#and now I’ll be the same age as luke was in the first book

[brutal-out-here]

Thinking about how I found Percy Jackson when I 9 and how I’ll be 19 when I get to see it finally come to life….

[ahonice]

not my boyfriend

luke hughes x fem reader

word count: 9.6k (the google doc was forty pages long idk what happened i got carried away)

warnings: jokes about dying/being killed, drinking, mentions of harassment (none actually happens though, just a topic discussed.) cursing, party games, lots of fighting that could’ve been avoided, VERY unrealistic scenarios and timelines lol, reader is stubborn for no reason and pisses me off (sorry)

note: this takes place during luke’s first full season as a devil. also idk how season tickets work with the devils so... hope y’all enjoy, leave feedback and lmk what you think, love y’all babes <3!!!

+++

growing up in newark meant you were a devils fan by default. which wasn’t a bad thing, your father was a season ticket holder and often took you to games with him as you were the only one of your siblings who was still living at home.

you were the youngest of five, all others being boys, and the university you attended was only a five minute drive from your house so instead of moving into the dorms you continued to live at home. 

at each game you always wore unmarked jerseys, shirts, and hoodies. no number or last names on any of them, you weren’t a big enough fan to have a jersey that branded you so you stayed content with your blank ones. 

+++

it was the home opener for the devils and your father dragged you, along with all your brothers, out to attend the game with him. he managed to get tickets right behind the devils bench this year, you didn’t even want to know how much money he had to spend to get them. 

“dad isn’t this a bit much? the game is going to be the exact same if we were sitting in our normal seats, two levels above.” you asked him once everyone was situated and comfortable in their seats.

“oh shut up y/n, these seats are great and who knows maybe you’ll catch the eye of a cute hockey player and you can live out your trophy wife fantasies.” your brother, who was sitting two seats down from you, teased.

“shut up david.” you said reaching over your other brothers to hit him, which you did…three times.

“would you two cut it out, you’re attracting a crowd.” your father scolded.

he was right, not only were a few people sitting behind you watching, but so were a couple people on the bench in front of you.

you groaned in embarrassment and hid your face in your brother gavin’s shoulder. 

“kill me gav, kill me.” your voice was muffled.

“number forty three is staring pretty hard right now y/n.” gavin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

you shot your head up and made, brief, eye contact with a boy who looked around your age before he quickly looked away. another player, who looked just a little older than you, laughed at him before giving you a wink.

“i’m serious gavin, shoot me right here.” you said, pointing between your eyes. “like i’m a horse that just broke it’s leg.”

+++

after the game you went to dinner with your family before you parted ways. you had picked up your coworkers shift because he had a family emergency and wasn’t able to come in. during the summer between your senior year of high school and your freshman year of college you attended bartending school. you thought that working in the night life industry, especially as a young attractive woman, that you would be getting a lot of money in tips.

and you were correct.

your grandparents were covering your tuition, and since you were living at home there were no room and board charges, but you did have a car to pay for, books and school supplies, as well as an addiction to shopping that you had to support. so the job really was great.

it was a nice cocktail, lounge, styled bar. lots of business meetings took place, and overall upper class patrons were the ones who would visit. it wasn’t rare that local celebrities would stop by, or new yorkers wanting a lower tax on their tequila sunrise. so when a few people on the new jersey devils roster walked in, nobody was surprised. 

“y/n i’ll take bottle service for them tonight if you cover my side of the bar while i’m out? we can split their tip 70/30.” your coworker brian suggested after seeing them all make their way towards the private section, meaning they would not be ordering drinks themselves like all the other people in the establishment. 

“60/40, it’s a saturday night brian.” he rolled his eyes before agreeing, making his way over to the group as you began writing down tickets.

with brian gone you were now the only one behind the bar, it being a busy saturday night you didn’t really have any time to yourself. constantly getting new orders, or people confused why you needed their card to open a tab, you weren’t really planning on taking a break anytime soon. 

“what can i get you?” you asked whoever sat in the seat across from where you were currently fulfilling orders. you didn’t look up to properly acknowledge the customer, but you know they heard you because your question was quickly followed by a long “uhhhhh” before you placed the drinks you had been working on infront of their respective owners.

“while you uhhhh on that, i’m gonna go help customers that know what they want.” you didn’t really mean to be so rude, but you didn’t have time to provide good customer service.

“wait!” you had barely turned around before the customer stopped you. “i’m sorry, it’s just that i am not twenty one, so i don’t know what i can order here.”

“you’re not old enough to drink? how the hell did you get in? because if you used a fake i’m sorry but i’m gonna have to cut it.” you finally looked up from the glasses in front of you to see who exactly you were speaking with. he looked familiar, you couldn’t figure out where you knew him from. probably just a student you’ve seen around campus.

“no it’s nothing like that. i’m here with some of my teammates.” he nodded his head towards the private section where you could see brian making them drinks.

you looked back at his face again before the realization hit you.

“you were the player staring at me earlier.”

“you were the girl that slapped her brother in front of everyone earlier.”

you blushed at his recollection of you, he blushed at yours as well. 

“guilty.” you both said at the same time, causing some laughs to let out before the moment was interrupted by some people on the other side of the bar yelling that they wanted their drinks.

“i’ll be back in a little bit, sorry.” you apologized to the boy before turning to start making the drinks that the customers had ordered nearly five minutes ago, audibly groaning at the line that was forming all around the bar and the amount of people now entering.

+++

it ended up being nearly thirty minutes before the rush of orders you had gotten was cleared and you had time to go back to where that boy was sitting. you weren’t surprised that he was no longer there, but you were disappointed. 

you decided to take the rare break to your advantage and poured yourself a glass of apple juice, savoring the taste before you brought your attention towards the group in the back. brian must’ve really been working for those tips because you had never seen a group so entertained in your life. 

making eye contact with the boy, you smiled as he stood up from his seat, excusing himself from the group being met with a smirk from the guy he was sitting next to, who you recognized as the one who winked at you earlier.

“you know you guys are paying for bottle service, you don’t have to come up to the bar to order drinks. it’s kinda what it was made for.” you said once the boy had sat down in the seat he was in just an hour before.

“i know, but i don’t want the guys to make fun of me for ordering orange juice.”

“are you assuming that i wouldn’t make fun of you? because i would, and i will. i’m team apple juice.” you said, raising your glass filled with apple juice, into the air. 

“can’t drink on the job?” 

you laughed at how stupid of a question that was, just because you worked as a bartender doesn’t mean you have no decorum. “ couldn’t even if i wanted to, i’m nineteen.” 

“oh so you’re my age, well a year younger.” he smiled to himself. “i’m twenty.”

you nodded at his words, too busy closing out a tab to respond.

“how can you work here though? if you’re nineteen. don’t you have to be twenty one?” he asked.

“no, you need to be eighteen to serve alcohol in the states.” you responded, not even looking up.

“got it.” he trailed off, it quickly became awkward as you were too busy to give him the attention he was obviously looking for. “i’m luke by the way, don’t think i told you my name yet.”

“i’m y/n, but i’m pretty busy right now so maybe you could go back to your table. i don’t mean to be rude, but i can’t spend my whole shift talking to you and not working.” you told him, noticing the long line that was beginning to form again.

“oh yea of course, sorry. umm i’ll see you around.” luke said, getting up.

you didn’t respond and just walked over to the other side of the bar where the people who had been waiting the longest were.

luke sighed before walking back over to his group.

“what’s the matter lukey? couldn’t impress the hot girl by ordering an orange juice.”

“shut up jack.”

+++

it was only five days later that your father was bringing you along to another devils game and once again you got dressed in your unnamed jersey and a pair of leggings. you had work right after, having taken the closing shift tonight so you would be able to enjoy the game for at least an hour and a half before you would have to go.

“dad please tell me we aren’t in those seats again. you don’t need to be wasting your money like that, our usual seats are just fine.” you spoke as you followed your dad through the arena.

“sweetie, it is my money to spend and i wanted this. i never miss a home game, all of the money spent is being spent for good use.” you father responded, making his way down towards the glass. 

you had arrived after warm ups were finished so now you were just waiting for the game to actually start. playing a game on your phone, you were easily pulled into a trance and didn’t even realize that the players had made their way onto the ice until your father nudged you.

“y/n would you pay attention? the boy is looking at you again.” your head shot up at his words and you quickly made eye contact with the boy from last week, luke. 

he waved at you before turning around before you even had the chance to wave back.

“that was weird.” you said, not to anyone in particular, but you weren’t aware of your volume because that same guy that winked at you began laughing and pushed luke who was visibly blushing.

+++

“can i get an orange juice? on the rocks.” 

you turned around to see number forty three smiling at you, his hand behind his neck in an awkward stance.

“luke.”

“y/n.”

“is your group here today? we didn’t get any mentions of bottle service being needed tonight.”

“yeah, it was a last minute thing. i asked if we could come to this bar instead of the one we had planned on going to.”

“why? because the orange juice is that good?”

“without a doubt.” 

you laughed at his words before looking over at your coworker. 

“do you wanna do bottle service tonight? or should i?”

“i’ll do it. the general manager is here tonight and you know how she gets when it’s a group of men getting bottle service.” 

“got it, thank you brian.”

you looked back to see luke staring at you confused.

“why doesn’t she like men getting bottle service?”

“it’s not that, there have just been a few too many cases of us having to kick people out because of their behavior towards female bartenders.” 

“has that ever happened to you?” his voice suddenly angry, causing you to look at him funny.

“cool it casanova.” you laughed, ignoring his question because you have. that’s just what comes with a job in the night life industry though. “i have to get back to work, but i’ll see you around luke.” 

dejected, luke made his way to where his teammates were sitting.

“did you fuck up again?” 

“yes…? i honestly don’t know.”

+++

it had been two weeks since that night.

you hadn’t been able to make it to any of the devils games due to coming down with a bug, also causing you to miss school and work. it definitely wasn’t ideal considering it was nearly thanksgiving break, which meant it was nearly finals week. but you couldn’t complain, it was always nice to do nothing but binge watch investigation discovery and drink yellow gatorade all day.

“dad can i come with you to the game tonight? my fever is gone and i haven’t been sick in three days. i need to get out of the house badly.” you asked your father once he made it home from work.

“sure sweetie. i’m planning on leaving in half an hour, i want to make it to warm ups tonight.”  he replied, shuffling through the mail.

“got it dad, i’ll go get ready.”

+++

you quickly got ready for the game. deciding that you wouldn’t wear any makeup tonight, your eyelash extensions were enough to carry the rest of the face. tying your hair into a braid, you got dressed in an unmarked devils hoodie and leggings before throwing your shoes on.

“dad i’m ready if you wanna leave a little earlier.” you called out from upstairs, spraying your perfume on.

“sounds good hun, i’ll meet you in the car.” 

you were really excited for tonight's game, mainly because this was your first outing in civilization in nearly fourteen days, but a little part of you was excited to see luke again. 

a little part of you was afraid he had forgotten who you were, as you had only interacted a handful of times. 

a loud honk ripped you from your thoughts as you could hear your father yelling from outside.

“i’m about to leave without you y/n.”

+++

you sat in your seat playing on your phone as you anxiously waited for the game to start

“what’s got you so jittery?” your father asks, noticing your legs bouncing. “does it have anything to do with number forty three?”

your eyes widened at the second question that came from your father’s mouth.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you spoke defensively.

“well i thought i might ask because he has been staring at you since he got onto the ice.”

you had been so caught up in your thoughts that you missed warmups beginning, and looking up you met luke’s eyes.

you gave him a smile and a small wave, which he returned before number eighty six rammed into his shoulders and luke went back to what he was supposed to be doing.

+++

after the game you decided to tackle the large load of school work that had been piling up from your sick days.

you managed to spend a good three hours uninterrupted before your phone began ringing. you picked it up to see your general manager's contact shown on the screen. groaning you answered the call, hoping she wasn’t going to call you in because there is nothing worse than a friday night shift.

“hey y/n, i’m sorry to bother you but this boy is currently asking about you at the bar and i need to know if you know him or if i need to ban him from the property.” she spoke.

your eyes widened, a little scared because this wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve had creepy men asking about you on your nights off.

“what is his name?” you ask, you doubted it but there was a chance you did know him.

“luke hughes.” you heard him yell in the background.

“yes darlene, i know him. he is harmless, please let him leave the jail cell.” you joked, knowing for a fact she had him held captive in the office. 

“he wants your number.” she whispered.

“just give it to him, and seriously let him go. him and his teammates tip a lot.”

+++

from: *** *** ****

y/n?

from: *** *** ****

this is luke. 

from: *** *** ****

i’m a little nervous that your boss gave me a fake number just so i would leave her alone, so if you could respond that would be greatly appreciated.

to: *** *** ****

i’m sorry, but you’ve reached the rejection hotline. the person who gave you this number is not interested.

from: *** *** ****

lovely.

to: *** *** ****

i’m totally kidding.

to: *** *** ****

this is y/n lmao.

from: luke hughes

that is not funny.

+++

over the course of the weekend you and luke texted a lot. 

mainly just basic information. favorite food, tv shows, some random questions.

from: luke hughes

why do you wear blank jerseys?

from: luke hughes

and blank everything else? you never have a name or number on you at games.

to: luke hughes

that’s just not something i’m into.

to: luke hughes

there isn’t a hockey player i like enough to wear their name or number.

that wasn’t entirely true. 

while you were a devils fan by default, you were a hurricanes fan and sebastian aho enthusiast by choice. 

you had multiple jerseys and shirts with his name and number all over them, but the devils only played the hurricanes on home ice a limited time each season so you weren’t able to break out your collection all that often. 

luckily for you, the hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center in five weeks and that was one of the only things you were truly looking forward to these days, as sad as that sounds.

+++

“the boy who keeps asking for you is here.” brian said to you as he entered the office. 

“what do you mean keeps? darlene just told me about the one time.” you responded, turning your attention off of the roblox game you were playing and towards your coworker.

“because i’ve only ever gotten darlene involved once. he kept asking for your schedule that night and i nearly called the cops.do you know how scared i was? not for you of course, just of the amount of paperwork and witness reports i’d have to deal with. did i ever tell you about the time that one psycho came in here with a butter knife and threatened–” 

“brian focus.” 

“right sorry. he has come in asking for you at least ten times now. if you want me to kick him out i will, i’ve been working out.” brian finished his rant by flexing his muscles, that weren’t even there.

“you’re 5’7 brian. no amount of muscle will make up for that.” you started, picking your phone up. “i’ve got it don’t worry, but thanks.”

to: luke hughes

are you stalking me?

to: luke hughes

because i will get a restraining order against you.

to: luke hughes

i don’t care how attractive you are.

from: luke hughes

so you think i’m attractive?

to: luke hughes

is that seriously all you got from that??

to: luke hughes

STOP BOTHERING MY COWORKERS !!!

from: luke hughes

will do.

from: luke hughes

as long as you agree to go out with me this week.

to: luke hughes

fine.

to: luke hughes

but only because i would like to go one night without my coworkers asking if they need to place your image on the blacklisted board.

from: luke hughes

yeah totally “only because”…

+++

“so you expect me to believe that after the game tonight you are going out with luke hughes. the rookie player for the new jersey devils?” your father asks.

“yes dad.” you deadpanned.

you had told him of your plans for after the game tonight forty minutes ago and he does not believe you in the slightest.

“what did you take for your migraine earlier?” he asks, chuckling. “oh no, did you get into my medicine cabinet? i’m pretty sure i bought those painkillers back in ‘eighty-nine.” 

“you’re hilarious. now can we leave please? warm ups are already almost over.” you said, unamused, while your father was bent over laughing at his stupid joke. “i’m going without you.”

“like hell you are.” he said, snapping up right and marching over to the front door. “if you are telling me the truth i have to meet this boy and talk to him…to ask him if you’re blackmailing him into this.”

he added that last part once he was already outside, you groaned as you heard him laughing from inside the car.

+++

to: luke hughes

i will be waiting in the car park after the game whenever you get out.

to: luke hughes

also my dad wants to meet you.

to: luke hughes

he says it’s because he needs to make sure i’m safe, but really he just thinks i’m lying to him about your existence in my life.

+++

“sweetie when is he coming? it is late and i’ve got work in the morning.” your father asks, for what feels like the hundredth time.

“dad, i’ve already told you that you can leave. i don’t need you here.” you replied, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“what if he kidnaps you? or kills you? he’s got money, he could cover it up in an instant.” he snaps his fingers when he said instant to emphasize his point.

“i would never do that sir.” a different voice cut in.

both you and your fathers heads whip around and you’re met with the sight of luke, looking very good in his suit.

“holy shit y/n you weren’t lying to me.” your dad says, walking up to where luke was standing to shake his hand. “let me tell you kid, i thought my daughter had lost her mind.” 

“dad. please stop.” you stated, annoyed at his behavior, finding a spot to stand next to luke. 

“right. sorry sweetie.” he said before turning his attention back towards luke. “have her home no later than midnight.” 

“yes sir.” luke stated, before your dad turned around and walked towards his car.

“so where are we going?” you ask. “you’re dressed like we’re going to a five star restaurant and i’m dressed like we’re going to a drive thru.” you explained, pointing to the major differences in your attire.

“i’ll meet you halfway.”

+++

“is it too late to tell you that i prefer qdoba?” you told luke as he pulled into the parking lot of a chipotle.

“i think i should take you home.” luke joked, before running around the car to open your door for you, slightly tripping in the process. 

“i should warn you though, i get queso and guac on my burritos.” you told him, knowing that he would be paying.

“what? that’s like an extra seven dollars.” he complains, holding the front door open for you to walk in.

“should’ve taken me to qdoba, it’s free there.” 

+++

the night went very well.

you and luke talked about anything and everything. 

it was fifteen minutes to midnight when luke pulled up in front of your house to say goodbye.

noticing that the lights were on, luke asked if your father really stayed up to see if he had brought you home on time.

“i can guarantee he is currently in his recliner and snoring.” you told luke before you both started walking up the porch steps.

“well i had lots of fun tonight. you should really send me a text whenever you’re bored at work, i can always use my celebrity status to get in while being underage.” luke said once you had made it to the front door.

“your C-list celebrity status?” you started.

“-oh come on, i’m a b-list at least.” he cut in.

“don’t you have better things to do than sit at a bar and drink orange juice?” you finished your thought.

“honestly no. i don’t have any friends in jersey that aren’t my teammates.”

“well if you ever want to go to a party or hang out with me and my friends you always can, just text me if you’re ever bored at home.” 

you said your proper goodbyes and once you stepped into your house you saw your father asleep in his recliner.

to: luke hughes

*image*

i told you he would be asleep. he would never know if we actually stayed out past curfew.

from: luke hughes

did you catch him mid snore in that photo? that’s honestly a violation.

+++

from: luke hughes

i’m bored.

to: luke hughes

what am i supposed to do about that?

from: luke hughes

😑😑😑

to: luke hughes

I’M KIDDING

to: luke hughes

do you not have a game tonight? because i’m planning on attending a frat party tonight if you would like to tag along.

to: luke hughes

unless you are now above frat parties after finishing school.

from: luke hughes

i’d love to join you.

to: luke hughes

great! i was planning on getting there at 10:30. do you just want to drive to my house? my friends are taking me btw and we could always just double buckle.

from: luke hughes

yea sure. what should i wear?

to: luke hughes

oh nothing too fancy just a tuxedo.

to: luke hughes

bowtie included.

from: luke hughes

i hate you.

+++

“will you all please promise to be nice to him and be on your best behavior? i think i actually like this one and i don’t him to be scared away.” you warned your friends who were currently in your room pregaming.

“hey don’t look at me, i’ll be nice as hell to your new boy toy.” your best friend, trinity, spoke. you rolled your eyes at her before looking at the boys who crowded on your floor.

“cal, bass, and tyler.” you spoke firmly, attempting to intimidate them. “i swear to god if any of you make him uncomfortable, all of my images and videos from syllabus week are getting posted on the main.”

“sir yes sir!” the three shouted in unison, only causing your eyes to roll back further into your head.

“just please be welcoming. talk to him, get to know him, do not force him to play rage cage if he does not want to.” you emphasized that last point at kade.

“if he doesn’t willingly play rage cage he isn’t the one for you y/n.”

you were about to make a snarky comment but were cut off by your phone going off.

from: luke hughes

hey i’m outside. should i knock or wait out here?

to: luke hughes

just come inside, front door is unlocked. 

to: luke hughes

we’re upstairs in my room, just follow the sound of shitty music. my friend bass has aux tonight.

you could feel the nerves bubbling up in your stomach. you hadn’t informed the group that your luke was luke hughes, they were all devils fans and were in the know about things so they definitely know who he is.

“he is coming upstairs right now, y’all i’m serious, best behavior.”

the sound of a knock made all five heads turn towards the door.

“no fucking way-”

“shut it!” you cut cal off. “hey luke, come in. there are shooters on my desk if you want something to pregame with. trinity is sober tonight so you don’t have to worry about driving.”

luke makes his way over to your dresser and grabs three shooters before making his way towards the spot next to you.

“everybody this is luke, luke this is everybody.” you motioned your hands back and forth. “tyler, cal, trinity, and bass.” 

you pointed to your friends, who were looking at the two of you with shock and disbelief on their faces, as you named them.

“let’s go to the party, i wanna play rage cage.” 

+++

“is bass your real name or is it just a nickname?” 

after arriving at the party you and your group established where trinity would be all night everyone started asking luke questions, the majority of them were about hockey and the nhl before you texted the groupchat and told them to shut their fucking mouths about his career.

“nickname. my name is sebastian, but this one-” bass grabs onto your shoulders and pulls you in front of him. “-says there is only one sebastian in her life and i am, unfortunately, not him so she started calling me bass and everybody else just latched onto it.”

you glared at him before speaking. “i was being sarcastic when i told you that, and you came up with the fucking nickname.”

“yeah, it’s not y/n’s fault you share a name with the love of her life and future husband.” tyler said, giggling after you hit his stomach.

“okay let’s go play rage cage, y’all need to shut up.” you said making your way outside, trinity informed everyone that she would stay in her spot and to text her if it is urgent. “luke do you play rage cage?”

it was an important question. 

sure most people favor cup pong or even flip up as a party game, but rage cage was what you and your friends dominated at every function.

“i have never played it before. haven’t even heard of it.” luke shrugged. 

everyone’s movements paused for a second before hell froze over.

“WHAT?”

“you’ve never heard of it?”

“what fucking school did you go to?”

“y/n get him out of my face.”

you weren’t even sure who said what, but luke had a slightly scared look on his face. 

“they’re joking luke, let me teach you how to play.”

+++

“so your future husband's name is sebastian? should i even continue pursuing you?” luke asked, jokingly, once you two were left alone in the backyard, tyler had drank one too many bitch cups and needed to be nursed back to health.

“i am most definitely not marrying him. he is six years older than me, lives hundreds of miles away, and also knows nothing of my existence.” you informed luke before finishing your drink. “you should definitely continue to pursue me.”

+++

from: luke hughes

are you coming to the game tonight?

from: luke hughes

i have a proposition for you, if you are.

to: luke hughes

i’m listening

from: luke hughes

you wear my jersey tonight, and in return i win the game.

from: luke hughes

it’s a win-win situation

to: luke hughes

yea for you. i get nothing out of it.

to: luke hughes

also i do not own a jersey with anyone’s name on it, let alone yours.

to: luke hughes

and you are NOT buying me one. if i want a jersey i will pay for it myself…or my father will.

from: luke hughes

fine.

from: luke hughes

but when you become my girlfriend you have to wear my jersey, no matter what.

to: luke hughes

okay, if i become your girlfriend i will wear your jersey.

from: luke hughes

not if, when.

to: luke hughes

i’ll see you tonight weirdo.

+++

“your boyfriend is waving at you.” 

“david shut up he isn’t my boyfriend.” you responded to your brother, shoving him.

you waved back at luke before his smile dropped and he pointed towards the jersey david was wearing. how you didn’t see the name and number on the back before? you didn’t know.

“are you seriously wearing luke’s jersey right now?” you placed your head in your hands knowing the conversation that would come of this. “he asks me to wear it before every home game and i never do, and now my own brother is wearing his jersey and not me.”

“why won’t you wear his jersey?” your brother asks, finishing off his beer. “-and don’t give me that bullshit answer of you never wear anyone’s jersey. you wear aho’s.”

“that’s because sebastian aho is sebastian aho.” you deadpanned. “there has never been a player, besides aho, that i have liked enough to wear their number. i’m not a fan of anyone…besides aho.”

“yeah, but luke’s your boyfriend.”

“oh my god he isn’t my boyfriend, do you ever listen to me? idiot.”

+++

“so your brother wears my jersey, but you don’t?” 

the sound of luke’s voice drew your attention away from the tab you were closing out at work. “i knew you were gonna show up tonight. remind me again why i decided to give you my schedule?”

“because i’m awesome.” luke answered, taking a seat in front of you. “-but of course not awesome enough for you to wear my jersey.”

“are we still on that?” you asked, handing luke a pop. 

“yes we are.” he stated blankly. “seriously i don’t understand why you won’t just wear my jersey. you said you didn’t want to pay for one, and that i couldn’t pay for one. but now that i know your brother has one i would very much appreciate it if you would wear it, to at least one game.”

“i’ll think about it.”

+++

your answer was no. that was three weeks ago and you still had yet to wear a jersey with the number forty three on the back.

tonight you were excited. 

the carolina hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center tonight and you and your friends all got seats behind the canes bench. none of them were canes fans, but this one the one game a year that you had the opportunity to sit near sebastian aho and you would be damned if you missed out on that opportunity. 

from: luke hughes

you coming tonight?

to: luke hughes

yeah.

to: luke hughes

so are trinity, bass, tyler, and cal.

from: luke hughes

oh great, i haven’t seen them in a bit.

from: luke hughes

are you guys going out after the game? it’s a friday night.

to: luke hughes

yes we are. cal’s frat is hosting this sport night thing if you wanna come with.

to: luke hughes

just bring a jersey to change into after the game.

from: luke hughes

oh crap i don’t own any jerseys.

to: luke hughes

you’re hilarious bud.

to: luke hughes

but just so you know i’m not sitting in my usual spot tonight. my brothers are sitting with my dad tonight.

+++

“no fucking way.”

that was the first thing you heard as you got in bass’ car.

“what?” you asked, everyone looked at you in disbelief.

“you are wearing aho’s jersey.” tyler replied, speaking for everyone in the car. “and you’re dating luke hughes.”

“i am not dating luke, you guys know that.” you deadpanned, you were getting sick and tired of people mistaking you for luke’s girlfriend. almost as much as you were sick and tired of not being luke’s girlfriend. “-and you also know that i am a loyal sebastian aho supporter before anything else.” you added the end in a lighter tone of voice. 

“alright, but when luke gets upset with you tonight you cannot be angry when we tell you we told you so.”

the rest of the car ride only one thing, a question, was on your mind, would he really get upset with you?

+++

“oh my god!”

“how many times are you gonna say oh my god tonight y/n?” trinity asked.

she had a point. it was like the only thing that was coming out of your mouth.

“never.” you deadpanned. “sebastian aho is right in front of me. my future husband is right in front of me.” you got more giddy by the end of your statement.

“oh wow y/n, you’re blushing.” cal poked your side. “that’s pathetic.”

“lover boy, two o’clock. does not look happy.”

you looked over to your right and saw luke looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, but bass was right, he did not look happy.

+++

“GOAL!” you screamed, shooting up from your seat. “SUCK IT DEVILS!”

“alright calm down y/n.” tyler said, laughing at you.

“NO! sebastian aho just scored his second goal of the night, if he gets one more i’m gonna lose it.” you replied, sitting back down.

“oh god you haven’t lost it yet?”

+++

to: luke hughes

hey! sorry about the game, you played great :)

to: luke hughes

if you do want to come to the party we’ll be at this is the address.

to: luke hughes

12345 house street

to: luke hughes

i hope to see you there.

“so is your boyfriend coming tonight?” cal asked. 

“not my boyfriend.” you started. “and i don’t know. i just texted him the address for him to meet us there if he wants.”

“ok. real talk,” trinity started. “do you want him to be your boyfriend?” 

“i do-”

you were cut off by the screaming of your four friends.

“shut it.” you snapped, effectively shutting them up. “i do want him to be my boyfriend, but i have no idea if he wants me to be his girlfriend. i mean we’ve known each other for three months and he has talked about us dating in the past but he hasn’t asked me out yet and i don’t know if he ever will.” 

“y/n don’t be like that. i can tell by the way he looks at you and acts around you that he likes you, a lot, and also he looked jealous as hell when he saw whose jersey you were wearing tonight.” bass said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

“okay enough with the pity party, lets go to the party. i need a drink.” 

+++

from: luke hughes

not really in the mood for a party tonight. 

to: luke hughes

oh ok. 

to: luke hughes

well i’ll see you soon, yeah?

“luke isn’t coming tonight.” you told the group, an upset look rested on your face.

“oh…well it’s probably nothing. i wouldn’t want to go out and celebrate a loss.” trinity said, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“ok i seriously need a drink now.” 

+++

it has been over a week since the game and luke hasn’t spoken to you once. 

all texts have been left unanswered, he hasn’t come to visit you at work, and when you were at the game two days ago he didn’t look at you once.

you were working the closing shift tonight, and it was a monday so it was not very busy. in the past you would text luke and he would arrive as soon as he could, but you stopped attempting to communicate with luke two days ago, after the game. he made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

“y/n, someone is at the bar asking for you.” you looked up from the wall you were staring at in the office to see brian. “not the usual one though. did you and your boyfriend break up?” 

you had a little bit of hope that it was luke for just a moment, before brian told you it wasn’t him. “he’s not my boyfriend. never was.”

you stepped out of the back room to see the other hughes brother sitting at your bar.

“hello jack. what do i owe the pleasure?” you ask, planting yourself across from him.

“we need to talk about you and luke.” he replied curtly.

“there is no me and luke, he has made it very clear that he is no longer interested in being my friend anymore.” you said, pouring a drink for no one, you just needed something to do.

“that’s the thing. he does want to be your friend, more than that. this past week he has not shut up about you and how you guys weren’t talking anymore. what happened?” jack asked, grabbing the now finished drink and bringing it to his lips.

“i don’t even know. we were planning on going to this party at my friends frat together and then after your guys’ game against the hurricanes he flaked out and hasn’t spoken to me since. i’ve reached out and haven’t gotten anything back, i was at the game on saturday and he didn’t even look at me, so if he is upset that we aren’t talking then he is just upset with himself.” you took a moment to catch your breath before looking at jack.

“whose jersey did you wear to our game against the hurricanes?” 

“sebastian aho’s. why?”

jack let out a chuckle and shook his head. “makes sense. he was muttering stupid sebastian aho and fucking homewrecker the whole way home and bunkered himself in his room for days.” 

“i always refused to wear his jersey to games, or his anything, and now i’m realizing i probably pissed him off by wearing someone else’s name and number when i’ve been telling him the whole time i’ve known him that the reason i won’t wear his stuff is because i don’t wear anyones.” you told jack, pouring another drink.

“i wouldn’t say he is pissed off. he is definitely upset though.” jack starts, standing up. “i think you should come to our game this thursday-”

“i always go to your games.” you cut him off. “well come to our game this thursday wearing his jersey. i think that is all he wants…well that and you being his girlfriend.” jack finished, not giving you a chance to respond before walking out the front doors.

+++

“david please, just let me borrow your jersey for one night.” you begged your brother over the phone.

“no can do little sis. just go buy your own, i mean it might be beneficial to own your own luke hughes jersey when luke hughes is your boyfriend.”

“david i’m not even gonna say it, but seriously? where am i gonna find a jersey on such short notice?” “at literally any store in newark. walk down mainstreet and you’ll probably find five in the front window of shops.” david answers, the sarcastic tone in his voice pissing you off further.

“goodbye. i’m gonna go walk around looking for a jersey in the freezing cold now.”

+++

to: luke hughes

hey. i know we haven’t talked in a little bit but i spoke with your brother the other day. 

to: luke hughes

i’m going to the game tonight, if you would be willing to let me see you after i would really appreciate it.

to: luke hughes

i would like to talk to you.

+++

you weren’t able to find a jersey with luke’s number on it so you wore a blank jersey tonight, which kind of crushed your original plan for the evening, but you still had to try.

“are you sure sweetie? because i have no issue waiting until he shows up.” 

“yes dad, i’m sure. i’ll be fine, please go.” you assured your dad, pushing him towards his car.

it wasn’t until forty minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching you. you turned your head around and frowned at the sight of jack hughes walking your way.

“sorry i’m not the brother you wanted to see, but luke left as soon as he could and ubered back to our apartment.” 

you nodded in defeat. “thank you for telling me. i’ll just order myself an uber home then…tell luke i said good game and if he ever wants to talk he can message me.”

“why don’t you tell him yourself.”

+++

trinity would literally die if you told her whose car you were currently sitting shotgun in. 

“luke made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk to me, or even see me. i don’t think this is a good idea jack.”

jack had convinced you that the best thing to do in this situation was to confront luke directly. not as much convinced you, but rather offered you a ride home and said he had to make a stop on the way, that stop being his and luke’s place. 

“y/n luke is miserable not talking to you, and that is making me miserable.”

“well he wouldn’t be so miserable if he would just text me back, he is the one choosing to not speak to me. can we just get this over with? drive faster.”

+++

“luke’s room is down that hall, second door to the right.” jack informed you, you thanked him quietly before making your way to luke’s room. 

you knocked gently and got no response so you knocked again, a little harder.

“jack i’m not in the mood right now. go away.” 

you tried to speak up but nothing came out, so you just knocked again.

“jack i’m serious. this whole y/n situation is messing with my head, i played awful tonight and i just want to go to sleep.”

“well if it’s messing with you so much and making you as upset as jack says it is then maybe you should just text me back and we can figure out how to fix this.” you spoke, frustration clear in your tone. 

you didn’t give him the chance to respond before you made your way out of their apartment and towards the stairwell, ordering an uber as you ran down the steps.

once outside you saw that your uber was about five minutes away so you were forced to just stand there and wait. from: luke hughes

i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please come back up. 

to: luke hughes

no.

from: luke hughes

please. let's talk about this.

to: luke hughes

i’ve given you many chances in the past week for us to talk and you’ve ignored me each time.

to: luke hughes

it’s my turn to be upset now.

+++

that was two weeks ago and you haven’t seen or spoken to luke since.

you went to your mothers house is oregon for christmas and came back to new jersey today. 

the second you ended your gift exchange with your father you went up to your room and opened your texts with luke.

from: luke hughes

y/n i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please talk to me.

from: luke hughes

merry christmas, i got you a gift. i asked your coworker brian where you’ve been, he said it that you were spending christmas at your moms this year so i’ll give it to you when you get back.

from: luke hughes

please text me when you get back.

from: luke hughes

i need to see you.

you spent a few moments contemplating whether to send a text or to continue ignoring him, even if the later was driving you crazy.

before you could stop yourself you sent a message, and got one back immediately.

to: luke hughes

i’m back in newark.

from: luke hughes

on my way

you slightly panicked when you realized that after nearly a month of silence between the two of you, luke was now going to be in front of you and in your presence again. you didn’t know what you were going to say, worry filled you thinking about the many outcomes that could happen.

“sweetie, luke is at the door for you.”

you timidly stood up and took a deep breath or two before making your way downstairs. 

“hey luke, let’s go up to my room to talk.” 

luke nodded before stepping inside, giving your father a proper greeting before heading up the stairs.

“ok, so can you start off by telling me why you ghosted me for a full week?” you asked him once he had sat down on your hammock chair, you across from him on your bed.

“you wore someone else’s jersey.” luke started, letting out a deep breath afterwards. “after you told me for months that you never wear anyone’s jersey, so you wouldn’t wear mine.”

the sound of your friends yelling “i told you so” played in your head, but you pushed it aside to focus on what was happening in front of you.

luke was now in your closet, where he would find your many, many, aho items.

“luke please get out of my closet.” you were angry, he had no reason to be searching your things.

“how many things do you own of him. jesus.” luke said once he finally walked back into your bedroom. 

“luke i’m sorry that i lied to you about never wearing anyone else’s jersey, but is that seriously why you ignored me?” you were a little skeptical of his reasoning.

“why did you ignore me for multiple weeks?” luke ignored your question.

“because you were the one leaving me on read and skipping out on our plans, but then you went around telling people you were miserable not talking to me as if i was the one who failed to reach out and that made me angry. i gave you so many opportunities luke…and you didn’t take up any of them. so i got mad and i knew i was about to leave town for two weeks and i didn’t really wanna communicate with you during my vacation.”

“why did you lie to me?” luke asked, now taking a seat next to you on your bed.

“i honestly don’t know. i’ve only ever worn aho’s number, just feels weird wearing someone else’s. and i was being honest, other than aho, there has never been a player i like enough to wear their jersey until now.” you sat up from your spot and walked over to one of the gift boxes sitting on your floor, during your gift exchange with your dad you received a devils jersey with the number forty-three and hughes on the back as well as some shirts and hoodies with the same thing. “these were all gifted to me for christmas. i asked for them. i wanted to wear your jersey, i have for a while now, but i was just unsure of what it would mean. can you tell me why you got so angry?” you asked the question that had been on your mind for weeks.

“y/n i like you and i want you to be my girlfriend, i never asked you though because you wouldn’t even wear my fucking jersey no matter how much i begged you to so why would you say yes to being my girlfriend.”

“god luke again with the fucking jersey, i don’t get the big deal it’s just a piece of fabric.” you yelled, getting frustrated. 

“it means something! ok y/n, it means something.” he starts. “there is a difference between wearing a jersey as a fan and wearing a jersey as a girlfriend, something personal and intimate, and you won’t even wear my jersey as a fucking fan.”

it felt like you were talking in circles and it was driving you crazy. 

“that is what i’m saying luke. i didn’t ever wear your jersey because i didn’t know what it would mean. i didn’t know if we were friends or something more, and wearing your jersey could’ve given us both the wrong ideas.”

“what idea would it have given you?” luke asked, taking a step towards you.

“that i’m something more to you than a friend, and i didn’t want to think that because it isn’t true” you admitted the truth, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea, but rather yourself. “-and i don’t like to get my hopes up.” 

luke didn’t respond, he just sat there in silence for what felt like an hour, but was probably closer to three minutes.

“luke if you want to leave, just go. i’m sorry i ruined our friendship, i wish you the best in the rest of your career and life-” 

your words were cut off by lips touching yours, luke’s lips.

after a few moments you broke the kiss, not liking how fast it was progressing.

“luke what was that-”

“i like you, y/n. as more than a friend, that is why i wanted you to wear my jersey so badly. i wanted to feel special, because you have this rule about never wearing anybody’s jersey, but you wore mine and you wore mine because i mean something to you whether that be a friend or something more, i just wanted to feel like i meant something to you.” luke practically yelled, interrupting you.

“i feel like we are both making the same points, but just phrasing them differently each time.” you spoke, trying to choose your next words carefully. “what do we do now? how do we move past this?” 

“well, you could agree to go on a date with me and wear my jersey to the next home game. that would be a start.” luke offered, grabbing both of your hands. “-you could also let me kiss you again, i’d really like that.”

“deal.”

+++

“sweetie are you almost ready? we’re gonna miss warmups.”

“coming dad.” 

you quickly made your way downstairs, checking your appearance in the multiple mirrors you passed by on the way towards the car.

“wearing your boyfriend's jersey i see?” your father quipped once you got into the driver’s seat, he demanded you drive because you had just gotten a new car.

“not my boyfriend.” was all you said in response.

“still? that boy needs to grow a pair.”

from: luke hughes

are we still on for after the game? 

to: luke hughes

yup! meet me in the car park when you’re done?

from: luke hughes

👍

+++

after the game you parted ways with your father, him taking an uber home and leaving you with your car to drive you and luke around tonight. which isn’t traditional, especially for a first date, but you loved betty, your new car, and you wanted to drive her.

“wow the new car is dope y/n.” 

you turned around and saw jack and luke walking towards you, the older hughes speaking.

“-and nice jersey, next time wear an eighty six for me, yeah?” 

“never gonna happen jack.” luke started, before turning his attention to you. “you ready to go?” 

“yes i am, you can put your bag in the trunk.” i opened up the trunk with my keys before getting in the driver's seat. “where are we going?” 

“i’ll give you directions as you drive.” luke said, plugging his phone into the aux.

+++

a few minutes later you pulled into a qdoba. 

“wow you know me so well hughes.”

“i just didn’t feel like paying extra for your queso and guac.” luke deadpanned.

“yeah right, i know i’m turning you into a qdoba enjoyer.” you teased as you entered the restaurant.

after getting our food luke gave me an address of where to drive for our late night picnic. it was a lookout place that luke had found when he first moved here, you had been here multiple times as well and knew of a good place to sit.

“follow me” you hopped over the barbed wire fence and waited until luke made it over to start walking again.

“are you sure this is allowed?” luke whispered.

“i know for a fact that it is not, but it’s fine no one is here right now it’s after dark.” you said back at full volume, earning a loud shhhh from luke in the process.

you walked a little bit more before you made it to your favorite ledge, you could see all of newark from here and a little bit of new york, but when you looked up there was a perfect view of the stars.

“how did you find this place?” luke asked, digging into his food.

“i was hiding from the cops one night and me and tyler ended up here.” luke’s eyes widened at your story. “i’ll tell you more about that later, but ever since i’ve been coming here.” 

we continued to eat and talk about random things until it was time to go.

“we should probably go, it’s nearly midnight.” 

+++

once you finished the drive back to luke’s apartment you got out of the car to say your goodbyes.

“well i had a lot of fun tonight, we should do it-” luke cut you off by kissing you. “you have to stop doing that.” you teased.

“sorry, it’s just that you look really good in my jersey, like really good. i was struggling not to jump over the glass when i saw you during warmups.” luke admitted, going in for another kiss. “look y/n, i was wondering if you maybe wanted to be my girlfriend?” a blush crept up luke’s neck as he spoke.

“i would love that.” you replied, a blush spread across your cheeks.

we said our goodbyes and you drove home, not expecting your father to be awake on the couch.

“oh you’re awake?” you asked, taking your shoes off.

“yeah just wanted to make sure you were safe.” your dad replied. “how is your boyfriend?”

“he is great.” you replied smiling, not correcting him for once because now he really was your boyfriend.

+++

note: BOOOO HAPPINESS no but this literally took me a month to finish because i had absolutely no energy and no inspo to write anything. idk if i like this yet…but ANYWAYS hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback, have a great day, love y’all babes. 

[my-pjo-stuff]

HEY DID U KNOW THAT THERES GONNA BE A NEW TOTAN ARMY OC IN THE TV SHOW!!?!!!

her name is Alison and the description is

"she went to Camp Half-Blood in her youth, but now lives in the mortal world"

Also the casting call is for actresses 18-22yrs old so how old do you think she's gonna be in cannon? im think in late teenager in her first appearance

Also what are your thoughts on the TV show? i like it so far, and i think that it is taking a much more jaded approach. It's leaning more heavily on the "gods are awful" bit and i think it's gonna be different but still awesome

To be quite honest, I have mixed feelings about the show.

Ireally like what they did with Luke and the changes they made to thale confrontation at the end! That shot of Luke’s face with these watery eyes was GOLDEN. It's my personal favorite scene, really shows he isn't a total villain and actually VERY sympathetic.

I just love the Luke scenes in general.

But I disliked the changes they made with the pearls- mostly because personally I just found it unnecessary yk ?

Another thing I disliked (probably the main thing I disliked) is Percy missing the deadline. Mostly because I just think it makes Poseidon and the gods look to good????

Like, to me a core thing of PJO is how shitty the gods actually are. INCLUDING Poseidon (If you really think about it). I don't think him giving up for Percy was really in-character for him.

I do enjoy the conflict it could bring with Luke though, where Percy only gets to really see the good side of his godly parent and thus can’t really understand Luke and his group. Thus we can have a Percy who has that slow realization over the course of the show.

I’m not sure what to think of how the show did Hermes. That whole talk about him being unable to get to Luke because of his fate or whatever….eh. Personally to me that's just a load of bullcrap and excuses- I really hope the show reveals and treats it like that too and doesn't try to make Hermes innocent.

Because frankly said? Luke was comically easy to prevent had Hermes just not sucked SO MUCH.

Like yeah Poseidon advised him not to go but A)Poseidon broke his how much advice with Percy, so it’s canon that Hermes didn’t HAVE to stay away, and B) how could Hermes genuinely apologizing and showing care for Luke and May have POSSIBLY made it worse?

So yeah, pretty mixed bag for me. I like some, I dislike some- I’ll definitely watch S2 though!

As for Alison, I honestly assume she’ll be around the same age as Luke. Possibly as a love interest for him?

Personally I don’t really care much what she’s gonna be exactly, I’m just excited for more Titan Army content!

I’m hoping we’ll get more focus on them in the show, especially when we throw Alison into the mix. The books sadly had the TA quite underdeveloped, which I hope the show can fix.

But honestly? I’m happy if they keep up the Luke scenes to the same quality they were so far. Real 10/10.

[leonscape]

Visions of Love: The First Time We Met

A Trio of Sisters

It’s just as the famous saying goes, “Never judge a book by its cover.” But we still do it anyway because it’s the first thing we see.

Katherine fidgeted with her dress, trying to straighten her clothes out and make sure her appearance was perfect. She and her sisters, Adela and Elke, entered the palace.

“Do we have to go to this stuffy ball?” Elke, the youngest of the siblings asked.

“Yes. And you will be on your best behavior,” Adela, the eldest, said in an authoritative tone.

“You don’t have to talk to me like a child. It’s annoying.” Elke rolled her eyes.

They all entered the ballroom together. Adela walked off and found her fiancé. Katherine watched them from a distance and sighed to herself.

“You don’t have to torture yourself ya know,” Elke said.

“Don’t speak so improperly,” Katherine scold her.

“Ugh not you too. I’m 19 years old now,” Elke complained.

“Yeah? And I’m 23, so you should respect me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. But my point still stands. You should find someone else to marry. Maybe you’ll get lucky and get yourself a princely partner haha!”

Katherine knit her eyebrows in frustration. “Why? Is that what you plan on doing?”

“Maybe.” Elke shrugged. Her older sister gave her a judgmental look. “What? Some of the princes here are easy to snag.”

“Elke! You can’t just say things like that!”

“But it’s true. Everyone talks about how easy it is to charm Prince Jin.” A devious smile played at Elke’s lips.

“He’s easy to charm on purpose! Don’t fall victim to his disgusting schemes! Besides, he’s 32 already! He should be married and yet he’s content with being a bachelor. Doesn’t that scream red flags to you? He’s just a creepy old man.”

“Hey, you can’t just say things like that. That man is royalty,” Elke mocked her elder sister’s scolding from earlier. She smiled when she saw it had its desired effect. Katherine looked away and pouted like a spoiled child. “But seriously. Maybe marrying into the royal family is a good way to one up Adela. The whole family wouldn’t be able to touch you either.”

“Fine! I’ll do just that.” Katherine nodded.

“Well take your pick. We’ve got princes galore.”

“Are you kidding? There were only a few good choices!”

“But they all rank the same? I didn’t think birth order mattered in Rhodolite,” Elke said, trying to recall their ages.

“It’s not about birth order! I mean, would you want to end up with someone like Prince Yves? He’s not even here anyway, he’s too scared to show his face. He should just go back to where he came from,” Katherine huffed.

“Are you stupid? He was born here, idiot. That makes him from here,” Elke corrected.

“Well whatever. He’s half trash so I don’t care where he comes from.” Katherine crossed her arms.

“Hey, he’s still a prince, show some respect. And ya still got other choices. We don’t have a shortage of royals here.”

“King Chevalier would’ve been the best choice. The House Michel would’ve been a good family to marry into. Prince Clavis is out of the question; I feel bad for the poor woman who ends up marrying him.”

“Yeah but he’s hot.”

“And he’s a decade older than you. Anyway, I would’ve considered Prince Leon, but he has no problem being interested in another man’s woman.”

“Haha! I bet a lot of money on their relationship workin out. Who’d let a prince slip away? Girl was smart to ditch the little guy and climb the social ladder,” Elke laughed. “I already know what you’re gonna say about Prince Licht and Prince Nokto, so what about Prince Luke?”

“He was raised as a commoner, he probably doesn’t even know how to live in our world. And we’re just supposed to trust he actually is one of the previous king’s son? And you’re wrong, you don’t know what I was going to say. I think Prince Licht might be the best choice here. He’s calm and capable. He doesn’t speak much and he’s polite.”

“But he’s a twin,” Elke reminded.

“So? It’s just a superstition.”

“Meh Whatever you say.” Elke shrugged. “Prince Licht is standing there by himself so you should strike while the iron is hot. Good luck, I’ll be flirting with Prince Jin, so don’t call me if you need me.”

Elke gave her an innocent smile as she walked off. “As if he’d ever be interested in an immature teenager,” Katherine mumbled.

[emmafallsinlove]

Opinion on the Max/Lorelai fiasco?

the fact i've answered it in depth in the morning but tumblr didn't published it.... anyways. i just think it was very immature relationship on both sides. it was clear (at least to me) that lorelai never dated before and that max is intrigued by her but nothing else. like, i don't know it was very weird from the start like on episode 4 of s1 if iirc where rory is aren't allowed to do the test she study for a week so in the end of the episode he leaves a voicemail like "and rory, if your mom is listening" very very immature and even unprofessional. like it just didn't aged well but it's was a very wrong thing to do anywyas. and i just hate how max kind of forcing lorelai to be in a relationship with him in a way when she wants to break up with him and has intentions of bringing him back the book he gave her, max is like "rory would be fine" but lorelai was right. now rory, a 16 years old kid, is involved in whatever happen between them. i just think max didn't fully grasp the fact that he is walking into a family, assuming rory would be fine & okay no matter what, and that's the thing - boundaries were crossed because no one was matured enough to talk through stuff. max asking rory about her break up with dean, lorelai joking around max should let rory A+ on the test because her essay is so good (and i'm sure it was, it just wrong to do anything of the sort), max proposing to lorelai out of fear of losing her or being jealous or something i don't know, lorelai never lets him be part of their life because she's not ready yet, he yells at her telling her she's only cares about herself because she didn't gave him the keys to the house but honestly? she wasn't ready, she didn't wanted him there. she woke up her 16 years old daughter freaking out about having a man in the house, about their life might change completely and how nothing is gonna come back to the way it was it just. and they never talk anything through as well. where's max is gonna live? where's rory? is lorelai who brings up this questions in season 2 because they are a family and she is always gonna put rory first. that's why luke was the best match for her because he put rory first before anything else. he was rory's father before he was lorelai's boyfriend and later husband. lorelai saw how much luke loves rory that he is willingly going to drive up to yale and not let her quit school while max reaction would've been "rory would be okay" same as christopher's reactions at times. but lorelai never told her what's part he is gonna take in their life as well. when he pointed out it's past 23:00 and rory and dean are still out lorelai is like "well, you don't say anything to my daughter. she is my daughter." and you can't build a family like that, a relationship with this attitude. also the fact that max's parents were excited for him to get married but neither emily and richard or lorelai and rory never meet them? big red flag to me. it's not even "right person wrong time" because it isn't even that. like regarding to the plot of s2 with jess i think it could've been very interesting if max would've stayed around a few more episodes but i think it was good that he was gone when he did. lorelai wasn't ready and he wasn't ready and it showed.

Send me a ship and I’ll give you my brutally honest opinion on it

[lemonhemlock]

This is about the Aemond fathered Heleana’s children theory

I don’t hate or dislike the ship or anything so it’s not about the ship just the theory!

I just don’t think it’s possible that Aemond fathered the the twins because he would have been around 13 or 14 when the twins were born that was the time Aemond has his traumatic brothel experience, we see in the show that it’s still something he is very uncomfortable about. Plus I don’t think that young Aemond and Heleana would have been sneaking around to fuck and make babies not because Aemond can’t father bastards or be inlove with his sister but because it just wouldn’t match up with what’s was going on and how the trauma he has experience affects him. Aemond lost his eye three years ago at this point and experiences trauma with that lady at the brothel this year aswell and we’re not even sure the full extent of how that experience has affected him more than making him uncomfortable. He’s also trying to become better than his brother, he’s jealous of the what his brother has but he also doesn’t what to be him so he’s tries to become someone better than his brother to gain people approval. I just feel like with all of these factors it’s just possible for him to father the twins.

I just don’t think Aemond fathered the twins doesn’t mean he couldn’t have fathered maelor or be a father figure in the twins life or be Heleana’s lover (he doesn’t have to be the father of her children to be her lover). In end even if he was their father or not I think he would still see them as a part of himself they would be his kids even if he didn’t father them.

Sorry if I rambled a bit here I just wanted to get this out and the points are a mess I tried to make them organized but I probably didn’t expand on some of them so if you have questions about any of the points here I’ll sneak my way into your asks again 🏃

(Also about the age thing I’m pretty sure Heleana was 14 when she had the twins so Aemond would have been 13, this was the same year he experienced his traumatic encounter with that lady at the brothel. The ages in hotd are a bit of mess and it’s becomes hard to keep track of what age the characters were when certain events happened but I’m pretty sure about this)

anon you're so sweet god bless 😭

No, you're right about the ages, it's a whole mess. Either way, Helaena is supposed to have had three children by now judging the intro, where there are already three rivulets of blood flowing from her, it's just that they didn't show Maelor in the show.

Movie ages are very iffy, generally-speaking. I mean, I can't look at Ewan Mitchell and think "yeah, that's definitely supposed to be a teenager". And I very much doubt he's going to introduce himself in some scene and declare he is "six-and-ten years of age". 😭 Like Tommen first appeared as a 8-year-old or so, then three seasons later he was ready to fuck Margaery; I mean please be serious. 🙈 Whereas Jace & Luke definitely look like teenagers, even though Aemond & Jace are supposed to be the same age. But when you place Aemond & Luke together, it looks like a grown man having beef with a literal child. 😭

This is all to say that I don't really think we're supposed to be looking at this super closely and it's more of a suspension of disbelief thing.

Helaemond is a show only thing, it's not taken from the books. And, like it or not, even with the little scraps we got, Aemond & Helaena still have more interaction & development than Aegon & Helaena, who are a literal canon ship. 😫 I think the show-runners sowed the seeds for something here; it's not so definitive so as to be a point of no return, but there's something there if you look. If they choose to run with this in future seasons, they can, because they've established a baseline; if they don't, they simply won't mention it again and no damage done. Maybe when they filmed S1, they wanted to leave the possibility open: otherwise why make little Aemond say that line about marrying his sister, that was so unnecessary otherwise. 😂 He could have scolded Aegon without putting his own incest goggles on!

PS. Editing to add that the children look like they're about two? I'm not the best at guessing toddler's ages, but they don't look like 4 yos or older (?) So if, Helaena is supposed to be 17(?) after the last time jump, then she could have had the twins at 15 and Maelor at 16. Gosh, here I am, calculating appropriate ages for targest childbearing. 🤦‍♀️

[tsarinatorment]

For the OC Alphabet Soup, how about Y?

(Also I love you.)

OC Alphabet Soup: Send me a letter of the alphabet A-Z, and if I have an OC starting with that letter, I’ll tell about them.

Technically I only have one oc Y in my Apollo kids (although I have at least one other oc whose name starts with Y which I know you're well aware of!), but if this crops up again I'll cheat and talk about the canon kid I basically built from scratch because they have no canon beyond a first name and ethnicity.

Y is for… YVONNE CALVERT

like last time I did this game I’ve actually started drawing all of them, so all answers this time will be accompanied by actual Tsari-art of her own ocs.

Yvonne, like most of my OCs, is a fandom OC - specifically, she’s a demigod from Riordanverse.

Pronouns: She/Her Date of Birth: 6th May 1986 Parents: Apollo and Émilie Calvert (a librarian from Quebec City, Canada) Etymology: Yvonne - yew or archer. Calvert - tender of cattle from the Middle English calfhirde "calf herdsman". Years at CHB: 1998-2004 (Year-Round camper) Status: Left camp aged 18 Inherited Domains: Knowledge*, Archery, Healing

Yvonne left camp almost two years before the arrival of Percy, thereby missing most of the canon events. She arrived the same year as Lee and knew Michael and Will for a while; she was still in camp when Luke went on his bad quest but left at the end of that summer.

She's a quiet girl who always has her head in a book and can get irritable if pulled away from whatever world she's exploring. Fiction or non-fiction, it's all the same to her, although if pressed she has a slight preference for historical facts and fiction - but in the case of the latter, will tear apart any inaccuracies to anyone who doesn't escape fast enough. When not reading, she likes listening to her more musically-aligned siblings.

Like all of Apollo's children, Yvonne has a degree of healing ability. It isn't particularly impressive, but she's capable of triage and keeping people alive long enough for other help to arrive. She's also a capable archer and favours the longbow.

Her primarily inherited domain is one of the rarer ones, knowledge. She has a seemingly-unlimited capacity for new information and appears incapable of forgetting anything once she's learned it, especially when it comes to historic events and dates, which she has a particular preference for.

After leaving camp, she went on to study history at university and is now a respected lecturer and researcher of Greek history.

[wylansvanhendriks]

when the pjo show comes out, mind your business if you see me thirsting over luke’s actor

[absurdthirst]

Bacta Bonding {Mando x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Voyeurism, embarrassment, masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, enclosed spaces, sharing oxygen, misuse of the Force, telepathic communication, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, feelings

Comments: When you are injured coming back with Grogu to Mando, you are put in the Bacta tank. Only to discover something that will change everything between you and the Mandalorian. 

**Spoilers for The Book of Boba Fett Episode 7

A/N: No excuses, we just wanted Bacta tank sex!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Din winces as he limps through the palace, making his way to the bacta tank that Boba had offered for him to use. He had also offered it to you but Din imagines that you are finished by now. The battle is complete and Mando is reunited with Grogu...and with you. Luke had identified you were force sensitive when he came for Grogu and - after an emotional goodbye and unsaid things - you had left to go with Luke and Grogu to train as a jedi. 

Unsure of why you are both here, Din is anxious for answers but he needs to heal after getting thrown around by the rancor. You tried to save him but you got hurt, making Din rush to protect you and he made sure you were placed in the bacta tank first. He makes his way down the hall and enters the room with the tank then he freezes. You are still in the bacta tank...naked. Inhaling sharply, Din feels his cock twitch as his eyes trail along your body. He averts his eyes, feeling ashamed of himself for openly ogling you. Turning his head, he swallows and reaches down into his flight suit to adjust himself.

Your eyes are closed, the breathing apparatus in your mouth allowing you to be completely submerged in the healing liquids. Anyone would think that you are asleep, but through the Force you can sense that Din has come. You feel his aura, even if you cannot feel everything like you could with others, and you reach out to hit the button to drain the tank, opening your eyes and finding the Mandalorian with his hand on his crotch.

His eyes widen as the water drains and he sees you looking at him with his hand down his flight suit. “I- I- dank farrik” He groans, removing his hand and shaking his head as you shift to sit up. He averts his eyes and feels so guilty for seeing you in such a vulnerable state. “I’m so sorry, mesh’la. I- I’ll go.” He chokes and moves to turn away from you.

You pull the mouthpiece out. “Were you jerking off?” You demand, embarrassment and arousal pouring off the beskar covered man. You can’t hear his thoughts, not with the bucket on his head, the metal prevents that. But his body language screams his dilemma at you, especially the tented front of his flight suit.

He shakes his head, “no. No. I, uh, I was just…adjusting.” He is flushed a deep red and grateful you aren’t able to see that beneath the beskar. “I’m so sorry.” He swallows and feels mortified. He’s always been attracted to you, you are strong and smart. Fucking beautiful. It’s hard to not want you but he knows you don’t feel the same.

“I don’t believe you.” You swing your legs over the edge of the table, emboldened by the feeling that he might feel a fraction of the attraction that you do. “Show me.” You demand suddenly. “I want to see, since you have been ogling me while I was in the bacta tank.”

He balks at your demand, his cock twitching in his flight suit. “You- you want me to - to do that? In front of you?” He asks and you nod, standing up to show him your naked body. He knows this is wrong but he can’t help but be curious about what your reaction would be. “I- I don’t think that’s appropriate.” He bites his lip, gloved fingers twitching with the desire to touch you but he holds himself back.

“So it’s appropriate for you to memorize my body? Touch yourself while you are looking at me?” You ask, eyes trained on the dark ‘t’ of his visor and wishing you could see his eyes. “You can’t tell me you weren’t attracted to me.” You look down at the firm outline of his cock. “Unless this is just you when you're soft?”

He gulps, "I just- I just walked in here and - no. No, it wasn't appropriate." His answer is tinged with shame, "I shouldn't have stood there but...but I cannot tell you that I wasn't attracted to you. That you didn't make me hard."

“So show me.” You demand, stepping closer to him. “Maker knows seeing you always makes me dripping wet. Especially when you are fighting.” You confess, biting your lip. “I didn’t want to become a Jedi because I know that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your words make him choke and he can’t help but reach down and pull his hard, throbbing cock out. “I think about you too. All the time. I thought I was doing the best thing for you and the kid. I didn’t think - I never imagined you’d want me like I want you. Mesh’la. You’ve done this to me.” He groans, pulling his glove off so he can grip his cock.

You are fascinated by his hand, only ever seeing the side of his face. Not wanting to disrespect his creed because that moment was between him and Grogu. Taking in the short, rounded nails and the soft calluses that even the leather couldn't prevent. “Maker.” You whine, watching him wrap his hand around his cock and smear the precum over the tip.

He hisses at your whine, having imagined it far too many times when he was pumping his cock just like this. "Fuck mesh'la. I- I have wanted you for so - so fucking long - but I didn't want to ruin our friendship." He confesses and looks at your tits, wishing he could touch you as he twists his wrist.

You love the fact that he is talking to you, telling you everything you want to hear, always loving his voice when he does speak. Taking another step closer, you could reach out and touch him if you wanted, but instead you slowly sink to your knees in front of the armored warrior. “Let me suck your cock, Din.” You beg. “Please.”

The Mandalorian is already panting in anticipation. His dark eyes unknowingly fixed on you as you shuffle closer. "Please." He chokes and he holds his cock out, moaning when you tilt your head to wrap your lips around the leaking head of his hard length. "Fuck." He hisses, trying to not jerk his hips forward as you take him into your mouth.

You moan around him, reveling in the salty, musky taste of him. Man and sweat, not unpleasant on your tongue. Taking him deeper into your mouth to make sure you wet every inch of him you can before you pull back to look up at him. “Always wanted to do this while you were piloting the Crest.” You confess before you take him back into your mouth.

He hisses, "you - you should have, I wouldn't have complained." He moans when you hollow your cheeks and he loves it. "Maker. Such a good mouth." He groans, cupping your cheek with his bare hand, loving the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.

You moan around him and wrap your fingers around the base, starting to pump his cock while your head bobs, taking him deeper every time. You want to feel him cum, have him pour down your throat and feel him relax under your touch. Your other hand holds onto his hip, sliding under the padding so you can feel the lean curve of it,

Din feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You- fuck cyar'ika. You are incredible. Gonna make me - fuck, you're gonna make me cum." He hisses when you slide him down your throat and he pants, "oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit." He growls as his hips jerk forward, pushing his cock further down your throat as he cums.

Your entire body hums with pleasure when you feel the first spurts of his salty seed hit your tongue. Moaning in delight while you eagerly try to swallow down every drop as his cock continues to throb. Making you gulp it down so you don’t waste a drop of him.

He closes his eyes, the rim of his helmet resting against his beskar clad chest while he feels his cock twitch in your mouth. He can't believe how eager you are to swallow every drop and he wants to make you cum just as hard. "Fuck. Let me - I want to make you cum. Tell me how you want to cum." He orders, pulling his cock from your mouth and gripping your arms to pull you into his chest.

You bite your lip and look over at the tank. “Fuck me in the bacta tank.” You suggest. “You need to heal from your injuries and I will- I will keep my eyes closed. We can share the respirator.”

He groans at the thought, his muscles are sore and he needs to heal. "Yes." He says without hesitation and he guides you over to the bacta tank. "Do you want to - to ride me?" He asks and you nod. "Let me touch you before I fuck you, cyar'ika." He requests, taking off his other glove.

Nodding, you moan when you feel his hands on you. Strong and yet gentle, just like he is. His bare skin blazes a hot trail up your skin and you whimper when he cups your breasts, squeezing them in his palms until you are panting for more.

He loves how pliable you are, squeezing your breasts, before he slides his hand down your stomach to cup your mound. "Did sucking my cock get you this wet, mesh'la?" He asks with a chuckle and you nod. "You make me this wet, Din." You moan when his fingers slide between your folds. "I want you to cum on my fingers first." He orders.

Your legs shift open more on their own, sliding apart to give him better access. You had known he would be good with his fingers, nimble in his gloves and even better without them. “Din.” You moan, reaching up and holding onto his shoulders just above his pauldrons to stay steady. “Oh fuck.” You cry out when he pushes two fingers inside you and curls them up, his thumb pressing against your clit. “This-this isn’t the first t-time you’ve done this.”

He chuckles, “no it isn’t, mesh’la.” He works your tight cunt open with his digits, groaning at how wet you’re getting. Practically dripping into his palm as he scissors his fingers. “You’re so tight. Gonna feel so good around my cock.” He groans, always shifting to his filthy mind whenever it comes to you.

You whine, thinking about how good that cock will feel inside you. “Imagined this.” You admit with a small mewl. “Have you finger me in the cargo bay of the ship. Bend me over your cot. Sometimes I worried if you could read my thoughts, they were so loud.” You gasp when he hits your g-spot and your legs start to tremble. “Oh there! Right there.”

“More like it was me projecting onto you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Imagining what you’d feel like. How you’d sound.” He focuses on that one spot and curls his fingers a little more. “There? That gonna make you cum baby? Gonna soak my fingers?” He asks, wishing he could kiss along your throat.

“Fuck.” You never thought Din would talk dirty. Hell, you never expected him to talk much during intimate moments, he’s normally quiet. Expecting grunts and groans but this is even better. “Yes!” You gasp out, rocking your hips into his hand. “Make me cum, please. Din, make me cum.”

Your pleads have his cock hard and dripping onto the floor below as he works you up to your orgasm. “Cum for me, mesh’la. Cum on my fingers then I’ll make you cum on my cock.” He promises and it sends you over the edge. With a loud cry, you clamp down on his digits, soaking up, while you cling to him. “Good girl.” He murmurs, stroking your side with his free hand as he works you through your climax.

Din pulls his fingers out of you and reaches up to cup your face. You can smell yourself on him and he shuffles slightly. “I’m going to get undressed, Mesh’la.” He tells you. “When it’s time for my helmet, close your eyes.” You nod, willing to do whatever he wants in order to get your way.

The Mandalorian works on stripping off, removing the layer of beskar before working on removing the flight suit, and his underwear. “I’m going to lay down with my helmet on and take it off when you’re situated, okay?” He asks, standing before you wearing nothing but his helmet.

You reach out and caress one of the scars on his body, just alongside where the armor lays. “Din,” you sigh out breathlessly. “You are so handsome.” You murmur softly. “Strong, brave.” You look up into his visor and wish that you had seen his face the day you had left him. “I will not look, I promise.” You nod, giving him your word.

He trusts you, he knows you wouldn't violate him like that. Din shifts to lay down in the bacta tank, before he helps you up to straddle him. "Sink down on my cock and then I will take my helmet off and we can share the respirator." He says, caressing your hips as you hover over his cock.

You look down at his helmet while you reach between you, grasping his cock and holding him steady while you position yourself to sink down on him. Moaning quietly at the stretch, your eyes flutter closed at the overwhelming sensation of him filling you. Slowly lowering yourself until your ass is flush against his thighs and your clit grinds against the short hairs above his cock. “Maker.” You whimper.

He hisses when you clench around him, making him moan your name. When you are settled and comfortable, he reaches for the respirator and holds it up towards you. “Close your eyes, cyar’ika.” He orders, watching your eyelashes flutter, before he reaches up to remove his helmet.

You wish you could see him, but you care about him too much to violate his creed. Instead you lean down and your lips find his collarbone, kissing his skin gently. You have no clue if you’re allowed to kiss him so you settle for this, moaning softly when he twitches inside you and pulls the cover of the tank down over the two of you, enclosing you in the space.

You place the respirator in your mouth and Din holds his breath as the bacta fills the tank. You are laying on top of him, and he grabs your hips, helping you start to rock on his cock. You take a deep gulp of the oxygen and hold it in your lungs, pulling the respirator away to press your lips to his, pushing the air into his mouth.

Din groans into your mouth as the bacta starts to submerge you. Reaching for the respirator again, you feel for it as you start slowly grinding down on him. You’ve got at least an hour in the tank so you don’t want to rush this. It might be the only time you get to have him like this and you want to enjoy it.

He loves how you are slowly grinding on top of him. Not in a rush for this to be over. Din taps your hip when he needs more air, and you hold the oxygen before passing it to him. Your lips mold to his to kiss him before you fumble for the respirator once more. His cock twitches inside of you and he reaches up to cup your tits, his own eyes closed as the bacta begins to heal him.

There is a slow current building up in the bacta tank, aided by the way you are rocking. Taking a breath and then passing him the respirator, trusting him to press it back to your lips when he takes his next breath. Your muscles start to relax, healed by the liquid you are submerged in and making you feel like you could stay like this forever. 

"Fuck you feel so good, cyar'ika." His thought enters your mind, no longer obscured by the beskar. 

"You feel so good too." You respond back, sending your thoughts to him, and his cock twitches inside of you.

“You can hear me?” Din’s thoughts are full of wonder and you hum while you inhale another breath. 

“Without the beskar covering your body, I can feel you through the force. The helmet blocks your thoughts.” You tell him, reaching out blindly and feeling for his hair to caress it as it waves in the bacta.

He loves that, and his voice in your mind is different from his modulated voice. “You are incredible, mesh’la. So strong. So beautiful. Please. I need you to cum for me.” He groans in his mind, needing you to cum for what is hopefully the first of many times.

“I will.” You respond. “You're gonna make me cum just like this. Feel so perfect inside me. Just like I knew you would.” You rock down on him just a little bit harder, loving how his public hair grinds against your clit.

You pant as you transfer the oxygen again and he holds his face to yours, kissing you as he grabs your ass, pulling you even further down on his cock. “Cum.” He orders in his mind and groans into your mouth when your cunt clamps down on him.

You shudder and shake over him, the bacta making your movements slightly sluggish but you cry out into his mouth. Squeezing your eyes tight so you don’t accidentally open them in pleasure.

He loves it. Loves feeling you clamp down on his cock, and he wants you to do it again. "Air." He gasps in his mind and brings the respirator to your mouth so you can breathe oxygen into him. "Want you to cum again, mesh'la." He orders, thrusting up into you.

You lunge forward and press your lips to his, passing the air and letting your tongue slide against his. “So good.” Your mind impresses to him, walls still fluttering around his cock as he works you through your orgasm. “So good, Din.”

His hands slide up to cup your tits, squeezing them as you kiss him. "Mesh'la. I want you to cum again." He tells you telepathically, slides his hand down to rub your clit, pressing his thumb to the bundle of nerves.

You blow out a breath when you shove the respirator into your mouth, crying out in pleasure and rolling your hips against his hand. Another orgasm barreling over you so quickly after the last has you thrashing on top of him in the bacta.

He wraps his free arm around your waist, keeping you pressed against him. He continues rubbing your clit before he grabs the back of your neck, pressing your lips to his for the air. "Mesh'la. So fucking - fuck - so damn tight." He hisses mentally.

You shudder, whining his name through the force in such a way that you feel him grinning against your lips. You know you are wrecked, ruined for anyone but him. Your nails dig into his shoulders as your last little bit of control slips away and the secret that you’ve been trying to keep locked away from him flows between you while you fall apart on his cock. “I love you!” Your mind cries out.

He is grateful you can't see the shock on his face, but he knows you can feel it in your mind, through your connection. "I love you too, cyar'ika. I love you. So much." He groans, thrusting up into you as your confession makes his cock violently twitch inside of you. He's close. So close.

“Came back for you.” You confess, rambling now that you know that he feels the same way and your heart nearly bursting out of your chest. “Couldn’t be away from you. Hurt too much.”

He can't believe you're telling him this. He can't believe you came back with Grogu because you didn't want to be away from him. He missed you so much. You and the kid are his life. He is close as he thrusts up into you, and when you say, "cum for me. My brave Mandalorian." It sends him over the edge, burying his cock deep as he paints your walls.

You whimper, pressing your lips to his when you feel the hot spurts of his seed filling you. Making you clench down around him again as your cunt tries to greedily milk him for every drop. “Love you, love you.” His chant fills your mind and you collapse against him, still kissing him until your oxygen starved lungs forces you to pull away for a breath of air.

He takes the respirator, and inhales deeply, pressing his lips to yours to push the oxygen into your mouth. He brings your forehead to press against his in a traditional Keldabe kiss, and his hand caresses your back. "I love you cyar'ika." He sends to you, unable to believe he has you in his arms.

“I love you, Din.” You bask in the knowledge that no matter what happens, you had this moment with him. That couldn’t be taken away from you and smile. “How are you feeling now? You were beat up pretty good out there.”

He flushes, thinking about his run in with the rancor. The way he got thrown around like a stuffed loth cat toy. "I am doing much better. Especially with you in my arms. My ribs still hurt" He says honestly, taking another breath from you. "What about you?" He asks.

You nod. “I’m better.” You slide your hand down from his shoulder to his ribs, using the force and feeling his injury. Concentrating on it and pouring your powers into it, feeling the broken bone knitting back together faster than what the bacta would do. It was something you hadn’t been able to do before leaving with Luke and you are proud when you feel his body heal under your touch.

Din bites his lip to stop himself from gasping, lest he inhale the bacta, and he cannot believe you just healed him from the inside. "You are incredible, mesh'la." He gasps in his mind, in awe of how strong you have become under the Jedi's training. "Beautiful and strong and mine." He murmurs in his mind, reaching up to cup your cheek.

You take another breath and press your lips to his to share it. “Yours.” You promise. “My Mandalorian.” You caress his chest and smile against his lips. “I love you Din.” You tell him. “I trained to get stronger to be able to help you. I knew I had to come back. I wasn’t happy away from you.”

Din sees the memory of you and Luke, sitting in front of the beskar necklace Din had left for you along with the beskar vest for Grogu. He sees Luke sense too much of an attachment, and offers you the option of leaving. He sees you put the beskar necklace on, solidifying your decision to return to him. He presses his lips to yours, his heart swelling in his now healed chest.

In turn, you see Din’s time without you and Grogu. The quest to find the covert and the resulting feelings of alienation. The loneliness and sadness that he experienced, missing the two of you. You lean in and press your lips to his softly. “I will never leave you again.” You promise him. “You and Grogu, you are my family.”

He smiles against your lips, trying to not get bacta in his mouth or yours. "Aliit ori'shya tal'din." He sends to your mind, "family is more than blood." He adds to tell you what it means. "Never parted again. You and me and Grogu. Our family." He murmurs in his mind, cupping the back of your neck.

“Our family.” You project back to him, reaching out and pressing the button so the bacta can start draining out of the tank. You both will have to dry off and get dressed again, but you are certain that he means what he says. You will never be parted from him again.

Din inhales deeply once the bacta is drained, and you keep your eyes closed. He wishes he could tell you to open your eyes, but he has already broken his creed so many times. Reaching for the towel, he dries his face and places his helmet back on. “You can look now, mesh’la.” He announces, caressing your waist with his hands.

You open your eyes and smile at the shiny, silver helmet that is as familiar to you as anyone’s face. You pretend to interpret the tilts of his head with facial expressions underneath. He probably is very expressive due to never having to school his face. Although you lament not being able to send your thoughts to him, feeling the wall between you because of the beskar. “There’s my handsome Mandalorian.” You praise softly, reaching up and caressing his chest before you kiss right above his heart.

He smiles, knowing you can’t see it beneath the beskar. “How do you know I’m handsome? You’ve never seen my face.” He jokes softly, and you giggle. 

“I just know.” Your answer makes his heart thump under your palm, and he groans when you shift to get out of the tank.

Taking your own towel, you start to dry off, knowing that he is watching you. “We should get dressed and go see if Grogu is awake.” You tell him. “I know there was a queue for the bacta tank today.”

He nods, drying off and once you are. both dressed, he takes your hand to pull you closer. He presses his beskar clad forehead against yours. "I love you, mesh'la." He murmurs, "let's go get Grogu, and then we need to leave. I need...I need to restore my creed."

****

Sitting in the Astromech seat, you hold Grogu in your arms while the little green baby taps the small metal ball from the Razor crest on the transparisteel. “No.” You grin at the way that Din is denying Grogu, knowing it was all his fault for showing him in the first place. Grogu coos and hits the ball against the screen again. “I said no.” Din huffs and you grin. 

“This is your fault.” You tease. “You showed it to him. Showing off.”

Din sighs, knowing you aren't wrong. Grogu taps the beskar ball against the transparisteel in rapid succession, a little harder than before. Giggling at the way Din tilts his head when he says, "alright, but this is the last time." His words are followed by him pushing the button, sending the star fighter flying through space, and the child squeals in delight in your arms. Mandalore here you come.

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[seaweed-brain2-0]

Not only is it Percy Jackson's birthday today, it is also Percabeth's (12th??) Anniversary, so here are some of the best Percabeth moments in PJO and PJO alone. [The light blue is just me being me]

“You drool when you sleep.” (obviously)

“Me, go with you on the… the ‘Thrill Ride of Love’? How embarrassing is that? What if someone saw me?” (It was at this scene when I knew, these two would be my comfort couple in the future)

“I don’t know what my mom will do, I just know I’ll fight next to you.” “Why?” “Because you’re my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?”

Annabeth’s shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls—I told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched me and told me to shut up. (ah, young love)

PERCY CARRYING AROUND ANNABETHS PICTURE IN HIS NOTEBOOK TO REMIND HIMSELF THAT SHE WAS REAL no i’m not taking this one straight from the book, the paragraph is too long.

But whenever Annabeth talked about the time she spent with them, I kind of felt . . . I don’t know. Uncomfortable? No. That’s not the word. The word was jealous. (and it still took him four years to realize he was in love with her??)

She looked good. Really good. I probably would’ve been tongue-tied if I could’ve said anything except ‘reet, reet, reet’.

She tackled me with a hug, then pulled away just as quickly. “I’m glad you’re not a guinea pig.” “Me, too.” I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt. (nine year old me is SCREAMING)

“I’ll get us back to the ship,” I told her. “It’s okay. Just hang on.” Annabeth nodded to let me know she was better now, and then she murmured something I couldn’t hear because of the plugs in my ears. (THE INTIMACY)

The crowd cheered. Annabeth planted a kiss on my cheek. The roaring got a lot louder after that. (THEIR FIRST KISS DFGHJNBGVFDFGH why am I still fangirling over this, I've seen them kiss a billion times-)

“Um, who should I ask?” She punched me in the gut. “Me, Seaweed Brain.” “Oh. Oh, right.” (✨slow dance✨)

[Aphrodite] When she smiled at me, just for a moment she looked a little like Annabeth. (I repeat: AND IT STILL TOOK HIM FOUR YEARS TO REALIZE HE WAS IN LOVE WITH HER????)

“You didn’t believe I was dead?” “Never.” (I believe I was dead at this point)

“I, uh, was thinking we got interrupted at Westover Hall. And . . . I think I owe you a dance.” She smiled slowly. “All right, Seaweed Brain.” (✨slow dance✨ part two *more screaming*)

“Think positive. Tomorrow you’re off to camp! After orientation you’ve got your date—”

“It’s not a date!” I protested.”It’s just Annabeth, Mom. Jeez!”

“She’s coming all the way from camp to meet you.”

“Well, yeah.”

“You’re going to the movies.”

“Yeah."

“Just the two of you.”

“Mom!”

She held up her hands in surrender, but I could tell she was trying hard not to smile. (this whole scene deserved to be in here and you know it)

“Hey, it’s . . . it’s okay.” I patted her on the back. I was aware of everything in the room . I felt like I could read the tiniest print on any book on the shelves. Annabeth’s hair smelled like lemon soap. Behind me, somebody cleared his throat. It was one of Annabeth’s half-brothers, Malcolm. His face was bright red. I stepped away from Annabeth “We were just looking at maps,” I said stupidly. (imagine falling madly in love with Annabeth Chase and not knowing it until she kisses you, couldn't be me 😐)

Annabeth glared at me like she was going to punch me. And then she did something that surprised me even more. She kissed me. (*screaming intensifies*)

Annabeth and I pretty much skirted around each other. I was glad to be with her, but it also kind of hurt, and it hurt when I wasn’t with her, too. (I've just given up on screaming at Percy for not realizing his feelings sooner 😐🔫)

Annabeth wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m glad you’re not dead, Seaweed Brain.” “Thanks,” I said. “Me too.” (you know what I'm not glad about? Beckendorf's death 😃👍🏽)

We locked eyes. I thought of a different time last summer, under Mount St. Helen's, when Annabeth thought I was going to die and she kissed me. She cleared her throat and looked away. “Prophecy.” “Right. Prophecy.” (ahaha pain)

Malcolm grinned at me. “We’ll wait outside while you finish inspection.” The Athena campers filed out the door while Annabeth cleaned up her bunk. I shuffled uneasily and pretended to go through some more reports. Technically, even on inspection, it was against camp rules for two campers to be . . . like, alone in a cabin. That rule had come up a lot when Silena and Beckendorf started dating. Anyway, for some strange reason I was thinking about this as I watched Annabeth straighten up. (fOr sOmE rEaSoN)

“Hold on, Seaweed Brain.” It was Annabeth’s voice, much clearer now. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.” (*sobs*)

“I’ll go with Percy,” Annabeth said. “Then we’ll join you, or we’ll go wherever we’re needed.” Somebody in the back of the group said, “No detours you two.” (stop saving the world and go make out 🙄)

Before I could lose my courage, I said, “Don’t I get a kiss for luck? It’s kind of a tradition, right?” I figured she would punch me. Instead, she drew her knife and stared at the army marching toward us. “Come back alive, Seaweed Brain. Then we’ll see.” (AND COME BACK ALIVE, HE DID)

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” she muttered. “Your eyebrows get all scrunched together.”

“You are not going to die while I owe you a favor,” I said. “Why did you take that knife?”

“You would’ve done the same for me.” (HOLY F U C K)

I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. But this was Annabeth. If I couldn’t trust her, I couldn’t trust anyone. (goodnight.)

I glanced back. Annabeth was trying not to meet my eyes. Her face was pale. I flashed back to two years ago, when I’d thought she was going to take the pledge to Artemis and become a Hunter. I’d been on the edge of a panic attack, thinking that I’d lose her. Now, she looked pretty much the same way. I thought about the Three Fates, and the way I’d seen my life flash by. I could avoid all that. No aging, no death, no body in the grave. I could be a teenager forever, in top condition, powerful, and immortal, serving my father. I could have power and eternal life. Who could refuse that? Then I looked at Annabeth again. I thought about my friends from camp: Charles Beckendorf, Michael Yew, Silena Beauregard, so many other who were now dead. I thought about Ethan Nakamura and Luke. And I knew what I had to do. “No,” I said. “I’m honored and everything. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just . . . I’ve got a lot of life left to live. I’d hate to peak in my sophomore year.” The gods were glaring at me, but Annabeth had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were shining. And that kind of made up for it. (THIS WHOLE SCENE RUINED MY PERCEPTION OF MEN. THEY ARE, IN FACT, NOT AS PERFECT AS PERCY)

“I am never, ever going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.” When she kissed me, I had the feeling my brain was melting right through my body. (I'M MELTING)

We held hands right up to the moment they dumped us in the water. Afterward, I had the last laugh. I made an air bubble at the bottom of the lake. Our friends kept waiting for us to come up, but hey—when you’re the son of Poseidon, you don’t have to hurry. And it was pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time. (DFGHJHGFDFGHJNHGFDFGHJNBVCFGHJMNBVCFKIJUHYGT I DON'T THINK I WILL EVER RECOVER FROM THIS ITS TOO PERFECT GOODBYE FOREVER)

[percabethfeelsfandom]

Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 6: Age 18 

“California is pretty far away,” Percy says softly into the night as Annabeth lays on the rooftop by his side. He hears her shift so that she can look at him, and he mirrors her, looking at his reflection in her pale eyes. 

“2914.9 miles,” she answers. 

“You really had to choose the farthest college from me didn’t you?”

Annabeth snorts and shakes her head. 

“Yes Percy, I chose it purely because it’s the furthest from you in particular.” He pouts and pushes himself up on an elbow so he can look down at her. 

“Why are you leaving me?”

“I’m not just leaving you Perce, I’m leaving everyone else as well. My Dad, my brothers, Thals, Grover...not just you.” Her face shifts and he sees sadness replace her joking smirk. 

“Yeah but I’m special...I’m your favourite.” Percy is half-joking but he wishes with all his heart that the first part of his sentence is true, that he is in fact special to Annabeth. Special in the same way that Annabeth is special to him. 

“Don’t let Thals hear that,” Annabeth says, rolling her eyes but Percy leans in closer, poking her repeatedly until she’s laughing. 

“You’re only saying that because it’s true.”

“Shut up.” Percy notices how she doesn’t deny it and it brings a smile to his face. 

 “I’m going to miss you.” His heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze as his voice softens and his smile drops. Annabeth gives him a sad look and pokes his chest trying to get him to look at her properly. 

“Don’t get all sappy on me now Seaweed Brain, we’ve still got summer.”

“And then you leave and forget me, and find a cool Perry Johnson to be your new best friend.” He says and dramatically throws his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s about to faint. 

Annabeth groans and pushes him away so he falls back on the blanket they’ve laid out. The other two aren’t due to arrive for another hour, but Percy has been spending so much time at Annabeth’s house already, that it made no sense to go back to his last night, so he stayed over and helped set up the apartment rooftop for their sleepover under the stars. 

He thinks they’ve done a pretty good job for the two of them, there’s an array of pillows, blankets and sheets all over the floor, and plenty of snacks to last them through the night. A couple of years ago, way back when they were younger, Mr Chase set up fairy lights along the edge of the roof, so they’re not in complete darkness, not that New York can ever be truly dark. The lights illuminate Annabeth’s features as Percy turns his head to her, she looks like a goddess and Percy swallows deeply when she returns his stare. 

“What are you looking at?”

Percy shrugs and sits up so he can rearrange snacks that don’t need rearranging to hide his blush at being caught. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot! Can you sign this, you never did?” Annabeth says changing the subject and tugs on his arm so he can come back and sit with her. 

He looks at her confused until she brings out her yearbook. Their school emblem shines on the front cover, and she places it in his lap, pressing herself to his side, so she can flip the pages, looking for an empty space to write. On the back, there’s an entire blank page and she smooths the paper down and hands him a marker. 

“All yours.” She says and watches him expectantly. 

“Are you going to watch me write in it?” He twirls the pen uneasily and rubs the back of his neck, slightly uncomfortable under her intense gaze. 

Annabeth huffs. “Do you want me to leave?” 

“Can you?” He asks half-jokingly. 

“You’re such an idiot. Fine. I’ll go check if there’s anything we forgot downstairs. Do you want anything?” He grins as she shakes her head, pretending to be annoyed. 

“Anything blue.”

“Of course,” she mutters and gets up, using his shoulder to steady herself. He leans into the touch and tries to ignore the way his body misses her warmth when she leaves.  

When she leaves Percy flips back to the front, reliving their senior year, one page at a time. He skips past the photos of the people in his grade and goes straight to the events. It starts with homecoming, and there’s a photo of Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Thalia all dressed in black suits. Percy smiles fondly at the close-up photo of Thalia and Annabeth posing together, in matching suits and corsets. Since Thalia broke up with Luke, she’s reintegrated back into the group with no issue, and it’s like she never left. 

He turns the page, skipping through the other homecoming photos, and pauses at the one of him and Annabeth. It’s a candid, and even though he’s already seen it, his heart still stutters, because in the photo she’s fixing his hair in the photo right before the official photos like she always does, and Percy can’t help but think about how much they look like a couple. 

He keeps turning through the pages, trying to find more photos of their group. They’re not a very social group, preferring to hang out with each other than go to school events, but they’re at all the major ones. 

There are small snippets of them at the football games, student fairs and pep rallies, it’s not till the end where there are photos that focus more on students not part of clubs that he sees more pictures of his friends. 

There’s one of them all laying on their back enjoying the sun looking up at clouds the way they used to when they were kids (completely unaware that someone is taking photos of them). There’s even a photo of Grover with Thalia on his shoulder as she tries to climb a tree with toilet paper in her hand from prank day. The next one is a blurry photo of Percy completely wrapped in toilet paper and chasing Annabeth. 

Moments from their senior year have been captured and immortalised in these pages, and Percy’s heart heaves at the thought of leaving this all behind or watching people leave. 

Tears start to prick at his eyes as he reaches the graduation and prom photos. There’s a huge shot of his entire grade, a choice of a few students throwing their caps up. In the corner on the page before the prom photos, there's a small snapshot of the four of them, their arms thrown around each other, heads pressed together. He remembers this moment vividly. All of their names are relatively close together in the roll, so as soon as they were announced, he had bolted straight to Grover, who had bolted to Thalia, who had bolted to Annabeth, and they had all ended up screaming and jumping into each other's arms. 

He’s going to miss this. 

He finally comes to the prom photos, and he’s not surprised when his breath catches in his throat when he sees Annabeth in her prom dress again. It’s a deep blue, the colour of the sky above his head, and it makes his stomach flutter each time he sees it. In the photo, she’s posing with Thalia again, but she’s mid-laugh and Percy would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of his favourite photos of her. He has copies of photos from the night on his computer, but the ones taken at the venue are better quality, it’s almost like he’s back there in the moment. 

Thalia had come with a date, once again wearing a tight-fitting suit, a girl on her arm and Grover had brought Juniper, his girlfriend. Percy and Annabeth had agreed to go together, just because it was easier. 

“Platonically,” he remembers telling Grover. He remembers Grover laughing and shaking his head. 

“There is nothing platonic about you two but okay. Have fun, Perce.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Grover had never explained what he meant and it still haunted Percy. 

There isn’t a photo of the two of them at prom together, at least not in the yearbook, but he asked for a favour from a friend in the yearbook committee and has the photos that didn’t make it on a USB drive back home. His favourite is his wallpaper, and it’s of him and Annabeth dancing their heads bent close together. It’s not obvious it’s them two but he can recognise her blonde hair anywhere. That’s another moment he holds close, them dancing and swaying to a song they don’t recognise, whispering to each other in the night. He’d almost told her that night. Told her everything, about what he felt, about how he would always feel, but when she let go, he realised that he didn’t want to risk losing what they had. It was too precious to him. 

Percy finally reaches the page that Annabeth initially brought him to and he uncaps the pen, tapping the back of it against the page a couple of times trying to think of a message. It’s not an accident that he didn’t write in Annabeth’s yearbook. When they were all doing it, Percy had purposefully avoided her because he knew that what he had to say to her couldn’t be said like this. 

He sighs as he begins a doodle instead. A little owl because he knows that they’re her favourite, and a dolphin because they’re his. His mind is still blank at what to write to her, but he knows she’s not going to let him get away with not doing it this time. 

He hears footsteps coming up the staircase and he writes the first thing that comes to his mind. The only thing that never leaves his mind when he’s around Annabeth. It’s not a long message so he’s finishing it just as Annabeth sits back down. He slams the book shut and chucks it behind him so that she can’t immediately read it. She notices and raises an eyebrow. 

“Read it later. It’s embarrassing,” he says sheepishly. She laughs and hands him a bag of sour blue candy stripes. He tears open the package and starts eating as he hears other footsteps. Grover and Thalia appear in the doorway, holding pillows and even more bags of snacks. 

“Let’s get this party started!” Thalia exclaims and drops her stuff unceremoniously on top of Percy, burying him under the wright. Everyone laughs at him as he sputters his way out. 

Thalia plugs in some music and Annabeth helps pull Percy to his feet, and they start the feast of snacks. Grover helps Percy set up a projector for their movie and it’s nearing midnight when they finally settle on Disney’s Hercules. 

As always Grover falls asleep halfway through the movie, murmuring about how his tummy hurts in his sleep. They take group selfies with him, and Percy grabs the marker next to Annabeth’s yearbook so that he can draw on Grover’s face. He’s holding back giggles with Thalia as they pose next to him and Annabeth takes a photo of them. 

He pulls both girls close to him when he falls back and squeezes their shoulders. 

“I can’t believe my favourite girls are leaving me to deal with this idiot,” he says and nods to Grover who has started snoring. Thalia scoffs and pushes his face so that he lets go of her. He gives in but doesn’t take his arm off Annabeth, and he swears that Annabeth cuddles just a bit closer to him. 

“We’re not dying, Percy, we’re just moving to the West Coast,” Thalia says as she opens a can of coke and Percy briefly remembers how he first met Annabeth and how she had protected him from Nancy. He exchanges a look with her and sees that she’s already smiling at him, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. 

“Betrayal. That’s what this is,” he says and squeezes Annabeth’s shoulder again. She threads their hands together and Percy tries not to react and turn to her again. 

Thalia catches his eye and smirks at their interlocked hands. 

She stands up and brushes her pants. 

“I need to go pee, do you two need anything from downstairs?” 

They both shake their heads and she nods before carefully stepping over a sleeping Grover and leaves the two of them. 

Percy and Annabeth stay like that, leaning on each other, hands interlocked and Percy wishes he could freeze this exact moment. 

“Did you write something?” Annabeth asks softly as she pulls away from him, but doesn’t let go of his hand. Percy nods tightly and she smiles as she reaches across from him and grabs the yearbook from their makeshift table. She skips straight to the back and opens to his page. She gave him an entire page to write on, but there’s only one sentence in the middle and two small doodles. She stares at it for a moment, rereading it before she looks up. 

“You’re my number one,” Annabeth reads, holding the yearbook open at his page, “What does that mean?”

Percy swallows, suddenly terrified. There’s no time like now to tell her, and he has no real doubts about loving her, but with her unflinching gaze on him like this, it’s hard not to be nervous. He tries not to overthink and takes a deep breath, speaking the truth that he’s kept under wraps for years. 

“There’s only one meaning, Wise Girl, what else could it mean?” He says with a shrug and reaches for her hand. She lets him take it. “My Mom once said that people who have a big heart have a lot of love in them to share, but they’ll always have their number one, and that’s you. That’s been you for years, my entire life probably.”

He takes another breath and waits for Annabeth to respond. When she doesn’t he continues, suddenly full of words. “You’re the one for me. The only one that I could ever want. The one I put before everything. You’re my-”

“Do you mean that?” Her face is full of doubt and Percy brings their joined hands up so he can press his lips to the back of her hand. 

“Of course,” he breathes, and pulls her closer. He’s barely breathing when she puts the yearbook down for a moment. They stay frozen like that, pressed against each other, foreheads touching and breath mingling.  

“I think I was made for loving you,” he whispers and carefully pushes her hair back. 

The smile she gives him is one to rival the sun that is going to rise in a few hours. 

“If that’s so, then I was made for loving you just as much.”

She kisses him, and he almost forgets his name. He brings his hands up to cup face and bring her closer and she smiles against his lips and-

“Seriously? You two couldn’t wait until after I was asleep. Jeez.” 

Annabeth jerks away from him and they both stare at Thalia who is giving them a tired look from the rooftop doorway. Percy can’t help it and starts laughing, shortly after Annabeth joins and falls onto his chest, laughing too hard to keep herself up. Eventually, Thalia sits back down and bites her lip trying not to laugh, but the more she tries to keep it in the funnier it gets. 

By then all three of them are laughing so hard their stomach hurts and Grover stirs awake. 

“What’s going on?”

“This,” Annabeth says and proudly holds up her hand that is still firmly clasped in Percy’s hand. 

Grover blinks sleepily at it and shrugs like it’s not a big deal. 

“About freaking time,” he says and lays back down. 

Percy and Annabeth look at each other again and he smiles at her before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. 

“It was worth the wait.” 

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

[juniorgman187]

Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid. 

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail. 

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them. 

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match. 

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one. 

The newest addition to the list is her. 

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible. 

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him. 

A trillion. At least. 

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him. 

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening. 

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior. 

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book. 

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach. 

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him. 

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it. 

And probably because she just said it to me right now. 

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence. 

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity. 

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.” 

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels. 

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.” 

That surely kept us apart. 

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that. 

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work. 

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age. 

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.” 

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?” 

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me. 

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too. 

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me. 

What was going on? 

What is going on?

“What’s going on?” 

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before. 

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with. 

“What do you think about me dating again?” 

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue. 

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is. 

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch. 

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that? 

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted. 

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought. 

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish. 

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.” 

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.” 

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine. 

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?” 

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …” 

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag. 

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one. 

Red. 

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice. 

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect. 

_ _ _ 

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes. 

That story for later? This is the one. 

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do. 

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really. 

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates. 

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down. 

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word. 

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.” 

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered. 

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.” 

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise. 

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well. 

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand. 

If he kissed me.  

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here. 

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _ 

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe. 

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting. 

I don’t wanna seem the way I do 

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all. 

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way. 

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half. 

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress. 

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes. 

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner. 

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently. 

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance. 

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go. 

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that. 

But I’m confident when I’m with you 

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained. 

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it. 

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke. 

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable. 

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me. 

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again. 

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.” 

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said. 

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.” 

_ _ _ 

“In what way?” 

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer. 

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated. 

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet. 

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.” 

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him. 

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?” 

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock. 

“You think I’m perfect?” 

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.” 

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed. 

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.” 

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was. 

“How am I wrong?” 

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same. 

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?” 

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.” 

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own. 

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger. 

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice. 

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine. 

_ _ _ 

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission. 

I was the first. 

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him. 

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t. 

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line. 

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face. 

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.” 

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!” 

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand. 

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day. 

_ _ _ 

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter. 

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility. 

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg. 

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things. 

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?” 

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.” 

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me. 

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite. 

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else. 

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered. 

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite. 

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[hamliet]

What Does It Mean to Save?

I keep seeing it said that Deku, Ochaco, and Shouto will “save” Shigaraki, Himiko, and Dabi, but that there will be no redemption and/or no survival for them. I’m truly not trying to vague these posts and everyone is entitled to their opinion, but literary criticism is fundamentally responsive so I’m writing this anyways.

I personally think that’s not BNHA’s definition of saving nor of redemption. So here, have a deep dive into literary tropes related to redemption, genre, and character arcs as they pertain to BNHA and the question of: what does it mean to save Shigaraki, Touya, and Himiko?

Before we begin, let me say that while we might be personally uncomfortable with redemption (there’s a redemption arc in BNHA I am personally quite uncomfortable with), that doesn’t inherently mean the narrative won’t go there. The key principle I’m operating on here is BNHA’s message that heroes save people. It’s held up as the highest ideal. 

So let’s talk redemption in BNHA-verse. With this guy, whose redemption arc I dislike in principle but accept as part of the story so don’t come for me stans and/or antis. I’m analyzing because it shows us what redemption means in BNHA-verse, whether or not that is satisfying to you personally as it fits/does not fit with your own morality/philosophy.

If Endeavor can be redeemed and live, and he’s Bakugou’s negative foil, I highly doubt Shigaraki and Deku as well as Touya and Shouto and Ochaco and Himiko will be any different. Why? Because Enji is an adult character. The others--well, Himiko’s age we don’t know, but we do know that Shigaraki and Dabi are technically adults. But does the story consider them adults?

(It doesn’t.)

Child-coded characters are generally more likely to survive a redemption, which I’ll explain more later. First I have to define what I mean by child-coding, because I DO NOT mean this in the way it’s often (mis)used in fandom wank. Child-coding is a real thing, but it is not done to infantilize and it has nothing to do with shipping.

Child coding frames the character as a child for a few narrative purposes to convey a story’s theme or purpose. For example, if it’s a coming of age story coding a character as a child even if they legally are not emphasizes their journey to an understanding of self-actualization, or a true understanding of self with self-awareness and an understanding of self-value. An example of an adult coded as a child is The Kite Runner, wherein Amir is a legal adult for half the story, even married for fifteen years so we’re talking 30s-40s, but he does not truly become an adult until he returns to his homeland and takes responsibility for a childhood sin. In Attack on Titan, the main characters are now nineteen, but are still struggling to take responsibility as adults and have only started doing so now that their mentors/parental figures have started dying.

Along those lines, in any kind of story, you can code a character as a child of someone, regardless of biological relationship, to convey the type of relationship they have (usually a mentor one). For an example of this, see Bungo Stray Dogs’ Dazai and Akutagawa. Despite their two year age difference, Dazai recruited him to the mafia, abandoned him, and Akutagawa desperately seeks his approval. Usually in these stories a character will “overcome” their parental figure. This can be done through overcoming their need for the parental figure’s approval in stories where the parental figure is kindly (such as in Harry Potter, when in the final book Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave the Weasleys to find the Horcruxes despite Mrs. Weasley’s please) or through like, killing/stopping/leaving the parental figure when they are abusive (see fairy tales like Rapunzel and Cinderella). The parental link to self-actualization is because it is childlike (and a part of actual psychology that is reflected in literature) to see yourself as a part of your parent; self-actualized person would see yourself as a distinct person from your parent, but also acknowledge the ways in which they’ve shaped you.

So, how do you code a character as a child? BNHA isn’t subtle about it, because Horikoshi seldom is subtle about anything. The villain trio are all coded as children.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Who cannot achieve self-actualization so long as AFO has access to his body, as he’s literally trying to possess him. He’s trying, but it’s not gonna work because Shigaraki can’t keep AFO and become an adult at the same time. It’s a choice the narrative is setting up: your dream of destroying, or your freedom? (To get the latter, he’ll probably have to destroy AFO).

Todoroki Touya, who is repeatedly emphasized as a small child when compared to his siblings, and yes, I know he’s now tall. Specifically he’s spotlighted as the child of Endeavor:

And he’s the least self-actualized one in a lot of ways, contradicting himself constantly. I’m not Endeavor, DUH! But these are Endeavor’s flames! He’s gonna have to choose one or the other, because the tragic irony is that the more he takes out his rage on those around him, the more like Endeavor he becomes.

And Toga Himiko (who might well literally be a legal child), who is actually the most self-actualized one thus far, because she rejects Curious’s child insistence (Curious holds her in a Pieta pose, based on Michelangelo’s statue wherein Mary holds a deceased Christ):

She’s still got, like, a way to go though:

Because Himiko also wants to be like the people she loves to the point where she loses her own identity in them, which is er, not self-actualization. So she’ll have to choose whether or not she really wants to be like the people she loves or whether she wants to live her own way, which she herself tells us how that would end (death):

Deku said it himself: it’s good to focus on what someone is doing now. And look, I have issues with this statement and how it’s framed. I’ve talked about it at length and it was doomed to fail because Shouto himself told us long ago that it was annoying to hear a righteous speech by a stranger when you hadn’t gone through the same, plus Endeavor kinda failed by choosing being a hero over a dad here. But, the principle is that if the past doesn’t preclude Endeavor from seeking a better self, why would it preclude three characters coded as children, one of whom is literally somewhat the product of Endeavor’s sins? BNHA doesn’t think the past keeps someone from a better future. 

So what about Dabi’s counterpoint, which is indeed valid? Well, redemption doesn’t mean the past forgets, either. It’s complicated and nuanced, and we can debate how well Horikoshi strikes this nuance (it’s got its flaws), and admittedly I don’t know how this will go down in the future. But it is asking Endeavor: how do you redeem yourself to the people you’ve hurt? And we have Endeavor asking this question to Touya’s shrine. I mean, the foreshadowing is obvious. Endeavor has to redeem himself by trying to save Touya. However, it will still probably come down to Shouto to save Touya.

For our three villains, it’s a little harder to predict... well, sort of. For Shigaraki it’s extremely obvious: he has to help take down AFO. Dabi probably has to do something to help his family (siblings probably), but it’s vague. Toga needs help and not condemnation, but presumably she’ll help Ochaco with something.

So, is this redemption? I’d define it as redemption in the eyes of the narrative. To address what makes a redemption is another essay unto itself, but if we bring in the oft-compared Star Wars example: did Darth Vader get a redemption? Did Ben Solo? Everyone says yes to both. However, only Luke witnesses Vader’s redemption, and only Rey Ben Solo’s. So the rest of the galaxy? Doesn’t think so. When I say they’ll be redeemed, I’m defining it as their role in the eyes of the narrative, not whether or not society will accept them or even whether their victims will forgive them (of note, in canonical novels, Leia never forgave Darth Vader despite learning he was her father and obviously knowing Luke’s account of his redemption was true).

So, redemption in a narrative doesn’t mean all of society has to forgive and accept them. Dabi has still like, murdered 30 people--many of whom were thugs, but he himself acknowledges they didn’t deserve to die. Additionally, he himself also acknowledges that the families left behind--their feelings matter:

But why does that mean they have to die? Why even does it mean they have to languish in prison forever? (If there’s even a safe prison at the end of BNHA which I kinda have doubts about.) Heroes have also killed: see Hawks as Exhibit A. In fact, some people want revenge on the heroes precisely because they arrested or killed their loved ones (jail isn’t held up as a rehabilitative place in BNHA’s world. In most countries it isn’t in real life, either, but again that’s for another essay). So why don’t the League’s feelings on Twice’s death matter just as much as the feelings of unnamed and unseen (and thereby less important narratively) characters?

Additionally, regarding death... the villains routinely get called on their death wishes. Himiko’s determination to decide how/when she dies is called out because this is right  before Twice overcomes his trauma to save her, and the next arc they appear in is when Twice dies trying to save her again. Dabi’s suicide wish keeps him from getting close to others, and it keeps getting thwarted. Shigaraki’s obsession with destruction and death is clearly not a good thing, and his rejection of his family’s desire for them to join him in death this past arc is growth.

In other words: what Dabi said and what Snatch said about families and how they feel matter for the villains too. The villains are their own weird found family (Dabi as the deadbeat prodigal brother of both his families). Their deaths--Magne’s and Twice’s thus far, and I’m not ruling out further deaths in the future--affect the others. People’s feelings on losing loved ones matter. The villains are people, as Himiko said herself this arc:

Their feelings about each other matter:

How would Touya dying affect the Todorokis? At least they saved him spiritually, I guess, but that’s absolutely lame narratively, and if you have Enji eventually do a sacrifice to save Dabi (pretty likely, even if I personally think Enji will survive said sacrifice) then what’s the point of Dabi dying? How would Himiko dying affect society? As a martyr like Curious wanted her to be, even a redeemed one? A tragic warning story? What even is the point of Ochaco saving her if that’s the case? If Shigaraki dies, well, who would mourn besides Deku? How would Shigaraki dying affect the surviving members of the league? He just couldn’t be saved physically? 

It’s not impossible some of this happens, but it doesn’t seem like great writing, especially with panels like, oh, these that show us BNHA’s perspective on death:

Sacrificing something is a type of death that occurs in stories; this should happen in a redemption arc, which is why I’ve been saying Enji needs to sacrifice his hero reputation to help save Touya and even then it’ll still be Shouto imo who does the saving. But physical death?

If you want further analysis of the latter two panels and how they relate to the ending, see here.

We already have another villain who will definitely die redemptively (Kurogiri--an adult coded character--because he’s already, like, dead), and Spinner and Mr. Compress aren’t coded as kids so I hold them with anxiety towards the end. But again, this isn’t me being ageist or saying this is the way things ought to be in fiction or real life: it’s me looking at writing tropes and saying that child-coded characters tend to survive their redemptions. See: Zuko. Why? Because the death of children or child-coded characters is a tragedy. When a child-coded character dies redemptively it doesn’t feel like a happy ending and if framed as such, it’s often criticized for bad writing (see: Ben Solo). Curious even called this out in her fight with Himiko. I would hope Horikoshi doesn’t end the story being like yeah Curious was right that’s the best use of Himiko’s/Dabi’s/Shigaraki’s arcs:

Additionally, as for the believability of a character getting a new chance after so much destruction and murder... well, it’s kinda a thing in shonen and even in seinen? For better or for worse, it’s a thing. We have Vegeta in Dragon Ball Z and Kaneki Ken in Tokyo Ghoul (Kaneki, by the way, is absolutely an inspiration for Shigaraki). We can debate how well-written these redemptions are (I personally have been quite critical of Kaneki’s despite wanting it to happen narratively), but it can be done. BNHA’s Japan especially isn’t as harsh a world as Tokyo Ghoul’s Japan, so it would make even more sense for something like Kaneki’s ending.

The reality is that the cycle of revenge via hurting people and then leaving hurting families and loved ones has to stop somewhere. Someone has to be the bigger person and step up and be like “naw.” That’s heroic. That’s brave. That’s sacrificial itself. Justice itself doesn’t really exist in its purest form without mercy.

There’s another genre-reason I don’t see death or jail as likely (I could see, like, maybe a mental health ward like Rei’s? But it’s too soon to speculate).

If saving is considered a good thing for the story, if it’s truly the highest ideal, then saving someone should be rewarded by the narrative. The characters who save should have a positive result to show us this a good thing.

This is why it doesn’t work for the heroes’ end journey to be accepting that some people cannot be saved. The notion of just accepting that you cannot do something, you cannot save everyone, you cannot, cannot, cannot, is called out as a flaw of society. Determination, on the other hand, is rewarded.

We see it with Deku as well as with Mirio.

So, what if they save them and the redeemed characters then go on to sacrifice themselves in their redemption and die (come to the same end)? If saving changes absolutely nothing for the saved person, if it’s too late for the saved from themselves to change and/or do anything that matters besides die, then the narrative theme of saving as important is left unemphasized at best and undermined at worst. Simple intrinsic knowledge that the kids “did the right thing” doesn’t cut it for a story with so much focus on physical saving when the kids are already doing the right thing; moral struggles about whether to choose to be good aren’t really Deku, Ochaco, or Shouto’s arcs. It works for Aizawa’s arc with Kurogiri, but not for the kiddos. If BNHA was more of a philosophical/spiritual text, that would indeed make sense, but it is not. Genre-wise, BNHA is a fantastical superhero optimistic story, not a gritty real-world set drama.

[dameronology]

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

--

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

--

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned. 

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’ 

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

--

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

--

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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Flash From The Past ✩

Request: I have a request and I was asking if you cans do a ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader but she is older. Like in the 90s they were but then he died and she got older. But Julie had went through his journal or stuff and found a picture of them and he wrote a song like the Scene when he and Julie went to his parents house but the reader. I’m really bad at explaining things I just wanted to request an angst story please :) <3 Like a little of they’re romantic relationship and then show the aftermath of after he died and Julie kind a like confronts her with Luke like ep 8 <3

Warning: Angst, probably some grammar errors.

Word Count: 1,401

Song Used: “Somebody To You” By The Vamps

“Luke be careful your gonna hit the car in front!” I scolded him as were were entering the drive in movie parking lot. He dismissed me with a sway of his hand. “I’m an excellent driver love, no need to worry” He smiled at me before making an abrupt stop.

“LUKE!” I yelled at him. He just cheekily smiled at me and shrugged. “That’s his fault for going so slow then stopping not mine” I rolled my eyes. “Nothing ever your fault” I said. He looked at me after he finished parking. “You know it baby, I’m an angel” “Yea, yea, keep thinking that” I leaned forward and pecked his lips.

I stretched myself to the back seat to get the food and blankets we had brought and opened my door to get out of his truck. He also got out and slid the trunks small door down so we had space to lay down. We put the blankets and pillow where we wanted them and cuddled up to watch the movie.

After the movie was done I had my head on Luke’s shoulder, he rested his on top of mine. “I love you” I froze. That’s the first time he’s ever said that, I haven’t even said it yet. My eyes started to water and I lifted my head up to look at his eyes. “Yea?” I whispered. “Yea. I’m completely in love with you” he smiled at me. I leaned forward and kissed him like never before. The kiss lasted a few seconds before I pulled away. “I’m in love with you too” “Yea?” He whispered. “Yea.” I giggled and kissed him again.

“Shall we try this again?” Julie questioned from her keyboard looking towards the band. “Yes please. But remind us later there’s some Sunset Curve songs to show you.” Luke told Julie while standing up. Julie got intrigued and moved her mic to the side “Oh, show me now.” Luke nodded and went to reach for his song book next to him.

He looked at his notebook strangely. “Home is where my horse is?” He turned around “Reggie stop putting your country songs in my journal.” He side glanced at Reggie while throwing the paper out of his notebook into the guitar case. “That was a gift!” Reggie said offended. Luke rolled his eyes “thanks buddy.” He patted Reggie on the arm.

Luke turned back to Julie handing her his notebook. “I dog-eared the ones I think you would slay”. Julie started going through the pages until she reached a specific page that wasn’t dog- eared but caught her interest. “Somebody to you?” She questioned. Luke quickly got defensive. “That one isn’t dog- eared” he protested reaching for his notebook but Julie pulled it further away. “ “Look at me now I’m falling can’t even talk still stumbling” wow Luke I didn’t know you were such a romantic” she smirked at Luke. “That one is actually about-” Luke cut Alex off. “No one it’s about no one if you go to the next page there is one I think you’d like”. Julie dropped the subject since she saw Luke didn’t like talking about but she was still very interested.

Band practice couldn’t have gone worse Luke wasn’t focused after Julie mentioned the song. Y/N has been stuck in his head causing him to mess up. “Let’s take a break yea I’ll be back in an hour” Julie got up from her keyboard and walked out. “I’m out, gonna go hang with Willie” Alex disappeared. “Ima go see what Ray is up to” Reggie said and disappeared as well. Leaving Luke to entertain himself.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Where you married? Did you have kids? Did you move away? What happened after you found out he died? How did you cope with it?

Standing in front of the mirror making sure your outfit looked good you heard the house phone go off. You rushed downstairs and picked up the phone.

“Y/L/N Residence” you heard someone sniffle on the other side. “Y/N their gone” “Who’s gone?” you questioned. “Bobby talk to me! Who’s gone?” Panic started sinking in. “The boys they got food poisoning they’re dead Y/N” the phone fell from your hand and you dropped to your knees. You truly felt like you were dying. Tears where coming out of your eyes. The boys you have grown up with the love of your life was just taken away from you in a matter of hours. You were meant to see them preform tonight they weren’t supposed to go. Not yet. They were too young they had so much to live for.

It’s been two weeks you were invited to their funerals but you haven’t been able to leave your room yet. All you’ve done is cried until you fall asleep and repeat the same cycle everyday. Apart of you is missing and you don’t know if you’ll get through this. You’ve thrown everything that reminds you of them specially Luke in a box and told your mom to throw it away. (She didn’t throw it away) His shirts, guitar picks, hoodies, pictures, everything. You can’t bear it. It hurts a lot. Everything hurts. Your not gonna go to the funerals you can’t just stand there and get condolences from people who never really cared. You can’t pretend your ok.

“Julie you sure this is a good idea?” Luke questioned. They were on your doorstep. Julie had this great plan to give you a letter that she made Luke write for you. If you seemed stable enough she would tell you about her and the band. For now it was just the letter. The closure that you needed that you didn’t get back in 1995. Julie found you through your Instagram account apparently you became a photographer. One of her classmates is your son so he gave Julie the address. “I’m positive....um.. if it’s too much Luke you could go and I’ll tell you how it went.” Luke shook his head “no I’m good” Julie nodded. She reached forward and ringed the doorbell.

You answered the door and Luke’s breath hitched as soon as he saw you. He wanted to step forward and hug you and apologize for what he might have put you through but he can’t. You look almost the same just as beautiful but time has aged you. You and Julie started talking. She explained how she had found this song and a letter written at the bottom of the song page addressed to you. So she decided to bring it over. As you read the song you kept it together no tears. Luke is someone you thought about each day since the moment he passed.

It’s been 8 years since Luke passed away you are now 25 and have been traveling the world. Staying in Loz Feliz only made you sad you started your photograph career and have been traveling here and there. You haven’t meet anyone nearly as good as Luke so your still single. You don’t know if it’s guilt or if your the only one holding yourself back from dating again but you always put it off and say that you don’t have time for that. Will you ever go back to California? You don’t know.

After reading the letter you thanked Julie and she walked away you closed the door and slid down against it finally letting go of the tears you’ve been holding back. Things possibly couldn’t get worse, you thought you’d move on find someone who was just as great as Luke but you didn’t, you married someone you didn’t love and ended up getting a divorce. Having a kid and moving back with your mom in Loz Feliz. You weren’t happy. This letter didn’t make matters better your even sadder now it was like a flash from the past. Knowing that you could have had a future with Luke made your heart ache. He was your person, no one else.

On the other side of the door Luke stood there completely shocked that you didn’t react at all to his letter. Did you move on? Did you even care about him anymore? Was he only now a distant memory? What he didn’t know was that you were crying on the other side.

He disappeared back into the studio thinking about you. Maybe in a different life.

Sorry this request took so long I have been extremely busy because I had to get surgery but I finished it now. Hope you like it :)

@charliegillespiewife