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sunset-curve-fantom · 4 years ago

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What If- Alive!Luke x Reader

You had spent countless hours attempting to find out the perfectly logical reasoning as to why Luke had blown you off today… But there you were at a two-hour meeting with the wedding planner with no real excuse as to why you were alone yet again.

This was a moment you had been looking forward since you met Luke Patterson. He was a light that was brought into your life right after you lost your Dad, and he was the rock to help you grieve. But no sooner did you become friends, did the two of you fall head over heels for each other. From 17-year-olds to now, everything you did was to further your careers. After all Sunset Curve was your brilliant idea after meeting Alex and Reggie at school.

You wanted nothing more than to live your life out with Luke, he was the one person that meant the world to you. No matter what happened, your love was always a constant.

Flash forward to this moment, where the anger was finally taking over you. How dare he stand you up, again. He was so caught up in the band and the new music, that he forgets that you are also a member. Not like you can play without the rhythm guitarist- but in Luke’s mind he could do anything he wanted.

More than anything you just wished you had the time to be yourselves again, full of happiness and love without the pressure from the band, and record labels, and fans. Just two seconds to focus on you, and this wedding you both desperately wanted- well at least you desperately wanted.

You marched right into rehearsal- they had already started your new song and you weren’t even there! Seriously?

Reggie caught you gaze as you came into the room, the anger clearly emanating off you. He stopped playing, before catching Alex’s attention. They were trying to stay out of the middle of a fight, but lord knows that was not going to happen. Especially now- you were there, and you were angry.

“Hey lover, where ya been?” Luke said as you approached him, he went in for a kiss. You held your hand up in front of your face. Reggie sucked in a deep breath behind you- he knew Luke was in trouble now. You never avoided a kiss, no matter how angry.

“Where have I been? You are kidding me, right? I know that did not just come out of your mouth.” You said, anger gripping your words as you tried to hold back the screaming. You felt hot tears beginning to pool in your eyes. This cannot be happening; he doesn’t even remember.

“Uh-no. I seriously have no idea where you have been all day. We had to start rehearsal without you, you know we have this big showcase coming up. I need you on your game, lovebug.” He said ruffling your hair, trying to get back into rehearsal. But that was the final straw, you couldn’t contain the pain in your chest as anger erupted in your words.

“Are you actually kidding me? You want to complain to me about being late, and missing things? Luke, you want this huge future for us, for you and me, when I am barely a part of your life now. I have become a shadow in your world, and that is unacceptable. You have music is coursing through your veins and that is truly remarkable but now- now I am a background player again. I am the rhythm guitarist that you sometimes pay attention to, but that’s usually when I fuck up. When we started this together, the band- our future was supposed to include each other and now I am just a face in the crowd. The sad part is you don’t even notice how alone I am.” You screamed at Luke.

He yet again forgot another meeting and he didn’t even know it. If it wasn’t band related, then it wasn’t important, per usual. So yup, he forgot the meeting with the wedding planner and here you were screaming at him, in the middle of rehearsal. You were nothing- and that was clear after today.

“You are being ridiculous, I forgot one meeting, one stupid meeting. It is not the end of the world- you are blowing this completely out of proportion, Y/N. I don’t know why you are acting like a brat.” Luke said back, anger hanging on to every word. Tears sprung to your eyes; you were not being ridiculous. This was your wedding for fucks sake. This was supposed to be your big day and now- god now you don’t even know him.

“I am ridiculous? Luke, are you fucking blind? Clearly you missed the memo again because the meeting was for our wedding, you know the day where I wear a big white dress and commit my life to you? Do you have dementia or something? Cause apparently you forgot about even proposing to me, because YOU HAVE MISSED EVERY MEETING WE HAVE HAD. I am not being a brat, I am upset, and angry, and heartbroken because I thought I was going to spend my life with you but now- now that is over. I am done trying to be perfect for you, and for this band, and for the whole fucking world. I am done. I-I-I just can’t anymore. You now have the perfect what if situation, because what if I never met you, I wouldn’t be so fucked up.” You raised your voice, clearly angry at him. You yanked your ring off your finger placing it on his amp and turning on your heel. This just was not working- not anymore, if he made some effort then maybe- but now, you had no idea what you saw in him all those years ago.

You heard heavy steps behind you, so you ran. Trying to reach the comfort of your car, not wanting to have another fight. You had just dumped Luke, and you didn’t even mean too. Everything you said- you never meant. You were just so mad, you heard Luke’s voice behind you, “WAIT”

You closed your car door behind you, briskly pulling out of the driveway. You could see Luke in your rearview mirror- Reggie was comforting him. You knew he was heartbroken- but you couldn’t be a background pawn any longer. You were supposed to be his future wife, and he treated you like dirt.

You drove around for what felt like hours before going to the one place you knew Luke wouldn’t be- Alex’s apartment.

Wiping your cheeks, you knocked softly on the door. Waiting for Alex to pop his head out, but instead it was Reggie who opened the door,

“Hey Reg- can I come in? I’m just not ready to go home”

He nodded, stepping to the side. He knew how much you were hurting; Reg was your best friend and you confided everything in him. He knew that Luke had blown off multiple meetings and he knew how confused you were, he was so happy about the wedding in the beginning and now- he could give two shits about it, clearly.

You plopped down on the couch; Reggie followed close behind. He knew you just needed a listening ear.

“Reg… I-I-I” You couldn’t even find the words before sobs began pouring out of you. You thought you and Luke were going to be endgame and now- that probably wasn’t going to happen. You had ruined everything with your mouth getting in the way.

“I am only going to say this once- you have not lost him. You are his entire world, no matter how much he has fucked up” Reggie said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He knew Luke better than anyone and what he was saying was the truth, Luke would go down fighting for you.

You giggled under your breath, “Yeah I know Reg, you don’t speak girl. But thanks for trying. I just messed up today, I let my anger get the better of me but at the same time Luke shouldn’t have stood me up, AGAIN. I mean you know how it has been, it’s awful. Like I am pretty sure the wedding planner thinks I am marrying myself. How am I supposed to plan a wedding when he is too busy for even a simple meeting? Like he would probably miss our wedding day all together because he is so damn busy…” You said, trying to bring humor to the situation. Luke was your person and now, now you needed to fix everything.

You looked at Reggie who hadn’t spoken to you, but you followed his gaze to the kitchen. There was Luke, with his head deep as anything in the fridge eavesdropping on your conversation. He was seriously a five-year-old.

“Seriously Luke? Do you have to listen into everything? I am not exactly happy with you!” You said annoyed.

He chuckled at you, “I know you aren’t happy with me. But I wanted to give you space, I didn’t think you would come here… I thought you would go home. I didn’t think you would actually want to see me. ”

You shook your head, “I didn’t want to intrude, that is why I came here instead. I didn’t want another fight, cause I am tired of it. I am tired of feeling less. ”

He walked towards where you were sat, “Honey- there would be no fighting. I am going to make this simple. I love you- and I wish I had known how much of an idiot I have been. I love you more than anything in this world, including my music. You are the inspiration behind everything I do, and I am so so so so sorry I forgot the meetings. I have been trying so hard to plan things in advance so we could have an incredible wedding. Oh baby, I am so so sorry for making you feel less. You are my whole world, hell my whole solar system and I wish I had noticed how sad you have been. I want nothing more to be your husband, if you will still have me...?”

Tears ran down your face, “You really wanted to marry me?”

He laughed, wiping tears off your face with his thumb, “of course, you dork. I wouldn’t have asked in the first place if I didn’t.”

You threw yourself off the couch and into his grip, it was the first time in a long time you felt safe and at home. You tightened your grip around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He just chuckled in your ear before pressing his lips to yours, it was like you were made for each other. Every kiss felt like it was molded perfectly for the two of you.

You truly were a match made in heaven.

“That’s like super gross…. Can you go home and have sex? I really don’t need that image in my living room, especially on my new carpet.” Alex said, causing laughter to escape from the both of you.

“Too late for that bud... that carpet is way broken in. ” Luke said before throwing you over his shoulder. Trying to run away form the horrified look rested on Alex’s face.

You were barely out the door when you heard Alex screaming orders at Reg, “OH MY GOD, REGINALD GET THE STEAM CLEANER. I-UH-UH I NEED TO CLEAN. THIS IS DISGUSTING. I LAY ON THIS CARPET. UGHHHH”

You were home, and that was the most important thing to you. You knew some way, some how Luke was your endgame and that was not going to change.

@parkeret @coldlamaspersonspy @calamitykaty @all-in-fangirl

#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson smut #luke #reggie #reggie x reader #reggie julie and the phantoms #alex #alex x reader #alex julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie x reader #julie x luke #julie #luke julie and the phantoms

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lelenoir · 4 years ago

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pairings: childhood friend!dong sicheng x reader [ft. wong yukhei]

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: wherein sicheng always thought that he would spend the rest of his life with you. only to be smacked with the bitter truth.

dedicated to: engel @jenoir, the no to my noren.

inspired by: the song it's over, isn't it? from steven universe

note: hellooo finally got this out after rotting away for days hehe. anyways i hope you like it!! it'll probably be my last fic for a while since school and stuff and also my other blog. this was supposed to be a small drabble but i guess the universe had other plans KSKSK

DONG SICHENG ALWAYS LOVED YOU.

It was always written in his stars, always engraved in stone and he always believed that the moment he laid eyes on you he was struck by Cupid's bow and arrow. Of course, he never noticed this until later on.

It happened in your local playground. The tall---at least in his standard---five year old boy buzzing with joy as he rode his bike across the street. His hair flowed freely with the wind as he fought the urge to raise his hands up. Legs pedalling as if he was in a race against the fastest cyclists around the globe. The world blurred in his vision, pure bliss coursing through his veins. As a toddler, he didn't want that moment to end.

Unable to contain it any longer, the boy slowly let go of the handles, ghosting the rubber for a few more moments until he finally decided to let it go. For him, in his toddler state of mind, nothing could compare to the feeling he felt that moment. The street of his small childhood town zooming all around him as he let the world's breath engulf him. It looked like what Luke Skywalker saw whenever he drove a spaceship in that movie his brother always watched.

The moment only lasted for five seconds. It all happened so fast. One minute he was on top of the world, the next he was tumbling down fast. The ground hitting him hard. His hands were quick to hold on to his wounded knee as soon as he landed, eyes closed from the pain and a strong hiss leaving his lips. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched the blood on his exposed flesh. He groaned when he tried to touch it.

"That was stupid." Three simple words. One simple statement. And you had his whole attention on you. Eyes wide from shock but you mistake it as confusion. "What you did. That was stupid." You repeated as if he was dumb. A dull look rested on your eyes as you looked down on him. It took him by surprise when he saw your extended arms in front of him. He couldn't help but gawk at the gesture. "What? Aren't you gonna take it?"

Slowly, he did. Gulping slightly as he stood up, wincing once he felt the sting of his wound. "It's just a graze. Nothing serious." You spoke up once again. His eyes looking towards your face, only to see you staring at his knee. "Do you need help walking?" You asked, finally meeting his gaze.

He was speechless. He'd never talked to anyone that wasn't his brother or his classmates. He rarely ever talked to the girls in his class, in fear of the disease his brother dubbed as cooties.

"You okay?" You quirk an eyebrow at him, making him flinch up in alertness. His hands felt slightly clammy as he clenched and unclenched them.

"Yeah…" he trailed off, voice barely a whisper. He saw you break into a smile. It shook him to the core. Especially with how intimidating you've presented yourself to be. He didn't know why but he wanted to see it again.

"So… walk?" You asked once more. It was like a switch had been turned on inside of you. Sicheng felt a bit confused on what to feel about the current change in aura as he slightly nodded his head in reply. You hummed, nodding your head once as you made your way to his fallen bike. You pulled it up with such ease. Even he had a difficult time carrying the heavy thing. You steadied the bike with your hands, walking to him as you let the bike trail next to you. "Where do you live?"

Sicheng should've felt embarrassed. After all, a girl, of all people, was walking him home. Him. It should've been the other way around. He felt like an utter loser having tears threatening to spill from his eyes while a girl carried his bike for him. He sighed, preparing himself for his brother's endless teasing.

"What's your name?" He spoke up, halfway through the walk. So far none of you thought of initiating into another conversation, basking in each other's company in the form of silence. "I'm Sicheng, Dong Sicheng."

You didn't even flinch at his question. "Y/n" you replied, eyes never leaving the path ahead until you turned your head to look at him for a second before turning back once again. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n." Maybe it was his pea sized brain or just his lack of comprehension but you clearly didn't want to start a conversation. "What school do you go to? I don't think I've ever seen you around."

"I'm homeschooled." You answered. "My mom teaches me." Sicheng gaped at the revelation, never ever meeting someone like you.

"That's so cool!" He exclaimed. "I wish I was homeschooled. That way I won't have to wake up too early just to get to school."

You only hummed in reply, ready to fall back into your comfortable silence. Sicheng suddenly gasped. "That means you don't get to see other kids!" He says it like it was the biggest breakthrough of the century. "Doesn't it get very lonely?" He laid his head to the side in question.

"Not really," you shrugged, "I'm kind of used to it."

He gasped once again. "You shouldn't though."

"'Life isn't always what you expect it to be.' is what my mom told me a lot. I guess I just preferred to accept it rather than dwell on it too much." You explained, keeping your expression as undecipherable as possible. It drove five year old Sicheng's brain crazy.

"Then I'll be your friend." He declared, pointing his thumb on his chest. "Heck, I'll be your best friend!" He shouts joyfully.

Your eyes widened at his words, not really used to such enthusiasm. Still, a small smile cracked on your features once again. He didn't know if you saw it but Sicheng felt his eyes beam up at the sight of it. You nodded your head. "Okay."

A proud smile adorned the little boy's face, not minding his previous concerns as he walked alongside you. The wound still hurt from walking but his mind seemed to have flown elsewhere, its current occupation slightly numbing the pain of his nerves.

You were the coolest girl he's ever met.

DONG SICHENG LOVED YOU UNKNOWINGLY.

Barefaced and a little tired, you laid your body down on the grass next to him. You sighed, eyes up the stars as Sicheng took it all in. Not the night sky but you. A content smile on his features as he indulged himself with your presence.

"First day of school…" you breathed out. "I wonder how everything would turn out."

He noticed the way your fingers toyed amongst themselves, saw how your breathing slowly turned erratic. In all the years Sicheng has known you, this is the first time he's ever seen you this nervous. Tomorrow was the start of highschool for the both of you. For Sicheng, he wasn't nervous. Maybe a small bit but that was normal as first day jitters. You, on the other hand, were a different story. It was your very first time coming to school after being sheltered by your mom for so long. Sure she never intended it and it was mostly your refusal to go to school that made her teach you in the first place, but none of that helped calm your nerves.

A billion questions rang in your head. A billion possibilities playing along with it. You were in a whirlpool of your own thoughts and you were gasping for air.

Luckily, Sicheng was there to pull you out. His hand intertwining with yours as he drew circles to calm you down. He knew that always calmed you. He felt your body relax next to him. A good sign. He smiled at his small accomplishment.

"Don't worry," he tightened his hold on your palms but not to the point where it would hurt. Only to make you feel his presence more. "I'll be right here."

Highschool rolled in as normally as it could. You were nervous as you walked down the halls but you kept your face relaxed. Sicheng's presence next to you adds up to your ease as he tries to tell you as much as he can about school. Still, knowing Sicheng, he wasn't really as social and loud as he was with you. In these halls he tried to put up a mask for your sake. He smiled at unfamiliar people, nodded his head whenever they greeted him and even said a few 'hi's and 'hello's just to ease your doubt.

With that you smiled. And god he would never get tired of that sight. For a moment the two of you didn't move. For a moment it was just you and him. For a moment he let himself fall for you. He wished he could stay there with you, not a care in the world as he held on to your gaze. He thanked the stars for bringing you to him.

Sadly, even that moment had to end.

He was never one for crowds but seeing your guarded position and tense posture made him want to assure you that everything was going to be okay. He offered you an assuring smile which you returned gratefully.

The bell rang, snapping the both of you back to reality. He took your hand in his, drawing circles on it like he always did. "Your class is here. If you need me I'm right across your room." He said pointing towards the wooden door a few feet away. Just then, he enveloped both his hands around yours. "I'm always here, okay?"

You sighed in relief. A firm smile on your lips as you nodded. "Okay."

With that, he lets you go. He stepped back from you, waiting for you to walk in. You straightened up your posture before turning around. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever was on the other side of the door. Counting the seconds in your head before walking inside.

Sicheng smiled proudly at your back. He waited until you turned to your left towards the chairs before he too went on his way.

You've watched plenty of teen movies to know that you should never pick the seat in front. You looked around the unfamiliar faces of the people in the room. Some eyed you curiously while most had their head on their arms, presumably asleep. You couldn't blame them, it was the first period of the first day of school. All those times running around or sleeping in during the summer before suddenly getting thrusted into school was probably annoying.

You claimed your spot by the second to the last chair by the window. You rested your cheek on the palm of your hand as you looked out, admiring the sky and the gray roads.

"Hey there," a voice spoked up. You lifted your head to see a boy. He had a big beaming smile on his face as he settled his things on the chair next to you. "I'm Xiaojun."

You watched him curiously, pursing your lips for a second before turning your gaze back to the window. "Y/n."

DONG SICHENG REALISED HE LOVED YOU WAY TOO LATE.

He often wondered if he could change it. Always counted the different ways, the different scenarios and outcomes everything would've led to. He spent many nights figuring out how he got to this path. This path that he desperately wanted to stray from. Alas, he could never. Life was a road barricaded by formidable iron walls. Once you step on to one path, the other one closes, locking you in.

He waited for you in the halls, by the door of your Psych class. The both of you were in college now. He shifted his footing before turning to the small window on the door, peeking for just a glimpse of you.

It felt weird. He thought to himself, watching you smile from ear to ear at whatever your classmates were saying. It felt like only yesterday when he met you. Closed off and very reserved. It felt so surreal not being the only person to have broken down your walls. For Sicheng, he wasn't jealous. The opposite actually. He felt proud. He loved seeing you with the company of others and loved the way you managed to grow.

Just then, you met his eyes. He smiled, lifting his hand up in a small wave. And there it is. That smile. The one only he could cause. The smile that was reserved only for him. He felt his heart pound in his chest.

One of your classmates pulled your focus away from him. Your features reverted to that easy smile you gave everyone else.

Sicheng felt his cheeks warm at the thought, his feet turning to rest his back on the wall next to your classroom door. He sighed, closing his eyes. He could see your smile as he did so. Flashing before his eyes like a Polaroid trapped in time. Forever displaying your face with that smile he loved so much.

The bell rang loudly across the corridors, making him jump a bit before composing himself. He felt so nervous today for some reason. Something inside him was commanding every bit of his body to leap out. He shook the nerves of his fingertips, taking the time to compose himself.

He waited for you to come out, almost bouncing in joy when you did. "You seem happy…" you tell him, "what's up?"

"Well I just finished all my assignments, got a high grade in an essay I stayed up for, and managed to get the last cheese burger at lunch today. All in all it's not a bad day." He answered cheekily. You rolled your eyes at the response but maintained a lighthearted expression. You smiled softly, the both of you maintaining a slow pace as you walked away from the door.

"Y/n!" A voice called out. You were quick to turn to the voice, Sicheng mimicking the action subconsciously. What greeted you was the sight of a tall panting boy. Sweat on the sides of his head as he tried to catch his breath. "Thank heavens I caught up to you."

Lucas lifted his head up, a playful smile on his face as he looked up at you. Sicheng felt his breath get caught on his throat. A nervous and unsettling feeling resting on the pit of his stomach. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Lucas! What a surprise." Sicheng snapped his head towards you, a subtle look of disbelief as he noticed your smile. It wasn't like the others and it wasn't the one that was for him. This was different. Your cheeks were tucked to the highest point below your eyes, face beaming with delight. Happier. Lucas wasn't any different either. A small yet noticeable pink dust spread all across his face. His gaze focused solely on you as if in a trance.

Lucas breathed to his nose, bowing his head a bit before returning back to you. "Are we still going on Friday?" He asked, hopeful.

Sicheng could visibly see you elate with his words. His jaw clenched subconsciously as your whole face grew brighter. No. His palms grew hotter on his sides, his heart pounding nervously as he held on to your next words.

"Sure." And just like that, he felt his heart ache. His previous mood going down in the slumps in an instant. Still, he held his head up high. His face stoic and unwavering. From afar you wouldn't have noticed the storm in his eyes.

"That's great," He heard Lucas sigh in relief. They make eye contact for a brief moment, both of them narrowing at one another before breaking it abruptly. You fail to notice the quick exchange, wrapping your arms around Sicheng's and already pulling him away.

"See you on Friday!" You called out over your shoulder.

Right. Sicheng shouldn't fret. He is your best friend. He's known you ever since you caught him that fateful day with his bicycle. Lucas stood nothing against him when it came to you. He was confident. The air around him lightened as you rested your head on whatever part of his arm you could reach.

"I missed hanging out with you." You whispered. He knew you weren't looking at him. It was a habit of yours to avoid his gaze whenever you grow sentimental. "You're my best friend yet I feel like you're worlds away from me now." You continued. "We're okay, right?"

Sicheng turned to look at you, watching your face contort to a frown. He sighed. He shifted your bodies so the two of you faced each other. He took his arm out of yours before resting both of his palms on your cheeks. "We're okay. Okay?" You smiled sheepishly at his words, nodding your head. He pushed you to his chest, hugging you tightly. You could slightly hear his heartbeat relax, making you sigh. "You're my best friend. We've been through hell and back together. I don't think anything would change that."

He's fine. He assures himself. There had been plenty of guys before Lucas. Plenty that you have downright rejected: Xiaojun from highschool, Hendery during summer and many others after. He shouldn't be worried. In the many years he has known you, he was sure the two of you would end up together. He just needed the right moment.

Sicheng was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. In fact, you've never actually seen him romantically with a girl. But whenever you felt down in the dumps, he was sure to give his all to you. He'd wrap you up close, shower you with attention and do everything he can to make you feel better. At the same time, Sicheng was also a very emotional kid. Oftentimes it was he who cried on your shoulders and you'd be there to listen. You were each other's support system. The very rock that keeps you grounded. From childhood and now as you both walk wherever.

This was the first time it began to collapse.

He felt the air get knocked out of his lungs, watching as the scene unfolded right before his eyes; the gleeful smile on your face, the mirroring adoration in both your gazes, and finally a chaste but unconcealable kiss. The obvious buzz of love and its first stages oozing out of the two of you and Sicheng could do nothing but watch it all happen.

Friday. He never thought he would hate a day like it. The day before the relaxation of the weekends. The day you used to come to his house for a movie marathon. The day you went back to him with the happiest smile he's ever seen on you. The day he finally lost everything.

Wong Yukhei. He clicked his tongue at the name. Jealousy growing in the deepest depths of his gut, eyes green and angry. Seeing his stupid smile and the noticeable look of triumph on his features. The boy holding you close. Then he looked at you; hair a mess because of the wind with eyes as bright as the sun.

DONG SICHENG NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU.

It was impossible. A scientific improbability. Not when you still come over during the weekends. Not when you still give him that smile. Not when you hold him so close that for a moment he fools himself to thinking it was all real. Not even when he raised his glass.

He glared at the small box on his hands. Tears brimming his eyes. He felt like he just crashed his bike all over again. Only this time, you weren't there to walk him home.

"A toast," he started, the low baritone of his voice grabbing everyone's attention, "to the newly wed couple, Y/n & Lucas."

It felt painful. Perhaps, the strongest pain he's ever felt. Years ago, he never saw this coming. He was fine. He was fine with all the other men that came into your life. Mostly because he knew no one could've compared to him and the bond you shared. He knew all your favorite movies, all your pet peeves, and everything that made you scared. Yet, he wasn't the one standing by your side right now. He wasn't the groom, the man you were going to spend your life with. He wasn't that.

"It's a miracle how you've managed to put up with her." It was a joke. "Lord knows I barely could." And another one. "Still, she's a very great person." That was real. "And I'm glad she's found someone to spend the rest of her days with." He was not. "We've spent the majority of our lives together as best friends. The day you helped me with my bike was the best day of my life. Lucas, you better take care of her or else." He warned jokingly, glaring playfully at the boy as he chuckled in reply and nodded his head. Sicheng could barely hold it in. "To the Wongs!"

And that was the end. A series of cheers and holler followed right after. You smiled at him and he could do nothing but return it. He watched you turn to Lucas and beam brighter. He sighed.

He wandered out, past the crowd of overjoyed relatives and friends. He pushed the balcony doors open, letting it fall to a close. The first drops of his sorrows slipping down carelessly and he did nothing to wipe them off. The wine in his glass reflected his pitiful expression and all he could do was stare before putting it down hastily. He didn't like the sight. It was over. It was all over. Isn't it?

He felt a strong pang in his chest and he found it hard to breath. He looked over disdainfully at the floor, fist clenched to his sides.

Why can't I move on?

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phantom-curve · 4 years ago

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did I shatter you? pt. 2

part one: you’re not my homeland anymore | part two: when a good man hurts you | part three: there’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me | part four: my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand | epilogue: what died didn’t stay dead

It was him. There was no denying those overgrown brown locks peeking out from his favorite orange beanie or the ocean within his eyes. His feet skipped a beat at the sound of his name, head raising to stare at her with the pain of a thousand heartaches lurking behind his cloudy gaze. Her chest burned. Both of them in so much pain, so close, and yet still unable to cross the chasm that had opened between them. They stared at each other for a long moment, the snow dampened silence spinning out between them. Luke’s face was pale, his eyes bloodshot from crying or lack of sleep she couldn’t possibly know anymore. He sniffed, raising his arm to wipe at his nose with the back of his overlarge flannel sleeve. So, crying it was. Julie felt like she was staring at a ghost.

“What are you doing here?”

They spoke at the same time, their voices overlapping in a sloppy mess of harmonies they hadn’t practiced in too long. Julie’s heart stuttered at the sound of Luke’s low vibrato. He stared at her as if she was the answer to a prayer he hadn’t known he’d been asking for. Electricity sparked between them, bodies drawing closer together without conscious thought from either one. Julie hadn’t been this close to him for a year. His hair was longer, even more unruly than it had been in the years they’d been together. His face looked tired; brows heavy with the weight of whatever battles he had been fighting alone. Always alone now. Her fingertips itched with the desire to reach up and stroke his cheek. She didn’t have that kind of unspoken permission anymore.

She turned on her heel without a word, soundlessly making her way back to the very same bench she had just vacated. Her steps were sure, no hesitation to wait and see if he would follow. She knew he would. His quiet steps provided the only other noise in the frigid air. They didn’t touch as they each took a seat on the farthest corners of the bench. It was an unspoken agreement to keep that space between them. They needed a buffer zone for this conversation. Julie fidgeted with her necklaces; fingers tucked underneath a chunky knit scarf so they would stay far away from Luke’s body. She watched him tuck his own hands underneath his thighs. At least the feeling was mutual.

Snow accumulated around them in pristine, white piles. Julie watched it gradually stack on her knees, shivered underneath the wetness of slowly melting flakes in her hair. She would be damned if she broke this silence. Luke had come here. He knew how much it had always meant to her and he had come here, on a December day so close to the one she hated most. He could speak first. It only took a few minutes longer for him to break.

“I’ve missed you.”

Three simple little words, yet they cut through her like a finely sharpened blade. She sucked in an icy breath, bracing herself against the burn in her chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me.”

Her words were low, barely an octave above a growl. She stared at him head on, saw him flinch away from the raw emotion in her eyes.

“You chose to leave. You didn’t want to listen to anything I had to say. You left before I could even try to stop you. You don’t get to miss me.”

Her voice had grown stronger with each pointed statement. It was true that Luke had chosen to cut and run instead of stick around and fight for her. But it was also true that she hadn’t chased him down. She had accepted the end of their relationship in silence, too tired at that point to care enough to fight back. She was writing a revisionist history here, and she could tell by the way his eyes blazed that he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. He angled his body towards hers, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets. Probably so he couldn’t get overworked with hand gestures that she would tease him about.

“You didn’t try to stop me. You never tried. Just let Andi reach out with tour negotiations and recording schedules so you could avoid me at all costs while we fell apart! How the hell was I supposed to talk to you without a middleman? You know I hate sending messages through other people.”

“How else was I supposed to talk to you, Luke?” His entire body shivered at the sound of his name leaving her lips. “You barely came home anymore. The only time I really saw you was at the studio and I was tired of trying to communicate with you through song lyrics. Couples should be able to talk to each other!”

“Oh, like you ‘talked’ to Nick?” He scoffed.

“Jesus Christ, not this shit again. Those tabloid photos were taken from the worst possible angle and there was absolutely no kissing involved, but even if there was, what do you care? I kiss Reggie and Alex on the cheek all the time. Why shouldn’t I kiss an old friend like Nick on the cheek? Just because you said not to? When have you ever not done something just because I asked?”

“That’s different! Reggie and Alex respect you, they respect us! Nick was always just waiting in the wings for me to fuck up so he could swoop in.”

Julie let out a humorless chuckle and shot to her feet, unable to keep the frustrated, restless energy out of her legs as she paced back and forth in front of the bench. Luke stayed seated, but his body was vibrating with tension. She could see the strain in his neck as he fought to keep himself in check.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Nick has never done anything but respect us, and he hasn’t been waiting around for anything! You did just fine burning our relationship to the ground on your own. Don’t stand there holding matches and then blame him because he once owned a lighter! Even before we met, Nick was nothing more than a friend. After you...”

She bit her lip to stop the confession. Luke glared and she suddenly couldn’t help herself, the words tumbling out in a desperate whisper.

“After I met you it was over for me. No one else could possibly compare.”

It felt like they were having the exact same fight they had every day leading to their break-up. Luke never confident enough, Julie never willing to shrink herself for the sake of his pride. She had been a fool to think a year apart would change them. It was always like this. All the ways their souls fit so seamlessly, all the ways they connected, were the same things that sabotaged them every time. They would come together in a moment of perfect harmony, and then suddenly the notes and lyrics would sour, and they would be right back at square one.

Luke was constantly fighting to prove himself, pushing harder in the studio, nagging at everyone in the band until every note was perfect. His passion and drive were never-ending. It wasn’t enough for Julie and The Phantoms to be as successful as they were. Nothing could erase the sting of losing Sunset Curve to Bobby right before they were about to make it big. Nothing could erase the way his parents had dismissed his work, refused to help him fight the label Bobby had moved to because they didn’t see a point to it. Julie still remembered how angry Luke had been when she first met him. Ready to fight the entire world and then some.

She had thought working together was softening him, thought that maybe she was healing him. Things had been so good for the first few years after they made it big. Some lightness had returned to him, and the fame they found as a band had given him the exact connection with the world that he had always craved when playing. Julie had thought that would be enough for him. She had thought she would be enough for him. It was far too late when she realized nothing would ever fill that hole in his heart, not even her.

He had kept those wounds hidden, letting them fester and rot until his entire system was corrupted. She couldn’t fight a ghost, and he let the betrayal poison him against her more and more every day. She would never forget the final words he had screamed at her on this exact boardwalk as they fought about why he cared that Bobby was releasing another album. Would never forget the heavy silence that had fallen over the two of them as they landed like a bomb, tearing her apart in an instant. Well maybe if you wrote music worth stealing you would understand! She had felt their connection snap in that moment, had known with every fiber of her being that it was the end then.

She had left New York that same day. Escaped back to LA and their house in the hills to wait for him, but he never returned to her. It had been the last time she saw him until this exact moment. Julie had dropped The Phantoms from her name and pretended it didn’t feel like she had cut off one of her limbs in the process. She nearly sold her soul to the label reworking her contract into that of a solo artist, and the press had a field day with the breakup since no one would talk about it. Reggie and Alex had come by to collect Luke’s things. The three of them still got together every week they were in town at the same time, but it wasn’t the same. The empty fourth chair at their brunch table always felt haunted.

Luke stared up at her from his position on the bench. Her words had drained the fight right out of him. She watched him crumple, felt her own ire dim. He was deviating from the script now. He was supposed to stand up and yell back at her about how she didn’t understand his pain. He wasn’t supposed to look so defeated already.

“You’re right.”

His confession was a raspy whisper, both words pulled from the deepest part of his soul. She came to a stop in front of him, mouth falling open. He lifted his head, their eyes locking. Tears clung to his lashes.

“It was my fault. I ruined it.”

Her heart flared at his words. He had never before admitted that his attitude had helped lead to their downfall. She felt herself drift towards him, drawn in by the genuine anguish she could see etched into every line of his face. He didn’t reach for her, not even when their knees touched. It was all she could do to stop herself from pulling him close.

“You didn’t deserve that. We didn’t deserve that. I let myself get so worked up over beating Bobby at his own game that I didn’t realize I had already won the better prize.”

Julie felt her breath catch in her throat. She was drowning in the unending depths of his ocean eyes, the pain there just as intense and familiar as her own.

“Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Worse than losing Sunset Curve and my songs. Worse than all the bullshit with my parents. Losing you was like losing myself.”

A muffled sob managed to work its way up and out of her throat. Luke’s hands lifted and clenched before he dropped them back to land on his thighs with a smack that echoed in the frozen air. Still so close and so far away at the exact same time.

“I tried so hard, Luke. Nothing I did was ever enough, and you were so angry all the time.”

Now he did stand, jumping up so fast he nearly knocked her flat on her back. His hands shot out to clasp her forearms. She could feel her skin light on fire under his touch even beneath the layers of winter clothing.

“Not with you, Julie. Never with you.”

She nearly wept to hear him say her name like that again. No frustration or annoyance, just pure affection and adoration. Like her name alone was the highest power he could call to.

“You were the one light in my life. I just didn’t see it until you were gone, and I was alone in the darkness. I’ll never regret anything as much as I regret hurting you.”

Julie let herself fall into him, the soft-spoken words a balm to her ragged soul. His arms raised to tuck her body fully into his, the two of them fitting together like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t everything, wasn’t a full reckoning of their past just yet, but it was a start.

#this fic has completely run away from me #ain't no stoppin this train now #one more chapter after this #and then I think a fluffy epilogue to make up for all this angst #Mads writes #did I shatter you?#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #jukebox #look at me doing cool formatting things like I actually understand technology #probably should go make links like this for strength/melody

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wildflower-alex · 4 years ago

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The Job (CH) part 3

As a request, there’s the third part and I kinda feel like I should’ve started a mini series, still evaluating the option, though (thanks @dirty--heart xo)

Note: as many of us do the same, meaning writing about us with other person, you will slowly get to know my personality and behavior. It feels more personal and real if I expose true feelings and traits, knowing I’m not the only one who feels this way, plus it makes more sense to explore a mind-body relation and to actually write about it, rather than keeping a flumsy, incoherent attitude of the characters.

Still, I’m not the greatest writer because English isn’t my first language and after a pause of maybe 5 years of not writing it’s kinda hard now.

Part 1 and 2 here and here

She stood up and put the clothes back as a sudden feeling of guilt reached her brain. Her eyes sneaked a peak at his body while he was slowly pulling up his boxers. He truly was a heartthrob, his buff body making him look like a Norse God, way too hot. She felt confused as she realized they had to talk, but about what? Who should say what? What would she answer? And after all, what are they as of now? She unthinkingly sighed at the thought, making him look up at her.

“What?” he asked and she could sense his confusion.

As she realized the gesture, she jokingly said “Nothing” and actually meaning that, because nobody could clear up her min, only her by thinking everything through and analyzing every aspect, gesture, sound and look he threw her.

He too felt this pressure, of not knowing what to say next. Yet he used his hunger to make a conversation with her.

“Listen, I thought maybe I should... buy you some food?”

“You mean... paying for the services?” she said and instantly regretted it, punishing herself inside her mind for ever saying that.

“God, no! Please, stop being sarcastic... I really meant it... but if you don’t want to...” he replied with a slow sorrow in his tone.

“I’m sorry, I... that’s how I deal with... nevermind, sure, let’s grab something to eat” she said, trying to break the barrier between them. She had enormous anxiety problems and her defense system was sarcasm and expecting the worse, only for her brain to cope with the presumed failure. Continuous traumas reflected on her daily tasks and she was trying to let go of that killing feeling she constantly had and she hardly had a day without feeling so heavy. These thoughts would never leave her mind for the whole day.

“Ok, well... I know a restaurant that has great carbonara I know you’ll love” he replied.

“Oh, wow, I’d love to eat some, they’re my favorite” she smiled at him.

“I know, you’re always talking about it” he chuckled, showing off his puffy cheeks and that bright, warm smile of his.

The ride was short, taking only a few minutes to get to the restaurant. Even so, he tried to talk to her, but they both seemed awkward to actually say something relevant. Instead, he took her hand while driving and placed a kiss on it, making her blush at the new feeling. She took a look at his face, his face turning to look at her too and they both shyly smiled, just like two kids.

“I meant everything I said” his voice broke the silence. She never stopped looking at him, only to lean forward and kiss his hand, too.

Arriving at the restaurant, the scene was pretty poetic. The floors were imitating the Italian pavements, with tall black lamps at every table, green leaf plants covering the walls and giving the place an allure of forest. Only a few tables were taken, people being more engaged in conversations, rather than looking at them. She felt a relief knowing that they actually did not know who he was. Fame was pretty rough and she saw that reflecting on their lives.

After both ordered the food he rested his chin in the fists, making his cheeks to look even fuller than before.

“So... for how long?” he asked.

She looked confused, but understood his question after one second.

“Let’s say enough time” she replied. The shame she felt that moment could make people deaf if it had a voice. Realizing she could distract the attention from her, he continued.

“I thought you were talking to someone”

“Well” he started and remembered the girl she was talking about. “You know, they’re all the same. I felt she needed validation, maybe even a little fame and I let it dissipate”

“They all want that now. Hell, everyone wants that from time to time, let’s be real” she said, really meaning it.

“So you’d like to be famous?” he asked.

“Sometimes” she replied and took a sip from the soda the waiter just brought. “And sometimes I want to be invisible and know nothing about anything” she added, making him to raise his eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that, my minds is complicated”

“I can tell that. So... now what?”

“Now... I don’t know, you name it” she tried to dissimulate, not knowing what to say or to make a fool of herself.

“I mean... we’re working together”

So that was the problem. She instantly took her defensive coat, repelling everything he said.

“I know, that could be a problem. I mean, we can play it cool and pretend”

“Pretend... Yeah, but for how long?”

“I don’t know, until either one of us gets tired of it and I resign” she said.

Her seriousness scared him, what was this all about? He felt attacked and frankly, misunderstood.

“Wait, are we talking about the same thing?” he asked, now his torso stuck to the chair.

“Yeah, it happened once and I’ll try not to make a fuss out of it”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he almost screamed.

“For fuck’s sake, Calum, I know you’re regretting it, don’t continue to shove it in my face, for real”

“The fuck...”

“It’s shameful enough, for real, play it cool” she continued, not paying attention to his expression.

“Are you you serious? Like, dead serious?” he furiously asked, now his arms crossed on his chest.

The music started playing louder and she could hear Beyonce’s “Drunk in Love” play the chorus of it.

“This fucking song” she mumbled under her breath, only to herself, remembering the times she played the song while masturbating with his image in her mind.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing” she replied and slowly made up her response in her mind. “I know you don’t want anything to do with me, other that doing my job and bursting your ego. I just wish that...” she paused, nodding her head from side to side, a regret showing in her eyes.

“Don’t you fucking dare to finish that” he fumbled. “Babe, what the fuck?” he said, now his voice softer than even and he leaned to take her hands in his.

“Don’t use such words, we’re not babes” she quietly continued.

“Let me get this clear, you don’t want to start... anything? With me, I mean...”

“I just...”

“Be real. Forget about your mind tricking you. Say it”

She paused, now tears streaming on her face, tears of frustration she couldn’t speak her truth, frustration she couldn’t put words into how she felt, frustration on her anxiety and punishing herself in her mind. She quickly wiped them away, realizing how pathetic she looked.

“Babygirl...” he said. He knew she couldn’t speak and as he looked at her he almost felt angry that such a beautiful soul, inside and out, could have such a defensive system. “Hey” he continued and took her chin between his fingers. “I would like to start something new with you”.

Unfortunately for him, her mind transformed that into a total rejection.

“Love...” he continued and saw she did not change her position, clenched in her chair. He got up and knelt by her side, turning around the chair, so that she could see him. “I promise I’ll be here everytime you’ll need me to speak for you. Please, look at me for a bit”

She finally looked at his eyes, now his tearing up, too.

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to behave around you, I promise I’ll do my best” he continued.

She shyly smiled, stroking his big palms and feeling the weight from her chest being lifted off. “I’m sorry” she finally said.

“Don’t you worry, it’s my fault, too. I know I’m not the greatest talker” he replied.

“I would like it, too” she added, making his form a big smile on his face. They both started giggling, his hands never leaving hers, slowly stroking her knuckles and looking into her eyes.

She was staring at him, seeing a new part of him, one she never encountered before.

“I know it’s already the third, but I also promise there will be less and less days like this. I mean... only the bad part, and more of the previous, you know” he chuckled as she started to laugh loud enough for the people around them to look at them.

“Can you believe we did it in the living room?” he finally chuckled and a burst of laugh left his chest.

She never stopped laughing, but this one made her laugh harder than before.

“I bet...” he started, but his laugh stopped him. “I bet Luke’s gonna be like <<oyy does it smell like dick in here?>> I swear!” he laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear from his eye.

He realized how good of a woman she was, even though she had a lot of work to do regarding her mental health, he understood her and liked her even more. Brains always were his favorite.

Part 1 and 2 here and here

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angelbabylu · 6 years ago

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Something Wicked // LH

pairing: witch!oc x vampire!luke

word count: 5k

warnings: smut, fluff, magical stuff

notes: this is the most self indulgent thing i’ve ever done. it is comprised of a few different elements: first i got the idea for this from this book series about a witch falling in love with a vampire. on top of that, i’ve always been obsessed with higher education for supernatural creatures (like hogwarts but as a university) and i decided to add some of that element to this fic as well. next, there are a few allusions to Macbeth and Les Miserables in this because i really enjoyed how they fit with the story line. and finally, Luke is french in this?? bec i thought it would be hot & also i loved the idea of him being made a vampire during the french revolution. this fic ended up being mostly character and world building and then smut lol but i may revisit this universe again with some actual plot at a later date.

title: from Macbeth

:: ::

It was almost 9 pm when the wind began to pick up outside Margo’s half-opened window. It usually wouldn’t have bothered her–she loved the ominous rustle of the trees and the way the wind’s magic made her feel as if she could fly. But tonight, it was whipping jet black hair into a frenzy in front of her face, making it almost impossible to read the book of potion ingredients that sat in front of her. At first, she had tried tucking the offending strands behind one ear, then another. When the hair tie she used to secure it into a curly knot atop her head broke, she groaned in frustration, her head slamming on the desk with a dull thud.

“Alright you fucking mop,” Margo growled to her curls. “I’ll close the window.”

She was surprised to find the rest of her room dark when she moved away from the incandescent lamp that lived on her desk. The enchanted item had slowly increased in brightness as the sun had given way to its rival, assuring that Margo’s studies weren’t bothered by such trivialities as not having enough light to read.

It took only five long strides for Margo to cross her room, but in that time her mind had moved from the conveniences of being a modern witch back to the potions test she was going to take the next day. Mutely, she recited the four fundamental potion bases and what effects they could help achieve. She was on the third when a bright flash of lightning pulled her from her thoughts and stilled her hand on the window sill.

That explained the way her hair was behaving, at least. There was a thunderstorm brewing, and her hair’s natural propensity to disobey increased whenever electricity stirred in the air. She closed the window and went back to her desk; she had more important things to worry about. By the time the deep roll of thunder disturbed the air, she was tucked back in her chair, nose buried in her book.

Margo didn’t look up again until her senses drove her to do so. There was a slight tingling in her thumb–a witches sixth sense that told her another being was coming her way. Eventually, she didn’t need any of her preternatural senses–the loud clacking of heels against old wood floors announced the arrival easily enough.

Mildly annoyed, Margo sat back. It was too much to ask for more than a few hours to herself–especially when her sisters were involved. She had barely taken a full breath before the door to her room was slammed opened revealing Serena, dressed in what had to be her most revealing outfit all year. The leopard print skirt was tight and short, struggling to fully cover the entirety of her ass. The top–well Margo wasn’t sure if she could call it a top. It was more a flimsy piece of mesh and two strips of fabric to cover her breasts. But if anyone could pull it off, it was Serena. It was not just her amazon like appearance that made this possible, but also the obvious confidence that rolled of her and the way she commanded attention as soon as she entered a room.

Much like she did now.

But Margo had known Serena too long to be intimidated by her.

Raising an eyebrow tauntingly, Margo asked, “Trying to catch an incubus?”

The sharp sound of Serena’s heels was the only response as Serena moved deeper into the room to sit on Margo’s bed. The bed was raised to allow space for storage underneath. Often times, Margo found herself leaping just to get on to it, but Serena was tall enough that she could sit down without a struggle.

Finally, Serena met her eyes again. “Not everyone has a hot vampire boyfriend drooling over them, Mar. I definitely wouldn’t mind an incubus.”

And there it was. The reason why Margo had thrown herself so wholeheartedly into her studies that night.

A warmth started to spread on her cheeks and to the tips of her hair as she blushed. “Shut up,” she grumbled, hating the way just the mention of his name sent her pulse skyrocketing.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Serena said as she played with one of the many earrings up and down her lobe. “Maybe you should invite him to the party tonight.”

Margo rolled her eyes and ignored the girl on her bed in favor of her text. “I’m not going to the party tonight, Serena. I already told you that.”

“Oh for Circe’s sake, Margo.” Serena’s voice was colored with annoyance. “Just come to the party. Live a little.”

Margo kept her eyes focused on the page in front of her. Under Fire Potions, she began reading the uses – poison, hallucinogens, mind-alterations, etc. Serena got increasingly agitated behind her, but Margo continued to ignore her.

When Serena grumbled, “Margo?” Margo finally gave her the response she had been looking for.

“I said I am not coming.” Margo gestured wildly to the mess of notebooks, sticky notes, and highlighters strewn across her desk–though this was not the only reason she would be missing out on the festivities.

Margo had other plans come the witching hour. She tried not to let her face betray that fact, knowing that Serena would not take lightly to her ditching her party for a boy.

“You’ve been studying all night. Take a break and come celebrate with us.”

Margo had argued with Serena enough to know that a simple no might not suffice. Instead, she uncapped a highlighter and grumbled, “Serena, if you don’t leave me alone I’m going to hex you green for the next 24 hours. Then, neither of us will be able to enjoy the party.”

Such use of magic on school grounds was, of course, strictly forbidden. But Margo would happily risk probation for the few minutes of blissful quiet it would bring. Luckily, no one had to hex anyone. Serena accepted her defeat and left Margo’s room, muttering, “Your loss.”

Margo and Serena were both students at the University of the Arcana. They were the world’s worst kept secret. The things that mortal beings feared most were real and living among them, though not with as much horrific tendency towards the cruel as mortals liked to believe. Or, at least, no more so than the mortals themselves. Witches, vampires, demons, shapeshifters–they were human just like everyone else, just a different subclass of humans.

Part of the human experience, unfortunately, was going to a university and getting a degree. Here, Margo studied horticultural magic. It was a degree with which, as her mom liked to remind her, she could go on to become a pharmacist. That was not her plan. She wanted to own a greenhouse someday–maybe do some rudimental medicinal remedies for people in her community. She often dreamed of this simple life on a countryside somewhere.

For now, she was forced to live on a campus large enough to be a country of its own. Not only that but the sorority Gamma Nu with which she had pledged required her to live with twenty-nine other student witches. As much as she hated it–it was a campus requirement. No student witch was allowed on campus without pledging to a coven. That, unfortunately, meant that her sorority sisters never gave her a moment of peace.

Serena had only left Margo’s room for twenty minutes before the heavy bass of some modern hip-hop song began shaking her room.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Margo yelled to no one in particular. The tips of her fingers began to spark blue as she itched to hex someone. It seemed that her sisters couldn’t be bothered to cast a privacy spell on their party, thus subjecting Margo to the loud, rhythmic thumping that would make studying impossible.

Regretfully, she was terrible at noise redirection spells. Any attempts to soundproof her room would end in disaster. Her plans for the night, to study and retain all that she could before he came, we’re steadily being foiled by distractions at every turn.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to steer her mind to a different route. She just needed to change locations. If she trudged around disgruntled enough, the house would recognize her need, and provide her with a solution. The house was sentient, as all witch abodes were. Something about the excess magic in the air caused them to develop a mind of their own. Sometimes, it was more harm than good, as the house had been known to get rid of entire rooms when it was in a mood. But, just as often, it had been known to give a witch exactly what she was looking for.

Holding out hope, Margo packed up her belongings and slipped out of her room.

“Okay house,” she said pleadingly, hoping it could hear her over the thundering of the music and the storm outside. “Show me someplace quiet I can study.”

For a minute, the only thing she saw was a little black ball of fur that dashed past her feet, following the music downstairs. Witches didn’t have familiars per se, but that never stopped her sisters from ironically adopting every black cat they came across.

“House?” she asked impatiently. A door banged open down the hall.

“Thank you,” She whispered, making her way to the door. It led to the library, which was one story down on the eastern wing, but the laws of physical space did not much apply there.

She couldn’t bring herself to fully step inside, however. This was obviously one of the house’s jokes.

The library was soundproof, that much Margo did know. But it was also haunted by two loud, gossipy ghosts.

“Oh dear,” a larger woman said from her position knitting by the library’s fireplace. If not from the way she was tinted silver and slightly translucent, one might not have known she was undead. “Elizabeth, come see! The studious one did not get invited to the party.”

From somewhere on the banister of the second floor came a tinny laugh. “Well, that’s no surprise to me!” Elizabeth responded. “Look at the way she dressed.”

Margo resisted the urge to pull at her old sweatpants and the UA sweatshirt she wore. “Shut up,” she grumbled. Before shutting the door, she added, “I was invited by the way! I didn’t want to go.”

She ignored Elizabeth’s pointed, “What kind of girl doesn’t want to go to a party?” The sound of which lingered until much after Margo had closed the door.

The house rumbled underneath her, making it clear it was laughing.

“House!” she snapped, annoyed at his antics. Another door appeared in front of her in that instant. This time, she did step inside it. It was the abandoned potions laboratory she hadn’t known existed. A quick survey of the place revealed it was in the basement. Which, happily, seemed to be enchanted, for all the noise of the party disappeared as soon as she closed the door.

It was perfect.

Margo toiled over the cauldron in the laboratory for hours, using whatever preserved ingredients she could find to build practice potions. Having always been a tactical learner, this made the art of potion making so much more accessible to her. The fire underneath the cauldron burned hot, causing her to shed her sweater for the loose grey tank underneath. Eventually, she piled her hair up and away from her face, to avoid the way the steam had caused it to stick to her cheeks and the back of her neck. The ingredients were old school–more animal than plant-based, as she preferred to work with. But Margo made it work nonetheless.

Eye of newt.

Toe of frog.

Wool of Bat.

Tongue of Dog.

Round and round the boiling pot she went, throwing in the ancient ingredients and murmuring incantations, learning the form way better than any text could teach her. She was so lost in the art of it all, she was sure nothing could pull her out.

Then the witching hour came, and a sharp prickling sensation in Margo’s thumbs told her that someone was looking for her. Or something. It was much bigger and much more powerful than Serena–it sent her witch’s sense haywire. She knew just who was it was. She had been waiting for him all night. For a moment, she debated going up to the party, finding him, and dragging him back down to the basement. But, there was a spell she knew, old and powerful, that would bring any creature to her in an instant. Of course, with ancient magicks, there was always a chance of attracting unwanted, much more dangerous attention.

Sighing, she lifted up a quick prayer to Hecate, then said, “Fuck it.”

Turning away from the cauldron, she recited the old but powerful spell.

By the pricking of my thumb, Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks.

She closed her eyes for a breath, and when she opened it, he appeared in front of her like an apparition. At first, he was nothing more than a blur of black and silver. He had entered the room at full vampiric speed, and her eyes had to take a moment to adjust, to register what she was seeing.

Her heart began pounding in her chest, not unlike the rhythmic thumping of the bass she had heard earlier. Run, her instincts told her, recognizing that there was a predator, much larger and much deadlier than her in the room. She tried to calm the pounding she could now feel in her throat, with a breath. It came out shuddering.

Now that her eyes were fully adjusted, she could see the way his pupils dilated, no doubt at the sound of the rush of blood through her veins. As he advanced on her, she took a few steps back. Eventually, she was stopped by the edge of the table next to where the cauldron still bubbled over.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Vampires were at the top of the human food chain. Because of that, everything about them was designed to draw prey in. Luke was no different. The way he talked was an aphrodisiac, the smallest hint of an old French accent rolling off his tongue lasciviously, drawing a longing from her core. She felt the moment her body realized that she was in no immediate danger, and her heart started hammering for an entirely different reason.

“I know,” she responded, trying to sound cavalier. It was why she had thrown herself so wholeheartedly into her studies that night. At some point in the afternoon, she had received a text. It was just five words, yet it had made her toes curl with desire. Witching hour. I’ll find you. The modern monster’s equivalent of a booty call. Margo, not one to betray her studies for a man, had spent all afternoon with her nose buried in a book. Now that he was right in front of her, she was confident enough in what she had learned that she had no trouble stepping away from the cauldron for the night.

Instead of getting closer to her as her whole body ached for, Luke moved to survey in the room. In turn, she surveyed him. His movements were cat-like, each motion deliberate and graceful. The white, silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned halfway down and tucked into a pair of black leather pants. A peek at the smooth expanse of his chest made Margo yearn to reach out and touch, but she stayed backed up against the table, allowing him to walk the layout of the lab.

“Pilar said you were somewhere studying,” He referenced her housemate easily as he walked around the room almost aimlessly, first glancing into the still bubbling cauldron, then the ingredients that lined the shelf. Ungraciously, she felt jealousy rise to the surface, sending pinpricks of magic down her spine. Margo was well aware of Luke and Pilar’s brief tryst a few months before, and in moments like these, when her senses were bridled by lust, she couldn’t help the primal instincts of possessiveness.

“Potions test.” She responded. Then, because she couldn’t quite put the thought out of her mind, she added, “Pilar needs to mind her own business.”

She was proud of herself when the words didn’t come out sounding shaky or hoarse.

“She’s worried about you, ma chérie. All you do is study.”

Margo tramped down her envy and reminded herself that she hadn’t spent all day studying just so she and Luke could fight about his over-friendliness with his ex. Instead, she tried to focus on nudging Luke’s eyes back to her with a suggestive comment. “I’m not studying right now.”

At her goading, Luke finally gave her the attention she craved. He turned to look at her, his smirk dangerous and promising.

“I prove to be an adequate distraction, no?”

She didn’t see him move. Rather, one moment, he was across the room with a jar of dragon scales in his hand, and somehow, in that same instant, the jar was back on the shelf, and he was next to her, tucking an escaped curl behind her ear.

Immediately, she heaved her chest up to him.

The way he tutted was almost regretful as he traced the line of a barely visible scar, one that he had left on her chest less than 24 hours before. “Oh, ma chérie. You’re already addicted to my touch. I can hear how your blood sings for me.”

Bowing his head, he gently brought his lips to the scar that rested just above the swell of her bosom. “Are you ever,” he paused slightly as if choosing his next word carefully. “Scared of this?”

Scared of this. Scared of them. Historically, witches and vampires did not come together for anything more than sex and political alliances. But, there was something deeper between Luke and Margo. The memory of how indignant she had felt when Serena mentioned her hot vampire boyfriend rose to the surface. Even now she had a hard time with the state of their relationship-how quickly she had come to fall in love with her predator. He often reminded her of the power that he held over her and how her sense of self-preservation became nonexistent whenever he was around.

Luke nipped at her skin lightly, not enough to draw blood. It wrenched her from her thoughts and into that moment with him. When her heart stuttered, he stared up at her, a wolfish grin playing on his face. In moments like these, they both regressed to their animalistic impulses, running on deep, primal instincts left over from their ancestors.

“You forget, Hemmings, that I’m powerful too,” Margo muttered a quick incantation, and this time, the speed with which Luke moved was not due to his vampiric abilities, but rather the invisible bands of wind that twisted around him, pulling him off her, and restraining his wrist. His attempts to burst free of his magical binding was futile. He pulled at his invisible restraints and bared his teeth in warning to her.

The animal inside him did not like to be tied up.

She ignored the way her blood roared in her ears, focusing only on the fact that if it sounded loud to her, it would be deafening for Luke.

Reaching out to the potions table, Margo grabbed a knife she had been using earlier, wiping any traces of ingredients from it with a quick, cleansing water spell. Then, she held it up to her breast. Both her and Luke tracked the way the cool blade as it came to rest against her skin. The grey tank top, as unattractive as Elizabeth’s ghost would find it, did the job of sparking Luke’s interest. She wore no bra underneath, so it hung low on her ample bosom and was thin enough that her nipples all but poked through.

She pierced the skin right where Luke had scarred her before. In response, Luke’s pupils dilated further until his blue eyes were almost completely black, and his breath began to get ragged. Now, it was her turn to smirk.

“I might be addicted to your touch,” she purred. “But you’re addicted to my taste.”

Luke impossibly broke free of her binds and had his hands gripping at her sides in a second. He buried his face in her neck, not going for her blood until he got express permission to do so.

“Can I?” His voice was rough and riddled with want. She nodded once, and Luke dropped his mouth to her heart vein and started to drink deeply.

Nothing that Margo had experienced in her 21 years of life was as erotic as a vampire drinking from her chest. In popular culture, vampires drank from their lover’s neck. That was too impersonal of an action, Luke had informed her. Vampires drank from a mortal’s necks when they planned to drain them and leave them for dead. There was something much more sacred about their relationship, something that made the idea of taking blood from that public place repugnant to him.

As he sucked deeper on Margo’s chest, a shiver of lust set inside her aflame. She could feel herself grow wet from the pull of blood out of her and into him. It was an aphrodisiac, and she was powerless against the feeling it brought. From the way Luke flexed his fingers at her side, she could tell he was just as affected by it as she was. He pulled away to thrust his erection against her.

“Wanna drink while I’m inside you,” he begged.

She didn’t trust her voice not to come out in a ragged plea, so she nodded mutely, already reaching for the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head. Luke hoisted her up unto the table she had barely noticed digging into her back. Instead of returning to the wound on her chest, already closed from the healing properties in his saliva, Luke went for her nipples, sucking on one as he rolled the other between his forefinger and thumb.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered almost reverentially.

He started on a path downwards, kissing her stomach, licking into the dip of her belly button. “You know,” he began as he knelt in front of her, fingers already poised to remove her sweatpants. “Since the change, I’ve questioned my belief in a higher power. But when I do this with you, I know He’s real. Nothing else but an omnipotent deity could have created an angel as beautiful as you.”

Margo bit her lip. Having spent some time with the romantic era poets of the mid-1800s, Luke was prone to outbursts like these in the midst of sex. Margo liked to tease him about it.

“I’m no angel,” she retorted a slight quirk of her lips. “I’ll be right there in hell with you, Luke Hemmings. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Luke took a moment to respond, choosing instead to remove her sweatpants and panties. Then, he placed a few chaste kisses to the inside of either thigh, letting his scruff rub lightly against her teasingly. Margo’s hand shot out, running through his hair a few times, before trying to lead him to her folds.

Instead, he chose that moment to respond to her earlier comment. It was always like this with them. Push and pull. Two opposing tides of want, dragging their sex in different directions. “You are too intoxicating. The devil will try to steal you from me.”

Luke brought his mouth back to her stomach, lapping at the salt of her skin. He nibbled slightly, causing her to release a shuddering breath.

“The devil can’t have me,” she cried between gasps. “I belong to you.”

That was just the motivation the vampire needed. “And I to you,” he growled. It was a guttural sound coming from deep within. In the next moment, he brought his tongue to her, pressing it against her clit.

He spent his time worshiping her folds, before adding one finger inside her. Margo’s legs fell open wider in response, inviting more.

“How does every inch of you taste so good?” He asked in another bought of reverence. Margo’s only response was a cry of euphoria as Luke’s fingers scissored in and out of her, drawing immeasurable pleasure. For a few moments, she basked in the sensation of a lover taking his time to reduce her to cries and shudders. When she came the first time, she was so lost in this sensation, she wasn’t cognizant of the little sparks of magic flittering off her, falling to the tables and the floor.

It was not until Luke muttered, “Shit,” that she opened her eyes to see smoke rising from a hole burnt into the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” she cursed, still panting. “My bad.”

They glanced at each other for a brief moment, taken by the heat of each other. Then, they devolved into laughter. This wasn’t the first time Margo had burnt something in the midst of their passion, and it wouldn’t be her last.

Luke stood and picked her up amid their laughter. In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist and peppered her face with kisses. “Take us back to your room,” he begged. He raised one foot in the basement of the old house as Margo whispered her incantation, and when he put it down, they were back in her second-floor room.

“God, I love magic,” He breathed, depositing her on her bed.

“Me too,” she responded, and with a wink, all his clothes disappeared. Luke was unconcerned with their dematerialization, knowing from experience he would find them neatly folded at the foot of her bed the next morning.

Crawling on top of her, he slotted their mouths together in a motion they had done so often it became ritual. They spent a few blissful moments, rubbing unbidden against each other. But Luke was impatient. Soon, he was pinning both her wrists above her head with one large hand and entering her slowly.

At first, his thrusts were slow, deliberate, as he got used to the feeling of being inside her. Then, when his movements started to become more erratic, Margo bared her chest to him, knowing exactly what he wanted. His teeth pierced the scarred flesh easily, and he moaned at the first drop of blood that made contacts with his lips.

He released his hold on her hands then, so his were available to wrap his hand around her throat, grip at her side and play with her clit or nipple as he saw fit. The animal in both of them moved about in unrestrained movements as they devolved into hands, teeth, and hips. He drank until it felt like the open wound in her chest was somehow connected to her pussy, each deep suck causing her walls to contract.

She groaned, one hand in his hair, the other in the sheets. It was heaven for her, but for him, it was even better. Curious, Margo had once asked what it felt like to make love to her and feed from her at the same time. He said it felt like being burned alive in the best way possible. Passion consumed every inch of him, setting him aflame.

When he pulled back from her chest, they were both seconds away from climaxing. Immediately, he brought one finger to her clit, playing with it as he thrust inside her. She came, and he followed. This time, a soft glow of light radiated off her in pulses, matching the pulses of her orgasm. Her magical reactions to him were getting stronger.

She turned her attention to the man now draped atop of her, breathing in deeply, taking in the heady scent of the room.

“Smell something you like?” she teased, knowing he liked the smell of them tangled together in the room. Luke loved being unable to smell where he ended and she began.

“Yeah,” he breathed in response, still visibly affected by Margo’s blood. Margo laid there a few minutes running her hand through his hair, waiting for him to come down from the high she had caused.

When Luke was back to himself again, he flipped them, so she was lying atop him. With a quick incantation, Margo brought the blanket gently over their shoulders. Peacefully, they settled in for the night.

“I love you, mon cœur,” Luke uttered the sentiment first.

Margo repeated it.

“Wake me up at 8?” She wanted to get some last minutes revisions done before her test at 10 and one of the best things about having a vampire boyfriend? He didn’t need sleep, so she had a personal alarm. Margo thought the kiss he placed atop her head was an affirmative and a goodnight all in one. He had one more thing to say.

“Le suprême bonheur de la vie, c'est la conviction qu'on est aimé; aimé pour soi-même, disons mieux, aimé malgré soi-même.”

The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather in spite of ourselves.

It was a quote from his late friend, Victor Hugo. In moments of reminiscing, Luke thought back to the time he’d spent with the author and poet. He had told her once that he never believed he would find the happiness Hugo spoke about. But he found it with her.

She squeezed his side gently, a silent admittance that she loved him as well.

:: ::

Part 2: Man or Beast

end notes: shout out to anyone who recognizes the names margo, serena & pilar who are elle’s sorority sisters from legally blonde the musical lmao. let me know what you think! love yall!

tag list: @5sosnsfw / @bloodmoonashton / @lukescaboose / @5sex-of-summa / @deviantnines / @halcyonnhood / @gh0st-0f-y0u-95 / @aspiringwildfire / @cal-pal-cuddles / @hotmessmichael / @hereforlukescruff/ @softforcal / @ohhmuke / @fratcalum / @calumamongmen / @ashtonandcalslefthand / @asht0ns-world / @colorful-queen-of-the-roses / @heavenlydrarry / @slowlyelectronictragedy / @myemptywallets / @pagesuponstpages / @fallfrxmgrace / @thefireisgone / @michaelorwhat / @dammitbands / @sugarcoated-pain / @sublimehood / @cal-puddies / @singt0mecalum / @irwinkitten / @myloverboyash

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emuftw · 6 years ago

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Dreamboy theory part 2 -Dane, Critch and Luke

So I know I am officially late to the party with putting out part 2 of my dream boy theory after the final episode has been realised, however, as its only been out for a few hours I wanted to get it out before I had a chance to proper listen to the episode. I haven’t listened to the last episode yet so this is what I THINK is going on. As always, there’s some reference to abuse (quite heavy in Luke’s section) so TW if applies. This is also a fan theory and will be probably wrong at the point of posting so ya know, don’t take too seriously!

In my last post we identified some of the key features of what I suspect is going to take place in the finale, with the main idea being that actually there is nothing supernatural going on and rather Dreamboy is actually a highlight of how some of life’s creepiest horrors are that which comes from everyday life. I’m hoping in this part to talk more on where this is highlighted and normal mundane stuff can, with the correct use of tone can make everyday life seem so much bigger than it is.

An example of how this can be proven is Cora Dela Roach and her “death Dreams”. At first, this idea of someone having dreams about people dying can be seen a very jarring and supernatural. However, at the start of the episode we are told that she is older than we think, and as someone who works with a lot of older people, the convocation of death comes up quite regularly. That talk of mortality as ones gets older comes with age, be it in day or night. I know that one of my mum friends who fit the bracket of her age regularly thinks and dreams about her death. In the same episode, we can tell that she has a general fondness for Luke, which means she’s probably is concerned for his safety which could link in with why she is dreaming of the worse.

The idea of “stress dreams” can also be seen with Dane and his dreams. Dane, has reoccurring dreams of the “Giant freaky fish” has seemed pretty abstract however there are ways that these dreams are not as “freaky” as they seem. (Please note: I use the term “stress dream” as that is what I call my dreams, if there is a more formal name then apologies) Firstly, it should be noted that Dane admits in the first episode he has weird dreams, with either his mom in it or being fucked at a meat counter being watched by old ladies, so in actual fact a giant freaky fish dream isn’t too far of a stretch here. Often its very common for someone who see’s something that they encounter in the day to then dream about said thing at night. With Dane working near “the lost ocean” it wouldn’t be unusual for that to carry over to his dreams, with floating in an ocean and giant sea animal being there. We can also add that the dreams start to take a more sinister turn after the death of Esmarelda, where we can assume that Dane fell asleep shortly after. It’s only after then Dane begins to start thinking about fish in a more morbid fashion.

But wait! I hear you ask, “What does this have to do with Luke and Dane sharing dreams? And the fact that Danes dreams are reoccurring?” Whilst I do have a theory of this, I will talk about this in more details in Luke’s section. With regards to the reoccurring dream, I would like to think that Dane is currently having some known as a Stress Dream because of where he is in life

Definition break! Stress Dream is not a formal term or medical definititon, but it’s a term I coined when I talk about my own dreams which are reoccurring! A “Stress Dream” is a dream which comes about at high points of stress and can have a reoccurring theme, however not exclusively linked. For me, when I am under moments of high stress of work, my stress dreams are of me being killed/ put in danger in a variety of ways. There not pleasant, but there are also a sense of weird over tone to them, such as my stress dreams having a very “Home Alone” feel to them but always end with me dying.

The first time I listened to Dreamboy all the way through, I couldn’t help but feel like I resonated with Dane as he was having Stress Dreams like I do, but I couldn’t figure out quite why? It was only after the second listen I realised that it’s to do in what he said in episode 1, and that he’s TIRED. Tried can link into many things in life, with being busy with work, to emotionally tired with life and I can imagine being in New York of all places makes it doubly so. With Dane being tired it would mean that he is pretty sure going to be taking these Tired thoughts with him to sleep, as you can see in episode when he starts off his dream about the presidential waltz and ends back in the water.

Speaking of Tired people, I also Believe Critch is also someone who is not actually the “Bad Guy” of the series but rather someone who is VERY misunderstood and we are being lead to think one way. Critch’s theory is interesting as whilst in the podcast itself there hasn’t been much talk about him as a character, Creator Dane and the Dreamboy team actually mention him quite a lot on social media and bonus episode.

Critch is portrayed as someone who we should not trust, from the way he smiles and talks to having negative interactions with nearly everyone he speaks to. However, I don’t actually thing he’s “up to something” but rather just a guy down on his luck. In the show, we find out he pushed for the Zoo and the Jupiter moons ride as his big way to make a mark on the stonewall fortune, only to have it flop and put the Zoo into more Debt. Being down on his luck, He’s just seems to be trying to find ways to have the Zoo stay open and live up to a long family name. I mentioned in my previous post that with Zoe already being dead, he is just trying to prolong the inevitable loss of his main attraction; however, there are a few notes from outside the show that can lead to him also being a Very tired guy down to his last ties of luck.

On Twitter a few weeks back, someone tweeted the Dreamboy team with their own fan theory that Critch wasn’t all out bad. Whilst a couple of members of Dreamboy did like the post, Patrick (WHO I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS NEXT BIT) actually ended up commenting on the post with the shifty eyes. Unfortunatly, I’m not sure how Patrick fits in with the Dreamboy team however I can tell he works with them closely and often the team comment on twitter when something is a particularly stand out to them. Also In the most recent bonus episode, Ellie and Creator Dane talks about in the original off Broadway production of Dreamboy, Critch actually originally had a solo song, in which in it he reflects how back in the old days things were so much easier and could just sign things away at a flick of his finger. I suspect in episode 8 we will find out more of this side of his past and the pressure he has felt from his family to succeed as well as how it will tie the entire story together.

With these two out of the way, I did want to have a section on the original Stonewall and his PTSD with the stone ring however as I am in a rush to type I will post this after the finale, as I want to talk to our poor tortured Boi himself: Luke.

Luke is probably one of the more complicate and mysterious people in the show, but again, there’s not a lot of evidence to show he has link to anything super natural other than he “shares the same dream” with Dane, Which I think is a lie. I DON’T think Luke and Dane are sharing the same dream, but rather it’s a cry for help from someone who has been abused/grew up in a cold home. Whilst I did bounce some Ideas around with if it was just a loveless home or abusive, I couldn’t really find any key correlation, however, for the sake of this theory we will go with an abusive house hold growing up, which why he A) doesn’t live there now and is camping on the floor in the abandoned house rather than communiting B) seems embarrassed by Dane when he mentions that his nickname as a kid was panda by his nan as he probably lied to her about his home situation and C) the burse on his neck when Dane touched made him react so negatively when touched as he didn’t get it from sex. Its also the reason why he at times seems older as he is, as its shown in common research that children from child abuse often have a sense of maturity to them that is abnormal in their age group. Whilst Luke is 19, he can still count as a legal child as he counts as a vulnerable adult with the age bracket for these guys being 20 in the UK.

We can assume the when he moved at 13 this may have got worse due to his nervousness around the subject when Dane talks about it in episode 4 , however this is up to interpretation. It’s also why the logical of knowing where the pain is coming from, as this was a mentality I adapted back when I looked for reasons to be self-destructive back when I was his age.

This in turn all Links into why Luke is so keen in saving Zoe. In episode 7 for the first time we hear Luke Properly talk about his family, with that he and his mum use to come to the zoo lots as a kid to see zoe, which would explain why he is so emotionally attached to the place. It is one of the few places where Luke actually has nice memories growing up, and not of that of abuse or harm from his family. Trying to protect this one last memory from time is a why he broke down when he found out Zoe is dead.

“But wait!” I hear you say “you still haven’t explained the dream thing!”

The reason I think Luke isn’t having the same dream as Dane is due to his upbringing and him lying. I should say off the bat I don’t think Luke is being evil here and manipulating Dane to stay with him lying. But rather, the odd white lies to make a guy who Luke genially seems to get along with to stick around a bit more.

When Luke first finds out about Dane’s dream, he seems confused, as anyone would if someone at a bar just told you he has a dream of a weird freaky fish. This doesn’t seem that odd or supernatural but by the time Luke tells Dane he too is having a dream, he introduces the idea that the fish is called “Dreamboy”, which was mentioned in the song that was sung by the drag queen just before they go outside to make out. It seems like an odd coincidence that a key part of the song is now what he happened to call the fish?

Also, prior to this, back at the abandoned house, Dane literally came rushing in as soon as he seems Luke being hit. He also seems to not be aware of who Luke is, which both of these together seem to be a big change in Luke’s world of sex and abuse. We can assume that they spoke a little more in the club and to the walk to the zoo in episode two meaning by this point, Luke will have probably made a clear idea of if he wants to see Dane again and the best way how? Tell him you’re seeing the same dream as him. This is why Luke is so calm about the whole situation and why he doesn’t seem phased by the whole thing.

It’s also why he didn’t text him back when Dane says he had another dream? Case how could he when he isn’t having the same dream. It’s also why he’s so off when we see him at the rally case now he’s gotten to know Dane with every other episode, both the good and the bad, and actually realises he properly needs to come clean about the dream thing. Only he’s cant as he’s worried it will then make Dane angry which will make him leave, which is the last thing he wants.

So this is a much shorter version of my final theory (I know crazy right?) with what I think is going on with the main characters in Dreamboy. Like I said, I know the final episode is now out but I just wanted to voice into the void of what I think is going on! There might be a part 3 at someone once I listened to the finale to talk about what I think will happen in season 2 as well as the “magic disk” theory as well, but that will be at a later date when I’m not already 10 minutes late for work!

Stay Groovy!

#dreamboy #dream boy #dreamkittens #dreamboy podcast #Dreamboy pod #podcast #WTNV #night vale presents #Luke #Dane #dane terry #LGBT #fandom #fan theory #gay #tw: abuse

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duskholland · 7 years ago

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Gone (Luke Hemmings oneshot)

Summary: Luke turns up at his ex’s engagement party, desperate to turn back time.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: this is heavy on the angst. There’s also cursing!

A/N: this was supposed to be 1k words max, but somehow it grew...whoops. I haven’t written anything 5sos-related that isn’t smut in probably about a year and a half, so it’d mean a lot to me if you could let me know what you think of this?

Listen to this song as you read.

“Let me go, Cal,” Luke muttered, trying to shake off the hand of his best friend. When he continued to be held back by the man, he turned around to glare. “Let me go!”

Calum sadly shook his head, his fingers staying exactly where they were wrapped around Luke’s bicep. “You shouldn’t stay,” he warned, his warm face curled into an expression of concern. “Seriously, Luke. She didn’t invite you for a reason.” His eyes swam in fear, the golden irises twinkling in a way that showed nothing but anxiety. “Please… Neither of you need this. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Luke frowned. “Get off me,” he groaned, finally tugging himself free. Feeling his arm fall down by his side, he reached up to smooth out the white dress shirt he’d spent an hour selecting. “I appreciate it, dude, but I’m fine just here.” He paused, his lips falling into a slight frown. “I need to be here.”

“At your ex-girlfriend’s engagement party?” Calum queried, completely unconvinced. Luke glanced over and saw he had his arms crossed, ripe biceps bulging against his shirt. “It’s a shit idea.”

Luke was about to reply with another defiant answer when he felt his heart still. All of a sudden it became difficult to breathe, the air in his lungs failing to do the job. He felt himself gasp softly, his eyes widening to the size of saucers as they fell on her.

“Shit, Luke, c’mon, you look terrible. You shouldn’t be here-”

“No.”

As if in a daze, Luke slowly began to weave his way through the crowd. The hotel they’d rented for the function was decorated fancily with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and waiters floating around with champagne on trays. If he’d been in his right mind, he’d have noticed that the crowd seemed to part for him, her friends and family instantly recognising him as the ex-boyfriend who’d ruined her life.

He finally reached her.

He approached her from the back, his heart in his mouth as he realised he hadn’t planned this thoroughly enough. He hadn’t written a speech, he hadn’t even thought through some key talking points. Hell, they were surrounded by people, what the-

“What the hell are you doing here?” Her voice, sharp and bitter, plunged into his chest, taking him a few moments to process the sheer disgust in her voice. When he brought himself to drag his eyes up to her face, he saw nothing but anger spread over her perfect face. “Luke? Hello?” She brought her fingers up to snap in front of his face, and Luke’s eyes fell onto the silver band laced around her fourth finger.

Engagement ring.

------------

Three years prior.

“Luke- Lu- please, where are we going?” She asked, excitement in her voice. Luke chuckled, using his grip on her hand to pull her along faster, carefully navigating a way around the rocks strewn over the park.

“I told you, baby, it’s a surprise,” he cooed, a nervous grin on his face. He found himself biting his lip when he saw his destination approach, anxiety stirring in the pit of his stomach. Despite his heart knowing what she’d say, he couldn’t help but rethink his decision. What if she changed her mind all of a sudden? He didn’t think he could handle it if she walked away. He thought it might break him.

“But I hate surprises,” she whined, pouting. With the blindfold covering her eyes, she was forced to follow him like a blind puppy, struggling to keep up with his long strides. “Will you just give me a hint?”

Luke chuckled, his voice wracked with nerves. “We’re here,” he announced, bringing her to a standstill. He dropped her fingers and smoothed his hands over her arms, settling them on her shoulders. “Stay here for a minute, please. I’ll let you know when you can take it off.”

She giggled quietly, nodding carefully. “Hurry up,” she pled, rubbing her hands together nervously. Luke cracked a smile. Acting on impulse, he moved a hand up to cup her face, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. He felt her grin against his mouth, and for a moment he wondered if she knew exactly what was in store.

After forcing himself to pull back, Luke hurried away. With his mouth still feeling warm, he bent down and began to comb through a picnic basket. He rummaged past the champagne bottle Ashton had slipped him, past the condoms Michael had thrown at him, until… There.

With shaky hands, he plucked the velvet box from the basket. He quickly flicked up the lid, his eyes briefly beginning to tear up as he spotted the engagement ring he’d spent hours picking out with Calum. It was there. She was there. He was there.

It was time.

After moving into the centre of the picnic rug, Luke dropped down to one knee, only a few inches away from her. “Okay,” he breathed out, voice slightly hoarse. “You can take it off.” His words were fast, his heart jumping around so hard in his chest that he felt a little sick.

She quickly reached up, flinging the blindfold off. As she was part-way through smoothing down her hair, her eyes finally lifted to look at the surroundings, her body stilling.

Luke watched as she gasped softly, the delicate sound permeating the air. Her eyes danced around the surroundings, greedily drinking in his setup. He watched as she took in everything - the strings of fairy lights hanging from the trees, the checkered picnic blanket splayed across the ground, him. More specifically, the engagement ring nestled in the velvet box.

“Luke?” She murmured, eyes already beginning to fill with tears. As much as he wanted to spring up and hug the pain away, he held still, his knee beginning to numb from being pressed against the ground for so long.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he began, pausing only to nervously clear his throat. When she shot him an encouraging smile, he continued. “You… You are the light of my life. I don’t know how I ever managed to live without you by my side.” He paused to swallow, using his free hand to reach up and furiously rub his stinging left eye. “I never really knew what true love felt like before I met you. I thought I did, but then you came into my life and everything changed. You made me know what it felt like to feel whole again, to feel like I deserved to be loved. You taught me how to love, and for that, I will be eternally grateful.” The hand holding the box extended a little. “And that’s why I have an important question to ask you.”

He paused, just for long enough for her to speak up. “What?” She asked, voice quivering. He looked to meet her gaze, her familiar eyes swimming with ecstatic tears.

“Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

He’d barely finished when she dropped down in front of him, nodding fervently as the tears began to spill down her cheeks. He felt his own emotion finally peak, hot wet tears rolling from his eyes as she flung her arms around him. “Of course I will!” She replied, squeezing him tightly. “I thought you’d never ask!” And then they were kissing. The moment his lips met hers, it felt electric. He clung to her so tightly he was afraid she’d break, his fingers whitening from the pressure of tugging on her top. Sparks ran down his spine, spreading to every part of his body as he kissed her passionately, making a vow to himself to never let go, to never forget how it felt to hold her.

“Put it on!” She gasped, pulling back from the kiss. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her hand outstretched with her fingers wiggling in the air. She gazed expectantly at him, glancing rather pointedly down to the ring.

Luke startled, chuckling a little as he realised he’d forgotten to finish the deed. “Sorry,” he mumbled, catching his lower lip between his teeth to hide his amusement.

With shaky hands, he plucked the ring from the soft padding and brought it up to her hand. He held her soft fingers delicately, carefully slipping the golden band down her fourth finger as she released a small squealing sound. Much to his relief, it fit perfectly.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, poking at the ring. Then she glanced up, smiling wider than he’d ever seen. “I love it. I love you.”

And then they were kissing again. As he took his fiancée in his arms and held her close to him, her arms looped around his neck, Luke realised something: he’d never been happier. And he knew as long as he had her, he’d never truly know sadness again.

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“For fuck’s sake. Luke!”

A sharp push of his shoulder brought him out of it, and he found himself blinking quickly as he shook himself out of his reminiscent haze. With a start, he realised there were now more people lingering around him, many pairs of eyes trained on him, most of them shooting daggers.

The only person he cared about was her, and she seemed to be the one that had the most hatred in their eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled, quickly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I need to talk to you,” he managed, swallowing nervously. She was holding his gaze, so he was watching the second a flicker of regret spread through her eyes.

“No way,” she replied, after taking a moment to think. “Get out.”

She turned to leave, but Luke instinctively reached out and grabbed her wrist. A shudder travelled up her arm as she hissed lowly, turning back to glare at him.

“Sorry,” he stammered, quickly releasing her. “Please, Y/N. I- I have things I need to tell you. You need to hear me out. Please.” His stomach was churning, his hands sweaty. His entire body felt fragile, shaking out of pure terror.

“I don’t owe you anything,” she spat, anger seeping into her words. Then she dropped her voice, her volume falling down to a hushed whisper. “I never want to see you again. Get the fuck out of here before I call security.”

Luke felt his heart splinter in his chest, jagged shards sticking everywhere. Arcs of pain travelled through his system, causing him to wind himself, sucking in breath after breath of stale air. “Okay,” he whimpered. He was already stepping back when the fiancé approached, his eyes shooting daggers at Luke.

“What’s going on?” He asked. Luke found himself frowning. He knew the new guy was called Adam, but other than that, the man was a mystery to him. But Adam seemed angry, his face gravelly as he looped an arm around Y/N protectively.

“I’m- I’m just leaving,” Luke muttered, putting a hand in the air apologetically. He felt Y/N’s gaze travel to his bare left hand, lingering over his fourth finger for a brief second. “I’m sorry.”

And then he was taking off through the crowds, coughing back the blinding tears that seared his eyes. He pushed past people and found an exit, slamming open the door and rushing outside. As soon as he was in the fresh air, he jerked to a stop and found a wall, leaning up against it as he began to sob.

It was too late. Before, it’d been a distant truth - something he’d known, but not truly wanted to believe. Now he’d seen the truth, her, with fire in her eyes, and he knew it to be true. She hated him. No, she detested him. And there was absolutely nothing he could do.

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It was 10pm that night and Luke was outside her apartment. He only knew she still lived in the grotty flat on the outskirts of town because he’d stolen Calum’s phone whilst he was in the shower and checked her address, and though he’d briefly felt bad for betraying his best friend’s trust like that, it was worth it. Because he was there, and he knew she was on the other side of the door, her fiancé across town having drinks with some colleagues.

With a few beers running through his system, Luke knew it was time. He knew where he stood, and finally, he was ready to try. This was his last chance.

His hand shaking, he reached up and quickly rapped on the door, his knuckles stinging from the force behind the action. He swallowed down the nerves in his throat, taking a moment of amusement to realise he was more apprehensive for this visit than he was before any concert or any awards show.

She opened the door. Luke watched as her expression went through several shifts: disbelief, confusion, anger, disbelief again, and then rage.

Immediately she went to slam the door shut, only for it to be met with Luke’s foot. He bit back pain as his boots took the brunt of the force, using her surprise to his advantage as he quickly slipped through the door, dodging around her and darting into the living room. He ignored her outraged cry as he found his breath slipping away, eyes falling on the couch in the centre of the room.

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Two years prior.

“I’ll love you forever,” she murmured, her lips brushing his as she spoke. With her straddling his lap, head hanging over his, she looked a little like an angel, or at least she did to Luke. Her hair hung around her face, catching glimmers of light from the rising morning sun, and hugging her shoulders was a fluffy blue blanket, giving her a tired, ethereal look.

They’d fallen asleep on the sofa the night before, the wedding catalogues still strewn around on the coffee table in front of them.

“Nah,” Luke mumbled, feeling their noses rub. “Forever is a very long time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you won’t love me forever?” She teased, her voice light and airy.

Luke grinned, his eyes meeting hers. The depths of swirling love and peace he found in them made him feel happy, his chest full of unwavering adoration for the woman balanced above him. “I’ll love you for as long as I live,” he promised. He reached up to place a hand on her hip, revelling in the way her body heat seeped over his palm.

“That’s better,” she said, words slipping past her lips like honey. Then she leant down again, kissing him softly. Her hands trailed over his face, fingertips moving over each feature. Luke smiled against her lips as she dragged her fingers over his cheekbones, then down to scratch the scruff of his jaw, all before moving up to comb through his golden strands. When she pulled back, she did so with love in her eyes. “I’m going to love you forever,” she promised, fiddling with his hair. “And you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

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“I told you to leave me alone!” She screeched, slamming the door. Luke jumped, quickly turning around to watch as she stalked into the room. The closer she came, the sharper her features appeared. He noticed the large bags beneath her eyes, the way her hair was laying messily over her head. He frowned as he realised she looked completely exhausted, drained not even beginning to cover it. “How many times do I have to tell you, Luke? I don’t want you here. I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly turned up again, and I don’t care. Get. Out.” It was through gritted teeth she spat the words he hated to hear.

“I- C’mon Y/N, please just-”

She laughed mercilessly, shaking her head incredulously. “C’mon Y/N?! Seriously?” When Luke failed to say anything, she continued, her eyes wild. “You broke my heart and then you ran off, like a coward. You don’t deserve any of my time.”

Luke bit his lip, shaking his head slowly. “It wasn’t like that,” he tried.

“No?” She had a hand on her hip now, shrewd eyes seeming to bury into his soul. “Then what, pray tell, was it like?”

He felt tears begin to build in his eyes. It was a surreal experience to have the love of his life shouting at him, her gaze holding nothing but angered hurt. He felt like a terrible person, and as he exhaled a deep breath, he realised that was exactly who he’d become.

“The band took off,” he mumbled. “I was away in the studio a lot. We didn’t see each other enough and by the time it was ready to tour again, we both decided it’d be best to call things off-”

“No!” Y/N moved closer, her posture rigid. “That’s not what happened at all, and you know it.” He reached up to rub at his left eye, feeling his body begin to shake from the exertion of staying up when faced with her scrutinising glare. “You decided our relationship wasn’t worth putting any effort into. You took me for granted.” She began to count on her fingers, listing off every bone to pick that she had. “You were never home, you forgot all our important anniversaries, you never showed up for date nights. Luke, for fuck’s sake, you stopped caring! It’s awfully bold of you to come back, now, a year after you ignored me for the entirety of that fucking tour, and demand to speak to me.” She paused, shaking her head. Her hand dropped to her side as a tired sigh escaped her lips. “I’m happy,” she said, voice flat. “I’m really happy. You have no right to sweep in and take that away from me.”

Luke swallowed. “I know it seems like that, but it wasn’t like that for me.”

She shrugged. “I don’t care,” she admitted. “This is the past, Luke. I’ve not seen you in almost two years. I’ve moved on, and I have no desire to talk this through. You missed your shot when you got on that plane and never looked back.”

He felt a hot flash of regret surge in his chest. Sure, at the time he’d known he’d been pulling back. But it was all for the best. He thought that as soon as he’d finished the album, he’d get time to spend to Y/N, and they could patch up the small rift he’d created. But… The album turned into a year’s process, and over the time, he didn’t realise how far they’d truly drifted. It was only once it was completed and he had a week at home before embarking on the tour that he realised how terribly wrong he’d misjudged it.

And instead of patching things up, he’d hopped on the jet and left. Just...gone. And there was never a day that went by that he didn’t regret that, but the longer he left it, the worst it’d be if he ever went back.

So he didn’t.

He just left.

“I still love you,” Luke scrambled. He could feel desperation begin to creep in so he began to claw at straws, feeling the familiar distance between them. He hated it. “Y/N, I’m still in love with you. I might’ve fucked up, and I know I fucked up, but it doesn’t mean we cant- we can’t fix it. I love you.”

He brought his eyes up, terrified as he met her gaze. He felt a tear weave down his cheek as he saw her posture, twisted stoically, her body practically trembling with anger. When she spoke, it sent shivers down his spine.

"No, Luke,” she finally spat, face the picture of poignant anger. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to waltz in years later, crying over what could’ve been. You know why?” She took a step forward, close enough so he could see her fists were trembling. “Because when it all fell apart, you could just leave! You went off around the world and your life carried on. What did I have to do? Tell all of our friends. Watch their faces as I told them it was over, the wedding was off, and have to face their stupid fucking condolences.” She paused, taking a long, quivering breath. “You don’t get to do that.”

Luke looked away, his body flooding with guilt. “It wasn’t like that,” he tried, pleading quietly. “I didn’t just run away-”

“Yes, you did. You got your fucking assistant to come over and she packed up your shit. I never saw you again. No one heard from you for a month.” She moved back, walking over to a cabinet. As she began to furiously rummage through the drawers, she laughed bitterly. “She did a pretty bad job, by the way,” she continued. Luke screwed his eyes together to look at the object held in her hands, a pang of pain rippling through his chest when he realised what it was. “She didn’t even find the bloody ring.” With surprising strength, Y/N flung the small velvet box across the room. Luke barely caught it, the slippery object bouncing off his fingers as he fumbled for it. “You need to go.”

He stared blankly down at the box. “Are you sure?” He breathed. He jerked his head up, meeting her eyes. “Are you sure you’re happy with him? Are you- Are you sure he’s better for you than I was?”

She nodded. For the first time, the anger dissipated from her eyes. “Yes,” she said, her voice full of soft truth. “He’s the love of my life.” Then she was moving forward, pausing when she was a metre from Luke. “You have to let go, Lu. What we had was great while it lasted, but it fell apart, and it fell apart for a reason.” She smiled sadly, shaking her head. “It never would’ve worked long term.”

He disagreed, but seeing the fragility in her eyes, he bit his tongue. As he glanced around the apartment, he knew she was right. All around were photos of her with her friends, her smile wide and genuine. There were small mementos hanging everywhere, clearly gifts and memories from Adam. There were plants potted in pastel ceramic, a brightly-coloured rug on the floor, and an abundance of blankets strewn around. The whole place was nicer - apparently it had had an upgrade.

“Okay,” he said, feeling his shoulders slump. “I’m sorry for coming. And- And I’m sorry for ruining the engagement party.”

She shrugged slightly. “You had to say goodbye,” she reasoned, not sounding like she wanted him to stay any longer.

“Yeah.” Luke pocketed the ring, feeling the box bulge out against his pocket. “I guess I’ll go.”

She nodded again, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. As Luke began to trail towards the door, she called out, the mere sound of her voice causing him to pause. “Find a nice girl, okay? You deserve to be happy.”

With his head facing the door, he knew she couldn’t see the way his face twisted into an expression of utter despair. “I’ll try,” he replied, barely able to choke out the syllables. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

His fingers twitched over the doorknob, slowly turning it. As soon as the door clicked open, he heard her voice again, small as a whisper.

“Goodbye, Luke. Be happy.”

And then he slipped through the doorway, shutting it with a soft thump. The moment it closed, he let the tsunami hit. He wheezed, his chest burning as he slid down the wall, curling into a ball in the middle of the apartment corridor. He didn’t care that people could see him - didn’t care that he looked ridiculous rocking on the floor.

All he felt was regret, and a poignant longing to reverse time. It was too late. He was always too late. And where he could sometimes patch things up with a little sweet talk, he’d failed miserably when it mattered the worst.

She was gone, and there was no way he could ever get her back.

She was gone, and no matter how hard he wished, he knew she’d never be his again.

She was gone, and he knew he’d be haunted by her absence for the rest of his life.

She was gone.

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thatswhenyourefrom · 6 years ago

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Sunday’s Best - “Poised to Break” & The “Californian”

I wanted to give insight into the checkpoints of the external forces that make me who I am today. I won’t deny that most of these pieces will mostly stem from my adolescence (and also mostly be music), but I still act as clay in the presences of art around me. The selected pieces (or collections of pieces) may be precise or vast, so expect varying lenses. Most of what I wanted to bring to this conversation were my hidden gems; pieces I hold so true to me and me only. I came to a realization recently that some of my favorite albums and some of my favorite movies do not stick to some of my peers. I don’t expect them too. I also don’t expect to sway any opinions or justify any of my opinions. The expectation is to usher you in to the closest parts of me.

I first heard Sunday’s Best in 2002 on a Canadian tv show called Undergrads before I was in the double-digits. It was a background song (reused again in the end credits), but the chorus stuck in my head. Whether it be hummed, sang, or just spinning around in my head, the song and the sound was stuck (and remains to be to this day). This song has built a house on top of my brain.

In the early 2000’s, the internet was picking up a lot of steam, and even though I was a young little guy, i started to learn my way around it at a young age. Yet still, there was difficulty in finding what I was looking for. I needed to find the artist of this song and the name of the song and download it on Napster or Ares or Kazaa or Limewire (or……). When a certain mood would strike, I would feel almost nostalgic and go on journeys to find a soundtrack list of the songs involved with this show. The hunt for the past is what I craved, and still do. One day I found the Undergrads website, put up by MTV when they used to make websites for each individual show on their rotation. It was a flash site and you could navigate around a little picture and highlight items for more information. One setting to navigate was a bar. In that bar was a jukebox. In that jukebox was the soundtrack list.

I began downloading every song I could. To be entirely honest, I think that these two Sundays Best songs were relatively easy to find, since the rest of the soundtrack was made up by obscure Canadian power pop bands. After listening to the first song I downloaded I knew I had found it; the song was called “Saccharine”.

I mark this song as my touch point for what I would later call emo music. The cul de sac that now exists with the houses of The Promise Ring and Texas is the Reason would most likely not exist is I didn’t hear “Saccharine” when i was nine years old. It fit right in with the other music I liked at the time like Jimmy Eat World who had just brought the light of Bleed American to the world. I get amped in the same way when I hear “Saccharine” as I do “Sweetness” by Jimmy Eat World; youthful, energetic, a little pain, and most of all nostalgia.

[If you would like to split hairs for a minute, I really love the poppy sound of this song and it‘s a much more of a power pop/college rock sound that I was attracted to than something classically emo, but it paved the way, so i digress.]

The hooks still get me. The riffs enliven me. At the very least, you can walk away from this song thinking it it is a catchy bastard. If anyone in the world can take a step back, look in on this song, and for even a second understand that this is the foundation for some person’s entire musical world, you have found me out. I am an open book at that point.

This is one song.

There is another Sunday’s Best song in the soundtrack for Undergrads and it also rang in my head, but to a much lesser extent. “White Picket Fences” is a much more reserved song by comparison to “Saccharine.” Quieter, yet way more dynamic. It grows so much. From what I remember from Undergrads, the audience only hears the last section, a theme that is bigger and hookier than the mood the rest of the song lays.

These two songs remained on my iPod for years.

When I was around the ages of fifteen and sixteen, I decided that i really needed to figure out all of this mumbo jumbo and really hammer down the music that has plagued me for years. What is that sound I am looking for? I want more Sunday’s Best. Can’t just search indie rock. Can’t search punk. Can’t search anything. The keyword “emo” was found and i had suddenly discovered a bible.

I spent a ton of time getting to know a ton of new bands which continue to dominate the music I like today. In this discovery of bands, I also learned much about record labels, including Polyvinyl records. Guess who put out Sunday’s Best’s music.

I decided that I would make the gamble and buy the CD “Poised to Break” by Sunday’s Best from the Polyvinyl store. I call it a gamble, because I have been severely bitten by looking in deeper to a bands output only to find out that the single I love is by far the only thing I could find likeable. This is not the case. This album is ten songs of exactly what I love.

“The Hardest Part” is a strange opener, because it’s kind of big and heavy. The chorus is yelled for Christ sake. It’s easily the angriest sounding song for an otherwise mellow band that I would call energetic at most. Partially uncharacteristic, but still a damn fine song. Track 2, “Bruise Blue” would fit right in with the soundtrack of Undergrads (and parallely my life). It’s calm, full of hooks, emotional. Great. Followed by “Bruise Blue” is “White Picket Fences” and “Saccharine”. At this point, my thought it “well I have all of the best songs out of the way.” “Indian Summer” blows that away with a track that I am so surprised isn’t heralded as an indie rock classic. This song wants be on every mixtape and MTV show until the end of time. “When is Pearl Harbour Day” is an awesome song about nostalgia, including the following line which rings in my head all of the time: “I hate nostalgia, it tries to hard to remember only the easy parts.” Track 7 and 9 are both energetic ones. Track 8, “Looks Like a Mess” is a broody, melodramatic song that I am undeniably in love with. “Winter Owned” rounds out the album and brings it back to the energy of track 1 and employs the same mixed singer chorus. The final track (and bonus track) is called “Congratulations”. Full of hooks, personal experience of naivety and confusion. The secret track is an instrumental song I am sure they used to open sets with. I am glad they included it because it’s loud, slow and cool. To me, each track is unskippable.

The whole album sounds like a soundtrack to a teen drama show that were hugely popular in the late 90’s going into the early 2000’s. Shows like Buffy, Dawson's Creek, 90210, and so many others were drenched in naive and intense emotions, stories of love and personal growth, and youth culture which made them a perfect place for this type of music. I am lucky i got to grow up in the times when I did where I can look up to those people on the screen, then be them, then look back on them with a familiar nostalgia.

Years later I would find that Polyvinyl holds a “Garage Sale” where they sell their surplus records and cd’s for next to nothing. While flipping through the garage sale, I had discovered Sunday’s Best had a second full length. I must have unconsciously ignored this release due to my fear of ruining the sanctity of my entire musical foundation. Do I risk it? What if it sucks and it’s ten boring songs? Or what if they sound like other more popular bands of now? It did come out in 2002 when this type of music was the mainstream. This is more than just a $3 gamble.

I bought it. It’s called “The Californian”. It’s better than the first LP.

Again hitting a ten song track count, “The Californian” is a succinct mood of an album. Much more consistent in tone, the songs are a lot more mellow than the ones on the first LP. This doesn’t mean that it lacks dynamics or moments of intensity. But it does mean there’s less yelling, head banging, and anthemic lyrics. What arises is my own personal therapy. Whether it be because I found a lot of this music (emo) in the autumn seasons, or if my mood just drew my to these sounds during fall, I always return to my classics around this time. Monday was a brisk day and I put in “The Californian” and it immediately hooked a line to the center of my heart. The air reminded me to being a young person and being in high school and college and time passing and old friends and how I used to feel so big, and the songs from “The Californian” were not there to yell at me; they were there to hold me like mother to her child. Therapeutic.

Quick track by track: The album launches into “The Try”. Coming off of the first album, you immediately know this album has more pieces to each song (production wise) creating a huge sound. But it’s not wasted. Every melody is catchy as all hell. “The Try” reigns that in. Track two, the title track, continues this pace. The chorus bops around a bit. “Don’t Let It Fade” is the single. Very quiet. Very somber. The bridge is my favorite part. “The Salt Mines of Santa Monica” has more energy than the last two so it sounds like a bigger “Poised to Break” song. The second singer has great contributions in the pre-chorus. He is really being used in a more calculated way. “If We Had It Made” comes in with massive church bells sound. One of my favorite songs. I love the bells. I don’t entirely know what the song is about, but the chorus moves me. Track 6 is a rocker. Even so, it’s consistent. “Without Meaning” was used in a Gilmore Girls and it’s directed melodrama fits that vibe really well. “Beethoven St.” is pure Sunday’s Best. If you wanted to write a song like them, copy this song. “Brave But Brittle” has a lot of the classic emo riffs. The way the intro falls over itself and then morphs into have arpeggios. Another favorite of mine. The last track is easily my least listened to song, but that’s because I usually reach my destination listing to this album in the care. It’s great though and I kick myself for missing it.

(I could give more in depth track-by-track if requested, but that isn’t necessarily the point of the writing.)

This band and these two lengths are an emblem of my growth. They are a tree that has stood my whole life and I am still sustained by its fruit. The sound that is contained in these albums is contains a definition of who I am and what I love. When you cannot articulate a feeling with direct words, you use art. That’s what artists do. Though I could never imagine conjuring this feeling inside of anyone else with my own art, I am glad I can direct others to this album and this feeling. It it’s hooks can get in and you let yourself get pulled, you can be me.

-luke

#r #by luke

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gospelmusic · 4 years ago

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Catholic Daily Reading + Reflection: 11 November 2020 - Was No One Found To Return And Give Praise To God Except This Foreigner?

Readings at Mass for Wednesday November 11, 2020

Weekday (32) ordinary Time Vestment: White Today’s Rosary: The Glorious Mystery SAINT MARTIN OF TOURS, Bishop (Memorial) Death Anniversary of Archbishop G. G. Ganaka of Jos on 11th Nov 1999

FIRST READING

“We ourselves were once led astray, but when the loving kindness of God appeared, he saved us.” A reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to Titus (Titus 3:1-7) Beloved: Remind everyone to be submissive to rulers and authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for any honest work, to speak evil of no one, to avoid quarrelling, to be gentle, and to show perfect courtesy towards all men. For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by men and hating one another; but when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Saviour appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by us in righteousness, but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit, which he poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Saviour, so that we might be justified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal life. The word of the Lord.

RESPONSORIAL PSALM Psalm 23:1-3a.3b-4.5.6 (R. 1)

R/. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want. Fresh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me; he revives my soul. R. He guides me along the right path, for the sake of his name. Though I should walk in the valley of the shadow of death, no evil would I fear, for you are with me. Your crook and your staff will give me comfort. R. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); You have prepared a table before me in the sight of my foes. My head you have anointed with oil; my cup is overflowing. R. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. In the Lord’s own house shall I dwell for length of days unending. R.

ALLELUIA I Thessalonians 5:18

Alleluia. Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Alleluia.

GOSPEL

“Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” A reading front the holy Gospel according to Luke (Luke 17:11-19) On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices and said, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then said Jesus, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.” The Gospel of the Lord.

Today's Reflection

The qualities of good Christian living are enumerated in the first reading: Obedience, openness, peaceable, considerate, gracious to all, not to be slanderous, not to be slaves to various desires and pleasures, not living in malice and envy and not hating one another. The gospel reading of today teaches the virtues of faith and gratitude. The faith of the lepers healed them. It shows that Jesus has power over every form of disease and that his words are efficacious. Ten lepers were healed but only one of them returned to give thanks to Jesus. The only one that returned was a Samaritan. The Samaritans were not regarded well by the Jews. We should not look down on any tribe or race. We should be thankful to God and others for the good we receive every moment.

Today's Saint: SAINT MARTIN OF TOURS, Bishop

Martin was born in Hungary in the year 316 but was raised in Italy where he became a soldier and a Christian. He was still a catechumen when he divided his cloak, giving half to a poor man. Later he had a vision of Christ with that man’s face. Eventually Martin went to Gaul where he founded a monastery. In the year 372 he was made bishop of Tours and, until his death in 397, he used all his time and energy to spread the Christian faith in the countryside around Tours. St Martin of Tours is one of our most beloved and well known Catholic saints — he even had a confrontation with Satan! - Lord, if your people need me, I will not refuse the work. Your will be done.

Personal Devotional

Let us Pray I begin my day acknowledging you my God as the greatest. You have shown me your goodness once again by making me see the light of this day. May your holy and mighty name be praised forever. Amen. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); I offer to you all my plans for this day and this new week. If you do not go with me, I will not succeed. Lead me and clear the path for me so that everything will work well in your name. Amen. Bless the work of my hands, bless all those who will come around me. May I be a child of the light wherever I go. Amen. Keep me safe at all times from every evil plan and may your glory protect me from any attack. Amen. Dear friend, rise up and begin your day with confidence for the Lord is with you and will make his blessings fall on you. Put in your best in what you do and God will make you have cause to rejoice at the end of the day. May your strength to follow that path of truth and righteousness never fail you and with Christ you will overcome! A new day, a new opportunity and with God in it, a new blessing will come. Amen.

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avoutput · 7 years ago

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Forced Perspective || The Last Jedi

The Last Jedi had a profound effect on me by the time the curtain closed. Rian Johnson had forced me to reach deep inside and ask a question I had never really thought about when it came to Star Wars. And once that first question had passed through my mind, it turned out to be merely a cork holding back more. Star Wars has always been something I have taken for granted. I was born shortly after Return of the Jedi, and since then I have always known it to be a safe space for all who dare to learn of science fiction. It’s shallow waters, the wading pool, calm, warm, and relaxing. Anyone can enjoy it and did. You can safely discuss it at a mixed party because even if no one has seen it, they are aware of it. Almost like using the force, as it connects and binds us together, you can find a friend just by mentioning its name. But now, out of the shallow waters, I come ashore, bothered by the question that weighs heavy on my mind. I sit on my own Nerd Island, alone but for the internet that connects us all, and I am forced to ponder still, “Do I like Star Wars?”

I am older now, but I grew up with the Skywalkers. It was the kind of series that was almost like a baby blanket; you carry it around with you everywhere, pacifying your insecurities and passing the endless afternoons lost in its embrace. In my tweens, episodes 1 through 3 had arrived, but I was still a bit too young to tear them down or pull them apart or really do anything but watch. I knew it felt off, but so too did the Special Editions. At the time, I thought maybe I just didn’t like change or that I was jaded. When The Force Awakens landed, I was impressed. Mostly because I had come to terms with the prequels in some way and Episode VII returned Star Wars to its roots with a modern visual twist. Now, The Last Jedi, has come to basically tell fans everything they wanted to hear. “You were right. Practical effects don’t need to replaced. All your favorite characters are the legends you have always built them up to be. You deserve to be rewarded for your faith. Star Wars is everything YOU want it to be.” We can look at this film as the Star Wars cannon that exploits everything about its universe for the good of the viewer. But that line of thought all derives from the fan in me. The fan I am now questioning. Because now, this fan is not only an adult, but an amateur film critic.

I had trouble digesting this film. The Last Jedi pushes Star Wars in directions I don’t think anyone thought the cinematic cannon would allow. It is a daring film in its own universe, far more so then its mirror film The Empire Strikes Back. But the more I thought about it, the more I recognized how many choices were made for the sake progressing the story. To be clear, without giving anything away, there are many unexplained transitions. People returning to or ending up in places inexplicably. Though at points glaringly obvious, they deftly move past this, showing us cannon defining consequences for the characters, possibly as a way to divert your attention from their laziness. You can’t help feel that it's all too convenient. The narrative is tenuously held together. Were the audience given much of a chance, they might start asking questions, and the more questions you ask, the more you realize you have been rationalizing the plot for the writers. “How did Rey get there? Oh, she must have…” This seemed to me to have been the bane of science fiction/fantasy stories, especially those that are advanced completely by the characters like Star Wars. Unlike most films in this category, the characters are the focus point and the world revolves around them. Unexplained transition is by far the largest flaw in the film. The original trilogy by comparison had a solid narrative, possibly due to the technology at the time or the sentiments of film and storytelling. A New Hope explained each coincidence or choice along the way, and not always verbally, but visually as well.

Recognizing The Last Jedi’s narrative issues, it was still able to do something films aren’t always able to do. It connects with you emotionally. I had goosebumps, my palms were sweaty, I felt sad, happy, and excited. At this point, I realize I am having trouble viewing this as an outsider. Star Wars is too close to me. Objectively, I would argue that the value of an emotional connection in a story is higher than any flaw found with its execution. It also has the added benefit of being a serialized story, building with each entry. But, if you are able to connect with your audience, through visuals, music, acting, and direction, than you have effectively made a “good” film, even if much of the emotional connection relies on previous entries. Still, this can be a hard torch to pass, it isn’t without its difficulty. Visually, you couldn’t ask for a more satisfying Star Wars. It is ripe with an amazing color palette, physical props, some of the best CGI in the game, and more than enough background fun for fans. The music is a bit more bombastic than in previous outings and at times feels a bit out of place, but it still ranks as some of the most iconic in cinema. The softer songs are so inspired, I can see myself listening to them often in the future. And finally, Mark Hamill gets to be the man we always wanted him to be. Cool. Mark Hamill is finally cool. A brooding old Jedi Master, Hamill brings to life a version of Luke that Hayden Christensen should have been able to manifest in Anakin. It has become my favorite performance by Hamill to date. Oscar worthy? Not by Earth standards, but Star Wars fans might never find better. The late Carrie Fisher was much more comfortable playing Leia than her stilted performance in The Force Awakens. She was commanding, nurturing, funny, and natural. The rest of the cast, Adam Driver (Kylo Ren), Daisy Ridley (Rey), John Boyega (Finn), Oscar Isaac (Poe), and Domhnall Gleeson (Gen. Hux) all play up their characters for bigger laughs and deeper emotional connections this time. Newcomer Kelly Marie Tran (Rose) instantly fell into the ranks without any trouble at all.

This brings me back to director Rian Johnson. I own all of his major releases, Brick (2005), The Brothers Bloom (2008), and Looper (2012). (I only realized this having just looked at his IMDB page.) He has a special eye for detail, the kind of quality that breathes life into anything he points a camera at. The backdrops and surroundings are just as important as the people standing in them, and he has his own spin on this, using clean lines and hyper detail. He also seemed to have a hard on for Anime, like Cowboy Bebop or Macross. All of his talents are at their peak in The Last Jedi. However, there are moments of in this film that seem a bit compromised. Mostly, it’s the forced, unnatural comedy. The film opens a bit like Thor, with a dull, moronic, misplaced joke that might satiate the masses, but it felt so out of place for Star Wars. It’s not that it disturbed the natural order of a sci-fi/fantasy, but it definitely reminds you that you are in a theater, on planet earth, in the year 2017, which is something I am trying to escape from. And these jokes are found throughout the film, quite possibly meant to balance correct the mood of a “Disney” film, but they could have found more natural ways to go about it. In The Force Awakens, the comedy comes from a natural shtick, bumping into things, miscommunication, and dramatic character interactions. Still, Johnson always drew me back in with his love of the characters at the heart of the Skywalker saga. He took care to make sure that every moment on screen advances who they are and conflicts with who they want to be. He drew out an originality in Star Wars I haven’t seen since The Empire Strikes Back.

Having spent the better part of the day thinking about my initial question, I have come to a conclusion. Star Wars means more to me symbolically than any flaw you can find in it as a film. And while my ability to look at the film objectively has caused me to philosophically question my devotion to both film and Star Wars, I have come out the other side able to recognize that some projects, over time, become a part of you. They transcend your ability to be critical of their flaws, because like family, they can be forgiven. I forgave the prequels of all their misgivings because they still gave me more than they took away. I still had hope for them. I still had hope for Star Wars. That being said, The Last Jedi may have problems gluing together its parts, but the parts it is trying to stick together are still powerful and impressive cinema, whether that be the actors, script, set, effects, music, or story. It still sits on the pillars of everything Star Wars was built upon and stands for. It still brings people together both on screen and in the theater. So, do I like Star Wars? Yes. Do I like The Last Jedi? Absolutely. Is it a good film? It depends on who you ask, it has its problems, but from where I’m sitting, it seems the force is strong with this one.

May the force be with you, always.

~* 8/10 *~

(Secret Star Wars Score: 9/10)

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entireoranges-creativity · 7 years ago

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Untitled and barely edited

After much self debate and following my heart and mind I have come to the realization that the top secret Garvez fic from a few months ago isn't going anywhere. I lost my mojo and am stuck. I know my track record and I'll never pick it up again. This was the main reason I was attempting to finish it before sharing as a work in progress. The thing is I actually like what I had (well most of it LOL) and I don't want my work to go to waste. So I decided to share it. I have it separated for the different chapters but for the sake of sanity just gonna put it all together. I suppose if anyone would want to continue it I won't argue with it. Sorry I wasn't able to finish it.

Title: TV Show: Criminal Minds Ship: Garvez (eventually lol) Note: Takes place after the events in 13.4 Disclaimer: I don't own don't sue

At what point exactly the conversation had switched to Garcia Luke couldn’t exactly say, but it wasn’t a topic that he minded. Being still new to the team it was Emily that lead the majority of the discussion sharing anatotes and silly stories she held in her head from nearly thirteen years of history.

“She really is something else huh?” Luke chuckles as he throws the final piece of garbage of their late night dinner into the bin.

“That she is. No matter how dark and depressing things can become Penelope Garcia is that permanent flashing light in the storm."

“Do you think she’s ok?” Emily sighs, she knew what Luke was referring to and the entire evening, even longer, it had been quietly buzzing in her head as well. Besides being a beacon of light Garcia was also sensitive at times nearly at fragile levels. The team respected that, gave her space after more difficult cases, didn’t reprimand her for her office not meeting FBI requirements.

“I honestly don’t know Alvez. That case...those children...I don’t know.”

“We’re trained to process these type of things, how exactly you train yourself to process shit like that, I’m not entirely sure but somehow we do. I know I’ll be okay tonight. Same as you. Garcia though?”

“Yeah. I know. Perhaps I should give her a call?”

“No. Better yet let’s just go over there Emily. I have no doubt she’s still awake.”

“And I know a diner on the way that sells her favorite pie.’ She stands up walking to the desk and pulls out her purse and keys from the bottom drawer. ‘Come on Luke our lighthouse needs saved.”

Title: TV Show: Criminal Minds Ship: Garvez (eventually lol) Note: Takes place after the events in 13.4 Disclaimer: I don't own don't sue

The topic of work in any capacity never came up. Anything that could be considered a stresser was held back from being said again. For the nearly two hours the three of them gathered in Garcia’s living room they didn’t say much in reality instead opting towards watching a movie. Neither Luke or Emily were surprised when a sweet family animated movie was selected. They all right then could use a non-stresser of a night. Trolls certainly was able to help provide that.

“I think she’s asleep.” There was no thinking about it, Emily’s soft snores gave away Luke’s quandary.

“Yeah. Sometimes I don’t know how she stays sane. Any of the team.” Garcia gently stands up from the couch careful not to hit the sleeping late night guest and removes a gray blanket from the bookshelf. Without saying anything she hands it to Luke who carefully lays atop of Emily.

“It’s hard.” He feels he should say more, try to reassure her that everything was gonna be okay, but she had already nodded solemnly and step out of view into the kitchen. Emily’s snores increase in volume and he finds a smiling at her fondly. In the last year, now more then a year he hadn’t recalled ever seeing her sleep. Everyone else on the plane had some point or other had slept on the often late night flights back to D.C. but never Emily Prentiss. Either working on something with the case or lost in thought.

“She’s pretty amazing huh?” Garcia had returned holding a Kermit The Frog mug with a liquid steaming out of it.

“Sure is. Gotta say with the nearly countless people who have served as my superior she's within the top 5.”

“No, she’s the best.” Garcia says matter of factly. Luke chuckles.

“Ok she’s the best.” A silence that held the room the majority of the evening has returned. Garcia takes a seat in the cushion chair that Luke had previously been occupying as she sips gingerly from the mug.

“It has to be hard for you.” She states after a few moments.

“What is?”

“To be in love with her and not be able to do anything.” At that moment Luke was grateful he hadn’t been offered anything to drink because he’d either do the ultimate spit take and or drop the mug onto the carpet.

“What?! I’m not.” He responses in a harsh and panicked whisper hoping it won’t awake a certain someone.

“It’s okay to admit it. Despite my repetition of not being able to I can keep a secret.”

“There isn’t anything to admit. Emily is great but yeah no.” Garcia lowers her eyes and glares at him as if trying to bore into his mind perhaps his soul.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her.” Luke stays silent, he was completely unaware of any looks recently he had given to Emily (or any individual for that matter) which would have opened Garcia’s opinion to this conclusion.

“Yeah um no.” He considers apologizing for not having feelings for their unit chief but opts against. That silence returns, this time it felt heavy. He pulls his cellphone from his pocket to get see how late it was. Twenty minutes til two. He was surprised Susannah hadn’t called or texted to see when he was coming by to get Roxy. He had previously informed her he was back in town and would get Roxy that night. Though apart of him suspected Susannah would dognap his baby and live on the run. Perhaps dressing the canine in silly costumes. Luke snickers at the images in his head and silliness of his delusions. He lifts his head back up to Garcia only to find she had followed Emily’s move and had fallen asleep. For a second he’s disappointed, he would have loved to know what she thought of Roxy dressed as a pirate. Perhaps another evening. He steps quietly to the same bookshelf that held Emily’s blanket and removes one for Garcia. He removes the nearly empty mug from her hand placing it on the coffee table before drapping the at times crazy tech analyst with a red and blue striped fabric.

Luke is about to make his venture out to get his dog and get home at last when it occurs to him he didn’t have a key to the door. He certainly didn’t have the heart to wake either of the women. And no way in hell was he gonna leave with the apartment unsecured.

Sorry if this wakes you. Can’t get Roxy tonight. Thx for watching her. Will get in morning.

Once the text to Susannah is sent a wave of pure nearly knocking you out exhaustion hits Luke. Garcia’s room with her bed was not gonna happen. He looks around and sees next to Emily is the only viable place. Spotting the light switch it flips it down and using the outside lights shining in from the window cautiously makes his way back the couch. In mere minutes he is asleep.

Title: TV Show: Criminal Minds Ship: Garvez (eventually lol) Note: Takes place after the events in 13.4 Disclaimer: I don't own don't sue

As an FBI agent and before that an Army Ranger he knows when someone is watching him, staring at him. His heart starts to increase in tempo, the fight or flight response is starting to battle within. Next to him something or rather someone starts to stir and push against his body. At that point Luke finally opens his eyes to fall upon Garcia in a different outfit then he previously saw her in staring down grinning. He turns ever so slightly to discover at some time that night the cushion of nothingness between him and Emily they both now shared the space. He even had the majority of what had been her blanket. Emily is the first to scrabble to her feet and make a beeline down the hall; he assumes to the bathroom.

“See? I told you.” Garcia almost says in a sing-song voice.

“See what?”

“You like her. Even if subconsciously you like her Luke.” He rubs his eyes fiercely letting a groan escape.

“I don’t. We were just two adults who slept on the same couch. Thats. All.” Garcia shrugs before turning away herself and walks into her kitchen.

“What do you want in your scrabbled eggs?”

“Actually I need to get go....”

“I got peppers, onions, sooooo many cheeses. What’s your poison L.A.?” He smirks at the newest moniker for his name.

“Thank you Garcia but if I don’t get Roxy soon I’m not gonna have her any longer.” The sound of a metal utensil falling on a tile counter, a gasp, and barefeet hitting wooded floor fill Luke’s ears.

“Oh my God what happened to Roxy?!” He understands smiling let alone laughing would be the worst thing to do, but God he couldn’t help it.

“Garcia she’s fine.” He at last gets out, her glaring at him helped speed up his recovery.

“You said you weren’t gonna have her any longer.”

“Yeah as in Susannah my dog sitter is gonna insist on just keeping her.” A stare down between the two commences, it’s broken when the bathroom door reopens and Emily walks back into the living room.

“Good morning.” Emily says to both, but her glance only lands on Garcia.

“Good morning my sweet princess! Sleep well?” Luke can swear Garcia gave a wink in his direction. He nearly throws his hands up in disbelief. What exactly did she think could have occurred with herself literally sitting a foot away?!

“Yeah it was nice. But I’m gonna have a kink in my neck.” He would have said the same if asked.

“I’m sorry my love. I’m making scrambled eggs. Just let me know whatcha want in them!” Emily’s eyes grow wide and without invention moseys into the kitchen with Garcia pivoting to follow. He remains on his spot on the couch hearing mutters of their discussion, refrigerator opening and closing, pots being shuffled around. He removes his cellphone. 7:37 and 5 missed calls and 12 text messages from Susannah.

“Shit.” He leaps up and beelines to the door.

“Everything ok Luke?” Emily pokes her head out of the kitchen, Garcia hovering behind.

“Yeah fine. Its just Roxy I need to...”

“Of course! Thank you for last night. It meant a lot to me.” Luke is surprised Emily didn’t turn at the gasp Garcia made, but grateful she was missing the apparent ‘I told ya I knew something is going on!’ grin.

“Anytime. And thank you Penelope for the movie and the couch. Maybe another time I can try those scrambled eggs.” His phone starts to vibrate still being on silent. Susannah, of course. The women give him a wave as he answers and slips out of the apartment.

Title: TV Show: Criminal Minds Ship: Garvez (eventually lol) Note: Takes place after the events in 13.3 Disclaimer: I don't own don't sue

Luke exchanges a look with JJ, it didn’t take six hundred hours in profiling training to have the sense something in that poor woman’s story wasn’t adding up. Or at least there were important elements being left out which could mean Kimberly’s life or another one of her clients being saved. He knew if anyone could dig through the half truths and missing information it would be a certain technical analyst.

“Cool hand Luke, what you need?” He smirks before giving an unexpected chuckle. And he thought that L.A. was an improvement.

“Wow, I like the way that sounds, Garcia. You feeling ok?” The opportunity to tease her about it despite the fact it made him feel good and appreciated as more then the ‘new guy’ or ‘newb’ couldn’t be passed up.

“I am naturally magnanimous in word and deed, and when it comes your way, bask in it. What do you want?” He feels his smile turning up again at her explanation in usual Garcia style.

“Listen, JJ and I’ Why he suddenly had a the foresight to mention JJ was prefy to this conversation was one he couldn’t answer. He assumed she knew he wasn’t alone, on calls like this it’s often groups spoken on speaker phone. ‘We need to run background checks on all the male members of the Desmond family. We were told that they're deceased, but we need verification.” Luke keeps going back to why would someone lie about that? What was being held back from them?

“So cyber grave-digging, look for zombies. Got you.” He won’t quite put it like that but any other response from Garcia he won’t accept or believe he was conversating with the real Garcia.

“You can start by double-checking a death certificate for Conrad Desmond sometime in '99.” JJ adds to the phone call helping reign in exactly what they were looking for to speed things along for everybody’s sake.

“I am the genie in genealogy. Just rub my lamp. That came out wrong. Goodbye.” The sound of her pure panic and picturing her expression was priceless.

“Wow.” Luke couldn’t help himself as he mutters at the dash of the vehicle.

“What did you do to her?” JJ questions a smile equally wide on her face. Luke shrugs not sure how to answer. He didn’t do anything to her, it was Garcia being Garcia. No more no less. He can see in his peripheral view that his passenger is staring him down.

“What?”

“You know what Alvez. I’ve known Penelope for over ten years. She’s the Godmother to both my boys. To say I know her well is understatement. And that Garcia right then and in fact almost anytime she’s interacting with you nearby isn’t the Garcia I have known.” Luke still is unsure of how to respond. This wasn’t the first occurrence he had been told this. He always chalked it up with the friendly banter he had with Garcia.

“It’s just Garcia being Garcia.” He hopes that’ll be a satisfactory response. He sees JJ shake her head.

“Nope. I don’t buy it.’ She pauses before her small smile erupts into a full ear to ear grin. ‘I think she likes you!” He knows immediately what definition of like was being applied. Great just great. Now not only was he involved with Emily occurring to Garcia; he now was involved with Garcia occurring to JJ. He never would have suspected working for the BAU was a keen to being back in high school.

“JJ, she can barely tolerate me.” He knew that was a lie. Their relationship had made great strides the past few weeks.

“No. I’m telling you Luke there’s something there. And she’s pretty awesome too. Just saying.” She adds the last part softly. He can only hope JJ didn’t see his eyes roll into his head.

Title: TV Show: Criminal Minds Ship: Garvez (eventually lol) Note: Takes place after the events in 13.5 Disclaimer: I don't own don't sue

Luke stares out the window of the jet the latest briefing of what they were arriving to in under an hour had just been completed. Various topics from the other agents filtered in and out of his ears but they were just sounds to him. She had been shot? Garcia had been shot? He had studied and learned the histories professionally and personally of everyone on this jet; and Hutch and Steven too. Then it occurs to him he had never fully cracked Garcia files or asked in-depth questions involving her. Not because she didn’t matter to him, rather because much as she was involved with the team she was an outsider and not a true BAU agent. Plus it was Garcia she sits in front of multiple screens 97 percent of the time, Luke could justify why he never asked her ‘hey have you ever been shot and have that shooting be in connection to your job?’ But he still felt guilty as if he failed her not knowing.

“It was one of the scariest things I ever dealt with. Still is.” He looks up to see Spencer has moved seats to the one directly in front of himself. Luke did know Spencer’s history and if that statement was true he knew it had to have been extremely bad.

“I just feel really bad that she has to deal with all that. I’ve dealt with, hell I will always be fighting the PSTS demons until the day I die, so I’ve seen the signs. That what we saw was it clear as day.” Spencer nods knowingly himself.

“What makes it worse is I don’t think Garcia has ever dealt with it. I mean really dealt with it. You deal and master your experiences with Afghanistan. I have started therapy for my time in prison...”

“You have?’ Spencer nods once again. ‘Good for you Spence. But yeah I hear ya Garcia for what I can gather her wounds healed, the initial emotional drama faded, and that was it. It works for a time, sometimes even ten years but unless she really faces it she’ll never heal.”

“I don’t think she realizes there is a wound still, at least not until a few hours ago. And in a couple days it’ll be covered up again.”

“Until there is another trigger which could occur at any time. It has to be hell for Garcia the knowledge it’s always somewhere lurking in the back of her mind and without proper therapy or help she can’t handle it.”

“I think just being there for her on the days it begins to crumble is all we can do. Because much as I hate she never got help I’m not fool to think she’ll ever seek actual help.” Spencer sighs and turns to the window as the jet begins its decent back to the ground.

Title: TV Show: Criminal Minds Ship: Garvez (eventually lol) Note: Takes place after the events in 13.5 Disclaimer: I don't own don't sue

“Great job everyone. I’m really proud of you guys. This one... it was a hard one.” Emily address her team as they gather up their assortment of bags and begin to get off the jet. At this moment more then anything Luke wants to pop open a beer drown it down, followed by another, and another until the world and more importantly his memories become a blur. He exchanges a look with Matt, his face expressing the same. He didn't have to contiune looking at the others to know they were all on the same boat. Not all cases created this reaction, but this was as Emily said a hard one. The herd of them follow towards their offices to clean up the last few things before the relaxation process when the group is stopped by an excited Garcia and JJ equally as joy filled.

"Oh! Here they are. It's the whole everyone, ok, whole family, whole family is here. Whole family, I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize. I am so..." She says with a pure sincerty in her words. Luke all during the case and away from her wanted to give her a call, send a text. to do anything to allow her knowledge of the fact he cared; but he knew that others on the team had gone an amazing job keeping her head above the water line.

"You don't have to apologize. We all understand from experience." Emily poiletly cuts Garcia off.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"All right. I'll shake that off. Uh, I am going to recommit to living life to the fullest.' Something in Luke strings, as he and Spencer had previously discussed she was covering up the pain. He sure a visit with Derek Morgan did wonders for her and was a great bandaid, but this simple solution of shaking it off didn't fly for him. 'Right now, to that end, I'd like to invite everybody over to my house for a celebration of life, liberty, and the pursuit of responsible intoxication." However right now more then his desire to help her Luke still wanted to get drunk. And he couldn't think of a better place or group of people to do it with

"All right." One spoken agreement for everybody.

"To the home cave!"

+++

Yeah so that’s it. My vision was Garcia was gonna try to set up Luke & Emily and perhaps try to recruit some of the team on her “side” while JJ was gonna try to do the same with Luke & Garcia and also try to get others on the team on her “side”. I also was trying to deal with Garcia not really dealing with her stress and constantly burying things down and Luke was gonna force her to deal with it.

#tv show: criminal minds #ship: garvez #garvez

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nyx-ships · 8 years ago

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Stand By Me (Part One)

Title: Stand By Me Pairing: Delitoonz Rating: T Word Count: 3285 A/N: @fantasyeuphoriaandlace made the mistake of telling me that anything written to the Florence + The Machine version of "Stand By Me" would make her cry. >:) This is part one of a two part fic. -------------------------------------------- He knew. He knew the second Luke came home, smelling like sex and alcohol. He could put two and two together. But he never, never in his mind, thought that his boyfriend, his true love, would do this to him. Never in a millions years did he ever think Luke would pull the ultimate betrayal. Was he bored with him. Was Jon not enough for him? Was Jon doing something wrong in the relationship? There had to be a reason. Whatever it was that drove the older to cheating, it didn't make the situation any less agonizing. Of course, Jon had known for quite some time. He was just waiting for the biggest piece of evidence, the thing that would truly cement his fate. And it had just shown itself. "Get out." His words were harsh and demanding, covering his broken heart. "What?" His words were clipped and confused, as if he didn't know the reason why. "You heard me," Jon looked up from his spot on the couch, eyes digging into Luke's own, "Get. Out." Luke had no reason to act so shocked about his words, they had been arguing for two hours, over the text Luke received. He had been in the kitchen at the time, and Jon was on the couch watching tv, snuggled under a pile of blankets, momentarily forgetting his suspicions to enjoy his night, when he glanced over at the new message on Luke's phone, from an unnamed contact, which the older had mistakenly left on the arm of the couch. *You left your jacket here, swing by later for it and maybe a quickie?* That was all the evidence Jon needed. Two hours of yelling and things being thrown across the room, and Jon was tired. But he was also done. Done with the lies, the secrecy, done with Luke. He loved that man more than life itself, but he couldn't stand by and pretend that he wasn't hurt, broken. He couldn't just let it go. He wanted, needed, Luke out of his house. Not out of his life, though. He still needed Luke as a friend, but obviously a relationship wasn't in order for the two. But right now, he was angry and upset, and he really wanted Luke away from him. He couldn't stand to sleep in the same bed as him, let alone the same house. Not while knowing his body had been touched by another. Jon stared at the wall, voice rough and quiet as he almost begged for Luke to go. "Please, get out. Just-just take your stuff and leave." Luke was quiet for a few moments before he finally moved, grabbing his phone and going to their shared bedroom, where he stayed for a good half hour, presumably packing his things. Jon stayed in his spot on the couch, a couple tears slipping from his eyes, but he willed them to stop while he wrapped himself in a blanket and sipped on the tea he had made himself prior to the argument. He stared at the tv, not really paying attention to what was on, more so using the colors and noise as a distraction. He really thought Luke loved him. He really thought Luke was the one, the man to stand by his side and keep him sane. What a mistake. But, in his defense, in all the years Jon had known the bearded man, he had never once done this to any of his significant others. So what made him do it now? Jon had no idea, and as he listened to the undeniable sound of Luke hitting the wall in the next room, he still couldn't figure it out. When Luke came out of the room, he had a couple suitcases packed with all of his stuff, save his guns and some of his shoes. He had his phone in his back pocket, and it buzzed with a new message, but he didn't bother answering it. He cleared his throat as he stood by the door, hand on the knob as he spoke. "I'll be back later to grab the rest of my stuff..." Jon gave a small nod, head down as he stared at his drink, taking note of his reflection, a question coming into his brain. The question he so badly wanted an answer to. He swallowed harshly, and just as Luke was opening the door, his voice filled the silence. "Who is it." Luke stayed silent, not knowing how to tell the younger male who he had been sleeping with, who he had been going to on occasion. Jon sighed, eyes closing and hands tightening on the mug in his hands, voice a little louder, a little less inviting. "I just wanna know who it is." A few more minutes of tense silence before Luke answered, pushing Jon further into his pit of despair. "Evan." If his heart hadn't broke all the way before, it sure as hell did now. His best friend. Jon didn't speak after that. He just bit his lip and stared at his tea, a sick feeling in his gut as he waited. Not until he heard the door closing and the starting of a car did he let himself cry. At that moment, he really let himself go, placing his tea on the coffee table and curled his legs to his chest, eyes releasing tear after tear as he let out the sobs he had been so carefully holding back. He cried, and he cried hard. Probably harder than he ever had, but it was understandable. Why wouldn't it be. And he didn't feel ashamed, no, he deserved to let the tears fall, he had just been through a Hell like no other. But, at least it couldn't get worse than this, right? Wrong. His phone went off, the ringtone painful to hear. *So darling, darling, stand by me It was their song. Oh, stand by me* His favorite song that Luke would sing to him when he was upset. How ironic it was now. He picked up the phone with shaking hands and a heavy heart, willing the tears to stop and his voice to sound normal, to end the song and start a conversation. "Hello?" "Hey, Jon. I tried to message you but you weren't answering." Ryan. He always called at the worst times, didn't he? "Oh, sorry, haha. I was takin' a nap, whas'up?" He heard the soft breathing of the male on the other line, as if he wasn't sure of what to say. "I was just wondering if you wanted to record in a little while-are you alright? You sound upset." He could always see through Jon's fake happiness. Jon put him on mute for a second while he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and answering with a more joyful tone. "Yeah, I'm fine dude. S'prolly 'cause I just woke up, haha." He could feel the reluctance on Ryan's side, could feel the worry radiating off his friend. "You sure?" "Positive," he paused for effect, "what game did ya have in mind, man?" He could hear Ryan sighing, and knew the older one wasn't going let it go. He was going to push Jon to tell him the issue. But Jon didn't want to share this issue. "I was thinking we could do some Battleship. I would pick Deceit, but Bryce is asleep and Luke isn't answering his phone-listen, are you sure there's nothing you wanna talk about?" The sharp inhale after he mentioned Luke must've given Jon away. And at this point, Jon was on the verge of bawling again. He knew he wouldn't last long before he broke down. So, he took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in his throat, and spoke. "I'm not in a good place right now..." He heard a noise that must've been Ryan opening his fridge. "What happened, Delirious?" The heartbroken man closed his eyes at the nickname and the concern in Ryan's voice. He exhaled shakily and bit his lip, finally tearing down his walls and bursting out his secret. "Luke cheated on me..." The words were harsh and abrupt, with a hint of pain, and Ryan stayed silent on the other line, frozen in place at the news. He was confused, completely caught by surprise. This wasn't likely to be a joke, but he half hoped it was. Luke wouldn't possibly do that, would he? 30 seconds of Ryan thinking later, and he could hear Jon crying. It wasn't a sound he was accustomed to, it was one he had hoped he'd never hear. But the fact that Luke was the reason for those heartbreaking cries is what made it ten times worse. Ryan could only manage two words at the moment. "Oh, Jon...." Jon hated the way he said it. It was filled with pity, and he absolutely hated being pitied. So he stopped his tears for a moment to speak to his friend, hoping for some type of empathy. "I don't know what to do, Ry. I really don't know what to do. For fuck's sake, I loved him, I still do love him. But I can't look at him the same..." He heard Ryan sigh and shift before he got an actual response. "Jesus, I don't know, Jon. This shit is rough. Does he know you know?" Jon swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, then realized he wasn't face to face with Ryan, and spoke. "I kicked him out, man. I could barely look at him. Just a little bit ago." He could feel Ryan's reluctance to ask, but he pressured him anyways, Jon was an open book now that would be read, whether he wanted to or not. "What is it, Ryan?" "....with who?" Jonathan should've known this question would pop up, but it didn't make it any easier. He could feel the tears flowing haphazardly down his face, and his voice was shaky as he answered. "Fucking Evan. He was sleeping with Evan, Ohm." The sudden use of his nickname surprised Ryan, but not as much as Luke's infidelity. Out of all the people in the world, he never thought Luke and Evan would agree to something like this. It was a slap in the face to him, he could only imagine how Jonathan felt. This explained Luke's absence in calls. He could hear Jonathan sniffling, and it hurt him that he couldn't hug his poor friend. He hated it when any of his friends were upset, and this situation was no exception. "...I'm so sorry, Jon. Listen, if you ever need to talk about it more, or just want someone to listen, you know I'm always down." Jon's hollow laugh filled Ryan's ears, and he shivered at the lack of warmth in it. But his words were emotional and thankful, so Ryan was okay with it. "I know...thanks, Ryan." --------------------------------------------- Three days. Three days and Jon hadn't heard from Luke. It was the longest they had gone without any type of communication. He was so tempted to ask Evan, but that thought quickly left his mind as his stomach dropped and he set down his groceries. He wanted to know that Luke was doing okay, that he wasn't overworking himself or doing dumb shit because of their breakup. But he was also reluctant to try and call him. A part of him wanted to run into Luke's arms and cry with him, hoping for a different ending, one that wouldn't leave him so broken. But another part of him didn't want anything to do with Luke at the moment. He wanted space and time to himself, to really tell himself this wasn't his fault. Ultimately, Jon chose to let things be. --------------------------------------------- A week. Before he knew it, a week had gone by and he still hadn't heard from Luke, from his ex. By this time, Jon was actually starting to get a little worried, and he instantly assumed the worst. What if Luke had locked himself up in a room and shut himself out from everyone? He shook that thought off though, instead opting for grabbing his phone and texting both Bryce and Ryan, asking if they had heard from Luke, or had any idea what he was up to. It was an instant reply from both boys, and one that disappointed Jon slightly. Both responses were a negative, and Jon had to stop himself from having a mini panic attack. It wasn't like Luke to just not talk to him, he would always try something. It wasn't like him to just never call or text again. And it definitely wasn't like Luke to abandon the rest of his friends over a relationship. Jon clenched the Xbox controller in his hands, the game on the screen doing nothing to distract him from his thoughts. He had died too many times to count already, and wasn't having any fun, it just kept reminding him of playing with Luke, and that was the last thing he wanted. So, with a huff and a quick grab for the remote, he thoughtlessly switched to cable tv and flipped through the channels randomly, stopping on the news to see what horrible shit had happened today, and what unlucky person had to deal with it. He listened haphazardly to the news that wasn't so new at all. It was all the same thing, all the same issues. Some burglary, some bomb threat, another Trump fuck up, nothing new. He listened to the people's voices as they described the recent news, and surprisingly, it was actually a bit calming, the lady's voice was gentle and sweet, as if she wasn't reading off a cue card and instead whispering into his ear. It was the one thing that was distracting him, and he appreciated it. He needed this. Jon was about to fall asleep when the news lady's words caught his ears, something familiar and alarming in them, and he instantly perked up, sitting straight, eyes on the screen. She spoke a little louder, looking directly into the camera "....10 people killed in a mass shooting at WalMart last week, news on the victims are now being publicly released." Something about this was off, something didn't sit well with Jonathan, and he felt like he needed to keep watching, keep listening as he learned more of the event. He paid attention for once, waiting for the names and pictures to show up on the screen. His stomach was twisting in knots, and his eyes held the reflection of crime tape and a mass amount of blood. He waited and waited, for what seemed like an eternity, before names were listed off, pictures of the victims accompanying them. ".....Paul Anderson" "....Amelia Crause...." ".....Leah Damon..." He listened and listened, his stomach getting tighter and tighter as the names came closer to number ten. His brain was telling him what he already knew, but his heart had refused to even acknowledge it. "...Corinne Gibson..." "...Ashley Hewitt..." "...Jordan Holmes..." He tried to steady his breath, but he found himself shaking, and when his phone rang, he ignored it, too invested in the victims of this crime, too scared to answer. "...Tara Moore...." "...Christopher Moore..." "...James Nicholson..." He was silently hoping, praying that that last picture and name wouldn't belong to someone he knew. The alphabetical order of the names wasn't helping him much, and the furrowing of brows and a small frown on the lady's face made everything seem slower, worse. He couldn't stand the anticipation, the lady pausing for a moment to read the last name. Jon held his hands together, throat dry and eyes glistening as a picture finally showed up with an accompanying name. A picture and a name that was all too familiar, all too heartbreaking. In the reflection of watery blue orbs, you could just barely make out a pair of sunglasses and a beard. "......and Luke Patterson. Since the murders, the suspect has been caught, Mr....." Jonathan stopped listening at that point, he stopped holding his hands together, his body was weak, he was frozen in place, waiting for the lady to say it was a joke, to say that everyone was fine. He waited for there to be a mistake, some sort of wishful thinking that he knew wasn't at all realistic. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, only cry, and as tears streamed down his face, he stared at the picture of his Luke on the screen. It was a picture he had taken, a selfie that had both men in it. He was smiling widely, arms around Jon in a warm, possessive embrace that had Jon feeling the ghosting touch of at that moment. He began to shake violently, and it wasn't long until he was throwing his remote at the screen, the small object hitting the giant flat screen with a small thud, landing on the carpeted floor with little sound. He brought his knees to his chest and watched as the tv powered down, due to a connection error, but he didn't care. He couldn't stand to look at the news anyways. Jon felt his entire world crashing down, everything burning and smoking before him, leaving him amongst ashes of a once happy life. Everything suddenly made sense. A week ago, Luke had been murdered. That's why he hadn't called. That's why he hadn't texted, hadn't had any type of contact. Everything suddenly became hard. Jon found himself unable to walk or function, and the only thing he could do was shake and cry as he came to the realization that Luke Patterson, Cartoonz, his only love, was no longer living. He was dead and gone, lost to a bullet, and Jon couldn't help but feel like it was his fault. Luke didn't take any of his guns when he left, nothing. Everything was still at Jon's house, including his concealed carry on, the one thing Luke always had with him. But, in the heat of the moment, he must've forgotten to take it with him. Jon sobbed out words of nonsense, his head hitting the back of the couch as he did so, tears wetting his blankets and clothes, but that didn't matter to him in the least. He let himself completely break down, cries ripping from his throat in a way that would break anyone's heart, and he found himself longing for Luke's hugs, the soft embrace that would always keep him sane. But now? He was completely crazy, crazy with anger and lies, sadness and despair, far worse than Luke's initial betrayal. Luke had cheated on him, yes, but Jon didn't wish death on the man, he couldn't possibly live without the bearded man in his life. *Now he had to. When the night has come And the land is dark And the moon is the only light we'll see* Jonathan felt his heart break a little bit more, and his sanity fade further. How dare the world do this to him. How dare his phone ring, tone that of his song that instantly brought thoughts of his dead one. He couldn't pick it up, couldn't bring himself to answer the damn thing. He just stayed on the couch, with his knees to his chest, rocking and crying as the song played and played, the person calling not willing to give up. He stayed like that, his blankets covering his form, letting the song make its way into his ears, drowning him in memories and an overwhelming emotional pain that he hoped he'd never experience. Once upon a time, that song used to be his savior Now, it was nothing but his torturer.

#delitoonz #prompt #my writing #angst #cheating #vantoonz #part one #v sad #stand by me #song fic #kinda #sorta #forgive me #sadness #all around

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