Ok fine, Serena is close enough. I am fandom trash with problematic faves. Will not update often. She/her, 26. I write for FICTIONAL (VERSIONS) of characters plz don't sue me. Mobile Masterlist
Allright! The MASTERLIST. The MASTERLIST for tumblr, the MASTERLIST chosen especially to organize my work for tumblr, tumblr’s MASTERLIST. That MASTERLIST?
Here it is, kids!
NSFW ALPHABET MASTERLIST
NON BoB FICS
Dick Winters
Everything Will Break: part one, part two
Hiding From the War We Claim to Fight For: part one, part two, part three, part four***
Band of Brothers Greetings
Lewis Nixon
I’ve Yet To Taste, You’ve Yet To Indulge (Allow Me To Remedy Both) ***
Band of Brothers Greetings
Our First Defeat: part one***, part two, part two and a half, part three***, part four, part five
Carwood Lipton
On Days Like This: part one, part two, part three***, part four, part five
Nothing Dulls Your Foolish Shine***
Band of Brothers Greetings
Lynn “Buck” Compton
You Are Mine, I Am Yours***
Band of Brothers Greetings
Drabble***
Untitled Buck smut/angst
Denver “Bull” Randleman
Touch Me With Your Hands Until I’m Yours***
I Pity The Grave That Tries To Keep Me From You
There’s A Reason It’s Called Liquid Courage
Band of Brothers Greetings
Eugene “Doc” Roe
Never Be Sorry, Not For This: part one***, part two***
You’re All I’ve Ever Wanted, All I Want to Know: part one***, part two***
Band of Brothers Greetings
Joe Liebgott
Darling I’m Just Not Okay: part one***, part two, part three, part four
You Calm The Storm, You Give Me Rest***
Untitled Bill x Reader x Lieb smut
Untitled Chuck x Reader x Lieb smut (part of the Eyes Will Lead Me Back Home-verse)
You’ve Been Sad (I’ve Been Lonely)
Boys Who Speak With Silver Luck*** (unofficial sequel to above fic)
Caught In Your Riptide, Can’t Let You Know: part one***, part two
Band of Brothers Greetings
Ron Speirs
Ignorance Is Blitzed: part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven***
It’s Not About Dibs
Forgiveness Is Divine
A Rare Night of Peace
What We Want and What We Can Have: part one, part two
I Wish I could Leave This Alone... (guest starring role)***
Drabble***
Band Of Brothers Greetings p2
Johnny Martin
If You Need It, Then I Need It***
Untitled Johnny smut
Band Of Brothers Greetings p2
George Luz
Untitled Luz smut
Drinking Up This Sweet Decadence***
Band Of Brothers Greetings p2
Edward “Babe” Heffron
I Wish I Could Leave This Alone (I Know How Much You Want Me To)***
Untitled Babe smut
Band of Brothers Greetings
Bill Guarnere
Inherent Risks of Loving A Wild Man: part one, part two***
Untitled Bill x Reader x Lieb smut
Band Of Brothers Greetings p2
Don Malarkey
Lay Your Hands Upon My Chest (and Call It Home)
I Know I’m Guilty (It’s Not Your Fault)***
Band Of Brothers Greetings p3
Darrell “Shifty” Powers
Untitled Shifty angst
Untitled Shifty smut
drabble***
Band Of Brothers Greetings p3
Joe Toye:
You Can Just Stay (Under This Weight)
Knees Known to Go Weak When You Pull Me In***
NSFW Alphabet***
Harry Welsh
My Ruin is Heaven Sent and Battle Tested***
Chuck Grant
The Splendor of These Exploding Skies (Yet All I See Is You)***
Untitled Chuck x Reader x Lieb smut (part of the Eyes Will Lead Me Back Home-verse)
A dumb little snippet from a dumb little fic i have rolling around in my head
Robby x EMT!Reader
summary: part of a larger fic im flushing out. basic plot is that reader overhears robby and heather talking in the ambulance (reader was on the way to surprise robby after learning that he unexpectedly came into work the day of PittFest) and basically starts spiralling (bc wow reader didn't even know that heather and robby were a thing, why didn't he tell her(?)) and maybe i'll flush this out later
warnings: robby is canonically bad at feelings, reader isn't the greatest at them herself. mentions of past robby x collins, past!abortion mention, reader has issues letting people in and takes any sort of betrayal as a sign of failure on her end. reader probably should not be driving a carif she heartbreaked/raged out so hard she doesn't remember getting inside of it. NOT PROOFREAD. BARELY EDITED. THIS IS UGLY RAW BRAIN SOUP AND I'M LIKE 1/2 SORRY ABOUT IT.
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Eyes burning with tears that frankly should’ve been shed a while ago, you barely register that you’ve turned heel and begun to walk back through the ambulance entrance. You know that you nearly shoulder check Ahmed on the way in, but your throat had become so tight that the best you can muster is that awkward apology-wave normally reserved for strangers… and you’re aware of Dr. Mohan saying something after she spots you turning past the staff lockers towards the employee side exit, but you don’t think you even make eye contact.
All you can think about is getting away- from what you learned and what he said (and what he didn’t fucking say- and somehow managed to not fucking say for nearly a year) and all that this fucking overheard conversation had suddenly reframed.
You felt stupid, so fucking dumb and naieve and played- of course Heather hadn’t randomly hated you from the jump! Of course she hadn’t! Heather Collins was (obnoxiously) one of the most methodical, rational, and professionally reliable people you’d ever met. In fact, the only thing she’d ever been irrational about was you in relation to Robby….
Heather, who apparently wasn’t coming from a place of strange feminine competition when she insinuated that he had a reputation.
Robby, who not only dismissed your mentions of underlying tension between the three of you while fully knowing your gut-feelings were true, but failed to disclose the relationship that preluded yours and created the friction in the first place.
Robby, who hadn’t even bothered to tell you that he’d decided to come into work today until his shift was halfway through.
Bzzzt….Bzzzt….
Your phone in your hand breaks you from your spiraling thoughts, and the fact that you’re fully sitting behind the wheel of your parked car- yet have no recollection of any of the steps it took to get you there- nearly makes your spiral once again before the next trill of the muted ring trembles your fingers.
Bzzzt. 'Robby Cell' Calling. Bzzzt.
The scoff that escapes your throat is ugly, and you’re declining the call before you even allow yourself to consider the motive behind it. Taking what seems to be the first deep breath you’ve had in a while, you sag into the car’s seat, squeezing your eyes shut because at this point, your refusal to allow yourself to cry is becoming painful.
You can’t deal with it, not right now. You don't get to break down yet, because you’ve got to make decisions.
Yes, ok, decisions.
Well, you certainly know that you need to grab some shit from his townhouse before he gets off of his shift, so heading there seems as good a place as any. Fuck, you hoped he didn’t have his phone on him, so his Ring notification shouldn’t alert him of what you’re doing.
He’s been screening your calls and texts all day, but maybe he’d actually give a fuck if he thought his home was actually being burgled. Although, with if today was any indicator- the moment he saw that it was just you, Michael would probably delete the app just to be rid of you….
Bzzt. Robby Cell Calling. Bzzt.
Seriously?
“Seriously?” you hiss, eyes flashing open again to see that he’s trying to FaceTime now. What in the actual fuck possessed him to decide to have today be the first day he initiates a video call with you, you cannot possibly give a shit about? You dismiss the call, sniffing back another wave of sadness that threatens to make you cry again and focus on turning the car on.
You hear the start of another buzz and his decline again. Fuck him.
You pull out of your parking spot and clear your throat, taking a deep shuddering breath as you try to keep it together at least until you get inside his place, that way you don’t darken his ring camera door with your sad, weepy face.
Your car’s Bluetooth system begins to announce a new incoming call, and you don't even give it a moment more to speak before you decline again. Well, your therapist had once said that some find it helpful to channel their hurt into anger. Michael was certainly proving an excellent example of how easy the mental shift can be.
Where the fuck did he get off, really? You’ve literally never tread more gently with another person in your life than you have with Michael Robinovitch- never before had you let someone as close to you as you allowed that man. Sure, you had damage- and no, you hadn’t immediately told him your deepest secrets and traumas the very second your relationship started becoming more serious- but you’d told them to him. You’d wanted him to know all of those things — you’d wanted to make sure that he knew all that came with loving you and being loved by you because that’s what you thought you were supposed to do.
The only love you’d ever known before him was either platonic or familial or lust pretending to be love, it wouldn’t have been fair to someone who clearly was more experienced in every sense of the word….
Jesus, maybe this had been broken from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve learned how to have fuck buddies like your other First Responder friends. Maybe that’s all he wanted in the first place.
So why was he hounding you now?
He’s had plenty of time to reach out. Months of it.
Even if he’s felt a million miles away from right beside you, you’ve still been there. Wasn’t any of this worth fighting for?
Why didn’t he want to fight for this, too?
You’re about to hit decline again until an unexpected need for both hands on the wheel allows more of the Bluetooth to announce itself.
“Call from CARLY- WORK”
“Call from CARLY- WORK”
You frown at that. Your supervisor had all but forced you to switch PTO dates with her so that you would cover for her son’s graduation. She’d even shown you the station’s on-call sheet to prove how this week was the “perfect week” for you to “take a break for once” and get some Vitamin D….so unless four people suddenly got sick….
“Hey, Carls,” you answer immediately, voice a little pitchier than you’d like as you quickly take stock of your surroundings. “I’m in the car— Give me one sec to pull over, okay?”
Carly stays quiet on the line as you merge and navigate to the 7-Eleven parking lot you know about a to the block west, and you can hear the normal sounds of Ambulance dispatch in the background on her end. Biting the inside of your cheek for a count of one-two-three, you force a smile on your face so it can be heard in your voice.
“Sorry, Carly- I’m all yours now, how’s it going—?”
“Hey Pookie,” she begins, and you know instantly that something’s gone wrong. ‘Pookie’ was reserved for when Carly had to break some news that she knows the person listening doesn't want to hear. “So, you’re gonna hate me—”
“Carlotta, I just got some pretty hate-inducing news, so unless what you’re going to say has anything to do with that very specific situation, I am sure that I will not hate you—”
“—and you won’t! Because it’s a really easy task, I promise! And you know I wouldn’t ask unless I didn’t have to, but since you’re already out—”
You wince in preparation for her to ask you to come in to work a shift, leaning forward to rest your forehead against the wheel of your car as you take a deep breath before hearing your fate. Single, double? Oh fuck…split shift?
“—fell out of fucking Rami’s pocket while he was in the Porta-Potty, and I know you have that really useful thing you do where you always have at least two spare sets of everything, so if you don’t mind doing that, you’d be my hero.”
Wait, what?
“Kiddo, come on— you know I hate poop stuff! Can you puh-lease bring your spare keys for Bus 43 to your fellow EMTs while you’re out right now? Novarro’s keys fell out when he went to the can, and no one feels like going spelunking, okay?! DO NOT make me give the details again because I WILL SEND THAT ONE HOT COP’S UNIT OUT LOOKING FOR YOU—!”
Oh. OH!
“Y-yeah—Yes! Sorry, zoned out for a sec!” you interrupt the other woman, shaking your brain back into work mode from it’s previous state of catastrophe and painful introspection. “Of course, Carls—I’m happy to. I was finished with what I was doing, anyway.”
Taking one more deep breath, you do what you do best- you shelve it. You shelve Michael and Heather and the townhouse you’d been spending more nights at than your own apartment, and the dumb little life you’d foolishly allowed yourself into thinking you were starting.
“Uh, where can I run them, Boss?”
“East gate at PittFest, where the vendor parking signs are. I’ll have someone there to get them from you, you ABSOLUTE ANGEL, sent from ABOVE—!?”
You laugh without any true heart, grabbing your phone from the cupholder you’d thrown it into so you can start pulling up the best route to get there from this side of town. The moment you unlock your screen you catch a flash of the notifications dashboard.
Robby Cell- 3 unread messages
Missed Call- Pitt ED- Front Desk (Dana)
Missed Call- Robby Cell
The sight nearly makes you stop, almost makes you pause and consider what you’d just decided to shelve….
“PittFest, east gate, vendor signs, got it. I’m on my way…show me responding.”
Dennis Whitaker would shriek in horror when your press-on nail pops off in his hand because he has no idea how all that 'stuff' works (sweet country boy) and the poor baby thought his beloved was dying before his very eyes.
Either he’d run there in a day, or get himself dropped in behind enemy lines like any self respecting paratrooper. After that, what’s Mount Doom but a really hot Curahee?
