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lover-of-mine · 8 months

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I'm here to argue my case about how Eddie fell first and has in fact been semi-aware of his feelings since season 3 and it's currently dealing with the way he thinks he'll have to be the best man on Buck's wedding. So sit down, buckle up, grab your delusional drink of choice (today I'm drinking my delusional tea lol), and let's go.

Okay, given season 6 information, we know Buck and Eddie are roughly the same age and we know Eddie was pursued by Bobby and Bobby wanted a partner for Buck (unrelated but Bobby so hoped the military guy would balance out Buck and for a while there he ended up with two very impulsive firefighters and he definitely had a few what the hell have I done moments lol) so it's kinda safe to assume that Buck was one of the selling points of the 118 because Buck is a very competent firefighter and they would be on the same shift. So Eddie went in with the expectation of someone his age he could befriend. I'm making some assumptions but the internet tells me the academy takes a year, we know Eddie still doesn't have a permanent childcare plan, so this man is interacting outside of the academy exclusively with his 7 yo, his abuela, and tia for a year, so I think that the idea of having a friend his own age was appealing to him. Especially after the army and Shannon leaving him. So much so that with his sharp edges, you can actually read things like "I'd go lower" or "you're in the wrong light, man" as attempts to create a bond, very awkward I haven't tried to make friends in forever attempts but attempts nonetheless because he's trying to be helpful. Buck is being Buck, but even Eddie says I hear you're a good guy, so dude is trying to understand what's happening, what's setting Buck off, and while he matches Buck's energy after the gym conversation, he actually continues to try and bond with Buck with the thing that actually works and the "you're badass under pressure" that is still another attempt to get through to Buck. I have various theories about the way Eddie keeps trying to start something, the one I like the most and the most painful one is about how Eddie has had the weight of the world on his shoulders forever. And he had to grow up really fast, and then there is Buck annoying him about nicknames and discussing his body fat percentage, and with all that really carefree energy season 1 and beginning of season 2 Buck had that he probably wanted to know what it felt like. But Buck is Buck and Buck also wanted a friend so dude imprinted on Eddie like a baby duck. But Eddie doesn't mind, like before Bobby comes in to say who got the spot on the calendar, Eddie looks amused by Buck not annoyed. But up until now, that's casual. They're coworkers.

Then we have the earthquake. We know Christopher is Eddie's whole world and he's very careful about the people he lets into their life, considering the earthquake happened on Maddie's first day on the floor and she must've had some sort of training before that, it's safe to assume that Eddie didn't mention Chris at the firehouse for at least a few weeks and he is very hesitant to tell Buck about him, but again Buck is Buck and he switches into reassurance mode and that's when Eddie actually lets him in. I actually would love it if we had an explanation as to why Buck drove Eddie to Chris' school after the shift, but it's something that he went from being hesitant to even mention he existed to introducing Buck to him. But then we have the moment Buck becomes his ride-or-die, you imprinted on me but now I'm hanging on to you, with the whole going to the hospital with him because of abuela and also the way that Buck clears Chris staying at the firehouse before Eddie thinks to do it.

This moment right here it's what gets Eddie. He's ready to apologize and justify and he doesn't have to because Buck stepped up to do something simply because he realized Eddie needed help and he could do something about it. Eddie is doing everything alone and he needs help but he doesn't know how or who to ask for it and Buck just steps in and does it before he needs to ask. And then there's Carla. Buck tricks him into showing up and literally hands him the solution to his problems because Buck knows Eddie wouldn't accept it if Buck had said what that was about beforehand, but at no point does Buck make it seem like Eddie is a bad parent for needing help. And I think with the whole thing with his parents trying to take Chris from him, that really does something.

I really like to use the second gif here as a major example of Eddie's heart eyes for Buck, but the first one, when he realizes who Carla is and what she can give him completely changes his demeanor. He was ready to be polite, was probably trying to figure out a way out without saying he was still married, but instead, Buck does something that not only makes Eddie's life easier but makes Christopher's exponentially better. And right then, Eddie is done for. I'm not saying he fell in love with Buck here, I'm just saying right here is when Eddie goes you're stuck with me now dude, and let his guard down with Buck, as much as this Eddie can at least. That's when something starts for him. You can't change my mind on this one. But for now, there's the Shannon of it all, because Eddie does love Shannon but their relationship is beyond complicated.

But Buck is still constant through Shannon and I think that's important, actually, because Eddie is having trouble trusting Shannon and I feel like having Buck around helps him not go straight to the worst-case scenario all the time. I don't have a point in mentioning this, it's just a clear show of how much Eddie already trusts Buck, but to have Buck go with him to take Chris to see Santa is so wild. Who takes their best friend to see Santa with their kid? Like, what?? But Isn't it interesting that Eddie decides to propose again after Buck asks when is the wedding? I find that fascinating really. Then Shannon dies, Buck almost dies, dude goes into move past it mode but the seed is there. Forever thinking about the wistful shot of Eddie saying almost after Hen says things are back to the way they should be. Something else about the finale it's that it's the first in the list of irrationality moments from Eddie regarding Buck. Eddie is a firefighter, he's objectively stronger than Chimney, so the logical thing to be done is to have Eddie helping lift the truck and Chim treating Buck. But no, at that moment he's a medic who's there to hold Buck's hand. He's just holding Buck's hand. He could've left Buck with Hen and go help lift the truck. But no, he's staying by Buck's side.

But season 3 is when things HAPPEN. We start out strong with the sheer excitement on Eddie's face that Buck is going back to work. Then the way Eddie just hands Christopher over to Buck without a single worry. "Oh, you're falling apart? Here's a kid, he will help" and just goes. We focus a lot on Buck's reaction to them finding Chris because it is what the show wants us to focus, this is the moment Buck looks at Chris and goes "shit I really love that kid" but Eddie looking back at Buck as he holds Chris is interesting. Eddie just went through 30 seconds (actually it's 1 minute 4 seconds from the moment Eddie notices Buck to Eddie having Chris in his arms not that it matters) of the worst possible moments in a parent's life and I guess, since Buck didn't have Chris, and Buck was too shaken to explain what had happened, he assumed Buck lost Chris during the first wave and he's looking back because he's shocked he saved not only himself but Chris from the wave, but from his focus to shift to Buck like that it's interesting. Even more, considering the way he barges into the loft to hand Chris over again. "There's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you" I'm sorry, there's no platonic explanation for the wording of this, okay? This is a man who looked at his honest to god wife, the mother of his child, and said "I can forgive you, I'm just not sure I can trust you" and trust is always the thing Eddie struggles with. To trust someone with Christopher is Eddie's ultimate show of love because it's what makes sense with his character, he is loyal until it kills him but nothing goes above Christopher. Also, Mr. Kids are signs hands over his own child to someone and I'm not supposed to look at that and go "huh wonder what he's feeling"? And there's the lawsuit of it all. Eddie gets that mad because he misses Buck and has no idea what to do with it. Because he got used to being a priority to Buck and he cannot handle the idea that maybe he's not. He's struggling, Chris is struggling and he needs Buck to do the thing he does where he fixes the problem without Eddie having to ask. But Buck has no real responsibility to Eddie or Chris, you can't really expect your best friend to base his life decisions on what's best for you. But it is the expectation Eddie has. He needs Buck to consider him. He needs Buck to be there for him no matter what. And at this point, when he's screaming at Buck as if they are a divorced couple, he's aware of something. He's definitely aware of something he doesn't want to look too closely at.

Because being left by Buck leaves him completely off balance. And since Eddie is famous for not dealing with the shit he's feeling, things keep escalating because anger it's easier. Anger he can deal with. But in the end, he just wants Buck back so he forgives him the second he lets Buck speak. Because he wants the Buck that looks right through him, he wants what they have back. And he doesn't hesitate once he does. There are definitely some lingering feelings about how he kept pushing Shannon away and then she died and he "lost" time he could've had if he had let her in after he sought her out, so when Buck apologizes he just goes let's go team and moves on because tomorrow isn't promised to anyone.

But I think there's something important to take into consideration, that it's Eddie's therapy session. He talks about not feeling anything, good or bad, and the his feelings are boxed thing and how he doesn't know what to do with them and yes, that comes back into play later, but it is important that Eddie doesn't name his feelings and he consistently tries to box them and move past them instead of feeling them, and it gets to a point where he's doing this even to positive things. So he is not looking too closely as to why missing Buck throws him off balance. He's all let's go back to the way things were and they do. Forever seeking for a heterosexual explanation to the kitchen scene in 3x09 but I also do think there are different types of tension between them there. Because while Buck is teasingly trying to get Eddie to admit on what had happened and how Buck's absence was a trigger for Eddie's fight club era in his flirty way of his, Eddie is trying to make him stop talking in a real "man don't make me look at what happened too closely" because he doesn't know what he'll find. Or if he's ready to find it. Considering the whole widower who never processed a big emotion in a healthy way he has going on there. But Buck is a really steady presence in Eddie's life, and Buck does his best to not put them in the lawsuit situation again, he's around, he's helping Eddie with parenting issues and then we have the well.

The well is a pivotal moment. Not just because of the sheer amount of Buck in Eddie's I need to keep fighting montage and the way Buck is acting above the ground, but because of the way Eddie changes his will after that and chooses to hide the fact that he did. Eddie has parents who are more than willing to raise Christopher, he has sisters, he has a lot of blood relatives that he could assign as Chris' guardians if something happens, but he chooses Buck. He chooses a firefighter, who is not only a firefighter, it's also his partner so if Eddie ends up in a life-threatening situation, Buck will probably be there too, so it's not the biggest safeguard. Buck is also single and without kids of his own. He also has known Buck for what? 2 years at that point? Eddie's lawyer probably stared at Eddie in disbelief when Eddie explained the situation. But the real thing about the will is that Eddie doesn't talk about it. Dude had some revelations while under all that mud because the only reason he wouldn't tell Buck is if he couldn't tell Buck without talking about himself. That's the only explanation for why he would hide it. Because Buck would ask why him, why now, like he did when Eddie did finally tell him, but right then Eddie can't shift the focus back to Buck. But there's a very subtle change in the way Eddie acts around Buck after the well. And again, sure, you can play off Eddie's reaction to when Buck wants to do something dangerous as he needs Buck to stay alive, but you can't really apply that logic to the way Eddie acts about Abby. Like, Eddie is petty to girls who want Buck, that's a fact. And Eddie is petty about Abby, but he also gets unsure about his place in Buck's life when he sees Buck's reaction to seeing Abby. And they focus on Eddie there. We get Eddie's reaction to that interaction. That means something.

We get Eddie legit feeling insecure about his place in Buck's life over the fact that Abby is there. And Eddie knows Abby as this entity, the one that got away, the person responsible for Buck being the way he is, because that's the way Abby is talked about, and sure, if I was in Eddie's shoes, only seeing the damage someone did to my best friend and then have them risking their life because of whatever lingering feelings are still there, I would also reserve myself the right to hate them, but it's more than that. Like, the way he backs away from the both of them once Buck goes into protector mode.

"Abby, His fiancée's Abby." *stomps away*. Absolutely insane interactions happen there that paint Buck as still hung up on Abby, even more after the whole thing with Red, but if you look at it with the right lenses, it paints Eddie as jealous of the way Buck is willing to put himself in danger to keep someone who broke him happy.

Every reaction from Eddie in the train wreck feels so calculated to give this idea that he's unsure of his place in Buck's life. His face when he realizes who he's talking to, his hand hovering over Buck's shoulder like he wants to comfort him but doesn't know if he can, the way he looks at Buck after Abby and Sam are in the ambulance. He's completely off balance at the sight of the ghost of Buck's great lost love and I'm supposed to believe that man is just experiencing platonic friendship feelings about his best friend? Come on.

Season 4 is complicated. Because of the Ana and Taylor of it all. They do have the easy banter, Eddie being someone Buck can rely on during the whole mess with his parents, a few scenes of Buck completely comfortable in Eddie's space and Eddie just moving around him like he's meant to be there, but we know the Ana of it all happens because of external pressure. Eddie thinks he needs to date, so he grabs onto the first woman he can. The way his whole body relaxes when he realizes Christopher is with Buck is actually insane. But even though he's dating, he's holding on to Buck in a way. Absolutely obsessed with how much he hates Taylor. Dude legit looks like he's fantasizing about running her over with the fire engine while watching Buck and Taylor interact making Buck ignore him.

But then Eddie gets shot. Say whatever the fuck you want Eddie reached for Buck. He thought he was dying. And he reached for Buck.

Eddie's been aware of something he doesn't want to look at too closely since the lawsuit that became harder to ignore after the well that he became fully aware of when he got shot. I know that what we have now says Eddie doesn't remember the shooting but wouldn't it be beautiful if he lied because he can't say what he remembers because everything he remembers is about Buck? The dramatic effect of I'm lying to you because I realized I loved you then but I can't tell you that now? Ugh. Anyway, Eddie got shot, things fell into place when he hit the ground, terrible place to have an oh! moment though. Dude just got shot, he's bleeding out, and the thing he gathers the rest of his energy is to ask if Buck is hurt. Sure, you can look at that as I think I'm dying so one of us has to make it home to Chris, but the possibility of it being an I love you I need to know you're okay before this kills me it's there. But he doesn't die. And when he wakes up Buck tells him it would've been better if he had been shot. You can see it on Eddie's face that he kept rehearsing what he was going to say about the will. Something else is the way that Ali takes Buck home after the truck so it would honestly make sense if Ana took Eddie home but he probably asked Buck to do it. That scene feels like an aborted love confession. "You act like you're expendable but you're wrong" the way he's saying you're not spare parts, you're not less important, you matter so much to me. Eddie knows Buck, he knows Buck associates love with pain. He wouldn't actually say something after he almost died, but it feels like he's working up to something. Sure he needs to break up with Ana, but there's time before he heals and can just, do something about it. But then Taylor fucking Kelly is in his welcome home party. He knew Buck and Taylor were working up to something. He knows Taylor being there means it happened. A violent reminder that Buck is straight (debatable) and doesn't feel the same (also debatable). So back to safety, he goes.

I need to know who decided that having this particular look when they are literally talking about how Eddie is about to meet Ana's whole family was the way to go.

Also, can you believe Eddie needed Buck's approval to break up with the girlfriend he didn't even want to date anyway?

Season 5 is complicated because of Eddie's PTSD, 5A has a lot of Eddie pulling away because of the way he knew when the dam broke it wouldn't be pretty and he didn't want to take down anyone with him. But even when we see Eddie out of the job, we see him making an effort to include Buck and Taylor so Buck would know that he really did mean the whole "you're stuck with us" thing. I can talk about 5x11 to 5x14 and the implications of it to buddie for days, really, (you can read this for some of those thoughts), but the thing here I guess, it's a lot about how when the box exploded, the feelings are all over the place, Eddie sits back and lets Buck in. He talks about the way he's feeling in a way we don't really see Eddie do all that often and he leans on Buck through his recovery and the process of finding out how to not feel like there's no hope for himself and how to feel comfortable in his own skin again. And it's a lot about Buck and the way Buck is constant. Eddie feels like Buck is this steady presence in his life that can and does help Eddie move forward.

But the thing is, the shooting happened, Eddie realized things, Taylor Kelly (derogatory) happened, Taylor Kelly (derogatory) took herself out of the running, Eddie now has the tools to deal with his own emotions, he's single, Buck's single, they're having dinner with Chris at Buck's loft and Eddie is asking Buck about things Chris kept from him, but Eddie is in a fantasy bubble where he can pretend he has the things he wants without actually asking for anything to change. I mean, post therapy Eddie is better with his feelings, but he's still Eddie. He was in his little I have time bubble. That was violently popped. Because Buck died. And he had to save him. "Do more" is such a desperate thing for a first responder and former combat medic to scream at a team of doctors. He knows they always do the best they can. He did the best he could, but there's only so far he can go. The way he follows the gurney hurts me in so many ways. Some real don't go where I can't follow bullshit.

This is a man who watched Buck almost die multiple times. But this is also a man who never contemplated the possibility of Buck actually dying. The thing that drives me crazy about Eddie and everything surrounding Buck's death is that he can't look at it. He can't take his eyes off him, but once he's out of his sight he can't look at him again. He spends the whole time not looking at Buck. He looks away every time someone mentions it. Even when he's in the room with Chris he's not looking. 3 minutes 17 seconds. Look, this number bothers me. Bobby said they were 3 minutes out from the hospital and that it took 3 minutes to start compressions. So Buck was dead for 6 minutes. The rescue took 3 minutes. And Eddie counted. That's the only explanation for this particular number. He counted how long it took to get Buck to Chim and Hen and in the ambulance ready to go.

But Eddie was living comfortably in his bubble, I don't think he was at peace with it, but I do think he accepted it. But Buck wakes up, Buck seeks him out to help deal with the trauma. They look like a family, they act like a family, maybe it's not hopeless after all. Maybe Buck can feel the same and they can talk about it once Buck is not feeling so raw over his own death. Buck is just there all the time, something like that can't be one-sided, can it? But then Buck pulls the rug from under him. I made a very long post about the cemetery, you can read that one if you want, but the thing about that conversation is that it is a reminder that they are not on the same page. Because Buck throws him off balance again, considering the way Eddie was trying his hardest to be there for Buck just for Buck to say he's getting what he wants from a random woman he met a few days before. And it makes Eddie back away so he won't end up hurting his own feelings more. I think at this point Eddie has accepted the fact that he's going to have to be Buck's best man and is trying to find a way to be okay with it. So he's retreating to familiarity again. It explains why he's trying to recreate what he had with Shannon because he loved Shannon, so maybe if he found that again he wouldn't have to cut Buck off to move on. Because he needs Buck on some level but there is a limit on how much he can take while Buck goes around looking for something he already has.

And yes I talked and talked and talked but why does this mean Eddie fell first? Well, Buck will never figure it out on his own. The thing about Buck is that Buck doesn’t know what healthy love is. He thinks love is work, but in a it’s bleeding himself dry for someone way. He thinks love is pain. Eddie is safety. Eddie is home. He never knew home as a place where he can find love.

This is all for today. If you read this I love you. Also the doc I typed it out says it has over 4.3k words so this is long as fuck congratulations for sticking through it 🩷

#shit this is LONG #dont ask how long it took i dont feel comfortable sharing this information aioskoaksoaksoaksoaksoaksasokokasokas #i have no hinges left oasokasokaosk #yes i know i sound crazy its fine tho #911 #buddie #otp: you don't need to pretend with me #911 meta #buddie thoughts #buddie meta #i miss them soaksokasoaksoaks

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crowleyholmes · 8 months

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Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!

Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!

(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)

THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK

Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)

✨ THE PLAN ✨

Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!

(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))

✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨

Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap

(It’s like a long nap or something.)

You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)

Most importantly: have fun <3

✨ THEMES ✨

(under the cut)

DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”

Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!

DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”

For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?

DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?

DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”

Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?

DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”

On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?

DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”

After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?

DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”

Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 3 #good omens speculation #gomens #crowley #aziraphale #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman #goodomensedit #goodomensgifs #goodomensfic #good omens fandom event #let's manifest season 3 friends!!!! <3 #ineffable husbands #ineffable beurocracy

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ichorai · 1 year

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sorry ; daryl dixon.

track three of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; daryl dixon x doctor!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

words ; 7.9k

themes ; heavy angst, mild action, doctor au

warnings / includes ; death and violence, negan at his worst, vulgar language, guns/weapons, descriptions of injury/blood, mentions of maggie's pregnancy, negan goes on long ass monologues, poor rick is going Through it, the walking dead s6-7 spoilers (fic starts right at the season six finale), mild sexual dialogue from negan

main masterlist.

Maggie hummed with discontent when you pressed a cold, damp cloth to her forehead. There was a pallid color to her skin, and her temperature was beginning to rise, despite her violent shivers beneath the blanket. The inconsistent, rocking motions of the RV weren’t doing her any favors, either.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Hilltop real soon,” you said, feeling mildly guilty that you couldn’t help her more, despite being a doctor yourself. Alexandria was completely out of medical supplies and this was urgent—if Maggie didn’t get help soon… you’d never be able to forgive yourself if something bad were to happen to her or the baby. “Hang on for me, okay?”

The brunette slanted her lips in a tired smile, eyelids heavy.

Rick knelt down beside you, speaking in a low, comforting tone. “We’re gonna get there. Once we get the medicine from Hilltop, Y/N will fix you right up.”

A small sigh fell from her pale, trembling lips. A thin film of tears warbled over her eyes. She was terrified.

“Oh, Maggie,” you murmured, gently pulling away the short strands of hair sticking to her face.

“How do you know?” muttered your friend, gaze trained on the ex-cop.

“Everything we’ve done… we've done it together. We got here together and we’re still here. Things have happened, but it’s always worked out for us, ‘cause it’s always been all of us. That’s how I know. As long as it’s all of us helpin’ you, we can do it.”

A hot tear meandered down Maggie’s cheek. You nodded gratefully at Rick—he’d always had a way with words that you’d never really gotten a grasp of.

The next hour passed by slowly. You switched between cooling her head, and helping her drink some water, sometimes just holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be fine. To take her mind off the pain, she’d asked you to tell her about how you and Daryl met, all those years ago long before the dead began to walk.

“I’m glad Daryl’s not here right now, because he always tells the story differently than I do. Well, how I remember it, he and his dick brother used to come to a small convenience store near their trailer park. That’s where I worked. I was around… nineteen at the time? Almost twenty. I was just working a couple jobs on the side to pay off my growing student debt. Daryl was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Merle tried to cozy up to me—and I didn’t have any of that. I told him to fuck right off. And later that night, just as I was to close up, Daryl came by and apologized on his brother’s behalf. He was real sweet, so I—”

“What the bitch?” barked Abraham from the driver’s seat, effectively cutting your story short and rolling the RV to a grueling halt.

“What?” asked Rick, standing up to look out the window. You followed suit, eyes widening upon the sight.

More than half a dozen Saviors blocking the road with three of their cars—and all of them holding large guns. A lump formed in your throat, and you cast your worried gaze to Rick.

“We goin’ through?” asked Abraham, jaw set.

Rick gnashed his jaw together in thought. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk to them. C’mon. Y/N, you stay here, watch over Maggie.”

Teeth worrying into your bottom lip, you nodded, stepping to the side to let the rest of them file out of the RV, their own loaded guns at the ready.

From inside, you couldn’t hear what the Saviors were saying, but from the smug expression of the one in the center with a hideous pornstache, you knew it couldn’t be anything pleasant for your group.

Three minutes later, they came back in, all looking a bit disgruntled. Rick, most of all.

“What’s going on?” you asked Carl, placing a hand on his forearm.

The young man that you were so fond of grimaced, shaking his head and lowering his voice to a whisper so that Maggie couldn’t overhear. “They won’t let us through. Want half our stuff.”

Your breath hitched. At this rate, you didn’t know how long Maggie could last without the proper care and medicine. And Alexandria was running low on supplies as it is—taking away half of everything would put the community in a pretty dire situation.

“Alright, thanks kid,” you told him, trying your absolute best not to cry from frustration, your nose burning with the effort.

The truck began to pull further away from the Saviors, until they were only but little dots against the horizon.

“Logrun Road’s a straight shot,” said Eugene, repeatedly tapping his finger against the map spread out across the RV’s pull-out table.

Next to you, Sasha shook her head. “We want visibility.”

You pursed your lips, craning your neck to scan the small, faded texts of the map. “Can we go down Shelton?”

Eugene hummed in agreement, drawling out in his thick Southern accent, “Golf course, country clubs, sloping terrain—no bum rush from the bogeymen. We’d see ‘em from a good piece. It is a longer trip by a third but we’d get the scenic safety of clear-cut dingles and glens.”

Both you and Sasha stared at him blankly.

“You’re being serious, right?” asked Sasha.

“As coronary thrombosis,” replied the man across from you, stony-faced. Besides, Eugene was never one to joke around.

Sasha rounded her gaze to you expectantly, waiting for you to explain in normal terms. “He’s serious,” you said. “It’s a longer route, but it’ll be well-sheltered and hopefully keep us hidden from the Saviors. I’ll try to keep Maggie steady until then.”

The two nodded at you, and you pushed away from the table, heading further back into the RV where Maggie and Rick were. She was pale and clammy, but still had enough energy to talk to you, so you took that as a good sign.

Not even ten minutes later, while you were taking measurements of her blood pressure and body temperature, the vehicle came to another rumbling halt.

“Bitch nuts,” cursed Abraham, loudly for both you and Rick to hear.

The Saviors were blocking the road. Again.

You could feel panic seize about your chest, constricting your lungs. The situation wasn’t looking good for Maggie, not one bit—but you couldn’t give up hope. Not now, when she needed you the most. You blew out a shaky breath, absentmindedly wishing Daryl was here with you to give you some comfort of mind.

“We making our stand?” asked Sasha, staring out of the window, where more than a dozen saviors were lined up.

Carl, ever the fiery one, spat out, “Yeah. We end this.”

The blue of his father’s eyes flashed dangerously. “No. Not now. It’s too dangerous for Maggie. They’ve been waiting—they’re ready. We ain’t. With one of us behind the wheel, and Y/N with Maggie, that’d be five on sixteen. We’re gonna play it our way. How we want it.”

Reluctant, Carl nodded.

Slowly, the RV started backing away. Three successive, warning gunshots were fired into the air. You could feel a sick, twisted rage curl up within your stomach.

If Maggie died on your watch—her blood would be on the hands of the Saviors.

You fumbled for another map pinned up on the cork board, eyes roaming over the roads, desperate for another available route. Could they possibly have you surrounded? No—the woods were vast, and the roads were winding—there were so many paths left to take to Hilltop. The Saviors simply wouldn’t have the numbers to stop you.

Wouldn’t they?

The RV came to another stop. This time, there were no Saviors blocking the road, but instead, a line of chained-up walkers. Not wanting to risk damaging the RV by driving through them, the rest of the group filed out to check if the coast was clear. You told Maggie you’d be right back, before hopping out of the RV, lingering by the doorway to narrow your gaze at the restrained walkers.

“That’s Michonne’s,” breathed out Carl, his single eye widening. A lock of her hair was stapled against the center walker’s forehead.

Horror, as black as tar itself, seeped into your chest when you glanced over to the next snarling form, just to see two of Daryl’s arrows embedded into its decaying stomach. Daryl always retrieved his arrows. Which meant… something had happened to him.

“That’s Daryl’s,” you said, loud enough for Rick to hear. “Oh, no, Rick… they did this on purpose. They knew we were coming this way—!”

Just as Rick was about to cleave his axe into the walker’s skull, ricocheting gunfire crackled into the ground, making the dried leaves flutter up with the sudden force, plumes of dust and smoke flying with each bullet.

“Get back to the RV! Go!” yelled Rick. You scrambled up the steps and ran to a concerned Maggie, trembling as you carefully hovered over her, in case any bullets pierced through the walls and accidentally hit her. Carl and Sasha began shooting blindly into the woods, having not a clue where all the shots were coming from. Rick surged forward and thrust his axe down onto one of the walker’s rotting arms, effectively leaving a gap open for the RV to drive through.

The rest of the group rushed inside, and Abraham practically threw himself into the driver’s seat to get the RV moving.

The shots died away after a few minutes. With shallow, inconsistent breaths, you slid off of Maggie, slumping down beside her. She croaked out a question, but it fell upon deaf ears, ringing with static and white noise. A warm tear fell from your burning eyes, and you quickly brushed it away with the back of your palm.

Something happened to Daryl. And it was killing you that you couldn’t help him. That you didn’t even know where he was.

You looked out the window through a watery film of tears, watching the yellow-green fields pass by in a blur. A quick glance at the lowering sun told you that the group was going to lose daylight soon enough, as well.

A strange, creaking noise was coming from below the RV.

“What’s that sound?” said Sasha, worried.

“Undercarriage could’ve caught a bullet,” replied Eugene. “Could be transmission. Could be nothing.”

Agitated, Rick growled out, “They were firing at our feet. They blocked the road, but they weren’t trying to stop us.”

“They want us in this direction,” you murmured, making his wild gaze swivel to you. You gestured to the map. “Rick, they know we’re coming. They know we wanna go North.”

“Meadows would take us East a piece,” said Eugene, “but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”

It would take too long, you thought. Maggie doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore.

Shaking her head, Sasha said, “We’re down to a third of a tank—we could top off at the next stop, but it’s risky. We can’t have any refills after that.”

A low moan fell from Maggie’s pale lips as a wave of pain washed over her, moving in and out of a hazy unconsciousness. You were quick to check her temperature, blanching at the fact that she was nearly scalding to the touch. You quickly placed the damp cloth to her skin again, trying your best to keep her temperature down.

“Rick, she’s burning up,” you told him, voice thick with worry.

It was then that the RV came to another stop.

This time, there were more saviors—around three dozen, maybe even four.

“Go back,” said Rick, eyes wide and stress evidently painted across his strained features.

Abraham squared his jaw. “We have nowhere to go back to.”

With a shaky breath, you stroked Maggie’s head, your heart shattering into millions of pieces. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” you said, a sob bubbling in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—I wish I could do something, I’m sorry.”

Disoriented and not having heard a word of your apologetic babbling, Maggie croaked out, “Are we there yet?”

More tears slipped down your cheeks. Rick was by your side, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on Maggie’s arm. You stifled your sobs with your palm, and Rick replied in your stead.

“Yeah, Maggie. We’re—we’re getting there.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered lethargically. “Were there… I heard shots.”

Rick’s expression softened. “Yeah, the Saviors—they’re gone now. We’re gonna get you there.”

A ghost of a smile tilted the corner of Maggie’s lips up. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay,” you told her, sniffling. “The baby’s going to be okay. This isn’t the end.”

“There’s more,” agreed Rick. “There’s gonna be more, I promise.”

A beat of silence.

“I believe in you, Rick,” she hoarsely said. Maggie’s gaze slowly moved from Rick to you. “In both of you.”

Maggie was asleep again. You made sure to give her plenty of water and what was left of the antibiotics you had saved—but that was the very last bit of supply you had. There was little else you could do for her other than getting her to Hilltop for the proper medicine and treatment she needed.

“So what’s the play?” asked Abraham. “They’ve cut us off every turn we made.”

“She needs medicine,” said Rick, desperation lacing each word. “She’ll die without it.”

“We only have two plausible routes North from here. They’ve cornered us,” Sasha whispered, gaze trained on the map.

Hopelessness laid uneasy on all of your shoulders.

“They’re probably waiting for us right now,” said Aaron.

Eugene gritted his teeth. “So, they’re ahead of us. Heck, probably even behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se—they’re waitin’ on this rust bucket. They don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket. And the sun sets soon.”

“We need to leave now if we want Maggie to make it to Hilltop,” you said, voice trembling with a myriad of guilt, anger, and frustration. “We carry Maggie, and we go on foot. Through the woods. They can’t block us there.”

Eugene took the RV in hopes of tricking the Saviors. Everybody else in the group set off into the woods, taking turns carrying Maggie on the makeshift stretcher, bundled under two layers of blankets. The sun had long set, and the whispering winds were cold this time of year.

“Just let me walk it,” she rasped, voice scratchy and throat dry.

“No,” you were quick to reply. “You’re in no condition to walk right now, Maggie. It’s only a few more miles. Just rest up a bit more, okay?”

Though she didn’t look happy, Maggie didn’t protest any further, letting her tired eyes slip shut once more.

After a couple more minutes, Aaron stepped in to carry one end of the stretcher for you, telling you that you also needed to rest your arms for a second. With a grateful nod, you reluctantly let go, falling into stride with Carl.

“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his hand brushing yours, his nonverbal way of saying that he was here for you if you needed him. “I’m sure Daryl and Michonne are fine. They’re fighters. Maggie’s going to be fine, too.”

You sent him a fond, but tired smile. “Yeah, I hope so, kiddo,” you told him, cuffing his shoulder affectionately. The thought of Daryl out there, probably worried sick for you as well, made your stomach twist into knots. “I really hope so.”

It was at that moment, a shrill whistle sounded out from the darkness of the forest. The group halted in their tracks. One by one, more whistles were added to the ear-splitting melody. It sounded like there were dozens, if not a hundred voices surrounding you.

“Go!” yelled Rick. “Go!”

The rest of you broke out in a sprint, and you grabbed Carl’s hand, winding around tree trunks and hopping over overgrown roots, ignoring the stinging scrapes of twisting branches against your face.

The whistling only continued, growing louder, louder, louder—

Until you came face to face with the source itself.

Car lights suddenly flashed open, momentarily blinding you. You drew Carl closer to you, instinctively protecting him, but it was no use. They had your group surrounded. Saviors, hundreds of them, gathered around you with leering expressions. All of them were clutching guns.

Raw fear curled around your lungs when you saw Eugene on his knees not too far from you, tears dripping down his face.

Rick looked destroyed. Devastated.

You were shaking so hard that your knees began to buckle beneath you.

Finally, the whistling began to dwindle away.

From the crowd, stepped out a familiar face—the man with a hideous pornstache that stopped the RV on the initial route.

“Good,” he called out. He swept his arms out in a faux inviting gesture. “You made it. Welcome to where you’re going—because you ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we’re done with you. We’ll take your weapons.”

When he pointed a gun straight at Maggie, you immediately did as he said, pulling out the pistol wedged in your belt. There was a knife inside your boot, but you weren’t too keen on giving that up yet. You tossed your pistol on the ground just as Abraham threw down his rifle. The rest of the group followed suit.

Trembling, Rick spat out, “We can talk about this—”

“We’re done talking,” interrupted Pornstache. “Okay. Get her down, and let’s get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

“She can’t,” you snarled, stepping in front of Maggie protectively. “She’s sick, she can’t—”

“Oh, she’ll be far worse than just sick if you don’t get her on her knees,” the man easily rebutted, eyes roaming over your protective form.

Lips trembling, you turned around, and with Abraham on her other side, you helped Maggie limp off the stretcher and gently set her down on her knees. Your eyes glistened and warbled with unshed tears. Maggie could only shake her head, as if telling you that it wasn’t your fault.

Terrified, Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. He’d failed you. All of you.

“Gonna need you on your knees, sweetheart,” said Pornstache, slowly dragging the end of his gun up your cheek with a salacious grin.

With a withering glare, you sank down beside Maggie, Rick on your left side, breathing haggard and lips quaking. Sasha and Abraham followed suit. Carl was the last, fists clenched by his sides.

“Dwight!” whistled Pornstache. “Chop chop! Bring out the others!”

A blonde man with half of his face horribly marred by what looked to be a severe burn injury, stepped forward, yanking open the back of a truck.

And, to your horror, he dragged out your boyfriend, covered in blood—blood that you could only pray wasn’t his, even though you knew deep down that that was only wishful thinking. Following Daryl was Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, equally distraught.

Daryl caught your eye for a brief second, pure terror within his irises. He looked over you to make sure that you were alright, and you did the same with him, a tear slipping down your cheek.

I love you, you mouthed to him. He dipped his head once in understanding, before forcing his gaze away, not wanting to give the Saviors anymore reason to torture either of you.

“Maggie…?” Glenn painfully rasped once he caught sight of his wife in such a state. He tried to make his way to her, but the Saviors grabbed his arms and forced him down, guns digging harshly into his back.

“Alright!” exclaimed Pornstache. “We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man, eh?”

He knocked twice on the door to the RV you were in not even an hour ago.

The door slowly swung open, squeaking on its hinges.

And out strode a tall man clad in a leather jacket, a bat covered in barbed wire hanging off his shoulder. He took his sweet time making his way towards the group, feet languidly dragging along the gravelly dirt, and a smirk accentuating his smug expression.

“Pissing our pants yet?” he drawled, voice tapering into a light chuckle as he stepped out into the light, smiling down at your group on your knees. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close. Mm, yeah—it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Now which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pornstache pointed at Rick. “It’s this one here.”

The man with the bat grinned wider, before stepping right in front of Rick, who craned his neck to glare up at him. “Hi there. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killin’ my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people… you killed more of my people. Not cool, man. Not cool. You have… no fuckin’ idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Mmh, yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” A dangerous, wolfish grin flashed across Negan’s face. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what—you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes—pay attention.”

He lowered his bat off his shoulder and slotted the barbed end right below Rick’s chin. You held in your breath, your entire body wracking with tremors. Though you knew you needed to stop, you couldn’t help but chance glances at Daryl every so often, your concern for him rapidly growing. Some of that was his blood, it had to be—his eyes were sunken with exhaust and his chest, the very chest you would fall asleep on every night, was rising and falling unevenly, making you believe he was hurt, but you just couldn’t see what was hurting him.

“Give me your shit… or I will kill you. See? Simple as that.” Negan pulled the bat away from Rick, and began walking around the group as he spoke. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it, you most certainly will! You ruled the roost. You built something, Rick. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged—more pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. If that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door… you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us? And we will knock it down. You understand?”

Rick swallowed heavily. Narrowing his keen eyes, Negan cupped his ear and leaned down closer to the kneeling man.

“What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were going to get through this without being punished, now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. I just wanna make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me—and you can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growin’ a garden. But you killed my people—a whole damn lot of ‘em! More than I’m comfortable with, honestly. And for that… for that you’re gonna pay.”

Your hands curled into fists on your knees. You knew what was coming. And you’d be damned if you were going to let it happen.

“So, now… I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” Negan inhaled sharply, as if he enjoyed prolonging the torture. He bent down once more, showing off the barbed bat. “This right here—this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this… all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor!”

Negan stopped in front of Abraham, who straightened and glared defiantly at the smirking man. In thought, Negan subconsciously rubbed his bearded jaw with one hand at the sight of Abraham’s own mustache. “Huh. I gotta shave this shit.”

On he strolled, before halting in front of Carl. “You had one of our guns. Hm. You got a lot of our guns.” Carl only scowled at the man. “Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little.”

Chuckling, Negan moved on.

You could feel one of your eyes twitch when you saw his shoes stop right in front of you. His bat was beneath your chin in an instant, forcing you to look up. The sharp metal on the bat painfully scratched against your jaw, and fresh tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“My, my, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, darlin’?”

Hatred simmered within your chest, but you forced your expression to remain indifferent.

You quietly told him your name, wincing when his bat dug deeper into your neck and he ordered you to say it louder. You repeated yourself, voice cracking. A single tear meandered down your cheek and slid down your chin, dripping onto Lucille.

Negan hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Now that’s what I want to see, folks! A little emotion around here—Y/N’s got the gist of it!”

“Kill me,” you gritted out, making the rest of the group’s eyes widen. You could feel Rick’s stare burning holes straight through you, but you refused to meet his gaze, staring straight up at Negan. “You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. Let them go. Maggie, on my right, she’s real sick and she needs medicine—if she doesn’t get the proper treatment soon, she’ll… she’ll…”

The man in front of you barked out an amused laugh. “She’ll what?”

“She’ll die,” you snarled. “So kill me. Get it over with—and let them go.”

And for a split second, you let your eyes return to Daryl, one last time. He wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that Negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

But it was all futile. He noticed anyway.

He followed your gaze over to Daryl, lowering his bat to gesture between the two of you.

“Ah… you two are a thing, ain’t ya? Damn. And here I thought you were available for takin’, sugar.” Negan tossed his head back and chuckled with mild disappointment. “God, look at you bein’ all heroic, offering yourself up for the chopping block! No, no, darlin’, this ain’t a game of who gets to be a martyr and save their friends. You don’t decide what’s happening here. I do. You think I don’t know you’re the doctor of the group? My people have been reporting to me—they know you’ve been the one taking care of Little Miss Sickly over there. No… you’re far too valuable for me to kill. We need more people like you, darlin’. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bash in your pretty little face, now, would I?”

With a hum, Negan stepped away from you, fixing his gaze upon Maggie.

“Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now—!”

“NO!” screamed Glenn, scrambling onto his feet and lunging at Negan. Before he could even begin to make contact, Dwight grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, threateningly shoving Daryl’s crossbow into his face.

Maggie cried out—both from a fresh wave of pain seeping through her bones, and from the sight of her husband being dragged back to his spot like a ragdoll.

Huffing out a sigh, Negan grunted out, “Nope. Nope, nope, get him back in line.”

Glenn screamed, choking back a sob. “No… don’t. Don’t!”

Negan could only smile. “Alright, alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again—I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one’s free—it’s an emotional moment. I get it. Mmh. Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.”

Rick trembled violently beside you. Tilting his head, Negan glanced between him and Carl, realization dawning upon him when he noticed the physical similarities between the two.

“This is your kid, right? Ohoho, that is definitely your kid!”

“JUST STOP THIS!” yelled Rick, so sudden that it made you flinch.

Equivalent in volume, Negan bellowed back, “HEY! Do not make me kill your little future serial killer! Don’t make it easy on me! I gotta pick somebody—everybody’s at the table waitin’ for me to order, hm?”

The man whistled out a shrill tune, one that sent a shiver dance down your spine.

“I simply cannot decide. But I got an idea.” With that, he pointed the bat at Rick. “Eenie.”

He moved to you, before narrowing his eyes, and skipped over to Maggie. “Meenie.”

Abraham. “Minie.”

Michonne. “Mo.”

Glenn. “Catch.”

Daryl. “A tiger.”

Rosita. “By.”

Eugene. “His toe.”

Sasha. “If.”

Aaron. “He hollers.”

Carl. “Let him go.”

And so on he went.

My mother told me to pick the very best one. And you… are… it.

Your heart dropped when the end of his bat stopped in front of Abraham.

No. No… no… no…

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start! You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doin’ that!”

And with that, he swung the bat back and brought it clean down on Abraham’s head.

Screams erupted from around you. You could feel your vision blur over with your tears, and you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to see such a gruesome sight, curling in on yourself as you listened to the repeated, sickening squelch of Negan’s bat repeatedly hitting your dear friend. Negan gloated and laughed and jeered. You cried and sobbed and flinched with every strike.

His blood—Abraham’s blood—splattered on your face. You could feel it.

Warm, moist, and thick. Dripping down your cheek.

“You guys… look at my dirty girl!” proclaimed Negan, jutting out the bloody bat for all to witness. The monster of a man tilted his head at Rosita, whose eyes were horrified and bloodshot, dripping with fat tears. “Sweetheart… lay your eyes on this!”

When Rosita began to cry harder, Negan hummed. “Oh, damn. Were you… were you guys together? That sucks. If you were, you should know—there was a reason for all this. Red—and damn if that isn’t a good name for him—he just took one, or six, or seven for the team! So take… a damn… look.”

Rosita refused to move her gaze from Abraham’s mutilated corpse.

And, much to your horror, Daryl growled out as he surged forward on his feet, landing a clean punch against Negan’s jaw. You screamed out his name when three Saviors grabbed him and beat him back onto the ground, pinning him tightly against the gravel. A sob wracked through your frame and you could feel your stomach twist into itself. Daryl was still struggling against them, clutching his side as he panted out.

“No!” yelled Negan, clearly furious. “Oh, no. That—is a big no-no. The whole thing—not one fucking bit of that shit flies here!”

Terror clutched at your palpitating heart when Negan shoved Lucille right up into Daryl’s face, smearing Abraham’s blood all over him.

Dwight strode up and pointed Daryl’s own crossbow against the back of your boyfriend’s head. A sob fell from your lips. You couldn’t watch this—you just couldn’t.

“Daryl,” you cried out, hiccupping through your words. “Negan… no. No, please, don’t! I’ll do anything, please! Not him. Please, not him!”

Amused at your pleading, Negan casted a sidelong glance to you, before grabbing at Daryl’s hair and pulling him upright. “See what you did there, Buckaroo? You got your little partner all upset! Look, they’re crying their eyes out, worried for you.” Negan got back up on his feet. “Get him back in line,” he barked, though his eyes were trained on you.

And in two quick strides, he was back in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his gloved hand. “Look at you, darlin’, all covered in blood. Would it be weird if I say it makes my dick hard as fuck?” You scowled, trying your best to pull your face away from his uncomfortably rough grip. “Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart—your boyfriend here didn’t listen to me earlier. I said the first one was free, didn’t I? And what does that mean? Second one’s got a price, hm? I said I’d shut that shit down—no exceptions. I don’t know what kind of lyin’ assholes y’all have been dealing with… but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important! I need you all to know me. Know that I’m not joking around with this shit. Now, if you weren’t a doctor and you weren’t so fuckin’ hot—I would’ve bashed your head to pieces without battin’ an eye! But, lookie here, I’m faced with another dilemma. I need to kill another one of you to get my point across.”

A wail bubbled up in your throat and you began to claw at Negan’s fingers now painfully squeezing your jaw. “No… please, please… don’t, please—!”

“And I want you, darlin’, to pick which one of your little friends I kill.”

“No!” you spat, breathing shallow and panicked. “Me—just kill me, Negan—you don’t have to hurt anyone else, please, please, let them go, you—”

Getting irritated with you, Negan shook your face until you stopped blubbering. “You’re not listenin’ to me. Pick. Someone. Not you, and not your little boyfriend. I want him to live with the fact that one of his friends died because of him. Pick someone. Anyone, sweetheart. You’ll be doin’ em a favor, honestly. They get to save the rest of you from a miserable death! Now, doesn’t that sound appealing?”

A beat of silence. Negan stared you down, and you glared right back.

“Eat my shit,” you snarled out.

Narrowing his eyes, Negan finally relinquished his hold on you. You gasped for breath, chest heaving, stabilizing yourself with your hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you’re feisty! Might have to keep you around after this—holy fuckin’ shit. Mmh, alright… fine, then. Since you won’t pick—I’ll just have to kill your precious patient’s boyfriend, hm?”

Before any of you could react, Negan spun on his heel and arced his bat through the air, right onto Glenn’s head. Again, and again, and again.

A piercing scream echoed across the forest. Maggie’s scream.

Your mouth dropped open as a silent cry scratched down the sides of your throat.

Glenn was still alive, somehow, after all those bashes. Blood caked his entire skull and part of his head was caved in—to your nauseating horror, one of his eyes had come out of its socket.

“Buddy, you still there?” exclaimed Negan in astonishment, bending down to inspect his handiwork. “I just don’t know… seems to me like you’re tryin’ to say something! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just cracked your skull so hard, your eyeball popped right out! And it is gross as shit!”

After all that, Glenn managed to slur out, “Maggie… I’ll find you.”

Sobs rang throughout the clearing. The rest of the group cried tears for Glenn—without him, all of you would’ve been dead three times over.

“Awh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” said Negan. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I did say… no exceptions!”

With that, he brought down his bat again. Over, and over, and over.

Maggie cried so hard her voice started to give out.

Daryl, your beloved Daryl, flinched with every stroke of the bat, his eyes red and puffy with tears. You could see it already—the guilt behind his gaze. He thought it was his fault Glenn was killed.

You shut your eyes again.

“Lucille is thirsty! She’s a vampire bat!” proudly declared Negan, as he swung one final hit on Glenn’s long-dead body. “What? Was the joke that bad? Tough crowd, huh?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” whispered Rick once Negan was done. Rick had blood splattered all over his face, as well. Abraham’s blood. Glenn’s blood.

Negan squatted down beside him, tilting his head. His bat was dangerously close to you. “What? I didn’t quite catch that, Rick. You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Squaring his jaw, Rick drew in a sharp inhale. “Not today… not tomorrow… but I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan sucked at his teeth. “Jesus,” he softly said. “Simon. What did he have? A knife?”

Pornstache raised his brows. “He had a hatchet. An axe.”

Snorting, Negan shook his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without ‘em? A whole lot of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh… or did I…”

The man waved the bloodied bat in front of Rick’s face, taunting him.

“Sure, yeah. Give me his axe.” Pornstache handed Negan the small weapon and Negan smugly slid it into his belt. Suddenly, Negan grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and yanked him up, practically dragging him by the scruff towards the RV. Your breath hitched, wanting to stop him, but all the guns trained on the backs of your friends made you freeze. All you could do was lower your head and stave away your raucous sobs.

“I’ll be right back, folks! Maybe Rick will be with me! And if not… well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we? I mean… the ones that are left!”

They were gone for hours.

During those hours, part of you wanted to go to Maggie, comfort her, check if both she and the baby were alright. No doubt she was in a tremendous amount of both emotional and physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go to Daryl, curl up in the safety of his arms and cry into his chest.

But you couldn’t do either. Not with the Saviors pointing the barrels of their rifles to the back of your skulls.

The sun was already beginning to rise, tinting the sky a sweet, soft shade of blue. A stark juxtaposition to the dark red blood steadily drying on the rocky ground.

When Rick got back, Negan ruthlessly threw him down in front of the group. He looked exhausted. More than that—he looked dead inside. The light behind his eyes was gone.

“Do you know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan.

Rick looked around wildly, as if making sure that everyone else was alright.

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan hissed.

Begrudgingly, Rick bowed his head. “Okay… okay.”

Negan wolfishly grinned, though there was a dark glimmer to his irises that you misliked. “That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you’re still lookin’ at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work!” Once again, Negan squatted down beside Rick, that smug expression still plastered across the man’s coarse features. “So… do I give you another chance?”

After a moment’s pause, Rick hacked out, “Yeah. Yes.”

Satisfied, Negan clapped Rick on the back, before getting back up onto his feet. “Alright! Here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone’s last crap day… or just another crap day. Get some more guns to the back of their heads. Level with their noses, so if you have to fire… it’ll be a real fuckin’ mess.”

You could feel cold metal graze the very top of your temple.

“Kid, come here,” said Negan, making your heart plummet to your stomach. Rick’s expression shifted to one of pure dread.

Carl didn’t move.

“Kid… now.”

With cautious movements, Carl stood up in front of the taller man.

“You a southpaw?” asked Negan while he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of its loops.

“Am I a what?”

“A lefty,” clarified Negan.

Carl scowled. “No.”

“Good,” retorted Negan, before grabbing Carl’s left arm and tying the belt around his bicep. “That hurt?”

Gritting his teeth, Carl bit out a negative.

“It should. It’s supposed to.” Negan smirked, knocking Carl’s cowboy hat off his head. “Alright, get down on the ground next to daddy, kid. Spread them wings!”

Slowly, Carl lowered himself down beside Rick, his cheek pressed flat against the dusty gravel.

“Simon, you got a pen?”

Pornstache nodded, brandishing a marker from his pocket and tossing it over to Negan. The man uncapped the black pen with his teeth, flashing you a wink and spitting out the cap somewhere to the side. He kneeled down by Carl to draw a straight line just below the junction of his elbow.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s dick, as if he were hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm! Gives you a little leverage, don’t it?”

Stammering, Rick muttered out, “Please… please don’t. Please don’t.”

Negan tilted his head, lightly chuckling. “Me? Oh, I ain’t doin’ shit. Rick… I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off—right on that line! Now, I know you gotta process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though—I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then your kid dies. Then the people back home die. Then you… eventually. I’d keep you breathing for a few years just so you could stew on it!”

“You… you don’t have to do this,” pleaded Michonne. It was the first time she’d spoken since she got out of the truck. Seeing Carl splayed out in front of her, practically her son, made something inside her snap. “We understand. We get it, we—”

“You might understand! I’m not so sure Rick here does. I’m gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice. You remember those, right? Nothin’ messy. I want a clean, forty-five degree cut. Give us somethin’ to fold over. You got Y/N right there to fix him up nice and good. The kid’ll be just fine. Probably.”

Rick was just about losing his mind, rocking back and forth, murmuring incoherently beneath his breath. Sweat dripped down his bloodied face, his hair, mixing with the salty tears leaking from his crazed eyes.

“Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Before I crush the little fella’s skull myself.”

Swallowing down his sobs, Rick choked, “It can—it can… it can be me. It can be me. Wh… you… you could do it to me. I c-can go with—with you.”

Negan smiled at his desperation. “No. This is the only way. Pick up the axe, Rick. Not making a decision is a big decision, let me tell you that. You really wanna see all these people die? Because you will—if you don’t PICK UP THE FUCKING AXE!”

Rick began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, my God,” said Negan, pulling at his face wearily. “You gonna make me count? Okay, Rick—you win. I’ll start counting. Three!”

“PLEASE!” screamed Rick. “IT CAN BE ME. PLEASE!”

“Two!” Negan kneeled down and slapped a sobbing Rick across the face, before grabbing his cheeks, not unlike he did with you hours before. “This is it, Rick. Make a decision. One!”

With a gut wrenching scream, Rick’s trembling fingers curled around the handle of his axe.

“Dad…” whispered Carl. A tear slipped down your cheek as the events unfolded in front of you. “Just do it.”

Rick cocked his arm back, seconds away from bringing it down to cleave Carl’s hand off.

But Negan grabbed Rick’s wrist at the very last second, stopping him.

The man smirked, pleased with himself. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”

Frantically, Rick nodded his head.

“SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TO! You answer to me. You provide for me!”

“I’ll provide for you!” cried Rick.

“You belong to me! Right?” hollered Negan.

Hiccuping a sob, Rick bobbed his head. “Right.”

“Now that… that is the look I wanted to see.” Negan grabbed Rick’s axe from him and stepped away. “We did it. All of us, together. Even the dead guys on the ground! Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure! Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sake… that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you before… that is over now.”

Negan clapped his hands together, sighing out in relief.

And strangely, you were slightly relieved, as well. Maybe he was done. He wasn’t going to kill any more of you. This was all over for now.

Right?

“Dwight,” said Negan. “Load him up.”

To your shock, Negan pointed Lucille straight at Daryl.

“See, he’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” Negan told Rick. “I like him. He’s mine now. You still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? I will cut pieces off of… what’s his name?”

“Daryl,” said Pornstache.

“Wow. That actually sounds just about right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep! Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me.”

“No…” you croaked out, when Dwight grabbed your boyfriend and dragged him back to the truck as if he were a wild animal, crossbow pointed at his chest. Maggie sobbed from beside you. “No, Daryl… please, no, don’t—please don’t take him from me!” you cried. “Please, I need him… Daryl!”

Negan smiled down at you. “Mmh. Alrighty, then. I’ll take you, too. Come on.”

A gasp lodged in your throat when he suddenly grabbed your arm and yanked you upwards.

“No, wait, I’m the only doctor they have, they need—Maggie needs m—!”

“I don’t give a rat’s flying blue ass,” growled Negan, shoving you in the direction of the truck, where Daryl watched you with wide, scared eyes. You craned your neck around to look at Rick and Maggie and the rest of the group—your family—one last time, unsure of when, if ever, you’d see them again. “You’re mine now. Got a whole lot of shit you can do for me, that’s for sure, darlin’. Load ‘em up!”

One of the Saviors pushed you into the truck just as Negan yelled out, “Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I’ll leave you a truck. Keep it—use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then… ta-fuckin’-ta.”

You collapsed straight into Daryl once you were inside, thundering sobs spilling from your lungs. He wrapped his burly arms around you, smelling of dirt and blood and motor oil. No words needed to be said. No words could be said.

The both of you had lost so much today.

And now… you’d lost your freedom, as well.

Daryl began crying into your shoulder, and you could only hold him all the tighter.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon oneshot #twd angst #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon drabbles #negan smith x reader #negan x reader #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon ff #daryl dixon fanfic

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vroomvroomcircuit · 25 days

Text

Drive all Night

(A/N): This is inspired by the song "Call your mom" by Noah Kahan.

Summary: Max is worried about the sudden shift in his best friends behavior. But he is willing to drive all night to get to the root of the problem.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (little childhood friends to lovers on the side with angst/hurt to comfort)

Warnings: Association to Max's shitty childhood, reader has depression/a depressive episode, implicit mentions of suicide, listen to the song and you get the vibe

Wordcount: 2.4k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

Max Verstappen is not a big worrier. Actually, he is no worrier at all.

When there is something to worry about, he just changes it. If he can’t change it, it’s out of his area of responsibility, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.

Thinking like that helped him focus through great challenges. But his mindset wasn’t the only motivator. Through all his highest highs and lowest lows, his best friend has been right next to him, either cheering him on or being the shoulder to cry on he just needed.

(Y/N) and him befriended each other in kindergarten, having felt this unexplainable pull to each other. Ever since playing with Legos together for the first time they had been inseparable if they could help it.

Of course, as they got older and Max’s career in karting took off and (Y/N) had to focus more on school, they started to shift to calling and texting more than relying on in person talking. But that didn’t stop them staying best friends. One might even argue that through their 24/7 updates to each other, they grew even closer.

Meeting in person in their adulthood had become increasingly easier. Sometime (Y/N) travels with Max to several races back to back, being blessed with a remote working job.

The young man starts to suspect something isn’t going smoothly during one of their daily face time calls with her being in her dark bedroom and him in a hotel room halfway across the world. “But enough of how annoying these marketing things are. What did you do today? Except for work of course.” Max just finished another yapping season about the last challenge the social media teams had him participate in.

(Y/N) just shrugs her shoulders while focusing on a loose thread in her shirt. “Nothing much. I reread pride and prejudice.” Max halts a bit in his rummaging through his suitcase, being on the look out for his charger. “I thought you had plans for lunch with a friend? And didn’t you read through that book last week already? You do know that no matter how often you read it, the ending will stay the same.” He jokes a bit.

While still not shifting her gaze towards the phone screen, (Y/N) answers in mumbles. “I canceled on her. I really felt icky today, but we will try to set up another meet up some time next week or so.”

At first Max doesn’t think of it as much. Everyone feels not like socializing every one in a while. But then something else changes. The frequency of their calls and texts.

“...here we can do- Max? Are you even listening to me?” Max gets caught off guard by that question. GP was going over some points with him before starting FP2. “Oh, uhm, sorry GP. Gimme three seconds, I just want to reply to (Y/N). It seems like she didn’t have a great day and I just want to make sure she’ll be alright until I’m out of the car.”

This makes his race engineer raise his eyebrows. “Oh, what happened?” “I don’t know. But she is rewatching one of her comfort shows for the third time in two weeks.” He blinks at the Dutchman. “And in what way is that concerning?”

Okay, voicing his worrisome thoughts out loud like that makes Max realize that the signs are not too obvious for outsiders. But he is talking about his best friend. The person that always makes sure that he won’t go without his needed amount of sleep. The same person he had been having phone calls that resulted in four out of the last seven nights with him getting not more than 5 hours of sleep, if that at all.

For an outsider it doesn’t seem bad for (Y/N) to reread the same books and rewatch the same shows over and over again. Or having her best friend, the person she became emotionally most dependent on, talk with her through her nights.

But for Max, it raises red flags. It hits his alarm bells, ringing out loud that something is majorly wrong. He can’t put his finger on it, not just yet. He is still looking for a way to get her to tell him what is bothering her.

There is a certain uneasiness to Max during that entire race weekend. He is just itching to seat his ass on a plane on his way back to his (Y/N), a friend that he might harbor more than just platonic feelings for. A person that had his back all the time.

To the person he loves the most, that is also struggling the most right now.

He wants to be able to pay her back for all the times she stuck through his darkest times.

But something in him is scared that he isn’t able to get to her in time. “Didn’t you want to go out with a colleague of yours for drinks last night?” Max asks into the phone while speed walking through the airport. Ever since leaving his hotel room on this fine Monday morning, he has been on a phone call with (Y/N).

A sigh greets his ears. “I wanted to, but I didn’t feel like dressing up or sharing a space with a bunch of strangers. I just ordered some food in and watched your race.”

There is another red flag. (Y/N) maybe was never a big socializer to begin with, but she liked going out every now and then. But for a couple of weeks now the only thing Max gets to hear about plans is that she canceled them.

Listening to her just cutting contact with the outside world like that, it doesn’t only worry him. It’s not even scary. It terrifies him.

The two of them continue talking the whole plane ride until (Y/N) falls asleep. Even then Max doesn’t hang up. He still lets the call continue, not wanting her to wake up and feel alone. She doesn’t deserve to feel alone.

No one does. But especially not her.

When he was in karting, some kids gave him grief for winning most of the time. It was difficult for little Max to understand. So do people not want him to win?

It became more confusing to him since some people around him wanted him to win desperately. It hurt him, not understanding the difference of who wanted his best and who wanted to see him fail.

He felt isolated from his peers, especially those who should understand under what pressure he was, because they must feel the same. Right?

During these days, where he rather stopped driving in circles in a very fast manner and just continued playing football, (Y/N) was his only footing. She talked him out of ending his career in motorsport. She painted a picture of his future in the prettiest colors with her words. She gave him something to look forward during these trying times.

And when it got harder before it got easier, she held his hand and reminded him that she will always stay by his side.

Now it’s Max’s turn to show her that he will always stay by her side.

He opens the door to her apartment slowly, trying to make the least noise possible.

Every room is shrouded in what must feel to her like a never ending darkness. The blinds are drawn in front of every window, hindering the tiniest bit of sunlight to filter through. Even to Max it feels like the despair that is in the air will never stop. It is all consuming.

He tiptoes towards her bedroom. There she lays, illuminated by the low light of his phone screen. Curled up tight under a bunch of blankets and between a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals.

The MV lion, the first one that has ever been produced, the original prototype before giving the go for mass production, is held tightly and close to her chest. It pulls on his heartstrings, seeing the comfort it must have brought her while he was absent.

Max kneels down at the head of the bed, gently shaking her awake. “Schatje, come on. Wake up. We got a day of new adventures just in front of us outside the door.”

It’s something they started to say in elementary school. They once read a book in class with the premise that every day is the start to a new adventure. You just have to welcome it in. Back then, when inviting something unknown in your life was considered exciting, not scary or life changing.

“The adventures can wait a day longer.” She mumbles and turns around, trying to shake his hand on her shoulder off. But Max is having none of it.

“The darkness is fooling you. Every light that has been turned off can be turned on.” He gets up and opens the blinds. Sunlight floods the room, and even at the messiest state the young man has seen his best friend, she still is the most beautiful woman on earth to him

(Y/N) lets out a noise of unpleasantness. “Please Max, I can’t deal with it today.” “No, you will. We are going to deal with it, whatever this it is, together.” He marches over to her dresser and produces a clean set of clothes out of thin air. That is what it looks like to her in this mess at least.

“You are going to shower. After that we will take a drive with no destination.” His words are final and in a tone that makes the young woman drag her limbs and body out of the bed and trudge towards the bathroom, even when the unwillingness is evident by her groaning.

Hearing the shower is Max’s cue to sit down and take a deep breath. He doesn’t know what he expected, but seeing the light of life missing in (Y/N)’s eyes isn’t on that list. It feels like a punch to his gut, witnessing her wither away without knowing from what.

It doesn’t take long and they both sit in the car. A drive without destination is exactly what it says. Just Max driving with (Y/N) sitting in the passenger seat. Usually they used these trips to catch up, to talk about everything and nothing. To voice big philosophical thoughts and dumb brain farts. They started this tradition, that usually includes some sort of fast food, when Max got his drivers license.

But sitting in complete silence for five minutes straight. That is something new.

“You know,” Max breaks it after another seven minutes. “Not talking about it won’t make the problem go away. It also doesn’t hinder it in its existence. Instead it will just get heavier and heavier until you break under the weight.” His dry tone isn’t something she anticipated.

(Y/N) looks out the window, seeing the colorful sunset for the first time in weeks. It’s easy to forget the beauty of the world when your inside thoughts feel like a graveyard. “I don’t want to worry you.”

That admission nearly has the Dutchman emergency breaking in the middle of a street through the fields. “So you play cat and mouse with your feelings because you don’t want to worry me?” (Y/N) nods.

Max lets out a laugh. “So what exactly makes you think that me witnessing you just becoming a shell of who you once were won’t worry me?”

She shrugs. (Y/N) didn’t expect him to catch that something feels wrong in her.

“Schatje. I will always worry about you, You are too important to me to not worry about you. Seeing you wither away in yourself, it made me scared going out on these tracks, sitting down in the car, and wondering if you still breathe while I’m driving another mile. Not knowing what you feel, that worries me more than the truth. Because then we can work on getting you better together. But when you don’t let me in, I can’t help and feel like by just standing and witnessing without intervening that I’m at fault for anything that happens to you. It hurts more seeing you hurting than knowing what you hurt from.”

She turns towards Max, mustering his side profile. She hasn’t thought about how her actions are perceived by her surroundings. (Y/N) just fell into that hole of darkness unexpectedly. While sitting at the bottom of that somber pit, she thought that trying to reach out for help would mean another person gets pulled into it.

If there was one person she doesn’t want sitting next to her in that dark hole, then it is Max. She harbors too much love and affection for him to want him to suffer the same fate as her. So not talking about her darkest thoughts seemed like the best way of keeping him far away from the hole.

But it just drew him in closer.

(Y/N) finally sees what he saw the whole time.

“You know, it’s hard to explain what happened. It takes time to really understand what goes on in me right now.” Max puts a reassuring hand on her leg. “We have all night to talk about it. Help me help you. Let us find a strategy to get you better. May it be medication, meditation, punching me or falling in love with someone. I need you to find a reason to stay with me, physically and mentally.”

She puts a hand over hers and looks Max in the eye for the first time since he arrived. “I already fell in love.”

He doesn’t need to hear more.

Max keeps his promise. He drives through the night, holding (Y/N) to the best of his ability while she cries, curses and explains.

By that not everything is picture perfect again. But it’s the first step. The first one to a future they both want to share with each other. For now and ever, that is enough motivation for (Y/N) to keep going, to continue turning every light on that was off.

#max verstappen image #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x you #reader insert

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reiderwriter · 9 months

Note

Could you do a story with Spencer and fem reader that is also in the Bau and they are in a relationship but then spencer finds out that she hid Emily’s death from him and they are arguing about it? But not breaking up :)

A/N: Thank you for the request! I think this turned out more comfort than hurt, so my apologies if you were looking for something angstier ㅠ^ㅠ

Word count: 0.7k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, spoilers for season 6/7 (Ian Doyle arc).

Here's my masterlist, my requests are open~

You could tell he was angry by the set of his jaw, by the heads up that JJ had given you, and by the fact that he hadn’t crawled into your bed at all for the last week. To say that finding out that Emily had been alive when you’d all buried her was a lot to take in for Reid was an understatement.

Finding out that you, his girlfriend of almost an entire year, had known the entire time hadn’t exactly gone well.

The first day, he couldn’t even look at you. A week in, and you were desperate to have his arms wrapped around you again, and you found yourself pushing him into an interrogation room while on a case, forcing the confrontation that had been brewing this entire time.

“Spencer, goddamn it, look at me, please,” you begged the man, desperate for him to finally hear you out.

“Y/N, we are working a case, this is not the time, and frankly this is highly unprofessional.” He refused to meet your eyes, instead shooting off his looks to the floor, making to turn his back on you.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I’ve apologised a million times, so has JJ, so has Hotch. You know we couldn’t say anything.”

“There was a lot you could have said, actually, Y/N. How about, ‘hey, Emily’s alive,’ for one!” His tone was mocking but you knew the hurt ran deep.

“I was following orders, Spencer.”

“I shouldn’t be an order, Y/N, I’m your boyfriend, not an assignment.” His words cut and you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Spencer, we only started dating a few weeks before everything happened, I was…” you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself down before you finally admitted your fears out loud.

“I was afraid you didn’t actually love me. That I came along at a convenient time, and that you just needed the comfort I was giving you, and that if you knew that Emily was alive, you’d realise that I wasn’t actually worth that much to you and you’d leave.” Your voice shook with the effort it took to get the words out, but you finally felt his gaze on yours.

“So yes, I followed orders, Spencer. But I was scared and afraid, and we’d already lost Emily and I couldn’t lose you, too.” You finally drew your gaze up to meet him, and almost let out a gasp at the expression on his face, heartbreak so clearly depicted you wanted to ball him up in your arms and hold him.

It was when he crossed the room and did just that for you, circling you in his hold and squeezing you as tight as was comfortable that you realised his heart was breaking for you, that his expression was a reflection of your own.

“I may still be angry for a while, okay, it’s a lot to process, but I need you to listen to me.” He whispered the words into your hair, having tucked your head into his neck, letting you bury your face from view.

“I love you. I have been in love with you for three years. Secretly, at first when I thought you didn't feel the same, and then when you did, it felt like coming home. So nothing, not even this is going to stop me from loving you.” Another sob wracked through your body, but he kept his hold of you.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you have kept me in one piece for the last year and I can only imagine how hard that was for you.”

He pulled away from you slightly, letting his hand cup your face as he forced you to look up into his eyes.

“It’s just going to take some time, but I’m yours, and that’s not going to change.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and then pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and just holding you to him.

With that promise, your mind eased up, and you stood there with him; grateful for his presence and his love.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds angst #Requested

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rqgnarok · 10 months

Text

delicate - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 3,589

warnings: no mentions of specific pronouns for reader, jamie being a lil self deprecating, mentions of his dad, allusions to smut but, like, barely. set in season 2.

summary: jamie hadn’t planned on dating. his reputation’s never been worse. but then he met you.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie’s nervous.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Dating had been the last thing on his mind after his life fell apart. Leaving Man City, joining and being kicked out of a reality show, and coming back to Richmond with his tail between his legs– it had all been a domino effect; a very bad, terrible, decision after another.

Jamie hadn’t planned on dating. His reputation’s never been worse. But then he met you.

He’d gone out to some dive bar with a so-called friend of his– some guy he met during the production of Love Island that loved weed and Jamie’s connections– on a fucking Tuesday, of all days. Jamie was supposed to be in bed because training started at 7 sharp the next morning, and the last thing he needed was to show up late and tired. Instead, he’d been in a back alleyway behind a club downtown, moping and drinking his third fruity drink of the night, sweet and heavy with alcohol.

It was a stupid idea, but he was lonely. The certified-prick plaque that he usually wore so proudly wasn’t so shiny anymore and his dad had been blowing up his phone about everything he was doing wrong– what he wore, how he combed his hair, who he hung out with, the failures that landed him back at Richmond.

Jamie had been in need of alcohol and human company and up to that point of the night he was 50% on his way. He was considering finishing his drink and calling it a night when the muffled beat of the music inside the building exploded behind him, becoming so much louder it rattled his teeth.

Someone came out the back door, he realized. You; pretty with your own drink in hand, looking around. Your eyes fell on him and he sat a little straighter on the curb, unsure of what kind of attention he was gonna get.

You blinked. “Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone here.”

“Sorry,” he answered automatically. He’d been doing a lot of apologies as of late. “Was a bit stuffy in there, ain’t it? It’s usually alone in here.”

He expected his accent to be a dead giveaway, gearing himself up for a photo or an autograph or a rant about something he’d done to upset you somehow. Instead, you smiled at him and turned towards the ground, shy.

Cute, Jamie had thought. He’d been doomed from the start.

“Yeah. Don’t know what we were thinking, going out on a Tuesday,” you’d rolled your eyes, referring to the group of friends that had refused to take no for an answer and dragged you clubbing not even halfway through the week. “Like a hangover’s exactly what I need to get through this week.”

“That bad, huh,” Jamie raised his eyebrows in amusement, watching you huff and puff under the streetlight the back of the club offered. He hoped you couldn’t see him very well, his dark jeans and Nikes along with his designer shirt were pretty much footballer prick Jamie Tartt’s trademark, recognizable even to the worst of drunks. But Jamie didn’t want to be recognized, he just wanted to talk to someone.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” you huffed, sipping your drink and obviously giving him an out. You’d both come out here for some peace and quiet, after all, but Jamie was done with quiet.

He wanted his friends back. He wanted his efforts to be noticed, for his dad to leave him alone, and to enjoy the company of a pretty stranger at the back of a bar.

So instead of following your cue, he patted the spot next to him, looking up at you with an attentive expression. “Try me.”

And so you did. You sat next to him and talked until three in the morning. Suddenly the bar was closing and the dark cloud that hung over Jamie’s head for months was momentarily dispersed in your presence. He went home with your number on a napkin and less than four hours to catch up on sleep before he had to go to work, but a happy man.

And, okay, look. Jamie’s popularity is– in the dumps, really. It’s all negativity at this point, and he usually balanced it with good football, but that was back when he took any honest criticism of his person as petty jealousy. Now, with his shattered self-image and after becoming the internet’s laughing stock, he’s been trying his best to keep his head down

since the media and most of England trashes him whenever he dares to take a breath in public.

At least his mum’s talking to him again, or rather Jamie’s finally picking up when she calls, but things still don’t feel right. He’s playing and getting enough minutes but it’s not a victory if he can’t hug his teammates when he scores a goal. If he comes home to an empty apartment and no messages on his phone, no one to celebrate the night with.

So, pretty much everyone hates him. Even Keeley’s bordering on forced politeness these days, which says a lot about how badly Jamie’s done it this time, and yet–

And yet.

“The fuck are you smiling about?” Isaac grunted when he caught sight of Jamie biting back a grin while typing, lacking his usual bruv. Still in the doghouse, apparently. “Won’t kill you to be early for once, ey? Put that fucking thing away.”

Jamie did, not before a quick look at his texts before pressing send.

hey

its jamie from the bar??

was wondering if u wanted to go out sometime. i really enjoyed spending the other night with u

He spent all training missing his cues, taking fouls from his teammates, and making Ted’s mustache twitch with… not disappointment but something. It made him a little nervous, but any thought about it flew out his head when he got his hands on his phone at the end of the day, your notifications on his lock screen.

Hi, I’d love to!

I really enjoyed being with you too :)

Is tomorrow night too early?

It wasn’t. But your schedules were nightmares to line up and you spent almost three weeks trying to catch up to each other. You had a work thing, Jamie came back too tired from a game, you had a friend visit, another game was rescheduled… You name it. Anything that could’ve stopped that date from happening happened.

But neither of you were giving up. While you couldn’t see each other, your text thread grew and grew and grew, never running out of things to talk about. Despite having seen you only once in person, Jamie was pretty sure he knew you better than he’d ever know other girlfriends and boyfriends he’d had.

When you texted him to get a good night's sleep and when he told you to get home safe, he pretended, only with a little shame, that this was something you did all the time. That when you were on your way to your place he’d be there waiting for you, asleep on the couch because he tried to stay up for you. When you wished him sweet dreams he’d imagine you next to him, tucked close against his side.

He pretended he was yours. All the damn time.

And this– today– when the planets finally align and a version of his illusions happens to come true, he’s nervous. Can’t help it, no matter how well it’s going. And it is going well, with Jamie in your apartment where you’d set up a nice dinner for both of you, the date you’ve been talking about for almost a month. He would’ve suggested his own place, but it’s filled with football memorabilia and awards he doesn’t want to explain yet.

He likes how you treat him. You talk to him like he’s a normal bloke you met at a bar and not a celebrity you’re too afraid to even joke around with.

“Oh, dinner looks ace, love.”

“Yeah? If I accidentally poison you at least it’ll taste good.”

“I’ll die chuffed, at least.”

A snort. “You’re so fucking British.”

“Oh, bug off, please! Thanks! Cheerio!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Didn’t know you were so religious.”

“What can I say, Jay, you make me feel closer to God.”

“Ha! Haven’t even kissed you, yet.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“Night’s very young, angelface.”

It’s so easy, being with you. Being himself with you.

So what if you barely even know each other? He already knows all about your childhood dog and you’ve been made aware of what’s it like to grow up in Manchester. But shit, just because Jamie wants to bare his soul to you maybe it doesn’t mean he should. He could at least wait until you’ve seen each other in person more than twice, and yet.

And yet.

He’s at your place, looking at your record collection, running his fingers over the spines of the books on your shelves. He just ate the pizza you cooked– vegan, because he did mention sometime in the past weeks that he’s on a strict diet regime and the fact that you remembered makes him wanna cry a little.

He likes you so much. Doesn’t he owe it to you to be honest?

“I gotta tell you something,” he pipes up, obviously catching you off-guard.

“Alright,” you say slowly, leaving your wine glass on the coffee table and scooting to give him space on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs. “Sure. Shoot.”

Jamie sits, messing with his hair and avoiding your eye. He looks behind you at the picture frame hanging on the wall, a photo of you with your friends on a trip you took to the States last summer. The stories you told about them made him laugh so hard that he’d snorted and spilled his drink everywhere.

“I didn’t know how…” he sighs, figuring there’s no use beating around the bush. “Haven’t been completely honest with you, love. About… what I do. Who I am.”

“Jamie–” you begin, consoling and standing up straighter, reaching to place your hand on his arm. He shakes his head.

“I just– I didn’t know how to tell you,” he rushes out, meeting your eye with a pleading expression. How scared he must look right now he doesn’t know, but your features soften even further into something sympathetic, kind. He doesn’t deserve you. “And– and I know we– we’ve barely gone out, yeah, but I– I like you. Fuck, man, I like you so much, but you deserve to know–”

“Jamie,” you say again, firmer. You duck your head to try and meet his eye, searching for his stare. You’re still smiling. You haven’t stopped smiling at him since you met him. “I know. If this is about you being… famous, I know, okay? About everything.”

The anxiety that’s been clawing at his throat freezes and fades, just a little. “You… do?”

Your smile turns sheepish, a little guilty. “I… kind of recognized you the night we met. It took me a minute, but I knew I’d seen you somewhere. Your voice helped, too. I think I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He still wants to cry a little, but it’s less hysterical now. He manages to feel safe in your apartment, a space that screams you everywhere he turns to look. Your photos and posters on the walls, your chipped mugs in the kitchen, your colorful rug under your coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, held up with books underneath it.

“I sound like a creep,” you admit, embarrassed yourself. “I’m a fan of the sport, is all. But I figured you wouldn’t like to talk about your life with a stranger, so I didn’t push. I’m sorry.”

Jamie shakes his head, finally reaching for the hand you have on his arm. You haven’t been a stranger since that first night. “Don’t be. I should’ve told you from the start. You deserve better than that.”

“Than… you?” Jamie doesn’t reply. His jaw tightens and your voice turns reproachful. “Jamie–”

“The public hates me,” he cuts you off. He hates to say it but you need to hear it. Even if you think you know what his life’s like right now, you don’t know the depth of the mess he’s in. “You… being seen with me will probably ruin your life. Wasn’t fair of me to ask you out and not tell you what comes with it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jamie,” you say, instantly fierce and defensive of him. You’re defending him for some reason, and you don’t know half of the things he’s done. “Not the truth, not a damn thing. You don��t need to put your whole life on display just to get me to… to trust you, or something.”

Tears blur his eyesight, but he refuses to cry in front of you. Not on the first date at least. Or is it the second one? Does your late night at the dive bar even count as a date?

“Love,” he says gently, threading lightly. “I’m serious. Wasn’t bluffing when I said I like you. A lot. And I know it’s only been, like, one date–”

“Two,” you pipe in. Jamie can’t help his amusement. That answers his question, he guesses.

“Two dates, then,” he continues, rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Your eyes go back and forth from his face to the touch, mesmerized. “But this could be somethin’, you know? Somethin’ good and I don’t want you comin’ into it blind or whatever. I’m not– I ain’t exactly a good person.”

You don’t even blink. “I don’t believe that.”

You’re stubborn. It’d be endearing if Jamie wasn’t so convinced of his shortcomings. “Love, I’m a twat. I’m mean to everyone I know, even people I like. I don’t tip enough at restaurants. Never been a very good boyfriend either. ‘m not sayin’ it to be mean. ‘s just who I am.”

You cup his face with your free hand and Jamie melts into it. It’s the first caring touch he’s been offered in fuck knows how long. “What if I like who you are? Public suicide and all, what if I want to be with you? What if you make me happy, Jamie?”

Jamie can’t see how he would but he doesn’t you to leave, either. Like, ever. “You make me happy, too. It’s like I know you already you know?. From a past life or somethin’, does that make sense?”

Your shocked silence makes him hesitate, his hands twitching in discomfort. “Is that… cool?”

“Cool,” you say, eyes full of wonder and voice a little emotional, pulling him closer before he can do something stupid like let you go. “Jamie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you.”

A pleasant surprise washes over him, warm. He says, a little choked. “Cool. That’s– that’s cool.”

You grin, trying not to laugh, and cup the back of his neck to bring his mouth to yours. “Cool.”

There’s little talking after that, and who would’ve known your couch is the perfect make out spot? Jamie’s mouth is pilant and responsive against yours, his hands wandering for any skin he can reach and making tiny sounds at the back of his throat that you swallow greedily, unable to get enough of him.

He leaves your place that night disheveled and happy, kissing you goodbye at least five times (two of them in the hallway before he finally scurries off) and not without making you promise to watch Richmond’s game this weekend.

It takes you a little too long to clean up after, even if Jamie did wash the dishes you used during dinner (“what kinda guest would I be if I didn’t help? Ma would have a heart attack!”) because you keep bringing your fingers to your lips, tilted upwards in a dreamy smile.

You make it work. Both you and Jamie continue with your lives trying to be subtle about this new development and a new routine is created; he comes to your place after most games and training unless he’s too tired. Then you meet him at his house, avoiding taking the same roads in case the paparazzi get a bit too creative.

It’s a little weird. Definitely new, but you find yourself trying to spend as much time as you can with Jamie. Dates at smaller spots and at weird hours; he even takes you running at 4 am once, to which you responded with never again and I’ll forgive you for doing this to me if we share a shower. Needless to say, the early morning wasn’t a total loss.

But your homes turn out to be the safest places to turn to. He becomes ingrained in your apartment as do the flowers he buys for you and puts in a vase on your kitchen table: red chrysanthemums and white clovers, daffodils and heliotropes, blue salvia.

You once use his phone to order takeout and he has a website on flowers and their meanings open. When he sees you carefully put some of the flowers in a book for safe-keeping, Jamie's face fills you with a need to keep him safe, too, coped up in your home and away from the world that keeps asking too much of him.

His teammates are warming up to him, albeit slowly. Jamie has reassured you he’s alright, that he knows mending the bridges he’d burned on his way out of Richmond will take longer than he’d like, but he’s hopeful about the way things are turning out.

You feel bad sometimes for keeping him distracted at such pivotal moments in his life of self-reinvention, but he outright refused when you offered to distance yourself a little so he could spend more time with the friends he very clearly cared much about. He was almost offended about it.

We could wait if you want. Maybe it’s too soon to do this yet. I know it’s a delicate situation Jamie, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything.

I don’t wanna wait, Jamie had answered, stubborn. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, pressing you against the kitchen counter. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face. I want you.

And he has you. Completely and undeniably; this thing between you, this relationship, however delicate, becomes steadier as time passes. You’re already talking about meeting his mom and taking him back to your hometown for a visit, possibilities Jamie could never have dreamed of when he first met you.

You’d told him during those first dates how unpredictable relationships could be. And neither of you can deny how your personal situation makes things even harder, but that doesn’t mean you’re not willing to try.

I can’t make any promises of what’ll happen next. No one knows shit these days, Jamie. But I can be with you. And I can make you a drink, if you want.

He tells you about his dad, too, eventually. In his effort to be more honest with you, even if you tell him multiple times he’s got nothing to make up for. He tells you anyway, wrapped in your arms on your couch while a movie plays in the background, the only source of light in the room.

Me dad weren’t… you know. Good, or whatever. He’s always thought ‘m too soft and shit. And when I try not to be I… I’m someone I’m not, y’know? Someone I don’t like.

It puts a lot of things into perspective. About when you first met and how he later tried to push you away, convinced he was a terrible person and you wouldn’t want to be with him if you truly knew him.

What you do want is to track down his dad and, like, throw a brick at his window or something. But you only embrace Jamie tighter, kiss his hair, and don’t mention how tightly he holds your arms to keep them around his torso. If he cries a little, then that’s between you and God, and you’ll die before you ever make fun of him for it.

You wake up one morning to find Jamie staring at you, eyes lidded and sleepy.

“Dreamin’ of me, angel?”

Your first action of the day is to snort thanks to your fantastic boyfriend. “You wish, handsome.”

“I do wish,” he grins wolfishly. You see his hand sliding through the sheets, moving smoothly and calculated towards your naked body.

“If you think I’m up for anything before you get some food in me, you’re gonna be awfully disappointed,” glee shines on Jamie’s face and you push it away with your hand, groaning at his dirty-mindedness. “Food, you shameless bastard, I said food. How do you get anything done with your mind stuck in the gutter all the time?”

“Takes some effort,” he says, pride unhurt and still reaching for you. You relent quickly enough, loving the feeling of his hands on you. “Come on, babe, I’ve gotta be up for trainin’ in an hour. We’ve more than enough time, huh?”

“That depends,” you support your head in your hand, elbow digging into your pillow. “What’s in it for me?”

“C’mere and I’ll show ya,” he promises, an endearing frown on his features. “What’re you doin’ all the way over there, anyway?”

He pulls you towards him with ease and you let yourself be caged in his arms, kiss after kiss after kiss.

________

AHHHH HERE IT IS, HERE IT IS

i hope you like it! i kept ya’ll waiting a little but the response was insane!!! i wanted to give you the best i could write AND i wanted to use this fic to thank you for 1.1k! thank you for making me feel so welcome when venturing back into writing and for trusting me with your favorite characters <3 and prepare yourselves bc im making myself put as many fics out this month as i can!

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gejo333 · 4 months

Text

An Unexpected Match X

Pt. 1 Pt. 11

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: Disagreements about children…and…you have to read to find out.

Wc: 5.5k

————————————————————————

The gentle morning cold of the February wind combined with your warm cup of coffee was a perfect balance, as you stare out at the Nueva York skyline from the patio of the apartment.

Since leaving the night of the holiday party, you and Miguel decided to stay for a month in the apartment, in hopes some of the heat of drama has settled down, and also hopes that Sofia would give up.

The month of January with just you, Miguel and Gabi has been a dream. Going out to dinner when neither you or Miguel felt like cooking. It was a perfect routine after the holiday break was over. Majority of the time you and Miguel would drive Gabi to and from school, which was closer back to the neighborhood, but it was a nice drive. Luckily soccer season had not started yet, as you weren't sure if you or Miguel were ready for the judging stares of the neighborhood parents.

Sometimes when you had to go to classes early or the same with Miguel and work one of you would drive her.

Today was a Saturday and the day you were going back to the house. Of course you loved that house, holding already so many memories since you moved in 7 months ago, but if only you could just wipe away the rest of the neighborhood, and stay in the perfect bubble of the O'Hara family.

Another thing that has been happening this past month was Miguel trying to bring up the topic of children. And of course every time he has, you have been lucky enough to avoid it.

Yes, you do want children with Miguel. To give Gabi a little brother or sister. Maybe both. But In a few years, after your done with grad school and start your career. Of course your argument can be easily proven wrong at the strong baby fever you've been having lately. It definitely didn't help when one of Miguel's coworkers, Peter who came to drop something off and had brought his baby daughter Mayday with him. While the two were talking you watched over Mayday. Of course Miguel saw how much you loved spending time with her, and as soon as Peter and Mayday left he brought the topic up. And lucky for you, Gabriel had called him on his phone.

You sigh as you watch your breath, cold enough to see it. Two arms wrapped around your waist as you felt a familiar head rest on your shoulder before bringing you against him as he gently kissed up your neck, before turning your head and placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, mi amor. I didn't see you in bed this morning. You usually only come out here this early if something is on your mind."

You set your cup of coffee down on the table before turning around to face him. Still in his arms you rest your head on his chest, as he rest his head on top of yours. Something you both know calm each other down.

"A few things actually. About going back and having to face everyone. Hoping to god we never see Sofia again. Figuring out how to pay for my last semester at school. And well... the other thing, I feel like we might get into an argument over." You lift your head to look up at him. His brows furrow and a small frown forms, curious about your last sentence.

"You think so? You can tell me, cariño. I'd never get mad at you." Miguel caressed your cheek as he gave you a smile of reassurance. He was right, even the little disagreements you have gotten into in the past, neither of you have ever gotten mad at each other. Maybe a little annoyed, but a quick make out session or fuck usually made the annoyances go away.

"It's about kids. I know you've been trying to talk to me about it for a while now."

"I've noticed you've been trying to avoid that conversation. Is there a reason why?" Miguel chuckled as he put some of your hair behind your ear to see more of your beautiful face.

" When I tell you my answer I don't know if I can handle seeing the disappointment in your eyes." Tears brim the corners of your eyes, which Miguel sees right away as he gently wipes them away.

"Mi amor, please tell me. Please don't cry. It breaks my heart see you upset." Miguel puts both hands on the side of your face, caressing your cheeks and wiping any stray away tears.

"I want to have kids. But not for a while."

"For how long?" You can see the nerves build up inside him, even though you could see he was trying to hide it from you.

"When I'm 29, maybe 30." You bite your lower lip, nervous for his answer.

"So, almost a decade from now?"

"Yeah..." Your heart ached as you could see the pain in his eyes.

"Can I ask why so long from now?"

"Starting my career. If I got pregnant now it would be a lot harder for employers to hire me. It's wrong. But it happens. And I want to go to grad school and I just don't know if I could do that and have a baby. I just don't know if I can balance starting a career and have a baby at the same time. That's why I thought after a couple of years I can handle both."

"I've seen your resume, hermosa it is very impressive. so is your transcript. You have a really good chance at getting hired at Alchamex. And women are treated very well there. They receive great maternity leave. If you worked in my department your boss, Jess, my coworker currently is pregnant."

"Is she 21?" You give him a deadpanned look.

"Well, no. She's 33. But even if she was your age. There would be no difference."

"Miguel, I would be an intern. And the interns are highly competitive with each other there. Oh and by the way, how would they react if they found out that the head of Alchemex's Genetics department is the boyfriend and baby daddy to my child. They would think I slept my way into getting the position."

"Well first off, you would be my wife by the time it happened. And second off, you know you would get the job because of your qualifications not because of me."

"Is this turning into a proposal?" Your eyes widen, chuckling lightly.

"Well, not now. But I love you y/n. I do attend to marry you one day."

"And I love you too Miguel. But don't change the subject. Are you ok with my answer about kids?"

"A decade is a long time. By the time we had one I'll almost be 50 and Gabi would be 15."

"Well, when did you think we were going to have more kids?" You cross you arms as you look up at him.

"I thought maybe by next year we would have a baby." Miguel brushed his fingers through his hair, out of his face.

"So you mean me getting pregnant right after graduation? Miguel that's really soon. It's too soon."

"Well 9 years is too far away. Can we compromise at least a bit?"

"Can we wait to have this discussion after I graduate? Please." You look up at him as you wrap you arms around his neck, pushing your body against him. Miguel wraps his arms around you.

"I know what your doing, hermosa. Trying to distract me from the topic." Miguel looks at you slightly annoyed but with a hint of lust in his eyes.

"I am. But can we please talk about it later. I know this is going to go in an evil cycle at the moment. And it's Saturday. I don't want to get in to an argument today."

"Alright, cariño. We'll talk about it later. But please think about it though."

"I will. Please think about what I said too."

"I will." Miguel leaned down and kissed your lips which you happily returned. You both walked back inside the apartment getting ready to head back.

Everything was packed into the car as you carried a sleepy Gabi in your arms.

"Thank you for packing the car, Rick." Miguel handed the doorman a $100 before getting into the car, while you strap Gabi into her car seat before getting into the passenger seat.

The drive back was in silence, obviously this morning conversation weighing heavily on both of your minds.

By the time you drove down your block you saw an unfamiliar car in front of your house. When Miguel pulled into a drive way, " Maldita sea!" he swore under his breath. You look to him before looking ahead and sigh in frustration. "You have got to be kidding me." (Damn it)

Waiting in your drive way was no other than Sofia.

"Stay in the car." Miguel looked over to you with worry in his eyes, before he turned to look at Sofia with a glare. He gets out of the car and walk towards Sofia. He had closed the car door so you couldn't fully here their conversation, but you could tell that Miguel was getting more frustrated the more Sofia stood there with a care free attitude.

"Mama?" Your eyes widen and turn around as you see Gabi was awake.

"Hi baby bug. How did you sleep?"

"Good. Are we home?"

"Yes, we are sweetie."

"What's Papa doing? Why is that lady there again?" Gabi pouted as she saw her father having a yelling spat with that same strange woman. You saw her begin to tear up. "Oh baby." You quickly get out of the car and make your way to the back as you unbuckle her from her car seat. She balled as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You run her back and whisper in her ear saying, "everything is ok. It's ok baby bug."

Hearing his daughter crying Miguel turned around to see you consoling her with worry and fear in his eyes wanting to know what happened.

"She woke up to you outside the car, and got scared with what's happening. You need to leave Sofia. Your making Gabi upset." You shoot daggers her way, to which she rolled her eyes.

"She's a kid. They cry all the time. I doubt it's because of me. Her mother." Sofia said as she tried to walk up to you to get to Gabi, but you stepped away as you turned Gabi away from her. Miguel stepped in the middle protecting you and Gabi from her stepping any closer.

"Leave Sofia. You have no right to be here. And stop saying your her mother. You're not."

"I'm her biological mother. I have every right to have her in my life. And I'll take you to court to prove my point." Argued Sofia.

"Sure take me to court. I have enough money to fight you. But I have enough evidence to say you didn't want her. Even now you barely care about her. You're upsetting my daughter. Now leave."

"Ugh, whatever. But I'm not done here." Sofia rolled her eyes as she walked back to her car and got in before driving away.

Both you and Miguel's attention went back to Gabi as she still was crying in your arms.

"Come here princesa, I'm sorry you had to wake up to that. Everything's ok now." You briefly gave Gabi to Miguel so that he could console her.

"Papa has to pull the car into the drive way. I'm going to give you back to Mama, ok?" Gabi nodded, still pouting as Miguel gave her a kiss to the top of her head before handing her back to you. You kiss the top of her head as you wiped away the rest of her tears.

"Hey, while Papa parks the car in the garage, what are some things you want to do for your 6th birthday party next week." You say, as you unlock the door to the house and walk inside. A smile graces your lips as Gabi perked up slightly when you mentioned her birthday. While Gabi went on an adorable tangent of different things she wanted to do for her birthday party, you looked at your surroundings, happy to be back.

You head to the living room where you sit on the couch with Gabi still in your arms as she begins to calm down and return to her cheery self.

"Can we do a princess super hero theme?" Gabi raised her head from the crook of your neck as she looked up at you, face tear stained.

"Of course we can do that. I'll start coming up with some ideas and I'll show them to you."

"Yay!" Gabi yawned as she rested her head against your chest.

"Do you want to take a nap?" You asked her which she nodded slightly against you. You smiled as you stood up from the sofa and walked upstairs to her bedroom to tuck her into bed.

When you went back downstairs you heard Miguel in the kitchen. Entering the kitchen you hug him from behind as he drank his coffee. As you rest your head against his back you felt his muscles shift as he move his arm.

"¿Dónde está Gabi?" (Where is Gabi?)

"She got tired after crying so I laid her down in her bed to take a nap." You could tell he was still annoyed, not just at the argument with Sofia but also with you.

"Miguel. I was thinking of what you said earlier..." You felt him tense slightly as he turned around to face you. You saw hope glisten in his eyes. You glance away from him as you move to face against the island counter, contemplating your next words.

"Cariño?" Miguel moved behind you as his hands rested on your hips, encouraging you to turn around to face him, which you did as you looked up into his reddish brown eyes.

"What about 5 years? When I'm 26."

"Is there anyway I could get you down to 3 years?" Miguel added softly with a slight hesitation in his voice. Your gaze shifted from his to the fridge.

Three years? That's wasn't that far from now. But maybe you should consider it. It's not like he's not able to support you. But the thought of being financially dependent on him bothers you, brings chills up your spine. It would make you feel like you were using him, even though that wasn't the truth. You sighed. Maybe you will be doing well with a career in 3 years?

You look back up to him, a smile coming to your lips. "Sure, three years." Your answer brought a wide smile to his face as he leaned down and placed a kiss to your lips. The kiss began to get more heated as Miguel lifted you on to the counter, settling himself between your thighs as he continued to abuse your lips.

"Can we go to our room?" You huff out a breath of air, lips swollen slightly. Miguel nodded as he lifted you from the counter, large hands cupping your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips smashed against his as you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

The tension and stress between the you both of you didn't get you upstairs as you pass through the living room Miguel decides to lay you on the sofa, with him over you. He pressed his lips to yours, "thank you for compromising, hermosa. You'll be an amazing mother." Miguel said as he kiss down your neck to his shirt that you borrowed this morning as he unbuttons it, throwing it to the ground when it's off of you. He loved it when you put on his clothes.

"I know you'll be an amazing father. You're already such a great one now." If eyes could physically turn into hearts that's what Miguel would look like after your words, as his heart is filled with so much love for you.

His lips moved down to your now bra less chest as he latches on to one of your nipples. A moan escapes you as you comb your fingers through his black curls.

You help pull off your leggings, knowing that if you didn't get them off sooner you knew Miguel would rip them off as he has in the past. Miguel helped you pull them off before ripping your panties off. In the past you would get annoyed by it, but now you always by them in bulk. Cause no matter how many times you tell him to just take them off, his sexual urge to be inside you always makes him forget, or not care. But seconds after they are off your forget as you feel your self get stretched by his large girth.

Your hands move on to his shoulders as they lightly claw his back. "Fuck baby, you're tight. Relax for me, cariño."

You felt your pleasure course through your limbs, now relaxed as you slightly move your hips to gain friction, signally for Miguel to move. He removed himself until the tip before thrusting completely into you with the snap of his hips, making you gasp out a moan.

As Miguel continued his assaults to your pussy he lifted your hips, gaining a new position inside you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your moans. You felt every one of his ridges move against your gummy walls, while his tip hit your g-spot continuously. Miguel removed your hand from your mouth as he held both of your wrists above your head with one of his.

"No mi amor. I want to hear your beautiful voice." Miguel groaned as his forehead pressed against yours.

"B-but Gabi." You managed to let out.

"It's fine, she's all the way upstairs." Miguel kissed your lips as they moved down to your neck as he began to suck against the sweet spot, letting out another gasp.

Miguel's pace quickened as he continued to ram into you. He was fucking you so hard you thought you felt your insides become messed up. Miguel looked down towards your torso. He felt his cock grew harder as he saw himself physically stretch out your insides.

"Fuck, I can never get enough of this amazing pussy. I can't wait to see this belly swollen with my children. I can't wait till you bare my children, mi amor. Te quiero tanto, hermosa." Miguel said in your ear, making your heart swell with love.

"I love you too, Miggy. So much." You felt your core twist in a knot before releasing, as you moan out loud from your climax. Not long after Miguel thrusted deep inside, balls slapping against you as he spills deep inside you, making your inner walls white and filling you until it starts to spill out of you.

He pulls out as he took a deep breath, placing a loving kiss to your lips before parting as his forehead rested on yours.

After resting on the sofa after your love making Miguel lifts you from the sofa and carries you to the master bathroom, where he turned on the Roman-size bath.

When it was ready he carries you into the water, where he found a place to sit and rested against the wall of the bath resting his arms on the sides as you rested your back against him. You both stayed there in perfect silence, showing small affections of love with kisses and small loving touches until fatigue took over your body as your eyes closed falling asleep.

—————————

Two days before Gabi’s birthday

“Yay! We’re here!” Gabi cheered as she helped the popular cartoon gift bag in her hands as she ran up to the front door of the house.

You and Miguel smiled down at her excited attitude. Today was one of her close friends birthday party, sadly it was at Ms. Johnson’s house. The woman always got on your nerves, as she tried to flirt with Miguel every second she could. And in front of you too. Of course, no one knew you two were dating. This was your first appearance as a couple, so you were curious if she soul try to do the same thing.

After Gabi rang the doorbell the door opened revealing your favorite person.

“Ah the O’Hara’s and Y/n. How nice to see you again.” Ms. Johnson said with a the most fakest smiles, it took all of your will power not to roll your eyes. She welcomed the three of you inside as Gabi wandered off the the backyard where the rest of the kids were.

With a hand on your lower back you and Miguel followed Ms. Johnson to the living room where other parents talked while sipping on cocktails and eating snacks. When you both entered many parents stared, one whispering to the other, “I can’t believe he’s with Sam and Sarah’s daughter. I’m shocked they even showed up here.”

“I know. Especially after what went down at the holiday party. He’s so attractive. He could literally have anyone and he chooses this girl?”

You tried your best to pretend you didn’t hear the conversation as you kept your smile on your face. The audacity of some of these people. They should just mind their own damn business.

“Would you care for any drinks? Y/n are you old enough to drink?” Smiled Ms. Johnson as she looked at you.

“Yes I am. Maybe you had two many glasses of wine since you can’t seem to remember my age. You should slow down.” You smile as you hear Miguel trying to stifle a chuckle along with a few other people in the room.

“I’ll get you two a glass of wine.” Ms. Johnson smiled before leaving the room.

Miguel leaned down to whisper into your ear, “We’ll have a glass of wine and then we’ll say we have to go to another event for my job.” You turn to look up at him with a smile. “Sounds like a good escape plan.” Miguel returns your smile as he leaves a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, so like what is it that makes you interested in a guy like Miguel. He is like over a decade older than you.” Said one of Gabi’s classmates dads as he walks over to you.

“Ryan, you can’t just say stuff like that. It’s rude.” Scolded his wife next to him. “I’m sorry about him. He’s had a few too many beers.” She chuckled.

“No, but I’m serious. Cause like y/n your freaking hot. Why be with a man so much older? Yeah ok, Miguel you keep yourself in shape man. But like, I just don’t get it. Like I’m 6 years younger than you Miguel, yet I don’t have a young hot babe beside me. Ah, maybe it’s the money.”

Your eyes widen from his words.

“You listen here. You’re lucky there are kids around us or my fist would be in your face. If I ever here you disrespect my girlfriend again, you’ll deeply regret it.” Miguel got into the man’s face sending him a deathly glare as his voice turns into a serious tone. Giving the guy a slight scare he raised his arms up in surrender as he moved away from Miguel.

“Maybe it’s best if you and Ryan leave.” Said Ms. Johnson as she came back into the room with two glasses of wine for you and Miguel. How you so desperately wanted to drink this glass in one swoop.

The couple left to your relief, but you still weren’t comfortable as he wasn’t the only one thinking that same thing about you and Miguel.

After talking with these unbearable people for a hellish hour, Miguel finally decided that it’s time to go.

“We’re going to head out. We have another event to go to.”

“Aww alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Ms. Johnson smiled flirtatiously towards Miguel wondering if he was picking Gabi up up after the sleepover.

“I am actually. So I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” You smile as you take Miguel’s empty wine glass and hand her both of your glasses. He smile faltered before being replaced with a fake one.

“Perfect. Well…I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Until then.” You return her fake smile before you and Miguel left the living room to give Gabi a quick goodbye before you both left the house.

Walking a block from the house you say, “oh god, was that unbearable. I swear these people are just like on drugs or something, this neighborhood is just so nosy and rude!” You laugh, hysterical from the event.

“Yeah, that was pretty bad in there.” Miguel chuckled before he silently snuck up on you and lifted you up by the waist, wrapping his arms around you before placing a big kiss to your cheek. You let out a laugh as he continued kissing your face and neck. “Miggy, wait till we get home.”

“I can’t help myself mi amor. Now that our relationship is public I want the whole world to know how much I love you.” Miguel kissed your lips one more time, before setting you down. You intertwine your fingers with his as you hold his hand walking the rest of the way back home.

———————-

The day of Gabi’s birthday

“Good morning baby bug! Happy Birthday!” You smile as you sit on the bed beside her.

“Here is a first gift out of many princesa.” Miguel handed her a new stuffed kitty cat animal. After sitting up Gabi hugged the stuffed animal. “Thank you Papa! I love it! I’m going to name her snowball!”

“Such a cute name for a cute kitty.” You smile as you brush strands of hair out of her face. Miguel lifted Gabi out of bed as he hung her upside down on his shoulders.

“Oh no Gabi, the house turned upside down!” Said Miguel as he walked her out of her room and downstairs towards the kitchen.

“Papa, I’m the one that’s upside down.” Gabi giggled from her fathers words. You chuckled along with them as you followed them down to the kitchen where a stack of pancakes topped with berries and whipped cream smiley face and finally a candle.

When all three of you entered the kitchen Miguel flipped her right up and sat her on the kitchen counter chair.

“One last thing.” You say as you get the lighter to light the candle. Once lit both you and Miguel sing Happy Birthday in Spanish before she blew out the candle.

“I wished for everything to stay at it is.” Gabi smiled as she swooped a strawberry in the whip cream and ate it.

“I couldn’t agree more princesa.” Miguel smile as he kissed the top of her head.

After eating together as a family, Miguel went to go get ready for work as he needed to attend an early meeting.

“Ok my two favorite girls. I’ll see you both after work and we’ll celebrate your 6th birthday at your favorite restaurant, princesa.” Miguel walked back into the kitchen in his suite.

“Yay!” Gabi raised her hands in excitement. You chuckled as you saw her face was covered in whipped cream and syrup. You grab a wet cloth and wipe her face before kissing the top of her head.

“Goodbye princesa.” Miguel kissed the top of her head as Gabi wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a small hug.

“Bye bye papa. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

He then walked over to you as he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you against him as he gives you a loving goodbye kiss.

“Goodbye cariño. Have a nice day with classes. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye. Have a good day at work. I’ll pick up Gabi from school.”

Miguel looked at you and Gabi one more time with a wide happy smile before leaving.

The entire work day was chaotic as he had no time to take a break until now.

Miguel smiled wide as he entered the luxury store. He gazed around before his eyes darted towards his main mission here.

“Welcome Sir. How may I help you?” Said the stores salesman as he greeted Miguel with a welcoming smile.

“I’m here to buy an engagement ring.”

“Wonderful! We have a great selection. What’s your price range?”

“Can I see your most valued rings?”

The store clerk eyes widen and smile grew bigger, “Of course. Follow me this way. We keep our nice items in a private room.” The salesman gestured for Miguel to follow him.

After some time and looking through a vast amount of rings, Miguel eyes landed on the one. The one you knew would be perfect. Because you were perfect. And you deserved the best.

“This is the one.”

“That’s an excellent choice Mr. O’Hara. That’s one lucky woman.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Miguel smiled as he held the ring in his hands, so small compared to

his large hands. Just like your hands when they’re intertwined in his.

“Thank you for your purchase. Please feel free to reach out if you have an questions or concerns about your purchase. Have a nice day.”

“You too. Thank you.” Miguel left the store, stopping a few feet away to open the box and look at the ring again.

His phone went off. Miguel rolled his eyes thinking it was work as he close the ring box and put it in his coat pocket before he took his phone out of his pocket. The number calling was unfamiliar, but he press the green button, deciding to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Mr. O’Hara speaking?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Nueva York Medical. You were listed as Ms. Y/n L/n emergency contact?”

“Y-yes.” Miguel’s heart stopped before rapidly beating against his chest as his stomach dropped.

“She was in a car accident.”

————————————————————————

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vidavalor · 6 months

Text

The Devil in Disguise: Some theory-ish ideas on the night of the ball, The Metatron, and Crowley

The Metatron & Saraqael messed with Crowley's mind while he was in Heaven. He comes back unaware that he's missing at least 10 hours that the show spends a lot of time establishing and, more concerningly... he is suddenly incapable of seeing Heaven as an existential threat to Aziraphale.

TW for talk of assault, PTSD.

Good Omens begins talking about time in reference to the night of the ball earlier in the season with Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets in The Dirty Donkey scene. The writers set it up for us, all here's Mr. Brown-- he's going to set up this Whickber Street meeting for 6:30pm on Thursday evening after the shops close. You'll think the reason this is so specific is just a Mr. Brown's personality thing but then, as we get closer to it, at the top of 2.05, we're going to have about 30,000 scenes that do nothing but tell you, over and over and over again, what time this meeting ball starts. The entire purpose of this is for you to realize how much time passes through the night until the final act of 2.06... which we will then establish is happening in the 7am hour of Friday morning, some twelve hours after the meeting/ball began.

We go see Mr. Arnold and he helps us establish that today is Thursday and the meeting is tonight. Then, we visit Mrs. Cheng and she asks what time the meeting starts again, so Aziraphale will say "6:30" and confirm for us that he hasn't changed Mr. Brown's scheduled time. Then, Mutt originally can't go because he's taking his spouse to *dinner* for their anniversary-- this meeting is so early! reminds the scene. Then, Justine can come but she can only stay for a little while because the restaurant "picks up after 7pm." Then, Mrs. Sandwich arrives at the meeting and says basically the same thing as Justine did in the earlier scene-- that she can't stay long because her business is about to pick up. Then, Maggie is closing up her shop when Crowley is dispatched to get her. We now have every single major shopkeeper/trader in a separate scene, each of which reiterates how early this starts-- at 6:30pm on Thursday evening. When Nina gets to the ball, she adds an additional element: she's not fully under Aziraphale's spell so she comments on how everyone is speaking like they "just stepped out of 'Pride & Prejudice'," which is to say that everyone is speaking outside of time.

Nina is telling us that there's something wrong with relation to time but we know what that wrong thing is-- Aziraphale's Jane Austen ball spell. If you add it into the repeated references to time itself, though, you see it's another thing conveying a general feeling of something being way, way, way off about time on the night of the ball that the writers would like us to notice.

Why are we so obsessed with time on this night? What is the purpose of all of this?

To help you see that we are missing almost the entire night and that Crowley was in Heaven the entire time... and that there are some things that are really, really wrong with him when he comes back.

When we get into 2.06 and to the next morning, time is referenced again to help us see this. Crowley returns and it's surprisingly daylight, when it had been only a few hours past 6:30pm at best when he left for Heaven, right? In the morning, he takes Maggie & Nina outside to save them from Saraqael and both women comment on the time. We're talking about time again, as it's that important. Maggie says she's exhausted from being awake all night. Nina, crucially, says that her shop should have opened "a half an hour ago." Nina sells coffee so her shop likely opens at 6:30 or 7am, so it's 7 or 7:30am on Friday morning when the final act of 2.06 is happening.

That means that it's *at least* ten hours after Crowley went to Heaven but while he knows what time it is the next morning, he does not appear to know he's missing time. While Aziraphale is with The Metatron, Crowley will even look at his watch-- another reference to time passing-- and still not have this realization. The morning sun streams through the windows of the unclosed blinds, in a reverse parallel to 2.01, when Aziraphale closed the blinds after bringing Crowley into the bookshop, making it more comfortable for Crowley, who here seems to be aware that it's morning but unaffected by the bright sun; the show using the set and costumes to help illustrate this for us.

Because Crowley arrived with the angels and the group scene in the bookshop happened right after it, he and Aziraphale have not had a moment alone to speak yet. They actually won't get one before S2 is out because the bookshop is burned. In S1, it literally burned. In S2, it's burned, in the spy sense of the word-- everyone can get into it now so it's no longer a safe place to talk, which Crowley also seems to fail to fully recognize, which is partly because he fails to see Heaven as a danger to anyone but humanity, which we'll get to in a second. Aziraphale didn't say what he wanted to when Crowley first returned in the morning because he saw the angels, so he stops at "you came back", but he really has spent the entire prior night not knowing where Crowley was.

When The Metatron likely came on the Heavenly Zoom after Aziraphale stopped discorporating demons with it-- hinted at in Aziraphale and The Metatron's first interaction in the morning-- Aziraphale told The Metatron to go pound sand, which The Metatron figured he would. Not a lot of people want to spend more time with the leader of an organization that tried to kill them. We know Crowley isn't mentioned at this time because using Crowley as a tactic is new in the morning when Aziraphale talks with The Metatron at Marguerite's but Aziraphale told The Metatron he wouldn't go up to Heaven when they first spoke during the time we're missing. That much we already know.

So, Aziraphale then spent the night in a semi-panic because he might have started a war and he told The Metatron where he could stick it, which is kind of like trying to tell Putin you're quitting your job in the Russian Defense Ministry and could easily wind up with your ass tossed out a window but, most frightening to Aziraphale... Crowley hadn't come back.

Hours go by and no Crowley.

It's 1827 all over again. One minute, he's flirting with Crowley and the next minute, Crowley's gone from him in an instant. Crowley wouldn't do this willingly. They've talked about it. Crowley will tell him where he is now, all the time. He's working on not taking off when his PTSD is triggered. Aziraphale went to the spot he was taken in Edinburgh for the first time just the other day and called him from it to hear his voice and work on getting past it. Does Crowley still have to leave to some extent every damn day because he's not just living in the bookshop? Yes. Is even that a lot for Aziraphale at this point? Yes. Does Crowley know all of this? Yes. He makes it a point to tell Aziraphale that he'll get the humans out and then come back and that he won't leave Aziraphale on his own. Aziraphale believes him because he knows Crowley has no wish to hurt him and that is true. So, when Crowley doesn't come back all night, Aziraphale is panicked that something's happened to him.

He is correct that something has but neither of them ever get a moment to sort it out before S2 ends.

Look at the way Aziraphale reaches for Crowley when Crowley saves Maggie & Nina from Saraqael. He can't stop him because he doesn't want the shop lesbians turned into pillars of salt but he reaches for Crowley, like he just wants him to stay put for a moment, because this is exactly what happened ten hours or so ago now all over again-- Crowley left the bookshop to get the humans to safety and he didn't come back right away and Aziraphale was panic-stricken. He since hasn't even had a moment alone with him or the opportunity to ask him if he's alright.

This angel needs all these people out of his bookshop so he can find out what the fuck happened to Crowley all night. He still thinks, at this point, that if they can sort out these issues about the war and Gabriel, that this can happen and then everyone will go and he can be alone with Crowley. He can check on him and tell him what happened with The Metatron while he was gone and they can make a plan together, as opposed to the plan Aziraphale's had to make on his own. The Metatron has not yet appeared to change this, so Aziraphale is fine with Crowley sharing what he's found out about Gabriel and sorting everything out, in the hopes that then everyone will then leave them be for awhile.

When Crowley first arrived back in the bookshop and acted as if nothing was wrong, Aziraphale saw the angels behind him and he and Crowley aren't used to being open with one another in front of Heaven. They don't trust them. Gabriel, they've gotten used to but also Gabriel's proven himself kind of lovable, and he's one of them now. Michael, Uriel and Saraqael are not. So, Aziraphale didn't get into any of it with Crowley in that moment. He didn't say where were you? are you alright?, didn't hug him, etc.. The timing of all of this is by design on the part of The Metatron. If Crowley & Aziraphale don't have any time alone, they don't have any time to plan. If they don't have any time to make a plan, they're less trouble and easier to divide. That's why Crowley is sent back with the angels in tow.

Crowley's purpose in The Metatron's plan to get Aziraphale (and to destroy both of them, in the long run) is to unintentionally help The Metatron get Aziraphale to trust him. The way The Metatron does this is two-fold. The first bit is to have Crowley in Heaven and then send him back, (seemingly) fine, making Aziraphale think that if Crowley survived a trip to Heaven that they won't harm him in the future. The second bit is to send Crowley back with the information needed to solve the Gabriel mystery at the same time as Beez has been sent up to check on the results of the attack on the bookshop, which facilitates the revelation to Aziraphale of Ineffable Bureaucracy. The Metatron lets Gabe and Beez run off for exactly as long as it takes to get Aziraphale into the elevator-- all to make it look like Heaven has changed and provide Aziraphale with what he thinks is proof that he and Crowley would be allowed to be together in Heaven.

Note how Crowley says that what happened to Gabriel is that the angels want him back "so they can fire him" which, honestly, really already happened. Crowley watched the video we did but he doesn't remember it the way we do. He doesn't remember that The Metatron and Saraqael were trying to take Gabriel's memories and that Michael was complicit in it. These are all *extremely important* things that could have been shared with Aziraphale and the others but that Crowley seems to have forgotten that he saw.

Also note how The Metatron chooses not to appear in the bookshop until after Gabriel and the demons have left. By the time The Metatron appears, there's only Crowley (who is influenced by him) and angels who will do what he tells them to, and Aziraphale. Also note, though, that Gabriel gets his memories back... but doesn't seem to recall who now?

Super funny how Gabriel doesn't remember the angel that is important enough to have been at the big meetings-- and so, that he should have seen every few days for millennia lol-- and *that same angel* is the one who both has the canonical ability to take memories and is the one who recognized/is in league with The Metatron. Almost as if Gabriel got his memories back via Beez's fly and Saraqael instantly zapped his memory of them and of what happened to him so that he wouldn't be like hey, it's you guys... who totally obeyed The Metatron when he made me into a fallen angel and tried to take my memories from me. Aziraphale, don't trust these motherfuckers. They'll totally try to kill you and Crowley.

Almost as if Saraqael *is only there in the first place* to control Gabriel and Crowley's memories to facilitate what happens in the bookshop and keep it under control in the way that they and The Metatron want it to go. The Metatron, in all likelihood, is the one who cast all the demons to Hell, and Crowley is the only demon of the main group of them here who actually has memory issues so imagine what would have happened if The Metatron had rolled in when everyone was still there in the group scene. Gabriel would have been furious about what The Metatron did to him and said so... and Beez and the other demons would recognize The Metatron as the one who made them fall. Crowley would believe Beez, even if he couldn't remember it. Gabriel would go into Protector!Mode-- forget what The Metatron did to him, he's incensed over what he did to his love Beez and his new friend Crowley and, Gabriel supposes, those other demon guys over there, too lol. The demons start going from calling for Beez and Gabe's heads to joining up with them against The Metatron. Aziraphale would try to kill The Metatron if he knew all of that, forget getting into that elevator with him lol, so Ineffable Bureaucracy are allowed to escape-- for a little while, they're in a ton of danger after S2-- because that also helps The Metatron try to get Aziraphale to trust him, rather than starts a revolution. The Metatron only shows up after Dagon, Furfur and Shax leave, too, which further the suspicions that he's harmed them in the past and they wouldn't be too happy to see him.

So let's go back to what's wrong with Crowley...

Crowley, pre-trip to Heaven:

believes Beez about The Book of Life; growls at Gabriel that Aziraphale is "risking his entire existence" to help him and threatens him if anything happens to Aziraphale; not only remembers Heaven trying to kill them but brings it up to Gabriel in what is also a reminder of that to the audience; objected originally to Aziraphale taking care of Gabriel because of him trying to kill them and then has an anxiety attack over Gabriel in his house for basically most of the season; follows Aziraphale around Whickber Street after Shax starts sniffing around the bookshop; turns himself in to Muriel to work with Heaven as an informant without a second thought to protect Aziraphale, the bookshop, Maggie, Nina and Gabriel.

Crowley in Heaven:

promptly forgets the moment he gets off the elevator that his plan is that he is there to get the angels to protect the bookshop embassy, by appealing to their need to not be shown up by the demons; walks right by Michael & Uriel-- the archangels whose help he came up here to seek-- and continues to Muriel's office; becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to Gabriel; is spotted by Michael-- the smartest of the angels and the most suspicious, who is nominally in charge but for The Metatron-- and nothing comes of it, hinting that Michael might have been intercepted by The Metatron/Saraqael and roped into part of the plan (which also goes along with Michael and Uriel being sent with Crowley, Muriel and Saraqael back to the bookshop later on); is allowed into the files with permission from Saraqael, who is the only angel who recognizes The Metatron the next morning in the bookshop & is standing in for Sandalphon in some parts of the plot, according to Gaiman (Sandalphon & The Metatron are tight in Bible lore); Saraqael is the angel who was tasked with taking Gabriel's memories and they're the one Crowley is with most of his time in Heaven... the other angel being Muriel, whose own memories are suggested in a few scene to have been taken at some point; Crowley's memories issues are brought up again when he fails to recognize Saraqael; Crowley looks weirdly dazed while watching the Gabriel video; Saraqael is in league with The Metatron but both of them come off as the villains they are in the video they *want* Crowley to watch... but Crowley doesn't seem to remember that bit of what he saw afterwards; Crowley doesn't react to Saraqael trying to attack Gabriel after he finishes watching the video and, as we'll see, he doesn't seem to retain the same impression of the video that we do; Crowley tells Saraqael to come with him and Muriel back to the bookshop, despite having just watched a video in which they tried to take Gabriel's memories... meaning, that he fails to recognize Saraqael as a threat to himself, Gabriel and Aziraphale, and almost seems to tell Saraqael to come with him because Saraqael has influenced him to do so.

Crowley, post-trip to Heaven:

sits in a chair, listless, staring into space while Michael yells at Aziraphale that they will erase him from existence via The Book of Life (doesn't matter if this is real or if Michael can do it or not-- Crowley believed it was real pre-trip to Heaven and he'd protect Aziraphale from a piece of dust so why is he just sitting there); fails to tell Aziraphale that Gabriel is a fallen angel and that The Metatron ordered his identity stolen; fails to tell Aziraphale that Saraqael was trying to take Gabriel's memories on order of The Metatron before Gabriel outsmarted them while running to escape them and that Michael was complicit in all of it; recognizes that Heaven/Hell is toxic and a threat to *humanity*-- "when Heaven ends life on Earth, it'll just be as dead as if Hell ended it" and saving Maggie & Nina from Saraqael-- but fails to see that they are a threat to *Aziraphale*; goes a bit blank and stares at nothing, half-in/half-out of what is happening around him, when the conversation is about lost memories or The Book of Life; is staring into space at nothing on the floor when discussion is happening about lost memories-- Gabriel's-- until Aziraphale touches his arm... then, he looks up, still a little expressionless, and reacts to Ineffable Bureaucracy by offering them Alpha Centauri and talking about it in a way that makes it sound like an island he always meant to visit and not the option he always throws out to Aziraphale in a Defcon 1-level panic... Alpha Centauri isn't a trip to the Caymans to Crowley, it's this lol:

We can chitty chitty bang bang The Bentley to the stars, angel, I'm freaking out and out of ideas please send help!...meaning that, in the 2.06 group scene in the bookshop, he isn't telling Gabe and Beez to run, he's just offering them an idea of a place to go to if they're leaving... meaning, he fails to think they're in any danger and this is the same being who just watched a video last night in which The Metatron tried to attack Gabriel; and that's not even the worst of it... this is...

Go on. Day can't get any weirder... Crowley fails to see that Aziraphale does not want to go anywhere alone with The Metatron and is looking at him to come with them... instead, Crowley reacts like Aziraphale is asking if he'd mind if he goes and has a weird, unplanned coffee with his exhausting, bigoted dad and then he'll come back and spend the day with him; Crowley tells Aziraphale to go with The Metatron and just sits there in the damn chair while they walk out the door... this is *Crowley*, you guys. The same being that just spent a week trying to see if he could get Xanax to work for demons because of all the Heaven circling his bookshop safe space... the same being who got the heebie-jeebies over Shax and a bunch of junior demons at 6:30pm the night before... but now he's all no problem, honey, hope it goes well, I'll be here lounging in your chair, waiting for you to come back when *The Metatron* shows up and wants Aziraphale to go somewhere with him alone... This is also, of course, the moment that The Metatron gets the big villain music in the score-- right as he looks at Crowley, whom he's been monitoring like a hawk since he showed up; fails to recognize danger to Aziraphale so much that he just *stays in the bookshop* the whole time Aziraphale is with The Metatron-- doesn't follow them, even, or anything... he has no plans but for boozy breakfast (which is another indicator of him knowing that it's morning but not realizing he's missing time) and he completely believes that Aziraphale is in no danger at all and will return any moment, even as he gets anxious about how long it's taking; fails to mention the most obvious argument in the world for why Aziraphale shouldn't go to Heaven-- that they tried to murder them-- and so can never be trusted; fails again during the proposal to tell Aziraphale not to trust The Metatron because of what he just did to Gabriel on Monday and today is Friday morning and it's doubtful he just redeemed himself in a week lol... why did they have us see Crowley see the video but then *not* have him tell Aziraphale about it and ask that if that's what they were trying to do to Gabriel-- who had the political benefit of not being killed or sent directly to Hell because it would look like an institutional problem-- what does Aziraphale think that The Metatron would do to him, when he doesn't have any of the protections of Gabriel's old position?... this is *information that could save Aziraphale's life* and Crowley saw it with us but he doesn't seem to remember that he did because if he *did* remember that he did, he surely would tell Aziraphale because he loves Aziraphale and doesn't want anything to happen to him. He absolutely would have tried this argument if he remembered any of this from the video... but he also doesn't remember that Gabriel was already "fired" or that The Metatron and Saraqael and Michael are all a threat to Aziraphale... because he's been made to not remember that; finally, he never brings up something he believes in that he fears-- The Book of Life-- during the "no nightingales" conversation, even though it just came up when the angels were in the bookshop... but Crowley honestly might not even remember that it did, based on how out of it he was during that moment between Michael and Aziraphale.

Because Crowley can't recognize that he's missing time and that Heaven is an existential threat to Aziraphale and because Aziraphale feels like they can't talk alone without it being at least somewhat coded because the bookshop has been burned, they are each missing a huge part of what the other is trying to say and this results in the "no nightingales" disaster. Aziraphale knows he's in danger with The Metatron but Crowley's been programmed during the night to not recognize The Metatron, The Book of Life or Heaven in general as threats to Aziraphale. As a result, he can't understand that Aziraphale is trying to signal to him that he's made a plan and he needs Crowley to use their way of understanding each other and to follow his lead on it. Crowley, if he hadn't been harmed the night before, would have been able to see this and help Aziraphale. Aziraphale, for his part, fails to see that something's happened to Crowley and that's not terribly new for them, sadly, because so much has already happened to Crowley and Aziraphale is so sensitive to it that he doesn't think that Crowley's responses are the result of new trauma, just his already pre-existing trauma.

Even the prior night, Aziraphale downplayed Crowley's anxiety during the ball as just being his usual brand of anxiety amped up by the fact that they were trying something riskier and more public... until the brick got thrown through the window. He knows that Crowley has PTSD. One of the sweetest scenes in the series actually begins because of Aziraphale seeing Crowley slipping into a bit of PTSD fugue and pulling him out of it. Not uncoincidentally? It's from the other season finale. It's from the nightingales finale, as opposed to the no nightingales finale. It's this:

That scene actually begins with Crowley staring down at nothing in front of him, lost in thought, until Aziraphale gently brings him out of it and into the present moment. Because Crowley does this when they've been through an ordeal that's triggered things for him, Aziraphale is used to seeing it, so he doesn't recognize it in 2.06 as anything other than one of Crowley's default trauma responses. Because Crowley has only been influenced by The Metatron/Saraqael on specific things relating to threats to time and Aziraphale, he's otherwise alright and responding normally to other things, which fools Aziraphale into thinking that nothing happened to him... which is part of The Metatron's plan. He wants Aziraphale to think that Crowley is fine so that when they fail to communicate, he'll be so angry with/heartbroken over Crowley that he'll walk away from him and more easily get into the elevator.

Last time we saw a character on GO periodically sit in a chair this non-responsive, it was actually Gabriel occasionally fugue-ing out during his memory loss Jim era just an episode or so previously and Crowley's memory issues are paralleled with Gabriel's all season. Gabriel would space out when being overtaken by an outside force, which is what is kind of like what is happening with Crowley. Not possession like with Gabriel or God but his mind has been messed around with. Ironically, Crowley is the only one Aziraphale doesn't try to influence during the ball. While Aziraphale's actions during the ball are a whole other meta when it comes to just how fucked up all of that was, really... he left Crowley out of it. Part of it is that he doesn't have to love spell Crowley lol and that influencing him at all would have defeated the point of the ball in Aziraphale's mind but he also doesn't because he'd never do anything without Crowley's consent. He wouldn't anyway but he's extra-mindful of it because he knows Crowley has been through situations where his control over himself was taken from him and how that's affected him. Then, Crowley leaves the ball to help the humans and go to Heaven for help for Aziraphale and wound up kidnapped up there for 10 or so hours and suffering that same kind of non-consensual attack again.

Only other time Crowley is as periodically quiet and still, staring down at nothing and looking that forlorn, as he is in moments of 2.06? 1862. I'm not suggesting the exact same thing happened to him after 1827 when he was in Hell but I am suggesting the trauma response is the same and it's all over the bookshop scenes in 2.06 after he comes back from Heaven. He's literally standing like as tense and straight with his eyes lowered and speaking quietly as he did in 1862 in parts of 2.06, like before Aziraphale touches his arm when Gabriel and Beezlebub hold hands.

Crowley's had relevant memories taken by Saraqael and The Metatron to control him, so he spaces out when the conversation conflicts with what he's been influenced not to recognize as dangerous-- The Book of Life, the topic of lost memories/missing memories (he zones completely out of talk of Gabriel's lost memories once he gives everyone the means to figure it out)... most importantly, any moment that The Metatron and Saraqael and Michael and Heaven in general are threatening towards Aziraphale. He lets Michael threaten Aziraphale with non-existence. He lets Saraqael into the bookshop after knowing what they did to Gabriel because they've skewed what he thinks he saw on the video. He lets Aziraphale go with The Metatron without recognizing any danger to him at all.

This is intentional on the part of our villains here. They want to drive a wedge between them to get Aziraphale into the elevator. They've just influenced Crowley to not see them as a threat to Aziraphale but not much more than that so that he's otherwise normal-seeming in behavior. He remembers what happened at the ball enough that he snaps Mr. Brown back and asks what Aziraphale did to Shax. This is why The Metatron is watching Crowley like a hawk. He looks at him suspiciously when he retains enough control and empathy for humans-- sending Mr. Brown, Maggie and Nina to safety-- but he hears the women talk about time and realizes that Crowley doesn't respond, so the influence is working. He tests Crowley when he arrives to see if the influence is working in the what about you, demon? Do you know who I am? moment.

This is the reason why none of the other angels but for Saraqael recognize The Metatron, even if he doesn't look *that* different with a body. Saraqael messed with all of their minds to make it so that they don't for a few moments, specifically to give The Metatron an opportunity to test Crowley and be sure it's all still working.

(The saving Mr. Brown thing is especially heart-breaking because what do we learn about Mr. Brown's experience last night from what he says to Mutt? He can't remember where he was or what happened to him. It's a parallel to Crowley and another hint at it from the writers but is less horrifying because Mr. Brown's lack of memory might not be his choice but taking it from him was done out of empathy. PTSD-laden Crowley did that for him while under this influence. He made the call that Mr. Carpet didn't need to go through the trauma of remembering being attacked by the demons and snapped him into line for coffee-- symbolic freedom-- at Nina's, like it was another normal day for him. Meanwhile, Crowley can't remember what happened to himself last night for totally different reasons and doesn't even fully realize it yet.)

In S1, Aziraphale opens up the portal to Heaven and gets accidentally discorporated-- loses his body-- and the bookshop burns down. In S2, Aziraphale opens up the portal to Heaven, the bookshop is burnt as a safe house, and Crowley's mind is what is harmed by Heaven.

Because Crowley seems to be otherwise fine, Aziraphale doesn't think anything is more wrong than the usual amount of wrong and because The Metatron is breathing down their necks the whole time, Aziraphale never just says what happened to you last night? which would have changed everything because either it would have broken the hold they have over Crowley enough for him to remember that they have one or Aziraphale would have been standing there, horrified, as Crowley seemed confused by the idea that he was gone all night. Aziraphale doesn't ask because he knows something is wrong but everything is wrong at that moment and they can't get away from The Metatron enough to speak freely. Aziraphale is trying to convey a kind of plan (which seems to be 1941 and playing them for suckers) and begging Crowley to realize that he's terrified and trapped and needs him to help him but Crowley is incapable of fully recognizing that because he doesn't see Heaven as a threat to Aziraphale anymore, thanks to The Metatron. He just sees Heaven as a threat to their relationship and so starts to try to get Aziraphale to stay with him.

The worst part of this is that while it becomes a total fucking disaster in the bookshop, the very end of it is different. There's Crowley, staying by The Bentley, not leaving. It's not even that he wants Aziraphale to come to him instead of The Metatron so much as it's just him knowing he left the bookshop and he been working on not leaving. He wants Aziraphale to see he left the argument but not him. He doesn't know how this all works if Aziraphale goes to Heaven and he's still thinking of it in terms of 'if Aziraphale takes this job he's been offered by The Metatron' and not 'Aziraphale is about to be harmed by The Metatron' because of the influence... but he's not leaving. He promised Aziraphale he wouldn't leave him on his own, so he's sending a message that he won't. He just thinks that they're still going to have a relationship to work on because he thinks Aziraphale is about to become the Supreme Archangel of Heaven when, in reality, Aziraphale just walked into an elevator of death here. (He'll be fine in the long run. They'll bring him back. But I'm pretty sure nothing good is happening to Aziraphale in the short term.)

They eluded being forced into killing themselves in S1 by working together; they are separated and made to help one another's death in S2. Crowley influenced to watching helplessly as Aziraphale is taken from him is also, by design, an attempt at killing Crowley. They know he wouldn't want to live without Aziraphale. They're not as strong, not as much of a threat, apart as they are together.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale has no idea what just happened but it's a mess and it's one he's not sure he'll ever get to resolve because he just overheard The Metatron talking about The Second Coming and now he suspects he might not be safe but he also doesn't have a choice but to get into the elevator and he's doing it alone. He gets The Bentley to play Crowley "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" as an I love you and a response to Crowley saying "no nightingales" in the bookshop. It's a refusal to say they're done. There actually isn't an ineffable divorce. There's them each fucking it all up and then trying to apologize from across Whickber Street with The Metatron lurking around and they manage to but...

...what do you think happens when something happens to make Crowley realize what happened to him the night he spent in Heaven and what's wrong with him? He's going to feel like he killed Aziraphale. He's going to feel like he shot The Bullet Catch gun and didn't miss. Don't think The Metatron doesn't know it. Because what is Round Two? It's Crowley's "all of us versus all of them" from the end of S1. Why is Hell so understaffed in S2? Because most of the demons are getting into place for The Second Coming. It's Heaven and Hell (who still hate each other but are aligned) versus humanity. S2 has a focus on times Heaven and Hell have worked in tandem-- like with Job-- and then has them all in the bookshop at the end. It has Crowley bonding with Gabriel and Beez being kind to Aziraphale. It blends Heaven & Hell into the singular, corrupt system that it always has been and takes Crowley & Aziraphale's "our side" and starts adding to it. Beez and Gabriel are on their side now. Muriel and others will follow. But as they're doing all of this and as they're centering The Second Coming and The Metatron, you know whose presence was briefly mentioned but was otherwise suspiciously absent from S2?

Lucifer.

God made an appearance and not even just in flashback. It's God speaking through Gabriel earlier in the season, telling Crowley and Aziraphale to remember Job.

Where's Satan, though?

We've only noticed The Metatron, not that he and Satan are now, for awhile at least, on the same side, and Satan was not happy about S1. I don't think we should ignore the only references to Satan in S2--the quick lines they gave Shax and Dagon in the bookshop scene, wherein Shax said that they should give Gabriel and Beez to their master, Satan, and Dagon said that Satan wouldn't want them, except maybe "as hors d'oeurves." Ignoring for a moment how absolutely fucking horrifying a line that is on a show that codes sex as food this much, consider that Dagon just literally said that Lucifer/Satan would consider Gabe and Beez secondary-- just appetizers-- to a main course. Who is the main course?

Who else but Crowley & Aziraphale?

Do you really think that even if they held back on the Benedict Cumberbatch this round that Lucifer/Satan took the whole season off and had nothing to do with the end game of S2? The Lucifer/Satan who lost his antichrist kid in S1 and his armageddon in S1 because of Crowley and Aziraphale? The Lucifer who is very disturbingly obsessed with Crowley? The Lucifer who is now teamed up with Heaven for The Second Coming and so who might have actually been Upstairs himself when Crowley was the night of the ball-- or, at least, suggested what Saraqael and The Metatron did to Crowley? Because it's actually where we first saw this kind of thing in the plot, remember? Here are your instructions...

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens theory #aziracrow #good omens speculation #good omens analysis #good omens s2

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littlelioncub43 · 2 years

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Come On, Come On, Darling

Summary: A late night out with friends, and an uncomfortably deep talk has Eddie thinking about you. He just hopes you're thinking about him the same way.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warning: fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, best friends to lovers, drinking, Eddie being an absolute angel and a gentleman, reader does Eddie's make up (you're welcome), pet names ( I overuse "princess," sue me), the rest of the ST gang all being happy, season 4 never happened here, Wayne being oddly insightful and a good uncle, more plot than anything, but smut will happen in part 3, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Word Count: 4,039

A/N: I started this a while ago, hated it, took a break from it, came back and finished it — bon appetit. Bahaha! No, the break from it was much needed. I think I was tired when I said it was awful, because upon review it wasn't that bad. I love this one, you guys. I'm jealous of them. I'm jealous of the fictional couple that I created. I hope you guys like this one! Part 3 will have ze smut, so you have to be patient and polite as you wait for it hehe. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a singing telegram— really anything. Ok! I love you!

Kisses 💋

—K

Part I. Series Masterlist Part III

The sound of random tinkering and a distant radio at the end of Mack’s Auto Garage welcomed you with a familiar warmth. Cars and trucks littered the parking lot and garage, random parts and pieces that made absolutely no sense to you sprawled out over the work benches. Eddie had a morning shift today, much to his dismay, but when money calls— he answers. Parking next to his decrepit van, you fiddle with the strap of your bag as you meander through the concrete workspace looking for him. You hear him long before you see him.

“Where did I put it? Son of a—“

“Missing something, Munson?” You interrupted Eddie’s nearly frantic search of his locker, his head snapping up in surprise. His normally untamed hair was pulled back into a low bun (with a scrunchie that looks suspiciously like the one you misplaced two weeks ago) with his favorite bandana tied around his brow to keep the sweat off. The dark blue coveralls with his name etched in red thread on his left chest were unzipped at his waist, a plain white t-shirt adorning his chest, oil and dirt smeared into the fabric were he wiped his hands clean on his thighs.

“Yeah, my freaking lighter. That thing must have finally grown legs and ran off or some shit,” he rambles and resumes to pat down the pockets of his leather jacket. “What are you doing here?”

“You left this in my car,” you slip the silver flip lighter from the back pocket of your black jeans and wiggle it between your thumb and index finger, “figured you’d need it sooner than later.”

“Oh, you’re a beautiful, gracious, and kind woman,” he groans dramatically with relief, happily taking the lighter from you. You chuckle and lean against the hood of the car at his bench, Eddie following suit. He pops a cigarette into his mouth and lights it swiftly, taking a long drag, his eyes shut as he holds it in at the top, and slowly blowing out a wispy cloud of smoke.

“Jesus Christ, you have no idea how badly I needed that,” he grumbles before bringing it back to his lips, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh. Yeah, you, too, Sweets, thanks,” he teases with a coy smile. You playfully shove his shoulder, making him laugh around the cigarette. “We still on for drinks later with Steve and them?”

“7, right?” He hums an affirmative, “yeah, that sounds good,” you glance at the clock on the wall, “Shit, I gotta go, my shift starts soon.”

“Okay,” he nods, crushing out the partially spent cigarette in the ashtray on his bench as you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket. “Wear that cute top, the black one that hangs off your shoulders,” he calls out after you as you walk away.

“Why?” You chuckle and turn to look at him while you walk backwards, the move alone made Eddie think you were the coolest fucking chick that ever graced this floating space rock.

“It’s pretty,” he shrugged casually as he slung the arms of his coveralls back on, but you noticed the soft dusting of color along his cheeks.

“Fine, but only if you tuck your shirt into your pants,” you bargain and point at him from your spot at the mouth of the garage. He groans, making you laugh.

“I’m going to look like a loser!” He whines, failing to hide his smile at your giggling.

“That’s the point! I’ll see you then, Gomer,” you tease and finally get to your car, if you stayed any longer you’d definitely be late for your shift at the record shop.

You heard his van pull into your driveway just as you were finishing the last bit of your eye makeup. You always went light with the mascara and eyeliner for the sake of being comfortable, and it made washing your face a lot easier at the end of the night. The sound of Eddie’s keys jingling was followed by his bright voice calling your name. When you came out of your room, you found him sitting on your counter, munching on a bag of chips.

“Oo, look at you all prettied up,” he coos around a mouthful of Doritos. You feel your face heat up ever so slightly at his words, you did feel pretty. The knit, long sleeve black top that Eddie had requested clung to your shape deliciously, precisely the reason he loved it so much. The neckline was low enough to show off your collarbones and bits of your shoulder, and gave you the perfect opportunity to show off the pendant necklace that Eddie got for your graduation present years ago. Tight ripped black jeans matched Eddie’s own pair down to the black studded belt, except you swapped out your comfortable pair of converses for a chunky black boot. Eddie was positive: you were the coolest chick to ever live.

“I was going to say the same thing about you, Munson,” you chuckle and take him in, he does a little twirl. He wore his classic black jeans and handcuff belt, a staple in Eddie’s uniform. A black AC/DC t shirt hugged his sturdy torso and was neatly tucked into his jeans, just like you asked. You gotta admit: he did not look like a loser. He never did.

“Ya think so? I was worried that my jacket didn’t match my purse,” he jokes.

“No, no, they do, don’t worry,” you soothe and try to hide your smile. Suddenly, you speak before your mind can catch up with what you’re saying. “Do you want some eyeliner?”

“What?” Eddie chuckles, licking the Dorito dust from his fingers. You swallow and decide, fuck it, you already asked.

“Do you want some eyeliner? I think it would… look nice,” you stutter out as smoothly as you can. He thinks it over for a brief second before he nods casually.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Eddie manages to sound calm, much to his surprise. His heart may have skipped a few beats at your small compliment.

The next thing he knows you have him sat at your vanity, facing you as you stand in between his legs. One hand gently cups his jaw while the other wields a stick of your favorite black eyeliner. You try your best not to get lost in the feeling of his stubble scratching at your palm or the warmth of his hands on your outer thighs, and focus on drawing in the darkness around his eyes. Eddie sits as still as he can, the last thing he wants is to lose an eye. He trusts you completely, it’s his fidgeting that he doesn’t trust.

“Ok, close your eyes for me,” you say softly, the closeness brought your voice to a hushed whisper. Eddie shut his eyes without a second thought, he listened to the steady inhale and exhale as you stood in front of him. Eddie was unfairly gorgeous, his sweeping eyelashes, the placid expression that soothed his face coupled with the calm trust that surrounded you both made your heart flutter and your knees buckle. Steeling your nerves, you carefully applied the makeup along his upper lashes. “Alright, open. Look up, please.”

Eddie stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to flinch as you brought the product under his lashes. He wished so badly to be able to watch you, you were so cute when you concentrated on things. Your eyebrows furrowed, drawn together in concentration, and your face set in an oddly serious expression. With one last smudge of eyeliner, you pulled back with a smile.

“All done. What d’ya think?” You ask and put your makeup away as he turns to look in the mirror.

“Not bad, not bad. What do you think?” He quirks an eyebrow. If you were honest, he was the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and that was without the makeup on. With the dark circles rimming his gorgeous brown eyes, he was deadly. But you couldn’t exactly say that.

“I think you look super cool,” you say honestly and grab your purse.

“Metal?” He stood up, following you out of your room.

“Very metal, but if we don’t get going soon, we’re going to be very late,” you chuckle and hand him his leather jacket and keys. Eddie nods and slips one his jacket with ease, the full ensemble complete, and, fuck, did he look hot. He locked the front door after you, skipping quickly ahead to open the passenger seat door for you.

“M’lady,” he bows, grinning like an idiot when you curtsey back and hop in.

It was going to be a fun night.

And it was.

Steve, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy were sat comfortably at the table when you and Eddie arrived. Jokes were told, laughs were shared, and drinks were poured. Lots and lots of drinks. By midnight, the whole table was on the heavier side of tipsy, if not drunk. Steve and Robin were neck deep in a debate on whether or not Michael Myers was human or not, with Jonathan acting as moderator while Nancy fought through the spins. At some point, you ended up in Eddie’s lap, your arm slung around his shoulders with his own circled around your waist while you both listened and weighed in on what you have dubbed “The Great Halloween Dispute of 1987.”

Eddie had slipped his jacket off after his second beer, revealing his toned arms (all those shifts at the garage were paying off in more ways than one), the short sleeves of his t shirt rolled up ever so slightly. You toyed with a strand of Eddie’s hair like always and sipped on a glass of water, one that Eddie was quick to swipe from your hand. He took a good gulp without much thought and set it on the table.

“Well, Princess, what do you think? Should we call it a night?” He slurs his words as he rubs the length of your outer thigh absentmindedly.

“Yeeaah,” you drawl, your head was starting to spin even from the safety of Eddie’s lap. Looking down at him, you were struck again with the overwhelming feeling flooding your heart. Even in the low light of the seedy bar, he looks like the perfect man that God, or whoever is up there, made just for you. You bring one hand to rest on his forearm, your thumb stroking the bat tattoos you love gently. Eddie tightens his grip on you before giving you that million dollar smile, one that you can’t help but return with drunken ease. He pats your leg, signaling for you to stand, and you do, much to your objection (you were quite comfortable in his lap).

“Alright, gang, as fun as it’s been, the missus and I gotta head out,” Eddie announces as you slip away to pay for your drinks before he can. A chorus of slurred but friendly goodbyes send Eddie on his way to the bar just as you finish forking over the money for both his and your drinks. “Noooo, you don’ pay for drinks,” he scolds as you put your wallet away, his face scrunched in a pout.

“Yeah? Who said?” You playfully tease as he slides his leather coat over your shoulders, one glance outside and he knew that you’d be chilly on the way to the van. You subtly breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, the same one you got for his birthday 2 years ago.

“Pretty girls don’ pay for drinks, everyone knows that,” he casually answers, he was much bolder with about 4 glasses of liquid courage warming his blood. You laugh, not bothering to hide the bashfulness in your voice and he smiles at the sound, leading you out to the van at the far end of the parking lot. He saw the way you shivered and pulled the oversized jacket around you tighter. Fishing his keys from his pocket, he opens the back doors and quickly starts setting up the blankets he had stored in the back. You must have made a face because Eddie’s soon laughing and shaking his head. “M’not drivin’ you home drunk, Princess. Could get ya hurt, s’too dangerous. Now, com’on.”

Your heart does a summersault at his words, but that’s just who he was. Caring, sweet, understanding, reliable, trustworthy. That’s Eddie Munson. He sees the fondness in your smile again, his stomach erupting in butterflies. If he wasn’t such a chicken shit, this is where he would tell you how gorgeous you are and kiss you, if you’d let him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he hops out of the van and holds out his hand to help you inside.

The old mattress he keeps tucked away in the back is draped in blankets, folded as neatly as a drunk Eddie could get them. You sit at the end of the makeshift bed, your legs hanging out the doors to take off your boots. Without a word, Eddie starts untying your laces, carefully undoing the knots, slipping the shoes off your feet and setting them neatly next to the mattress.

“Thank you,” you meekly reply, the sweet gesture having stolen your voice.

“You’re welcome, Sweets,” he pats your leg, “scoot over.”

He hops in, shutting the doors behind him before double checking that all the doors are locked. You hide a yawn behind your hand as he settles down on the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes unceremoniously. You slip off your belt and other jewelry, opting to stay in your jeans for the night. Eddie does the same, slinging his belt into the pile with his shoes before crawling under the questionably clean blanket. He sighs and settles in with a groan, his eyes shutting for only a moment before he’s watching you tuck your earrings into the pocket of his leather jacket. You turn around to find Eddie making grabby hands at you, smiling, you crawl in next to him, letting him pull you into his chest and tuck the blanket around you both snugly. The chill of the van made cuddling a necessity, even under the blanket you could feel the stagnant bite of cold of the coming winter. Letting out a content sigh, you relaxed into the comfortable silence, the world around you only slightly spinning now as sleep began to descend on you. Eddie stares up at the metal roof, his eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier as the moments tick by.

“I like when you tuck your shirts in,” you sleepily confess, your voice was hushed as you whispered your little secret to your best friend. He can’t help but chuckle tiredly at your words, the sound more akin to a deep rumble as opposed to his normally bright laughter.

“Yeah?” Is all he can think to say, his face burning even in the chilly van.

“Yeah,” you shyly confirm, tracing the bats on his forearm once more, the action sends Eddie into a tizzy.

“Y’like when I look like a dweeb?” He jokes with a yawn, sleep fast approaching.

“You never look like a dweeb,” you mumble just before you drift off, your fingers slowing to a stop on his skin, If he wasn’t tired, he would have teased you to hell and back about it, but all he can do it chuckle lowly in his chest and hold you a little tighter. Why do you have to be so cute?

“I like when we sleep like this,” he rested his cheek on the top of your head, letting one hand stroke your arm tenderly, the action only pushing you quicker towards sleep. He hears you hum in acknowledgement and agreement.

“Me too, Eds.”

There’s a few moments of silence before Eddie realizes you’re asleep.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Eddie whispers with a smile and kisses the crown of your head, the sound of your even breaths fill the van and lull him into his own peaceful slumber.

Eddie wakes up to the sound of your soft snores and the growl of a stray truck chugging down the street. Your back is pressed to his front as you both lay on your sides, his arm under your head like a pillow and out stretched, his other arm was strung across your waist. The warmth of your body pressed against his had fought off the cold of the night exceptionally well, it drew him in for more, so he buried his face into the crook of your neck. The smell of your perfume mixing with the scent of his own cologne had Eddie groaning softly, this was the life. Nothing could bring him down, not even the soft thudding in his head or the dryness of his mouth.

You stirred next to him, your eyes still shut as you reached out for Eddie’s hand on instinct. When your smaller hand found his, you immediately laced your fingers together. Eddie looked at where your hands were joined and gave a small incredulous scoff and smile, his arm around your midsection squeezed you into him hard enough to force the air out of you.

“Why are you so damn cute? Huh? Who said you could be this fucking adorable?” He rambled on in a groggy whisper, his morning voice was just as glorious as you remember it being. You giggle as consciousness fills you.

“It’s a curse, really. Doctors have been studying me for years, it’s a medical mystery,” you joke and carefully rub your eyes with your free hand. You were surprised to find that you felt well rested for having slept in the back of your best friend’s van after a night of drinking with no pillow, in a pair of tight jeans, and no fan. You peek over your shoulder to find Eddie’s puppy eyes already staring back at you. The smudges of eyeliner looked even better in the morning sunshine. You could only imagine how you look right now. “Wanna get breakfast?”

“God, yes,” he mumbles with a smile. He was starving, plus he wanted to pay you back for covering his drinks last night. Reluctantly, he peels his hand from yours to reach for his shoes and keys. You hum and stretch out a little, cracking your back before getting your shoes back on as well. You’re both quick to fold the blankets and get into your seats, the pits in your stomach rumbled and demanded to be satisfied. The drive to the nearest diner was thankfully short.

Before long, you and Eddie find yourselves tucked into a booth with plates of hot food and even hotter coffee in front of you. The looks you receive from the other patrons did nothing but amuse you both. And what a sight you both were: strolling in at 9am reeking of the drink that Nancy accidentally spilled, last night’s makeup smeared across your eyes, bed hair, both dressed to the nines in black. Compared to the lovely elderly couple on their weekly Sunday morning date, you both looked like bats out of Hell. When you offered the old woman a polite smile, she was quick to return it, her husband was busy staring Eddie down, clearly not a fan of his tattoos or makeup. Soon, the plates were cleared and the cups were emptied, and you both meandered your way back to the van.

“Alright, Sweetheart, back home, it is?” He asks as he backs out of the parking lot, you scroll through the radio stations, hoping to find something good on.

“Yes, please, I need to shower,” you groan, the longer you stayed in your makeup the more grimy you felt. A hot shower would solve all your problems.

“Oo, no chance you’ll let me join, would you?” Eddie half jokes, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes with a smile and shake your head. “Damn, next time, then.”

Quicker than he’d like, he parks in front of your trailer. You gather your things, double checking that you have everything before hopping out of the passenger side. With a quick goodbye, you’re bounding indoors, making a beeline for the shower. Eddie watches until you’re inside then makes his own way home. He’s surprised to find Wayne’s car parked in its spot in the yard.

“You just getting in?” Wayne asks as soon as the door opens, Wayne sat at the kitchen table, eating whatever leftovers were in the fridge before heading to bed. Eddie sets his keys aside on the table and nods. “Out with that girl, again?” Eddie gives him a look as he sought out a glass of water, Wayne knew your name but he just liked giving Eddie a hard time, especially when he stays out all night.

“Yeah, we had some drinks with some friends, it ran a little later than planned.”

“Did you and her…” Wayne trails off, tilting his head to finish his sentence.

“Oh God,” Eddie sighs and hangs his head. Wayne would ask from time to time, and it never ceased to be awkward as balls.

“I’m just askin’. If you are, I’d rather you be safe about i—“ he defends calmly.

“I know how to be safe about—“ Eddie cuts himself off with another sigh, rubbing his face with both his hands. “I know how to be safe, but no. We did not… do things.”

“Ok,” Wayne nods, throwing his hands up in surrender to show that he dropped it. Eddie relaxes and finishes his water, happy to escape the awkward conversation. Or so he thought. “It’s obvious you like her, so I thought it would have happened by now.”

Eddie sputters a few words, each sentence of denial dying on his tongue. Wayne gives him a look and Eddie just knows that denying it isn’t any good. He flops into the chair on the other side of the table, looking up to his uncle through his lashes.

“How obvious is it?” Eddie asks softly. In that moment, Wayne sees the years fall away from Eddie and what’s left behind is what Wayne saw all those years ago: his kid nephew, lost and needing guidance. He smiles warmly, a rare sight, and scratches his head.

“Well, it’s not super obvious,” Wayne grumbles gently, resting his forearms on the table, “but I’m sure some of your friends notice it too.”

Eddie curses under his breath, his face hot with embarrassment. If other people could see how bad he has it for you, then that means you might see it too.

“Do… Do you think she knows?” He asks shyly, fiddling with the rings on his fingers for comfort. Wayne leans back in his chair, giving a small shrug.

“She might,” that answer weighs heavily on Eddie but Wayne is quick to try fix it, “but, would that be a bad thing?”

“Yes! No! I-I don’t know,” Eddie rambles, bouncing his leg as he does the mental gymnastics of trying to figure out if you knew.

“Personally, kid, I don’t think it would be. Knowin’ that you love her, how could that be bad?” His words knock around in Eddie’s head for a few moments before he speaks in a small voice.

“It could ruin everything,” Wayne couldn’t help but laugh at those words.

“Kid, lovin’ someone doesn’t ruin a damn thing,” he smiles and crosses his arms. “If it’s right, then it’s right. If not, then it’s not. But that doesn’t mean that it’s wrong.”

Eddie took in his words again, chewing his lip nervously. He hated when Wayne was like this, all insightful and wise. It was unnerving, but at the same time, he always knew exactly what Eddie needed to hear.

“You do what you think is best, Eddie. I’m gonna go to bed now, I’ll see ya tonight,” he stands and pats Eddie’s back as he makes his way towards the pull out sofa. Eddie mumbles his goodnights and makes his way to his own room, Wayne’s alarmingly wise words knocking around his head as he gets ready for a shower.

Would it be so bad if you knew? He was going to find out.

Part I. Part III

Reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💖

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aida-sparks · 4 months

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Eddie liked Buck from the start, but where are we now?

I've convinced myself that Eddie liked Buck from the very beginning - but only subconsciously. I mean, look at how he's watching Buck in 2x01, even as Buck is being bratty as they work out.

Even though Buck has been anything but kind to him up to this point, Eddie's more miffed than angered by it. Maybe a little disappointed too.

We all know by the end of 2x01, Eddie wins Buck over, and they both quasi promise to have each other's back. And then the rest of their story so far has many important and telling moments, but what if we fast forward to season 6 episode 15 and that loaded graveyard scene? Is this scene the moment where Eddie Diaz finally *consciously* realizes that his feelings for Buck are not only platonic? It was such a layered scene. Of course, there is Eddie's shellshocked reaction to Buck's proclamation that Natalia, the death doula who he just met, really sees him (bites lip in agitation), but beyond that...

It's clear that Eddie goes on to have a profound revelation after Buck says that. But what does it mean?!

He tells Buck, "You haven't been the same since it happened. But how could you be?" as he turns away and processes something internally. Perhaps something about himself as well. Eddie actually looks a little startled. A few seconds later, he reassures Buck that he doesn't have to be anyone for anybody and that experiences like this change them. He goes on to ask Buck what changed in him. I think the moment Eddie admits Buck hasn't been the same, he realizes that he has changed too. Exactly how is not made clear. Even Buck's own response to Eddie's question is vague (he says he feels like he cheated death). How did Eddie change? How did Buck change? The writers don't commit Buck and Eddie's feelings clearly in dialogue, so fans are forced to speculate, and it's why the general audience members, who don't rewatch scenes and lean in hard to the characters, think us buddie shippers are clowning half the time. *deep sigh*

But being left to my own speculation, I do think Eddie's revelation here is at least partly related to Buck. He looked disappointed when he learned Buck was starting something with Natalia. He looked hurt when Buck said she "sees him" -- and maybe those reactions surprised something in Eddie. I don't think the man he was raised to be would have recognized those feelings; he wouldn't have admitted to feeling them on a conscious level. But of course, that's why "change" is a theme in this scene and Eddie has looks like he's putting 2 and 2 together. Part of me feels Eddie was in touch with his feelings for Buck well before this episode, but then I don't know how else to interpret what the graveyard scene was meant to be if not Eddie coming to terms with the fact that he may be in love with his best friend, even as said best friend proclaims he has a new love interest in the picture. This take could set up Eddie secretly pining over Buck in season 7 quite well, though. Oh, my angst-ridden heart. I'd love to read others' thoughts on this! I'm glad I joined tumblr to read all the buddie and 9-1-1 meta out there. Forgive me if it looks like I don't know what I'm doing. I don't. I'm still new around here.

#buddie thoughts #911 buddie #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie meta #911 abc #911 speculation #buck x eddie #graveyard scene #2x01 #6x15

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jklinges2003 · 9 months

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Just a Ghost of a Girl You Once Knew and Loved

A/N: Hey guys I decided to make my first short fanfiction on here. Even though I’ve made a lot of fanfics on Quotev, this is my first time writing one on tumblr, so if I mess up, don’t judge lol! Anyway, I started watching “The Summer I Turned Pretty” with my mom, including watching season 2 this summer and I swear it just leaves me intrigued, makes me laugh, makes feel like I’m actually in it and I wish I really was. And I am so team Jeremiah all the way! So, after I watched 2x06 and 2x07, in episode 6, Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss while at the end of episode 7, they finally kiss, but I can’t find the GIF from episode 6 from when they almost kiss cuz that’s what I want this short fanfic to be about and take place in. And I also might switch POVs.

codes: Y/N = Your name

Y/EC = Your eye color

SUMMARY: So, I imagined what would happen if a girl in the show (Y/N) was best friends with Belly for a long time and had a huge crush on Jeremiah at first, and even Y/N hooked up with Jeremiah in the first season but after him and Conrad’s mom Susannah died and after Y/N has been seeing signs of Jeremiah having feelings for Belly, they broke up before the events of season 2, but Y/N’s feelings for Jeremiah have never faded and as the group reunited in season 2, Y/N has been holding onto hope that something could happen with her and Jeremiah because she’s missed him so much. And even Jeremiah feels the same, but he just wouldn’t admit to her or even to himself since a part of him still has feelings for Belly. And throughout season 2, Y/N has been trying some casual attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention but failed every time. So, one night as the gang throws a party at the beach house to honor Susannah, and while Y/N was hanging out with a couple of friends, she witnesses something that just pushes her to her breaking point, increases her insecurities and her anger/jealousy towards Belly while she’s been trying to keep her friendship with her intact, and Y/N’s heartbroken behavior strikes a chord in Jeremiah and hits him with guilt.

SONG: “Part of Your World (Reprise II)” by Halle Bailey from Disney’s live-action Little Mermaid. I feel like the song matches Y/N’s situation really well, and I love Disney songs, so I wanted to choose this song.

Y/N’s POV:

The party for Susannah has been going great! It’s fun, loud, and it was a beautiful way to honor Susannah. I hoped I’d get closer with Jeremiah this time because out of all the attempts to try and get his attention while he’s been going all lovey-dovey on Belly even though they’re not even dating, I’ve failed. Jeremiah and I had something special last summer, we bonded really well, he brought out the best in me, and there’s nobody like him. He’s irreplaceable. At first I’ve always been a very shy and self-conscious girl, but after bonding with Jeremiah, his childish personality and his sweetness and fun energy is just so contagious that it just makes you wanna have fun and laugh with him. So, he brought out the fun and confidence that I never knew I had in me. And we even felt a strong connection and spark between us. Being with him always made me feel safe, he’s easy to talk to, he’s relatable, his light blue eyes just take my breath away and you can easily see the emotion in them. But, unfortunately, I regret us breaking up in the first place after Susannah died. And I could see it in his eyes that he does, too. Whenever he and I would talk, I could easily see that he feels lost and confused, like he wants to be with me again as if us breaking up was a mistake for him, too, but also another part of him wants to be with Belly since his feelings for her never faded while my feelings for Jeremiah have never faded. And every time he’d be affectionate and sweet towards Belly, my close best friend and who’s like a sister to me, I can’t help but feel nauseous as if seeing the sight of them together just makes me wanna puke, even though they’re not dating, but I respect their close friendship since they grew up together, and I have been trying to be strong and understanding and nice, but inwardly I just feel sick and it’s suffocating me, like I’m tired of bottling it up. And I have no one to talk to about it since I feel like they wouldn’t understand and that they’d think of me as just a sad pathetic ex-girlfriend who can’t get over her ex-boyfriend.

After watching Taylor and Steven’s talented dance moves for the song “Party In The U.S.A.”, I went back to hang out with Nicole and Dara. We laughed and talked for a bit until one of the girls brought up a relationship she’s in, and that immediately made me think of Jeremiah.

Since Jeremiah has always brought out the confidence in me, I have been thinking about it for a while and I have been waiting all summer to tell him my feelings and that I’ve never stopped loving him even though I was scared to since I didn’t wanna stand in the way between him and Belly. But, I realized I’ve got nothing to lose, and that it’s now or never.

I excused myself from the girls and walked into the crowd to look for Jeremiah. I looked and looked and looked. Until I saw something that just hit me in the heart. I saw Jeremiah and Belly sitting together closely, talking and looking at each other that way. I stood and watched worriedly as I glanced at Jeremiah and then Belly. The way they looked at each other was the same way me and Jeremiah looked at each other last summer when we hooked up and fell in love. I felt like I just wanted to run out of the room and throw up. Then, they stopped talking while still looking at each other with smirks, and then they both slowly leaned in, almost about to kiss until a girl yelling “Fight! Fight!” in another room interrupted them and gathered a crowd. Seeing Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss just hit me in my breaking point. I was about to tell Jeremiah how I felt and that I never stopped loving him, but after seeing what I saw…my chance was ruined. I was too late. The hope I had in me all summer was broken and turned into dust. And I felt ignored after all the tried-and-failed attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention, like as if I were a ghost of a girl he once knew and loved. Like as if what we had before was just nothing.

While the fight between Taylor’s ex-boyfriend Milo and Belly’s brother Steven was occurring in the other room, some other kids didn’t bother to watch the fight and just stayed behind, wanting to stay out of it. And also they were also either drunk or high. I’ve never been one to drink or do drugs or smoke or any of that stuff, I’ve made a vow to myself that I’d live life in a clean state of mind. But after witnessing Jeremiah and Belly together, since it hit my breaking point, I was at that stage where I didn’t wanna feel anything anymore.

I walked over to the group of kids in the kitchen, not wanting to talk to them, and instead just opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. Since my emotions were shut off, I let my impulsiveness get the best of me and I started to open the bottle and chug the alcohol drink. I didn’t care that it tasted bad, I was just tired of feeling this way. After finishing half of the bottle already and walking around the party, trying to avoid Jeremiah, I then saw him and Conrad standing outside with Belly stuck in the middle of them and the two brothers were arguing, and I could easily tell that it was about Belly.

Ever since Belly has been hooking up with Jeremiah at first and then Conrad and then having to choose between them, I felt bad for her but I also got irritated at her because every time they would be loving and sweet to her, instead of listening to her heart about who she truly wants to be with, she just kept letting it happen and kept throwing herself at them, playing both brothers. They both don’t deserve that. Especially Jeremiah since after he and I got together, Belly and Conrad got together temporarily, and then since Jeremiah’s been crushing on Belly while he was really in love with me, and he was angry at Belly for hooking up with Conrad since her and Jeremiah kissed before while he and I were together which also caused our relationship to go downhill. The love triangle between Jeremiah, Belly, and Conrad is just stupid and annoying since Belly won’t make a decision about who she truly wants to be with, and now with me in it, it has turned into a love square. And the last thing I wanted was to be involved in a love triangle, let alone a love square. And now I got dragged into it due to my feelings for Jeremiah never leaving me. Could things get any worse?!

I continued drinking the rest of the bottle of beer, trying to numb everything inside me and to just escape from the pain. I started to get a little tipsy and even though it felt wrong, it also felt good since it helped numb the pain. Then while stumbling around the party and then sitting on the floor in a corner of a room, taking a few more swigs of the beer bottle, I started to lose myself into sorrow and despair.

The bottle of beer was then almost done. I was now really drunk. I kept accidentally bumping into people while stumbling and trying to keep myself standing. But, I started to hear Nicole ask me if I was okay since she saw that I wasn’t myself. My facial expression was blank, my eyes looked like as if something inside them had died, my face was tear-stained which caused a bit of mascara to run down my face, and my hair was a little bit untidy. When she asked if I was okay, my vision was blurry, my hearing was distorted and echoey, and my head was spinning and fuzzy. I didn’t respond to Nicole and instead just accidentally lost my balance near another kid who was carrying a glass of a drink, causing that kid to accidentally drop his glass which broke when it fell. And when I fell, the palm of my hand landed on the broken glass which caused my hand to bleed a little, but I didn’t feel the pain since I was numb and drunk.

A tiny crowd of the people gathered around me and started to look at me in concern, worry, and confusion all at once, and that was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t wanna be viewed as someone who was fragile and vulnerable, even though I knew that it was okay to be vulnerable once in a while since everybody has strengths and weaknesses. But, I just didn’t care anymore.

While there was a few people gathered around me, I kept reassuring them that I was okay, but the one person who I definitely didn’t want to check on me was none other than Jeremiah himself, but he checked on me anyway.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?” Jeremiah asked as he kneeled down beside me to try to help me up, but I kept brushing him off and tried to pretend that I wasn’t hurting, both emotionally and physically. Emotionally from witnessing Jeremiah and Belly almost about to kiss, and physically from losing my balance due to my drunken state and falling to the floor and the palm of my hand landing on broken glass. So I even tried to hide my drunken state from Jeremiah since I didn’t want his pity.

“It’s f-f-fine. I’m…fine, Jer.” I tried to reassure, my voice slurring a bit as I tried to help myself up and stand on my own feet without losing my balance again and without Jeremiah seeing my bleeding hand.

But, he was looking at me that way with concern and worry. I finally managed to stand on my own two feet and then walked away from the crowd, stumbling and limping.

Jeremiah’s POV:

Seeing Y/N like this had me worried. I didn’t know what was going on with her, but she seemed pretty drunk and she looked upset for some reason. She shouldn’t be alone. She could get hurt or end up doing something stupid.

I followed her as she stumbled out of the room, but I lost her in the crowd. I looked around for her until something caught my eye. I saw her outside on the patio, walking away from the beach house and just heading down to the beach, still stumbling and limping.

I walked outside to the patio and follow Y/N down to the beach with the dark night sky in the view. She didn’t look like herself. I was really worried.

“Y/N! Y/N, what are you doing?” I asked her in concern as I caught up with her. Her pupils were dilated, her hair was untidy, she could barely walk, and she even had mascara running down her face so she looked like she had been crying. But why?

“Going to the beach. What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked sassily, her voice slurring. She was definitely drunk. I’ve always known her to be a goody-goody girl who would never want to drink, do drugs, or smoke, but she was actually drunk. What changed?

“But, y-you’re drunk. Are you sure you’re okay? And you fell back in there. Are you hurt?” I asked as I stopped her from walking any further towards the water since she’s too intoxicated to go for a swim. When I asked if she was hurt, I looked all over her body for any cuts or bruises or anything, until I spotted her hand bleeding. I took that hand gently and looked at her worriedly. But she immediately yanked her hand away and glared at me for some reason before stumbling to walk further towards the water. I stood in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders, preventing her from doing so.

“Y/N, your hand is bleeding. We need to clean that up and put either some band-aids or gauze on there. Let’s just go back inside, okay?” I said to her calmly, but sternly and worriedly before I put an arm around her shoulders to help her walk back inside the beach house. But she immediately refused and put up a fake smile, and her fake smile looked angry.

“No! No, no, no, no. I’m fine, Jer. You don’t need to help me. Why don’t you go and help Belly instead, hm? I’m sure she’s probably going through a lot after being stuck having to choose between you and your brother. So go ahead, why don’t you go help her and be her shoulder to cry on? I can take care of myself.” Y/N said while slurring before letting out a hiccup at the end of her last sentence. She was being stubborn as hell. And this was also a side of her that I’ve never seen before. Why was she acting this way, especially towards me?

“Y/N, I’m not gonna leave you out here by yourself, especially with your drunken behavior. I’m not gonna let you do something stupid. Like, what were you planning to do out here at the beach? Why were you walking towards the water?” I asked her, trying to be calm and gentle, but I had a bad feeling about Y/N’s intentions that it built worry inside me which caused me to raise my voice a little bit.

“None of your business. What is this, 20 questions or something? Just leave me alone, Jeremiah.” Y/N spat out, still slurring before she walked past me, still stumbling. I watched her about to go into the water, but her legs were shaking as if she could barely stand. I wanted to stop her and go get her, but I wanted to see what she was planning to do first so that I can really know what’s going on. She stopped for a second as the water reached to her knees, then she kept going until it was at her waist and she started to cover her mouth with her hand and then cover her nose with her other hand before she began to dunk her head into the water.

I widened my eyes as it immediately clicked. Y/N was about to kill herself by drowning while drunk! As I finally knew what she was about to do, I immediately took action and rushed into the water, grabbing Y/N by the waist and dragging her out of the water. She started screaming protests at me to let her go, but I couldn’t let her do this. I care about her so much. And…I actually love her, even though a part of me loves Belly. I just don’t know what to do. But after seeing Y/N like this and after us reuniting along with the others, I was actually really glad to see her. She’s a sight for sore eyes. She’s beautiful, she’s kind, caring, warm, honest, sweet, sassy, headstrong, authentic, moral, the voice of reason, and a talented singer with a beautiful voice. She’s even a better singer than I am. I did like her when she was a shy and introverted girl, though, I thought she looked adorable whenever she’d blush. But after we bonded last summer and fell in love, I started to see a more confident and silly side of her and I couldn’t help but love her even more. I miss what Y/N and I had together, even though I love Belly, too, but it’s not really the same with Belly actually. Y/N’s the one I feel something strong and loving for. She’s even tried to be there for me after my mom died, but I was too blind in my own grief and in my own conflicted feelings for Belly to even see it. How could I have been so blind?

Seeing Y/N acting like this was just heartbreaking and shocking to me. I was even more worried about her, especially since she just tried to kill herself by drowning in the ocean while completely drunk.

As I dragged her back to the sand while she was screaming protests at me, I ignored the protests and looked at her in shock, anger, heartbreak, and worry all at once.

“Y/N, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Why are you trying to kill yourself?” I asked her sternly as I held back tears in my eyes since I was trying to be strong for her.

“Why did you just help me?! I told you to go be with Belly!” Y/N snapped while slurring as tears filled her eyes. Why is she bringing up Belly while I’m focusing on Y/N and her safety?

“Y/N, this isn’t about Belly, this is about you. You’re drunk, you look like you’ve been crying, you’re acting like a different person, and you tried to kill yourself! Why are you acting like this, Y/N? Did something happen? Talk to me.” I said to her sternly, but calmly as I tried to keep myself together.

“No, if you wanna go be with Belly, be with her! She’s all yours! I won’t stand in the way! So, just leave me alone!” Y/N snapped as a tear rolls down her cheek, her voice still slurring. Why is she talking about Belly like this? She’s Y/N’s best friend and they’ve always been like sisters. This wasn’t the Y/N I knew and loved.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? What do you mean you won’t stand in the way and that Belly’s all mine? Where’s all this coming from?” I asked her in concern, hoping to get her to talk. But, she immediately exploded the truth about the cause of her problem while slurring.

“I SAW! I saw everything! I saw you and Belly almost kiss back in there before the fight between Milo and Steven broke out!” Y/N shouted through her slurs and through her tears. She even had her eyes either looking down or her eyes closed as if she could barely look at me.

When she admitted that to me, I started to remember when me and Belly talked back in the house during the party, and we talked about the flings I had from last summer and through the whole year after me and Y/N broke up and when Belly got together with Conrad. Then I remembered telling Belly that she’s a better kisser than out of all the girls and guys I’ve kissed, including Y/N. I can’t believe I actually said that because Y/N was a good kisser, too. She really was. And I even remembered during this whole summer when me and her and the rest of the gang were hanging out and Y/N tried some attempts to get my attention since she must’ve had hope for us and I didn’t even realize it. I’ve been ignoring Y/N all summer and I didn’t realize it till now. How could I have been so stupid?!

I felt such a pang of guilt and regret for how I’ve been treating Y/N. I’ve treated her as if she weren’t around and as if she were second and I’ve been putting Belly first. I realized Belly’s not the only one stuck in the middle of a love triangle and between me and my brother, I was even stuck between two girls who matter so much to me. With Belly, it was real and I really loved her, at first it was like a brother and sister relationship, but…ever since I saw her last summer, I was done for. She took my heart with her. But then, at that time, Belly brought Y/N to Cousins for the first time and introduced her as her best friend, and Y/N just took my breath away. I know that I started to feel something for Belly, but when I met Y/N, I knew there was something special about her that was just so magnetic to me. I wanted to know her. And what we had was real and strong, too. And I realized now that it was stronger than what me and Belly had because even if Belly liked me back a bit, it was always gonna be Conrad for her, even if she wouldn’t admit it. It finally hit me.

Y/N’s the one for me.

I looked at her with guilt, regret, and sympathy as I realized what I put her through and what she had to witness tonight. I put a hand on her arm, trying to be as comforting as possible.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I-I-I didn’t realize that you…” I was just at a loss for words as I still kept trying to process this.

“That I what?! Huh? That my feelings for you still haven’t faded and that I never stopped loving you?! I’ve tried to get your attention all summer and tried to get you to realize that I’m still here, but you just kept pining for Belly and acting all affectionate to her while you ignored me and acted as if I wasn’t the room, like as if what we had together has been forgotten! And you and her aren’t even dating, yet you act like you are, even though you two are best friends, but why can’t you just admit it to yourself that…that you still love me, too? I’ve seen it in your eyes, they can easily tell what you’re feeling. And when you were around me this summer, I had hope for us! But you just won’t open your eyes and realize what’s right in front of you! I was about to tell you how I felt, and yet I catch you and Belly about to kiss! I just…I just couldn’t bear the sight of that, so I’m actually glad the fight between Milo and Steven broke out and interrupted you and Belly. I know that’s rude to say, but I just can’t pretend that I’m okay anymore! All this time ever since everything that’s happened, I haven’t been okay! And neither have you, and I’ve tried to be there for you and reconnect with you at least, but…you didn’t want anything to do with me and the only person you’d talk to was Belly! I’ve gone through enough hell. And so has Belly, so I’m just gonna go…have a little ‘chat’ with her.” Y/N explained everything to me through her tears and her drunken slurs about the hell she’s been going through ever since me and her broke up and ever since my mom died.

And as she said everything, it was all true and I didn’t even realize it all till now. And what she said struck a chord in me. I’ve been leaving her all alone and I shouldn’t have done that. Well, not anymore. I’m not gonna leave her alone anymore, no matter how much she stubbornly tells me off. I’m gonna make up for my mistakes. Then, as Y/N says the last part, she stumbles as she stands up on her feet, holding her fingers up like quotes. I knew she wasn’t just gonna have chat with Belly, she was gonna confront her. I couldn’t have her do that. Her friendship with Belly has always been so important to her so I couldn’t let her be the one to destroy it by having a confrontation and argument with Belly.

“Y/N, no. Just…Just come back to the house, I’ll let you stay with me, okay?” I offered kindly as I tried to help her and not let her be by herself in her drunken state and in her painful heartbreak.

“No! I don’t need saving, Jer. I’m not some piece of glass who’ll end up breaking. I’m fine. Just let me go.” Y/N protested as she tried to walk away from me and walk back to the house. I wanted to stay with her, but I had to respect her decision if she could handle it. I watched in concern from behind as Y/N kept stumbling up the small wooden board steps that would lead up to the patio of the beach house, her legs started to shake again as if she could barely stand and walk.

She then took another step until she tripped and fell down to her knees, making me immediately rush up to her side and try to help her up and help her walk.

“Y/N, let me help you.” I offered while trying to help her stand, but she pushed me away and kept protesting.

“No! Just leave me alone, Jer! If you don’t walk away right now, I’m gonna have to beat the shit out of you!” Y/N threatened drunkenly while she was holding back tears again and trying to stand up on her own.

“Oh, yeah? Let me see you try. I’m not gonna leave you, no matter how many times you push me away. I’ve pushed you away already, I’m not doing it this time.” I responded with sternness and determination in my voice.

As I challenged her to see her try if she can fight me off and push me away, I knew she didn’t have the guts to do it since I knew she still had love in her heart for me. She sat on her knees while I was kneeling next to her, and she turned around and tried slapping my chest and shoving me away, but her pushes weren’t strong enough. She kept trying and trying through her frustrated grunts as if I were her punching bag, but I didn’t let it affect me. She needed to take it out on anything or anyone. And since she was mad at me, I already took responsibility for how I treated her, so I felt like I deserved to be slapped and pushed since I was actually such an asshole.

Then after a few failed shoves and slight slaps from her, she started to get frustrated and feel defeated since I wasn’t going anywhere. Her shoves and slaps started to weaken and she immediately began to finally let out her tears even more. She broke down sobbing as her attempts to push me away and slap me were weakening and slowing down, and she started to lean her head and body against me while sobbing in defeat, frustration, and heartbreak. I wrapped my arms around her securely and protectively, holding her close to me and never wanting to let go of her.

“Shhh…it’s okay, it’s okay, Y/N. You’re okay, you’re okay, I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? Shh…” I whispered softly while holding her tightly but gently, trying to comfort her. She still kept crying in my arms, one of my hands rubbing her back and my other hand caressing the back of her head and her hair. I held back tears as the sound of her cries just broke my heart.

“Y-You left me, Jer…! Why are you still here? Why aren’t you leaving me now? You…You love Belly…!” Y/N said through her drunken sobs as if she was expecting me to just walk away from her after I’ve been ignoring her all summer that she was used to being walked away and abandoned. My heart was just absolutely breaking for her even more. She didn’t deserve this at all. How could I do this to her?

“Because…Because I…I-I-I still—” I was about to respond to her that it was because I still loved her, but before I could finish, I felt her body go limp and she was breathing normally and peacefully, her eyes were closed while her face was tear-stained, and she still had mascara running down her face. She was passed out drunk in my arms.

I sighed guiltily and shamefully, and yet in relief that she was finally out cold so that she wouldn’t do anything stupid while drunk. Then, I put a hand under her legs while I put another hand under her back, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style.

I walked back in the beach house while carrying a passed out asleep Y/N through the party in the house, hoping everyone wouldn’t gossip or be concerned about it since I was already taking care of it. And also some of the kids were drunk anyway, so I’m sure some of the other kids didn’t care.

Then, I carried Y/N to my empty bedroom which only had my sleeping bag since me and Conrad’s bitchy aunt Julia removed everything from the house since she was selling it. And I hated that the beach house was being sold. It held too much memories of me and Conrad’s mom. But now that all the furniture is gone, it’s like memories of our mom are gone, too.

I gently laid Y/N on another sleeping bag that I had laying next to mine and I tucked her in, making sure she was comfortable. Then, I stood up and looked at her sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful and beautiful, despite that she was a drunken mess tonight and despite the mascara running down her face, she still looked beautiful to me. Then, I started to hear a girl crying coming from the bedroom next to mine. I leaned against the wall and heard Belly drunkenly crying in her bedroom. She was trying to call her mom, Laurel, for help since she had nowhere else to turn to about the situation with her having to choose between me and Conrad which is causing tension between me and my brother and also she told Laurel about trying to get the house back while everything she’s trying to do to help just keeps going wrong and she needed help. Her cries even broke my heart. A part of me wanted to go in there and hold her. I couldn’t bear to have my best friend upset like this. But, after what Y/N has been through not just tonight but throughout the whole year?

I thought about it for a moment again and I looked over at a sleeping Y/N, and I told myself again that I’m never gonna abandon her again. I’ve been focusing on Belly and putting her first all summer that I’ve been ignoring Y/N, so it’s time to make up for my mistakes and put Y/N first this time.

I slowly walked over to her and laid down in my sleeping bag right next to the sleeping bag that Y/N is sleeping in. I stared at her sleeping face again and after what happened tonight, I can’t get it out of my head. I could’ve lost Y/N tonight and it was my fault. As I looked at her with remorse, guilt, care, and sympathy, it felt as if a magnet was pulling me. I sat up and leaned forward and down, planting a gentle loving kiss on Y/N’s cheek before laying back down, getting ready to go to sleep.

Y/N’s POV:

As I was passed out asleep from being drunk tonight, I had no idea where I was at the moment. But, I opened my eyes very slightly in which my vision was very blurry and the room was dark since it was nighttime and my hearing was ringing and echoey as the party was going on downstairs. All I could see was someone’s sleeping face in front of mine, but I couldn’t tell who it was. Instead, my eyes just closed again as my eyelids just felt too heavy to be open and my head was pounding.

The next morning, I started to feel like crap. I opened my eyes slightly as the ringing in my ears started and then finally faded away. My head was pounding, I felt a bit nauseous, makeup was running down my face, and my hair was untidy. I looked around the room and wondered how I got here. I also noticed a gauze wrapped around one of my hands. I couldn’t even remember a thing about what happened last night. I could only remember that I was dancing and hanging out with a couple of girlfriends, and then I was crying for some reason, and that I took a walk on the beach. But the rest was all just a blur.

As I slowly sat up, I immediately heard a familiar voice next to me.

“Morning, Y/N.” Jeremiah said to me sleepily but with a concerned and sympathetic look on his face. I looked over at him and seeing him lay there next to me startled me and left me in surprise. What was he doing here laying next to me while he ignored me all summer? What the hell happened?

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as my head was still pounding a bit.

“Jeremiah? Wh-What are you doing here? What am I doing in…in your empty bedroom? What happened last night?” I asked nervously and in confusion, my voice slightly slurring since I was hungover, and I needed answers.

“You don’t remember?” Jeremiah asked in concern as he sat up, sitting next to me. I tried to think hard and see if I could remember anything about what happened last night, but I couldn’t remember. I looked over at him and shook my head.

Then, the moment was interrupted when me and Jeremiah heard Belly and her mom Laurel arguing in the room next door, their voices muffled until we heard Belly’s bedroom door open and close. Jeremiah helped me stand up to my feet before we both walked over to the door and opened it, only to see a crying Belly walking past us and past Conrad in the hallway. She looked behind her and glanced at us before continuing to walk away and walk downstairs. I wondered why she was upset. But whatever it was, I was concerned and felt bad for her.

Then Conrad looked over at us and glanced at me before looking at his brother as if he were encouraging him or something. Jeremiah nodded softly at him before taking my hand, closing the door behind us as we’re still in his empty bedroom. He sat us on the sleeping bags as I looked at him in confusion and in concern. He looked like he wanted to tell me something.

“Y/N…are you sure you don’t remember anything about last night?” Jeremiah asked me in concern in which I shook my head slightly before responding.

“All I remember is dancing and laughing while hanging out with a couple of girlfriends and then…I was crying for some reason, and then I took a walk on the beach. And the rest is all just a blur. And now for some reason I ended up here. What happened, Jer?” I explained all I could remember before asking him in concern about what else happened last night.

He took a deep breath while trying to find the right words to explain to me about what else happened last night. He looked as if he didn’t wanna bring up what happened last night since it would bring back the pain and heartbreak.

“Well, um…you, uh…you were pretty drunk. And…you were at the beach to go in the water to…to commit suicide, but I stopped you and asked you what was wrong, and you…admitted that you, um…saw me and Belly…almost kiss. And…you also explained to me the hell you’ve been going through ever since our breakup a few months ago and ever since my mom’s death. And…also that I’ve been ignoring you all the summer since I’ve been focusing a lot on Belly and I was too blind to see that…that you were still in my life and…” Jeremiah explained everything to me before he trailed off and paused as he could barely finish the sentence. His eyes were tearing up as he felt huge remorse and guilt for what he put me through and he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, very sorry about how I’ve treated you like as if you weren’t in the room. I’m so sorry I ignored you and didn’t put you first and didn’t realize what you were going through. That’s a mistake I won’t make again. I feel like I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but…I realized that…that I also never stopped loving you.” Jeremiah apologized sincerely as a tear rolled down his cheek. As he explained everything, I started to remember a little bit even though it was still a blur. I felt embarrassed that I vented to him about how I’ve been feeling the night before and I didn’t wanna drag him into my problems. But when he said that he also never stopped loving me, I widened my eyes and looked at him in surprise.

“I…Oh my God, I feel so embarrassed for my behavior. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I dragged you into my problems. But…But what about Belly? You love her, don’t you?” I asked, unsure if he was just playing me if a part of him is gonna feel something for Belly and I didn’t want him to choose between me and her. But I was unaware that he already made a decision.

“Yeah, about that, I thought I felt something for her since…last summer when I saw her new glow up and when she first brought you to Cousins for the first time…I thought I was done for. Like, I really felt something for her, but…when I met you and bonded with you and also she’s always gonna love Conrad, even if she won’t admit it to herself…I realized I was lying to myself. I thought I liked her, but…Belly’s not like you, Y/N. You’re irreplaceable. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t see that sooner. Ending things between us was a mistake. I miss what you and I had just as much as you do. And…I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but I—” Jeremiah said honestly to me as he took my hand. But, I was actually proud of him for finally making his decision. And I just hoped that Belly would soon decide who she truly wants, too, and I hoped it would be Conrad she’d choose because they were actually good together, even though they were opposites.

So, as Jeremiah kept talking, I immediately cut off him off by quickly leaning in and kissing him on the lips, taking him by surprise until he kissed me back. Our kiss was passionate, loving, and tender. His lips just felt so soft and smooth and he was a very good kisser. Then, we pulled away as we gazed in each other’s eyes, his bright blue eyes staring into my Y/EC.

“So…does…does that mean you…forgive me?” Jeremiah asked while he was still in shock from me making the first move and kissing him.

“Of course I forgive you, you lovable doofus.” I responded while smirking and tousling Jeremiah’s golden curls, messing his hair up and making him laugh.

“Hey!” Jeremiah whined playfully through his laughter before flipping his short golden curly hair, making it still look the same as it did before. I giggled before he smirked and tickled me on my waist as revenge from when I untidied his hair.

I squealed and laughed and squirmed around as he tickled me. Then I waved my hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay! I give! I surrender!” I protested through my laughter before Jeremiah stopped tickling me and smirked. Then he leaned down as I was laying down on my back on the sleeping bag and we giggled again before we shared another tender, loving kiss.

I felt my heart beating out of my chest. I was so ecstatic and relieved that I was actually back together with Jeremiah! I felt as if the darkness inside me has been taken away and then the light has risen inside me again.

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kajaono · 6 months

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BBC Sherlock taking John and Sherlock’s relationship for granted creates a rift in the narrative

I have already pointed out in previous post how disappointed I was that John and Sherlock relationship never developed, in a way it should and would have been justified by the narrative

In this point I want to look at how their relationship started and how this was already created the first problems. This review contains multiple spoilers for other Sherlock Holmes shows.

When John and Sherock meet for the fisrt time in ASIP they immediatley start working together.

No hesitation. They both went full in, from minute one onwards. This is a nice way of showing how well John and Sherlock work together, and that they think alike. But on the other hand it feels like Mofftiss took the relationship for granted and said: "These are John and Sherlock. Of course they work perfectly which each other. We do not have to talk about that."

But imo that was TOO fast. There is no conflict. They never have time to discuss where they stand in this relationship. And because Mofftiss pretend, that they work perfectly together, from minute one onwards - even though they just met - it is hard to further develop their relationship from here on. Because it is already perfect. You would need something really big to happen for them to redefine their roles in this relationship. We kind of had that in season 4, but we knew how messy that went. And there was never a TALK after that. Thats also a main problem in this show. John and Sherlock never really talk. It is John who often sits down and talks and Sherlock is not listening. Of course the relationship is developing, but the show never uses its whole potential.

So what would have been a better way of handling their first meeting? A first meeting that allows them to naturelly grow into the relationship... and further develop their relationship?

Elementary

Yeah I am gonna drag Elementary into this again. BBC Sherlock and Elementray share a really similar set up. They meet each other for the first time, and immeditaly move in and start solving cases together. But Elemenetary gives John and Sherlock time to grow into the relastionship.

This moment defines the Joanlock relationship imo. It shows that Joan is ready to confront Sherlock and call out his bullshit, that Sherlock listens and is effected by what Joan thinks and says, that Sherlock still has a lot of work to do. AND - most importantly - that a Johnlock relationship takes effort and is nothing that you can take for granted.

And this show was on air for 7 seasons, with 22 episodes each. Nevertheless the relationship was developing the whole time. In future seasons they are recalling their first meeting, honoring how much they have grown.

Resulting in:

gif by: @marlahey

This is something we never got in BBC Sherlock. We never saw them honoring the growth they made, recalling their first meeting, and having a satisifying conculsion, aka: "I love you" (in what way doesn't matter btw. The Joanlock moment wasn't romantic either).

Of course you could agrue now: "But Elementary did had the time for stuff like that, BBC Sherlock only had 4 seasons, with 3 episodes each."

So let us look at The Irregulars next:

This show starts as a usual crime detective show... with a supernatural twist. But slowly you learn that the core point of the show is the relationship between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

The show is set years after Holmes and Watsons first meeting. Actually when we first meet John his relationship with Sherlock is over already, broken and ruined. Later we - the viewer - get multiple flashback scene, showing us how they first met, how their relationship developed, and why they are not talking with each other anymore, resulting in this glorious moment:

But the show doesn't stop there, it even goes further and shows us how John and Sherlock slowly get closer to each other again. Sitting in the dark, discussing their relationship, the mistakes they made and most important: apologizing.

Still angry at Netflix for cancelling the show.

Of Course we also have other approaches. RDJ Sherlock.

Like BBC Sherlock it leans much more into Crime aspect of the story. But the story still centers around Holmes and Watsons relationship. When we first meet them they have been together long, probably for years. They are already settled in their relationship. They both know their roles in this relationship and they both feel comfortable with it. They behave like an old married couple. And when they fight, it is never serious. The first real problems erupt when Watson decides to marry. And thats the whole core problem of the first movie: Watson moving out of 221B to marry a woman and how Holmes deals with that. He develops from more or less boycotting the marriage to accepting it and gifting Mary and Watson a ring.

The second movie is him trying to accept that his love of his life best friend is married now and trying to solve cases on his own, without Watson. Eventually sacrificing his own life to safe Watson AND Mary. So even though the movies are crime movies, the Johnlock relationship is still the heart of the story.

If the movies wouldn't focus on the Johnlock relationship, the story would be a different one.

Many Johnlock moments in the movies are non-verbal, so excuse the extensive use of gifs here. But there is so much happening on a non-verbal level!

For example the wedding, which is a huge Johnlock moment. John being super nervous before his wedding and you see that Holmes is not happy either, but he still nods, letting Watson know that it is okay and that Watson is making the right decision.

But nevertheless he has to look away when Mary and Watson kiss. The message is clear here. He isn't happy, he is sad because he is loosing the most important person in his life.

Then we have moments like this, (see below) where - during a moment of danger - they cling to each other, making sure the other one is safe. Not being afraid of physical contact. This is something I was also missing in BBC sherlock btw. Physical they always made sure to stay away from each other. When they hugged it was like... a big thing. Which - set in modern times - felt a little bit off. Because in contrast to Miss Sherlock (see below) Holmes was never shown to be actively against physical contact. I wish the production team would have allowed more friendly touches. I mean... ACD Johnlock walks around arm-in-arm and John gets nervous everytime Holmes comes close, because "poeple might talk." Nah...

I think A game of shadows, peaked when Watson and Holmes danced. Because it shows that they have a deep connection. They came from a place where they acted like an old married couple, then being all nervous because of the Watson/Marry wedding, having to re-identify their relationship towards each other, to this finale dance, where - symbolically- they are a couple again. Everything came full circle. It is like: No matter what happens around Watson and Holmes, they will always find their way back to each other. They will always be the center of the story. It will always be them against the rest of the world, no matter what. No excuses.

But acually, the adaptation most close to BBC Sherlock is Miss Sherlock. I mean... it was basically a female japanese copy of BBC Sherlock.

But still... it improved a lot of things. When Sherlock and Wato (Watson) first meet they really can not stand each other. This Sherlock is also rude, but it is really clear that she is on the autism spectrum. She gets overhelmed by too much light and by loud noises. She is really against phyisal contact.

And the most beautiful thing about this adaptation: It knows that in the end Watson will always be Sherlocks weakness. It will not say: "Don't try to drown in the well. Good luck. I am off hugging my sister." (season 4 shade). In Miss Sherlock the finale conflict is: Watson being manipulated to work against Sherlock. Showing, that in the end, it all boils down to their relationship again. And this adaptation wrote a scene that is just.. chef kiss!

When Wato is around, Sherlock is all grumpy towards her. But during the finale Wato is kidnapped. And the show gives us a short look into one of Sherlocks most private moments. The moment she realizes that Wato is kidnapped. A moment where Sherlock is completly alone. And we see a honest and extremly vunerable moment. This one:

Sherlock screaming Watos name in agony. Knowing that she NEEDS Wato. And then she goes and risks everything to save Wato. EVERYTHING!

Her reputation and her life. She is even ready to be killed by Wato.

TL.DR:

So what am I trying to say? That BBC Johnlock has no relationship development? That there isn't any trust between them? Nope, course not.

We see John and Sherlock growing into the relationship, we see Sherlock getting softer because of John, we see John healing because of Sherlock and on the other hand we see Sherlock opening up, telling Watson whats really on his mind. Trying to be a better human, being more social. But imo that should have been the plot of idk... the first season, maybe the second one. Because thats just the beginning. A Johnlock relationship is so mch deeper, holds so much more story potential. Yeah, John and Sherlock belong to ecah other and are good for each other. We know that! Is Sherlock ready to confess his (plantonic) love for Watson by the end of the show? Is Watson so jealous of Sherlocks love interest that he opens a rift in the universe? Is Sherlock having a break down, screaming out Watsons name in agony? I don't want to see John being replaced by a balloon in season 4 (!) and it is played for a joke. Their relationship should be so so so much deeper at that point. For me BBC Sherlock felt like, they stop mid-relationship-development. It feels like Mofftiss said: "John and Sherlock work well with each other and are best friend. What else is there to say?" SO! MUCH! MORE!

They had all this potential, and went nowhere with it. And i don't necessarily mean romantically btw. Eveen Hilson drove into the sunset together eventually...

#bbc sherlock #johnlock #elementary #miss sherlock #the irregulars #rdj johnlock #long post

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