#Tw: cancer

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Comes up to the front of the room with pitch notecards in hand, okay, I have an idea that has two very controversial things in it. And idk if people want this, but I keep thinking about it, so here goes nothing.

So, I was thinking, post-breakup, Tommy and Buck bubble each other not talking. Tommy has spiraled inwardly. Buck is using up all the flour in Los Angeles.

It's a problem.

On a call one of them gets on shift, there is a big pileup. A huge pileup.

And in the pileup?

Connor, Kameron, and their son.

The one Buck helped them have with his donor sperm. All of them have significant injuries. Maybe either Connor or Kameron are already dead. They're rushed to the hospital. The only one who survives - the kid.

Buck, who is the biological father of the kid and never technically waved his rights, decides he should take the kid in. He doesn't know if there's anyone there for the kid other than him. There hadn't seemed to be when he was helping Connor and Kameron out. He kind of impulsively rushes into it.

However, there seems to be a wrinkle. Connor and Kameron had a will. Their will states that if they were to die, it designates the child's guardian to be Kameron's older brother. And who would that be?

Tommy Kinard.

And what at first looks like it could possibly become a messy custody battle ends up settling in a co-parenting situation where the kid spends time with both of them.

And as they keep co-parenting, well, maybe something happens to Buck's loft. A pipe bursts, something.

So, Buck decides to stay at Tommy's place as the pipe gets fixed. And maybe, well, Buck never leaves. It's kind of nice to be all under the same roof, after all.

And maybe they start to actually talk about why they broke up. Why Tommy was scared. Why Buck rushed into the idea of potential marriage down the line and moving in without saying I love you first. Talk about all the baking and talk about the bubbling.

They're reluctant at first to try to make up; try to date. Because what if it doesn't work out again? And where would that leave the kid?

While they figure themselves out, another devastating thing hits them. The kid? He is predisposed to cancer, and he gets juvenile leukemia.

And you're probably thinking it's going to be Buck. Buck's going to be the donor again. And he's also going to have to go through what his parents had all those years ago.

But.

He's not a match.

Buck is not a match.

But Tommy is.

And it's this whole vortex of unpacking childhood trauma while coming together for this kid that's just really become part of their lives. And it works out because I can't bring myself to not let it work out, but it's a lot.

And by the end of it, after the kid is in remission, after everything, they admit it. They admit they want this. They want to be together. They want to be a couple. They want to be a family with this kid.

And it's beautiful.

[xangelaherrera]

Mientras cura las heridas ajenas mantuvo la concentración en ello, intentaba no verle el rostro porque si veía alguna señal de sufrimiento se iba a poner nerviosa y no iba a realizar la tarea de forma exitosa y realmente quería ayudarlo, de alguna forma era su manera de agradecerle por haberla ayudado a rescatar a Coco antes de llegar al refugio. Ante la interrogante no alza la mirada solamente responde "En la farmacia cuando estaba robando los insumos" Admite, su nariz se arruga un poco culminando la labor y finalmente llevando su mirada a Gael "Me dieron tutoriales" Admite "Y hasta me ayudaron con la mía, no son malas personas" Hasta ahora todos habían sido bastante empáticos y la morena no tenía nada malo que decir "Aún no hay que cortarte la pata" Bromea "Felicidades" Y le extiende una pastilla de las que había recolectado junto con un pequeño pote de agua mineral "Ten, es cefradoxilo, te va ayudar a que no se infecte".

El camino al supermercado se hacía pesado por el dolor qué le generaba la pierna cada vez que pisaba, claro, gracias a los analgésicos lo estaba tolerando muchísimo mejor que un tiempo atrás, sin embargo intentaba mantener su mente en cualquier otra cosa, esperando que el dolor mágicamente desapareciera. Cuando escucha la interrogante del joven deja salir un pequeño suspiro "Bueno, Coco fue adaptado hace cinco años, era el perro de mi mamá" Comienza a contar, viendo al canino evitando el contacto visual en ese momento "Pero está conmigo desde hace dos años, me lo llevé cuando mi papá enfermó de cáncer" Explica "Ella no lo podía seguir cuidando... Fue gracioso en un principio, el departamento donde vivía no me dejaban tener perros" Se encoge de hombros con suavidad, el tono que empleaba era calmado sin embargo permitía que se viera el dolor en cada palabra "Así que lo tenía escondido y era una agonía" Suspira "Y esa es la historia de Coco" Le mira por un segundo, intentando formar una pequeña sonrisa.

"Debe haber y no creo que hayan acabado con todos los cubiertos aun" Dice no muy segura, en ese momento creía que cualquier cosa era posible incluso que hubiesen acabado con todo y ya estaban llegando demasiado tarde. Al llegar al supermercado ve para todos lados intentando ver si estaban solos o había alguien más "Pareciera que no hay nadie" Suelta en prácticamente un susurro.

Aquel comentario la toma un poco desprevenida pero logra sacarla de sus pensamientos melancólicos y sacarle una risa baja "Sí, exactamente" Luego entrecierra un poco los ojos "Yo jamás podría ser invisible ¿Privar al mundo de esto?" Bromea señalando su rostro con falso egocentrismo "Eso sería muy cruel de mi parte" Niega un par de veces "Otro buen poder sería la telepatía, ser como Charles Xavier" Se encoge de hombros ligeramente. Le escucha y de sus labios sale un suspiro "Eso es cierto, pero pensar demasiados imposibles hace daño" Hace una pequeña pausa "O repensar el mismo imposible muchas veces también" Y ella ya se había hecho suficiente daño con aquello, al menos eso era lo que pensaba. "Vale" Acepta la morena con un leve asentimiento "Pero si ves que estoy cerca de morirme por culpa de alguna de esas cosas que nos están acechando me tienes que decir el final, no me puedo ir de este plano astral con la duda" Condiciona aquello clavando la mirada en el de ojos claros con una pequeña sonrisa "Me encanta West Side History" Hace una pequeña pausa "También me encanta Chicago" Agrega. Ladea la cabeza escuchando lo siguiente, la pequeña sonrisa en su rostro se vuelve una línea tomando ahora una expresión más seria ante las palabras ajenas, podía entenderlo de cierto modo aunque no sabía exactamente cuales fueron las razones que lo hicieron alejarse de todo el mundo, mantiene la mirada fija en él y dice "Pues a veces lo mejor que podemos hacer por nosotros es alejarnos" Su tono de voz empleado en suave y tranquilo "Y eso está bien si era lo que necesitabas" Podía sonar egoísta diciendo aquello pero pensaba que era importante priorizarse a si mismo y si él deseaba irse y no volver probablemente es porque consideraba que era lo mejor, en esta oportunidad sobre el frío prefiere no decir nada, solo asiente levemente. "Lo es, ¿Tienes algún otro tatuaje?" Le pregunta curiosa. Y ante lo siguiente responde "Merlot definitivamente, ¿A ti te gusta el vino?" Cuestiona. "En mi casa era obligatorio verlos" Se ríe "No tenía escapatoria y le terminé tomando cariño, me gustan los Miami Marlins, tampoco son muy buenos" Dice lo último con algo de gracia "Ah, tal vez toda esta situación me volvió mezquina, no estaría tan seguro siendo tu" Bromea "Ven, tengo las cosas allá y no me puedo agachar" Le dice comenzando a dar un par de pasos y luego dirigirse al canino "Vente, mi amor" Lo llama hablando chiquito, como que si de un bebé se tratase y el chihuahua inmediatamente se pone en pie, la cola elevada y le dedica un par de ladridos a Gael "Eso es que camines rápido, aun me tienes que acompañar al supermercado" Le recuerda con diversión.

[calinaannehart]

time is shortening (down to the bone)

Chapter 2

“Okay, Bobby should be here any minute, he’s going to take you to chemo, but then he’s got that meeting with the chief so Hen is going to pick you up and bring you home. Then she and Karen have got a playdate with Mara’s brother so Chim’s going to come over after he’s dropped Jee off at the Lee’s. I think he’s got this plan for, like, a movie marathon or something, so save your energy for that, and then Eddie will take over from him and do your physio with you. Now, I’ve told him that you’re leg has been pretty bad the past few days so don’t try and just suffer through it, you hear me? And then Eddie will stay with you until I get off my shift, I should be back about eight, but that will all depend on how the traffic is at—what?”

Tommy’s looking up at him from his spot on the couch, heated blanket draped over his legs, and his head is cocked to one side matching the fond, yet slightly exasperated, smile that he’s directing at Buck.

“You know you wrote this all on the calendar already, right?” Tommy says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “I haven’t lost my memory yet.” His eyes scrunch as his smile turns teasing.

Despite everything he’s going through Tommy hasn’t lost that dry sense of humor that had caught Buck’s attention. Right from that first meeting, when Chim had driven them to the harbor station after calling Tommy for help finding the cruise ship, there had been something special about Tommy. Buck just hadn’t been able to work out what it was straight away.

The man had swanned out of the hanger clad in a blue jumpsuit that should have been unflattering, but somehow looked like he’d swiped it right from a fashion catwalk, and greeted Chim with an embrace that dwarfed the small man. Tommy had shaken Buck’s and Eddie’s hands in turn and asked them what their plan was. He hadn’t even taken a second to consider another option when Chimney had asked if he could get them a helicopter.

“For Captain Nash, anything,” Tommy had said solemnly, leaving Buck wondering what the story was behind the vow, and had bustled them toward a bright yellow helicopter with an instruction to stay out of sight until Hen arrived.

It hadn’t been until they’d safely landed on the rescue ship, grabbing a much-needed warm drink after watching Bobby and Athena reunite, that Buck realized he’d introduced himself as Evan rather than by his chosen name. Tommy had stood next to him, full of jokes about how no one would fire them now that they were officially heroes, and had asked Buck if that was how life was now at the 118. He hadn’t registered at first that Tommy was talking to him as he was so used to hearing the name Evan directed at him. But strangely, he hadn’t minded in the least.

Maybe that should have been his first hint at just how much the man was about to turn Buck’s whole life around.

“I know, I just…it’s a lot of moving parts, you know?” Buck shrugs as he stuffs a clean LAFD tee into his duffle bag.

It had hurt so much seeing Tommy suffering so much. It had been three days before the vomiting had let up enough for him to be able to keep down more than a few sips of water and a handful of saltine crackers. Buck had stayed for the duration of it, calling out sick claiming a stomach flu, and turning down all offers from the 118 to stop by and check on him and find him not at home. He’d confessed the truth when he’d returned for their next block of shifts, having gotten Tommy’s permission to share the news of his diagnosis, and just as Buck had predicted everyone had been shocked but had also offered to do whatever they could to help.

Getting Tommy to accept that help from someone other than Buck, however, had been more of a battle. When Buck had taken vacation days for the second cycle Tommy had been agitated, insisting Buck didn’t need to babysit him, that he could just check on Tommy after his shift. It had been hard not to let his frustration show when he’d reminded the man how he’d had to clean up the vomit before it stained the rug, how he’d washed weeks’ worth of dishes and done multiple loads of laundry, how he’d had to help Tommy in and out of the bathtub because he hadn’t had enough energy to stand, let alone wash himself.

“I’m not judging you for it,” Buck had insisted, softening his voice when he’d spotted the embarrassment on Tommy’s face. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. Watching you suffer is one thing, but actually going through it? I wouldn’t cope any better. Just accept the help, Tommy. Even if you say no I’m going to be here anyway, all of us are.”

read on ao3

@911bingo

If you like please reblog!!!

[why-i-love-comics]

Uncanny X-Men #1 - "Red Wave" (2024)

written by Gail Simone art by David Marquez & Matthew Wilson

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Bucket List || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: Life changes in the blink of an eye with a diagnosis and you are forced to face your mortality with the help of Charles Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, grief, implied character death.

WC: 5.8k

Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments || Five Years Later

The winter break was meant to be a time for Charles to relax but one simple act had put an end to those plans. It had been a little joke between lovers while you were getting dressed. Charles had seen an opportunity and taken it, cradling the swell of your breast in his palm and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Honk, honk!”

You gasped at the sudden pain that flared and rubbed at the aching area. Charles was immediately sorry, apologising profusely as he brushed your hand aside and massaged it gently for you.

“It’s ok, Cha, this one’s been a bit tender lately.”

“What do you mean?” His concern was palpable and his hand flattened so the palm was pressing into your flesh. You couldn’t hide the wince at the spot he touched and he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“What?!” You stepped away and grabbed your breast, almost immediately feeling what he felt as your heart began to hammer hard in your chest. “It’s probably nothing, boobs are lumpy all the time.”

“Yeah…” he murmured distractedly. “We should probably check just to be sure. Right?”

You tried to nod casually but it was too hurried. “I mean, just to be sure.”

Everything moved quickly after that. The exhaustion was no longer jet lag. The low red blood count was no longer anaemia. The lump was no longer just fatty tissue.

“What happens now?”

You looked at your boyfriend, but his eyes were fixed on the doctor who had been explaining the test results. Charles had done all of the talking while you sat in a state of shock. You didn’t even feel like you were inside your own body but floating somewhere in the room and watching from outside.

“We could take a biopsy to be certain but the tests so far are quite conclusive and I wouldn’t recommend waiting. We could fit you in to remove the tumour in the next couple of days and have you home for Christmas.”

You knew this already. He had spoken about removing the lump. You couldn’t bring yourself to call it a tumour because, benign or malignant, it made it too real. Removing the lump was the extreme simplification of what he really meant. Mastectomy. Double to be precise. The risk was too great to leave the other breast untreated, apparently.

“We’ll take the surgery as soon as possible.”

You blinked at Charles, waiting to see if he would even look in your direction before making such a decision but his chin was resting on the tip of his steepled fingers. He leaned forwards, digging his elbows into his knees as he always did when he was deep in thought.

“No,” you rasped. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can,” Charles replied without even looking at you. He had hardly looked your way since the first appointment a week ago.

“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Doctor Hall said softly as he rose from his chair and left the room, the click of the door closing too loud in the heavy silence.

“It’s my body, Charles,” you whispered, your throat too hoarse to manage anything louder.

“I know that, but this is your life we are talking about.”

“We don’t even know for certain that it’s…that it’s…”

“It’s cancer,” he said with a sigh, “not saying it doesn’t change the test results.”

Your eyes burned, your tear ducts working overtime all week. The harsh lines on Charles’ face softened as he saw them well on your waterline before spilling over. Pulling you into his lap, he cradled your head to his chest as you ruined yet another one of his shirts with your makeup and tears.

“Mon amour, we will get through this but we have to trust the doctors.”

“I won’t have boobs,” you whispered as your voice broke.

Charles curled his finger under your chin and tipped it back as he searched your eyes for the answer. He found what he was looking for and dropped his forehead to yours with a shake of his head. “You will still be the most beautiful woman in the world. And I need you in the world, mon amour, do you understand that? I need you to fight this.”

A few days turned out to be just one after the oncology department received a large, anonymous donation. The private room in the hospital was filled with bouquets from friends and family, their floral scents were almost able to erase the tart smell of bleach. You still felt numb to the entire experience and Charles watched on with concern as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

Your reflection was the same, yet it wasn’t. Permanent marker pen lined the skin that would soon be permanently marred. The outlines accentuated what would be taken from you and you turned to your side profile, trying to imagine waking up without the pieces of your body Charles had loved.

“The surgeon said there are options, if it’s really that important to you,” Charles said as he pushed off the doorway he had leaned against and walked into the room. “But you don’t have to think about that now.”

You let him drape the surgical gown over your arms and they fell limp at your side while he tied the bows to keep your modesty. “Come and lay down with me,” he murmured as he took your hand and led you to the bed. You hadn’t been sleeping well, neither of you had.

It was narrow but Charles made space for you to lay in his arms with his chest pressed to your back. Monaco was alive outside the window you faced but the sounds didn’t reach you. Instead of watching the cars on their journeys you turned your eyes up to the cloudless sky and spotted the gulls that danced in the salt air.

“I lo-.”

Charles’ chest shuddered with the breath he took before he kissed your temple and whispered, “Don’t.”

“I need to tell you.”

“We promised, not until you wake up.”

“But what if I-”

“Don’t,” Charles begged, a wet drop falling into your hair. “Please.”

A knock sounded at the door but you kept your eyes firmly only the white feathers of the bird that landed on your windowsill outside. Charles pressed his lips to your temple once more before releasing you from his hold and climbing off the bed.

“I’ll be right there when you wake up, mon amour.”

“I…I’ll see you soon.”

He smiled sadly as you caught yourself from saying what you wanted to say, that sad smile remaining while your bed was wheeled away. You craned your neck as you were taken further down the hall, wanting to memorise the way he looked in case it was the last time you had the chance.

As promised, you woke up bleary eyed and groggy to those gold and green eyes, his hands holding yours tenderly as he sat beside your bed.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted as his smile brightened your day. It was a true smile, one you hadn’t seen for over a week, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed the dimples in his cheeks. “I love you.”

You felt drunk as the anaesthesia still circulated your body and you were sure you slurred the words you had been banned from telling him before. “I love you.”

You dozed in and out of consciousness until the pain relief began to wear off and breathing itself hurt. The bandages across your chest irritated your skin and the stitches pulled with every little movement. Charles noticed it all.

“I’ll see if they can give you anything for the pain.”

You caught his hand before he could leave and winced as the IV line in your hand tugged uncomfortably. “I’m hungry.”

Charles chuckled, knowing you would be after eating nothing before the surgery, and cradled your cheek gently. “Maman’s on her way with your favourites. I’ll be right back, baby.”

Charles arrived back with a large bag of hot dishes from your favourite restaurants around the city and the promise that the nurse would bring some medicine around soon. 

“We’ll have someone come and move you up to the ward shortly,” the kind nurse said after she had given you another dose of pain relief. “You’ll be able to see your visitors there.”

You thanked her since you knew your parents would have been waiting with Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo too. Charles had been keeping them updated since you woke up and his phone was constantly going off with notifications from your friends. 

“How are you feeling?”

You placed your fork down into the empty bowl and Charles whisked it off your lap and tidied up the rubbish with the need to keep himself busy. “I don’t know,” you admitted as your head began to clear from the anaesthesia. “Two weeks ago we were partying in Baku and now we’re here. I still don’t know how this even happened. What if they made a mistake? This was all done so quickly.”

Charles carefully tucked the sheet back around your body after helping you to lie back down. “Mon amour, this is one of the best hospitals, they wouldn’t have done this unless it was the right decision for your health.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know how to feel anything right now, except confusion.” You took his hand as he sat back into the chair beside your bed and kissed his knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Me?” His brows pinched together as if he hadn’t been thinking for himself, and he really hadn’t. All of his thoughts and feelings had been focused on you. “I’m relieved, I suppose. You are here, I get to kiss you and hold your hand. That is good.”

You smiled at the hope in his voice. “I don’t remember a kiss.”

“Ah,” he hummed with a nod as he leaned closer until his lips were so close you could feel the heat of them as he whispered, “This one.”

You were warned that day two would be the hardest. The hard drugs had worn off and what you were supplied with took away the dull throbbing ache when you were stationary but did nothing to prevent the sharp pain of moving. 

Charles had just lifted you back into bed after helping you go to the bathroom when the surgeon arrived with a forlorn look on his face. Immediately you felt the air leave the room.

Doctor Hall started with the good news, that the surgery went as planned with minimal bleeding from the tissue removal, but then there was a pause. Your fingers tightened around Charles hand as the doctor flipped the piece of paper on his clipboard over and clicked the end of his pen. 

“When we began the removal of the tumour we found that the shape wasn’t exactly as we expected from the ultrasound.” He drew an oval shape on the paper before adding webs spindling off in all directions and pointing to them. “We removed as many of the tentacles as we could find but they are invasive and so we would like to start chemotherapy as soon as you have recovered from the operation.”

Charles' knee shook the bed as it bounced nervously. “Chemo?”

“Does this mean it is definitely c-cancer?” you stumbled over the word as you said it aloud for the first time.

The doctor nodded. “We were quite sure before but pathology confirmed it with the sample we sent.” 

“What about Christmas?” you asked. “Can I still go home for Christmas?”

The doctor nodded again and you exhaled in relief. Christmas had been organised to be held at your house for months and it would give you a chance to do something normal after your life had been thrown off the rails. You needed this Christmas. 

“We will schedule you in for after New Years, but you wouldn’t want to delay it much further than that.”

“Thank you,” Charles choked out for the both of you as you fell silent and he left. “What are you thinking so hard about, beautiful?”

“The menu. It needs to be special. And I want to invite everyone.”

“What, slow down, what are you talking about?”

“Christmas, Cha, I need to start planning now.”

Charles knew you were deflecting, pouring yourself into a future task so you didn’t have to think about the present. You had already gone through enough, so he bit his tongue and took a second to clear the thoughts he wanted to voice. Instead, he asked, “who, exactly, is everyone?”

“Slow down, you’re meant to be relaxing,” Charles warned as you rushed around the house for a last minute tidy up. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby, let me help.”

“I love you, but please leave this to me. I know where everything is.”

“I do too,” he exclaimed, falling silent when you picked up a remote that had stopped working. You had asked him to get the batteries for it the night before, but he hadn’t been able to find them. 

“Second drawer in the kitchen,” you said as you tossed it to him and folded the blanket you snuggled under with him every night. “But you knew that right.”

He sent you a charming smile as he backed out of the room. “Of course, honey.”

You chuckled at his retreating figure. “Thought so.”

You had just finished lighting the scented candles around the house when the front door opened and Arthur breezed into the living room. 

“Merry Christmas, ma chére. Shouldn’t you have your feet up?” he tutted as he kissed your cheeks, careful not to hug you since your chest still hurt. 

“Merry Christmas, Tuthur.” His smile lifted at the old nickname and it only grew as you said, “You know how well your brother cooks. Be glad I don’t have my feet up.”

Everyone arrived steadily after Arthur and as the night grew colder every seat in the living room was taken by your guests. You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas as you sat on Charles lap and listened to Joris recount how he had spent the winter break so far.

You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas, but it wasn’t.

You were self-conscious in a way you never were before. The dresses you had loved so much were now something you couldn’t bear to wear as it accentuated the changes in your body. You had taken one shopping trip with Pascale so you could buy some presents but by the time you had got home there was a photo circulating the F1 WAG pages. The comments had nearly made you sick as they compared your flat chest to that of a young boy, or joked that the championship wasn’t the only thing that was lost at the end of the season. 

You knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out but you doubted they would feel any remorse, anyone who could say such things through a keyboard didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel guilt. 

When midnight came and went, so too did the guests. Tipsy and jolly, they said their goodbyes and well wishes until the house fell quiet except for the music playing softly from the speakers. Charles pulled you into his arms and gently rocked you side to side as you laid your head on his chest. “Merry Christmas, mon amour. I didn’t know what to get you this year, so I was absolutely selfish and got this.”

Charles stepped out of your embrace as he dropped to one knee and held a ring out. Similarly designed to his mother’s, the ring was timeless and elegant with a large princess cut diamond. “Will you make me the happiest man and marry me?”

You had waited years for the question but the answer that fell from your lips went against every fibre of your being. Your hands covered your mouth but there was no silencing the words as they hung in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Confusion slapped Charles’ pink cheeks and he swallowed twice before his voice could work again. “Why not?”

“You know why,” you whispered. 

“No, I don’t.”

“Because I’m sick, and I don’t want to make plans if I’m not going to be there to…I just don’t think now is the right time.” You took the ring from his fingers and sighed with longing. “It’s beautiful, Char.”

“Hold on to it for me,” he said as he stood up and closed your hand around it. “When you beat this, I’ll be waiting, mon amour, however long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”

You held the ring tight as you closed the distance and put all the words and emotion you couldn’t articulate into a kiss, deepening it until you were breathless and needy. “Come to bed,” you breathed against his lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked pained by the very idea, or maybe it was the weeks of celibacy after your surgery.

Lacing your fingers together, you took a step towards the stairs and gently tugged him to follow. “You could never hurt me.”

The moment had been weeks in the making as the chemotherapy took its toll on you. For days after the treatment you had been ill and Charles had been at your side with a bowl ready for when you emptied the contents of your stomach. Then your muscles ached and you could barely hold your own weight up to walk. Just when you thought the worst had come to pass you felt the first strands come loose.

“Hello, my dear,” Pascale answered your call, only to be met with a hiccup. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“M-my hair,” you stammered as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Charles had been out shopping but you saw his face appear behind you as you turned to show him what filled your gripped fist. “It’s my hair.”

“I’ll be over shortly, just let me lock up the shop,” Pascale soothed before ending the call.

“I just brushed it,” you hiccuped as you touched your hair again, more of it floating to the tile floor. “It won’t stop.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured as he took your hand and brushed the hair from your palm. “Maman will know what to do. We’ll get through this like we have everything else, together.”

Pascale promised she could have a wig made for you if you wanted one but it was already late in the evening and you knew she was exhausted from working all day. You did however accept her offer to shave the rest of your head so at least the patches of missing hair didn’t stand out as much. Charles had sat with you in the bathroom and held your hand the entire time before asking his mother to shave his next.

“No, I love your hair,” you argued as he pulled his shirt over his head to save it from getting covered in the short dark strands.

“I told you we are doing this together,” he replied as he kissed your knuckles and nodded to his mum to proceed.

It took a while to get used to the smooth feel of skin on your head but you came to prefer it to the wig that Pascale crafted, somehow finding hair that was almost the exact same shade and texture to your natural hair. The moment you got home from any outing you would pull the wig off with a grateful moan just as you used to do with your bra.

“Are you going to be alright? Maman said she can come and stay with you.” Charles sat on his suitcase so he could zip it closed before looking up to where you sat in bed with a book on your lap. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “It’s only for two nights.”

His team had let him get away with having one extra night at home before going to Bahrain for the 2024 pre-season testing, but it was still too long away from you in his eyes. You would have been with him but you were due some follow up tests.

“You’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to miss me,” you teased, spurring him to climb onto the bed and cage you beneath him.

“I miss you every second we are apart.”

You recognised the number calling your cell phone because you still had nightmares from the last time they rang. A pit of dread was already opening in your gut as you hovered your finger over the green button. You debated not answering the call but if you didn’t answer it then he would try Charles’ number next - and he needed to focus on driving.

You wished you never answered the call.

You had been quiet the entire drive from the airport to the hotel Charles was staying at. He wasn’t one to push you to talk before you were ready but he was certainly worried when he reached across the gearbox and placed his hand on your lap. He spared a glance to you as he gently squeezed your thigh but still you didn’t react, or take his hand, or even blink.

You didn’t remember the walk from the car to the hotel room. You were busy thinking about how you were going to break Charles’ heart, something you had never imagined you would have a hand in. You never wanted to hurt him, you loved him more than life itself, a life that was going to be shorter than you had once thought.

Charles stood quietly in the doorway to the bedroom, your suitcase still in his hand. He watched as you pulled your wig off for the first time since leaving Monaco and listened as you sighed heavily. His feet only carried him closer when you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and held it out silently.

“What’s this?” Charles asked as he unfolded the note you had written on the plane. You had almost 10 hours to think of everything you wanted to do while you could and his eyes scanned over the list. “Baby, what is this?”

“It’s my bucket list.”

“A bucket list?”

“It’s a list of what I want to do before I die.”

“I know what a bucket list is!” He took a breath and ran his hand over the fuzz that had grown back on his scalp before lowering his voice as he shook the paper. “Why am I holding yours?”

His green eyes blurred with tears as you bit your lip and looked at your feet. He was already shaking his head in denial, wet droplets soaking into the list.

“My results came back…”

“Non, non, baby, non…”

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you choked as he fell to his knees and let the paper fall to the floor. His arms encircled your hips and you cradled the back of his head to your stomach as he cried against you. You finally let your own tears fall, the tears you had held back since you received the news. “I’m so sorry.”

Charles missed testing the next morning as he held you in his arms. The tears had long run out but the sadness still remained. He had laid with you all night as close as your bodies would allow and together you had seen the sunrise over the desert. He had listened to you quietly recount the doctor’s words but most of it made no sense to him. 

Metastasized. Stage four. Terminal. The information ruined him.

“How long?” he finally asked. He looked at the paper that was still on the bedroom floor before clearing his throat and trying again. “How long do we have?”

You didn’t know if answering him would help or not but he was waiting for an answer as you rolled over to face him. The last three months had taken a toll on him and dark circles rimmed his eyes and they no longer held the same brightness. They were only going to dim more at the news. “Six months, maybe a year.”

He was silent, but you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Emotions warred behind his eyes before he climbed out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

You hated the silence but the screaming was worse. The painful wail echoed around the room and you felt it shatter something deep in your chest, before something shattered in the bathroom.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you held yourself together while Charles fell apart.

You weren’t sure how long he screamed at the universe, how many times he asked it why, what he had done to deserve to lose someone else he loved. You weren’t sure how long it took him to clean the blood from his fist and wash his face of the tears before he unlocked the door and slipped back into the bed.

“Whatever you want, mon amour,” he promised as he unclenched your hands and curled his body around yours. “Anything you want to do, we’ll do it. We’ll do it all together.”

You stood at the edge of the lookout and smiled at Charles as he took the photo, another one for the memory box you were making together. Charles kept his promise, taking you everywhere around the world with him to tick off the items on your bucket list.

You had watched him win his home race for the first time and gone to a couples cooking class.

You visited all the Disneyland Theme Parks you hadn’t been to before: the Tokyo one when he raced in Suzuka, the Chinese one when he raced in Shanghai and the Floridian one when he raced in Miami. 

Charles had taken you to Iceland to camp under the northern lights and to Pamukkale in Turkey where the blue waters were meant to work miracles. It hadn’t cured the illness that ravaged your body but each activity you crossed off cured some of the sadness in your soul.

“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Charles commented as he looked up at Christ the Redeemer. “What size shoes do you think he wears?”

“Well you know what they say about big feet.”

Charles’ head fell back with a laugh. “You cannot say that about Jesus.”

You fluttered your eyelashes innocently as he stepped closer to take a photo of you together. “I was going to say he wears big socks, get your head out of the gutter.”

“Of course you were, mon amour.” Charles’ lips curled up in amusement and you relished the way his eyes crinkled before you rose onto your toes so you could kiss him before the smile faded. 

The flash of his camera captured the moment and you reluctantly pulled away as the sun began to set on another day spent living. The days were getting tiresome, your energy flagging as the medication changed from treating the illness to managing the pain. You had read enough to know that time was running out.

“We should get going, don’t want to miss our flight to Vegas.”

“About that…” he trailed off as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it in your hand. “I made a list of my own.”

Marry the woman of my dreams.

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

—

Pascale had created a beautiful headpiece for your wedding but when it came time to leave you hadn’t been able to place it on your head. A year ago you had only dreamt of the day you married Charles and in all those imagined scenes you had your hair styled up like she had crafted on the wig with pearl pins and a delicate tiara. But a lot had changed in a year, you had changed. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful,” she said as she wiped her eyes. Your own mother was speechless as she pulled you into her arms and held you tight.

“I’m going to ruin my makeup if you two don’t stop crying.”

“Honey, let her go,” your dad said softly as he placed a hand on your mother’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

Your throat felt as if it were closing and for a second you held on tighter before you both opened your arms. “I love you,” you said to them all as you looked at the proud but sad smiles on their faces. “Thank you for making this possible, for both of us.”

Your father grabbed the wheelchair you had been using, the exhaustion sometimes too much for you to handle, but you shook your head. “I’m going to marry him on my own two feet.”

You knew Charles had a lot of help organising the wedding because there was no way he could have done it on his own. The entire paddock had come to a standstill at the end of Media Day and you found yourself walking down a makeshift aisle on the grid to the starting lights. 

Hundreds of friends joined your families on the track and you had no doubt that Charles had flown them all there at his own expense. 

“When you said married in Vegas, I thought you meant the White Chapel,” you whispered with a giggle.

Charles' smile grew at the sound and he took your hands in his. “That’s something tacky Pierre would do.”

“Hey,” the groomsman objected beside Charles. “Elvis isn’t tacky. Focus on your own wedding, mate.”

You laughed at the exchange before Lorenzo cleared his throat and your eyes widened as you realised he was the celebrant. “Is this legal?”

“The online certificate I got says so,” he said with a wink. “But if you’ve changed your mind I can skip the legal bits.”

Your eyes lit up with amusement. “No way, I’m not going to miss having you as a brother-in-law.”

“And I thought we were here because you wanted to marry me,” Charles joked. He had waited so long to marry you but now that the moment was here he was in no rush for it to end. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where you were lighthearted and smiling. Where you weren’t lost in thought but present in the moment, with him. 

“I do,” you said with a grin before peeking back at his older brother. “Does that count, can I kiss him now?”

Lorenzo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not quite, shall we get started?”

Charles could hardly keep still with his excitement. “Ready, baby?”

You reached into a hidden pocket in the dress and pulled out the engagement ring he proposed at Christmas with. Slipping it into your finger, you gave him a serious nod. “Now I am.”

—

“Good morning, Mrs Leclerc.”

You smiled as Charles kissed your shoulder blade and rolled you over to face him. He had already showered and dressed for the day before climbing back into bed with you and you peeked at the clock to see he would almost be late. 

“You should be at the track already,” you hummed between the sweet kisses he peppered across your skin. 

“Wasn’t going to miss watching you wake up as my beautiful wife for the first time.” His smile wavered as he kissed your forehead before pressing the back of his hand to it. “How are you feeling?”

“A little tired, but last night was worth the lack of sleep.”

He smirked and traced your lips longingly with his eyes. “Definitely worth it. But you don’t feel hot or cold?”

“Focus on FP1, Cha,” you said with a little push for him to get out of bed. “You’re going to be late.”

He playfully nipped your collarbone before getting off the bed and blowing you a kiss. “Rest up, mon amour, I’ll come back between the practices.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, more than the moon and the stars.”

“Hopeless romantic.”

“Love of my life. Fire in my loins. The apple of my-“

“Go away!” You tossed a pillow at him before falling back into the warm blankets with a laugh that turned to a yawn. “Profess your love to someone else and let me sleep.”

“Never,” he chuckled quietly as he watched your chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm. “It will only be you.”

Your health deteriorated rapidly after Vegas and your doctor urged you to return to Monaco, but you weren’t ready to leave just yet. There was only one thing left on your bucket list and it was within your grasp. Charles and Max were neck and neck in the championship but you had faith your husband would triumph in the end. So instead of heading home you remained by his side in Qatar and Abu Dhabi, letting him hire a medical team as a trade off for ignoring your doctor's advice.

It wasn’t just the season coming to an end and you could both feel it as Charles prepared for the final race. You didn’t have the strength to go to the track and see him start from pole, the prime position for the championship deciding race. You barely had the strength to stay awake for the whole race but you fought against the heaviness in your body and scanned the screens that had been brought into your room.

Pride made you heart light as you watched the world through Charles’ eyes. The onboard camera was clear ahead, all his competitors in his rear view, and as the laps passed by his lead grew wider. Charles was flying and he was taking you with him.

Charles took a seat on the centre podium as confetti rained down and fireworks exploded overhead. He wiped the sweat and champagne from his face before reaching into his race suit and grabbing the pen and paper he had tucked away.

Putting a strike through the last line he held it up triumphantly to the camera. “We did it, mon amour, we did it.”

You smiled as if he would see it and closed your eyes as you lost the battle. “I’m ready to go home now.”

The Bucket List:

Sleep under the northern lights 

Swim with sharks

Skinny dip (not with sharks)

See Christ the Redeemer

Bowl a strike

Go to every Disneyland once

Ride an elephant

Go to India for the colour festival 

Win an escape room

Learn to whistle 

Have a mud bath

Teach Charles to cook

Watch the Grand National horse race

Get a tattoo

Learn to use chopsticks

Throw beads at Mardi Gras 

Have my palm read

Try absinthe 

Ride a luge

Go to a rage room

Join the mile high club 

Catch a fish

Make a will

Bathe in healing waters 

Charles Leclerc - World Champion

Click here for the requested last day alive.

[guardian-angle22]

911: Lone Star | Tommy Vega S2E10 -> S5E7

[novashelby]

The Storm That Heals Us~ Tommy Shelby x Cancer patient!Reader: Angst

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Triggering topic such as cancer

Word Count: 1,223

Summary: Tommy's wife is diagnosed with cancer and tries to hide it from him because they have a rocky marriage

This was requested by anon a while back. I hope it is okay. I don't do well with the topic of cancer

We’ve only been married a year. They say three is a lucky number. I was supposed to be the lucky number. But truth be told, nothing about our marriage had been lucky. In the midst of all his darkness, I was convinced he married me for emotional convenience. But when Tommy Shelby found out I wasn’t going to be walked on or over, we started fighting more. A hot head and one who hates to be wrong. It’s a bit tricky to figure out which one of us is which. Perhaps we are the same person and that is why we suck together. 

But that is not why it’s unlucky number three. Just last month I was bathing, feeling the warm soapy water encasing my body. When I dragged the sponge over my right breast, something seemed off. Something seemed tender and bruised. Quickly, I threw the sponge in water and felt around with my hand. There was a small lump, but nonetheless a lump. If I was anyone else, I would have assumed a pimple or swollen hair follicle, but I’m not anyone else. It’s the family curse. My great grandmother, my grandmother, my two aunts, and my mother have all found the lump. Thankfully for my mother, she was able to get it treated. But I am doomed for bad luck. That’s what Tommy tells me everytime something happens. “You have that fookin’ luck…that bad luck.” 

As soon I found that fucking lump, I went to the doctor only to get confirmation of what I already knew. I hate to say that the first thing that left my mouth was, “how long?” But the doctor sighed. They always sigh. 

He told me, “Well, it’s small. We’ll remove it and do some radiation treatment-”

“And lose my hair?” I also hate to say that was the second question, but Tommy loves my hair. Sometimes I think what he loves about me is thinning with each day.  

I never told Tommy about the procedure, and one night, when he went to run his hand over my body, I stopped him. It was as if I was repulsed by him. Just as I knew, Tommy didn’t take very kindly to my refusal. He sat up, looking at me before saying, “is this how our marriage is going to be now?” We sat side by side, under the covers on the bed. He replaced my breast in lieu of a cigarette.

“I don’t feel well,” I said, and his response made my blood boil. 

“You never feel well anymore,” he said. “I’m starting to think it’s me. Perhaps we should discuss something that will make you feel better.” There was always a tone of threat. He dealt with his lovers as he did his business partners. 

That was it for that night. 

Which brings me to now. The bathroom floor feels cold against my clammy body. I puked up my dinner which was nothing, but a few biscuits and a glass of milk. Milk is a no-no for my new stomach, I’ve learned. But as I’m on this bathroom floor, I realize. I realize that Tommy will know. He will figure it out. My body will thin out, I’ll be bruised, and my cheeks will sink in. Nevermind my hair that is already falling out in clumps. As I hear his footsteps approach, I try to gather myself to save face, but moving just makes it worse. My body feels like it’s on a merry go round, and I cling to the toilet once more. At this point, as I feel the burning acid climb up my insides, I don’t know what I am throwing up. It is a clear bile. 

As I am hunched over, Tommy walks in and asks, “are you pregnant?” Oh, how easy that would have been. 

I turn to him, face pale. I could see myself in the mirror. My eyes look sunken with heavy bags. “No.”

He sighs. “Have you seen a doctor?” he asks like I am dumb.

I’m blunt. “Yes.”

“Well?” he presses, coming inward, leaning on the bathroom vanity, puffing on his smoke. Always a smoke. Before I can answer him, I beg him to put it out.

“The smell, Tommy-”

“How far along are you?” he asks, disregarding the fact I told him I’m not pregnant. “Funny enough, love, we haven’t fucked in two months. Every night I wait for your comfort. Perhaps you’re going elsewhere for it-”

“I’m not pregnant, Tommy.” My head is boiling at this point and I feel my temper on the verge. I sit up, resting against the toilet, trying to catch my breath. He’s not convinced, I can see it in his face. How he’s half ignoring me. 

“You know,” he starts, pointing a finger my way. “I do fuckin’ love you. You married me, thought you understood the way I am-”

“Tommy,” I plead, closing my eyes. “Please.” But he goes on and on about how I betrayed his trust, but he still loves me and wants to work through whatever it is. 

“But that fuckin’ baby is going-”

“I’m not fuckin’ pregnant!” I yell at him in a tone I never dared to before. It was enough for him to get a bit startled. He is about to say something else when I say, “I found a lump on my right breast.” Tommy pauses mid-smoke, and looks over at me, eyes knitted. “A few weeks ago, maybe a month ago now…I don’t know. They ran a test-”

“You never told me,” he says in this low, depressing whisper that makes me feel like every problem in the world is my fault. Tommy finds his way to the bath basin and sits on the edges. He throws his lit smoke in the sink and runs his fingers through his hair. “And you never thought to tell me?”

“I didn’t want it to be another burden-”

“What?” He turns to me, face like a ghost. He slides to the marble flooring next to me. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. I feel him tenderly grab me by the face, placing me in his lap. His chin rests on my head. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, love, I’m…love, you should have told me?” This was the Tommy I met and agreed to marry. The one who is tender and loving, smooth talking and sweet. I twist in his lap and his hand rests on my cheek. “I’m scared to ask-”

“It’s early enough,” I say, nodding, swallowing the lump down. “But it doesn’t feel any better-”

“No, no it doesn’t,” he agrees, leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead. “God, love, I love you so much. And I just…I've been so selfish. From now, you and I are going to go through this together-”

“Tommy, Tommy, please,” I whisper. “Just lets not act all weepy-”

“I’m not,” he protests, gripping my chin. “I’m taking care of you because if you have forgotten, I am your husband.” Yes, I have forgotten, but at this moment, I forgive it and soak up his affection. I need every inch of tenderness I can get my hands on. And so, I move on and relax into his words. “I love you.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” I say before quickly adding, “I love you, too.” 

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Series Masterlist

Summary: When Jake is tasked with taking his kids this festive season, he never though he’d get a call in the middle of the night that would change his life. Marriage is tougher than it seemed on paper—but whats harder than accepting your marriage is crumbling around you is watching you ex wife slowly fade away.

Warnings: Character Death. Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ANGST. Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Author Note: Masterlist subject to change as series is still a work in progress. Descriptions, word counts and titles may vary.

-> Chapter One: [The Diagnosis] The last thing you ever expected was to be diagnosed with breast cancer. To make matters worse? You’d been separated from the love of your life for just shy of a year. How do you tell the love of your life you might be dying? It’s simple really— You don’t. (Out Now) 2.1

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma] Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife. (Out Now) 4.6

-> Chapter Three: [V For Vendetta] When your stomach can’t handle the Chemo medication, you empty the content of your stomach. While doing so, you and Jake come to a crossroads about your relationship going forward. (Out Now) 4.5

-> Chapter Four: [Parental Guidance] Jakes Mother simply cannot understand what he saw in you, your mother simply cannot comprehend why you left Jake. (Out Now) 4.1

-> Chapter Five: [Why Do They Call It Love?] Jake spends time with his side of the family and your kiddos in Texas. The lies quickly come to an end though when an overworked and overwhelmed nursing student makes the wrong call to your not so emergent contact. (Out Now) 5k

-> Chapter Six: [Chaos & Conflict] As panic consumes Jake after finding out about your current medical condition, Jake calls your mother to fill in the gaps. Nurse Lydia escapes being taken to her supervisor and Jake lets lose on his mother who tries to stop him leaving. (Out Now) 4.4k

-> Chapter Seven [Faucet Failure] Jake makes his way back to you after finding out the truth. While under sedation to give your brain some rest, you remember the good times and the bad with your husband. (Out Now)4.6

-> Chapter Eight [Oh, Honeybee] Jake can’t accept why you’d keep such a life threatening situation a secret and you can’t accept why he suddenly seems to care. (Out Now) 4k

-> Chapter Nine [The Pomegranate Theory] Jakes still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening with your health. Doctor Ignatii oversteps? And you settle in while Jake helps you write some of your newest book. (Out Now) 4.3

-> Chapter Ten [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?] Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time. (Out Now) 4.0k

-> Chapter Eleven [The Man] When Jensen and Jake butt heads over who’s what to you, it blows way out of proportion to an extent so high, that Jake lashes out. (Out Now) 5.6

-> Chapter Twelve [Bring Me The Horizon] After Jensen and Jake finish their face-off, you tell Jake how it is. He practices the art of holding himself accountable for his actions, and you get a call that would send you into a downward spiral. Putting you in jeopardy right before your surgery. (December 2024) 5.1k

-> Chapter Thirteen [Panic Room] (December 2024)

-> Epilogue (December 2024)

New Chapters Coming December 2024

[adulthoodisokay]

I kept a scarf because it smells like her and I kept a bracelet because she wore it when I was little and I kept the flying pig necklace because I got it for her when she had cancer 18 years ago and she said she would get discharged “when pigs fly” and I feel like the saddest girl in the whole world

[imtryingbuck]

Thirty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 5,109

Warnings: angst, heavy use of pet names. Engagement. Wedding. Death (Cancer) someone makes an appearance. Swearing. Fluff.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

~Two and a half years ago~

The barbeque get-together that Howard and Maria was throwing was in full swing, Y/n and Bucky along with Steve and Sam was sitting at a wooden bench laughing at something that Tony had shouted to Morgan – his daughter.

Y/n sat there with Bucky’s arm around her shoulders listening to whatever he was talking about with the boys, every now and again he would press a kiss to her temple. Her eyes drifted over to where her dad and George was manning the grill, chuckling softly as George pulls Howard closer and all but force him to dance along with the music that was playing through the speakers. Every time her eyes caught her mommas and Winnie’s both women smiled brightly and turned to each other to whispering to each other.

“Son, come here” George shouted.

“Be back in a second pretty girl” Bucky told her, getting up and walking over to his dad and Howard. Maria and Winnie soon following, as well as Sam and Steve. Then Tony and Pepper – his wife. Then Rebecca – Bucky’s sister – joined them.

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion she went to get up but Morgan came bouncing over to her “Auntie Y/n do you like my wings?”

“I do sweetie”

“Do you want some?”

“I do”

“I can ask uncle Bucky to get you some”

Chuckling at the four year old she nodded “I would appreciate it if you did”

“Then we can match all the time and be fairies”

“That would be amazing-“

“Morg come here darling” Pepper called for her daughter.

Morgan turned to face her mom and confused Y/n even more by asking “Did I do good mommy?”

“You did sweetheart” Pepper replied, smiling at Y/n.

Everyone moved closer together as Bucky moved towards Y/n, smiling softly he took her hand in his.

“Y/n I love you more than anything in this world. You are my light, my happiness, my sweet Bunny. I am forever grateful for meeting you that day in the woods, because if I didn’t I would have never known the true meaning of love. Bunny will you do me the honours of being my wife?” Getting down on one knee he holds out a box, inside a gorgeous diamond ring.

“Yes” she whispered, tears threatening to spill over. “Yes I’ll marry you Ducky!”

Jumping up her picks her up and spins her around, placing kisses all over her face and finally her lips.

Everyone erupted in cheers. Congratulating the couple on their engagement. The moms had the audacity to act as if they hadn’t seen the ring before, the dads wiped their tears before anyone could see them.

“I love you Bunny”

“I love you Ducky”

It had been two and a half years since they were engaged, there was a few setbacks that made them not rushing into marrying.

First setback was their new home, both sets of parents paid for it as an early wedding gift, it was a beautiful house she had to admit but for Y/n it was way too big just for the two of them. A large gorgeous kitchen, two living rooms, two offices – one going to be turned into a library. Six bedrooms. Yes six. Three and a half bathrooms.

Gorgeous but way too big.

Not wanting to upset anyone or seem ungrateful she placed a huge smile on her face as she hugged her parents and surrogate parents turned in-laws. Moving in and redecorating took longer than planned.

The second setback was Bucky taking over his dads company. There was a lot of business he needed to take care of and Y/n understood, so the wedding got pushed back once again.

The third being Y/n’s biological father showing up.

She was walking down the street with Bucky, Steve and Sam. The plan was to buy some more furniture for the house, and Steve and Sam just had to come too.

The guys went into one store as Y/n went to get a drink from across the street. Everything was fine until-

“Y/n? Y/n” She couldn’t understand why that voice sounded so familiar to her ears until she turned around.

“Hi baby…wait don’t you recognise me? Y/n it’s me, your dad.”

No. No this was not happening. Nope this was a very bad nightmare, come on Y/n wake up.

“Surprised to see me aren’t you? I got out on good behaviour”

Nope, nope this was just life taking the mickey out of me. Wakey wakey Y/n!

“Why are you being weird for? Come and give your old man a cuddle”

The thought of touching you makes my skin crawl. Where the hell is Ducky when I need him? No no no no stay away from me!

“Look how you’ve grown baby girl”

Why aren’t you moving Y/n? What is wrong with you? Ducky? Ducky where the hell are you?

“Bunny? Can you get away from my fiancée, like now!”

Ducky you’re here! Thank God! Please get him away from me!

“Fiancée? Wow my little girl is all grown up indeed, she’s getting married man!”

“Wha-Bun do you know this man?”

“Did they change her name when she was adopted?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m her dad”

Bucky stood straighter at the man’s words. Placing his body in front of hers as a shield he looked back at the store hoping Steve or Sam would see and come out, he needed to get his Bunny way from the monster solely responsible for the pain and suffering she went through.

“Get away from her” Bucky voice dropped low.

“She’s my daughter”

“No she isn’t, don’t ever come near her ever again.”

“Why what are you going to do? Bet I can still control the little cunt. Y/n get here!”

It was a good job that Bucky had been standing in front of her as her foot moved on its own accord.

“Don’t. Don’t call her that”

Sam looked outside pulling on Steve’s arm when he noticed the way Bucky was standing in front of Y/n, and the way she was trying to make herself look smaller behind her fiancés back.

Jogging across the road, Steve slapped his hand on a cars bonnet when the driver nearly ran him and Sam over. “Buck what’s going on?”

“Sam take Bunny down the street. Now”

“Okay-okay. Sunshine come with me sweet girl” coaxing her hands away from Bucky’s jacket as she gripped on for dear life. “Come on Sunny, I got you”

Sam wrapped his strong arms around her shielding her from the prying eyes of strangers he led her down the street, already knowing where to take her. He heard Bucky tell Steve to ring Howard. Sucking in a breath and pulling his best friend, his Sunshine closer to him when he heard Bucky saying who the man was.

Fifty-four minutes later – Sam timed it – the bell ringing chimming over the door signalled someone had entered. He sat them both in the far corner, he watched as she sat on the floor in the corner as she stroked the large black and white cat in her arms.

“Bun?”

“Over here Buck” Sam answered. That’s when he saw Bucky, Steve, Howard, George and Tony. Each of them having blood on their clothes.

“Bunny, baby-it’s me Ducky” Bucky had to tell her when she flinched when he touched her knees.

“D-Ducky?” hearing her sound so small broke their hearts, wanting to go back and beat the prick up even more.

“It’s me baby, who’ve you got today?” he asked referring to the cat in her arms. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/n to come to the cat café on Main Street, sometimes when things got too much for her she would go there spending hours just playing with the cats, sometimes she even helped out the staff if they were busy.

“Mr Nibbles” great name for a cat that nibbled on anything and everything. Who was currently nibbling on her jumper.

“How are you feeling Bun?”

“Stupid”

“Why do you feel stupid baby?”

“I always thought that if I ever saw him again I would call him all the names under the sun, you know? Or at least hurt him but no I just stood there like a frigging idiot not knowing what to frigging say because I’m frigging stupid!”

“Bun you’re not stupid so don’t ever call yourself that ever again. You wasn’t expecting him to appear baby, it’s not your fault-“

“I froze Bucky! I frigging froze an-an-and I didn’t know what to do. I-I-I-“

“Y/n breath-“

Shaking her head, she couldn’t, she needed him to know why she froze. She needed to explain. She couldn’t let him think she was weak. “I recognised his voice straight away, of course I did it haunts my nightmares. I turned around Bucky an-and I wanted to tell him how much I frigging hate him, how much I wished it was him that died and not my mama. I wanted him to know that no matter h-how much he thought he won he didn’t because he didn’t, did he Bucky? No-no-no-no he didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t”

Not being able to stomach seeing his daughter struggle and stumble over words anymore Howard pushed Bucky out of the way, knocking Mr Nibbles off his daughters lap and pulled her into his arms.

“You’re right angel he didn’t win, he never will baby and I promise you that right now” he spoke with determination to make her understand that she had not only won by living a life surrounded by so many people who loved and adored her. Howard knew that everyone Y/n had around her all thanked whoever had brought her to them, because he did. Every night. Y/n was the light that brightened their lives. The sweetest, kindest, warmest souls out there and they were lucky to call her daughter, sister, fiancée, friend – hell even acquaintance. No matter what she saw the good in people, always happy to help family, friends and strangers.

But not only did she win she also survived. She survived the abuse she suffered, the orphanage, the bullying, the attack done by Brock. She proved the doctors wrong when they told Winnie and George that she wasn’t going to survive the attack from that bastard, by opening her eyes. She survived when she stood in the witness box of the court room and she told a room full of strangers what not only her but her mama had gone through.

Howard Stark was proud to call her his daughter.

Bucky had the wedding date pushed back once again, on the account of Y/n had been too scared to leave their home.

Months passed and Bucky was notified that Y/n’s biological father had been found in a ditch, dead. Nobody knew what or who did it, not like it mattered.

The fourth and final setback was Maria’s cancer diagnosis.

One night when Bucky and Y/n were asleep in bed the phone ringing woke both of them up, Bucky answered groggily sitting up straight away when he heard Tony’s voice on the other side sounding like he had been crying.

“Buck?”

“Baby w-we need to go, come on get dressed”

“What is it? What’s gone off?”

“Bun…it’s your mom. Baby she’s in hospital-” Though she could see his lips moving she just couldn’t hear the words he was speaking.

Getting out of the bed and rushing to her side of the wardrobe she put on whatever clothes she grabbed first. Practically flying down the stairs she rushed out of the house. Bucky following behind closely, trying to get her to slow down but it was no use.

Arriving at the hospital she instantly found Tony, running straight up to him she asked what had happened.

“Dad found her in the kitchen coughing up blood. Y/n/n I-I don’t know much more, Albert – Howard’s brother - rang me telling me to get here as soon as I could.”

“B-but she’s okay right? She will be won’t she Tone? Tony?”

“I-I don’t know Y/n, I don’t know”

By the time Bucky had gotten to them he saw brother and sister holding on to each other crying.

After multiple blood tests the doctor sat the family down the next day as Bucky waited in the waiting room with George and Winnie. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this but the results came back and it is stage four cancer. Lung cancer can be treated with surgery however the mass is too big for us to go down that route, we can also slow it down with the help of chemotherapy but sadly it will not cure it-“

“H-how long do I have left?” Maria interrupted, her hand gripping Howards.

“I can’t say for certain, it varies with everyone-“

“Can you give me a rough estimate? I’m sorry that I keep interrupting you”

“Don’t apologies, I understand. With treatment between seven to sixteen months, maybe even longer. Without treatment a few weeks to a few months” the doctor said regretfully.

“Months. Okay. Okay. That’s okay. When do I start treatment?”

“We can start the process next week”

“Okay, I’ll do it. My daughter is getting married soon a-and I want to see her walk down the aisle, you see” Maria smiled as if she hadn’t just found out that she’s dying.

The doctor smiled too “I’ll make sure that you see that happen”

Truthfully Howard, Tony and Y/n didn’t hear the rest of the conversation – their ears going fuzzy when the doctor said stage four cancer. Only snapping out of it when the door closed behind the doctor, leaving the family to come to terms with the results.

Telling Bucky and his parents, Winnie burst out crying at hearing her oldest friend was going to die. George trying to comfort his wife and best friend. Bucky took Y/n’s hand and took her outside for fresh air.

“It’s not fair Ducky, it’s not fair” she cried “It must be a mistake, it has to be. Yes they made a mistake!”

Even though he knew it was unlikely, he agreed with her. “It’s not fair baby, I know. Maybe they got it wron-“

“There’s no maybe Bucky. They got it wrong! My momma isn’t dying, she isn’t!”

“I know Bunny I know” he didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there and held his fiancée tight in his arms as she soaked his shirt through with her tears.

When Maria heard that Y/n wanted to push the date back just until things had settled down, she was against it at first she tried to argue with her daughter but ultimately got cut off with a coughing fit.

Now six months after her momma’s diagnosis Y/n was standing in the hotel room in front of the ceiling to floor mirror in her wedding dress. Wanda was behind her fixing the back of the dress and her hair at the same time. Nat was taking photos of everyone. Maria sat in the wheelchair she had been using for the past few months, Winnie sat next to her holding her friends hand. Both mothers crying at the image of Y/n in her wedding dress and at the fact that their babies were marrying each other, finally.

On the other side of the city Bucky was doing the same. Standing in front of ceiling to floor mirror in a hotel, Steve helping him fix his tie. Sam taking photos of them all. George and Howard sitting on the bed next to each other drinking whiskey. Both fathers feeling an overwhelming sense of pride at seeing Bucky standing there in his suit, knowing that in just in two hours that he will be marrying the love of his life.

Bride and groom to be both excited and nervous at the knowledge that they’ll be joined as one in two hours.

It was time to leave for the church when Nat stopped Y/n. “Bucky told me to give you this when we was on our way” handing over an envelope Nat gave her best friend a kiss on her cheek before helping Wanda with helping Maria into the car.

Finally seated in the car she opens the envelope containing a photo. At first she was confused as it was just a topless photo of Bucky until she turned the photo around.

She burst out laughing.

‘This is a reminder of what I looked like before we got married.’

“What is it?” Maria asked chuckling.

Showing her momma the photo and telling her to turn it over Maria too started to laugh, which made everyone else intrigued, one by one everyone started to laugh.

Bucky sure knew how to make her nerves settle even when they were apart.

When Steve saw Y/n in her dress he knew Bucky was going to cry. It was going to be the easiest fifty bucks he was going to win. Yes he and Sam made a bet on whether Bucky would cry or not. The bridemaids and groomsmen were in places, Nat and Steve, Wanda and Sam, Rebecca and Tony. Pepper was to help Morgan as she was the flower girl. Winnie had pushed Maria down already and were both waiting for the music to play along with everyone else.

The music had begun and everything was going perfect just like they had practiced but as Y/n put one foot out she just couldn’t move.

“Angel…”

“Dad-dad-I-something’s wrong”

“Nothing’s wrong sweetie, come on James is waiting for you angel”

“No-no it feels wrong. I can’t-“

Bucky looked at Steve, then his dad they both saw the pure fear in his blue eyes. George nodded to his son and smiled reassuringly before making his way out to see what was going on.

“Hey what’s wrong?” he asked seeing father and daughter standing there, Howard shook his head.

“I want you to walk me down the aisle as well George. Please.”

Oh how his heart leapt in his chest.

“Ar-are you sure darling?”

“Yes, it’s only right. That’s if that’s okay with both of you?”

“Of course” Howard and George spoke at the same time.

The music started again and everyone’s attention turned to the double doors as the three stepped over the threshold. Friends and family smiling as Howard, Y/n and George walked by, some of them muttering about how beautiful she looked.

Bucky stood there with tears streaming down his face at seeing his Bunny. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes when they saw Steve smiling and Sam shaking his head, knowing they had put a bet on their friends reaction.

Reaching him Y/n smiled softly at Bucky, giving both Howard and George a kiss on their cheeks she took Bucky’s waiting hand.

“I thought you ran away” Bucky whispered.

“No never, just wanted your dad to give me away as well”

As the pastor greeted everyone and began the ceremony Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from Y/n, nor could she with him.

“James you may read your vows”

“My beautiful Bunny, I love you more today than I did yesterday and I’ll love you more tomorrow than I did today. For as long as I am alive I promise to not only to keep loving you in the purest form but I promise that I will never let you ever second guess my love, loyalty and devotion for you. You are my soul mate, my better half, my Bunny. I promise in front of everyone here to cherish you, to honour and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall tear us apart”

Reaching out to wipe the tears that had fallen on her cheeks, the pastor waited for Bucky to move backwards before telling Y/n that it was her turn to read her vows.

“My beautiful Ducky-“ she started knowing he always blushed when she called him beautiful or pretty. “I have loved you since I knew the real meaning of it. When I look at you all I see is my future, our future. Like I told you on our first date its always been you. You’ve always been my beacon, my happiness. You have saved me so many times I don’t think you realise how many. I will always love you more and more as our days go by and that’s my promise to you. I promise in front of everyone here to cherish you, to honour and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall tear us apart”

It was now her turn to wipe the tears that fell from his bright blue eyes.

“Rings please” Nat and Steve stepped forward handing the rings over “James repeat after me- With this ring I, James, take you, Y/n, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

Repeating the words, making sure his voice was strong so she knew he was as serious as he has ever been, he slips the ring on to her finger.

“Y/n repeat after me- With this ring I, Y/n, take you, James, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

She too repeats the words, she puts the ring on his finger.

“Y/n and James, you have come here today before us and before God and have expressed your desire to become husband and wife. You have shown your love and affection by joining hands, and have made promises of faith and devotion, each to the other, and the receiving of the rings. Therefore, it is my privilege as a minister and by the authority given to me by the State of New York, I now pronounce that you are husband and wife. James, you may kiss your wife”

The whole church erupted in cheers as Bucky took Y/n’s face in both hands and kissed her passionately.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to introduce to you for the first time Mr and Mrs Barnes”

Their first dance as man and wife was to Unchained Melody, as they danced on the dance floor Y/n noticed the way her dad was looking at her mom, and how George looked at Winnie. The same way Bucky looked at her. Full of love. Nothing more, nothing less.

Y/n caught her momma’s eyes and nodded.

Winnie stood and helped Maria stand. Howard shooting straight up as her legs were lightly wobbly. Before he could ask what was going on Y/n spoke “Instead of doing the traditional father and daughter dance, I would like my father and mother to dance alongside me and Ducky, the same for Winnie and George”

As the music continued both sets of parents danced on either side of their children. Bucky couldn’t stop looking at his wife, his heart soaring at being able to call her that now, his trousers tenting too. Don’t judge him.

As the night draw close, Bucky and Y/n thanked everyone for coming and took their leave back to the hotel that Bucky had gotten dressed, celebrating on their own. As husband and wife.

The next morning they were off on their honeymoon. Greece.

Six weeks after being married and four weeks after coming back from their honeymoon Y/n sat on the toilet checking her watch every few minutes, the white pregnancy test seemed to have grown eyes as it was staring back at her. Bucky sat on the side of the bath, his knee bouncing, checking his own watch.

“Baby it’s time”

“You check I’m too scared”

A noise between a laugh and a sob made it way out of Bucky’s mouth as the positive sign was there.

“What? What does it say?”

“Positive. Bunny your pregnant!”

Standing up and taking the test from his hands not really believing him, Bucky got down on his knees his hands going straight to her stomach, lifting her shirt up he kissed the flat surface.

“Ducky…we-we’re going to be parents”

“We are my love”

The bathroom filled with laughter mixed with cries.

And then the phone rang.

Arriving at her parents’ home as fast as they could, Pepper greeted them. “In their bedroom” is all she said.

Running up the stairs Bucky tried to get her to slow down without blurting out the reason but it was no use. She needed to see her momma.

“Momma-I’m-I’m here”

“Oh my sweet girl” Maria croaked out, looking weak and so small in the double size bed. Her hair long gone, skin wrapping it’s self tightly around her skeleton. Though she didn’t look like herself but a shell of what she once was, Y/n thought her momma was still as beautiful as she was the day they had first met. “I’m so pr-proud of you, y-you know that don’t you?”

“I know m-momma”

“Oh b-baby plea-please don’t cry, I’m always go-going to be with you. Always.” Taking her daughters hand in her frail one Maria knew it wasn’t long until she left her husband and children behind to head up to the pearly white gates in the sky.

With her family around her, she was happy. Her eyes scanned the room, her husband on her right holding her hand, her only son who she was so unbelievably proud of everything he achieved in his life sitting on the chair close to his father, Pepper who she was proud to call her daughter-in-law standing behind Tony. George standing against the wall, the man gave her the life she had from the moment he introduced her to Howard. Winnie-her dearest and longest friend tucked in George’s side. Bucky who she help deliver when he decided that he had been in the womb for long enough, the one she was proud to call her son-in-law even in the short period that he had been married to her daughter, standing by his parents.

And her pride and joy, Y/n. Though she wasn’t biologically hers yet she never treated her any different to Tony, no never. Maria’s love for her daughter was pure and real, she always wanted a daughter and she knew she could leave this world happily knowing she had the sweetest, kindest people to call her daughter.

“Momma, I ne-need to tell you something”

“Wha-what is it sweetie?” Y/n leaned in so she could whisper to her the news. That she was going to be a grandma again.

“Oh swe-sweetie th-that is amazing” gesturing for Y/n to come closer so she could whisper in her ears. “Make sure they know that I love them e-even t-though I wo-won’t meet them”

“I w-w-will momma. Promise”

Thirty minutes later hand in hand with her husband and daughter, surrounded by her loved ones Maria closed her eyes and took her last breath with the only regret being that she wasn’t strong enough to meet her unborn grandbaby.

Two weeks later it was time to say goodbye properly by burying Maria, Howard couldn’t find it in himself to stand long enough to do the eulogy. Tony couldn’t find the words to do it so Y/n told them that if it was okay with them she would.

Now standing there in a church packed full of family, friends and strangers she started to regret saying she would do it. But she couldn’t fail her momma, not today.

“As many as you know I’m- I was adopted when I turned eight by my parents. I was brought into their home, their lives, I was accepted and loved by them. I never once felt out of place growing up or felt alone, I never felt like I was different because they always made sure I knew I was truly loved. My momma was always there for me when I needed her, she was the best person to go to for help and advice. She was the best mom ever and I was truly blessed to have her as mine. There’s no doubt in my mind that my momma will be with my mama and be talking her ear off” she stops as everyone chuckles. “Maria Stark was the one of the best women I have ever met, she didn’t care about your past, whether you was rich or poor, as long as you was kind-a good person she was happy to talk to you. She helped anyone who needed to be helped. She saw good in those damaged and I’m the perfect example of that.”

“My momma wouldn’t have wanted people to cry at her funeral so please don’t, dry your tears and smile. Smile at the memories of her, smile at remembering how she was, smile when your think of the name Maria Stark and all the good that comes with the name. Maria Stark was an incredible, strong, beautiful woman, please don’t ever forget her. On behalf of my father and brother I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming here today to celebrate the life of a wife, mother and friend, thank you”

Y/n steps down from the podium, her hands shook as she moved towards Bucky who stood up and took her hand in his. “I’m so proud of you baby” he whispered into her ear.

As her momma was placed into her final resting place and the flowers started to overflow Y/n stood back and let everyone say their final goodbyes first. As everyone moved away and started to go back to their cars all that was left was Howard, Tony, Bucky’s parents, Bucky and Y/n.

Y/n looked to her right, her breath hitching caused Bucky too look over at her. Following with his eyes at what she was staring at he released a stuttering breath.

Howard caught onto what Y/n had saw, putting his rose on top on the pile of flowers and saying his goodbyes to his wife, his only love, he moved over to his daughter. Kissing her forehead, he squeezed his eyes shut before whispering.

“Your momma wanted to be buried next to the woman who gave her, her daughter”

<Previous   Next>

A/N: I wrote Maria’s death whilst listening to For Whom The Bell Tolls by Bee Gees…and I had to stop three times because I was ugly crying.

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1 @sibsteria @spencerreidisagorgman @sapphirebarnes @bruher @hawkinsavclub1983 @onlyonetifosi @parisadams @unabashedstarlightcrown @nash-dara @allofffmypeaches @loki-laufeyson68 @behindmygreyeyes @missvelvetsstuff @pigeonmama @lizslibrary @gloriouspurpose01 @gaya-is-weird-af

[megpricephotography]

Flynn's become such a good, helpful boy! **Long read beneath the cut & Trigger Warning for cancer, choking, health problems... but Flynn himself is totally, 100% fine (just being helpful!) & I am OK too, nothing graphic!**

I don't talk about health on here but I had an aggressive cancer when I was younger - a few years before I got Flynn. My old lad Barney helped me through diagnosis & treatment, he was a star, bless him. Thankfully I've now been in remission a long time but do have long term side-effects. I had to relearn how to drink/eat & speak & it all remains rather hard to this day. One problem I have - especially when tired (& I am often tired!) - is that I am much more prone to choking now. Usually, so long as I don't panic, I can sort myself out very quickly & it's more emotionally distressing, than a serious danger to my life but every now & again, I do have a genuinely alarming moment, when it's worse than normal & I don't know if I might need immediate outside help. Flynn has gradually picked up on the fact that I am prone to choking while eating. He's also learned to recognise certain foods, which are more likely to cause me problems. Plus, he's worked out that he can summon assistance to me, by barking his head off if I seem to be struggling.

When I am eating food I'm usually OK with, Flynn goes to his bed & ignores me, unless there's a problem. However, whenever I sit down with a type food which he knows I find trickier to manage, Flynn has taken to standing in front of me the entire time I am eating (& I am soooo slow!) & watching me very intensely. He's not begging & he does not move from his spot, or take his gaze off me, until I make it clear I'm done.

Being under Flynn's hard-eyed stare while I am trying to eat a meal, is mildly unnerving but undeniably helpful. The thing is, despite this not being a new problem anymore… I did spend my 1st two decades of my life eating normally, so when I am tired &/or hungry, it's easy to stop taking so much care about what I'm doing - & that's when I run into problems… However, when I've got a border collie standing right there, "supervising", with an expression on his face that is similar to a particularly stern nurse, making sure their patient takes the correct medication, I find it's much easier to remain alert, remember I still need to pay attention to what I'm doing & to slow down - even more than usual... Having Flynn there regularly prevents issues even starting.

Of course, I do sometimes still start to choke & Flynn's got amazingly good at recognising when I am having difficulties & he's so fast to respond. He immediately turns his back to me, in order to watch the doorway & begins doing a very distinctive, agitated, loud, repetitive bark. He will not stop, until the relative who we live with appears to check on me. (Interestingly, when we're home alone, Flynn still takes up his vigil while I eat but he generally won't bark, or is slower to start woofing, if I run into problems). Thankfully the vast majority of the time, I am fine within a few worrying seconds but obviously, it's reassuring having someone nearby, just in case. This behaviour is just something Flynn began doing by himself…. We've slowly begun offering rewards for it though, because it's obviously, it's a nifty trick!! A very Good Boy!!

[talktonytome]

Sarah saw this first, but since we’re sharing bucktommy mpreg thoughts, here’s an angsty one:

Pregnant Tommy who raises their daughter alone for the first few years. He was gonna tell Evan when he first found out, but when he finally mustered up the courage and went over to his place, he saw him with someone else, so he decides to walk away. He can do this alone, like he has all his life. When she’s 4/5, she gets diagnosed with juvenile leukemia and now, Tommy’s forced to reach out to Evan because he could save her, and he has to tell him about a daughter he didn’t even know existed. Evan’s furious with Tommy at first, but loves their daughter instantly. Over tests and hospital visits, they reconnect, they relearn each other, Evan gets to know their daughter and they feel like a family. He does end up saving her and they both decide to stay and make it this time.

[rechererdureveperdu]

Just... Sam's video today has made me cry a lot. Especially the end.

I am glad he is on the road to recovery, and that he decided to use his platform to encourage others to get vaccinated. It's gut wrenching to see the end of the video when he starts crying. Whenever Sam cries, you know it's going to hurt.

[calinaannehart]

time is shortening (down to the bone)

Four months after the breakup Buck gets a text message from Lucy.

He’s just woken up after a 24-hour shift, the haze of sleep still clouding him when his phone chimes. He doesn’t read it straight away, a habit he’s gotten into to stop him from rushing to see if Tommy had finally texted him.

Buck has spent hours at a time staring at his phone screen and his and Tommy’s message history. Occasionally, the white bubble would bounce, the three dots telling him that Tommy was typing something out and Buck’s heart rate would spike, nerves and anticipation clogging his throat as he waited, and waited, and waited until the bubble would vanish altogether.

Tommy never messaged. But it told Buck that the man was still thinking about him, that had to mean something, right?

He’s called Tommy a handful of times, giving in to the deep-down urge to hear the man’s voice again, usually in the middle of the night when he’s been wallowing in the bottom of a liquor bottle. The ones that he didn’t end before the call connected had gone unanswered just the same as every call and text in the first few weeks following the break-up.

All he’d wanted was to talk to Tommy, try and make some sense out of what had happened for things to have derailed in the blink of an eye. One minute they’d been celebrating their sixth month anniversary, Buck looking forward to another six months with Tommy by his side, and the next Tommy had been calling him Buck and walking out of his life.

Now they’d been apart almost as long as they’d been together.

A box of Tommy’s things, his toothbrush, a spare phone charger, a harbor hoodie that Buck had claimed as his, the fluffy socks Tommy wore when his feet got cold which Buck found so fucking sweet and endearing it made his teeth hurt, still sat by the door waiting to be collected. Eddie and Chim have both offered to drop it off at Tommy’s but Buck shrugged them off.

If he’s being honest with himself he just couldn’t let them go.

It wasn’t just him who Tommy has been ghosting, Bobby, Hen, and Chim, they’ve all tried reaching out to no avail. Eddie is the only one who’s had any success, a couple of messages in the early days asking Eddie to keep an eye on Buck, and an odd one now and then replying to Eddie’s attempts to get him to meet for a pick-up game or sparing session.

“He always says he’s working,” Eddie had told him with a shrug. “I guess he’s just picking up some extra shifts to keep himself busy.”

They never see him on calls, however, not on the 217 truck or on the chopper when they’re joined by air ops, and Lucy just shrugs when anyone asks saying he’s off that day.

Buck’s starting to think Tommy’s either avoiding the 118 or he’s taken a transfer altogether.

He chews on the inside of his cheek, staring at his phone while he waits for his coffee to brew. The screen lights up again, another text coming in with a chime before falling dark again and Buck figures he’s delayed it long enough.

There’s still a spark of hope as he taps the screen to wake it, but it extinguishes in a flash when it’s Lucy’s contact that’s revealed instead.

If you have any plans today cancel them.

I know you’re off shift today so you have no excuse.

Answer your damn texts Buckley!

I’m not in the mood Lucy.

I don’t care. Clear your schedule for today.

Why?

I need you to go somewhere.

Again, why?

Just do it Buckley. Call it a favor.

How do I know there’s not gonna be a man with an axe waiting to try and murder me?

If that happens I’m haunting you for the rest of your life.

No axe. Scout’s honour.

Fine. Where?

Presbyterian.

Buck hits the call button. Thankfully, Lucy answers after the first ring. “Why are you sending me to the hospital?” He asks. “What’s…wait, are you hurt? Did something happen on a call?”

Lucy doesn’t answer straight away. “Nothing happened on a call.” She says eventually in her usual evasive and unhelpful way.

“Are you sick?”

“I’m not sick.”

The inflection to her words, whether intentional or subconscious tells Buck what he needs to know. “But someone is?”

Lucy sighs again but doesn’t offer any further explanation. “Third floor. Preferably before two this afternoon.”

“But who—”

“Please, Buck?” The desperation in her voice is enough to sway him. Lucy never sounds desperate.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go. Who am I—”

“Thanks, Buckley. Third floor. Before two.” She repeats then hangs up.

Stepping out of the elevator Buck blinks when he realizes he’s on the oncology floor. He looks around, mind reeling with who could possibly be getting treatment on this floor out of every possible department. It can’t be one of the 118, he would know.

He texts Lucy, asking who he’s there to see, and she leaves him on read. She ignores his call, too.

“Hey, excuse me,” Buck says to the nurse behind the desk. “Um, I’m not sure who I’m—”

The words die in his throat as his eyes land on a familiar form in a large wingback chair, the leg rest raised so he’s reclined with his head tipped back and eyes closed. He’s thinner than he was when Buck last saw him, deep shadows sit under his eyes and his hair, patchy in places, has been shaved short. There’s a port-a-cath in his upper arm and hanging on the drip stand above is a bag of fluid, the bright red chemotherapy label visible even at this distance.

“Sir?” The nurse says, but Buck can’t look away from the man.

“Tommy.”

Read on AO3

If you like please reblog!

[why-i-love-comics]

Uncanny X-Men #1 - "Red Wave" (2024)

written by Gail Simone art by David Marquez & Matthew Wilson

[bunnithechubs]

spoiler alert: his surgery went fine!!