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seaweed-brain2-0 · 3 years ago

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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)

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #happy birthday percy #pjo #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #rick riordan #riordanverse

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percabethfeelsfandom · 3 years ago

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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

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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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 · 4 years ago

Text

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.

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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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.’

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years ago

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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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sunsetcurvetaintedhotdog · 4 years ago

Text

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

#charlie gillespie #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #writing #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #fanfic #jatp imagine #luke x reader

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years ago

Text

Me and You

(Luke Patterson x Reader) (Julie and the Phantoms)

Word Count: 1.6K

~Master~

A/N: Alrighty! So this is my first time writing for JATP! I tried y’all, I did, let me know what you think and if I should write more at some point cause I’m curious now lmao.

This was mainly written for me, I’ll be honest.

@hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis YOUR MOVE...

***

The constant strumming of Luke’s guitar as he practiced kept pulling your attention away from the book in front of you, one you snagged from Julie’s bookshelf. You were almost done with it, but you preferred to read in silence, something you couldn’t do with Mr. Rockstar over there.

“Must you practice when I’m trying to read?” You groaned, tossing your head back on the couch you were laying across as you stared up at the ceiling.

Luke just laughed, strumming a chord on his guitar that he’d been trying out for ages now. “Must you read when I’m trying to practice?” You shot him a look but Luke only smirked at you, making you only slightly annoyed.

“You always do this.” You said, rolling off the couch and coming to lean over the piano. “Ever since we were young, it was always you playing when I read.” Luke could tell you weren’t mad at him or upset from the small smile on your face as you picked up the paper in front of him. “New song?”

Luke nodded, leaning on his elbow on the piano as he looked at you. Your eyes were reading the paper, slowly mouthing the words as your lips slowly curled up in a smile. Luke licked his lips, never looking away from you as he cleared his throat. “Wanna give it a go?”

You had to keep from laughing at Luke’s offer. “Thanks, but I’m good. I think I’ll leave the singing to Julie and you.” you started to walk away but Luke grabbed your hand before you could, giving you a dimply smile that you knew you couldn’t say no to.

“Come on, Y/N. I haven’t heard you play and sing in a while.” He pushed the sheet music towards you. “Just give it a go.” You took a deep breath, staring at him as he squeezed your hand. You hated playing in front of people, and Luke knew that, but he also knew you were comfortable with him. If you were going to sing in front of anyone, it would be him.

You sighed, nodding your head and smiling. Luke playfully cheered as you laughed. You grabbed the paper, sitting down in front of the piano as Luke sat next to you, holding his guitar so it wouldn’t hit you. “You sure about this?” you asked, seeing Luke roll his eyes. He took your hands and put them on the piano.

“Play.” He said, nudging you gently. Before you could doubt yourself, you started playing the first few notes of Stand Tall. Luke watched you play, a smile budding at his face as he listened. It had been so long since he heard you play, even longer since he heard you sing. He missed it.

Luke waited, hearing you play the intro again and again, but you never sang. Instead, you stopped playing, letting out a small sigh as your hands fell to your side. “I can’t.”

“It’s just us.” He whispered, grabbing your hand again. He brought your hands to the piano, placing his on top. Goosebumps tickled your skin as you turned your head, finding Luke closer than he was before. His eyes met yours as he pressed your fingers down, hearing the notes play as you both stayed looking at each other. When you didn’t start singing, Luke played the intro again, and again as he smiled at you. “It’s just me and you, you can do it.”

You nodded, finally looking away as you felt Luke’s hand remove themselves, but he didn’t scoot back. You took a deep breath. “Don’t blink, No I don’t want to miss it” you sang out beautifully as Luke’s heart soared, hearing your slight wobble before you found your confidence and your smile slowly grew on your face. “One thing and it’s back to the beginning, ‘cause everything is rushing in fast, keep going on, never look back,” Luke joined you in the next verse, helping you with the song as he played his guitar. Neither one of your smiles faded until the last notes rang out in the air, ending the song and leaving you both in a perfect silence.

Luke pushed himself off the piano bench you were sharing, spinning around before reaching forwards and grabbing your hands, pulling you up as well. “That was amazing. Y/N!” He cried out, wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you in the air. You laughed at his actions and threw your arms around his neck, one of your hands finding his hair when you buried your head into his shoulder. When Luke finally put you down, your bodies were pressed together and Luke’s hold on you didn’t loosen.

You were well aware of Luke’s hands holding you close and your own that threaded so neatly in his hair. His eyes met yours and your breath hitched. “Thank you.” you whispered, seeing Luke’s eyes flicker down briefly before locking on yours again.

“I knew you could do it.” He brought a hand up to cup your cheek. You knew that look in his eye. He leaned in, pulling your face closer as you let your eyes close and your lips hit. It took years and even dying for you to manage to kiss Luke, but it was worth it. He kissed you deeply, pouring every feeling he had into it as you did the same. When you pulled away, Luke’s hand stayed on your cheek, both of you never leaving each other’s embrace.

You furrowed your brows, biting your lip as Luke asked what was wrong. “You like me?” you asked.

Luke was confused. “Why is that a question?” He laughed and his smile never left his face.

You, however, had no clue what to say. “I just- I can’t believe-“ You stuttered, pulling your gaze away from him. “I never wanted to admit my feelings for you and you not return them.” You admitted. Luke moved your head so you were looking at him again. “I couldn’t handle that.”

“You didn’t think I like you?”

“Do you?” you laughed out, trying to hold in your insecurities.

Luke quickly caught on to how you were thinking, believing there was no way that he truly liked you. “Y/N, I’ve been in love you since we were 14 and you spilled your lunch all over me at my house.”

Your eyes went wide, heat moving up your cheeks as you closed your eyes tight, taking a moment before opening them again. “That’s when you realized you were in love with me?!” you cried out as Luke and you burst into laughs, yours out of embarrassment and his out of amusement.

You tried to hide your face, but Luke wouldn’t let you, moving your hands away from your face so he could see you again. “No, I wasn’t smart enough for that.” He said and you snorted, fully believing him. “I figured that out later, but it was when I started thinking of you as maybe more than a friend.”

You nodded your head, tangling your hands with his. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been in love with you about that time too.” You admitted as Luke let out a sigh of relief, leaning forward to meet your lips again, but before he could, you were interrupted.

“Woah.” Reggie said Alex and him popped into the room, standing on the other side of the piano as Luke and you subconsciously took a step apart.

“Oh, don’t stop on our account.” Alex said jokingly as he leaned forwards on the piano, making you both share embarrassed looks.

“We weren’t-“

“Yeah, we were just-“

Luke and you said at the same time, but neither of you had a real excuse. Instead, you just looked at him and shrugged.

“We’re dating.”

Alex and Reggie laughed at Luke and your perfectly timed proclamation. “Yeah, it’s about time.” Alex joked again as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, it only took what, 4, 5 years?” Reggie asked rhetorically as Luke forced a smile, tossing the pillows that were on the couch at them both as you laughed. They both caught the pillows, but only after it smacked them in the faces.

“Alright, alright!” Alex said loudly over everyone’s laughter. You quieted down, cheeks hurting from smiling so much. “Seriously guys, we’re happy for you both.”

“Yeah,” Reggie continued, nodding. “You guys are good for each other.” He admitted and you felt Luke’s arm swing over your shoulder and bring you into his side and kissing your temple. You giggled, wrapping your arms around Luke just in time for Julie to walk in and see.

“No way!” She shouted, glancing between you and Luke. You smiled at her, knowing she knew all about your crush on Luke for a while now. “You’re dating!” Her reaction made you laugh and you wish you were able to hug her, but since you were a ghost, it wasn’t possible. Instead, you settled for watching her being excited and feeling Luke’s chest rumble as you hugged him.

“I think Julie wins best reaction.” You whispered to Luke as he nodded, leaning down to peck your lips as Julie squealed louder.

“Okay!” You called over her, a small chuckle in your words as she quieted down but still remained giddy. “You guys have to practice!” you reminded them, seeing nods around the room as you moved away from Luke, holding his hand until you couldn’t reach him anymore and fell onto the couch.

Everyone moved to their instruments, but Luke, who still had his guitar on him from playing earlier, just watched you, seeing you and Julie exchange silent cheers before the singer was finally ready to practice. You picked up your book, beginning to read again as the band practiced. You kept sneaking glances up at Luke, who was definitely still looking at you. The music did make it difficult to focus on reading, but with your boyfriend preforming right in front of you, who would want to concentrate on reading anyway?

ALL TAGLISTS CLOSED!

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @nathaliabakes @colored-confetti @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @hollymac79 @emcchi @rauwz @chewymoustachio @smilexcaptainx @faith-quake @johnmurphyisqueer @kettnerjanea @teenagereadersciencenerd @ladykxxx08 @annasofiaearlobe @mytreec @ananad1 @agentnataliahofferson @the-unmanaged-mischief @wonderful-writer @theonly1outof-a-billion

#Luke Patterson x Reader #Luke Patterson Imagine #Luke Patterson #Luke Patterson oneshot #Luke Patterson fanfiction #Julie and the Phantoms #Jatp x reader #Jatp imagine #Jatp imagines #Julie and the Phantoms Imagine #Jatp

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tsarinatorment · 2 years ago

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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.

#hadronkaleidoscope #riordanverse oc #pjo oc #original character #yvonne calvert #child of apollo #percy jackson and the olympians #riordanverse #pjo #tsari's art

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travllingbunny · 3 years ago

Text

Thank you for the tag, @ryder616!

This tag game has unexpectedly led to an interesting discussion about what exactly an “Endgame Ship” means... which seems to be largely open to interpretation. I’m still not sure how I see that term, but for the purposes of this post, but to narrow it down and not mention way too many ships, I’ll take Endgame in two different meanings: for “Favorite Ship(s) That’s Endgame”, I’ll take it to mean pairings that were together and in a happy relationship at the end of the story. But for “Ship(s) You Wish Had Been Endgame”, I will take “Not Endgame” to mean that the ship was not treated as these characters’ main romance at the end of the show, or at least there was a lot of ambiguity and/or a rival ship for one or both characters was instead the current one at the end of the story. (A lot of my favorite ships have the tendency to end up unhappily in spite of being portrayed as the main romance of the story..)

Warning: this post contains spoilers for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Agents of SHIELD, The Hunger Games, The Leftovers, The Americans and The 100 (though if you’ve spent any time on my blog, you’ve certainly already been spoiled for the ending of The 100) and .

1. First Ship - When I was about 4 or 5, I was obsessed with Lady and the Tramp (I had a book version with a few pictures and it fell apart from how much I was reading it - it may have been my first book that wasn’t mostly a picture book), so I guess my first ship was two dogs (which is really appropriate, since I love dogs). If we’re talking TV, again going back to my childhood, before puberty and before I even knew what “shipping” was, I remember being pleasantly surprised when Raquel first appeared on Only Fools and Horses as a love interest for Del Boy - the show was an episodic comedy where the two brothers, in the early years, usually didn’t have a serious love interest. I thought “oh, he really is in love with her! And she feels the same, and they are so cute together.” I hoped she’d come back and wouldn’t just be a one episode character but a long-term LI. And then I was so happy when that very much did happen. I guess this can be considered the start of my TV shipping (and also an early sign of my love for contuinity and longer arcs on TV).

2. First OTP - Ignoring pre-puberty: at the age of 12, I was really obsessed with Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff and Cathy and read the book who knows how mny times. Regarding TV, I’ve shipped over the years, but I guess the first TV ship I would really call my OTP was in This Life, a 1990s UK drama about a bunch of 20-somethings in London, which I watched on TV in 2001. which now sadly seems almost forgotten. Anna and Miles had an on-off, love-hate relationship throughout - they were sexy, snarky, and it was painfully obvious that they were in love, but these idiots had trouble admitting it to themselves and even more to each other. If it had been a romcom, they would’ve been certain to end up together, but it was a realistic drama.

3. Current Favorite Ship - Bellarke - oh, what an OTP of all OTPs that was before it was stupidly destroyed out of spite. Over the last couple of years, Dark (season 3 mostly) made me really love Jonas and Martha (the first pairing I’ve made gifsets about), and most recently (last month!), I binged Halt and Catch Fire and fell in love with the show and with Joe and Cameron’s relationship (which, I just realized now, shows that my taste in OTPs hasn’t changed in 20 years).

If we’re talking current as in, in current shows rather than finished ones, then Kanej (Shadow and Bone), Harlivy (Harley Quinn), Gereon and Charlotte (Babylon Berlin) and Roy and Keeley (Ted Lasso).

4. Your ship since the first minute - I really rarely ship anything from the first minute (unless we’re talking Morticia and Gomez, who are of course already a perfect couple and nothing ever changes there). It usually takes time for me to fall for a ship. A rare exception is Roy and Keeley - their first one-on-one scene in S1 already had huge OTP vibes.

5. Ship(s) You Wish Had Been Endgame - Do I even have to say it? BELLARKE. A hundred times Bellarke, who were portrayed as endgame before the showrunner decided to retcon and ruin them together with the show overall.

Others: Jessica and Luke in Netfix Narvel shows, May and Andrew on AoS, Willow and Oz; or, depending on how you interpret Endgame, Willow/Tara (some argue that it is Endgame as Tara is definitely portrayed as the love of Willow’s life regardless of everything else). Spuffy (again, there are different opinions as to its status as both the show and the comics ended ambiguously and tried not to have a clear Endgame pairing for Buffy’s character), Xander/Anya (if you take comics into account).

6. Ship You Wish Was Canon - Some would say Bellarke, again, but I tend to consider it canon. It’s debatable, for sure (if you only consider making out/sex and/or “I love you” as markers of canon, it is not canon; if it is enough for the show to make it so blatant in the first 6 seasons that you have to actively search for ways to deny it to make it sound platonic, and for actors to confirm it was portrayed as romantic- than it is.)

So my answer would be: Kastle (Netflix Marvel shows), QuakeRider (AoS), and Octavia and Diyoza (The 100) and maybe Faith and Buffy (mostly in the sense that canon could have explored the nature of Faith’s feelings for Buffy a bit more and a bit more openly).

7. Ship that Most of the Fandom Hates, but You Love - Angel and Darla, May and Andrew, Coulson and Rosalind (hated how it ended though). Miller and Bryan (because they were more interesting than Mackson, and Bryan had a personality), Though “ships that most of the fandom ignores” would be a more apt term. The one that most of the fandom does hate and I like it is Octavia/Ilian - I liked it for what it was, two damaged people finding comfort together in what could have grown into something more - instead of the “we’re ve just met and talked to each other once and we’re already IN LOVE!” trope that the writers of The 100 were so fond of.

8. You Don’t Even Watch the Show, but You Ship It - Why would I ship something from a show I don’t watch?

9. Ship That You Wish Had A Different Storyline - BELLARKE (duh - the ending). Veronica and Logan (the ending, again). Coulson/Rosalind - they had such an interesting and fun dynamic that could have been explored much more; instead, the writers opted for one of the worst tropes there are, and I hated that entire plotline for so many reasons. Tyrol and Boomer on Battlestar Galactica - what they did with Boomer was crap. Baltar and Caprica - all the bad writing in season 4. This is a weird example of a ship that I shipped so hard for 3 seasons and that was given Endgame in every sense of the word, but, by that point, I barely cared anymore, because the writers forgot about their relationship throughout the final season and made it seem like they didn’t even remember each other, and then slapped a last minute happy ending. Plus they retconed/explained their connection in such a stupid and anticlimactic way that ruined it retroactively.

10. Favorite Ship(s) That’s Endgame - Everlark, Nora and Kevin (The Leftovers), Philip and Elizabeth (The Americans), and Josh and Della on Night and Day (a really obscure early 2000s UK show that was watched by maybe 100 people.) Some others worth mentioning: FitzSimmons, Niles and Daphne, Tim and Dawn (original UK The Office), Jake and Amy, Memori (the only bright spot in a rubbish ending). And of course, there’s Morticia and Gomez, though they are less Endgame and more AlwaysGame.

Tagging: @jeanie205 @kizo2703 @poppykru @sheigarche @weareagentsofnothing @sometimesrosy @misskittyspuffy @otp-armada @carrieeve @sexy-zeitreise-detektiv @jonaskanwalds @immortalpramheda @ladyofthefrostfangs @tennyo-elf @fandomkru @natassakar @hadrianvonpaulus @sillier-things @angearia @thekawaiislartibartfast @foolishnymeria @erikiara80 @heartbellamy and anyone else who sees this - sorry I didn’t tag you and please consider yourself tagged. :)

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carnationcreation · 4 years ago

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Hi can you do a Reggie x reader where she’s Luke’s younger sister and her and Reggie were dating in the 90s and then in the present when Luke goes sees his parents the reader is there and Reggie isn’t expecting that and the reader is telling her parents that she’s been trying to expose Bobby about his hit songs are her brothers and Reggie and Luke are both happy about that and also the reader knows julies mom and she asks to come hear her play and see Luke and Reggie. I hope this isn’t to weird

TITLE: Number One Fan (JATP Reggie x reader)

Masterlist

Request an imagine here!

Request: Yes!

Pairing: Reggie x reader, Luke x sister! reader

Prompt/summary: The reader is Luke’s younger sister. Her and Reggie were dating in the 90s and she finally gets closure after 20 years

Word Count: 2,136

Warnings: some angst I guess

Authors note: I already had a similar idea to this so I’m gonna take some ideas from what I already had written. I had to simplify this a little bit, but I hope you enjoy!

The beating of my heart drowned out the sound of the doorbell as I stood outside of my parents house. Though this event happens every year it still doesn’t quell the amount of anxiety and pain I feel, even after 20 years. In 1995 I didn’t only lose my brother Luke, I lost my boyfriend Reggie. Oh even the thought of their names makes my eyes water and my throat close up.

The door finally swung open after what felt like a century. Seeing dad standing there brought up feelings I had tried to run away from, feelings I tried to fix and shut out but never truly could. He pulled me into a tight hug and wiped some of my tears away. This is how it went every single year on his birthday, no one truly spoke but everyone knew there was nothing to say.

I still remember the night Luke ran away. My parents tried their best to pry where he was staying out of me but I never let them, I just couldn’t betray my brother like that. Besides they treated him terribly after they found out about the band. I guess I still blame them for him never coming home.

After the candle was blown out and the cake was cut I took mine into Luke’s room to eat. I knew he’d be proud since our parents used to be super strict about no food in the bedroom and I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity. His room was still the same, even after 20 years. Posters of his favorite bands hung on the walls, his guitar sat on its stand in the corner. I only knew one song that he taught me, but it’s become the only thing that feels close to him. The strings hadn’t been replaced in years and I could see the exact spot where his fingers had worn away the metal leaving it smooth and thin. It still sounded beautiful after all this time.

I felt something in the room shift. Goosebumps formed on my arms as I felt something soft wrap around me. It was barely there. If I wasn’t paying attention I would’ve missed it entirely with how the air seemed to wrap around me. Tears fell down my face as I put the guitar up and grabbed the empty plate, trying to make sense of what happened.

_______________________________________________

It wasn’t even a few days later when there was another ring from the doorbell. Dad answered it and let the girl inside.

“Julie lives in the house the band used to rehearse in,” Dad said as I walked into the living room, “She was just telling me she found a song that Luke wrote.”

“It’s a song about a girl named Emily?” Julie questioned.

Mom gasped, “I’m Emily…”

“Then I think your son may have written this song for you,” Julie said.

I took the paper out of her hands slowly, looking over my brother's handwriting and scribbles that covered the paper. I turned to my mom and nodded while handing it to her.

“I need some air,” I said. I walked out the front door and leaned against the hood of my car trying to catch my breath.

It wasn’t too long after that Julie finally walked outside. She saw me and put her hands in her back pockets before walking over slowly.

“Your Luke’s sister?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, I wiped the tears off of my face, “and Reggie’s girlfriend back in the day.”

“Oh,” she said, I could tell she was shocked and I giggled at her wide eyes.

I took a deep breath, “Did you find his songwriting notebook? I’ve tried searching for it for years, it wasn’t in his stuff when he…”

“He must’ve left it in the garage before he left that night, and it’s there now. It’s one that I found. Do you want it back?”

“No,” I said, “I don’t think I have the strength to look through them all, and honestly I don’t want to know how many sappy love songs he wrote about the girls he chased when he was younger.”

Julie laughed and I joined her, it felt good to finally be able to talk to someone about my brother.

“Julie?” I asked, “Did you find any of Reggie’s stuff?”

Julie took a pause before responding, “Yes I found some of his jackets in the garage.”

“Would you mind to bring some of them?” I asked.

She nodded before pausing again, “Did you ever move on? After that night?”

I sighed and looked down at the ground, “I lost both my brother, my best friend, and my boyfriend in the same night. It’s hard to move on after that. Losing not one but three of the people you love can change you.”

Julie nodded before pulling another piece of paper out of her back pocket, “I asked your parents if I could perform some of their songs, I think you should come.”

“Thank you Julie, I’d love to. You know I was their number one fan right? I always got to sit in at practice and got their shirts before they were for sale. I guess I didn’t want to listen to their music at all after everything that happened.”

“They wouldn’t want you to lock music out of your life, just know they died while going after their dreams. Not many people get to do that.”

I nodded before pulling her into a hug. She waved as she walked off leaving just me and the paper she gave me. I opened it up and a smaller white piece of paper fell on the ground. The first paper, bright pink and vibrant, read Julie and the Phantoms Live!

The white piece of paper was obviously from my brother's songwriting book, scribbled at the top of the page in Reggie’s handwriting was (Y/n)’s song.

_______________________________________________

The Opheum. The same place my brothers passed away over 20 years ago now. I found Julie’s dad near the front row and took my place next to them at the wall separating the fans from the stage. Julie appeared on stage finally and delivered a short speech dedicating the song to her mom and her friends. I was confused as the notes to Stand Tall started playing, I wrote this with Luke a month before he died. Where did she get this? My answer came as slowly each member of Sunset Drive appeared on stage in front of me. Tears formed in my eyes as I saw the people I loved the most show up after 20 years of thinking they were gone. After a big finale and a standing ovation Julie finally walked backstage and she had asked me to meet her back there after the show.

“Julie I- what was that? Are they really here?” I said as I rushed up to her.

“Hold on,” she said as she pulled me into the dressing room, she closed the door and turned back to me, “I’m going to tell you but I don’t want you to freak out or think I’m crazy.”

“Julie I just saw the three people I thought were dead for 20 years play an opening act on stage, if anyones crazy it’s obviously me.”

Julie took a big breath and went into the entire story of how she formed a band with my three ghost best friends and managed to convince everyone that it was a hologram. And then how a creepy demon dude branded them and is trying to force them to join his club and they have to avoid it by finding their unfinished business to be able to cross over. By the end of it I was leaning back in the chair I sat down in and rubbing my face.

“So they’re here?” I asked.

“Yes, well, kinda.”

“And people can only see them when they’re playing?” I said as I pushed my hair back.

“Yes,” she said, “and I know I know it doesn’t seem real but I can prove it to you.”

“How?”

“Follow me to my house.”

_______________________________________________

I drove behind them on the way home and waited for Julie to give me the signal to come inside.

“You know Luke wrote Stand Tall as a duet for me?”

Julie turned to me with wide eyes, “Oh- uh, no I didn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be Julie, I’m so glad he finally got to perform it with someone,” I said with tears brimming my eyes

“Don’t you still want to be with him?” Julie asked.

I raised my eyes, “With Reggie?”

She nodded.

“I’ve aged 20 years Julie, and spent most of that time believing he was gone. I moved on. Maybe if I could see him again I would, but I don’t really know if people would find it weird a 36 year old is dating someone who hasn’t aged.”

Julie laughed before I could continue, “I’m just happy he finally got to live his dream, and I’ll always be your biggest fan.”

She led me out in the garage that my brothers had practiced in when they were in high school. I looked around and saw how much had changed over the years, a grand piano sat in the back that I had never seen before. The lights were still off but I could see the outline of the couch and furniture and instruments scattered around.

“I never got to say goodbye before they crossed over,” Julie sighed and I rubbed her shoulder, “Or tell them thank you.”

I heard a whisper come from inside the studio and Julie whipped around to turn on the lights. I couldn’t see who she was talking to but I knew it was them.

“I thought you crossed over?”

My face furrowed in confusion, “What’s going on?”

“They pretended to cross over but the Orpheum wasn’t their unfinished business,” Julie said as her voice shook.

“So they came here to die again?!” I yelled.

Julie smiled and said, “Reggie said you’re still the same firecracker he asked out in freshman year.”

“Reggie?”

She pointed to the ground beside the recliner, the air seemed cloudy, surrounding a vague outline of a person. I sat down on the ground near the blob and cried wishing I could see them.

Julie pleaded with them to go join Caleb but I knew it was no use. Their stubbornness transcended the mortal world. I saw Julie lean up and hug a figure, then I saw Luke. I gasped as he started to glow a golden light.

“Why can I feel you?” Julie said.

“I don’t know but, I feel stronger.”

“Luke?” I gasped out.

He turned and gave me his signature smile, “See? I told you you’d never get rid of me for too long.”

I rushed forward and tackled him in a hug.

“Reggie, Alex come here!” Julie yelled.

I felt three more sets of arms around me. More glowing light filled the room and I looked up to see my three best friends standing in front of me once more.

“Whoa,” Reggie said, I looked up and looked deep into his eyes, “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”

The boys winced as the marks on their wrists began to float into the air and disappeared.

“What does this mean?” Julie said.

“I think the band’s back,” Luke smiled.

“And with our number one fan,” Reggie said and threw his arm around me. I buried my face in his neck and finally smelled the scent I’d forgotten long ago.

“You guys think we can try the hug thing one more time?” Alex said, causing us to laugh. We all pulled into another group hug.

After we pulled back again Reggie said, “I like this.” Before pulling us into another hug.

“We played the Orpheum!” Julie shouted and we all jumped around, never letting go until Julie’s dad called her inside.

I stayed outside with the boys for just a little bit longer. My arms never left Reggie’s neck unless it was to hug the other too, trying to catch up on 20 years worth of affection that was missed.

“You look hot,” Reggie said causing me to chuckle.

“Dude!” Luke yelled, “I don’t care how old she is, that's still my little sister.”

“Sorry bro, but she’d be a hot mom,” Reggie smirked.

I smiled and pulled Reggie in for another hug.

He pulled back and looked into my eyes, “So what does this mean for us?”

“I don’t know honestly,” I sighed, “But I guess we’ll figure it out.”

“I’m never letting you go,” Reggie said as he buried his face in my hair.

“I’m counting on it besides you still have to play that song for you number one fan."

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