#when in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes

[eyefeelthebeat]

When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself, and curse my fate

[scripta-elegans]

Sonnet 29: When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes

by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heav'n with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;

   For thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings,

   That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

(Painting by Tomi D. Kobara. My wife and I noticed it at the same moment in a Carmel gallery. We both had the spooky feeling that it was meant for us, since the two figures in it look just like us when we were a young couple, even dressing and sitting the same way we did, on rocks overlooking the sea in La Jolla.)

[whileiamdying]

Sonnet XXIX

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

[dontcxckitup]

Ralph Fiennes Masterlist...

...of plays, audios, and rarities you can find online (but don't tell anyone). This post will be updated occasionally, so keep checking in now and again! Updated: 19.11.2024

Plays and rarities

Beat the Devil (X) Coast (X) Coup 53 (X) How Proust Can Change Your Life (X) Ivanov Goes to Mos.cow (X) Man and Superman Part 1 (X) Man and Superman Part 2 (X) Richard III Part 1 (X) (X) Richard III Part 2 (X) (X) Wanted: Marjory and Oliver (X)

Audios

A Light That Never Dies (X) A Very Young Person (X) Cities and Thrones and Power (X) Daffodils (X) Danny Deever (X) Dulce et decorum est (X) Followe Thy Faire Sunne, Unhappy Shaddowe (X) How The Whale Got His Throat (X) If (X) In Memoriam (X) In The Grace Of Wit, Of Tongue, and Face (X) Kim (X) Letter to Brigadier L.C. Dunsterville (X) Love (X) My Boy Jack (X) , (X) Now Winter Nights Enlarge (X) Ode to the Sea (X) Rikki-Tikki-Tavi (X) Seven Years Hard (X) Sighs, "If Our Sad Eyes" (X) Slow, Slow, Fresh Fount (X) So Am I As The Rich Whose Blessed Key (X) Sonnet (X) The Given Heart (X) The Mine-Sweepers (X) The Plagues (Prince of Egypt OST) (X) The Very Own House (X) The Way Through The Woods (X) University Poem (X) When In Disgrace With Fortune And Men's Eyes (X) When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent Thought (X)

[ex-textura]

My partner got Tim Downie to read this for me for Christmas and I wanted to share it with you all.

I'm speechless, still processing, so no commentary but I'll add the sonnet under the cut.

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

(Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;

       For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

       That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

[hellsite-proteins]

Could you render William Shakespeare’s 29th Sonnet?

It reads as follows:

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth sings hymns at heaven’s gate;

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

i'm not usually a fan of sonnets, but i really enjoyed this one :)

letter sequence in this ask matching protein-coding amino acids:

WhenindisgracewithfrtneandmenseyesIallalneeweepmytcaststateAndtrledeafheavenwithmytlesscriesAndlkpnmyselfandcrsemyfateWishingmeliketnemrerichinhpeFeatredlikehimlikehimwithfriendspssessedDesiringthismansartandthatmansscpeWithwhatImstenycntentedleastYetinthesethghtsmyselfalmstdespisingHaplyIthinkntheeandthenmystateLiketthelarkatreakfdayarisingFrmsllenearthsingshymnsatheavensgateFrthysweetlverememeredschwealthringsThatthenIscrntchangemystatewithkings

protein guy analysis:

this is made up mostly of alpha helices, with fewer loops than several of the other structures we've seen, which must be worth something. there may not be any confidence in the shape acting like a tertiary structure, but the secondary structure is doing a good job pretending to be trustworthy. the alpha helices are almost close enough for this to look like something, even if one of them does seem weirdly long to me

predicted protein structure:

[dabiconcordia]

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings. By William Shakespeare

[otterandterrier]

There are not enough FATM polls on my radar, so I’m making them!

[panic-point-blank]

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

(Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;        For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings        That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

˜ Shakespeare

[emiiyems]

Sonnet 29: When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes

I'm going to make cuntified modern versions of Filipino Traditional clothing. This is one of my attempts at it through a portrait for now

[kid-karoshi]

When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heav'n with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself, and curse my fate,

Hells, with what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at Baldur’s Gate.

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

[little-lily-w]

Surgery II

<<Surgery I series        You asked for part 2>>

It had been four days since you last talked to him. You were fortunate to have visa days to heal but the way he had made you feel didn’t allow any mental rest. Sudden nightmares woke you up at night, mostly flashes from the hearts game making you alert before the vivid image of the knife could cut you. However, the worst part came during day time. Being around people was exhausting when you managed to spot him every single time in the crowd. It was as if your mind had an magnet to his presence. He was usually at a corner or against a column, often with Kunia’s company, and his hands never seemed to leave the pockets of his white hoodie. Unnerving to think he kept them well hidden as a mystery, because hands movements gave away body language rather easily, but you knew damn well what those were capable of and for that reason, it was better if he kept them locked inside those fucking pockets.

The thing was that now you had pockets too. Your typical shorts and top over the bikini rapidly changed for a longer version of the bottoms and a hoodie but this one not baggy enough so you still abided by the rules of The Beach. The new length and the zip to the throat helped hiding the scars, not that you hadn’t seen people coming back from games with bruises and even open cuts but somehow, you didn’t fancy giving explanations for them if people asked, let alone saying that they were made by Chishiya. You knew the reaction you were going to have, and you didn’t want pity nor surprised faces and you really didn’t want to stroke his ego or give him popularity to be feared. So you stopped partying and you avoided getting inside the pool like the pest.

Until today.

It was really hot at the hotel and being in bed didn’t help you feel better. You got up and opened the door to spy outside. The corridor was mostly silent with the exception of a few guys coming back totally wasted. It must be past early morning because there was no sign of music anymore. You hurried to dress with your new attire over the bikini and made your way downstairs. No one. The immense empty hall managed to give you goosebumps, you thought that at least you would encounter one of the armed men on guard or some shit but apparently, it was just you and your soul.

Once you stepped outside, your mood improved drastically. To be witness of the peaceful scenario of calm water, silence and empty beach chairs before the sun rose was beautiful and, for the first time in days, you felt like yourself again. You didn’t have to hide; you could just enjoy the view and use the commodities before your visa expired. The thought of death didn’t even freeze you like you expected. No. If anything, it made you feel more alive. So you unzipped your hoodie, slid your new shorts down and jumped into the water. You gasped, scrubbing your eyes once your head was on the surface, it was cooler than you expected in the absence of sun and human warmth. But you were free. For a brief moment of illusion, you were entirely free. You floated a few steps backwards into the direction of the lower level of water but it still reached your chest and turned around to see the inside of the hall from the distance. Suddenly, a person raised from underwater, making you stumble backwards and splash water in every direction till you recovered your balance. By the time you coughed what your gasps sent inside your throat, Chishiya was standing straight before you, observing your disgrace, his long blonde hair wet and pulled back in a low ponytail with the exception of his frontal locks framing his face.

“You?! Here?! At this time?!”, you exclaimed at him.

“I could ask you the same questions unless you… bought the pool for yourself.”

You turned around, going back to the deeper water level, ready to get out.

“Anyone with enough critical thinking would say you are escaping me.”

You stopped in your tracks, forcing yourself to turn again. He was still in the same spot.

“What makes you think you are that special to be feared?”

Chishiya tilted his head in response, letting your own words betray you with memories.

“I’m not escaping you”, you said, trying to sound as stern as possible to make your point.

“Then prove me wrong. Weren’t you going for some laps? There’s plenty of space”.

“No, thank you. I wouldn’t wanna be in the same place as you”.

Chishiya chuckled, turning his back towards you and sinking till his head was his only body part on the surface. “You are escaping me”, he commented low for himself, still with that exasperating soft laugh.

You huffed, shoulders tensing as you clenched your teeth. You floated as quick as you could and circled him till you two were back face to face.

“Why don’t we play a little game?”, you proposed him, smiling ironically.

Chishiya arched his brow.

“I’ll race you five laps. Any style you want. And whoever wins has to admit defeat loud and clear”. Confident in your speed, you were already savoring Chishiya’s fading pride. He never showed any sporty qualities.

“Deal”, he said, this all was so amusing it was perfect to start the day. “Crawl?”

You swam to the edge of the pool where water would only reach your knees if you weren’t so conscious about your bikini state and ready to reach the other side three times as fast as you could. Chishiya joined you, still bending his knees like you so his body was underneath water as much as it allowed. He was too calm and when you noticed his smirk, you started to consider if he was actually going to win. No. No, he was not. On the count of three you both jumped forward.

Crawl he proposed, and crawl it was. You moved fast, only moving your head slightly to the side to breathe when air had already left your lungs entirely. You wouldn’t waste a second, ridiculously you wanted this victory more than any other. And every time your eyes met the surface, you spotted Chishiya swimming as well. But you were leaving him behind even if the delay on spying what he was doing betrayed you unconsciously, slowing you down. By the time you reached the final lap, holding yourself with the edge of the pool in the deeper end, Chishiya barely started the last one. Pleasure filled your body as you laughed silently while he swam into your direction. You couldn’t help but savor every arm movement he did knowing he was the fucking loser. Once his head was next to yours and he had wiped his locks out of his eyes, he patiently watched your triumphant smile. You inhaled deeply, moving your face closer to his just so you could tease him with whispered words. “Looks like I’m the winner. And apparently you are not that intimidating opponent after all”.  

Chishiya smirked moving in closer as well but he wasn’t looking into your eyes, he was fixed on your lips instead and that simple gesture made you swallow hard in order to remain where you were and not back off.

“I’ve never claimed to be one”, he paused, now finally looking into your eyes. “Congratulations. You are a very fast swimmer. But, before I admit defeat, I’d like to repeat the challenge. I’m confident on winning if I use… a different type of logic”.

You chuckled right in his face. Absurd. “What? You’re going to play smarty pants to win a physical challenge? I’m sorry, darling, but that’s not how this works. You can’t win a spades game just by pretending to be clever”.

“But I’m clever”, he responded to your verbal attack and catching your hesitation, he pushed your buttons. “What’s the matter? You are fearing me again?”

Your mouth opened to cuss him out but you repressed it and closed it back again to clench your teeth instead. “Okay”, you let out. “But this is the last chance. You better put that brain to work because if you lose, I’m considering making you admit it publicly”.

“Okay”, he said, sarcastic smirk again.

You both agreed to start from that point this time. The first two laps were so easy. He was again swimming behind you, he didn’t even look as if he was trying to improve his pace! Oh boy, you were definitely going to shame him in front of people. Losing an improvised silly challenge in the pool before sunset? Absolutely. It was going to be hilarious.

You reached the edge for the third lap and didn’t even care to spy where he was, you just jumped for the fourth one right into the direction of your starting point. But once you tilted your head to the side to breathe, something felt off for that millisecond. It all happened too rapidly. You didn’t really want to stop but your mind couldn’t stand having your face blindly underwater when…

You stopped.

Your body went into a floating position, disorientated at first till you realized you were right in the middle of the pool, water reaching your chest. Everything felt so silent. You looked around in every direction, making circles while trying to keep your head on the surface and, for a moment, you were the vivid image of exposed meat for sharks.

“Chishiya…?”, you whispered, gasping. “Chishiya, where are you?”

A/N: If I were Reader, I’d be shaking

[onetwofeb]

Dame Judi Dench

Sonnet 29: When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

(Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Love and War

Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter

Synopsis: Bob Floyd never expected to fall in love during the war, especially not with a pretty, young nurse during basic training. But love works in funny ways and can their love stand the rest of time, the war and the distance that separates them. Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+, smut. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upottery Airfield, England June 1944

The downpour of rain pounded on the wooden roof, echoing through the barracks and causing a deafening echoing. It seeped through the cracks and dropped down onto the men seated below, tricking down the backs of their necks and eliciting shivers. The jump had been called off again due to poor flying conditions and Bob and the other members of the Airborne Division were huddled in one of the wooden huts, still equipped with nearly everything they needed for the jump, faces smeared with black paint and a deep sense of defeat hanging in the air.

Most of the men had dumped their stuff back in their sleeping quarters, including the British issued leg bags that while none of the men had jumped with before in training, had been rammed full of extra ammunition and supplies. Overall each man was carrying about 100 extra pounds, some being 150 extra pounds, this was the point when Bob was truly glad he was a rifleman and not part of the mortar or machine gun squads. Everyone had been so prepared, veins pumping with adrenaline at the thought of their impending jump, only to be shot down in flames by the English weather yet again. Considering their almost disastrous practice run of D-Day at Slapton Sands, an air of uneasiness hung over the men. Bob picked carelessly at the seam of his cuff, pulling at the loose thread absentmindedly. It’s not like anyone would care if he had a thread loose now, Lewis wouldn’t be there to make him run Currahee again. Captain Lewis' words ran through Bob’s mind.

“You think you’re paratroopers, you’re not. You are children. You are a disgrace to this regiment.”

Bob thought it was the happiest day of his life when the regiment was shipped to England. Captain Lewis was staying in the States to train new paratroopers so Captain Moore had taken his place. Moore was a kind faced man who was far more knowledgeable than Lewis and had his men’s upmost respect. No more Captain Lewis, no more Currahea, but no more (y/n). After Toccoa, they had been split up for a while when Bob went to Fort Benning for his Airborne training but they met up again at several other bases, including Camp Mackall, much to Albert Miller’s dismay as he turned a blind eye to Bob sneaking into the aid station to steal her away. Bob had thought of (y/n) often during the crossing to England. Curled up on his tiny bunk bed, he’d lovingly traced his finger over the picture she’d given him, her bright smiling face staring back at him as he solemnly looked on. He’d tucked that picture into the breast pocket of his uniform, wanting to keep her close to his heart in the long days ahead.

(Y/n) and the other nurses from the Army Nurse Corps had been stationed at a military hospital in another part of England and while Bob was glad you weren’t going to Normandy with him, his heart already ached for you to be back in his arms. He’d been fortunate enough to have a seven day pass to London with some of the other men, which just so happened to coincide with your leave, meaning you’d spent seven blissful days together exploring the capital. Deep down he wished he’d told you how he truly felt but he knew nothing good could have come from it, not with war right around the corner. He loved you and while you had both loved each other, you’d said it in every way but those three words. He thought back to your last night together, curled up in the crumpled sheets back in London. (Y/n) had snuck Bob into her hotel room and they did their best to keep the noise down despite their antics. Bob smiled at the thought of her soft skin beneath his hands, plump lips against his, legs tangled together beneath the sheets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bob’s hand roamed up her thighs, unclasping her stockings and rolling them down simultaneously, taking as long as possible so he could savour each moment. She watched him intently, her heart beating quicker at the sight of him, his normally blue eyes were dark and filled with lust. He slid her skirt up, placing gentle kisses on her inner thighs as his hands pulled down her panties. He pushed her legs further apart before burying his face between her legs, placing a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin. She gasped, letting her head roll back against the bed, her cheeks blushing furiously as she groaned as Bob began to suck at her clit, his tongue toying with her folds. She squeezed her eyes shut, gasping loudly as she grabbed a fistful of Bob’s hair, pulling it harshly. Bob moaned as he began fumbling her clit between his teeth, the action only causing (y/n) to moan louder. The pleasure she felt was intense and she breathlessly mumbled, her whole body feeling hot all over as the pleasure pulsed through her.

“I’m so close,” she cried but Bob didn’t answer, his tongue working tirelessly to bring her to ecstasy. Bob slipped one finger, and then two into her, causing her to arch her back, crying out his name. Bob pumped his fingers slowly as she rode out her orgasm, clenching around his fingers, as the grip on his hair grew ever tighter until she relaxed. (Y/n) didn’t realise she’d had her eyes closed until she opened up and saw Bob looking down at her, a shy smile on his lips glistening with her wetness. Y/N could feel her whole body buzzing from the afterglow of her orgasm but she released Bob’s hair, running her hand down to cup his cheek and pull him in for a tender kiss. She could taste herself on his lips and she moaned into the kiss. (Y/n) pulled away, running her fingers over Bob’s swollen lips and hummed in appreciation. His once neatly gelled hair was dishevelled, his neck sporting a few bruises from her kisses earlier and his blue eyes watching her like a love-sick puppy. It amazed her how Bob could go from this love-making machine to the sweet boy that now sat in front of her. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth she gave him a devilish grin.

“I want you…” she trailed her fingers down Bob’s chest, unbuttoning it as she went. “I want you…” she repeated and (y/n) could see Bob’s eyes growing darker as he watched her actions.

“As you wish, Doll.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, stop doing that,” Jackson hissed, swatting Bob’s hand away. “Stop picking your sleeve.”

“Why?” Bob hissed back a little sharper than he had meant to. “It’s not like we’ve got anywhere to be.” Jackson sighed, knocking his friend playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t be in such a hurry to get yourself killed, Floyd.”

Jackson was right, the radioman was always right. He had a strange sense of humour and a boyish grin that caused women to fall at his feet. Bob thought he was only about 18 but he was 21, a full-grown adult, Jackson often reminded him. Bob was 23, and although he wasn’t much older than Jackson, he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’d been promoted to Staff Sergeant of 2nd platoon during their parachute training and Bob felt like he’d taken on the responsibility of the whole of Easy Company, not just a few Privates and Corporals. Jackson continued to talk in a hushed whisper but Bob had tuned out, his mind wandering to home, as the black and white images of the movie played before his eyes. Back in the States, it was about 5 pm, Bob thought to himself, imagining his mother cooking dinner in the kitchen whilst trying to control his two rowdy younger brothers. One of his brothers had asked Bob to bring back a Luger and much to his mother's dismay he’d promised he’d try. But honestly, Bob didn’t want to bring anything back from the war, he didn’t want his family to have any connection to the horrors he knew he’d be facing. No, the only thing Bob wanted to bring home from the war was you. He could imagine it now, painting the scene vividly in his mind of you helping his mother in the kitchen, playing in the yard with his brothers, and chatting with his father around the breakfast table. That was the image Bob wanted to stay with him forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bob had never felt travel sick before, even as a young boy he’d loved long car journeys but sat in what felt like a rickety tin of an aircraft waiting to jump out into the darkness above Normandy, Bob couldn’t stop his stomach from churning. It came in waves, rolling over him like a tide as he swallowed down the vomit that threatened to erupt from his mouth at any second. Doc Miller had issued the men with travel sickness tablets for the journey and although no one had a problem with this in training, many were grateful for them now. Captain Nelson, who had been promoted to Easy Company’s CO before D-Day, waved his hands at the men, indicating it was time to clip themselves onto the line and prepare to jump. Bob stood, his legs shaking like they were made of jelly and about to give way at any given moment. After 22 months of training the day had finally come, this was the big jump. The men on either side of him jostled about, knocking into each other like dominos. The green light appeared in the doorway and Bob watched as Lieutenant Nelson jumped out of the plane, disappearing into the night. One after another the paratroopers jumped, each jumping into enemy fire. When Bob’s turn came his palms were sweating and his knees nearly buckled.

“Go, go, go,” the paratrooper behind Bob shouted and Bob jumped. Flung into the night sky he hurriedly scrambled to hold onto the strings of his parachute in a desperate attempt to steer himself the best he could. Around him shells erupted in the sky, hitting the C47 planes. Bob watched in utter horror as one of the planes exploded before the soldiers even had time to jump, erupting in flames and hurtling towards Normandy.

The landing was rough, Bob couldn’t judge the distance from the ground and as his ankle connected with the floor he felt a surge of pain shoot up his leg. Scrambling to his feet, he gathered up the silk parachute, cutting the ties and hurriedly picking up his M1 Garand, his hands shaking as he hurriedly assembled it. Around him, gunfire echoed through the night as he hurried towards a group of trees. Ducking down Bob watched as several other paratroopers landed, most of them had been spread far and wide across Normandy due to the poor conditions and inexperience of the pilots but a lucky few landed together. Bob stood, shuffling out from his hiding place, his rifle raised.

The other paratroopers turned to him, “Flash?” One of them shouted out.

“Thunder,” Bob replied and he saw the three men visibly relaxed.

“Welcome,” they called back and Bob emerged from his hiding place waving to the other men who approached quickly, all squatting down, wide eyes darting around them in panic. Bob recognised two of the men from Dog Company but he couldn’t say he knew them, just from the odd encounters during training. The other man was unfamiliar to Bob, and the others it would seem, he stayed on the edge of the group, staying silent.

“Who are you?” Bob asked, his voice coming out in a harsh whisper and the young man looked behind him as if he wasn’t sure Bob was addressing him.

“I’m Private Garcia, from the 82nd Airborne Division, Sir,” he addressed Bob quietly, his cheeks blushing as he sat under the scrutiny of the three soldiers.

“82nd!” One of the men from Dog Company exclaimed. “Where the fuck are we?”

“I don’t know but we need to keep moving,” Bob stood motioning for the others to follow him. “Stay with us until we find your Division.” He told Garcia who nodded, following along at the back of the group. Along the way the group caught up with a small groups of other paratroopers from Able and Baker Company, all heading to the rendezvous point.

By the time they caught up with the others and regrouped, Easy Company had won its first of many battles.

“Floyd, you should have seen it. Everyone was firing and Lieutenant Nelson was instructing us to clear out the German’s trenches and we destroyed their 105mm,” Jackson reeled off, sounding far too excited about his first battle, his first victory. “And when the Tiger Tank came over the hill I was sure we were done for, we were out of TNT but then the M4s came out of the tree line and we sent them running for the hills.”

Bob smiled at the radioman who was still enthusiastically reeling off the day's events. He wished he had been there, fighting alongside his friends but he knew there would be many chances for that in the coming days. He left Jackson telling the story to the two men from Dog Company and Garcia from the 82nd and he made his way across the camp in search of Doc Miller. He found the medic in one of the abandoned buildings patching up a young, fresh-faced soldier, he didn’t look any worse for wear considering he’d been shot in the arm and smiled at Bob when he entered. Bob nodded his head in acknowledgement, waiting for the soldier to leave before approaching his friend. Miller looked up at him, his face still smeared in the remnants of black paint from the drop.

“Boy am I glad to see you, Doc. I’d recognise those dulcet tones anywhere,” Bob perched himself on one of the wooden chairs in the corner of the room, leaning his head against the wall with a dramatic sigh. The rumble of the M4s and trucks passed by outside, causing the wrecked beholding to shake, dust leaking through the holes in the roof, and the shouts of other platoon leaders sounded far away as Bob huddled further into his jacket, his eyes closed in the hope of a moment's peace. Miller let out a laugh, his heavy boots causing the floorboards to creak as he approached.

“Have you seen Jackson yet?” His smooth southern accent sounded like music to Bob’s ears after the night of endless complaints he’d endured from the Dog Company lads.

“Who hasn’t? He’s been telling half of the 101st what happened and anyone from the 82nd who would listen.” Bob was unable to wipe the coquettish smirk from his face as both men laughed, the young radioman’s enthusiasm was endearing really, his boyish charm radiating onto everyone who met him.

“How are you holding up?” Doc asked, eyeing Bob’s ankle that he had balanced on the table in front of him.

Bob snorted, “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Doc. I’ll just walk it off.” Bob jumped as he felt Miller’s cold fingers resting against the exposed skin of his ankle and hissed as the medic began to manoeuvre his boot off his foot. Deep purple bruises penetrated the skin and the whole foot was swollen, the skin stretched thinly over the inflamed area. Miller sighed, fishing in his bag and pulling out some fresh, white bandages. He strapped Bob’s foot tightly, winding the scratchy material around it before replacing his sock.

“I want you to keep off of it as much as possible and keep it raised when you can.” Miller’s eyes were stern as he looked at Bob but the playfulness behind his dark eyes made Bob smile.

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Bob grinned, pulling his boot back on and lacing it as best he could before hobbling back outside. Bob knew that this was just the beginning of what was yet to come.

“Oh Floyd,” Miller called after him, causing Bob to stop in his tracks, his heavy boots coming to a loud halt. “Did you hear about Captain Moore?”

Bob frowned, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “No, what happened?”

“His plane was hit, no one even got the chance to jump. Poor bastards didn’t stand a chance.” Miller looked solemn. “Nelson’s now Easy’s CO and it looks like he’ll be promoted to Captain after today.”

Bob nodded, no words needed to be exchange from the news. Captain Moore would have been a good combat leader had he been given the chance to prove himself but Bob and the rest of East Company knew that Lieutenant Nelson was more than capable of leading them to greatness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Doll,

By now you’ve probably heard that we’ve landed in Normandy. The drop was hard and we lost a lot of good men but so far our advances have been successful. The Germans aren’t making this easy for us but we knew that no part of this god-forsaken war was going to be easy. We’re being sent back to Aldbourne for some R and R, for how long I do not know. There is very little they tell us, even Leuitenant Nelson seems to be kept in the dark. I can’t wait to see you once I’m back in England. I can’t tell you much more than that my love but just know I miss you so much. I think of you every night before I sleep and every morning when I wake and all the time in between. I’ll try to write to you as much as I can. I hold your letters close to my heart, my darling, and your picture. They keep me going when I feel that I can’t go on. I love you and I’ll see you soon. Love your Bobby

Dear Bobby,

I was so glad to receive your letter before we shipped out. I am being moved to an aid station somewhere in France to help the wounded soldiers. I don’t yet know where I will be stationed but I will try to write to you as soon as I can. I’m sorry to be missing you in Aldbourne. I’ve missed you so much Bob, not a day goes by when I don’t think about you. I can’t believe it’s been over a month since you left. This place just doesn’t feel the same without you. I feel as if you took part of me with you the day you left, just promise me you’ll bring it back. How is Albert getting on? Please send him my love. I’ve missed having all of you boys around. I love you my darling. Your (y/n) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @callsign-phoenix @shadowsintheknight @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake @emorychase @wkndwlff @shanimallina87 @jstarr86 @starkleila @callsignmeiga

[privateersandpoems]

Sonnet 29

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me to like one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love rememberered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.