#Carwood Lipton x OC

[sergeant-spoons]

24. Andante, Andante

Phyllis Dotson

Taglist: @thoughpoppiesblow​​ @chaosklutz​​ @wexhappyxfew​​ @50svibes​​ @tvserie-s-world​​ @adamantiumdragonfly​​ @ask-you-what-sir​​ @whovian45810​​ @brokennerdalert​​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​​ @claire-bear-1218​​ @heirsoflilith​​ @itswormtrain​​ @actualtrashpanda​​ @wtrpxrks​​

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Forecasted snow on December 24th pushed Christmas Eve dinner at Mr. and Mrs. Dotson's back to lunchtime, but nobody minded much. Phyllis had to rush decorating the desserts she'd made the night before, but thanks to Lip, who packed up the truck and got everything else ready to go, they managed to avoid running late. As expected, Lip came inside and thanked Phyllis' mother and father for inviting him. Mrs. Dotson kissed his cheeks and told him he was always welcome. Mr. Dotson handed him the butcher's knife in the kitchen and suggested he carve the turkey. Phyllis could hear Lip bashfully refusing from the hall as she took off her winter boots and knew then that he'd been welcomed into the family completely.

The meal was pleasant and the company even better. Phyllis didn't play any music this time around, but her father did, and the radio kept them entertained otherwise. They sang Christmas songs and ate until they felt so full they could barely move. Phyllis went to wash the dishes and Lip joined her, though she insisted she was fine on her own. He wouldn't step away, so she let him stay with the dishtowel and giggled silently when he pretended to fall asleep over the sink. He complimented her on her baking, as always, and she thanked him for indulging in her hobby. He looked surprised.

"Not so much a hobby anymore, Dottie," he told her. "You're a professional. You've got clients—and you just bought a piano, for pete's sake."

Phyllis gave him a puzzled look.

Who's Pete?

Lip looked confused, but then Phyllis started to smile and laugh, and he realized she was only kidding. He sighed and gently thwacked her arm with the dishtowel, and she flicked a handful of suds at him in retribution. He jumped out of the way, scoffing in a teasing voice that she almost ruined his nice dinner pants, and she rolled her eyes and called him silly.

"Only for you, Dot," he muttered as he left to hang up his apron, almost as if he hadn't meant Phyllis to hear. She let it pass and welcomed him back to the sink a few seconds later. Her thoughts got the better of her, though, and she eventually raised her hands to ask him the question that had been at the back of her mind all day.

You don't mind spending so much time with my family on the holidays, do you?

Again, she'd surprised him.

Sometimes, I worry you do, she added quickly, then had to repeat it for him to catch her meaning.

"I'm just fine, Phyllis," he gently reassured her, sensing her guilt although she'd tried to hide it. "I was with my family a few weeks ago, remember? We spent that weekend in Virginia Beach for the holidays. That was our Christmas. We had gifts and everything."

Phyllis pouted.

If I'd have known that, I would have sent you with more than a peach cobbler.

"Oh, hush," he said, sounding fonder than ever. "That cobbler was the star of every meal we had there. And before you say it again—no, Dottie, I don't mind this. I like it. I enjoy it. Seriously."

She sighed and leaned into his arm as he rubbed circles over her shoulder with his warm hand, soothing her worries with his touch as much as his words.

"This time with your family, and especially with you, is just the kind of Christmas I've been looking forward to."

She looked up at him with a smile and almost dropped a glass on the floor rather than setting it into the sink. Lip redirected her hand, but she hardly noticed, transfixed by the genuine warmth on his face. Suddenly, his touch on her shoulder felt hot, and she shied away.

'Especially me'? she asked him once she'd found the nerve again, and he drew her away from the sink and into a hug.

"Yeah, of course, 'especially you'. Merry Christmas, Dottie."

Merry Christmas, Lip.

After they finished the dishes and stalled in the living room a bit too long, eyeing the clouds clustering overhead, Phyllis hung up the last few ornaments on the tree (a family tradition) and hugged her parents goodbye. With many Merry Christmases and Happy-Holidays to keep them company on the road, Phyllis and Lip climbed into the truck just as it began to snow. They made it home before the plows were out on the roads and hurried inside, holding their hoods over their heads as the wind started to pick up. Lip started a fire in the fireplace and Phyllis took a few minutes to tune her new piano. It had gotten a little out of tune thanks to the record humidity they'd experienced the week it shipped, but the piano itself and all its components were undamaged. She looked over at Lip and admired the bend of his strong arms as he adjusted the wood under the mantle, concentrating on getting it to light. Successful, he rose, dusted off his hands, and went to lounge on the couch with a glass of mulled cider in one hand and yesterday's paper in the other. Phyllis played Christmas tunes and tried to remember which pedal did what (all but one on her old piano had stopped working years ago). She thought she sounded clunky and out of practice, but Lip told her she was playing marvelously enough times that she almost believed it.

By five o'clock, the snow was coming down hard enough that it seemed almost like night had set in early. Having exhausted her Christmas repertoire, Phyllis closed the piano and looked out the window, enjoying the flickering firelight reflected in the windowpane. Lip got up and fiddled with the radio to put on some slow music—Bing Crosby seemed the favorite of the season—and Phyllis left the window to go make cocoa. She came back with a mug for herself and a mug for Lip and sat down on the couch. Lip had disappeared into his bedroom but reappeared shortly, humming along to "Silent Night". He leaned over the back of the couch and draped a blanket over Phyllis, who sat warming her hands on the cocoa mug, waiting for it to cool enough so as not to burn her tongue. She patted the couch beside her and he sat down, thanking her for the cocoa as he picked up the mug she'd left for him on the end table. Made sleepy and daring by the warm fire and the sweet music, they inched closer and closer until they were pressed up against one another, sipping silently at their cocoa and enjoying the evening as only more-than-friends could.

Reno appeared and curled on top of the blanket, settling against Phyllis' stomach, and Moon soon did the same on top of Lip. They shared a quiet joke about being trapped, but neither cared much, and they might have fallen asleep there if Lip hadn't picked Moon up and set him on the end of the couch so he could get up to use the bathroom. Phyllis could hear the tap running and Lip humming along to the music again as he brushed his teeth (this time, it was "The Way You Look Tonight") and it woke her up enough to scoot out from under Reno and stretch her legs some. Lip came back from the bathroom with a little toothpaste on his chin, and she wiped it off without thinking twice, then left to take their mugs to the kitchen sink and missed the way Lip trailed after her, smiling like he knew something she didn't. She kissed his cheek goodnight and crawled into bed, and before she knew it, Christmas morning had arrived.

They slept in later than usual but got up before the foxes had finished tiptoeing around the backyard and leaving their prints in the snow. Phyllis had Lip call Bec to wish her a happy birthday—Lip translated her signing into speech for Bec, who teased Phyllis a moment later about letting a man speak for her—and they talked for a few minutes until it came time for Christmas breakfast. Phyllis started on the roast at the same time—it would take many hours to cook—and Lip went into town to get the morning paper and wish his friends and family a Merry Christmas. He returned earlier than she'd expected, only an hour after he'd left, and reported that the roads were all but clear and the snow didn't seem to be sticking anywhere it shouldn't. She'd just put the roast in the oven when he poked his head through the door, hiding his present for her behind his back. She tried to look around him to see it, but all she caught was a glimpse of wrapping paper before he laughed and backed away, teasing her for being an eager beaver. She rolled her eyes and thought to herself that making jokes like that before becoming a father was just ridiculous, but then the thought of Lip as a father—and her as a mother—made her blush, and she forgot about the gift entirely.

Lip came back into the kitchen with something else behind her back, and Phyllis almost teased him for trying this again, but before she could, he promised this was something she could have at once. She took off her apron and hung it up on its usual peg, then peered around him as he turned away. They danced around like this until she came up close to him, backing him up against the doorframe, and batted her lashes at him. He faltered and nearly dropped the gift, but then slipped out from her grasp and presented his hands to her. It was a bouquet of orchids. Phyllis was astonished, but Lip wouldn't tell her how he'd managed to get such fresh and beautiful flowers right after a snowstorm in the middle of December. As he filled her favorite vase with water from the sink, he looked over his shoulder and told her proudly that he'd been planning this for weeks. As soon as the orchids were safe in the vase and the vase was safe on the kitchen table, Phyllis pulled Lip into a hug and pressed her face into his chest, happy as could be.

"You smell like cinnamon and ginger," Lip told her, chuckling. "I like it."

A little while later, they took to opening their presents, starting with the gifts they'd wrapped for the cats. Reno liked the boxes more than the toys, but Moon went crazy for the catnip and spent all day infatuated with one jingling ball in particular. Lip gave Phyllis three notebooks to record her best recipes in and a handsome rocking chair he'd made by hand. How he'd kept it a secret from her, Phyllis couldn't guess, but somehow, he'd done it. It must have taken months to make, between work and looking after his mother and spending time here with her. It was beautiful, covered in hand-carved flowers and plants, and it made Phyllis feel a little self-conscious about her gift to him until she saw him open it. His face lit up and he held it up to his chest immediately. When he turned his beaming smile towards Phyllis, she felt as if she'd been graced by the light of the sun.

"I love it," he said, pulling off his shirt to slip the sweater on at once. "I'm going to wear it every day."

Not in the summer, though, she teased him, and he shook his head, fixing his hair after pushing his head through the neck hole.

"No, no, every day. I mean it. Don't care how warm it is outside. This is perfect, Dottie, thank you."

There's more than one in there.

"What?! Really?"

Yes, really.

She'd made him a set of sweaters, jackets, vests, and socks, all matching in the same color scheme but slightly different. She'd embroidered patterns of the things she knew he loved most on the hems, collars, and cuffs of each. He put on the socks, too, and would have added the vest on top had Phyllis not warned him against overheating. He hugged her, and she, feeling as though she ought to show her gratitude better, got to her feet and picked up Reno, who seemed displeased to be removed from her box but patient enough to be held for a minute. She danced around the rocking chair, admiring it from every angle, and Lip, sitting on the floor, was struck by the realization much too late that he should have strung up mistletoe. He felt a twinge of regret as he promised himself he would next year, and the regret turned to sudden sadness as he supposed they might always be friends and nothing more. Phyllis noticed that his excitement had waned and came over to the couch, presenting Reno as a means of comfort. Reno jumped away and returned to her box, and Phyllis, laughing, fell into Lip's lap instead, curling up against his chest like she'd wanted to the night before. She hadn't had the courage, then, but the smile on his face and the Christmas spirit in her heart had given her enough mettle to properly cuddle with him today.

"Merry Christmas, Dot," he whispered against her hair as she pressed her face into his neck and let out a long, contented sigh, and just for a moment, Lip let himself pretend that the firelight dancing over her fingers might one day catch on a wedding ring and flash its glory for all to see.

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A week later, the night before New Year's Eve saw Phyllis and Lip attempting to take down their Christmas tree. It was even more of a struggle than putting up had been, but with gravity on their side, a lot of patience, and a sturdy broom, they managed. They loaded the tree into the back of Lip's truck, and he set off to bring it back to the tree farm as most families in the area did this time each year. They'd make good use of it, there—better use of it than anything Phyllis or Lip could think of. They made sure they had all their ornaments and tinsel packed away in boxes before they gave up the tree for good, and when Lip left right around noon, Phyllis decided to spend her time sewing until he returned. She kept glancing at the clock without really meaning to, but as the hours passed and the shows on the radio changed again and again, she started to get antsy. She just couldn't get him off her mind, and it was driving her a little crazy. She had dinner alone, and by the time he finally pulled into the driveway well after dark, she was at her wits' end.

"You shouldn't have waited up for me," he told her as he hung up his coat. "Looks like it's starting to snow again."

She got up from the kitchen table and closed her book, but when he didn't say anything more, she signed a rather curt goodnight and went to bed, closing her bedroom door for the first time in months. After a few minutes, she regretted it, and when she went to open the door again, Lip was standing there, looking down the hall at his own bedroom. As soon as he heard her door open, he turned back, and she let him in, returning to her bed and picking up her book. He paused by the wardrobe and fiddled with the knob that spun as he thought about what to say. She could see the thinking in his eyes, and so she put down her book and showed him she was willing to listen. No doubt he could tell she wasn't focused on the book, anyway.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long," he told her. "I didn't mean to be, but there was a shortage of the staff, and, well, I just thought I could help, you know? Seems like there's a bout of pneumonia going around the place, and-"

As soon as she realized what he meant, she got up out of bed, her nightgown swishing around her legs. and came over to the wardrobe to hug him. He seemed confused but returned the embrace, and when she signed something he couldn't read in the dark, he gently took her by the arms and led her over to the window. The snow blotted out the moonlight enough that it didn't help much, so Phyllis went and turned on the lamp, and they stood there in the low light, a few feet apart and wishing they weren't so.

I was worried about you, she admitted. I was worried something might have happened with your mother or your sisters. I was worried the roads had iced over and something terrible had happened. I was worried, Lip. You worried me.

He looked pained for a moment, but then turned it into a look of apology, and when he came forward to hug her again, she let him. He asked tentatively if she could forgive him and she told him there was nothing to forgive. She thought she felt him kiss the top of her head, but she wasn't sure, and when he left to go to bed, she almost asked him to stay but didn't find the nerve in time.

The next morning, Lip woke up with a bad cold. It wasn't the pneumonia he'd talked about before, but it still wasn't a pretty thing, and he spent all day in bed. She could tell he felt awful, and he kept trying to apologize for ruining their plans for the day, but every time he did, she put her hand over his mouth to quiet him and told him to hush and focus on getting better. They'd planned for her to meet his family that day, but as soon as Phyllis realized Lip was sick, she made him call to reschedule. His mother understood and so did his sisters, and that seemed to relieve him enough to let her guide him back to bed. She tended to him all day, making soup and fresh bread and potatoes and tea and whatever else he might have needed to regain his strength for when the holidays were up and he'd have to go back to work. By the time night fell, Lip was so tired he didn't have the energy to fall asleep. Phyllis stayed with him, stroking his hair and handing him tissues, until he finally drifted off into an uneasy but much-needed slumber. She looked up at the clock and leaned down to kiss his forehead, supposing that since 9:12 p.m. had a "12" in it, it was as close to midnight as she would get tonight.

Oh, well. Maybe next year.

Three days later, Lip had finally turned the corner in his illness. He was getting better but still not fully restored to his usual healthy self; today, for instance, he was still asleep even though it was almost ten in the morning. As she waited for the oven to finish heating up—she had a few cake orders to fulfill today, she stood by the sink and read the paper. She'd gone to get it the last few days in lieu of Lip's usual trip into town, but today, her father had brought it over, saying there was something in there she ought to read. There was a several-page story about how the war had gotten on in Europe, whether or not Roosevelt would involve the States, and on which side America would land. The thought of siding with the Germans left a bad taste in Phyllis' mouth, but the idea of joining the war at all felt even worse. It had been a little over a year by now since Germany invaded Poland, and the USA had yet to formally and militarily pledge its allegiance. Phyllis hadn't thought much about it in the past year, but then again, she had the privilege to, so far away from everything happening over there. It disturbed her, to picture her brothers, Lip, and all the other young men in her community and family in military greens, about to ship off to war. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. Her life was almost perfect just as it was. Damn any war that tried to take it—to take Lip, in particular—away from her.

Lip came into the kitchen from the living room, and Phyllis realized he must have been in there longer than she'd thought when she heard the fireplace crackling. He felt well enough to make a fire; that was good, at least. He had a blanket around his shoulders and asked her at once what she was reading, but she folded the paper back, set it aside, and signed to him that it was nothing of note. She left the oven to get her batter out of the fridge and asked if he wanted some eggs for breakfast. He said yes and thanked her, but when she turned around with the eggs (and bacon) in hand, she discovered him about to pick up the paper. She put her head down and went to light the stovetop, and when she looked up again, Lip was frowning, reading the same article she'd been bothered by. The kettle whistled, and she poured him a cup of tea, quick to bring it over and replace the troublesome paper with something more pleasant. He thanked her for the tea, sleepily kissed the top of her head, and wandered back to the couch where he'd been reading and resting. Phyllis had tried not to show how worried she was, but she knew he'd seen, and that he'd taking special care of her today, even though he was the sick one.

I love you, she signed sadly at his back, and when he glanced over his shoulder as if he somehow knew, she busied herself with the stove and their breakfast of eggs.

By the morning of January 5th, the Christmas snow had returned full force and Lip was back to his usual self. He went out to chop wood despite the lazy gusts of wind and the freezing temperatures and would only be coaxed back inside by the promise of a hot and hearty lunch. They spent the day doing chores around the house that they'd been putting off, and once they were finally done, Phyllis made cookies. She brought the platter into the living room, where Lip was sitting on the floor and listening to the radio. He sighed and told her she was too kind to spoil him like this but took the cookies anyway. They snacked and practiced sign language for a little while, at Lip's request. He learned a few new words, and Phyllis learned a bit about the way he understood the language. It was different from how she understood it, and she wondered if her and Lip's experiences would have differed, too, from that of someone hard of hearing. She and Lip wondered about it for a minute, then got up to make dinner, play Parcheesi, and let Lip catch up on the sick-day paperwork he had to submit to his work before returning to the job. Phyllis sat with him for moral support.

By the time 8 o'clock rolled around, she could tell he was exhausted and done. She caught him looking at her violin case, and he mentioned that he hadn't heard her play her violin since Thanksgiving. He was right; she hadn't played at all. She hadn't meant to forget it, but with the holidays and the new piano and Lip's illness, she'd neglected her instrument. He asked if she'd play him something special before he went to bed, and she almost declined in favor of getting him to rest sooner, but then a memory struck her, and she impulsively agreed. He moved from the stiff chair at the table to the more comfortable couch as she opened her violin case, tuned her instrument, and rosined up the bow. She played the song she wrote after she'd met him, one of the only pieces she'd composed herself in her whole lifetime. He said it was a lovely piece, that he was impressed by her writing it, and asked what had inspired it.

She almost didn't want to tell him, but when he looked at her with such sweetness, how could she hide anything from him?

Feeling her cheeks begin to pinken and warm, Phyllis bashfully indicated that he, Lip, had been her inspiration, but did not stick around to see his reaction beyond the look of flattered surprise that initially crossed his face. As she shut her bedroom door, annoyed at herself for hiding once again but relieved that she didn't have to know what he might think of her admission, she realized she'd never told him the name of the piece: "Friend". Torn as to whether or not she should say so, she almost left her room to mention it to him when she heard him walk down the hallway and stop just outside her door. He waited a moment and then another, then continued on, and Phyllis, dizzy with embarrassment and wanting, decided to just go to bed, after all.

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[mccall-muffin]

The things you don't know - Part 1 // Carwood Lipton x OC

Summary: Being in the army as a woman can be challenging. That's what Tori needed to learn as well. Four weeks in, she has no friends, no one to back her up, and she is living in the constant fear that her brother finds out that she enlisted. But one day, everything changed.

Warnings: Language

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softguarnere

Here is the prologue!

October 5, 1942 - Camp Toccoa, Georgia, USA

"Name?" "McNeil, Victoria M." "What exactly are you doing here, Private McNeil? You're a woman. You don't belong here. Or are you trying to prove me wrong?" "Yes, sir!" "We'll see about that." With only her eyes, Victoria pursued Lieutenant Sobel. She had never hated anyone as much as she hated this man. For four weeks, Tori had been at Camp Toccoa and Easy Company, and still, this son of a bitch acted like he had forgotten her name every time. That he didn't want her here, she was well aware of.

Sobel went through the ranks and picked apart one soldier after another. At least it cheered Tori up a bit to know that Sobel wasn't just out to get her. Finally, he ended up revoking all of their weekend passes.

"Put on your PT gear; we're running Currahee," were his last words, and Tori groaned softly. That was the second thing she hated. This mountain they ran up and down at least once every day. She followed the other soldiers back to the barracks and briskly changed her clothes. "You better get home while you still can, doll," someone suddenly said to her. As she turned, Bill Guarnere looked at her with pity yet slight irritation. "Why should I?" was all she returned. Bill just shrugged his shoulders. "Would be better for ya, I guess. Women don't belong in the Army." Inside, Tori was already boiling. She had a temper, she knew that, and it was very easy to bring it out, depending on the subject.

Before she could reprimand Bill, the door opened, and Carwood Lipton entered the barracks. "All right, let's go. On the road, in PT formation. Let's move, move, move," he shouted, then looked briefly at Tori and Bill. "Guarnere, McNeil! Come on!" demanded Lip looking at Tori for a moment before she walked past him.

Carwood was impressed with Tori from the start. After all, she put up with Sobel for four weeks, even though he made her life hell. With her ash blonde hair, small height, and blue eyes, she didn't stand out much out, but something about her captivated Carwood. However, they were preparing for war, not for a dating spree. Besides, fraternization among soldiers is strictly forbidden.

As they ran up the hill, Tori was among the furthest behind. Physically, she was weaker than the men, and her legs were shorter. And yet she gave it her all. "Come on, Victoria. You can do it," she heard Lipton next to her. He was the only one who called her by her first name. Everyone else addressed her only as McNeil.

McNeil. That was the other thing... Because that wasn't even her real name. As it was her mother's maiden name, Tori went by a different one. And this one was Victoria Martha Speirs. But no one was supposed to know this. Above all, her brother should not see that she was here. When Ron told her about the paratroopers, Tori was blown away. Of course, Ron volunteered and also for the paratroopers. Ron wanted to be one of the best. And it was a good fit for him, too. But when he had already been gone for some time, Tori felt useless. She kept reading about the troop her brother had joined in various magazines, and the desire to do the same grew. Finally, she had gone through with it. Even though it wasn't effortless for a woman to even get into the army, let alone the paratroopers, Tori had somehow managed it.

In the last letter Ron had written her while she was still at home, he had told her that he was being transferred to Camp Toccoa, Georgia, and assigned to Baker Company. At the time, those words didn't have much meaning to Tori, but panic set in when she learned that she was also being assigned to Camp Toccoa. Her brother would have a fit if he knew she was here. At least Tori was assigned to Easy Company and not Baker. However, it would have been funny to see Ron's face's look if he spotted her. Whereas he probably would have kicked her out the door himself.

When they returned from Currahee, Tori was out of breath and sweaty. Her face was red, and her hands and feet were swollen. Quickly she went back to her barracks to get the shower things, but when she came back out, she found herself in a group of soldiers from a strange company. "Hey, sweetheart, are you lost?" she heard the first chatter. "What are you doing here?" it continued. She was used to the catcalls by now. And then something happened Tori didn't expect at all.

"Victoria?"

Tori jerked her head up and looked for the soldier who had called her name. "Jesus Christ, David?" she asked when she spotted him. David Webster. The Harvard boy. "You know the doll, Webster?" one of the other soldiers asked, looking at Web. "Yeah, I do, so shut up, Thompson," Web glared at him. "What are you doing here, Tori?" asked Webster, striding toward her. His comrades didn't seem to find this exciting anymore, so they continued walking. "Eh, we're off, Web," they called after him some more, and he gave a half-hearted wave.

Web quickly had his attention back on Tori. "So? What are you doing here?" asked Web again. "I volunteered," Tori said with a shrug. "And your brother just let that happen? I thought he was so protective of you?" "Well, he doesn't know anything about it," Tori said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. A grin settled on Web's face. "Victoria Martha Speirs..." he began, but Tori immediately put a hand over his mouth to silence him. "Shh!" She looked around to make sure no one heard her. "Mhmhmhm," Web asked under Tori's hand, which she took back from his mouth. "What?" she asked, confused. "What was that about?" "No one here knows my real name, David. And I want to keep it that way! And they are not supposed to know who my brother is!" whispered Tori. She points to her name tag on her ODs.

"What, why is that?" "Isn't it obvious? I thought you were the smart one of the two of us," she said, frowning. "Ron's in the paratroopers, too. But I don't want him to know about this. If I'd signed up with my real name, he'd have had me out of here in a day. That's why I signed up with my mother's maiden name." Web nodded slowly. "I see, and your brother is here too?" he asked, looking around for a moment. "Yes. At least here in Toccoa. He's a platoon leader at Baker Company. But enough about me. What about you? What about your studies? Don't tell me you dropped out?"

Web laughed at the sudden change of subject, but that was Tori's way. "Well, I felt obligated to help. And why not be one of the best when you have the opportunity? They assigned me to Fox Company. And as for going to college... Harvard can wait. This is more important." Tori smiled at David's words. Then she takes him in her arms. "Oh, I missed you, Brainy."

"Hey, McNeil! If you want some more hot water, you should move your butt now!" They heard someone call out. Tori broke away from David and saw Joe Toye nodding his head toward the showers. "See you later?" Tori then asked David, who nodded. "Sure thing. We could go out this weekend?" he asked, and Tori pressed her lips together. "My weekend pass was revoked. The whole company's." "What?" "Our CO's an ass. But I've got to get going. See you, David." She waved goodbye to him, then headed for the showers with her things.

When she got back out of the shower, she bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry," she said quickly, seeing that it was Wayne Sisk. He was one of Easy Company's first soldiers, she had learned. "No, I wasn't paying attention," he said quickly, smiling at Tori. Tori smiled as well. She had never really talked to Skinny, as they called him. "You... Your name is Victoria, right?" he asked a little shyly, and she nodded. "I'm Wayne, but everyone calls me Skinny," he said, extending his hand to her, which she accepted. "Nice to meet you," she smiled back.

She eyed Skinny for a moment. He was really cute; she had to hand it to him. "We're playing a game of cards tonight. Are you in?" he asked out of the blue, and Tori looked at him in surprise. The boys had never invited her to play cards with them before. "Uh, yeah, sure, why not?" "Well, good...", Skinny said thoughtfully and smiled at Tori again. He'd never admit it, but the blonde made him nervous. And Skinny was far from that otherwise. At least not when it came to girls.

In the evening, Tori was a little nervous. Not about Skinny, but about the other guys. After all, she didn't know how they would react if she suddenly stood among them. "Hey, Vic. You ready?" she then heard a voice from the entrance. Amused, Tori turned around. "Vic?" she asked, addressing Skinny, who stood grinning in the doorway. The latter just smiled at her and shrugged. "Well, I thought Victoria was so formal, don't you think? Or do you have another nickname?" Tori laughed. "Well, most people call me Tori," she explained, but Skinny cringed. "I kind of like Vic better. I'll call you Vic." "Well then," Tori said. "Do what you can't help doing."

"So, are you ready? The others are waiting. " Tori nodded. "Yep," she said, zipping up her jacket before following Skinny out the door. "Do the others actually know you invited me?" asked Tori as the two headed toward the dining hall. "Sure," was all Skinny said. "Skinny?" asked Tori again, causing him to stop. He turned to look at her before taking a step toward her. A faint scent of whiskey rose to Tori's nose. "Fine, I didn't tell them anything. But it doesn't matter, because you're coming with me now to meet the guys. We're a company; why should you be any different just because you're a girl?"

Tori faltered for a moment before nodding slowly. "Come on," Skinny said, pulling her by the arm. "You're not afraid of Sobel; why would you be afraid of the boys?" "I don't know, Skinny. But they don't seem too pleased with my presence..." "Who couldn't be pleased by the presence of a pretty woman? They just don't know you yet."

Tori didn't reply to anything more. Had Skinny just called her pretty? Skinny had let the words slip from his lips faster than he could have stopped it.

The boys were already looking up as they entered the mess hall together. "Skinny, there you are at last!" shouted Malarkey to him already. "And you've got McNeil with you?" he asked. Tori's nervousness rose at the questioning look Malarkey was giving her. " Folks," Skinny said, pushing the young blonde in front of her. "This here is Victoria. Or rather, Vic," he introduced her, and she had to stifle an eye roll at her new nickname.

"We know what her name is, Skinny," Joe Liebgott said, annoyed, looking at Tori with raised eyebrows. "Yeah, but we don't know her. And we're going to change that now," Skinny said, pushing Tori into an empty chair. There was silence for a moment, and everyone looked at Tori. "Maybe this was a stupid idea, Skinny," Tori whispered to him uneasily. "Oh, bullshit!" Skinny looked around at the faces of his friends. "Come on, guys... She's part of our company. She's one of us, so treat her that way." Grateful, Tori looked to Skinny, who pulled a flask from his pocket and took a sip.

Joe Liebgott looked at Tori for another moment before he began shuffling the cards and shrugging his shoulders. "Fine by me. You play poker?" he then asked, and Tori nodded.

Six years earlier:

"I'll never learn," Tori whined as she lost again to her big brother. "Eventually, even your birdbrain will understand, Tori," he laughed as he dealt the cards again. "Why are we still doing this anyway, Ron?" "So you can learn. Poker is fun, and you'll learn."

"All right..." said Malarkey then, sitting down on the other side of Tori. Also sitting at the table with them were Muck, More, Alley, and to Tori's surprise, Lipton. She glanced briefly at him, and he smiled encouragingly at her. A wry smile also appeared on Tori's face as she looked at her sergeant. She didn't tear her gaze away from Lip until Skip placed a beer in front of her. "Sorry, we don't have anything else," he said, and she nodded her thanks. "That's okay. That works for me."

They'd been on for a few rounds when only Tori and Lipton were left in a game at one point. Everyone stared at their sergeant, whose turn it was. Lip studied his cards before turning his gaze to Tori, who was trying to keep her best poker face. "I'll raise you two," Lip says, tossing two dollars into the middle. Tori briefly glances at the center before looking Lip in the eye again. She licks her lips and bites down on them shortly. Lip's eyes automatically moved to Tori's lips, and he got slightly nervous.

"I'll call your two and raise you two more," Tori said, smiling mischievously at Lip. "Come on, Sarge, you're not going to put up with that, are you?" asked Malarkey, grinning at Lip, who was studying his cards again. "Hey, why don't you make it a little more interesting?" then interjected Liebgott, who looked at Tori with an interested grin. His sentence tore Tori away from Lipton so that she was now looking at him. "What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"All or nothing. All in!" Liebgott then said, and Tori looked back at Lip, who was also looking at her. 'Jesus, this game has too much eye contact,' Tori thought as she averted her gaze from Lip again. She then pushed her cards together and placed them face down on the table before folding her hands over them and looking at Lip again. "All in," he said, rummaging in his wallet and then tossing a few dollar bills into the middle. "Twenty dollars."

"Fine by me. But I want something else if I win," she said perkily, taking out $20 and putting it in the middle, and Lip raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, and what would that be?" "A dance." "What?" "A dance when we finally get to keep our next weekend pass." "If it's just that," Malarkey laughed, and everyone looked to Lip. The latter nodded before tossing his cards into the middle. "Flush," he said mischievously, as much as he ever could, and then looked at Tori, who looked at his cards in shock for a moment. Then she looked back at him. "That's too bad," she said, and the guys were already starting to cheer. Tori looked briefly at Skinny, who looked at her with pity, but then she threw her cards into the middle. "That's too bad, but I'm afraid you owe me a dance, Lip. Full house!"

There was silence for a few seconds, but laughter and cheers erupted. "Whoa, Lip, she just tore you apart," Malarkey laughed, patting Tori on the back. "Not bad, McNeil!" Alley congratulated her, and she took a sip of her beer while grinning at Lip, who probably still couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

"You're really all right, Vic," Skip laughed, toasting Tori. Tori smiled contentedly and slumped back in her chair. The guys around her were still clowning around, teasing Lip about his loss. Tori couldn't hide a laugh and felt like she belonged for the first time since she'd been in Toccoa.

The following day, when Tori entered the mess hall to have breakfast alone, as usual, she was surprised when a few voices suddenly called out to her.

"Hey, Vic! Here!" Looking up, she quickly spotted Skinny, Liebgott, and Alley sitting at the table with Tipper. She looked at them for a moment to make sure they meant her. But then she nodded and gestured briefly toward the food counter.

She approached the boys with her tray when she got the food. "Hey Vic, we saved you a seat," Joe said directly, pointing to the empty chair next to Skinny. Tori sat down and smiled at the guys. "Thanks... That's nice of you guys," she said hesitantly and started eating the grayish-looking oatmeal. "No biggie, you're with us now," Alley grinned at her, which made Tori laugh. "That sounds like, like, a gang or something," she laughed, and the others did the same. "More like a company," Skinny said, nudging Tori briefly.

"You still have to answer me one question, Vic," Joe then butted in again. Tori looked up at him and raised her eyebrows. "Huh?" "Why a dance with Lip?" he asked, and Tori almost choked on her coffee. She coughed twice and then looked at Joe again. "Well, I uh... I don't know," she said, briefly considering why she'd asked him for a dance. "Because if you're looking for a good dancer... Then you better take me," Joe continued, and the boys around him laughed. "Yeah, sure, Lieb. That would suit you," Tipper laughed, slapping Joe on the shoulder. "What? I'm just speaking the truth. You could ask the girls at the bar, and they'll tell you."

Renewed laughter erupted at their table before Joe turned back to Tori, who had hoped he had already forgotten about the question. "So, Vic? Why Lip?" Tori glanced briefly at Skinny next to her, who was also looking at her with interest. "Well... I thought it would be funny. Sergeant Lipton has always struck me as a bit - how shall I put it - reserved, and I just can't picture him twirling girls around or anything, which is why I wanted to get him a bit... Out of his shell."

Tori's gaze traveled straight down the mess hall, stopping briefly at her sergeant. Then she looked back at Joe and shrugged. "I still think the idea is pretty funny." "And believe me, everyone probably wants to be there because we're definitely not missing the show," Alley laughed now, and Tipper nodded in agreement. "Oh, for sure."

Suddenly someone sat down across from Vic. "Fucking hell, what's this crap again?" the soldier, who turned out to be Frank Perconte, got annoyed. Suddenly he looked up and realized that Vic was sitting across from him. He paused in his movement and opened his mouth to say something. "Since when are you sitting here?" he asked after a while of silence. Tori frowned for a moment, then looked over at Joe, Skinny, and the others for help. "I, uh..." the blonde stammered uncertainly. "Let her, Frank. She's with us now," Skinny said quickly, getting Percone's attention. "Uh-huh," was all he said then, silently continuing to eat his food while Tori sat uncomfortably across from him.

A few minutes later, Tori's attention was drawn outside. There stood David, gesturing with his head for her to follow him. She nodded barely noticeably and then slowly stood up. "Uh, if you'll excuse me," she said absently, then headed for the door. "Hey, Vic. Stay," Skinny called after her, but Tori was already out the door. "Way to go, Frank," the private reprimanded his friend. "What? I didn't do anything!" the latter defended himself with his mouth full. "She's having a hard enough time with Sobel picking on her all the time. Why do we have to do this, too, huh?" "What's the matter, Skinny? Are you in love?" now quipped Malarkey, who had also just sat at the table. "Fuck, no!", Skinny immediately defended herself. "But still, I think we can be nice to her." "I agree with Skinny," Skip spoke up, who had taken the seat next to Malarkey. "I think she's great. There's something about her - I don't know how to put it. She seems so proper somehow, but something tells me she's not at all."

"Oh, believe me, she's probably all wicked in bed," Liebgott said, laughing, and Skinny rolled her eyes. "Of course, that's what you're all about." "What? She's not ugly, after all. And if I have to look at you guys all day, why not at least imagine something beautiful? With that son of a bitch fucking up our goddamn weekends all the time by taking away our fucking passes, I haven't seen another woman in weeks, Skinny."

"And yet I don't think she'd get involved with you," Malarkey now grinned, causing Liebgott to throw a piece of bread at his head. "Oh yeah, and you think you have a better chance?" the latter shouted back. "Better than you, definitely!" "Well, I don't think either of you has a chance because our dear Victoria must have her eye on Lip," Skip now interfered again. "Now, what makes you think that?" asked Alley. "Well, because of the dance." "Nah, she explained that to us earlier, and it makes total sense," explained Skinny.

"Well, whatever. It still wouldn't be a good idea. Fraternization among soldiers is strictly forbidden, remember?" then Tip asked, and Joe rolled his eyes. "Meh, it might still be worth the risk if the soldier looks like her." Skinny eyed Joe. Even though he was rather a skinny man, he had already made a point or two with his looks. The idea that he could throw himself at Vic didn't appeal to Skinny. Maybe he just had to be faster now.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 7: The Boys Back Home

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's most valuable soldiers disappear?

Words: 2,135

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

Author's note: Hey everyone! Apologies for the delay with the chapter lol 🫠 This chapter is the point of view of the men in Bastogne!! Also, because this is my fanfiction and I can do whatever I want, there will be some soldiers who somehow survived their demise in previous episodes (Miller? Dukeman? PERHAPS) Anywho, thank you as always for reading and be on the lookout for Chapter 8! 🥰

"Luz!" Carwood cried over the last shell to drop. He watched the radioman dive into the foxhole - George met the same fate as the nine others who dropped into that hole, none of them came out. Lipton was astonished. At most, a foxhole could fit three of the men comfortably, perhaps four if needed. But ten men in one? Lipton should have seen a dog pile of olive drab stretching above the opening. Instead, he saw an empty hole in the ground. The First Sergeant blinked and rubbed his eyes, making sure what he saw was indeed reality. The foxhole stayed empty when he opened his eyes.

Lipton sprinted from where he was taking cover, desperately searching for Lieutenant Dike. He knew that Dike was the least preferable choice, especially in a situation like this, but the officers Lipton would have preferred to ask for help had disappeared. After an agonizing search mission, Lipton finally found the Lieutenant - Dike was absentmindedly strolling along, looking at the trees around him with a glassy, thousand-yard stare. “Lieutenant Dike!” Lipton called out, scrambling over tree roots and broken branches. Dike snapped back to reality, his posture automatically improving when he saw First Sergeant Lipton.

“What is it, First Sergeant?” Dike asked, trying to be authoritative. The yawn that followed his words worked against him. Carwood began to speak, but his words were caught in his throat… how in the world was he going to tell the lieutenant what just happened?

“Sir… we um…” Lipton tried to force the words out of his mouth.

“Spit it out, First Sergeant Lipton!” Dike ordered, irritation evident in his voice. Lipton paused, taking a breath before responding to the officer.

“Sir… several men are gone…”

“First Sergeant, this is war, we're going to have casualties every day.”

“Not like that sir, I mean… they've disappeared…”

Dike stared blankly at the NCO, wondering if he heard him right.

“Where did they go, Carwood?” Hearing Dike use his first name gave Lipton a feeling he could only describe as ick, but nevertheless, he continued.

“Sir, I saw ten men go into a foxhole, but when I reached them, the foxhole was empty.”

“And you’re sure you went to the right foxhole?” Lipton had to pause and take a breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.” In a flurry of urgency that Lipton had never seen from Dike before, the lieutenant had rounded up Compton, Peacock, Shames, Foley, and Welsh, as well as radioed to Colonel Sink. Lipton hastily repeated his experience to the officers, who were just as hesitant to believe Lipton as Dike was. 

“So they’re just… gone?” Harry asked, still skeptical.

“I wish I had more information for you sir, but all I saw was the men go into the foxhole and not come out,” Carwood replied, defeat evident in his voice.

“Shit…” Welsh muttered under his breath. The Irishman stared at the ground in front of him, wondering how he let two of his closest friends just disappear.

“So who all are we missing?” Buck interjected. He stood with his arms crossed, instinctively taking command of the conversation.

“Captains Winters and Nixon, Lieutenant Speirs, and then Roe, Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, Malarkey, and Randleman,” the NCO listed off the men he saw disappear, and prayed he would see again.

What Lipton did not see was Skip Muck quickly scrambling back to his foxhole. He had originally made his way to CP to ask Captain Winters a question, but when he overheard the discussion between Lipton and the officers, panic consumed the soldier’s thoughts. Muck all but fell into Penkala’s foxhole, unaware that he inadvertently elbowed his best friend in the face.

“HEY! What the fuck!?” Penkala yelped in surprise, his hands shooting to his cheek.

“Keep it down, Penk! I gotta tell you something,” Muck hushed the soldier, looking to make sure no one else was around. “I just heard Lipton telling Buck that we lost a bunch of men.”

“Like, to a sniper?”

“No, like they fucking disappeared.” Alex rolled his eyes, figuring Skip was just up to his usual mischief.

“Yeah, and I’m marrying Rita Hayworth.”

“Penk, I’m serious. Winters, Nixon, and a few others are gone and they have no fucking idea where they went.”

“Wait, what’d you say?” Muck and Penkala looked up to see that Shifty Powers had joined them in their foxhole. The rifleman looked at his two friends with shock and concern - how could the soldiers just disappear, especially vital officers like Winters and Nixon?

“He said we’re missing half the fucking company!” Penkala’s voice raised again, becoming more distressed by the minute.

“I said keep it down, you ass-hat!” Skip punctuated his interjection with a sharp whack to the back of Penkala’s head. “Look, we all know Dike isn’t gonna do shit. When Colonel Sink gets here, we need to back Lipton up and make sure Sink knows what’s happening.”

“I can go round up some of the other NCOs and tell them,” Shifty offered, gathering up his rifle to go find the rest of Easy Company’s leaders.

“Alright, we’ll come find you once Sink gets here,” Penkala replied before Shifty set off on his solo mission. Before long, the Virginian had gathered up Alley, Christianson, Grant, Martin, McClung, Perconte, Sisk, Talbert, Popeye, and Smokey Gordon. Of course, the trio of Hashey, Garcia, and Miller wanted to tag along as well - even if they did not have a leadership role, they wanted to help their company however they could.

“I really hope Bull’s okay…” Hashey muttered to no one in particular, crossing his arms to conserve the little warmth he had. “First he went missing in Holland, now we lose him in Bastogne…”

“Yeah, we need to keep a leash on him or something!” Miller snickered to his friends before Babe Heffron bumbled up to the group. The redhead resembled a baby horse learning to gallop as he jumped and weaved past tree roots and foxholes making his way to the group of soldiers.

“The fuck is this I hear about Gaurnere missing!?” Babe’s respirations were loud and labored as he attempted to catch his breath. Before anyone could respond, Lipton came across the group of soldiers all congregated near CP.

“Hey fellas, everyone doing all right?” Carwood asked nervously - he loved his men, but he knew they were up to no good if too many were in one place without a good reason.

“We heard about the men going missing,” Smokey replied, Mississippi accent thick in his words.

“We want to help, Lip, however we can,” Floyd Talbert added. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Smokey glancing a look of concern at his best friend. 

Lipton was about to express his gratitude to his company before Colonel Sink’s Jeep was seen pulling up beside the rest of the group. Lipton quickly went to grab the company’s officers as Sink nodded in thanks to his driver and stepped out of the car. With a loud, abrupt command to “Ten-Hut!” from Buck Compton, the gathered men snapped to attention and saluted the colonel, who offered a gentle salute in return.

“At ease men,” Sink instructed before turning to the officers, “I knew it was bad when I was getting a call from Dike.”

Lipton and Welsh needed to bite their cheeks to hide their amused smiles. “We’re not sure what to do, sir, or if anything can be done…” Buck replied to the colonel before taking a step back - the blonde gestured for Lipton to step up, an instruction to inform Sink of their predicament.

“Carwood, tell me exactly what you saw.” The rest of the gathered men leaned in as Sink spoke, anxious to understand what was happening.

“Ten men went into a foxhole while we were getting shelled, sir, but the foxhole was completely empty when I went to check on them afterward. There was absolutely no trace of anyone being in that foxhole, sir, and now we can’t find any of the men I saw go in.”

The older man nodded in understanding, silently processing Lipton’s words. “Who all went in?” The NCO repeated the names from earlier, ending with Captains Winters and Nixon. Sink simply looked down at the snow. “And you have no idea where the hell any of them went…”

“No sir,” Lipton replied quietly.

The colonel simply let out a sigh and shook his head, “I’m sorry boys, but since it was during a shelling and they were last seen going into a foxhole, the higher-ups probably aren’t going to authorize a search party,” he sent a determined look to the men, “I’m going to do everything I can to push the request through, but I better not hear of anyone taking matters into their own hands.” Before getting back into his Jeep, Sink turned to Lieutenant Dike, or rather, where Dike should have been. “And where the hell is Dike?”

“We don’t know, sir, we looked for him before you arrived but didn’t find him,” Welsh chimed in. Sink rubbed his forehead in irritation before turning to Buck and Welsh.

“All right, I’m making this an official order. Lieutenant Compton, if Dike isn’t to be found and a decision needs to be made, your company comes to you. Harry, you’re second in command. You kids do what you think is right. You’re good soldiers with smart heads on your shoulders.” Sink nodded to the officers and saluted the men before getting back in his Jeep and driving back to Regimental HQ - the poor man put his head in his hands, his most trusted officers were gone without a trace, and there was virtually nothing he could do to help them.

As if on cue, Dike returned to the company, “What are we all standing around for? We have a line to protect!” Dike crescendoed his voice to try and be more authoritative, but his efforts fell flat. Eyes rolled and voices groaned as the gathered men all dispersed and returned to their assigned duties - well, all except for Babe, Talbert, Smokey, McClung, Shifty, Alley, Grant, and Popeye. As everyone was trying to leave, Smokey grabbed the sleeve of whoever he could.

“Y’all, this isn’t right, we need to do something,” the machine gunner pleaded in a hushed tone.

“You heard Sink, though, there’s no way they’re gonna authorize a search party,” Moe replied, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Popeye took a beat before he chimed in, “...why do we need to wait for authorization?”

“Because only a general can authorize a search party,” Talbert answered the Virginian - while he did not agree with the policy at all, he knew that there was no getting around it.

“But didn’t Sink say that he left Buck and Welsh in charge if Dike isn’t around? They’re not the type to snitch,” Grant offered to the conversation, scrunching his shoulders up for warmth like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“Hell, they might be happy to help out,” Gordon affirmed the NCO. The men looked around at each other with uncertainty - what if Dike found out? Or Peacock? To be honest, it was probably worse for the latter officer to discover the plot. Thomas Peacock tries his best to be a good captain, but these efforts cause him to be rather heavy-handed with the rules. If Peacock were to hear of the plot to find the missing soldiers, he would surely either tell his superior officers or try to stop the soldiers himself.

“What if we get caught?” Shifty asked nervously - while he wanted to help his friends, the poor boy was nervous to hatch a plot like this.

“We can’t just do nothin’! We all know they’d do the same if it were any of us out there!” The man from Philly interjected, earning Babe a smack on the head from Grant.

“Where would we even start?” McClung asked the group.

“Well, best thing to do would be to investigate the foxhole and see if there are any clues,” everyone turned in shock to see Lipton returning to them. “I needed something from CP, and then I noticed all of you still over here, I figured you were up to no good,” the first sergeant said with a smile, earning him a loving slap on the back from Grant and Johnny Martin. The rest of the afternoon was about to be spent brainstorming, at least until one of the men needed to take their turn watching the line.

All of the men felt nervous, but especially Babe. Guarnere is his best friend, it would be one thing if Babe knew that he was wounded, even killed, but not knowing what happened to Bill was eating away at Babe worse than anything he had ever felt before.

~~~~~

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 (coming soon!)

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @easycompany123 , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @themysciraprincess , @xxluckystrike

Thank you so much as always for reading and stay tuned for Chapter 8! 😁

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! - Teaser (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hey guys, i'm Kate and i'm new to this tumblr business, but i love writing and i love band of brothers so here i am...here to write and make friends with people who are here to do the same! There...is definitely more of this to come...like forty or so pages already written...anyway please enjoy this teaser/snippet and let me know what you think!

I sit in class, writing notes as the lecturer goes over the powerpoint of the class. My head hurts and I need to get a proper sleep, but life goes on before I can catch up these days. After the class ends I pack up my books and laptop into my bag as the other students file out of the class. I move slowly in no rush to leave. I have nothing to do after this except for study, which has been the normal now for three years. I am nearly at the end of my Bachelor of Nursing, only having this last semester to go before sitting my State Exam and then going out into the world as a Registered Nurse. The thought scares me that in about 3 months I will be properly in charge of patients and making decisions about their welfare. I shudder at the thought as I stand to leave the class, I make my way down the empty hallways as this was the last class for the night. I walk out into the cold night my breath showing on the air, I pull my cardigan closer trying to trap the heat that escapes me, the thin material of my nursing uniform offers me little relief but in my defence it was warmer during the day as spring poked its head out from the clouds bringing a lighter vibe to the air, teasing summer. I make my way to the now empty car park where my little car sits lonely, I unlock the door and slide in, sighing as I settle into the seat, today has been a long day. I plug my phone into the AUX, turning up the volume as I sing my way home. I get out of the car gathering all of my belongings before locking the door behind me, I turn to walk towards the apartment when a shimmer catches my eye, I double take focusing my eyes on the shimmering in the distance, I tilt my head unsure of what I am looking at as I move toward it. 

A large surface glistens like oil in water, it’s transparent though I am able to see details behind it; it looks like looking through a bubble. I reach my hand out hesitantly as I get closer to the glare, my hand tingles like having pins and needles. The odd sensation makes me snatch my hand back and I look down at my fingers. Nothing seems to be wrong, they are normal in colour and no trauma seems to have occurred. I take a breath, reaching my hand out again, willing myself to be brave, my fingers stretch out stroking the transparent film. I gasp as my fingers disappear into the surface like putting my hand in a pool. I try to wretch my hand out of the shimmer but it pulls me further, as if someone is grabbing my hand and pulling me towards them. I panic gripping at my forearm to tug myself back, dropping my books and laptop as I do so. I disregard them, more worried about my limb being sucked into the glimmer. The force becomes stronger. I dig my heels into the ground but it is no use as I watch my whole arm has disappeared, my head frantically turning as I look for help. The force becomes stronger and my whole body is sucked through, I let out a yelp, my body rolls forward as I faceplant into the dirt. 

A cheering crowd walks the street, I quickly get to my feet before I am trampled. “What. The. Actual. Fuck!” I look around, people cheer, sing and dance through the street waving flags, they move them so fast I can’t seem to recognise what flag they are representing. I gaze around. It appears to be a small village, people are dressed in older fashion than I am used to seeing, this fashion style hasn’t been around since the 40’s. My heartbeat accelerates, where am I? Where did that weird shimmer thing take me? 

A lady close by laughs taking my hands in hers. She spins us around, I pull away and she says something in a foreign language. My heart skips several more beats, what do I know so far? I am in a foreign village and seem to be very far from home and some weird I guess portal thing spat me out here. My breathing quickens, I spin around searching for something, even I am not sure what will help anchor me to reality. I feel suffocated as people bump and jostle me, the loud singing and cheering is overwhelming my senses. I try to push through the crowd needing space to breathe and think. My eyes lock onto a tall man walking through the crowd dressed in army uniform, maybe he could help me? I push my way through the crowd reaching the soldier. I grab his arm clinging to him like a lifeline, he turns focusing his attention onto me. I notice the man has grenades strapped to his chest and a cigar hangs from his mouth.  

“Hello!” I say loudly trying to be heard over the crowd, a thought hits me, what if he doesn’t even speak english. I brush the thought to the side, I still need to try. 

“You’re American?” he asks, confused looking down at me. 

“Yes, I was just wondering…”

“You’re a nurse?” He asks again, taking in my appearance. 

“Yes, but…” I try again. 

“How did you get here so early?” He looks confused, taking his eyes off me he scans the crowd.

“What?” early?  

“Are there other field nurses with you?” he turns his attention back to me. 

“I’m sorry?” This interaction is going the complete opposite to what I intended. 

“Did you lose the other field nurses you came with?” He seems concerned, his eyes darting around the crowd again. 

“I didn’t come with anyone.” I say thinking back to how I stupidly put my hand into the unknown substance. What the hell is wrong with me why can’t I mind my own business. 

“Come with me, little lady.” before I can reply his big hand takes my upper arm moving me in front of him. The other hand rests on my shoulder as he steers me through the busy crowd, his firm grip is strong enough I cannot turn to look at him, to show my apprehension of being manoeuvred through the crowd to somewhere else unknown. 

-----------------------------------------

Chapter 2

[indigo-graves]

My Links ao3 wattpad ff.net

Soft | Roy Kent -ao3 -ff.net -wattpad

After | Roy Kent (One Shot) 18+ -ao3 -ff.net -wattpad

Softer | Roy Kent coming soon

This Dance | Joe Liebgott

This Dance Pt. 2 | Joe Liebgott 18+

Falling | Carwood Lipton 18+

Rusty | Lewis Nixon

Rusty pt. 2 | Lewis Nixon 18+

Curahee | Joe Toye

Warmth | Eugene Roe

[cchickki]

Chapter 12: Letters

chapter summary: Easy Company gets taken off the line and returns to England for a much needed break. As correspondence starts to come in, a letter Marie receives forces her to relive some dark moments from her past.

themes: eventual romance, slowburn, friendship/love

pairing: donald malarkey x oc / floyd talbert x oc

rating: T (for now) - TW: mentions of parental abuse (both physical and mental) and alcohol abuse

word count: 8.1k

author's note: I am so sorry that it's literally been YEARS since I updated! I felt bad to constantly be putting this on the backburner so much, and knew it's been needing a long awaited update. I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this because of my horrid and unpredictable update schedule, but if you've stuck around I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Next chapter is already being edited and should be up shortly after this one. I wanted to combine them originally, but the length of a single chapter and trying to keep the timelines in check was proving difficult.

Read here: (x) <---------------------------

Read original fic: (ff.net) (ao3)

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Just Come Home - Ronald Speirs x OFC

When Valerie Harmon finds herself alone and stranded in France following the Nazi invasion, she is sure her future is lost. But when a chance encounter brings her closer to Easy Company and a certain Captain, her life begins to rebuild itself anew. 

Just Come Home is now on AO3! 

[wexhappyxfew]

Landslide | Chapter 92 | Where The Enemy Once Stood

"There is no teacher but the enemy. No one but the enemy will tell you what the enemy is going to do. No one but the enemy will ever teach you how to destroy and conquer. Only the enemy shows you where you are weak."

- Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game

Natia spent more time than she wanted in the Eagles' Nest.

Sometimes, she just wanted to climb up to the top of the mountain and inhale some of the fresh mountain air and feel her muscles burn from the work it took to get up the mountain. Sometimes, it was because it was far quieter than down the mountain in the main area of Berchtesgaden and more often these days, she longed for some quietness. Sometimes, it was just because she wanted to stare at the mountains. Just sit and stare and listen to the wind blow overtop the mountains and down into the valley, hitting the trees and rustling their fresh summer leaves.

Today was because she was bored. Not that there wasn't plenty to do, but today, she had finished all the assignments Captain Speirs needed to have written up, some of the enlisted were already downing some bottles of wine and champagne they'd scrounged, and things for the most part were settled in.

Years ago, this would have bothered her. Being in a place such as this where the enemy once stood all alone with herself - of course, some of the officers were here and there were people in other rooms, but the great large room that served as the residential sitting room it seemed, remained in her occupancy. And she was all alone. She didn't mind being alone as much anymore.

[read the rest on AO3 + Wattpad]

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

hellloooo!!! long time no see! and i’m updating a consistent week later woooo!!! vv excited personally bc it’s been a bit since that’s happened lol! :) natia’s story continues to toss and term and trickle its way to its ending and this last big chunk of chapters are all just very satisfying to see posted bc it’s an ending idea i’ve had in my for at least a year now so, it’s very rewarding to see these get published! if you ever have any questions about the fic or natia, im always open, but in any case, thank you to everyone that reads, i really do appreciate it so much! and once again, happy reading! :)

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[mccall-muffin]

The things you don't know - Prologue // Carwood Lipton x OC

A/N: Okay, okay, okay, okay. I had kind of a flow. I wrote that little piece for my bestie, Dove, about the neglected Carwood Lipton and he had me hooked. So... An idea spread in that chaotic head of mine and here we are...

The prologue to my new Band of Brothers story, which is in the making right now!

Thanks to my two besties @liebgotts-lovergirl & @softguarnere for the help and the readthrough of chapter one!

I will start posting the story as of tomorrow, but here is the Prologue for you guys!

April 10, 1942 - Boston, Massachusetts, USA

"Jesus, I'd be so excited if I were you!", 20-year-old Victoria rejoiced for her brother. "This isn't a game, Tori; it's war, do you understand?" the latter asked, annoyed. "Of course I do. But at least you can do something of importance, not like me! I'm rotting away here in the city." "Why don't you join the Nurse Corps as Dad recommended? Remember how he used to tell us Mom did the same thing back in the great war?"

Tori rolled her eyes. Time and time again, her father was on her case that if she wanted to do something, she should train to be a nurse. "Yeah, but it's not the same! Being on the front lines and really doing something of significance, that's what I want." "You don't get it, do you?" her brother asked, looking at her with annoyance. "War is not a game! It's about something! People are dying!" Now it was Tori who rolled her eyes. "How stupid do you think I am?" "The way you're acting right now? Very stupid! Why don't you enjoy the safety you have here? War is not for women!"

Offended, Tori crossed her arms. "Yes, and I still wonder why? Why shouldn't a woman be able to do the same as a man?" she asked, overlooking the fact that her brother had bent over and grabbed her leg. With one movement, she was on the floor, and her brother was kneeling on her arms. "Hey!!! Let me go!" the blonde demanded, trying to free herself from her brother's grip.

"That's why!"

Her brother got off of her again, standing up and patting off the uniform he had been given. Tori also quickly jumped back to her feet. "Someday, I'll prove you wrong!"

"Come on, just give it up, sis!" "Never!" He rubbed his forehead in annoyance. "How can anyone be so damn stubborn?" "Runs in the family, I guess," Tori grumbled, pushing past her brother. Shaking his head, her brother stared after her.

April 11, 1942 - Boston, Massachusetts, USA

Her whole family was at the station to say goodbye to Tori's brother. Her mother, Martha, was built very close to the water, so she already took out the handkerchief. "Mom!" said Tori, annoyed, as she was already sniffling.

"Well then," her brother said, glancing briefly at the train. "I have to go." "Oh, my son," her mother sobbed, taking her youngest son in her arms. She kissed his cheeks and hugged him close, causing Tori to raise her eyebrows. She and her father almost had to tear her mother away from her brother. Then he said goodbye to her other brother and her two sisters.

And last to go was Tori's turn. Since she and her older brother are the youngest in the family, the two have always had the closest relationship. It was as if a bond linked them.

Tori looked at her brother, who also looked at her. Then he opened his arms, and she practically threw herself into his arms and pressed herself against him. Her eyes were also burning, and a few scattered tears were streaming down her face. "Take care of them, will you?" her brother whispered. Tori nodded into the crook of his arm. "Promise me you'll come back, okay?" she breathed, and he gently pushed her away from him to look at her. "I promise!"

Tori took a step back so her brother could still say goodbye to the dogs before grabbing his bag and walking toward the train door. Before he got on, he turned to wave again. Tori waved back and then put her hands over her heart.

"Take care of yourself, Sparky."

[wecomrades]

Chapter 33. White Blank Page

Wattpad - Ao3

Summary: Grace Whitehead, code name Hélène, has a 5 million-franc price on her head, but that doesn’t stop her commitment to SOE, Special Operations Executive. On D-Day, she parachutes into Normandy along with the leader of French Resistance and their radioman, to deliver intelligence to the Airborne. When the head of SOE tells her the Gestapo has raised the price on her head, the only way to let it die is by faking her death and going undercover with Easy Company. Will her knowledge as a spy and as a sniper help them through the entire war?

Hellooo! I hope you'll love this one just as much as I loved writing it ♥ so special to me. And... TWO CHAPTERS TO GO!

Thank you so much @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant for beta reading this as always, I’m so lucky to have your support ♥

If you fancy being on/off my taglist please just shoot me an ask or comment this post :)

@hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @gutsandgloryhere @sunnyshifty @wexhappyxfew @thoughpoppiesblow @embersjanuary @tvserie-s-world @pierrespandas @julianneday1701 @ask-you-what-sir @papersergeant-pencilsoldier @meadussa @alejodi0nysus​​ @rinadoesstuff @curraheewestandalone @rogue-sunday @sgtxliptons86

[potatosoldier]

Are you still there?

  /Part 7/

I am hot, I am sweaty, and I am crammed into a small cot surrounded by equally sweaty men. It was the 6th of September, and we had just boarded the Great Samaria a few hours ago. We were now on a journey to Europe. 

How they managed to jam us into this ship, I have no clue. It isn’t like there is 20 men over the capacity of this ship. No, this ship was made for 1000 passengers and now there were 5000 men from the 506th shoved in. I could have made the choice and went to the officers and made my stay there, I want to be near the men. 

“Joe, darling, your shoulders are like barn doors, I can’t fit”

Oh yes, as the passenger count was so high, the cots were shared by two soldiers. I was sharing with Joe. At first I also considered going to Skip, but then I came to a conclusion that I could stand Joe’s singing in this suppressed place, but listening to Skip talk non-stop would make me an irritable person. And I truly did not want to become that. These men are my companions and I want to treat the with the respect they deserve. I did not have the right to become rude even in these circumstances. 

Also, if I was put too high, Bull would have to carry me around like a baby monkey. 

“For God’s sake, just turn the other way”, Joe grunts as I try to maneuver myself without jostling the cot too much.  

“Joe, please move”, I whine and try to push him. He rasps and looks at me teasing smile on his lips. 

“you wanna continue trying, Bambi”, he teases. I scrunch my brows and pout. Why did he have to make this so difficult. Then I put on my most motherly glare. “Joseph Toye, this is not how you should behave”, I scold. 

He chuckles once again, but proceeds to move over so I’m finally able to fit in next to him on the cot. It was a tight squeeze, both of us were on top of the bed springs, but we tried to be so that it’s the least uncomfortable. Physically and mentally. 

“So you told Muck, huh?”, he whispers once we are in and he hears Skip talking while making his way around the ship. I nod as we both look at the cot above us. “You sure that was a good idea?”, he asks. I could hear in his voice that he didn’t doubt Skip personally, but he was just checking in. 

I smile. “He has been good to me since I came here, He won’t betray me now. And it does feel good to let it out”, I tell. He nods. 

“So, what do you think about going to Europe?”, he asks. I shrug. “I’m glad I’m here, maybe we can speed up the process of ending this war and Matias and dad can go back home”, I answer. Matias was my older brother. I think he is the reason I’m so fond of Skip and Luz, Matias was such a jokester too. It broke my heart to think of him out there somewhere, fighting for his life. 

“I’m glad we’re going to Europe too. Hitler gets one of these right across the windpipe, Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving to Joe Toye Day and 10,000 a year for the rest of my fucking life”, he says in a much louder voice. 

I look at him trying not to laugh. “Joe, I promise I’ll celebrate Joe Toye Day from now on even if you don’t succeed”, I manage to say without laughing. 

“What if we don’t get to Europe, what if they send us to North Africa”, Smokey points out from above us. 

The conversation doesn’t awfully concern me, till I hear these words: “ I like Winters, he is a good man. But when bullets start flying, I don’t know if I want a Quaker doing my fighting for me”

My head turns sharply up towards Bill’s bed. My blood starts running cold with the rage I’m feeling. He had the audacity to condemn someone by their religion and to add to that doubt MY husbands skills in combat. 

“How do you know he’s a Quaker?”

“He ain’t Catholic”

I’m about to jump up and teach the boy some manners when, Joe apparently notices my open mouth and shoves my head under a blanket. And by shoving, I mean shoving. Nothing gentle about it. I can only imagine the looks people are throwing at us. 

“Okay Bambi up we go” he then says and starts lifting me up, my head still covered. I can hear Liebgott and Bill still having a spat and am about to turn to go towards the noise, but Joe keeps me covered till we are away from the scene.

“You need some fresh air, you angry hedgehog, to he deck we go”, Joe says and pushes people around to make us way forward. He really saved me from making a mistake. 

With Richard

The Boat was far from comfortable, that was the only thing Richard Winters would say to the circumstances at hand. Last time he had been this hot, was while running in full gear in Toccoa. 

“They really filled this Troop ship to the brink”, Lewis says looking just as sweaty as his friend. “If I’m going to be this hot, I’d rather have 5000 ladies here. At least there would be something to look at”, Nix says. 

“Yeah, and by the time you’d make it to your destination they’d have eaten you alive, after finding out about Kathy”, Dick teases. Keeping your mind light in situations like this was the key to keeping your head together. His friend had his own lightness hidden in Dick’s footlocker. 

Lewis let’s out his trademark chuckle. “Easy for you to say”, he snarks back. Dick knows exactly what he means. It was easy for Dick to judge other men for seeking affection because his own wife was there. 

Dick only looks at his friend with a dry look and they remain silent for a while. 

“Never thought this day would actually come, of course I knew it was coming, but hell we’ve come a long way”, Nix says and takes a swig from his flask. Dick lets out a small huff. It really was a miracle that Sobel hadn’t found some way to get rid off them. 

“You think we can make it Nix, back home I mean”, Dick asks thoughtfully and plays with his fingers. It was a curious question, not one of sadness or fear. 

“That’s not for us to decide, but hey I’ll drink to the thought of seeing your children some day”; he says raising his flask in what was supposed to be a happy remark, but when he sees Dick’s face, all the happiness goes away. 

He furrows his brows and looks at his friend more closely. “You okay Dick?”, he asks while still studying his now pale friend. Dick just continues looking ahead like he was not there at all. 

“Yeah, Nix, I’m okay”, he finally whispers and they drop the topic replacing it  with silence. 

Sonja / Day 3 on the Samaria/

“Better out than in, there we go”, George says as he brushes some of my hair back. I had been throwing up for the last two hours. I wasn’t sure was it the sea or the smell of the fish soup that made me so nauseous. 

“I fe- ugh”, I puke again in the middle of my sentence. I was not the only one throwing up, no. But I felt very embarrassed to be in this situation. I was a nurse, not a patient. 

Suddenly a pounding of boots is heard and I feel someone place themselves on the other side of me. “There we go, a Hershey bar for the lady. Got it from Winters, tried scrounging and he was kind enough to offer when he passed”, Skip says as he opens the wrapper for me. 

And what I can take from his story is that, that he went to tell Richard I’m unwell and Richard gave him the bar. 

“Thank you”, I whisper and take the piece Skip snaps me. Luz takes the bucket from my hands and gives water to rinse my mouth.  “For a small lady, you sure puke your guts out like a grown man”, Luz teases. 

“Shut up, I’m only three inches shorter than you”, I grumble and lean against him while savoring the chocolate to get the taste of vomit out. He only chuckles and makes a mocking “UGH” noise. 

“Thank you boys for getting me out, I thought Joe was going to kill me”,I giggle softly. They both huff in laughter. “I mean you did puke on his chest”, Skip points out. I grimace, that I sure did. His chest and neck where running with fish soup after I retched on him. 

“Someone get her a bucket, fucking hell, if someone isn’t gonna help her, Imma kill every fucking one of you”

“Skip, go get us some cards, I don’t think she can handle the sweat level yet”, George says as he strokes my back, as I gag again a little. 

How long was I going to be stuck on this boat.

----------------------

The night was awful, I felt sickly and I noticed that Joe was turning more than usual, probably because of the back pain. We were lucky enough to fit on the cot so that we could both sleep in it, but nothing seemed to get me catch sleep. I was afraid of throwing up again. 

“Nurse”, I hear a whisper. I jump and look up. Even in the dim lighting I can recognize my husband. I carefully stand without jostling Joe too much, and gently put the blanket on him again, after raising it up a little to get a little cool air on him. 

“Yes sir?”,I ask professionally as I stand before Richard. He just nods his head towards the deck. 

As we make it to the deck we quickly and quietly find a corner with no one sleeping in it. He takes a look around and has a seat. Before taking something out from his pocket: chocolate.

“Richard, you don’t have a sweet tooth, how do you have all these”;I ask looking at him oddly. 

“I got this from Nix, he was willing to sacrifice it for I quote ‘holy business’“, I giggle at my husbands expression as he quotes Lewis. I take the bar from him and put it next to me. I honestly felt too sickly to eat it now. 

I look at Dick biting my lip. He seems to notice the softness in my gaze as he utters a gentle “come here”, and gently guides me to lay my upper body onto his legs. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I can keep watch, and if they ask more, I can say that I was just looking out for you as your officer”, he soothes and rubs his hand along my arms. Which feels amazing on my sore muscles. 

“I think it’s time to tell the men soon anyway. They need to get used to the idea before we jump, and I think that they know you well enough to not judge you”, he then brings up. I nod against his leg, this living in secrecy was starting to become more and more difficult. 

I then squeeze my eyes shut as nausea takes over me. “Richie I think I might puke”,I whimper. I always got very stressed when I had nausea, and sensitive. “I don’t wanna puke on you”,I say and try to rise, but in all honestly rising just made it worse.

Richard guides me back gently. “If you puke on me, then you do. Don’t worry about that. Let’s just get you comfortable”

----------------------

On the 15th of September we finally made it to Liverpool. I was still quite pale after the ride. Eating had really become a task, and without food, you lose strength. But with the threats from Joe and gentle urging from Carwood Lipton, I was able to get food down. 

“You feelin’ good ma’am?”, comes a familiar Arkansas drawl as I give a happy sigh to be on the steady ground. I chuckle “Aye, sir, better than ever”, I say teasingly. He mock salutes me and we start walking for our shelter for the night. 

I walk on Joe’s side keeping a firm hold of his sleeve as I had been told by Lip.

“We don’t want you getting lost, you are harder to find than most of us”

At first I had wanted to tell him that I am a grown woman with military training, but his truly caring gaze changed my plans.  If I could express in words, how thankful I was for that mans care I would shout it at his too humble face. Okay, these boys are really rubbing off on me, I wouldn’t shout, maybe gently lecture. 

Tomorrow we would be going to our final destination. 

-------------------

Aldbourne was vastly different from all the places I’ve had my training and from what the men told me, it was also very different to them. We were in the middle of a village! We could actually see other people. 

“Come on Sonja, please, please please”, Skip was begging on his knees. We had gotten our passes to go to Swindon for a Saturday night dance this weekend. The boys were all excited about being able to go and actually getting the passes this time. 

“Skip, you know I get uncomfortable with many people, also it’ll be nice to have some time alone”, I try to reason as he keeps pushing my skirt and blouse towards my hands. 

He looks at me with his green puppy eyes. “please, Bambi, for me, Joe is coming too. Aren’t you? Hear that Joe is there too”, he begs. I sigh and look at both of them. 

“Okay, but when I say want to come back, I will”, I say pointing at him. 

“Yes!!”

-------------------

I didn’t put on my skirt and blouse, instead I took out my light blue swing dress and let my hair down. It was nice to feel girly again, and actually have a reason to get dolled up. That was not the best part, the best part was actually putting my wedding ring onto my finger. I gave a small kiss to my cross and said a little prayer of gratitude before going to the boys. 

The boys were happy to have me, their lady with them. 

“Your husband is one lucky bastard”. George had said when he saw me. Bull had even blushed when I gave him a kiss on the cheek as thanks for helping me with my jacket. 

All the girls in the dance were dolled up too. I found the music in there absolutely delightful. It might have not been completely in my taste, but I appreciate it nonetheless. Also the sound of shoes clapping against the floor was beautifully relaxing. 

“Would my lady like to dance?”, Skip asks bowing at the waste. I shake my head at his antics but take his hand none the less. And boy did I make a mistake. I was tosses from Skip to George, to Bull, to Joe, to Don (who mind you, was an excellent dancer!) and god knows who. The Easy boys really decided to hit the floor. 

Once I was able to make a run from them, I found Joe drinking a beer at one of the tables. “You having fun?”; he asks and takes a long sip. I nod and smile widely. 

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been able to dance so much! But I do wonder”, I bite my lip. “Am I a bad person to be here, without Richard?”; I whisper. 

Joe shakes his head. “You’re too good for this world. There ain’t nothing wrong with you being here. He trusts you and you trust him. And hell, you were giggling like a school girl when you realized you still had time to go to him after this. You aren’t committing any sin”, he soothes with a little teasing making me blush. 

Who can blame me, I just want to grab my Robert Burns poems and go read with Richards head on my lap. Was that really too much to ask for? He was my husband.

We continue our conversation, with me sipping a cup of water, until I hear a similar interruption as in the boat. 

Bill and Skinny make it to our table chatting. “He might be a good man, but Quakers aren’t meant for this shit” My patience had been running thin with these comments for so long and now my patience was all run out.

“He is not a Quaker”, I snap. Bill turns to me with an odd look on his face. 

“And how do you know that Bambi”, many of the Easy men were now near our table from hearing my raised voice. 

I don’t know what made it come out of my mouth, but this did anyway: “If my husband was a Quaker I think I’d be the one who knows that and not you”

I quickly realize what I said and plant my palm against my face, trying to remember how to breathe. I hear Joe sigh from next to me: “Well, now you fucking said it”

@iilovemusic12us​

@georgeparisole​

[indigosandviolets]

Risky Buisness

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x OC x George Luz

Summary: Andrew stitches up Liebgott after Alley is shot. They talk about risks, and after a battle they’re asked to take back some Germans.

Word Count: 2,607

Warnings: Flashbacks, gore, yelling in German

Part Ten of We Happy Few

-

Andrew was barely awake when the dog came up to lick his face, soaking him in its slobber and spit. He had just woken up from a nap (he and Babe were taking shifts) when Trigger came up to him, sitting down beside him and laying his head in Andrew’s lap after he was finished attacking Andrew’s face.

“Hey, Talbert,” Andrew says. “Why does your dog like me so much?”

“Likes his own kind, I guess,” Talbert replies.

“Funny, Tab,” Andrew says, petting the dog’s head. Trigger was a good dog, good moral for the company even though it was just there for the night and not all of the company could see it.

Good moral, that is, until Liebgott brought in Alley.

Everyone was on their feet and around the table, trying to figure out what they could do to help. Alley had been hit in the neck. He and Lieb were on patrol when it happened.

“How’d he get hit?” Lipton asked Liebgott while he ordered everyone around.

“Sniper,” Lieb answered.

“Get Roe!” Lipton shouted before looking at Alley. “It’s okay, you’re gonna be just fine.”

He didn’t respond, though. The blood pooling around his mouth as he bled didn’t leave any indication of him making it.

Andrew ran around, getting everything he could for Roe as he orders him to and trying to figure out how to help Alley when he saw the dark red at Liebgott’s own neck.

“Lieb, Lieb!” Andrew said, “You’ve been hit, what the hell are you doing?”

“It’s not that bad, I’ll make it.”

“You’re injured, dammit-”

“I can still do my job!”

“Joseph D. Liebgott, sit your ass down and let me help you,” Andrew says, sterner than he had ever been before. “Roe and Lipton and Talbert got Alley and I don’t know if you know this but you’re not gonna be able to do your job much longer if you fuck up your neck anymore.”

Liebgott, ever hard-headed, complies. He steps back and sits on one of the piles of hay in the barn. He takes off his jacket, but Andrew still can’t see exactly where he was hit, so he motions for Lieb to take off his shirt as well.

If there’s one thing the army couldn’t do, it was bulk up Joseph Liebgott. He was as skinny as ever, but Andrew knew he was strong. He always had been.

Andrew starts to clean up the blood from the injury, and as he does so, Lieb looks away from him, almost as though he’s ashamed of getting hit. Andrew continues to clean, and Lieb winces, making Andrew stop.

Blood. So much blood and his helmet’s gone and he’s just a kid-

“You alright?”

“Just keep going.”

Andrew had to admit, he didn’t know much about first aid. He was no Doc Roe -- but he could at least somewhat stop it from getting infected.

He’s just a kid and you’ve killed him. You’ve utterly killed him-

“How long ago were you hit?”

Liebgott halfway shrugged. “I dunno, maybe five, ten minutes ago?”

Andrew looked at the wound, trying to see the bullet through the metallic red liquid. “You got hit in a pretty tricky spot.”

“Least I get to keep that spot.”

“Are you gonna bring up every damn time I got shot?”

“Maybe.”

“You know, even when you’re injured, you’re still a sassy bitch.”

“I prefer panache.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I thought the word was chutzpah.”

Liebgott winces as Andrew finds where the bullet is. It’s not very deep, but Andrew still needs to get it out. He looks around, unable to find the tweezers, or plyers, or whatever the hell Roe used.

“Just take it out with your hand, Andrew.”

“Lieb, you know-”

“Just do it.”

Andrew sighed, and looked into Liebgott’s eyes. He didn’t want to hurt him, he couldn’t bear causing him any more pain than he needed to. He looks around, trying to find a piece of cloth. He goes over to Talbert’s stuff, finding a bandana that he had planned to put on Trigger. He whipped the fabric, making it into a tight role before returning to Liebgott.

“Bite this,” He says, and Liebgott complies, taking the folded fabric in one hand. “We used your syrettes on Alley and I don’t want you biting your tongue off.”

Then, Andrew takes in a deep breath before moving his fingers inside of Liebgott’s skin. He’s taking spare glances to look at Lieb. Every second his hand is trying to find the bullet, the worse Liebgott looks, so he has to look away to continue working.

The only way to describe the bullet was a bitch. Only a part of the bullet was actually in Liebgott’s skin, so Andrew had to hope that he had gotten all of it out.

“Done,” Andrew says, and Lieb spits out the torn fabric.

“Fucking hell,” Liebgott replies, looking back at Andrew. “All that shit for nothing?”

“It’s not nothing, Lieb, it was still in your skin. I know I’m not a medic, but that wasn’t nothing.”

Andrew takes the bandana and cleans his hands with it as best he could before wiping off the rest on his pants. He gets out the gauze and bandages, moving to stop the bleeding. It’s not the best work, but as he ties the bandage Liebgott winces as he moves to put his shirt and jacket back on.

Andrew sighs, sitting down beside Liebgott. They’ve already moved Alley to a Jeep, and they’re alone.

“Damn, we could’ve gotten you to an actual medic, Lieb,” Andrew says after a while. “Now we’ve been left to hold down the fort. Talbert even took the damn dog, too.”

Liebgott shrugs. “I don’t think I’d want anyone other than Roe or you working on me.”

“So you’d trust me, someone with no medical experience, over a trained and certified medic who you didn’t know?”

“Course I do. You weren’t promoted for nothing.”

“I wasn’t exactly promoted for keeping people alive.”

Liebgott looks over at Andrew’s hands. “You’ve still got blood on you.”

“It’s not the worst thing that could happen.”

“How could it be worse?”

“Well,” Andrew says putting his hands together. “It’s your blood, right? Your blood is on my hands, and you’re alive. Now, your blood could be on my hands, but you could also be dead. That’s how it could be worse.”

“I’m not gonna die, Drew,” Liebgott tells him. “We made a promise, remember?”

“Yeah, and over the course of that promise, we’ve both been shot.”

“If I remember correctly, we made that promise because you got shot.”

Andrew chuckles. “We did.”

“And we’ve both held up to it, haven’t we?”

“We have.”

“So,” Liebgott says, moving to look at Andrew. “We’re good.”

“That we are.”

“And we’re alone.”

“That we are.”

Andrew smiled at Liebgott. Even in a barn in the middle of Nazi-land, with both of them bloody as could be, they were still able to have a good conversation, and still feel that spark. He leaned over, placing a soft kiss and Liebgott’s lips, and for the first time, there was an equally soft reciprocation. Probably because of the injury.

Andrew pulled away to see Liebgott’s classic smile.

“We gotta stop doin’ that in public places, Drew,” Liebgott says. “Makes people suspicious.”

Andrew sighed. “I know, I know. I like it, though. Makes things a little riskier.”

“We’re fighting a damn war, Drew, it’s supposed to be risky.”

-

Andrew had never been one to fix his bayonet. Everyone knew you didn’t shoot as straight with it on, but with Winters being the one to implement it, it was clear that they were going to get very personal with the Germans, and very fast at that.

The cover of red smoke was always a cover that Andrew thought was the most counter-effective that the army could have given them, but then again, he literally jumped into combat with his ribs wrapped up in the tightest binding he could manage.

Waiting for Winter’s signal only took a few seconds, but it lasted an eternity. That is, of course, until Andrew realized he was running and three Germans were standing in front of him, their hands up as they yelled at him, but he couldn’t understand.

He stared at them, not taking away his gun. He searched for a fragment of something, maybe a “don’t” or “please”, but he didn’t hear it. So, he shot them all instead.

I killed him, Luz! I killed him in cold blood! He’s just a kid and I fucking killed him!

Andrew shook his head, moving on. He had to admit, he had a killer aim. He hated it. He was injured during the D-Day Operations in Carentan and wasn’t able to help out for any of it, but here he was, with even better aim than before he got injured. It didn’t make any sense.

He wasn’t even going to shoot! He had no idea I existed and I fucking killed him!

Andrew wasn’t sure how he had gotten through that day. His brain kept returning to D-Day, in the dark, in the forest with Luz and the two German soldiers. He couldn’t stop it, it just kept happening. Every time he saw a German’s face, he saw the kid -- blood streaming from his mouth, his eyes twitching for a moment before going glassy. For a moment, he thought that he was the kid, about to die as the person who shot him stood above his body.

Andrew had always assumed that death was a gentle thing. That’s how it was with Uncle Andy. The way he had described the war, he just talked of his buddies and men in his company dying, like they had fallen asleep. Uncle Andy never talked about the screams, or the blood or the flying bullets or the exploding mortars or the fact that you absolutely cannot mourn or be scared of death because when you’re scared, you’ll die, just like your buddies. You can’t be scared of death or it will happen, no matter how long you try to delay it. You can’t be scared of death, because death doesn’t kill you, it just finishes the job, which means you have to be scared of whatever decides to kill you, be it a bullet or a knife or a mortar or a German’s bare hands.

Andrew hadn’t noticed how much he had been thinking until he heard Winters.

“Joe, Joe!”

Andrew hadn’t noticed he had been sitting beside Liebgott until Liebgott replied to the Lieutenant. “Dammit, what?”

Andrew turned, seeing what Liebgott had been firing at. The fighting had stopped a little while ago, and Lieb had been lazily picking off one of the Germans, who just refused to die.

Andrew noticed his body getting up before he had even looked away from the Germans. It didn’t even feel like his own body. He walked with Winters and Liebgott and watched as Winters took Liebgott’s gun and dropped it down to one shot.

“You’ve got one shot, and eleven men. If you drop one of them, the rest will jump you,” WInters says before turning to Andrew. “Marin, I’m only letting you keep your gun because I trust you a whole hell of a lot better than I trust him.”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” Andrew asks.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t shooting at German prisoners, now were you?”

“No, sir, I wasn’t.”

Winters looks back at Liebgott. “Don’t drop ‘em,” He says before handing Liebgott’s gun back, stepping aside as Liebgott turns to the Germans.

“Lass uns gehen, aufstehen,” Liebgott announces to them, and some of the Germans get up. “Steh auf, komm schon!” The rest of the men get up. “Hände hinter dem Kopf, lass uns gehen.”

Andrew walks beside Liebgott as they start to march the men back to headquarters, about three miles down the road.

“You're bleeding,” Andrew says after a while. “I think you might need stitches.”

“What an astute observation, Drew,” Liebgott replies, bitter. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”

It has a weird sense of being funny, that short snippet of conversation. “Lieb, you can’t be upset over what Winters did-”

“I signed up for this war to kill Germans, Drew, and you did too,” Liebgott cuts him off. “We didn’t sign up to keep these fuckers alive.”

“I’m not happy about it either, alright?” Andrew says. “You know I’m with you on killing Germans, I always have been. The only reason why I’m keeping these fuckers alive is that I don’t want Winters to demote me and I don’t want to commit war crimes.”

“Spiers did it.”

“I’m pretty sure that Spiers is a sadist,” Andrew tells him. “And Spiers is in a different company. I’m pretty sure the only reason he got away with it is that it was D-Day.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw one of the Germans start to put his hands down, away from his head. “Hey!” He called out, walking up to the prisoner. “Lieb, what was the word again?”

“Hände hoch.”

Andrew brought his gun p to the prisoner. “Hände hoch, mother fucker!”

The prisoner complied, body shaking with fear. “N-nicht schiessen!” It was the same thing the kraut was saying on D-Day.

“Shut the fuck up!” Andrew says, but the kraut doesn’t stop. He’s almost weeping.

“Andrew!” Liebgott called out.

“Dammit, Lieb, what?” Andrew says, turning around.

“You’re gonna scare him to death before you even have the chance to shoot him.”

“He’s not following orders, Lieb!”

“For fuck’s sake, just calm down, will you?” Liebgott says. He ordered the Germans to keep marching as Andrew walked back to him. “He just put his hands down.”

“If we were their prisoners, we would have been shot on sight and you know that.”

Liebgott looks at Andrew, almost incredulously. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

And then Andrew can’t stop thinking about Normandy. The two Germans. He can’t stop, it’s just too much. He’s changed so much from that night. The Andrew then wouldn’t have cared if the German had put his hands down. The Andrew then wouldn’t be shouting at a prisoner with a gun pointed at him.

“Andrew?”

Andrew looks back at Liebgott. “I don’t know,” He chokes out. It’s almost a whisper. “I...I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I can’t stop thinking about the kid.”

“Andrew, what the hell are you talking about?”

“The kid I shot in Normandy,” Andrew says. “The soldier. I can’t stop. He’s...he’s all I can think about. I killed a kid, Lieb, how the hell does Mr. Eisenhower expect me to live with myself after that?”

“Andrew-”

“He saw me kill him. He saw my face as he died. I was the last thing that kid ever saw. He probably wanted his mother and father, but all he got was me.”

Liebgott, for one of the first times, looked like he didn’t know what to say. Andrew was surprised he was able to keep the German prisoners in check as they marched them, but then again, none of them knew English. Or, if they did, they were keeping it to themselves.

Upon dropping the prisoners off, Andrew knew that Liebgott had seen a side of him that he had never planned to show. It was one of a few sides like that, but Liebgott had now seen him like that, seen his guilt, and he already knew one of his worst secrets.

Maybe it’s time he learned the rest.

-

tag list: @alienoresimagines @fromcrossroadstoking @easyroses if you want to be added, please let me know!

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Band of Brothers Masterlist

*note: based only on the show interpretations/actors not the real individuals*

Key: 🥰 = fluff

😢 = angst

Joe Liebgott x Reader

Chocolate Kisses 🥰

Cold As Ice 🥰

Time Enough 😢🥰

George Luz x Reader

A Quiet Life 🥰

Joe Toye x Reader

Diner Date 🥰

Patience 🥰

Ron Speirs x Reader

Maybe not so one-sided 😢🥰

And Just Like That 😢🥰

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Not About Deserve 😢🥰

No one I’d rather be with 🥰

Carwood Lipton x Reader

Early Mornings 🥰

The Long Road to You (George Luz x OC and Joe Toye x OC)

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Just Come Home - Ronald Speirs x OFC - Chapter 12

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11

Warnings: Death

Tags: @50svibes @cagzzz107 @yentroucnagol @mads-weasley @mrsalwayswrite

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: It's time for this story to come to an end! I can't thank everyone enough for reading and supporting this fic - it's been a labour of love and I'm so grateful for all of you <3

-

They were married in July of 1946. Ron returned from Europe a month earlier after Valerie had spent two weeks straight writing him the same letter every day.

Dear Ron

Come home now or I'm getting a pre-emptive divorce.

Love, Valerie

He informed her when he arrived home that he had already set sail across the Atlantic when her letter-writing campaign began, so he never actually received any of them, and had to write back to base and apologise for the inevitable confusion to anyone who actually read them.

An hour before the wedding began, Ron slipped into Valerie's dressing room, and once he'd calmed her down - for she insisted he wasn't to see her before the ceremony - he actually got a good look at her in her dress and immediately burst into tears.

"Oh, Christ," She laughed, pulling him into a hug as he wept. "Don't get tear stains on my dress, honey."

"You look beautiful," He sniffed loudly, stepping back to get another look at her. "Don't tell the Company boys I cried."

Val's brow quirked. "I'm gonna tell 'em."

"Yeah, I know."

She wore her mother's old wedding dress, which they had spent hours at a seamstress trying to make more fashionable - taking it in at the waist, fixing the shoulders, shortening the hem. Her parents had also cried when they saw her, and despite her intense joy upon the day, Valerie remained the only dry-eyed one out of the four of them. It wasn't a large ceremony - largely populated by the men of Easy Company who lived close enough to make it, and a few of Valerie's high school friends she'd reconnected with whilst Ron was away. Her only bridesmaid was her mother, who took her hand as she and her father reached the end of the aisle, and discreetly slipped her a tissue to give to Ron, who continued to fight tears throughout the ceremony.

-

The week after the wedding they caught a plane to California and rented a house by the beach just outside San Francisco. For a family so rich, the holiday made a point of being un-extravagant. Valerie cooked dinner, Ron did the dishes, and she revelled in all of the menial tasks she's grown so fond of back in Europe. Her parents still preferred she utilise the house staff, although she was figuring out ways of getting around it, and Ron had promised to let her do her own chores despite being certain she'd tire of them soon, just like everybody else did.

Nevertheless, two weeks into their three-week getaway, Val showed no signs of slowing down as she stood out on the back patio in her swimsuit, sunglasses shielding her eyes from the blazing sun as she pinned up some freshly washed sheets to dry. Ron stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest as he watched on with a smile.

"What are you doing over there?" She called over her shoulder.

He grinned, lifting a hand to shield himself from the sun. "Can't I just appreciate my wife in her swimsuit?"

"Oh, stop," Val laughed, limply tossing a clothes peg in his direction. "If you come over and help you can see it up close." She teased.

"Yes ma'am."

They had dinner with the Grant family every Wednesday they were there. He played off his injuries as if they were nothing, but Valerie could tell his mother didn't like it from the way she'd try to reach out to him whenever he moved too quickly or stumbled slightly. There was a scar across the side of his head - although hair was starting to grow over it and make it less noticeable - and occasionally he would falter over his words when speaking, making his youngest sister frown, her resemblance to him startling Val when they first met.

"'M not surprised you two got hitched. If anything, I'm surprised you didn't do it sooner," Chuck told her after dinner, sitting back on the couch with a beer in the hand of his good arm. She could hear the low murmur of Ron's voice from the next room as he stepped in to help Mrs Grant tidy things away.

"You are happy, aren't you?" Valerie asked, twiddling with her fingers as she sat beside him.

"Me? Yeah, I'm happy. These last few months since I've gotten out of hospital for good have been nice. It's just good to sleep in your old bed again, yunno?"

"Yeah, I get it."

"Plus," He began to smirk, gesturing at her with the rim of his bottle. "Women these days love battle scars, and I've got the nastiest one for ten blocks."

Valerie laughed, taking a sip of her own beer. "So you've got a girlfriend?"

Grant chuckled, talking around the bottle as he put it to his lips. "I didn't say that. I'm lookin' after my sisters - when they've settled, maybe."

He had two sisters, both with the same bright eyes and strong features that she'd become so accustomed to seeing in him. They were nice girls, and Valerie was very fond of them despite having only met them a couple of times. The eldest of the two, Audrey, loved books almost as much as she did, and the younger - Diana - had her brother's uncanny ability to make her laugh.

"They're good kids," Val smiled. "You've done a good job."

"Thanks," The corner of his mouth tilted upwards. "So, what're you gonna do now?"

She shrugged, tipping the bottle up to her lips. "Oh, I dunno."

He grinned. "It's nice not knowing, isn't it? We've got the whole rest of our lives left to do whatever the hell we want."

"Yeah," Val nodded, mirroring his expression. "It's pretty good."

-

1955

Afternoon sun streaked through the patio windows in long yellow beams, shining off the blue roof. A little wooden dinghy bobbed up and down at the end of the jetty, rippling in the waters of Lake Michigan. Ron was out on the sands below, his voice muffled by the constant sloshing of waves, a little girl firmly attached to his leg - her chubby arms wrapped around his thigh, her little feet perched on the top of his shoe as she was rocked side to side as he walked, her shrill laugh the only sound that could be heard from up on the patio as the wind blew her hair into her eyes.

Valerie perched in one of the deckchairs by the house, the infant in her lap fiddling with the pleats of her skirt and babbling away to himself as she gently bounced him on her knee. She looked down upon feeling something hit her foot, and noticed a single grape rolling across the patio before being picked up and carried off by a bird. "Uh oh," The child murmured, saying one of the only phrases he knew how to before shoving his whole hand in his mouth.

"George," She gently chided, tugging his fingers out from between his gums before handing him another grape, which the boy ate eagerly. She could hear her daughter squealing down on the shore, the satin ribbon in her hair reflecting the sun as Ron hauled her up into his arms, laughing as her little hands squished at his cheeks.

Val liked to sit here out on the patio after the children went to bed, watching as the line between the shore and the sand blurred as it got darker and the sun disappeared into the water, the lake stretching out far beyond the visible horizon.

When she had been eighteen, falling in love for the first time in a brand new country, she'd sometimes caught herself imagining a future like this - kissing her babies goodnight, tucking them in, settling down to rest beside her husband, watching the sun go down every night surrounded by people she loved. When Leo had died, the dream had died with him. Ideas for a future she never had time to realise, bleeding out in the middle of the street as his last breath left his body. In all those years she'd spent in between, she hadn't let herself consider a future where she was happy, where she was safe and calm and warm and loved. Entertaining the idea had felt like torture, as if she were toying with herself, dangling a future in front of her eyes that could never be hers.

But now it was. Every now and then she would look around and become suddenly aware that she had the future she'd wished for herself as a girl, and even the most mundane things would seem an achievement. Val would never know what her future with Leo would've looked like. She would never know if they would've settled down in Paris or somewhere in the French countryside - how many children they may have had, what they might have looked like, what she might have called them. But she didn't think about it anymore. To think of marrying a man who wasn't Ron, to think of having children that weren't the ones she had right in front of her - it felt like a betrayal. It wasn't the life she wanted.

George began to gurgle dissatisfiedly, reaching out with his fat little fingers towards where the others played on the beach, squirming in Valerie's lap until she picked him up, holding him against her waist with one arm as they headed down the slope towards the shore. He began to babble cheerily as they caught up to Ron, who turned with a smile.

"Well, hello sir," Ron greeted as the child reached up to grab onto the collar of his shirt. Val grinned as George tried to squeeze his way out of her grip. Ron put down their daughter, prying the infant out of her arms as Lizzie buried her face in her mother's skirts.

She held onto Valerie's hand as they wandered down to the edge of the water, and Val took off her shoes, the cold waves washing over her feet as she sat down in the sand, chuckling as the little girl tried to jump over the water as is rolled in and out along the shore.

"Mama?" She chirped.

"Yeah, honey?" Val said, reaching up to tuck some hair behind Lizzie's ear. Her hair was just as dark as her father's, and at 4 she had already developed his discerning frown.

"Why can't we go with papa when he goes away?"

She took a deep breath, letting out a sigh. "When you get a little bigger, I promise I'll explain it all to you. But... it's better for me to stay home, and you know I couldn't stay here without you because you're my favourite person in the world."

Lizzie stood between Val's legs, her pudgy hands propped up on her mother's knees. "And Georgie?"

"Of course, Georgie," She grinned, tickling the little girl's tummy until she giggled. "You and Georgie and Papa. I love you all very much."

"And Grandma?"

"Yes, of course."

"I like grandma," Lizzie mused. "She gives me candy."

Valerie chuckled, folding her wet feet under her thighs and pulling the little girl into her lap, the hem of her skirt going damp and brown in the sand. She rested her cheek against Lizzie's hair, breathing slowly in and out as she took it all in. She couldn't imagine it getting better than this.

-

And so life just... continued. There was no climactic end to Valerie's story, in just the same way as there isn't for anyone else. Life goes on until it doesn't. They visited California when Chuck's sisters got married. When Lipton had his first son, she cradled a crying George in the back pew of the church at the Christening. Valerie's mother moved in after her father died, and lived with them on Lake Michigan until she too passed away five years later. In 1964, Ron retired from the armed forces, and in 1969 Lizzie was accepted into Harvard.

It wasn't until 1971 that Valerie returned to Europe. They went to Berchtesgaden, and stayed in a hotel just down the road from the house she and Ron had stayed in at the end of the war. By then it had been so long that she was nought but a tourist - just another visitor passing through, with nothing left to tether her to everything that had happened there so many years before. Her past only existed in memory, in passing glances at the paintings on the walls and the books on the shelves back at home, the ones she had taken from the house Grant had taken her to the afternoon before he was shot.

As each year passed on, Valerie looked back on her life and realised she was no longer the same person she had been back then. The time after Leo died had once felt like the ultimate shift, the years that would break and change her forever. But in the end, she never stopped changing. In the end, no matter how settled down she felt, the world was always changing around her, and life was always moving forward, dragging her along with it like the tide on the edge of the lake, pulling her from one place to the next like those bumpy army jeeps with their uncomfortable seats and noisy engines.

She had been a student, a lover, a survivor, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, and eventually, she was a widow. But no matter how much she changed, and how much the world continued to change around her, some days she would wake up and it would be as if nothing had changed at all. She'd see herself out on the beach with a baby in her arms, on the garden terrace the night of her mother's party, on Ron's balcony from his room in Germany, the house just outside of Haguenau where she'd first laid eyes on him.

And sometimes she would wake up and find herself back in the middle of that road in Paris, Leo's blood staining the cobblestones. Except she didn't panic anymore. Because that part of her life would always hurt, but it didn't haunt her now.

And when Valerie took her last breath - in the armchair by the window one golden, sunny evening - she could imagine herself kissing Leo's cold forehead and saying goodbye the way she'd always wanted. Her daughter would weep when she found her the next morning, but for now, there was nothing to be sad about.

Because now she was going with Ron, the way she always said she would.

[onbrokenglass]

Hello there!

This blog is mainly for finding roleplays. I roleplay exclusively on Discord (I love making private servers) and am 21+, so minors please DNI. Style-wise I can adapt to my partner, though my favourite way to write is lit for those juicy, introspective moments. NSFW friendly, and I like all sorts of pairs from fxf, mxf, mxm, to any nb pairs. Platonic and found family are fun too!

My messages are always open for people interested in writing with me! I promise I don’t bite, even if some of my muses do.

Under the cut is a list of characters I’ll thread with (who I’d like to play is bolded, if both are bolded I can do either or), though it’s by no means exhaustive. Regardless of how old this post gets, you can message me at any time for those on this list.

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Ships (Canon)

Anakin Skywalker x Obi-Wan Kenobi

Atton Rand x Female Exile

Aviendha x Elayne Trakand

Beatrice x Battler Ushiromiya

Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Bruce Wayne x Selina Kyle

Carmy Berzatto x Sydney Adamu

Chloe Frazer x Nadine Ross

Dale Cooper x Harry Truman

Daniel Solace x Maura Franklin

Dick Grayson x Wally West

Dracula x Mina Harker

Elend Venture x Vin

Emma Larsimon x Marianne

Enid Sinclair x Wednesday Addams

Erik Lehnsherr x Charles Xavier

Ethan Winters x Karl Heisenberg

Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy

Harry du Bois x Kim Kitsuragi

James Delaney x Lorna Bow

Joe Goldberg x Forty Quinn

Joe Goldberg x Love Quinn

John Constantine x Bruce Wayne

John Constantine x Lucifer

Jon Kent x Damian Wayne (either aged up or still young, but if they’re young absolutely no NSFW)

Jonas Kahnwald x Martha Nielsen (any iterations)

Kaz Brekker x Inej Ghafa

Kaz Brekker x Jesper Fahey

Kyle Hyde x Brian Bradley

Kevin x Ilonka Pawluk

Laurent of Vere x Damen of Akielos

Leon Kennedy x Ada Wong

Leon Kennedy x Chris Redfield

Marius Josipovic x Julia Bowman

Marius Josipovic x Taylor Bowman

Mat Cauthon x Elayne Trakand

Mat Cauthon x Rand al’Thor

Mat Cauthon x Tuon Paendrag

Matt Murdock x Foggy Nelson

Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

Mike Ross x Harvey Specter

Moon Knight (all/any of them) x Layla El-Faouly

Moon Knight (all/any of them) x Peter Parker (adult Peter only)

Nate Fick x Brad Colbert

Nate Jacobs x  Maddy Perez

Nathan Prescott x Max Caulfield

Percy Jackson x Nico di Angelo

Phoenix Wright x Miles Edgeworth

Rob Ryan x Cassie Maddox (book verse)

Roman Godfrey x Peter Rumancek

Ronald Speirs x Carwood Lipton

Sherlock Holmes x John Watson

Stephen Holder x Sarah Linden

Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Thomas Shelby x Alfie Solomons

Tomas Ortega x Marcus Keane

Tyrell Wellick x Elliot Alderson

Wade Wilson x Peter Parker (adult Peter only)

Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter

Wolfgang Bogdanow x Kala Dandekar

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Ships (OC)

Alcina Dimetrescu x OC (female)

Atticus O’Sullivan x OC (any, supernatural or mythological)

Francis York Morgan x OC (any)

Holden Ford x OC (male, serial killer and/or detective)

John Constantine x OC (any)

Jonathan Reid x OC (any)

Peter Pan x OC (male, lost boy - no NSFW, though would feature dark themes as my Peter is inspired by the book The Child Thief. Would love platonic friends or enemies for this as well.)

Vanessa Ives x OC (any)

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Platonic

Carmy Berzatto & Richie Jerimovich

Dexter Morgan & Harrison Morgan

Five Hargreeves & Any Hargreeves Siblings

Hank Anderson & Connor

Jesse Pinkman & Walter White

Joel Miller & Ellie Williams

Kratos & Atreus

Moon Knight System (any against any)

Norman Bates & Dylan Massett

Peter Pan & Hook

[honey-im-hotdog]

Individual:

Albert Blithe

Bill Guarnere

Bull Randleman 

Carwood Lipton 

Chuck Grant 

Donald Malarkey 

Eugene Roe I – Roe II – Roe III – Roe IV

Floyd Talbert 

George Luz 

Joe Toye 

Joseph Liebgott I – Liebgott II – Liebgott III

Richard Winters I – Winters II

Ronald Speirs I – Speirs II – Speirs III – Speirs IV 

Shifty Powers I – Powers II – Powers III 

Group:

Babe Heffron & Eugene Roe 

Liebgott, Luz, Nixon, Roe, & Winters

Joseph Liebgott & Ronald Speirs 

Richard Winters x OC for @justlily10

Masterpost