#Even though Luke made so many mistakes

[ganeshpnf]

I believe fandom does not talk about Luke and Annabeth's relationship enough. I mean, plus Thalia, they had to survive together. And they were like this:

Imagine what they had gone through, being this small. I always think that baby Annabeth didn't understand many things around her, despite being so smart, she was only 7.

I hc when they left May's house, Luke was so frustrated. Thalia tried to calm him down but eventually she left him alone so he can clear his head. Annabeth probably asked Thalia why he was so upset, only understanding his father is not a good man in his eyes, just like hers. So she picked up crayons Thalia found for her in the dumpster and drew a picture just for her big brother, trying to remind him that he has a new family:

I hc Luke carried the picture for years, even though he left the camp and betrayed everyone, he still carried it. It helped him to calm down.

Little Annabeth would be upset that she had to sleep in another cabin but she got used to her new siblings. But it didn't stop her cuddling to her big brother at the campfire, as they mostly thought of Thalia, silently grieving for her.

Luke would remember how she had to hold Annabeth tight in her arms as she screamed and pounded on his chest loudly as Thalia disappeared, her battle cries turning to screams. Even silliest songs wouldn't cheer them up for a while at the campfire.

Eventually, Annabeth would start to forget a bit, still visiting Thalia's tree every day and telling her stories, but her eyes starts to shine. She finally starts laughing again, being a small kid. She would love to follow Luke around, jumping up and down as Luke just wanted some alone time.

No wonder Annabeth spend years thinking he could be redeemed. He was her hero, her big brother for years. She was in denial and even cried at the botl.

I always think, just like Percy, Luke saw Annabeth at the River Styx. But probably small Annabeth, when they first met. He probably saw her hopeful eyes and the moment they become family. At the final battle, Annabeth's tears reminded him of who he lost. At that moment, when Annabeth mentioned his promise, he saw the memory again, where he gained a sister who would love him and look up to him for years. Yet, he lost her, he lost the kid he promised to protect, he promised to love. At that moment, he realized he fucked up, he became Luke again, sacrificing himself so Kronos wouldn't kill her. He was so disappointed and terrified of what he had done after seeing the blood coming out of her mouth...

At the end, Annabeth's and Luke's bond saved the war.

(Fanart belongs to silima.art!)

[bratbarzal]

Let It Happen (LH43) 1/2

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

If you're ready, all I mean is we could go, I've never craved someone's attention as much as yours.

General Warnings: an almost unbearable amount of sarcasm and snark, even more idiotic shenanigans, many affectionate empty threats of murder/violence, fluff, mentions of golf 🤢, cursing and I'm pretty sure that's it for this half

A/N: in line with the general consensus lmao this has been split, part two will be posted as soon as it's finished (lol) but it's best read as one whole fic, it isn't a multi-part situation really!! it was originally supposed to be my submission for the eras tour fic challenge (hence the graphic I'm too attached to to change) but took a different direction to the song I was given, and I missed the deadline, and I pretty much listened to the secret of us exclusively while writing this whole thing. also dropping an overwhelmingly summery fic in december might actually be my brand. keep your eyes peeled for a christmas fic in july.

very special shoutout to shea @sleepretreat I made a random comment one day that luke gives seth cohen energy, and she fanned that flame like a full time job. ily shea!! I hope this lives up to any expectations and I owe a lot to your instigating!!

AS ALWAYS!!! never proofread!! I'll probably get around to it when the thought of a spelling mistake keeps me awake at night. and also!! please let me know what you think I am like a teeny tiny little plant that can only thrive under the constant shower of validation and you don't want me to wither and die do you? (I’m kidding) (I’m not)

You kind of, sort of, think you might hate summer.

You haven’t always felt this way, though. Growing up, it had always been your favourite time of the year. 

No school? Check.

Going on vacation, sometimes multiple, all expenses covered by your parents? Double check.

Getting to do all the cool things you don’t have time for in the school year with all your friends? Concerts, festivals, beach days, bonfires on the evenings. Check, check and check again.

But 4 years ago, your whole world as you knew it was torn apart, and summers have never been the same, since.

A season that was once filled with light and companionship, never ending plans and joviality, became darker - isolated, getting yourself out of the house even if everyone else was busy, driving just to drive and making the best of your own company. 

School ended up becoming your escape, especially since you had started college - your studies and the chaos of Greek life distracting you from the calamitous state of your home life, making new friends that became like family and sticking to them like glue, where possible, clingy and possessive to the point of ruin, almost - and so the lack of it in the summers now actually sends you into some sort of warped spiral.

It’s manageable in the winter and spring, the breaks no longer than a few weeks at a time, but going home for summer is somewhat of a nightmare.

It’s hard to go back, hard to ignore the mess your mind has become when it’s just you and your mother - or, you, your mother and whatever bottle of pinot she’s 3 glasses deep into at any given time of the day - and you’re sat in a house that’s a cold reminder of the warmth that once filled it. 

But when Ellie - your best friend since moving to college, the girl who took the sister part of sorority sister to the next level at all possible opportunities over the years - found out you’d put your name down to be the caretaker for your sorority house instead of going home, she had put her foot down on your summertime sadness session.

Which is how you end up moving into her family home - spending the first few weeks integrating yourself into their routine while trying to grip desperately onto some form of your own - trying not to get too used to the feeling of such a big family when you know it won’t be forever.

You braid her little sister’s hair everyday, kick a soccer ball around with her little brother when he needs someone to stand in goal, wash the dishes with her mom, talk sports with her dad, and before long, you blend like a chameleon into their dynamic.

You pick up a summer job at the country club to cling back onto your independence. Your commute provides the solitude and quiet you‘ve grown accustomed to in the years before, a bus journey through town with headphones on, watching the scenery and admiring the greenery until you get to work, donning your navy blue polo and tucking your little notepad into your hip apron as you serve tables at the clubhouse restaurant and bar. 

It’s a much needed escape from Ellie, if you’re honest.

You love that girl with all your heart, appreciate her housing you more than you’ll ever be able to say, but if you have to hear her sit and mope about how hopelessly in love she is with Jack Hughes for even a second longer, you’re going to vomit. Or scream. Or both.

Jack and Ellie grew up together - their families close, Ellie’s dad best friends with Jack’s uncle, or something - and she’s been into him since he had teeth missing - a point she loves to hammer home when it comes to you always listing that as one of his (many, if it’s up to you) cons. Considering his job, and the fact he already lost one, not too long ago, a toothless boyfriend seems like a massive ick, if you’re honest. 

But Ellie is beyond reason when it comes to him. She worships the ground he walks on - talks about him non-stop, messages him every day, regales you with stories you, awfully, but realistically, couldn’t care less about - and it’s the only real problem about living with her.

Even beyond the summer, you two had shared a room your first two years in college, still live in the same house - and it’s a year round problem.

But being unable to escape, having your days tied to close to hers, and knowing that it’s bound to be worse with proximity, Jack back in Michigan for the summer, himself, she’s starting to drive you up the wall.

It wouldn’t bother you if you had never met Jack, but the two of you don’t exactly get along. He’s rude, and self-absorbed, and had looked down on you the first time he ever laid eyes on you, and you really shouldn’t let it get to you, but you do - the thought that your best friend is in love with an asshole, and that she won’t let you hear the end of it. 

Won’t stop whining about how he’ll never feel the same, or that she can’t handle another summer of biting her tongue, of being around him, feeling the way she does, and not being able to do anything about it.

She deserves better. 

Ellie has a heart of gold, and she deserves someone who handles it with care. If Jack Hughes doesn’t like her back, that’s his loss - but you’re kind of getting sick of telling her that.

Getting through a whole summer of it is going to be hard, you think, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than being entirely alone. So you put on a brave face, use work as your escape in the same way you usually do with school, and avoid blowing your top for as long as you can, suffering through the late nights and heart to hearts where Jack is the sole topic of discussion, and bask in the good stuff.

In the chaos of her siblings, in the closeness of her family, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms.

This summer could be okay, you’ve just got to give it a chance. 

Luke Hughes loves summer.

He loves being back home in Michigan, spending his days out on the lake, or making the trip out to parade around Ann Arbor, catching up with all his college buddies, making the rounds at all the UMich sporting events he now gets a VIP pass to thanks to his last name.

The routine of it all is familiar, and warming, and it restores a sense of normality that playing in the NHL for the past year has so brutally ripped from him, already. 

He had enjoyed starting his summer overseas - making the team for the world championships and competing beyond the abysmal end to his rookie season - had enjoyed the time away from his brothers, if he��s honest. Quinn and the Canucks making it a few rounds into the playoffs, and Jack back home recovering from getting surgery on his shoulder - and it’s the latter he needed the reprieve from.

He does love living with his brother.

Jack looks after him in ways he’ll never really be able to make it up to him for. He always has, Quinn has too, but ever since Luke got drafted to the Devils, Jack has helped him adjust to the chaos of his career without much fuss or hardship.

And he really is grateful for that.

But, God, can he be annoying.

Especially when it comes to his infatuation with his best friend, Ellie.

Jack and Ellie have always been close - despite the fact she’s Luke’s age - and grew up thick as thieves, spending summers together, especially when the family moved to Michigan, and Ellie’s family were just on the other side of town. 

He’s always been obsessed with her, even if it hasn’t always been love - but these last few years have been different. Like a switch flipped in his head when Jack saw what Ellie was like when he came to visit Luke in his freshman year of college.

A version of Ellie that was no longer just his - no longer exclusive to their summer bubble, and lived in a world beyond lounging by the lake and hanging out with the Hughes family.

A version of Ellie who liked partying, liked schmoozing and charming everybody she came into contact with, liked being the centre of everyone else’s attention, not just Jack’s.

And it’s that version of Ellie that has driven Luke’s brother crazy, which has, in turn, started to drive Luke crazy. He talks about her non-stop, and it was those much needed weeks away in Czechia that almost had Luke forgetting just how stupid his brother has gotten about the whole thing.

Until he came home to Michigan, and Jack, in all the commotion with his shoulder, with ending his season early and starting his summer off alone, has worked himself into such a stupor about the whole thing that merely a week into his return, he has driven Luke up the wall. 

He’s grumpy, all the time - which leads to him being snarky, all the time. He huffs and puffs around the house so much Luke is starting to think he might need an inhaler, and he really can’t take any more.

Not when he’s making such a show of his irritation, stomping around with heavy feet and slamming doors that don’t need to be shut in the first place. 

“What crawled up your ass and died there?” Luke frowns as he follows Jack into the kitchen upon his return from therapy, holding out for the doors he swings open with a little too much vigour so that they don’t swing back into his brother’s slinged-shoulder. “I thought the physio is going alright?”

“It is,” Jack huffs, storming over to the fridge and yanking it open, the jars and bottles in the door clanking together in a way that makes Luke cringe. “I’m fine.”

“Tell that to all the hinges you’re testing the limits of.” 

“Don’t start with me, Luke, I’m not in the mood.”

“You just said you’re fine.” Luke rolls his eyes as he starts to scroll through his group chat with his friends from college, trying to check who said they might be free today to get him out of this vicious circle.

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly not.” It’s interactions like this that confirm to Luke just how annoying Jack has become - because what reason does he have to be so evasive? Luke is handing him the opportunity to air out his grievances on a silver platter, and he’s rather slam cupboards and create creases in his forehead from frowning 24/7.

“Fine, it’s Ellie.”

Luke wishes he never bothered asking, although he has been wondering why he’s been seeing way less of her already this summer. He had figured Ellie was away with family until he saw her at the gas station the other night - had watched from the car as Jack had what seemed like a heated conversation by the entrance. 

“She’s refusing to hang out with me.”

“Has she said why?” Luke asks, although he doesn’t really care. He’s just asking to get it out of the way in the hopes that Jack talking about it might lighten the load, might make his own life a little easier. 

It’s the bitter muttering of your name that captures Luke’s full attention, his neck audibly cracking at the speed in which his head shoots up, no longer caring what could possibly be going on with the boys in the group chat. 

“She isn’t going back to whatever fiery hell pit it is that she comes from for the summer, and she’s staying with Ellie’s family, therefore Ellie isn’t staying with us.”

Luke hasn’t heard your name in a while. Not since he left college last year, not since he got caught up in the whirlwind life in the NHL, when a schoolboy crush on a girl he interacted with once in his entire college career became the least of his worries.

But one utterance of it has his spine straightening, just like it would have done just over a year ago.

You’re in Michigan. You’re at Ellie’s, on the other side of town. You’re barely two degrees of separation from him.

“Why can’t Ellie bring her here?” Luke asks, throat dry and voice breaking so subtly that he hopes Jack doesn’t notice. That could be fun. Would make up for the hell his brother has been putting him through since he got here. 

Maybe a little glorious sunshine might finally get you to notice his existence. He wouldn’t mind third wheeling Jack and Ellie if you were there, too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to prove he’s worthy of your attention - too shy and too scared to do so, back in college, but he’s different, now. Confident, almost. More sure of himself.

“She hates me.” Jack huffs, “Last time we met she was giving me the stink eye all night.”

And of course it would be his brother to ruin his plans, yet again. You’ll probably hate him, too - a hatred so strong for Jack that it seeps through his entire bloodline, because Luke of all people knows he can be annoying like that. 

“Trust me, she probably doesn’t care enough to hate you,” Luke scoffs, not realising the spool of information he’s just given Jack to unravel. 

“You know her?”

“We had a class together. I know of her.”

Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.

Luke knows a lot about you. It’s borderline creepy, the observations he can still remember, even after so long.

He knows you like only like coffee if it’s iced, had seen you with too many clear plastic cups to count, had watched plump lips chewing at straws by the time you had finished the drink. He had even, one time, tried to zoom in on a picture of your order printed on the side in one of his many states of delusion where he had been trying to build himself up to ask you out. 

He knows you can hold your own in an argument, had watched you debate with the best of them in your business comms class, has watched you shoot down most guys that approach you with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, and has watched you take down a frat guy or two, usually in defence of your sorority sisters - who Luke noticed you’re the most protective of. 

He knows you match your perfume to the colour of your outfit, had notice you smelled citrusy like lemons in yellow, floral like roses in pink, sweet like candy in purple, and clean like fresh cotton in blue. 

He knows the pieces of hair that frame your face curl when wet from the rain. Knows you used to volunteer at the pool on the weekends it was open to the kids of the community, would teach them how to swim. He knows you listen to Taylor Swift and has heard you humming just about every song of hers he knows.

But he doesn’t really know you - not on the level Jack is assuming, when his eyes widen and hope flashes across his crystal irises.

“You know how I’m your favourite brother?”

“No,”

“And I let you live with me all year?”

“My name’s on the lease.”

“Maybe you could talk to her for me?”

Luke sighs, shoulders heavy and eyes rolling practically to the back of his head. “I already told you, I don’t really know her like that.” 

“C’mon, you could at least try! I’m dying here, Luke! She’s hogging all of Ellie’s time, and she won’t give me the time of day if I try!”

If only Jack knew how much time you’d ever given Luke, he wouldn’t be asking him such an absurd request.

You’re so out of his league, it isn’t even funny. He probably couldn’t convince you to light a candle in a power cut, much less to give his annoying brother a shot to prove himself.

“You’re wasting your time, Jack,” Luke responds, “I’m gonna meet Dylan at the club. No, you can’t come.”

And by the time Luke makes it out to his car, he’s relieved to have ditched that conversation, entirely. He knows what’s waiting when he gets home, what his brother is going to be like for the next few months to come, but a temporary relief is all he needs.

He had already been planning on getting a few late morning holes in at the club, and meeting up with Dylan had been a white lie, needing some alone time away from Jack’s incessant whining to think about how he was going to survive the summer - and seeing you on your break, perched on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard by the clubhouse bar, basking in the sun and talking with your co-worker, he feels like he might have just struck gold.

Since when do you work here?

He supposes since you decided to spend your summer with Ellie’s family - it only makes sense. Ellie doesn’t live too far from the club - not as close as the lake house, but closer than Ann Arbor, at least. She’d worked in the club shop last summer, even when Jack insisted he’d pay for whatever she needed while she was staying with them - had said it was nice to pass the time with something else while they all went off doing whatever - and he assumes you’re doing the same. 

It’s the first time he’s seen you in a while, outside of coming across your pictures on his Instagram feed occasionally, or the flash of your figure in Ellie’s stories. 

He had thought that, after the year he’s had, he’d be over schoolboy crushes like this - would be over the way his breath catches just at the sight of you, over the way the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and stand to attention, over the way his throat goes dry as he watches your eyes crinkle from afar, watches your lips curve up into a heart-stopping grin.

But it’s like he’s picked up straight from where he left off at the end of his college career, pining after you from afar with hearts in his eyes and feet that start to shuffle at just the thought of approaching you.

If he’s going to do this, though, he needs to be clever about it, he thinks.

Approaching you on your break, limited to the amount of time he can use to put his point across, wasting yours, doesn’t seem like something that will work.

Which is how he finds himself bypassing you completely and walking straight into the bar, offering a friendly nod to the guy stood at the front of house, and letting him point him toward the right section to be served in. 

It isn’t long before you’re in front of him, sidling up to his booth, and he had almost forgotten how pretty you are up close. Hair clipped up with loose strands framing your face, chewing at your plump bottom lip as you scribble on your notepad to get your pen to work. And your honeyed voice settling deep in the pit of his stomach, warmth spreading throughout as you introduce yourself, like he has no clue who you are, and tell him you’ll be his server, “What can I get for you?”

“Five minutes of your time?”

The Luke that spent his college years obsessing over you might have stuttered - his voice might have broke, squeaked or choked in your presence - but while his throat does feel a little dry, he’s able to maintain his cool now, even when you look up from your scribblings to meet his eye. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he has matured.

His heart might jump in his chest, his mouth might tingle, his spine might stiffen, but he holds your gaze, hoping if you see a reflection of confidence that you might give him the time of day.

He’s seen you interact with guys before, has familiarised himself with the ten-foot walls you have in place, has seen others fold and try find a long way around, but he thinks that maybe matching your energy is the way to break through. 

Who doesn’t love a shortcut?

Your eyes narrow back at him as pouted lips form around a response, looking him up and down before tilting your head, and coming back with, “I all of a sudden feel the need to inform you we do have security here,” you point the tip of your pen to the entrance, where he was greeted on the way in. “I meant a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” his gaze flickers to the movement of your wrist as you click the other side of your pen, not even writing it down. “Maybe with a side of conversation?”

“I’ll go get your water,” you offer a smile, and the insincerity of it does little to cool his bravado, even if you head off with mutterings of why do I always get the creeps?

He watches you as you make your way over to the bar, not creep-like whatsoever, and he channels the nerves that sneak up on him, now that you’re distanced, through fiddling with his fingers on the table, pinching at the tips of them when you glance back over your shoulder, probably telling the girl behind the bar just how lucky you were to once again get the weirdo in your section.

It surprises him how little he cares, possessing more of your attention now than he ever has before, and if he could tell the Luke from two years ago, who spent every shared Principles of Marketing class ritualistically watching you chew on the end of your pen, that he’d be able to make eye contact without dribbling and breaking out into full body sweats, he’d have lost his mind.

He embodies a strange level of dislocated arrogance that manifests itself in his body language, sinking into the booth with arms outstretched across the back, a dangerous smirk teasing the corner of his mouth when you return, placing a pitcher of water down on the table and a glass with ice. 

“I’m Luke,” he tells you, placing a hand on his chest and doing his best to ignore the thudding he feels beneath it. “Hughes. Jack’s brother,” and when you look back over to him with a raised brow, he adds, “Ellie’s Jack.”

“And who’s Ellie?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your voice dripping in teasing sarcasm. 

“Funny,” he quips, biting back the urge to call you what he actually means. He can hardly call you cute, you’d probably pour that water straight over him. “I went to UMich, we had a couple classes together.”

Your eyes narrow again, and he knows it’s an intimidation tactic, a way to make him feel smaller than he’s acting, shrinking him down to a version of himself you can stamp your authority on, but he finds himself being resilient for once, carrying on like he isn’t affected.

He is. Massively, in fact. Just not in the way you probably want. Your indifference drives him in a way that presses into his spine, an inner voice pleading, notice me, I’m breaking through!

“Bauman’s class, Business Comms, you sat in the second row, I sat in the third, you dropped your pencil one time and I-,”

“I know who you are.”

So he’s been yapping on at you for no reason? Fantastic.

He can’t let his momentum slip, though, so he forces the corners of his lips into a victorious smile, and counters, “So you know I’m not a creep.”

“You literally memorised my seat in a class from 2 years ago, so…” 

“I have a good memory,” he’s quick to defend, fighting the urge to let his eyes linger on your pouted lips.

“Right,” you roll your eyes, “What is it you want, again?”

“I came to talk about Jack and Ellie.” He nods to the other side of the booth, and has to roll his shoulders so that his chest doesn’t inflate with misplaced hubris when you shuffle into the seat with a huff, discarding your notepad to the side as you level him with another raised brow.

“What about ‘em?”

“About how they’re hopelessly in love with each other and doing nothing about it.”

“You got hopeless right. What’s that got to do with us?”

Us. Oh, he likes that.

“I’m thinking they need a little shove in the right direction. And maybe we could be the shovers.”

You presses your lips together in faux-apology, a lopsided, patronising, adorable frown taking over your expression. “No can do, I don’t shove, I’m a pacifist.”

“A nudge, then?”

He isn’t giving up easy, no matter how much sarcasm you try to throw his way. You wouldn’t have sat down if there wasn’t something about this situation that irks you, too.

If Ellie is being only half as annoying as Jack is, he knows that you’re having a bad time of it. And you’re supposed to spending her summer with her - it can’t be easy, having your friend constantly pining over someone and refusing to do anything about it, if anything, making it your problem.

“Are you here to eat or annoy me?”

“Both,” he smiles, “I just figured a problem shared is a problem solved, and all.”

“How profound.” 

“C’mon, you sat down, you at least agree they’re into each other, and I know you’re staying with her this year, so I know you’ve been getting the same grief I have.”

“I’ve been on my feet 4 hours, I wouldn’t look too deep into me sitting down.” 

“Jack’s been moping around about her for years, I can’t listen to it anymore, he’s all, she’ll never like me back, this, and, I’ll never find a girl like her, that,” he whines, imitating his brother’s voice in the most annoying, high pitched tone he can muster, “I can’t take one more breakdown of her snap stories, especially not if it’s all summer if she’s not gonna be staying over, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“How supportive,” the sarcasm in your bite does little to hide the beginnings of your smile, your glare softening into what he hopes is the start of some sort of bond, a shared feeling of exasperation. Finding your footfall in common grounds.

“It’s relentless, we can’t go a single conversation anymore without him bringing her up,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, finally giving in to all the ways this is starting to grate on him. “I don’t get why neither of them do anything.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, too, relenting a little. “She talks about him so much it kind of makes me nauseous.”

“How supportive,” he mimics, nerve endings set alight when your eyes meet his over the table, and narrow in a different way, almost appreciative, almost respectable.

“Can it, Hughes,” you scoff, “Me even entertaining this conversation right now is support enough, I’ve had it in my ear for months about how she doesn’t know how she’ll make it through another summer.”

“That’s what I’m saying. If we can get them together this summer, then we’re both better off. No more whining or crying or earaches for either of us.”

“I’d hope you didn’t make your way out here with the mere promise of no more earaches, Luke.” He tries not to preen at the way you say his name. “What’s in it for me?”

“You and Ellie can stay at our lake house.” He suggests, straightening up before he leans onto the table, elbows extending so that he can rest on them, “It’s closer to the club than her family’s place, it’s gotta be better than having her siblings running around you all the time, I can even drive you to work when I’m free, if you want?”

You blink at him slowly, as if to say, and? “So I can stay at your glorified frat house, and you can be my chauffeur?” You ask with an unimpressed raise of your brow, before letting out a humourless scoff of, “What more could a girl want to do with her summer?

“What do you want?” He asks, leaning further forward.

“To go back to work and not worry about strange guys propositioning me, funnily enough.”

Luke laughs, a deep, breathy laugh that rises from the depths of his chest and comes alive in an almost-bark, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his mouth when it comes out.

This is fun. 

There’s no way he’s letting you leave this table without agreeing - just the thought of one more singular interaction keeping him on his toes.

“Why don’t we make it interesting, then?”

“It’s about time you tried.” The quiver of your lip tells him everything he needs to know - and that’s without the entertained glint in your eye that accompanies it. You’re enjoying this, just as much.

“We could make a competition out of it.”

“A competition?” You ask, with a curious tilt of your head.

There it is, he thinks. Interest: piqued. He practically has you in the palm of his hand. Who would ever have thought, the way to a sorority girl’s heart would be a friendly little wager?

“Whoever actually gets them together, wins.”

It’s all he can think of in the moment - petulant and part-planned, but it seems to be enough.

“Wins what?” You lean onto your elbows, your gaze levelling his as he mirrors your positioning, having to slouch a little further forward in his seat to meet your pretty eyes. 

“Whatever you want.” He doesn’t intend it to come out as low as it does, doesn’t realise how close the two of you have gotten over the table, but he sees the flicker of something cross your features as your head tilts again, eyes still locked on his as yours begin to narrow, still just as pretty even when they’re glaring at him.

“It’s what you want that concerns me.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” he jibes, watching the way your lips part in preparation of another witty comeback. “What do you say?” He asks, not giving you the chance, seeing the way it makes your skin crawl that you weren’t quick enough, for once. “Are you in?”

You heave out a sigh, shoulders slumping - a tell-tale sign that you’re about to acquiesce - and Luke starts to feel his chest puff out in victory. This feels like a shut-out. It feels like the best performance of his life. 

“You’re gonna make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Oh definitely,” he smirks, eyes tracking you as you lean back into the booth, retreating from him in defeat, a hand running through your hair as he promises, “You’ll warm up to me soon enough, though.”

“I can’t see that happening.”

“I can,” he shrugs, leaning back too. “I’ve been told I’m inevitable.”

Luke can remember, like it was yesterday, the first time he ever saw you.

Freshman year, the week he moved into his dorm at Michigan, Jack had sent him across campus to check in on how Ellie was getting on. He had arrived with some extravagant gift basket in tow, plastic wrapped, a giant blue bow tied around the top and an assortment of snacks inside, and was left knocking for at least five minutes before you showed up.

“Please tell me you’re not another stripper-gram.”

If his throat hadn’t gone so dry all of a sudden, he thinks he would have had more wits about him to have questioned the use of another - a concept that had stuck in his head for weeks until he caught wind of a story of pledges for Pike being sent around campus and forced to lure girls to their house through way of humiliating song. 

But God, you were pretty. 

Siren eyes narrowed toward him, glossy lips pouted pensively, long lashes blinking impatiently as you awaited some kind of response that didn’t come in the form of an open, drooling mouth.

“I’m Luke.”

“Right.” You had sighed, pretty eyes rolling at him. “You’re blocking my door."

“Oh, I’m-,” he stuttered, immediately stepping to the side for you to come forward and insert your key into the lock. “Does Ellie live here?” He asked, confusion etched into his features as he watched you swing the door open, turning in your place to look him over again.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m Luke.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I know her.”

“Clearly.”

“This is her basket.”

“Does she need to sign for it?”

“No, I-,”

“I’ll make sure she gets it, thanks, Lu!”

And when you had taken the basket from his hands, he had been too distracted by the way your skin brushed against his to properly respond, or worry if you had called him that as a nickname or had already forgotten his name, entirely.

He then spent days thinking about you, looking for you - at parties, in the campus coffee shop, online, despite not knowing your name - trying to commit to memory the way your eyes had sparkled when looking his way, until his first Business Communications class.

He had been a little early, first week nerves playing out and his constant craving for positive validation coming to the forefront, and was watching the door waiting for the professor to arrive. He had been slouched in his seat, chin in the palm of his hand, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor, and he had almost given himself whiplash when you walked in. 

He learned your name from there, learned a lot just from watching you in that class, but never really captured your attention.

And if the Luke that has been driving you to work every few days, who has been living with you for the past two weeks - who sits around the same dining table, laughs at the same jokes cracked when you’re all lounging around the house, sits out under the same sun, drinks from the same carton of orange juice in the morning - could tell the Luke that sat pining after you all that time, all the little ways in which he’s captured your attention lately, he’d probably have an aneurysm. 

When you and Ellie moved in, Luke had been the only one allowed to touch your stuff - and there’s a part of him that knows it was mainly because you enjoyed watching him work like a packhorse, hauling your cases up the stairs and dropping them in front of you with a huff, but there’s a larger, more delusional part that thinks you preferred him to the others, maybe even trusted him.

He’s taking credit for how quick you’ve adapted to the dynamic of the house, too. Of all the different faces coming in and out - Quinn’s friends, Jack’s friends, his friends, sometimes even his parents. If you’re around, you’re pleasant. You abide by house rules, some of them stupid, but set by the brothers so long ago that they just work now - like no phones outside of your rooms so that you can be more present. You insert yourself comfortably into conversations, you form your own relationships with everyone - you and Quinn trade book recommendations, you and Jack bicker while Ellie mediates. You do your fare share of chores - laundry, dishes, cooking, even. 

And he’s so caught up in just sharing space, just being around you, even, that for those first couple weeks, he forgets why you even agreed to be there in the first place.

At least, he forgets the incentive part - because he watches mindlessly as you interfere in Jack and Ellie’s dynamic, without a care in the world for the fact that it means he’s losing.

He watches you push one of them out of the way to claim whatever seat at the table or in the car forces them to sit beside each other. He watches you taunt Jack to just the right point where Ellie interferes, coos at him protectively and he melts into her affections. He watches you agree to plans he knows you wouldn’t in a million years follow along with, just to get them together - and all he can do is admire how easy you make it seem. 

He admires when you come out wakeboarding with the group, when you let him fasten you into a vest and don’t flinch when his fingertips brush against bare skin. Watches you bite your tongue over the fact you just got your hair blow dried - a fact you have no problems relaying back to him when he drives you to work the next day, and you’re muttering in his passenger seat about lake water giving you frizz - just so you’re not dampening the mood.

And when you agree to tag along to the golf course on your day off, despite the fact it’s so close to work if could be considered triggering, and you stick by Luke’s side so that Ellie can feign some sort of incompetence until Jack takes it upon himself to correct her form.

You stand by Luke’s side, the two of you watching with mirrored expressions of almost-disgust as Jack wraps his arms around Ellie’s body, and send a shiver down his spine when you lean in for only him to hear as you say, “I’d ask if you’ve put any more thought into what you want out of our bet, but I so have this in the bag.”

The bet.

Luke hasn’t thought about it since that day in the restaurant, if he’s honest, but he had known what he wanted then.

He’s hardly going to tell you, now, though. 

If he’s ever going to take you out on a date, he doesn’t really want to force your hand - not that he has a chance, he’s fallen so behind with this Jack and Ellie thing that it isn’t even funny.

He needs to up his game, if only for the fact that you’ll no doubt catch on to his lack of efforts, soon.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he taunts, because it’s what he does best, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“And how long do you plan on keeping them up there?” You call him out so easily, tilting your head when his eyes meet yours, mischief highlighted by the sunshine that speckles in your irises. 

“Maybe I’m luring you into a false sense of security,” he shrugs, “Maybe I’m letting you do all the heavy lifting so I can swoop in when those weak arms get tired.” He pokes at your side, basking in the way you scowl like you pertain any sort of threat to him.

He has you figured out, by now. 

“I didn’t have you pegged as being lazy, Hughes.”

“You spend a lot of time thinking about me, huh?”

“You wish,” you scoff, shoving when he dares to get too close, and it’s when Luke is biting back a full-blown grin that Ellie comes back over. 

“This sun is crazy, I think I left the sunscreen in the locker room and Jack’s nose is going all red, would you come back with me?”

You smile sweetly at your best friend and agree, only glaring at Luke over Ellie’s shoulder when she’s distracted with saying her brief, temporary goodbyes to Jack, and once you’ve turned and made your way over to the cart, he lets his eyes linger on your figure as you retreat.

The soft sway of your ponytail, the expanse of smooth skin along your legs, he’s completely hypnotised, and he needs to pull himself together, he thinks.

He tries to regain focus as he and Jack work their way through the next couple of holes, caddying their clubs around without the cart, and chatting mindlessly until Jack sighs heavily, like he’s been waiting to bring something up.

“I want to take Ellie out on the boat tomorrow,” He states as Luke tees up, resting on his club as he squints against the sun to watch his little brother, “Just the two of us, so we can talk about stuff.”

“Sounds riveting,” the disinterest in Luke’s tone is amplified by the lack of attention he’s giving overall, looking out across the green and trying to measure his swing before he takes it. “Have fun.”

“I was thinking I’d need your help for it to work.”

“I’m not being your boat-butler again,” Luke scoffs, mind immediately going to all the times their parents would make Jack take Luke out with him and his friends, and all the times he was made to wait on his older brother hand and foot to make up for crashing his hang-outs.

“I’m not asking you to tag along,” Jack scoffs, “You third-wheeling would be the ultimate buzz-kill. I thought you could be of use elsewhere.”

“You’re making whatever it is sound so fun.” 

Luke takes his swing, driving the ball and watching it soar to his desired point with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Jack watches too, stepping to Luke’s side to measure how far from his own ball it lands.

“Nice,” he mutters appreciatively as the two of them load their clubs into their stand bags. “I need you to keep Regina George busy, distract her or something, she’s stuck to Ellie like glue, it’s beyond annoying.”

If only he knew, Luke thinks, a worry in the back of his mind about how his brother owes more to you than he even realises. 

“You worried she’s gonna make her see sense?”

Jack swats at his arm and rolls his eyes.

“I’m worried she’s gonna ruin the good vibes like she usually does and I won’t be able to bite my tongue from saying something and looking like the asshole.”

Distracting you isn’t the worst thing he could be doing with his time, Luke thinks. It’s not like he has to go all out, you’ll no doubt be hanging out around the house and the two of you can hang together. All he has to do is keep you off your phone. Shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve adapted pretty well to mimicking the guys when it comes to staying off theirs.

It ticks off the box of trying to fight for a scrap of your attention. With no one else around, you’ll have no choice but to entertain his company.

And it puts him in front of your little race - lending a helping hand to Jack’s plans to talk to Ellie is surely the same as getting them together. It’s all falling so perfectly into his lap. He isn’t being lazy.

But he can’t let Jack know that, so he heaves out a sigh and offers a slow shake of his head for dramatic effect. “Fine,” he groans, “But you owe me. Big time.”

You’re starting to find it harder and harder to pretend like you don’t want to be at the Lake House.

If you’re being honest, you don’t entirely know why you’re even trying to keep up pretences, but using your disinterest as armour has become like second nature over the years, and you’re hardly going to stop now.

Even if there are already so many little things about being there that are starting to wear you down.

Quiet, early mornings, for one - birds chirping just outside your open window, sun rays pouring in through sheer curtains that flow in the slight breeze, that light feeling that blows through your chest when you’re sat out on the deck behind the house with a fresh cup of coffee, looking out over the still lake and basking in the peace of it all.

And even when it’s not so peaceful, when the kitchen is full of bodies swerving around each other to try and throw together some sort of breakfast spread - pastries and fruit, bacon and eggs, various boxes of cereal on the counter. Quinn had even made a whole batch of pancakes one morning, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t come down every day since hoping to see him donning that same frilly apron that Cole had draped around his waist and working his magic with a pan. 

You’ve never really been a part of such a full house. You had been an only child for so long - and by the time your parents split, and it was just you and your mom, on the days she wasn’t already at work when you got up - and were so ingrained in your own routine in the morning that you think you might actually need the chaos to function better. The rush of bodies, the arguments over who drank the last of the juice, the bickering over who’s turn it is to do the next grocery run - it’s a kind of entertainment you haven’t been privy to in a long time. 

Being kind of disconnected from everything else isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, either. You’re not attached to your phone, checking socials to see what everyone else is doing, to see if your dad has sent any messages yet this summer, and you find yourself connecting a little more with the people around you and leaving your family stress on the back burner. You’re more focused on what’s in front of you, and your relationships with other people. With Ellie, with some of the guys in the house, with your friends at work, even.

And it’s nice to be closer to work too. You don’t have to rush around trying to make the bus - Luke has been keeping his word and driving you to the club most days, and where he can’t, either somebody else has offered, or you’ve just ridden one of the bikes in the garage that the boys said were free to use - the helmet hair is an easy fix when you have access to the locker rooms.

It’s an adjustment, for sure, getting used to being in a full house. Especially this one - with a constant revolving door of faces, friends of the brothers switching out week by week to come and stay, departing just as you’ve started getting to know them with a promise of dropping by again soon.

So far, you’re almost at double-digits for the names you’ve had to memorise. Some of them you were already familiar with, guys from Michigan who you already knew or knew of, but others were more Jack or Quinn’s friends that you’d never had the pleasure of meeting before now.

Cole Caufield being one of them. 

He had arrived a couple of days after you and Ellie moved yourselves in, closer to Jack than the other two brothers, you had noticed, and was going to be staying longer than any of the other visitors - having his own designated room in the house, similar to you girls.

You like Cole - he’s good fun, can take a joke unlike his supposed best friend, and has the kind of smile that almost gives you a buzz whenever it’s flashed your way. Your first few interactions with him were seemingly pleasant, despite Jack constantly in his ear with a hardened glare pointed your way and no doubt unsavoury words uttered. Cole would just shrug him off, laugh, meet your eyes and drop a wink your way - a gesture you’d usually squirm and cringe at, but Cole kind of pulls it off. 

He joins in when you chirp Luke, too - which, if your honest, is your main source of entertainment since arriving, so your interactions with him grow day by day.

You haven’t really spent any one-on-one time with Cole yet, though. You were hoping to, before he left to visit home for the weekend - for no other reason than to get the scoop on something you’d happened upon at work last week - and had planned on asking him to hang out on your day off. But with Cole now gone for a few days, Jack and Ellie off doing god knows what, Quinn and Luke working out wherever, you have no choice but to spend your free Sunday lounging around the house, trying to find something to suppress your growing boredom.

You start with your nails, painting them a summery orangey-red and doing your toes to match, then do your laundry, abiding by house rules that you rotate the loads between the machines, and fold out whoever’s clothes were last in the dryer and place them in the hamper on the side. 

You’re hoping you haven’t had to fold Jack’s underwear but you decide to live in blissful ignorance - trying to identify the load based on the rest of the clothing in there is impossible when they all share, so it kind of works in your favour. 

You FaceTime your mom for almost an hour, getting an update on what she’s been up to with work, and giving her updates on how your summer is going, trying to focus on your time at the club and Ellie so she doesn’t worry too much again that you’re spending your summer in a house filled with boys. 

And by the time Luke and Quinn come back from their workout, you’re in the lounge, 50 pages deep into a book you really couldn’t care less about, but there’s something in you that refuses to beg one of them for company, so you suffer in silence.

Even when Luke does join you, throwing himself down onto the opposite side of the couch you’re occupying and pushing your feet off his side like it’s his sole purpose just to annoy you.

“I was comfortable there, asshat,” you frown, lifting your feet back into their previous position and using one to give him a light kick to his thigh.

“Yeah, well, I hardly want your feet all up in my business while I’m trying to relax,” he sighs, sinking into the cushions with hands clasped behind his head, biceps flexing and tightening the arms of his t-shirt in a way that momentarily catches your eye. You’re thankful for his closed eyes, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you divert your attention back to the mundane words on the pages in front of you.

“And yet here you are when there are 2 other couches.”

“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to be near me.”

You try to ignore him, pulling your feet a little closer to your body and focusing back on the book, but it’s hard when Luke has such a presence. You feel the little looks he keeps sending your way like a physical touch, and the couch shifts with every slight movement he makes, so when he constantly shuffles, you start to think he wants your attention.

Of course he wants your attention. This is Luke Hughes.

“Are you just sitting down here to annoy me?”

He lights up, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask, and shuffles in his seat to face you, fully, bouncing in place like a puppy being teased with a tennis ball. 

“I’m actually trying to distract you, if you must know.”

“Bold of you to assume you have enough of my attention to be distracting in the first place,” you scoff, trying not to react to the way he smirks in your peripheral, the words in front of you all blurring together. If you were actually focused on them, you’d have lost your place, already.

“I think you pay more attention to me than you’d like to admit.”

“That’s some ego you’ve got on you, Hughes,” you narrow your eyes as you look above the edge of your book, “Is that what you spend that big NHL paycheque on, charisma classes? How to flirt for dummies?”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Flirting?”

Damn. You walked yourself right into that one. 

Sometimes biting back at Luke comes like second nature, words first, thoughts after - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it that way. It’s easy, the back and forth, and you can’t really think of an instance with him where you’ve sat in a lingering, awkward silence. You’ve really grown to hate silence, lately.

“You wish.”

“You think I’m charismatic,” he teases in a sing-song voice, knocking at your knee and wiggling his eyebrows when you glare at him. 

“I think you’re an idiot.”

“You’re not gonna ask what I’m distracting you from?”

“I don’t really care,” you lie, eyes darting back down and diverting the attention he so desperately craves away from him.

“Jack wanted to take Ellie out on the boat.” He says, ignoring your attempts to ignore him - pushing your buttons like a full time job. Like an operator for your last nerve.

“Good for her.”

“Alone.”

“No shit.”

“To ask her out.”

“Whoop-de-doo.”

“Whoop-de-,” Luke straightens up, like a whack-a-mole with his head positioning itself over the top of your book, and you kind of wish you had one of those soft mallets right about now. It would be so satisfying to bonk at his head, you think. “What do you mean, whoop-de-doo, is this not what you agreed to be here for? To get them together?”

You scoff, flicking to the next page of the book in feigned disinterest. “He isn’t asking her out today.”

This is the exact something you had wanted to talk to Cole about - whispers in the staff lounge at work earlier in the week doing the rounds would imply otherwise, but your main source is kind of a gossip, and you’re not entirely sure of their reliability, despite the few degrees of separation to the subject at hand. 

Mutterings of Jack and Cole and their little country club connections. 

You can hardly ask Luke of all people if his brother is as much of a man-whore as everyone is making out. Cole was a safe bet - he’d probably just tell you straight up what they’re up to, wear his pride like a shining gold medal. He’s upfront about his promiscuity, at least. Luke is more protective. Of himself, of his family, you’re not entirely sure. There haven’t been as many whispers about him. 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because he’s a spineless idiot,” you retort, eyes flicking up momentarily to take in his furrowed brow. “No offence,” comes out of nowhere, and you surprise yourself with the instinct to lessen the blow of your words for the first time in forever.

“None taken, he’s only my flesh and blood,” Luke huffs, “You’re just jealous I’m winning our bet.”

“Sure,” you drawl, eyes widening to emphasise the sarcasm as you make a point of angling your head to the next page, like you’ve taken a single word in for the past five minutes. “He’s been talking to one of the girls from work. There’s no way he’s doing that and asking Ellie out, unless he’s completely brain dead.”

And when you look back at Luke, that furrowed brow has shifted into a full blown frown, pouted lips and eyes cast down as if he’s trying to figure everything out in his head. 

It’s probably the pout that has you cushioning your words, once more.

“Again, no offence, I doubt it’s in your DNA.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m no bio student but I don’t think there’s a genetic marker for being a fuckboy.”

“No, about him talking to one of the girls at the club. He didn’t tell me that.”

Why does he have to sound like that? Let down and unsure, quieter than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s like the tone he carries goes straight to your fingers, clasping the book closed without marking your page - because what business do you have carrying on that charade?

“Do you guys tell each other everything?” You ask as you throw the book until it lands on the coffee table with a gentle thud, shuffling until you’re sat against the arm of the couch with knees bent in front of you, giving him your undivided attention and feeling guilty that it might not be enough.

“I thought we did,” he scratches at the back of his head, nervously, “He literally told me yesterday he was taking her out to talk about stuff, why would he make a point of asking me to keep you busy if he’s not serious about asking her out?”

“You don’t want to hear my answer to a question about your brother not being serious.” 

“Who’s the girl?” He asks, ignoring your comment despite the slight ghost of a smile you see flash into the corner of his mouth. 

“Jessica, she works at the pro shop, apparently they’ve been texting all summer.”

You know for a fact that since you’ve started paying attention, you’ve seen Jack on his phone a lot for a guy who chirps you for your own screen-time, and who has enforced the house rule of no phones outside your room like a prison guard yells out no touching at visitation. So it sort of checks out. You’ve tried to sneak a peak, but he’s protective of his stuff like a yappy little dog with attachment issues at the best of times, so you haven’t really put too much effort into it.

“There were a few people talking about it in the lounge at work the other day,” you shrug, “One of the girls talking about it is Jess’ best friend, so not exactly from the horse’s mouth, but I don’t think she’d be spreading lies about her friend around like that.”

“Can you find out?”

“You ask that like I haven’t been trying.” That gets a full smile, a small chuckle that lifts his shoulder, even, “I was gonna grill Caufield about it but he’s gone. But I know you guys have plans when he gets back tomorrow, so if you want to take Cole I’ll hack away at the grape vine at the club?”

“Does this mean we’re teammates?” 

“No. It absolutely does not.”

Hacking away at the grapevine is really a lot more like plucking absentmindedly at an overgrown patch of grass when it comes to workplace gossip. 

By the end of your shift, you’re leaving the club with a fist clutched full of loose blades, fingers stained green from the amount of information people were willing to ‘fess up.

Liam who works behind the bar had overheard a conversation where Jack had mentioned Jessica, but could only give you useless tidbits, like how he had to stop by the shop for a new putter, and Jess had been the one to ring him up.

Hardly incriminating, but you had a feeling it would be a small piece of a way larger puzzle. That, and guys are notoriously useless at gossiping, there’s definitely more to that story than Liam could even comprehend in his tiny man brain.

Cassidy who works at the front desk had seen Jack and Jess talking in the main lobby last week, definitely flirting, she had said - with hair flips and giggles galore - and way too familiar to be new. 

Much better.

Paola who has the alternative shifts in the pro shop was more than willing to take up ten minutes of your time ranting how Jess’ work is never fully done when it comes to a handover, and she spends half her time on her phone. Kiran, who works the bev cart every Monday, said Jack is always one of the most charming in their golfing group, so it’s no surprise if he is exchanging texts with girls from the club. 

You get dirt from most corners of the place, and it leads you all the way back to your station, to reservations set for the restaurant, where tonight’s list - unfortunately a shift you’re not set to work, although you very much question the serendipity of that - has Jack’s name down at 7pm. A table for 2 in the back corner, shielded from prying eyes and intimate.

And if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already worked a full shift, you would consider staying just to get the full scoop. 

You know Ellie isn’t going to be the one sat across from him, she’s been sending you pictures all day of her various hauls for her quiet night in. New paints and pencils, a sketchpad, some candles - she has all intentions of working on her watercolour technique.

So it has to be for him and Jessica.

Imagine his face, you think, picturing wide, panicked eyes as you roam up to his table to take his order. He’d actually crap his pants. 

But, it’s another set of eyes that you picture when you start to enjoy the scheming a little too much. The sad, teary eyes of your best friend, when she finds out the guy she’s been hung up on for half her life, who she has all but convinced herself isn’t interested, and is - absurdly - ‘far too good’ for her - yeah, right - is dating other girls while taking her out on not-so-platonic boat dates only the day before. A boat date that she had come back to your room, flung herself onto her belly on the bed, and kicked her feet as she gushed all about it. 

So you make your way back to the house after a long day, and resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to, yet again, get all your information on Jack’s date second hand.

You primed Cara, your colleague in the restaurant, to keep an eye out, and she promised to send updates on her breaks, and you have been holed up in yours and Ellie’s shared bedroom trying to keep her busy when there is a persistent knock at the door, and a mop of soft, curly brown hair pokes in before his eyes meet yours.

“Hey, Luke!” Ellie chimes, cheery and all too blissfully unaware of the potentially horrific circumstances you’ve stumbled upon. “You need to borrow my conditioner again?”

You scoff from your position on the bed, watching a slight pink hue flush up Luke’s neck.

“What? No,” he denies, running a hand through his hair and seemingly frowning a little at the way it feels. “I’m going to the store, wondered if either of you needed anything?”

“Nah, thanks, we’re good,” Ellie smiles, attention diverting straight back to where she’s drawing in her sketchbook, missing the way Luke widens his eyes and tilts his head as if to encourage you to take him up on his offer.

“Can I come with?” You shuffle from your position on the bed, swinging your legs out from beneath you and over the side as Ellie looks back at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted something.”

“Someone’s got to show the poor guy what’s what on the haircare aisle, El.”

And you’re thankful that Ellie has settled herself in for the evening already by 6:45, showered, pyjamas on, otherwise she might have tried to tag along, too, just for something to do.

You swipe her phone before she can notice and hide it under your pillow before you leave, thinking it might reduce the risk of her getting bored and texting Jack, or, worse, checking his location.

A trip out gives you the chance for you and Luke to debrief each other on your findings of the day - or, as it turns out, just you, because Luke Hughes might be the worst information-gatherer on planet Earth.

Finding his life’s niche in hockey is fortunate, because he definitely wouldn’t cut it as an investigator.

“He just said he didn’t know anything,” Luke shrugs of his earlier encounter with Cole, and you try not to gape at him in disbelief as he fiddles with the screen in his BMW, scrolling through the interface in search of the nearest store. 

You swat his hand away with a scoff, typing in a destination, “And you believed him?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“You’re about as useless as a chocolate teapot, Hughes. What is it with guys and gossip, are you all really that dumb?”

“That’s the address for the club,” he points out, ignoring your jibe as he starts driving.

“Well done, you can read.”

“Why?”

“Because, thankfully, one of us is a good detective.” You snark, “Jack’s there.”

“So?”

“He’s on a date.”

“No he isn’t,” Luke frowns, attention momentarily taken from the road as he looks over at you. “I’ve been with him all afternoon, he would have told me if he had a date, tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d he say he was going when he left, earlier?”

He hadn’t been home when you got back from work, but that had been around an hour ago. You figured if he was sneaky enough to book into the restaurant when you’re not working, he’d have his wits about him to avoid you, entirely. Whenever the two of you cross paths, you can’t help but try get on his last nerve, and he’s hardly going to want to start his evening in a foul mood.

“To get his hair cut.”

Jesus Christ, you think, he’s so lucky he’s cute.

“You’re so clueless. He’s at the lounge with Jessica, the girl I told you about yesterday.”

“And what are we supposed to do about that?”

“We’re gonna supervise. And maybe interfere, if necessary.” 

You don’t really have a plan, but it seems like the right thing to at least get a look in as to what the hell Jack thinks he’s doing, especially if you’re going to carry on with this whole plan of getting him and Ellie together. If he’s seriously entertaining other girls while making out to Luke that he only has eyes for Ellie, your plans might have to change. You’re not sure if Luke will be on board with the new path you’re willing to take, but you’ll be happy to kill his brother on your own.

“Interfere?” Luke’s eyes are wide, but he keeps them on the road, fingers flexing against the wheel. “I just came out for chips to make nachos, not play spies!”

“Cara’s working tonight, she said she’d keep an eye on them for me. I bet if I cover her hosting shift on Friday she’d sabotage their date. We’d just have to sit back and watch.”

“Oh,” Luke’s brows furrow, as if it’s taking any consideration at all to mess with his brother. “You really are an evil genius.”

You try not to think too hard about who’s been spewing that rhetoric already in his ear, and instead you smile when he casts his eyes your way, proud and pleased. 

“Thank you.”

It takes another 15 minutes to get to the club, considering Luke’s best Driving Miss Daisy impression, so their date is already underway by the time Cara is ushering you to a booth in the far corner, where you can see Jack’s table, but he shouldn’t be able to see yours, and agreeing to play along.

“Can I get you guys any drinks?” She asks as she hands over two menus, and you’re too interested in trying to gauge the vibe at the other table while Luke looks over his.

“Two diet cokes, shaved ice, no lemon,” he says, and you can’t help but frown at the way the specificity of that order rolls so easily off his tongue. That’s your order.

“Any food?”

“Could we just get some nachos, please?” You ask, sliding your menu across the table without even looking, not wanting to give Luke too much of a chance to peruse his own out of fear you’ll be here all night. “And extra picante on the side.”

“Extra guac, too,” Luke adds as Cara scribbles the instructions on her notepad, “And some of those chicken tenders, and extra ranch. And maybe some fries. Yeah, chilli fries. And breadsticks.”

You level him with a glare, already proven right in your decision not to give him too much time to think about what he wanted. He’ll order every appetiser on the menu, if given half the chance. 

“Thanks, Cara, that’s everything.”

“Sure thing, should be around fifteen minutes. They only just ordered,” she points her pen back to Jack’s table, where Jess is leaning onto the table and Jack is leaning back in his seat - heavy on the distance but even heavier on the eye contact. That little shit.

“Does he have any allergies?” You lean onto your own table to ask Luke, quirking a brow up when his eyes darken in response, mischief swirling in his emerald irises.

“Absolutely not,” Cara interjects, “I’m doing this so you cover my job, not make me lose it.”

“Let me guess, he ordered the steak, medium-rare?” Luke asks, and she nods, hesitantly. “Char it.”

“Won’t he complain?”

“He’ll just grumble to himself about how tough it is. It’ll put him in a bad mood. That’s what we want, right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding your head to ease Cara’s worries despite what you really want is for Chef Michael to poison the cut, entirely. If Jack Hughes wants to play with your best friend’s heart, you’ll play with his gut. But you can settle for burnt meat. Luke can work some sort of magic with that, you think, convincing Jack of all people that any first date that resulted in him coming home all sour-puss and sulky should never result in a second. “Bad mood. Bingo.”

“Fine,” Cara grumbles, “But if he even thinks about asking for a manager, you’re covering my next 3 Fridays.”

She storms off to the kitchen, and you and Luke simultaneously sink into your seats, attention immediately diverted back to the table in the opposite corner of the room.

“We should have kept the menus,” Luke mutters from across the booth, “Could have hidden behind them.”

“What are we, children?” You snark, “You can’t think of any more creative ways to stay hidden?”

“I heard PDA makes people pretty uncomfortable,” he leans onto the table, dropping you a wink when you glance over out of the side of your eye, “We should make out to throw everyone off the scent.”

“In your dreams, Hughes.”

Luke sort of envies the charm you hold over people.

The way you can convince people to do your bidding with a mere flutter of your eyelashes or a flash of pearly teeth and a glimmer in your irises.

He has trouble, sometimes, skirting around his honesty or hiding his intentions - and he knows that’s not a bad thing, knows that being clear and truthful is an admirable trait, if anything - but the way you persuade others to bend to your whim with intricate white lies based on observations you’ve made or intel you’ve gathered is a praiseworthy level of genius. 

It had taken such minimal effort for you to get Cara on side, to convince her that being a little clumsy is hardly grounds for her termination, and spilling a little of Jack’s drink close to the edge of the table - close enough that it drips onto his pants and Luke can see the steams of frustration exuding from his brother’s skin from all the way on the other side of the restaurant - or bumping her hip on the edge of their table every time she passes are really just harmless irritations, not likely to cause actual complaint. 

You had used the mere tone of your voice to convince Liam from behind the bar to squeeze a little lime in Jack’s water, knowing just from observing him back at the house that he hates the taste, face curling in disgust at even the slightest hint of it, and Luke had watched your eyes gleam in delight every time Jack took a sip of his drink and tried not to spit it back out, seeking much needed reprieve to swallow down the world’s toughest steak cut. 

You’d even worked your magic on him, pouting your lips when the food had arrived at the table, and he had initially declined to share his chicken tenders with you - your grumblings at him ordering enough to feed the five thousand fresh in his memory, but so easily wiped away by the soft, sad look in your eyes, and your whining of, “But I didn’t realise how hungry I’d get. Plotting and scheming is hard work, Luke.”

You ended up eating half, but he could hardly complain - you were doing the heavy lifting out of the two of you.

He was sitting back and enjoying the show - enjoying your company, if he’s honest. Enjoying the way his gangly limbs would sometimes knock into yours under the table, enjoying the way he kept getting little nuggets of information out of you while you were distracted, sipping at your coke and making little comments about yourself, about your life, without even realising you’re doing it. 

And an unplanned, pseudo date ends up being the first time he thinks he’s had a glimpse at the real you.

The you who knows more about hockey than you’ve ever let on before, who comes back to his stories with contextual questions about the game, even has references to a few games of his back at Michigan, and keeps the conversation flowing despite your feigned disinterest, and a constant gaze cast his brother’s way.

That would usually drive him crazy.

He’s experienced it so often that he has come to expect it, people only entertaining his company to acquire the attention of his brothers, but that’s not what you’re doing. Not really.

You pay more attention to Luke than you’d ever let on.

You ask him about his time in Ostrava at the beginning of summer, even though he’s only mentioned being overseas once while you’ve been staying with him - an offhanded comment from Quinn at breakfast that you must have taken on. Ask him about all the food he tried while out there, when he mentions he doesn’t like picante, and you use it as a springboard to talk about what sort of spices he does like, or if he’s the type to try things or stick to what he knows. 

You ask him about being the youngest sibling, and it stems from an offhanded comment Luke had grumbled about always being the last to be clued in on stuff, about how Jack had probably confided in Quinn about his extracurricular activities at the club, and didn’t trust him enough to let him in on the fact he’s going out on dates. You ask if he usually figures things out himself before he’s told them, if that’s what makes him so good at observing and analysing stuff, and he hadn’t ever realised he was particularly good at those things before you brought it up. But then you reference a day in class one time, where he had picked up on something in a textbook that you never would have figured out in a million years, and his heart leaps at the praise you don’t even realise you’re giving him.

You sandwich your perceptions in your usual snark, but he doesn’t miss the slight curve of your lips anymore when he bites straight back, knowing now that there is some part of you that feels the nip of his teeth, that acknowledges his existence beyond him being a speck of inconvenience in your peripheral.

And he gets a little carried away in that acknowledgement - stops paying attention himself to what is happening on the other side of the room and tries to focus on what’s in front of him; the girl he pined after his entire college career, sat sharing nachos and pretending not to know him at a level you so clearly do.

You must get carried away, too, because neither of you notice Jack’s date wrapping up until Luke catches him hand his card over to Cara.

He’s lost count of how long the two of you have been at the club, now - way longer than it takes to get chips from the store, that’s for sure - and all he does know is that if Jack catches either of you two here, after a night of mishaps, bad food, spilled drinks and Cara’s incessant clumsiness, he’ll know who’s to blame. 

“We better get out of here before he sees us,” Luke sighs, not entirely wanting to wrap up his time with you but knowing he doesn’t really have a choice.

“I’ve just got to pick something up before we head back,” you reply, edging out of the booth at the same time Luke does, “I’ll meet you out front just give me two minutes?”

“Be quick,” he tells you before you scurry off, and he flags down Cara, who tells him you already put your bill on your worker tab. He tells her to switch it to his, and that he’ll drop by tomorrow to pay it off, promising to leave her a good tip for her stellar services for the evening. 

He waits where you asked him to, making sure to stick to the side of the entryway where he can duck for cover if his brother makes an appearance - but you show up first, skipping out from the staff lounge with a bag of tortilla chips in hand.

“Let’s go, Lukey boy!” He follows you out like a puppy on a leash, all the way to where his car is parked, almost bumping into you when you stop and turn without warning, stretching your hand out to him. “Give me your keys.”

“Are you crazy?” He snorts, “You’re not driving my car!”

“I know a shortcut!” You reason, stepping forward and making a grabby motion with your fingers, “We gotta beat Jack home, I just paid another server $20 to spill a whole drink on him before he leaves and he’s gonna be pissed. I want to see the meltdown back at the house and you drive like a nun!”

Luke doesn’t know why he gives in so easy - it could be the proximity, the way you’re so close you have to look up at him, eyes twinkling softly under the moonlight, voice carrying over to him like a siren song, or it could just be because he’s weak - but he hands his keys over with a roll of his eyes and climbs into the passenger side, sliding the seat back with a huff to accommodate his long legs and watching as you adjust the driver’s side, cringing at the way he’s gonna have to figure out exactly how he had it before.

You drive like a maniac, to the point where Luke has to screw his eyes shut as you use some back road, can hear the squelch of mud beneath his tires and squirms at the thought of having to take it to the car wash, tomorrow. 

But you make it back to the lake house much quicker than if he were driving, he’ll give you that. So quick that you feel comfortable enough to turn to him once you’ve pulled up, in no rush to unbuckle and get out to get inside before Jack gets home.

“Just so we’re clear, this is a point under my name. You’re not claiming tonight as a win.”

Luke chuckles, turning in his seat to face you, features illuminated by the dim overhead light that turns on when the engine switches off and a slight flush of exhilaration to your cheeks. There’s no pretending you haven’t enjoyed yourself, not tonight. “But the steak thing was my idea?”

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be sat watching baseball and thinking he was getting a 3 hour haircut, you can’t seriously be trying to steal this from me, I thought you athletes had integrity!”

“You’re really keeping score?”

“You’re not?”

If Luke’s honest, he hasn’t really thought about your whole wager all night. He’s been too wrapped up in the idea that his brother had lied to him. Twice. And now his whole plan for the two of you all summer has potentially been messed up. But hearing you mention it, hearing you talk about it like it hasn’t been flushed down the toilet by his brother’s idiocy sparks something in him - excitement, anticipation. He doesn’t want to let this go.

“I actually think we made a good team back there,” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours to gauge your reaction to the thought of doing this together.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re gonna lose,” you retort, eyes sparkling with those same sentiments he had just felt. 

“Probably,” he acquiesces, “Also ‘cause you kind of scare me a little after tonight, last thing I wanna do is go up against you when you have the power to turn half the country club against me.”

You smirk, and his eyes are drawn to the plush curve of your lips, watching them as they form around the softly spoken words, “God forbid you can’t go a round of golf without your caddy breaking down.”

“Exactly.” He mutters back, glad to see your gaze is still zeroed in on him when he meets it again. He can feel the thump thump thump of his pulse in his ears, and takes a deep breath before proposing, “Partners?”

He cocks a brow and holds his pinky out over the centre console, and you eye the digit, sceptically, narrowing your eyes into a glare before raising them to meet his. “Fine,” you grumble, then hook your little finger through his and tighten it to shake, a slight yelp of surprise filling the car when he tugs, your lax arm giving way until your knuckle touches his lips and he kisses it.

“Ew,” you whine, snatching your finger back as he fills the space himself with a hearty chuckle, wiping it on his hoody in disgust. “That’s gross!”

“No take backs,” he smiles, victorious, with his chest puffed out, primed for you to swat at with the flex of your hand, and the two of you are only pulled out of the moment by the sound of tyres pulling up on the gravel behind you, both of you stumbling to unbuckle yourselves and climb out of the car. 

Jack is exiting his own vehicle behind, and stomps down the driveway, shouldering past you until he realises who he has passed, turning back and looking at you with suspicion cast across his features. 

“Where have you twobeen?” Jack asks, glancing a curious eye between the two of you before meeting Luke’s gaze, levelling him with an inquisitive glare.

“We went to the store for chips,” Luke holds the bag up, the crinkle loud enough for Jack to hear, and he feels an insurgence rising within him, spurred on by the way his brother is looking at him like he’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions. “Nice haircut.”

Jack runs a hand through his hair, surprise crossing his features in a brief flash at the call out, like he had never even expected Luke to notice his hair looks no different to the last time he saw him mere hours ago, like he would never even need to question his alibi.

“Oh, yeah, I got the day wrong. Went out for dinner instead.”

“On your own?” You ask from beside him, your presence giving Luke the kind of back up he very much needs right now, a new target for Jack’s narrowed eyes that takes the heat off of him a little, lessens the burden of lying to his brother - despite Jack being the one who started it, it doesn’t make Luke feel any less bad, doesn’t quell the need to word vomit and admit to all the ludicrous things he had done to ruin Jack’s night. “You end up having a little accident there, bud?”

Luke tries not to outwardly laugh as his attention is diverted to the wet patch that still soaks up the front of Jack’s pants, lips quivering as he presses them together, oblivious to the steam pouring out of his brother’s ears as he immediately gets riled up. 

“One of your esteemed colleagues at the club apparently lacks hand eye co-ordination. Plus, some of us like our own company,” Jack scoffs, “Some of us can go an evening without the need to annoy anybody else.”

“It’s not news to me that you’re in love with yourself, dude,” you retort back, entirely unbothered by his jibes. “Bet you’ve got all sorts of riveting thoughts swirling around that ginormous head of yours, must keep you busy for hours on end.”

“At least I have thoughts, at least I’m not some airheaded-,”

“Hey,” Luke’s tone is authoritative when he calls out, stern and demanding, “Cut it out, Jack.”

“She started it!”

“She asked you a question,” Luke frowns, disappointed with how quick his brother had taken to escalating the situation, all in an attempt to deflect the attention from his own deception. He knows you don’t need him to protect you from Jack’s sharp tongue, knows you can very much defend yourself, but he needs to vent his frustrations, somehow, without causing a bust up on the driveway. “You could have just give her a straight answer without biting her head off.”

He feels like you’re a little closer, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know it’s the slight brush of your arm against his or if it’s something else, something less tangible - but it warms him, all the same. Steadies the static thump of his heart in his chest at the thought of starting an argument with his brother out of nowhere. 

“Whatever,” Jack rolls his eyes, “I’m going to bed.”

And as Jack turns, Luke sees your lips part, ready to send him off with the last word until a large hand clamps itself over your mouth, and your wide eyes meet his over the sides of his fingers.

He’s not sure why he did it, why he all of a sudden feels comfortable enough to cross the boundaries of purposeful touch, but he doesn’t entirely regret it.

Plush lips press mid-word against his palm, and your skin is soft, cheeks warming ever so slightly beneath his hand.

“You gotta let him go, there’s no use fighting with him tonight, it’s better to drag it out. Didn’t think I’d have to teach you about the beauty of the long game,” he says, voice low as he watches his brother retreat to the house, waiting until he’s safe inside to retract his hand. “Not like this, anyway.”

“Your brother’s an asshole,” you grumble, “Full offence.”

“No arguments from me,” Luke concedes, holding his hands as if surrendering to the fact, himself. “What are you gonna tell Ellie?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, stepping a little down the drive and toward the house before turning back to him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, partner.”

There have only been a handful of times in your life you’ve ever been thankful for work coinciding with huge plans, but when the group had decided that they wanted to go see Zach Bryan play Ford Field, you had thanked your lucky stars you had been put down to work a full shift at the restaurant and wouldn’t be able to go.

Not only for the fact that he isn’t really your thing, but for the fact that you’re finally getting a full evening to yourself.

So far, in your time at the house, most evenings have been spent with everyone else - group dinners, game nights, movie nights, even a couple of girls nights with just you and Ellie scattered in there, but nothing on your own, yet. 

You can’t wait. And with an empty house, you have a full pamper night planned. You’ve been stocking up odd bits on your trips to the store over the past couple of weeks - sheet masks, aromatherapy candles, you’ve even picked up some flower petals from the spa at the club, in the hopes that you might even treat yourself to a relaxing soak in the bathtub. You can play whatever music you want, make whatever food you want, sit wherever you want in the house, out on the deck, overlooking the lake with a book in hand and no chirpy voices in your ear all night.

You can’t wait.

The only downside is not having a ride home, but you haven’t finished too late. The sun will still be up for a couple of hours, and a walk in the simmering heat back to the house doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Your feet carry you with ease down the back roads, and you even make the journey without your headphones on, taking in the scenery, the blissful peace of your surroundings, so lost in the tranquility of it all that the sight of Luke washing his car on the drive when you get home dampens your mood as quick as a torrential downpour of rain, flash floods coursing through your evening and wrecking your plans entirely. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You can’t help the bite in your tone as you approach, sneakers crunching against the gravel as Luke pauses the hose, looks over at you with the sun in his eyes, and you have to remind yourself he’s just ruined the one night you have for yourself before you get distracted by the fact that he’s shirtless.

“Washing my car?” he calls back, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Detroit right now?”

Luke shrugs, and you have to will your eyeballs not to move any lower than his neck to watch his shoulders lift and drop, lest you get too caught up in the broad expanse of his chest and do something ridiculous like drool.

“Wasn’t feeling it.”

“You weren’t feeling a concert you guys haven’t shut up about for weeks, but you were feeling washing your car?”

He’s dead. When he’s finished with his car and he retreats to his room, you’re gonna smother him with a pillow and discard of his body in the lake. You’re not even gonna let him shower, first. That’s what the lake’s for.

He’s crapping all over your plans because he wasn’t feeling it?

“It needs cleaning,” he shrugs again, and you swear you’re gonna jump in and run him over with the damn thing, “In fact, you really should be helping me.”

There’s a small part of you that feels like the thoughts of violence are worryingly aggressive, but then a larger part of you realises he must have a death wish.

“How’d you get to that conclusion?”

“You’re the one who drove us through a swamp,” he scoffs, a pointed hand flung toward the body of his car, where the sides are lined with a thick layer of dried dirt from the other night, “You get it dirty, you clean it up.”

“As much as I would absolutely love to fulfil your pervy car wash fantasy, I have much better things I could be doing with my time.”

Or you did, until Luke rained all over your parade of solitude.

“Like what?”

“Literally anything but this.” You gesture at the show he’s putting on. The suds dripping from the roof of the car, the hose in his hand, the buckets scattered around the perimeter. “I need to shower, I just walked from the club and I-,”

A death wish might actually be an understatement.

Luke wants you to murder him in the most gruesome, horrific way you could possibly muster - he has to, because there’s no other explanation for why he’d turn the hose on, point it straight at you, and drench the front of you, entirely. 

You can feel the fabric of your t-shirt dampening and sticking to your chest, and you scrunch your eyes shut to stop droplets of water slipping into them, thankful that when they open again, his own are looking back at you, and not any lower.

You’d really have a reason to kill him, then. 

“You did not just do that.” You growl, glaring back at him with a clenched jaw as the fucker beams back at you, pressing the trigger once more in a short burst that fires straight at your chest, again.

“What, that?”

“You’re so dead.”

You drop your bag and launch for him, aiming to take the hose from his grip, but he fires it again out of sheer panic, the water spouting out from between your splayed fingers, cold and pressured, and it soaks the both of you, raining down as you grapple for the head and Luke remains unrelenting.

There are squeals and yelps called out into the misty air between the two of you, and you get to a point you can’t tell what sounds are coming from who, but you manage to wrestle the hose from his grip and point it straight at him as he jets away with a laugh that rumbles straight from his belly.

It’s the kind of laugh that elicits another, and you don’t realise until he’s circling back to you that the laughter is coming from you - giggling, even, as the two of you engage in a water fight like misbehaving children - and it isn’t long until all aggressive thoughts wash away with the suds that slip to the gravel, forgetting why you were even annoyed in the first place.

It shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but after the long day at work, and the tiring walk back, letting your guard down and engaging it a little mindless chaos seems to wake you up a little.

Your childish game gets Luke what he wanted, anyway, the two of you working together to clean his car when you realise he’s only running in front of all the parts that actually need hosing off and relying on you having bad aim to get the job done, and you figure getting your hands a little dirty is harmless when you’re already soaked through and in dire need of a shower.

And your pamper-plans of a bubble bath and self-care don’t entirely come to fruition, but Luke promises to make up for his petulance by ordering pizza and sticking a movie on, so you bite your tongue to refrain from voicing your initial complaints, and decide to just go with the flow, for once - he hasn’t exactly led you astray, yet.  

You take a little longer in the shower than normal, with no one around to complain about hogging the bathroom or worry about them barging in unannounced, and you suppose that’s a small victory - one little luxury you get to cling to as you bask in the steam, letting all the tension slip from your aching muscles after being on your feet all day.

And once you’re out, hair dried just enough with a towel that it isn’t going to drip or soak your t-shirt, and you’re dressed in your pyjamas, you make your way downstairs, where Luke has already set up a plethora of snacks in the living room.

Nachos, popcorn, candy and drinks scattered across the coffee table as he relaxes on the couch, hair extra curly after his shower and an old Michigan t-shirt stretched tight across his now much-broader chest. 

“Thought I’d wait for you to pick a movie,” he chimes up from where he’s sat, gesturing with a lazy point to the wall of blu-rays beside the TV. 

“Did Netflix never make it to the Hughes household?” You scoff in disbelief as you take them all in properly for the first time. You’d seen them in your peripheral when you’d been hanging out down here, before, but actually looking at them up close, reading all the titles, seeing the sheer volume of how many there are, it kind of surprises you.

“We can look on Netflix if you want. They always take stuff off, though.”

You know. All your favourite movies get taken off of streaming, and you only ever find out about it when you’re really in the mood to watch them. As soon as you realise the wall is alphabetised, you know exactly where to look.

“That’s alright,” you shrug, stepping to the side as you track backwards, through M, L, K and J. “You guys are pretty analogue, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you mean?”

“The board games, the DVDs, the whole no phones around the house thing.”

“No phones around the house is common courtesy,” he chuckles, “But I guess we’re a little weird about the other stuff.”

“It’s pretty cool,” you shrug, spotting the DVD you want and sliding it out to assess the case. “It’s old school. Probably better for the brain. My little brothers can’t really function without an iPad and they’re 5, it’s freaky, like they’re haunted by the capitalist ghost of Steve Jobs or something.”

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Luke frowns where you almost expect him to laugh, and you spin on your heel to face him. He has this look about him like he should have known that - like the two of you have ever conversed in anything other than sarcastic quips and scrunched up faces, or whatever attempts at flirting have been on his part. 

“Technically they’re half brothers,” you shrug, “They live out in Philly with my dad and step mom, I don’t really get to see them much.”

“Didn’t know you were from Philly, either.”

“I’m not, my dad moved out there when him and my mom got divorced.”

It’s not something you really love talking about. 

The few times you’ve tried, you’ve been shot down, patronising tones scoffing at how your biggest trauma is the separation of your parents, as if your whole world didn’t crumble down with the demise of their relationship, the demise of life as you knew and very dearly loved it.

“You don’t see him even in the summer?”

“Him and his family are on vacation in Europe for 6 weeks. England, France, Spain, Germany, the boys are into soccer so they’ll be out there until the Euros.”

You don’t miss the way Luke’s face scrunches at how you call them his family, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him to start pitying you, so you throw the DVD case toward him before you can second guess your choice.

Interstellar. 

You hope he doesn’t pick up on why it might be one of your favourites. Especially not considering the topic of the conversation at hand. Something about the crippling regret Cooper has for leaving Murph behind plucks harmoniously at some unidentifiable strings deep within you, but you’re hardly about to admit that to Luke, of all people.

“I love this movie,” he smiles, almost surprised, as if he expected you to throw The Notebook his way. Maybe next time - he’d probably love that movie, too, if he gave it a chance. 

“Me too. I love space movies.”

“Like Space Jam?” He asks as he pushes himself up, going toward the TV to set up the movie with the DVD in one hand and the remote control in the other. 

“No, like movies about Space,” you say, throwing yourself down onto the same couch he just vacated and tucking your feet beneath you to get comfortable. “Although I guess Space Jam would technically fit into that bracket.”

“I didn’t realise that was a genre,” he chuckles.

“Not the scary ones, though, I don’t wanna be freaked out by space.”

“Is that like a thing? You just like any movie set in space?”

“I like anything about space, period. Movies, documentaries, books. Thinking about it makes me feel really insignificant.”

“Insignificant? Is that not a bad thing?” He asks as he makes his way back, settling into his side and angling his body toward yours.

“Do you ever think about how big the universe is, Hughes? It’s humongous! If I ever feel anxious or panicky I think about just how big it is and how I’m not even a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. If I’m so tiny, how big can my problems actually be?”

“I guess that makes sense,” he seems to mull it over in his head, the thought of him even considering it and not making you feel stupid warms your chest - makes you forget just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him in the last couple of minutes alone, makes you worry less that you’re sharing too much. “I think I might be the opposite, though. Probably the youngest brother in me, I only feel better if I feel bigger.”

You think that might be why he’s always trying to one up you - sassy comments and inappropriate jokes galore. Not that you mind any of it, not really.

“What about you? What movies do you like?”

“You’re gonna be so shocked.”

“Sports movies?”

“Look at you, knowing me like the back of your hand.” He coos, nudging at your knee with his hand. “I’ll watch anything, though. We should take it in turns, whenever it’s just us,” he says like the thought of spending time alone with you has only just crossed his mind. “Picking a movie to show each other.”

You think there’s a lot of yourself in the media you consume. The movies you watch, the music you listen to, and sharing those things with Luke feels like giving him the only other key to a high security vault. It’s something you’ve avoided so far - letting him play his songs in the car, avoiding making any sort of pick in the group movie nights. It’s daunting, and it’s a lot of pressure, and so you don’t know why you agree with so much ease - a shrug, and a casual muttering of, “Sure, why not?”

The pieces of your dynamic slowly start to slot together, and you start to realise why you’ve been entertaining his company so often, lately. Why your mood so quickly de-escalated itself, earlier. Why you’ve found yourself curled up on the same couch as him, instead of literally anywhere else in the house, doing anything other than this. Why you’re so quick to agree to letting him access all these unseen parts of you.

And why you think he might be able to read your mind, after he asks, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Only if I get to ask one back.”

“What were you gonna do tonight, if you were on your own?”

Thank God, you think, your heart jumping at the thought of anything else he could have asked.

“I was gonna do a sheet mask and steal the bottle of wine Quinn stashed behind the laundry detergent.” You admit with a nonchalant shrug, the plans you had been looking forward to all day seeming mundane in comparison to this. “Why’d you stay behind? You love Zach Bryan.”

“I love sheet masks and stolen wine, too.”

Your lips curve up before you get the chance to huff at his non-answer, and you feel your throat go a little dry at the way his curve, too - the way his green eyes darken when they meet yours, and you feel like he’s looking straight through you.

It’s around half way through the movie that you realise how much you’re enjoying yourself - when you look over at Luke, and the light from the screen is still bouncing off the sticky white sheet plastered to his face, only just able to make out his round eyes through the little slit in the fabric. 

You sip at your wine to hide your smile, and turn your attention back to the TV until Luke nudges at your feet with his, and your eyes meet over the tops of your bent knees. 

“You tell anyone I did this, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Your laugh ripples through every inch of your upper body, rumbling up from your belly and manifesting itself in shaking shoulders, your smile wide and your sheet mask slipping out of place. “You can’t threaten me with a good time, Hughes.”

You spend the rest of the night trying not to think about how there might just be a tiny door in your heart, eking it’s way open for him to squeeze his gangly limbs into.

another a/n: I don't want to put a timeframe on when the next part will be posted bc as soon as I do that, my brain will revolt and it won't happen, but I'd love to know your thoughts in the meantime!!! I have a lot of the rest actually written, and what I don't have written, I have drafted, so it shouldn't be too long but!!! like I said no timeframe!! I've had a lot of fun with this dynamic, and hearing any opinions would mean a lot to me!!

this was my first time writing reader insert if you saw any instances of she/her where they shouldn't be, no you didn’t. I tried as best as I could to avoid using Y/N because it takes me out of it I don’t even remember if I put it anywhere but sometimes it's hard to get around I did my best ok!!!

[opiopal]

more random headcanons!!!! cuz they've been building up in my brain!!!

whenever there is a ball, Dia makes SURE he steals a dance from Lucifer,

one time, mammon and mc snuck out bc mammon had a thing he wanted to do, when they both got back mc was super drowsy and was falling asleep on mammons arm, which lead to them both somehow sleeping on the couch lowkey cuddling. everyone else was very jealous for a while.

once satan got angry enough to rampage modern day, and by mistake he had thrown something and it hit Mc, which ended up bruising pretty bad. he felt guilt until it fully healed no matter how many times Mc told him it was fine.

once beel went to an all you can eat place and came back to the HOL and went into a very short food coma,

Belphie has crescent shaped scars on the back of his hands and on his wrists, he has them from when he had killed Mc, their nails were digging into his hands while trying to escape. he looks at them often and feels guilt.

lucifer has pictures of all his brothers in his wallet and Mc knows this.. Mc also wept into his chest after noticing they got added to his wallet as well

mc teaches dia a lot of human things, wether its phrases or things like skating. Though sometimes, very rarely, they'll confirm some untrue bs that solomon tells him just to fuck with him. "Yes, human women do shed their skin during their periods."

one time in a panic mammon bit lucifer hard on the hand when he was about to be punished, it sent lucifer into a small crisis afterwards.

everyone has gotten their makeup done by asmo before, even if they don't realize they have.

luke needs a step stool for a lot of things, since everything in purgatory hall was made for adults and had no consideration for anyone that is child sized.

though I dont know much abt her, I believe that thirteen would be a hugger, but only with Mc, not like overly clingy, but def a hugger.

one time Mc got sick crazy bad and woke up to barbatos folding their laundry for them in the middle of the night, since he knew they wouldn't be able to manage to do such a thing and was fearful that none of the brothers would help them with it, so it probably kept him awake lol. Mc was very confused yet thankful and barb was very embarrassed.

going back to lucifer being a dad, he also probably has a group photo of the 8 of them framed in his office.

satan and mc randomly talk to each other as if they are in a shakespeare play just for the hell of it, it most likely started when one of them was making fun of something and the other copied it.

I'd like to thinkk that asmo and levi are secretly close, asmo helps him with cosplay stuff!!!

[withwritersblock]

Little Freak

~Little Freak by Harry Styles~

Author's Note: requested! I looked up interpertations of the meaning behind the song and picked my favorite :) Summary: Luke recalls his favorite situationship from college Warnings: mentions of sex ig? Word Count: 2,282 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

The season was starting to get harder and harder. The media was dragging him through the dirt because he wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes and he wasn’t allowed to do that. Even though he was a rookie. It was April, the Devils season coming to an end without a playoff appearance, all Luke wanted was to go home. Yet they had three games left. 

It was well past midnight and his mind was wandering. His hotel bed was uncomfortable, despite being one of the nicer ones in Toronto. He kept tossing and turning.

Shutting his eyes, Y/N popped into his mind. 

He agreed to the costume before he remembered how hot the fraternity parties got. How crowded and instantly sweaty he got. The Scooby-Doo costume was slowly started to be zipped lower and lower on his frame as more alcohol entered his body. He mostly stuck to his friends, the other boys in Scooby-Doo costumes. Many have already resorted to letting it hang off of their waist.

Luke was avoiding being shirtless at the party as long as he could.  He kept his beer can in his hand longer than he should’ve this late into the night. It was becoming warm and nearly undrinkable. He still kept it in his hand as he leaned against the wall ignoring something Dylan was shouting towards the rest of the group. 

He lifted his gaze to see a group of girls entering the party, all of them were wearing short dresses with white boots. He couldn’t tell what they were exactly until they spun around to see tiny wings on their back. Their costume came into his mind but it quickly drifted away as the girl in the green dress struck out. She was dead center of the group, quickly left alone as each girl ran towards another person they recognized.

She stood still scanning the crowded party before she started walking deeper into the crowd. Luke lost sight of her, he clenched his jaw as he slowly dropped his gaze towards his beer in his hand. 

“LUKEY BOY!” Ethan shouted as he slammed his and onto Luke’s shoulder. Luke lifted his head, a little delayed in the action. “DID YOU JUST FALL IN LOVE!?” he shouted again teasingly. Luke smirked as he rolled his eyes. He brought the beer towards his mouth, sipping barely any of the liquid. 

“Shut up, man,” he let out while shaking his head. “I need a new beer!” he shouted towards Ethan, implying he should come with. He nodded as the pair, shoved through the crowd towards the less full kitchen. 

The girl in the green dress stood beside one of the girls she came into the party with. Ethan smiled towards Luke as they both reached into the cooler beside the girls. 

“Lemme guess!” Ethan shouted excitedly towards the girls. They stopped their conversation, looking towards Ethan expectantly, “Tinkerbell and Silvermist!” he said pointing towards each of the girls. They smirked as they nodded. 

“How’d you know that, Scooby?” the girl in the light blue dress asked. Ethan nodded confidently as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

Luke tuned out the conversation as he tossed his old beer towards the nearly overflowing trash can in the corner of the kitchen. He quickly opened the tab to his beer in his hand and the liquid sprayed out for a second. It completely hit the girl in the light blue dress. 

His eyes widened as his mouth fell open. She gasped dramatically, turning to Luke and giving him a glare. “I’m so sorry about him, let’s get you cleaned up!” Ethan said as he delicately took a hold of her arm. The girl huffed as she allowed Ethan to guide her away. Luke pressed his lips together trying not to laugh.

The girl in the green dress looked towards Luke and let out a sudden laugh. Luke started laughing as he took the spot of the girl in the light blue dress. 

He leaned towards her, talking close to her ear, “I promise that wasn’t planned to talk to you guys.” He pulled away, a soft smirk on his lips. 

“I didn’t think it was but now I’m starting to think it might’ve been,” she teased. He chuckled as he brought the beer towards his lips. He took a sip, unzipping more of the costume as he fanned himself with his other hand for a moment. “I’m sorry about Zoey! She’s a bit dramatic,” she offered.

“I mean I did get some beer on her,” Luke shrugged.

“Yeah, but it barely touched her skin,” she said laughing. “This whole fairy costume stuff was her idea, so I’m sure she’s so crushed a little bit of beer got on her,” she said sarcastically.

“Says the girl who’s dressed as the main character,” 

“I’m only Tinkerbell because I look good in green,” she offered as she looked into his eyes. He slowly scanned her frame, admiring the color against her skin. His cheeks slowly pinked up.

“Yeah, you do,” he mumbled. She smirked as she delicately rested her hand onto his arm.

“It was nice meeting you-” she trailed off.

“Luke,” he answered for her, suddenly feeling shy. 

“It was nice meeting you, Luke. I’m gonna go find my friends,” she uttered as she turned away from him. 

“Wait-!” he called after her and she spun around and faced him again. “What’s your name?” he asked. She smiled towards him as she tilted her head to the side.

“Y/N!” she told him before she slowly started walking away from him. She spotted a few of her friends huddled in the corner and she approached them. They smiled wide as she approached.

“Where’s Zoey?” her friend, Brit, asked. Y/N smirked.

“Some guy spilled beer on her and then the other guy offered to get her cleaned up,” she explained. The girls all started laughing.

“So she’s probably-”

“Yup,” Y/N offered as she glanced towards the kitchen once more. She wasn’t sure if she was searching for Luke but if she was, she didn’t find him.

It was another hour into the party and it was only getting more and more crowded. Her friends were drunk and busy dancing but she was burnt out. She wandered towards the kitchen, the only space where she could get some air. Her face scrunched together as she shoved passed a couple grinding against each other. She let out a huff of air as she stepped into the free space.

Her eyes landed on Luke who was also leaning against a countertop, drinking a water bottle. He smirked as he met her gaze. “You alright?” he asked as he took a long sip from his bottle. She nodded as she took a deep breath.

“I just need a break from all of that,” she expressed.

He nodded. “Me too,” he muttered. He tilted his head back against the cabinet, meeting her gaze through his eyelashes. He pressed his lips together as he scanned her frame. “Do you wanna escape to my room?” he asked.

She hesitated for only a second before she nodded. He held out his free hand towards her and she gladly took it. She followed after him towards the room that had a lock on the handle from the outside. Luke quickly took the lock off before he shvoed the door open.

The room was surprisingly more clean than she expected. The rest of the house was disgusting, so she was shocked to see it look the way it did. He delicately guided her inside, locking the door behind them. He let go off her hand as he awkwardly held his hands out as if to show her the room. 

“We can just chill and watch a movie or something-you know wait for the crowd to die down,” he offered as he pointed to the bed beside him.  She nodded as she watched him hop onto the bed at the same time he turned on his TV. A soft giggle fell from her lips as she slowly laid beside him. 

Luke opened his eyes, trying to send the memory far away. He hasn’t thought about her in months. He’s been in situations similar with girls but Y/N suddenly was on his mind. He reached for his phone and turned it on. He pulled up his Snapchat memories and began scrolling. 

He kept scrolling until he reached the months that he was with Y/N. He kept glancing at the photos and videos, hoping to see some evidence of their time together. Perhaps to refresh his memory. His eyes land on the photo of him and Y/N laying in his bed together a few months after they met. He smiled to himself as he admired the way she looked in the photo.

She looked tired but happy.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she shoved his arms away with his phone held up. He chuckled as he dropped his phone down to the side. He crossed his arms over his chest. She brushed her fingers through her hair as she stared down towards Luke laying beside him. 

“Just remembering this,” he muttered as he scanned her features. She rolled her eyes as she leaned towards him. Delicately pressing her lips against his. He raised his hands up and delicately ran his hands along her back slowly and cautiously.

She pulled away as she looked into his eyes for a moment before she laid beside him instead. “Am I sneaking out, or did you tell your roommates?” she asked as she stared towards her hands. He pressed his lips together as he took a deep breath. “Sneaking out, got it,” she muttered. 

“Y/N,” he let out.

“No it’s okay,” she mumbled as she slowly stood up from the bed, she crossed her arms over her chest. She wandered around the bed towards the black hoodie she wore. 

“I just don’t know what to tell them,” Luke said. She clenched her jaw as she covered her frame. She nodded as she slipped on her shoes as well. “Y/N,” he mumbled.

“I’ll see you next party, I guess,” she mumbled as she snuck out of his room, glancing down the hall. Luke tilted his head back against the pillow as he shut his eyes harshly.

“Stupid,” he muttered as he ran his hand across his eyes.

Luke frowned to himself as he continued to look for memories with her. He saw a few more photos of her in a similar light several weeks later. It was the last one between the pair. 

His memory quickly returned, he rolled his eyes as he recalled how he ruined it.

He was on top of her, her thigh in his hand as he kissed her urgently. Her fingertips ran through his curls. He pulled away admiring her features as he began to trail his lips from her jaw down to her neck. She hummed as she began to breath heavier. He pulled away, leaning back as he pulled his shirt from his frame. She smiled as he leaned down towards her again, kissing her urgently.

“Luke,” she mumbled against his lips, he hummed as he kissed her urgently. His hands began to roam her frame and she pulled away, “Luke,” she let out again. He stopped and stared into her eyes.

“You alright?” he asked as he scanned her features. She took a shaky breath as she ran her fingers through his hair for a quiet moment. 

“What are we doing?” she asked quietly. His gaze lowered towards her lips. 

“Having fun,” he let out casually. She rolled her eyes. She slowly slipped her hands from his hair, down his chest towards her own body. 

“Yeah? That’s it? All we’re doing?” she let out frustratingly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he rolled away from her. He sat up at the same time she did. 

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked shyly. She rolled her eyes, a laugh leaving her lips as she stood up from the bed. “Where are you going?” he continued. 

“I’m tired of this, Luke, I’m gonna go. Find another girl to have fun with because I’m tired of sneaking around. I want a relationship but I don’t want it with someone who has to hide the fact that we have sex from his friends,” she let out as she put on her outfit she had on prior. 

Without giving him a second to think about what she said she opens the bedroom door and reenters the party. Luke let out a long drawn out breath as he collapsed onto his back. 

He found himself pulling up her contact. He hasn’t tried to reach her since that night well over a year ago. He never saw her as a girl he wanted a relationship with, but he hates that he hurt her. 

He pulled the phone towards his ear, hearing it ring. A sigh of relief fell from his lips hearing that she didn’t block him. 

After a few seconds the ringing stops but it wasn’t sent to voicemail. She answered. “Uh-hello?” she let out awkwardly. 

“H-hey, I was just thinking about you and I guess I called you,” he let out shyly. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, it was so fast. He truly doesn’t remember hitting the call button.

“Oh-okay, you doing alright, Luke?” she offered. He didn’t know how to answer.

“Ye-yeah, sure. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,”

“You shouldn’t have,” she mumbled while giggling, “But you did, what’s going on?” she asked again.

“I guess I just miss being a dumbass college kid,”

[billthebullfrogs]

sure thing.

“Hey, firecracker,” a voice—unmistakable, to you, at least —calls from behind, and you instantly knew who it was. “Need to talk to you.”

There was only one person that would call you that nickname. Luke Castellan, the bane of your existence, thought it was extremely funny to remind you of that one time you almost burnt down the pavilion. The moment they figured out it was you; you had earned the nickname you dreaded so much. He loved reminding you of embarrassing stuff you did. You desperately wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face. What did he even want? Didn’t he have something better to do than to bother you?

He leaned against one of the posts in the arena, eyebrows raised expectantly. He just needed a change from training the newbies. He wanted to go all out, and the best person to do that with was sadly you. Well, at least the satisfaction he’d get from beating you—because he would beat you, obviously, was totally worth it.

You sighed, “What?”

“Need a sparring partner, that's all,” he said, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips, now accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “And I'd rather have you than anyone in this camp.”

“That sounded too nice for your standards... Are you that desperate?” Your eyes narrowed; you were skeptical.

“Desperate to beat your ass, yes," he said, an easy laugh breaking past the steely look on his face. Luke was aware of the fact that he often annoyed you, and maybe he liked it just a little. "Besides, I wanna try some new sword techniques I came up with. So, whaddya say? Pretty please?" His head tilted a little when he said that, he was giving you that look.

You were silent, biting your lips just like you always did when you were focused. After a moment, you gave in. “Fine,” you said. Maybe you’d benefit from this, too.

"That’s my girl," he said as he casually walked toward you. "I promise not to go easy on you. If you feel like you're gonna trip and impale yourself with my sword, just say the word, alright?" A smirk flitted past his lips, though his words seemed genuine enough. Luke knew you would never stop being rivals. But the feeling of respect he had for you was real. He trusted you and even cared for you, but he’d rather commit war crimes than admit that.

“Fuck you,” you spat as you got into your signature fighting stance. Maybe this was a mistake, but if you gave up already, he’d think you’d gotten cold feet.

“If you ask nicely.”

That smug bastard. You hated him with all your heart. You hated his stupid smile and the way he made everyone around him feel comfortable, even you. You hated the butterflies he gave you. You hated his guts.

With a smooth slashing motion towards his torso, you started the fight. He blocked it with ease. Without a further word, Luke went in towards you with a quick and precise strike, sword arm extended forward in a tight grip with the tip aimed towards your sternum. He wanted to overwhelm you, thinking you hadn’t improved since the last time you sparred. But oh, was he wrong.

You’ve been watching him, his rather aggressive style of fighting, and the look in his eyes when he tried a certain move for a long time now. You’ve fought him many times before, and you were getting the hang of it. You’ve been training a lot, and while he was busy with the new campers, you had developed your own, unique fighting style. He knew you as a pretty good fighter, who could almost keep up with him on a good day. Almost. But now, you’d surpass his expectations. You blocked his hit, your body moving smoothly like liquid. Instead of using all your strength to try and withstand his attacks, you just gave in. Let loose. You used the force of his hit and channeled it, transferring it into your own with ease. He did not see that coming.

You'd always had a strong sense of intuition and your body would respond accordingly, as if it had a mind of its own. Luke was quick to counter, his body leaning back with a fluid motion to avoid any of your quick strikes, all the while trying to find an opening. The back-and-forth movement that was once just a spar has now become a deadly dance of swords, the two of you constantly in motion, no pause in sight. There is a certain excitement in the air, almost a spark that has ignited your mutual hostility and aggression.

Your movements were fluid as if you could predict all of Luke's moves in advance. You were a master of timing, of anticipating all of the demigod's strikes. Not once could he match your fluidity, his movements jerky compared to your graceful flow. There was something about the way you both fought so elegantly that made you feel like you were part of an agile performance, each of you matching the other's movements perfectly. It felt less like a fight and more like an art.

Yet even as you moved with effortless ease, the clash of swords kept you both on your toes, your bodies moving in such perfect sync that neither could find a flaw in the other's defense. Your movements almost appeared as if you were both working together, but this was not the case—in fact, Luke was becoming more frustrated by the second as he strained to find a way to slip past your guard.

“You’ve improved,” he breathed out while you fought. “I like it.” The way he said that sent shivers up your spine. It was embarrassing how these words affected you so hard that you made a small mistake. It was a mistake that could happen to even the best swordsmen in history, but a mistake nonetheless. And it led to his sword held at your throat. You fucked up. And he made you feel it, the cold tip of his sword gently tapping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You prayed that he didn’t notice the color on your cheeks.

“You're distracted too easily.” He looked serious for once, that glint of smugness had left his eyes for just a moment. “I win again.” And there it was again, that stupid smile of his. He dropped his sword and held out a hand to help you up. You let him pull you up, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Did you get what you wanted out of this fight?” You asked, and he nodded. “Much better than trying to teach the newbies not to drop their swords while fighting.”

“Good,” you turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist. “Same time tomorrow?”

You could’ve said no, could’ve walked away, could’ve done ANYTHING, but instead, you looked at him and said, “Sure thing.”

[babydollmarauders]

BALLAD OF A HOMESCHOOLED GIRL — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n goes on a date with Jack and thinks she made a complete fool of herself

notes: obviously inspired by Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl by Olivia Rodrigo, not proofread and written on extreme sleepiness. (3.6k words)

third dates.

my mother always told me to have them in group settings.

she said the first date is to get to know each other; the second is to learn how he’d treat you in private; the third date is to learn how he’d treat you in front of his friends.

most guys seem to get intimidated when i ask about joining a hang out with his friends for the third date, but Jack was different. i had told Jack on our first about my rules.

first date in a public setting, but alone.

second date in private, his apartment or mine.

third date with a group of friends.

i hadn’t expected him to take it so well, nodding along as though even without context, it made sense. he didn’t ask for clarification, which was good because i had learned after my last relationship not to give any; lest they’ll act like a gentlemen in front of their friends until we start dating.

i honestly didn’t expect Jack to contact me again, fully awaiting the discovery that he’d ghosted me, possibly even blocked me to keep me from talking to him again. but then he texted me tonight.

“i know it’s last minute, but third date tonight? me and some guys from the team are going for drinks, would you wanna come?”

and now here i am, walking into a pretty secluded bar to meet Jack and about half a dozen other professional hockey players. to say i’m nervous would be a massive understatement.

i spent at least half an hour trying on various outfits, but nothing felt right. every article of clothing i tried on had something wrong with it; whether it be that it didn’t fit quite right, or it didn’t match the occasion, or i just deemed it didn’t look good on me, something was always wrong. so i finally settled on a nice sundress, despite the chilled air of the evening.

“y/n!” my head turns in search of the voice that called my name, locking eyes with Jack, where he sits at a high top table with five other guys. “i was starting to think you’d stood me up!”

my eyebrows furrow as i walk over to him, stopping at the end of the table. my stomach ties in knots at all of the eyes on me. i hate attention.

“why would i do that?” a few of the guys chuckle at my question, but i’m not sure i understand what’s so funny.

“i was joking.” Jack clarifies.

oh.

embarrassment washes over me and i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, but Jack just smiles sweetly, rising to his feet and pulling out the chair beside him.

“oh, thank you.” i take a seat and he returns to his, his hand settling on my knee as one of the guys begin to speak.

“so, you’re y/n?” my eyes go wide, and i glance over at Jack but he’s looking over at the other guy. “i’m Luke.”

“nice to meet you, Luke.” i give the curly headed boy a tight smile, “so, you play with Jack?”

the boy grins, nodding his head, “i guess you could say that.”

everyone snickers, and i fear i’ve made a mistake of some sort. my blood runs cold; i hate feeling like i’m on the outside of some giant inside joke.

maybe this was a mistake.

Jack squeezes my knee, and i look over at him with subtly pleading eyes, silently begging for him to save me.

“Luke is my younger brother, but he does play on the team with me.” there it is. that’s where i messed up.

“oh, i’m sorry.” i’m not sure what i’m apologizing for, but it seems like the right thing to do. i glance back at Luke, “i knew Jack had mentioned your name before but, he’s mentioned so many names that at this point they all jumble together in my head.”

Luke just shakes his head, waving it off. “nah, don’t worry, it’s okay.”

after that, i decide it’s better to go quiet; only really speaking when spoken to. i can’t embarrass myself if i’m not saying anything.

“hey.” Jack’s voice is soft, and at first, i don’t even realize he’s talking to me, until i tear my eyes from who i now know as Dawson, who’s telling a story with wildly gesturing hands. “do you wanna go get a drink?”

he nods his head over towards the bar, and i nod, desperately in need of something to ease my nerves, “yes, please.”

Jack and i rise from our seats, his hand going to my lower back to stabilize me as i stumble. my cheeks go red, but i decide it’s better not to acknowledge my clumsiness.

“and i— where are you guys going?” Dawson cuts himself off, drawing attention to Jack and i’s retreating pair. “did i bore you, y/n?”

i stop in my tracks, freezing up as guilt takes over me.

“i- what? n-no! Jack-” i stumble over my words in a panic, attempting to reassure him, but apparently i didn’t help my case.

“see, Merc! poor y/n even finds your story stupid.” John laughs and i shake my head wildly.

“no! i found it interesting!” Nico snickers at my words, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“interesting. that’s one way of putting it.”

oh god, i made it worse.

“guys, leave her alone.” Jack speaks up, rolling his eyes at his friends before he turns back to me. “c’mon, ignore them, they’re just raggin’ on you.”

my brows thread together in confusion, but i nod nonetheless, allowing him to use his hand that still rests on my back to guide me over to the bar.

“i’m sorry about them.” he sighs as we reach the counter, waiting for a bartender. “they have a stupid sense of humor.”

“no! no, it’s fine!” i assure him.

it’s not them, it’s me.

i’ve never been great at picking up on social cues, perhaps due to my odd lifestyle as a child.

when the bartender reaches us, Jack orders another beer before looking over at me, “oh, can i just get an aperol spritz, please?”

Jack hands over his card and when he gets it back he turns to me.

“i gotta run to the bathroom, are you okay waiting for the drinks? i’ll be back in a second.” i nod and he takes off towards the restroom, leaving me alone.

“so, you like him?” apparently not alone for long.

i turn my head in surprise, only to find Luke standing beside me. he asks the bartender who arrives back with Jack and i’s drinks for another beer and the man nods.

“hmm? Jack?” Luke nods and i smile looking down into my glass. “yeah, i really like him.”

“see, i said so!” my face scrunched in confusion as i look back at him.

“you said so?” i question.

“yeah! Johnny was trying to say you must not like him because you aren’t being very flirty, but i told him- i said you obviously like him if you’re on a third date.”

flirting.

i’ve never been great at that. and i haven’t needed to be, Jack is the one who approached me first, he’s the one who asked me out and he hasn’t given any indication that i have any reason to have to flirt to keep his attention.

“oh.”

Luke pays for his beer before retreating back to the table with a low “see you in a few.”

i’m quick to tear my phone out of my pocket, glancing over towards the restrooms for a moment to make sure my date isn’t coming back before making a quick google search.

this seems impossible.

“hey.” Jack reappears beside me and i hastily lock my phone, looking up at him as i go to slide it back into my pocket. but the combination of my fidgety hands, quick movements, and not paying attention to my surroundings doesn’t end well.

before i can even blink, my hand is knocking into my glass, the drink sliding off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering upon impact.

“oh my god!” i squeal, jumping back from the broken shards. i glance down at the mess before looking back up at Jack. “i am so sorry!”

i turn to the waitress who comes rushing towards us with a broom and towels, apologizing profusely and offering to clean it up myself.

“it’s no problem, happens all the time.” she tells me with a smile, but i still bury my face in my hands.

i’m making a fool of myself.

“can we get another aperol spritz?” i peek through my eyes at the sound of Jack’s voice, watching as he hands the bartender his card again.

“i am so sorry, Jack.” my voice is low and whimpered, my shoulders rising as though to protect myself. “i just wasted your money and made a huge mess.”

Jack smiles softly, shaking his head as he chuckles, “don’t worry about it. it’s seriously okay, y/n. accidents happen, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

i nod, but i truly feel horrible now.

this was a mistake. i should’ve just stayed home; watched a cheesy romance or read a true crime novel and gone to bed early.

the bartender hands me the new drink, and i thank him before Jack leads me back to the table.

“everything okay?” Timo questions as we return and Jack just nods as we settle back in our seats.

“yeah, just a little accident. it’s all good.” the guys chuckle but all turn back to their previous conversation, somehow now on the topic of the wildest things they did in school.

i stay silent, hoping and praying to any higher power that they don’t involve me in this conversation, but my luck runs out pretty quickly. although i’m not sure i’ve had any tonight in the first place.

“what about you, y/n?” Nico is the one to rope me in, “what’s the wildest thing you did in school?”

“i- uh-” i internally cringe, mentally preparing myself for their jokes, “i was homeschooled. so, i didn’t really get to do anything crazy like you guys.”

“ohh, you’re a homeschool kid.” Luke nods as if it makes sense.

“did you know that statistically speaking, homeschoolers are more likely to graduate than public schoolers?” John pipes up, and i shake my head.

“really?” Jack questions, his nose scrunched cutely in disbelief.

“no, i- uh, i didn’t know that.” John nods at my words.

“yeah, look it up!” he points to my phone, which never actually made it to my pocket after the broken glass fiasco and now resides face down on the table.

i pick it up and Jack and Dawson, who both reside on either respective side of me, lean in to see my phone screen, eager to find out whether their teammate is correct.

but when i unlock my phone, my eyes grow wide and i’m eagerly attempting to swipe out of the current window, but it’s as if the world is against me because this is the exact moment that my phone screen decides to freeze.

“does that say ‘how to flirt?’” Dawson chuckles and i bite my lip, giving up and slamming my phone face down onto my lap as the table bursts into laughter.

i’m blushing like a mad woman, squeezing my eyes shut as i bury my face into my hands for the second time that night.

“aww y/n, you really let John get to you, huh?” Luke teases, and i feel like i could cry of embarrassment.

everything i do is tragic.

suddenly my seat is moving, scooting further to my right, before an arm is spindling around my waist. i let my hands lower just slightly to peer up at Jack, who wears a happy grin, his cheeks tinged pink.

he glances down at me, smiling even wider when he sees that i’m already looking at him.

it’s like a cat’s got my tongue, too stunned by the overwhelming mortification of the situation to even get a word out to explain or defend myself.

but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, pulling me into his body until my head is against his collarbone as he changes the subject; bringing up a story about he and his older brother trying to free an infant Luke from his crib when they were younger.

i’m quiet as the group speaks, most of them speaking over each other, which in turn makes others get louder to try and be heard. my head aches and i need a break.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” i whisper, freeing myself from Jack’s hold as he nods in understanding.

“okay. are you okay?” i give him a small smile, reassuring him that i’m fine before i leave.

my hands rest upon the bathroom sink, my eyes glaring into my reflection in the wonky bar mirror.

“get it together.” i try and tell myself, but it comes out in more of a whine.

why am i like this?

i run my hands through my hair, making sure it’s volumized, and heave out a sigh before i make my way back out of the restroom to join the table again.

on my way back, i can’t help but smile at the sight of Jack laughing with his friends.

he seems so carefree.

but i should’ve been watching where i was going, because halfway to the table, i’m tripping over someone’s heeled foot, landing on my knee on the hard ground.

“oh shit!” Jack’s voice echoes over the loudness of the music and bar-goers, and i can hear multiple chairs screech across the floor. “y/n, are you okay?”

oh god, i wanna curl up and die.

“yeah, i’m fine.” my voice is wavering and weak, so over making an idiot of myself tonight.

Jack appears in front of me, holding his hands out to help me up. his skin is soft as i slide my hands into his, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.

his friends stand behind him, a couple biting back laughs, but the others wide eyed in concern.

i let Jack guide me back to the table, and when i sit down, he’s kneeling in front of me, inspecting my knee for any immediate bruising or marks.

i sigh and he looks up at me, worry settled into his expression.

“that was a hell of a tumble.” Timo snickers, but he sobers up quickly as his eyes meet Jack’s, “you’re okay though, right?”

“physically? yes. mentally? questionable.” the table laughs, but i didn’t mean to joke, which only makes me press my lips together.

Jack finally deems my knee okay, settling back into his seat and letting his arm rest over the back of my chair.

“what were we talking about?” Jack asks, effectively diverting the attention away from my fall and back to the conversation from while i was gone.

“cheating.” John states, taking a sip from his beer.

i let out a little laugh, thinking he was just joking, but i sober up as i realize nobody else is.

“oh, you were serious.” i bite my lip as he nods.

“right!” Luke exclaims, “so people are saying he cheated on her?”

“yeah,” Dawson nods, and i’m a bit lost, “which i don’t understand, because all he did was hold hands with the other girl. we don’t know anything other than that. holding hands could have so many different meanings.”

i take a big gulp of my drink, listening intently as the guys debate cheating and what counts as cheating.

“i think, if one of you guys cheated on your girlfriend, i might ‘accidentally’ knock your teeth out on the ice.” Nico tells them, making the guys and i laugh. “i’m serious, you’d be bag skating until you physically drop from exhaustion.”

and like word vomit, before i can stop myself, i’m speaking, “my friend recently cheated on her boyfriend, and i can’t tell if i should tell him or let him find out on his own.”

their heads turn to me and i shrink in my seat as i realize what just escaped my lips.

“oh my god, i’m not supposed to be telling that to anyone.” my hand covers my mouth, and a few of the guys laugh at my actions.

“you should definitely tell him.” John shrugs, “he deserves to know.”

“i thought so too, but if i do tell him, does that make me a horrible friend?” the guys all start shouting different things along the same lines.

some telling me it doesn’t make me a bad friend, while others telling me that i shouldn’t be friends with her anymore anyways.

“has she done anything else?” Luke asks, and i scrunch my nose.

“cheating wise, no: just one drunken kiss with some guy.” i start. “but she told him she was sick to get out of meeting his parents.”

i clap my hand over my mouth again, shocked that these secrets are just tumbling out of me.

“fuck, i shouldn’t be telling you guys these things.”

the guys cackle and Dawson changes the subject, apparently just remembering a story of something that happened to him back home over the summer.

i remain quiet for the next fifteen or so minutes, just listening as the guys go back and forth, telling stories of their summers, until i feel Jack’s hand on my shoulder.

“hey, i’m heading home, do you want me to drop you off at your house?”

i eagerly accept his offer, happily willing to leave now and avoid paying for an uber during surge pricing. the both of us bid goodbye to his teammates and his brother, who says he’ll hitch a ride back to the apartment with Dawson, before we head out to his car.

i smile as he opens the car door for me, allowing me to climb in before he shuts the door again and jogs around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers side.

i don’t need to give him my address, our second date having been at my apartment, so i just clasp my hands tightly together in my lap, both of his on his steering wheel.

“i had fun tonight.” he tells me as we pull up to my apartment building.

“yeah, your friends are nice.”

not a complete lie. they are nice, i’m just not sure i got along with them, or more so, that they liked me.

“can i walk you up?” i accept his request and he exits the car, running around it to open my door before i get the chance to.

i mentally prepare myself on the silent elevator up to my apartment, readying myself to have him tell me that he doesn’t think we fit.

i was awkward tonight, breaking a glass, stumbling over my words, tripping, googling things that should be common knowledge, and telling secrets i had no business telling.

i couldn’t think of any worse ways to ruin a potential relationship.

when we reach my apartment, Jack stops me in front of my door, and before he gets the chance to belittle my dignity any further than i, myself, already have, i’m speaking up.

“i completely understand if you don’t wanna continue this.” i sigh, finding sudden interest in my shoes. “i made a complete fool of myself tonight.”

“why would you think i don’t wanna see you again?” he sounds hurt, his finger hooking under my chin and pulling my head up to look at him.

i chuckle lowly, “you can’t take me anywhere. every time i go out, it’s social suicide.”

“so you’re a bit clumsy and you need time to click with my friends and their humor, so what?” he shrugs, “i think you’re cute. and i’m incredibly honored that you wanted to flirt with me.”

i groan, my face flushing, and i tip my head back to look up at the ceiling.

“oh god, that was so embarrassing.” i whine.

“it was sweet.” Jack chuckles, pulling me into his chest. his arms wrap around me and i melt into his embrace, his chin resting on top of my head.

“i really like you, y/n. and tonight may not have gone the way you would’ve liked, and i can respect that, you’re allowed to feel that way, but i really liked it. i got a chance to figure out more about you and what you’re like, and it only solidified that i’d really like to keep getting to know you, see where this could lead.”

my head snaps up to look him in the eyes, “you would?”

he giggles at my actions, nodding his head. “yeah, i would.”

his head dips down and i suck in a breath as his lips near mine.

“can i kiss you?” he questions, and i nod.

“yes, please.”

his lips slot against mine, moving in sync and pulling me even closer to him if it’s possible. his hands slide up to cup the back of my neck, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and i part my lips to allow him entrance.

what starts slow and passionate, turns into something hot and heavy. i huff as he pulls away, my lips chasing after his and making him smile.

“do you wanna come inside?” i ask him, my voice low and sultry, and his eyes darken almost instantly.

he smirks, answering only by taking my keys from my hands and unlocking my door, leading me into my own apartment.

“ya know, i don’t think you needed that google search. you’re pretty good at luring me in all on your own.”

[obiwanwhat]

I know someone has probably said this better but. There's really so much about Luke & Ahsoka interactions that can be explored. Because honestly they have every reason to resent each other?

Anakin was arguably much more of a father to Ahsoka than he ever was to Luke (even if he was more of an older brother figure to Ahsoka than an actual father figure). He trained her and built her lightsabers and had a dumb nickname for her and made dad jokes and like - everything Luke ever could have wanted out of his dad. She knew him when he was still Anakin Skywalker and not Darth Vader. She knew Padme!! Padme also was kind of her mom! Luke doesn't even know Padme's name until sometime post ROTJ - it's possible Ahsoka was the first person who could have told it to him.

Not only that, but she had the Jedi Order. She was trained by the Order at its peak, raised from infancy in the rituals and knowledge that Luke now must piece together from whispers from ghosts and whatever old texts he can scrounge up from the corners of the galaxy the Empire somehow missed. He is doing all of this on his own with no guidance, no oversight, meanwhile it's knowledge that came to her as easy as breathing.

And she walked away from all of it. Everything Luke has ever wanted - a relationship with his parents, proper Jedi training, the Jedi Order itself - she had without ever asking for it, and she walked away from it without a backward glance. And she's still walking away from it - she's not a Jedi, she won't claim that title, she won't join Luke's new Order. Maybe she shows up from time to time and tells him some stories and shares from knowledge, but she won't train him, and somewhere deep down he knows that he will never be as much of a Jedi as she is even though she doesn't claim that title anymore, and part of the reason because is she won't help him.

And for Ahsoka's part. Anakin returned from the Dark Side for Luke. He couldn't - or wouldn't - return for Ahsoka, who he trained, who knew him and loved him and would have died for him. He tried to kill her and would have if Ezra hadn't saved her. But this boy, who shares nothing with Anakin but a name and half his DNA - he was enough to bring Anakin back. She wasn't, not with everything they shared, not with all the times she'd almost died for him, and he'd saved her, and she'd saved him. How do you not kind of hate someone for that?

And besides, he's trying to bring back the Jedi Order. The Order that cast her aside as soon as it was convenient for them, the Order that allowed Anakin Skywalker to become what he did and was too blind to see a Sith Lord under their noses and that died for those mistakes. And sure, he's trying to do it differently, he's trying to do it better, but what does this boy know of better? What can he know of the sins of the Jedi Order? When he speaks of the Order with stars in his eyes, what can he know of the pain that she suffered? That so many suffered? How can he correct what he doesn't understand?

I just think it would be cool to see more of that explored in canon.

[abbeym28]

Clarisse La Rue - I'm Your Man

Clarisse x gn! reader from any cabin but Hermes and Ares

An- This is my first PJO fanfic and it took me like a week to write this lol and I don't know if I really like it?? Pls tell me if you catch any mistakes or anything, you guys don't even want to know how many words I couldn't write. But there are about 3,000 words!!! Images aren't mine

Also, I think I will open request, so if anyone want me to write another PJO fanfic pls just send a request!!!!

Warnings!!- Kissing near the end, a weird amount of Chris and Luke, they are like your besties but they are also weird??? One swear, some fights and foreshadowing and stuff, I hope that's it

You hit the ground hard after you had tripped into the boundary that separated your new camp from the outside world. The stayr that had led you here ran past you and yelled a lot of words that somehow your ears couldn't pick up on.

The monster that had been chasing you previously roared and tried to reach out for you, but the force field (or whatever it was) protect you as you watched from the ground. Farther away, there seemed to be more shouts and loud noises.

“There you go, up up up up,” Two different hands gripped onto your biceps and loosened slightly when they had both pulled you up to your feet. They quickly tighten again though once you started to sway forwards.

“Woah, what happened to you?” You blinked and tried to turn to look at the person who had said that, but more shouting and loud thumps plus the strain on your neck caused the shocking feeling of probably the worst migraine of your life stopped you from doing anything.

“Let's take them to the infirmary. Some Apollo kid can take a look at them and then we can show them around once they feel better.”

At that point, the world was started to spin and you felt like you were being moved, but it was hard to tell. You were pretty sure that everything had turned black after a shout of victory filled the air.

You were starting to wish that you were still unconscious on the infirmary bed.

You were following to guys around, Chris and Luke, and they claimed that they were the ones that had help you get to the infirmary in the first place. They were bringing you around the camp, making sure to point out the bizarre and magical things. Like the pegasus.

“And over here, this is where we train. Luke is the best sword fighter in the camp.”

“Don't brag about me like that, it's weird.” Chris laughed and Luke punched him in the arm. They moved out of the taller grass to go towards the more compacted dirt area where other campers were shooting arrows and swinging swords.

You stood still in your spot, watching them. You missed your home and old normal life.

“Move it.” A shoulder bumped into your own, and you don’t know if it was pain or something more, but your whole arm felt as if it was touched by electricity. You jerked back, and the girl that had bumped into you raised an eyebrow. She was facing you now, and two other kids who you assumed were her siblings found a place behind her, as if they were some sort of shoulder pads.

“Well?” She tilted her head to the side, and you mirrored her.

“Is something wrong?” Your question made her two goons snort.

“You’re the newbie, right? Well, it was your monster that gave me this scar. I can hardly wield my spear now!” She pointed to her arm, which you only then realized was set in a cast. You must have been too busy paying attention to how beautiful her hair looked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn't know you were the one fighting it. Thank you.” You nodded and turned away to go back over to Chris and Luke as Clarisse looked a bit confused and surprised.

Well, this might get interesting.

“How is she so pretty?” Your chin sat on the palm of your hand as you continued to stare at Clarisse as she twirled her spear and took the final blow against her opponent, being some kid from the Apollo cabin. Sweat glistened down the side of her face as the sun casted the perfect lighting to cast upon her smirk of victory. A towel was thrown onto your face, blinding you of the surrounding scenery.

“Gods, you kind of disgust me sometimes. No one looks good when they sweat like that.”  Chris shrugged as he whipped his face with a towel of his own.

You scoffed and got up off of the bench that you were sitting on. Training like this was never easy, especially at camp half blood, aka the camp of the Greek demigods. But, it did come with its separate perks.

“But Clarisse does. You shouldn't project on other people just because you aren’t fond of how you look after these battles.” Another towel was thrown at you as you giggled.

“She doesn't even like you that much, even after all of these years. Maybe you should give up trying to get closer to her. Did you see what she tried to do to Per-”

“Clarisse still isn’t really someone you want to interact with. Their are better people at this camp to get along with.” Luke interrupted Chris and handed the two of you cold bottles filled with what you assumed to be water. Chris started drinking it right away, while you sat it down on the bench along with your towel. Chris and Luke had shown you around the camp when you had just arrived, but even back a few years ago, there was just something you knew you needed to be wary of.

Even if Clarisse doesn’t like you the same way you like her, being around her has taught you some things about trusting others. And tips of how to weild a spear.

"As a head counselor, don't you think you should support relationships?” Luke rolled his eyes.

“Your not apart of my cabin, and neither is Clarrise, but I can still be worried about a friend, right?” You hummed and turned to head back up to the dining hall, or maybe your cabin. Anywhere more secluded would be nice at the least.

“Hey! You forgot all of your stuff!”

“A water bottle and towel aren’t stuff, Luke,  I’m good.”

The dining hall became less and less secluded the more the minutes passed. It wasn't really getting late, but teenage campers did find themselves to be very hungry after training and various other activities.

Closing your eyes, you leaned against the wooden pillar behind you and tried to let your mind calm a bit. You couldn't quite shake the bad feeling that seemed to loom over your shoulders.

Did you choose the right group to hang out with? The weight of friendship bracelets weighed down on your wrist. Time and time again, Chris and Luke, and also Clarisse, have proven themselves to be good and trustworthy people. So why did something always feel wrong? Why can’t you just trust them? And what do these feelings say about the future?

The bump of a shoulder against yours made you shake out of your thoughts and forced you to open your eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” Clarisse stood in front of you, slight worry lines creased between her eyebrows. Suddenly the world didn’t seem so dark, and the evil didn’t seem too bad.

You grinned at her and she backed away, letting you take a place by her side. She was carrying some food on a lunch tray in her left hand while her right still clenched around her spear.

“You scared me there!” She hummed as she sat down at a table in the back that no one else was near or sitting at. You sat next to her.

“Don’t you want to go get food?” she focused her attention on placing her spear in a safe position, so she missed the smile that seemed to glow like the moon on your face. She was worrying about you! After a minute passed and with you not answering, she turned towards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” You snapped out of the seemingly lovestruck way you were to answer what she had asked.

“Oh, I’m not too hungry. You don't need to worry about me one bit!” She turned away and picked up her fork to eat the still warm meat and mashed potatoes.

“I wasn’t.” she grumbled. The rest of the lunch was silent, with Clarisse eating and you picking at the peeling paint that still somehow coated the wooden table. The minute she was done shoveling all of the food into her mouth she got up and grabbed her spear. You jumped up after her, following as she returned the tray and left the dining hall.

“What are we gonna do now?”

“Spar. But you don't have to join.” Clarisse’s words sounded firm, but despite the seeming protest against you, she did want to spar with you. You had made great progress since you had first gotten to camp, progress that had made the daughter of the god of war and many others as jealous as it did make them proud. In time, Clarisse found that it might just benefit her to keep you around. You treated her nicely, and you could challenge her abilities while not being upset when she lashes out. You weren’t someone who would just come into her life at any time, but you were more like an anchor that grounded her. Feelings she had never even dreamed of feeling seemed to grow stronger each minute she's next to you.

She was just really terrible at showing it.

The two of you spent the rest of the day up until nightfall fighting. You called it quits first, the want and ache for food and a nice shower were starting to over take the feeling of needing to be around Clarrise.

She walked back with you to the showers, and you had to resist the twitching in your hand that reached to hold Clarisse’s.

With your hair still dripping wet, you made the short walk of going to the dining hall for a snack and then to your cabin. It was the laughter that rang out in the night air and the shadow of Clarisse’s silhouette that made you pause.

“So you don’t really like them, right? Why let them stay close to you like you do?” More questions seemed to arise, all from people you could recognize to be from the Ares cabin.

“We understand that they are useful to you. When it comes to them, it doesn't seem hard to please them either. The way they follow you around just kind of reminds me of a dog, ya’ know?”

Laughter seemed to get louder as the world around seemed to stop and spin faster at the same time. There were calls of your name, or maybe not, who knew? There seemed to be more sounds that sounded like fighting, sounds that remind you of when you had first crash landed at camp.

But all you really seemed to know was the maybe Luke and Chris were right, and that maybe the ground was getting closer, and maybe there were footsteps coming towards you, and maybe-

- You passed out. Chris was pacing back and forth in front of the bed you were laying in. You groaned and moved to sit up.

“Chris, what are yo-”

“OH MY GODS, YOU’RE AWAKE!!!??? ‘Kay, how many fingers am I holding up??” A hand was pushed right in your face but you groaned and paused his hand away and messaged your temple.

"What time is it?”

“It’s noon. You were out for, like, a solid day.” The refermery door opened quickly, making it slam a bit into the wood wall. You winced.

There was no way that your headache was going to go away any time soon.

Both Clarisse and Luke walked in, and there seemed to be some sort of angry tension between them. But they both seemed to loosen up a bit once they both saw you sitting up and watching them. Luke said your name in relief, but then Clarisse pushed past him in urgency.

“Come on, let's go somewhere else,” she grabbed your hand and tried to pull you up, but you did your best to put all of your weight in staying down.

“Clarisse, they just woke up. They need more rest, or at least some food-”

“That doesn’t matter right now, I need to talk to them about something, Luke.'' They were shooting daggers at each other through their eyes. Clarisse sighed and said your name. “Come on, we need to go-”

“Clarisse, I’m staying here.” You could feel the look of shock that she was giving you, but you focused on staring at the white bed sheets that you were fiddling with.

“Your cabin mates were right, and I think I don’t want to be your dog anymore. You don’t have to pretend anything anymore just to make sure you can keep me around, because I don't know if I want to be around you anymore.” The silence that followed your words was deafening. You peeked up through your eyelashes, and it seemed as if Clarisse was literally fuming.

“My cabin mates have no idea about anything they said. You are not a dog, and you have always been-”

“Clarisse, that's enough. They don't want to be near you anymore, so you should leave.” Clarisse glared at Luke, then looked back at you, staring for a long moment. She let out an angered huff.

“Fine, but you better watch your back from now on, Castellan.” And with that, she spun around and stomped out the door, slamming it hard enough that the whole cabin shook and a little vase full of flowers that was sitting on a windowsill fell and shattered into hundreds of pieces. In a strange way, it felt as if your heart could relate to it.

For the next week and a half, Clarisse was the one following you around.

Well, for the most part.

You would catch her staring from a distance while you practice archery with Luke, or when you did swimming lessons with the younger kids and Chris. You knew that she tried to get closer a few times, but with how close Chris and Luke stuck by your side, you could see that this whole situation was frustrating her to no end.

“You guys know you don't have to follow me around like that, right?” you set your lunch tray down on the table and Luke set his food down next to you and Chris sat across from you.

“We have to make sure our favorite camper is safe, right?” Luke patted you on the back as he took a bit of his food and you rolled your eyes.

That night, you snuck away from your cabin and down to the lake. Being out anywhere in camp after dark makes you feel paranoid, but almost nothing could compare to the serene scenery. You sat down on the edge of the lake, where the sand wasn’t that wet and the water's small waves could just barely touch your toes.

You brought your knees up to your chest and sighed and buried your head in them. Why didn’t anything feel right? Was taking a step back from Clarisse really the right answer?

A twig snapped from somewhere behind you and you sprung up and squinted towards the forest. Gods, please let it not be a harpy. But it wasn’t. It was Clarisse.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned her immediately as she walked closer towards you.

“Following you. What are you doing here?”

You stayed quiet and sunk back onto the sand. Clarisse silently sat down next to you, farther away than what you really wanted, but close enough so you could feel the heat of her, the heat that all of Ares’s kids seemed to have.

“I'm here to think. Clarisse, have I- have I been stupid?” The question came out more desperate than how you first wanted it to.

“Yes.” You laughed a bit at how quick her response came. But even with that, tears felt like they were coming into your eyes, and you angled your head to look at her. She was once again already looking at you, her gorgeous brown eyes slightly lidded and a small smile graced her lips.

“I care about you, Clarisse. Like, a lot.” You blurted the words out, and you almost regretted them. Almost, but then Clarisse scotched just a little bit closer to you.

Clarisse whispered your name and brought her hand up to your cheek. Your ears felt hot, and so did the spot that the girl in front of you was softly caressing.

“Why did you push me away like that?”

“Because… you don’t feel the way that I feel for you, and I've known that for years, Clarisse. And, your cabin mates, like, hate me. I just… didn't want to put myself through anything I wasn't prepared for, I guess.” The waves lapping away at the shore was the white noise that saved you from quite literally going crazy.

Clarisse just stared at you.

“Look, I don’t really have… the best relationships with other people, but I know that I care about you too. Also, I beat up siblings for saying all of that shit, so please stop using it as an excuse. ” Clarisse pulled you a little bit closer, as if she was asking a question. You answered it by letting her pull you towards her, and it was you who leaned in first.

The kiss was like a spark, with your lips on hers and with her hands moving to sit on your hips, gripping at them in a way that grounded the both of you just a bit. Your hands went to tangle in her curls, pulling on them gently as the kiss dragged on. You pulled away first, taking deep breaths and looking at Clarisse with wide eyes.

“I’ve been waiting to do that,” She went back in for another kiss, but you put your hands on her chest to make sure she stayed a bit away.

“Clarisse!” you whisper shouted as she blinked at you.

“What?”

“Should we really be, you know-”

She lightly grabbed the fabric of your shirt and pulled you back into her. Your second kiss was just as passionate as the first one, but the second one seemed to tell you so much more.

“I’m in love with you. I want to be yours, and I wish that you could be mine.”

You were taken aback by her words, but they made you weak in your knees and you could swear you were melting.

“I’m in love with you too. Iv'e been yours “

And then with the moonlight illuminating you both, you kissed Clarisse for the third that evening, which was most definitely not going to be the last one before the harpies could find you.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Well Technically...

It is not often that I get an idea that includes Vader (with the genocide and horror that is implied) that makes me giggle.  This however made me giggle. 

So Vader returns to the light right before he dies and comes back as Anakin the Force ghost.  Now despite what it appears this is not a kindness.  Anakin spends decades following his kids and the galaxy at large watching how little his existence mattered (galactically Anakin Skywalker was barely more than a recognizable name, and even that was diminishing as the people who knew of the ‘hero without fear’ died off; Vader would be forgotten even more quickly because no one wanted to remember him) even as he saw the long term consequences of his life (Luke’s struggle with his own identity-both as a man and a Jedi-, Leia’s struggle with her ancestry-finding out that your blood father killed all your other available parents was not a good feeling, Reva healing from the trauma he directly caused, all the ways that Ahsoka had to reshape her own soul to patch the holes Anakin put there, the echoes of the clones that died at his hand and command and the horror of the ones that survived). He has to watch his grandson not only make his mistakes but somehow make them worse, which was something that he did not know was possible. We get all the way through the the sequels, with a heavy emphasis on Anakin watching how the consequences of his actions (particularly the slaughter of the Jedi but many of the the things he did both during the empire and during the war) while acknowledging that he is not even remembered enough to be cursed, how the galaxy has spun on, not just without him but in spite of him and he is not even a footnote. 

After Palpatine’s final, for now, death, Anakin is approached (for lack of a better term) by something shaped like Obi Wan Kenobi, circa the beginning of the clone wars. When this being speaks, it speaks with two voices at once, the Daughter and the Son. It asks if he could go back to before his Fall and change things, would he.

Anakin is sure he would, there are so many things he would do differently. 

The being says that it can send him back to just before his tipping point, where his Fall and all the evil he did became inevitable, but cannot send him back further than that.  Anakin agrees. Just before he sent back the being tells him that should his Fall become inevitable again, they would shred his mind and soul and it would be more excruciating than any pain he had ever experienced. 

Anakin, who had spent 20 years in agony, now had one(1) fear. 

Anakin “closed” his eyes in the Force, wondering when he would be sent back to (Killing Padme, Marching on the Temple, Believing Palpatine over Fives) only to open his eyes as his mother took her last breath. He was back on Tatooine, in the Tusken camp. 

Anakin was confused, this was the point of no return? He had not even thought about the Tusken camp in decades, had not truly considered them at all since Padme absolved him of their slaughter.

But this was also an Anakin that had spent decades in pain, and then decades observing. He was much more patient, by necessity if  not choice, less likely to act on violent impulse then the last time. Also the majority of his rage died in a cloud of lightning with the Emperor.  Instead of killing the Tuskens in a rage, he wept over his mother’s body in the grief he denied himself the first time. The reaction surprises the Tuskens so much (due both to the nature of Tatooine and the animosity between them and the moisture farmers they had not seen human tears of grief before) that they let Anakin take the body and leave. 

They still bury Shmi and go to rescue Obi Wan (though it does not end in a marriage this time). The War still starts but Anakin is also running around trying to fix things, including himself (and actually doing all the actual emotional work on figuring out and fixing his own issues), meditating (Frankly Obi Wan is starting to be concerned that anakin is possessed), trying to not kill anyone (because he really isn't sure what the tipping point about the Tuskens was and does not want to risk it), get the chips discovered in such a way that they do not tip off the Sith (He brings a few clones, including Fives to the temple to Spar and 'accidentally' hits Fives hard enough to knock him out and pracitcally forces Master Che do a deep enough scan), make a list of the people he killed to try and do something nice for them. At some point he decides his ‘penance’ for his life as Vader was that he would somehow bring all the currently known Sith back to the Light (including Palpatine).

In the Force, the Daughter is watching all this, her head in her hand repeating over and over ‘The point of no return was murdering children, you moron. All you have to do is not murder children’. And everything he is doing works towards that goal, but she doesn’t expect him to fix the universe (in my head it is a bit akin to asking someone to tell you an equation that use 2 and equals 4, expecting 2+2 or 2*2 but instead them confidently saying((2xSqRt(100))-40+36)/4)

The Son is watching this all with Force popcorn, this is the most entertaining thing to happen in ages. 

It is important to note that the Dark in this does not mean Evil. It means selfish, which is not the same thing.  You can be a selfish dick and still not be evil.  Mostly in this case it means that for those that inhabit the dark their priority is 1)Their own wants and needs; 2)The needs of the people they like, as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them; 3) The wants or needs of others if it benefits them in some way.  The Son was bored by what the Empire did to the Force, and he found having the Light there (and everything Anakin was doing) entertaining. 

I just keep picturing the Daughter, in the Force, exasperated with Anakin because, yes everything he is doing is good for him and the galaxy but his ONLY job is ‘don’t murder children’ and it never even occurs to Anakin that that was the only act he needed to avoid. 

[lukolabrainrot]

Hey there, what do we think about Nicola’s IG post for Camilla’s bday. It’s a collage of 4 pictures taken by paparazzi of her and Camilla last year and in the caption she said something like remember when the paparazzi took photos and you protected me by covering my face. I feel like that is for sure throwing shade at a certain someone. Like she could’ve chosen any photo with Camilla. She has sooo many, why that one and why this caption. Also the way the photos were stacked looked like A’s recent soho house photos with her friends.

I feel like Nicola’s being very cryptic and sending messages through her posts recently including the scrabble board. I don’t know what that was about exactly but I feel like she posted it for a purpose and the person who that was aimed at would understand. I dunno I might be over analyzing but I think we should paying closer attention to her posts.

I also feel like that means we are headed in a positive direction because it means she cares about Luke and feels protective over him and is letting everyone know, even if there is currently a bit of tension between them. Not saying there is tension but just a feeling that she’s not very happy with how he’s handling things at the moment.

What do we all think?

Ok I just reblogged a post about this, but I am going to add this (and a lot of this is just based on my gut feelings/opinions based off of everything I've seen, so these are all just THEORIES):

First, I want to start by saying we will NEVER know exactly what anyone's SPECIFIC intentions are on SM posts unless the publisher publicly clarifies it.

HOWEVER, N is VERY intentional on SM. So is A. L... not so much (I've known a lot of dudes like him who just don't really care to put a lot of energy/thought into SM, EVEN if they have it and utilize it). So I get the impression this might be the case for him as well. Intentionality takes thought and energy, so I do agree that N and A's recent SM posts are VERY intentional, but what those exact intentions are, again, we will probably never EXACTLY know. What/who is the common denominator between these two women though? L. Sooooo, I feel pretty confident that he is at the root of most of these more "cryptic" posts/stories on N and A's SM.

Now, normally, I would say WTH is a 37 y/o woman doing playing petty and shady SM games with a 23 y/o woman that wants the attention?? Well... I think SM is the only way for them to communicate with each other, and these two women have a LOTT to say to each other (which totally makes sense if ANY of our theories on L/N or the PR tour/papgate/A are accurate). Which is why I do think a lot of N's recent SM activity has been shade, but more directly towards A. Since the London premiere, I personally think L/N are dealing with their complex feelings over everything in private mainly because people are analyzing EVERYTHING they do.

If you have read my other theories on this blog, I don't think L/N are in a terrible place rn (but are very likely having to work through a LOT of complex things in private). I am sure they BOTH aren't happy about how this all publicly played out. And as I have mentioned, I think EVERYONE in this situation has made some mistakes (some more than others though). Please look through my "timelines" posts if you have any more questions on my thoughts on this.

I have also said this before, but I will say it again. N AND A WILL NEVER, NEVERRR BE FRIENDS. Based off of everything I have seen and know about these two women, they have VERY little in common (and A is very insecure and envious of N). Therefore, these two women are probably NEVER going to talk alone face-to-face (I personally don't think A has the cajones to address anything with N to her face). A (based on her public image and actions and everything else we know about her) seems like such a selfish, two-faced mean girl (just my opinion). N appears to be the opposite of that, and I believe would be more inclined to address things with A face-to-face. Since that is not an option though, N has utilized SM to share her real opinions/feelings with A. And yes, I do believe N is protective of L (BECAUSE THEY REALLY LOVE EACH OTHER). I don't have any solid proof on this, it is just a gut feeling, but I think a lot of N's most recent "cryptic" posts/stories are hinting that L/N's connection is not going to be ruptured by immature, selfish, and insecure behavior from A. And I think that is a really good sign for us Lukola fans.

Lastly, who again is the common denominator here? L! Could he have handled this WHOLE situation better? Yes! I've mentioned before though, he got ANNIHILATED on SM after Papgate. And he has been getting hate on SM from people in the fandom for years (him AND N already had to leave Twitter because of all the hate they were receiving). Therefore, I believe he is FED UP, but also TRYING to stay engaged just a LITTLE bit on SM. Yes, N has also gotten a lot of hate on SM, but she and L are very different people, and I get the sense that she is able to navigate the hate a little better than L. Therefore, L has taken a major step back from his public engagement online, and to be really honest, I don't believe he will be returning to his typical public SM activity anytime soon. Now, what other people AROUND him post on SM, I think that has a lot more to do with THOSE INDIVIDUALS than L himself (again, just my opinion). How aware/involved L is with any of these posts/stories that adjacent people in his life are posting, we will probably never know. L is a chronic people pleaser though, and I got the sense from what I have seen that he is not very good at setting firm boundaries with people in his life (which likely played a role in SOME of the SM activity we have seen recently from adjacent people in his life). I think there is a lot of self-reflection going on for him at the moment in terms of determining HOW he wants to move forward in his career and HOW he wants the public to see him. I think he is still figuring it out...

Anywhooo, like I have mentioned multiple times, the whole situation seems to be REALLY messy (and I am almost certain that both L/N didn't want all of this to play out on such a public stage). And we will never know the full story of what was/is going on BTS for everyone. However, a lot of the recent posts/stories from N have been very interestingggg 🤔

[synchodai]

Prompt: Cregan delivers the message that Baela wishes to break her betrothal to Jace.

Word count: 900+

Disclaimer: WIP of an upcoming chapter. The final version will be heavily edited. Full fic on AO3.

Lady Baela's message was easy enough to deliver. The difficulty was watching Jace receive it. They had a view of the entire courtyard atop the parapets. The northmen's arrival breathed a new life into it, regardless of how tense and uneasy their interactions were with the southron knights. Steel clashed on steel and the clacking of horseshoes filled the air, but instead of watching the men-at-arms ready themselves for battle, the king looked out to the Blackwater and towards the narrow sea.

"So, that's the end of it?" said Jace, his voice distant.

Cregan frowned, a storm welling in his chest. He wanted to ask what the Lady Baela meant when she spoke of Jace delaying their wedding. It means that we are at war. Did Jace have any feelings for her? Why does it matter? Cregan loathed to think that he had anything to do with this — with Jace forsaking his duty to his betrothed. Oh, but she knows. His clenched fingers felt the scar on his palm even through his moleskin glove. Clearly, she knows.

"I'm sorry, Jace," said Cregan. From the outside, he sounded like a brother offering comfort or a humble servant excusing himself. But between the two of them, they heard the guilt in his voice.

"Rest easy, Cregan," reassured Jace. "Between the two of us, it's not you Baela despises."

"She seems to believe this decision was in your best interests. She mentioned you finding a new queen. The war has made landed widows aplenty."

"More vultures come to my court to make opportunity of tragedy," scoffed Jace. "Baela would have made a fine queen. You've met her, and I am no fool. Our betrothal was arranged to bolster my claim to the throne — a claim that grows weaker with every passing day. If the gods were just and I were not my father's son, she would have been my queen and Luke would have been Lord of Driftmark with Rhaena as his lady. It seems the more I fight for this damnable throne, the more what I had thought certain gets whittled away. For years, I was convinced Baela was my future."

"It is within your rights refuse her," muttered Cregan, though he did not sound entirely convinced himself. "You are the king. You needn't accept her terms if you find them disagreeable."

"No, Baela sees through me," sighed Jace. "When I told her of us, she said it was a strange relief that she need not pretend to be a lady for my sake. This, too, I feel is a strange relief."

"Ah, so you told her... of us?" Cregan was caught off guard, letting out an awkward cough. "I hope you did not make the mistake of choosing 'us' over a queen," he managed to say.

Jace chuckled dryly. He then leaned over Cregan's shoulder and whispered, "Would it really be such a mistake?"

Cregan coughed again, raising his fist to his face to conceal the heat on his cheeks. "As your Hand, I would advise against it. You'll need a worthy and willing queen to give you heirs — that much is common sense. But as a man..."

Cregan's eyes held Jace's dark gaze for a heartbeat. There were many things he could have said. As a man, I do not expect to be chosen. As a man, I must sacrifice and be sacrificed. As a man, I have been taught that what I desire shall never be mine lest I take it. As a man, never has something so precious been so freely and willingly mine. As a man, I am weak.

But Cregan did not say any of it. Instead, he shook his head as he looked away. "I am sworn to give you all I can, Jace, but an heir is sadly beyond me."

Though the king claimed to be relieved, Cregan could not help but notice the clench of Jace's jaw, his pursed lips, and how tightly he gripped the stone as he leaned over the parapet coping. Try as he might to conceal it, Jace was upset.

Cregan was no stranger to mourning lost loves. Just a few years ago, Jace had been one of them. It mattered little what Jace and Baela had — surely the loss of it devestated all the same. Cregan put a comforting arm on his friend's shoulder, just as he did two years ago when Jace first came to Winterfell.

"Any woman would be lucky to have you," muttered Cregan. A common line said between heartbroken men, but he meant it in earnest nevertheless.

And suddenly, Jace kissed him. With Cregan's back pressed against the wall, away from the eyes of those below, Jace's lips brushed against his, their breath mingling in the chill air. Even through his boiled leather and their cloak of heavy furs, Jace's heart pounded against Cregan's own chest — so close that he could not tell his king's heartbeat from his own.

"If only you were a woman," breathed Jace.

So brief was that moment, Cregan would have thought he imagined it, were it not for the lingering taste of woodsmoke upon his lips.

[bluevelvt]

inquisitor anakin with obikin au is this anything

palpatine’s timeline is moved up and the clone wars start six or seven years earlier. the events of tpm remain untouched, so anakin is obi wan’s padawan and his commander throughout this whole time. when general grievous is found on utapau, obi wan is sent to kill him like in canon, with anakin remaining on coruscant for his safety. unfortunately, palpatine executes order 66 and anakin is at the heart of it

anakin is not so integral to palpatine’s plans as he’s in his mid-teens at this point, but palpatine still wants him and while anakin is able to escape the temple and hide for a bit, he is eventually caught without knowing what happened to his master and palpatine is able to use all this and the various torture methods at hand to break anakin and have him agree to become an inquisitor. perhaps palpatine originally wanted anakin as an apprentice, but it’s too early to tell and the fact that anakin hangs on to hope and the idea that his master will come and save him for so so long, resistant to inquisitorius’ efforts, well he’s a fine tool as a dark sider, but a sith apprentice? that remains to be seen

five or so years pass and obi wan has been in hiding. without having to protect luke or leia, he only stays in one place for so long. it’s a thing of survival, but somewhere and buried obi wan secretly hopes he will find his padawan because he has to believe anakin escaped (he desperately hopes anakin made it off coruscant somehow because he knows if his padawan didn’t, there could be a fate worse than death for him) when obi wan uses the force after years of having it locked away to save somebody like cal did with prauf on bracca, an inquisitor is sent to hunt down the jedi

the eleventh brother had been sent to hunt down jedi many times now, so this report is nothing special. kill or capture them, whatever seems best. eleventh brother usually does the former. it is all standard, just a lead really without much information but if there is a jedi, he will be able to find them no matter what. what is not standard, is to find a jedi he knew when he was still a padawan. what is not standard, is seeing your old master who died abandoned you left you hated you

obi wan has seen inquisitors before, but not this one who wears a helmet fully obscuring his face with a vocoder so not even his voice can be recognised, although through all the alterations, it sounds familiar. and when the eleventh brother sees you in the crowd, gaze hidden by red transparisteel but boring into you all the while, he pauses and takes off his helmet to reveal a face you know so well and could never mistake even though the face belongs to a young man now and not an awkward teen, marked by a scar bisecting his right eye and the lack of a braid. it’s anakin. your padawan is the eleventh brother. and you know that death would have been a kinder fate for him than this

where this all goes from here? not certain but once they are reunited and anakin is not trying to kill or capture obi wan, well it’s been a good while and obi wan can’t exactly be blamed for finding anakin attractive (and maybe falling in love with him) and anakin has never been normal about his old master

i’ll figure out more but i mostly just wanted anakin as an inquisitor and you know one lone candle is enough

[babbletaels]

Like the problem I have with the jedi are the way they're a large institution that thinks they know what's best for everyone and breeds that mindset into their pupils. There are rules they have to follow to not get shunned from the jedi order, we see this as anakin can't tell anyone he's married and about to have children. It's apparently so secretive that even after anakin is left half dead and whats left of his body is actively burning to a crisp, Obi wan still doesn't call for help for padmé to give birth. It's only him and a robot! sorry I mean "droid" or whatever.

They freely host these rules that make their members want to hide their "mistakes" and their flaws instead of being able to work on their issues, and they see no fault in this system until it all goes wrong of course. It's clearly displayed this way for a reason, no?

One of the issues the jedi have is that they recruit children as young as possible, and when a person becomes a jedi they're not allowed to meet their family again because they're constantly on the job basically. We hear this being talked about in the movies and in shows too. I almost thought it was just a once or twice happenstance kind of thing, because anakins mom was a slave so she couldn't follow them, but it seems like they just literally do this every time. It's not healthy for children to be taken away from their families. Even kids from abusive or otherwise incapable families will have trauma from being taken away from their family. Even surrogate children can display trauma because of this.

Ask yourself, why are the jedi portrayed to do this instead of being portrayed as letting their pupils go home on the weekends or going home on summer break or why are they not portrayed as getting to bring one of their parents? You think it's unrealistic, that they can't host that many families. But there's fire in space. There's light sabers. There's an entire planet that's just one big industrialized city - and people actually like that place and want to be there. Why can't there be a family quarters? Some parents probably don't want to move and will let their kid go alone, so you can still have stories about sad kids who miss their parents.

The jedi are just simply portrayed as having flaws. Their methods of bringing up padawans became their downfall when one of their pupils couldn't handle these situations. In A new hope, only two jedi are left alive. They take in Luke who is an adult and train him to be a jedi, even though the jedi order doesn't take in adults to train them to become jedi. And Luke turns out great, so like what's even the issue. Why can't they take in force sensitive people of all ages based on requests? Post flyers that say "is your kid scaring you by making things fly? contact us". Everyone in the galaxy already know what the jedi order is. Instead of going somewhere and saying "your kid is force sensitive, I want to take him with me to train him because he's dangerous blah blah, and you have to make the decision right now" just let people contact you when they feel like they need you? And also let your employees have some time off where they can visit their fucking families?

Like the jedi order has flaws! Why are people so pissy when you point out that they have flaws, when the movies and everything ever deliberately made these flaws a thing in the first place! They didn't need to have flaws, they could've been perfect if they had been written as such!

[h0ck3yl0v3r]

a pearl

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

lh43 x bestfriend!reader

have not been feeling too good so here is this

warnings: angst. swearing, toxic luke? (a/n: please note this is not real, luke seems so sweet, just wanted to write some angst.) arguments, lmk if there’s anything else

winter time, a time of gathering, gift giving, and love. see you had decided to befriend hockey star luke hughes freshman year, it is now sophomore year and everything was great, but thats when things started to fall apart. skip months later when everything seemed to be getting better, it wasn’t.

the most inseparable duo. some people even thought you guys were dating, but you weren’t. every time he invited you out to a party halfway through the night he’d forget about you for some random girl.

the thing is though, you had feelings for luke. classic falling for your best friend. no matter what luke always made you feel so special. whenever people mistake you for a couple you want nothing more than for it to be real.

luke was bound to leave for the nhl soon. with the playoffs coming up, you didn’t know what could happen, at what moment luke may just have to up and leave.

he had already packed majority of his stuff sending it off to jack.

today was another day of that, and you decided to help him. “thanks for helping out, you’re the only organized person if i had asked anyone else my stuff would probably not make it to jersey.” luke said giving you a side hug, which you gave him a smile in response before placing everything left of his in boxes.

small conversations were created here and there but now it was time for the moment of truth.

speak now or never right?

“hey luke can i talk to you about something?” you asked while he nodded and sat on Dylan’s bed, his already being gone.

“i don’t know when you’re gonna be leaving, and i don’t want it to be before i tell you what i’ve been wanting to say.” you started and he looked at you confused. “Luke i like you, like more than a friend. I have for a while now and i needed to tell you because it was eating me alive.” you said letting out the breath you didn’t realize you held in before he got up. “i’m sorry but i don’t feel the same, and i’m kind of already talking to someone else, you’re just my best friend thats all sorry.” he said shrugging and you couldn’t help but let out a sob you tried to muffle with your hands grabbing your things walking down the stairs.

“wait y/n come back, i didn’t mean it like that.” he said trying to get you to stop walking. “no luke. you don’t get to try and get me to stay after being a complete asshole. do you know how many times you have forgotten about me at parties or anywhere else and i still saw the best of you. how i feel so fucking unlovable, you would treat me so well, i looked at you like you hung the stars and i thought we had something special but no. you’re just like any other guy. toy around with girls feelings and leave them in the dust once you find someone else. i hope jersey treats you well, and find a new best friend luke because i am done.” you said before walking out, walking away from something you held onto for far too long.

[lauraneedstochill]

I've never liked to think that Aemond is evil, just someone who's been hurt too much time and time again and saw no justice for it; do you think he's evil? or that there's more to it than simply that? That he genuinely cares about people, his mother, his family?

I do not consider show!Aemond evil — I’d like to believe that, as the definition of the word suggests, you have to be more immoral and wicked, perhaps even a bit sadistic to be downright evil. I see him as calculating, emotionless, cold, and that paired with everything he’s done makes him a villain but not necessarily evil (…yet?).

his current feelings, though? I have no fcking clue because the show is doing a very poor job of explaining them properly. to me, Aemond from Season 1 and Aemond from Season 2 are two different people.

🔪 S1 Aemond, yes, he cared about his mother (she sought justice for him when no one else did, she offered him comfort even when she couldn’t fully understand his struggles), his family (he’d grow up thinking he had to step up and be the responsible one — to eventually take pride in becoming someone his family can rely on), and he knew what loyalty was, despite not being ecstatic about the order of things (Alicent did drill “in the world we must defend our own” into her kids' heads, and you bet, he was the fastest learner). the real tragedy of Aemond — to me — was about his deepest desires and his arrogance clashing with the picture-perfect image he’s grown into and didn’t mind portraying as it got him the love and trust of the ones he cared about, the approval and respect of everyone else. but his desires are too big and burning, and his arrogance is only fuel: of course, he deserves it all and he should take it — and he can take it BUT it will ruin the image he’s crafted and the bonds he’s formed. raised by the woman who put duty above all, can he betray everything she taught him to believe in? there are a few ways things can go from there but all the paths lead to his self-isolation and his downfall, although he keeps trying and trying to prove something till the very end, and it’s sad because it’s relatable — we are all trying, we all hate feeling that we are capable of more but simultaneously aren’t enough. if only he put all that effort somewhere else, maybe he could’ve been happier but we will never know. he dies young.

🔪 but S2 Aemond? they packed his character development in the tiniest bag and it’s never been opened once. the writers are so keen on blaming Aegon for everything, they don’t realize that making Aemond do a 180 because of one unfortunate joke is a disservice to the character. him deciding that regicide and fratricide aren’t a big deal is as wild as it is dumb: there’s no way he didn’t know it would damage his relationships with the very few people who loved him. how long can you milk “he was bullied as a child” before it bites you in the ass and makes your super-cool-much-wow character look like a thin-skinned boy who holds on to every offense instead of idk MOVING ON? because he did get his justice — he got the biggest dragon as a fuck you to the people who made fun of him for not having one, he only got stronger despite losing an eye, he got to be his mom’s most precious son and he DID get Luke killed (even if by mistake, the result is still the same — the bastard who maimed him won’t ever make fun of him again). how is that not enough? who and when decided that Aemond becoming a bully himself would be a great achievement? why holding him accountable for what he did isn’t fair but him being vengeful left and right is praised and cheered for? and he is not complex, I’m sorry, he just isn’t. he’s been robbed of proper reasoning and conflict, and I am getting tired of trying to peer into his one eye to get a hint of emotion while S1 Aemond could at least grant us little outbursts here and there to confirm that he is a human being and he can successfully keep his facade up while also having feelings.

S1 Aemond was many things, all of them fascinating. S2 Aemond makes me want to skip to the scenes of Daemon getting high and scared in some leaking castle (and I’m starting to wonder if maybe that’s the point?).

anyways, I hope Ryan Condal will be out of job when the show is over.

[tessarionbestgirl]

Aemond and Alicent are getting a lot of hate from TG now, mostly Aegon stans. I agree that the show did Aegon dirty, but same goes for Aemond and Alicent. Bad writing affects them, too. However, some people tend to twist the narrative to show Aegon as the only victim. What's your opinion on this? Does Aemond owe an unyielding loyalty to Aegon? Should Alicent support Aegon more?

I am glad someone ask me this because I have so many thoughts on this subject. So first about Aegon's characterization compared to the book, in the book Aegon goes from a hedonistic character to competent leader and someone that cares about his family to fast. What the show is trying to do in my opinion, is slow his progression, we may get see book Aegon, later, even spoilers going around suggest we may get Criston Cole Kingmaker speech to him after Rook Rest. What is always a important thing because is supposed to be a inverse parallel in arcs compared to Rhaenyra, she starts as the Realm's Delight and then become Maegor with tits.

The rape scene I think was necessary? No, do I think is ooc? Absolutely not. We had a 12 year old girl sucking his dick in the book. The children's fighting ring may have been to much and unnecessary, but is not as like the show as well didn't made Rhaenyra way more stupid compared to her book version by having white babies and trying to pass them as bastards from a black guy.

The show is always going to choose a change for a more dramatic effect, so Aemond betraying Aegon is way more interesting than he just being a loyal dog to him. And it have been set up for this. We have Aegon bullying his ass when they are child, even though for Aegon this was nothing serious, because Aegon lacks knowledge of boundaries, he is the guy that bullies his younger brother, the guy that he masturbates naked from his own bedroom window, he is the guy who rapes a girl because he was too drunk and then tries to brush off, to her mom the same way he tried to brush off the fact he bullied his brother, "it was nothing serious". So of course makes sense a drunk adult Aegon humiliate Aemond in such intimacy moment while none of this friends laugh.

Of course Aemond who has desire for power and reflects this in the same way that Daemon desires to be king, and he truly believe he is more suited to be king, thing he said himself to Cole last season, so of course he would take a opportunity that presents it self with Aegon rush into a battle.

And this also adds to Aemond's arc as king slayer because killing Luke may have been a mistake, but burning his own brother was not. Tg being mad that their expectations of those characters didn't match up, doesn't equal bad writing in my view. But also, this coming from me, I don't like Fire and Blood because is a objectively a bad book and is full of inconsistencies, one of then is the battle Rook Rest, in each the show done better.

So does Aemond owe an unyielding loyalty to Aegon? This is hard question to answer because, I don't consume media like that. For me Aemond own nothing to Aegon, betraying him is not morality right, but is not ooc for those reasons I said previously. Like we have favorite characters on this show but we must have in mind those are very gray characters that can be very terrible people and this is a tragic story. The worse possible outcome of things will happen, for dramatic effect or to add to tragic story even if they have good intentions at first.

Now about Alicent, look I think people when analyzing that scene with her on the room forget all the events that happened to Alicent at this point. Alicent in previous council meetings have asking him to proceed with precaution, he ignore her and is rude to her, showing no respect for her, or for anyone on that table, then when Otto comes with idea for pr move he accepts, but Alicent end part of it, something she didn't want and have to watch her own daughter have a breakdown. Then all her effort goes to the trash because Aegon kill every rat catchers and banishes Otto the only person that not only have Aegon best interest but as well it gives Alicent voice in the council.

Tell me now how she wouldn't be pissed at him for him acting so reckless and not listing anyone while banishing away her father? And maybe in other circumstance she would speak to him in a different way. We saw how in the first small council scene she blames the Lannister for the kid behavior because she knows her own son.

But, here we are seeing a drunk mother that is in a middle of life crises very angry at her son.

So the words she would soft spoken to him in other circumstance she says more flatly , with no filter. But none of them are untrue, when she compared him to his father, people don't realize she is not saying Viserys was a good king, and Aegon is trash. She saying that Viserys used to listen to people around him when comes to the best interest of the realm. What Aegon does not.

When she says him to do nothing, people forget she also said he should learn first with all of them in the table. She is basically saying "be more humble and before giving your opinion or do something stupid, learn from others" but Aegon doesn't listen that, what he listens because of his own insecurities and trauma is " my mom find me useless and I have to prove myself because I'm not a fraud."

And you can not blame Alicent for Aegon internalized logic. Is sad he feels this way. But I am already spoken on how they showed Aegon have the same education than Aemond, but he didn't take that seriously, all this in S1 with that training scene, and this lead him to be the terrible leader that he is now and his own insecurities.

Should Alicent support Aegon more? Maybe she should be a more loving mother, but we can't forget her motherhood is a direct response of who she is as person and she is a very flawed individual as anyone and she can have bad days as anyone.