#i do love her and margaret though

[voxmilia]

Truly nothing is more on brand for me to ship than Grazi and Trapper, I really said "I'm gonna take my period piece oc, move her to another period piece, and ship her with the most newsie character there, huh."

[mylittleredgirl]

[and the rest of the post!]

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

by cutting frank out of her life (both because she wants a future he's not offering and because she wants to punish him; i have plenty of thoughts about that too), she has eliminated her only source of friendly human contact. she and frank bonded over being hated by everyone else! they encouraged that in each other! but now... she’s all alone.

hawkeye is now in the business of making digs on frank's behalf, and that's another social avenue closed off. she was becoming friendly with both hawkeye and b.j. — they're the first people she told about her engagement! — but (largely because of how clueless and obnoxious she was in that episode) frank got the swamp rats in the divorce, so to speak.

so she's lonely to the point of distress, but she's so boxed-in by her inflexible belief in power structures and has been terrorizing everyone since we met her, so she can't easily walk that back without... abandoning her hold on those power structures long enough to apologize (which i noticed she doesn't do in this episode, but when in her whole life would she have ever seen an authority figure apologize?). and taking a cheese grater to her ego, because it's not like people are going to immediately embrace her, so she'll deal with rejection while she tries to change.

and what if they make fun of her to her face instead of behind her back — which is worse??

i find it telling that they call her 'hot lips' when she's not around — and i'm sure she knows they do. in the script, the act one tent scene is much longer, and the nurses debrief the O.R. shitshow and then drag margaret for a page and a half before she arrives:

and then on-screen, when mary jo tries to protect gaynor (the one on the top bunk with dark hair):

sorry for the gazillion caps; i swear this is actually the readers' digest version oh my god

having this episode right after "lt. radar o'reilly" is such a brilliant accident, because dear sweet radar just put words to the tragedy and loneliness of military success. radar was jealous of the officers in theory, but is so much happier back among the grunts, because it's better to take disrespect and abuse from above together than to take it from below while isolated and alone.

from season 5 "lt. radar o'reilly":

which is exactly what's happening here!! margaret has wanted this promotion all her life, but she probably didn't picture having it in the middle of nowhere. she has no family waiting at home for her at night, no peers she can relate to, not even a terrible boyfriend in her tent anymore. she barely knows her absent fiancé; would she dare send him an honest letter about her day that isn't all sunshine and idealized presentation?

so with all that, whether or not she deserves it, i love that the nurses offer her an olive branch at the end.

earlier, margaret started the professional reconciliation by finally allying herself with the nurses and protecting them in front of colonel potter. it's long overdue; up until now, we have only seen variations of the opening O.R. scene, where she criticizes them in public instead of rising to their defense. this part of their dynamic is entirely on her to mend — no one else can help her.

and then, later...

the nurses are far more emotionally aware than she is. this is the best possible move they could make — it defuses another potential standoff, and it's their way of thanking margaret for letting baker off the hook. it shouldn't have to be up to them to change the culture and improve their relationship with their supervisor, but they're honestly more capable of it. and it's very sweet how margaret immediately responds.

the nurses are all adult women who value their social connection with each other, and they recognize someone in distress who doesn't really know how to initiate kindness, and took a chance to show her. <3 <3

i hope this improves things for everyone! i think it will! and i definitely hope margaret thinks long and hard about all this, because if she lets it, it could really change her life.

tl;dr: poorly socialized feral cat domesticated by the mortifying ordeal of being known and one (1) cup of terrible army coffee.

[i reblogged the tumblr post where i found the script here.]

i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog coming soon with the rest of it!]

[hemlock-dreams]

What's Spidys relationship like with the other NY bound heros?

Got a bunch of other hero asks so it's time for Ye Olde Lore Dump!

Johnny and H!Spiderman have never gotten along- in either universe.

They don't even really have any real beef with each other, they're just two dudes who grate on each other's nerves for no particular reason- like two guys at a frat party who are just waiting for an excuse to duke it out.

There's just something about Johnny's playboy easy-come-and-go vibe that makes Spidey want to plant a fist in his face. And Johnny thinks Spiderman is a fucking buzzkill.

Black Widow and Spiderman have a good working relationship. He once helped her out of a tight spot in New York and he was fast, smart and discreet about it- so when she's got some ops she needs a second pair of hands for (under the table), she calls him.

Spiderman admires Nat's competence and single-minded focus in getting things done- they all appeal to the hunter in him. (And he's got a massive crush on her.)

They usually do one or two jobs every few months, and meet up for drinks at one of her safehouses. She's also knows his secret identity, because she's just that scary.

Logan and Peter are BFFs. For real. Logan was in town to help with some shit that ended up involving Deadpool and found himself at St. Margaret's.

He and Peter struck up a friendship that ends up with them going camping every couple of months for a week or so.

Logan likes Peter's no-bullshit sincerity and can tell he's had some shit(TM) go down in his life. Peter's easy to talk to and is good at reading the room. And Peter feels like Logan fills in that space Marko left as a friend/mentor/gruff bro figure.

Logan actually picks up when Peter calls. (most others he leaves on read).

Fun fact, he has no idea Peter is Spiderman.

And another fun fact, it's not Johnny Deadpool is jealous of, it's Logan.

Peter has a very complicated relationship with the Avengers.

On one hand, he knows what they do and what they stand for- on the other hand, he's got a real problem with authority figures. He's been invited to the Avengers multiple times, in both realities.

The answer is always blanket N.O. (And, depending on whether it's stark asking, accompanied by a giant middle finger). (Though he's reluctantly agreed to have an avenger's phone in case there are any massive threats they need help with).

As for the members:

Stark gets on his nerves like nothing else. He's not super easy to rile up, but Stark's playboy arrogance (real or not), way he talks down at people, the self-appointed authority, the entitlement, and, of course, the fucking hypocrisy- it makes Spidey go 0 to 'cashmeoutside' immediately.

He and the Captain sometimes get along, but mostly when the Captain isn't in one of his preachy, pontificating moments. They do work very well together in a combat capacity, but they don't have much to talk about.

Thor is fine, but completely outside of Spidey's sphere and also, difficult to work with given his powers.

Bruce and Spidey just don't have much to talk about, and once again, Hulk is way too loud and can't particularly coordinate when they have to team up.

In general, H!Spiderman gets along with the more 'loner' heroes like Murdock, Deadpool, Black Widow, Bucky, Logan, Clint and so on.

(Side note, imagine he said all these shots fired shit to the Avengers and they were like 'no? none of this happened?' because it's not the same reality and Spiderman has to go home and die from the cringe???) (no we'll let him be cool for this)

-----

Once again, thank you so much for the asks!! I really appreciate all the love this AU has gotten and I hope these answers satisfy!!!

[tiredandoptimistic]

One of the things that's deeply important to me about Margaret Houlihan as a character is that even as she grows past the "she's horny but also military" jokes, neither aspect of her personality is actually diminished. Throughout the entire run of the show she displays both traditionally masculine and traditionally feminine traits, and despite the apparent contradiction neither of them actually need to override the other. She wants to get married and be taken care of while also maintaining her career and a dominant role in her relationships, she wears lingere and boxers, she dances and punches, she can do both. I feel like it would have been really easy to make her settle into just one characterization, either supportive and feminine or dominant and masculine, but that never happens. I think that's what makes her such a good and well-rounded female character, because she actually feels like a person with depth who happens to have wants and interests that don't all come in a prepackaged set of tropes.

Additionally, I really like that the two main things she was mocked for in the early seasons (liking the army and having lots of sex) are never negated, they're just given more empathy. Even though the show is largely anti-military, Margaret grew up in the army and very strongly values discipline. That's not a bad thing! The bad thing was when she would attempt to bully other characters who don't live up to her standards, and the show actively addresses those outbursts in a more sympathetic light with episodes like "The Nurses." Same goes for her sexuality; even as the show goes more into her desire for a meaningful romance, she never stops having one-night stands. There's nothing wrong with being a woman who likes sex! She can be hot and enjoy feeling hot and enjoy seeking out purely physical relationships, and that doesn't make her a shallow person; the shallow people are the ones who judge her for her sexuality without knowing anything else about her. I really love the scene in "Are You Now, Margaret?" when the guy accusing her of being a Communist tries to slut shame her to the Swamp rats, and they're all basically like "yes, she enjoys sex and has a lot of it. So fucking what?" that's such a good and mature take to have!

I'm not sure exactly where I'm going here, I just love Margaret and that she gets to exist in this nebulous zone of both masculine and feminine. She can be the manliest one of the main characters and that doesn't make her any less of a woman. Neither of these images are a facade, they're just different facets of who she is; she doesn't need to give one up and settle into being either a major or a mrs.

[maybankswhore]

WHEN YOU KNOW , YOU KNOW.

summary. rafe realizing you’re it for him.

warnings. none.

“ when you know , you know. when you know , you know. it kinda makes me laugh — running down that path. when you’re good it’s gold. ”

Rafe’s head felt heavy. Your hands delicately worked at him. The only sound heard was the humming coming from the wind that whipped the side of his home furiously , demanding for you to hear it.

There were a million things Rafe Cameron could feel at one time. He was a master at anger— stowing away all that sadness , all that pain with flying fist and a mouth that could bite with words. He was a master at manipulation , at cruelty.

Though what he hardly ever felt was guilt. Sadness. Regret.

As he sat with his head low , he replayed the events that were still fresh in his mind. It seemed as though all he saw was red when Ward’s attention turned towards her. Scowling. Mocking.

He couldn’t stand it.

Rafe respected his father. Loved him. Craved his attention and validation. He could take whatever verbal abuse was given to him and swallow it , digest it and shit it back out because he was used to it.

But you— he could never allow that to happen to you , for that to be your future. As soon as the shameful comment left his mouth Rafe knew that he had to correct it despite what the consequences would be. If he didn’t , it’d happen again. Harsher. And after that , again. It’d happen like a replayed message over and over.

You were too good. There was an aura about you that was kind. There was so much about you to uplift and worship like the way your hair fell out of your ponytail when you worked. How it framed your face and helped the apple of your cheeks stand out more. Or when you’d always hold the door open for anyone , no matter who it was. Always giving the kindest smiles to strangers , making friends with just about anyone you came across because that’s how beautiful and inviting your soul was.

“You’re staring.” He heard you murmur.

Finally your head had lifted to look up at him. Your eyelashes coated with mascara that was now fading. Eyes like crystals.

“No.” Rafe shook his head. “Thinking.”

His response made you frown. Ward was always a sore spot for Rafe. He didn’t talk about him much or the weight the relationship held , but you knew. You didn’t need to be told.

“I’m sorry.” Shame overcame you. The whole fight that ensued had been because of you and although you knew Rafe would never place that blame on you— you put it on yourself.

Your apology caused Rafe’s head to snap towards you. Eyes focused on your face as he reached out to grab ahold of your chin gently. Your eyes swirled in the color of his as you made eye contact with him. Somehow the feeling of his ring cladded fingers on your skin still made your cheeks tinge pink.

“Do not apologize for that asshole—” Rafe cursed. “You hear me? Never apologize for something that wasn’t your fault.”

His voice was soft but it was stern. It was genuine and kind— something that was a rarity for him. Something that only you got to experience.

You couldn’t help the sigh escaping from your mouth. You practically melted at his touch , falling into the palm of his hands.

“I don’t want to be the reason you and your dad fight.” You admitted. That knawing guilt back in the pit of your stomach.

You sounded so small. So sweet. It made an unfamiliar ache in Rafe’s chest— one that wasn’t bad , but more so yearning. Yearning to lean forward and kiss you. Wrap his arms around you and suffocate himself with the smell of your perfume.

“I don’t care.” Rafe then decided. “I love you.”

You sucked in a breath that resembled a gasp almost. Those three words that you had held onto. The three words that held so much but yet so little because you had felt it , too.

You weren’t oblivious and you knew that he did. But you hadn’t expected to hear it.

It was everything and nothing all at once. Peaceful and nerve racking at the same time. It meant so much. Left so many things in the future to worry about and mewl over.

You were a lover girl at heart. The way he had spoke it. His lips that were always snarling , biting back the cruel comments to others to hide the fact he was hurting inside had now released the sweetest of sounds , kindest words that squeezed the beating organ in your chest just right.

Bubbling , Rafe brought his hand around your neck to lean you forward. Brushing a kiss to your mouth , resting his forehead on yours.

He knew that you were it for him. And if souls could get tangled with one another and become the same— then his had with you.

[alchemistc]

Tommy had a younger sister. Eight years apart, Tommy knows intimately what it's like to be the main caretaker to a little girl with a dead mom and a shitty dad.

He'll give the Buckley parents props for at least trying, later on down the line. He hasn't spoken to his dad in years. But he sees the look Maddie gets sometimes, the quiet little corner she retreats to when the Saturday Night title fight is Evan v Margaret and Phillip, and he knows that space, the cavernous echo: could I have done more? and this was never supposed to be my job and will I make this worse or better if I intervene? what raw nerves will I expose if I cut open my wrists to fertilize this soil?

They were good at hiding it, for a while. Evan on his okayest behavior, Margaret and Phillip refusing to rise to any bait like the polite suburban family they were - the kind that would move their grieving child across state lines and force her to keep a secret for decades so that she could never move on from it.

(He's been angry for Evan for years, now, but he's been angry for Maddie too, for himself, for the fucked up things you can never quite prepare for the people that gave you life do to you.)

He had a sister.

And she was bright, and beautiful, and full of laughter and love even when Dad couldn't be fucked to sign her permission slips (Tommy can still forge his father's signature, has it down more precisely than even his own) or buy her a new pair of shoes when the soles broke free and they pinched her toes in tight.

He had a sister. She'd been pissed at him, ten years old and landing brutal kicks to his shins the day before he left for training. She'd been pissed at him, sixteen and quietly sullen over the phone when he told her he was staying in LA. She'd been pissed at him, twenty-two and rudderless while he let her crash on his couch for six months in the shoe-box loft he'd called home.

And she'd loved him. God, she'd loved him. Idolized him: learned football and baseball just to be able to talk to him about the few interests he'd had that his father hadn't dismissed out of hand; always at his hip when he slapped together Kraft Mac and Cheese for dinner and snuck her lunch money at the end of the week when the groceries had dwindled.

He hasn't talked to his sister in years, either.

Maddie tucks herself into the space to his right, glances out over the lawn where Tommy has been sneaking the third cigarette he's allowed himself in the last ten years. She shifts her weight, watches the cherry bloom in the low dusk light. "You gonna share?"

Tommy tips his head to look at her. Digs into his chest pocket for the Reds he'd bought two days before the Buckley parents descended on LA for the wedding.

Maddie's an old pro, apparently, fingers comfortably slack as she lifts the offering to her mouth, glances at him for a light.

The lighter is ancient, still has a snippet of his grandfather's favorite poem etched into the sidewall, though it's worn down and hard to read. The metallic clink of opening and closing the lid, spark igniting on butane with a flick of his thumb, had gotten him through some of his worst nights in Afghanistan. Maddie sucks against the filter and the flame catches thin paper and packed tobacco.

She grimaces at the taste, but pulls, waits, blows smoke out her nose.

"You'd think the Buckley Bowl would calm down after the twentieth rematch," she remarks. She's white-knuckling the railing with her free hand.

"Your dad's gonna come out here in ten minutes wanting to shoot the shit about the Pirates July slump like he didn't accidentally imply he'd have preferred me for a son at brunch yesterday."

Maddie sighs. "They're not always like this. I - You've seen them. I just think. I think my first wedding was a brawl and my second didn't happen as planned and Buck hasn't given them any leeway to throw around their opinions and..."

"You don't have to defend them, you know," Tommy says, and - he's not as close with Maddie as he'd like, but they've talked about it, a little. How lucky she is that Evan hadn't ever lost faith in her, how lucky Evan is to have always had her in his corner. How unfair it had all been. "Not to me."

Maddie's lashes are wet, the corners of her eyes glistening. "They shouldn't do this. Every time, they do this."

"Well, the wedding does come with a devilishly handsome new ally against them," he reminds her, and her laugh is a little soggy, but her eyes sparkle as she takes him in. She takes a drag, does a piss poor job of trying to blow smoke rings. Her hand is tiny when it drifts over his forearm and squeezes.

"Well, soldier, I think we're the cavalry."

Tommy butts out his cigarette into the solo cup he'd set out next to the Adirondacks, an hour after he'd bought the pack, holds it out for Maddie to do the same. Her smile is still a little wet, but it's just as lovely as her. Tommy makes a note to hug her extra hard before she leaves at the end of the night.

"Once more unto the breach," Tommy quotes, and slides the patio door open to let her take point.

[littlespoonevan]

Princess Diaries 2 au!

not me already cheating askdjfhsa so i actually have the first chapter of this fic written but i never got any further than that so i never posted it. but!!! that means you are in luck bc i can offer you 3.5k almost immediately lmao

i had a lot of fun rereading this though so hopefully this might give me some motivation to keep going with it 🤞✨

-

“You want to do what?”

Buck’s parents regard him with identical disdainful looks. It’d almost be intimidating if he wasn’t on the receiving end of looks like that from both of them at least once a day.

“Evan, this doesn’t concern you,” his mother sighs.

“Like hell it doesn’t!” he exclaims, looking wildly between his parents and his sister. “Aren’t you forgetting what happened the last time you tried to stick Maddie in an arranged marriage-“

“Evan,” Maddie cuts in, voice gentle but firm enough for Buck to deflate. The smile she offers him is resigned. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright,” he protests weakly.

“Maddie understands the responsibilities she has as our daughter,” his father says, the, you don’t, heavily implied.

“Regardless, she’s far too old to be concerning herself with something as trivial as a love match,” his mother scoffs and Maddie’s mouth tightens into a thin line.

His parents love to bring up that Maddie is in her late thirties and still single. As if the whole reason for that isn’t because the last person they set up her up with tried to kill her – a trauma from which she’s obviously still recovering. Buck’s not about to let it happen again, not on his watch.

“Do you understand what a match like this could do for our family?” Margaret continues. Buck’s never understood his parents’ obsession with titles and social climbing. He would’ve figured still being a viscount and viscountess would be enough for anyone when, y’know, no one gives a shit about the monarchy nowadays.

“Besides, lord knows the Diazes would be indebted to us for even agreeing to it,” Philip adds with a derisive snort.

“I’ve heard Prince Edmundo is very pleasant,” Maddie offers, clearly trying to placate Buck and possibly trying to convince herself also. She’s putting on a brave face but Buck knows she’s nervous after Doug. It’s been years but Maddie still jumps at shadows.

Buck rolls his eyes. He may never have met him before but Buck has heard the scandal surrounding Prince Edmundo. He fell in love with a commoner and tried to marry her but his parents refused the match. Then, four years ago, a child was left at the palace gates with a letter addressed to Prince Edmundo. Apparently before they were forced apart Edmundo had gotten her pregnant and she was no longer in a position to take care of the child. Within hours, the whole world knew.

The Diazes had hired an entire new security team after that.

Buck hasn’t heard much since but he does know the potential marriage King Ramon and Queen Helena had been arranging for Edmundo completely fell through with the reveal of the child and he hasn’t publicly dated anyone since.

So now they’re here: a proposed match between Maddie and Edmundo so Edmundo can ascend the throne in the fall like he’s supposed to.

 “I still don’t like it,” Buck mutters.

“How about a compromise?” Maddie suggests then. “We have a trial period.

“I personally have no desire to get married to a stranger – I would, at least, like to know the man’s favourite food or his hobbies – so why don’t we see if Prince Edmundo would be agreeable to my coming to stay at the palace? Six months. A proper courtship. And, if anything untoward happens or I suspect something isn’t right, the union is ended.”

Their parents share a look, conversing only with their eyes and pinched mouths. Eventually their father looks back to them. “If the Diazes agree, then fine. But Maddie, you are running out of time. If Prince Edmundo doesn’t marry you then you can’t protest whoever else we choose. You’ve put it off long enough.”

Buck wants to protest but he knows this isn’t his fight. He’ll get his turn whenever they decide to turn his attention to him. He watches Maddie take a measured breath and is, once again, in awe of his sister’s ability to keep her composure. He can never do that. He always feels too much.

She looks their parents dead in the eye and nods. “I understand.”

“I’ll write to Helena then,” Margaret sighs.

~

“I don’t like it.”

Eddie just about refrains from rolling his eyes. He suspects the hand he has braced against his temple is just about the only thing preventing his parents from seeing the exasperation on his face.

“It sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Eddie says and his mother clucks her tongue.

“Of course it does, Eddie. You’re just looking for a way to get out of this.”

“No, I’m not,” he exhales. He’s long since given up on trying to get out of this marriage. Any hope he had of marrying for love ended when his parents forced him to kick Shannon to the curb. Christopher arriving on his doorstep a few years ago left that hope buried six feet beneath the ground.

Truthfully, he doesn’t care anymore. His priority is Christopher now. He doesn’t need romantic love; all he needs is a political match with someone who will, at best, be decent to his son or, at worst, ignore Eddie and Christopher except for public appearances.  

He understands Maddie’s reticence though.

“Maddie’s last fiancé tried to murder her, Mother,” Eddie points out. “She doesn’t know me. Of course she’d be hesitant to marry immediately.”

“Philip and Margaret never mentioned this when we were making the arrangements though,” his father cuts in and Eddie does roll his eyes this time.

“They probably hadn’t told her yet,” he says. “Really, I don’t mind.” If anything, six months in which his parents fixate on someone else besides him sounds like a dream come true.

His parents whisper to each other but Eddie doesn’t bother trying to listen in. Instead he glances out the window to where Chimney is training in their new security hire, Ravi. The kid looks fresh out of high school and like he spooks way too easily but Eddie still wishes he was out there with them. Or in the playroom with Carla and Christopher.

Or anywhere that isn’t here.

“Fine,” Helena says, snapping him back into reality. “We’ll allow it. But you are to be on your best behaviour, Eddie. Do you understand how difficult it was for us to find you a match after your indiscretions-“

“You mean my son?”

His mother huffs. “You know we love Christopher. But people talk and you must admit your actions with that woman were completely reckless. Just like always.”

Eddie ducks his head, fists clenching in frustration. “Mom, it’s been nearly ten years since I last even saw Shannon. I was a kid. I was stupid. But I’m not going to apologise for it. Not when it gave me my son.”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Ramon commands but then he folds, just slightly, and rubs at his forehead. “This is a good thing, Edmundo. It’s almost time for you to ascend the throne. It is your turn to honour this family; try to see that.”

Eddie doesn’t think there’s a single word in the English language he hates more than honour. Rolling his shoulders, he lowers his gaze and nods in acquiescence.

~

Eddie spends the rest of the day preparing for the Buckleys’ arrival with Hen, taking the chance to duck away to his room when she gets a phone call. She scowls at him and flaps her hand in a gesture that clearly indicates she doesn’t want him to go anywhere but he pretends not to understand and gets out of reach before she can grab him.

She’s confirmed Maddie’s brother, Evan, will be coming with her as well as Maddie’s personal security guard, Athena Grant. Eddie wasn’t aware the children of viscounts needed their own security detail but he guesses for Maddie it might be an extra precaution.

He’s heard the story, of course. How she and her previous husband had beaten the odds. Arranged marriages were common in their world but one that was also a love match was all but unheard of for people like them.

But Maddie and her fiancé, Doug, had seemed like the real thing. Their lavish wedding had been the talk of royal enthusiasts everywhere – the only people who actually pay attention to high society weddings. Then, a little over a year ago, Maddie was brutally attacked and almost killed.

Her husband had been the culprit.

And if Eddie’s sources are to be believed, Doug had been beating her the entire time they were together. Honestly, Eddie’s surprised she even agreed to the match. Though, if her parents are anything like his own, he doubts she had any say in the matter.

It makes him feel only the tiniest bit better about his own situation.

Losing Shannon is a pain that still aches deep inside of him but at least he’d loved her and she’d loved him back. And if nothing else, she’d given him Christopher, the most precious gift of Eddie’s life.

With him and Maddie…well. He doesn’t think they’ll fall in love but maybe they can be friends. After all, isn’t that what marriage is? Companionship? Eddie’s had love now; he knows what it felt like. Once is more than enough for him. He can be grateful for that – it’s more than most people get in his line of work.

A knock at his open door rouses him from his reverie and he looks up to find his abuela standing at the threshold, a mischievous sort of smile on her face.

“Abuela,” he says warmly.

“I hear we have visitors coming?” she says, crossing into his room and coming to rest at the chaise longue near his writing desk.

“I’m pretty sure Mom’s arranging a car as we speak,” he says, flashing a fake smile.

Abuela hums, regarding him with an appraising look as if she’s trying to read everything he’s not saying in the set of his shoulders or the slant of his eyebrows. She’s always been far too perceptive when it comes to him.

“How are you really feeling, Eddito?” she asks. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Eddie hangs his head, letting out a weary sigh, before coming to sit beside her. “Do I have much of a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” she tuts. “Don’t let your parents make you think you don’t.”

“I always knew what my life would be. This isn’t some cruel twist of fate handed down by the universe. It’s my duty – to my family, to this kingdom.”

“And what about your duty to yourself?” she asks quietly and Eddie looks away.

He takes a moment to rally himself before he can manage to smile at her again. “I’ve gotten everything I want from life already. Christopher is enough. I don’t need anything else.”

Abuela watches him with something that could be pity on anyone else. From her, it’s just an overwhelming sense of empathy and love. She reaches out to pat his cheek and Eddie marvels – as he always does – at the way the casual affection he shares with her and his aunt never comes as easily with his parents.

“Protect yourself, Eddie,” she murmurs, a quiet request. “Please. For me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He swallows, emotion he doesn’t expect clogging his throat. “You had an arranged marriage. So did Mom and Dad. I’ll be fine,” he promises, lifting a hand to cover Abuela’s with his own where it still rests on his cheek.

“I know,” she says, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I was very happy with your abuelo. But you, mi ángel, have always dreamed of love. I want that for you.”

Tears burn behind his eyes but he blinks them away and forces a bright smile onto his face.

“I’m sure the Maddie will be a perfectly good match.”

It sounds like a lie even to himself.

~

Buck yanks at his tie for the sixth time since they got out of the car and Maddie slaps his hand away.

“Relax,” she mutters. “I feel like you’re more nervous than I am.”

He lets his hand drop with a sigh, shooting Athena a winning grin when she casts them both a sidelong glance. She rolls her eyes before turning back to talking to the Diaz chief of staff, Bobby Nash, as they make their way up the steps of the palace. Henrietta Wilson, who is Bobby’s second in command and evidently personally responsible for Prince Edmundo, keeps pace with him and Maddie.

“How are you feeling?” he asks under his breath and Maddie gives him an exasperated smile.

“I’m fine,” she insists, reaching out to latch onto his pinkie finger with her own and giving it a quick squeeze. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I can’t help it,” he mutters.

Up until now Buck has been able to pretend this is all some farcical plan or- or a vacation for him and Maddie! But now they’re here and they’re about to have a formal introduction with the royal family and it suddenly feels real. Maddie’s getting married. Courtship or not, that’s the end goal in all this and she’s not going to be able to say no unless Buck can find a legitimate reason why.

And maybe it’s not Prince Edmundo’s fault and maybe he’s just as helpless in all of this as Maddie is but Buck’s still ready to hate him on sight.

This whole thing feels wrong, out of place. Maddie shouldn’t have to get married again if she doesn’t want to. And she sure as hell shouldn’t have to marry someone just to satisfy their parents’ need for social climbing. It’s not fair. She’s been through enough and he can’t believe their parents are willing to put her through another potential trauma by forcing her into an arranged marriage.

Well, not if Buck has anything to say about it.

He’s older now than he was when she and Doug first met and he’s determined to do whatever it takes to protect her. He even convinced his parents to let him be Maddie and Prince Edmundo’s chaperone during their courtship. (Not in an official capacity but still.)

It’s not much but if it lets him keep Maddie’s safe, it’s worth it.

They reach the main entryway and Buck grinds to an abrupt halt, just stopping short of barrelling straight into Athena. She gives him a look like she knows that’s exactly what he was about to do and he ducks his head, chagrined.

Henrietta clears her throat, clearly attempting to bite back a smirk when Buck looks up at her. “Ready?”

She’s talking to Maddie but Buck still has to tamp down on the urge to say no.

“Of course,” Maddie breathes and the doors open.

One of the other staff members introduces them. Buck hears it just as they step inside.

“Presenting the honourable Madeleine Buckley and her brother, Evan Buckley.”

The royal family are waiting by the staircase for them, their expressions ranging from eager to cordial.

And well. Prince Edmundo is exceedingly handsome, he’ll give him that.

He’s tall, though not quite as tall as Buck, dressed in formal attire with his hair swept back off his face in a way that looks seemingly effortless – unlike the fifteen minutes Buck spends in front of the mirror in the morning trying to make his curls sit just right. His tanned skin and big brown eyes, coupled with the affable smile make him seem…

Charming. He is, quite frankly, the fairy-tale definition of a Prince Charming and Buck feels himself seethe with something that’s not quite jealousy but maybe somewhere adjacent to that.

Prince Edmundo steps forward and, for the first time, Buck notices the little boy behind him. That must be his son, Christopher. He’s got crutches under his arms to keep him steady and one of the Diaz’s staff stands beside him – a kindly looking woman that keeps her hand protectively on his shoulder.

“Miss Buckley,” Prince Edmundo greets, stepping forward to take Maddie’s hand. He presses a faint kiss to the back of it and Buck bites the inside of his cheek so hard he’s pretty sure he draws blood. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“And you as well, your highness,” Maddie replies, offering up a curtsy and a careful smile. And if nothing else, Buck will admit the smile Prince Edmundo offers in response seems more sincere than Doug’s ever was.

He turns to Buck then, extending a hand to shake.

“Your highness,” Buck greets before Prince Edmundo gets a chance to, giving his hand a too-tight shake and finishing it off with a half-assed smile.

Prince Edmundo raises an eyebrow but decorum wins out above anything else. “Mr Buckley,” he returns, his own hand tightening for a moment around Buck’s. If Buck didn’t know any better he’d almost think he was amused.

Queen Helena interrupts then, gliding forward to take Maddie’s hand. “Madeleine. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

Maddie bows again, greeting the queen with a, “Your majesty,” that betrays none of the unease she might be feeling. One thing’s for sure, their parents trained her well.

“Welcome to our home,” King Ramon adds, coming to stand beside his wife and offering Maddie a greeting of his own.

They greet Buck and Athena next, completely pleasant and completely perfunctory. Their focus is on Maddie and that’s abundantly clear. Well, that’s fine with Buck. It’ll make it a hell of a lot easier for him to poke holes in this whole match if no one’s paying attention to him.

“We hope your journey was pleasant?” Helena says, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It was very comfortable,” Maddie assures. “It was so generous of you to send a car.”

“It was our pleasure,” Helena says then and she looks like she means it. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat a bit more but I’m afraid the king and I have a very important meeting we must attend to.”

“The work never stops,” Ramon jokes. “Eddie will show you to your living quarters and we’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

With that, they take their leave and Buck lets out the breath he’s been holding this entire time.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Prince Edmundo does the same. But then he turns to them with a beatific smile and gestures to the staircase.

“You must be tired after your journey. I can show you to your rooms and give you some time to get settled?”

The car ride had only been a couple of hours but Buck’s not gonna complain. Standing on ceremony is exhausting.

“Thank you, Prince Edmundo,” Maddie says because Buck might’ve used up all his manners by now but she clearly hasn’t. “That’s very kind of you.”

For the first time, there’s something almost awkward in the prince’s demeanour. Buck doesn’t understand what it is until he says, “Please, call me Eddie. I don’t see any reason why we should have to stick to formalities if we’re going to be getting to know each other as we are over the next few months.”

Maddie’s shoulders drop where she stands beside him and Buck is begrudgingly impressed Prince Edmundo – Eddie – has managed to put his sister at ease.

“In that case, please call me Maddie,” she says. “I don’t need any titles. And Evan-“

“Goes by Buck,” he cuts in, flashing Eddie a closed-lip smile.

“Buck,” Eddie repeats, as if testing the name out.

Buck hates that he actually likes how it sounds coming from him.

“I’ll remember that,” Eddie says before glancing over his shoulder. “And um, if we’re still making introductions, I’d like you to meet our chaperone.”

He steps aside and Buck watches as the little boy takes three tentative steps forward to stand at his father’s side. Eddie immediately crouches down to his level once he does, wrapping a comforting arm around him and Buck hates his own traitorous heart for melting a little at the sight. “This is my son, Christopher.”

“Hi, Christopher,” Maddie says, voice warm and welcoming, as she holds out a hand for him to shake. She always was amazing with kids. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Christopher takes her hand after a moment’s hesitation and stutters out a soft, “Miss Buckley,” that has Buck biting his lip so he can maintain his composure.

Why did Eddie have to have such a cute kid?

“You don’t have to call me that,” Maddie says with a chuckle. “You can just call me Maddie if you like.”

Christopher nods and lets go of her hand and then Maddie is reaching back for Buck. “This is my brother, Evan.”

Buck huffs at his given name but obediently steps forward, crouching down in the same manner Eddie had to get on Christopher’s level.

“My friends call me Buck,” he tells Christopher with a wink, offering him a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Christopher.”

“Nice to meet you too, Buck,” Christopher says with a bashful smile as he fits his tiny hand in Buck’s to shake it.

Eddie clears his throat and there’s something inscrutable in his expression when Buck looks at him. “How about we show you to your room?”

~

[loulovingho]

The Aftermath

Part 2 of my Meeting the Parents series. Each part can be read individually, but it's better together. Here's part one, you can read part two here or on ao3.

Summary:

After Tommy's dinner with the Buckley's goes surprisingly well, Buck's issues with jealously causes his and Tommy's first big fight.

“So,” Buck began nosily as Tommy drove them toward the loft, “what were you guys talking about?”

“Oh, you know, they were telling me all about baby Evan. How much you loved running around the house naked, stuff like that.”

“Okay, that was only for like six months and I wasn't even two and-”

Tommy laughed, reaching over and taking Buck's hand. “I'm kidding, Evan. I didn't even know that was a thing you did. However, now that I do, I will be using it against you in the future.”

“Ugh,” Buck whined. “Come on, Tommy. What'd you guys talk about?”

“Not a whole lot, really. Your mom asked if I actually went by Thomas, and when I said no she started calling me Tommy. Then, she told me I could call her Margaret.”

“Seriously?” Buck eyed him, unimpressed. “That's it?”

“Actually,” Tommy spared a glance in Evan's direction, “she told me a little more than that.”

“Yeah? Like?”

“Like, that I- I'd probably be calling her mom soon anyway.”

Buck was glad he wasn't the one driving, because if he had been, he probably would have swerved right off the road and into a ditch. “R- Really? She said that?”

“Mhm. That's what she said right before you came out. She was sweet about it, seemed happy. May have been the wine though.”

“No, she... I'm sure she meant it.” Buck turned his head to stare out the window, hoping Tommy didn't notice the fact his hand was getting a little sweaty.

“Hey,” Tommy squeezed his hand, “it's not like she's planning our wedding or anything. She was being nice. Probably wanted to make me feel more comfortable with calling them by their first names.”

Buck managed a quick smile in Tommy's direction before returning his gaze to the highway. “Yeah. Yeah, probably.”

*****

Tommy entered the loft behind Buck, letting the door swing closed behind him. “You okay?” he asked, resting a hand against one of Buck's dining room chairs. “You were quiet most of the way home.”

“I'm fine,” Buck lied, plastering on a smile. “Just tired. Family time can get kinda exhausting for me sometimes.”

"Mm." Tommy set the keys on the table and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I gotta make a reminder to reserve a chopper in December. Phillip and I are gonna go to a Lakers game in Vegas.”

“Y- You made plans with my dad?”

“Mhm. Your parents are coming back in town in a couple months and your dad said he'd get tickets if I flew us there.” Tommy shrugged, “Seemed like a pretty good deal to me.”

“Mm, yeah. Yeah, it is. Sounds fun.”

Tommy looked up at Evan from his phone, noting the expression on his face. “I'm sure he'll get extra tickets if you wanna go? Maybe Howie could come along too. I just figured since basketball isn't really your thing...”

“No, no. I- You're right. I wouldn't wanna go. You two should go together. Bond,” he replied, before muttering out loud enough for Tommy to hear, “Since you'll be calling him dad soon anyway.”

Tommy sighed, putting his phone away. “I knew something was wrong. Come on, Evan, hit me with it. What'd I do?”

Buck headed to the fridge to grab a beer. “You didn't do anything.”

“Obviously, I did. You're clearly pissed at me.”

Buck shrugged. “I just think it's weird, okay? It's weird that my dad wants you to fly him around to basketball games. It's weird you were talking to my mom about marrying me when we don't even live together. Hell, we've never even talked about marriage.”

Tommy shook his head. “God, Evan, it's not like I'm dragging you down the aisle right now.” The words came out harsher than he intended. “And we didn't talk about marriage. It was something she said in passing. Sorry for being happy she thinks we'll last.”

“Forget I said anything, okay?”

“No, I'm not gonna do that. This is a really weird thing for you to be mad at me about.”

Buck slammed the bottle down on the counter so hard it caused a loud clang. “I told you I'm not mad at you!”

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. “So you yell for fun now?”

"I'm not yelling!" he yelled. He took a breath, collecting himself before he continued. "I just don't wanna talk about it right now."

"Well that's too bad, because I do wanna talk about it. You can't get angry with me for things I didn't even say and then not explain why you're mad. That's not how this works."

Leaving the beer behind, Buck headed for the living room. “You wouldn't understand,” he said, waving Tommy off.

“Yeah, that's what I'm trying to do.” Tommy followed behind him until Buck grumpily turned back to him. “Gotta be honest, did not think you'd hate the fact that I got along with your parents. You were the one making a presentation on how to interact with them. Would you have preferred if I acted like an ass? Stepped on their toes? Made them uncomfortable?”

“I don't know, maybe.”

“You cannot be serious.”

"Well, it would've been better than you sucking up to them. Basically kissing the ground they walk on."

"Maybe you're right. We shouldn't be having this conversation right now." Now it was Tommy's turn to walk away and Buck's turn to follow. They made it to the dining room table before Tommy swirled back around to him. “You know, you are acting like such a child, Evan. Maybe I should call Howie and set up a playdate for you and Jee.”

“They're just trying to replace Daniel with you!” The accusation escaped him before his brain caught up with his mouth. The way Tommy stared in shock should have been enough to stop him, but it didn't. “That's all this is, so, you know, enjoy it while it lasts! As soon as they realize you're not what they imagined him to be, you'll be left behind.”

He'd gone too far. He'd probably gone too far a few minutes ago, if he were being honest, but now he'd definitely gone too far.

Tommy's face fell. Buck wasn't sure he'd ever seen him so visibly shaken before. “Wow. Okay. Uh, I don't... I think I'm gonna go home for tonight, Evan.” He picked his keys up from the table and headed for the door.

Half of Buck wanted to beg for him to stay. The other half wanted to yell and tell him that's fine, he wanted to be alone anyway!

He settled on not saying anything at all.

He kept his mouth sealed shut as Tommy left. He didn't even slam the door behind him. Buck wished he would have.

*****

It took three series of knocks before Tommy answered the door. He was wearing a sleeveless tank and a pair of boxers, his hair wildly free of product. There were dark circles under his eyes as he stared at Buck indignantly. “It's three in the morning.”

“I know.”

“Why are you here at three in the morning?”

“Can I come in?”

There was a pause, then Tommy moved out of the way so Buck could come inside. Tommy closed the door behind him, but stayed in the entryway. If this was going to turn into round two, he wasn't sure how long Evan would be welcome to stay. “Did you forget you have a key?” he asked.

“Yeah, sneak into the forty year old army vets house in the middle of the night,” Buck answered with a nervous smile. “I'd give you a heart attack... or get shot one.” He was trying to lighten the mood, but Tommy couldn't quite find the humor in the moment.

“Why are you here?” he reiterated.

Buck sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Couldn't sleep,” he admitted. “Could... Were you asleep?”

Tommy knew what the question really meant. Were you able to get rest after what happened earlier? Were you able to let this go?

“No, I wasn't asleep.”

“Oh, okay, um. Good. I mean, not good. But, good that I didn't wake you, I guess. Even though-”

“Evan, where's this going?”

“Can we,” Buck motioned toward the living room. “Can we sit? Talk for a minute?”

“Sure,” Tommy breathed out. “Of course.”

They moved to the living room, sitting stiffly on opposite ends of the sofa. There was an awkward minute of silence before Buck turned toward Tommy and began to ramble, “I'm sorry I acted like an idiot. I didn't mean the things I said, I swear. I think I got so jealous that you got along so easily with my parents that it made me feel, I don't know, insecure. Then I took it out on you, which wasn't fair. I was such a dick after a perfect night-”

“Evan.”

“-and you didn't deserve that. I know I screwed up. I- I know I did. I practically maimed you with my words the same way I maimed Eddie when I was jealous of him, and I-”

“Evan!”

Buck stopped. He looked up to see Tommy had turned toward him, watching him closely.

“What?” he asked.

“I forgive you.”

If things weren't so serious, Tommy might've laughed at the shocked expression on Evan's face. “Yo- You do?”

Tommy nodded. “I do.” He let out a sigh, scooting closer to Evan, “And I'm sorry, too. I just- I didn't think. I wanted to make a good impression, and I was so happy everything went well. I didn't think about what it would all mean to you. I'm sorry.”

“Oh God,” Buck dropped his head down. “I may actually be the worst person in the world. Tommy, I- I'm not mad they like you.”

“Evan.”

“No, really. I promise, I'm not mad. I'm,” he let out a laugh, “I'm thrilled. They have never really shown an interest in my life, not until the last few years. Even then, I never thought to introduce anyone to them. The fact they get along with you, it... it's incredible. See, it- like I said before, it's my jealousy. It's the fact it doesn't come that easily for me. I acted stupid, and immature, but I'm not mad at you. I'm not even mad at them. I'm just... sad, that it's not that way with me. And I took it out on you. You have no reason to be sorry. I'm sorry.”

“You told me about all the crap they put you through growing up, and I hate that they did that. It's not fair to you or Maddie. But you said they were trying to be better,” Tommy explained, “and they seemed so nice tonight. They liked me, or at least I think they did, and I was happy. It felt good, and I got caught up in that.”

“They did like you,” Buck assured him. “They do like you. A lot. And that's a good thing. I swear to you, Tommy, it's me. It was so easy for you to fit right in. I mean, I'm their kid and they had to go to therapy with me just to accept that. It... I don't know, seeing you guys getting along, I- it was a me problem, not you. Not them.” He moved himself closer to Tommy now, so they were both nearly in the center of the couch.

“I don't have to go with your dad,” Tommy said. “Really, I don't mind. And I know I probably freaked you out with the stuff your mom said, but I really think she was trying to be polite-”

“Tommy, no, I-” he reached out for Tommy's hands, who folded them into Evan's easily, “I want you to go with my dad. I want you guys to get along and have a good time. And the stuff my mom said, it... it didn't scare me.” He looked away, blushing a bit. “I like the thought of that. A lot.”

Tommy squeezed Buck's hand to get his attention back, a crinkly smile growing on his face. “Oh yeah?”

Buck nodded, grinning. “Yeah.”

They both leaned in at the same time, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss.

“You tired?” Tommy asked when he pulled back just enough to speak. “We can go to bed.”

Buck brought his hands up until they were curled around the nape of his neck. “Bed sounds nice.” He kissed him again, less gentle this time. He licked across Tommy's lips with his tongue until Tommy, without a seconds hesitation, opened his mouth to let him in. Tommy rested his hands on Buck's waist, gripping at his shirt.

“You're not tired, are you?” Tommy mumbled between kisses.

“Nope.” Buck ran his hands down Tommy's shoulders, over his chest, letting his nails drag over Tommy's clothed nipples. “You know, this is our first big fight,” he informed Tommy, lifting his shirt just enough to get his hands under the hem, feeling how Tommy sucked in a breath at something so simple as Evan touching his skin.

Tommy moaned, dropping his head to Buck's shoulder. “Make-up sex?”

Buck nodded. "Make-up sex," he agreed, taking Tommy's hand and they stood to head for the bedroom.

[veturiusofserra]

when you know, you know | s. r.

𑁤 synopsis: in an interview she opens up about how easy it is to be loved by Spencer, sharing the story of how they met and how his love inspired her music.

𑁤 pairing: spencer reid x singer!reader

𑁤 words: 1.090

𑁤 disclaimer: This was 100% inspired by something my bf said a while ago, and I love the song. I hope you will enjoy it too <3

“As we reach the close of our conversation, one thing’s bugging me. In your song “Margaret,” there’s this line ‘when you know, you know.’ Like, how do you just know someone’s the one? I’ve been through my share of relationships, yet I haven’t experienced that kind of thing you sing about. In your song, it’s all so clear-cut, like you can predict the future. It reminds me of a kid believing in the tooth fairy – sweet idea, maybe not quite real. But that’s probably what makes the song so good. It talks about this perfect love where everything just clicks, and all your worries disappear. Maybe that’s what I’m still looking for, or maybe it’s just for some lucky people. Either way, your song paints such a strong picture of love that it makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a ‘Margaret’ of my own.”

“It’s funny, right? The answer everyone gives is so simple: “you’ll just know.” Like love hits you like a lightning bolt, destiny calls, happily ever after guaranteed. But maybe that’s the problem. We get this picture-perfect idea of love from movies and books, and then we miss the real thing when it’s right under our noses. We set these high expectations, these checklists of what “the one” should be like. And if someone doesn’t tick every box, we write them off. It’s like searching for a flawless diamond, forgetting that even the most beautiful gems have tiny imperfections. Because guess what? We all mess up. You make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone does. Maybe that’s what makes a real connection so special – accepting someone, flaws and all. Speaking of which, there’s this story I wanted to share with you.”

“We're all ears!”, the interviewer and the crew smile with waiting faces.  

“For the longest time, I believed I was destined to give love, but never receive it.  Maybe because... well, let’s be honest, I can be a bit self-absorbed, lost in my own head and neglecting others. But even with the no love life mantra, there was always this yearning for a family, a deep desire for children I could call my own. The ‘what ifs’ terrified me, though. Would I be a good parent? Would they be happy? Could I provide for them? Eventually, I resigned myself to a life of music, making people happy through my art, having a few friends, maybe a tragically young death – you know, the artist’s curse. 

Then, I found him. We both know Penny, but run in different circles. He’s in law, I’m an artist – about as different as you get, except for maybe a shared love of fancy vocabulary. We met at Penny’s birthday party, and while he claims it was love at first sight for him, I just thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But that was it. He was too shy to introduce himself, and I was sworn off men at the time. Funny how fate works, right?  We never crossed paths before, but after that night, it seemed like everywhere I turned, there he was. That’s when I decided to take a chance, and boy, I was so scared!

All those stories about soulmates and butterflies? They weren’t for me. Anxiety had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Butterflies just meant another battle brewing in my head. What I craved was peace, a steady hand to anchor me until I was ready to set sail. So, I built a friendship with him. We shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities. He turned out to be a brilliant mind, a walking encyclopedia with an IQ of 187. Yet, he never made me feel inferior. He found humor in my quirks, and we seemed to complement each other perfectly. The more time we spent together, the more his words resonated: “We were designed for one another.”

And then, it hit me. Love. Deep, unexpected, and all-encompassing. It felt effortless, a perfect fit. But fear gnawed at me. It was all so new, so unfamiliar. Just as I was drowning in uncertainty, Penny, our mutual friend, reached out. She had something to show me – “Margaret.”

“She wrote it?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, she started it,” I clarify. “Inspired by him, she penned the first lines that night after the birthday party. She couldn't shake the image of his longing gaze, a sight she’d never witnessed before. It felt sacred, a raw glimpse into his heart. The initial draft, rough around the edges, went something like this: ‘just writing for a friend. My shirt's inside out, and penmanship is messy. He met her on the rooftop, and she wore white. He said, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ He saw flashes of the future.” A gentle smile graces your lips. 

“Seriously, that’s adorable.”

I nod, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Right? Her words sparked inspiration within me. I wrote the rest, my mind consumed by-”

“By him.” she prompted, leaning in.

“He made love feel simple. Loving me was effortless for him, a stark contrast to the struggle I’d always imagined. It was like breathing, a natural and easy rhythm. He helped me discover the light that had been hiding within me all along.”

“There’s a saying,” the interviewer began, “to be loved is to be changed.”

I smiled. “I prefer a different one: to be loved is to be known. Because maybe, just maybe, he saw the affection within me all along, the part I couldn’t quite see myself.”

“You are indeed full of affection,” she said warmly. “Thank you for sharing this story with us.”

“Thank you for listening. I know it's a cliché, but there truly is someone out there for everyone. You never know what tomorrow holds, but deep down, a tiny spark ignites within us, guiding us towards that love. Trust it.”

“That wraps it up for our interview with the lovely Y/n! But before we say goodbye, there's one more message for her. Can we play it, Jonah?” A nod later, the studio fills with the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey there, love. Just wanted to say congratulations on the album! You poured your heart and soul into it, and I’m incredibly proud. But hey, can you come home soon? Two days feels like an eternity without you. Miss my other half. Love you tons, sweetheart. And everyone listening, stream Ocean Boulevard! Dex says hi to mom, too.” A meow erupts in the background, eliciting a laugh from you and the studio crew.

thoughts? or prayers idk

[trialbywombaat]

Pluto

“One more chapter, Papa?” Ivy asks. 

Tommy closes the book and places it on her bedside table. “We already did one more chapter, remember?” he reminds her gently. 

He knew the question had been coming, and his answer is the same every time. In the past, getting Ivy to move on would have been a bigger struggle. But they've been working on their nighttime routine for a while now, and she’s getting the hang of it. Her question, and Tommy’s answer, are both part of that routine, and he knows she finds some kind of comfort in it.

He reaches down to switch on the night-light. It’s one of those moon ones Evan saw online and had insisted they buy for her, along with those glow-in-the-dark star stickers that he’d always wanted as a kid. There are stickers everywhere in Ivy’s room, actually - and not just the nice wall decals you can find on Etsy, but the cheap shitty stickers she brings home from school or begs for every time they go to Target. There’s fairies on her bed frame that Tommy knows he’ll never be able to remove, and sticky residue all over her desk from the fire truck stickers that she’d picked off one by one instead of doing her homework. Tommy and Evan hadn’t grown up in the kind of households where kids were able to put stickers on the walls, or play with paint or glitter, or make mud pies, and every time Margaret’s eyes fall on one of Ivy’s marker covered dresses and she smiles one of her cool, polite smiles, Tommy feels a tiny flash of victory that he doesn’t bother to hide. 

“What are we gonna dream about, tonight?” he asks, taking Ivy’s hands in his own. Maddie taught them this routine years ago, when they were first trying to get Ivy to sleep in a ‘big girl bed’, and it’s managed to stick.

“Unicorns,” Ivy answers quickly. It’s always unicorns, and has been for months. Tommy’s quite sure that unicorns must be in every dream she ever has, because they are ubiquitous in all of their lives now. She has a unicorn backpack with a unicorn pencil case and a unicorn lunch box, and no less than seven stuffed unicorn toys in bed with her at this very moment, tucked under the unicorn comforter where she is lying, wearing unicorn pyjamas. Even Tommy dreams of unicorns - just last night, he had to ride a unicorn into a wildfire while carrying buckets of water in both hands.

But he still closes her hand into a fist and squeezes it tight before kissing it. “Unicorn dreams it is.” He pulls her in close for a hug. “I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you all the way to Pluto,” she says back to him, because Oliver Jeffers taught her that the moon is a one year drive away and Pluto is an eleven thousand year drive away, and Ivy is both decent at maths and eager to get the last word. 

He kisses her softly on the forehead then pulls back, ready to get up and turn off the light. But Ivy tugs on his sleeve, so he crouches down next to the bed.

“What is it, baby?” he asks her.

“Do you still love Daddy to the moon and back?” she asks, her voice small.

Tommy suppresses a sigh. God, kids are perceptive. 

“I still love your Daddy all the way to Pluto,” he promises, trying to reassure her. 

“Why are you fighting, then?” she asks. 

Tommy strokes Ivy’s hair. “Sometimes people who love each other still fight sometimes,” he explains. “Like when Bandit and Chilli built the swingy chair.”

Ivy’s face is screwed up in concentration. “And then they were happy again?”

“That’s right,” Tommy says. 

She doesn’t look mollified yet, though. “Will you ever stop loving each other? Like Sarah’s mum and dad?”

“I don’t think so,” Tommy says truthfully. “There’s too many things I love about him.”

“Like how he always gets the voices right?”

Tommy laughs. Evan is very good at reading stories. It’s always seemed to come naturally to him, whereas Tommy never manages to get the voices quite right.  “Yeah, like that,” he agrees. “And how he makes me laugh all the time, and how he knows so many different things” -  he hears Ivy’s door creak slightly, and feels two sets of eyes on him now, both watching him intently - “and how he cares so much about helping other people, and how he never gives up.”

He looks up to see Evan smiling softly at him.

Tommy stands up. “It’s time to sleep, now, Ives,” he says, and this time she doesn’t protest. 

“Night Papa,” she yawns sleepily, curling in on herself and hugging one of her many toy unicorns.

Tommy turns out the light as he exits the room, then grabs Evan’s hand and pulls him silently towards their own bedroom. 

“Evan,” he says as soon as they enter the room, his voice quiet so that Ivy shouldn’t be able to hear them.

Evan cuts him off before he can say anything. “I’m so sorry, Tommy. I really am.”

He’s said that so many times the past few hours, ever since Tommy met him at the hospital that afternoon, and suddenly Tommy feels so guilty for making him feel like he has to say it.

Tommy pulls him closer, puts a hand on the small of his back and another on his shoulder, as though they’re going to dance instead of talk. “I know, love.”

“You- you know I love you and Ivy more than anything; that I always want to come home to you.” His right hand is clenched tightly, and Tommy grabs it and unfurls it gently, running a thumb over the fingernail marks Evan has unwittingly left there. 

“Evan,” Tommy says again, and finally Evan stops and looks at him. “You don’t have to apologise. I’m sorry I made you feel like you do. This is my fault, not yours.”

“No, but I - I keep doing this dangerous shit, and-”

Tommy doesn’t like to cut Evan off. But he doesn’t like watching him beat himself up either, so the decision isn’t hard.

“You can’t help it,” he says firmly. Because he’s figured it out.

It was an old habit he’d fallen into, a retread of the arguments they’d had early on in their relationship, when Evan just couldn’t seem to get it into his head how important he was to Tommy. How he didn’t get to sacrifice himself anymore, because he had someone who needed him, who was waiting for him at home.

Instinctively, when Tommy had gotten Bobby’s call today, he’d assumed that it was the same thing, that Evan had forgotten about it again, and to be honest, it had hurt. That they still weren’t enough. 

But he’d realised his mistake when he was getting Ivy ready for bed that night. When she’d run from the bathroom to her bedroom after he’d clearly told her not to, and had slipped to the ground because her socks hadn’t had enough grip. 

“It’s about performance, not knowledge,” Ivy’s occupational therapist had explained to Tommy and Evan once, shortly after they'd found out that she has ADHD. “She knows exactly what she’s meant to do, and if she could do it, she would.” It was why explaining the rules to Ivy has never really worked, because she already knows them all. She knows she isn’t meant to call out in class, or snatch toys away from other children, or go to the bathroom without asking the teacher - she just doesn’t have the impulse control to stop herself.

And Evan knows that he needs to come home to Tommy and Ivy. If he could stop himself from going ‘full-Buck’, he would.

Which is why it’s Tommy who should be apologising. 

He moves his thumb in little circles against Evan’s shoulder, knowing that Evan finds the movement soothing. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just how your brain works.”

Evan’s breath catches a little, and Tommy doesn’t know if it's relief or something else until he speaks. “I don’t know how to stop it,” he says.

Tommy brings him close, squeezing him tighter. “You don’t have to, love,” he says, heart aching at the words. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” He leans back again, and places his fingers under Evan’s chin. “I love your brain.”

Evan leans forward, and rests his head against Tommy’s shoulder. “Just my brain?” he asks.

Tommy pretends to consider it. “I guess your spleen is pretty great, too.”

Something for @bucktommypositivityweek. I know it's a day late now, but this one is for Day 1 - What they both love about each other.

[weediee]

All so oblivious

HUMAN ALASTOR X FEM WIFE!READER (She/Her pronouns)

Summary: Y/N has a neighbourhood friend over, Margaret. A regular talk with some tea and cakes quickly turned into a much more sinister and bruting talk.

E/N: Thank you all for the support in the last one, really, I am so grateful. I'm very glad you all enjoy my writing - I will continue to keep everyone updated! ❤️

Trigger warnings: This story contains talk of murder, blood, and abuse and is not suitable for young audiences. Please let me know if I missed anything!

"You know, it really is unfortunate. So many young people, innocent people, suddenly going missing." Margaret said solemnly. I was standing in the kitchen, cutting an apple Danish I had made for Margaret and as I hummed quietly in response, not paying much mind to her theatrics.

"I mean, what person could go and do such heinous things to such lovely people with long lives ahead of them." She pinched the space between her brows.

I paused, the knife in my hand scraping gently across the board as it came to a halt. "It's surprising you think all these people are innocent, Marg. We really don't know." I mumbled softly.

"Innocent or not, nobody deserves to die. Especially all those young boys." Marg scoffed at my response. She had always been this way, devils advocate. It was one of the few reasons that over the years I'd begun growing a dislike for Margaret. She was too sympathetic for the wrong people.

"Those 'young boys' with 'promising futures' were nothing but abusers! Every last one of them." I spat aggressively before composing myself. "Each of them had no right wandering our streets."

Margaret's voice quickly halted, one of the rare occasions she kept quiet.

"You're disgusting." She growled, I could hear her glass being placed on my table and the sound of the wooden floors creaked as she stood up to her feet.

"Why are you so against these people being alive. It's almost as if you have something to do with this all you know?" She added onto her statement.

"Me? knowing something you all don't?" I let go of the knife, turning to face her as I leaned against the kitchen countertop. "Margaret you're being silly. You must really go home, you're probably having post partum delusions again-" I was about to step forward before she stopped me.

"Don't come near me! You had something to do with this didn't you. I've been trying to tell everybody you and Alastor are too perfect for your own good, nobody listens to me. You're sick." She yelled.

"I'm not sick, Margaret. You are the one spitting nonsense!" I screamed back, my voice raising ever so slightly above hers. "How dare you come into my home and accuse me of these crimes." I shook my head in disappointment.

I moved my hand behind me, grabbing the knife slowly. "I will hand it to you though, you are correct." I shrugged.

"W-what?" She asked softly, hands dropping to her sides and clenching into fists.

"I know, Marg. It's a shame... I really did like you, but you've always been so loud mouthed. So nosy, always in somebody else's business when it's not yours to be concerned about. Me and Al can't have that. We have a reputation to uphold." I smiled softly.

"I mean, what would the papers say if they found out?" I laughed softly.

"You're a psychotic bitch! You know that." She screamed.

I hummed, nodding my head. I glared Marg up and down, tears could be seen falling from her eyes as they formed over a glossy shine.

"Before you die, I'm going to tear that tongue out of your mouth so you never speak about me or my husband again." My smile quickly dropped into a flat line.

I was as she quickly attempted to scramble to the front door, which was unsuccessful as she tripped on the rug. I quickly ran over, flipping her in her back to look up at me.

I smiled, pulling the knife atop my head with my hands before plunging it into her chest repeatedly. Once, twice, a fourth time, a fifth, as far as twenty before I stopped counting. There Margaret laid, in a pool of what looked like melted rubies. I stood up, leaving her in her final resting spot as I carried on with my day.

Cutting the Danish, doing the laundry, pouring Alastor his whiskey for when he got home. He could deal with Margaret when he arrived, but the whole time I finished up my jobs - the only thing on my mind was "They're all so oblivious."

E/N: How do we like this one? Yay or nay? Feel free to be honest (and feel free to send ideas)

Reminder to have a dandy day everyone!

- Weedie 🌹

[storiesforallfandoms]

a perfect world ~ jack chambers;don't worry darling

word count: 2122

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their picture perfect world is not as perfect as it seems

pairing: jack chambers x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, kind of an au where jack isn't an incel but he still does the bad thing of taking the reader into the simulation, jack tries to gaslight the reader, kind of a dark fic if you think about it but not super dark

masterlist (one, two, three)

Jack knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the house. It was the quiet that tipped him off. It was never quiet. Usually the place was filled with music. Either the soft lull of the radio, or his wife's humming, or both.

This time, though, the house was eerily quiet.

Jack came around the corner to find his wife stood at the kitchen counter. She had a glass of wine in her hand, with the bottle next to her on the counter. She was staring off into space as she took a sip of her wine, her movements almost robotic.

"(Y/N)?" Jack said, cautiously. "Love, are you alright?"

(Y/N) didn't respond at first. She took a long sip before slowly placing the glass down. Jack's worry was growing further. Not only worry for his wife, but worry for himself. If something was seriously wrong with her, then it would result in demotion, or worse, from Frank.

Finally, (Y/N) turned to face him. Her face was so calm that it scared Jack. When she spoke, her voice was also eerily calm.

"I know about Victory."

Jack tried to laugh off the comment. "My job? Of course you know about it, love."

"No," (Y/N) said, shaking her head. "I know what Victory is. I know why we're here, Jack. And what you did to me."

Jack's blood ran cold.

In his fear and anxiety, Jack started laughing again. (Y/N)'s face was still blank as she looked at him.

"I don't know what you're on about," Jack said. "I didn't do anything to you, besides put a ring on your finger."

(Y/N) chuckled, but there was no true humor behind it. "Well, yes, you did actually do that. But you didn't do it the way we've been telling the story, did you?"

Jack started to walk away. He was trying to seem nonchalant, but the panic was starting to overwhelm him. He didn't want (Y/N) to see his panic, otherwise he wouldn't be able to convince her that she was wrong.

He stopped when (Y/N) called after him, "How long do you intend to keep me in this simulation?"

Jack spun around before he could stop himself. "You are crazy! Do you hear yourself? You're talking crazy!"

Emotion was finally showing on (Y/N)'s face. It quickly went from shock to anger. "You're going to call me crazy? When you're the one who has me hooked up to a machine and making me play happy little housewife?!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

Jack couldn't help but quickly look around in panic. There was no way Frank was listening in on their private conversations, right? This wouldn't get back to him, would it? He needed to stop (Y/N) before things got too loud or somehow their neighbors noticed the arguing.

He tried a more calm approach, saying, "Love, I don't know where you got this idea. We are not in a simulation, you are not hooked up to machines. I'm sorry I called you crazy, but you have to understand that is how everyone will react when they hear you saying this."

(Y/N) pulled away as Jack tried to reach for her. "I got this idea when I went to the Victory headquarters."

Jack backed away from her. No, she couldn't have been to the Headquarters. None of the wives even knew where the Headquarters was, and they wouldn't be able to even go out that far.

Except for Margaret, but Ted wore he had her under control.

They locked eyes, silently daring the other to make a move. Jack had lost any sense of confidence he had mustered seconds ago. He felt like everything was about to slip from his fingers. Everything he worked so hard to build for him and (Y/N), all gone in the seconds it took for her to utter that sentence. Meanwhile, (Y/N) had gone back to looking emotionless. She didn't even realize how much she was about to lose.

When Jack didn't break the silence, (Y/N) took it as her opportunity to explain, "I was on the trolley and it broke down. The driver told me it would take some time for it to be fixed, so I offered to just walk back to town. But, oddly, the driver started trying to convince me not to get off. He was very adamant about staying on the trolley. I was a little put off by how insistent he was on it, but I thought he was just worried for my safety."

Jack felt himself unconsciously clenching his fists. The damn trolley driver. Couldn't he have been a little more subtle?

"I did stay on for a while," she continued. "But it was just the two of us, and I knew I'd get home quicker if I just walked. So I did. When the driver wasn't paying much attention, I got off and started walking. But we were in the desert, and none of us wives have ever been out that far, so I was a bit lost. I found his building I've never seen or heard of before. I knew I shouldn't go to it, but...my curiosity got the better of me."

Jack felt as though he was going to start crying. Even though he already knew the answer, he asked, "What did you see?"

"Nothing," (Y/N) responded. "Not at first. Not until I touched the building. Then I saw the truth. All of it."

Jack winced.

That's it. There's no denying her when she saw the building.

The truth was that (Y/N) was right: she was hooked up to a machine that was putting her in a simulated perfect 50s town.

In the real world, Jack and (Y/N) were really married. They fell in love young and married right after they graduated university. Everything was great, until Jack lost his job. His company was on a fast downwards spiral that resulted in a number of employees getting terminated, and Jack was one of the unfortunate ones. (Y/N) was still trying to get a job within her field of study, so she was working a minimum wage retail job. While Jack was unemployed, (Y/N) had to carry the financial burdens, and that made Jack feel awful and useless.

Then he discovered Frank and Victory.

Frank promised a perfect world and a perfect life. All Jack needed to do was work for eight hours a day, as well as all the other men within their town, for Frank; for Victory. It was a small price to pay for him and (Y/N) to live their dream life.

And now all of that work was ruined. Frank would take care of (Y/N) for finding out, whatever that meant, and Jack would be exiled from Victory.

He had to sit down.

He lowered himself into a chair at their dining table. (Y/N) was still watching him. He wished she would just do whatever she planned to do; scream, break things, go right to Frank and tell him she knew about everything. Whatever the plan, he just wanted her to get it over with. The unknown silence was killing him.

"Why?" she finally asked. "Why did you do this?"

"For us," Jack said. "So we could live a better life."

"What was wrong with our life before?"

Jack scoffed. "Seriously? (Y/N), we were struggling. I was unemployed, you were working a shitty job. You were pulling all the financial weight, and I hate that all of that was on your shoulders."

"So instead of talking to me about your feelings, you hooked me up to a machine and put me into a simulation without my consent?"

Jack hung his head. There was no way to paint that part in a good light. He hadn't brought up Victory because he was afraid (Y/N) would reject the idea, and he couldn't take their real life for much longer.

"I just wanted to take care of you," Jack said, his voice small. "You were doing it for so long, and you never complained even though I know it was tough. I didn't want you to do it anymore, and Frank offered the perfect life for us."

He heard (Y/N)'s heels clicking against the tiled kitchen floor as she approached the table. He couldn't look up at her as she leaned on the table, basically towering over him.

"What happens if Frank finds out that I know?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "I don't completely know. He just says he takes care of it."

"Did he take care of Margaret?"

He didn't ask her how she knew that Margaret had known the truth as well. It was probably pretty obvious now that she knew. Instead, he just nodded. "And he told Ted that if he didn't get Margaret under control, then he'd be fired from Victory."

"So, if Frank finds out, this is all over for both of us?"

He nodded again. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this. She'd go tell Frank that she knew the truth about Victory, even though it would be a risk for her to do so. But the risk would be worth it if it meant Jack was fired from Victory, sent back to the reality that he was trying to desperately to save them from. Once they were back in their own reality, (Y/N) would no doubt divorce him as well. He'd deserve it, of course.

"Then I'll just have to get really good at keeping a secret."

Jack's head shot up quickly to look at (Y/N). There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and there was something in her eyes as she looked at Jack.

"What do you mean?" he asked, dumbly.

"I mean, what you did was very fucked up. Like, extremely fucked up. Next time you're making big decisions like, I don't know, putting us in a fucking simulation, maybe talk to me about it first. But, with that being said...I'd be lying if I said I preferred our real life over this one."

Jack was stunned. This was not what he was expecting at all.

(Y/N) gestured for Jack to push his chair back. When given enough room, she sat herself on his lap and put her arms around his neck.

"We can't stay here forever," she told him. "We have real bodies that need to be taken care of, and families and people that will worry if we just disappear. But, it's hard to give up on this life. It's so...perfect."

"So what are you saying?" Jack asked.

"I'm saying we put a cap on how long we stay here. Give it...I don't know, another year. We let ourselves be happy, be worry free. Then, however we have to, we get out of here and we get to working on making our reality just as perfect as the simulation is."

"You'll have to go back to work."

She nodded. "I know. But I'm not opposed to working. I did get a whole degree so I could work my dream job, after all."

Jack put his arms around her. He wanted to pull her in close and not ever let her go, but he couldn't just yet. "Why?"

She furrowed her brows. "Why what?"

"Why aren't you more mad? Why aren't you going to tell Frank so that I get in trouble? Why do you want to stay here...stay with me?"

(Y/N) gave him a look like she thought he was being incredibly stupid before cupping his cheeks. "Because I love you, you idiot. And, like I said, the way you went about doing this was very stupid and wrong, but I know you did it because you love me, too. As long as you can agree with my deal, I don't see any reason to be mad and want to leave you."

Jack finally allowed himself to kiss her. It caught her off guard, which made her giggle against his lips. Every memory he had with her, both in the real world and in their simulation, came rushing back to him.

"I agree," he said. "I'll do whatever you want, I promise."

"Right now, I think I want to make love to my husband in our super cool retro bedroom," she told him. "Just to make sure I don't forget how to do that when we get back to the real world."

Jack smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry love. I won't let you forget."

[larissasgirl]

Can I request some HEAVY fluff with regina where reader have a terrible period (cramps, heavy flow, fatigue, always hungry, and just constant sobbing. Yes I'm on my period and I hate everything (except your writing)) (i love your writing)

You can always call me

Helllooo! Better late than never👉👈 Once again, sorry for the mistakes. As my friend would say, I'm just a girl😂 Hope you like it🥺

Saying you were in a bad mood was an understatement. Truth to be told, you weren’t angry per say, but rather in pain. In so much pain that it would knock the wind out of your lungs as you waited for the waves to pass. You had always been truly lucky in that department, as you could go months without feeling any discomfort. But when it happened, when it would be the exception, it would make up for the ones that were pain free. It made it almost impossible for you to function normally. 

You had woken up after your girlfriend, as you reached next to you for Regina, only to find her side of the bed cold and empty. You knew she was under a lot of pressure lately, always going to work before you were even up and coming back at crazy hours of the night. You sighed as you started feeling the familiar wave of pain slowly creeping its way back to you when you got up and got dressed, only for it to grow in intensity as the day progressed. You had contemplated calling in sick, but you knew how hard it was to find a substitute at the last minute, and you truly didn’t have the energy to make up a lesson plan for the day to give it to them. You were working with Mary Margaret at the elementary school, which happened to be the perfect job for you. Regina would often roll her eyes and call you a child, but you could always see through her fake annoyance whenever she said it. She adored you. She adored the way you would often come home with messy braids done by your students during recess and your arms full of drawings, with I love you’s written in messy handwritings and mistakes, which she knew made your heart a little lighter. She loved how happy the tiny humans made you, how you’d often randomly get an idea of an activity during dinner and shared it with her excitedly, wanting her opinion on it. She loved the way you cared so much, not only for them, but for everyone around you. You were a breath of fresh air when she thought she was meant to be alone for the rest of her life, and she absolutely adored everything about you. 

But today, you were completely drained, and you knew even though you were in pain, your kids would still be full of energy. In times like these, you would curse in every language you knew in your head, to be sure that the tiny humans wouldn’t hear, of course. You had managed to push though the morning by sitting down as much as you could, the medication you had taken after waking up slowly losing its effect. You were so thankful when the bell rang for lunch as the kids all rushed to the cafeteria, finally letting your head drop on your arms. You felt like you couldn’t move from your desk, the pain becoming unbearable by the minute.

“Hey, Y/N, do you think I can borrow a…” Mary Margaret, as her usual cheerful self, had just stormed in your classroom, looking to borrow something from you as she did every day. She was always a bit distracted and often misplaced her belongings, and you would usually just shake your head smiling before lending her your pen, your sharpener, or even your paper trimmer. “Are you alright?” she had stopped in her tracks when she had noticed your posture, and you slowly raised your head before you forced a smile on your face.

“I’m just in a little pain, but it will pass,” you shrugged it off as if you hadn’t wished to disappear into the ground over and over again just seconds before. You forced yourself to get up from your chair, leaning on your desk with both hands as you were a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over you. It wasn’t uncommon that the pain would lead to you to be physically sick, getting too much for your body to cope. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be in front of Mary Margaret and on your desk. 

“Are you sure? You’re as white as a ghost,” she rushed to your side when she noticed your struggling, grabbing your forearms and helping you sitting down once again.

“It’s just my stupid period, I’m not the first neither the last,” you mumbled before reaching for your bag under your desk, attempting to find your medication in the mess you had made when you packed it up this morning. 

“I think you should go home, Y/N. You’re clearly in pain,” you missed the way her brows furrowed when another wave of pain rushed over you, a small whimper leaving your lips. 

“It’s too complicated. Besides, the day is almost over” you sighed, before finally finding what you were looking for in your bag, as you grabbed your water bottle to swallow the pill, hoping it would take effect quickly. 

“If by almost over, you mean the hour that will be the lunch break plus the entire afternoon, you’re clearly not thinking straight. Come on, get your things and I’ll take care of everything,” she argued, her hands on her hips, her brown eyes defying you to refuse. With a sigh and no strength to fight back, you started grabbing your things on your desk, missing the way she quickly pulled out her phone from her pockets before typing something and putting it back there before helping you to get your belongings. 

“Thank you, and I’m sorry,” you whispered the last part, ashamed of yourself for leaving work before the end of the day knowing she had to cover for you. 

“Don’t be sorry, I’d rather have you back feeling better so I can keep borrowing your things. Nobody else will let me,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood, which seemed to work as it made you smile a little before guiding you to the school’s front doors. She held it open for you, pointing at the black Mercedes that was parked right in front of you. It took you a second to recognize it, even though it seemed oddly familiar, the sun blinding you momentarily. 

“Did you seriously called Regina?” your eyes widened, feeling a headache forming behind your eyelids. You rubbed them off with your fists like a child, not caring about the mascara you had quickly put on earlier, which made Mary Margaret beam at you when some fell under your eyes, completely obnoxious of the anxiety raising inside of you. She waved at Regina who was walking towards you with her lips pressed together, an indication she was not happy. You were in trouble big time.

“I didn’t called, I texted her. See you later!” she turned on her heels and walked back into the school before you could answer back. You now understood a little better why Regina was aiming for her head back in the Enchanted Forest. You turned your gaze back to your girlfriend, who grabbed your bag from your shoulder, noticing the way her jaw was clenched, her eyes boring into yours with an expression you only took for anger even though her movements were nothing but gentle. 

“I’m so sorry Regina, I didn’t know she would bother you at work,” you hesitated, looking at your feet, not daring to meet her eyes. It seemed so silly to pull her out of her office when you knew she was so busy simply because you had your period.

She grabbed your chin with her hand, her thumb slowly brushing circles on your cheek as she forced you to meet her eyes. They were much softer now, almost glossy, and you realized that what you had mistaken for irritation was worry. 

“You never bother me,” she pulled you close to her, holding you the closest she possibly could, your face finding its usual spot in her neck. You breathed in her scent, your shoulders dropping as the anxiety left your body before wrapping your arms around her waist as tightly as you could. “I want you to call me when you’re in pain,” she whispered into your hair, swinging you lightly from side to side. “I want to be there for you, Y/N,” she pulled back to look at your face, but keeping you close to her, your eyes flooded with tears as she gently brushed away the ones that managed to escape. “You always come first. Please, never hesitate to call me.”

You were sure your knees would give in if she wasn’t holding you close to her, the love and worry filling her beautiful brown eyes making a new wave of tears escaping your owns. You simply nodded as she softly grabbed your hand, not before wiping the tears from your cheeks once again and kissing it when she was done. The way she would drop her stubborn, sarcastic attitude and become so caring, so gentle with you, even though you were in public, and no matter who watched never ceased to amaze you. It almost made you sob. “Let’s go home now, shall we?”

She led you to the passenger’s side of her car and opened the door for you, as you sat down with another wave of pain stealing your breath away. She noticed immediately, being familiar with your often painful episodes from the year you’d been together, and gently kissed your forehead before closing the door and making her way to the other side, sitting down behind the wheel and driving off right away. “We’ll be home soon, and then I can put warm water to heat for the bag and make you tea. Deal?” she briefly looked at you to make sure you had heard her before returning her attention on the road, seeing you nod in the corner of her yes.

“And we can cuddle?” you whispered, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it.

Regina smiled widely and glanced at you again, pulling a hand just above your knee, rubbing your skin softly with her thumb. “Yes darling, we can cuddle,” she laughed, making you blush at the nickname, and also because you knew it meant she had taken the rest of the day off to spend it with you. It made your heart swell with love for the woman sitting next to you, not taking your eyes off her for the duration of the drive. 

It appeared to be much faster than usual, even though you didn’t lived too far from the school. You blamed it on your fuzzy brain and on your lack of concentration, being too busy staring at your girlfriend, not knowing Regina had sped up a little, hating to see you hurting so much and wanting to take care of you as soon as possible. She helped you to get out of the car and argued with you over carrying your bag inside, before you finally gave in and let her do it. She opened the door and you went in, letting yourself fall on the couch with a sight. You closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths, hence why you didn’t noticed when your girlfriend wrapped your shoulders with your favorite blanket that had little brown bears that you absolutely adored and that she hated, stating it was made for children and that she wasn’t one. It made you giggle a bit when you peeked through your heavy eyelids to see what she had wrapped you in with, only to notice she wasn’t next to you anymore.

“And what are you laughing at exactly?” she questioned from the kitchen, leaning in the doorframe to get a better look at you. You figured she had put water to boil as you noticed the empty water bag in her hand, your eyes softening even more at the sight in front of you.

“You gave me your favorite blanket,” your mouth was curved into a soft smile, hinting that you were finding it utterly adorable and were simply teasing her a little. 

She rolled her eyes but smirked at you, happy to see you almost back to normal, turning her attention back to the kettle, the high pitching noise indicating the water was hot. She carefully filled the water bag and screw the lid shut as tight as she could, as the last thing she wanted to do was to burn you. Then, she reached for the tea box and quickly filled a cup with water before making her way back to you, setting the fuming mug on the living room’s small table and hanging you the now warm water bag. She sat next to you, her leg touching yours, and studied your face carefully for any signs of discomfort. She was relieved to see the colors returning to your face slowly, having also noticed that you were paler than usual when she had picked you up. 

“Thank you, Gina,” you smiled gratefully at her, the warmth seeming to help with the pain almost instantly, and the medication from earlier having probably kicked in too, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. “Lie down with me?” you battled your eyelashes and gave her a little pout when she unwrapped the blanket from your shoulders, feeling cold immediately. She kissed your lips gently before laying down on the couch, pulling you down with her, being careful to leave enough space for you to place the water bag. She draped the blanket on you both this time, which almost made you want to tease her again for being wrapped in the blanket she seemed to hate so much. You immediately wrapped your arms around her after making sure the bag would hold itself in place between you two, nuzzling your face in her neck and placing a kiss that made her shiver. She felt your lips curl into a smile again her skin at her reaction, holding you tighter than before. 

“Thank you for everything. I love you, Gina” you mumbled, feeling exhausted from the pain that seemed to temporarily have given you a break. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll always take care of you,” her nails tracing your back made it hard to stay awake, feeling more than content wrapped safely in your girlfriend’s arms. “Close your pretty eyes, I’ll still be there when you wake up,” she whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head. And you did, knowing that no matter what happens, you’d always be safe with Regina by your side.

[monzabee]

a not so meet cute – cl16

paper rings, prologue(?)

masterlist || series masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles meets his neighbour, who quickly captures his attention.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none other than charles being charles, also might have some cursing, google translate french

Request: “Hii if you’re taking requests could you please write a fic for Charles where he’s your best friend and he asks you to fake date him because he think he likes another girl so he wants to make her notice him/make her jealous kind of thing and you agree even though you love him and during the fake dating he realises that he loves you too and yeah angst fluff and all but a happy ending .If you decide to write this tysm and incase you don’t feel like writing this that’s cool too thanks either way ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! although i am still working on the first chapter of this new series, i wanted to write a little something for you guys to introduce you to the world i had in mind! i know it was not on the wip schedule, but the inspiration struck so i decided to go with it. ever since i saw the wedding pictures of margaret qualley and jack antonoff, the only thing i've been thinking of was the song, and i though it was the perfect song for the characters i had in mind. so, welcome to the new series, inspired by the request above, so thank you for the anon who put the idea in my mind to create this whole series, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

August, 2017

He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble"

Charles loves his country, he really does. He’s always been patriotic of some sorts, he supposes. But the one thing he absolutely loathes about Monaco? The heat, no questions asked. The worst part isn’t even the heat itself, per se, it is the fact that his apartment has no elevator and he has to walk up five stories just to make it to his apartment – in the heat. So yeah, even though he is as patriotic of a Monégasque as they come, he definitely wishes he was somewhere else at the moment. When he does make to his floor, however, he’s met with a rather peculiar view, where his new neighbour is yelling at someone on the phone.

“No, I said I wanted the granite counters,” the person specify, fingers clutching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No!” The man straight up yells, “Ceux en granit, connard, pas ceux en graphite. I don’t think they even come in graphite!”

Deciding to remain silent as he makes his way towards his own apartment, Charles ignores the man standing in front of the apartment opposite of his. Though, he realises that the apartment’s door is open and there is construction going on inside, which explains the drilling sounds he’s been hearing early in the morning and the smell of fresh paint that never seems to leave the shared floor.

Side-eyeing the whole ordeal, he manages to make it to his apartment without attracting the attention of the man – or so he thinks. Just as he’s about to unlock his front door, he feels a pat on his shoulder. As he turns towards the man, there is a curious look on his face, “Hi?”

“Hello,” the man greets, “do you know how i can contact the superintendent?”

For reasons unknown (extreme hangover), Charles’ brain decides to blank out, “Quoi?”

“Le commissaire,” the man clarifies, “savez-vous comment je peux les contacter?” And Charles realises he would have been impressed with the man’s accent if he wasn’t so hangover from the night before. The superintendent, do you know how I can contact them?

“Ah,” Charles nods in understanding, “sure, let me give you his number.”

After the man saves the number he gives to his phone, he extends his hand in a friendly greeting. “I owe you one, I’m Declan, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Charles,” he responds with, what he hopes to be, a friendly smile. Motioning the apartment behind them, he asks, “Are you my new neighbour?”

“Oh, no, no,” Declan laughs, and it’s a warm, almost infectious laugh. It reminds Charles of– well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s voice draws him back to the conversation, “My sister is, I’m renovating it for her.”

Charles nods in understanding, “Ah, I see. I’ve never seen her around, I don’t think.”

“Well that’d be because she’s as annoying as little sisters come,” Declan laughs again, and this time it manages to get a smile out of Charles. “You know what? We’re actually having a small party at my place tonight, why don’t you come?”

“You’ve just met me,” Charles points out, voicing his confusion, “you really want to invite me to your house?”

“Pish posh,” Declan waves him off, already starting to walk back to his sister’s apartment “I’ll send you the details, bring alcohol!”

Charles tries to come up with excuses to give Declan when he’s a no show at the party, but all the excused he come up with sounding either shitty, entitled or just a mess in general. So he convinces himself to get ready after a much needed shower, and remembers to pick up a bottle of tequila on his way to the address Declan texted him earlier that day. Considering the amount of cars parked in front of the apartment complex, Charles thinks whether it’s going to be a ‘small’ party as Declan put earlier, but he manages to find a place to park his car, nonetheless. Surprisingly, it’s not hard to find which apartment belongs to his new ‘friend’, as the people he seems to keep literally bumping into give him directions which lead him to the top floor – he thinks, like brother like sister, huh?

“Ah, bienvenu, Charles!” Declan greets him as he enters the apartment, filled with more people than he honestly expected; but hey, they are in Monte Carlo after all.

Because he was raised by his mother, Charles replies, “Merci de me recevoir,” but because he is Charles, he finds himself reverting easily to French. Of course, he soon realises that his new friend has no trouble understanding him.

“Of course, ma maison est ta maison.” With a wide smile that reaches his eyes, he takes the bottle Charles offer him and pats his shoulder in a friendly manner, “Good lad, let me put this in the kitchen and we’ll find my sister together. I suppose she’s here somewhere.”

Giving him a firm nod, Charles is suddenly left alone to gaze around the living area. He quickly realises that he’s not the only one who is particularly patriotic as he comes face to face with the Union Jack on the wall, proudly displayed on the wall, seems to tell a story of cultural connections and a home away from home. He’s also, somehow, met with a very eccentric group of people, who seem to be insistent on having him join their various conversation – which he does his best to partake in.

As he chats with a group of fellow partygoers, he notices Declan making his way through the crowd toward him. “Charles,” he says with an apologetic smile, “sorry for that, let’s go.”

As they move through the apartment, Charles catches glimpses of the décor, which can only be described as eclectic, but what he realises that Declan made sure to fill up his walls with all kinds of memories; from photographs of what Charles thinks is his family to his diplomas, to even famous artwork – he’s not sure whether the Warhol he just passed by is real or not, but he supposes it’s probably the first option. They arrive at a corner of the rooftop terrace where a cozy seating area is arranged. A few guests are engaged in animated discussions, while others lounge comfortably, enjoying the ambiance. However, it doesn’t take either him or Declan to realise that his sister is, in fact, not with the group.

Though, it doesn’t take the latter to spot his sister, mumbling with a wince under his breath, and when Charles follows Declan's gaze to find her engaged in a rather animated discussion with a man who looks both frustrated and slightly bewildered by her. “Poor guy.”

“Seems like she's keeping him entertained.” Charles offer, careful with his words, and also quite confused at the man’s reactions to whatever Declan’s sister seems to be saying.

“Eh, sisters.” Declan shrugs, and motions Charles to follow him.

As they approach their corner of the terrace, her voice becomes clearer, and Charles can overhear snippets of the conversation. “I just don’t understand why we can’t print more money,” she says in an airy voice.

The man she's speaking to rubs his temples, clearly grappling with how to respond. “Well, it's not that simple. Printing more money can lead to inflation and devalue the currency.” He takes a moment to think, then, “Think of it like shoes–”

“Okay,” Declan laughs nervously as he places himself between the two, turning to the other man with a kind smile, “I think we’re done here, mate, she’s playing you. She’s an econ major, sorry for that.” Though Charles can’t see the expression on her face, he imagines there’s some sort of a victorious smile as she waves the man away, “Stop emasculating my friends, please.”

“Well choose better friends, and I won’t,” she shrugs, following his brother’s movements as he makes his way back near Charles, she turns towards him as the white dress she’s wearing sways gently in the evening breeze. There’s a surprised look on her face when she realises and they are not alone, “Um, hi.”

With a playful grin, Declan points to Charles and turns to his sister, “This is Charles, your new neighbour, and Charles, this is my sister–”

Bambi.

It’s the only word that comes to Charles’ mind when he sees your eyes and a friendly smile you give to him, “Nice to meet you, Charles.”

His eyes fall down to your extended hand, and he scrambles to regain his composure, taking your hand and shaking it gently. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you too.”

With an unexpected clap from your brother, which has both you and Charles jumping slightly, you turn to him with a glare, “Well, now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. And you,” he points to you which elicits a raised eyebrow from you, “don’t scare him off, and for God’s sake change this music.”

“What’s wrong with ABBA?” You ask with a small pout already forming on your lips.

“We need a change,” Charles watches with a silent chuckle as Declan starts walking back towards the kitchen, “ergo, change it!”

“Well that was an interesting exit,” you mumble, eyes following your brother until he’s out of both your and Charles’ views. Afterwards, you turn your attention back to the man standing in front of you, “What do you think about The Smiths?”

“Who?” Charles asks you, confusion written on his face.

“Not The Who,” you nudge him slightly, chuckling softly, though your laughter dies down once you realise he’s really confused. “I– The Smiths, Charles! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” you softly sing, but he replies with a small shake of his head, and a shrug. “Oh, I love The Smiths! Come on, you have a lot to learn.”

As you grab him by his wrist to guide him back inside the apartment, I might be in trouble, he thinks to himself. And then, you turn around to give him a full smile, with a glint of mischief in your eyes that he can't quite interpret, and say, “I can already feel that we are going to be very good friends.”

And then he knows, he’s definitely in trouble.

[marvelobsessed134]

Just got done spewing some facts under a video supporting Priscilla and her “movie” I thought I’d share them here:

So many people here are uneducated and will blindly believe everything Priscilla says because she’s a woman and it’s edgy to hate on Elvis.

1. Elvis was never actually wanting to date or marry Priscilla he was with an actress very much his age that was back home while he was in Germany. He just saw Prissy as someone to talk to. She has so many issues with her yandere type fan tendencies being obsessive over a man she wasn’t even with in the first place and who didn’t give her a second thought

2. She did NOT hopelessly wait around for Elvis after he left she continued to play several different guys and she did have a very normal high school experience she went to dances and football games

3. Prissy’s father blackmailed Elvis into marrying her. Elvis did NOT want to marry Priscilla

4. Yes, Elvis cheated but not until after Priscilla cheated first with her dance instructor. She’d also call him while she was doing the deed so he could hear

5. Priscilla said herself the chair scene is highly inaccurate. Elvis was angry on the phone with the Colonel and threw a chair to the wall as Priscilla was walking in the room and he immediately apologized and said he didn’t see her come in

6. She constantly changes her story and her book she said herself isn’t accurate because she said if she didn’t make it dramatic enough it wouldn’t sell

7. For those who might say “she’s a child, she can’t do no wrong she didn’t know what she was doing” at 14 I was well aware of shit and what I did. And I know she did too she wasn’t some innocent angel

8. She’s an awful mother to Lisa Marie. Actively dated and let a man around Lisa that had said he had inappropriate feelings for Lisa when she was a child

9. Got with a married man who had a PREGNANT wife. Yes it’s also the man’s fault but she knew damn well he was married and his wife was pregnant

10. She cannot stop talking bs about Elvis cause he’s the only reason she’s relevant. In contrast to one of (what I believe to be) Elvis’ true loves Ann Margaret who only says nice things about him but she also had a career before meeting him

All in all, yes Elvis had some flaws but people spread misinformation about him all the time just like they do with Michael Jackson. Priscilla is no saint, she’s a lying gold digger who only cared about money in the first place. Not to mention she was laughing at Elvis’s funeral so if she truly was “in love” then why would she do such an awful thing by laughing? She continues to use the Presley name even though Elvis told her not to after they divorced and constantly spew lies and drop his name over and over again. She’s told her story countless times, this movie was slander towards a man who cannot defend himself. Like I said Elvis wasn’t a saint either but you need to take off the rose colored glasses and see both sides of the story. Thank you.

[maybankswhore]

Maybe jj and and high school sweetheart wife

jj would definitely be the kind’ve guy that settles down early on in life & would not gaf.

you and jj would meet in your sophmore year of high school.

at first jj was a total player. he was known as the guy who got around , & only called the ‘bad boy’ because he just didn’t care about rules and smoked weed.

charming as always , though , when you and him are partnered for a random first week of school project — he’s immediately obsessed with you.

he thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and he has to have you.

you make him work for it , though.

and he loves that you do.

when he finally gets to call you his girlfriend — he flips the script.

everyone’s shocked at how easy he settled down for you.

they’re even more shocked when the two of you are still together by graduation.

you guys became the most adored couple at kildare.

after high school things get a little difficult because you two are going into adulthood and try figuring things out.

you break up a couple times but it only last about a week before jj is back at your apartment apologizing even if it isn’t his fault because he knows you’re it for him.

a couple years after high school ends and you’re both entering your mid-twenties , he proposes.

it’s a super simple , romantic wedding with your closest friends and jj literally can’t stop crying.

his vows? like poetry.

he’s been working on those since junior year of highschool because he knew he’d end up marrying you.

jj would be so soft with you.

he brags to everyone he meets that two of you are high school sweethearts.

“yeah— me and my wife met back in high school and have been together ever since. crazy , right? isn’t that amazing? she’s amazing.”

“i got so lucky to have the most beautiful girl in the world.”

he thinks it’s so special the two of you grew from teenagers together to adults.

“i know her way back when she had braces and colored her hair when she cried. watched her go from my girl , to my woman. my wife.”

cries when he listens to “margaret” by lana del rey for the first time because it makes him think of you.

“that song is so fucking sick for making me feel this right now on a tuesday.”

jj makes sure to be the best partner and wants to have the family he didn’t get when he was younger.