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justmeinadaze · 2 years ago

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Date Night (A Night In) Steve X You

A/N: I wrote this last night because my period is being aggressive and I just need sensitive Steve to come over and take care of me <3.

Warning: Period, Shower smut, lots of fluff

Word Count: 2022

Steve was surprised when he came home and your car was already in the driveway. As he opened the door, he was met with total chaos.

“Hey!”, he claps his hands immediately silencing the younger Harrington boys. “Why is everyone yelling?!”

“Junior is being mean and won’t let me play the game!”

“It’s not Andrew’s turn. Plus, he’s been playing it since he got home an hour ago!”

“Hey, what’s the rule? What’s the rule?!”, Steve repeats as the boy’s whine.

“If we can’t share, it becomes yours.”, they respond in unison.

“Good. Now, where is Bobby?”

“He’s lying in bed with mom. She was here when we got home and Grandma dropped him off earlier.”, Junior shrugged as he focused his eyes back to the TV.

“Ok, I’ll be right back. You guys are packed, right? Aunt Robin should be here soon.”

He waves his hand at them as they nod, climbing the stairs to find you. When he opens your bedroom door, he finds his youngest fast asleep on his side in front of you. You were asleep as well but you were gently groaning as your nose scrunched occasionally in pain.

When Steve lifted the covers to grab his son to let you rest, he noticed you had laid a towel under your hips. He softly caressed your face before lifting Bobby and carrying him down the stairs.

##############

You stirred a little while later to the sound of your name.

“What? Huh? Fuck, the boys…?”

“Baby, baby calm down. It’s ok. They’re with Robin. Here, I brought you some pain meds.”

You gladly took them, chugging down the glass of water Steve brought up with him. He sat on the bed, chuckling as you wrapped your body around his back like a snake. “Is it bad again this month?” He sighs when you nod. “Do you think you should—”

“No… no. It’s fine. Nothing too abnormal.”

Since high school Steve knew your periods killed you. They were bad then but as you got older it seemed to knock you on your ass less. After having Junior, though, it steadily got worse again. The months when it had you in bed, wincing, and crying scared him to death. He hated seeing you in pain.

“Honey, I know you’re scared to talk to the doctor but—”

“Steve! I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay!?”

He exhales again, watching as you try to get out of bed but fail. Steve comes around to your side, carefully lifting you in his arms, and carries you to the bathroom. As you use the toilet you can’t help but laugh at him as he leans against the sink.

“You don’t have to stand in here with me. I’m not broken.”

He smiles at your tone. “Yeah, but I find any mystery in a marriage to be overrated.”

You giggle at him before completing your needs and standing to scoot towards the sink. Steve places his hand on your lower back mostly to let you know you had support if you felt shaky.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just…hormones.”

You grin up at him as he delicately pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Y/N, I get it. I know… you’re worried about what she might say when it comes to more kids but… Honey, I just want you to be healthy and happy.”

“I know. One of the reasons I love you.” You lean back to look up at him and he bends slightly to kiss your lips.

“So, since we can’t go out for date night, I had an idea. I was thinking we could watch a movie and eat in bed.”

“Oh, Steve Harrington. You spoil me.”

He grinned coyly as he lifted you, carrying you back to the bed.

“What feels more comfortable? Lying on your back or side?”

“Honestly, the medication is kicking in and now that my lower half doesn’t feel like it’s trying to escape through my skin I’d like to sit up, please.”

Steve laughs as he gently places you down on the mattress. You watch with pure admiration as he moves around the room, organizing things on the dresser so the wall behind it was completely clear. He disappeared downstairs, coming back with a box of pizza and bag full of goodies.

“Will you marry me?”, you sigh happily as you reach into the bag and pull out the candy he knows you crave during this time.

“I already did! There was a whole ceremony and everything.”, he grins. “I’d gladly do it again though.” He grabs his phone as he climbs on to the bed, focusing his eyes on the screen before him. You smile as you watch his eyebrows furrow together as he concentrates; just like he did in high school when he was working on homework.

“Ok, I think I got it. You want to see something cool?” You nod at his question before he taps at the screen and suddenly The Goonies starts playing on the wall in front of you. Steve chuckles as he watches your eyes light up with amusement.

“I may or may not have bought a projector and hid it for an occasion such as this.”

You beam over at him as you curl up into his side. His arm wraps around you as his palm comes down to absently rub your back.

Throughout the movie, you find it hard to keep your eyes in front of you. Every time Steve’s fingers move along your skin, you feel electricity shoot through your body. He takes a drink from his glass and your eyes focus on his Adam’s apple as it bobs within his very kissable throat. Your own hand absent mindedly rubs against his chest, watching it rise and fall slowly as he breathes.

He had changed into comfortable clothes before waking you up and you could faintly see the outline of cock as the fabric of his shorts rested against him.

“Whoa, baby.”

You blinked back to the moment when his other hand reached over to grab your wrist. You hadn’t even realized the palm you had on his chest has gradually glided below his waist.

“We, uh, you’re going to get me going if you keep doing stuff like that.”, Steve smiled down at you as he placed your hand on his stomach.

“Can we?” You slid your fingers under his shirt, running them along his skin.

“Honey, I…you’re in pain—”

“Not as much right now and they say orgasms really help with cramps.” He exhaled a breathy laugh as he licked his lips trying to contain his pleasure at the thought. “I just… I need to feel you desperately for some reason. Well, hormones I imagine but…” You both chuckle as the hand behind your back comes up to run through your hair.

“Okay. I’ve never…we’ve never…”, Steve stuttered, completely unsure of how to proceed.

“I think we would both be more comfortable in the shower. Less mess to.”

His lips lean over to kiss your forehead. “You know I don’t mind it getting messy.” You giggle as he climbs out of bed and lifts you in his arms again, carrying you towards the bathroom.

Steve turns on the water, making sure its warm before keeping an eye on you as you disrobe and step in. Even the small actions of watching him stumble around to take off his own clothes was turning you on even more. You weren’t sure if he did it on purpose to make you laugh or he was just that graceful but it was part of what made Steve him and you loved it.

As soon as he climbed in with you, you immediately clasped your arms around his neck, bringing his lips to yours. You were quick to get him in the shower but as soon as his arms were wrapped around you, you felt like you could stay like this forever.

His lips chased yours as you kissed down his chest to his stomach, his fingers tangling in your hair behind your head.

“Baby, babe…”, he whispered as you began to lower your body below his waist. “You don’t have to… trust me. You kissing me like that…I’m fucking hard as a rock.” Steve tilted your head so he could place your lips back on his. “I want to feel you, honey. Can I pick you up?”

When you nod, he tenderly situates your arms back around his neck before reaching down to grip the back of your thighs and lift you, locking them around his waist. You feel him shift between your legs and you drop one of your hands to help guide him into your entrance.

“Fuck, Steve.”

“Jesus. Hold on to me, baby.”

After you do as he asks, he begins thrusting into you as his fingers cling to your body. You moaned into his ear as you felt the tip of his cock hit that sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly, setting your skin a blaze.

“That feels so good. Oh my god.”

Steve grunts into your neck as his mouth trace along the side. You lightly tug on his hair, placing his forehead on yours, your pussy fluttering around him as his pants hit your lips.

“Harder, Steve. Please.”

He holds you tightly as he drops one your legs from around him and pushes your back against the tile.

You whimper as he pumps into you vigorously, your eyes leaving his face to lustfully scan down his body as your palm slides down his hairy chest and back up to his neck. Steve’s eyes meet yours with a small smile.

“I love—mmm—when you touch me like that.”

“You’re so fucking handsome. I can’t help it.” He chuckles as he kisses your lips. “Make me cum, baby. Please. I need you to make cum.”, you whisper.

His head falls to your shoulder as he chases both your highs.

“F-fuck, yes, Steve. Just like that. Cum with me. Please…” You repeated your last word in his ear over and over until felt the coil in your belly snap as your arms held him tightly to you. His rhythm stuttered and he moaned loudly into your skin as he released his seed inside of you.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, you relishing in the closeness of the man that you fell in love with.

“Are you okay?”, he murmured as he lifted his head to look down at you.

“Better than.”

Your answer makes him smile as his grips your hips, slowly pulling out of you. “Let me take care of you, honey.”

You stand there patiently under the warm water allowing him to clean you as he periodically leaves gentle kisses along your skin.

After he turns off the shower, he holds your hand as he helps you out of the tub and quickly dries you off.

“Okay, babe, do your thing and get dressed. I’ll wait for you out here.”

You giggle at the sight before you as you step out of the bathroom. Steve had thrown on a pair of boxers and was laying haphazardly over the bed with his leg hanging over the side. He was smiling at his phone as he lazily brought a piece of pizza to his mouth.

“You’re such a dork.”

His grin grows as he gestures for you to come lay with him. As soon as you do, he shows you his phone displaying a picture Robin had sent to him of all three boys watching a movie with her girlfriend.

“What are they showing them?”

“Killer Clowns from Outer Space.” You both laugh as he wraps his arm around you, bringing your head to his bare chest. “After we finish this, we should watch that.”

“I’m down.” You lean up to kiss his cheek and jokingly turns his head just in time to capture your lips. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”

“Oh, sweetheart. I wouldn’t know. I ask myself that every day about you.”

########

Date Night Series

#steve x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #joe keery smut #joe keery fluff #fan fiction

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tu-es-gegg · 1 year ago

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if you don't know me basically i came up with a story where the entire magic system was based around the French suit of playing cards which are different Houses which are as follows; Spades (Air) are the scholars where most are the notabilities, Diamonds (Earth/Flora) are merchant traders, Clubs (Fire) are the warriors and Hearts (Water) are like the bishop/caretakers, the rankings are how powerfult heir are and kind determine their status kinda

So far in my head, the SootCraft family are all Spades like I physcially cannot imagine Phil being NOT King of Spades and Wilbur Jack of Spades. the kids all start off as aces so both Tallulah and Chayanne are Aces of Spades.

Then Forever is King of Hearts and Richas most likely will also be Ace of Hearts. I’m undecided if Baghera would be a Queen/Jack of Hearts or Clubs because she feels like both to me, both being family community oriented and very head strong. (Queen is different from Jack in teh sense that the Jack is about to become either a King or Queen, its not really gender based at all its more that Queens are connected to the people, Kings lead the people mainly)

Bad might be also Queen of Hearts or something (and skeppy can be diamonds because why the hell not)

Dapper and Ramon, my Aces of Clubs, my little guys

ig dramatrio can all be hearts thats very fitting of them three

Pomme is kinda Spades coded, by how much shes docile and not that much instinctual,

ETOILES IS DIAMONDS CODED SO DIAMONDS CODED HE MIGHT AS WELL BE JACK OR 10 OF DIAMONDS FIGHT ME

Tazercraft i like the idea of Pac being Clubs and Mike being Diamonds, it feels fitting for them somehow, probably both of them being 6 of their suits respectively

Cellbit is Spades I don’t make teh rules, Seven of Spades, he is that

Roier is Diamonds just by how giving freely his own love away and its traded back as others love as well, he is very well connected to people and gives most of himself and sometimes he gets betrayed but he gives anyway

Jaiden is SO Hearts, Queen of hearts or Ten of Hearts, she loved Bobby so much and seh cares abotu others evry much she will do anything,

(Diamonds indicators how they interact with their givings and recievings, what they trade for and the effort to do so, for Etoiles its both material and metaphysical by just how much effort he aspires for the hunt, Roier its metaphorical with his own heart and love, its about the tradddeeees boys)

(for me hearts is fully emotional coded, its the connections and the value of their connections if it makes sense, the dramatrio they value their family above all else)

Charlie and Mariana, Hearts coded to all hell btw but also Clubs coded to an extent, both have things to do with emotional passion, both to each other and to their daughter, like they value that connection between them very much more than anything even if it hurts them (esp by how much fuckin much fire symbolsim in them liek jesus) Juana must eb Clubs tho, its very important.

Quackity GOD hes so Ace of Diamonds, he trades everything and gets nothing in return, bitchless behaviour hes so sad

(and tilin is Clubs my little bastard)

and then ElQuackity can be Ace of Spades, HEHEHEHEH IT MAKES SENSE

uhhhhhh Vegetta and Foolish also Clubs coded, Kings or both can be Eights, they are builders adn creatives, very action in their actions (ha), plus Leo being Clubs makes so much sense

*bangs table8 MAXO DIAMONDS CODED, 5 OF DIAMONDS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

to obe continues i guesss when i think abotu more at like 12 am

#txt post #qsmp #random shit i know but like hang with me here #its very late for me i am being insane over my oc story

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deepinifhell · 8 months ago

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OC in 15 - Lauren Jenkins Rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

You're getting some snippets because some of them are more fun that way.

Warnings: pregnancy mention, implied past sexual assault, suicide attempt, drug use mention 1. “Bobby,” Lauren begins slowly, “if you don’t turn around and get out of my sight I will fuck your dad and become your stepmother.”

Bobby’s mouth falls open, and then shuts again. When he next opens his mouth to speak she cuts him off first.

“I’ve met your dad, Bobby. You know I could.” 2. “I’m gonna save you a lot of time Nate. As a rule of thumb: you don’t want to know about anything I did in college.” 3. “Yeah, well, I was on a lot more drugs at the time."

4. Lauren leans away from Morgan’s hands before they are even within a foot of her, bringing her hands up to further enforce the boundary.

“Your ankle might be broken. How else you are you planning on getting back?”

“None of your business!” Lauren snaps, reflexively.

5. “She’s so hot it pisses me off,” Lauren complains, running her fingers through her hair. “How am I supposed to get any work done when she’s just…there?”

“Usually, you just don’t,” Farah points out with a waggle of her eyebrows.

6- 10. “I’ve spoken to Rebecca more in the past few months than I have in the last decade, if that’ll shut you up,” Lauren tells Nate.

“I— really?” Nate asks in obvious surprise.

“There’s a reason you didn’t know she had a kid for so long, dumbass. The last time I called her I was in jail.”

“That’s right! You got your job at the station because it was that or jail, right?” Farah asks, eyes gleaming. Lauren nods. “So…what did you do?”

“Stabbed a guy,” Lauren says simply. “But I have it on good authority that he deserved it."

“And just whose authority is that?” Adam asks incredulously.

“Captain Sung. You think he’d let me within 5 feet of his precious station if he thought I was a serious problem?”

“He cares about the station?” Farah asks.

“Yeah, it’s like when you have a kid that you say you love but you never see or interact with them.” 11. “I’m pregnant!” “Shit,” Lauren swears surprisingly quietly, “do you need a ride to the clinic?”

“Lauren,” Nate gasps, glaring at Lauren’s back before turning to face a townsperson, whose name he doesn’t even know, with irritating familiarity. “Congratulations.”

“She offered to help,” Morgan says with a shrug.

12. “Do you just go around letting people touch you when you don’t want them to?” Morgan asks.

“I wouldn’t call it unwanted when I let them do it,” Lauren says dismissively. Morgan’s hands loosen on her shoulder, hesitating.

13. "Why exactly would I do that?" Adam asks, eyes narrowed and shoulders hunched by his ears.

Lauren gets up from her chair in favor of straddling Morgan's hips. She glances back at Adam to make sure he's watching before dragging her tongue in a long stripe up Morgan's neck. Morgan shivers underneath her. "Because I licked it so it's mine."

14. "Ugh...do you have any idea how much paper work I'm gonna have to do if you kill yourself?" Lauren asks as she slides into the passenger seat of the sedan. She pulls a candy bar out of her pocket and pushes it toward the snotty red-faced teen. They take it with some garbled sound that is either an attempt at communication or just a weird sob. It doesn't really matter, they're so worked up its going to be a few minutes before they're coherent either way.

"Eat that," Lauren orders as she reaches over to turn off the running car, pocketing the keys and putting her feet up on the dash. "It's expensive as hell to die these days, y'know? Even just getting cremated and put in a cardboard box is a few hundred dollars. Plus, when you die you shit yourself, so the car is definitely going to need detailed."

15. "You wanna say that again?" Lauren demands, pushing up out of her seat, her hands balled into fists and nostrils flaring.

tagged by @aztarion

tagging: @nat-seal-well @grapecaseschoices @crownleys @wayhavenots @sustainably-du-mortain and anyone else who wants to do this!

#lauren jenkins #tag games #I think I tagged all the mutuals that weren't already tagged? but I probably forgot someone and I am so sorry

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stobinesque · 1 year ago

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C and F for the fanfic ask game ✨💕

C: What character do you identify with most?

Hilariously I think the answer for Stranger Things are all characters I don't talk about all that often 😅. Somewhat paradoxically (maybe?) I find it easier to project onto characters that aren't necessarily hugely similar to me on paper. Of the characters I yell about most frequently, the answer is absolutely Lucas, especially season 4 Lucas. After that I think Dustin might actually be the character I relate to the most? If the younger kids have a mom friend outside of Steve, it's Dustin, and I'm definitely typically a mom friend in my friend groups. But like Dustin I often end up feeling a little insecure about my position in my friend groups. I am also an annoyingly pedantic know it all 😂

I also relate to Jonathan a whole lot! Just not in ways that feel super comfortable to super closely. To borrow from The Magnus Archives for a sec for analogy purposes: if Steve would be susceptible to being trapped by The Lonely, Jonathan Byers would be susceptible becoming an Avatar for The Lonely. I am Jonathan Byers in this regard. But I have enough healthy fear of exacerbating that in myself that'd I'd rather explore loneliness through a character who is actually afraid of being lonely, rather than susceptible to embracing their loneliness.

........there's definitely not a theme going on with all of those characters. (Also Robin is included in this--really loneliness and ostracization is just a strong thematic throughline for all of the series' characters. Hmm. I'm gonna stop introspecting about this now)

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

Okay so in general I just really love writing dialogue, especially for Stobin, so this was hard!

But I think this scene from phryctoria captures most of what I both love and think I'm good at when it comes to writing stobin dialogue in particular:

“I don’t know. I don’t think...I mean I’ve never heard them say anything, you know? And, like, they were both hippies when they were younger, or whatever. It’d be weird for them to be homophobic, right?” “Adults never make any sense.” Robin huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Right.” She twists one of her rings around her finger. “There’s no way to be totally sure of anything, right? But keeping it at my place is definitely safer than keeping it at yours.” Steve sighs. “We really need to find another job.” “Holy non-sequitur, Batman!” “Non-sequi-what?” “Random subject switch,” she explains, waving her hand. “Hey, no, not random!” He pulls a hand off the wheel to flap a hand at her. “If one of us gets kicked out it may as well be both of us getting kicked out. And I don’t know about you, but I do not have enough saved up from Scoops to try to get an apartment.” Robin grimaces. “That’s a good point.” “I’m full of good points, Bobbie.” She flashes him a lewd smile. “Not yet you aren’t,” she says with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle. “I think at this point we just have to accept that you enjoy talking about my sex life, Buckley.” Robin gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest like he’s wounded her. “I can’t believe you would say something so grossly offensive.” “I hope you know that you’ve doomed yourself to a play-by-play the next time I get laid.” “Ugh. Being friends with you is such a burden.” “You love me, asshole.” “God fucking help me, dingus. I do.”

Okay, so one of my favorite things about Stobin is that at heart they're just two silly goofy guys, both of whom are super neurodivergent (to me). One of my other favorite things about Stobin is that they aren't afraid to be vulnerable with each other. However, these two things present the tricky thing about writing stobin dialogue: halfway through a serious conversation one of them is liable to derail the whole thing with an awful joke. So any time I'm writing a stobin scene I have to figure out how to let them both go on tangents and be goofy and joke around--because that levity in the midst of heartache is part of the whole backbone of their friendship!--without losing the plot of the core focus of the scene.

The snipped above isn't my favorite dialogue moment from this fic, but I do think it is one of the ones that best demonstrates how they can juggle having a serious conversation, being goofy, honoring one another's anxieties, and then being absolute shits to each other.

also idk if you saw the "do you prefer no-boundaries-stobin or 'ew don't talk to me about sex' stobin" poll, but I really enjoy playing with dialogue that is "we're going to make a lot of 'ew don't talk about sex' jokes but also talk about sex with each other All The Time."

#every time i think a stobin conversation is going one direction it instead goes in ten directions #read writes #ask game #phryctoria #del 💚

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outrunningthedark · 2 years ago

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I know people like to discredit the interviews but if you take of the shipper glasses and actually read them objectively, its very easy to tell how episodes will go. They say it straight up and once I accepted that , I’m never really surprised anymore. It sucks but it is what it is.

Okay, you know what. Let's talk about this because people need to see how the (current) "truth" was right there all along. OS post-lightning strike when asked if it was "intentional" for Eddie to scream for Buck the way he did: "Eddie, as we've seen over the years, has been more of a stoic character, and it's nice to see that broken when Buck is put in this position. But I don't think that's necessarily something that we have purposely played into here, it's just the nature of the scene that this is literally life and death." The guy was as direct as could be without calling anyone delulu and STILL this fandom was coming up with ways for the accident to lead to canon!Buddie. Kristen addressing how the firefam would handle the coma: How is the rest of the 118 going to be dealing with what happens to Buck in the next episode? Other than his parents and Maddie, who’s the most affected?

Everybody’s affected, I should say that. Obviously, for Bobby, it’s a lot. He’s there. Buck is, in a lot of ways, his kid, and seeing him in a hospital bed and not knowing if he’s going to live or die is triggering, especially having just lost a very dear friend in his AA sponsor. For Chimney he’s a bit shaken by it because he was the one who was going to go up that ladder, and Buck took his place. And it’s not that Chimney feels guilty because he didn’t send Buck up there, but it’s more of an “oh God, that could have been me. It could be me in that bed fighting for my life.”

(The fandom: "How do we make this about Eddie's feelings, because he's obviously gonna have a scene of his own with Buck?") The fandom during the poker game: "Captain Mehta coming back HAS to mean something! And why were Buck and Eddie looking at each other like that???" (For the latter: You mean the way Ryan and Oliver usually look at each other when they're on break because they're good friends? Uh. Okay.) Kristen explaining the thought process: "We talked about different abilities that he could have, and we came up with math because it just seemed so the opposite of the Buck we know and love. We did not want to give him a super ability that would positively or negatively impact his job, if that makes sense. You give Buck the inability to feel pain, and that just feels like a different story. We wanted to keep it fun." (And wow. It was, in fact, brought up again for a laugh with Ravi.) Oliver applauding the fans for picking up on the symbolism of Buck equating relationships with couches: "I love that the fans have picked up on the symbolism of the couch. Buck is attached to this symbolism of couches being related to relationships, and that's not something that's actually going away anytime soon. Up until Buck's very last scene of the season, we'll see that symbolism at play." Where...where did he say anything about *who*, specifically, the couch might be connected to? Where did he boil it down to one single relationship, even? Oh, and here's a fun one that doesn't get much attention because it must feel like a knife to the chest: Oliver after the lightning strike, discussing the bond between Buck and Eddie: “They’ve both become quite embedded in each other’s lives. I think they’ve kind of bonded and connected on so many levels, whether it be work, their personal lives and then add in that kind of fun dynamic where they clearly do just get on well. I think it’s just a nice recipe for a good relationship, however you choose to see it.” Idk what most of this fandom was reading, because everything I came across was saying "CAUTION: DISAPPOINTMENT AHEAD"

#anonymous #tina speaks #tv: 911 #tv: 9-1-1 #buddie #oliver stark

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scottxlogan · 2 years ago

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Random Thoughts

Random thoughts. As much as I am an X-Men fan I’ve been thinking lately about X-Men Apocalypse and how that film did such a HUGE disservice not only to Oscar Isaac, who in my opinion was HORRIBLY wasted in that film, which blows my mind given that he’s such a talented actor. Like seriously how could you not want to showcase him and let him run with being such an iconic villain and deliver a story for him to sink his teeth into? *sigh*, but that’s not what I’m in the mood to talk about right now. My BIGGEST complaint about that film is the characterization of Scott Summers. It’s something that’s troubled me from when I first saw the film.

Now let me preface this by saying that I have nothing against Tye Sheridan. Before Apocalypse came out I went and saw Scouts Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse to familiarize myself with the actor because so many people were talking about how he was such a fantastic actor and how he would be PERFECT for Scott. I was skeptical, but willing to give him a chance because Scott Summers is my favorite character. Has been for a very long time. In Scouts Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse the character Tye Sheridan plays is so much like Scott that I was hyped to see him in the role until the movie finally came out and I realized that the character he was in X-Men Apocalypse aside from crushing on Jean Grey was most certainly NOT Scott Summers. (For those who want to see Tye in a Scott type character, I’d recommend the film that I mentioned above as he was more Scott there than he was in Apocalypse.) Scott is NOT a bad boy, rule breaking, smart mouth snot. I’m sorry, but that’s never been Scott. He’s not the ‘cool dude’ or Alex’s hip little brother who is edgy like Alex is in the First Class films.

To those who don’t read the comics, I’ll just toss this out there. In the comics Alex is the younger brother and Scott literally gets brain damage saving his brother from the trauma of jumping out of the plane when their family is being attacked and their parents ‘died’. It’s such a tragic, interesting back story that leads to the ups and downs of Scott through the years with psychotic ‘father figures’ who experiment on/torture him, force him to use his powers for evil purposes until Charles saves him. The bond between Charles and Scott is one of the strongest ones in his life even if Charles has become a bit of a tyrant over time in how he manipulated Scott to do this bidding, but that’s another story for another time. Scott’s young life before the X-Men was loaded with pain and trauma where Alex was off adopted by a family and Scott was the obsession of a madman who for some reason was obsessed with the idea of breeding the perfect genetic mutant with him and Jean Grey...again another issue here lol.

That being said though Scott is shy, awkward, a lot of people have speculated autistic as well and there’s so much about Scott in his social awkwardness and his inherent self doubt/loathing as a teen that defines the man he becomes in the future. His rise from the shy, awkward kid too afraid to admit his feelings to Jean Grey or feel he was worthy of the role of leader that Charles bestows upon him to the strategic powerhouse he becomes is lost in Fox’s lame attempt to make someone that might be marketable to an audience who thinks it’s fun to see a a bratty fun cool guy who can come up with mischief. Now I love Scott. I do, but he is neither a bratty fun guy or a prankster. His sense of humor...well, really isn’t most of the time. It doesn’t fit who he is. Bobby was a prankster and a practical joker, but Scott is very serious almost to the point where he knows he’s not the popular guy that people gravitate to. He’s not the fun guy who is the life of the party, but rather he’s the guy who gets the job done and saves the day. He’s the guy with plans for his plans, etc. and he fights for his people with all that he has taking what he’s learned through the years and applying that knowledge to doing right by mutants and humans alike.

In a lot of ways Scott’s almost like a blend of Charles and Magneto as he’s evolved into his own man. I cannot stress enough that there is so much to LOVE about this guy, who by his beginnings had what could’ve led him to be a villain as that’s the kind of backstory he had, but regardless of the struggles and angst he became a hero and a leader. His story is so inspiring and really gives the character depth which is why he’s my favorite. Fox NEVER got that.

In the first three X-Men films, they minimized Scott’s appearance to showcase Logan, but James Marsden was a fantastic casting choice (height aside). He brought so much to the character with what little was given to him to work with. His performance is always overlooked, but James expresses so much emotion without the benefit of his eyes, which is a difficult task for actors. Some popular actors who were offered the role in Apocalypse originally turned it down for that very reason of not being able to use their eyes. James more than delivers and is very underrated. Now, none of the first films will give a casual non-comic reader the full story on Scott, but I hope that those who haven’t seen the first films take the opportunity to at least look at those films and that Scott to see a glimpse of who he is and not the character with Scott’s name and his powers that doesn’t display who he is. Now I know some people liked the version in Apocalypse, but it’s so disheartening to know that those who never read a comic or saw the old films will ever understand what makes Scott so great. He’s truly the underdog that ended up saving his people and becoming one hell of a leader. The complexities of his relationships are another dynamic of what makes him great.

There is so much to love about Scott and it makes me sad when I see so many fans who never were able to see that because Apocalypse was their first and only view of him. They were truly cheated and to this day it always makes me want to flood the blog with information and reference to Scott so people can see just how amazing he is as a character. Heck, even X-Men Origins which has a lot of problems in it did a better teen Scott than Apocalypse is so if someone wants to see a teen Scott that shows signs of who he will become, I would recommend that film as well for that alone. Like I cannot stress enough how much I hate that so many fans will never know how great he is. I literally went back and forth with a professor about how great Scott was, but with Fox not delivering it was so hard to share to only a film goer why my favorite character is so amazing since all people see is what little inaccurate crumbs that Fox gives. *rant over* Sorry it’s just sometimes I feel like letting this out because I hate how Scott gets overlooked or changed because those in charge don’t care enough to give the guy what he really deserves in a story especially in the film world. I do hope that the MCU does better.

#Scott Summers #Cyclops #comics #movies #this is a scott summers fan blog #rant #talk about my favorite #i hope people give him a chance #fox did not do him justice

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lune-hime · 3 years ago

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I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.

Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️

It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

A Second-First Meeting

“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.

“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.

“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.

“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.

“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.

“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”

Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.

“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.

“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.

⇷⛒⇸

“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.

“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.

“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.

“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.

As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.

“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”

“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.

“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”

Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.

“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”

“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.

“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.

“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.

“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.

“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.

“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.

“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Firelight

You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.

Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer. Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.

“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.”

You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation.

“I love being out here in the woods, with you.”

Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage. When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap.

“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-”

You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling.

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours.

Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete.

“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight.

#fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #Marvel x Y/N #x men #x men fanfiction #Logan #logan x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #reader insert

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stagefoureddiediaz · 3 years ago

Text

So my costume Meta post seems to have been received in a way I never expected, thank you for all the comments etc in the tags, the reboots and the likes, I’m blushing at your kindness ☺️☺️ but also pleased I’ve been able to give you guys some new perspective on costuming and start some discourse through the knowledge I gained when I worked in costume design and my ongoing ADHD hyperfixation on this wee woo show!

With that in mind I thought I’d look at season 5 in a bit more detail and add a few more things you might all find interesting! I’m going to try and do a full look at costuming for each character as and when I can, but Buck is the easiest to write about because they’re really not being subtle with him at all 😂

That being said before I deep dive into buck a couple of asides to give you food for thought -Chris has generally been dressed more formally when around Ana this season, the big exception being the poisonous creatures tee(it’s so much fun to telegraph information through graphic tees and kids wear them most frequently!), who conversely became less formally attired as her relationship with Eddie deteriorated!

Anyway back to Buck;

We’ve seen him in a lot of hoodies since the shooting (including when he was taking care of Chris in 4x13/14). Hoodies represent warmth and comfort - think hugs- they are an allegory for the type of relationship he’s looking for, why he’s trying to find - the comfort and familiarity of family, we never see him in them when he’s with Tay Kay - only with Eddie or when he’s alone and this serves to make the void in his life (empty lonely appartment etc) bigger and more obvious. They’re also a way of self soothing (when you don’t have the above) and I think we’ll continue to see Bucks hoodie collection until the fallout from the shooting and the will and the unacknowledged feelings he has for Eddie are resolved. I’ll be interested to see if the hoodies become less constricting at this point as the ones he’s currently wearing are well fitted, not loose and baggy like truly comfortable hoodies are!

We’ve seen him a lot more ‘buttoned up’ this season - more formal jumpers and shirts which are buttoned up (if you think back to many of the button shirts he wears throughout previous seasons they’re open over a t- shirt making them less formal) showing he’s not fully comfortable, not being his true self and presenting a specific version of himself to the world. That these generally take place as significant moments, there is the scene at Chimney and Maddies when he’s keeping info from Chim, but they’re mostly with Tay Kay-(he’s had on the patterned shirts I spoke of in my last post) we can infer that he’s not his full true comfortable self with her - he’s holding back and remaining ‘buttoned up’ because he doesn’t fully trust her (all things show by his body language as well).

For Buck his uniform is armour - we heard him say it to Bobby in 3x06. That he’s wearing an LAFD hoodie when talking with Tay Kay about the firefam is important - he’s armoured up in what should be a domestic and comfortable moment with his girlfriend, but his walls are up, again, showing a lack of trust in her.

- Interestingly Tay Kay is in pink (more on pink later)and with bare arms - she is feminine and comfortable - we are seeing her true self - we are meant to read what she says as truth. Tellingly the shade of pink is one associated with, love (either young not fully developed love or the long-standing love of the ages that has mellowed through the passing of time - BT is definitely the former 🤣), children and Barbie - she isn’t mature (when it comes to the give and take of relationships) and is superficial, it makes what she says and her lack of empathy or attempts at understanding Buck and where he’s coming from even more awkward.

The other thing to note is the colour choices - all of the tones we’ve seen buck in have been rich colours that are autumnal - russets, mustard/ochre yellows - or dark tones (charcoal grey hoodie I’m looking at you) suggesting that this phase is nearing its end, the exception (and it’s not really the exception because the shade is a rich shade that fits with Bucks colour ways this season) is the pink jumper he’s wearing when Chim hits him. I spoke in the other post about red being a colour of mother’s and buck wearing pink when he’s stepping into a parenting role - it’s similar here. Except this time it is also a colour of love - he’s reflecting both his protective nature and Maddies - he is not the parent in this situation, he’s the sibling/uncle, he is however undertaking a loving role on behalf of a parent - Maddies - protecting Chim and Jee (I’m not going to get into the rights and wrongs of this scene and how both Buck and Chim acted, it’s nuanced and has been hashed out and picked over a million times) from what(or who) she perceives to be a danger.

We see Buck in grey in the two bed scenes - grey is neutral, it represents not drawing attention to yourself, so what Buck is doing in those scenes isn’t as important as what else is - the first - Tay Kay and her lack of presence in the relationship at that moment - she’s not at ease (as denoted by the fancy lingerie - if she was truly comfortable, and at 4+ months, you’d think they would be at that point of comfort, she’d be in one of his t-shirts or proper pjamas) she’s more interested in work and technology (the tech is everywhere - tv, laptop, phone!). In the second, our focus should be on Maddie and what she is saying rather than on Buck.

Just a little aside on Eddie and the Christmas episode and that it looks like he’s going to be wearing brown when he has a conversation with Carla. Brown and earthy tones generally represent steady and dependable. Interestingly there has been some research done that suggests brown is a good colour to wear when you are open to or want to promote communication (the research showed people found those wearing brown more approachable when needing to ask questions/ for help or relay information) Eddie has maybe reached a place where he is more receptive to receiving advice and communicating what he needs or wants! I’m going to look at him and his brown wearing habits when I get round to looking at his costuming because I know he wears it a fair bit😎🤓

I’m sorry - this ended up way way longer than I thought and I have no idea how to put something under a cut when posting via the app 🤦🏻‍♀️ thanks to all the gif makers whose gif have allowed me to better display my points @prettyboyandthekid @evanbuckleydaily and @dailybuddie and also to @yramesoruniverse for double reblogging me ☺️ it encouraged me to get this post out and I’m working on more - Eddie is coming next!!

Updating to add a link to Eddie’s costume meta

#Kym’s crackpot theory #costume meta #more costume stuff!#I love you all for your response to my last post #costume theory #911 fox #911 on fox #911 spoilers #911onfox #evan buckley #buck #christopher diaz #evan buck buckley #eddie #eddie diaz #anti taylor kelly #carla price #911 season 5

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cowboy-eddie · 3 years ago

Text

Humanised

I’m a simple woman; I see a video, I see a bts photo of Eddie with his hands raised, and my mind starts thinking of all the possibilities.

(I forgot a read more but it’s here now so. Y’know. Apologies for that)

“Eddie!”

Buck’s voice echoed through the warm night air, bouncing off every fire truck and police car on scene. Hen grabbed him by the arm, Bobby right behind and Buck hiccupped as he turned to Bobby. Bobby wrapped Buck in his arms, covering his ears for a moment as Buck held in a sob. That was when they heard it.

“I’m coming out! Don’t shoot!”

Buck lifted his head, eyes widening as Eddie appeared with his hands raised. The shooter appeared shortly after, his gun still to Eddie’s head. Buck locked eyes with Eddie, internally willing him to stay calm even though he knew Eddie was military trained for situations like this.

It was different now, though. He had Christopher to think about. If he died, Shannon wouldn’t be there to-

But Buck would be. He’d keep Christopher safe. Make sure he knew he was loved.

humanised

The hostage negotiator approached Buck and Bobby, clearing her throat.

“I understand that Eddie has military training?” She said. Bobby nodded.

“He does, but he’s been going through a lot personally. We’d prefer it if we didn’t have to give him some signal and hope he got it.”

“I do have another plan. Buckley, you and Eddie are very close. I want to use that, if you’ll let me. You see, that man?”

She pointed toward the man with a gun pointed at Eddie’s head. In the headlights from the police cars, Buck could see Eddie was sweating. He wasn’t crying, but he was definitely sweating.

“That man had a family of his own. A wife, three kids. If we can work with his humanity, and humanise Eddie at the same time, we might have a chance of getting him out of this without force.”

“You mean without shooting him?” Buck snapped. Bobby glanced at Buck, whose shoulders had tensed up and his face had pinched into a tight expression.

“Yes. I want a sniper to be our last course of action, especially because Eddie was shot by one last year and that will instigate too many traumatic memories. He could become catatonic, and we need him switched on.”

Buck opened his mouth to protest, maybe tell the woman that Eddie wouldn’t dissociate like that, but he’d seen it recently. It was more likely than he’d like to admit.

“Okay. What do you want me to do?” Buck finally said.

“Come with me.”

humanised

“Hey, Rodger. My- my name is Evan Buckley. I work with LAFD and that- that guy you’ve got there? That’s my best friend, Eddie Diaz.”

Rodger’s wild eyes looked to Buck, gun pressing harder into Eddie’s temple. Buck winced, watching the way Eddie’s hands shifted from raised in surrender to behind himself. What the hell was he doing?

“What the hell do you want?” Rodger snapped. Buck swallowed.

“Rodger, listen to me. Eddie is a dad; just like you. He- he’s got a little boy. His name is Christopher. He’s ten, nearly eleven. About three years ago, Christopher lost his mom. Just like you lost your wife.”

“How did you-“

“-Rodger, tell me about your kids. You have three, right?”

Rodger blinked, the desperate glance on his face beginning to fade.

“Mackenzie, she’s uh- she’s five. And then there’s… there’s Brooklyn, she’s eight… and Jordan, he’s eleven.”

“Can you imagine how sad- no, how miserable, your kids would be, if you were in Eddie’s position? Rodger, after losing one parent… things are never the same. And I think you know that. Now imagine the pain of losing the only parent they have left.”

Buck took a step forward, pushing into the front yard despite the cops in his ear barking for him not to.

“That is how Christopher will feel.”

“And what about you? You have kids?” Rodger asked. Buck nodded.

“Yeah. I do.”

Eddie looked to him, silently agreeing with the angle Buck was going for.

“You see, Rodger, Eddie isn’t just my work partner. He’s also the first person I want to see when something exciting happens. He’s the first person I can see in a crowd because he provides comfort. There’s some science behind- uh, the idea that the first person you can see in a crowd is the one that you know will keep you safe. I read an article on it. Rodger, your kids look to you just like Christopher and I look to Eddie. Please… don’t take that away from us.”

Rodger blinked. And just like that, the gun was on the floor.

humanised

The cops flooded in, handcuffing Rodger without a second glance at Eddie. They knew the 118; Eddie was in good hands.

“Buck-“

“-it’s okay. I got you.”

Eddie stumbled down the steps, Buck catching him right as his knees gave out. Burying his face into the crook of Buck’s neck, Eddie’s entire body shook with the adrenaline of the situation.

“Is Hen okay?” He whispered. Buck pulled away from their hug, nodding.

“She’s fine. Look.”

Stepping aside, Eddie could see Hen and Bobby jogging toward them. They approached carefully, quietly, until Eddie reached for them.

“Hey, guys,” he croaked. Hen couldn’t take it anymore and hugged Eddie, her entire body relaxing as he gave in to her.

“You’re safe now, it’s okay. How about we get you to the ambulance?” She said. Eddie let her lead him away, leaving Buck and Bobby standing on the front steps.

“That was incredible, Buck. Well done,” Bobby finally said. Buck swallowed.

“What if I’d failed?” He finally said. Bobby shrugged.

“You didn’t. That’s what is important right now. Go and be with Eddie; I think he needs you.”

humanised

In the back of the ambulance, Hen kept her hand on Eddie’s back as she moved, grabbing equipment to check him over. Eddie doubled over, head between his knees. Hen watched him for a second, before she stopped what she was doing and reached for Eddie.

“It’s okay. Just focus on your breathing.”

Eddie suddenly scrambled, hauling ass out of the ambulance to find Buck who caught him at just the right time.

“Hey, hey. Sit down.”

Buck gently guided Eddie back to sit on the back of the ambulance, running a hand through his hair.

“Panic attack?” Buck asked. Eddie nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as tears streamed down his face. Watching Eddie silently cry made Buck feel like he lacked control. He felt Eddie’s fingers tangle into his uniform as he pressed against Buck’s shirt, trying to control his breathing but it was only becoming more rapid. Buck ran a hand through his hair, working out the knots from the gel and the sweat and the panic.

“Copy my breathing.”

Buck took one of Eddie’s hands and placed it on his heart. He watched Eddie’s eyebrows furrow for a moment and Hen reached for an emesis bag just in case, but Eddie seemed to collect himself.

“Can Buck stay while I get checked out?” Eddie asked Hen.

“I was actually going to suggest it,” she said. Together they got Eddie on to the stretcher in the ambulance, thanking god that he wasn’t hurt enough to need a trip to the hospital. While Hen checked Eddie over, Buck stayed by his side. His hand rested on Eddie’s thigh protectively, his gaze on the rest of the world because he was not going to let anyone hurt Eddie if he had something to say about it. Satisfied that Eddie was not in any physical danger, Hen put her stethoscope around her neck.

“I’ll go and tell Bobby everything looks okay.”

“Thanks Hen,” Buck and Eddie murmured. She closed the ambulance doors behind her, granting the two some privacy. The second she was gone Eddie was scrambling off the stretcher to hug Buck. Buck wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, sighing as his shoulders released all the tension he’d been feeling. He felt Eddie’s entire body slowly stop shaking, his head against Buck’s shoulder. Buck cupped the back of his neck.

“Ready to go home?”

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

#9-1-1 #911 #911 on fox #9-1-1 on fox #Evan Buckley #Buck #Eddie Diaz #Henrietta Wilson #Hen Wilson #Bobby Nash #Firefam #TW: panic attacks #panic attack #hostage situation #tw guns

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starryeyedrookie · 3 years ago

Text

Before It’s Too Late (Ethan x MC)

Book: Set during book 2 ch. 11.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Evelyn Long)

Word count: 1,996

Rating: General

Category: Angst

Summary: An attack scene rewrite when Ethan spends the night with MC.

A/N: Characters and some dialogue owned by Pizelberry.

I finally decided how I was going to write this rewrite. Initially I was trying to do a full chapter rewrite but half way through, I was already at 3k+ words so it would be waaaay to long. Thankfully, I managed to summarize it but also give it a ton of angst. (This was my first time writing angst btw.) I hope you enjoy!

8:30 pm

It's been exactly five hours since the attack. Five excruciatingly long hours since Evelyn’s world was turned upside down.

Travis, Senator Ed’s assistant, had slowly been poisoning him with lead. When they went to confront him, he pulled out a can and sprayed everyone in the room with a deadly unknown substance.

The Senator managed to escape and Travis was dead. But so was Bobby, with Danny fighting for his life.

Evelyn begins to cry again as she thinks about Bobby’s wife and two kids that he left behind. They would now have to grow up without their dad. He would miss so many big milestones in their lives all because of two selfish people.

“E-Evelyn…?” a weak voice calls from across the room.

She walks over to the bed where Raf is lying down, a light sheen of sweat covering his pale face.

The team had come a little while ago with a shot that they had hoped would slow the progression of their symptoms, but Raf’s still seemed to be getting worse.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, gently wiping the tears from her face.

“I was just… thinking about Bobby’s family and… everything that he… would miss. He was… just telling me… this morning that… his oldest daughter is turning sixteen this year…”

“I know… life isn’t fair. They didn’t deserve any of this.”

“You didn’t either, Raf.”

“But I saved you from having to suffer so much… and that’s what matters.”

“Raf…”

“Shh… listen, I feel… like I’m… getting worse. Will you… do me a favour?”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

“Please help me call my vovo.”

Evelyn hands Raf his phone to unlock, then scrolls through his contacts until she sees his grandmother’s name, tapping it, she places the phone to his ear.

“Olá, vovo.”

“No… I’m not well. There was an attack at the hospital today and the Senator’s assistant tried to kill him. A few people were in the room when it happened. The Senator escaped, but his assistant and one person that works here died and the other is in critical condition. Evelyn and I are in quarantine right now.”

“I just wanted to let you know… that if I… don’t make it… I love you with all my heart.”

“Alright, take care. I love you too.”

“Thank you, Evelyn.” he takes a shaky breath, his heart rate slowing and growing more shallow.

“Evelyn… I think you should… call the team… I'm sorry I couldn't save you… that this… might be the way it ends…” he murmurs, eyes meeting hers, as warm and kind as the day they met.

Taking his hand, she can barely see him through her tears.

“You'll make it through this Raf… I know you will…”

He smiles up at her before his eyes flutter closed and his hand falls away.

Moments later Ethan and June rush into the room.

“I’d hoped that the treatment would buy us more time,” Ethan says sadly.

“We don’t know that it didn’t.” Evelyn tries reassuring him.

He nods as June’s eyes fill with sympathy.

“We’ll get him to the support suite. There’s still a chance that we could fix this Evelyn.” June tells her, as she prepares Rafael for transport.

Evelyn’s almost too scared to ask, but she needs to know. “How’s Danny?”

“We… we lost him.” Ethan’s voice comes out in a whisper.

“No…”

“Before he died he… he asked to be autopsied. To help the two of you.”

As Ethan turns to help June, Evelyn reports Raf’s most recent symptom of hot cold reversal.

“Stay strong, Evelyn. We’ll know more soon.” June tells her reassuringly as she and Ethan slowly push Raf out of the room.

Now she’s all alone, curled up on her bed, the pressure in her head becoming almost too much to bear.

Her mind drifts to Danny. She remembers her first day when he was the one that told her that she had just performed a thoracotomy with Ethan Ramsey. The night of the party her roommates had when he and Sienna talked all night until they fell asleep together on the couch.

Sienna. All Evelyn wanted to do was rush to her side and hold her. She and Danny were supposed to be together. They were meant for each other. But how he was gone, and Sienna would have to live with that loss. She probably never even got to say goodbye.

Goodbye. Evelyn had to be prepared.

Picking up her phone, she sees that she has several missed calls and messages.

Calling her mom, she picks up immediately.

“Evelyn sweetie! Are you okay?! Oh my goodness, we saw what happened on the news and I thought we lost you!”

Hearing her mom’s voice, her tears start falling again.

“I’m hanging in there right now mom. It’s just me in the room now. Rafael just got taken to the support suite.”

“Oh, sweetie…”

“Mom… is everyone there?”

“Yes, honey. We’re all here.”

“Can you put me on speaker please?”

“Hey Evey.” she hears her dad’s voice say.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi Evelyn, do they know what it is yet?

“Hi Ben, no they don’t. We got a shot earlier that was supposed to slow the progression of the symptoms, but we don’t have a cure yet.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, guys… if I don’t make it…”

“No Evelyn! You can’t say that!” her heart breaks as she hears Ben crying through the phone.

“Wait… just listen to me. I’m preparing for the worst. I want you guys to know… that I love you all so much. And I want to thank you for everything that you’ve done to help me fulfill my dreams.”

Aside from the sound of soft cries, the line is silent.

Finally, her dad speaks up.

“We love you too sweetie. Stay strong and hang in there. You’ll be fine.”

“I’ll try… take care.”

“Bye.”

Later, her friends and the diagnostics team are gathered outside her window. Bryce looks at her with haunted eyes while a crying Sienna buries her face in Jackie’s shoulder.

“How’s Kyra? The surgery must be over by now…”

“She’s fine and resting. We haven’t told her what happened yet.”

“Good idea.”

“So, do you know what it is yet?”

Ethan explains to her that it’s a maitotoxin that he had never seen before. It was still present in Danny’s bony postmortem and on the surface of his skin.

Processing the information, the realization hits Evelyn like a ton of bricks.

“Maitotoxin… that’s derived from parasites in fish, isn’t it? But… there’s no antidote so… I’m going to die here…” her voice now barely a whisper. “I can’t believe this. Today was supposed to be happy. Kyra was supposed to have a successful surgery and everything was supposed to be fine… but now Danny’s dead, Raf is in a coma, and I’m… I’m…” Evelyn buries her face in her hands as she begins to cry.

“Now isn’t the time to give up hope Evelyn. Because of Raf’s actions, you didn’t get much in your system so your symptoms aren’t as advanced. There may not be an antidote as yet, but I promise you that we’ll be working round-the-clock to synthesize one.” Ethan tries to sound as confident as he can, his heart breaking to see Evelyn hurting.

“You won’t be alone.”

Everyone turns around to see that the statement had come from Tobias, as he, and several Mass Kenmore doctors approached them, all prepared to do whatever it takes.

As everyone heads down to the lab, Ethan lingers behind at the window.

“Are you okay, Ethan?”

“No, Evelyn, I’m not okay. But you don’t need to hear about that. You should try and get some rest. Have you slept at all?”

“No. I can’t stop thinking about Rafael. How long he can last… whether… whether it’s already…”

“…Do you want me to stay for a while?”

“Yes, please. If this is my last night alive, I want to spend it with you.”

“If I was in your position, I’d feel the same way about you.”

“Really?”

“Really, Evelyn.”

Suiting up and entering the room, he gently guides her to the bed.

“Now lie down. I know it sounds impossible, but I need you to relax and try to think about something happy.”

As she lies down, Ethan gently pulls up the covers around her.

“Something happy like what it would be like if we went on a date?”

“If that’s what makes you happy then sure.”

Her happiness leaves as quickly as it came.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just feel like there are so many things that I should have done.”

“Like what?”

“I should have loved more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent the last decade focusing on college, med school, work, always guarding my heart because I might be in another city the next year. It makes me wonder… what could have been,” she confesses sadly.

Ethan is quiet for a long moment.

“Since we’re sharing regrets, do you mind if I share one of mine?”

“Go ahead.”

Reaching across, Ethan’s gloved hand finds hers.

“I wish I hadn’t asked you to stay away.”

“You do?” she asks surprised.

“We’ve wasted so much time. I’ve wasted so much time. I should have held you in my arms every day and told you how much I… how much I love you.”

“Ethan?”

“Shh… I just needed you to know… that no matter what happens… I love and care about you more than I can ever tell you.”

“I love you too, Ethan.”

“You do?”

“Of course! I thought you knew that already.”

“I did. It’s just so wonderful to hear you say it.”

“I wish I could kiss you.”

“Soon. You will soon.”

Joining her on the bed, he wraps his bulky arms around her as eyes begin to flutter closed.

“Evelyn? Can you please look at me?”

“Hmm?”

Forcing her eyes open, she looks at him through his helmet.

“Promise me that you’ll keep fighting. That you won’t give up. Oh, Evelyn… our story’s only just begun and it can’t end here. Please… please promise me.”

“…I… promise,” she whispers before falling asleep.

The next morning she wakes up to excruciating pain in her stomach. Doubling over, Ethan reaches across from the chair for her.

“It’s okay Evelyn, you’ll be alright!”

Feeling weaker than ever, she can barely make out the blurry figures running to her window.

“Evelyn! We did it!” Aurora shouts.

“Huh?”

Baz and June enter the room with the antidote as Tobias explains how they did it.

“What about Raf? He’s much sicker than I am…”

“We administered it to him, but too far there’s been no chance. It’s possible we’re already too late.” Sienna gloomily reveals.

“But he hasn’t gotten any worse, that has to mean something!” Elijah adds.

As Ethan gently injects the serum into her vein, he whispers into her ear.

“Hang in there, Evelyn.”

Over the next several anxious hours, June comes regularly to take her blood.

Slowly, her blood pressure stabilizes and the nausea begins to fade.

As Evelyn looks around, she realizes that the room no longer looks blurry.

“Get up.”

She turns around to see a hazmat suit free Ethan stroll into the room with a big smile on his face.

“You mean…”

“It worked. There’s no trace of toxin left in your bloodstream. Even if there are still traces in the room, we know now that we can-”

“Oh!”

Evelyn flies into Ethan's arms pulling him into a tight hug.

“…What you’re saying is I’m finally free to do this?”

“Yes. This too.”

He leans down capturing her lips in a passionate kiss as tears fall down both of their faces.

“Ethan, aren’t you worried that someone will see?”

“No. After almost losing you, I’ve decided that there are more important things to worry about than what people will think. I love you with all my heart, Evelyn Long.”

Through her tears, she smiles up at him.

“I love you too, Ethan.”

{Two Weeks Later}

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wearywinchester · 3 years ago

Text

Something Old and Something New — Part Two

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When life takes a turn and you take an unexpected break from college in Stanford with your best friend Sam, you return home to your job at your family’s co-owned garage. You return home to work alongside the guy you thought you hated—Dean Winchester.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff

Three weeks.

It’d been three weeks since you’d arrived back home in Kansas for an amount of time you don’t know if you’ve decided on yet. Three weeks of wondering the right way to tell Sam just how you felt about law school in actuality. Because since you’ve been back, you found it harder and harder to want to leave like you had planned to eventually.

Putting things off rapidly became your specialty when it came to this you’ve noticed, the very thoughts in your mind having revolved around this very subject yet you still can’t find it in yourself to pick up your textbook and study like you said you would. You’ve got a year left, you keep reminding yourself of that. A year before you finish and get your degree, a year before you can pack that up and put that chapter of your life behind you if you so pleased to do so.

But when you thought more about it, the worse it sounded as you mulled it over. Another year of doing something that didn’t make you as happy as it should. Studying law wasn’t something you believed to be thrilling even to the most eager student out there, even to Sam. You’ve caught him on more than one occasion throwing his textbook across his room. It was a complicated profession to study, one with a million endless words to read through and fully grasp should you want to be a success.

You wanted to be, but maybe you wanted to be a success in something else.

Your mind had been swimming with thought after thought on the matter, but apart from that things weren’t so bad. It hasn’t taken you long to settle back into your apartment, the place you’ve been missing ever since you left to go back to college a few months ago. It was a contrast to your place with Sam, housing quite a few more of your personal belongings. It was a place that’s all your own, and not that you didn’t love Sam’s company, but it was nice to come home to have time for yourself.

Even if you didn’t live an extraordinarily eventful life, you were content with your own company.

Things had fallen back into place at the garage over those last few weeks, some days far busier than others. Things were a bit different with Dean since that first day back. Not that he hasn’t been up to his usual tricks, not that the two of you hadn’t still bickered over trivial things like you’d done with each other for the better part of twenty-four years. That was still very much a part of your daily schedule and you don’t know if that’ll ever change.

But there was something different, something you couldn’t quite figure out.

The moment you saw the lack of cars in the parking lot when you’d pulled in you knew you were in for a day, could tell by the way the green eyed Winchester had leaned against the counter with his arms folded over his chest when you walked in the door with a squinting gaze.

“You’re late,” he says, head tilted and brow raised.

“No, you’re just always early,” you say.

He chuckles then, looking away from a moment before turning back to you, an expression on his face you knew all too well.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, tone cautious as you cross your own arms over your chest, keys jingling in the otherwise quiet garage.

The corner of his mouth quirks up at your words, something that only deepens the crease between your brows when you see it. You knew it meant nothing good, it had to, he doesn’t smile like that unless it’s something you don’t want to hear.

“Benny and Bobby went out to check out a new sign for the shop, ‘s just you and me today,” he says, his arms falling to his sides to slip his hands in his pockets.

Your eyes roll immediately, more so at the contentment filling his expression. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” he says, pushing himself off the counter. “You were the one complainin’ about the sign anyway.”

You purse your lips at his words, ones that were very true but it didn’t help your cause for him to be right this time. It was doing the exact opposite and the grin sitting smug on his lips was more than telling that he knew exactly that.

“And,” he started, your sigh immediate as you tip your head back. “It’s a slow day today, so you get to help me work on Baby.”

“I don’t think I ever offered to help,” you said, putting your keys on the hook and your bag under your desk.

“Lucky for you, you didn’t have to,” he says, nothing but teasing in his tone as he reaches over the counter and swipes the candy from your jar.

“It’s 9 o’clock in the morning and you’re already steaming my stuff,” you say, huffing as you sway his hand away before he can get any more.

“Be in the shop in five, sweetheart!” He calls over his shoulder, finger pointed in the air in the direction of the clock before he disappeared around the corner.

It was hot, hotter than you’d like as you worked that day. The garage doors were open and the fan was on high, but the summer heat was proving to be just a little more persistent than your efforts. The radio had been turned up just a little louder than it would have been if Bobby had been there that day, a little louder than it would be had it been busier. All of the good classics had been playing in a steady list of hits all morning, Dean’s humming accompanying it along with a string of lyrics every so often.

Your hand stayed pressed to the wheel as you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, returning your focus to tightening the very last lug-nut on the wheel.

“I gotta say, I’m impressed,” Dean says, muffled before he leans out from under the hood to look at you for a moment.

You miss the way he looks at you, at the way it’s far too easy for him to become distracted with the way your tongue pokes out in concentration or the smudge of grease on your cheek. You miss the beginnings of a smile on his lips before he ducks back down to work under the hood of his car.

“I know more about cars than you think, Dean,” you say, standing to your feet and wiping your hands on your jeans. “‘Sides, rotating tires isn’t rocket science.”

The smile he had widened a fraction, his head shaking as he leaned over the front end. It was only a matter of seconds before you heard a series of metallic clatters, a string of curses leaving Dean’s lips that had him huffing in irritation. You walked over to him with a raised brow, watching as he fished around somewhere under the hood blindly, his nose scrunched and his lip curled up as he struggled to reach what he was looking for.

He pulled his arm back out, empty handed and his knuckles were scraped an angry red as grease smudged darkly around them.

“What is it?”

“I dropped my wrench and the freakin’ thing is stuck,” he huffs, running his hands over his face. “I’m gonna need you to reach in there and get it.”

Your brow remained raised, eyeing his hand before your gaze flickers back up to his.

“C’mon, Y/n. Your hands are smaller than mine.” You roll your eyes at his words, peering over into the spot he’d been rooting around in before he spoke up once more. “Be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, shooing him away as you catch sight of the tool glimmering brightly amongst everything else.

A huff leaves your lips as you try and figure out how to maneuver around everything just so you could get to it, your other hand pressing to the edge of the car to steady your balance. You could see just a little better than him but not anything significant, and you find yourself patting around in hopes your fingertips land on what you’re hoping to grab. Your luck was rapidly becoming the same as Dean’s when you came up short, though you might just top his.

The moment you moved your hand down further was proving to be a mistake— you may have grabbed the tool you’d set out to look for but the feel of something you hadn’t seen ran sharp and unforgiving along the side of your hand. It sent a jolt of pain through you as you gasped, a soft yelp sounding as that same metallic clatter happened a second time.

Dean turned his head, the sight of your scrunched face having him cross the garage in a few bounding steps.

“Ouch!” You groan, pulling your hand out and groaning.

“What happened?” He asked, eyes bouncing from you to his car before returning to you.

“I scratched my hand on your car, Dean. What’s it look like?” You say, squeezing your hand in hopes that it’d make it hurt less, even if it was just a little bit better.

“Dammit!” Dean says the moment he sees your hand, the moment he sees the scarlet smudging around the scratch you refused to let him see to avoid this kind of reaction. “Y/n I told you to be careful!”

You could hear the frustration in his tone loud and clear, and if you hadn’t fed off of that very same frustration you’d be able to see that there was something different in the way that he looked at you. You didn’t know the way worry clouded his mind in that moment, or the flash of fear that ran through him when he’d first heard you gasp. But you didn’t, you did what you knew best when it came to Dean Winchester—you bickered.

“Okay, well that’s not helping me now!” You argue, your good hand wrapping around the other as you hold them to your chest. Your cheeks burned under his stare, narrowed and discontented. “And I was careful, by the way. Don’t worry, your pretty car is fine.”

“Y/n, you’re freakin’ bleeding, okay?” He says, voice still loud and still frustrated but the worry on his face was clear. “And don’t be ridiculous.”

“‘M fine,” you huff, turning away from him. You made it all but two steps before he spoke up, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/n wait,” he said, voice softer than before. When you turn back, you can see the dimples at the corners of his mouth and you can see the flare in his nostrils—you can see the softer look in his eyes. You could see the bit of hesitation he held onto in that moment. “Let me patch you up.”

You shifted on your feet, a quiet huff leaving your lips. “Dean, I can do it myself.”

He shook his head, a laugh leaving his lips as he brushed past you to head into the garage. “C’mon.”

You rolled your eyes when he walked ahead of you, hopping over the counter by your front desk, patting your seat with a smile on his lips. You sit down as he squats to rifle through the cabinets, grabbing the peroxide and blindly putting the bottle on the counter. He snagged a fresh towel and a few gauze, a wrap and a few bandages that was a bit more than necessary.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this thing stocked with first aid supplies before,” you say, a laugh in your words as you feign surprise.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, standing to his feet as he sets the other stuff down. “Benny just might be even more clumsy than you. I gotta be honest, I never thought that’d be possible.”

“Would it kill you to be nice just once, Winchester?” You ask, squinting up at him as you bite the inside of your cheek.

He pretends to ponder the question just to get on your nerves, just to see you frown the way you do because he knows it never lasts long. You know he’s got something to say, can see it by the way his smile returns. “I like to think I’m very nice. But for you, maybe it’ll kill me.”

You lips pursed and your jaw clenches, his head tilting as he flashes you his award winning mocking smile. You could feel that same frustration from just minutes ago bubbling in your stomach, the urge to grab the supplies from the counter and do it yourselves having grown almost too much. But the moment he looks at you, all teasing aside, his gaze just a little bit softer, a little bit more intense, that’s what has you changing your mind.

He sits down on the other chair, his thighs parted so he could scoot closer to you to make things all the more easier and much less cumbersome. “Let me see what you got goin’ on, butterfingers.”

You give him an exasperated look before you glance down at the hand you still held close to your chest, eyeing the crimson smeared on the fingers of your other hand. It throbbed and it burned, the grease on your hands surely doing you no favors. But, with all the hesitancy in the world you pulled your hand from your chest and extended it out towards him, cheeks burning at the sight of it because it looked much worse than you thought it did. Much more than you played it off as not more than five minutes prior.

His brows furrowed as he took your hand, turning it to get a better look.

“Baby really got you good, didn’t she?” He hummed, grabbing the towel he’d gotten before pushing himself up to his feet to go wet it at the sink.

Your gaze cast downward at the cut running jagged along the outer side of your hand, swiping your finger along it in an attempt to brush away some of the dirt still smudged on your skin.

“Don’t do that,” Dean says, sitting down in front of you once more.

You roll your eyes as you sigh, eyes bouncing up to catch the way he bit the inside of his cheek as he looked downwards and shook his head, green eyes flickering up just briefly in time to catch your gaze.

“Have you always been this bossy?” You ask, watching as he takes your hand in his, gentle as he turns it.

“Oh, shut up,” he says, but you don’t miss the way the corner of his mouth quirks up, a smile he tries to hide as he swipes his tongue over his lips.

He takes the dampened towel in his other hand, careful as he blots and presses it over the wound, the once clean fabric now stained a crimson as he swiped it over your hand. His eyes look up at the way you tense, brief and wordless and he saw the way your lip sat between your teeth, at the way you’ve got your brows knit together. But he looked away before you could notice, lightening his touch before he cleaned away the dirt and blood on your other hand.

He set the towel on his lap, snagging the bottle of peroxide before flipping the cap open with his thumb.

“This is gonna hurt, sweetheart,” he mumbles, looking up when he hears the softness of your laughter. “What?”

You shrug your shoulders, your hand still enveloped in his own. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me that in a way that wasn’t sarcastic.”

Your tone was full of faux shock, near theatrical as you pressed your free hand to your heart, one that made him roll his eyes immediately.

“Don’t get used to it,” he says, but you can hear the lighthearted tone he held. You nudged his boot with your shoe, heaving a sigh.

He moved his hand to hold yours a little more comfortably, the cold metal of his ring brushing across your skin. It brought you back to the current moment, but not quite as much as the clear liquid pouring over your skin, stinging and burning as it bubbled white over your irritated wound. A gasp sounded then, your brows furrowing once more.

“A little heads up would’ve been nice!” You say, nearly pulling your hand from his grasp.

“I did,” he says, offering a teasing smile.

You slump back in your seat with a huff as he releases your hand for a moment, for the first time in what feels like ages, ripping open a bandage before returning his attention back to you and the task at hand. He pressed it over the length of the cut on your hand, the one that still burned from the peroxide just a mere minute before.

It was then that your gaze fell on him, at the crease between his brows as he tried his best to keep from causing any more pain unbeknownst to you. At the sweat beaded across his freckled cheeks and nose from the warm summer heat, a single drop of it having trailed down to the very tip of it. As if you’d shared the same thoughts, he’d paused his actions and grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging it upwards to swipe across his face.

It was a matter of moments before he’d begun wrapping gauze around your hand, tearing it free from its roll with his teeth before tucking the loose end into itself.

“You’re good as new,” he says, looking up to meet your gaze.

You felt your cheeks burn at the fact that it became apparent to him that you’d already been looking, something you knew you should stop doing but for the life of you, you couldn’t.

Your eyes bounced over every inch of his face to avoid his gaze— at the slight raise of his brow, at the sweat accumulating on his cheeks once more, at the freckles smattering across his nose and more importantly, more distractingly, the freckle sitting pretty on his lips. You knew that the longer you averted his eyes the more foolish you looked, and right now you were batting a thousand at doing just that.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and words, whatever they may have, been sat on the very tip of your tongue and it became increasingly more obvious that your hand was still in his. The closeness of your proximity wasn’t far behind that either.

It was then that your phone rang, pulling your attention as your hand fell from his grasp. You sat for a moment longer, flustered, before you pushed your chair from him to reach it, the smile on your face evident.

He watched that smile grow as you pressed the phone to your ear, the rest of your attention rapidly becoming stolen for the time being.

“Sam!” You say when you answer.

At first, you miss the way Dean swallowed thickly, still sitting in the same spot. But it’s the muffled squeak of the chair’s wheels rolling across the concrete floor that had you glancing over at him, seeing the familiar furrow of his brows that was more than just nothing, at the tension heavy in his jaw as he looked away from you. You watched him while you listened to Sam, at the way he swept off the trash and crinkled it in his fist, tossing it in the garbage before disappearing around the corner.

His change in mood wasn’t lost on you, but it was something you quickly pushed from your mind with mere confusion when Sam repeated your name what had to be two or three times.

—

It was much cooler that evening as the clouds started to accumulate, the sun dipping low enough to stave off the heat that hung heavy in the air. The sunshine that did peek through the windows, broken into stripes by your blinds had painted everything it landed on a deep orange, dimming the later it’d gotten.

You sighed as you rinsed off your dishes from dinner, loading everything in the dishwasher for the night. When the doorbell rings your brows furrow, gaze shifting to the clock on the microwave. 8:14 pm.

You dry your hands on a tea towel, trying your best to avoid your bandages as you smoothed down your clothes, heading to the front door in curiosity to who could have been at your door at this time of day.

When you unlock the door and open it a crack, the crease between your brows deepens, the door opening wider once you see who’s standing on the other side of it.

“Dean?”

He stood there, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. He’s got a change of clothes on now, a pair of jeans on that have a rip in one of the knees and a t-shirt that’s free of black grease stains and sweat. And despite the summer weather he’s got a flannel on over top the sleeves rolled up to his elbows in true Dean Winchester fashion. But perhaps the most noticeable thing was the half-smile he wore as he looked at you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, leaning against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

“You uh—you left this at work today,” he says, lifting his hand as your sweater dangled from the tip of his finger.

You laughed softly at the sight of it, eyes rolling at the sight of the sweater you never failed to show up with should you get cold at work or anywhere you are. Odds are, you didn’t need it most times but sometimes you do.

You tilt your head and raise your brow, knowing full well that he himself knew he could have just left it there overnight.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted an excuse to come and see me.” He rolls his eyes then, tossing the sweater at you as his lips purse. “Spit it out, Winchester.”

“Just wanted to see how your hand’s holdin’ up, that’s all,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as he glances down at the bandage still wrapped around your hand. It’s got a few dirt smudges on it from his hands earlier that day, but that was the least of your concerns.

“‘M fine, Dean.”

He nods, hands stuffed in his pockets before his brows furrow.

“You still haven’t unpacked?” He asks, and you follow his gaze to the suitcase and duffel bags still sitting where they’d been in the corner by the doorway. The same spot you’d left them the day you came back home.

You turn back to him, breathing out a sigh. “It’s a long story.”

“I got time,” he says, the corner of his mouth turning upwards into a half smile.

“Is this your way of inviting yourself inside, Dean?”

“Is it working?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you squint up at him, a few moments passing before you let out a huff and step to the side as his grin widens.

“Nice place. Who would’ve thought you’ve got decent taste,” he says, closing the door behind him.

“That’s not exactly a compliment, you know.”

“Isn’t it?” He says, eyeing the records you’ve got stacked by the tv.

You shake your head as you make your way to your kitchen, opening the fridge to grab two beers off the shelf. When you spin on your heel you find him leaning against the little kitchen table you’ve got, his gaze bouncing around the room as if to take everything in as his fingers tap against the hardwood.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before,” he says, taking it from your outstretched hand.

“I’ve tried to keep it that way,” you jest, catching the way he laughs at first, his expression falling neutral once he realizes your words before he follows you out to your back porch.

It’s quiet when you take a seat, the colors of the sunset becoming more muted the lower the sun dips into the horizon. It’s become routine for you to come out here in the evenings, taking a moment for yourself to unwind at the end of the day. Your apartment back with Sam doesn’t have a backyard, not even a balcony though you suppose it wasn’t quite so bad. But it wasn’t this.

He took a seat by you, cracking open his beer and taking a long swig or two as he looked out at the trees.

“I wasn’t worried about you ruining my car earlier, you know,” he says after a few beats of silence.

You laugh softly to yourself, nodding at his words. “Either you’ve gotten good at lying, or you really mean that.”

“What do you think?” He asks, amusement in his tone.

“With you, I can never tell.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” he says, nudging your foot with his boot as he shakes his head and looks forward.

You knew he meant it, by the way he’d looked at you when he said it you knew he did. Dean Winchester might not outright say how he’s feeling unless it’s in the form of his teasing at you in particular, but his looks give it away every single time.

“So why did you come back,” he asks, tipping his head back and taking a sip from his beer. You chuckle at the question, soft and half of humor, half not. “Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad.”

You tilt your head as you look at him, lips pursed for a moment as you shake your head. You were hesitant as you mulled it over in your head, but you found there was no use in playing it off. There was no way around it.

“It doesn’t exactly feel good being a twenty-four year old running away from college to come back home because they decide they don’t like the degree they’re studying a year before graduation. ‘Sides, I also ran back to a job where I’m stuck working with a green eyed dork,” you say, eyes glimmering with mischief as you hide your smile behind your beer bottle.

“Speak for yourself, I’m a joy to be around!” He scoffs into his own bottle, his smile in his voice. You sigh, resting your head against the back of your chair as your eyes fall closed for a moment. “It ain’t that bad. Can’t blame you for leaving if you didn’t like it.”

“Whatever you say, Winchester.”

It’s quiet save for his chuckle, the crickets singing and the lightning bugs flashing whenever they so pleased amongst the backyard.

“Have you told Sam?” He asks after a little while, watching as you pick at the label on the tinted bottle.

“No,” you say, softer as you exhale a sigh. “Not yet.”

“Wow,” he says, brows raised slightly in surprise as he nods. “I thought you told him everything.”

There’s a laugh in his words, quiet and it held something a little different than humor, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on but you didn’t question it too much as he looked at his feet.

“Yeah, well, not this,” you say, swiping your tongue over your lips as you thought about just how you were supposed to do it. You didn’t know. “Speaking of Sam, why’d you get all broody when he called earlier?”

“Broody?” He asks, brow raised slightly.

“Yeah. You had that pout goin’ on like you do when you sulk.”

He chuckles then, shaking his head as he fumbles and twists the bottle in his hands. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n/n.”

You only nod, eyeing that look on his face.

“He’s coming up here to visit in a couple weeks,” you say, your smile evident the more you talk about it. The more you think about you the more your face lights up. The more you beam.

That’s what it was.

The thing that had him all broody. He sees the way your face lights up when you talk about him, when you talk to him. He sees that smile, the one that makes him weak in the knees so much that he’d never ever admit it because there isn’t ever a reason to. Because you smile just like that over his brother. He doesn’t even have to be there for you to do it. He gets it though, he does.

He was excited to see his baby brother, there was no doubt in that, but he couldn’t help the feeling that was simmering in the pit of his stomach.

His mouth opens and closes once, words sitting on the tip of his tongue. He clears his throat then, glancing at the watch on his wrist.

“I uh—I gotta head home. Wanna get an early start tomorrow,” he says, standing to his feet.

“Oh,” you say, watching as he flashes you a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding as he stands there and looks at you a moment more. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

You watch as he slips through the door and back into your apartment, setting his empty bottle in the sink before walking out of view. It wasn’t long before you heard the rumble of his car when he started it as you sat by yourself on your back porch, that familiar rumble heightening as he put it in drive before he drove off.

You bit the inside of your cheek then, resting your head against the back of your chair as you sighed. You sighed because as you sat there by yourself, you found yourself wishing maybe he’d have stayed a little bit longer.

—

Series Taglist: @myloversgone @colereads @stoneyggirl2

General Taglist: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath

#dean winchester #dean winchester series #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic

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half-bakedboy · 3 years ago

Text

it’s okay (not to be okay)

(read on ao3)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.”

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff.

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do.

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.)

___________________________

[From: Ana]

Eddie had a panic attack and was taken to the hospital. He’s okay, but he’s struggling, Buck. I can’t get through to him, but I think you can.

[From: Ana]

He doesn’t want anyone to know. Chris had to tell the doctor he was shot. I don’t know what to do.

[From: Ana]

He just dropped me off at my house. Maybe someone should check on him later?

Buck stared down at the messages on his phone, panic thrumming through his body with each passing moment. He ran his fingers through his hair and held in the breath he had sharply inhaled to hold back his own alarm. It was a feeling he was used to, one that he grew to absorb and hold back because he couldn’t let it interfere with his life, his job. He needed a clear head and when he didn’t have one, the panic would become too much to handle, a cross he couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself bear.

Eddie didn’t panic. Eddie was the one who didn’t make rash decisions, who thought through everything before he acted, who kept everyone else calm in each crisis the team had. His level head made him an amazing soldier, a phenomenal firefighter, an ideal father, and… well, everything Buck had ever wanted to be.

So to say he was worried about Ana’s texts was an understatement.

He held his phone up to his ear and when the sound of Eddie’s voice rung through the speaker, he deflated. The familiar sound of Eddie’s always professional voicemail pissed him off more than anything so he wasn’t about to give up. He dialed the other number saved into his favorites and after a few rings, rustling sounded through.

“Buck?” Christopher asked, voice muffled with sleep. Buck checked the time on his watch and sighed.

“I’m sorry, buddy, you go to sleep. I was just trying to reach—”

“Dad’s not gonna answer.”

Christopher said the words so matter-of-factly that Buck felt his heartbeat speed up.

“You think so? Why is that?”

“He told me and Ana not to tell anyone,” Christopher began.

Buck could hear his pout and he wanted to ruffle his hair and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he had to convince himself of it first. Christopher could see right through him and he wasn’t willing to have the kid lose sleep over his own nerves.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Buck promised, “but can you let me know what your dad is doing right now?”

“He’s in bed. He didn’t even take a shower and he loves showers,” Christopher exaggerated. Buck let out a huff of laughter.

“You’re observant, you know that?” A few moments of silence passed and even through the phone, Buck could hear Christopher’s worry. “Hey, he’s okay, right?”

“I think so.” He didn’t sound sure.

“Well, both Ana and I are looking after him and you know who else is?” Buck asked.

“Who?” Christopher whispered. His breathing was starting to slow, his voice sounding even more muffled as he slowly lulled himself to sleep.

“ You . He’s okay because he has you, just like he always has, got it?”

“Got it,” Chris agreed quietly. “Love you, Buck,” he added.

The line went dead before Buck could say it back, but he figured Chris knew what his response would be anyway.

___________________________

Over the next day, Buck did what he did best. He watched. He noted Eddie’s behavior. He considered the inflections of his voice, the content of his words, the way he handled himself. To any outsider, it was like nothing ever happened.

Buck wasn’t just anyone, especially to Eddie.

He pretended not to notice Eddie’s hesitation when he was tasked with helping Chim wire the air traffic controller. He pretended that Eddie’s hand didn’t feel too heavy on his shoulder when he stood up to quickly diagnose the other man with a potential panic attack.

He pretended he didn’t see the way Eddie’s hands trembled a little more than they usually did after a call while they made their way to the fire truck and ambulances with the victims. He pretended not to see Eddie close his eyes for a few moments and take a deep breath, in and out, calculated like it wasn’t quite second nature anymore.

It wasn’t until they entered the emergency department that he had ammo for confrontation.

“Hey, what was with that doctor on the way in? Why is she asking if you’re alright?” Buck asked. He played nonchalance really well but he could be proud of himself for that later.

“It was nothing.” Buck just stared and Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t feeling well the other day, so… she checked me out.”

“She’s a cardiologist. At a hospital,” Buck supplied. He knew Eddie didn’t think he was that stupid—or at least, he hoped. “Are you saying you had a heart attack?” Buck asked, immediately concerned that maybe he didn’t let Ana and Christopher in on the full story.

“No, I’m not saying I had a heart attack. I’m saying the opposite,” Eddie said smugly, “I’m saying I didn’t have a heart attack.”

“But you did think you were having a heart attack,” Buck appended. He was leading Eddie to the point, feigning dumb for the good of the situation, but Eddie wouldn’t budge.

“Can we just drop this?”

Before Buck could argue, Hen walked over and asked, “Guys, want us to tag you out?” Eddie agreed, but Buck felt his annoyance rise within him. He couldn’t stop himself from his next words.

“Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.”

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff.

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do.

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.)

___________________________

The front door to Eddie's apartment slammed and Buck could see the tension jerk at Eddie’s shoulders.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Buck questioned.

“There wasn’t anything to tell, Buck,” Eddie said stubbornly. Buck would have smacked him if he wasn’t so worried.

“Nothing to tell, huh?” He held up his hand and counted off his fingers as he listed off, “You had a presumed heart attack and were sent by ambulance to the hospital. Turns out it was a panic attack and when asked if there were any stressors lately, you lied to the doctor about getting shot—”

“I didn’t lie, I—”

Eddie stopped himself when Buck’s glare narrowed even further.

“Your son had to tell the doctor that you were shot,” Buck corrected. Eddie pressed his lips together, unwilling to argue. “You almost have another panic attack on a scene and tell approximately no one only have a full-blown meltdown on a helicopter that’s hanging on by a thread in the middle of a rescue. Am I missing anything?” Buck asked, though it was clear he wasn’t looking for an answer.

“I’m fine—” Eddie began.

Buck waltzed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him as hard as he could while still being aware of the bullet hole-shaped scar left behind from those few months ago. The scar that might have physically stayed on Eddie, but lingered in the back of Buck’s mind every single day.

“You’re not fine, Eddie! You almost died and you’re sitting here like life goes on and nothing has changed.”

“Nothing has. It was a panic attack, not another near-death experience.”

“You say another like it’s a normal occurrence in people’s lives,” Buck exclaimed. “It’s not! It’s not normal for people to get shot and survive—not once, but twice. It’s not normal for people to just move on with their lives like they weren’t nearly ended. It’s not normal to carry on like nothing is wrong when something is fucking wrong, Eddie!”

“Buck, you should take a step back—”

Buck pushed himself away before Eddie’s hands could press against his shoulders, that thumbprint on his pulse that reminded both of them that they were still there. He leaned against the wall behind him, unable to hold himself up without assistance anymore, and sighed.

“You didn’t tell me,” Buck said, a whisper of admission into the air between them like a secret Buck wasn’t ready to tell.

“I couldn’t,” Eddie muttered.

“You couldn’t?” Buck scoffed. “You didn’t trust me? You didn’t want me to exhaust you with my worry? Give me one good reason why you couldn’t tell me!”

“Because then it’s real, Buck, okay?!” Eddie yelled. He ran his hands through his hair before he pounded a fist against the wall beside him. It would hurt in the morning, that much was obvious by the sound that echoed through the empty room.

“What?” Buck asked quietly. Eddie breathed deeply like he hadn’t taken in air in months. Buck wasn’t convinced he had.

“If you don’t know, then I can forget it’s happening. I’m not reminded of that moment where the pain was so great that I couldn’t hold myself up and only trusted myself to reach out to you to pick me back up. I’m not haunted by the fact that I almost made my son an orphan for the third time in his life. If you don’t know, then I can pretend it never happened and move forward.”

“From what, Eddie? You can’t just move forward. You know that,” Buck prodded.

“Yeah, well, I sure as hell can try .”

They both paused, taking the moment of silence to breathe, to think, to figure out what was next.

Eddie made the first move, walking over to where Buck had leaned back against the wall and matched his position. He pressed their shoulders together, his eyes glued to the way Buck’s chest moved up and down slowly, imitating the movement as if he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it himself.

Buck yearned to reach out and hold him, but instead, he asked the questions that lingered on his mind.

“When are going to let us—any of us—in? When are you going to let me help you ? When are you going to admit that you’re not okay?”

Eddie didn’t—couldn’t—answer, but the shake in his shoulders was unmistakable.

As he slid down the wall, Buck followed his every move, wrapping an arm around his waist to ease the fall. When they landed, Eddie pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a gutwrenching sob that had tears bubbling behind Buck’s eyelids. He held them back as best he could because, at that moment, nothing else could matter but Eddie.

Cries of pain, anguish, fear, every horrible emotion that had been welling up inside of both of them burst from Eddie’s mouth and he fell into Buck for the support he extended. He clawed at the collar of Buck’s shirt, his nails raking against the skin of Buck’s chest, but nothing was as painful as the way Eddie gasped at the breaths that didn’t seem to come as quickly as he needed them to.

Buck held Eddie’s hand to his heart so he could feel the simple rise and fall of his chest and mimic it again. His other hand grasped at the shirt of Eddie’s back to keep his panic away, his own way of anchoring himself there so he could continue to be the solid weight Eddie needed to push through.

Every part of them was entangled and Eddie had no choice but to press his face into Buck’s neck. Buck hoped his heartbeat stayed solid enough to remind Eddie they were both still alive, even if it felt like they weren’t.

“I’ve got you, Eds, I’m here. I won’t let you go, never.”

It was too much to say, too easy for Eddie to read into the double entendre of his words and Buck selfishly hoped he was too lost in his own mind to realize it.

But the words or the touch or the steady calmness Buck forced himself into seemed to ease Eddie out of the attack of emotions that surged through him. Little by little, Eddie’s sobs turned to hiccups, his tears turned to trickles, and the white-knuckled grip he had on Buck loosened but didn’t fall. He breathed in time with Buck, his heartbeat slowing to its correct rhythm, and the tremors in his body settled to occasional chills.

“Buck?” Eddie asked, as if he barely realized what was happening inside of him.

“I’m here,” Buck reassured.

Eddie shook his head and when he finally glanced up, all Buck could see was the redness around his eyes and the tear stains that looked too permanent on his skin.

“I’m not okay,” Eddie admitted— finally —before pressing his face back into Buck’s neck with a whimper like the words were painful to acknowledge out loud.

“Yeah, Eddie, I know.”

Buck couldn’t resist kissing the top of his head and letting his lips linger for just a second too long.

“I need your help,” Eddie said, his voice graveled with emotion.

“You’ve got it,” he promised again.

“Yeah, Buck, I know,” Eddie teased because of course, even in his darkest moment, he had to get the last word in and it had to be something full of that sarcastic barrier he protected himself with.

Buck let him, though, because he figured Eddie knew what his response would be anyway.

#911 on fox #buddie #911 #911 spoilers #5x1 coda #evan buckley #eddie diaz #my writing #im so happy this season has started #coda fics are gonna own me for the next few months alksdjfl;asd #911fic

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mrsbrookegillespie · 3 years ago

Text

+Perfect Harmony+ (Part One) Luke x Reader

Description: For Y/N Molina, it never came easy for her. The hardest part not being able to do the one thing she loved, creating music. With her cousin Julie joining a ghost band that she’s been secretly admiring for years, her all time crush not returning the same feelings, and having many untold secrets, something is bound to go wrong.

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, mention of suicidal thoughts, Ray not being that nice (I’m sorry Ray, we love you), mention of slight sexual harassment, mentions of death (duh), terrible writing, typos, and probably more that my brain can’t think of at the moment.

After Writing All Of That I’m Questioning This Story, But I Do Love It So... Many Songs Will Be Featured, Feel Free To Listen To Them When They Come Up.

+Perfect Harmony+

For Y/N Molina life wasn’t easy. Her parents, one being the sister of Ray Molina, dropped her off in front of the Molina household at the age of fourteen before going off to explore the world. At the time she was upset about the situation, but it wasn’t surprising. Her parents never wanted a kid, she practically raised herself while they were in Greece eating seafood, and sipping at the finest wine, no doubt. “How are you doing?” Rose, her cousin Julie’s mom, asks.

Y/N shrugs. “They’re never coming back, so I guess I’m going to be stuck on this couch for a while.” She actually grew quite fond of the sofa that pulled out into a bed.

“We’ll make you a room up in the loft,” Rose assures.

“So, we agree, my parents are…” Her voice fades off, inhaling through her nose.

“You know, this used to be the studio of a band.” Y/N tilts her head, looking at the older woman. “A rock band, I met them when they were going to play at The Orpheum--”

“The Orpheum?!” Y/N exclaims. “That’s amazing!”

“They were, but they died that night.” Rose stands up, walking to a box. “This is some of their stuff.” She picks it up. “I’ve heard the music you listen to, and I think you would like them.” Setting down the box in front of Y/N, she wastes no time searching through it.

“Sunset Curve?” she questions, staring down at the logo printed on the shirt. “Cool name,” she compliments with a wide smile, setting the article of clothing in her lap. She picks up a picture showing four boys. “Were these them?”

“Yes, that one was Bobby, he’s a flirt, Reggie, sweetie, Alex, very sassy--” Y/N giggles, “And Luke, he was the lead singer.”

“He’s… Quite decent looking,” Y/N observes sheepishly.

“I knew you’d think so.” Rose ruffles her hair. “Listen to the CD, you never know…”

“I will.” Y/N clutches the photo to her chest as Rose leaves. Hastily she picks up the CD that had the band's logo plastered on the plastic case. She gently places it in the player, waiting for the music to come through the speakers. And then, there it was. “They’re amazing.” She grabs the box again, pulling out an orange beanie, placing it on her head.

By the end of the night she had searched the entire studio for more stuff, gathering it, trying things on, she stayed up ‘til sunrise listening, and trying to learn each and every one of their songs, painting each of the members on canvases, writing songs about the guitarist that even though died years ago, she couldn’t help but feel connected to. A crush on a dead guy, what’s better than that?

“Boo!” Luke poofs in next to Y/N who’s currently getting her textbooks out of her locker.

“God!” she shrieks. “You need to stop doing that to me, gonna give me a heart attack,” she mutters as her fellow classmates, and random people she had never met give her weird glances. “Make people think I’m crazy.” Luke opens his mouth to reply, but Y/N beats him to it. “Yes, Luke, I know ‘we’re all a little crazy’.”

He pouts. “Someone’s grumpy today.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the locker next to hers. “But, anyways! Do you know where Julie is?”

And there Y/N’s heart was punched. “I mean, she has to be around here somewhere,” she answers, slamming the locker door. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have to go to class.” She takes her time to turn around on her heels.

“You’re gonna be at band rehearsal before our performance, right?” he asks, making her stop.

Turning only the upper half of her body to look at him. “I think you forget I live in the studio.”

He lets out an airy chuckle. “Right.” He playfully rolls his eyes.

Unlike Julie she didn’t care if people thought she was crazy, for the number one reason being that people already thought that. Wacky, coocoo, freak, those were just some of the words people called her before her favorite band suddenly popped out of nowhere because Julie played their CD.

That always confused Y/N, why is that when she played the CD all that time ago they didn’t show up, but when Julie did, they did? She never mentioned her already known infatuation with the band, even though it most likely answers the question of why Julie and her can see the ghosts. “But, I’m grounded so…” She carelessly shrugs. “I’m stuck on party duty for the time being, so probably won’t be there for that, but I’ll be there for the actual performance.” Even though she would’ve done it anyway, Ray wanted Y/N to be more ‘supportive’.

“Oh.” His smile falters a little. “Cool, I’ll catch you later then.”

An awkward tension fills the air. “Yep.” She salutes towards him, walking off.

Grounded. No phone, only can drive her car to school, and home. Y/N wasn’t even allowed to listen to her records which she’s collected over the course of three years. And it was for the reason that she's failing multiple classes, but Ray didn’t understand the struggle she’s going through.

Let’s rewind… When Rose died it left the whole Molina family broken. But, it also left another part of Y/N broken when music became Julie’s thing at that moment, Ray not allowing Y/N to even have a guitar in her room. She loved music, all she wanted to do was sing, play every instrument, write every song with any word that popped into her mind. Julie couldn’t even touch a piano until recently, and yet, it had to only be Julie’s thing. So, now Y/N has to just secretly write songs in her red notebook knowing they’ll never be used, and secretly play in the school’s band room before any student takes a foot into the building, while she watches her cousin and the guys become ‘Julie and the Phantoms’.

What does hurt her everyday, is not being able to do something she loves because they’re afraid of how it might affect someone else. But, if Julie really cared for her family member then she’d be happy for her, right? Not to mention the way Luke looks at Julie hurts a little too, the chemistry. No one can deny it. It’s not like she’s had a crush on him before they even met him as a ghost. No, the biggest crush that she’s ever had is totally not a dead guy, and no, she’s never in the past thought about killing herself in hope to meet him if there were an afterlife, which she guesses there is now. She’s sure he loves Julie not being an absolute mess for him, and he probably knows that Y/N’s in love with him and is trying to show her he doesn’t like her in the worst way possible. “Y/N!” she internally screams, hearing the familiar voice.

“Josh…” she drags out his name. Maybe she should just give him a chance? He gives her plenty of attention. She giggles to herself when the thought crosses her mind. That wasn’t funny. An inner voice replies.

“Hey, I just… Wanted to see how you were doing, you know--just friend to friend.”

“I actually have to go to class, so we’ll talk later, ‘kay?” She tries to turn around to leave, but Josh grabs her arm to pull her back.

“Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes,” he counters.

“Y/N!” Luke exclaims, poofing right next to Josh. “I still haven’t found Julie, are you sure you don’t know where she is?” He almost didn’t even notice the other boy that had also been fighting for Y/N’s attention.

“I like to get to class early,” Y/N replies to Josh. “And you haven’t seen Julie around here, have you?”

“I think I saw her in the dance room.” She gives Luke a pointed look. “You know, practicing for that dance thing.”

“Yeah!” Y/N responds, not even an ounce interested in this conversation. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she noticed Luke not leaving.

“Who’s this?” he asks.

“So, Josh, I really have to go,” she claims. “I’ll see ya around!”

“Wait,” he starts. “Is this about when I tried to kiss you the other day?” Y/N tenses up,

Luke’s jaw dropping slightly.

Followed by a wide smile. “Does Y/N have a boyfriend?!” he mocks.

“No, well, yes, it is. We aren’t dating, Josh, it’s uncomfortable.” Josh huffs out. “That’s not a weird reason for why.” Y/N’s blood starts to boil.

“You should feel honored that someone would even want to kiss you, I mean your reputation here isn’t all too great, Y/N,” he states.

“Goodbye, Josh.” She turns on her heels.

Luke watches as she angrily walks away, glaring at Josh who obviously couldn’t see him. He turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder to see Julie by her locker. Giving Y/N one more glimpse he goes to do what he came here to do.

Y/N sits at her desk, rereading over the words that she colorfully wrote in her journal. “You pretty thing, with pretty things inside,” she sings quietly. She slams the book closed when she finds herself getting annoyed by just how untalented she was.

“I think that Nick guy has a crush on Julie,” Luke reports, once again magically appearing in front of her. He was taken aback when she didn’t react.

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