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helen-with-an-a · 19 days

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Short but Mighty

Hi. So this is a request I got and I absolutely loved writing it. It's a little on the long side but I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, just imagine no one is injured in either team and it’s Arsenal not Chelsea against Barca in the UWCL this year. Another side note is that I am 5’6/5’7 so I don’t really have much of a frame of reference for being short/shorter but I hope I’ve done it justice 🩷

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Description: R is short and a little angry

Word Count: 4.8k

“She’s so angry because her attitude has been compressed into that small body”

“Have you ever noticed that in every friend group, the shortest one is usually the craziest?”

“Short girls are mean because they are closer to hell”

“If you think she’s short, you should see her patience”

“The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit”

“Like a chihuahua”

“And though she be but little, she is fierce”

You had heard it all. Even Shakespeare had commented on it. Every comment about short and angry people ever made – you had heard it all. But the thing was, you weren’t short. You were 5 foot 3 inches. 160cm. The average height for women in the UK – you would know; you googled it to make sure. But for some reason, every person on your team was a bloody giant – towering over you, making you look even shorter. Except for Aitana – she was the only one who truly understood your pain.

At first, it bothered you. Growing up, you were constantly being leant on by your friends or patted on the head; your coaches affectionately called you ‘short stuff’. It really, really pissed you off. You saw players on the field consider you a joke of an opponent as you stepped onto the field. So, you started to build muscle, lifting heavier, adjusting your diet, and altering your lifestyle as much as possible while remaining healthy. When you made your senior debut at just 17, you could lift well over 1.5 of your body weight. You also channelled that muscle into your speed, earning a reputation for being the fastest on the pitch. On paper, a defending midfielder of your height was laughable, but when the challengers on the pitch saw your name in the Starting XI, they would quake with fear.

Despite all the comments, they were right about your supposed anger. You don’t know whether it was you being unafraid to utilise your body on the pitch or something else entirely, but you were frequently topping the table with the number of yellow cards at the end of the season. Personally, you believed the refs had a vendetta against you; your reputation preceded you, so they felt it was necessary to uphold it – often giving you cards for something that would have been just a caution for anything else. You did pride yourself on never receiving a straight red (only double-yellows) – something that Lucy frequently reminded you; it wasn’t that impressive as many people didn’t receive straight reds. You weren’t an aggressive player by any means. As soon as that whistle went, you were the first to offer a helping hand. You had never injured anyone – ever. That was something else you were proud of. Whilst you often got yellows for the tackle, you never left any lasting marks. Were you physical? Yes. Were you aggressive? No.

It was the only thing people had spoken about in weeks. Arsenal vs. Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final. Walsh vs. Williamson; Russo, Lacasse and Blackstenius vs. Leon, Bronze and Batlle; Little vs. Putellas; Codina vs her old club; Paralluelo, Pina and Caldentey vs Wubben-Moy, Catley and Fox; Y/S/N vs. McCabe. That was the big one – two of the most carded players in their leagues battling it out for a chance to snatch the other’s chance of a Champions League title. Alexia had been pestering you since the draw was made about your behaviour. She wouldn’t hesitate to bench you if you were acting out. Her tactics were based on negative reinforcement. It hadn’t worked – all her threats, lectures, and pressures were rendered null because you knew how physical these matches would be. You knew Jona would put on the most physical players, at least to start with.

Lucy, on the other hand, relied on positive reinforcement. As your girlfriend, she was always in your corner, especially on the pitch when a card was lifted above your head. But she didn’t like how often you were suspended or how often your abilities were outshone by the number of yellows next to your name. Your technical prowess was often overlooked by commentators and fans because of the cards.

“You know,” Lucy started, her fingertips brushing your neck as she pulled your hair out of her way. You were standing at the kitchen counter, looking at a recipe on your phone as you planned out your tea.

“What do I know, gorgeous?” you teased, tilting your head up to look at her. Your hands came to rest on top of hers on your waist.

“I think we should set up a sticker chart system or something. What do you think?” She mused, starting an assault on your neck.

“N-no marks, my love,” you stuttered out automatically but leaning back into her body anyway.

“I know.” You could feel the grin against your skin. “But you didn’t answer my question, lovely.” She nipped at your earlobe gently.

“Stickers … what for?” You turned around in her arms, coming to look at her. She didn’t stop her attack, her strong hands coming to angle your head so she had more access to your jaw. You let your eyes slip closed, getting lost in the feeling of her mouth on you.

“As a way to … combat?... your little card problem.” That sobered you right up. You pushed her way and raised an unamused eyebrow at her.

“My card problem?” You snarked.

“Alexia has been on my arse about getting you to … calm down … during matches,” she explained, choosing her words carefully. She moved to put her hands back on your hips, but you stopped her with a hand on her chest.

“So, you went with a sticker chart?” you asked incredulously. “I’m not a child, Lucy.” You never called her Lucy unless you were angry at her; she was always ‘gorgeous’ or ‘my love’, just like you were always ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty girl’ to her.

“I know you’re not, pretty girl.” She cupped your face with her hand. “I think I phrased myself badly. I’m sorry.” Her thumb moved methodically against your cheek, an action that has always calmed you. “How about a little reward system?” She grinned cheekily at you as you narrowed your eyes. “For every match without a card, I’ll treat you?” She proposed.

“I don’t need a-” you started, still annoyed that your girlfriend and your captain felt it necessary to set up a system to manage your behaviour.

“Alexia has been on my arse about this for weeks. She’s serious about benching you, lovely.” She interrupted. You sighed. You were well aware of what Alexia considered unacceptable in the Barca team – and the number of yellow cards you received was one of them. “So, what do you think? I think it’s a win-win situation if you ask me. Alexia will finally back off and not be a minute away from a heart attack, and you get …” she paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it. “Whatever your heart desires.” You could see her reasoning. Judging by the vein in Alexia’s forehead, she wasn’t coping too well with the idea that you would face McCabe in a few weeks. And you get weekly treats if you avoid yellow cards.

“Whatever I want?” You double-checked. Lucy could see you were already agreeing to her idea.

“Whatever. You. Want. Pretty girl.” She punctuated each word with a kiss.

“So, if I wanted a fancy date night at that place in town?” Lucy wasn’t the biggest fan of dates where you had to dress up all fancy – she thought it wasn’t an accurate and complete representation of your relationship. She loved taking you to smaller, more casual restaurants where you could relax, order something to-go, or just cook a nicer meal at home. But Mapi had shown you a place she was planning to take Ingrid for their anniversary, and you had fallen in love – begging Lucy to go on a date there with you. What you didn’t know she was saving it for when she proposed – the ring hidden with her Euro medal buried in the depths of the cupboard in your spare room.

“Whatever you want.” She smiled at your shocked expression.

“Or if I wanted a spa day at home on our day off?” you asked, checking how far she would be willing to go. She would much rather do something on your day off to keep her body moving a little, whereas you would rather lounge on the couch, catching up on your show.

“Whatever you want.” She repeated, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Or…” you tried to think of something she would say no to. “If I asked you to put on my old United jersey? And take a photo in it? And post it on social media?” Your request was ridiculous, but you knew it was something she would never, ever say no to. You had played for United while she was at City, moving to Lyon together, where your relationship had budded into what it is now, before returning to your respective clubs. You were friends before Lyon, having played with each other on the England squad for years, but moving to the new city together had led to something magical. The rival was a constant joke between you, often tuning in to the Derby’s when your schedule allowed for it – her and Keira on one couch, you and Ona on the other – all clad in your particular colours and fighting for the right to brag.

“Whatever you want.” She sighed but loved the fact that it brought that big, wide grin of yours to your face.

“What about if I asked for control?” You wiggled your eyebrow and scanned her body appreciatively, indicating precisely what you hinted at. You could see her eyes flicker slightly, making you think you had found the thing she wouldn’t do as your reward. Lucy loved being in control, and you didn’t mind letting her do it. But occasionally, very, very occasionally, she handed over the ropes (figuratively and literally) to you.

“What. Ever. You. Want,” she said lowly, silencing any more of your questions with a passionate kiss.

This was it. The big day. The first leg of the Champions League semi-final. Arsenal vs. Barcelona. McCabe vs. Y/S/N. You had been good to your word – the reward system was working well. So far, Lucy had treated you to a day at the beach, a nice meal, a new set of lingerie, and a day trip with you to Tarragona on a day off. Four treats for your four matches without a yellow. It would have been more, but you picked up a yellow card during your match with Real Madrid. But this … this was your big test.

“Todas mantienen la cabeza,” Alexia said just before you all left the changing rooms. She said it to everyone, but you know it was aimed at you.

“What do you want your reward to be, pretty girl?” Lucy asked you as you performed your final pre-match ritual (a quick roll of deodorant, a pump of breath spray, and a spritz of perfume—you’re welcome, everyone on the field).

“Not sure, I’ve got an idea, but I might wait for the final for that one,” you winked cheekily at her, giving her an indication of what you were insinuating. She sighed, shaking her head at you.

“Later,” she promised as she guided you into the tunnel.

This match was not going to plan for you. Ona and Pina had already picked up yellows for dissent, and you were only 30 minutes into the match. You were on your best behaviour – even going so far as not to tackle Katie when you would usually have. You could see how much less stress Lucy was under with every game you played where you didn’t have your name on the card list. You weren’t behaving for yourself – you couldn’t care less if you were benched (slight exaggeration, but the sentiment remained). You were doing it for Lucy; her frown lines were easing somewhat; her muscles were less tense; she was sleeping much better. You hadn’t realised your actions added much to her plate.

And then Katie left a studs-up tackle on Lucy and didn’t get carded or even a foul. You were near her when it happened. Lucy was running down the wing with the ball at her feet, you were dropping back a little, allowing her the space to make a cross to an awaiting Patri and Aitana. Katie’s yellow boots appeared from nowhere and clipped her ankles – not even making an attempt to get the ball. It was an obvious card, yet the ref motioned to carry on whilst Lucy was on her knees, clutching at her ankle, her eyes scrunched shut at the pain.

Eventually, the whistle was blown when it was apparent that Lucy wasn’t standing up. You crouched at her side, a hand coming to rub at her back.

“Do you need the medics, my love?” You asked, the tone gentle in comparison to the fury you were filled with.

“Just … gimme a minute,” she gasped. You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your hand resting on her lower back in silent support.

“Estás bien? Está ella bien? Necesitamos a los fisios?” Alexia gushed as she came to your side, a concerned Patri and Marta joining her.

“Ella esta bien,” you said, your words supported by Lucy’s actions as she moved to stand up. You briefly scanned her, nodding to yourself as you confirmed she was fine.

The switch in you was instant. McCabe needed to pay for that. And if the ref wasn’t going to do it, you would.

“Don’t,” Lucy said at the same time as Alexia uttered “no”. You just waved them off, smiling innocently at them as you set up for the corner kick.

The incident that got you the card was well deserved. You had only 2 minutes left of the half – not including injury time – and Katie was starting a last-minute Arsenal press. You were winning comfortably at 3 – 0, but you knew Arsenal would come out hard in the next half; they weren’t called ‘second halfsenal’ for nothing. Could you have gone for a clean tackle? Probably. Could you have just tackled her in general? Yes. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as watching her fly to the ground. She ran full speed down the wing, not looking where her defenders were. You timed your run well, bracing your body as she slammed into you. You had bothered to stick out your leg to make it look like you were aiming for the ball, but everyone, on and off the pitch, knew you were going for revenge. She clattered to the ground in a pile of red and white, and a torrent of Irish-accented swears erupted from her.

You were immediately faced with an angry Aussie. Caitlin shoved your shoulders as she demanded retribution for you. You lifted your hands innocently.

“I was going for the ball,” you said, shrugging a little. You could see the referee approaching, Alexia looking furious at you, and Lucy shaking her head. Still, you could see her smiling – finding the situation at least somewhat amusing. “I was going for the ball,” you repeated to the ref, ignoring the shouts from the Arsenal girls. “See, she’s fine.” You gestured to a now-standing McCabe. It didn’t help your case; the yellow square was lifted above your head as you rolled your eyes.

“Fucking short-arse bitch” you heard McCabe mutter as you all walked away, ready to finish this half.

“And yet, I still put you on the ground,” you smirked at her, letting Lucy drag you away.

Halftime was full of Alexia's lecture. You looked to Jona to see if he would intervene, but he just shrugged. When he saw Lucy go down from a dodgy tackle, he expected nothing less from you.

“Prometiste que te portarías lo mejor posible.”

“She’s still walking, isn’t she?” You weren’t about to apologise for this. This was your style of play; she knew that when you joined the team; Barca knew it when they signed you.

“Qué dije de los amarillos? Te pedí que no los consiguieras. Y que haces?” She continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “Necesitas empezar a actuar de forma más adulta al respecto. No necesitas ser cardada por todo. Recibir tarjetas todo el tiempo es muy inmaduro. No tienes respeto”

“Enough, Alexia.” You interrupted. Yes, she had somewhat of a right to be angry at you, but calling you immature? Saying you had no respect? “I play my style of play. If the club didn’t like it, they wouldn’t have renewed my contract or signed me in the first place. If Jona has a problem with it, he would either speak to me or not play me. But they haven’t. I have renewed with Barca and Jona hasn’t even mentioned it in our one-to-ones. You are the only one who’s up my arse about this. And you’ve been pestering Lucy, too. Newsflash, she’s not my keeper, Alexia, and I am not a child; she’s my girlfriend.” You could see she was trying to interrupt you again, but you pushed through. “If you had maybe spoken to me in a way that suggested you valued me as a player and a person rather than lecturing me every chance you get, we could be in a different situation right now. But no, you have insulted me and the way I play my football, and now you have made me even more pissed off than I already was. So please, leave me alone at the moment.” You were seething. You hadn’t meant to explode at her like you did, but she had hurt your feelings one too many times about a bloody yellow card. You looked around the changing room, seeing the shocked expressions on people’s faces. No one spoke to their captain like that. You didn’t dare glance at Lucy, too afraid of what you might see. You would have seen the proud expression gracing her face if you had. She had been waiting for you to detonate at Alexia; she could see it in the way you grit your teeth during every lecture, the way you took longer showers after training to destress every time Alexia had called you away to talk about your behaviour, the way you were baking more and more as a method to try to quell your anger.

You pushed your way past, banging the door heavily as you stormed back out of the tunnel. You knew the Emirates well, so there were no chances of you getting lost. A few doors down, there was a seldom-used bathroom you could hide in, but you could still hear the chatter that told you the team was in the tunnel, ready to start the second half.

The changing room was silent. You could hear a mouse sneeze if you listened carefully enough.

“Bien entonces,” it was Mapi who spoke – breaking the tension-filled silence.

“Quién se cree que ella es? Todo lo que he estado tratando de hacer es ayudarla a limpiar su juego.” Alexia was incredulous. She believed you needed to clean up your act if you were going to go far at Barca. She didn’t consider the fact that you had numerous accolades to your name, coming second in the Ballon d’Or for the past 3 years and earning yourself a Sports Personality of the Year twice.

“No, Alexia. You are in the wrong.” Lucy snapped. She couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. Yes, she wanted you to stop getting yellow cards, but not at the expense of your style of play. She wanted the cards to stop being the only thing commentators spoke about when your name was mentioned. She wanted the world to see you as she did. “I know you meant well, but you basically asked her to stop playing in the way that makes her so unique. Imagine if someone did that to you, you’d be pretty pissed off too.” Alexia frowned. That wasn’t what she had meant – not at all. She wanted you to stop getting the yellow cards because she viewed something to be feared, not something that was just a part of playing football.

“Y ahora te has ido y la has hecho aún más enojada,” Patri laughed humourlessly. “No se sorprendan si hoy vemos un rojo, chicas,” she added as the team made their way back to the pitch.

You slipped silently out of the bathroom, joining the rest of the team as if you were just the last one to leave the changing room.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Lucy said, extending her hand to you as she lingered just out of sight of the cameras.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You squeezed her hand, letting her know you were ok.

“Please, try not to get a red,” she joked.

“If McCabe behaves, so will I,” you said seriously. She smirked at you – just the sort of thing she was expecting from you.

McCabe did not behave. It was remarkable how calm you had been, considering how riled you were during the half-time break. You had spent a lot of this second half on the floor, being a victim of harsh tackles from McCabe herself and a particular Aussie. You could see your English teammates wincing every time you went down. But you always gave as good as you got, leaving unforgiving shoves and exacting tackles just on the right side of nasty.

It was in the 55th minute when the second incident occurred. You were genuinely going for the ball. You both jumped up for a header – you might have jumped more sideways than up, but that was neither here nor there. The slight knock you gave her made her lose her balance, landing hard on her hands and knees rather than her feet. It didn’t help that you landed perfectly upright, either. You knew how much running into you could hurt – particularly if you braced yourself (which you had been); she had been jogging backwards, unaware of your presence behind her.

“Oh, my god. I am so sorry. Are you ok?” You were genuine this time; both your national and club teammates could see it. This time, Leah was the first one to you, pulling you away by your shoulder.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” She asked, shocked by your display of aggression.

“I’m sorry, Lee. That was a complete accident.” You looked down at McCabe rolling around on the floor, gripping at her ankle. She just sighed in response. Lucy was the first of your Barca friends to reach you.

“I’m sorry,” you said dejectedly.

“I know you are, lovely” Lucy squeezed your elbow gently. “But you know you’re going to get a card, right?”

“Yeh, I know.” You turned to face the ref, shocked to see Alexia pleading with her and arguing for you. You were unsurprised when her protests were waved away, and you were presented with the yellow and red squares before being shown that you had to leave the pitch. You took it graciously and headed off the pitch.

You were escorted to the changing room by an official but were left to your own devices. You showered quickly before changing into your clothes, grateful you had packed some ‘street clothes’ – just jeans and one of Lucy’s hoodies. As you heard the Emirates erupt with cheers, the idea was planted in your head. This was a Champions League semi-final, no way in hell were you missing that. So, you slipped your accreditation around your neck and left the changing room. The crowd were still celebrating the Arsenal goal as you emerged from the tunnel. You saw Jonas spot you, his eyes widening as he gestured to the Fourth Official. You nodded once and waved at Jona and the other Barca coaches before hopping over the barricade. You spotted a woman with a young girl sitting on her lap with a free seat next to her.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the seat. The woman shook her head and laughed a little as you made yourself comfortable next to her. The little girl was staring at you wide-eyed. She was wearing a little Barca jersey with her hair in two plaits, looking the epitome of cute.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, extending your hand to her. “What’s your name?” After a second of cajoling from her mother, she piped up.

“Lucie. But with an -ie not a -y.”

“Well, Lucie with an -ie not a -y, that is a very good name.” You smiled and turned back to the pitch, watching the game resume. You could tell the cameras were on you; you could see Ingrid shaking her head from the bench every time your face was displayed on the big screen.

The rest of the match was uneventful. Barca scored another two goals, bringing the final score to 5 – 1.

“So, Lucie with an -ie. Whose number’s on the back?” You nodded to her shirt.

“Lucy Bronze,” she cheered. “She’s my favourite. And we have the same name, but we spell it differently.” Lucie said with all the seriousness of a 6-year-old with something essential to tell you.

“Can I let you into a secret?” You leant down to whisper to her conspiratorially. She nodded enthusiastically. “She’s my favourite too.” Lucie looked up wide-eyed at you. “Do you want me to try and get you her shirt?” You asked. Her eyes grew even wider; you thought her head might pop off with how aggressively she was nodding. “Ok, wait here, ok. I’ll be right back.” You smiled as you hopped the barrier again, making your way onto the pitch and headed straight to Lucy. She was standing with Keira and Leah, clearly having a bit of a catch-up.

“Hello, trouble.” Keira teased as you appeared.

“Yeh, yeh.” You lightly shoved her head. “Can I have your shirt, my love?” You asked Lucy. She cocked her head at your request. “I think I might have found your biggest fan.” You smiled as you started to take your jumper off, grateful that you had put a shirt on underneath for once. Lucy laughed as she whipped off her top, thanking you as she slipped the hoodie on to keep her covered. You hugged Leah quickly before dragging Lucy away to find your new friend.

“Alexia wants to talk to you, pretty girl,” Lucy said as you pulled her back to the stands.

“Later,” you sighed, not really in the mood for anything Alexia had to say. “I want you to meet my new friend first.” You looked at her with a wide smile as you came to a stop in front of Lucie.

“Lucie with an -ie meet Lucy with a -y. Luce, this is my new friend, Lucie.” You did the unnecessary introductions.

“Hi,” Lucy grinned at the young girl. You handed the jersey off to her mum as you left them alone for a little bit, moving to interact with some of the other fans.

A little while later, familiar strong arms wrapped around your waist, distracting you from your conversation with Alessia and Lotte.

“Nosotras tenemos que ir, lovely” Lucy whispered, kissing your shoulder lightly.

“We get it; you speak Spanish.” Alessia teased, waving goodbye to you as you sent them both a kiss.

“Vamos,” you joked as you leant back into Lucy. Although your position made it a little awkward to walk, you were too comfortable to move.

“What reward do you want this week?” Lucy whispered in your ear as you entered the tunnel.

“Reward? But I got a card, two, in fact. Or did you miss the part where McCabe ran into me twice, and you went down a player?” You looked at her, confused.

“I know, but you were so, so sexy.” She squeezed you not-too-gently. “I’ve got to treat my pretty girl when she looks that good,” she teased, but you knew by the glint in her eyes that she was deadly serious. You hummed.

“I think I might have some ideas,” you mused as you leant back on her subtly, letting your head drop back on her shoulder.

“Good,” she whispered back, littering a series of kisses to your cheek. “My short, sexy defender.” She laughed.

“Oi,” you slapped her arm. “Enough with the short jokes.”

“Never, you get so riled up by them.” She laughed at your angry expression. “And you know exactly what that does to me,” she said lowly in your ear – a lasting promise of later left unspoken in the air.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

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sarawritestories · 2 months

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Unwavering Presence Chapter 6

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Feyre is in the Night Court and Y/N is trying to overcome the lingering guilt she feels as Cassian leaves for a week. Tensions between the Archeron twins comes to a boiling point where Feyre decides that she wants to take part in the court and meet the inner Circle.

Content warnings: Past trauma ,sibling arguments,

A/N: I am blown away by the love you guys have shown this series and I appreciate every comment, like and reblog. It seriously means more than you know! I have so much planned and plotted out for this I hope you guys are ready!

I made a playlist for this series if you're interested in listening while reading these are just songs that help me write/reminds me of Cassian and Reader

Masterlist Chapter 5

I woke up and I was the only one in the chair with a blanket wrapped snugly around me. I turned to see Rhys resting his hand on his head, his eyes closed. I sat up and stretched and when I looked over to the bed I gasped as eyes like my own stared back at me. “Feyre.” I whispered.

Rhys stirred and looked over to us, “Good Morning,” Feyre was about to talk but began coughing and Rhys was quick to produce a glass of water in his hand and pass it to Feyre, “Drink. You’ve been out for a few days.” She nodded to him in thanks and took a long drink from the glass.

She looked over at me and pursed her lips, “You’re alive.” I nodded words lost to me. “How long have you been here?”

I wrung my hands together nervously, ‘Since Tamlin forced me out.” I said through gritted teeth.

Feyre nodded her head as if digesting how long I’ve been here. “You abandoned me.” She whispered and it felt as if my heart shattered. “You just left me alone. Tamlin told me you died!”

I crossed my arms and leaned back into the armchair. “Right because he had been a picture of pleasantries and kindness to me since that day, he fucking took us away.”

Fury shone in my sister’s eyes, “Yet you could have come back, you could have found me. Instead, you left me alone, didn’t even try to let me know you were okay to see if I was okay!” I flinched guilt swirling in my gut.

“You make it sound like I did it on purpose.” I whispered, “Like I wasn’t attacked in the woods compliments of your priestess pal who left me to die.” Feyre’s eyes widened as I rose from my chair. “Tamlin sent a very clear message of his disdain for me.” I walked to the door ignoring Rhys’ attempt to speak to me in my mind. I opened the door and looked back at her; tears were streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, I failed you a second time, Feyre.” Out of the corner of my eyes I saw sadness flash in Rhys’ face, and I shut the door and walked away.

My feet led me to the dining hall my ears ringing, I didn’t even register where I was until a familiar voice called to me, “Y/N?” I looked up to see Cassian walking in from the balcony, he was wearing his leathers, his siphons gleaming on display.

I swallowed the tightness in my throat, and tried to give him a smile, “Going somewhere?”

Cassian’s brows furrowed concern laced on his features, but he nodded, “I need to go out to the Illyrian camps and make sure my soldiers are up to my standards.”

“And you were going to leave without saying goodbye, Old Man?”

Cassian’s wings twitched as his eyes widened. “Old man?”

I jokingly pressed a palm to my forehead, “Oh I’m sorry, I meant Old Male? Better?”

The General crossed his arms looking at the floor and muttered, “I’d prefer it if Old was dropped all together,” He looked back at me his features softening at me as I grinned back at him. “Do you think I’m old?”

“Cassian, you’re over 500 years old. By human standards you’re ancient. Though I think you’ve just begun your life in terms of the fae so no I don’t think you’re old. However, I will be calling you old just to get under your skin.”

He rolled his eyes, and they go vacant briefly when he comes back to, he walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me. He held me tightly and pressed his hand to the back of my head pressing my cheek against his chest, leather, and sandalwood grounding me, “It’s not your fault, Princess.” He pulls away and cups cheeks.

Avoiding his comment I whispered, “I’ll miss you,” I wrapped my hands around his rubbing small circles with my thumbs.

Cassian pulls my face closer to our breaths intermingling, “I’ll be home as soon as soon as I can,” He pressed his warm soft lips on my forehead and my eyes fluttered shut. Too quickly he pulled away and lowered our hands from my face. I laced my fingers with his and we walked out to the balcony. Cassian flared his wings, the sun highlighting the dark red hues and membrane on his wings. He turned to me and gave me a playful wink “Safe travels, General, wouldn’t want you to hurt your brittle old bones.” He laughed, flicked my nose, and launched into the air.

I leaned on the balcony railing watching him take to the skies in awe and tilted my head when he paused and turned to me, I gave him a smile, knowing he probably couldn’t see me and waved at him. He lifted his hand in response and turned and headed out, I stayed out there until he was out of my line of sight and headed into the dining room. Only to be met with a second pair of Hazel eyes. “So, Cassian’s pretty cute,” He joked throwing the line I said to him a few nights before.

Heat flared in my cheeks, “Busy body.”

Azriel just pointed his thumbs at himself, “Spymaster.”

“So, a professional busybody.” Az laughed clutching his stomach. “I liked it better when you were quiet, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel nudged me with his shoulder, “No you don’t.”

I pat the top of his head and the shadowsinger grumbled, “You’re right, I don’t.” I looked to the doors as if I could see Feyre all the way from here. “Where are you off to?” I asked and Azriel’s face showed no indication of his feelings, but his eyes held a glimpse of sadness there.

His shadows danced around his neck and a few strayed from him and swirled and weaved around my legs. The cool kiss of their touch a great reprieve to my heated skin. “I have the day off I was going to go into the city for a bit to have lunch with Mor. I’d figured I’d see if you want to train?”

“Yes, please, I can’t go back into that room. Not yet anyway.”

Azriel nods his head to the door, “Go get changed we’ll work on wielding weapons.” I smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek and ran to my room to change into my leathers. I braided my hair into a crown and walked to my door. Opening it I was shocked to see Rhys on the other side arm raised to knock. I’m pretty sure Rhys expression matched my own as he lowered his hand tucking it in his pocket. “You, okay?”

I leaned against the door frame, “Truthfully?” He nodded, “No, I’m not. She thinks I ran away and abandoned her. Thanks to Tamlin and Ianthe and their pretty little lies.” I swallowed the tears, “The way she looked at me, Rhys. It hurt.” Rhys sighed and I could see the exhaustion in his features and taking over his body. “When was the last time you slept?”

He waved me off, “Don’t deflect.”

I crossed my arms, “I’m not deflecting. I answered your question, and I am asking a simple question in regards to the wellbeing of my friend.”

Light sparked into his violet eyes, “We’re friends?”

“Now who’s deflecting?” I cup my hand on his cheek, “You need to sleep, Rhys. She’ll be fine, give her some time alone to process everything.”

Rhys placed his hand on top of mine, “You’re a good sister you know that right?”

“There have been many moments where Feyre would disagree with you.” My mind trailed off to Under the Mountain.

I twisted the goblet in my hand, another night another party that Feyre and I are the full spectacle of in matching outfits. If you could call the see through material that barely covered my breast and my ass an outfit. Feyre had swirls that matched her tattoo throughout her whole body and the same markings swirled on my skin. I remained close to my sister when Tamlin approached Feyre. I averted my gaze to give them privacy.

My eyes scanned across the room looking out for Rhysand and before I could look back to my sister and Tamlin was walking away from her. Feyre whispered in my ear, “Cover for me, Tamlin wants to meet with me for a moment.”

Relief washed over my chest, “Is he going to get you out?” I whispered so low it in her ear. “Feyre, he has to get you out.” I had her face me so she could understand.

Feyre rolled her eyes, “I’ll be fine.” And before I had the opportunity to argue further, she left. I scowled quietly as I watched her walk away and saw the High Lord of the Spring trail after her.

I glared at the door they went behind, hoping that I could him to get her out. A hand fell on the small of my back causing me to jump and Rhys’ voice was against my ear, “Just me.” He removed his hand, and he looked over to where Feyre and Tamlin ran off to and his jaw tightened. The only indication on his calm demeanor that told me he was upset. “Where is Feyre, Y/N?”

I quirked my brow, “I think we both know, you know exactly where she is, High Lord.” There was a pause, and for whatever reason I asked in a hushed tone, “He isn’t going to get her out, is he?”

“No, he isn’t.” Dread took over. I looked down at the goblet contemplating drinking the fae wine and forget my inhibitions, fueled by the anger and disappointment of not only the blonde haired green eyed high lord and my foolish love-sick sister. “You’ve been avoiding it this long, don’t start because you’re angry. That could lead you down a dark rabbit hole.” He grabs the goblet from my hand and drinks the contents, “Stay close to Lucien.” He hands me the empty cup.

“Where are you going?”

Rhys voice floats in my mind, “To fix this.”

Rhys squeezed my hand bringing me back, “That wasn’t your fault either.” I curse under my breath and rebuild my shields. “Tamlin has made a mess of things time and again. It’s going to catch up with him in the end.”

I nod lowering my hand that he is still gripping, “I should go Azriel is waiting for me to start training.” Rhys nods and moves out of the way, releasing my hand. “Go to sleep, High Lord. You’ll need your strength if you’re going to need with your Feyre Darling.” I heard his chuckle as I left to go find Azriel.

Azriel was in the training ring on the roof his arms crossed, “You’re late.”

I lowered my gaze, “Sorry, I ran into Rhysand.” I met his piercing gaze, “Don’t suppose you’ll go easy on me for it.”

Amusement graced his features, and his lips quirked upward, “Not a chance. Pushups, now.” I groaned, “Keep it up Archeron, and I’m going to double how many you must do. Give me thirty.” The morning sun caused sweat to drip down my brow on the first ten pushups. My arms were already shaking by the twentieth pushup, “I am going to have to kick Cassian’s ass for his lack of core training with you.” I was able to finish the pushups and slowly stood up my arms and legs shaking.

Azriel made his way over to weapons, “You have a preference on weapon?”

I shrugged, “I only had access to a dagger, I don’t know anything else.” I followed him, and looked at the table, there were a few daggers, two longswords and a bow and arrow. The weapon reminded me of Feyre, “I have no interest in archery.” I murmured biting the inside of my cheek as a fresh wave of guilt that washed over me.

Azriel didn’t look over at me and simply said, “Noted.” He grabbed the dagger and handed it to me. “Show me what you can do with this.”

I walked over to the center of the training ring dummy that was on the other side and grabbed the tip of the dagger took in a deep breath as I raised my arm and, on the exhale, threw the dagger as it hit right in the chest of the dummy. I turned to Azriel’s face was unreadable, “What?”

Azriel shook his head, “Just not what I was expecting, you did this when you hunted in the human lands? You ever worried about missing?”

I gave him a wink, “I never miss, Shadowsinger.”

He grabbed a dagger from his belt, not as ornate as his other one that he always kept within his reach “Prove it.” So, we spent the rest of the hour throwing the daggers splinters from the wooden dummy everywhere. “I’m impressed, you have quite the arm Y/N. Who taught you how to throw?”

“I taught myself.” Azriel quirked a brow, “My dad was attacked by some creditors. Nesta and Elain remained hidden in our room, Feyre was begging them to stop. After they shattered his leg, I knew I needed to take action. I took a knife one of the few things we were able to keep, and I threw it and one of them collapsed to the floor. I didn’t even understand that I had killed him. Until the other guys looked at me with pure horror on their faces. They fled right after that. But the damage was done my father’s leg was destroyed and 4 sisters carried out a dead body to the forest to be eaten by the creatures that lurked there.”

“Turns out fae and human are more alike than people think at least in their cruelty.” Az said in response, no judgement, no pity, just stating a fact.

“Their kindness too, Az.” He gave a nod, “Would you mind taking me to the town house?”

“You don’t want to stay here? Close to Feyre.” Again, there was no judgement in his tone simply asking a question.

“Not today. Plus, most of my clothes are in the town house anyway and my journal.” I left out the part about Cassian gifting that to me.

“Sure, do you want to go now?” I nodded and he held out his hand which I graciously took my hand, and his shadows consumed us, and we were in front of the town house.

I looked at him, “That’s a neat trick,” A shadow slithers up to her hand and she coos at it, “Is there anything you little guys can’t do.”

Azriel made a face, “They are shadows not, puppies.”

The shadow kisses my cheek and wraps around my hair before slinking back toward its master, “I think they liked it.”

Az groaned, “They did.” I couldn’t contain my laughter. “You going to be, okay?” Rhys was kind of worried about you.” He paused, “Cassian had fought Rhys to stay. He had to pull rank.”

“He shouldn’t have abandoned his duties to help me. He doesn’t even know me very well.” I shrugged.

Azriel smiled, “Cassian has a big heart, when he sees someone is hurting, he will do anything in his power to make them feel better. I do know he enjoys your company and cares about you.”

Heat rose in my cheeks at Azriel’s words. “Well hopefully he doesn’t have to stay wherever he is at for too long. I find that I enjoy his company too.” He smiled, “Have a nice lunch Az. I’ll talk to you later.” He waved and his shadows consumed him, and he was gone. It made my way inside and ran to my room and began writing in my journal pouring out my emotions from the last few days.

A few days had gone by, and Az has continued teaching me how to hone my skills in throwing daggers along with sparring with a long sword. I spent my afternoons writing and despite Rhys’ efforts avoiding my sister. It was about a day and a half before Rhys and her came into the town house, and I just kept to myself. I kept to my room and wrote in my journal the words were flowing through me and I felt this wave of creativity. I wasn’t writing stories but just getting words on paper was a start.

The week’s end approached and there was a knock on my door as I was sitting in my bed reading a book. “Come in.” Rhys stepped in and I gave him a smile, “How is she?”

He gave me a warm smile, “Good, she wants to meet the Inner Circle. Wants to work with us.” I nodded, “So we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Okay. Have fun.” I murmured flipping the page. The book was ripped from my hand and disappeared, “Rhysand!” He walked to my closet and picked up the new gown that Mor insisted I buy weeks ago and dropped it on my bed.

“Get changed, get ready, we’re leaving at the top of the hour.” He crossed his arms and stared at the floor, “She’s been asking about you and you’ve been blocking me out. Just try, okay?” I nodded and he comes up and kisses my forehead, “Good,” he gave my arm a comforting squeeze, “Oh, did I mention, Cassian is home.” My head perked up and he had a knowing smirk on his face. “He was wondering where you were and why you weren’t in the House of Wind.” He flicked my nose, and I swatted his hand. “Get dressed.” And he walked out.

Cassian’s POV

It was an agonizingly long week Devlon was fighting me on every order and had a comeback for every word I said. Knowing that I was going to come home and get to spend some time with Y/N. Leaving her when she looked so devastated and Rhys sharing the argument between the twins in my mind set my blood boiling. I had to remember that Feyre was also hurting but it still didn’t make it alright for making Y/N feel guilty for something Tamlin fucking did.

The days blurred together but then I was on the balcony of the House of Wind and the air felt stale and I looked for anyone. My wings slumped a little bit I was hoping to see Y/N. I felt familiar claws against my shields, and I let them down.

Welcome home brother, Rhys’s voice flooded my brain.

I walked into my room and began to take off my leathers, Thanks, where is everyone?”

Azriel is wandering around the city for something, Mor is coming back from the Court of Nightmares and the twins are in the townhome with me. Everyone is coming out there to the House of Wind for Dinner.

Have the two of them made any headway?

No, they haven’t, Y/N has kept to herself except for training with Azriel. I am about to drag her out for dinner. I just wanted to welcome you home.

Thanks, I’ll see you soon.

***

I walked into the dining room and was greeted by a bubbly blonde, “How was Windhaven?”

I snorted, “Shitty,” I wrapped my arms around her, “How was the Court of Nightmares?”

Mor chuckled, “Shitty.” There was a brief pause before the two of us chuckled and took our seats. Amren sat a goblet in her hand. “How are you, Amren,” Mor gave her a smile.

Amren quirked a brow, “Ready to get this over with.”

“Come on, Little one, you don’t want to meet Feyre Cursebreaker see what she’s all about?” I countered she just scoffed and sipped her goblet.

Thunderous wings announced my brother’s presence both Rhys and Azriel had a sister and something in my chest eased to seeing Y/N. Rhys led a woman who looked so like her sister she was in a dark blue gown, and she looked beautiful. My eyes gazed over to my brother who was helping take off Y/N’s cloak and I swore the room was void of air. Y/N was in a light blue gown shimmering with sparkles looking like water on the sunset with thin straps and a slit started at the middle of her thigh that showcased her now toned thigh. Her hair was pinned to one side soft curls falling to her full chest.

Rhys slipped into my mind, Brother, close your mouth you’re drooling.

I shook my head and subconsciously wiped my mouth and looked over to Az who gave me a knowing wink before kissing the top of Mor’s head in greeting. I could feel eyes on me, and I turned my gaze back to Y/N her smile almost made me fall to my knees. And before I knew it she was sprinting toward me, I grinned back at her and opened my arms right as she hopped into my arms and wrapped her arms around my neck. “You’re home.”

I squeezed her tightly and took in her scent of Jasmine and vanilla. “I missed you too, Princess.”

There was a cough, and I opened my eyes to meet Rhys’ and I place her down and I whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful tonight.” A blush crept up on her cheeks as the grin never left her face. I led her to one of the seats in between Azriel and myself.

Rhys looked over to Feyre who did not leave the balcony, I decided I should break her tension, “Come on Feyre, we don’t bite, Unless you ask us to.” There was slap of the back of my head and saw Az giving me a pointed look and Y/N trying hard not to laugh.

“Cassian, no one has taken you up on that offer.” Rhys countered as he had his hand on Feyre’s back, she gave me a small smile and I nodded my head and gave her a wink. “The loud one over there is Cassian, Azriel on your sister’s left, you obviously know Mor and Amren, my second in command.” Rhys led her to the table and food appeared.

“So, you took down a Middengard Wyrm, pretty impressive, Feyre.” I said piling food to my plate, Y/n tensed beside me, and Feyre looked to her plate.

“No I didn’t.” Feyre murmured her eyes looming over her twin, “That was Y/N.”

I turn to the human woman beside me, “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.

She simply shrugged. “You didn’t ask, it wasn’t worth talking about.” She focused on her food.

Rhys kicked my foot under the table and gave me a pointed glare. Again another few moments went by and Rhys filled the silence with what he would require of Feyre if she were to join the Night Court and fully leave the Spring Court.

Feyre is nodding along, and Y/N had been picking at her food. I bumped my knee against hers, “Are you okay?”

She looked up at me and she smiled, “Yeah I’m great.” She leaned up to my ear and I tried to tamper my excitement of her chest pressing against my arm, “I missed you, General.”

I met her eyes and noticed her pupils were blown, “Likewise, Princess.”

“What did you do to my sister?” Feyre blurted, “What spell do you have her under?”

Y/N blinked, and her head slowly turned to her twin, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve never seen you this way, you were so cold in the Spring court and the human lands, surely, they have some type of hold on you that you are so comfortable with them. Rhys is capable-“

Y/N slammed her hands on the table and rose from her seat, her dress pooling on the floor, a true vision with rage contorting her beautiful face. “Don’t. Just don’t.” She points to Rhys, “Rhysand, offered me a bargain tattoo as a way of communicating with him in case I needed him when I was in the Spring Court. And has made sure I have been comfortable since being here.” She points to Mor, “Mor, has been a friend and a confidant and welcomed me with open arms.” She points to me and Azriel, “And these two, saved my life from the Naga when your precious High Lord left me out to rot. Everyone has been training me to fight, to strengthen my mental shield, and to read and write. Something that they are still willing to help with you if you choose to take it to give you back control.” Her hand finds mine and links her pinky around mind and my chest hummed with warmth, “You may not trust Rhysand or his friends. You don’t have to like them if you don’t want. However, by while you’re here under Rhys’s protection you will show him and his family some fucking respect, when they provided you aid, because Tamlin failed to.” Feyre balled her fist, and I could see her clench her jaw. Though Rhys had a look of shock on his face his cool mask melted away. Azriel tensed but not because he was uncomfortable it was because he was fighting back tears and Mor gave her a small smile sipping her eye. I could not help the pride swelling in my chest. The selfless, generous woman just defended my family against her own and I focus back on my plate ignoring the erratic beat of my heart.

It was Amren who chuckled low that spoke, “Oh how, I like you, Girl.”

The rest of the dinner was sat in silence, but Y/N’s pinky never unhooked from mine.

Chapter 7

Story tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you #archeron sister #cassian imagine #cassian acosf #the flash fanfiction #unwaveringpresence #acomaf #Spotify

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mistydeyes · 11 months

Text

take a walk in my shoes

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summary: With the 141 boys home and relaxing in your embrace, you decide to show them a day in your life. A sequel to opposite occupations.

pairing: 141 x civvie! fem!Reader (established relationship)

warnings: swearing, mentions of tattooing (tattoo guns and needles), but like before all fluff!

a/n: i love our lil squad of civilian significant others and thought a sequel needed to be made for our faves :)

🏷️ @fan-of-encouragement - thanks for giving me some ideas for price and the florist!

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watching love bloom - price x florist!

Ever since you first met, Price had been a tremendous help with the management of your shop. You had been going steady for a year now, "10 years in military time" Price would say. Although, it was as if you both were practically married. Besides hosting dinners and communicating with the other civilian girlfriends (in a group chat called "almost military wives🪖💍"), you lived like an old, married couple. Together, you and Price owned a small cottage placed in the English countryside. It was idyllic as Price could spend his evenings on the porch with a smoke and you could tend to a growing flower garden. Price requested some design choices but overall you furnished the home with items curated for the two of you. Your house was constantly filled with life, a new bouquet always resting on the table, and many thriving houseplants. Price would always joke that the plants were like your children especially when you went to water some and even sang to them.

Upon Price’s return to your shared home, he could tell something was on your mind. The living room was a mess with written notes and sketches as well as many sample flower bouquets.

“Darling I’m home!” he called setting his things down. He wondered where you could be. Suddenly you came from the backyard with an armful of flowers and your phone balanced between your ear and shoulder. When you saw him, you almost dropped your trimmings but Price moved to you and caught them.

“I’m glad you liked the arrangements, I’ll have them ready tomorrow,” you sighed before the other person on the line hung up.

After bombarding him with many kisses, he reminded you that the flowers were wilting with the lack of hydration.

“Who was that before?” he asked as he filled some buckets with water for you.

“It’s a bride from London, she and her partner are getting married in town. Funny enough, they started dating because of my little flower sign.” you chuckled as you began to prune the leaves and trim the stems from your haul. “Ah sounds like someone I know,” he said, gently kissing your forehead.

“As much as I enjoy the celebration of love and business, it’s been a whirlwind. You wouldn’t imagine how many phone calls and test runs I’ve had.” It was no exaggeration, these last few weeks had been a living hell as you helped the couple make their final preparations.

“Let me help you out tomorrow, got nothing better to do” he offered as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. “You really don’t have to” you replied but he could see the stress this was putting on you. “Darling, there is nothing more that I would love than spending time with you and seeing you at work.”

You and Price woke up bright and early at 5 am. The sun crept on your sleeping face as he gently woke you. After some necessary coffee, you and Price opened your shop. You went to work, grabbing buckets of flowers from the fridge. You loved the brides but this order was shipped to you from a farm, one currently not being met with the cold, autumn temperatures. As you trimmed the summery array of dahlias, hydrangeas, and cosmos, Price helped to move the never-ending buckets and took care of the growing piles of trash. You were in the middle of showing him how to assemble a bridesmaid bouquet when you heard the door open.

"Fuck, can you take care of that?" you asked as you glanced at the clock, the wedding slowly approaching. "Love, what did I tell you when we first met?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am not a man for flowers" you both said in unison. You continued, "Please John? I have a list underneath the counter detailing the different flowers for occasions. You got this!" you placed a small kiss on his lips, knowing he would do whatever you asked.

He nodded and exited to the front. When he emerged, he could see an elderly woman. "Can you help me pick out flowers? My grandson just got a new job and is moving here tomorrow" she sweetly asked. "Oh and young man, I just need them wrapped. No arranging necessary" she continued and you could hear Price rifling around for your book. Miraculously through your notebook's guidance and some of your aesthetic impressed on him, he was able to help her pick out a colorful array of peonies, tulips, and chrysanthemums - a perfect combination for a congratulations gift. You made sure to shout out from the back that he should include some wisterias and eucalyptus as a nice welcome message. You caught a glance at the bouquet and you were happy to see that the lilac hydrangeas with the orange ballerina tulips were balanced with the magenta chrysanthemums and the bundles of wisteria and eucalyptus. You can safely say, the one thing he was a natural at was tying up the loose stems. You guess his training did come in handy.

As you finished making the final additions to your bouquet, you heard Price making conversation with the older woman. “Young man, I hope you have a sweetheart at home waiting for you,” she said as you peeked and saw him handing her a bouquet. “I do actually, she reminds me that there’s more to life than destruction,” he said and you could’ve married him on the spot. The old woman wished him well as you heard the sound of her exit.

As you exited from the back, you planted a kiss on his cheek. “What’s that for?” he asked. “For being the boyfriend and employee” you smiled back at him, admiring his face that shined in the afternoon light. “Might have to change positions soon,” he joked and while you initially thought he meant employment, you realized it was something else as a more than year later he proposed. Don’t worry, he let you handle the wedding floral arrangements.

two inked hearts - soap x tattoo artist!

Although Soap had his own home, he always managed to end up at yours when he was on leave. This time was no different but unfortunately, the short notice did not allow you to take off of work. You had two customs the next day and four flash works as well.

As you were enjoying your beer, you heard the front door unlock. Knowing who it was, you walked to the entrance and saw your boyfriend standing there. Although he appeared tired and a bit grimy, his face lit up when he saw you. He kicked off his snow covered boots and dropped his duffle. He held his arms out and you immediately embraced him.

After many kisses, you lightly punched his chest. "I didn't know you were coming home so early!" you said, slightly pouting. "Well is that any way to greet a soldier," he replied and you couldn't help but smile as you missed his loving accent. "I would have called off work tomorrow," you began to say before he interrupted. "Work doesn't have to stop because I'm home, lass. I'll just go to work," he said as you pondered this decision. It was clear, he didn’t want your busy schedule to get in his way and would follow you around like a lost puppy. "I mean if the shop and the patrons don't mind, then I guess," you said back, ecstatic he would see you in your element. "Until then, you're all mine, Bonnie" he laughed before picking you up and sat you both back on the couch.

After a rushed morning, trying to get the man to let you out of bed, you showed up to work. It was winter so to Soap's dismay, you were unable to showcase all your amazing tattoos. He did insist on matching outfits. So emerging from the winter cold, you entered both wearing matching beanies and winter coats. Upon your arrival, one of your fellow artists warmly greeted Soap and commented on how cute you both were. After some catching up, you went to set up your station. Soap followed you and watched as you got your tattoo gun and the inks you would be using for the first customer. He held your waist as you sterilized the area. "My beautiful artist," he cheekily said and you rolled your eyes.

Now you were no idiot, there was no way anyone would let him tattoo them. Although his signature mohawk made him fit in with the shop's patrons. Knowing he would eventually become bored after watching you, you left him with a sketch pad and pens in a corner of your room. Your first client of the day was one of your frequent patrons. They had decided on one of your flash pieces, a hand holding a bouquet of rosemary leaves, on their thigh. As you got them comfortable in the chair, you gave Soap a quick peck and began the process. You would occasionally glance over and see him drawing with a concentrated look. “From strong, protective boyfriend to a child in seconds,” you mumbled and earned a hearty laugh from your patron.

And so the day continued, you tattooing away and Soap drawing in the corner. He would occasionally ask you what the different needle gun sizes were for and how you were able to create custom works for clients. He even conversed with another soldier getting a bicep tattoo of a skull with snakes surrounding it. You thought the idea was badass, complimenting his choice. Almost immediately, Soap interjected to say his tattoo was the best compared to the one they were getting. Eventually, once you were done for the day, you walked to Soap to see what he was drawing. You snatched the paper and in return, he pulled you into his lap.

"Well, what do we have here, my tattoo apprentice?" you asked, holding up the paper. As you looked at each drawing, you could see some familiar faces. You couldn't help but laugh when you say "You have to pay the" with Price's face following the words. He even managed to draw what looked like a depiction of Simon underneath his mask as well as Price in a florist's apron in front of his girlfriend's shop.

Your favorite was the bar of soap he had drawn in the corner with a surprising amount of detail. "You know with this work and the fact they call you 'Soap', I would think you wouldn't be as smelly," you joked. "I thought it was cool at first, they all said it was because I'm good at cleaning house but I see what you mean," he said, slightly embarrassed. You kissed him gently before telling him it was time to return to your warm bed.

Weeks later, you texted Soap a picture of your new tattoo. It was the sketch he had drawn of the bar of soap. You had done it yourself, his drawing placed on your forearm. He loved it, proudly showing it off to the other 141 boys and anyone who listened. He even was sure to text Alejandro and Rudy a picture with the caption "mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia!". He did ignore the reply from Alejandro that asked, “¿por qué la chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón?”

translations: mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia! - look at my girlfriend's new tattoo!

¿por qué una chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón? - why would a smart girl get a bar of soap tattooed on her?

being the teacher's pet - gaz x teacher!

"You know the kids always ask about you," you told Gaz as you lay leisurely on his couch. It was a Sunday and you both were enjoying each other's presence before the school week. He came home on Friday and you welcomed him home with a cooked meal and his favorite bottle of wine. The entire weekend was filled with cuddling on the couch and catching up about the last couple of months. You laughed when he told you of Soap's girlfriends tattoo. You joked wishing he had a cooler call sign so you could get it tattooed. Since your first date, you both had established a comfortable long distance relationship but you always loved when he was home.

"I could make an appearance," he joked. As you lay on his chest, you could feel him laughing lightly. He would come to regret that statement as you begged him to visit the class the next day. After some convincing, he obliged unable to deny your sweet face.

The next day, you stopped by Kyle’s flat for some morning coffee. As you opened the door, you could see him standing by the hallway mirror making sure he looked presentable. You smiled, noting he was wearing the beige button-up and navy blue sports coat you had bought him. You suddenly felt underdressed in your green slacks and brown blouse.

“You look great, Kyle, let’s go get something to drink” you spoke and he looked at you with his charming smile that brightened the room. He took your hand gently and you walked to the local coffee shop. It was spring and you couldn't help but admire the new blooms on the trees. Once you both arrived, you enjoyed your morning brew as he sipped his tea. You wished he could stay home forever as he looked so relaxed in the early morning sun. However, you suddenly were reminded of the time and kissed him on the cheek, reiterating that he should be at school for snack time.

Once you arrived at the school, you went about your typical routine and eventually, it was time to begin your lessons. You went through your plan, teaching your students basic arrhythmic in the morning. As snack time approached, you smiled knowing you'd make your students' day.

“Alright, class! I have a surprise for you” you eagerly said. Gaz was on the other side of the classroom door, smiling as he heard your enthusiastic voice. “We have a special guest today who’s going to join us for snack time!”

With that, you whisked open the door and Gaz walked into the cheers of the children. He had two lunchboxes in his hand and your heart melted. The entire class wanted Gaz to sit with them so you decided to form them into a circle so everyone could enjoy his presence. You opened the lunchbox to reveal a variety of strawberries and watermelon, delicately cut into hearts. As everyone ate their snacks, one of your students asked if Gaz would be teaching them today.

"Well I'm sure Mr. Military Man could teach you some things while we eat," you winked looking at Gaz. The children were giddy with excitement and kept begging Gaz to teach them some military things. Not wanting to expose them to the horrors of his job, he simply taught them the military alphabet and assigned them all code names. He carefully assigned one to each kid based on their personalities as well as some stories you had told him. As you watched your boyfriend methodically assign the names, you softly chuckled to yourself. In another life, Gaz would be an amazing teacher as he was great with the kids.

Once snack time was over, you let the children know they would be doing some quiet reading before practicing some of their writing skills. Gaz sat on the edge of your desk as you answered some emails from parents.

You both then heard a child whisper, "Goose, can we swap books? I finished mine." Her friend replied, "Shhh, Maverick I'm almost done." You let out a small laugh, enjoying the subtle nod to the Top Gun movie.

"Goose, you can get another book from the cubby" you said as the other children continued reading. Looking over to Gaz you gave him a smile. “Thanks for doing this, babes,” you said and placed your hand on top of his. The moment was momentarily spoiled when he whispered, “So when are we going to have our army of kids?”

Upon Gaz’s next return from the 141, he found his apartment filled with framed drawings from the children. You had surprised him with it and all of your students were more than happy to participate. Each one of them wrote their names at the bottom along with their call sign. They all had one theme: “Miss Y/N and her husband.”

a purr-fect romance - ghost x veterinarian!

"How's my favorite patient doing?" you ask as you see Ghost with Earl Grey in his arms. Simon had come home just in time to enjoy the beginning of summer and the clear skies. He was dressed in a neutral-colored t-shirt and shorts, enjoying the nice weather you recently had been having. He even had put Earl in a small straw hat you had bought. You loved seeing him look like a little beach-goer.

“I’m doing well, love,” he said and gave you a peck on the cheek. As soon as he got close to you, Earl Grey tried to leap on you. “Well hello to you, Earl” you smiled as Ghost gently handed him to you.

In the last two years, Earl and Simon had become your home. You and Simon owned a flat down the street, a lovely commute for you to the office and a place of solace for him. When you began to furnish your home, you were astonished at how little he had in personal items and how much he had for Earl. Maybe it was due to all this spoiling that Earl had a clear love for Ghost. When he would leave for deployment, Earl would find his way to sneak in between you both in bed. One time Ghost snuck out of bed and was able to capture an image of you sleeping on your stomach with Earl resting on your back. Although you said you looked like a hot mess with your sprawled figure and crazy hair, Ghost treasured the photo and printed out a small copy to keep with him at all times. Despite this domestic life, Ghost would always insist on bringing Earl Grey to your office whenever he was home. It would be easier to just have you bring him in with you for his check-up but you secretly loved seeing your boyfriend in your office.

“Just a check-up and vaccine for us today, Doc” Ghost said as you checked them in. It was later in the afternoon and you had sent your assistants home as the only patient was Earl for the rest of the day. Plus, you knew they would love to enjoy the warm evening around town. “Actually, would you like to see what I do?” you asked. He nodded and you could tell he was curious.

You lead him to one of the rooms as you donned your coat and gloves of your own. You gently placed Earl down and went through the motions, showing Ghost how you typically performed an exam. You let him listen to Earl's heartbeat with your stethoscope and described to him what things to look for when examining his coat, ears, eyes, and mouth.

"Well I'm happy to say, Mr. Riley, that your cat is in perfect health," you smiled at him and you raised your hand in front of Earl to receive a high five. "Now just for that rabies shot," you said and you pulled out the materials from around the office.

As you drew up the vaccine, Ghost entertained Earl with one of the many ribbon teaser toys lying around. You laughed as you saw Earl going crazy for the thing. Finally ready, you let Ghost pet him as you found the best area on Earl's right hind leg to administer. Setting him on his side, your heart warmed hearing him purr gently into Simon's arms.

"Alright, Earl, this will be real quick," you said and you quickly administered the shot. Earl whined and Ghost tried his best, gently saying to him, "It's okay bud, the lovely doc is almost done." With that, you finished and allowed Earl to return to his toys as you cleaned up.

Ghost picked Earl back up and you closed up the office. As you walked home in the balmy night air, Ghost was clearly in a cheery mode. "You're so great with animals, when are we-" he began to joke before you stopped him. "We can think about adopting maybe another kitten. I swear if you make Kyle's joke about having an army of them, then you can live in a house with them while his girlfriend and I live in our clean flat." With that, he laughed and wrapped a free arm around you. You wondered how life could be so perfect. You lived with your soulmate, taking care of an animal who loved you both and got to end the night with long conversations over some tea. You smiled up at him, content with your loving boyfriend and his cat child.

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

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Buck & Eddie: “You don’t know me!” - 7x5

In 2x8, Buck told a woman, “You don’t even know me!” and according to the script for episode 5 in season 7, the title of it will be almost an exact match since it's "You don’t know me!” and it appears to be a callback to his comment.

Since it's possible some may not have watched 2x8 Buck Actually in a while, here’s a quick reminder of the conversation Buck had with Bobby. They were discussing TK and how Buck hooked up with her in a bar restroom but Buck told him that since he had finally let go of AC, he thought she had changed him 🙄. Then he proceeded to say he had only been single for like a day and he was back to basically being Buck 1.0. When they entered the gas station, Buck kept talking to Bobby about how he was thinking about calling TK but he didn’t want her to think he was only after one thing. While Hen was treating the woman robber victim, she overheard Buck talking and commented, “You are only after one thing. Jerk!”. Buck responded, “You don’t even know me!” and she replied, “You’re a man, I know enough!”

Why is this important?

It’s important because the theme of “You don’t know me” has been applied to Buck with regards to every hookup or so-called “relationship” he’s had with different women on the show. Let’s be real for a minute because the truth is none of them AC, AM, TK, ND, Dr. Wells nor the two women he hooked up with in season 1 knew him either. Also, the woman who made the comment was a random victim who overheard Buck talking for less than a minute and she thought she knew Buck just because he’s a man. It was implied that all men want to do is hookup and leave like he did with TK but Buck has been and continues to search for the love of his life. The conversation he had with her connects to the one he had with Eddie in 6x15 while they were standing in the cemetery.

Buck said, “I feel like I have to try and be the same old Buck… mostly for the sake of everyone else” and Eddie responded, “You don’t have to be anything for anybody”.

IMO, their comments were being made directly to the audience and they were for the people who, after six seasons still want to keep seeing Buck do the same thing over and over again (I know it’s hard to believe but trust and believe there are people in the GA and in the 9-1-1 fandom who want to keep Buck on the hamster wheel and I think it’s because they DON’T WANT HIM TO BE WITH EDDIE). These are the viewers who would rather he keep randomly hooking up with people (it could be anybody and it doesn’t matter if it’s irrational, nonsensical, illogical, random or whatever/whomever just as long as they can see him hookup with another guy or another random love interest) instead of him finally accepting the love that him and Eddie effortlessly share with one another. I’ve said this many times, Buck and Eddie are in love with each other, they’re soulmates (post linked here) and they share a once in a lifetime love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time. They have a deep, emotional and intimate connection that’s not superficial and it’s not based on a hookup. They have an EPIC love story that deserves to be told without any more distractions or the addition of one-dimensional love interests. It’s not platonic, it’s romantic and if they do go CANON, it will make for groundbreaking television.

Back to our regularly scheduled program…

After the title for 7x5 was released a few weeks ago, I completed a post about how Connor really doesn’t know Buck the way he said he does in 6x4 (linked here) and I stand by everything I included in it. However, this post is in addition to that one and it includes the details about how all the women Buck dated didn’t know him either.

In 1x1, the first woman Buck was shown hooking up with in the firetruck told him to his face that she didn’t want to get to know him. He asked her for her number and she replied, “You’re cute and you’re very good at whatever it is we just did but let’s not ruin it by getting to know each other.” She didn't want to get to know him and the look on his face showed he wanted more but she didn't so he moved on to the next one.

Dr. Wells was the LAFD’s trauma therapist and SHE TRIED TO BEFRIEND Buck on Facebook before he ever entered her office. She knew the day would come when he would need therapy and when he asked her if she sent him a friend request, she told him he should delete it but then they ended up having sex. It was played off like a joke but that’s not what it was because she was in a position of power and as a licensed therapist, she should have been charged because it’s against the law for that to happen. IMO, since Buck didn't know any better, as his captain, Bobby should have reported her. She wasn't mentioned again until 3x9 when Buck, Bobby, Chimney and Eddie were sitting in the loft at the firehouse and all Bobby said was "She's no longer with the department". That wasn't enough and she took advantage of him. Trust and believe the situation would have ended differently if the roles had been reversed.

AC wasn’t any different because after Buck stood by her and helped her after her mom died, he was being catfished by a man and several women were after him because of that guy's lies. After a woman threw a drink in his face, he said to her, “You know me right? Come on” and she replied, “I don’t even know who I am right now. But I definitely don’t feel like I know who you are right now.” She ended up ghosting him and abandoning him while he waited for her for months.

When she returned two years later, she didn't even apologize to him.

AM didn’t know Buck either and don’t get sidetracked by the fact that she called him Evan sometimes. It was proven she didn’t know who he is when she said, “I know it’s who you are” after he said, “You want me to quit my job”. Well, being a firefighter is NOT who Buck is, it’s what he does but she clearly saw him as a hot firefighter just like AC did and was looking for a good time. Please remember she didn't have a problem leaving him because of it.

TK didn’t know Buck at all and for everyone who thinks just because they were having sex and living together, that doesn’t mean anything because after meeting four years earlier, TK still had no idea who Buck was before it was over and she didn’t care. If she had known him then she wouldn’t have betrayed his trust. Also, he did cheat on her which made the situation worse but neither of them wanted to admit they weren’t supposed to be together and they clung instead of just ending it. When he got ready to break up with her, she didn't try to see his side of it, she just stuck to her immoral ideals and wanted him to be ok with her running with the Jonah story. Instead of saying, “I understand and I apologize” she said, “You knew who I was when we started dating” and he replied, “I guess I thought I could learn to live with it”. She made it all about her the same way Buck makes everything about himself. They were two self-centered people with tragic childhoods in a trainwreck relationship and it shouldn’t have ever happened. It's still interesting that Buck ended up in a relationship with her after everything she did to Bobby and the 118 four years earlier (related post linked here and here).

ND fangirled over Buck and was so enthralled by his death but when she found out he had a full life, she did judge him. He said, “I know this is something that’s easy to judge” but even though she said that him being a sperm donor was a kind gesture or whatever, she left because she couldn't handle his full life. Granted she was a death doula but her actions weren't professional and it would have been better if she would have helped him deal with his death. Her return should have ended with Buck saying "No thanks" and sending her on her way but of course he was shoved into another lackluster one dimensional relationship. Also, them telling each other, “I like you” was very high school like🙄.

Please understand, I don't like TK but in 4x8 she said, "You just can't stand the idea of someone not liking you" and she was right. Buck works hard to make people like him and it's very reminiscent of the way he's been trying to get his parents to love him anyway. He needs therapy.

It seems like he's still doing it and the words Bobby spoke in 6x11 during his coma dream had no effect since he still cares about how people see him. He hasn't learned anything yet but hopefully he will in season 7.

Eddie Diaz is the ONLY person on the show who KNOWS and SEES Buck and the video above includes several snippets from different episodes to prove it.

Eddie knows him at his core. He knows when to call him on his BS, he recognizes when Buck makes things about himself and he knows when he's trying to fix things instead of understanding it's not always his job to fix them.

Maddie is Buck's sister but she still sees Evan (post linked here) her little brother but Eddie knows Buck and after they become a CANON couple, he’ll know Buck even more.

While I’m not sure who’s going to say, “You don’t know me” in 7x5 or if it will be said at all, I do believe Buck might say it again and if he does, it will be a callback to 2x8. Also, 6x15 could be included in it since Buck might not be trying to be the "same old Buck" anymore and hopefully it will be enough for the naysayers to understand he's not the same person. IMO, I still think it’s something he will say to Connor especially since the sperm donor arc is supposed to return and OS said in an interview it won’t be revisited before the first 5 episodes. Hopefully, Buck will finally realize the people he thought knew him really don’t including Connor.

Is it possible Eddie could say it to M, maybe but I don’t know because IMO that doesn’t sound like something he would say to anyone. But he is all therapized now and he’s supposed to be joking or whatever this season so who knows.

The point of this post is to illustrate how Buck said, “You don’t even know me” in 2x8 and apparently, it’s going to be a callback in 7x5 but the question is, if he does say it, who’s he going to say it to? 👀

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA because my puppy was destructive and did a lot of damage?

I have a five month old puppy. Since she was five months old I have used a Pet Sitter as she is a puppy and cannot be left unattended. She’s completed puppy training and I’m working through an intermediate obedience class. I’ve lent the Pet Sitter the training manual in the past, so she knows the puppy’s commands and what we are working on.

My partner and I a week off from work so we decided to travel Tuesday - Thursday and Saturday - Sunday. I picked the puppy up Thursday night and brought her back to the Pet Sitter on Saturday afternoon.

On Thursday when I picked up the puppy the Pet Sitter remarked that she didn’t know how I kept a puppy in my apartment without a yard. That the puppy had been running around since 4 am and never got tired. I explained that I walk her and mostly tire her out with mental exercises like training.

The puppy slept most of the day Friday and wasn’t interested in getting up for anything, even food. She seemed completely exhausted and I was worried that the Pet Sitter had overdone it with her. When I dropped her off Saturday I told the Pet Sitter about how tired she’d been but the Pet Sitter didn’t seem concerned.

On Sunday morning the Pet Sitter texted me about how much the puppy loved running around outside in the rain and that she thought the puppy would love to live on a farm.

Sunday afternoon, she texted me saying that my puppy had destroyed her garden. “Hi can you have your roommate come and get the dog? I cannot keep the puppy out of the garden or stop her from destroying the yard.”

By roommate she meant my partner who was with me on vacation out of town. At the time she sent this text my cell phone did not have service and I received this text as well as the others about fifteen ministers later. She sent me pictures of the destroyed garden and a text.

“She literally has chewed up part of the little fence I had around the garden.”

She then sent me several pictures of pictures of my puppy actively chewing on the little fence thing. I felt frustrated that she took pictures rather than telling her to leave it.

She said the damage happened “within 5 minutes it took me to go to the bathroom. She needs a giant farm with cattle or sheep to heard.”

And asked how soon I could pick up the dog. I said we were leaving right away but it was a three hour drive (which ended up being longer due to storms and traffic).

When I got there to pick up the dog she wanted to show me all the damage the dog did and said she left it there like it was so she could show me. I declined because I was scheduled to meet with my puppy’s trainer.

She said she knows it’s not technically my fault but I need to understand she will never watch my puppy again and does not think the puppy is suitable to live in a city and should be on a farm.

I met with my trainer and showed her the texts and pictures and she said that digging and chewing was likely a boredom response. She’s never caused much destruction at my place aside from occasionally chewing things she shouldn’t chew when I wasn’t looking which resulted in me telling her to leave it when I noticed.

I never leave her unattended around the house. She’s kennel trained and if I have to leave her alone even to go to sleep she is in her kennel.

I had no idea she’d destroy the garden, but I also didn’t know the pet sitter had a garden or that she it wasn’t secured in a way to keep dogs out or that she’d leave my puppy unattended.

I’m not sure what how I could have managed the puppy’s behavior since I was not there and hadn’t been there since the day before. I assumed the Pet Sitter knew how to look after puppies since she looks after puppies, and agreed to look after mine and had done so repeatedly.

But I feel guilty about all the damage. The Pet Sitter said she’d done hundreds of dollars of damage to the garden and gotten her into trouble with her landlady for damage done to the yard and vines on the wall.

The Pet Sitter was always really nice. She has everyone call her aunty and called the puppy our baby. She sent puppy home with new toys and gave us a giant gift bag after watching her on Christmas with a new leash and snuffle mats and toys. I’m really sorry the damage happened but I’m not sure what I could have done differently.

https://imgur.com/gallery/ZFkp8ao

The imgur link, clickable

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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neonghostlights · 11 months

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Chapter One: A Breakup, a Missing Person, and a Business Trip

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson left you behind to chase his dreams before suddenly disappearing. When he shows up 5 years later, will he be able to work his way back into your heart?

Warnings: Breakups, Betrayal, Arguments, Eddie is immature, Missing person, Mention of cops, Annoying flirty coworker, Reader is wearing a dress and heels, Brief mention of anaphylactic shock (doesn't really happen it's just mentioned), Brief mention of a heart attack (doesn't really happen it's just mentioned) Food/Eating, Alcohol, Reader and Eddie are in early 20s in ‘86, are in mid 20’s in ‘91. This series is 18+, Minors DNI

Word Count: 3.8k

Series Masterlist

July 1986

When you were finally able to form a sentence again you took the chance to ask the question at the forefront of your mind.

“How long?”

“Hm?” He hummed like he hadn’t heard you at all.

Suddenly, shoving clothes into a trashbag was the most interesting thing in the world to him. You knew he was avoiding you; avoiding the damage he was doing.

“How long have you known you were leaving?” You bit out. Any patience you had for him was long gone.

“Uh, well, a couple of weeks,” he said, still refusing to make eye contact.

“When you say ‘a couple of weeks’ you mean-”

“A month. I’ve known for a month.” Finally, he lifted his head to look at you. He stepped away from the half full trash bag and ran a hand through his hair, bangs sticking to his forehead from the exertion of his speed packing.

It had been a month since Eddie had met a woman at The Hideout who claimed to be a big shot music producer. She had made big promises for him and the band, telling them that if they follow her out to California then she can make their wildest dreams come true. Of course, this had happened on the one Tuesday you weren’t there.

Of course Eddie would choose her and her promises over you.

“You’ve known you were leaving for a month and you just didn’t say anything to me? Did the last three years mean nothing to you?” You yelled, rage taking over any ounce of control that you had.

You had never yelled at Eddie before. You can’t even remember a time when you two had ever argued in the past three years you had been together.

Patience had always been your virtue. You were patient when he took three years to graduate. You were patient when he would sell drugs for Rick instead of getting a real job. You were patient when he would be late for dates because Hellfire or band practice ran over. You were patient all of the times you dragged him home drunk and belligerent from The Hideout.

You were patient with all things that were Eddie Munson. All you had done for the past three years was give and give during your relationship and he never considered doing the same for you. And maybe that was your own mistake for allowing it.

Eddie winced at your raised voice, something he had never heard before.

“This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“Oh really? Then what was your grand plan? You dump me and run off into the sunset and just expect me to be okay with it?” You didn’t yell this time, but your voice was still harsh.

“You’re not listening. I am not just dumping you. This is a great opportunity for the band, for us.” He took a step towards you, you took a step back. He looked at the distance between the two of you and let out a deep sigh. “When I make it big and start bringing some money in then I’ll come back for you. We just need to be apart for a little bit but I promise I’ll come back for you. Go to that big fancy college and just wait for me. I promise it will be worth it.”

You couldn’t even process the stupidity of what he was saying to you.

Sometimes it amazed you how both you and Eddie were twenty years old, but the maturity levels differed greatly between the two of you. Eddie was a dreamer, you were more practical.

There was nothing wrong with him dreaming but where it went wrong was how he jumped head first into things without thinking.

You and Eddie had started dating during your only senior year, his first, and after you graduated you stayed in Hawkins to go to community college. Now that you had your associate's degree, you were going to a nicer university to receive your bachelors.

The university wasn’t far. Initially the plan was for Eddie to get a real job and move with you while you finished school. It wasn’t your idea but his, and he had seemed excited. So what changed?

You were so angry. All of the love you two had shared over the past three years was for nothing. All of the times he would tell you how much he loved you and how he planned to marry you one day when he got himself together had been a big fat lie.

You had never felt so betrayed.

“Grow up, Eddie. You expect me to sit around and wait for you while you live the rockstar lifestyle for a few years and get it out of your system.” You snapped.

“That’s not true,” he denied. “I’ll call you, depending on how busy I am with the tour. We don’t have to be strangers. I’m just asking you to wait for me.”

You stared at him blankly for a moment, taking him in for what was probably going to be the last time.

A horn honked outside, breaking you from your trance.

“Don’t bother calling me. I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again,” you said as you stepped around him and headed for his bedroom door.

“You don’t mean that. I thought out of everyone you would be the most understanding.” He called out behind you with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

He didn’t chase after you or take it all back as you walked out of the trailer. Part of you still expected for him to laugh and say it was all a joke. But, of course, that never happened.

Garrett, Jeff, and Grant sat on the porch and eyed you warily as you walked past. The looks on their faces told you that they already knew what had just went down.

They were Eddie’s friends first, so it doesn’t surprise you that they had chosen him over you.

But, damn, did it still hurt.

You didn’t let them see you cry as you pulled away from the trailer. You saved your tears for when you got home and threw yourself into a bedroom that was covered in memories of you and Eddie’s time together.

You promised yourself as you sobbed into your pillow that night, that you would never ever let someone break you again.

December 1986

Your socked feet danced over the shaggy rug that laid beside your twin side bed.

You didn’t plan on living in a dorm room for the remaining two years of your degree, especially since you had transferred from a community college and were so used to the freedom that came with that.

You picked up another piece of clothing from the pile beside you and folded it messily before shoving it into the open duffel bag at your feet.

The idea of going back to Hawkins, even for a few weeks, was not exciting to you. Your parents had practically begged you on the phone to come home. Your father was even daring enough to threaten a possible heart attack if you didn’t come home to visit.

It wasn’t their fault you didn’t want to return. Hawkins was an unhealed wound in your heart, the edges tender and throbbing. You feared that just crossing over the town lines would cause the edges to rip apart and bleed ferociously into your chest.

You didn’t think you’d be able to handle that, but for the sake of the holidays, you had no choice.

College had been great so far and a good distraction from your troubles. The parties that your roommate, Lissa, dragged you out to during the weekends helped to numb the pain. Lissa had taken you under her wing once you moved in and after a night with a bottle of wine, she got the pleasure of hearing the whole story of why your heart was so broken.

Ever since then, she had been on a one woman mission to cheer you up.

You tossed another piece of clothing into the duffel bag, happy that Lissa had already left to go home so she couldn’t get onto you for moping.

The door to the room was left open. Something about the heating system in this place made the rooms stuffy during the winter. You could hear the happy chatter of people walking past the entrance as they left to go home for the break, relieved that finals were over.

A ring from one of the phones outside of the room caught your attention for a second. That was another thing that you missed from living at home, having your own phone. Here they had the community phones in the hallway outside the rooms that everyone had to share.

The ringing cut off quickly, most likely from the person who was waiting for the call.

You balled up a pair of socks and tossed them into the bag. At this rate, you’d be finished packing by the time winter break was over. You threw your body back with a groan so your upper half laid flat on the bed and your legs hung off at an odd angle.

You heard a throat clear awkwardly from the doorway. Your head snapped up in surprise to see one of the girls a few doors down standing there.

“Uh, there’s someone on the phone for you,” she said.

You couldn’t even be embarrassed that she witnessed your little meltdown over packing.

“Oh? Did they say who it was?” You asked. You didn’t expect your mom and dad to call you since you were already supposed to be on the road by now. Lissa wouldn’t have a reason to call either.

“Some guy. I think he said his name was Munson.”

You sat up with a jolt. “Munson?” You asked but she had already left the doorway.

You scrambled off the bed and hurried out into the hallway to see the phone sitting off the hook and waiting for you to answer.

Eddie had never called you after he left for California. The memory of telling him not to call was still fresh. But part of you hoped he wouldn’t have listened and that he would have called anyway, even if it was just to tell you how amazing his life was now.

The petty part of you wished he regretted it and that he was coming home to make things right.

You cleared your throat and wiped your sweaty hands against your sweatshirt before you picked up the phone, praying that he hadn’t hung up yet.

“Hello?” Your voice came out breathy and weak. You wished you had pulled yourself together some more so you would sound stronger and more sure of yourself. Prove to him that college had made you forget about him.

“Hey, uh, it’s Wayne.” You pulled the phone away from your ear to look down at it for a second, hoping that it would somehow explain to you why Wayne Munson was calling you.

You and Wayne had been close when you and Eddie were together. But the last time you saw him was before the break up. You had no hard feelings for Wayne. If anything, the break up made you miss him too.

“Oh. Hey, Wayne,” you said, trying to keep the disappointment and confusion from your voice.

“I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re probably busy studying and stuff,” he started off. You fought the urge to tell him you were not busy studying at all. Wayne had been so happy for you when you told him you got accepted into this university. He was even excited for you just for starting out at a community college. “But have you heard from Eddie at all?”

The world screeched to a halt.

“Eddie? No? Why?” This time, there was no hiding the confusion.

“He didn’t come home. I don’t know if you heard that the rest of the boys in that band came home a couple of months ago with their tails between their legs. They said something about a scam and things not working out. But Eddie didn’t come back with them like he was supposed to. He ran off instead of going with them and no one has heard from him. He told me when he left he would call but he hasn’t. It’s getting close to the holidays and he has never missed Christmas and it’s making me worried.”

Wayne never was one to show much emotion, but the worry was palpable through the phone. He had every reason to be worried..

Eddie leaving you behind made sense, but Eddie leaving Wayne and not bothering to check on him was absurd. He wouldn’t just do that, right?

“Have you called the cops?” You asked immediately.

Wayne let out a humorless laugh. “Yep. Called them before I thought to check with you. Hawkins police never cared much for Eddie, as you already know. They said they can’t do anything since he didn’t go missing here. I called the police in the town he was last in and they told me that he’s an adult and he has the right to not call.”

You thought for a second, every horrible possibility racing through your mind. What if he was kidnapped or was in some sort of awful accident? What if he was out there somewhere and needed your help?

“Do you think he’s okay? Should I go out there and look for him?”

“No. Don’t do that. The last thing we need is you going out there and ending up missing yourself,” he said with a stern tone. You knew it came from a place of concern and not anger.

As much as you hated it, you knew Wayne was right. You didn’t know much about California. Wayne knew where he was last seen but odds were he wasn’t there anymore.

You leaned your head against the wall in front of you in defeat.

“What can I do, Wayne?” You begged. You and Eddie had been broken up for months but it didn’t feel right to just hang up and pretend this conversation never happened.

“Just wait and see if he calls. That’s all either of us can do for now. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You sighed in response, not sure what else to say.

“I tried to talk him out of leaving, you know?” Wayne said after a few beats of silence. “Told him he was dumb to leave you behind. But that boy doesn’t listen when he gets an idea in his head-”

“I have to go,” you announced quickly, cutting Wayne off from whatever else he was about to say.

You couldn’t listen to it. Didn’t want to relive the heartbreak.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Take care of yourself, kid. Will you just give me a call if you hear from him?”

“Sure,” you said before another thought crossed your mind. The image of Wayne Munson spending Christmas alone in that cold trailer caused you to speak without thinking about it. “I’m actually coming back to Hawkins tonight for winter break. Did you want to meet up for lunch sometime or maybe even meet up for Christmas if he doesn’t call?”

“Sure, kid. I’d love that.”

Even though making sure Wayne was taken care of would help relieve some of your guilt, you couldn’t help but think back to when you told Eddie you didn’t want to see or hear from him ever again.

Seems like you would get your wish.

August 1991

August in California was blistering hot.

From the second you stepped off of the airplane, you were ready to get right back on and head home to Indiana to lock yourself into your air conditioned apartment in Indianapolis. At least there you would have your cat, Junie. Plus, if you went home now, Lissa wouldn’t have to feed and take care of Junie for you even though she was allergic. Honestly, you could make the excuse to get out of this trip by saying you had to save your friend from anaphylactic shock.

But if you did that then your boss would have your head.

And in order to get this promotion you really needed your head.

You had started working for this publishing company straight after college three years ago. You adored working in the business of books and were honestly lucky to get the position that you already had.

But if sucking up to your boss and attending this stupid business trip in sweltering California would help you climb the metaphorical ladder, then you would do it.

You fanned yourself as you waited in the hotel lobby for the rest of your group. The crisp white furniture and marble floors made you feel out of place. Never in a million years would you stay in a place like this on your own dime. You wondered how much it would cost for them to mop you off the floor once you melted right out of your heels.

You were immediately regretting the black wrap dress you had chosen as you felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of your neck. You wished they would have given you just one night to relax before the day full of meetings and seminars the next day.

Fancy hotels like this were supposed to have top notch A/C, right? The constant turning of the revolving door from sharp dressed business men probably canceled the promise of cool air out.

You fanned yourself again with another wave of your hand. Was it the heat getting to you or was it the blazing reminder of the last person you knew that came to this state just to never be seen again?

You shook your head, pushing the thought away from you. If you went too deep down that rabbit hole then you would never find your way back out. Unfortunately, you knew that from experience.

Even just standing in this hotel lobby made you uneasy. Although he didn’t disappear from this area, you were still on constant alert.

“You look hot.”

Vance’s voice called out as he approached. The double meaning didn’t go over your head as you continuously fanned yourself with your hand.

“Yeah, well. It’s hot in here,” you said to Vance as he approached.

Vance looked as prim and proper as he usually did with his slicked back blonde hair, collared shirt, and shiny shoes. He had started at the publishing company around the same time as you and was quickly determined to be around you at all times since you were both the newest hires.

Most of the time you didn’t mind it. He was harmless, a little annoying sometimes like a mosquito, but mostly harmless.

Lissa had heard your stories about Vances flirting and insisted you at least went on one date with him just to try it out. You didn’t think it was the best idea, especially since you worked together.

You also didn’t do serious relationships and didn’t want to give him false hope.

You could see the swarm of your coworkers and your boss cross the lobby towards you.

“Should we go ahead in there?” Vance asked, holding out his elbow for you to hold.

You rolled your eyes, before grabbing onto his arm and walking into the hotel restaurant together.

Vance and you grabbed the seats right beside each other at the very end of the table.

You had immediately breathed a sigh of relief when the crisp, cool air of the restaurant greeted you, cooling your fevered skin.

The restaurant, just like the hotel it resided in, was very fancy with pristine white table cloths and flawless place settings that had too many forks than you could name.

You learned over the years at your job that the best thing to do was to pretend you knew what you were doing and usually no one asked any questions. Or, at the very least, follow Vance’s lead because he came from a household that had fancy meals on the regular.

Everyone seemed mostly relaxed as they sat at the table and started to chat. No one would be able to fully let loose with their boss at the end of the table, watching like a hawk.

Red wine was ordered and tables glasses were filled as you all looked over the very intricate menu. Half of these words you wouldn’t be able to pronounce.

Vance tapped your shoulder to get your attention.

“Do you think I should get the caviar as a starter?” He asked so seriously that you didn’t even question if he was kidding or not.

“Do you really want to eat fish eggs?” You questioned him with a raised brow as you skimmed over the menu. “Why doesn’t this place have mozzarella sticks?”

“Because it’s supposed to be fine dining and not your local pizza joint,” he jabbed back. He pointed to an item on the menu. “Get the bruschetta. It has cheese on it.”

“Thank you,” you hummed as you looked over the menu again.

You fought back eye roll as Vance placed his hand on your arm instead of responding. You resisted the urge to push him off.

During you and Vance’s talking about the menu, you didn’t see your waiter approach or hear him introduce himself.

You were in your own little world until you actually heard him speak to you. He had the voice you had only heard in your dreams and old home videos that Wayne would pull out when he was feeling sentimental during the holidays.

“Are you ready to order?”

Your head turned slowly to face him, scared that you would be disappointed by what you were about to see. When his wide eyes mimicked yours in surprise you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking.

“Eddie?”

#eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #waiter!eddie munson

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jbaileyfansite · 3 months

Text

Interview with Interview Magazine (2024)

Before he was known as the dashing Lord Anthony Bridgerton or Tim Laughlin, the character in Fellow Travelers for which he won a Critics Choice Award earlier this month, Jonathan Bailey caught the attention of Phoebe Waller-Bridge with his confident, self-possessed audition for her show Crashing nearly a decade ago. “You came in like a fireball,” said the Fleabag star on Zoom with Bailey, recounting how, while reading for the role of the sex-obsessed Sam, Bailey asked permission to lay his script out on the floor in front of him like a rainbow. “You had no embarrassment. You didn’t actually refer to it again, but you took those few seconds to just completely set up what you exactly needed for that audition, and then you were so free.” In the years since, with roles in Bridgerton, the Showtime drama Fellow Travelers, and the upcoming Wicked movie adaptation, Bailey has become one of the most sought-after actors in the business, capable of generating sparks with whoever’s on screen with him. Waller-Bridge attributes this to the 35-year-old’s distinct understanding of tension. “You’re like a chemistry machine,” she gushed. “There’s this incredible erotic energy that people are so excited about.” Last week, from a hotel room at Claridge’s in London, Bailey talked to Waller-Bridge about longing, orgasms, frosted tips, nostalgia, Shakespeare, and his very first role: playing a raindrop in a stage production of Noah’s Ark.

PHOEBE WALLER-BRIDGE: Hi.

JONATHAN BAILEY: Hi.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I’m taking my glasses off. Now I can be real.

BAILEY: I’ve just had a gin and tonic, actually. I had a meeting and he really wanted a glass of Whispering Angel, so I was like, “Well, I’ve got to dive in.”

WALLER-BRIDGE: What’s the time there?

BAILEY: Oh, I’m literally around the corner from you. Literally, I’ve come into Claridge’s Hotel and checked in for an hour just to have a Zoom.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Oh, god. That’s so chic. Jonny, I want all of your secrets.

BAILEY: I feel like you’ve got quite a few of them already.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I do, actually. And we’re not going to talk about any of those. But I did also get to do a little bit of research on you.

BAILEY: Oh, god. What have you got?

WALLER-BRIDGE: Jonathan Stewart Bailey, I’d like to jump straight in with the fact that the first professional job you had was playing a teardrop, or a raindrop?

BAILEY: There were teardrops, but yeah, I was playing a raindrop.

WALLER-BRIDGE: You were a crying raindrop.

BAILEY: A crying raindrop in Noah’s Ark.

WALLER-BRIDGE: And how old were you then?

BAILEY: I think I was about 5 going on 29. I was really upset because it didn’t rain. The bitch that played Noah, she forgot the cue for the rain to come. So my dance didn’t make it, but at the end of the show they allowed me to do it once everyone had applauded.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I asked you that specifically because you’ve also said that your grandmother took you to see a production of Oliver in London and that’s what changed everything.

BAILEY: Yes.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So was the raindrop before or after that? I am getting to something, I promise.

BAILEY: I think it was probably afterwards. I was really young when I went to see Oliver.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I’m interested because I read that seeing it made you decide you wanted to perform. Can you tell me the specific thing that made it click?

BAILEY: I’ll tell you, the most bizarre thing is that I had three seasons at the RSC under my belt by the age of nine. There was a moment where I played Prince Arthur, the kid in Shakespeare who gets his eyes gouged out and has to escape a turret. I remember doing that production and thinking I was aware of the power of words, if that makes sense. You’re so porous at that age, I think. It is such a gift, isn’t it, to be shown what iambic pentameter is.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you still feel passionate about Shakespeare now?

BAILEY: I do, actually. It’s my dirty, filthy habit.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Your dirty little habit. I know what you mean, though, how if you come to it quite raw, and it’s not something that you’ve had shoved down your throat at school, there is nothing more epic and spectacular.

BAILEY: And being around people who are just so committed to their vocation, whether they’re writing or creating. The smell backstage at the RSC at the Barbican was like cigarettes, stage makeup, Joe Fiennes, and hope.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s a lot of beautiful smells you’ve got going on there.

BAILEY: I know. Talk about top notes and bottom notes. I was like, “These men, these titans of theater!”

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s extraordinary that you were exposed to that kind of level of professionalism. Because you are consummately professional, and I remember that. You have this incredible ability to be completely live and spontaneous and wild at the same time as being so incredibly professional, and that’s why working with you felt totally safe. I know that I’ve got a professional actor coming today, but I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen because you still managed to keep that spontaneity and danger.

BAILEY: I suppose it’s sometimes dangerous. Today I had to do an interview. Crashing came up and I described working with you as being on the constant edge of an orgasm and also hysteria.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It did have a kind of wild, beautiful energy.

BAILEY: There’s a chemical alchemy when you get the right group of people led by the right people.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I haven’t had that in quite the same way since, where everyone has equal importance in the story. That’s the thing that feels quite rare, actually, there’s like six of you and they’re all as fucked up as each other. I remember your audition. You came in like a fireball and you already felt like you had a Sam energy. You sat in your chair, took out your script from your bag, and then you were like, “Give me a second,” and you laid out your script around you on the floor. You had no embarrassment about what you needed or in front of you. You didn’t actually refer to it again, but you took those few seconds to just completely set up what you exactly needed for that audition, and then you were so free. And I just wonder if you’ve felt that particular type of confidence your whole life?

BAILEY: That’s a really good question. I’ve got three older sisters and I wonder if they are a structure. I’ve definitely been in environments where I don’t feel free, and then you give the worst performance of your life. What I’ve found in the last few years is that, of course, you have to adapt so quickly to work out what you need in order to be able to be free. I think if I don’t have the equivalent of that on the floor, I panic or get really scared.

WALLER-BRIDGE: There’s something about that, which is being able to play dangerously in a safe environment. I feel like that’s got so much to do with an understanding of tension, which I think you have. You’re like a chemistry machine. Obviously, with Bridgerton and then in Fellow Travelers, there’s this incredible erotic energy that people are so excited about.

BAILEY: I really think it comes from Crashing.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It doesn’t come from Crashing, it comes from you. I think you’re the king of tension. I think you understand what that is.

BAILEY: I think you can give yourself butterflies, can’t you?

WALLER-BRIDGE: Is that what you’re looking for, the butterfly all the time?

BAILEY: Yeah, I’m always looking for my butterfly farm. The misty, slightly smelly greenhouse full of butterflies.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s your tummy?

BAILEY: Yeah, that’s my tummy.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Did you always dream of playing leading man roles growing up?

BAILEY: Not at all, no. I never thought I would be able to.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Why?

BAILEY: I’ve realized that I’m completely in awe of other people and performances and creative endeavors. I go to the theater and I love a performance and I’m like, “How do they do that? I can’t see the seams.” So therefore, I feel like I must be driven by that. And when something comes my way, there’s a fear that it won’t work.

WALLER-BRIDGE: What’s really exciting to me is when I see palpable dynamics between characters, which you have done multiple times, like the relationship between Tim and Hawk. There’s so much opportunity for intimacy and that kind of danger. And when you get to play those sorts of roles, when you know that you can stand in front of each other and you don’t really need to do anything because it’s giving you something, it must’ve just been a joy walking into this world because it’s like a banquet of stuff to play with, right?

BAILEY: Totally, and it feels sort of vital and sexy. I do remember this one memory, which I guess I’ll share with you now. I did play and there was a tiled wall,at eye level with a mirrored border around. And there was a guy, we were into each other, and I remember just looking up in the middle of a conversation and he was looking at me in a reflection. And I was like, “This is what life is about.” Anyway, I think that it must have something to do with feeling the most alive in that.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you know Esther Perel?

BAILEY: Yeah, I love Esther Perel.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So she’s written about how she believes that your next orgasm begins at the very end of your last one, which is basically our whole life just building up to our next orgasm.

BAILEY: That’s just fantastic. It’s just so positive and hopeful—

WALLER-BRIDGE: And so beautiful, isn’t it?

BAILEY: It is.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Everything that you encounter in your life, every conversation that you have, is in some way building up to the next euphoric physical experience. Every single character has to have that inside them one way or another, because every human does. And I think with Fellow Travelers, because you long for them so much as an audience and you want them to have everything that they want from each other, but they’re also brutal to themselves and to each other, there is something so extraordinary seeing characters in that time portrayed in the way that you guys have portrayed them.

BAILEY: One thing that we’re all born with is the sense of longing. Longing comes before anything else, doesn’t it? Whoever you put on the wall, laminate the poster or whatever, it’s there. And actually, if you long for someone, more often than not you don’t think you are worthy of it. And that, to me, is a way into characters.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you remember your laminated poster longing person?

BAILEY: I think I had the Simpsons, which was obviously me trying to disguise myself as much as possible. Lucy Liu was a big one for me, too.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Well, I can see that.

BAILEY: I suppose there’s the laminated wall in my literal bedroom and then there’s the laminated wall in my gay—

WALLER-BRIDGE: Mind.

BAILEY: Who was yours?

WALLER-BRIDGE: You know what? It’s really interesting, because I was the eagle in the Rescuers Down Under. That wasn’t necessarily a sexual longing, but it was a romantic idea, that overwhelming sense of watching the Rescuers Down Under and being able to run out of the back of my house on my own, age 10, and jump onto the back of a giant eagle and he’ll fly me around. But in terms of just a hottie that I really fancied, I think it was probably Leo [DiCaprio].

BAILEY: Oh, yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Are you a nostalgic person?

BAILEY: Yes, I think so. I think a lot about my younger self. I’m always like, “Guys, remember this?” It’s slightly annoying, but I’m always drawing a line between the past and now for sure.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s how you measure your life, by remembering the time that’s gone by or what 11-year-old you would think of what you were doing?

BAILEY: I think I’m probably more romantic than nostalgic, if that makes sense.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Go on.

BAILEY: Well, I just think I’ve fully committed to the idea of everything being brilliant and then I work backwards from there.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Well, having starred in two hit period dramas and also being a huge part of the fact that they are a hit, that’s why I wondered about what your relationship is with the past and history, and how much you actually knew about McCarthy America?

BAILEY: Oh, no. Have you got a quiz?

WALLER-BRIDGE: I actually don’t. Do you want one?

BAILEY: No, that would be the worst.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you enjoy historical novels? Do you live in the past in any way in your mind? Or you are kind of like, “We’re here and we’re moving forward?”

BAILEY: I do think I’m here and moving forward. I really struggled with history at school, I could not take in information about the past. When it came to exams, I would remember the page where things were written but I couldn’t stitch together epochs and eras and kings.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It crashes my brain, too. I have a friend, and you can say to her, “June 24th, 1999,” and she can tell you pretty much what she was up to.

BAILEY: That’s amazing.

WALLER-BRIDGE: You can see her go into the diary in her mind. She has a very different wiring of her brain. But speaking of longing, are there any fictional or real life couples, gay or straight, that captured your heart over the years?

BAILEY: Oh my god, what a question. What about Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling in Blue Valentine?

WALLER-BRIDGE: I think Morticia and Gomez Addams were the most romantic couple.

BAILEY: Yeah, I see that.

WALLER-BRIDGE: They understood it. They got it all.

BAILEY: Also maybe Ryan and Marissa in The OC.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Any gay male couples that you ever looked up to or were romanced by?

BAILEY: Well unfortunately, there just weren’t that many were there growing up.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So wild.

BAILEY: But I met Matthew Rhys recently, who I just love. And I was thinking about that relationship in Brothers and Sisters. And then there was Queer as Folk. Russell, T. Davies changed the game. So many people owe so much to him just purely for visibility. There is no Tim and Hawk to a 2023 audience without Queer as Folk.

WALLER-BRIDGE: But did you feel frustrated?

BAILEY: Well, speaking of history, I was doing media studies with an amazing teacher and I decided that I was going to do my dissertation about the representations of Hutus and Tutsis and the Rwanda genocide, looking at Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs. And then Brokeback Mountain came out and I was like, “Hang on, how can I possibly create a world where I can go and have a free pass to go to the cinema to watch it 10 times?” I’m really proud of my 17-year-old self, I wasn’t necessarily out, but I changed the topic to representation of homosexuality in Brokeback Mountain and I watched that film 10 times. And this amazing teacher, Dr. Brunton, who probably had an idea of what was going on, was just like, “This is brilliant, keep going, keep going.” And I think it was the best mark I ever got.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you still have it?

BAILEY: It must be on a hard drive upstairs in the attic. And obviously, that completely changed me, something chemical happened there. But it’s funny, I’m not clear on memories. And I do think it’s a common thing for a lot of people, growing up and having to survive and be basically in fight or flight, there’s a murkiness to how I recall.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Of course, because you couldn’t be truly present because you weren’t being completely yourself.

BAILEY: Totally, yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: When you look back and start unpacking it, do you feel overwhelmed with sympathy for how hard you were having to work as a 16-year-old, coming up with excuses to see the movie that you wanted to see?

BAILEY: Yeah. But I spent more time trying to be sympathetic towards the people that were around me who didn’t support or couldn’t help. I look back and I go, “Hell.”

WALLER-BRIDGE: Yes. But you are representing that and living that for so many people now. Your speech at the Critics Choice Awards the other day was so sublime and beautiful and straight from the heart. You are so electric as a human being and that is the most important thing. There aren’t many people in the world that can do that, that can stand there in front of people and speak from their heart about what it means to them to be given this opportunity. And I know that your career is just going to be the most extraordinary journey. When I first met you, I remember sitting with Josh [Cole], who was the producer on Crashing, and we were like, “If we get this guy, it’s going to be the game changer for the show.” And I know that every single person now wanting you on their project is feeling the same thing.

BAILEY: I definitely feel overwhelmed by that, but it’s lovely to hear.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Can I just ask you one question which I couldn’t remember about Crashing?

BAILEY: Yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: The frosted tips were your idea, wasn’t it?

BAILEY: I had this conversation today. I think it’s in the script. But my reference picture was Justin Timberlake in double denim.

WALLER-BRIDGE: No, I don’t think it was [in the script], because Sam’s a character that I hold closest to my heart because, in so many ways, he represents how I feel about maybe my inner life. I just love him so much, and your ability to play every single little corner of him that I dreamed of.

BAILEY: Maybe that’s the answer I was looking for when you asked if I was drawn to any romantic couples? No, it was just about wanting bleach blonde hair.

Source

#jonathan bailey #phoebe waller bridge #jonny bailey #interviews #interviews:2024 #interview magazine #interview magazine interview #fellow travelers #crashing #NEW!

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emsgwenstan · 3 months

Text

Personal or professional?

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader

Chap 5| chap 6| chap 7

Words: 3k

Warnings: insecurity’s, swearing.

Note: another fill in chapter… this gif☝️is the look she gives Violet about the door lol.

Well it’s official, It’s the 12th of December and my dreaded birthday, another year of being alive, I guess I should be grateful but only 2 hours until I can go home and sleep! Jesus I really am getting old. I do wish I could see Larissa today but I don’t want to disturb her, we have been texting since that day which was three days ago now, I drove her home that night and the next morning she sent me a message saying good morning and I thought that was really sweet, but this morning she hadn’t said anything, I don’t need to read into it though, I just hope I haven’t done anything wrong. My phone started to ring in my pocket and just when I thought it was her I was wrong.

*Louise*

“Happy birthday vi!” She yelled.

“Thanks Lou.” I said chuckling.

“Happy birthday vi.” I heard jades sultry voice say on the other line.

“Oh yeah jays here too.” Louise said.

“Wanna wish auntie vi happy birthday?” She added.

“Happy birthday auntie violet!” Lou’s daughter lily shouted.

“Aww thanks guys, how is everyone?” I asked.

“Yeah we’re all pretty good, how are you though? You’ve been pretty quiet… perhaps finally found someone?” Louise said teasingly.

My face burned, how am I supposed to say yes I’ve met and fallen in love with someone, we’ve had sex and yet we’re still in a what do they call it now? situationship? Friends with benefits? Let alone it being with a woman- not that they’d be very surprised.

“I have been getting out more and no I’m not with anyone.” I said.

“Let’s hope you find someone vi we don’t want you to be alone forever.” Jade said in a sing song voice.

“Shut the fuck up, says you your a hoe, a serial seducer.” I laughed.

“Ok lily go to your room for a minute.” Lou said.

“Oh my god sorry!” I said.

“Aunt of the year award goes to Violet.” Jade said mockingly.

“Agh, anyway guess what?” I asked.

“What?.” “Mhm?” From the both of them.

“I’ll see you guys at dads this year.” I said.

“What! You’re actually gonna show up!?” Louise said.

“Yeah but I’m not gonna be alone, I’m bringing my… friend Larissa.” I said awkwardly.

“Ooooo Larissa.” They said in unison. I could just imagine them looking at each other knowingly.

“Please… anyway I’ll be there for a week then I’m going to see my mum.” I stated.

“We haven’t seen you for ages, oh and by the way dad has been such a dick lately, all he talks about is fucking golf.” Jade said.

“When isn’t he a dick, and that doesn’t surprise me, I’m not going for him though I’m coming to see you guys.” I spoke.

“Yeah well we will be there for like 9 days I think, we really need to go out all together again, I know I need to get hammered.” Louise said laughing.

“Agreed I know just the place.” I said.

“We know.” They both said giggling.

“Ok well I’m at work so I need to go but I’ll see you guys then ok?” I said.

“Alright we love you sis.” Lou said.

“Love you guys, tell lily and Lottie i love them to.” I said.

“Will do, bye.” She said.

“Bye.”

I went back to stacking lengths of timber in their designated racks and began to wrap up the rest of my stuff getting ready to come home.

Finally in the threshold of my house, I kicked off my boots and tore off my work clothes, it was so fucking hot I felt like I was suffocating. The heat was up so high last night because it was freezing and I forgot to turn it off this morning as well as having the fire going. Turning it off and keeping the fire going I went and jumped in the shower quickly to rinse off the sawdust and settle in for the night.

Hopping into bed I let my hair out of the tight ponytail it’s been in all day letting it fall over my pillow and just like that I passed out. It was only 6pm but I didn’t care it was much needed, although it wasn’t until a while later when I could feel my body slightly shaking that I awoke again. “Wake up darling.” A hushed voice spoke, I know that accent anywhere, why is she here? how is she here? I rolled over slightly with my eyes cracked open, Larissa was standing beside me with a hand delicately wrapped around my bicep.

“Good morning.” She teased. “What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” I asked sleepily. Larissa brought her hand to my face stroking my cheek lightly. “I did knock, but no answer. The door was unlocked, I should have rung you I’m sorry.” She said in haste. “No, no it’s fine you’re welcome you don’t even need to knock.” I said rubbing my eyes. Larissa smiled warmly. “Sit up for a moment I’ll be right back.” She said leaving the room. I’m still a little bit delirious wondering if this is even real or not, but the fact that I could feel her gave me every indication that it was. Slowly I sat up and realised I’m only wearing underwear, I clutched my duvet to my chest and sat cross legged against my head board.

Larissa waltzed back in with a large box in her hands, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor boards getting closer gave me more anticipation wondering what was going on. She perched herself on the edge of my bed and placed the huge box in my lap, it was a deep red with a crimson, satin bow on top. I looked at her with curiosity and a small smile. “Open it.” She said gesturing me to do so. Slowly I undid the ribbon and opened the box, I could smell it first, the large bouquet of red and dark red- almost black roses that lay on top. “Oh Larissa, these are beautiful.” I said plucking them out and smelling how heavenly they are. “How did you know these were my favourite… not just the flowers but the colours.” I asked jokingly. “I have my ways.” She said. I giggled at her and lay the roses next to me and continued to open the layers of tissue paper.

The next thing was clothing of some sort, pulling it up I gasped. “It’s beautiful.” I said astonished, the black dress was gorgeous, intricate black beads lined the off the shoulder cut out and strapped top, the thigh slit down the side and the cuffs of the sleeves. “Why did you get me this?” I asked incredulously. “Because you deserve it.” She said blatantly. “I’m afraid I don’t think it will fit.” I said solemnly. “It will, I promise.” She ensured moving the tissue further out of the way to indicate there’s more. Carefully I laid aside the dress as well and took out the next thing. A large black coat with fur around the hood, sleeves and bottom. My eyes lit up and I became speechless. Trying to catch a sneaky look at the tag, I didn’t find a price or size instead the words ‘Vivienne Westwood’ in scribed on it. “What the fuck.” I breathed, I looked at the dresses tag and the same thing was embedded.

“There’s more.” She said suggestively. I looked at her with wide eyes and put aside the coat. Underneath was a shoe box and another thing wrapped with tissue paper, I opened that first unraveling the fragile paper. My cheeks burned, when I came to relise it was lingerie, a set of scarlet red lace, a bra with matching panties. I admired them, running my fingertips along the intricacies of the material, I gave a shy and quiet thank you to Larissa and set them aside too. The last thing was the shoe box that made my breathing stop. ‘Cristian louboutin’ no fucking way.

Larissa could see my face at the sight of it, how much I was in shock and awe even without seeing what’s in it. I took off the lid and just about had a heart attack, slick black heels lay next to another adorning the familiar red bottoms. I turned to Larissa with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “How- why…I. Larissa I’ve wanted these shoes since I was 17!” I screeched. She grinned and put her hand on my wrist. “Happy birthday darling.” She whispered sweetly. Again I melted. “Oh rissa, I don’t know if I can accept these.” I said softly. “Yes you can, I wanted to give you something to make you feel beautiful, and I know that black makes people feel slimmer- not that you need to of course! I just…-god, I thought I could help you feel better about yourself and show you how beautiful you are my sweet.” She said feeling horrible at how that sounded. “No I understand, it’s very thoughtful of you. Most of my clothes are black.” I said smiling.

“And I think red looks gorgeous on you too.” She said. I immediately remembered that I wore a red bra that day and that’s what she was pertaining to. Larissa was very close it was harder to not be under her piercing gaze, I put the box next to me and wrapped my arms around her neck, slowly I leaned in and hoped she wouldn’t pull away, I placed a chaste kiss to her lips grinning into it. “Thank you lovely.” I said into her ear still hugging her. “You’re very welcome.” She said pulling back. “Now I hope it’s ok with you but I made reservations for 8:00, so go get changed into these and we can go get dinner?” She said questionably. “You didn’t!” I said. She stood from the bed and reached for my hands to help me up, I stood and covered my stomach feeling a little self conscious again.

Larissa grasped my wrists, moved them away and looked in my eyes. “Don’t hide from me darling.” She said placing another kiss on my forehead. She turned on the spot and left me to get changed. In the bathroom I painted on some make up opting for dark eyeshadow and lipstick a few shades darker than Larissa’s, I curled my collarbone length blonde hair and put on my gold necklace with a ‘v’ initial and a few rings from the dish on the sink. I slipped on the red lingerie with a smirk and then the dress, for a moment my heart sank when the sip at the back wouldn’t go up, but turns out it was just caught on the material, it slid up my back with ease. I slipped on the shoes and couldn’t stop the excitement that spread through my body as I did so.

Looking in the mirror, I stared at myself, I hadn’t even realised I had a waist, the shoes are what I kept looking at and my calf muscles that sculpted due to the height. Larissa carefully opened my bedroom door and walked up behind me, I looked at her in the reflection giving a timid glance, she pressed herself to my back and gently put her head on my shoulder and moved her hands to meet around my front, her palms smoothed out the fabric and stopped at the swell of my stomach. “You look stunning.” She said kissing my temple. “Thank you.” I said. “Shall we go?” She asked. “Yeah.” I grabbed the coat and put it on.

Going past the kitchen and hallway I grab my keys from the dish. “What are you doing?” She asked. I dangled the keys giving her the hint I’m driving. “No, I’m driving.” She said plucking them out of my hand and putting them back down. Larissa walked out the door and I followed behind her, she stepped to the passenger side and opened the door for me, I giggled at her chivalry. She walked to the other side and sat in the drivers seat. “Ooo the woman knows how to drive stick.” I said as a joke. “Yes I do, something else we have in common.” She said turning on the car and reversing out of the drive way.

Once she went thought the gears, Larissa placed her hand on top of mine and curled her fingers into my palm, the butterflies in my stomach were alive and well at this point, not that they ever go away when I’m with her. When she down geard and sadly removed her hand from mine it must have meant we’re close, but when I saw the place my eyes just about bulged out of my head. Larissa killed the engine and stepped out, just as I open the door she glared at me through the windscreen, I laughed throwing my head back and closed the door again. She made it to the other side and reopened the door extending a hand to me.

I stepped out onto a gravel driveway and kept a hold of her hand. She closed the door and started to lead me in the direction of the restaurant. “Wait.” I said stopping. Holding her hand I took off my shoes and started walking again until we made it to cement and put them back on. I looked at her confused face. “I want to savour and look after these shoes.” I said. “Oh.” She chuckled, we made our way up the grand steps to the front door. This place was about ten minutes out of town and secluded by trees, the building was a tan colour and had pillars surrounding it, pot plans and ivy covered the exterior, a red carpet rolled down the stairs and the large double doors open wide with a ‘please wait to be seated’ sign on the wall outside of them.

Larissa glanced at me as a young woman greeted us. “Hello ladies, booking name?” She asked. “Weems.” Larissa said. “Yes, right this way.” She lead us into a massive dining hall, intimate tables with candles and silver alike, chandeliers vaulted from the ceiling, paintings, even live music with people playing violins and other sweet sounding instruments, a dance floor- for those who actually dance, it was beautiful and it felt right to be here experiencing this with Larissa, if I came here without her, she would be the one I’d tell this place about. “Here you go.” She sat us in a green velvet booth and placed two menus on the table then left.

“I didn’t even know this place existed.” I said. “Do you like it?” She asked shrugging off her cream coat, Larissa was wearing a plum coloured silk blouse and a matching cream pencil skirt, my breath hitched at the sight of her, somehow she seemed nervous, the woman who exudes power, authority and confidence is nervous, but then again I know its not the first time around me, but as if I do that to her, its probably just because she wants me to have a good night. “Absolutely, I really don’t deserve this-.” “Yes you do.” She said cutting me off. I took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Any idea what you feel like?” I asked. We both went through the menu together, decided on our choices and ordered.

Larissa and I were having a conversation about what we both did today when we were interrupted by a man who seemed to know her. “Larissa, I thought that was you.” He said. She looked up and let out a sharp exhale through her nose forcing a tight lipped smile. “Mr jones, lovely to see you.” She said speaking though here teeth. “Likewise, I don’t see you out of that school often.” He said. Larissa bit the insides of her cheeks quite literally refraining herself from spitting a very unkind insult his way. “Yes well Marcus, I do have a life.” She said bitterly, if looks could kill. His line of sight went to me. “And who is this?” He asked. If it were anyone else, She would have felt compelled to say ‘oh forgive me how rude I didn’t introduce you sooner’ instead she kept her back handed behaviour. “This is violet Hastings, my very good friend… now if you don’t mind we would like to enjoy our dinner.” Her voice sounding like venom. “Nice to meet you, I suppose I should get back to my wife.” He said awkwardly leaving.

The silence was killing me. “Ok what was that?” I asked chucking. Larissa let out a huff and turned to face me. “That was Marcus jones, a sleazy twit… also a board member.” She explained whilst simultaneously taking a sip of the wine the waitress brought over. “He did seem a bit smug.” I said sidding with her. “He’s an imbecile, all he does is make my job harder and tries to deny my advances for the schools funding and changes.” She said twisting the stem of the glass on the table. “Not to mention, every Thursday night he goes and screws his assistant, how cliche.” She rasped, throwing back the remaining wine in her glass. I raise my eyebrows in response. “I was a bit harsh wasn’t I?” She asked grasping my thigh under the table. “No, because if it were me id have been worse, you did a great job.” I said. Larissa laughed. A real laugh. It was loud and turned a few heads, but I didn’t care id love to hear it again and again and again. She covered her mouth with her fingers trying not to do it again. She never fails to make me weak.

The dim lighting made her look even more delectable then she already is and I found myself staring at her. “What?” She asked noticing. “Your just…ethereal? I don’t even know how you real.” I said lowly. “Stop it.” She giggled looking down. “I don’t think you know how pretty you are Larissa.” I spoke. “I could say the same about you vi.” She said tightening her grip on my thigh. The waitress brought over our food and left us to eat alone again. Once we were finished a flurry of people went to the dance floor with each of their partners. “Would you like to dance violet?” She leaned in to whisper. “Oh I don’t dance.” I said. “Please?” She pushed. Looking in her eyes I tilted my head, I can’t say no to her. “Sure.” I said reluctantly. Larissa took my hand and guided me to the floor.

On perfect queue the music started, the tune was familiar, experience I think it was. Everyone began to slowly sway to the music as if their bodies were one, Larissa held onto my waist and brought my hand to her shoulder, I placed my free hand in hers and began to dance. She was wonderful, so free and loose, Larissa let herself succumb to the music and I did the same, the stronger the tune the more contrived the movements, Larissa spun me about like they do in those ridiculous romcoms but Christ it felt like I was in one, her gaze never faulted, eyes piercing into my own as if the whole world disappeared. When the music went softer Larissa braced her arms around my torso and I joined my other hand to her vacant shoulder and let my head rest in the crook of her neck.

"May I cut in?" A voice said behind my shoulder, as I turned there standing was that same halfwit Marcus, asking me to dance. I looked to Larissa for help, she said nothing only looking down at her feet. "Um...I-." I began about to reject his offer. "Great!" He took my hand and I was dragged of with him, as a new song started I couldn't stop staring at Larissa, she stepped away sitting back at the table hardly watching what was going on, like the big ball of anger I am sometimes, I felt obliged to peruse my next move, as he was twisting me around like a monkey on steroids, I leaned back and stopped on his foot with my heel and elbowed him in the face. "Oh! my apologies I'm a horrible dancer.” I said with faux forgiveness. Immediately I ran back to Larissa.

"Why didn't you save me." I said sternly and out of breath. "You looked happy with him." She said fiddling with her fingers. "I beg your pardon? I’m sorry but if that's what I look like when I'm happy with someone then I must look insane when I'm with you." I expressed sitting down again. "Did you not just see what happened." I asked. "Yes, I must say it was a little entertaining." She said giving me a meek smile. "good. But why didn’t you do anything?” I asked. “I don’t know… I’m sorry I just thought-.” “It’s fine, I mean he had that coming.” I said. We sat together for a while and before I excused myself and went off to find the lavatory leaving Larissa at the table alone again.

*Larissa’s pov*

I’m so glad violet likes the gifts I gave her, she looks breathtaking, I feel deeply saddened that she doesn’t see herself through my eyes, but I do suppose no one sees their own beauty like others. I hope I didn’t take it to far when i gave her the lingerie, i just couldn’t help myself. Violet is an incredible woman, shes smart and witty, she’s kind and full of skills i could only dream to obtain, she makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room as if i were so interesting, a 48 year old who lives and breathes to work and is unbelievably stubborn, something else we have in common i think. I adore all the things about her she views as flaws but somethings telling me that there’s still more to her, but in time i hope to learn them all.

I feel so guilty I did nothing to stop that asshole from taking Violet away from me, I thought we had a special moment, I guess my own insecurities came to play, the last time I danced with somebody I was with mortica and that didn’t end well, why would it with her?

I observed her as she came back to the table, her legs are stunning and she can definitely walk in heels, i do find that people our height can do a good job in them if i do say so myself, I’m pleased that she insists on taking care of them, even if she didn’t id just buy her a new pair. Before she sat i offered to take her home, we had been here well over two hours and thought she would appreciate actually going home. “Sure.” She said. I stood and draped my own coat over my shoulders and placed my hand in the small of violets back to go and pay. As already anticipated she tried to debate on who was paying but in the midst of it i handed the poor waitress my card, the glare i received when violet heard the beep on the machine was endearing, she did look as though she could physically hurt me but i kept my laughter at bay.

Exiting the restaurant, violet stopped and moved her head to gaze at the stars above, it was very beautiful, no light pollution, no noise, just the stars, moon, violet and I, although i found my view much better than hers. The reflection in her eyes and the soft glow of the out side lights from the restaurant made her impossibly more beautiful, that doesn’t even sound like the right word, but it will do.

*violets pov*

The sky was extraordinary I haven’t seen it like this for a while, but my gaze was cut short when Larissa ushered me to the car and opened my door again. On the ride home I placed my hand in her lap playing with the material of her skirt, I was so relaxed that I eventually fell asleep, the soft hum of the radio and the smell of her perfume lulled me to dose off. Larissa opened my door and gently coaxed me awake and let me rest against her side as she walked us inside.

By the time we made it to my room I had woken up a bit more and turned to Larissa. “Are you ok?” I asked. “I’m fine.” She said. I took off my heels and placed them inside my robe out of the way, I saw her looking down at the floor as she sat on the edge of my bed. Trying to find a way to lighten the mood I reached for my small speaker and turned it on, flicking through my phone I found a song to play, set down my phone and pulled her to stand. Larissa looked at me confused wondering what’s going on, I placed her hands around my neck and I locked mine around her waist and pressed my body to hers.

I hummed along to the tune and swayed to the slow rhythm, Larissa rested her temple on my forehead and sighed. “I don’t dance for just anyone you know.” I whispered in her ear, I could see the small smile across her face. “Violet?… why are you doing this?” She asked still wrapped around me. “Because you deserve to know that you’re cared for to, because you’re special and you would do the same for me.” I said. Larissa was quiet after that, but she did grip me a little tighter and breathe a little deeper.

After the song stopped I paused it and started to get changed. Larissa offered to drag down my zip, I stepped out of my dress and picked it up hanging it neatly inside the wardrobe. Just as I was about to enter the ensuite to change Larissa’s voice rang through the air. “Wait!” She said. I turned on the spot and looked at her flickering eyes and ridged stance, I was silent waiting for her to continue. “I-I… was wondering if you could just… stay- in what you have on.” She mumbled. My eyes widened at her ask, my stomach riddled with butterflies.

Larissa’s gaze met mine and slowly she stepped out of her heels, removed her coat and pulled off her blouse and skirt, only left standing in her underwear. My gaze never left her, not once, I don’t recall I actually blinked to be frank. “Is it ok if I stay?” She asked. I paced back towards her and discarded the clothes I’m not going to be changing into on the floor, I took ahold of Larissa’s hand and threw back the covers of my bed and crawled in before her. I found a comfortable position on my side and laid out my right arm for her to rest her head on, to which she did.

There were no sounds, no interruptions, no one else but us- half naked and left in only undergarments, Larissa’s long limbs were intertwined with my own and the way she studied my face made blood rush to my cheeks, I did the same though- studied her that is, stroking her hair and tracing unknown shapes along her jaw and lips, especially over her scar. “What are you thinking?” I whispered, Larissa’s eyes fluttered to mine. “It’s silly.” She hummed softly. “Tell me? I’m sure it’s not.” I said back. “I’ve not been this… close to a normie before.” She expressed. I adjusted my head a little. “And what does that mean to you, is that a good thing or a bad thing?… are you saying that your view on me would change if I were?” I said sitting up a little. “No of course not i just mean, I haven’t been exposed to any normie that has been… well, like you.” She said sheepishly.

I sat mulling over the conversation, on one hand it’s disheartening to hear that she hasn’t been accepted due to the fact of being an outcast, and on the other I suppose she still hasn’t… “I know that was rather odd of me to bring up but it was just something that I had been thinking about, it’s nice to see that normies and outcasts can be civil.” She murmured. I felt a tinge of guilt gnaw in my stomach, just wait for the right time Violet. “No I get it, really, especially since you dedicate your life to ensuring your students feel accepted for who they are.” I said laying back down.

For a while it was quiet and peaceful, Larissa was the one who fell asleep first, but as I rolled over she slightly roused earning an almost incomprehensible statement. “Happy birthday Violet, my sweet sweet girl.” She left her head against the back of my shoulder and pulled me by the waist to rest against her front. “I love you Larissa.” I breathed but with no response I knew she had fallen asleep.

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar

@giogwensversion @sabraaabra

@readingtheentrails @readingtheentrails

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #gwenchrist(ie)#larissa x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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inadaydream99 · 8 months

Text

Even When You Were Invisible

Based on the movie The Princess Diaries (2001)

NCT Dream Jisung x fem reader, fluff

A/N - so I recently rewatched The Princess Diaries and just had to write this into a oneshot. This focuses more onto the budding romance side-plot of the film, so I’ve taken some liberties and adapted the narrative a bit. This is also unedited for now - please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes!

Disclaimer: I have used a direct quote from the film which is in italics. I am not trying to replicate the film, just use the plot as inspiration. I do not take any credit for this plot. This does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Jaemin’s character does not reflect him and is purely to fulfil the shallow character he plays. Mild use of language (like 5 swears, maybe??)

“How’s my baby?” You gleam at Jisung, catching him off guard from where he’d been so focused on tinkering around with the car engine in front of him. He bolts upright beside you, quickly grabbing hold of the car bonnet and slamming it down before reaching into his pocket to pull out the rag he uses to wipe off the engine oil from his hands.

“All good.” His voice comes out strained, watching as your smile somehow grows wider. He observes the way your hand smooths over the shiny baby blue metal of the car, gazing into the way it reflects your loving expression.

“Well, she looks amazing.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his, watching the way his Adam’s apple bops. “Thank you, Sungie.”

“Oh, it was really no problem…” he gushes, playing down all the turmoil your precious car has given him over the last few weeks. Not that Jisung ever plans on telling you about all the extra hours he’s spent fixing up your car for you. He doesn’t mind at all. He spends most of his free time at the garage anyway because his band is also allowed to practice there in return for Jisung helping out repair some cars.

It’d be a dead giveaway to all of the feelings he has towards you and he also knows you’d insist on paying him extra for his time if you knew when you’ve already put every penny of your savings into repairing the car you’d worked so hard to get.

Besides, with the way you look at him now, radiating so much adoration, Jisung feels it’s more than enough compensation for his hard work.

“You’re the best!” You reach out to ruffle his hair the second he ducks his head shyly from your compliment. Whispered giggles tumbling from his lips as his cheeks burn. “Can I pick her up tomorrow after school?” You shine those big doe-like eyes at him.

“No problem.” Jisung nods, smiling warmly. And he watches you skip out of the garage with so much excitement, shouting a “see you at school!” over your shoulder. Just as you have left his line of sight, Jisung is called over by his band mates for practice. And while they spend the rest of the evening playing their songs, Jisung continues to replay your interaction over in his mind. Damn, he’s down bad for you.

You reach home quicker than usual, thanks to the spring in your step from Jisung’s amazing work with your baby. You’re so unbelievably excited to finally be able to drive your dream car. You’ve wanted a baby blue mustang since you can remember, so you’d scraped all of your savings from your part time job together to buy the old beaten up car and payed the garage where Jisung works to make your car dreams come true.

“That you honey?” You hear your mom call as you walk further into your house. She sends you a smile over her shoulder when your bag clatters onto the kitchen table. Picking up an apple from the fruit bowl as you watch her refocus on the painting before her.

“Did you get another commission?” You speak through half-chewed apple.

“Uh-huh.” You mom hums, placing down her brush carefully onto the tray beside her easel before turning to you. “Who knew posting my art online would rake in so much work?”

“I did.” You tease, taking another bite of your apple.

Your mom shakes her head at you while rinsing her hands in the sink. All the while, you push yourself away from the counter, grabbing your bag to begin heading to your room.

“(Y/N), wait!” Your mom calls just as you reach the stairs. “Your grandmother called today. The live one.” Your mom adds upon seeing your shock.

“The one I’ve never met?” You tilt your head in confusion, bushy eyebrows furrowing. “What would she suddenly want?”

“She said she wants to have tea with you after school tomorrow.” Your mom explains. “Something about important news she needs to share with you.”

“Oh, I was supposed to pick up my car tomorrow… but I guess I’ll have to rain check.”

That was two weeks ago now and little did you know at the time how much your life was about to change.

The following afternoon, when you’d arrived at your estranged grandmothers house - or should you say mansion - you’d had your world flipped upside down.

“A-a Princess-” your mouth hangs agape, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. Your eyes dart around the room, looking from your grandmother to her staff, then the security, before finally landing back on your grandmothers perfectly calm expression. She’s not joking. “No no no nonononono." You shake your head.

“You’ve got the wrong person. I’m the furthest thing from a princess. Look at me!”

As it turns out, they did not have the wrong person. Your father, who you’d never met, had been heir to the throne of the small European country you’d never heard of and after his death, that left you - his only child - next in line.

You’d come to an agreement with your grandmother that, before anyone made any rash decisions, you’d give it some time to try out the role of Princess. And so commenced the ‘Princess training’ every day after school with your grandmother. You’d learn how to walk, talk, sit, stand and live like a true Princess within the agreed trial month between this life altering news and the annual independence ball.

Sworn to secrecy, you’d not told a soul about your new informed identity. So, while your private life has somehow changed in every single way, your school life has not budged an inch. From the hours of 8-3 you’re the same invisible girl, with your two bestest friends since kindergarten, Jisung and Chenle.

“Woah, he’s so dreamy.” You gush, resting your chin in your palm as you watch Jaemin walk past your lunch table. Jisung simply rolls his eyes at the way you simp over the most popular guy in school, like always. He doesn’t get the hype around Jaemin. So what if he’s the captain of the football team, extremely lean and always seems to have perfectly shiny hair? Anyone could have all of those things. Jisung could have all of those things…

Despite the fact that he’s almost flunking gym class because of his terrible hand-eye co-ordination in football.

Jisung feels his only consolation is that Jaemin is dating Nina, the head cheerleader.

“Anyway…” Chenle speaks a little louder, “as I was saying before (Y/N) let her hormones take away from the crisis at hand. How am I going to get another guest for my show on Saturday?”

Ah yeah, you were trying to console Chenle on his last minute drama. His school curricula radio show, Talking with Chenle, had finally been getting more than three listeners a week. And ever since his audience has started to slowly grow, he’s been putting more and more pressure on himself to promote the topics he cares about with guests.

“Dude, chill. You still have four days to find a replacement.” Jisung grumbles from beside you. He looks a little like he’s sulking, although you have no idea what could have possibly made him so annoyed within the last thirty minutes that you’ve been sat at your lunch table.

“So much help you are.” Chenle fires at the grumpy Jisung on your left as he stands from the table, slings his bag over his shoulder and storms off.

You turn your attention to said grump, frowning.

“That wasn’t nice Sungs.” You watch as regret consumes his face, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he mumbles a muted apology.

“So, are you collecting your car from the garage tonight?” Jisung finally builds up enough courage to ask you. He’s been battling in his mind for the last few days on how to bring this up, so he’s a little nervous, but tries his best to suppress the shyness that wants to win over.

“Oh I can’t.” You guiltily grimace. You feel terrible putting him off again, especially when you were meant to pick up your baby weeks ago. But, since you’ve been having your ‘Princess lessons’ everyday, you’ve had no time. “I’m seeing my Grandmother.”

“Again?” Jisung regrets how quickly the word slips out of his mouth. But you don’t seem offended, nodding yes in response.

“How about Saturday?” You quizzically raise a brow, biting down onto the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation.

“Saturday works…” You let out a breath in relief upon Jisung’s agreement. “…and maybe you can stay for a bit, hang out?” Jisung suggests.

“…it’s just my band are practicing that afternoon in front of a few people and it’d be great to have a bit more of an audience…” Jisung trails off, cutting off his word vomit just in time to notice the way your smile reaches your eyes.

“Sounds perfect.” You beam, just as the bell rings for class.

You were beyond nervous. Petrified, if you’re completely honest. Yesterday evenings ‘Princess lesions’ with your grandmother had turned out to be a head-to-toe makeover and you’d come out the other end of the evening looking like someone entirely different. Some may even say, like a Princess. Gone were your glasses, bushy eyebrows, your hair had been cut and the frizz tamed. To you, you look almost unrecognisable. To Chenle, you look amazing. But to Jisung, you look like the very thing you’d always swore you’d never want to be - a popular - and it scared him.

While you liked your new look, you felt like a bit of a sellout for complying with the makeover to look more ‘regal’ - as your grandmother had described it. So you’d walked into your first class of the day wearing a grey bucket hat, so as to cover as much of your new look as possible.

Jisung had to do a double take when you entered the classroom and took your usual seat beside him. He’d always thought you were beautiful before, but wow, you’d somehow managed to ascend to another level quite literally overnight. From under the hat, he could see your bright eyes and long lashes. The neat shaping of your eyebrows and the plumpness of your lips, accentuated by the baby pink lip gloss you’d applied. Although, he’s unsure of why you’re wearing a hat on such a warm summers day, especially when you’re inside.

“Okay class, simmer down.” Your teacher, Mr Sums enters from the back of the room, hushing all of the excited chatter in the room as he places down his bag on the front desk and begins to set up for the class. “Yes, Nina?” He acknowledges without so much as glancing in her direction.

Nina sat in the seat behind you, perfectly poised and ready to strike. She’s the head girl in your grade for a reason, with her off-scale intelligence, popularity and cunning attitude. She will take down anyone who gets in her way. Which, right now, is your hat covered head that’s in her line of vision to the front of the class.

“Mr Sums. Isn’t there a rule about no hats allowed?” You can feel her smirk on the back of your neck, letting out a concealed huff as you try to prepare yourself for what you know is going to happen next.

“You’re right Nina.” Mr Sums sighs, “(Y/N), please could you remove your improper dress coded attire?” He glances at you and your mortified expression, watching as you gulp down your nerves while simultaneously reaching up to reluctantly slip your hat off.

Out tumbles your perfectly smooth hair as it cascades down past your shoulders. Jisung’s eyes almost pop out of his head from beside you. Not that you notice, too busy being consumed by the gasps from your classmates.

“Oh wow.” You hear Nina laugh, “Look who’s trying to fit in now?”

Her sickly-sweet tone only makes your cheeks burn deeper and you try to sink into your chair.

“Well, I think (Y/N) looks stunning, actually.” Your head whips towards Jisung, grateful for him sticking up for you. You send him a thankful smile as class begins and everyone’s attention is turned away from you. For now.

“So what’s the deal with your sudden change of appearance?” Chenle questions as he shovels his salad into his mouth. His words come out slightly muffled between the half-chewed lettuce and Jisung just rolls his eyes.

“Nothing.” You try to shut down the topic, bowing your head into your own lunch.

“It’s clearly not nothing.” Chenle deadpans, before narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re hiding something.”

“Am not.” You grumble into your sandwich.

“So you’ll be coming to my baseball game after school then, like we agreed weeks ago?”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten about Chenle’s baseball game and you know for certain you can’t get out of seeing your grandmother.

“I can’t.”

“See!” Chenle drops his fork into his salad, folding his arms as he turns to Jisung for support. “What? Are you just bored with us now? Don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“No, that’s not even close!” You cry in distress.

“Then tell us what’s so important that you keep dropping us (Y/N).”

You bite down on your jittering bottom lip, your worried eyes casting from Chenle’s unimpressed expression to Jisung’s concerned one.

“I’m not allowed to tell…”

Upon this half-confession, Chenle drops his attitude and leans across the table to speak quieter.

“Are you in trouble? Being blackmailed again? Do we need to beat someone up?”

“No!” You shut down his conspiracies, hands flying up in surrender.

You know you shouldn’t tell anyone. But you also know that if you don’t spill it all to them now, you’ll risk loosing the only people keeping you sane. Heaving a deep sigh, you know what you have to do.

“Okay. You have to promise me you’ll keep this strictly between us.” You point between your two intrigued friends, encouraging them to lean into the table so you can whisper. “I’m serious. The repercussions if this gets out-”

“Just tell us.” Chenle rolls his eyes.

To other students, it simply looks like your gossiping like any other group of high schoolers. But if they were to look closely enough, they’d notice the way both Chenle and Jisung’s eyes blow wide and how the colour seems to drain from Jisung’s face faster than lightening.

“You’re a what-” you cover Chenle’s mouth before he has a chance to shout anything further, covering it with a “Shhhhh.”

“Promise this stays between us.” You stick your pinky finger out for them to link, watching as both of your friends entangle theirs around yours.

“Damn. Wish I could be a…” Chenle begins to mutter.

“Dude!”

Walking into school the next morning feels a little more unnerving than usual. You’re barely through the threshold of the gates when someone spots you and shouts “that’s her!”.

Everything’s a blur from that moment. With a frenzy of people shouting “Princess!”, a crowd of students swarm you in seconds, phones and cameras are flying in front of your face as they all take pictures and videos. You feel nauseous from being elbowed and shoved in the midst of the unfolding chaos. However, just when you think your about to spew your guts from the motion sickness, you feel a pair of hands find your waist and clutch onto you, wrapping you into the taller frame of your saviour and using their body as a shield until you’re safely out of the crowd.

“Follow me.” Your saviour moves you away from their hold, clutching onto your hand and forcing you to run as you’re dragged along behind them to a place of refuge. You’re pulled into the main building and twisted through the narrow corridors until there’s no one on your tail.

It’s not until you’re hidden inside a janitors closet that you’re able to look at the person before you and realise it’s Jisung.

“How do they know!” You rush back into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and burying your face. Jisung is winded a little from the impact, tumbling a few steps back with you before he regains his balance.

“It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.” He whispers into the top of your head, fluttering his eyes shut as he inhales the floral scent of your freshly washed hair.

Of course, Jisung has no idea how your secret had gotten out, or what to do next. All he knows right now is how perfectly you fit in his arms and how much he wants to protect you.

“I want you to know, it wasn’t me.” You pull away from Jisung, peering into his worried eyes. You’d never once doubted it would have come from him and there’s nothing more in the world you want right now than to let him know that. Cupping his cheek, you brush your thumb over his soft skin.

“I’d never even consider that being a possibility.” You soothe.

Jisung drinks in every drop of affection you give him as though he’d been traversing the desert for days on end without water. Knowing you never could have accused him rehydrates him and makes his heart feel like it could burst.

“It wasn’t Chenle either. I was with him all evening after his baseball game.”

“I don’t doubt him either.” You reassure. “This feels bigger than just some school gossip.”

After cooling down in the janitors closet for a while, you’d managed to sneak out and into your first few classes of the day without too many people bombarding you. Your principle had made an announcement to not cause another commotion and all staff were on patrol during lesson changeovers and breaks.

“Wait, (Y/N)!” You turn to find Chenle forcing his way to the front of the cohort of students following you, instantly linking his arm with yours as you continue to uncomfortably make your way to class surrounded by your new admirers. “You’re an overnight sensation!” He beams, loving the attention on you both.

“Tell me about it…” you mumble, juxtaposing Chenle in every way. Unlike your friend, you’re not made for the limelight. You don’t like all the attention on you. Not now, not ever.

This was one of your biggest fears about people finding out you’re a Princess.

“So, you’ll be my special celebrity guest on Talking with Chenle this Saturday, won’t you?”

Your mouth gapes, finally making eye contact with him and ready to outright refuse. Until, you see how hopeful he looks.

Damn it. There’s no way you can turn him down.

“Sure…” you sigh, unable to hide the small smile that forces its way onto your face when he jumps in excitement.

“You’re awesome!”

“(Y/N)!”

You’re just closing your locker when you hear your name, your heart picking up pace from the unmistakeable voice of your caller.

Spinning around, you find none other than Jaemin, smiling at you with his signature smile and staring at you with those heart melting eyes.

“How are you holding up? Been a bit of a crazy day…” He leans one arm on the locker beside you, standing so close you can smell his earthy cologne.

“Just a bit.” You giggle sweetly.

It’s amazing how Jaemin can have such an affect on you. One word and your mind has gone to putty and you’ve forgotten how to act like a normal person.

“Well, I just wanted to apologise for Nina this morning…”

“Huh?” You furrow your brows, feeling yourself come back down to earth.

“She was the one who shouted when you entered the gates and made everyone swarm you?” Jaemin’s tone comes out unsure, not realising that you weren’t aware when you let out a light “oh.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I do not condone that at all. In fact, I broke up with her because of it.”

“You did?” You gush, surprise written all over your face.

…and you’re off in space again.

“Yeah, it was totally not cool.” Jaemin nods. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the end of school beach party with me this Saturday?”

Oh my gosh! Na Jaemin just asked you out!

“Yes!” You blurt. “I-uh I mean, yeah” you swallow, “sounds cool.”

“Cool.” His smile reaches his eyes. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

You watch dreamily as Jaemin walks away to join his group of friends at their lunch table. You’re only pulled back into reality when you spot Jisung perched on the edge of the fountain across the courtyard.

“Guess who just asked me to go with him to the beach party this Saturday!” You park yourself next to Jisung on the ledge of the fountain. “Jaemin!” You squeal your answer when Jisung simply raises an inquisitive brow at you.

“But, what about seeing my band practice?” Jisung tries to not sound depleted.

“Well, I was hoping we could reschedule? I just, I’ve been wanting to go out with Jaemin since forever and you’ll have other band practices, right?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Jisung forces a smile, feeling himself deflate the second you’ve squeezed him in a tight hug before skipping off to get some lunch.

His attention flickers over to the table where Jaemin sits. How could Jisung ever compare? He’d always felt you were unattainable to him because of how he was too shy to express his feelings. And that was before your new look and title. But now? He has no shot.

You’re a Princess for goodness sake. You belong with the most popular guy in school. Not a shy keyboard player in a band that sings in the local garage like him…

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” Your grandmother rushes to you as you arrive for your ‘Princess lesson’ of the day. She takes you by your shoulders and peers at you intently.

“Now,” she exhales a deep breath. “We’ve got the press under control with the looming promise of the annual independence ball, so long as they keep a little distance for now.”

You nod in understanding.

You were honestly a little nervous about seeing your grandmother this evening. You’d been worrying about her reaction to this all getting out, even though she is calm and has dealt with an unimaginable amount of trials and tribulations during her many years of reign. She is also strong willed and has made it clear to you that - even though you have yet to make the choice to accept your title and duty - the expectation of this trial period would be as though this is your future.

“And we’ve found that the leak was from the stylist we’d hired.”

There’s more relief in knowing your Grandmother knows it hadn’t come from you than there is from the culprit being found out.

“And we’ve got him doing a formal apology to the press this evening.”

Saturday rolls around quickly and before you know it, you’re on your way to the beach party for your date with Jaemin. Everyone who’s anyone is there; dancing, sunbathing or cooling off in the ocean as the sun begins to set.

You feel a little awkward as you walk down the beach to join the other party-goers. It seems like it’s well underway already and you’re not typically one to mix with the crowd in attendance.

“Welcome to paradise.” You almost jump out of your skin upon hearing Jaemin’s voice from your side. You had been so engrossed in your awe of the scene in front of you, you didn’t notice he’d walked over. “I got you a drink.”

You accept the plastic cup, your fingers brushing accidentally with his. Chuckling a flustered thanks before taking a sip, you try not to be affected by his amused grin. He thinks you’re so adorable. How had you been kept so hidden before?

“C’mon.” You feel Jaemin’s hand slip into yours, gently tugging you along with him to head further into the crowd…

“Hello, welcome to Talking with Chenle.” Chenle professionally introduces when his fellow producer Mark signals they are live. “On todays show, we have a special interview with the newfound Princess and close friend of mine, (Y/N).” Mark hits the applause button.

“But, before our main guest’s appearance, we have a short segment on the upcoming senior class projects, presented by our very own Mark.”

Mark jumps in with his pre-written script, listing out the upcoming events for the semester. Meanwhile, Chenle checks his phone to see if you’ve tried to contact him about your whereabouts. Nothing. You should have been here 30 minutes ago…

Back at the beach party, you’re having the time of your life dancing with Jaemin. Uncontrollable laughter tumbling from your lips as he takes your hand and spins you around.

“Who knew you were such a good dancer?” You teasingly glance up at Jaemin as he leads you out of the crowd of dancers and to the side for some much needed air, your hand still firmly in his.

“Well, who knew you would make such a great dance partner.” He praises back, succeeding in making you flustered.

You cast a shy glance up at him through your lashes, still unable to believe that this is reality. You really are here with Jaemin, hand in hand in front of everyone. You feel like you should pinch yourself, just to double check your not dreaming all of this.

That is, until reality comes crashing down in a burning rage. What you’d simply brushed off as a plane flying above you, turned out to be a helicopter filled with paparazzi. It lowers, the wind from the propeller cutting off the party and almost knocking everyone off their feet as multiple cameras flash at you, trying their best to get a good snapshot.

You panic, a million questions buzzing around your mind. What should you do? How do you get away? But most of all, how did they know you’d be here?

“Quick, follow me!” Jaemin pulls you, both of you running towards the lifeguard shack at the back of the beach.

Once inside, Jaemin bolts the door shut and silence and darkness settle around you.

“I’m so sorry.” You plant your face into your hands as you fall into the chair behind you. Being chased by paparazzi - all shouting Princess at you - was not a part of your imagined date with Jaemin. And it’s mortifying to know that’s the reality.

“Hey.” You hear him whisper, his larger hands coercing yours away from your face. In the time you’ve been wallowing, Jaemin had made his way over to you and knelt down to your level so the first thing you see are his eyes and the way they catch the moonlight that filters in through the crack in the curtain covered window. “It’s not your fault.”

His sincerity mesmerises you and washes away your humiliation. How does he do it? How does he seem to know the exact right thing to say?

Meanwhile, Chenle’s radio show is crashing and burning live on air. The last forty-five minutes have been filled with Marks terrible jokes and ramblings and it’s all because of you.

“Alright, I’m off.” Chenle sounds defeated, taking off his headphones and making a stand from his chair the second the ‘live’ light goes dim.

Mark doesn’t respond, nodding his understanding as he watches his friend walk away. He knows it’s not his fault. Heck, Mark did everything he could to act on the spot and make the best out of the shit situation. Chenle is grateful for Marks loyalty and perseverance.

But damn, he still wishes you’d showed… they both do.

“Ok, I think they’ve given up.” Jaemin asserts, peaking through the curtain to find a dark and empty seeming beach. The relief that fills you has you following Jaemin out of the lifeguard shack without thought.

“Thank you for sticking by me, it means a lot.” You timidly smile at Jaemin, allowing him to take your hand in his as you begin to walk up the beach.

Before you have time to register, a bright flash snaps in front of you, the momentary blindness giving time for multiple lurking paparazzi to spring out from their hiding places and surround you both.

“Princess! Who’s your date?”

“Is this your boyfriend?”

“Princess, give him a kiss!”

The crowd shout as you panic, looking around to try and find an escape route.

You spot a slither in the sea of bodies and pull on Jaemin’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he complies to the crazy demands of the privacy invading press and scoops your body into his. His lean arms make your desperation to get away worthless and before you know it, he’s cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him.

With one final deer-in-the-headlights look at him, Jaemin crashes his lips to yours.

It takes you a few seconds to register what he’s doing, before you muster up the strength to shove him away and force yourself out of the circle.

You can’t believe he just did that.

“It’s really not that bad.” Jisung tries to console you.

You’re flopped over the table, head in your arms as you try to block out every piece of reality. After Saturday’s kiss fiasco, the picture had been posted everywhere. There was no escaping the horrifying image of your first kiss with Jaemin. No less because you’d always dreamt your first kiss with Jaemin would be magical, like something out of a fairytale. And while you may be a Princess, this feels nothing close to those magical Disney princess movies you adored so much growing up.

For starters, where is your fairy godmother? You could really use one of those right about now…

He can’t lie, Jisung’s a little heartbroken seeing the picture of you kissing someone else posted everywhere. He’s upset for you, knowing how much you hate the situation. But, selfishly, he’s more gutted for himself. That should be him in Jaemin’s place. In fact, if he’d been lucky enough to kiss you, the image wouldn’t have existed because he never would have done it in front of the cameras. Knowing that Jaemin used you to get his 15 minutes of fame angers him too. The first time he saw the picture online, his fists had clenched so tightly from the rage that bubbled up in his stomach his nails had left little crescent moons in his palms. And yet, he can’t bring himself to not look at the grainy image.

“Not that bad?” You retort. “Any hope I had of being Princess has gone down the drain.” You begin to sob.

“What’s my grandmother going to say?”

Jisung doesn’t realise how stern his face had been until he finally looks away from the picture to find your eyes peaking out from their hiding spot. His gaze softens in a heartbeat, his hand reaching out to instinctively rub your back.

From your peripheral, you recognise the group passing by and tear your gaze away from Jisung’s to find Jaemin and his friends snickering as they walk past.

“Hey (Y/N), great kiss.” Jaemin puckers his lips mockingly.

You’re not sure what hurts you more, having reality shred the mask to uncover his true, obnoxious personality to you or knowing how many years you spent pining over someone so shallow.

“Ugh.” You bury your face back into the safety of your arms, blocking out all daylight and - you hope - reality.

After a lot of pep-talk from Jisung, he finally managed to coax you into going to your next class. But it’s not until final period, when see Chenle enter the classroom, that you realise you hadn’t seen or heard from him since last week. You send him a smile when he makes eye contact, feeling confused when he frowns back before taking a seat on the opposite end of the room.

You find yourself casting glances in his direction throughout the class, hoping to catch him looking over at you at least once. But nothing. Not even a peep is sent your way.

“Chenle,” you chase after him. Barely five seconds after your teacher had dismissed class, Chenle had been out of the door and down the corridor. You’d had to sprint through the throngs of students just to get to him before he got out of the building. “Why’d you not sit with me?”

But your question is met with the biggest eye roll you’ve ever seen as Chenle continues to make his way out of the school grounds.

“Did I do something?” You press.

“Did you do something?” Chenle fires back at you, narrowing his eyes vehemently. “Try what you didn’t do!”

You’re dumbstruck.

“I have no ide-”

“My radio show Saturday?” Chenle sasses. Thank goodness you’re down the street by the time Chenle finally stops walking and begins exploding on you. “I had to listen to Marks lame jokes for an hour.”

“Oh my god! I’m so unbelievably sorry.” Your eyes go wide, mortified at how you’d completely forgotten about being Chenle’s guest. “I’ll make it up to you next time, I swear!”

“There won’t be a next time.” Chenle scoffs, turning away once again. “Oh,” he stops himself to mention one last thing. “and, just so you know, just because you a Princess now, doesn’t mean the only thing that matters is you.”

“Hey Sungs.” You mournfully approach where Jisung finishes polishing your car. The garage is oddly quiet, no music or clatter sounding in the usually busy space. No. Instead, it seems like it’s just you and Jisung here. “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby.”

“No problem.” Jisung sends you a half-smile as he hands over the keys. “She’s all yours.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” You warmly smile, but feel your mood drop when he doesn’t reciprocate like he usually does. There’s a silence that fills the space between you. You’ve never felt so awkward with Jisung before.

“Well… I better get going…” you try not to sound too deflated, jangling your keys in the air as you go to open your car door.

You watch as Jisung takes a step back from the car, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets as he wordlessly watches you.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You timidly look at Jisung, stopping yourself from clutching the car door handle in front of you. “You don’t think I think the only thing that matters is me, right?”

There’s a timidity to your tone that makes Jisung gulp. He knows all about the argument because Chenle had ranted down the phone to him for a hour after school and he can tell Chenle’s words have gotten to you. At the same time, however, he feels a little dumbfounded that you seem to only realise this now, after you’d had someone shout it in your face. It’s even more ironic you only ask Jisung of his thoughts when you are just about to take the finished car home. The very one that you’ve been stringing him along with for weeks. He knows he has to be honest with you.

“There were times when I would say I agree, yes.” Jisung nods. “I mean, you dropped me for Jaemin in a heartbeat and he’d never once given you the time of day before your Princess glow-up.”

“Right. I really should go…” you voice comes out hoarse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jisung feels terrible as you spare no more time getting into your car and starting the engine. It revs to life and roars as you drive away, leaving him alone once again. But the it sinks in how much you’d made him feel used. You’d chosen to walk away from the truth when you’d asked him for it. And Jisung can’t help but feel disappointed.

Walking through the halls the next day you feel so insecure. Groups of students stop their conversation to stare at you as you pass, their expressions unreadable, leaving you unable to tell if they are judging you or just fascinated.

Reaching your locker in the courtyard, your eyes light up in hope upon seeing Chenle a few doors down at his locker. You watch him until he notices you, forcing a meek smile his direction when he does. But instead of him smiling back and making his way over to you, he frowns and slams his locker shut before walking the opposite direction.

You self-consciously peer around, hoping no one had witnessed that rejection and your eyes light up when you spot Jisung.

“Jisung!” You call as he walks past. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. Instead, he picks up his pace and your eyes follow him as he catches up with Chenle. You turn back to focus on getting the right books out of your locker, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.

How had you managed to mess up so bad that your friends won’t even acknowledge you…

With tears still in your eyes, you enter your next class with your head hanging low. You can’t bear to look up and see your two friends, knowing they won’t speak to you. Instead, you rush to the back of the room and take the seat furthest in the corner.

But when you do eventually look up towards the front of the classroom, you catch Jisung glancing your way. He turns back to face the front a split second after. But there’s as hope that flows through you from catching the longing in his expression.

Maybe there’s still a way to win them back.

It’s taken a few days to figure out, but you think you know how to get your friends to forgive you. Starting with Chenle.

First you have to sneak up on him so he doesn’t get away when you try to talk to him, which from his avoidance of you the past week, has proven more challenging than you thought. But you do manage to corner him in class as everyone leaves for lunch.

“Chenle, I want to make it up to you.” You plea. “I just want everything to be right between us again.” While you’ve technically been successful in talking to him, he’s still refusing to look at you. “Tell me what I can do…”

This piques his interest.

“Stop being a Princess.” He flatly states. If only he knew…

That was actually something you’d been working on, deciding days ago that you don’t think you’re cut out for accepting royal duty as a Princess. You’ve already spoken to your grandmother about this and, despite her reluctance and assurance that you would be more than capable for the role, you’d come to a mutual agreement to make no public announce until the evening of the ball.

You wish you could tell Chenle, but you can’t break your promise to your grandmother. You’re done breaking promises you’ve made.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of attending the independence ball this Saturday?” You send him a hopeful beam.

You take his blank expression and lack of a quick response as a good sign and continue to persuade.

“It’s invitation only…”

Chenle sighs. Damn him and his weakness for exclusivity. Plus, he’s always wanted to go to a ball and he doesn’t know when he’ll get this type of opportunity again.

“Fine!” He caves. “You’re forgiven.”

You squeal, jumping into him to squeeze him in a hug. You feel his chest vibrate with laughter and look up to finally see him smiling.

“I missed you.” You gush as you pull away and begin walking down the hallway together.

“I know.” Chenle laughs heartily when you shove him and roll your eyes.

You finally feel like you’re on the right track. If you can get Chenle to forgive you, then you’re pretty certain Jisung will too. Now you just need to find him.

“Wassup bro.” Chenle greets Mark as you join his table for lunch. You’re familiar with Mark because he helps Chenle out with his radio show and you’ve always found him really bubbly and sweet on the few occasions you’ve spoken.

“Sup guys.” Mark greets you both warmly. “I see you’re back on speaking terms.”

“Yep.” Chenle responds through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about all of that.” You grimace towards Mark. “But I heard you’re on your way to becoming a comedic genius.”

“I think I’m good with sticking to the pre-scripted topics.” Mark laughs loudly.

“Oh, hey Jisung!” Chenle’s sudden shout almost makes you jump out of your skin.

You turn your attention to where Chenle looks to find Jisung casting an embarrassed side glance over to your table while trying to continue his conversation with one of his band mates Renjun.

You don’t really know Renjun, other than what you’ve observed. Even though he’s part of Jaemin’s popular group, he seems like a nice guy and there’s always been a part of you that’s been curious to know how he ended up with friends like Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck. All so loud and attention loving in comparison.

You watch as he bids Renjun goodbye and approaches, stuffing his hands into his pockets once he’s reached your table. It’s clear he doesn’t want to hang around…

“Aren’t you gonna join us for lunch?” Chenle snickers at his friend, his tone mocking at the way Jisung acts so hesitant.

“Actually, I-uh have,” Jisung gulps. “I have last minute band practice.”

“But you just said goodbye to Renjun?” Mark furrows his brows.

“Gotta go!” Jisung takes off as quickly as he can. He doesn’t look back when he hears you call after him, instead only ducking his head lower and picking up more speed. You have to run to catch him. Damn him and his long legs. You hate running.

“Jisung.” You pant, catching him by the arm and using all of your body weight to slow him down. He lets out a defeated sigh as he stops, knowing there’s no escaping having to talk to you now. “Please talk to me…” you beg, pleading with the best, saddest puppy eyes you can muster.

“What is there to say?” His voice comes of quieter than he wanted it to. He’s so hurt and upset with you and he wants to be able to express that. He usually can when it’s towards other people. But when it’s you on the receiving end, there’s just something that stops him. No matter how much you broke his heart.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have run away from what you’d said.”

Theres something in your words that makes him wake up and finally realise that he’s been running away too. Not just now. But for way too long. Jisung’s been running away from telling you how he really feels about you. For so long he’s talked himself into waiting for you to fall in love with him, to wake up and finally see that the person you should be with has been by your side the whole time. His feelings have been repressed and he’s forced himself to be invisible for too long. But he’s done with that now.

“Sungs, are you ok?” He blinks back into reality, not having realised he’d gotten caught up in overthinking for too long.

You watch him, wide eyed as he stands up straighter, determination written across his face.

“Actually, I have something I need to say.”

You nod, waiting intently.

“I’ve been an idiot for too long.” And… you’re confused. “I’ve let you walk all over me for years because I’ve been so in love with you.”

“Heck,” Jisung laughs at himself. “I even let you off when you ditched me for Jaemin because I kept telling myself that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

You feel your heart break knowing Jisung had been putting himself down like that. Any and every emotion courses through you as you try your best to take in the weight of his words.

“I-” you begin, but Jisung cuts you off before you have a chance to say anymore.

“I know you don’t feel the same… it’s ok.” Jisung forces a smile. “I just need some time apart.”

You feel like you’re suffocating, unable to voice anything as you watch Jisung walk away. Chocking on sobs as the weight of the world hits you like a ton of bricks.

You just wished you’d realised sooner. Because if you had, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost your best friend, you wouldn’t have hurt him for so long and maybe you wouldn’t have had your heart smashed to pieces like you just have.

“Can’t you just have someone do the speech for me?” Your voice is muted by the duvet that you insist to remain under. Your mom perched on the side of your bed as she encourages you to at least go downstairs to eat something.

It’s the morning of the annual independence ball and you’ve not left your bed since you’d gotten home the day before.

You’d had many home truths and realisations from Jisung yesterday. But cocooning yourself inside your duvet has really helped you process a lot. Like the fact that you love Jisung too… and not in just a platonic way. He’s always been there for you and you’ve taken that for granted.

You’ve been so dumb to your feelings for so long, brushing infatuation off as excitement or just that you really care for Jisung, when reality is that your heart doesn’t flip every time he smiles just because he’s your best friend. It flips every time he smiles because his smile is one of your favourite things in the world. It eases your worries and brightens your day.

Just being around Jisung makes you feel like everything’s going to be ok. He’s always so supportive and soft-natured. He takes care of you not because he’s a good friend but because he loves you.

You know that if he were to be here today, you’d be able to get through your speech this evening, facing crowds of people and answering to them why you are abdicating your royal duties. With Jisung by your side, you can get through anything.

Without him you’re lost.

Similarly, Jisung has been trying to drown out reality since he confessed to you by focusing all of his energy on his band practice and fixing up cars. He went straight from school to the garage and worked through the night to try and get his mind off of you.

Which is why he jolts awake to Chenle shouting in his ear for him to “wake up!”

“Why!” He cries, rubbing his sore neck from the poor posture of his sleep on the couch by his band’s equipment.

“You seriously slept here last night?” Chenle doesn’t hold back any judgment, raising his brow at Jisung as he grumbles out unintelligible remarks under his breath.

“I get you’re heart broken or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you should give up now.”

“Well, what else should I do?” Jisung, still sat in the chair he’d slept in, sulks like a child.

“Uh, I don’t know, go after her?” Chenle retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But she doesn’t feel the same, I’d just be making a fool of myself…”

Chenle scoffs. How does he not see it?

“Of course (Y/N) feels the same. It’s so obvious.” Chenle leans down to place his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve had to watch you both almost every day for years.”

He’s not joking. He really has. All the times he’s rolled his eyes at the way you both act so soppy towards the other. You’ve both been too wrapped up in either convincing yourself that you have no shot, or mistaking your feelings to notice.

Jisung springs to his feet. With the way Chenle remains so serious, he knows he must be telling the truth.

“I need to win her back!”

You frantically pack, shoving everything you can into your bag before anyone catches on to what your about to do. You feel so hopeless, like a complete failure and you know you can’t face the crowd of influential people and reporters to decline your role of Princess. So you’re running away.

You’d managed to convince your grandmother to not send a limo because your mom wanted to take you to your first ball. And you’d also lied to your mom, telling her that your grandmother had organised a limo to pick you up.

As soon as your mom had left, the race against time had begun and you’d been flying around your room packing.

You pick up the embossed faux-leather diary your grandmother had gifted you when you’d first met and found out you were a Princess, stilling when it slips from your grasp and falls open to reveal a letter that had been tucked in between the pages.

Carefully picking it up and unfolding it, you realise it’s from your father before he passed away.

His heartfelt words bring tears to your eyes as he expresses all the love he has for you and his country as soon to be King. But the final line strikes something within you that makes you rethink everything you had planned to do.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you’ll be travelling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”

Helping Jisung come up with a plan to win you back is easy for Chenle. With the independence ball being that evening, nothing could be more perfect than Jisung turning up, declaring his love and sweeping you off your feet. Just like a true Prince. So he’d offered the plus 1 you’d given him to Jisung.

Waiting in the grand hall for your arrival feels like an eternity. Everyone seems to be here except you.

“Have either of you seen (Y/N)?” Your mom rushes up to Chenle and Jisung in a slight panic. Both of them shrug, shaking their heads no in response. “She told me a limo was picking her up, but apparently she told her grandmother I was bringing her.”

Shit. There’s something in Jisung that springs into action upon the possibility that you could be in danger.

“Stall until I get back.” Jisung directs Chenle.

“Where are you going?!” Chenle shouts back, but it’s too late. Jisung’s already run off.

“Oh no no no…” you whine as your car conks out, the heavens pouring down on you and pooling in your hatch-back. “Is this what I get for messing everything up!” You shout at the sky, flopping back into your seat and sobbing your heart out.

You don’t blame the universe for this payback. You deserve it after all your selfishness. But you have been trying to make amends, to right all of your wrongs. You have every intention to go to the independence ball to share your decision in person. It’s the least your families country deserve. It’s the least your family deserve. But, right now, you’re failing. Failing at getting to the ball on time just like you failed at making amends with Jisung.

Gosh, even when you’re trying to do something else it’s still seems to end up on Jisung…

Just as you’re giving up all hope, a car horn jolts you up in your seat with a gasp. The headlights blind you momentarily as they round the corner, until the car has stopped beside you.

“Need a ride, Princess?” Your mouth hangs agape as the window rolls down to reveal Jisung in the drivers seat.

Although you can only see the top half of him, you’re heart summersaults from his attire. There he is, coming to your rescue, dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie. He looks just like Prince Charming.

“How did you find me?” You remain in your car, unable to move from the shock… and the cold. You look like a drowned rat as the storm continues to shower down on you.

By this point, Jisung had gotten out of his car, into the pouring rain and rushed over to help lift you out of your vehicle to transfer you into the warmth and shelter of his own.

“Lucky guess.” He smirks from the drivers seat, twisting the keys and bringing the car to life again, before racing through the dark deserted streets.

You watch him from the passenger seat as he remains focused on the road, mesmerised by the steady focus of his eyes and his tight jaw, the way his hair - now wet from your rescue - drips little droplets of water onto his forehead and nose, down his cheeks to his perfectly plump lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You’re caught off guard by his question as it breaks the silence that had settled. You hadn’t even realised you’d been staring that long, or the fact he’d noticed.

“I was… just looking.” You blush, turning to look out your window. You’re just thankful it’s dark right now.

A few seconds go by and you begin to recognise the street just as the car pulls into your grandmothers driveway and stops at the entrance.

“Wait!” You clutch onto Jisung’s arm as he goes to open his door. He freezes from the touch before slowly twisting back to look at you. “Thank you.” You whisper.

“It was no problem.” Jisung sends you a tight lipped smile.

“No. I mean, thank you for always being there for me.” You elaborate, moving your grip down his arm until you get to his hand, entangling your fingers with his. “For loving me.”

Jisung’s breath hitches. He’s not sure what to say. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. And the way you continue to stare at him makes him feel so warm and fuzzy and loved.

“(Y/N), I-”

“I know you said you wanted space.” You cut him off. “But I’m so lost without you.”

“Why me?” He whispers.

You slowly reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him in closer and closer until your noses touch. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe in his signature piney scent. The familiarity makes you feel like you’ve arrived back home and gives you the courage to utter your next words ever so breathily.

“Because you saw me when I was invisible.”

The next thing you know, Jisung’s lips are smashed against yours. You’re unsure which of you initiated it, not having had your eyes open in fear of his rejection. His lips are just as soft as you’d imagined they’ve be and you feel yourself unable to suppress the smile that explodes across your face, causing Jisung to smile into the kiss too.

Everything seems to fall into place again. Who knew kissing your best friend could feel so right?

Pulling apart breathlessly, you both continue to smile at each other, idiotically in love.

“We really should get inside and put Chenle out of his misery.” Jisung chuckles, only imagining the chaos he’s cause by trying to stall.

“I guess…” you trail off, sending Jisung a sheepish smirk. He knows exactly what you’re thinking. “…Or we could kiss some more?”

“We can do that later. But first, you have to tell your country you will be their Princess.”

~ bonus ~

“How’s my baby?” Jisung rolls his eyes.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He deadpans, failing to hide the blush that tinges his cheeks from the way you smirk at him.

You know he loves it really.

“But it’s cute!” You continue to tease, laughing as you speak.

“Whatever you say Princess.”

#nct fluff #nct angst #nct oneshot #nct drabbles #nct fanfiction #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct jisung #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct dream oneshots #nct dream fluff #nct dream jisung #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction

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bihansthot · 2 months

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I’ve had an awful cough on and off since over a year now and my doctor has tried multiple things to treat it and nothing is helping. The next step is to see a lung specialist, yay more doctor’s appointments, I also have to call the liver specialist back tomorrow since they never got back to me about setting up an appointment. I have so much going on medically right now and ironically none of it is my heart for a change. I do have to see my cardiologist in a month but as far as I can tell my PET scan went fine so hopefully it will be an easy appointment. I need to get bloodwork next week, I’m hoping my levels will be better this time. I’m also supposed to drive down to fucking South Carolina to visit my partner’s family and then down to Florida to see mine because my older brother is so worried about my nephews not spending enough time with me and in his defense I haven’t seen them since they were in diapers and they’re 8 and 10 now but it’s like someone in my family finally realized I have a limited time to life and is wigging out now. I’m also really bitter about it because literally a week after we get back is my 40th birthday, yeah that’s right I’m that old. I really wanted to have a wild and fun birthday maybe go to Las Vegas finally or go see my besties in Atlanta but no, financially we can’t afford two trips so I have to give up my celebration for family time just like I had to give up celebrating my 25th heart transplant anniversary for the same reason. I’m so tired of feeling like I don’t deserve to celebrate anything, I’m so sick for feeling like my milestones aren’t worth anything. 40 is huge for someone who’s doctors have told their Mother to hug their little girl one last time because she isn’t going to survive the night, the week, the operation, to 1, to 5, to 10 to 15 to 20 etc. but I fucking did. I am six weeks from 40, something no one thought I would do and I can’t celebrate how I want. I’m trying not to sound entitled or self centered but I deserve to celebrate my milestones too. I’m so stressed, I’m stressed about my health, about Ani’s health, about my weight, the trip, my birthday ugh I just need a break. I won’t get one though the trip will be stress filled and miserable as I’m the most awkward person around kids ever, I hate the beach, I hate Florida, I hate the way my mother acts. Fat me is never good enough for her and she never lets me forget it and no one ever defends me or sticks up for me. I just get to let her whittle down my self worth while I try not to upset her further. *sigh* I just want a good night’s sleep but that hasn’t happened in a while. Sorry if I seem quiet or distant lately especially on discord, I have a lot on my plate right now and I’m not quite sure how to handle it all.

#life update #health stuff #health problems #send good vibes #send positive vibes

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little-diable · 11 months

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Mind Games - Aaron Hotchner 3/5

Here we go, part three to this series. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader had once worked with the CBI, trying to help Patrick Jane catch Red John. Now, as she is part of the BAU and dating Aaron Hotchner, her past is coming back to haunt her. Will her team be able to support her through it? Will her relationship survive her clash with old times, memories she had been running from and a run in with her ex-lover?

Warnings: 18+, smut with Aaron, a lot of tension, flashbacks to trauma

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader, past Patrick Jane x fem!reader (2k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

Part 1 Part 2

“It’s time for you to tell us what is going on here, between you two, (y/n).”

“What are you doing?” She froze in her step, hands tightening their grip on the clothes she was about to throw into her bag. Piercing bright eyes kept watching her move, standing in the middle of her apartment, looking panicked, lost, and frightened. The marks that had been left on her throat were still prominent, a haunting view Patrick wouldn’t ever be able to shake from his thoughts. “Honey, what’s going on?”

“I need to leave.” Tears were welling up in her eyes, momentarily blurring her sight as her body snapped back into motion. Her heart was pumping loud, louder than the anxious breaths leaving Patrick, forced to watch his lover pack her bag, about to leave him behind. It was an awful sight, a sight so confusing, Patrick’s insides began to churn. Deep down he hoped that she was leaving because of him, because of the current fight the two were stuck in, but fuck, this was worse, so much worse. Fate was about to rip her from him, the woman he had wanted to propose to in the following week.

“Hey, look at me, stop, just for a second.” But (y/n) couldn’t. She kept packing her bag, pushing past Patrick who didn’t manage to grasp her wrist in time. Her body shook, violently as if she was about to freeze to death. Her steps were fast, uncalculated, resulting in her almost tumbling over her own two feet. “Honey, please.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry.” This time Patrick managed to grab ahold of her hand, forcing (y/n) to freeze as he pulled her against his chest. Her sobs wrecked through her, body struggling to fight through the waves of exhaustion, of anger, and of fear that overtook her system. “I love you, Patrick, and I always will. I am so sorry.”

“I need some time, please.” (Y/n) tried to move towards the door, needing to flee from the conversation her team was pressuring her into. But (y/n) didn’t get far, forced to a halt as a cold “Agent (y/n)!” left her boyfriend. Aaron’s gaze was sharp and steady, threatening to cut through her skin, not daring to give her a way out of the conversation she had been running from ever since that night.

“You told me you have to work with us on this case, and I trusted you. You made this decision, so sit down and tell us what is going on. Lives are at stake here.” Her eyes flickered towards Patrick, not expecting the warm gaze he shot her, slightly nodding his head to encourage his ex-lover.

“Alright.” (Y/n) took a step closer, sitting down on a chair placed between Patrick and Aaron. “As you know, I was part of the CBI for years, and ever since I’ve joined them, we’ve been tormented by a serial killer called Red John. He’s the reason Patrick ended up at the CBI, and I promised Patrick that if I can help him make his peace, I would do it. Within my first year at the CBI Patrick and I started seeing each other, things got serious pretty fast.” Her eyes didn’t dare meet Aaron’s, not prepared to get lost in whatever expression was tugging on his features. “I don’t have to explain to you the risks dating within a team bears. Three weeks before I left the CBI I was kidnapped, held hostage for five days. I hadn’t been able to escape my memories, the trauma I desperately tried to fight against. I felt like a failure, felt like I had disappointed Patrick and my team, since I hadn’t been able to even protect myself, so I packed my things and left, left California, left the team, left Patrick. And I regret it, I don't regret meeting Aaron, I don't regret joining the BAU, but I regret the way I let my trauma ripped me from those I never wanted to part from.”

The room was filled with silence, a silence so thick (y/n) feared she’d never be able to escape this very moment again. Her hands were trembling, legs quivering as if she had just finished running a marathon. Patrick was the first to break the silence, hand grasping hers to force (y/n) to look at him.

“I can still remember the first call we got from him, how he spoke of you like a treasure he had managed to steal from us. We were running out of time that day, it felt like a trick as we finally got to you. And ever since that night, we’ve been trying to find him.” A tear dripped from her eye, wiped away by Patrick’s soft touch. Their eyes held contact for a few more moments before (y/n) rose to her feet, needing to deeply exhale as Aaron took lead once again.

“We need whatever you have on him, if it’s a copycat after all, I’m sure it’s him. He was waiting for another chance to get to (y/n), seeing her around me must have given him the final push. He is escalating, and he needs to be stopped.” The people around (y/n) began to move, getting in touch with the others to call them back to the BAU, exchanging data, new information, and ideas. All while (y/n) was gently pushed out of the room by her boyfriend, trailing behind him with exhaustion thumping through her system, taking over her body like a tsunami wave, drowning without any air left in her aching lungs.

Aaron’s arms found their way around her waist, tugging her closer and closer till no space was left between them, “I want you to go home for the night, get some sleep. If you still feel like working on this with us, I want you back here by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” Aaron shot her a small smile, letting go of (y/n) to turn away from her, about to make his way back to the others. The call of his name forced his eyes back towards her, patiently waiting for her to speak up, “I love you Aaron, and I wouldn’t trade our relationship for the world, I hope you know that.”

With his lips pulled into an ever growing smile, Aaron pulled (y/n) in for a kiss, momentarily allowing her mind to rest, getting lost in the movements of his lips, tongues moving together to still their hunger. Aaron murmured the loving three words against her lips, squeezing her side before he let go of her.

……

Her eyes struggled to stay open, watching the city blur by as she made her way home. Her thoughts were spiralling, pushing one flashback after another through her mind, once again stuck in her trauma like quicksand pulling her under. (Y/n) combed through her memories, needing to find something else to focus on, something to distract her from her darkening thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought of Aaron, of all their sweet moments, and the first night they had spent together.

“Are you sure about this?” His husky voice left her trembling, lips finding his as she nodded her head, allowing her fingers to undo the last button of his dress shirt. Aaron gently pushed her away from him, big hand cupping her warm cheek, forcing (y/n) to get lost in his eyes, “I need words, honey.”

“I’m sure of this, please, touch me, Aaron.” The use of his name forced a groan out of the man, lips finding hers almost impatiently, giving (y/n) a gentle push back to settle down on the mattress of her bed. Aaron felt her heart race, hands cupping her breasts, squeezing her soft skin to try and etch this very moment into his mind for years to come. His lips found their way down her throat, to her chest, sucking on her hardening nipples as his hands worked on her trousers. “Don’t waste any time, need to feel you inside of me, please.”

“So impatient, but since you’ve asked so nicely,” the rest of the sentence was left unsaid as he pulled her trousers down her legs, soaked through panties following. His skilled fingers found her core, gently circling her pulsing clit to try and distract her mind for a few seconds. Aaron found himself worshipping her body and soul, admiring the beautiful woman he never wanted to part from again.

The moan of his name forced Aaron to keep on moving, getting rid of his clothes as (y/n) reached for a condom, ripping it open with her teeth. Their eyes held contact as she rolled the condom down his cock, silently making a promise that she’d suck him off later tonight, needing to feel his cock resting on her tongue.

With a kiss shared between the two lovers, Aaron slowly pushed into her, groaning into the crook of (y/n)’s neck as her walls squeezed him. For a second he didn’t move, relishing in the new sensation, staring down on her with love swimming in his pupils. Only as (y/n) wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to force him closer, did Aaron begin to move, forcing his cock deeper into her tightness.

“Fuck, you’re so big, feels so good.” (Y/n)’s praises made a smirk widen on his lips, hand tightening its grip on her pillow. His eyes had that special glint to them (y/n) adored with all her might, hoping that she’d forever get to admire it. Their bodies moved in sync, perfectly complementing one another, seemingly able to understand what their systems were desperate for without having to speak up.

A yawn left (y/n) as she arrived at her apartment, ripped from her flashback as her gaze fell upon her door, freezing in her step. Her door was open, no longer locked, even though (y/n) was certain that she had locked it all these hours ago. Slowly she placed her bag down on the ground, taking a deep breath before she walked into her apartment.

Her heart was racing, feet trying not to make any noises as she walked through her empty apartment. It didn’t seem like anything was missing, things left in their place. Her hand trembled as she pushed open the door to her bedroom, eyes finding the crooked red smiley that had been painted onto the wall, paired with a red “Missed me?”.

Without thinking twice (y/n) reached for her phone, eyes flickering down to her screen, thumb dialling the only number she knew by heart. It didn’t ring for long, forcing an all too bright “Hello?” to vibrate in her ears.

“Patrick, he was in my apartment.” She heard the mentalist exhale, and for a few seconds they were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence. (Y/n) couldn’t stop trembling, eyes forced shut to try and stop her mind from pushing her back into that awful feeling she had felt the days following her kidnapping.

“I will be there in a minute, it will be okay, honey.” The call ended without giving (y/n) another chance to speak, staring at the now dark screen of her phone. For a moment she wondered if she should also call Aaron, and yet she didn’t, not wanting to pull him away from the files he was probably working on right now.

Though while (y/n) was sitting down on her bed, fumbling with her fingers as the seconds passed by like raindrops falling from the dark sky, Aaron was pacing his office, eyes finding the picture of him and (y/n) at any given chance. From his office he had a perfect view onto the others, his team, the CBI members, and Patrick Jane. The sight of the man left Aaron brooding, unsure what to think of him, somewhat anxious about the tension lingering between the man and (y/n).

He watched Patrick reach for his phone, speaking words he couldn’t hear with a smile tugging on the blond haired man’s lip. All Aaron could do was watch the smile turn into a frown, making his way towards the elevator with hurried steps. Aaron wasn’t fast enough to stop Patrick from leaving, he could only guess that (y/n) had called him, making Aaron’s heart clench in his chest.

“Where is he going?” Aaron turned towards Teresa Lisbon, studying the dark haired woman whose eyes were focused on the elevators.

“(Y/n) had called him, seems like he had made his next move, he broke into her apartment.”

#Aaron Hotchner smut #mind games #aaron hotch imagine #patrick jane #criminal minds imagine

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percywinchester27 · 11 months

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*Waves nervously* Hey, guys! It’s me... back again :)

Firstly, thank you so much for the kind messages. You folks are some of the sweetest peeps around, no kidding. I actually did make a long post explaining everything about a month back, but tumblr being tumblr glitched and the post was lost forever to the tumblr abys when I hit ‘post.’ I didn’t have it in me then to rewrite the whole thing. The gist of it is:

1. My grandmother passed away (That bit everyone knows because it was the last post I made)

2. Two days after that, I decided to mess up my life even more and end a ten-year-old kind-of relationship. People who have been following me for a while now would know about it.

3. College life got really, really hard all of a sudden. The academic pressure, unnecessarily severe HOD and crushing work burden basically left me with no time to write or be here.

4. This was my first time living by myself in a new city and I have no shame in admitting that I underestimated how much effort it is to keep yourself alive, pay the rent by yourself and adjust to living in a whole new city.

5. I got sick in the middle. Really sick. Lost 12 pounds kind of sick. It sucked.

Long story short, I feel like a different person from the one who posted the last chapter of ‘The New Mrs. Winchester.’ The girl who envisioned the story had fallen out of love long ago and clung to the series by making it a coping mechanism, to continue living in denial, afraid to spit out the words that would end the relationship. The reader in the series had a man who understood her trauma, and treated her the way she needed to be treated... and I didn’t have that in real life. The series had become an escape of sorts. But the more I wrote it, the more resentful I felt for what the reader had and what I didn’t. That’s never good, right? Starting to envy your own creation?

Then my grandmother passed. And you know that reckless self-destructive urge to wreck everything when even one thing goes wrong? Yeah, that’s what made me pick up the phone and end it. I did it by text because my voice wouldn’t hold and I couldn’t stop crying. I think I cried for hours in my tiny room. Then the next day I had to leave for a study trip so I didn’t even have the support of my friends... no shoulder to cry on. Back then, I thought I deserved to feel the pain, deserved to be alone and deal with it myself because I was hurting a good soul. It was a dark time. Everything seemed to be falling apart.

In the end, he was quite nice about it, and we ended it like two mature people with nothing but best wishes for one another. I hope he is happy in the country he wants to make his home.

It’s been five months since. I am doing so much better now. I have adjusted to the losses and recovered about ten pounds ;) I’ve also started seeing someone new. He’s very good to me :)

For the summer months, I’m back home. Agreed there’s a 45 hours a week internship, but I don’t have to fend for myself day in and day out. So, while there are no promises... I’ll do my best to get back to writing! I am hoping to get some of my writing inspiration back... So fingers crossed? ;)

If you’ve stuck around till here.... once again, thank you for not ditching my ass in the five months of radio silence. You guys are truly something.

Love always!

-Ana xoxo

#personal #hiatus end hopefully?#thank you so much for sticking around #y'all are awesome #about me

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leahwilliamson68 · 1 year

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My Leah

Hey guys!! This is my first post on here…I’ve written a book on wattpad but thats it, don’t judge it’s my first one but anyways let’s see how this turns out <3

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Leah and I have been dating for nearly 5 months now, it’s been really good, we live in the same house since I moved to arsenal, which was 9 months ago. Of course Leah made the first move in our relationship, in fact she made the first move in everything that’s happened in our relationship but that is simply down to me and how I am, I hate talking about my feelings and I find it really hard to trust people. My mum has been my best friend my whole life, when I was younger we spent every single weekend together, going to my football matches or just going out shopping, it’s been quite hard not being able to see her every weekend since she still lives in the house I grew up in which is in Leeds, On the other hand mine and my dads relationship is the complete opposite, we never got on when I was younger and he never support me in anything i did, when I was younger I would get really upset about it because I simply couldn’t understand why he was like this and it made me upset seeing other girls with there dads at my football matches but as I got older I wouldn’t get upset but angry which would lead to many arguments between me and my dad, so when I was 19 I moved out of my childhood house and moved to Manchester to play for Man Utd, I still kept in contact with my mum but me and my dad never talked to each and he never came to see his daughter play at stadiums like old Trafford or the eithad

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Me and Leah had just gotten back from our game against Chelsea, which we won 2-1 against, I was looking through my phone at all the messages I had received when I clicked on my mums name to see no message which was a bit strange, I didn’t think much about it and just thought that maybe she was going to call later on so I carried on replying to everyone else until I saw my dads name pop up at the top of the screen, I clicked on the message to see what he wanted since he never congratulated me on my games “ Jessica your mother has passed away this afternoon in hospital, she had tripped over at work and hit her head… the doctors said it was anything serious but kept her there just for precaution… she passed away a few hours later, I’m so sorry Jessica, you’ve made your mother so proud and I know she will be looking over you in heaven” I just stood there looking down at my phone whilst my eyes started to water “I’m back babe” Leah said walking into the kitchen after finishing in the shower, I didn’t reply, I wasn’t trying to be rude I just couldn’t my whole body was frozen “babe” Leah said coming closer to me, putting a hand on my arm and looking over my shoulder to read the message “omg shit, Jess are you okay?” Leah spoke softly pulling me into her arms, I didn’t like this at all I hate showing my feelings and I hate crying in front of people I did to get away from this house and away from Leah for at least a few hours is what my mind was thinking, I pulled my self away from Leah’s arm and with out saying anything started to make my way to our front door “ Jess where are you going?” Leah said following me to the door “ I can’t be here right now le” I quietly said to Leah and with that I walked out of the door and into the pitch black.

I was walking the streets of London, nobody else was walking around and there was only a few cars on the streets, I walking round the local cafe place the team and I go to every week when I car pulled up next to me “brooks what you doing walking around by yourself and where’s Leah” I immediately knew that was Lia because she always called me by my last name “ oh hey Wally, I’ve just gone on a walk to get away from mine and Leah’s house, don’t worry about me I’ll be make home soon, go home and relax” I said to Wally with a fake smile trying to encourage her that I was fine “not a chance, now come get in I’m taking you home” Wally said unlocking the car doors “seriously Wally I’m fine please go home and relax” I pleaded with her “ get in the car now” Wally said with a serious tone, I slowly got in to the car and just stared out of the window, we soon pulled up to mine and Leah’s house, I got out of the car and said thank you to Wally, she waited until I got into the house before leaving.

I tried to be as quite as I could shutting the door hoping that somehow Leah had fallen asleep so I didn’t have to talk to her until the morning “ hey” Leah said quietly, I jumped out of skin and turned around “ Jesus you scared the shit out of me Leah” I said trying to avoid the subject that was about to be said “I’m going to go to bed” I said trying to get past Leah but of course she didn’t move and pulled me into her arms and took us to the sofa “ talk to me Jess” Leah said taking my hand and rubbing it softly “ I can’t Leah you know how I get when I have to talk about my feelings” I said not making eye contact with Leah, she used her hands and moved my head so that I was looking at her “ I’m your girlfriend Jess, please open up to me” Leah pleaded with me “ I just feel so empty le, like I have no emotion let I’m crying, I feel tired and drained and I feel weak, I hate this so much people are going to see im vulnerable Leah, I don’t want that to happen because it just reminds me of what my dad would say to me eveytime I cried when i was younger at home” i quickly said hoping to get this over with quickly, Leah pulled me into her chest “ your not weak, your the strongest girl I know Jessica, I’m so happy you talked about your feeling with me because I will tell you what, it’s a lot better telling someone then bottling it up in here” Leah said point at my heart, I moved myself so I was laying on top of Leah, she started to run her hands through my hair, I felt my eyes close slowly “ I love you Leah, so much and thank you for everything” I whispered “ your the one for me Jess, I love you so much” Leah said kissing my head and that’s how I feel asleep in my Leah’s arms in our house

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Hey guys I’m sorry if there is any mistakes or spelling mistakes I struggle a lot with writing stuff so bare with me!! Tell me what you think to this!!

Also this is so different to wattpad, like I didn’t know how to end it and I keep thinking to my self I could live it on a cliffhanger and write the next chapter lol 😂

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader

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canonicallyobserving911 · 1 month

Text

Buck & Eddie: Two emergencies in 7x1 illustrated Buck hasn’t dealt with his death

It appears the first call with the older onery couple and the second call with the burned car relate to Buck’s death and they seem to illustrate how he’s not over it yet.

These are my OBSERVATIONS and INTERPRETATIONS of two scenes included in 7x1 and other people’s may differ since everyone consumes and interprets media differently.

Now back to the regularly scheduled program…

Before I delve into this, I have to mention that I don’t think Buck’s over his death yet. Does he want to be? Yes but the fact is he hasn’t dealt with it and the first two emergencies in 7x1 alluded to it.

For those who read my post about my frustrations surrounding the fact that TM (showrunner) said Buck was tired of talking about death and he just wants to be happy (linked here), I’ve elaborated on why I believe he hasn’t dealt with it yet in this post. I found two things in the first episode of season 7 that seems to prove my theory associated with the way TM might be saving Buck dealing with the fact that he ACTUALLY DIED in season 6 until after 7x6 airs since that’s Maddie’s wedding and the Buckley parents are scheduled to return.

I live blogged during last week’s episode but while doing so, I noticed so many things that I wanted to expound on but I wanted to analyze them first to see how they connected to previous seasons and episodes. I watched the episode three more times for multiple reasons but mainly because I wanted to make sure I understood all the callbacks, hindsight, metaphors and foreshadowing. This post will not include everything I found because it’s a lot but I will do several posts to cover the others.

While Buck and Eddie were in the locker room talking, Buck said all ND wanted to talk about was his death, it got boring after a while and he didn’t know why he thought dating a dEaTh DoUlA was a good idea. Eddie responded, “Well you had just died” but then he said something else that caused me to pause because it was JARRING. He said, “Welcome back to the land of the living Buck, you were missed” (more on this topic below).

Be clear, I’M GLAD SHE’S GONE AND I WISH THE SHOW WOULDN’T HAVE SHOVED THEM INTO A RELATIONSHIP. If she would have helped Buck with the fact that he died like she was supposed to then all that screen time spent on whatever they had in season 6 could have been used to SHOW how he arrived at a point of just wanting to be happy at the beginning of season 7 but the audience didn’t get that. The truth is, if he wasn’t opening up and talking about it (it’s likely he wasn’t since he’s not in therapy) then of course it got boring for him because he was doing what he always does, avoiding dealing with his own issues by trying to fix everyone else’s. Reminder, he’s the guy who likes to fix things except for when it’s his own problems. He avoids them the same way he avoided moving on from AC in season 2 which equates to the way he avoided talking to TK for a week so he wouldn’t have to break up with her at the end of season 5.

Also, Buck hides his true feelings and he said so in 4x2 when he was in a FaceTime therapy session with Dr. Copeland. He said, “How I hide my true feelings from others”. Additionally, in 6x15, he told Eddie, “The truth is I am different. But I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else.” These two statements he made along with the way he avoids things further substantiates the fact that Buck is hiding the way he really feels about his death and he’s pretending to be happy.

IMO, the first and second emergencies in 7x1 the 118 was dispatched to appeared to show where Buck is mentally. I’ll start with the chair and the car metaphors in this post because they’re the ones I couldn't forget when I watched live. After my initial viewing, I kept wondering why the man in the first call was not only sitting in a reclining chair but he was ALSO TRAPPED IN IT. Additionally, I couldn’t get over the fact that Buck and Eddie were the only two on the scene of the second call with that burned car. Not only was the car destroyed from the inside out; it was the question the owner of the car asked Buck that I couldn’t forget. The chair and the car are the two items I’ll expound on in this post to illustrate how they relate to Buck’s death and I’ll include my opinion to explain how they might relate to what could possibly happen with him before the end of the season.

Call #1

Do these two GIFs look familiar?

They should because Buck and Abe are both sitting in arm chairs that are suited for only one person and they mirror the way Buck’s life could end up if he lives it the way other people want him to instead of him living it the way he wants to. The darker color in the suede of Abe's chair is similar to the color of Buck's leather chair. Also, Abe's chair is outdated but he still uses it so he doesn't have to deal with Edna.

In 7x1, Abe just wanted to be at EASE with his life while sitting and relaxing in his chair but his wife wouldn’t let him. He was trying to watch TV but she kept knit picking at everything he was doing. She was doing the whole “pay attention to me or else I’ll force you to do it and make your life a living hell while I'm at it” dynamic and it was annoying AF. They had been married for more than 30 years and they never had any kids but they were also miserable. They hated each other and it appears they were in a marriage neither of them wanted to be in. After the 118 arrived, Edna said, “He loves that chair more than the loves me”.

Furthermore, they had a couch in their home but it was just sitting there which means ABE REFUSED TO SIT ON IT WITH HER. He told Chimney the fighter jet should have put one of them out of their misery.

Was the depiction of their relationship reminiscent of one from season 5? YES!

In 6x1, Bobby told Buck he needed to take inventory of his life so he could be at EASE and when he did, he sat in his chair but at the time, since he had already given TK the boot, he didn’t have to worry about her doing to him what Edna spent 30 years doing to Abe. If Buck would have kept on clinging to TK, then that could have been his fate. TK was shallow and wanted all the attention on herself the same way Edna did and she proved it with her raggedy and immoral journalistic behaviors. She had planned to throw the 118 under the bus in 2x6 but she didn’t get the chance to do it then since the LAFD’s lawyers were more powerful than her news station’s lawyers. However, she jumped at the opportunity to do it a second time in season 5 when she didn’t have anyone to stop her.

Abe’s relationship with Edna gave the audience a future flash forward of where Buck could end up if he follows what some GA viewers want him to do. Before he died, in 6x2, Lev told him his life went by in a blur and it was the reason he went to the happiness convention with his friends. Abe chose the life he felt like he was expected to live with a wife and a house too but based on the way he was acting; it clearly wasn’t something he would have chosen for himself. And he was so far from being at ease that he was miserable.

Additionally, Edna was a combination of every woman Buck’s ever dated. She was older and had red hair which coincides with AC. She didn��t care about what Abe was doing because she wanted him to do what she wanted which coincides with TK and also, she had red hair. She was frustrated with him and what he was doing which correlates her to AM, reminder she didn’t like Buck’s job which is the reason why she left him with a cast on his leg after the ladder truck explosion. Finally, ND was fascinated by Buck’s death the same way Edna was fascinated by the fact that Abe might not be ok. She cared more about the chair being out of her house than she did about his well-being. Their lives were miserable but instead of ending their relationship, they clung to each other just like Buck and TK did in season 5.

IMO, the couple represented the life Buck would have if he follows the path some people in the GA want him to. Believe it or not, there are still viewers who want everyone to do things the way they did them, i.e., get married, have a house, have kids and work a job until they die and instead of wanting Buck and Eddie to experience the true love they clearly share to flourish and grow, for WhAtEvEr ReAsOnS, they’d rather they stay in relationships with the women who wronged, abandoned and ignored them. It appears they're choosing not to see how much they love each other and they would prefer them to “stick it out” in relationships with people who clearly make them miserable.

Reminder, in 6x15, Buck told Eddie, “I still don't know how to act. I am different but I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else” and I’ve always believed he was saying that directly to the audience. It was aimed at the women who wanted him to keep waiting around for AC or those who wanted him to stay with AM because she had an adult conversation with him before she dipped. Then there are those who wanted him to stay with TK because she was career driven (that’s a bunch of BS because journalists can be driven in their careers without being immoral, vindictive, callous or using people to get popular by writing a crappy book) and then there are those who wanted Buck to stay with ND (I know this may be hard to believe but there are posts that indicate “he knew what he was getting into when he dated her” 🙄). Like seriously, they wanted him to stay with her because in their minds, she was perfect for him but haven’t all his girlfriend’s stans said that? They have and the question they should ask themselves is, why haven’t any of Buck’s relationships worked (related post linked here and here) instead of acting like the women who treated him poorly deserved to stick around. Also, Buck’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode the same way that dummy bomb would have if it had gone off. However, just like on the call, Eddie’s going to be there for Buck but it’s unclear when or if he’ll be able to stop it from happening.

Call #2

The burned car was still smoldering but it was also hollow and charred to the core. IMO, it was included as a call that only Buck and Eddie were allowed to extinguish as a way to illustrate how it’ll take both of them working together to repair Buck’s charred, burned and smoldering insides. Reminder, in 6x10 he was struck by lightning and he died which means he’s probably feeling hollow on the inside and I think he feels all cored out just like that burned car. While they were in the locker room, it appeared he was ready to talk to Eddie about the way he feels which is the reason why he may have invited him to go out so they could be alone and he could speak freely. But he backed off when Eddie mentioned “Big date” and reminder, Buck was the one who assumed Eddie had a date with M (more on this below) but Eddie was talking about Chris' date.

After Eddie left, the audience didn’t see Buck leave so apparently, he went somewhere but who knows where since he wasn’t shown again until the next time they were at work. If they had gone together, it would have been a date but IIRC, other than the poker date in 6x13, every time Buck and Eddie hung out in the past, they were at Buck's loft or at Eddie’s house. Additionally, Eddie admitted he’s a nester which means he’s ok with them staying in like they did when they played video games and drank beer in the past. The one time they went to a bar together in 3x11 doesn’t count as a date because the rest of the 118 was there with Albert. I think Buck was extending an olive branch and trying to let Eddie know he needed him the same way Eddie tried to let Buck know he needed him before his breakdown in season 5 but when he finally broke, Chris called Buck and he came running. I’ve always wondered how it will play out if Buck breaks down while he’s alone in the loft and I have an idea of how it will happen but I haven’t decided if I’ll post it on here.

When they were done, the car owner asked, “Is it a total loss or is…?” and Buck responded, “Uh… not total.” then he smiled, held up a pine tree fragranced car freshener, which is symbolic of an actual family tree because of the ROOTS, then said, “Have a good day”. Buck’s biological family roots are about to come into question AGAIN (related post about the Buckley parents other deep dark family secret linked here) and guess what? When they do, it’s going to rock him to his CORE and the only person who’ll be able to help him is EDDIE! Buck’s not a total loss as the phrasing in the scene alluded to and Eddie KNOWS that! However, Buck will need for Eddie to tell him that over and over again until he starts to believe it.

I think the confrontation OS mentioned that’s supposed to occur between Buck and Eddie will be in relation to Buck’s self-worth and how he views himself. There are a lot of people who want to move on from the fact that Buck died and rightfully so since he along with the viewers had to endure an entire season of him not dealing with his issues. But the truth is 9-1-1 hasn’t moved on from it either and even though TM said Buck’s ready to find happiness, the fact still remains that Buck hasn’t dealt with the reality of his own death.

IMO, he will find happiness when he’s in a relationship with Eddie and reminder, Eddie’s the one who’s always trying to encourage him. He did it in 7x1 too after Buck said, “You don’t want him to end up like me” but Eddie was quick to respond, “You didn’t end up like you”. It was soft, pure and so full of love that it took Buck’s breath away.

Now be honest, would AC, AM, TK or ND have said that to him? The answer NO!

I stand by the things I included in a previous post because Connor and Kameron are supposed to return some time around or after 7x5 and that’s when I believe the proverbial $hit regarding Buck’s self-worth will hit the fan since it’s likely they’ll have some devastating news for him about the baby. Then the Buckley parents are set to return for Maddie’s wedding and nothing good ever happens to Buck when they do so it's looking like a trifecta of bad news for Buck (related post linked here).

Other than the time he spent talking to Chris at Eddie’s house, Buck was only shown at work during the entire episode and I believe that was on purpose. It’s unclear when he’ll be shown in the loft again but when he is, that could be when the audience sees he’s not doing as well as he’s trying to get people to believe. It’s likely the way he really feels about the fact that he died will be shown and if he feels like that burned car… it’s not going to be pretty or pleasant.

Eddie KNOWS Buck’s not doing well but he’s not going to push him to talk just like he didn’t in 6x12. He’s going to wait until Buck’s ready then, he’ll have the heart-to-heart talk with him the same way he always does. Reminder, Eddie takes care of Buck (post linked here) while Buck listens to Eddie and makes him talk (post linked here). In 7x1, Eddie said, “Welcome back to the land of the living Buck. You were missed” and I kept wondering why he phrased it like that but then I realized it’s because he knows Buck hasn’t confronted the fact that he died but he’s not going to push him, he’ll wait until he says he’s ready then Eddie will be there to take care of him like he always is.

Make no mistake, Buck’s happiness is with Eddie but he thinks he’s off limits since he’s “dating” M (please understand I don’t think Eddie and M are "seriously dating" and that's based on RG's responses about the character of M in his interviews. I’ll do a separate post on it explaining how the show and the actors have explained it in so many words).

TM used two BOLD contrasts in the first episode, a chair and a car, to show Buck has to deal with his death and it’s likely he'll continue to include these types of metaphors until he does. Also, TM's comment about Buck being tired of talking about dying seems to be a bait and switch and he's trying to get viewers to look away from Buck’s death so they’ll forget he’s been hiding it, then they’ll be blindsided by it when he finally breaks. Reminder, after the Madney wedding, there will still be 4 episodes left in the season and what exactly will TM fill them with🧐?

Will Buck finally deal with the fact that he died this season since he didn't in season 6? Who knows but based on the chair and the car, it appears his process of dealing with it has just begun.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 on abc #911 abc #911 meta #911 spoilers #911 speculation #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #oliver stark #ryan guzman #anti natalia dollenmeyer #anti bucktalia #anti taylor kelly #anti bucktaylor

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