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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Back to the 118 // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Buck meets the firefighter he replaced as the reader transfers back to the 118. The reader never expected to fall for a co-worker the first day back at the 118 after two years spent at the 155 in Los Feliz.

Warnings: Swearing, sickness, hospitals, health issues, pregnancy, angst and a shit ton of fluff

Words: 5.9k

A/N: So this is obviously a modern au for jatp to fit in the 911 universe. To make this work, Buck replaced Reader instead of Tommy after many failed probies. Eddie then later replaced Tommy.

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Masterlist

Your e/c eyes scanned the outward appearance of the first firehouse you’d worked at fresh out of the Academy. The place that had become a second home from the increased tension-filled house your parents still lived in. A place you had escaped as quickly as you could for a dream career. A career your parents hadn’t been proud of in the beginning, with the danger that came with being a firefighter paramedic.

“You the new recruit?”

Your eyes fell from the building to the male individual standing near the open bay the engine and ladder truck both used. The male in question must have joined the 118 after you transferred to the 155. The stranger towered at least six feet minimum with blue eyes and short blonde hair with the slightest wave.

“No-”

“Flint!” The excited voice of the only other female paramedic called out. You only saw dark navy before you were pretty much tackled.

Hen and Chimney had equally taken you under their wings when you initially joined as a rookie. You’d been the second female firefighter-paramedic at the 118 and the youngest by far. As if you’d summoned him, you felt the arms of Chimney sandwich you against Hen.

“Flint?” The stranger parroted, blinking his eyes at the rather unusual scene of Chimney and Hen wrapped around an unknown girl.

“What are you doing here?” Chimney questioned, stepping back. Hen scoured your entire form for any differences that had occurred.

“Y/N decided to come home,” Bobby spoke from a few feet behind the reunion with the beaming smile on his features. His lips pulled into a smile directed at the first recruit he’d taken on his first year at the 118.

“Bobby!” You grinned, meeting the father figure in the middle of the distance between you two. Bobby wrapped you up in his arms tightly, a certain lightness cocooning the Captain as he took in his friends.

“You’re back here?”

“Everything is squared back at home now, thankfully, and while I loved working with the 155, it wasn’t home. This will always be home.”

“Buck, this is Y/N Patterson. She worked her first two years with the 118 before transferring to the 155 in Los Feliz. Y/N, this is one of our newest members, Evan Buckley.” Bobby gestured towards the previously nameless firefighter.

“Who would leave the 118?” Buck questioned, unable to come up with a valid reason to leave the family at 118.

Buck’s opinion didn’t stand with his only workplace after successfully becoming a firefighter solely was the 118. Never had he worked in another firehouse. He’d been a fire marshall and volunteered his time in the Austin wildfire, but he always came home to the 118.

“Family issues.”

2018, Firehouse 118, Los Angeles

A fresh-faced, albeit dirty from sweat and soot, jumped down from the engine truck’s high steps. The synchronized slam of doors sounded from your colleagues and friends Hen and Chimney. All three individuals famished for the casserole Bobby had premade during the slow morning.

“Baked Mac n’ Cheese.” Tommy breathed from his position by the driver side. Tommy Kinard was a stoic man towering over six feet. He was always a gentle giant after you’d bonded after a hard call.

“Clean up, and I’ll have it in the oven. It’s Chimney’s time to make the salad and Flint’s turn to set the table.” Bobby spoke with barely a glance to the ground ahead of him.

Your Captain jogged towards the stairs, whereas his team made their way to the locker rooms for a well-deserved shower. You and Hen split away from Tommy and Chimney to the women’s locker room that had gotten an upgrade.

Well, before you joined the Academy, the locker room had been used as a glorified game room, all thanks to the misogynist Captain from hell. Hen often had over the years mentioned how lucky you got with Bobby being your first Captain.

“Chimney better not put those onions like he did last time.” You spoke from under the stream of warm water. Nothing beat the warmth of a shower near the end of your shift erasing the evidence of your job.

“Man needs to learn the complimentary salad to the main dish.” Hen piped up from across the shower room.

You and Hen had both showered and redressed in a fresh uniform in under five minutes, the dirty one placed in a laundry bag. You’d managed to beat the boys to the upstairs by a few seconds. Enough to set half of the able before Chimney began to making his salad of choice.

“Looks great, Cap.” Tommy complimented the gooey homemade pasta Bobby religious made every third Thursday. He alternated between pasta recipes with the odd new recipe every once in a while.

“What are you waiting for? The bell?” Bobby quipped to the unmoving bunch of hungry individuals. His words started the boisterous meal time preceding the end of shift.

“So, we’re halfway through dinner and Amber-” Your phone interrupted the disaster date Tommy had begun telling. He continued as soon as you waved him to go ahead while you took the call.

“Hello?” You breathed into the phone.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The warmth infused in your mom’s voice soothed the ruffled feathers from the call you’d come back from, “How are you?”

“I’m good! We just finished eating. My shift is almost over, and I’ll have to go straight to the store for groceries-”

“Y/N, we found him.”

The him was easy to figure out given your brother had run away from home three months prior with only his dreams in mind. You’d spent most of your off time, sometimes even during shift out on a call, to scan the environment for Luke. You became a regular in questioning hospitals and homeless shelters.

“Where was he?”

“His band had been about to play at some big venue last night.” Mom’s word choice concerned you. Her voice dripped with sadness instead of the typical disappointment and annoyance on anything to do with Sunset Curve.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“A few nights ago, the boys got hotdogs-”

“Streetdogs.” You interrupted with evident anger in your tone at the mention of those death dogs Luke consumed. You can’t even give a number to how many times you had told him how unsanitary and dangerous the food is.

“Something was wrong with the food. They got ill fast. Alex and Reggie are being kept for observation but will be found with a few days of rest.”

“What about Luke?”

“He tried to call 911; he was weak and fell. Y/N, he hit his head. He’s in the ICU in a coma.” Emily Patterson’s voice cracked as soon as she acknowledged the current state of her youngest child.

The colours of the world dulled as soon as your mind clicked that Luke was in the hospital. Your little brother had put himself in danger all because he had a big dream. Your mind flashed through your life growing up with him.

You remembered talking to your mom’s growing bump when she was pregnant with Luke. You remembered five-year-old Luke unable to settle unless you sang to him. Your voice was nothing special, but it soothed the little boy when he had a nightmare. You could vividly recall teaching Luke how to play the guitar when he was thirteen; the brunette a complete natural at it.

“What’s his prognosis?”

“Too early to tell. The doctor is hoping Luke will be in a general room after tomorrow if the swelling goes down. I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

“How’s Dad?”

Emily hesitated from her position by a hospital bed. Her brown eyes carefully scanning the male sleeping soundly in the bed.

“Mom?”

“Your father had a heart attack last night. That’s why I haven’t been able to tell you sooner. He’s currently sleeping, but he’ll have a barrage of tests later today-”

“I’ll be there as soon as my shif-”

“No. Don’t drop anything. I can keep you up.”

“Excuse my language, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying away from my family. I’ll take a few days off. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Your thumb tapped the red circle on the bottom of your screen.

The 118 didn’t bother pretending they hadn’t been watching your form during your phone call. Bobby felt like something had drastically changed in a few minutes you’d been busy on the phone.

“Everything okay?” Bobby inquired from his position at the kitchen sink. His hands in the sudsy water to scrub the empty pan.

“My brother and my father are in hospital. I’m gonna need some days off.” You informed your boss with a look of utter defeat coating your expression.

Those few days transitioned to transferring to the closest firehouse to your childhood home and the hospital. The medical bills from both your brother and father had begun to overwhelm your mother with the current single source of income. Emily didn’t ask you for anything, but you started renting the home you’d bought for extra money.

It was a silent agreement that you paid rent as a cover to helping with the bills piling up.

Present Day, Firehouse 118

Buck followed behind the welcoming group to the girl that seemed larger than life. Buck was impressed by the sacrifice you’d made for the good of your family. You’d willingly given up the family of the 118. Buck didn’t know if he could do the same.

“Welcome back.” Hen cheered on her guidance to the heaven everyone called the kitchen. Your department issue duffle bag dropped out of the wall on the top level.

Your eyes zeroed in on the spread of your favourite foods prepared by the only person aware of your return. It was only one look of gratitude towards the father figure before everyone dug in.

A few changes had occurred since you’d last sat at this table. Tommy Kinard had left the 118 for the 217 shortly after your departure. He’d been replaced by the ready to impress Buck. One thing that hadn’t changed was the delicious food Bobby made.

Your eyes found the sole empty chair at the long table, “Didn’t you say the house took on two new recruits since I left?”

“Buck took your position when you left. We had a revolving door of firefighters before Buck permanently joined.” Chimney supplied with a mouth full of lettuce and grated carrot. Hen whacked his arm for his lack of manners.

“You’ll meet Eddie on the next shift. He took the day off. It’s his son’s first birthday since his mom died.” Bobby informed you with that pinched wrinkle between his eyebrows, “He joined after Tommy left.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet the entire team.” You replied, looking past to the circular table behind Bobby’s spot. Sam and Ryan both waved happily upon catching sight of you back at your unspoken seat.

You listened intently as Hen shared the changes Denny had gone through in the time you’d been away. Chimney was ecstatic to point out the faint scar on his forehead.

“You had rebar go through your skull, and you’re completely fine?” You questioned, floored by the pure luck Chimney had.

“Oh, it was nasty. Went in from the back of the skull to the front.” Buck spoke enthusiastically, recounting the scene. Chimney deadpanned a look at his younger coworker, “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s like you never had it happen.”

“Doc was shocked at how positive the outcome and healing was. I was back at work within a month on light duty. I beat my record getting in my turnout gear.”

“And yet my little brother was comatose for two months.” You grumbled under your breath. None of the people could make out the words, but the grimace on your face was enough to show them it was personal.

In true 118 fashion, the bell rang throughout the firehouse with the disembodied voice declaring the type and location. Yoru e/c eyes found Buck climbing into the driver’s seat where Tommy had once commandeered. It was odd not having the man who’d became an older brother to you.

“How’re your parents?” Hen questioned, sitting diagonally from you. Her fingers repositioning the radio on her chest.

“Dad’s recovering pretty good. Mom’s started attending her knitting club again.”

Buck’s eyes raised to the rearview mirror to meet yours in interest, “What happened?”

“Uh...my dad had a heart attack a couple years ago. He took a long time to recover with the further stress that caused it.” You piped up, understanding the news would come out at some point, “My little brother was in an accident that left him in a coma. Life was just as messy after he woke up.”

“He’s okay?” Chimney questioned, “I know we’ve never met them, but it really gutted you.”

“Well, physically, he’s fine, but emotionally he’s upset. He was in a band, and when he came out of the coma, he found out some devastating news.” You continued to explain, but unfortunately, or maybe, fortunately, you’d come to the scene.

It was a little known place most teenagers discovered as a hang out spot just on the edge between your county and the next. The location was the infamous spot of cliff jumping; you knew because this was something you’d recklessly done in high school.

“He’s over here!” A blonde male of average height called from the edge of the cliff. His blue eyes were bright even from this distance, matching the detailing on his swim trunks.

Surrounding the edge with the boy was a group of teenagers his age, all in different versions of swimsuits. You found the scared brown eyes of a beautiful girl you vaguely knew from the few shows of Sunset Curve you had watched. Her dark blonde hair plaited out of her face. Her face clicked as Carrie Wilson, Bobby’s sister or cousin.

You jogged towards the edge of the cliff to look over. It was easily between fifteen to twenty feet from the edge of the cliff to the water. You recognized Hen crouching by your side, looking at what you were looking at.

On the rocks was a prone body of a teenage male with bruises already forming on his face from where you could see. His thick shoulder-length hair laid still half in the ponytail and around his head.

“Head trauma.” You murmured to Hen, scanning from a distance, “I can’t tell much from this height and angle.”

“Either a broken tibia or fibula. Spinal injury is definitely a concern.”

“Okay, his name is Willie Young. He’s eighteen years old. His sister Kayla was dared to jump off by doing some kind of flip. Willie took her dare and didn’t jump far enough or tripped over a rock.” Bobby listed having been talking with the group of teenagers all shook up.

“I can rappel-” Buck began to speak before you cut him off firmly.

“It would take too long, and the angle is difficult. Nobody rappels down it; the cliff isn’t stable enough. It crumbles pretty easy, and the unofficial name of this cliff is Devil’s Dive.” Your eyes found Carrie’s tear-filled once and the utter devastation in who you pegged as Kayla.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve jumped off this cliff for years as a teenager. You’re looking at the resident champion of self reckless endangerment at Devil’s Dive.”

Hen, Chimney and Bobby each stared, shocked at your revelation of stupid teenager decisions.

“Then how are we gonna get down there,” Buck questioned, staring at the unconscious teenager lying on the rocks.

“Easy, I can jump from here into the water and climb onto the rocks to where Willie is. I have the experience of how and where to jump safely.” You spoke to your Captain with complete confidence in your abilities, “You can lower down the kit, radio and backboard by a rope. There’s a mansion beyond the trees that you can ask to borrow a boat from the owner. He’s eccentric and questionable but nice enough.”

Bobby nodded his head to your plan. You unbuttoned your uniform shirt to strip down to the department t-shirt with the emblem on your chest and across your back. You kept the boots and emptied your pockets of anything. The butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the height of the cliff you hadn’t jumped from in years.

“I’ll jump where-”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed at Buck’s assumption he could follow you.

“You’ll need another pair of hands to roll him on the backboard. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home. This is kinda what I do. Bobby cleared it already.” Buck shrugged with a half-smirk on his handsome face.

With a roll of your eyes, you quickly gave Buck a rundown on how to jump correctly before you tossed yourself off the cliff. The cold water momentarily shocked your system as soon you submerged under the water. You swam to the surface before swimming towards the rocks. Willie hadn’t moved an inch.

“Whoa! That was so cool!” Buck cheered once he’d appeared on the surface of the water, “No wonder you used to do that!”

His excitement both annoyed and amused you, “Eh. I was just an idiot kid who thought they were invincible.”

The two firefighters lifted themselves onto the rock formation, where blood stained the rock. While Buck retrieved the backboard and essentials from the rope, your hands moved across Willie’s body, checking for breaks. You caught the c-collar Buck tossed without looking. You quickly but gently put the collar on Willie.

“Hi, Willie. My name is Y/N, and I’m a paramedic. I’m gonna check you over for injuries.” You informed the teenager closely. You’d only just opened his eyes to flash a light on them, “Buck let Bobby know Willie’s pupils are reactive to light and the same size.”

“Got it!” Buck called out from the open medkit, “I’ll splint his leg.”

“W-what happened?” Willie wheezed sluggishly. His brown eyes were unfocused.

“You got hurt trying to jump off the cliff. You’re in good hands, Willie. I’m a paramedic with the Los Angeles Fire Department. This is my coworker Buck.”

“Kayla?”

“Perfectly safe, but you did give her a scare. Willie, can you feel this?” Buck questioned, gently touching his right foot. Buck and you both gave a sigh of relief as Willie confirmed he felt it.

“Okay, we’re gonna roll you on to the backboard. On three: one, two, three.” You counted before rolling Willie on his side with Buck. Willie’s cry echoed around the surrounding as you settled him on the board.

“Need a ride?” Chimney asked as a very nice boat floated towards the three people on the rocks. Hen and Bobby helped load Willie onto the boat, “Mr. Covington agreed to let us use the boat if we don’t get blood on the seats.”

“Can you call my boyfriend?” Willie sluggishly asked when he was loaded into the ambulance on the cliff. Kayla sliding into the seat in the back of the ambulance with their items.

“Alex is meeting us at the hospital.” Kayla told her older brother, “You absolute idiot! You should have just let me jump!”

“And let you be in the back of the ambulance? Dad would kill me if I had let you do it.” Willie scoffed. Their conversation was silent as Chimney and Buck closed the back doors of the ambulance.

Bobby, Buck and you climbed into the fire truck to follow the ambulance to the closest hospital. Hen and Chimney rolled the gurney to the doors with Kayla hot on their heels. You’d just turned to head back to the truck when you saw three teens loitering near the entrance.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled, marching away from Bobby and Buck to the teen who was supposed to be in class.

Luke had been forced into private tutoring to catch up to his friends in his grades, meaning every afternoon. The watch on your wrist confirmed Luke was definitely supposed to be with his tutor at the community centre.

“Luke!” You shouted, stomping right up to the wide-eyed teen.

Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his older intimidating sister caught him like his hand was in the cookie jar. You didn’t give Reggie or Alex a second look while you gripped Luke’s ear to tug him away.

“Ow!” Luke whined from the angle you dragged him at.

“What the hell are you doing across the city? You’re supposed to be in your session that our parents are paying a great deal for.” You snapped, crossing your arms in your wet t-shirt.

“We need every chance we can to-”

“Make it big in the industry.” You parroted the past discussions on Luke’s dream as a band, “Do you remember how I got mom and dad off your back? An agreement that you finish high school on time. Not dropping out.”

“So many musicians have dropped out! Green Day’s frontman dropped out his senior year to focus on the band. Several others like Elton John and Kurt Cobain!” Luke enthused, gesturing with his hand to emphasize his words.

“Luke.” You warned, “It’s either catch by with a tutor with some time dedicated to your band, or it’s a military school.”

Luke’s hazel eyes minimally widened, “They would-”

Your stoic expression stayed the same as the energetic seventeen-year-old bounced in his spot across from you.

“There’s only so much I can do before you lose everything. I know you feel anxious after what all happened, but music isn’t going anywhere.” You reached to squeeze Luke’s hand in yours, “So, I’ll clear it with my boss to have you ride the bus to the station. You’ll have your tutor sessions with my supervision, so I know you’re attending.”

“Y/N!” Bobby called from next to the firetruck, “We gotta go.”

“I’m guessing the Alex that Willie is dating your best friend?” You questioned with one raised eyebrow. Luke nodded in response, “Let mom know you had to be there for Alex. She’ll let skipping your session go this once.”

“Thanks!” Luke chimed, lunging to hug you. Your mouth barely opened before he was racing towards a jittery Alex and a grinning Reggie.

Reggie lifted his arm to wave with his flushed cheeks a darker red colour. You found Reggie’s crush on you to be absolutely adorable. He was a friendly kid.

“He looks good for a kid who was in a coma not long ago.” Hen breathed as the teenager entered the ER with his best friends beside him.

“Oh, he healed quickly. He was crushed after he fully recovered from his head injury.”

“That was your brother?” Buck inquired, and he was just as focused on your features as he had since he first met you.

“Yeah! He was in a coma for ten months when he was sixteen. He’s spent the last two years catching on on school to graduate with his friends. Well hopefully. He’s dead set on dropping out.” You heavily sighed, leaning your temple on the glass window, “He was supposed to be at a tutoring session. I’ll be chaperoning to make sure he goes.”

“If you need to have them at the station, send me a schedule, and I’ll make it work. Luke’s just as much family as you are.”

The rest of the shift was smooth sailing as Buck followed you around with the sole purpose of getting to know you. The friendship came naturally to the two of you. He didn’t hold back with you like he did with others. Fridays off became hangouts that varied from just Buck and you to spend it with Eddie and Christopher.

Everyone could see Buck had developed feelings for you and vice versa. Unlike the man Buck used to be, he was cautious. He wanted to do this right. And Buck did. With the help of Christopher, he asked you out.

Months Later

Buck’s eyes fluttered open in the dim lighting of your new home’s bedroom he often found himself in. Before, you had alternated staying at his apartment or yours before a significant change happened. Luke moved in to finish his senior year with the help of your tutoring, as agreed with your parents. That led to you giving up your former home, the one that coincidentally Buck’s sister Maddie had rented from you.

“Luke! You better be awake!” Your voice came from the main floor of the home. Your voice alone seduced the firefight to leave the warm sheets.

His bare feet pattered down the hardwood floor stairs into the kitchen coated in all different kinds of breakfast food. Waffles to imported maple syrup to bacon spread across the counter.

“Morning,” Buck grumbled, stepping up behind you to tug you against his chest.

Unlike Buck’s softer footsteps, your little brother tore down the stairs like a stampede of elephants. Luke wore a vintage band shirt modified sleeveless; you’d be getting a voicemail about dress code violations. The chains hanging off his black jeans.

“You have to hurry, Lu. Buck and I can’t be late. He needs to get to his apart-”

“I don’t see why he doesn’t just move in. He’s here almost every night. He helps buy groceries.” Luke’s hazel eyes stared at the plate he towered food on.

Buck raised one eyebrow in response, “You just moved in. You should be settled before we make-”

“Dude. Your lease is up in like a month; just move in already. No feathers will be ruffled. Besides, the band’s taking off now that Nick got his dad Ryan to check our music out.” Luke sprouted with a beaming smile at the good news his new band received.

After Luke had recovered from that coma, he’d woken up in a world where Alex, Reggie and Bobby, no Trevor, now continued the band. Then when Alex and Reggie couldn’t go on, the rhythm guitarist betrayed Luke. He stole every song he could get his hands on and proved successful.

“Ryan Evans, right? His sister’s some bigshot on Broadway? Sharpay, right?” You questioned recalling in the early 2000s the success of Sharpay and Ryan in some kind of Disney films based on them.

“You’re about to be the sister and brother-in-law of a certified rockstar.” Luke’s attempt at smirking made him look like a chipmunk with full cheeks of food, “I don’t need a ride. Alex’s picking me up.”

“Straight to school, Luke. You’ve got two weeks left before you can leave that behind.” Buck pointed his coffee cup in the direction of the passionate musician. Luke returned a smile of acknowledgement.

The kitchen was quiet as Luke shoved as much food in his mouth in such little time while you watched. In a flash, he’d stuck his dishes in the dishwasher before sprinting out to the van beeping continuously.

“Think we can have you moved in by tomorrow? Your one-bedroom place will be a little cramped for five people.” You simply spoke as you rinsed your coffee cup out. You could hear the wheels in Buck’s brain turning as he thought.

“Five people?”

“Yeah. Luke, Albert, me, you and baby Buckley.”

The entire home went completely still as the announcement bled into the house you’d made a home. One hand resting against the smoothness of your belly. That hand covered by the calloused one of Buck’s. His blue eyes gleaming in utter adoration and excitement.

“Baby Buckley?” Buck marvelled, turning you to face him with tears running down your cheeks, “You’re pregnant?”

“I am. I guess we’re giving Maddie’s daughter a cousin.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Now I’m obligated to see your parents regularly, and I still grimace at the first introduction.” Buck winced, recalling the foot in mouth syndrome he’d developed.

Buck had never been as nervous as in this moment. Not when he had to tell his parents the first time he got kicked out of college. Or when his teenage self sat beside one of his flings waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Not even on his first date with Abby.

“You’ll be fine.” You soothed the anxious man standing by your side on the doorstep of your childhood home. The door opened, revealing Luke standing with a grimace, “Oh Mom, made you wear that.”

Luke had been stuffed into one of the only long-sleeved shirts he owned by your mother. It was a magenta maroon hued corduroy shirt and set off his chocolate hair perfectly. Apparently, your mother hadn’t been able to get him into a pair of pants that weren’t skinny, black or ripped.

“We’re meeting your boyfriend, not the damn Pope-”

“You wouldn’t be wearing that if the Pope was involved.” You retorted, stepping to tug the younger Patterson into your arms. The only thing you adored about your little brother was he never denied a hug. Physical touch is his love language, so he never went through a phase.

“Lucas, don’t let them freeze on the front porch!” Emily shouted from within the Patterson home. Luke rolled his eyes at his mother’s request.

“Luke, this is my boyfriend, Evan Buckley. Buck, this is my not so little brother Luke.” You swiftly introduced the most important males in your life.

Luke and Buck got along better than any previous partner you’d brought home. He got along with your parents really well. Even when he slightly embarrassed himself as the time came to go home, whether it was his place or yours. He kissed your mother’s cheek and shook hands with your father.

“No offence, but thank you for having a heart attack and a coma. If you hadn’t, I’m sure I would have never met Y/N.”

Luke snickered at Buck’s odd choice of words, as did your parents. A part of Buck dreaded the next time he’d see your parents.

The gentle press of lips against your cheek pulled you from your thoughts of the first family dinner. Despite the issues between Luke and your parents, they were great people and parents; Buck had felt like he finally fit in. Even with that awkward thankful he gave your brother and dad, he was family the minute Mitch and Emily saw the mutual looks.

“How are we gonna do this?”

“Well, as the pregnant one, I’ll carry the little Bean until it’s time for them to enter the world. Then we’ll-”

“I get that but with our jobs?”

You felt guilty at the dread of not getting to do what you love, but you were excited, “I’ll keep working as a paramedic. I’ll stay away from fires, and then I’ll go on mat leave. We’ll make this work, Buck.”

Buck leaned down to rest his forehead against yours with his eyes closed, envisioning how life was about to change. Buck adored children. He had loved Christopher from the moment he’d first met him. Buck himself was a kid at heart.

“I didn’t think I could fall more in love, but you continue to surprise me each time,” Buck murmured with that gorgeous smile that utterly melted your heart from the first time you saw it. Back when you tried to deny any feelings beyond friendship.

“We’re so lucky to have you, Evan Buckley.” You breathed as you leaned up to kiss him with as much passion as you could. Although it was mostly clashing of teeth with the matching wide grins on your face.

“This little girl is gonna be a heartbreaker but no boyfriends or girlfriends until they’re thirty.” Buck declared, tugging you into his arms. His blue eyes twinkling in the natural lighting.

“It could be a boy.”

“Or maybe neither. Boy, girl or non-binary, I’ll love them just as much.” Buck spoke once more.

Gideon Buckley was born in the early morning to the pride of his parents and extended family. He was a healthy solid 8 pounds with sparse dark blonde hair and the trademark grey-blue newborn eyes. You everyone but Buck and your surprise Gideon wasn’t alone. Grace Buckley followed her older twin brother eight minutes later.

You rested against the propped up pillows spent from the exhausting hours of labour, but it was worth it. The two tiny babies snuggled beneath the swaddling blanket concealing your bare chest. Skin to skin contact was absolutely the best part of being a parent.

“Did you steal a baby?” Chim joked upon entering the hospital room with Maddie in tow. Right behind them were your parents and Luke.

“I’d like you to meet our twins Gideon and Grace Buckley. Surprise!” Buck quietly cheered in the nearly silent room. Buck’s curated newly parents playlist gently playing in the background.

Mitch and Emily came closer to look at the little loves they proudly got to claim as their first grandchildren. Emily’s heart melted upon hearing Gracie coo in her sleep. Grace and Gideon’s fist pressed against each other.

“Congratulations.” Maddie breathed, bending to catch a peek at the twins’ faces.

“Luke. Would you like to meet your goddaughter and godson?” You questioned the nervous musician. The nineteen-year-old tiptoed his way to the hospital bed.

“I’m both their godfather?” Luke choked as soon as Buck gently transferred Gideon onto his uncle’s chest.

“There’s no one else in the world I’d choose to help guide them in the right direction. You always found your way back onto the right path. You’ll do the same for them.” Buck answered with Gracie nestled on his chest.

Buck was the first to hold them followed by you and then their godfather Luke.

Gid and Gracie, although unseen, had been in Luke’s graduation pictures and watched as Julie and the Phantoms signed with a record label. Where Gid was, Luke wasn’t far beyond; the special bond melted everyone. Likewise with Gracie and Alex.

Gid overall was a happy baby compared to Grace. Loved visiting the firehouse. Loved the people working with their father and previously their mother. For the entire first year of Gideon and Grace’s life, you stayed at home with the utter support of Buck.

“First day back.” Hen spoke from beside you on the bench in the women’s change room. As a fellow mother, she’d been watching your behaviour.

“I miss them. I feel guilty that I abandoned them-”

“Okay, your feelings are valid, but you aren’t abandoning Gideon or Grace. You’re teaching them that you can be a great mom while also being a badass firefighter. I was the same when I went back to work after we got Denny.”

“Do you ever wish you could be a stay at home mom?”

“I love Denny with my entire heart, but I couldn’t do that. I was meant to be a paramedic firefighter as much as Denny’s mother. Besides, I can see Maddie pushing in the double stroller.”

Your head snapped to see your sister in law beaming with the double stroller carrying Gideon and Grace. Maddie’s daughter sitting on the seat made for a toddler. Maddie and Chimney had come to a decision for Maddie to work part-time.

Hen watched as you bounded out of the changeroom in uniform to scoop the twins into your arms. In a split second, Buck was down the stairs cooing at the absolute loves of his life. His partner and two children.

Buck would forever be grateful for finding his way to the 118, where he found his true family. A place of acceptance, love, trust and loyalty. Buck found his place in the world, and that was beside you.

Tag List(s): (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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hazelnut-u-out · 2 years ago

Note

Hello mutual! For the writing thing: 🥺, ✨, 🎶, 👀 and/or 🤲, 🧠 for Rick, and if there’s anything you particularly want to answer that you haven’t been asked then that too if you want to?

thank you for sending in an ask!! <33

i just saw your reply to mine, hehe. answers under the cut!

🥺Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

hmmm... this one is kind of difficult to answer because, yes, but it's difficult to pick just one lol. if i had to pick one that makes me the most emotional, it'd probably be a tossup between young rick being any sort of paternal/doting to baby beth or any kind of moment where morty shows how sweet and pure his intentions are when everyone he puts himself on the line for is so undeserving.

also, rick crying or morty getting angry enough to just tear into someone. it's kind of their respective, "something is really wrong here."

✨Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it.

thank you, hehe. i'm my own worst critic, but i feel like i can make anything angsty and painful if you want me to. i also think i'm pretty good at painting visual details with words??

🎶Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

i have a hard time listening to music while i read or write because i get overstimulated SUPER easily lol. i do base a lot of my fics off of songs, though!

one i keep coming back to for rick is "storms" by fleetwood mac:

"did i ever really care that much? is there anything left to say?

every hour of fear i spend, my body tries to cry

living through each empty night

a deadly calm inside

i haven't felt this way i feel since many a year ago"

one that always makes me think of morty is "ghost on" by angel olsen:

"when should i believe the things you say?

you change your mind from day to day

and i don't know if you can take such a good thing coming to you

and i don't know if you can love someone stronger than you're used to"

i also have plenty i revisit for birdrick stuff.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

i'm working on a couple of multi-chapter concepts atm! i've been rereading the original "the adventures and memoirs of sherlock holmes" rn to work on my rick and morty x holmes and watson au!

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

some morty dialogue from an upcoming angst fic between the boy and his mad scientist grandpa:

"What, Rick? Woul- Would that make for a better story? W-Would it make me a more developed character? Or maybe a different answer would make you feel better! I-I'm so sorry! D-Did you have a different character arc in mind? One that would make you feel better about the character you've wr-written me to be? Would it be easier for you to forgive me if there was a-a-a reason that I did what I did? Would it tie up loose ends if -(redacted for spoilers)-? Give you closure? W-Well... 'tough luck, buddy.'"

also, just for you, a birdrick snippet from a revenge-era space cowboy multi-chapter wip:

The young man was unfurled below his companion like a blanket beneath the stars, and they studied one another like a loner’s wide eyes would peruse the cosmos sprawled out above them- Rick's quivering fingers and lips taking note of constellations divinely created for nothing more than his sinful touch along the way.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. (Rick)

i have so many silly headcanons about rick. my favorite is probably that he doesn't let morty get adult meals when they go through drive thru's. he has to get the kid's meal, but rick demands he give him the toy.

#my fics #asks

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babykimmin · 4 years ago

Text

One Last Time

A/N: I never intended on posting this, I wrote this after watching the last episode of Supernatural. I felt so many feelings watching it and writing this. I didn't mention a name on the mother because you guys can imagine whoever. *wink wink* maybe you can find the little hint I put in there on who I thought of as her mother.

Daughter!Reader

___

Dean held in the sob he felt rising through his chest almost making him forget the pain his body was going through. Sam moved away when he saw Dean reach towards the brunette watching her father with teared-filled eyes. He watched Dean shake his head at her, "No trying to save me, the moment I get off this I know I will be gone, I can feel myself slipping…come here let me look at you one last time, my baby." the girl moved slowly towards her father feeling her words get stuck in her throat, she felt her grace reaching out towards her sire she could feel it too. She could feel him slipping and there was nothing she could do, again.

"Baby, you were my greatest wish, a wish I thought would never come true but here you are. I'm sorry I have to leave you, but I know you will be fine because I raised you. I'm your father, you are strong, you are brave, you are.." Dean held in a breathe as he held his abdomen, "everything I'm not. I love you so much, never forget that.." Dean held her head towards his. She felt his last breath on her and she held his face in her hands.

"Daddy." She could feel Sam's hands on her trying to move her away and she held on harder, "No Daddy come back. I can't live without you. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't…I-" A sob ripped its way out of her mouth, Sam stopped his movements at the devastating sound coming out of the young girl, she had just lost both her parents in a matter of days. He had no words. The scream that left her mouth the next second made Sam's tears shed. Watching her clutch Dean's jacket, he had never seen such devastation in someone so young. Her sobs seemed to be all feelings piled up from everything that had gone on.

She and Jack never deserved this life. They were children in the bodies of teenagers. They both had never gotten a break. It made sense why Dean didn't want children, he wanted to go down swinging but leaving a child behind, was never in Dean's plans. Now Sam can see why.

All she could feel was pain, pain spreading everywhere as she held her father's lifeless body up, She could feel her lungs not getting enough air and she couldn't hear anything. It felt like time had stopped to witness her fall. Her grace reached out but never connected it made the pain worsen, she would never feel that warmth ever again. It was like being hugged by his soul and now there was nothing just cold.

How could she live on like this, her father was wrong. She's not strong, she's not brave. Her world was falling around her faster than she could repair it and she was giving up. What was the point? Her mother died after exchanging his life, her brother became god and left them, now her dad is dead. She couldn't see her life without them. This felt wrong, this wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to go home after and make hot chocolate. They were supposed to be sitting at the dining table laughing at Sam eating his rabbit food.

Sam.

She turned towards Sam who had tears streaming down his face.

Uncle Sam.

"Uncle Sam."

She didn't feel the words coming out of her mouth, they felt like they were said by someone else. They stared at each other for a few seconds. The world wasn't done with them yet and it crushed her. Sam had gone through so much more before she was even born. Gone through so much more with her parents and now they were gone. Everyone was gone but them.

"I-"

"I can't, I can't do this uncle Sam." Her hand reached out towards him, wanting to feel the warmth, the warmth of a living person. When their hands touched she could feel her grace trying to reach out, reaching out towards her only family member that was left but the only family member her grace couldn't touch.

"We can do it together Rosie. Dean was right, you are strong, you are brave and that's how I know you can get through this. I will be with you every step of the way, you will never be alone."

But she felt alone.

Sam was her uncle not her father nor her mother, her grace couldn't connect, her grace would never be complete. She didn't like it, she had never felt this way, this feeling of emptiness. She wanted her mom. She wanted her dad. She wanted to be wrapped in their arms and never leave. She would never get that back and she could feel herself not accepting it. Dean's forehead was cold against her, the warm breath gone. She took one last look at the man who sired her, the man she called dad.

The man who would wake her up with the best chocolate chip pancakes, the man who loved her mother, the man who would tell her he loved her every night, the man who would call her every hour if they were apart, the man who would always talk about how long he waited for her, the man who would hold her hand when she was scared, this man that knew 20 different ways to make mac and cheese, the man who saved the world, the man who wanted a better world for her. The man who did everything for love.

"Daddy."

She brought her hands to cup his cheeks, she studied his face one last time. Just one last time. She couldn't bring herself to stop, just an hour ago she thought she had all the time in the world and now she doesn't have time.

His scent, she knew that in no time she would never smell this scent again, no matter how many shirts, jackets, or blankets were left, the scent would fade. She couldn't take the thought, the sob that left her made the ache grow almost like a stomach ache. She felt like she was dying from the emotional pain. She took a deep breath, she had to do this.

"You were good to me, take care of mom until I get there okay? I need you so bad dad, I need you to feel alive, I need mom. I can't do this." The tears streaming down her cheeks made her eyes burn and she closed them as she took a deep breath in again.

"But I will try, I have Uncle Sam."

~~~

The funeral for a hunter was finally done, Sam watched her put on the last of the wood around Dean. The only thing left was in Sam's hand. She stood by the wood clutching tightly the too-large jacket around her frame the scent she ached for surrounded in it. Her father was wrapped in a white blanket in the middle of the wood she and Sam had built for him. She desperately ached to touch his skin, to hug him, and feel arms wrap around her.

This ache was so familiar, the ache to touch her mother to have something. She never got that something. She never got to feel one last time, she never got one last look. The closure that was staring at her in the face with her dad was there but she didn’t grasp it. What closure? To accept that this was the end? This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

She wanted more time, what she had wasn't enough, the memories weren't enough. The memories with her mother weren't enough, how could they ever be. Whenever they were together that bond that was formed before she was even born made her want to stay close forever. It hurt that she didn't get it. It wasn't fair. Why her? What wrong did she do that she didn’t deserve her parents? Was it being born? Against heaven law her ass. She deserved to live just like any other angel and human. She was a product of love not hate.

"You are loved, we wanted you, we waited for you. I love you, we will protect you until our last breath because you are everything to us. Whenever you can't find your way remember to do things for love, remember you were made out of love not hate. I know you will do great things."

This ache in her chest she knew wouldn't go away, it never went away after her mother why would it with her father. Why would grief give her a break? She grazed her fingers along with the wood closest to her father and stepped back giving her uncle a look as he passed her the white rose in his palm. She clutched it close to her and watched Sam clutch the lighter almost hesitantly.

She grasped his arm, "We'll do it together uncle Sam, remember, we only have each other now." Sam gave her a teary smile and her eyes couldn't help but fill with tears at seeing her uncle look so devastated.

Sam nodded grasping her hand with his as they lit the lighter,

"Goodbye, Daddy."

"Goodbye, Dean."

A/N: sorry if it's not that good I wrote this while crying

#dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean deserves better #sam and dean #spn #destiel #jack #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #castiel #dean fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #daughter!reader #angst #death tw

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wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I just discovered your blog and I was wondering if you'd be okay doing a Lance tucker x reader where they get in an argument but it has a fluffy ending where they're closer than they were before? Maybe they confess their feelings to each other? I totally understand if you're not able or comfortable to write this.

Merry Christmas! 🎄🤶🎅🌲🎁

Authors Notes: Hey! I hope this is something similar to what you were looking for. They’re expressing their feelings in some way, just maybe not the way you’d think. I hope you like it!

Lance Tucker x Reader

Warnings: Arguing, swearing, insinuation of possible cheating, and some downright shitty friends.

Word Count: 3K

Trouble in Paradise

(Not my gif)

_______________________________________________

It was New Year’s Eve. The year had been stressful to say the least but even worse, Lance’s buddies were coming over for a party. It’s not that you didn’t like his friends. Well, it was that. You didn’t like them. Ever since you and Lance got together three years ago, they have done nothing but try to convince him to date hotter women. “Date” being a loose term.

Overheard conversations during football games and dart/pool games and the basement went something like this.

“Oh, come on Lance you saw the chicks you used to pull. They were smokin’. Why don’t you just live again? Or better yet, you don’t even have to break up with her! Just, you know, tell her you got competitions and when she doesn’t suspect it, book a couple hotel rooms. What’s the harm?”

“Lance, buddy, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don’t exactly have a trophy wife. Aren’t you the one with the gold medal? Shouldn’t you be looking for a gold medal wife instead of a bronze one?”

“I like her Lance, I really do, but remember that Victoria’s Secret model you hooked up with regularly like 5 years ago? What was her name... uh... Serenity! Yeah, why don’t you give her a call. You guys seemed to really click.”

The worst part of it all was they never really got to know you. They brushed past you while you cooked some food for them in the kitchen. You and Lance took turns cooking but somehow you always found that you were cooking when his friends were coming over. You had never really put much thought into it, until tonight.

“Honey! I’m home from the gym!”

You were making taco dip, guacamole, homemade Mac and cheese, and Buffalo chicken dip for the big party. You ordered pizzas, subs, and other sides to top it off. You never knew how much 8 men could eat, until you started cooking for 8 men.

Lance came up behind you and gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “How’s my pretty girl doing?”

“Fine, I guess.”

You both knew you weren’t fine.

Lance sighs loudly. “Angel, what is wrong? You know I just want to help you.”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, I just want to get in my cooking zone and not think about anything.”

Lance puts his hands on his hips and stares at you authoritatively.

“Well, I’m gonna go quick grab a shower and come back down to help you finish cooking before the boys come.”

“Sounds good” you said with a half-smile. You were dreading tonight.

_______________________________________________

True to his word, Lance came down and helped you finish cooking the rest of the food. It remained quiet for most of the time you spent together. Lance could feel the tension in the air but didn’t want to ask again if anything was wrong before the party. It was New Year’s Eve, he was supposed to be celebrating with his friends, not trying to start a fight with you.

You were infuriated Lance didn’t bother to ask you why you were so upset. You always felt second to his friends, why is that? The first year you were dating it wasn’t like that. You were the center of attention in all regards, you didn’t want to be, but he treated you like the only girl in the world. Now?

“Hey babe I’m going out with the guys I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew full well he would drunkenly slip under the covers at 3AM. Why was he out so late? What was he doing?

“Sweetheart the guys are coming over to play pool do you mind ordering us some pizzas?” Why couldn’t he do it himself?

You really did not mind that Lance had friends. You encouraged him to hang out with them even though they said horrible things about you, but enough was enough. There’s hanging out with your friends, and there’s being with your friends 24/7, leaving your girlfriend to stay home and watch movies by herself.

After you finished cooking you went upstairs to the bedroom to watch a movie. By yourself.

Surprise, surprise.

You heard the front door open for the first time tonight. You wondered if any of the guys would bring over their girlfriends or “hot dates.” You didn’t know if that would relieve your stress or infuriate you even more. If they did bring someone, they wouldn’t be so focused on it being a “boys’ night.” However, if they did bring someone, why couldn’t you come downstairs to hang out with them?

You heard a slap of hands exchanged and what you assumed to be a half hug after it.

The men continued to pile in around 8PM. Some of them brought a date, but others didn’t. However, you noticed one of the guys brought two girls. Why would he do that?

You decided to put on some nice clothes to go downstairs. Other men were bringing their dates, and this was your house. You deserve to celebrate too.

You worked your way down to the basement, wanting to spend time with your definitely above average looking boyfriend. You were so happy to call him yours, even though he frustrated you to no end sometimes. From what you overhear, he never sticks up for you.

You strutted over him and placed your hand on his back gently. He quickly turns around, angry almost and begins to say something “I told you I don’t want.... oh, hi baby.”

You looked at him confused. What was that about?

“Hi... what’s uh, what’s going on?”

“Oh nothin’. Just Evan and I got into it earlier about something and I thought he was coming to bother me about it again. But then I turn around to see your pretty face and that doesn’t even matter.”

He brings you in for a tight hug and rests his chin on your head. You loved him. You loved him so much.

Out of nowhere Evan comes up behind you, noticeably drunk, the scent of liquor oozing off of him. There’s a girl attached to his right arm. She’s tall, slender, and blonde. You thought she was too attractive for Evan, until he started to speak.

“Lance, meet my girl Lindsay here. She’s really interested in you and wants to talk to you about your gold medal.”

You can’t say this never happened. You were used to women throwing themselves at Lance. You were always so proud to call Lance yours, but other women wanted that opportunity as well. It got so bad to the point where women would send random lewd photos to his work email to gain his attention. It never worked thank god. Every time you saw pictures like that you got suspicious, but every message read “don’t you want to see what you’re missing out on?” or something to that degree. Lance was always patient and kind with you about it, knowing you were easily frustrated and cautious of him because you knew what he was like before. However, you knew he wouldn’t cheat on you, and he always has an explanation if he thought you were ever worried.

“Excuse me?” You said looking at Evan.

“Come on Y/N. Let the man have a little fun.” Evan retorted.

“This isn’t letting him have ‘a little fun.’ Letting him have ‘a little fun’ is hosting this party, not you trying to actively encourage him to cheat on me, right in front of me no less.”

Lindsay sneers at you. “Who are you? Get in line sister. Evan told me I would get to talk to him.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“I don’t know if I have to spell it out for you, if you can even spell, but I’m his girlfriend.”

“Y/N come on baby it’s not that big of a deal. She just wants to talk to me about my gold medal that’s all.”

“The gold medal you won in the Olympics or the one tattooed around your dick Lance?”

“I’ll only talk to her about the one I won in the Olympics and you know that.”

You had had it. You were so incredibly tired of Lance never sticking up for you when it came to situations like this. You never threw a fit when his friends would make stupid remarks, but this was the last straw.

“I don’t care anymore Lance! Talk to her about your dick tattoo. Hell, let her even see your dick tattoo close up while she’s sucking you off. I’m done.”

Without giving him a second glance. you turned on your heel and walked upstairs to grab your car keys.

Lance sprinted up the stairs after you, shouting your name. You didn’t care. You ran to the garage and hit the button to open the door. Lance thought you went to your room, so he sprinted to the third floor thinking you were there. He finally realized you were actually leaving when he heard the start of your car. He saw you back out of the driveway like a bat out of hell, and all he could do was watch from the window.

_______________________________________________

You drove to the nearest diner, hoping they would be open even though it was New Year’s Eve. Thankfully, they were. You always comforted yourself with food when shit like this happened. Who doesn’t love food? You can’t say that entirely though. You also tended to starve yourself in situations like this as well. Neither coping mechanism was healthy, but it got you through it.

You ordered a breakfast meal, quickly glancing at your phone to see if anyone had texted you.

24 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

You knew he was worried about you, but you weren’t ready to call him back yet. You knew he couldn’t come searching for you either, all of his friends still being inside, waiting for the ball to drop. This was going to be the first year you and Lance wouldn’t kiss at midnight, all because of his stupid friends who hate you for no reason.

You ate your meal as you saw Ryan Seacrest introduce one artist after another on the television.

The clock was nearing midnight. You didn’t seem to care. You contemplated going to your friend’s house, knowing they would gladly accept you and support you, especially when they knew how much of an ass Lance’s friends could be. You decided against it, not wanting to bother anyone.

You glanced at your phone again.

28 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

Not only that, but it had looked like he texted you as well.

“Where are you going???”

“Y/N???”

“Baby come back here please I’m very upset and I want to talk”

“Baby please come back and talk to me.”

And about 15 other messages similar to those.

You were heartbroken. You wanted to go home, but you knew you needed to stand your ground.

As the many thousands of people in NYC count down to the New Year you sat and ate your bacon and pancakes.

Lance saw all of his buddies laughing and having a good time. He couldn’t have a good time until he knew you were safe and that he would have everything fixed. He knew he fucked up big time, but he thought you were overreacting to the extreme. Was it really that bad you needed to leave right away?

His annoyance throughout the night grew as Lindsay began to pester him about his interests.

“Lindsay, I don’t know how to tell you this in a nice way, so I won’t. I have a girlfriend. She’s the sexiest, smartest, and sweetest woman on this planet, and that’s all that matters to me. Now please, go bother Johnny or somethin’.”

Lindsay didn’t like that. So much so, she dumped her whole glass of whiskey on his brand-new Nike shoes. He didn’t care she was upset. All he cared about was you.

Evan came back up to Lance for the last time of the night.

“Heyyuh pal. I didn’t mean to make your lady run out on ya.”

“But you did Evan. You fucking idiot, you stupid fucking fucker. You ruined this night for not only me, but my girl who is probably out sobbing to her friends about how much of a shit boyfriend I am. And you know what? I don’t blame her. I deserve it.”

“C’mon man don’t be so *burp* hard on yourself. Hey, at least you can go have fun with Lindsay eh?” He says while wiggling his eyebrows.

Lance was fuming. “Evan if you don’t get the fuck out of my face, I’m going to floor you in about 6 seconds.”

Evan held up his hands and backed away, finally getting the hint he was becoming a nuisance to not only Lance, but the party itself.

He listened to all of his friends count down to the new year in a drunken haze. He slouched over the home bar, drinking himself into a stupor with his seventh gin and tonic. He didn’t care about any of the calories he was consuming. He didn’t care about anything. He knew he wouldn’t have his Angel to hold and kiss into the new year. He wanted nothing more for this night to just end.

_______________________________________________

You snuck back into the house around 4AM, hoping Lance wasn’t awake. You drove around for hours after the ball dropped, the diner closing at 1AM anyways. You listened to 80’s music, calming yourself down. Music always helped you meditate.

As you slowly closed the door you saw Lance sitting miserably in his recliner. He was no longer drunk. Just incredibly depressed.

He turned to look at the door, hoping that the door opening and closing wasn’t just some sleep induced hallucination. As soon as he realized it was you, he jolted up and ran to give you a hug. You stuck your arm out before he could reach you.

He looked devastated.

“I want to talk Lance. I-”

“No, no I fucked up. Let me do this. I have been shit. I have been absolute and utter fucking garbage to you when it comes to my friends. I let them talk to me like I’m still a bachelor. I know you overhear the things they say, and it hurts you. And I let them do that. I don’t know why. I have no reason. It was so fucking stupid of me. You have to know I don’t want any other woman on this planet. You’re my day and my night. I would be lost in this depressing ass place of a world if it wasn’t for you my sweet Angel. My beacon of light.” He stopped his rant briefly to cup your face and stare into your eyes lovingly.

“It all stops here. No more stupid guy shit. You’re my number one and you deserve to be treated that way. If any of my friends continues to disrespect my baby, they’re out. I don’t care who they are and how long they’ve been around. You’re my baby. You’re the only thing that matters.

It felt like a weight had just been lifted off of your chest. You loved him. You really did.

He pulled you in for the tightest hug that he could have possibly ever given. He kisses the top of your forehead for what seems like a hundred times.

You look up to him while he’s still embracing you.

“I like Johnny. Johnny can stay.” You say with a smile.

“Keeping Storm it is, got it.” He returned with a smile.

A lightbulb goes on in Lance’s head. “Oh! Come here, come here, come here. I saved this for you.”

You follow him into the living room, your hand wrapped in his. He flicks through the TV menu, clicking to find the recording from earlier.

It was the ball drop.

“I recorded this for us. I didn’t want to miss kissing my baby into the new year.” He said with a smile.

“Lance Tucker, you are the sweetest man alive, do you know that?”

“C’mon, you know I’m still an asshole. I just have my moments.” He says with an eyeroll.

You slapped his chest playfully as you both slightly laughed.

As the seconds ticked down to midnight for the second time of the night, Lance stared into your eyes with the most love you have ever felt from a person.

“10!”

“Where did you even go anyways?”

“9!”

“Our spot.”

“8!”

I’m gonna take you on the best date there ever was. Just you wait.”

“7!”

“I’ll be counting on that Tucker. A promise is a promise.”

“6!”

“I’m really good at keeping promises.”

“5!”

“Oh really? Just like that time you promised to give me a castle made out of gold?”

“4!”

“You’re still getting that y’know.”

“3!”

“What other promises have you kept huh?”

“2!”

“I promised to love you forever. And I always will.”

“1!”

“I love you too, Lance.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

He kissed you with a ferocity you didn’t know existed. He took your bottom lip into his mouth and held it there for what seemed like forever. Forever was okay though, as long as you were with him.

Lance finally broke the kiss, pulling away softly and cupping your face in his left hand. He whispered.

“Check your cardigan pocket.”

You looked confused. He knew you would be. You felt a tiny box in you right hand pocket. It was covered in felt. You slowly pulled it out to see that it was a ring box. You opened it and it had a ring pop inside.

“Ha-ha. Very funny Tuc-”

You looked down to see Lance on one knee. Holding the most beautiful ring you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m going to love you forever, Y/N. Will you marry me?”

You were stunned.

“...Yes.... oh my god, YES!”

He smiled, standing up and wrapping his arms around you as fast as he could.

“I’ll love you forever too, Lance.”

#lance tucker #sebastian stan characters #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x you

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harryhandstan · 4 years ago

Text

my only angel

super fluffy harry taking care of you during your period!

tiny mention of mustache!harry and italy!harry towards the end (just the outfit he was wearing in the most recent pictures for reference)

word count: 2,383

@geoffwittek is an angel for being my beta reader and putting up with all my technical problems today haha

tw: blood mention // tw: pills (ibuprofen)

It had been a restless night for you.

Harry, like always, had slept peacefully next to you.

Around 6 a.m., you got up to go to the bathroom only to discover the reason for your restless night. The cramps should have been a sign, but if they weren't, the blood on your underwear now confirmed it.

You quickly finished up and ran back to the bed. Thank goodness nothing had leaked through to the sheets or blankets on your side. Not that Harry would be upset, but you would have felt guilty.

Harry stirs slightly, "Y'okay, bub?"

"Yeah, H. I'm fine. Just got too hot and can't fall back asleep. I'm gonna take a shower, okay? I'm alright." He nods and his eyes flutter closed again.

You quickly gather a change of clothes, careful not to make too much noise. Oversized t-shirt, new underwear, comfy shorts, and fuzzy socks. Your go-to comfort outfit.

The hot water fills the small bathroom with steam quickly. At the last minute you decide to light the vanilla candle, knowing it's one of Harry's favorite scents.

Right after you step in and close the curtain, you hear the squeak of the door.

"Baby? You sure you're alright? Oh.." His voice is still somewhat heavy with sleep. You know by the way his voice dropped that he saw the bloody clothes.

"I'm okay, really. I'm sorry I woke you. I'll be out soon." Your voice echoes faintly off the tiles.

"No worries. You need anything? I can run to the 24 hour shop on the corner?"

"No, no I have everything I need. Go back to bed, babe." You poke your head around the curtain and give him a tired smile to reassure him.

"Alright. Just shout if you change your mind or need me."

You take your time, hoping that Harry actually listened to you and laid back down for more rest. Knowing him though, he had already taken the clothes and thrown them in the washing machine for you. He was most likely searching for your heating pad and making sure he had enough ibuprofen on hand for you for the next week. Harry had become a pro at taking care of you when you needed it.

Your suspicions were correct. The clothes were gone and after dressing quickly and running a comb through your hair, you find Harry fiddling with the cords of the heating pad, trying to untangle them.

"Here, plug this in on your side. There's an outlet behind the-"

"Harry, I know where the outlet is, angel. I don't need that right now. The cramps aren't that bad."

The look of sleepy confusion he gives you almost makes you laugh out loud, but you're able to stop yourself so you don't hurt his feelings. He's being so sweet trying to take care of you.

"I'll leave it on my side just in case I need it, alright?" You take it from him and finally convince him to lay back down.

But your body decides to betray you as you're getting comfortable in bed. A particularly intense cramp hits and you're thankful the light is still off so Harry doesn't see the wave of pain cross your face. Unfortunately, you can't stop the wince that escapes your lips.

"That's it, here," he sits up and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen that you're sure he snuck in the kitchen and grabbed from the medicine cabinet while you were still in the bathroom, "There's no point in trying to be brave. You need this. Take it."

He shakes out two of the small, round orange pills into his hand and extends them out to you, "Hold these. I'll go get you some water."

He's up before you can stop him. His feet shuffle across the carpet and he makes it to the doorway, "Harry, no.." emotion hits you out of nowhere and you feel hot tears starting to form. You feel so ashamed and embarrassed for letting yourself get so overwhelmed so quickly.

He's back to your side in a second, "I didn't mean to upset you I just..if you won't use the heating pad and you won't take something for pain..how am I supposed to help you through this, honey?"

You know if you can just get comfortable enough to fall asleep for a while, things will be better.

You both sit in awkward silence for what seems like ages, just the sound of your soft sobs and the feel of his warm hands soothing up and down your arm, trying to console you. Finally, he breaks the silence, "Tell me what y'need, love. I'll do anything to help."

"Want you," it seems so childish, and you know you'll hate yourself later for being so needy, "Just want you to hold me, H."

"Alright, I can do that. But you gotta let me do my job and take care of you first, deal? Two of these and some water and I'm all yours."

You nod an agreement and Harry squeezes your shoulder before disappearing to the kitchen and coming back with a glass of water, "Here, the bottle says you can have 2."

The pills go down easily and your reward is a "good girl" praise from Harry.

A shiver rolls over your body, "You cold, lovie? You want an extra blanket or a hoodie?"

"Hoodie. One of yours?" You hate the neediness in your voice but all you want right now is comfort so you let the wants and needs overtake your guilt. You could hate yourself for it later.

"Of course, bub. Be right back," You shiver again but he's only gone for a second before he's back, "C'mon, arms up. There ya go. Comfy?"

You nod again. Exhaustion is starting to set in. Warm arms wrap around you and you fall into them, the two of you adjusting until you're settled back down.

The arms tighten their grip slightly. Just enough to pull you closer. He moves one hand to cradle behind your head, in your hair. The other arm draped over you with his hand firmly on the small of your back. The tips of his fingers softly move over your scalp and through your hair and you're grateful for the touch. It's another want you were too tired to express.

He kisses your forehead and mumbles a sleepy "love you" in your ear before you both drift off.

When you wake a few hours later, there's an emptiness to the bed. You're still surrounded by warmth, but you quickly realize it’s not Harry.

Pillows. He had replaced himself with pillows. One under your side and one pressed firmly against your back. As if they could ever be a replacement for his softness.

Faint noise can be heard in another part of the space you share. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you discover the noise coming from the kitchen.

Harry stands over the stove, his back is to you but you can tell he's stirring something, "Harry?"

"Hey! There's my sleepy girl," He crosses the kitchen in a few steps to meet you, "I was hoping you would sleep a little longer so I could surprise you with lunch."

He envelopes you in an embrace so deep you fight not to cry again. You've never had someone love you as much as he loves you. Any touch from him reassures you and reminds you of that. It had been a source of frustration for him in the beginning of your relationship, getting you to accept and learn that you deserve the love he continuously showered you with. You still had days where it was hard, today was one of them.

You hide your face in his chest and just let him hold you. He kisses the top of your head and then loops one of his long fingers under your chin, pulling your gaze back up to his, "How's your tummy feel? Any better?"

His hand rests on your hip and rubs small circles on your side. You notice the absence of rings and fingernail polish today. It feels so strange and foreign but it only means he feels comfortable enough with you to leave them plain and untouched.

"Better."

"Good. You hungry? I attempted to make mac and cheese for you. The white cheddar kind you love so much."

You don't have the heart to tell him no, he's so proud of himself, "Yeah. Sounds good."

After lunch, you both sprawl out on the couch in front of the tv, Harry flipping through the channels until he lands on one of those cheesy romance movies he knows you're secretly obsessed with.

He sits opposite you, your head propped up on throw pillows, your feet stretched out into his lap. His hand smooths up and down your leg, eyes still focused on the tv. He won't admit it, but he gets just as sucked into these movies as you do. You don't even think he realizes what his hands are doing, it's just second nature at this point for him to be touching you in some way.

When the movie takes a sad turn, you find yourself wiping your eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie you're still wrapped in.

"Angel." His voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it's loud enough to make your head turn towards him to see he's gesturing for you to join him on his side of the couch. You shift around, head falling into his lap, his fingers running through your hair.

Normally he would tease you about getting so emotional over these movies, an elbow nudged playfully into your side until you look at him and both fall into a fit of giggles about how silly it was. He doesn't do that now, just watches you for a minute, thumb swiping away tears, "What part made you so sad, baby?"

"She lost her husband. He was just gone and I..I know you're not my husband but, you're mine and I couldn't imagine losing you like that." The tears are free flowing now, the thought a vivid image in your mind because of the scene that just played.

"Oh, lovie. You're not gonna lose me. Not anytime soon, anyway. And definitely not like what happened in the movie. Was a little ridiculous how he just.."

You cut him off with a kiss, sitting up to press your lips tenderly into his. He leans into it, a hand slipping behind your neck to gently push you into a more upright position in his lap, pressing slightly firmer before pulling away, "What was that for?"

"Just a thank you for taking such good care of me, being so good to me. The clothes and the food..this."

"You're welcome, this is my favorite part. Seeing you all soft and emotional. I don't always get to see that side of you, you hide it so well. Clothes are fine, by the way, I pulled them out of the dryer earlier. I put them away for you."

He chuckles, "Was so anxious I might wake you up with that squeaky drawer of yours. You looked so sweet, face smushed against my pillow."

"Oh no, H. I was probably snoring! I don't know how you stand to sleep with me." You bury your face in your hands so he doesn't see the deep shade of crimson spreading across your face.

"Hey, none of that now." He pulls one hand away from your face, bringing it down to settle on his chest, "But yes, you were. It was incredibly adorable."

He kisses your forehead, pausing there for a moment longer than he ordinarily would.

"Hmm, that feels nice. Do that again, made my head feel better."

"Yeah? Your head aching, darling?" Warm fingers move across your face, his thumb landing on a spot right between your eyebrows, "Here?"

You nod, leaning in to his touch, a contented sigh slipping from your mouth.

"Was thinking about what we should do for dinner, if you feel up to going out."

"Mhmm, what were you thinking?" You're still floating, absorbing every bit of his touch.

"Thought we could try that new Italian place up the street, the one that just opened across from the bakery with those cookies you love so much. We could go there after. Or we could get dessert from the restaurant..they had a nice selection. I looked at the menu online while you were distracted by the movie. We could also get it as takeaway or have it delivered if you'd rather. It's up to you."

"Let's go there. Wanna see you all dressed up." You open your eyes, hands drifting to his jaw, then up to cradle his cheeks. Thumbs smoothing over the mustache covering his upper lip.

"Yeah? Like it when I get all pretty for you, huh?" A smug smile brightens his whole face.

"Mhmm." Your teeth sweep your bottom lip into your mouth, unable to stop the smile that flashes across your own face.

"Alright then, love. You're the boss. Be ready in 30, yeah?"

30 minutes turned into 45 and he impatiently watches you, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. He's selected a simple black, short sleeve button down shirt. He’s left a few buttons undone, pairing it with bright linen pants. A silver cross necklace shines against his tan skin.

"Just a second, can't get this curl to cooperate." You twist it in your fingers, trying to make it settle in with the others framing your face.

You're considering turning the curling iron back on to run through it again, when he lifts himself from the door frame and slowly steps behind you, eyes never straying from your reflection in the mirror. They sweep over you, taking in every inch of your curves, the soft flowy fabric of your dress hugging all the right features. One hand rests on your hip, while the other brushes your hair back away from your neck. He places a kiss to your exposed shoulder, then up to dip into the curve of your neck.

"Better hurry, baby," his eyes dart up to meet yours in the mirror, "I might not make it to the restaurant before I want dessert."

#harry x reader #harry styles imagine #bf!harry #my writing #pretty proud of this honestly #the end was kind of rushed but..#enjoy!

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hihellogoodbyebruh · 4 years ago

Text

Is She the Reason?

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader

Summary: Angel has been distant lately and Y/N discovers the reason why.

Warning(s): Foul language, angst, cheating :(

Word count: 1,831

Author’s Note: I’ve been in a sad mood so this kind of came out of that. Plus of course the Destiny’s Child song of the same title was inspiration. There is kind of a prequel in my docs that may get posted in the future. We shall see. Also the text in the gif isn’t relevant, I just needed sad Angel. Questions, comments, and concerns are always welcome. My inbox is open. Enjoy!

Part 2

The MC was dealing with a very busy couple of weeks. With the Galindos now working with Rebels, the Mayans were needed to help facilitate the relationship incognito. Angel had a position now so his responsibilities were even greater and you’d seen him less and less. He used to call and text frequently, but you stopped receiving those all the time as well. Something felt wrong, but you chalked it up to him just being busy. You missed just being in his arms and seeing that annoyingly sexy smile on his face. You knew the guys were running day in and day out so you wanted to do something for them. With the help of Chucky, you organized a special dinner for everyone. You knew it could get interrupted with urgent club news, but you had to try.

With meat provided by Pops and sides prepared by you, the boys practically had a feast laid out in the middle of the clubhouse. You had come to really care about all members of the club. Your father was a retired police captain who always had a soft spot for the club. He was actually friends with Bishop and Marcus. You’d known them all your life. Of course EZ, Coco, and Gilly had a special place in your heart because of their closeness to Angel. They became like brothers to you quickly. EZ was the baby brother with the gentle soul, Coco was the wild one, and Gilly was just so damn lovable. They were the perfect balances for Angel and you were so happy he had them in his life.

As you finished making sure everything was laid out to perfection, you heard the rumblings of engines outside.

“They’re here!” Chucky excitedly declared and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes I can hear that Chucky. Start opening some beers up, yeah?” You suggested and he nodded his head as he followed instructions. You had just made your way from behind the bar when the doors opened.

“Something smells good as fuck in here. No way Chucky cooked.” Bishop stated as he walked in with Taza and Loza behind him.

“Absolutely not. I love y’all too much for that. I figured you busy men deserved a nice home cooked meal. Dig in, Jefe.” You announced, smiling at them. Obispo was like a second father to you. Your father and him had developed a highly unlikely friendship that was still strong after all these years. They played cards every week.

“Gracias, chica.” Bishop replied, placing a paternal kiss on the side of your head before walking towards where Chucky had beers lined out.

You were greeted and hugged by the rest of the gang, with Coco and Gilly pulling up the rear.

“You cooked, Y/N? Please tell me you made mac and cheese.” Coco asked, with the closest thing to a pout on his face that you’d ever see.

“Nope. Not this time.” You lied, just to see his and Gilly’s faces dropped. It was so funny.

“I’m just playing. Of course I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence because Gilly and Coco were racing each other to get to the pan first.

“Y’all better share!” You yelled after them, laughing and shaking your head before heading towards the door. Angel hadn’t been inside yet so you figured he was outside talking to EZ. You had on your favorite pair of jeans that hugged your ass just how he liked it and you had recently taken down your braids to let your natural hair breathe. You had a fresh twist out and you knew your tight curls bouncy and shining in the sunlight.

As you stepped outside, you spotted Angel immediately. He was leaning against the side of the opened van door speaking with a woman sitting down on the van’s floor. You tried not to let yourself be the jealous type. Angel was a very attractive man that often had girls trying to holla at him. He never seemed to entertain them. Nah, it wasn’t the fact that he was talking to a woman that bothered you. It’s the way he was talking to her.

He was completely engrossed by her. You could only see his profile but you recognized the softness in his face. It’s the same look he would give to you. The look that had you feeling like you were the center of his universe. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched the genuine smile that spread across his face as he became amused at something the woman said. You watched his hand run up her forearm and give it a gentle squeeze. There was nothing overtly sexual happening, but the intimacy of it all broke your heart.

The woman wasn’t someone familiar to you. At first. But then you spotted the unique tattoo on her neck. You had heard that tattoo described before. Adelita. The rebel leader. She was beautiful. There was a quiet power to her that almost pulled you in. All of the dots began connecting in your head. All those times he mentioned Adelita and how smart she was, how brave she was, what a badass she was. You thought it was just respect, but now you see it’s more than that. Something was going on between them.

Noise caught your attention and from your peripheral you spotted EZ coming out from his RV. You watched him assess the situation in seconds flat. You turned your head to make eye contact with him and the sad smile on his face, the apology written clear as day there, took your breath away. You felt a tear slide down your face and you turned around to quickly wipe it away.

When you turned back around, EZ had walked over and broken up the conversation. Angel finally turned around and saw you there. You could have swore you saw a quick flash of guilt cross his face before he walked over to you.

“Hey querida.” He kissed your forehead and pulled you into a hug.

Even with your confusion, heartbreak, and anger you couldn’t help completely folding into the hug. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and you found yourself inhaling his scent. “Hi.” You breathed out as you finally pulled back from the hug.

“Hey Y/N/N, what are you doing here?” EZ asked, giving you a one armed squeeze.

“I cooked dinner for y’all. There’s plenty inside. Even for your friend here.” You mentioned, with a nod in the woman’s direction. “Except maybe the mac and cheese if someone didn’t stop Coco and Gilly from being hogs.”

“Gracias,” Adelita told you before walking inside the clubhouse with EZ. You watched as Angel watched her for a second before dragging his eyes back to you. There was a silence between y’all before you broke it.

“Is she the reason?” You quietly asked Angel.

“What?”

You scrubbed your hands over your face, trying to hold yourself together. “Is she the reason? The reason you don’t call like you used to? Come around my place like you used to? Or put it on me hard like you used to do?”

“Y/N, it’s not like that.”

“I didn’t ask what it’s like. I asked if she’s the reason that my calls didn't reach you? The deepest of my love couldn’t please you? Tell me the truth right fucking now. I deserve to know.”

There was another silence between y’all as you just stared in his eyes. You were begging, practically pleading with him to tell you that you were wrong. You were putting too much on nothing. That there was no one else… “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Angel sighed, and you felt your heart drop into your stomach

“No..no, no, NO fucking dammit Angel!” You shoved him hard, your heartbreak manifesting as anger. “You promised me…”

He stumbled back a little at your push. “I’m so sorry Y/N. We were just working together, but something about her I-”

You cut him off with an angry hiss, “Shut up!” You didn’t want to hear all the things he found so wonderful about her. They didn’t matter. You just started pacing back and forth in front of him. You guys were lucky the yard was closed today and that EZ probably told everyone to stay inside and give y’all space. But honestly, you didn’t even care if you made a scene right now.

“You told me that before you stepped, you’d let me know. You promised you’d tell me if anything changed. You promised to be honest. You promised not to embarrass me. You promised, Angel, you promised…” Your voice broke as the full realization hit you. He’d been carrying out this affair for however long and he didn’t have the decency to tell you. You’ve been worried about him this whole time, but he’s been having himself a great time. You couldn’t stop the tears that flowed.

His eyes closed in guilt and sadness as you started to cry. He never wanted to hurt you. He just got into a situation that spiraled out of control. “Lo siento mucho cariño.”

You just shook your head, unable to believe his words. Unable to believe what was happening. “Before you let me see you with her, you could have told me a change was gonna come. Told me something, anything...but no. How could you let it go this far if you had doubts that I wasn’t the one?”

“I didn’t have any doubts. It didn’t happen like that. I love you, but I just….I can’t explain it.”

“Love? You love me?” You repeated, your voice hoarse and breaking with the word. This wasn’t love. Love should never have so much confusion. Your mind was spinning and you needed to leave. Immediately. “I can’t do this.” You try to walk away but he grabs you.

“Y/N wait, please…” He pleaded, taking your hand and that physical contact caused you to snap.

“GET OFF ME!” You yelled at him, snatching your hand back. All thoughts of not making a scene left your mind. You were reacting from pure hurt. Your scream brought out the men from the clubhouse. “And don’t ever touch me again. We’re done, Angel. We’re so fucking over. You need to get your shit together, but I’m not gonna wait around until you do.”

And then you were rushing to your car and speeding out of the scrap yard. Angel tried his best to keep himself together even as he felt like his heart was beat out of his chest. He wanted to race after you but all he could do was watch you go. He felt someone step up beside him.

“I thought I told you not to be stupid, Angel.” Bishop told him, eyes still on the road your car sped down. He was pissed.

“Bish, I-” Angel started, but was interrupted by Bishop’s fist meeting his mouth. He fell to the ground, wiping at his busted lip.

“Just stay away from her.”

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #hhgbyebruh fics #is she the reason

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themurphyzone · 3 years ago

Text

Nova Ch 12

AN: I’ve been waiting to write this chapter for so long! Can you believe it’s been a year since I started this story?

Ch 12: Mare

AO3 Link

Dear Mickey Mouse Calendar,

It’s May 2nd, and you know what that means! Well, besides bringing May flowers of course! The flowers are going to be so beautiful this year, I can tell! Especially once they bring the butterflies and the birds and the bees! Oh dear, do you think Brain knows about the factory in the sky that produces cute little mouse babies? I hope so.

Anyway, the beautiful, lovely, fantabulous Pharfignewton’s gonna be running in the Derby in just a little bit! She’s worked really really hard to get this far, and I’m super proud of her! She’s gonna be one step closer to the Triple Crown when she wins!

Anyway, I’m running out of room on this page, so I just wanted to say I love you, Figgy Pudding! May the best mare win!

Love,

Pinky

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky added a heart by his name with a sparkly pink gel pen and blew a kiss to the image of Mickey and Minnie driving a cute little car into the sunset. Then he recapped the pen, washed his hands of extra glitter, and returned to the TV, which had been tuned into the Kentucky Derby for the past two hours.

They were still conducting pre-race interviews with the owners, jockeys, and trainers. Though there were several saddled horses with colorful numbers in the background, none of them were Pharfignewton.

But they were still very beautiful horses, clopping around on the dirt-covered track as they flicked their ears and tails in anticipation of the race.

Several boxes of leftover pizza and paper plates were laid out in front of the television.. It was so nice of the scientists to throw a pizza party and let them have the leftovers! Pepperoni, mac and cheese, and pineapple pizza were all so delicious, and they tasted even better when all three were combined on a single slice!

Pinky popped a pineapple cube in his mouth, giggling as it stung his tongue. Then he turned to his hat, which laid a short distance away from the leftover pizza so it didn’t get soiled. Lovely, glittery red and purple roses decorated the outside of the hat, and every inch was decked with colorful feathers, encouraging messages, and Pharfignewton’s name so everybody for miles around could see he was rooting for his favorite horse.

Since the hat was too big and heavy for him to wear throughout the pre-race festivities, he decided to just put it on a few minutes before the race instead.

And it was so sweet of Gummy, Madame Daisy, Nicholas, and Mr. Button to support Pharfignewton! They were all gathered in front of the TV so they could watch the Derby too!

Pinky’s ear twitched at a gagging noise on his left, and he turned his head just in time to see Brain spit a chunk of pineapple onto a napkin.

“Of all things, why in Selene’s name would you ruin perfectly good cheese with battery acid?” Brain snapped. He immediately dunked his muzzle into a thimble of water.

“Batteries aren’t a pizza topping,” Pinky said. Did batteries look like pineapples on New Selene? “And pineapple pizza tastes delicious!”

Brain scowled as he shoved the paper plate with his barely touched pineapple pizza slice towards Pinky, then grabbed a new plate and loaded it with two slices of pepperoni.

“I’m outlawing that vile piece of filth you call food as soon as I rule the world,” Brain declared.

“You can’t do that!” Pinky cried. What was next? Declaring pumpkin spice illegal? He would never support such an awful law! “That’s...that’s just unconstitutional! A breach of power! I won’t stand for it, Brain!”

Then he realized he was standing up to grab the pineapple pizza slice, so he promptly sat down and chomped on pineapple, tomato sauce, and bread to prove his point.

Brain wrinkled his nose, but before he could reply, the TV panned to show a beautiful, gray-maned white horse prancing in circles around her jockey, nearly tying him up in her reins.

“That’s her! That’s Pharfignewton!” Pinky yelled, spewing tomato sauce from his mouth. “Hi, Fig! It’s me, Pinky!”

Pinky quickly set his pizza down and slipped the hat on, sitting underneath the brim while the rest of the hat was propped against the counter. He hoped Pharfignewton could see the messages he’d written.

“The cameras aren’t two-way, Pinky,” Brain said, but Pharfignewton whinnied happily, so Pinky knew she could hear him from thousands of miles away!

She wore a beautiful pink cloth over her back with the number fifteen emblazoned in white, with a brown saddle on top. She tossed her head back and whinnied, her reins quivering in the sunlight. Her jockey slipped a pink mask over her face, and when she turned to look at the camera, her gorgeous blue eyes stood out even more.

“You have quite the unusual horse here, Mr. Gardner,” the reporter said to Pharfignewton’s owner, who Pinky recognized by his bushy beard. “Not much of a looker, nor was she sired from any famous line of racehorses. And only one fellow’s bet on her at all.”

Pinky frowned. Not much of a looker? That reporter’s obviously never seen Pharfignewton with the wind flowing through her mane, or the joyful neighs whenever she galloped around a field, or how she practically glowed whenever she ran.

Mr. Gardner leveled a glare at the reporter, who withered from the intense look. “Pharfignewton may have a different build from her fellow racehorses, but she’s a hundred times more passionate about racing than anyone else. It’s true that neither of her parents have competed on the national level, but she’s inherited her mother’s spirit and her father’s diligence, a mixture of traits which will suit her well today.”

“Yes...I’m sure it will,” the reporter muttered. His eyes darted to a chestnut horse with a yellow cloth draped over his back. “Oh, would you look at the time? I don’t believe I’ve gotten a chance to talk with Mayoneighaise’s team yet!”

He scurried off, the cameraman trailing behind him.

A board flashed onscreen, showing the horses’ names and numbers before cutting to commercial.

“Mr. Legs? Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse? Is this entire competition just an excuse to saddle these poor creatures with horrific names?” Brain asked over the noise of a car commercial.

“You can’t saddle a name. You saddle horses, Brain,” Pinky said. Brain could be so confused sometimes.

“And they barely gave Pharfignewton the time of day,” Brain added. “But they dedicated a full fifteen minutes to Arabian Night’s training sessions.”

Pinky shrugged. “Well, Arabian Night worked really hard. He deserved that time. And so does Maximus and Maverick and Black Beauty and Rainbow Dash and-”

“It’s blatant favoritism,” Brain cut in.

The commercial break ended, and the broadcast showed a female reporter approaching an enormous, muscular black stallion with a comically small jockey leading him by the reins. He bore a royal purple cloak with number one written in a fancy golden script on his back. The horse was so dark that Pinky could barely see his eyes or mouth.

“And here we have the clear fan-favorite, Daddy’s Little Angel,” the reporter declared as she carefully approached the horse, who huffed when she got too close to his muzzle. She pulled back, keeping her microphone close to her body. “An excellent track record locally and regionally, highest odds tonight, and a descendant of the famous Triple Crown winner Secretariat. He sure has a lot going for him, don’t you think?”

Daddy’s Little Angel was stoic and handsome, and as his owner and trainer listed off his various accomplishments, Pinky crossed his fingers and toes for good luck. Pharfignewton had a whole lot of competition. Sure, she was the fastest racehorse around these parts, but in the Derby she was a small goldfish in a large aquarium full of other fish.

“Zort! Nope, can’t think like that!” Pinky said, thumping his head with his fist. He didn’t want to have doubts about her talent! She was the best, the swiftest, and the fastest at eating apples and hay! There’s no way she could lose!

“Quiet, Pinky. I’m trying to listen,” Brain said. His pink eyes gleamed with interest as a montage of Daddy’s Little Angel’s previous feats flashed across the screen. “I wouldn’t be opposed to owning a horse like that for ceremonial purposes.”

“Parading around on Pharfignewton sounds lovely,” Pinky sighed dreamily.

He imagined Pharfignewton in a beautiful golden outfit, bells on her reins, and prancing down the street to a cheering crowd while he rode on her back. And there were pretty parade floats and celebrities singing and giant balloons of all his favorite characters!

He was broken out of his fantasy by the sound of a fanfare.

“Attention, all riders and horses! Clear the track and proceed to your stalls! The race will commence shortly!” the announcer declared.

The camera lingered on Daddy’s Little Angel for just a little longer before panning out for a wide shot of the horses and jockeys making their way to the starting point, the trainers leading the horses by the reins and securing them in the stalls.

Fifteen horses dressed in colorful racing garb whinnied and bucked their hind legs in anticipation of the race. Daddy’s Little Angel was in the first stall, the one nearest to the fence. Next to him, a majestic, stout white horse named Maximus took the number two slot. Like Daddy’s Little Angel, he was poised, calm, and determined to win.

Most of the other horses were far more impatient though. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t quit stomping in her stall, and Maverick gave her a warning nip when her tail flicked him one too many times. She didn’t like that at all, and both jockeys fought to get their horses under control.

A cinnamon stallion named Spirit thrashed in his stall, nearly throwing his rider off multiple times while two other people tried to calm him down.

Then they finally showed Pharfignewton. She was in the stall closest to the stands, and while she was penned securely, the workers were all focused on the skittish racehorses.

Pharfignewton flashed a horsey smile to the audience, then lowered her head in anticipation for the race to begin.

Pinky’s fingers, toes, and tail were all crossed. She had to win! This was her dream ever since she was a little filly!

“And they’re off!” the announcer declared as the bell rang and the gates opened. All fifteen horses galloped out of the stalls, kicking up dirt as their hooves thundered against the ground. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus off to an early lead! Horsin’ Around’s pulling ahead of Tricky Mickey and...oh! Spirit’s bucked his jockey! That’s gonna cost everyone behind ‘em some time!”

The names and number display at the bottom of the screen shifted around as horses pulled ahead or fell behind.

Pinky’s muscles tensed as Pharfignewton swerved to avoid a riderless Spirit, though Achilles’ Heel was unlucky enough to be caught on a back ankle by a flailing hoof. Pharfignewton fell behind Mr. Legs and Mayoneighase for a split second before increasing her speed and passing them as they reached the first turn.

Pharfignewton was truly in her element! Like a happy, gusty wind spirit!

“YOU CAN DO IT, FIG!” Pinky screamed at the top of his lungs, and there was an angry shushing noise, followed by a parmesan packet smacking the side of his head. “Thanks for the parmesan, Brain!”

“Onto the second turn!” the announcer continued. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus neck and neck! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night fighting for third a mere two lengths away! Maverick trying to squeeze in but there’s no room! Hold onto your fancy hats, folks, this is shaping up to be a wild race!”

Egad, he didn’t want to lose his fancy hat! Pinky clutched the edges with cheese-stained fingers.

“Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus still leading the pack, but trailing them is Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night have fallen to fifth and sixth! Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse trying for a comeback while Maver-what’s this? Pharfignewton’s clawing her way up from tenth, ninth, eighth, seventh...now she’s passed Rainbow Dash! Ladies and gents, this could be the biggest recovery in the Derby’s history!”

Oh, if only he remembered where he’d placed his cotton ball pom-poms! They’d come in super handy right now!

Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee slowed down on the final turn, enabling Pharfignewton to easily overtake them for third place. Then she poured on the speed, closing in between Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus.

“NARF! GO, PHARFIGNEWTON!” Pinky screeched, his hat tumbling off as he leapt to his feet. If he screamed loud enough, Pharfignewton could hear him all the way in Kentucky! And the power of friendship always worked for last-minute wins! His cartoons were never wrong!

“It’s a straight shot to the finish! Maximus falls back by half a length! Ladies and gents, could this be the greatest upset in horse racing history? It’s Pharfignewton! No, Daddy’s Little Angel pulls ahead! Now Pharfignewton! Daddy’s Little Angel!”

Brain was quiet, but from the twitch of his pointed ears and the way he leaned forward, Pinky knew he was just as invested in the race.

The camera centered on the finish line, but Pinky couldn’t tell who crossed first. Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel galloped offscreen just as the rest of the pack, led by Maximus, finished after them.

“WHAT’S THIS? PHARFIGNEWTON AND DADDY’S LITTLE ANGEL HAVE CROSSED THE FINISH LINE AT THE SAME TIME! TURNING THE FOOTAGE OVER FOR REVIEW SO WE CAN DECLARE THE WINNER!”

Pinky quickly found that crossing his toes while standing wasn’t the best idea. He fell flat on his face, but quickly pushed himself up on his elbows as the Derby logo flashed by and replayed the last few seconds of the race in slow motion.

Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel’s legs were just one giant blur next to the finish line, but the reel paused on a shot of Pharfignewton’s flaring nostril crossing the line before Daddy’s Little Angel’s front hooves touched it.

Pinky sucked in his breath.

“PHARFIGNEWTON HAS BEEN DECLARED THE WINNER! CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR VICTORY OVER THE 141ST KENTUCKY DERBY!”

“She did it! She did it! Lo hicimos, she did it!” Pinky jumped for joy, his heart soaring in excitement for Pharfignewton. She was three years old and she’d accomplished so much! He was super duper extra proud of her!

Brain rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, it seems all your supportive efforts have paid off.”

Pinky grinned and tore off a cardboard flap of the pizza box, dumped parmesan cheese all over it, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Nothing tasted better than a victory pizza box with parmesan!

“Want some?” Pinky offered a second flap to Brain. “It’s delicious!”

Brain made a gagging noise. “That can’t possibly be good for your digestive system, Pinky.”

Oh well. More for him then!

Pharfignewton’s back was draped with beautiful roses, her team of humans all rushing up and hugging her as journalists bombarded them all with questions and photographers snapped photo after photo of her horsey smile.

Daddy’s Little Angel trotted up to her with a flower crown in his mouth and dropped it onto her head, then drummed the ground steadily with a front hoof in his version of applause. All the other horses followed his lead. Even Spirit and Achilles’ Heel, who were being restrained by a team of trainers, gave their approval. Pharfignewton whinnied in delight, tossing back her head and showing off the beautiful crown.

She really was the best. Pinky clutched his chest, that warm gooshy feeling of love spreading throughout his body.

He couldn’t contain it much longer, and he picked up Brain to let it all out, and he danced around in joy with a squirming Brain in his arms.

“Pinky, I understand that this outcome is most favorable, but I demand that you cease this at once!” Brain complained.

But Pinky barely heard him. He was more interested in what Mr. Gardner had to say.

“Pharfignewton did an amazing job and we’re very proud of her,” Mr. Gardner said as he fed Pharfignewton an apple, which she gladly inhaled. “Running’s in her blood, and I’m sure she’s made her parents very proud in equine heaven. She’s definitely gonna take the Preakness and Belmont by storm.”

“You think she’s capable of gaining Triple Crown status?” the reporter asked.

Pharfignewton neighed loudly in her direction, messing up the reporter’s hair.

As the reporter struggled to fix it, Mr. Gardner smiled. “I think she made it clear that she takes what she wants.”

Two more races for the Triple Crown. Right.

Pinky stopped dancing, an odd but featherlight weight in his arms. In his excitement, he’d forgotten that Pharfignewton had to win the Preakness and Belmont for her dream to come true.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it. She was a swift runner and the best racehorse in the world. But she would be gone for several months. All the way on the other side of the country.

And he wanted her to achieve her dream so bad. To rank up there with the great racehorses of old.

“Pinky?” a voice choked.

He was accidentally squishing one of Brain’s antennae. Oops.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky quickly said, putting his friend down.

Instead of stepping away like Pinky expected, Brain remained where he was. Brain was too good at forming unreadable expressions. His pretty pink eyes seemed concerned though.

“This is a momentous occasion, isn’t it?” Brain asked. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

Was that Selenian speak for happy?

Yeah, he was supposed to be happy. Pharfignewton won. He was really happy for her. He didn’t want Pharfignewton to think he was a bad friend because he was sad about not seeing her for a while.

“Of course I’m happy for her,” Pinky said. But it was flimsy even to his own mousey ears.

Brain didn’t seem convinced either. One hand awkwardly hovered in the space between them.

A little touch would be nice, and he held super still so Brain wouldn’t get spooked. But a tapping at the window broke Brain’s trance, and upon the sight of a hovering black camera with the Selenian logo on its side, he quickly pulled away.

“Correspondence from Snowball,” Brain said. His ears flattened briefly before returning to their normal position. Maybe he regretted breaking their closeness too. “I’m taking this.”

He wiped his fingers on a wet cloth before unlatching the window. The camera darted in once the window was open, its tripod claws dropping an unmarked envelope into Brain’s hands before flying off into the brilliant evening sky.

Well, it could’ve had pizza if it stayed just a little longer.

Pinky moved behind Brain as he tore open the envelope and unfolded the note inside, which was written in a neat script.

Pickup at seven pm tomorrow. Don’t be late.

-Snowball

“Well, it’s better than nothing,” Brain sighed. “I’ll make sure we have everything required for tomorrow night, Pinky.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He only disappeared into a hidden drawer where all their belongings were stored.

The masquerade ball was important. He shouldn’t keep Brain from making sure they saved the invitation so they could get in.

And it would be nice to wear that beautiful dress Sharon picked out.

But there was an ache in his chest. One that gnawed at his heart, and he didn’t want that icky feeling gnawing at his heart. Pinky sat in front of the TV and focused on Pharfignewton’s happiness instead. He pushed away the pizza, the box tasting like cardboard on his tongue.

If she was happy, he was happy. And wasn’t that all he needed?

End AN: So as a little treat I snuck some fictional horse names in here. I mean, obviously you know Pharfignewton as Pinky’s equine girlfriend. Daddy’s Little Angel is the name of the horse Brain rode in the OG Animaniacs episode Jockey for Position.

Grand Chawhee’s name is a reference to All Dogs Go to Heaven. Tricky Mickey comes from the 1978 movie Casey’s Shadow, which I caught my family watching a few weeks ago and I just decided to borrow a name from the movie.

Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony, Maximus from Tangled, Black Beauty from the book of the same name, Spirit from the Dreamworks movie, and Achilles’ Heel is a reference to Phoebus’ horse in Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Mr. Legs’ name provided by Boxy. Thank you, Boxy. Snuck in Pinky actually eating a pizza box for ya lol.

Final placements for the Derby are:

1. Pharfignewton 2. Daddy’s Little Angel 3. Maximus 4. Grand Chawhee 5. Black Beauty 6. Rainbow Dash 7. Arabian Night 8. Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse 9. Mr. Legs 10. Maverick 11. Horsin’ Around 12. Tricky Mickey 13. Mayoneighase 14. Achilles’ Heel (never finished) 15. Spirit (never finished)

Next chapter will finally have the Masquerade Ball and boy do I have plans. It’ll definitely be longer than this one. But this chapter at least wraps up the Derby subplot.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb nova

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lyssismagical · 4 years ago

Text

you were never mine

I’m a bad student somebody stop me

AKA I wrote this on my phone during a zoom call for class, so it’s not the best and it’s kinda messy but here we are anyway

TW: abusive parent, violence, blood

another piece of a shameless au i’ll write one day

There’s an ear-splitting noise that sounds a lot like glass shattering, and Abbie flinches, tucking herself closer against the wall, one arm wrapped around a sibling, more by her feet.

Their mom showing up, out of the blue, was protocol for what started out as a decent weekend. Harley ushered them all off, passing Bentley off to Abbie, as soon as he’d smelled the alcohol and weed on her.

From Harley’s bedroom, they could hear everything that was happening downstairs, words mostly muffled but emotions just as clear as day.

Bentley’s on her lap, Jonah and Dayton on either side of her, Aspen sitting on the other end of the bed, and Sebastian is on Aspen’s other side.

Harley’s room smells like him. Like gunpowder, leather, cheap soap, and strawberry milkshakes from the diner. It makes them all feel safe, knowing Harley’s out there protecting them, keeping them safe, always.

Downstairs, muffled and distant, Harley’s shouting, “They’re not your kids, Macy. They were never your kids!”

And Macy sounds like she’s crying, and Abbie can picture exactly what she looks like in that moment. Desperate and scared and angry, hair wild and eyes tired, reaching out to try to comfort Harley like he was ever her son.

She’s always been pretty, in that hardened Tennessee way. Auburn hair, long but always tied back, skin clear and tan, eyes a dark honey-brown, hands calloused and angles sharp.

Most of the Keeners have a lot of those same features. Especially the oldest, the ones that were Dad’s and Mom’s, not just one or the other. The younger they get, the farther apart they look.

Bentley, the youngest, is Dad’s, not Mom’s, and she barely looks like family. She’s lighter and softer than any of the other Keeners, blue-eyed and a blonde tuft of hair, porcelain skin with softer edges.

“Why is he yelling at her?” Dayton asks. He’s so young, only eight-years-old and he’s facing all this pain and suffering at the hands of the people who were meant to love him unconditionally. He barely knows Mom, doesn’t know who his dad is. He doesn’t understand why things happened the way they did, doesn’t get why Harley’s so pissed at Mom, doesn’t understand why he can’t have clothes that aren’t hand-me-downs.

And Abbie just shushes him because she can’t begin to explain why.

“They’re my babies! You can’t keep them from me! I’m their mom!” Macy’s shouting downstairs. There’s more glass shattering and Abbie pulls Bentley closer when she hears the telltale sound of skin on skin.

“What if I did let you see them?” Harley demands, voice trembling and an octave higher. “Would you hit Aspen too? Would you attack Dayton? Would you scream at Abbie? Would you make their lives hell?”

She can’t make out what Macy says in response to that, but she can guess it’s nothing but lies and grasping for pity.

“I wanna see her,” Jonah says, blinking up at Abbie. “Why can’t I see her?”

“Macy isn’t a good person.” She’s pissed, shaking with the fiery anger that’s flooding through her, and she hates that this it what she’s forced to do. Hates that Harley has to take the brunt of everything.

There’s a future for them, she thinks, as she looks around at her siblings. There’s a future there.

Harley’s set it all up for them, made sure they’ll be ready to get out of Rose Hill one day. He’s going to get them all through school, going to send them off to live their lives, far and wide, doing anything they wish to do.

Abbie’s going to go to New York. She’s going to get a full ride to Harvard, she’s going to be lawyer, she’s going to be successful and live on the coast. She’s going to be the first Keener to graduate high school, the first to go to college, the first to have a real job, the first to make it out of Rose Hill with a future, the first to be be above the poverty line, the first to make it to nineteen without an unplanned pregnancy.

And the rest of them will follow. Aspen, Sebastian, Dayton, Jonah, Bentley, and whichever children will be dumped on them from Mom or Dad or a stranger claiming to have Dad’s child.

All of them but Harley.

Harley will be tied to them until the day the youngest Keener gets out of Rose Hill. Even if they’re lucky enough to be done with Bentley, Harley will be stuck here until he’s thirty-five, never have graduated high school.

“I’ve given up everything for them!” Harley cries, loud enough for them to hear, clear and heartbreaking all the same. “You’ve done nothing but take and take and take, and I’ve had to fill in every gap. I’ve been their mom, their dad, their brother, their sole caretaker, their breadwinner, their chaperone, their everything. And you’ve been nothing. You’ve done nothing for them. The best thing you ever did to those kids was leave them.”

And it hurts like Abbie’s been shot, clinging to her brothers, bleeding out on Harley’s bedspread, dying unable to make a sound.

“I want a second chance. Just let me have the littlest one, Bentley, let me take her and have a second chance at being a mother!”

“You can’t just show up and take your fucking pick!” Harley shouts, a sob caught in his throat. “You weren’t here, Macy! You weren’t here to change their diapers or help with math homework or go to their sports games. I was here! This is about what I did!”

Macy goes to say something, but it goes unheard under Harley’s tearfully loud voice.

“I was here! I was always here when you weren’t! And you know what? I did a fucking good job,” Harley says, shouting and crying and desperate. “Abbie’s captain of the volleyball team and junior class president! Aspen’s got a perfect GPA! Sebastian’s captain of the debate team, he volunteers at the animal shelter on the weekends! Dayton made a solar system for science and got an A plus! Jonah’s running now, he’s talking in full sentences, he’s fully potty trained, and he’s starting kindergarten next fall. Bentley, she’s an angel. Her first word was Harley. I was here! Where the fuck were you?”

“I’m here now, Harley,” Macy says, almost too quiet for the kids to hear upstairs. “I deserve to see my children.”

“They don’t even know who you are!” Harley shouts and there’s more glass breaking.

Macy’s voice drops lower. “I’m their mother.”

“You were my mother too!”

“Please, Harley,” Macy begs. “I just want to see my children.”

But Harley’s never given up that easily, he’s never let anything come between him and his family. “No. Just get out. I’m not letting you see them. I’m not going to let you brainwash them”

It goes quiet after that, save for a few muffled noises every now and again.

“Is he okay? Do you think she- Do you think she killed him?”

Abbie hits Sebastian on the arm. “Don’t say something like that, you’ll scare the little ones.”

“I’m serious. Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”

“When has Harley not been okay, Bas?”

It’s not the truth, Harley’s been far from okay for a very long time. And normally, encounters with Macy ends pretty badly for him.

But there’s nothing they can do. Harley’s strictest rule is that when he tells them to hide, they can’t come out until Harley comes to get them. If Abbie leaves, that leaves Aspen, fourteen years old, to protect them.

Abbie’s job is to stay here, protect the littlest one if, for some reason, Macy comes after them.

It only takes about an hour for Harley to get up to them, shouldering the door open.

He’s bruised and bloody and limping, but he’s somehow got a wide smile on his face. “Macy has officially left the building.”

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Abbie’s up and over in a second, passing Bentley off to Bas, and grabbing his chin to get a better look at him. It looks like he broke his nose, blood smeared on his upper lip, right eye swollen nearly shut, one arm cradled against his ribs, fingers splayed on his chest. His lip is split open, jaw bruised, glass still clinging to his shirt.

“It’s fine. She’s gone, she’s not coming back for a while. We’re safe and sound. How do we feel about mac and cheese for dinner?”

There’s not much they can say otherwise, watching Harley grin, teeth stained with blood, and nodding to the door.

It’s not like Harley would listen to any of them anyway. He loves them too much to let them talk him out of keeping them safe.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @fancyxparker @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames {Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed}

buy me a coffee

#lyss writes #shameless au #i'll write a real shameless au one of these days #for now. oneshots #harley keener #abbie keener #jonah keener #sebastian keener #dayton keener #aspen keener #bentley keener #parkner

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Makayla Part Two

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 2529

Part One

Summary: With your secret revealed, Sam has no choice but to help you. Dean, still holding a grudge, reluctantly joins. Makayla gets to know her family.

Notes: I hope you guys are liking this series as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for all of your support already, it really means the world to me. Continue to let me know what you think and enjoy more of Winchester October.

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

Five Years Ago

Sam held you a little closer tonight. Seeing Jessica… it just brought back so many bad memories and took his mind to a darker place. It was the place that gave him nightmares of losing you or his brother. So he held you a little closer. You didn’t mind. It helped you fight your own night demons.

Of course, you couldn’t sleep anyway. You laid there, gently running your fingers through Sam’s hair and staring up at the ceiling. There was this dread gnawing at your insides. You weren’t her. You would never be her. It wasn’t that she was beautiful. She meant more than that. She was the life Sam always wanted but never got. The life he still dreamt about. The one he hoped for someday. You couldn’t give him that life. You were too far gone.

“You okay, kid?” Dean was looking over at you from his bed, unable to sleep himself. He had been doing more research on the leviathans. You turned your head, eyes glistening in the dark.

“That was one sick bastard.” You whispered angrily. Dean sighed.

“Sometimes that's how they get us. They can make us see things. Stuff we want to forget.”

“But he doesn’t want to forget her.” You looked back up at the ceiling. “Not really. I think her memory gives him hope.”

“Hope for what?”

“For the life he could have had with her.” You didn’t say anymore, but you didn’t have to. Dean understood you pretty well. You two were a lot alike. That’s why you scared him.

Present Day

“Sam?” Makayla gasped, looking at you with wide eyes. Dean’s eyes kept darting between you and Sam and the little girl. Makayla was beaming. “My dad’s name is Sam!” You inhaled sharply.

“Kayla, why don’t you go back with Miss Naomi and show her those drawings you made me?”

“But I want to stay here and meet Sam.” She pouted her lip and gave you those big puppy eyes that her dad was always so good at. You kissed her forehead.

“You can meet him later, but mom needs to talk to them first, okay?”

“Okay.” She frowned and scampered off to find Naomi. Without her, the three of you fell silent, everything slowly sinking in.

“How old is she?” Sam asked quietly. You barely heard him.

“What?”

“How old is she?” This time he looked at you and his eyes with a mix of sadness and anger and confusion, but most of all, he looked devastated. You had to look away.

“She’s four. She’ll turn five in March.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N…” Dean sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam was trying to keep himself together, but this was too much. First, you come back after five years of leaving him in the dust and then you tell him he has a daughter?

“I wanted to, Sam. I swear, I was going to.” You cried. “But I never knew if you were alive or dead or in hell! I didn’t know what to do Sam.”

“You find me and tell me I have a child!” He yelled, towering over you. “You had four years, Y/N. There’s no excuse for that.” You wanted to reach to him, but your arms just fell limply to your sides.

“I’m sorry.” There was nothing else you could say.

“Sorry?” Dean scoffed. “Sweetheart we are so far past sorry, we’re in a different time zone.” Dean was almost as rattled as Sam. This whole time, you had been hiding a kid. After the way you left… Sam deserved better than this.

“What do you want me to say, Dean?” You exclaimed. “I have been doing the best I can to raise a little girl, and in our world, that isn’t easy.” Sam stiffened.

“You’re still hunting?”

“Don’t start with that, Sam.” You didn’t like his accusing tone. “I tried settling down, okay? For the first year, we lived nice and quiet in New Mexico. Then those vampires came for me and I had to run. So I started hunting again.” It was all you knew. “On big cases I bring her here to stay with Naomi.”

“I can’t believe you.” Sam laughed bitterly, turning away. Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you’ve got this all figured out, why come to us now? Why tell us now?”

“The vampires and I have a history. I thought if I could just keep ahead of them, they would give up.” You explained, Sam refusing to look at you. “But they got too close this time. Kayla almost got hurt and I realized that I had to take the bastards out once and for all.” The brothers didn’t say anything. Dean had his angry stare locked on you while Sam watched the sky. “I can’t do it alone, Sam. I have to do this. For both of them.” He finally turned back to you.

“They’re the vampires that killed Makayla… aren’t they?”

You named your daughter after your best friend. You grew up with Makayla, went to high school together, even roomed together in college. You were practically sisters. One night you came back to your apartment and there they were. Three vampires leaning over her body with her blood dripping from their mouths. It was why you started hunting in the first place.

You nodded and Sam took a deep breath. He didn’t have a choice now. He had more to lose.

“Can I…” He started, his voice trailing off as he glanced at the house. “Can I talk to her?” You mustered a small smile.

“She’d love that.” You watched as he nervously fixed his jacket and walked inside.

“Of all of the things you’ve done, this is by far the most messed up.” Dean growled, staring you down. You kept your eyes on Sam, another tear falling.

“I know.”

Sam slowly opened the door and found the little girl sitting on the floor, the TV going as she drew pictures in a little notebook. Sam sat down across from her, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down. He looked at some of the pictures she had finished. They were mostly stick figures, of course, but all of them were of her and her mother except the one she was working on now. Beside her were two taller figures with big smiles drawn with purple crayon.

“Hi Makayla.” He greeted softly. It was like he didn’t know how to interact with a child anymore. How could a person whose height barely reached his knee make him so nervous? She looked up from her drawing, her eyes bright and curious.

“Hi Sam. Are you my dad?” She said it so frankly that it took him off guard. You appeared in the doorway.

“Makayla.” You scolded. Sam held up a hand to stop you.

“No, it’s fine.” He took a deep breath and gave Makayla a smile. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m your…” He looked over at you and you just gave him a reassuring nod. “I’m your dad.” If he hadn’t been paying attention, this four year old would have tackled him to the floor.

Makayla threw her arms around his neck and Sam had to hold her up so she wouldn’t fall. His arms wrapped around her gently, like he was afraid he’d crush her. The two just sat there for longer than you thought Makayla was capable. She was always running and jumping and fidgeting. But in her dad’s arms, she didn’t squirm. Your heart swelled at the sight. Sam had his eyes closed to try and keep from crying, but a tear still slipped down his cheek.

“You must be Sam.” Naomi appeared in the doorway, cleaning off a machete. For a moment, you almost forgot who you all were.

“He’s my dad!” Makayla squealed happily. Sam stood, using one arm to keep her up and holding out his other hand to shake Naomi’s.

“Sam Winchester.” She shook his hand with a smirk.

“Oh honey, I know all about you.” Sam’s eyes darted over to you and you could have sworn that he gave you a smug smile.

“We should probably be going.” You thanked Naomi and grabbed Makayla’s things. She clung to Sam all the way out to the car. You saw something flash in Dean’s eyes, but you weren’t sure what. You threw Kayla’s things in the back. “Wait, I almost forgot.” You ran back to Naomi’s car and grabbed the car seat. Dean cast you an annoyed look.

“Dean, she’s four.” Sam exclaimed.

“Okay, okay.” The older Winchester huffed. You could tell he was just being ornery for the sake of it. Sam pried Makayla off of him and buckled her in. You slid in the seat next to her.

“Alright, I’ve already scouted a motel in Lebanon that isn’t far from you guys.” You started. Sam turned around.

“What are you talking about? You’re staying with us.” The look on his face didn’t exactly make you want to argue.

“You don’t have to do that-”

“As much as I dislike you, I’ve got to agree with Sam.” Dean glanced at you in the mirror. “The safest place for that little girl is the bunker.” You knew they were right. You weren’t super excited to explain the situation to their not-dead mother, but as long as Kayla was safe, it didn’t matter.

“Uncle Dean?” Makayla chimed. Dean’s eyes widened, the title giving him a weird feeling.

“Uhh, yeah?”

“Can you play Flatwheat Macaroni?” Both Winchesters looked extremely confused. You sighed.

“She means Fleetwood Mac.” You could see Dean slightly smile.

“I like her.”

After a very eventful day, Makayla was asleep by the time you got to the bunker. Sam carried her inside and you grabbed your bags. Inside, you could hear Mary talking to someone. You knew that monotone voice anywhere.

“Cas?” You dropped the bags on the floor and rushed into the library. There stood your favorite trench-coat wearing angel. Mary crossed her arms, still giving you a suspicious glare. You ran to Cas and crashed into him with a hug.

“Dean said I’m not supposed to like you anymore.” He hesitated to hug you back, but slowly, his arms wrapped around you. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, announcing that he was going to take a shower.

“I missed you Castiel.” You beamed. Sam tapped you on the shoulder.

“I’m going to take her to your room.” He whispered. Mary’s expression softened as she looked at the little girl in her son’s arms.

“Sam, who is this?”

“I, um, I’ll explain when I come back.” He said, grabbing your bags with his free hand and finding your room. Cas looked curiously at you and Mary sat down, pointing to the chair across from her.

“Sit.” She ordered. You obeyed. Honestly, she was more terrifying than the vamps. Mary placed her hands on the table. “Look, I don’t know who you are or what you are doing here, but I know that something happened between you and my boys.”

“Mary, uh, Mrs. Winchester- ma’am,” You stuttered. “I can explain-”

“I just need to know one thing.” Again, her expression changed to a gentler curiosity. “Do I have a granddaughter?” Cas’ eyes went wide and he stared down at you.

“Yes.” Sam answered, coming back into the room. “Makayla is my daughter.”

“How long have you known?” Mary asked. How much had she missed?

“About three hours.”

“Sam and I were together about five years ago. I…” You closed your eyes, not sure if you could face her for this part, “I left and I found out I was pregnant. I’ve spent the last four years trying to raise her alone.”

“What do you mean you left?” Mama Bear was starting to resurface and Sam put a hand on her shoulder to settle her down.

“It’s okay, mom.” But you could tell he was lying. “It was a long time ago.”

“I need a minute to just… absorb all of this.” Mary sighed and retreated to her room. Cas stood awkwardly beside you, the silence growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. Sam looked at the angel and then pointedly looked at the door. It took a second for Cas to catch on.

“Oh… I should go and do some… angel things.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his complete inability to be subtle. Damn, you’d missed him. Your amusement instantly dissolved when you looked back at Sam. He didn’t look angry, which was somehow so much worse.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this.” You would give anything to keep from hurting him.

“It never had to be like this, Y/N.” He sighed, sitting across the table from you. “I went five years never knowing why you left. And now you turn up and reveal that I have a daughter? Just… tell me why.” You were actually taken aback. Dean never told him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sam.”

“Like hell it doesn’t!” He exclaimed. “Y/N, you just vanished. No note. No phone call. Nothing. You were just gone.”

“I left because I loved you.” You watched his face just contort with more pain and confusion. He pushed away from the table.

“You know what? I can’t do this right now.” He ran a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. “I’m going to check in on Kayla and then I’m going to bed.” He was absolutely exhausted, but he knew he would just lay in bed and stare at the wall for a few hours before trying to lose himself in some lore. He left without another word.

Five Years Ago

Sam was in a better mood today. A much better mood. He laced his fingers with his while his other hand rested against your bare thigh. Dean had spent the morning driving around town. He figured the two of you could use some alone time. You were grateful. You wanted Sam to hold you, to kiss you and touch you just one last time.

You couldn’t stay. You knew eventually, he would see it too. He would figure out that you weren’t what he wanted and you would just end up alone and heartbroken. At least now, it was on your terms.

“Dean will probably be back soon.” Sam sighed, kissing your cheek. “Him and I are checking up on some intel on a possible case. You want to come?” You stretched, lounging comfortably in his warm embrace.

“I think I’m going to take the day off.” You would spend it packing, not that you had much to take. You kissed him fervently, wanting to savor the feeling for as long as you could. Sam climbed out of bed and gathered up his clothes. Once he was dressed, he started towards the door. “Hey Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” You smiled, trying to hide the sadness in your eyes. Sam just beamed.

“I love you too. I’ll see you soon.” With a giant grin on his face, he left. You were gone before he got back.

Continue to Part Three

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto;

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87

Sam Winchester: @theamuz

Makayla Series: @rhiannon-the-troublemaker; @hoboal87

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester daughter #dean winchester #mary winchester #castiel #winchester family #supernatural imagine

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soundsof71 · 4 years ago

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Hey! Album: 'Fleetwood Mac' (1975) - Fleetwood Mac

Hey! Great to hear from you! You (and your previous blog) were my original inspiration for trying to raise my tumblr game to something intentionally curated, and more than that, personally creative. Sorry to have let you down. LOL

What a pleasure to talk about this one, though, an album I think is -- strangely enough -- one of the most underrated albums in the classic rock pantheon!

What’s that you say? An album with “Rhiannon” and “Landslide” underrated?!?! Well it’s true, seriously underrated, at least partly because those two stellar, nay, legendary songs are the first ones that most people think of. There's so much more! It's definitely my favorite Fleetwood Mac album!

My perspective is a little different than the standard rap that Fleetwood Mac didn't properly begin until those two California kids joined the band in 1975, because to me, they started taking off when their first American joined the band, Bob Welch in 1971 for Future Games, which I wrote about at some length here.

(For the record, Future Games is my second favorite Fleetwood Mac album. Anyone who hasn't checked it out really needs to.)

I’ll leave it at that for now, except to observe that to most of my music nerd friends at the time, I was a latecomer to Fleetwood Mac the band, having completely missed their earlier, bluesier lineups. Indeed, the 1971 lineup was their 8th! And they'd come to #9 in 1972, before landing on lineup #10 in 1975.

They had a bunch of hits on the five albums in this 71-74 range (”Hypnotized” is one that still slays me) that I think hold up as among their best ever. While the album before Fleetwood Mac, Heroes Are Hard to Find didn’t have a hit single, it rose to #34 on the US charts, and got plenty of attention.

My point is that Fleetwood Mac didn’t spring into existence out of nowhere in 1975. Nor was 1975 necessarily ground zero for the millions of people who bought the album Fleetwood Mac. It came out in the summer of ‘75, but took 15 months to hit #1 in the US! (It peaked at #11 in the UK.) This was a far bigger album in 1976 when all the singles came out, and the band was touring like crazy to support it.

They basically dragged the album to the top of the charts kicking and screaming by the end of THAT year with relentless touring, setting the stage for their true commercial breakthrough with Rumours in 1977, but artistically? I prefer everything about 1975′s Fleetwood Mac.

btw, the music nerds know that Fleetwood Mac was recorded at Sound City Studios, which makes all the difference in the telling of the tale. In 1974, the band had located to Los Angeles, and following the departure of Bob Welch in December, Mick Fleetwood went looking for both a recording studio and a guitarist.

While getting to know producer Keith Olsen at Sound City (a studio legendary for its drum sound, among other things), Keith played Mick some tracks from an album he’d recorded here a couple of years earlier with a local guitarist and his girlfriend singer, both of whom were also songwriters.

Mick said, I’ll book the studio to record my next album, I’ll book you to produce, and I’ll hire the guitarist....who famously informed Mick that he and his girlfriend were a package deal. All of this happened because of Sound City Studios.

(Here's Mick recording this very album in this very studio.)

Your friend and mine Dave Grohl directed a FANTASTIC documentary about Sound City Studios, a kind of a dump to be honest, but where tons of phenomenal records were made, from After The Gold Rush to Caribou, Damn The Torpedoes, Nevermind, Rage Against The Machine, and most recently, Phoebe Bridgers’ Punisher. Lots and lots of stories about the making of Fleetwood Mac in this movie, and much more.

Here’s the trailer. The whole movie is available on YT, too! And Amazon Prime, and a bunch of other places. HIGHLY recommended!

youtube

So here we go taking directly about Fleetwood Mac.....

the first song from the album i heard: "Over My Head". This was the first single released in the US, remarkably, four months after the album was released! I dunno, did the label not want to sell any albums? Or did they just not get how catchy these tunes were? I have no idea.

And ironically, the band didn't like the choice of "Over My Head" at all, ranking it dead-last in their own considerations of likely singles! I think that this is evidence that they were using heavy drugs much earlier than we thought. LOL

"Over My Head" peaked at #20 in the US, their highest to date by far, although, in some defense of the band's reservations, didn't chart at all in the UK. Saying that it rose to "only" 20 in the charts doesn't begin to describe how heavily it was played, though. A LOT.

do i own the album: Did then, Spotify now. The answer for most of the albums in this round of Asks. :-)

my favorite song: "Over My Head". Look, I admit that this is insane when Fleetwood Mac also includes "Landslide" and "Rhiannon." "Landslide" in particular is maybe one of the greatest songs anyone has ever written, and every single person reading this knows somebody named Rhiannon because of that song. (I've met two.) And hey, "Say You Love Me" was a MUCH bigger hit at the time too... but I'm tellin' ya, "Over My Head" fucks.

It's the single version that fucks hardest, though, no doubt about it. I was disappointed when I finally bought the album that the version there fades in (NO! THIS IS WRONG) and has a wide mix that diffuses the impact. The radio version is so tight that it's practically mono, and it punches you right upside the head.

One of my favorite things about listening to "Over My Head" in the past couple of weeks for this Ask is that it's Old School Fleetwood Mac. Chris on piano, Mick on drums, and John McVie with what might be the best bassline that anyone stroked out in 1975. My god, it's a fucking monster, and it just gets hotter as the song progresses. By the end, it's on fire, and you hear it so much better in this tight single mix.

The new guy adds a nice little solo on top of a nice rhythm lick, and he and Stevie add background vocals, but they're not front and center. "Over My Head" is really Christine McVie's showcase, although Fleetwood and Mac really shine too. This would have been a monster hit without the new kids, as indeed it pretty much was. You could say the same thing about "Say You Love Me", which is also all about Christine's songcraft, and a voice like no other, then or now.

Here's my edit of a lovely Mick Putland photo of Christine McVie from a couple of years earlier.

I guarantee that it's been way too long since you heard the in-your-face single version of "Over My Head". On Spotify, you can find it on the couple of Deluxe Editions of Fleetwood Mac (here's one), and it's also on the anthology, The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac, which I've embedded here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gw-lIt1ILzk

youtube

least favorite song: "I'm So Afraid." I'm so afraid not. LOL

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: Hmm, I might put "Sugar Daddy" in that category, but honestly, the main thing I don't like about this song is the title. LOL But it's the 4th best Christine McVie song on an album where the best three of hers were all released as singles, so I guess it all works out.

a song I used to like, but now don’t: Anything by the new guy. I'm not going to go into detail here because what I love about this album, I still love. At the time, I dug two of his songs here (you can guess which two, surely), but I started to really despise this guy a few years later. Now, I can't listen to anything where he's prominent at all, on any Fleetwood Mac records.

Fortunately there are more than enough Christine and Stevie songs, and Mick and John's playing, plus all those earlier albums like Future Games, to keep Fleetwood Mac in the rock good pantheon. I'd have fired the new guy 30 years earlier than he was.

favorite lyric:

Mirror in the sky

What is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm getting older too

Like I said, the two Stevie Nicks tracks on Fleetwood Mac deserve every bit of the love they've gotten over the years. You can also see with just a quick glance around my blog that she's one of my most-posted artists. Please don't take me repping Christine as any disrespect for Stevie!

Do I like "Landslide" a little more than I otherwise might because it's specifically about outgrowing the aforementioned new guy? Maybe. Or do I like it a little less than I otherwise might because I can't hear it without thinking of him? Maybe that too.

overall rating out of 10: Then: 9.4. Now: 9. The new guy went 2-for-4 for my money at the time, and the two that he whiffed on are genuinely terrible...but as bad as those two clunkers were, the rest of the album seemed perfect to me. Certainly among my most-played mainstream rock records into the early 80s. I was perfectly fine skipping one song on each side.

Even though nowadays I can't stand any of the songs he sings lead on, you take those off, and you STILL have "Landslide", "Rhiannon", "Say You Love Me", "Over My Head", and "Warm Ways". No album with ALL THOSE on them gets less than an 8.5, right?

I'm adding a few tenths each for how tightly Fleetwood and Mac are locked into each other and these songs on rythm (easily the most underrated duo of the era, sez me), and Keith Olsen's immaculate production. The score of 9 is therefore objectively correct and mathematically unassailable. LOL

I'm going to end where I began, by talking about Christine McVie. Instead of listening to this first and foremost as an album with a couple of giant Stevie Nicks songs, listen again to Fleetwood Mac as Christine McVie really lighting things up. She deserves so much more credit for the band's success than she gets, and seriously, "Over My Head" fucks.

Now looky here, @aluacrescente . I know that YOU have strong feelings about this record, so spill! And the rest of you, too! I don't intend to have the last word on the albums in any of these Asks! Just the first one. :-) So lemme know what YOU think!

PS. Apologies for any formatting weirdness! I started this on desktop, where I do all my writing, saved the first few paragraphs to come back to later, only to be told by tumblr that I'd stated this on the app (DID NOT) and could only edit there. Grrr. Not cool, @staff. I've spent another day just tweaking to make it somewhat readable and wondering how these people can be so bad at their jobs. LOL

My crackpot opinions and wobbly writing are my own of course, and I'm aware that they have a larger negative impact on readability than tumblr's incompetence by far. LOL

#aluacrescente #ask #Fleetwood Mac #christine mcvie #women in rock #stevie nicks #Landslide #over my head #john mcvie #dave grohl #sound city #youtube #essay #me #recording studio

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