”

With a frustrated growl, Leckie brought his hand back to Hoosier’s thigh. “Corpsman!” he yelled again. “Hey, everything’s gonna be fine, you two. It ain’t shit. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Bill lifted his head for a moment, lazily licking his lips before peering down at (y/n), his gaze traveling down to her foot and its horrific position. “Darlin’,” he breathed. “Your foot.”

“I’m fine, Bill.”

Bob felt his heart tear seeing the usually spunky couple in such a pitiful state. “It ain’t shit,” he reassured. “You’re both gonna be fine.”

Hoosier’s eyes drifted closed, and (y/n) shared a panicked look with Bob. “Damn it! Corpsman! Stay awake! Both of you.”

She nodded feebly, her grip on Bill’s hand tightening as she fought to stay conscious. Pain and exhaustion weighed heavily on her, but she knew she had to be there for Bill. She struggled to keep her eyes open, blinking against the weariness that threatened to pull her into the darkness. After a minute that crawled by like hours, two corpsmen slid down into the hole. One of them quickly evaluated the situation and dropped down beside Bill, barking orders at Leckie as the other knelt beside (y/n), speaking gently. “Ma’am we’ve gotta get him stabilized. We’re gonna take him first, but we’ll be back for you, I promise.

(Y/n)’s chest tightened at the words, and she nodded weakly.

“Bill?” she heard Bob mutter from beside her. “Bill?”

Her unfocused gaze flew over to his face, watching as he lost his battle against unconsciousness, his eyes fluttering shut, whispering, “Sorry.” (Y/n) felt his grip go limp, and her eyes widened in fear and desperation. She released his hand and shook his shoulder, her voice trembling.

“Bill, no, please,” she pleaded, her words choked with emotion.

“Help me carry him back,” a corpsman stated, roughly looping his arms under Bill’s shoulders and lifting him with the help of the other corpsman. (Y/n)’s eyes never left them as they quickly carried him out of the crater. The second they left her view, she felt a sudden rush of adrenaline leaving her body. The pain from her injuries hit her anew, and every ache and throb seemed to intensify twofold. She groaned, closing her eyes tightly.

Bob turned and put pressure on (y/n)’s trembling thigh. He urged her to breathe, to focus on anything but the pain, but the agony was now all over her body.

“Focus on my voice, (y/n),” Bob implored, his voice shaking. “Hoos would kill me if I let anything happen to ya, so you’ve gotta stay awake for me, sweetheart.”

Spots danced in her vision and her eyelids drooped as she began to drift away into the darkness that was invading. “Stay with me, (y/n),” Bob replied, pushing more of his weight onto her leg. “They’re coming back! Stay awake!”

USS SAMARITAN (AH-10): SEPTEMBER, 1944

It had been a long few days since Bill had woken up groggy from the fog of his pain medications. The medical ship rocked subtly beneath him as he lay in his cot, an itchy blanket covering him. He was going out of his mind looking at nothing but the gray steel of the ship’s interior and hearing the moans and cries of his fellow Marines. 

Since the moment he’d woken up, he’d been asking about (y/n). He asked nurses, other wounded marines, and anyone he could get a hold of. After four days of this, anxiety settled into his stomach, and he decided to search for her himself. He scanned the room for nurses before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, wincing at how it pulled on his wound. The man in the bed beside him was dead asleep, so he snatched his crutches and used his left leg to push himself off the bed. Bill smirked as he slowly started toward the hallway, but his plan came to a screeching halt when he heard a voice behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, private?”

He sighed and turned around, coming face to face with one of his nurses, Evelyn, who wore a disapproving expression. 

“Just going to the bathroom,” he lied, nodding toward the door.

“Really?” Evelyn asked, amusement lacing her tone as she pointed to the opposite side of the room. “Because the bathroom’s that way.”

“Fine,” Bill grumbled under his breath. “You caught me. I need to find someone.”

“So what’s the lucky girl’s name?” she asked, helping Bill back into the bed.

“How’d you know I was lookin’ for a woman?” 

She smiled. “The look in your eyes.”

A fond smile formed on his lips as he replied. “Corporal (Y/n) (y/l/n). She’s my best friend.”

“Just a best friend?” Evelyn smirked, peering down at him with a skeptically raised eyebrow. “Sounds like she’s more than that to you, marine.”

“She is,” he chuckled. “I’m lucky to have her.”

After a moment, his expression fell and his eyes drifted to the stark white bandages on his leg. “We both got hit by the same mortar,” he said softly. “I don’t know what happened to her.”

Evelyn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

Looking up at her with glossy eyes, Hoosier cleared his throat. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Another day passed, and there was still no word on (y/n) or her condition, and Bill became even more desperate. Later in the day, he saw Evelyn in the corner of his eye and waved her over.

“Ma’am,” Bill called out to her, his voice tight with worry. “Have you found her yet?”

Evelyn smiled gently and shook her head. “Sorry, private. No luck yet,” she sighed. “But I’ll keep asking around.”

He hung his head with a sigh, closing his eyes as he sunk back down onto the bed, bringing up a hand to run it down his face.

“I do have some good news, though,” she announced, getting a wheelchair from the corner. “We’re going on a trip to the top deck, and I think it’ll help you feel better.”

Bill grunted, turning onto his side and facing away from her. “No thanks.”

“Come on, private. Trust me,” Evelyn encouraged, her voice persuasive. 

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed and relented. With a little help, he eased into the wheelchair. As they made their way to the top deck, he couldn’t help but be disinterested, his thoughts consumed by worry for the woman he loved. Once they reached the top deck, Bill was lost in his thoughts, absentmindedly watching the unending sea before him. 

Evelyn pushed his wheelchair to a quiet spot, hoping the openness and fresh air would ease his worries. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” she asked, taking a deep breath.

Bill gave a faint nod but remained lost in his thoughts. As the sun caressed the deck with its warm embrace, he basked in its gentle rays, closing his eyes to fully immerse himself in the comforting warmth. The distant sounds of the ship and the gentle lull of the waves created a calming aura around him, temporarily easing the weight of the world from his shoulders. He thought of the last time he’d felt so relaxed: It had been beside (y/n) as they laid out on the beach in Melbourne, not a care in the world.

The distinct sound of a wheelchair being pushed beside him broke Bill from his memory, and a flicker of annoyance tinged his moment of peace. He wondered who was being wheeled so close. When he opened his eyes, however, annoyance quickly turned to a surge of relief and elation. There, right beside him, was (y/n) in a wheelchair, her head tilted toward him in a peaceful slumber. The second he saw her sleeping form, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, the knot in his chest finally loosening. The anxiety and fears that had plagued him for days now seemed to disappear. 

He found himself captivated by the soft curve of her lips and the way they seemed to hold a hint of a smile even in her dreams. They were lips he’d kissed a thousand times, each one bringing back a fond memory. Bill reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with his eyes. His heart swelled as he admired her every feature, from the sweep of her lashes to the graceful arc of her eyebrows. Hoosier couldn’t help but glance down at her foot, finding it wrapped in a large cast that reached from her toes to her knee. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he watched her, completely overwhelmed with emotion.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he smiled, his hand tenderly cupping her jaw as his thumb gently rubbed against her cheek.

(Y/n)’s unconscious mind seemed to recognize the touch, and she leaned into his hand, a contented sigh escaping her lips. “Five more minutes,” she murmured sleepily. “I’m having a good dream.”

Bill chuckled softly, his gaze soft as he admired her peaceful form. “Well, darlin’, what dream could possibly be better than me?”

As if in response, her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light as her eyes met his ocean-blue eyes. “Am I still dreaming?” she asked softly, a sparkle of hope lighting up her eyes. 

Hoosier shook his head, his voice filled with reassurance. “No, (y/n/n), you’re not dreamin’. 

“Are you sure?”

“I know how I can prove it to ya,” he grinned.

He leaned over and gently placed a kiss on her lips as undeniable proof that he was truly before her. His hand remained tenderly on her jaw, his touch grounding her spinning mind. As he pulled away, they rested their foreheads against each other. A radiant smile graced her lips as she fully registered her presence, his loving gaze warming her heart. “Bill,” she whispered, feeling his warm breath on her face.

He grinned back at her, his eyes reflecting the same joy and relief she felt in that moment. “Hey there, beautiful. “How’s my favorite girl doin’?

“Better now that you’re here,” she replied, her eyes shining.

Bill pulled back slightly, intertwining their hands before he looked down at her foot, concern etched on his features. “How’s your leg feeling?”

“I should be asking you that,” she scoffed, shaking her head at his tough-guy attitude.

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk gracing his lips. “Answer the question, woman.”

“It aches. My ankle was broken in three places, so I’ll be in this cast for a while and then crutches for months after that. How are you? You scared me to death, Bill.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted nonchalantly with a shrug.

(Y/n) pointed to his bandaged thigh, a teasing glint in her eyes. “I have eyes, ya know.”

“Piece of shrapnel nicked my fe-female-femorum…whatever that artery is,” Bill remarked, struggling to find the right words.

Breaking out into a laugh, she squeezed his hand. “It’s femoral, hon. You were so close.”

“Whatever it is,” he chuckled. “It wasn’t shit. Just like Leckie said.”

Her smile faltered slightly, and she turned her gaze from his face to the vast ocean before them. “So you remember what happened?”

Bill followed her gaze. “Some of it,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “I remember you tellin’ Bob to help me instead of you…I can’t believe you did that.”

“I’ll always put you before me. Always,” she affirmed, their eyes meeting in a solemn gaze. 

“I feel the same,” he whispered. “But please don’t do that again. For my sanity.”

Hearing sniffles behind them, they craned their heads back, following the sound. Behind them stood Evelyn and (y/n)’s nurse, Jackie, with tears glistening in their eyes.

“Y’all are just too precious,” Evelyn exclaimed, her voice laced with elation as she wiped a tear off her cheek.

(Y/n) glanced at Bill, trying to hold back a laugh at his surprised expression. “You won’t be saying that when he starts to get all grouchy,” she joked, earning a playful scoff from him. “But really, thank you both so much. We really mean it.”

Jackie beamed. “Of course. We’re glad to have helped you two find each other again. Y’all will have a great story to tell your kids someday.”

Bill, though not one to easily show his emotions, found himself touched by their kindness. He cleared his throat, his gratitude evident in his eyes. “Thanks,” he mumbled, a hint of newfound shyness coloring his words. 

“We’ll leave you to it,” Evelyn smiled as she and Jackie walked away to help another patient.

The couple turned back to the front with their hands still intertwined, and neither of them spoke for a moment as they stared out at the vast sea. The soothing sounds of the waves lapping against the ship’s hull filled the air.

“This kind of reminds me of that day at the beach,” she mused, looking over at him with a sly grin.

“Oh absolutely,” he retorted, his signature sarcasm making an appearance. “Except for the part where we’re fully clothed, surrounded by stinking marines, and half blown to hell. So, you know, I’d say it’s just like that day.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand, bringing it to her lips. “Damn, I love you,” she drawled.

“Good, ‘cause you ain’t ever getting rid of me, darlin’.”

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[strryhaze]

from l-r: nancy tuckerman, bobby kennedy, jackie kennedy, patricia lawford, joan kennedy, jean smith kennedy, lem billings, lee radziwell, stanislaw radziwell, & teddy kennedy

the friend group is friendgrouping

[antigonenikk]

biblically accurate pacific (2010) characters

[ccghastly]

Van Der Linde boys (include Arthur please and the rest is up to you!!) x reader who can't ride a horse, what do you think about that? Whenever I reader fics from rdr2 I'm like "damn, this ain't me" cause I was riding a horse once in my life 😭 thank you!!

Van der Linde fellas with a S/O that can't ride (a horse)

GN Reader

Arthur, Charles, Hosea, & Bill

Misread the prompt and thought this was 'reader asks for riding lessons', so the most of the fills lean in that direction.

I take requests! Feel free to ask!

Arthur:

Tries so damn hard to be helpful, but he's really really not.

He's been riding a horse for longer than he's been walking, it's all muscle memory and he's horrible at trying to get it into usable words.

Prepare for a lot of, "You kinda just…" "No, uh, you gotta lean with it" "Steer with your hips" "No, not like that" "... That's… Almost better?"

You're frustrated, he's frustrated.

"I'm real sorry, Darlin'. I ain't got no clue how to make any of this make any kinda sense."

If you stick with it you'll probably get there, but you probably would've made the same progress without Arthur's help.

Arthur later gets you a horse that's so incredibly far from wild it could be a nursemaid in its next life and you're happy to accompany him on his little journeys around the countryside. It's exciting to experience his strange encounters in person, rather than as funny stories he brings to the fireside.

Charles:

A more patient teacher you couldn't hope to find.

He starts you with horse care. Brushing, picking hooves, tack maintenance, feeding, feeling for injuries. Just getting you used to being around horses.

He's very keen on posture and being as helpful and kind to the horse as a rider possibly can be.

Taima is a sweetheart throughout, long pauses for explanations are immediately grazing breaks, but she listens when you try to ask her to do something.

You make great progress and are riding with some confidence by the end of the month, following Charles and Taima for short trips out of camp on your own borrowed horse.

Eventually you get your own horse and it becomes common practice for you to follow Charles on any of his outings, just to keep him company. You get surprisingly good at reading while your horse follows Taima.

Hosea:

Strange techniques, but he's too enthusiastic to turn him down.

You didn't even ask him to teach you, just mentioned in passing that you didn't know how to and you were suddenly penciled in for lessons.

Unsaddles Silver Dollar to make room and has you ride in front of him as he guides the horse.

"Just get a feel for the horse, Dove. Feel how I move with him."

Silver Dollar is confused by the many many circles he's asked to make, but as long as there peppermints at the end of it, he's happy.

Hosea's teaching style is dubiously helpful, but you do eventually learn how to sit a horse.

Once you're comfortable steering your own horse there are many long strolls to 'scout the area' and 'look for game', that usually end with cuddling up in front of a pretty view.

Bill:

Feels guilty about it, but kind of likes that you can't ride on your own.

Enjoys being useful and likes being able to help you like this.

Really likes that you don't ask anyone else to take you where you need to go, always asking him with such sweet manners, if when he has a free moment if he could please take you into town please

Yes. The answer is always Yes. Immediately Yes. As soon as he's physically capable of making it happen.

"Just gimme two shakes, Honey. I gotta ask Sean to take the rest of my shift, the layabout owes me a few."

Also really really likes lifting you onto and off of Brown Jack. If you wanna make this man light up, give him a kiss while he does it.

It's a very badly hidden secret that he enjoys getting to act like a gentleman and take care of you, so this is right up his alley.

[dazedvivenne]

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!!

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

I currently write for

Rafe Cameron

Kevin Khatchadourian

Henry Bowers

Patrick Hockstetter

Donnie Darko

Bill skarsgard (characters + him)

Drew Starkey (+ Any other character of his)

Negan Smith

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker

James Patrick March

Kai Anderson

Kyle Spencer

Darry Jenner

IF you have someone specific in your mind, request it and I will try my best to write it!

WHAT DO I WRITE?

Literally everything, I have to no limits so go crazy.

Please go request something about your favourite character <3

[thatspeciallad]

The Companion Glitch

My Favorite thing to do in game to avoid the main quests.

Love running into Blackwater by the end and causing a slaughter.

[expectiations]

No, because imagine this.

The 70th anniversary rolls around.

We get a Tales of the TARDIS season (series?) 2.

We get Christopher, David, Matt, Peter, and Jodie.

They get closure or 'therapy' or something.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

bill and the bannerman road gang would have been so cute together

[eugenesmorphine]

Could you use prompt 52. “Don’t look at me like that.” And a foxhole kiss for Bill Hoosier Smith of the Pacific?

Sky Full Of Stars // Bill "Hoosier" Smith Imagine

AN: Long time since writing. I have definitely missed it. I might be a bit rusty but I hope ya'll enjoy. And I used to have a taglist, but I honestly lost track. So just comment if I should make a post for people to comment on, making a new taglist!

Word Count: 1,711

Y/N sat in the foxhole, staring up at the stars that remained in the sky above. Her mind was mostly blank at that moment. It was a rough day for all of the Marines. A lot of loss, a lot of hunger, and a lot of lost morale. It was war after all. But, Y/N couldn’t help but just stare at the sky and think of nothing. She would rather think of nothing than think about how much she was truly hating life at this moment. Hating how hungry she was. Hating how tired she was. Hating how sweaty, unclean, and hating the stretch that her nearly rotten uniform stunk of after days to months of wearing it with no opportunity to shower. So nothing was peaceful at the moment. The silence, well more like the absent sound of gunfire, bombs, or screaming, was peaceful.

The thought of nothing was quickly interrupted but a thud of boots hitting the dirt of the female’s foxhole. Blinking, snapping out of her quiet glance, her head snapped over to the sound of the thud. Quickly reaching and grabbing her rifle just out of spite.

“Hey! Easy now, L/N. It’s just me,” rang the voice. Once Y/N heard the voice, and her eyes adjusted to the Marine’s face whilst in the dark, the female Marine relaxed. It was just Mr. Bill Hoosier Smith, a close friend of hers within the company. The breath she held was now exhaled as she slowly released her tightened grip on her firearm. “See, that’s more like it,” the male spoke as he gently sat down across from her. Letting out a heavy sigh as his knees popped whilst he sat. Y/N just sat quietly in response, kind of just staring at Bill.

Bill eyed her closely. Well as well as he could in the near pitch black night. Y/N’s silence was something new that came over the female Marine. A once bubbly woman, who always had quick responses for every snarky remark, question, or sarcastic statement ever said to her. Always willing to share a cigarette with her group of friends and always willing to speak up or talk into late hours of the night. Now it was quiet, and closed off. He didn’t blame her, but was still a little surprised at the sudden change in character. Of course he, and a few others had questioned Y/N before. But was met with it being shrugged off her shoulders and no true answers. But Bill, being the man he was, wasn’t taking no for an answer this time. 

“Alright, I’m sick of this,” Bill started, after about five minutes of complete silence. While he was waiting for his female counterpart to say something. Anything at all. But nothing to his wishes. Y/N just looked at him, her face not changing at all. A blank, closed off stare. It was like Bill was looking at a stranger. 

“Sick of what?” She debuted. Not a change in face still. No raising eyebrows. Not even a hint of attitude. Just a straight, monotone voice. That grinded Bill’s gears. Her eyebrows knitted together. He wasn’t mad at her. Not at all. He could think of a billion reasons of why she was starting to act the way she was. For christ sakes they were in the middle of World War II! But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. And Bill Hoosier never showed himself worrying. 

“Seriously? Y/N, you have single handedly sectioned yourself away from our friends and I. And you haven’t even noticed. Or maybe you have,” Bill paused in his words. Hoping Y/N would say something. But she didn’t. Her eyes shifted. They became glossy for a moment he swore he saw. But she quickly blinked and turned her head away for a moment before turning her head back over to Hoosier. This time her eyes showed more frustration, more emotion. But yet, nothing left her mouth. No explanation, not even any questions. And that grinded Bill’s gears even more. “Don’t look at me like that!” he whisper-shouted. Careful not to alert any other Marines resting in other foxholes. 

Y/N’s eyes now definitely softened to the tone change. Her eyes become glossy once more. Now Bill was now frustrated, and highly confused. And that’s when Y/N’s eyes began to pour out tears. And a few stifled sobs left her lips.

To be truthful, Y/N had been slowly pulling herself away from everyone. Partially she herself noticed her actions, though partially she didn’t. More so, didn’t recognize how hard she actually was doing it. And now, all her emotions were coming up to the surface. Everything she had tried so hard to push down and away, was spilling over like a boiling pot. 

“I'm sorry,” was all that spilled out of her lips. Bill sat shocked as he watched the female’s tears quietly slide down her mud caked cheeks. Getting onto his knees and shuffling to her side of the foxhole, he placed a caring and comforting hand to her shoulder. Y/N leaned into his touch. “I just-” she started and then she stopped. Trying to contain her heavy emotions and get her thoughts in order before she tried to speak.

In her world, in her mind, she believed if she had closed herself off from anyone, it would protect her own well being. Y/N had seen so much loss in her service on the Japanese islands, so many men dying in such horrific ways. Watching friends be shot, blown up, or both. Seeing so much death, destruction, and sadness. She couldn't bear the sight, or even the idea, of her closest friends falling victim to this war. Especially Bill Hoosier Smith. Who she thought more than just a close friend, a fondness of feelings had grown whilst their time spent together. Foxholes shared, ducking for cover with each other, and one night in Australia that the pair shared that stayed between them and only them. Never to be spoken about, but the thought remained in both their minds ever since. But, Y/N thought that if she just separated herself from the group, especially from Bill; that if anything was to happen to any one of them, it wouldn’t cloud her mind. That it wouldn’t take over her wellbeing so bad that she couldn’t bear to see the end of war. That plan seemed great in the beginning. Until she realized that the isolation made her feel a billion times worse. It made her feel alone and scared. But she thought she was already far too far into her plan already to back out of it now.

“Look, you know I’m not one for all that emotional shit,” Bill paused. Turning his head to the side momentarily to try to process his words properly. Not only was he not good with anything with emotions; he also wasn’t the best with women either. “Just talk to me about it, or don’t- well do whatever you want to do. But stop kicking us, especially me, to the side. We miss you damn it,” Bill took another pause. Y/N finally looked up at him, stifling her quiet cries for just a moment. Taking a deep breath and locking eyes with the female Marine. “I fucking miss you, god damn it.”

It didn’t take Y/N a second thought before she grasped the sides of her dear friend’s face and planted her lips onto his. Bill’s eyes widened, but he quickly grabbed the side of her face as well. Gently squeezing it, as her messy hair stuck between his hands. 

Pulling away quickly Y/N looked at him, a few more tears rolling down her face. “I haven’t stopped missing you since that night we were in Australia,” she finally spilled. Her breathing became a bit more labored, and Bill just sat there staring at her. Still in a slight feeling of shock. “We brushed it off like it was nothing! And ever since then, and ever since things really started getting bad here. With all this death and dying happening all around us,” Y/N stopped to take a breath. Wiping a few stray tears that leaked from her eyes. “The thought of you had been clouding my judgment, making me make mistakes on the field. Which isn’t your fault, but I thought if I had just distanced myself and not thought of anything to do with you; my mind would clear up,” Glancing down at her hands and sucking in her bottom lip. “But it didn’t. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how much I missed you. And it was distracting me even more,” Placing her face in her hands and shaking her head. “God this is so embarrassing,” she muttered through her hands.

Bill was now a little shocked by the confession. Of course, he felt the same way. He was just some idiot Marine that didn’t know how to express his feelings in the slightest way. He thought if he just didn’t talk about it, the nagging thought would just go away. But clearly, that didn’t work for either of them. So now here they were, both sitting in silence. Bill just sat trying to figure out what he should say next.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Bill started, Y/N peaked up through her hands. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, with a soft sigh. “All I’ve thought about for the past few months has been how bad I wished we were back in Australia,” taking another deep breath. Pausing just for a second longer. “And I wished it was just you and me back home in Indiana. Out of all this mess,” he stated. Scooting himself to sit besides her. Resting his elbows on his knees and staring up at the black sky full of stars.

Y/N sat up and rested her head on his shoulder. “We can do that. After all this,” she whispered. Now also looking up at the stars. Bill looked back down at the woman and a small smile formed on his lips. 

“Alright then, Corporal L/N. You got yourself a deal.”

[inglourious-imagines]

The Pacific Masterlist

Robert Leckie:

War Poet

Crackers & Jam

Eugene Sledge:

Home, Sweet Home

Saved

Sidney Phillips:

Ireland Whiskey

Movie's Magic

Bill "Hoosier" Smith:

Shirt Incident

Tattoos

Charlie

Secretly in Love

Stubborn Lovers: Part One, Part Two (completed)

Glances

Heat & Shirts

Mysterious

Stay with Me

Andrew "Ack Ack" Haldane:

Foxhole Love

Missing Piece

Spy Soldier

Edward "Hillbilly" Jones:

Let Me Love You

By Your Side

October 10, 1944

Lew "Chuckler" Juergens:

Love Me Tender

Wilbur "Runner" Conley:

Confessed

[she-wolf09231982]

One Shots 1️⃣🔫 Headcanons👤💣

Imagines🔮

~~~~~~~

BoB🔮

Eugene Roe1️⃣🔫

Joe Liebgott1️⃣🔫

Joe Toye1️⃣🔫

George Luz👤💣

Bill Hoosier Smith1️⃣🔫

Tim Gutterson1️⃣🔫

[mads-nixon]

Hoosier Dating an Extrovert Headcannons

Bill "Hoosier" Smith x Extrovert!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I'm currently obsessed with Jacob Pitts...so you're welcome :) this is about the fictional portrayal of H company boys on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

You and Bill get along from the beginning, and y'all are the epitome of the grump x sunshine trope!!

Sarcasm and your endless optimism go perfectly together, even if no one fully comprehends it.

Where Bill sits and observes most of the time, you never seem to tire from the excitement, telling him about every second of your day with a bright smile on your face.

He won't admit it, but he finds it incredibly adorable.

When things slow down at night and you're sitting in your foxhole, you two often find yourselves talking about everything from back home to the future.

In the quiet when it's just the two of you, Bill seems to stray away from his usual snarky and blunt attitude for one that's much softer. If Leckie or Runner ever got wind of it, he knows he'll never hear the end of it.

You slowly pick up on some of his traits, your own sarcastic and witty side becoming more prominent. Of course, Bill notices and he feels a sense of pride knowing that he's influenced you...and he teases you relentlessly.

"Now, who'd you get that fine sense of humor from?" he asks you, a smirk adorning his lips.

You just roll your eyes. "Definitely not you, honey. You're not as funny as you think."

The teasing NEVER ends, and the H company guys all love the two of you, so they go along with it.

When the terrible shelling on Guadalcanal started, you happened to be on your way back from the bathroom, so you sprinted towards the first hole you saw.

The men inside were calling for you, and right as you were about to slide in, it was hit with a shell, throwing you onto your back. Seeing the horrific remains of the men inside tore at your insides, and you froze. A second later, you snapped out of it and ran to the next hole over, which happened to be your hole with the boys.

You slide into the hole, and someone grabs you and holds you to their chest. It doesn't take long for you to realize it's Bill. He's got you in one arm and a whimpering dog in the other.

He was going insane not knowing where you were, and having you in his arms calms his nerves slightly despite the bombardment happening around you.

The next morning, he holds your shaking form (wrapped in his *signature* blanket) tightly as you sit outside your hole, staring numbly at the ground ahead of you. From then on, you seem to be more reserved...more quiet, and it worries him and the guys to death.

Whenever things got rough, they (especially bill) always knew you to be the one happy thing in their life (not that you didn't make them happy still ofc, but seeing you so shaken hurt them).

He does anything and everything to make you smile, laugh, and seem like your old self again. You never tell him exactly what happened, but it doesn't take much for him to imagine something along those lines.

You know those little habits that you picked up from Bill? Well, he picked some up from you, too, and he finds himself having a more energetic and extroverted attitude while he's trying to be there for you, cheering you up to the best of his ability.

Slowly, with Bill and the other guy's help, things get better, and you become more like yourself again. Although he's overjoyed that you're back to your bubbly and extroverted self, he's soooo relieved that he doesn't have to pick up the slack on that front...because it is exhausting for him to act like that. He'll leave that to you!

Tag List: @footprintsinthesxnd

[reddeadclown]

Headcanon Dump 1

TW: None but if you don’t like the idea of himbo John Marston then scroll on I guess

•Hosea can’t tolerate anything spicier than butter 

•John’s such a himbo that whenever he heats up a hot pocket in the microwave and it isn’t warm enough, he’ll throw away the hot pocket, warm another one up, and repeat the process before Abigail has to come over and help him

•Ever so often, Karen sends a snap to Sean with the message “send me ur grippers” and he does every time

•I’m about half convinced that Rev. Swanson eats pizza rolls straight from the freezer

•Since Strauss sleeps in a nightgown and goes “Hoooonk mimimimimi” he also probably only falls from midair once he looks down, and gets hit by falling anvils pretty often 

•Abigail reminds me a lot of my mother, so I firmly believe, that just as my own mummy does, she’ll call Jack some stupid nickname that will stick with him for the rest of his life

•Considering the Red Dead series takes place in the very late 19th-early 20th century, I wonder how much asbestos Jack has been exposed to (THEY PUT THAT SHIT IN EVERYTHING)

•The hot bitch himself (Javier) probably uses Pantene (Mans has some LUCIOUS LOCKS)

•I think Mary-Beth would own a tumblr blog (and we love her for that)

•Sean is the holder of the world record title of “Silliest little goblin on the planet” with a record of 69420 instances of immature, childlike behavior, 7261 cases of gooberish misdoings and 2925 x 10^17 impishly devious actions

•Bill’s entire Instagram is just pictures of Cain

•Cain has a PHD at Good Boi University 

•Every single Van Der Linde girl is a national treasure and must be protected at all costs

•IN A PERFECT AU; Charles and Arthur got married in the end, bought a house, and have three cats named Larry,Jerry and Sherry but nO THAT JUST COULDNT HAPPEN COME ON ROCKSTAR-

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

Currently dealing with being a trans teen in Alberta (it fucking sucks)

[ccghastly]

The Van der Linde Fellas as Hybrids

Arthur:

Some kinda Mastiff Dog.

He's big and playful, knows his own size and he's not afraid to use it, very family focused, will protect his pack if its the last thing he does.

His ears are a bit raggedy, his tail was cropped. Used to drool a lot as a pup and Hosea does not let him live it down, playing with Jack always makes his tail wag. Growls and grumbles a lot, but often doesn't mean anything by it.

John:

Raccoon

Greasy trash panda, stealing other peoples shinies and taking no responsibility.

Screeches at Arthur 24\7, will not admit to being chased up multiple trees by him when they were young. Has little caches of stuff absolutely everywhere. If you lose him, he's where he's not meant to be, look in the place you'd least like him to be first and there you will find him, very confused on how Hosea always finds him so fast.

Hosea:

Maine Coon

Blends into high society, hates strangers, likes being in the company of his family, an excellent hunter, very motherly towards his boys.

Spends his evenings before the camp's fire, bushing out his fur. Drags Arthur and John over to be groomed if they get too close, Arthur gets too close suspiciously often, John is suspiciously far away. Very charming, knows how to sway his tail just right to make people notice him, also knows how to blend in and appear like any other average domestic breed.

Dutch:

Says he's a raven but is actually a shiny cowbird.

Kinda detrimental to those around him but not maliciously, promiscuous with no set partner, offloads much of the physical work onto others, a conman that knows how to fit in.

Is very proud of his iridescent plumage, flirts and preens incessantly, flares his wings when trying to make a point and be dramatic. Once accidentally set his tail feathers on fire when preening too close to the campfire, pouted in his tent until they grew back and Hosea stopped laughing.

Bill:

Some kind of cat, I lean towards a Lion.

He's grumbly, likes a lot of naps, will pitch in if asked but leaves most of running around to his pride, a big boy, patrols his territory.

His mane is kinda scraggly and the gang does indeed make fun of him for it. If there's a sunbeam he's napping in it. Hates the cold. Loves snuggles and physical affection but will die before admitting it.

Sean:

Husky

Has a flair for the dramatic, loud, listens to no one unless it benefits him, enjoys 'singing'. When it's time to work, it's time to work. Can't focus unless he has a job to do, works well with others.

Tail wagging & tongue out 90% of the time. Constantly trying to tackle Arthur into play fights. Sheds like a mf and gets offended when called out about it.

Micah:

Vampire Finch

You know he's up to nothing good but you can't seem to stop him before he does damage. Picks away at people until they're too exhausted to fight back.

Enjoys eating his meat as bloody as he can get it, preens more than you'd think but his feathers are still constantly a bit ragged. Struts around camp with his feathers fluffed out to look bigger, loves to poke and pick at people then fly off when they retaliate. Constantly lands rudely close to hitting people. Will dive bomb you.

Charles:

Mustang

Protects his herd, can roam alone but prefers company, not afraid of hard work. Knows when to pick his battles. Quiet, but says a lot if you know how to read him.

Enjoys taking the time in the morning to carefully braid his mane. He's a big boy and is very conscious of that fact. Careful with every movement. When alone together will stealthily scritch Arthur's ears to watch his tail wag, does accept retaliatory scritches, mutual grooming is the ultimate act of friendship.

Javier:

Ornate hawk eagle

Flashy and fancy but gets the job done, strikes hard and fast.

Preens his wings a lot, hates when his feathers and crest get disorderly, says it feels wrong. Dutch has him fly up and scout the way. Coordinates outfits so they match his plumage.

[turn0nthemoon]

Thanks for the lemonade

Note: I used the idea of meeting Hoosier and Chuckler for the first time as a basis for easing myself into fanfiction writing. It’s meant as an exercise so it’s pretty tame, but read along if you like. :)

Wordcount: 1262

Warning: smoking??

Pairing: Hoosier x Reader

Summary: You’re pouring lemonade at the nurses stand when two marines take your mind off of gloomy thinking with some cheerful chatting.

.

.

.

The sun was burning your cheeks as you poured cups of fresh lemonade for the row of tired marines lining up at the nurses’ stand. Some were watching you with expressions of confusion, some disbelief, some amusement and some were looking right through you, making you feel as hollow as the gaze with which they beheld you.

You poured as much care and gentleness as possible into every cup while you passed them into dirty hands. Every once in a while you heard croaky voices mutter “thanks or “ma’am” in your general direction, but most marines took the cups silently. You had seen and heard the horrible aftermath of battle in your time as a military nurse, but this was your first time looking into the faces of those still stuck in the nightmare from which some never wake. Feet dragging with the heaviness of knowing that each step taken is a step closer to their doom.

You thought of all the wounds of war you had healed and how only few of them would be as crippling as the one these men already carried. A wound that in the hospitals had been masked to you by the relief of escape.

“Too lovely a day to be frownin’ on isn’t it ma’am?”

The words interrupting your heavy thoughts were spoken by a tall dark-haired man that had just taken a cup of lemonade from your hand. He looked rather too battered to be speaking of lovely days you thought, but the friendly smile that shone on his grimy face suspended your disbelief for a moment.

“oh, I don’t know” you blinked at him, not wanting to disagree and started to pour another cup.

“Not exactly a sight for sore eyes eh?” – a slightly shorter man next to first one joked as you passed him some lemonade. You let an unsure smile graze your face as you studied them both for a hint of whether the comment was an invite for pity or for fun. Despite the appearance of it, you guessed that the second man to speak had fair hair underneath all that dust and muck.

He saw you hesitate and continued to speak;

“I clean up nice believe it or not, but unfortunately for my friend here he always looks sick as a dawg” he said and slapped the tall guy on the shoulder. That got a laugh out of you and you watched the taller guy scoff and roll his eyes, looking amused.

“Lotta ladies beg to differ” he replied smugly; “Ain’t that right Hoosier?”

“Ain’t right at all” the shorter guy retorted and caught your eye as you laughed at their banter.

Your laugh was about the sweetest thing the men had heard in a long time. Especially the one called Hoosier thought so and it made him straighten up a bit. In fact your laugh was just as sweet as you looked - cheeks red from the sun and loose strands of hair tucked behind your ears… Hoosier kept his appreciation to himself and hoped that you might extend the interaction with an answer. You noticed the anticipation.

“Well…” you smiled, deciding to join in on his joke, “the lemonade was supposed to liven you up a bit, but if your friend’s looking no better by tomorrow I’ll get you your money back.” Hoosier let out a chuckle at your reply. Not a full toothy grin but an upwards tug of the corner of his lips that despite its modesty reached his eyes. Bright eyes that bored into yours with what you thought was approval and suddenly hoped was a little more than that.

“Oi!” The taller man exclaimed with a grin as you shifted your eyes to him, “the friend has a name! I’m Chuckler” he said and stretched out a dirty hand towards you, taking no notice of your joke being on his expense.

“Chuckler?” You asked and shook his hand when an officer yelled in your direction.

“You two! Quit bothering the nurse! You’re holding up the line!” Chuckler let go of your hand and eyed the officer with blatant annoyance.

“Are we bothering you Ma’m?” he asked politely.

“Not at all…” You smiled at them. “But I don’t know if the same can be said for him” you looked discretely in the direction of the officer that had yelled, and was now staring intensely at the marines in front of you.

“Guess we better get movin… Thanks for the lemonade” Hoosier said and they both quickly emptied the small cups and put them down. Chuckler started moving away to neutralise the dissatisfaction of the glaring officer. Hoosier made to follow but then leaned back and offered you a handshake.

“‘Don’t believe I gotcher name, miss?” He said. The hand open in front of you was as dirty as the one his friend had offered, with scraped knuckles and dust that had settled in to darken every fine line. You were happy to take it.

“Y/L/N” you told him. You felt a tingle up your spine as his fingers closed around your small soft hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Y/N Y/L/N” you elaborated. His head was angled so his brow shielded his eyes from the sharp sun but you thought they glimmered still.

“Pleasure to meet ya, miss Y/L/N” he said “I’m-”

“Hoosier?” You interrupted and he nodded with an amused expression. You felt the name bear a weight on your tongue as if you had spoken a big important word whose meaning you had yet to discover.

“That’s right” he said still holding your hand. He let go with a slight jolt when Chuckler grabbed onto his shoulders with a tug.

“Officer’s getting real red in the face over there buddy” he said and Hoosier looked over nonchalantly. The officers jaw was tightly clenched, apparently debating what effect repeating himself would have.

“Looks like yer right” Hoosier commented and turned back to you.

“‘Scuse us Ma’am” he said and they left you to your task. You absentmindedly continued the repetitive motion of pouring and handing over cups of lemonade as you followed the two marines with your eyes.

In the tired oncoming of battle-worn men, it lifted your spirit to see good humor among some of them. Chuckler and Hoosier had made their way to a small group of marines who you guessed might be part of their company. Some of them were laughing and a few of them looking extremely tired, but all content in each others presence as they awaited orders on where to move.

Although he had his back turned you could see Hoosier pull a cigarette from his pocket and swiftly pull out a lighter after it. He let the cigarette hang loose from this lips as he lighted it with ease. You thought he moved with a sort of careless elegance, that despite the pitiful state of his uniform and dirty skin made him look quite charming. Then he flicked the lighter closed and as he placed it back in his pocket he swung his head around and looked at you. Lightening went through you as his blue eyes met yours – caught already staring. You thought you saw the hint of a smirk on his lips before you turned your eyes down. You could feel your cheeks flush from something other than the sun.

Though intently focusing on keeping your eyes on what your hands were doing, you eventually gave in to the temptation to steal another glance at Hoosier, but when you looked up, him and his companions had gone.