#and speaks very clearly about who luke is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

too-deviant · 8 months ago

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jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly.

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!”

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not.

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it.

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room.

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse.

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response.

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad.

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking.

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice.

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat.

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty.

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie.

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours.

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.”

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since.

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself.

Or maybe because he’s hot.

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.”

No reply, as usual.

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no.

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off?

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer.

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak.

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one.

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait.

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject.

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball.

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries.

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be.

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?”

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question.

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.”

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking.

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock.

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better.

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd.

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back.

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears.

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat.

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing.

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.”

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?”

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists.

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.” Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them.

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself.

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces.

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.”

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods.

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion.

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual.

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.”

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke.

“Why did you…come after me?”

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.”

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.”

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?”

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!”

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off.

“A dragon clawed your face off?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest.

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.”

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees.

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that.

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.”

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him.

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.”

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.”

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months ago

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The Boys P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Characters - Lucerys Velaryon & Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Lucerys Velaryon X Reader X Jacaerys Velaryon Reader - (OC) Vaella Targaryen (Eldest Daughter of Laena and Daemon) Rating - Smut Word Count - 2031

The hours had passed, and the two princes had spent the time eagerly anticipating Vaella 's return. Luke was practically buzzing with excitement, while Jace was looking slightly more relaxed, but still clearly excited at the prospect of her coming back.

Finally, they heard the soft sound of the door opening, and both boys immediately perked up, their eyes searching for her familiar figure.

Vaella slowly came in closing the chamber door and heading inside seeing how they both perk up like excited puppies "Aww you two seem excited to see me for once?"

They both grinned sheepishly, not denying it at all. They looked a bit embarrassed, but there was no hiding the joy on their faces now that she had returned.

"You said you would come back for cuddles," Jacaerys pointed out, sounding slightly accusatory.

"I did, I'm back aren't I?"

"You took ages," he grumbled slightly.

Lucerys, on the other hand, just looked extremely happy that she was back. He was practically beaming as he looked up at her. "Come and cuddle us," he requested eagerly. “P-please,” he added,

"Well I'm very sorry Jacaerys but sometimes drugging a knight and removing his tounge takes longer than anticipated" she chuckled giving Jacaerys a slight teasing tap on his nose "Aww you really missed me didn't you, such a sweetie?" She cooed sitting in Luke's bed and giving his forehead a kiss

Luke beamed, his smile widening even further as she sat on the bed and kissed his forehead,

Jace rolled his eyes at her comment, not even annoyed anymore now that she was back. He just looked at her with a hint of mock reproach in his eyes.

"Just hurry up and come over here," he grumbled, holding his arms out towards her.

"oh, somebody's very grumpy today, so? How are we doing this? Turns? If so who wants to go first? Or just one nice big snuggle?"

Both boys exchanged a look, clearly thinking about the three possible options. A hint of a smirk appeared on both their faces as they thought the same thing. They both looked at Vaella, looking completely angelic and innocent which they knew they both were not.

"One big snuggle," they said in unison.

"alright, who's bed then?"

"Definitely mine," Jace replied instantly, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards his bed. He was determined to have her as close as possible.

Luke looked betrayed but didn't protest. He just huffed and crossed his arms.

"Alright then," she chuckled sitting on Jace's bed "Who wants to be which spoon then?"

Both boys were immediately interested, and they both tried to speak at the same time.

"I want-!"

"I do-!"

They looked at each other for a moment, before turning to Vaella at the same time, wearing identical puppy-dog expressions as they looked innocently up at her.

"you boys are so childish sometimes" she chuckled as she stood and unlaced her velvet dress letting it cascade to the floor leaving her in her thin black cotton underdress that only went to her knees. She yawned and laid down in Jace's bed "Luke here. Jace here." She demanded tapping in front of her for Luke and behind her for Jace as she lay on her side

Both boys seemed slightly distracted as they watched her slip out of her dress, staring at her in her thin underdress. But then she snapped them both out of it by ordering them to take a specific position.

Jace obeyed, quickly taking the spot behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing his body flush against her. Luke, meanwhile, slipped into the space in front of her, snuggling up against her.

Vaella happily laid her head on the pillow mostly as she knew it would cause a fight wherever she laid it and rested her hands around Luke's body to keep them all close as Jace held her in his arms the three together warm and cosy "ummm very nice and cosy"

Luke was practically melting against her body, his face nuzzling into her chest and his body feeling perfectly content in her embrace. Jace also looked very satisfied and content as he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder and sighed, his breath warm against her skin. "Very nice," he agreed in a low voice.

"good, I'm so cosy I could just fall asleep"

"You can't fall asleep yet," Jace protested immediately. He squeezed her tighter, as if to keep her awake.

Luke let out a faint grumble in agreement. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Not yet."

"oh and why not?"

Both boys exchanged a look before they spoke,

"We're not ready to let you go," Jace said.

"We want to keep you awake," Luke added.

"I won't leave I'm just sleepy is all"

Jace and Luke were both clearly not satisfied with her response.

"No sleep," Jace protested stubbornly.

"Keep awake," Luke agreed, pouting slightly.

"alright alright, I'll do my best but you two are making me so comfortable"

Both boys gave her a satisfied grin. They knew her resistance was weakening, and they were going to take full advantage of it.

Jace nuzzled his head into her hair, his arms still wrapped around her waist, his chest against her back.

Luke snuggled closer to her chest, burying his face in her neck. His body pressed flush against her.

They were surrounding her completely, their bodies clinging to her tightly. They were clearly enjoying having her all to themselves, and they were determined to keep her from falling asleep for as long as possible.

Jace kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder, his lips soft against her skin.

Luke pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back.

she chuckled as each of them began peppering her neck with kisses each having picked a different side to kiss, which caused her to giggle and slightly squirm between them

Both boys chuckled softly as they felt her squirming between them. Hearing her giggles only motivated them to keep kissing her, their mouths exploring the sensitive skin of her neck and collarbone. They both relished the feeling of her pressed between them, their bodies flush against hers.

Jace nibbled gently on her earlobe, while Luke placed a trail of kisses along her jawline.

"you boys are relentless"

Both boys hummed in agreement, their mouths still working slowly against her skin. They weren't going to give her any reprieve, no matter how much she squirmed or how much she protested.

"We're determined to keep you awake," Jace mumbled against her neck, as he continued kissing her.

"You're not allowed to fall asleep," Luke added, his voice slightly muffled as he nibbled on her shoulder.

"alright alright I won't fall asleep just no more kisses they tickle"

Both boys let out slight pouts of disappointment,

Jace nuzzled his chin against her shoulder and grumbled in her ear. "No more kisses?" He sounded slightly unhappy.

Luke, on the other hand, looked far more pouty than the other. "You don't like our kisses?" He whined, clearly dejected.

"of course I love you boys kisses but when you both do it at the same time I don't get to focus on any of the nice kisses"

Jace chuckled softly in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "Ah, so you're saying we should kiss you one at a time instead of all at once?"

Luke also grinned as he nuzzled her neck, clearly on board with that plan. "we can do that," he mumbled against her.

With that, they fell into a pattern. One would kiss her neck and the other would kiss her shoulder, their mouths alternating between the two. They were careful not to kiss her at the same time, as per her request. They wanted to keep her here, but they weren't going to torture her with ticklish kisses.

Jace nibbled gently on her earlobe, his mouth hot against her skin. Luke continued to kiss her shoulder, his lips soft and gentle.

They continued their assault on both sides, both boys giving equal attention to her neck and shoulders. They seemed to have found a rhythm together, taking turns to kiss her skin, their mouths moving in unison. It was like they were both trying to outdo each other in terms of who could make her shiver more. The feeling of their lips against her sensitive skin was both exhilarating and maddening at the same time.

Vaella gasped and whimpered enjoying the boys kisses as they shared her neck and tender skin, still she slightly squirmed until Jace moved her tighter against him and Luke closed the gap between kisses leaving her with both pressed against her completely and her only ability to squirm tiny inches both of which cause her to rub up on them, if she squirms at all now her behind grinds on Jace and her front rubs up against Luke

Both boys let out a unison gasp as she rubbed up against them, their mouths pausing their attack on her skin for a moment.

Jace's breath hitched as he felt her grind against him from behind, and a low groan escaped him, his arms tightening around her waist.

Luke let out a shuddering exhale as her chest rubbed against his from the front, his lips quivering against her neck. He seemed to be holding himself back from burying his face in her chest at that moment.

she whined slightly whimpering as she couldn't stop her squirming pure reaction from the kisses on her ticklish spots on her neck. But she soon knew the danger she was in as she felt her hips shift once more and felt Jace hard behind her and Luke hard Infront of her leaving her with nowhere to escape the boys no matter how she moved she would be giving one pleasure and that only grew worse as they both continued to kiss and tickle her pressing her body tight between them.

Both boys groaned as they felt her squirming between them, her body rubbing up against them in the process. Their eyes darkened as they felt themselves grow harder in response to her unintentional stimulation. They were both completely wrapped up in her, the sensations overwhelming.

Jace's grip on her waist tightened as he tried to hold her still, his breath warm against her ear. "You're driving us crazy," he whispered, his voice strained with desire.

Luke nodded, his breath ragged against her neck. "You're making it very difficult for us to keep our hands to ourselves," he gasped.

"I'm not sure I can be blamed for that" she protested playfully

Jace nuzzled her ear, his breath coming in uneven gasps. "You're right. It's hard to blame you when you're so damn irresistible."

Luke nodded in agreement, his hands slowly tracing patterns on her hips, his fingers digging in slightly. "It doesn't change the fact that you're driving us crazy, though."

"... Alright, but one rule. You can't rip my dress" she told them

Both boys' eyes widened slightly at her command, their gazes shifting downward to look at her dress. They were clearly contemplating the idea.

Jace hummed in response, his fingers playing with the edge of her dress. "No ripping?" he repeated.

Luke chimed in as well, his eyes roving over her body as he considered the rule. "Are you sure about that? We might get a little... carried away."

"No ripping. That's the rules."

Both boys pouted slightly at her words, clearly a little disappointed that they wouldn't be able to tear her dress off. But they quickly recovered.

Jace sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Fine, no ripping. We'll have to find other ways to... express our desires."

Luke nodded as well, looking slightly frustrated but still accepting the rule. "You're asking a lot from us, you know. But we'll do our best to honor the rule. No tearing the dress."

With the rule established, both boys looked at each other and then back at her. They were both clearly still very eager to continue, but they were now bound by her rule of keeping the dress intact.

234 notes · View notes

romanhughesy · 3 months ago

Text

Aftertaste

quinn hughes x indie singer!fem reader

summary: quinn is dragged out to a show at a dive bar, and finds himself drawn to the lead singer...

wc: 5.3k

notes: ive seen a lot of nhl stars x pop girlie reader (a slay every time) but something about the idea of straight laced quinn x indie girl compels me..

As a professional hockey player, it was one of Quinn’s biggest gripes when people told him he only cared about hockey. Mainly because people always said it like it was a bad thing, something they were uncovering that Quinn didn’t know about himself. Something he should be ashamed of. But Quinn knew, and he wasn’t ashamed at all. Hockey was in his blood, inextricably linked with his real biggest priority. His family. Luckily, hockey and family had always gone hand in hand for Quinn. Even when hockey took him far away from everyone, even when people tried to pit him and his brothers against each other, it never strained their relationships. They all knew it was just the nature of the game. Reaching his dreams, being an impactful player, it took thick skin. All three Hughes boys had been raised with that knowledge.

But, that didn’t mean things didn’t rattle him occasionally. Like now, sitting on a teammate’s couch, trying to savor what he thought would be a chill afternoon sprawling into a quiet evening. Until someone’s phone rang. Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend was on the line, trying to convince everyone to go out. Her friend was in a band playing that night, and ‘there was no cover, so everyone should come.’ Because a bunch of professional athletes worried about paying an entry fee. A couple guys said sure, a couple more said they had plans, and when it was more or less worked out who’d be going, a few of them turned to look at Quinn. He shook his head, not moving from his slumped lean against the back of the couch. He was tired. And comfortable. So he verbally answers, “I’m not a huge live music guy. But thanks for the invite.”

He hadn’t expected his voice to carry through the phone, really just speaking to his teammate. But the girl on the other line must’ve heard, because she scoffed. “Is that Quinn?” her voice crackled through the speaker. “Figures. He couldn’t care less about anything that isn’t hockey!”

Quinn could hear that she was joking, but it still stung. He didn’t even know this girl that well. Why was she looking down on him for prioritizing his job, that he was, frankly, great at? Joshua immediately came to his defense, shooting an apologetic look over his shoulder and saying, “Hey, Captain’s locked in. Can’t complain, especially with the way the season’s going.”

The conversation shifted, and then ended altogether, but Quinn was lost in his thoughts until some of the guys who weren’t going to the bar stood up to leave. What would he do with his evening, if he did go home? Slump on his own couch, watch tape or other games on TV that evening, talk to his mom or Jack or Luke, if they were free? Those were all things he enjoyed, that brought him joy, but none of his excuses sounded good enough when the guys asked if he was sure he didn’t want to go. So, he lets himself be half-dragged into the bar, and if he’s nursing his beer on the edge of their crowded booth a bit grumpily, hopefully everyone will let it slide. The group of people was bigger than he’d anticipated for a free show at a pretty run down bar. Quinn’s not even sure this is technically a concert, as very few people are lingering anywhere near the stage, and no one seems to be paying any attention to the people tuning instruments up there.

“So, wait, how do you even know this girl?” Quinn hears someone ask, and that brings his attention back to the situation at hand. Joshua’s girlfriend, clearly pleased to hold the attention of the table, smiles widely.

“Oh, we went to university together! It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out, but she was always so talented. She never actually made her own music in school though, which I thought was strange. So when she mentioned joining a band, I just knew they’d be great!”

Awesome. Quinn’s been dragged out to see an amateur musician who’s a former classmate of someone he barely knows. He might need a couple more beers to make it through this.

“What kind of music do they play?” Someone else chimed in, apparently not as put off by the previous answer as Quinn was.

“I’m not really sure. I think, like, indie rock? She mentioned they’d be doing a lot of covers, because they’ve just recently started playing together. She said they wanted to go ahead with gigging to work out what kind of sound they wanted for their own music, so cool!”

Quinn was seriously impressed by this girl’s loyalty to her friend. He wouldn’t call himself a big indie rock fan, but there were way less palatable genres, so maybe he’d survive after all. He looked towards the stage, at the band tuning their instruments and checking mics, and turned back to the table with a question of his own.

“Is she the brunette with the bass?”

“Nope!” Joshua’s girlfriend answered, eyes bright. She obviously hadn’t expected Quinn to show any interest. “She’s not up on stage right now. But that white guitar they’re sound-checking right now is hers. I recognize it from her Instagram.”

Quinn nodded, curiosity satisfied. Conor rose from the other side of the booth, clearly heading to the bar, so Quinn slid out too, maybe a bit overly eager to step away from the larger group. Lucky for him, they lingered by the bar even after getting their drinks, so Conor was either a mind reader, or just felt similarly. They made easy chatter, and Quinn felt some of the tension in his shoulders unwind. Before he’d even thought of rejoining their other teammates, the bar lights dimmed. Quinn hadn’t even realized it was possible to make the space any dimmer. Turning his gaze towards the stage, all the same people as before were settled with their respective instruments, leaving a gap in the middle of the stage. Quinn’s eyebrows raised. A few seconds later, the missing member quietly entered the stage, smiling bashfully.

Quinn felt like he’d been hit over the head, and that was putting it mildly. Fiddling with an acoustic guitar, high points of her face getting kissed by a spotlight, the lead singer was maybe the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“Hi, everyone. We don’t quite have a name, or much original music right now, but we’re gonna play some of our favorite songs for you guys tonight. Hope you enjoy.” Her voice was soft, tinged with nerves, but still warm. Quinn couldn’t look away as she adjusted her grip on her guitar one more time, and shared a glance with the bass player on her right. The band started playing, and Quinn’s breath was stolen.

They were playing an older song Quinn vaguely recognized, quiet, soft rock. He hadn’t really ever considered someone’s singing honest before, but that’s how it felt. Clear, sincere. Just singing from the soul, like she would sound the exact same even if the room was completely empty.

“You live your life, you go in shadows

You'll come apart and you'll go blind

Some kind of night into your darkness

Colors your eyes with what's not there”

He stood, transfixed, until Conor elbowed his arm and tilted his head towards the booth. He looked like he had some taunts ready, but spared them as the men moved through the mostly quiet room.

Back of his neck burning, Quinn slid back into the booth. Most of the group had gone to stand by the stage, bringing the amount of people at the table to a much more manageable amount. For Quinn’s social capabilities, at least. Not that he was paying much attention to anyone at the table, eyes glued to the middle of the stage.

The band had launched into their second song, this one apparently not requiring the singer to also play guitar. Quinn appreciated its absence, as it gave him an unobstructed view of her. She was in a sleeveless black mini dress and calf-high boots, which should’ve been little dressed up for the dingy bar. But, she pulled it off effortlessly, hair down and catching the light as she tossed in time with the music. Quinn certainly wouldn’t call himself an expert, but he wasn’t even sure if she was wearing makeup other than some lived-in eyeliner. She looked like a girl in a 90’s movie, effortless yet put together, all at once. It was intimidating, but something about her presence was also unmistakably warm and open. Quinn couldn’t look away from how she moved with a casual grace, the way her whole body seemed to respond to the song, guiding her voice.

“I feel naked when you look my way

You can see it on my face

You're the only reason I came here

You're the only reason I stayed here

And I'm livin' on the aftertaste

Don’t you tell me it’s too late”

Dancing along to the music was obviously shaking off a lot of her nerves, but even far from the stage, he saw the singer’s cheeks flush as the crowd applauded at the end of the song. Cute. After saddling her acoustic guitar once again, the singer leaned into the microphone.

“This next one is one of my favorite songs. Hope you guys like it.”

“During practice she’d say that about, like, six different songs. I just have to let everyone know.” The person sitting behind a keyboard chimed in, and the singer’s shocked laughter made Quinn feel lightly carbonated. Fizzy, reactive. What was wrong with him?

“I’ve got a big heart. Anyway!”

She led the band into the next song, and they continued to play a few more, with minimal commentary. They weren’t playing anything Quinn was familiar with, but he didn’t really mind letting the music wash over him. The band were talented, and Quinn could see people around the room who clearly did know the songs enjoying themselves, further validating his assessment. At some point, Conor disappears, and brings back new drinks for the both of them, giving him that taunting look again. This time, he delivers.

“You know, I thought you weren’t really a live music guy? Seem to be enjoying yourself plenty.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“What? Just making small talk. Need me to be quiet so you can focus on the music? Maybe she’ll sign your forehead at the merch table later.”

Quinn lets out a long-suffering sigh. There’s nothing he’d change about his life, really, but he sometimes dreams of a world where he’s a scary captain that people don’t make fun of for their own entertainment. That’d show them. He settles, instead, for making fun back, like any respectable adult with younger siblings.

“Signed a lot of autographs lately? She could probably teach you how.”

Conor lets out a shocked sound, but their back and forth is cut off by applause echoing through the bar.

“Thank you!” The singer is once again guitar-less, nervously fiddling with her mic stand with dainty hands that Quinn’s eyes get stuck on. They must be tough, for how deftly she plays her guitar, but they look small. Quinn buries a half-formed thought of brushing against them, holding them in his own. He’s losing it.

“We’re gonna do a few songs with some different vibes, if that’s okay with you guys. We’re still working on pinning down what style of music we really like making as a band, so we’d love to know what you think of these. This first one is called Starling, and it’s actually an original of mine.”

Her cheeks flush at the scattered cheers through the room, and once the song starts, Quinn understands why. The song is raw, subdued instrumentation highlighting her voice. She sings most of it with her eyes shut, but not tightly. Not fearful. She’s swaying gently, and her voice soars through the dingy bar.

“And she says we're the lucky ones

And you know why

To meet another is a miracle, let alone you and I

You and I, you and I”

The applause at the end of the song is noticeably louder than the songs before. Quinn claps, and Conor doesn’t even make fun of him, because he’s clapping too. The lead guitar player pats the singer on the back as she takes a swig of water and visibly tries to settle her nerves.

“Okay, that was scary! Let’s have fun now.”

The next song is folksy and upbeat, old-fashioned. It reminds Quinn of something his parents would listen to. The band really digs into it, the audience responding in turn, and Quinn feels weirdly connected to it all. It reminds him of being on the ice, a good shift where he feels like a live wire and can anticipate the moves of all of his linemates. Everything ramps up towards the end of the song, and it’s actually Conor who’s shoving Quinn out of the booth, towards their teammates closer to the stage.

“Seems like the last few songs are fun. Let's be social.”

Quinn lets himself be dragged, like he has all night, folding into the group. A couple of the guys seem shocked to see them, Soucy throwing a “We thought you guys bailed!” over his shoulder. Quinn shrugs, but tries to fake-nonchalantly answer before Garland. Whatever Conor might say would do him no good.

“Nah, just hanging back at the booth. Still tired from earlier.”

“Nice. They’re doing a good job up there. Joshua’s girl is losing her mind.”

Quinn is too, a little, but he refuses to say that out loud. Luckily, they’re interrupted.

“Thanks for really getting into that last one. That’s one of my favorites.” One of the other band members snickers and starts to interrupt, Quinn sees their teasing smile from where he stands. The singer cuts them off, grinning widely and continuing her sentence,

“This is our second to last song. Laugh at me if you want, but it truly is my favorite song these days. Not one of my favorites, just my favorite. This is Juna by Clairo. Let’s dance!”

He’s never heard it before, much like the rest of the set, but this song is definitely his favorite, too. It’s still playful, but has a sensuality that’s completely out of left field. Taking the microphone from the stand, the singer slinks across the small open area of the stage. Her hips sway, free hand gesturing with the music, and she looks so good Quinn almost can’t bear it. She’s singing directly to the audience, confident and present in a way he hadn’t seen from her so far. And he’d definitely been paying more attention than he’d admit to anyone.

“You know me, you know me

And I just might know you too, know you

Come to me ready”

Joshua’s girlfriend throws her hands up when the singer looks their way, and the singer looks down at her friend with a dazzling smile, sweeping her eyes over the rest of the group. Quinn has a weird instinct to avert his eyes, or run away, but he’s too late. The singer is looking at him. Quinn swears he sees her eyes widen, just a fraction, but the moment breaks, the rhythm moving her across the stage. He spends the rest of the song— and most of the following one— in a daze. He claps when everyone else claps, lets himself be moved like the crowd moves, but he’s mostly just drinking in the singer’s appearance. Her charm, her confidence, it’s magnetic. He’d be embarrassed, but he’s definitely not the only one looking. And that makes something smolder in him, stifling and warm.

“Thank you all so much for being here. This was actually our first show all together as a band, so it’s been very special. Enjoy the rest of the evening!”

The audience gives one last hardy round of applause, and the band don’t bother with theatrics, unceremoniously beginning to break down all their equipment. Quinn, as per usual, lets himself be led to the bar for another round, and then back to a table. Some of the girls in the group are chatting about how much they liked the set, how they’d love to see them again, but one comment in particular lands heavy on his brain. It’s Joshua’s girlfriend, pretending to be casual when she boasts,

“I told you guys Y/N was amazing! I texted her and told her she should come hang with us for a minute when they’re all packed up. I hope she has time.”

Conor elbows him. The little shit. Quinn gives him a withering look, but he knows at least one of the other guys had to have noticed the interaction.

“Oh?” Dakota raises an eyebrow at him. “Interested in meeting Y/N? Didn’t really think you cared for live music, Cap. Had to drag you into the bar and all.”

Quinn visualizes the alternate universe where he’s intimidating his teammates, and decides to play dumb in real life.

“Who? The only reason I haven’t left is because Garland keeps buying me drinks.”

Joshua doesn’t quite buy it.

“That’s nice of him. Means you have room for a couple drinks for Y/N on your tab, then. She was the lead singer. Seemed like you were keeping an eye on her.”

“You know, not a huge live music guy, myself, but I’ve heard when people are onstage you’re supposed to pay attention to them.” Quinn chirps, perhaps belatedly realizing getting defensive about the girl would only make things worse. The guys laugh, and the conversation moves on, so he must’ve said just enough to be let off the hook.

Quinn lets his thoughts wander, rather than taking part in the mindless chatter. He really is tired. Everyone will tease him for leaving, but he’s been more than a good sport. He’s absolutely far surpassed his “not hockey” quota for the day. Just as he decides on getting up and telling everyone goodbye, other people around the table are standing, and some of the girls are fussing. Did someone else decide to leave before him? Even better, he can just tack onto someone else’s goodbye, slip out with even less attention on him. He gets out of his chair and realizes he’s fallen into a trap of sorts.

In the middle of all the commotion is Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend, bragging about her friend while wrapping her in a tight hug. The lead singer. She’s clearly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm, but gives the group a genuine smile.

“This is my boyfriend, Dakota, and these are a bunch of his teammates!” She rattles off their names, as if the singer will remember them, and Quinn feels something inside him ignite when he locks eyes with the girl again.

“Nice to meet you guys. Thanks for coming out! So glad I didn’t realize who you all were until now. I would’ve freaked out.” The singer’s smile turns shy, and Quinn sees a couple of the guys almost visibly puff up their chests, enjoying the recognition. He is too, sure, but he hopes it’s not too obvious.

“Big Canucks fan?” Joshua asks while slinging an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her closer.

“Born and raised. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a picture to send to my parents. They’re gonna lose their minds.”

Dakota’s girlfriend is already whipping out her phone before the singer can finish her sentence, gathering everyone into the frame. Conor, ever the meddler, shoves Quinn towards the center, and he ends up right next to the girl he’s been admiring all evening. He breathes in her clean, citrusy perfume, and isn’t sure he remembers to smile for the picture, dazed. Joshua’s girlfriend looks through the photos and seems pleased, so Quinn must look normal enough.

“They came out so cute! Y/N, do you have a favorite player? If he’s here let’s get a picture of just you two!”

The singer, Y/N, he mentally corrects, stammers out an excuse, but she seems to quickly learn the lesson Quinn learned in his earliest days in the sport. Give hockey players an obvious weak point, and they’ll exploit it, on or off the ice. A few of the guys tease, lightheartedly, but still pressing for an answer.

“Um… it’s 43. Hughes…” She’s avoiding his eye, and the guys are going wild, but Quinn hardly notices. He’s floating, mentally thanking every extra rep in the gym, every early practice, even his parents for loving the sport so much they passed it onto him. Quinn can’t help his small smirk as Joshua’s girlfriend gestures for Y/N to hand her phone over, opening the camera and telling them to get together and pose.

Quinn takes a step closer, hovering his arm around her waist, until he finally catches Y/N’s eye. He tilts his head, wordlessly questioning. She nods and wraps her own arm behind his back, so he lets his hand settle. It’s not hard to smile for the picture when he’s pressed against her side. His guys are jeering, but he pays them no mind as Y/N is handed back her phone. Now or never, probably, Quinn thinks to himself. So he dives.

“D’you mind sending those to me?” He asks, trying to keep his voice low amongst all the chaos of the group. He doesn’t exactly want commentary as he’s trying to shoot his shot.

Y/N blinks up at him, and he finds her visible confusion endearing.

“You want me to send you the pictures of us together?”

Quinn just nods. She blinks some more, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, sure, I can. Why?”

Quinn wishes he had some witty or charming response, but there’s something about her straightforwardness that disarms him. She doesn’t seem to realize how interested Quinn is, for better or for worse.

“Well,” He rubs the back of his neck, “It was the most casual way I could think of to ask for your number.”

At that, Y/N’s eyes widen, but she also smiles in a coy way that makes Quinn think he might be in over his head.

“Oh! Well, in that case, I’d be more than happy to send you those pictures.” She hands Quinn her phone, already open to a new contact, and he takes it from her outstretched hand.

“You guys did great up there, by the way. Especially for a first show. I never would’ve guessed.”

Y/N gives him that warm, happy smile, and he melts.

“Thank you! I haven’t performed in front of a crowd since middle school choir, so I’m honestly just proud I made it through the set at all.”

Quinn, once again, is floored. Sure, she seemed anxious at first, but he still gets visibly nervous before stepping on the ice all these years later. The idea of doing something for the very first time with so much grace makes him jealous, in a weird way. He doesn’t know how to express all that to a stranger, so he doesn’t.

“Really? You looked at home up there.”

Y/N’s gaze softens a bit, something that wasn’t quite shyness— maybe vulnerability— creeping in.

“That means a lot. It’s something I’ve always dreamed about, always craved. But I was too scared until really recently.”

“That’s really brave.” he responds, thrilled by her flushed cheeks and bashful smile.

“That’s funny,” Y/N says, taking a step closer, holding steady eye contact now, “I find it really brave to hold onto your childhood dreams. I never had that strength.”

Now Quinn is the one flushing. Of course, plenty of people praise his hard work, but many also say his success was handed to him. He’d never deny his good fortune; his amazing parents were certainly the foundation and entry point for his dream. But, he couldn’t have gotten to this point if it was just his parents’ dream for him. He held firm through a lot of exhaustion, pain, and uncertainty. Someone else acknowledging that makes all of the old feelings almost tangible. It’s an uncomfortable sensation for Quinn, one he doesn’t like to linger on.

“It takes a village.” He answers, trying to sound at ease. Y/N laughs.

“How diplomatic! I forget you guys get media trained.”

At that, Quinn laughs, too. He’s fascinated by the discerning sharpness that almost underscores the warmth and openness the girl projects. As if, somehow, she’s looking right through him, but she likes what she sees. He wants to see more of her, in turn.

“You’ll need some of that too, soon enough. I bet the band’s gonna get big.”

“Let me get used to playing in dive bars first, even just thinking about anything bigger is going to give me a panic attack for the foreseeable future.”

“You don’t wanna come sing the anthem at a game?” Quinn can’t help but tease, rewarded by Y/N’s eyes going wide.

“That honestly makes my knees weak. Do you ever get used to playing in front of all those people?”

Quinn tilts his head, considering his answer. He doesn’t want to sound full of himself, but he wants to be honest.

“A lot of times, I’m not really thinking about the audience. I’m just focused on the ice. But, when the crowd gets really worked up, it can definitely impact the game.”

Y/N nods, brow furrowed as she thinks over his answer.

“For better or for worse? Depends on where you are?”

“Yeah,” Quinn answers with a smile, but it’s tight around the edges. “Some places can be fun to play but not exactly welcoming.”

“That’s so interesting. I never thought about how much of the game is mental. No wonder you guys try to be so even-tempered in interviews and stuff.”

Quinn’s lips lift into a smirk.

“You watch a lot of my interviews?”

Y/N huffs, rolling her eyes, but he sees her cheeks darken a bit.

“Oh, hush. I mean, like, whoever gets star of the game or whatever. Always giving generic answers.”

She’s certainly not wrong. Quinn wants to keep talking, but the bass player of the band steps into the conversation, with an impish smile and hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Y/N, do you still want a ride? I’m about to head out.”

“Yes, please.” Y/N replies, and if Quinn wants to believe there’s a bit of reluctance in her tone, he will. She turns back to him with an apologetic smile that certainly helps his interpretation. “It was really nice meeting all of you guys. Thanks again for coming out. We’ll absolutely be bragging at every show about how the Canucks were at our very first gig.”

“Of course,” Quinn replies. “We’ll have to get you guys out to a game soon.”

“A cultural exchange, of sorts.” The bassist chimes in with a laugh. Y/N shakes her head, but Quinn laughs along.

“Exactly! See you guys around.”

If he watches the two girls walk away, heart thudding when Y/N looks over her shoulder to wave goodbye, that’s between him… and Conor, who scurried over the second the musicians walked away to clap a hand on Quinn’s shoulder and shout something that sounded vaguely like “Attaboy!”. He must’ve had a few more rounds after the show ended.

—

A few days later, Quinn’s just getting home from an early morning practice when his phone buzzes. He mindlessly opens the notification, not realizing it was a text from an unsaved number until he’s staring at pictures of him and Y/N, with a caption that makes the corner of his lips raise. He saves the contact, and pretends he’s not looking at the photos some more.

From: Y/N 🎤

so… when’s the next game? :)

To: Y/N 🎤

Coincidentally, tomorrow. You guys free?

Quinn busies himself with preparing lunch, refusing to sit idle by his phone, as much as he wants to. When he sits down with his food a while later, he allows himself a glance at his messages, as a reward for his restraint.

we don’t have to do the anthem, right?

Not this time. Just show up and have fun. As long as we get some tickets to the next gig, of course

well then… i’d love to!

everyone else says they already have plans :(

Quinn takes a deep, calming breath, trying to summon up some courage. He thinks of Y/N, wide eyed and beautiful, calling him brave, but the image actually makes him more nervous. He shoots off a text anyway, before he can overthink it too much.

Tough crowd. But you still wanna go? We could grab dinner or drinks after

He does a few laps around his apartment, wearing down his rug a bit more, before his phone buzzes. Quinn’s not proud of how quickly he dives back onto the couch, but at least no one is around to see.

i was hoping you’d say that :)

see you then!

Well, that settles that. Quinn does a few more nervous laps, suddenly feeling keyed up despite very recently finishing a grueling practice. He’s trying to mentally settle himself before he does something dumb, like tear through his closet and stare at every game day suit he has and decide he hates them all. But, he’s not quite sure where to put all the nervous energy he has. He forces himself to sit back down, thumbs moving across his phone screen.

Need any gear? I can have someone bring you some

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that compelled him to ask. But it grows when, a few minutes later, Y/N answers. It’s another picture, but not from the other night. A mirror selfie. She’s in leggings and a Canucks jersey, facing forward but twisted just enough for Quinn to read the backwards 43 on her arm. His stomach soars, or free falls, he’s not quite sure which.

[image]

born and raised fan, remember? my parents would disown me if i showed up to a game without a jersey

He decides to play it cool, trying to slow his heart rate by joking around.

Looks good, outdated though. Gotta get a C patch

Y/N’s response is quick, like she’d been waiting around for his reaction. Quinn tries not to think about it too hard, tries not to put too much stake into all of these little signs that a girl like Y/N is interested in him.

🙄 not all of us have an equipment team

I’ll take care of it. See you tomorrow, Y/N

see yaaaaaa

good luck! 🍀

Quinn swears he moves through the rest of his day like normal. He goes through the motions, and he tries to pay as little attention as possible to his wandering thoughts. He’s used to fixating on hockey, trying to predict how games will go. Forecasting what will go right, and, maybe more importantly, what will go wrong. He’s built his career off of his attention to detail, his extra effort. It’s easy, and comfortable, to prepare for games with his team. As the hours go by, inching ever closer to puck drop, he can’t deny his excitement. For the opportunity to keep playing the game he loves, with his guys, for their fans. And maybe, just maybe, he also pictures Y/N, swathed in one of his jerseys with red cheeks from the cold of the rink, wearing that bright smile. He thinks about taking her on a date after the game, and how badly he wants to impress her, like she impressed him with her music. Thank goodness, he’s been working all his life to rise to the occasion when he’s out on the ice.

hiding a playlist/song recs in this fic bc i love u all.. songs directly referenced are fade into you by mazzy star, aftertaste by katie gavin (title inspo!), and juna by clairo! the "original song" is actually starling by sarah kinsley, and her music is GORGEOUS i highly recommend if you like indie singer/songwriter vibes.

some other artists i'd recommend you listen to ~for the vibes~:

phoebe bridgers, boygenius, mitski, fiona apple, and the newest beabadoobee album was super inspirational for this!!

if u made it this far you should send me a song rec of your own hehe

#quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #qh43 #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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lukolabrainrot · 2 months ago

Note

Calm theory anon here again!! Lord knows I'm exhausted of this little girl but I wanted to touch on what all we have seen since Italy Birthday trip and Lukes recent like. 1. It was reported by someone who took a photo with Luke at the airport that he was alone. Meaning he flew back by himself. Rumor that he left two days before 2. We got radio silence from the group for a while. 3. Rory unfollowed sienna then it was reported on by the fan pages and then he followed her back. 4. Sienna unfollowed Jack Vine (this is the guy that Luke stays with when he didn't have a house) then it was reported on by the fan pages and she followed him back. The last couple days she's unfollowed him again. 5. Charmaine reposted on TikTok about NDA👀 6. Rory takes a trip with his mom. 7. Sienna likes a post of Hannah Dodd and Nicola from fashion week. 8. Sienna hasn't liked any type of photos of A since early August nor did she like that last Luke post. Now with all this information I'm sure we all can come up with some conclusions. I do think that Luke set up some type of NDA which in my opinion was necessary. We have to remember that Luke's management team is actually a very well-known and establish team this was told to me by people in the PR field. He doesn't have newbies. Now I'm sure that pissed a lot of his friends off. It made them keep quiet about things that they might not have wanted to be quiet about. We clearly see something going on. Now Luke liking A stuff. it was 10 1/2 hours after she posted on her grid with a story posted after four hours of the photos being live. Now the posting to her stories of the grid picture is a new thing. That didn't start till after Italy. What does that tell me? She knows that his notifications for her has been probably turned off. So in order for him to see her photos, she would have to post it in her story which he most likely watches those. This particular photo wasn't liked until after Nicola posted at the concert. I don't believe in coincidences. He got a notification that Nicole posted. Then he went online afterwards watching Nicola story. Now who to say it's not part of his NDA that he has with her that. But as I was thinking about all of this today, one of the interviews that Nic and Luke came to mind. When they were discussing red flags. And one of the questions was keeping up with an ex. Nic said something like I feel that how you speak of your ex says a lot about you or something like that. Remember, Luke listens to every single thing that Nikola has said. She's the one person in this world that he remembers how they met down to the chairs they had sat on. So he would remember stuff like this. So it could be an NDA thing or it could be him trying to be civil with his ex. Regardless of the like which does not tell you anything. The only thing that tells me is she is desperate for that like. She has to put it in her story so that he will see it, she wants that like so bad that she's doing something she never had to do before. Why does she want the like so bad? Because she can control the fandom. Every time Luke likes this girls picture people spiral. it's like on a photo. He's not commenting on it. He's not giving her heart eyes. He's not sharing it to his stories. He liked the picture. We don't know the reason why and we will never know. All I'm saying there is a lot going on BTS that's clearly evident by how they're all moving. We just gotta wait for Nicola to speak more. Remember, her voice should always outshine this girl's voice. Nicola has given us all hints that something more is happening. Let's trust her please

As always, love your thoughts and theories!

Here are some additional theories/thoughts I have about the SM events from today. Disclaimer: These are just my thoughts and interpretations based on all the publicly available information I have seen recently. So please do not take this as 100% fact!

N didn't post her Chappell Roan story until almost midnight her time

L THEN preceded to like A's post approximately 30 minutes after N's CR story- which at that point was technically the day AFTER A made her post

So my little delulu theory is that N went home to L after the concert with her besties, they cuddled up and caught up, N posted her story, this made L log on to IG and prompted him to do his obligatory like of miss A's post after seeing A's story

Some additional notes/thoughts:

Even if N DIDN'T go home to L, all of the available information Calm Theory Anon and I have laid out here tells me this. L DOES NOT HAVE NOTIFICATIONS ON FOR A AND IS NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE IS POSTING. L IS DOING THIS WITH N THOUGH.

He also liked A's post within a really short time of N's CR story. Now, the only thing this definitively says is that L/N were on their IG accounts around the same period of time. But this was around 12:30 AM their time. It was pretty late at night, and like it's just an interestingggg coincidence if L/N were separate and just both getting on SM around the same time at that time at night. We also know N tends to go on SM when she is getting ready for bed (N has said this). And she posted the CR story around the time she most likely was getting home from the concert. I think there are just a lot of signs/clues pointing that L/N were together around midnight their time. And L was NOT at the CR concert, so that means she would have met up with L AFTER the concert. And if she was meeting L after the concert at that time at night, they were probably with each other the rest of the night. So this is what leads me to believe that N went home to L OR L got the notification for N's story and got on SM and saw A's story. The timing of it all is just very interestingggg to me 🤔

Lastly, A had to essentially BEG L for this like. Why does L still have to like her posts? I have no definitive answer. My thoughts are it's some sort of contractual agreement. Regardless, these likes have no direct indication of L/A's relationship BTS. If I look at the full picture of EVERYTHING, all the signs indicate that L/N are spending more time together (or just since August decided to start publicly hinting to the fandom that they are spending a lot of time together). And all the signs point to L/A not being on good terms, and that there was some sort of rupture in L's friend group around the Italy bday trip.

These are just my thoughts though. What does everyone else think?

#calm theory anon #lukola theories #just some thoughts #🐜

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mariacallous · 1 year ago

Text

The great fault of the global left is not that it supports Hamas. For how could Western left-wing movements or left-inclining charities or academic bodies truly support Hamas if they were serious about their politics?

No one outside the most reactionary quarters of Islam shares Hamas’s aim of forcing the peoples of the world to accept “the sovereignty of Islam” or face “carnage, displacement and terror” if they refuse. You cannot be a progressive and campaign for a state that executes gay men. An American left, which includes in its ranks the Queers for Palestine campaign group, cannot seriously endorse lethal homophobia in its own country. They will turn a blind eye in Palestine, as we shall see, but not in New York or Chicago.

Finally, no left organisation proudly honours the Protocols of the Elders of Zion and the fascist tradition that Hamas embraces with such sinister gusto, although in a sign of a decay that has been building on the left for more than a generation, many will promulgate left-wing conspiracy theories which are as insane as their fascist counterparts.

No, the problem with the global left is that it is not serious about politics. It “fellow travels” with radical Islam rather than supports it. The concept of “fellow travelling,” with its suggestions of tourism, dilettantism, and privilege, is well worth reviving. The phrase comes from the Bolsheviks. After the Russian Revolution of 1917 they looked with appreciation on Westerners who supported them without ever endorsing communism. Artists, writers, and academics who were disgusted with the West, often for good reason, I should add, were quite happy to justify Soviet communism and cover up its crimes without ever becoming communists themselves.

Leon Trotsky put it best when he said of fellow travellers that the question was always “how far would they go”? As long as they did not have live under the control of communists in the 1920s or the control of Islamists in the 2020s, the answer appears to be: a very long way indeed

W.H. Auden said, as he looked back with some contempt on his fellow travelling past, if Britain or the United States or any country he and his friends knew were taken over by a “successful communist revolution with the same phenomena of terror, purges, censorship etc., we would have screamed our heads off”. But as communism happened in backward Russia “a semi-barbarous country which had experienced neither the Renaissance nor the Enlightenment”, they could ignore its crimes in the interests of seeing the capitalist enemy defeated.

You see the same pattern of lies and indulgence in the case of Hamas. Journalists have produced a multitude of examples of fellow travelling since 7 October but let one meeting of the Oakland City Council in the Bay area of San Francisco speak for them all.

A council member wanted the council to pass a motion that condemned the killings and hostage-taking by Hamas, who, in case we forget, prompted the war that has devastated Gaza, by massacring Israeli civilians. The motion got nowhere

According to one speaker Hamas did not massacre anyone, a modern variant of Holocaust denial that is becoming endemic. “There have not been beheadings of babies and rapings,” a woman said at the meeting. “Israel murdered their own people on October 7.” Another woman said that calling Hamas a terrorist organization is “ridiculous, racist and plays into the genocidal propaganda that is flooding our media.” Hamas was the “armed wing of the unified Palestinian resistance” , said a third who clearly had no knowledge of the civil war between Hamas and Fatah.

“To condemn Hamas was very anti-Arab racist” cried a fourth. The meeting returned to modern Holocaust denial as a new speaker said the Israeli Defence Forces had murdered their own people and it was “bald propaganda” to suggest otherwise. A man intervened to shout that “to hear them complain about Hamas violence is like listening to a wifebeater complain when his wife finally stands up and fights back”.

Anyone who contradicted him was a “white supremacist.”

Of course they were.

Now if theocrats were to establish an Islamist tyranny in the Bay area, I am sure every single speaker would scream their heads off, as Auden predicted. They can turn into fellow travellers as there is no more of a prospect of theocracy threatening them than there was of communism threatening readers of the left-wing press in the UK and US in the 1930s.

A serious left would have plenty to complain about. Consider the Israeli position after the breakdown of the ceasefire. The Israeli state is led by Benjamin Netanyahu, a catastrophe of a prime minister, who left his people exposed to the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. His war aims are contradictory: you cannot both wipe out Hamas and free the hostages.

Worst of all, the Israeli defence forces are to move to the southern Gaza strip where two million Palestinians are crammed. Just war doctrine holds that a military action must have a reasonable chance of success if the suffering is to be permitted. How, reasonably, can the Israeli army expect to find guerilla fighters hiding in a terrified population? ��According to leaks in the Israeli media, Anthony Blinken, the US Secretary of state, was warning the Israeli government that, “You can’t operate in southern Gaza in the way you did in the north. There are two million Palestinians there.” But he was ignored. A radical movement worth having would surely be putting pressure on the Biden administration to force Israel to listen to its concerns.

The radical movement we have will not engage in practical politics because compromise is anathema to it. Any honest account of the war would have to admit that Israel has the right to defend itself against attack. It is just that the military position it finds itself in now may well make its war aims impossible and therefore immoral.

You can see why practical politics has no appeal. Where is the violent satisfaction in sober analysis, the drama in compromise? Where is the Manichean distinction between the absolute good of the Palestinians and the pure evil of Israel?

Meanwhile, ever since the Israeli victory in the Six Day War of 1967, you have been able to say that Jewish settler sites on the West Bank were placed there deliberately to make a peace settlement impossible, and ensure that Israel controlled all the territory from “the river to the sea” forever.

A serious left might try to revive a two-state solution by building an international consensus that the settlements must go. Once again, however, that is too tame an aim. For the fellow traveller watching Palestine from a safe distance, satisfaction comes only by embracing Hamas’s call for the destruction of Israel. Some progressives try to dress up the urge to destroy by pretending that Jews and Palestinians will go on to live together in some happy-clappy, multi-ethnic and multi-confessional state. But most must know they are advocating a war to the death. What makes their position so disreputable is that, if they thought about it calmly, they would know it would be a war that only Israel could win. It is the Israelis who have the nuclear weapons, after all.

The worst of the global left is dilettantish. It advocates a maximalist position which has a minimal chance of success - just for the thrill of it. David Caute, a historian of fellow travelling with Stalin and communism said that the endorsement of communism by fellow travelling intellectuals in the West “deepened the despair” of Soviet intellectuals. “In their darkest hours they heard themselves condemned by their own kind”.

The 2020s are not the 1930s. I am sure that, if I were a Palestinian in Gaza, my sole concern would be the removal of Israeli forces that threatened me and my family. I would either not care about demonstrations in the West or I would receive some comfort from the knowledge that people all over the world were protesting on my behalf.

Nevertheless, a kind of betrayal is still at work. By inflaming and amplifying the worst elements in Palestine the global left is giving comfort to the worst elements in Israel, which are equally determined to make a compromise impossible.

The New Statesman made that point well when it ran a piece by Celeste Marcus. She came from the Zionist far right, and was taught doctrines that dehumanised Palestinians. She grew up and grew away from the prejudices of her childhood and became a liberal. But after she moved into her new world, she “recognised immediately that progressive leftists feel about Israelis the way radical Zionists feel about Palestinians: these are not real people.”

The result is that for all its power on the streets and in academia the global left is almost an irrelevance.

“To influence Israel,” she writes, “one must be willing to recognise it. Since leftist leaders cannot bother to do this, they cannot be of real use to Palestinians. This is a betrayal of their own cause.”

The dilettantism of fellow travelling always ends in betrayal and denial for the reason Auden gave: terror is always more tolerable when it happens far, far away.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 5 months ago

Text

Midnight | Chapter 23 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - the last part of this chapter is mostly taken from the first chapter with some additions. We’ve come full circle now! Things speed up a little now. Summary - Luke and the rest of the BAU make strides in their investigation. Meanwhile, Spencer’s paranoia reaches fever pitch and he makes a decision for your future which could lead to your inevitable capture.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - paranoid Spencer, mentions of past child abuse, pregnancy, Spencer giving up, swearing, guns, explosions.

WC - 5.3k

Chapter 23 - Catch Me if You Can

It was two weeks after arriving home from New York that things started to fall into place.

Luke had convinced Emily to sign off on the request for extra security footage from Caesars Palace which had enabled him to track Spencer leaving the hotel room and into the parking garage which gave him a car licence plate of a Chevy Impala for which they’d had an APB out on ever since.

Luke had also discovered, through trawling police databases, two more bodies with similar MO’s to Green, Smith and Carlisle. Again it didn’t mean they were connected but it was certainly a pattern. Mary Dalton’s body had still not been found.

But the strangest part had happened this morning when Luke walked into the round table room to find the rest of the team already there, a photograph of a middle aged man on the big screen and case files littering the table.

JJ, Garcia, Emily and Rossi exchanged looks and seemed to be communicating between themselves without the use of words while Matt, Tara and now Luke himself looked on like the outsiders.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Luke sidled up to a free chair but didn’t sit down, instead he gripped the back of it while his eyes flicked between the four veteran agents.

“This man went missing two weeks ago. He left work on a Friday and was never seen again.” Emily pointed at the screen, her tone was a combination of frustration and dread.

“Until this morning.” Rossi added. “Some campers stumbled upon his body in the Mojave National Preserve in California.”

“He was stabbed forty three times.” JJ added, her brows pinched together.

“Do we have other bodies matching the MO? Surely we haven’t been called in for a single homicide?” Luke frowned, still looking between the four of them.

“We haven’t been called in at all.” Emily spoke again.

“Ok, someone needs to fill us in because there is clearly something you guys aren’t saying.” Tara vocalised before Luke had a chance.

Again the four of them exchanged looks, clearly trying to discern who would be the one to speak. Luke’s grip on the chair tightened, he knew whatever they said wasn’t going to be good.

“It’s less about the what and more about the who.” Rossi ran his hand over his greying facial hair.

Luke, Tara and Matt remained silent.

“This,” Emily pointed at the screen again. “This is William Reid.”

Luke’s eyes bulged a little, focusing on the photograph of the older man. There was something familiar about him, something in the eyes that Luke recognised distantly. And now he knew why.

“William Reid.” He croaked, his mouth suddenly dry. “As in…?”

“Spencer’s father.” Emily nodded.

“You think Reid killed his own dad?” Matt shook his head. “No, I don’t buy that.”

“William went missing the weekend Spencer and Y/N were in Nevada.” Garcia rolled her lip between her teeth.

“That has to be a coincidence. Why would he kill his father?” Tara sounded just as disbelieving as Matt.

Luke stayed silent, unable to form any words that would be helpful in this situation. JJ let out a shaky breath, stepping slightly closer to the table. Her eyes were downturned, she looked to be fighting some kind of internal battle.

“God I’d hoped I’d never have to repeat this.” She sniffed. “Years ago he confided in me. His father…he, uh, he sexually abused Spence. Probably other kids too. He told me once while he was high and I’m not even sure he remembers telling me. But I never forgot.”

Luke, Tara and Matt turned to her with wide eyes and slack jaws. Judging by the lack of surprise on the faces of the other agents, she’d already imparted this piece of information on them.

“Seriously?” Matt’s eyebrows were knitted deeply together.

“Yeah, I wish it wasn’t true, trust me.” JJ swallowed, pouting her bottom lip.

“Does this get us any closer to finding them?” Luke tried to stay on track and not get dragged into thoughts of a young Spencer suffering at the hands of his father.

“This doesn't, no.” Emily shook her head. Luke sensed there was more.

“But…?” He goaded someone to speak.

“Garcia has finally found where they brought the Impala. It was a small used car lot in Cedar Rapids. Reid used a licence with the name Samuel Truman which we have attributed to multiple motel check ins across the country.” Rossi spoke.

“It’s not yet pointed to where they are, but we’re getting closer.” Garcia looked at him with the most kindness she’d ever directed towards him. “We will find them, Alvez.”

Luke felt a pit forming in his stomach. This was the closest they’d been to finding you and Spencer and he should be positive. But he had a sinking feeling that no matter how many leads they found it would never be enough.

Maybe he’d never be able to free you from Spencer and it probably made him a fool for still trying. But he had to try and stay focused, and had to believe their break in the case would come. If he succumbed to the negative thoughts that were trying to consume him, he may never make it back.

And he had to do this for you.

***

Spencer had been on edge since you’d been to Vegas. His paranoia was getting the better of him, eating him away from the inside out.

He was absolutely certain the BAU were involved in Jesse’s reappearance and he’d spent the last few weeks trying to piece together all the ways this could blow up in both of your faces.

He kept detailed lists of all the ways the BAU could find you, any innocuous piece of information which could give you away. He barely left the house and when he did he was constantly looking over his shoulder. The Impala had been parked in the garage since Vegas in case it could be used to track the two of you down.

He’d been anxious to say the least. He jumped when he heard the mailman, dashed to the window every time a car drove by the house. He wasn’t sleeping, nowhere near as much as he should anyway. You were starting to worry that he was devolving. And it hit a fever pitch nearly three weeks after your return from Vegas.

You’d grown used to being alone in bed when you woke in the morning, usually finding Spencer in the living room staring at the front door with the SIG in his hand. This morning the living room was empty, as was the kitchen. And then you noticed the garage door was open.

Padding inside in confusion, you found him slinging a suitcase into the trunk of the Impala. You folded your arms over your chest, a frown embedded deep in your forehead as you watched him close the trunk and turn to face you.

“Oh good you’re awake.” He nodded at you, seemingly ignoring your confusion. “Get dressed, we need to leave.”

“Leave? Where are we going?” Your frown only deepened.

“I have no idea. But we have to go. The BAU will find us if we stay still for too long.” He picked another bag up off the ground and opened the back door of the car before tossing it in the back seat.

“So you’re proposing we just keep moving? We’re never going to settle down somewhere?”

“Not for the time being, no. Once we’ve got them off our backs we’ll make a long term plan. Once they aren’t on our tails we can look into fleeing the country. But right now we have to keep moving, yes.” He spoke as though his words were making perfect sense.

“Spencer, we don’t even know that they are on our backs. You’re being paranoid.” You unfolded your arms and tried to reason with him.

“I’m not taking any risks.” He shook his head. “They could come storming into this house at any minute. We’re sitting ducks, Y/N. I’m not making it that easy on them. So get dressed so we can leave.”

The last thing you wanted was to constantly be on the run, bouncing from city to city and never being able to put down roots. But of course with the things the two of you had done that was never going to be a realistic path.

You didn’t really think the BAU were onto you but there was a small possibility Spencer was right and running would be safer than the alternative. So instead of arguing, you simply nodded before turning on your heels and heading back inside the house to dress.

Half an hour later the two of you were in the car and heading east, no real destination in mind. You were gone like the wind.

***

Penelope tottered as fast as humanly possible towards the round table room, huffing and puffing and making little squeaking sounds under her breath. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor in the bullpen as she hurriedly made her way through the desks.

It had been a week since the discovery of William Reid’s body and nearly three weeks since she’d put the APB out on the Chevy Impala. This morning she’d gotten a hit on the APB from a speed camera on the I-95 as the vehicle headed east from

California. The team had been working all morning on trying to ascertain where you and Spencer might be headed.

But Garcia had found the smoking gun.

She quickened her pace up the stairs and along the corridor, bursting into the room at the end and desperately trying to catch her breath while the rest of the team turned to look at her. She fought to calm her breathing, still making strange noises and her hands were shaking.

“Garcia,” Emily spoke somewhat sternly. “What’s going on?”

“The thing…” Garcia panted, waving her hand in the air. “I found the thing.”

“What thing?” Tara frowned at the blonde.

“The thing. The thing we’ve been waiting for.” She took a few deep breaths, leaning against the door frame. “I know where Spencer and Y/N are.”

Six sets of eyes widened on her as she tried to calm her erratic breathing so she could fill them in on her findings. Luke slowly rose to his feet and moved closer to her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“You found them?” He forced her to look at him and she nodded frantically.

“The car…” she began between heavy pants. “Was seen just outside of Phoenix. And Samuel Truman just checked into a motel in Cave Creek which is like…thirty miles north of Phoenix. They’re in Arizona.”

Luke’s arms fell back to his sides and he stumbled a little on his feet. He’d been waiting for this day but he’d never truly believed it would come. He glanced back at the rest of his team who were all slowly getting to their feet.

“We found them.” Luke croaked, still sounded unbelieving of his own words.

“Well done Garcia.” Emily smiled at the tech analyst, before turning to address the rest of her team. “Wheels up. And not in twenty, now. Spencer Reid killed his father and Mary Dalton, probably more. We find him, we most likely find the murder weapon and we can build a case from there.”

“What’s going to happen to Y/N? She’s technically an accomplice, right?” Luke looked and sounded downtrodden.

“I don’t know, Alvez.” Emily shrugged. “But right now our focus is Reid. We can worry about what will happen to Y/N later.”

With that Emily fled the room, the team following behind until Luke was left alone. It was easy enough for her to say they’d worry about you later but he hadn’t stopped worrying about you since the day you’d left the BAU.

But he knew capturing Spencer was the main priority. And once they did Luke would continue on his mission of protecting you to the bitter end.

***

You stood in the grimy bathroom of a seedy bar just down the road from the motel you’d stopped at on the outskirts of Cave Creek. You stared down at the item resting on the side of the sink through teary eyes.

Since Vegas you’d been focused solely on Spencer and his devolution, you’d been so preoccupied you’d completely forgotten the thought Jesse had put in your head.

It wasn’t until earlier that day when Spencer had stopped for gas and you’d found yourself in the bathroom on your knees with your head in the toilet bowl that it all came flooding back. While Spencer had been busy filling up the car you quickly purchased the test and stuffed it inside your purse.

Now you were standing over the sink staring at the positive pregnancy test.

It hadn’t even occurred to you to take the test at the motel. You’d stayed only long enough to drop your bags and then you told Spencer you needed some air before you found the closest building with a bathroom.

You’d already been fairly certain of what the outcome of the test would be and you needed time to gather your thoughts and feelings before you told

Spencer the news.

How the hell was this going to work? Spencer planned to pull out every trick in the book to stay one step ahead of the BAU no matter the cost. The two of you would be on the run for the rest of your lives, how could you possibly bring a child into that life?

You knew he deserved to know, it was his child after all. But how was this going to factor into his escape plans? How would you and this baby fit into this? It was one thing for him to be bringing you along on this but a child certainly wasn’t part of his idea.

You picked up the test as your tears overflowed. What did this mean for your future? If you even had one.

***

Spencer stared at his reflection in the mirror, knowing it was only a matter of time. He’d told you he planned to run, and continue doing so until the heat died down but he’d been lying to you, something he’d promised never to do again.

But the truth was Spencer hadn’t fled California in the hopes of out running the BAU, he’d been purposefully trying to draw them out.

He knew they would have figured out what car he was driving and would have a bulletin out on it. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the Impala was caught on camera and the BAU were alerted. He also knew they would have found where he brought the car which was why he’d checked into this motel under the same name he’d purchased the car.

The fact of the matter was, Spencer was too tired to keep this up any longer. He wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life on the run. He’d accepted his fate, he just hoped you would understand. Although he didn’t intend to be around to find out one way or another.

If he’d told you his true intentions there was no way you would have agreed to flea Twentynine Palms. He hadn’t wanted to lie to you again but this was for the best. As long as you were smart enough to talk your way out of everything, to put all the blame on his shoulders so you could get out of this and go onto live your life then that’s all that mattered.

Spencer Reid wasn’t afraid of death.

He wasn’t going to allow the BAU to arrest him, certainly not. But he knew you’d never willingly leave his side and so this was the only way he could think to get you away from him.

It was his way of protecting you. He knew you’d follow him to the ends of the earth and it just wasn’t fair on you. This was his only option to save you.

It would only be a matter of time before the BAU had this place surrounded, he imagined they were probably already on their way here now. He just had to bide his time now. It was simply a waiting game.

Come on guys, I’m making it real easy on you. Catch me if you can.

***

The minute the jet came to a stop on the tarmac, six bodies were already standing and heading to the doors. Two SUV’s awaited them along with a few local cop cars.

Emily was quick to dish out the Kevlar vests which they all hurriedly secured before splitting into two teams: Luke, Tara and JJ taking one car and Emily, Rossi and Matt having the other. Before her team could jump in the vehicles she gathered them around.

“It is imperative we tread lightly here.” She looked at each one of them individually. “We apprehend them so we can make our case against them. Spencer’s not stupid, once we have them in custody he knows it will only be a matter of time before we gather enough evidence to send him down. Hopefully he will save us the trouble and confess to everything.”

“Stop saying them.” Luke shook his head. “I’m not going to let Y/N go down for things Reid has done.”

“And hopefully she’ll cooperate too and tell us what we need to know. But for now Alvez, she’s just as liable as Spencer. I want them both in custody and then we can go from there.” Emily gave him a look that told Luke not to fight her on this.

He clenched his jaw firmly and took a step backwards.

“Fine.” He spat, knowing now wasn’t the time to get into an argument with her about this.

“Right, let's get this show on the road.” She looked over her shoulder and gave the local cops a nod of her head as the team split apart, hopping into their separate vehicles.

Luke got behind the wheel even though he knew he was in no state of mind to drive but he hoped it would try and focus his mind. Tara got in the backseat while JJ sat up front with Luke. As he started the engine, he was momentarily halted by JJ’s gentle touch on his tense shoulder.

“She’s going to be ok.” JJ told him as if she knew this for a fact. But her tone paired with the look she was giving him almost made Luke believe her.

He nodded, exhaled noisily through his nose. And then he put the car in drive and peeled away from the airstrip, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

***

You watched as Spencer stumbled on his feet as the realisation washed over him. His eyes were flitting between your face and your stomach for what felt like a lifetime.

When you’d dragged yourself back to the motel armed with your news, you hadn’t expected to tell him in this way. This news was so much bigger than these crumbling four walls. But you also hadn’t expected him to be on the brink of throwing in the towel, ready to give up. You had to give him something to fight for.

The seconds seemed like hours as he continued to look between your eyes and your belly. Long, painful seconds in which you had no idea what he was thinking or feeling.

“Say something,” you choked on a sob, hands coming to cradle your stomach out of instinct.

Spencer opened his mouth before quickly closing it again, rolling his bottom lip briefly between his teeth before trying to find his words once more. Again, he opened and closed his mouth, the only discernible sound was a small whimper he let leave his parted lips. His hands were noticeably jittering, his thumb tapping against the side of his thigh as if the rhythm was helping calm him.

You stared at Spencer, waiting for him to speak, begging him with your eyes to say anything, anything other than just staring at you this way. You watched his eyes flit from your face to your stomach and back again several more times before they finally settled on your eyes.

“You’re…?” He croaked hoarsely. “We’re…?”

“Yes.” You nodded, using one hand to wipe the tears that were hindering your vision. “Eleven weeks.”

He opened his mouth to speak again but this time before he could get any words out he heard something off in the distance. Judging by the way your eyes widened, you heard it too. Your tears fell heavier and Spencer turned back to the window, creeping towards it and cracking the curtains barely an inch. The pitch black desert was lit up by the unmistakable blue halos, somewhere far off but certainly heading your way. The wail of the sirens quickly grew louder as they closed in on the motel.

“Shit.” He spat, hurriedly pulling the curtains again and turning to regard you. “Shit.”

“This can’t be how it ends.” You held your stomach tighter, even more tears now breaking free.

Spencer made quick work of crossing the room to you and placing his large hands over your smaller, delicate ones. His own eyes gave away to his fear, and if Spencer was scared you knew to be petrified. Spencer Reid was scared of nothing.

“I won’t let it, I’ll think of something.” He closed his eyes like that might help him form a coherent thought.

Wake up, snap out of it. Or you may well never wake up again.

His earlier conviction for his death at the hands of law enforcement had flown out the window the second you’d shared your news. He couldn’t exit this mortal coil in such a way, not now he had a child on the way. He was not leaving his child like his own father had abandoned him. There had to be a way. There just had to be.

It was funny how one simple thing could change his mind so drastically. Spencer had been sure he was ready for where this was heading, ready to stop running, to stop fighting the inevitable. He didn’t think anything or anyone could change his mind. But this wasn’t just about him or you anymore. There was so much more on the line. Getting caught suddenly wasn’t an option.

The sirens grew louder and he could hear the gravel under tires as the vehicles got closer. The blue light of the flashing beacons bathed the room ominously, he could see it even behind his closed lids.

“Spencer!” You cried, jiggling up and down. “Spencer, do something!”

His eyes shot open and landed on the timepiece hanging on the wall. As he watched the clock roll to midnight, Spencer knew whatever he did next he had to be sure of. If he wasn’t then the three of you might not make it out of this alive. In a perfect world, you would all get away, but as long as Spencer could secure your safety then he would have to be ok with that. As long as you lived to bring their child into the world he could worry about everything else later.

But he had to do everything in his power for all three of you to make it out of this.

“Spencer!” You screamed as the sirens reached fever pitch, tires screeching on the asphalt outside as multiple vehicles came to abrupt stops outside the window.

The blue light completely encompassed the room, glowing harshly against your skin. Car doors started to slam closed and heavy footsteps on the gravelly parking lot got closer. He was sure he could hear weapons being drawn, sharp intakes of breath as the people outside his room took aim.

“Spencer Reid, we know you’re in there.” A voice sounded over a megaphone, causing you to gasp in recognition. “Spencer, we just want to help you, please?”

Emily Prentiss’ tone was stern yet held the sadness of chasing one of her own. You looked petrified and that was only intensified when Spencer started smiling. He surprised you when he took off past you back towards the bathroom. Frowning, you quickly followed.

“What are you doing? Spencer!” You chased after him and found him standing in the bathtub on his tiptoes and toying with a vent above the shower head.

You watched in confusion as he made quick work of the four screws holding the vent in place before yanking it off the wall and tossing it aside. He turned back to you with a smile.

“You think I didn’t scope out an escape route?” He chuckled, holding out his hand for you which you took as you stepped into the tub. “It’s just big enough for a human body to fit through on their front. It’s a straight path, the vent on the outside is already loosened, I made sure of it. As soon as you’re out, you’re going to run. Run as fast as you fucking can and do not look back. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Spencer Reid! If you can hear me, you need to come out with your hands up!” Emily’s voice sounded angrier now and he knew he didn’t have much time.

“What about you? You’ll be right behind me, right?” You grabbed his face in your hands, cloying to him like he was your only lifeline.

“Don’t worry about me, princess.” He smiled, bowing his head to capture your lips in a chaste kiss as he placed his hand on your belly. “I need you to focus on yourself and this little one.”

“Spencer, do not get yourself killed.” You sobbed. “We can’t do this without you.”

“And you won’t.” He tried to insist, although he wasn’t entirely sure of that fact himself. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

He kissed you again, this time laced with slightly more passion. Then he took a step back in the tub, bent down and placed a kiss on your stomach.

“Reid, if you don’t come out in the next sixty seconds we will breach the room.” This time it was Luke’s voice that permeated your momentary solitude.

“Spencer, I’m scared.” You whimpered when he stood back to his full height.

“I know. But trust me when I say, everything will be ok.” He wiped your tears once more whilst reaching behind himself with his free hand.

When he grasped your wrist and placed his firearm in your palm, you gasped, shaking your head frantically.

“Spence?”

“Take it, just in case.” He curled your fingers around it before ushering you towards the vent.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you from behind, closer to the vent opening. You turned your head and placed one last kiss on his lips.

“I lo…” you choked, quickly correcting yourself. “You’re my partner in crime, Spencer Reid.”

“And you’re mine. But I promise you I will see you sooner than you think.” He hoisted you higher and you tossed the gun up inside the vent before reaching out and grabbing the ledge.

He knew it wasn’t a promise he could keep, you probably knew it too, but he hoped it helped in any small way.

You pulled yourself up with Spencer’s help and wriggled onto your stomach in the small opening. When his hands left your body you suddenly felt desperately alone, wanting to immediately drop back down, fall into his arms and never let him go.

“Go, Y/N, please. You have to go.” He encouraged you.

“Thirty seconds, Reid! Don’t be stupid. Come out with your hands up!” Luke’s voice engulfed you both and with a small whimper you started to crawl forward down the vent, leaving half of your heart behind.

Spencer bent down and retrieved his second weapon from its hiding place inside his boot. He only had seconds to pull off a miracle. If this went wrong he would be killed, or worse, arrested.

Quickly stepping out of the tub and opening the cabinet beneath the sink he pulled out the large canister he’d stashed under there earlier in the day. It had been his back plan of sorts, if for whatever reason he changed his mind and decided to fight this. And now he was glad he’d had the forethought. This could quite literally blow up in his face. But he had to try, for the sake of his unborn baby.

“Twenty seconds!” Luke yelled again but Spencer wasn’t perturbed.

Taking a deep breath he uncapped the bottle and rushed back into the bedroom where he poured two thirds of it onto the strategic pile of clothes he’d left on the floor next to the bed. He walked backwards towards the bathroom, drizzling a trail from the clothes to the bathroom door.

“Ten seconds!” Luke called once again.

Spencer dropped the now empty container on the floor and stepped back inside the tub. He manoeuvred under the shower head and clambered up onto the lip of the tub, only just able to grip the edge of the vent opening.

His hand shook a little as he pointed his gun over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes on his target. One false move and it would all be over. He had one shot to get this right or he would never have the chance to meet his child.

He curled his finger around the trigger at the exact moment he heard the front door come crashing down and a flurry of law enforcement breach the motel. He took aim, he tightened his grip on the gun.

He swore as he pulled that trigger whilst desperately trying to pull himself to safety he saw Luke step over the threshhold of the bathroom, seconds before Spencer disappeared for good.

He left his old friend with a smile. A smile that conveyed he had won again. And then the explosion rang out in the small room, wracking the walls as the gas was ignited by the bullet propelled from the chamber.

Spencer forced himself down the vent as the heat from the rapidly growing fire started to fill the room accompanied by the sound of screams.

He’d pulled out every trick in his arsenal to make this last escape. He didn’t regret a moment of it, not a single one since starting this crusade. Because everything he’d done had led him to you and your future child.

The BAU never stood a chance. And his last thought and he pulled himself to freedom was, you’ll never catch us, mother fuckers.

Feeling you closing in,

Brushing against my skin.

Make you betray your eyes

When I hide in plain sight,

That's just the way I win.

I paved my path,

Somewhere hard to follow.

Outplayed, outclassed,

I said…

Catch me if you can,

I'm gone just like the wind now.

'Cause once I plant my feet,

Taking the lead,

Better believe,

You never had a chance, no.

So catch me if you can.

I pull out every trick,

I don't regret a thing, no.

You're runnin' after me,

Chasing apologies.

When you can't get a grip.

I paved my path,

Somewhere hard to follow.

Outplayed, outclassed,

I said…

Catch me if you can,

I'm gone just like the wind now.

'Cause once I plant my feet,

Taking the lead,

Better believe,

You never had a chance, no.

So catch me if you can,

I only feel at home when I'm on the run,

I only open doors just to pick the locks.

Too busy throwing stones at your fragile thoughts,

I paved my path,

Outplayed, outclassed.

Catch me if you can,

(I'm gone just like the wind now).

'Cause once I plant my feet,

Taking the lead,

Better believe,

You never had a chance, no, hah.

So catch me if you can.

So catch me if you can,

Woo!

'Cause once I plant my feet,

Taking the lead,

Better believe,

You never had a chance, no.

So catch me if you can.

@bubblebuttewade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective @rebelliousstories

#unsub spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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andivmg · 9 months ago

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he made a statement on twitter. i suggest you all read it to get his side of it all. the only things i will speak on are that we remember some situations and events very differently, that he’s still very close friends with Friends A and B as well as others who made objectifying comments about me, and that the text included in his statement is one i sent when i was in a state of emotional distress over something that happened with Friend A and i felt guilty for what i did to Luke after the relationship. Clearly, it is not a reflection of how i feel now.

and to Luke, I don’t accept your apology because i don’t think you mean it.

i spoke my truth, he spoke his.

that’s all, logging off.

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not4simp · 10 months ago

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Yo- What?!

Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem!reader Summary: Apparently you have a boyfriend you weren't even aware of WC: 802 words Content: Fake dating? Luke and reader aren't that close

The dining pavilion was filled with demigods eating and chattering amongst each other including you. It was your third year on camp half-blood and you were no stranger to the infamous Luke Castellan.

There he stood a few feet away from you bombarded with girls. But hey what’s new? You paid no mind to it and continue enjoying your meal with your siblings.

“Isn’t he just sooo dreamy” Bella, your sister, closed her eyes releasing a soft exhale as she gently nestled her head between her arms that’s on the table. “Who? Luke?” i tilted my head to the side and raised a brow. “duhh who else” Bella rolled her eyes. “he’s not all that you know” I retorted as I slurped my remaining mango juice. “Like I’m gonna listen to you, you turn down every guy that comes your way!”. I laughed “touché”. Pushing myself up from my seat I got up to throw away my empty juice box.

As i walk over to the bin I could overhear snippets of conversation from Luke and his fangirls. They leaned in closer to Luke every chance they got. Occasionally batting their eyelash with their flirtatious charm, accompanied by a few playful slap and laughter ever so often.

I grimaced seeing the situation unfolding in front of me. They were trying a bit too hard in and it was very obvious.

“I appreciate the flattery", his eyes betraying his words as a hint of discomfort was displayed. "...but I’m taken” said Luke as he tried to shake off a devotee that was clinging onto his arm. “As if,” the girl rolled her eyes “I don’t see her around” she pursed her lips.

I was in the middle of walking back to my table when I felt someone tugging my arm causing me to stumble. Fortunately, I was able to regain my footing. Guess training does came in handy. “Hey wha-“ my brows furrow in confusion. Before I could continue speaking Luke gently put his hands on my shoulders and guided me to face his little fan-club.

“This is my girlfriend, y/n.” Luke announced with a bright smile. His voice filled with enthusiasm.

My head immediately did a 180° flip towards him and a look of puzzlement was evident on my face. The other girls and I simultaneously said “What?” “Oh don’t be all shy now sweetheart” he said while pinching my cheeks. All I could think was what the actual fuck?

“Now please excuse us” I was about to brush my alleged boyfriend off but he gave me a soft gaze, with a hint of desperation. Oh darn him and his puppy eyes. With a reluctant sigh I acknowledged his request and complied.

Luke led me to a path by the lake giving us enough privacy from the rest of camp. As we came to a halt I fixed my posture straight and firmly placed my hands on my hips. “Are you out of your mi-“ Luke raised his hand and pushed his pointer finger on my lips to shush me. I was really tempted to bite his finger considering the many times he had cut me off.

“Okay so now that you’re my girlfriend-“ The voices won and I bit his finger. Arching my eyebrows and narrowing my eyes I gave him a WTF look. “When did I agree to be your girlfriend?”

“I should’ve worded it better” Luke muttered under his breath while fanning his hand. “okay let me rephrase, I need you to be my girlfriend. well Fake girlfriend.” “Hard pass” I said “Wait listen, just for a while until those girls lay off” “You can go pick someone else” “No no no you don’t get it, it has to be you. They saw me with you if, I go changing my ‘girlfriend’ they’ll know it’s a lie” Luke said with a slight whine. “what do I get in return?” Luke’s lips parted slightly before snapping shut. Clearly he didn’t think this whole ordeal through.

“I’ll make your bed every day” “c’mon you gotta do better than that” I sigh and folded my arms “I’ll do all your chores” I feigned a yawn “I’ll give you all my dessert!” I smirk. Now we’re talking

I extended my hand and he did the same. Sealing the deal with a firm handshake. “From now on you’ll be doing all my chores, make my bed, give all your dessert to me, and do everything I ask you to” I said closing my eyes with a smile of delight painted on my face. Seeing as the matter was solved I began to make my way back to the dining pavilion. “Yes exactl- wait, do anything you ask me to?” Luke’s brows furrow. I laugh and ignore him.

Oh this is going to be interesting...

A/N: This is my first time writing so sorry if it's sucky. Might make a part 2

#pjo series #pjo #pjo tv show #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson tv show #luke castellan x fem!reader #female reader

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theunsinkableship1 · 3 months ago

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Lukolaland: What would it take to pull me away?

DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Do not read if you're not a shipper. This is PURE SPECULATION. No harm intended.

Once again, Lukolaland finds itself in disarray, with many shippers feeling disheartened and disappointed after Tifaine.red’s recent TikTok live. While this may have come as a shock to some, we must remember that much of this is not new, and it doesn't negate what we’ve witnessed over the years, particularly during the press tour. We know what we saw, and we can't unsee it.

The adjacent presence has lingered for nearly a year, yet it hasn’t changed much. It's clear that she isn’t the biggest threat, she's a young woman in love with someone who doesn’t seem to reciprocate those feelings. It’s not her fault; she didn’t realize what she was stepping into. While her insecurities and attempts to capitalize on the situation are frustrating, she’s not the main player here, the clock is ticking.

So why should we stay and wait for them to sort things out? Because what speaks volumes in the Luke and Nicola saga is everything that isn’t happening, everything that remains unsaid.

This situation could have been managed differently from the start. There were multiple opportunities for clear communication and professional handling, yet these were not taken. Nicola and Luke never said that they didn't love each other in a romantic way, they have said that they're friends in a complicated and very special way that blur the lines and is not easy for us to comprehend, they have acted all the time as lovers even when we couldn'ts see them and behind the scenes. This is confusing for who pays attention and we do. Luke could have introduced A as his girlfriend before the tour, during the tour or after the papgate, establishing the relationship publicly. He didn’t do it maybe because he doesn’t consider her as his girlfriend. He doesn’t have to discuss his private matters with the public, but a simple acknowledgement would have decrease passion and expectations. the initial shock to the fandom would have subsided over time, allowing everything to proceed with less speculation. The lack of these actions, combined with what has been done under apparent pressure, speaks volumes about the true nature of the situation. His adjacent has a small but public presence and she seems eager to be claimed and shared with the world as she is doing the most to make it known. It could have been less drama induced episode.

Luke and Nicola could have clearly stated that their relationship was strictly platonic, curbing the growing Lukola frenzy, they were always elusive or evasive on the subject leaving space for doubt and ambiguity. Their professional teams could have made clear statements to put an end to the speculation.

Many great creators in this fandom have faced criticism this week for their Lukola content. I understand that, to outsiders, it might seem strange for grown people to dedicate so much time to shipping people they don't personally know. I used to think the same way and never imagined I'd care so deeply about celebrities' love stories. However, not understanding something shouldn’t lead to attacks. If you believe we’re delusional, allow us to be so in our own corner of the internet. We aren’t harming anyone; we’ve simply built a community that celebrates real love. Those who don’t believe Lukola Love have no need to be here.

It might seem ridiculous to some, and they are free to think so, but it's unfair to create spaces just to mock us. This community has brought light, laughter, and joy to many of us. The only people who have the right to ask us to stop are Nicola and Luke themselves, and they haven’t done so, stating multiple times that they find it sweet, because the majority of this community is neither harmful nor toxic. We genuinely love and support them. We condemn harassment and attacks on them and strive to be respectful by staying in our own space and respecting their boundaries. If Nicola or Luke ever express discomfort or a desire to reassess those boundaries, most of us would comply or,would stop because, contrary to popular belief, we are functioning adults with full lives.

I might not have understood this before, but now that I'm part of it, I see why so many are touched by what we've witnessed, I feel the love, it’s rare, pure, and incredibly beautiful. I always liked Nicola, I always had a soft spot for Luke, but seeing them together has enhanced that feeling. I truly believe they’re better together as they love and help each other in many ways. Most of us recognize that having something so special is a blessing, almost miraculous. It's because we value love, especially in a world where it's often missing, that we feel compelled to celebrate, encourage, and nurture it whenever we see it.

I will only leave this ship if their relationship becomes toxic or if something truly inexcusable happens. As long as they maintain their bond, I’ll support them silently, even through other relationships, marriages, or kids. If they appear to be single and uncommitted, I will continue to support them openly in Lukolaland. Why? Because I want to believe in real love, it makes the world better.

#lukola #lukolaland

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toutvatoujoursbien · 5 months ago

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midnight thoughts (i hope i don't regret this)

Let me preface this by saying that these are just (very, very long) ramblings I’ve had in my head over the past few days and are MY opinions. I never post to Tumblr, but my level of emotional unhinged-ness right now needs an outlet so that I can process everything and feel, well, less unhinged.

I have never been this enamored with any celebrity or promo for a show like I have for this season of Bridgerton. Admittedly, I am a fan of the books and Penelope & Colin are my favorite couple. I’m going to age myself by saying that I read the series almost 20-ish years ago; past me could have never imagined I would actually get to see a Regency romance on my screen. Romances are for the girlies, and what the girlies like tends to be mocked, ridiculed, and not taken seriously - I’ve seen this time and time again across many different fandoms. I also really enjoy the tv series for being its own creative adaptation. I’ve liked many (though not all) of the changes they’ve made to the show; and I’ve liked all the little nods to the books that have been sprinkled in. Are the books or show perfect? Of course not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love them for bringing me some entertainment and joy and escapism. I think that’s the beauty of it, I get to have the best of both worlds, so to speak. And for me personally, it’s been so fun to watch the press coverage over the past six or so months. As a fandom, I think we’ve been EXTREMELY well fed.

Having Nicola and Luke as the leads has been a true blessing; I think/hope folks can tell how much they clearly love and understand their characters/roles. I know everyone has been talking nonstop about their chemistry and their close friendship, which I think is beautiful, truly unique and special. How can you not enjoy watching two people, who seem to genuinely like one other, talk endlessly about a project that they love and have poured so much into? And the way they have supported one another, not only during promo, but during their years of friendship? Astonishing, really. So while I am old enough to know better than to ship real people, I would’t blame anyone (myself included) if they got caught up in the whirlwind excitement and couldn’t help but wonder a sincere “What if?” (At least that was the case for me.) Isn’t that the beauty of hope and possibility and potential? Like, I knew rationally and intellectually that the likelihood of them being together was low, but damn if I didn’t feel giddy seeing their interviews, reading articles, and watching video after video.

“Oh, but it’s all PR!” they cry. Maybe, but like most of life, I don’t think it’s so simple or clear. I think there’s been a lot of nuance and perhaps some blurring of the lines during this promo tour. As long as we are respectful about it and realize that at the end of the day, the only opinions that matter in regards to their relationship are N & L’s, I don’t think some lighthearted dreaming is unheard of. We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye.

(And yes, I know this is the internet and therefore everyone has an opinion - again, myself included. But I struggle to understand why some people think that their opinions should be deemed THE most important to the discussion or would have an impact on any type of outcome, especially in this particular scenario… I hope it’s obvious I’m referring to the very vocal people that chose to expend their energy in hateful, negative ways. Aren’t you exhausted?

However, as a longtime lurker, I have to admit it’s been absolutely fascinating reading all the different perspectives and takes on this too. I think reading other POVs and seeing people articulate points that challenge me and make me think is a good thing - again, as long as it’s all in a respectful manner.

Also I have spent literal years curating and cultivating a social media bubble that doesn’t make me want to cry or give up on life. I don’t seek out negativity and hate - constructive criticism for a thing is a different matter. It may be “putting blinders up,” but honestly, real life can be a shitty enough place that I would like to spend my limited time online looking at cute things and learning or reading about stuff that makes me feel less alone in the world.)

Last week, I stayed off social media to avoid Bridgerton spoilers until I could watch Part 2. I did open Twitter on Thursday to check on something that was entirely unrelated, saw the absolute meltdown of a shitstorm brewing and quickly NOPED out of it. (I was also reminded of why Twitter scares me at times. And I'm not calling it X because that is stupid.) When I finally caught up over the weekend (both with Bridgerton and… all the other stuff 😅), I felt like I was experiencing mental and emotional whiplash.

Look, ultimately, I don’t know them personally and know even less about their private lives. As an outside observer (even though, yes, I have a vested interest in them), Nicola is fucking amazing and Luke seems to be a nice, sweet guy. I think they are each others support, and it has been mentioned many times that she has helped him deal with the intensity/anxiety of being in the spotlight this season. So here are some potentially hot takes: I just think, when they’re together, it’s like he’s a different, better person. When he soaks up even a little bit of her light (sorry, I had to), I can see all the qualities in him that she is constantly gushing about. But, and again this is my take on it, I also think he has a lot of growing up to do. I don’t know much about his supposed “hot/fuck boy summer,” but it seems to me that he’s perhaps going through his own Colin phase, which he can totally do. I genuinely want to see him and Nic succeed. However, I do think he’s got to get a better handling on his media image now (this whole thing reeks of a PR nightmare, but I need to take off my comms professional hat). The way this has all played out has been, imo, a clusterfuck. There are other issues that I’m also not going to get into at the moment.

The thing that frustrated me the most is the timing of those “leaked” photos. You’re telling me that N&L went through SIX months of a - literal - worldwide promo tour, building up hype, doing countless interviews and appearances, etc., only to have these pap pictures “captured” on the night of the Pt. 2 London premiere??? And yes, while I’m aware there were rumblings of a gf being at various events/locations, I didn’t pay much attention to it (read: my curated social media bubble, lol). And I think the lack of confirmation up to that point from Luke and his team just mades things even more tricky/messy. So when the inevitable backlash played out online, piled on top of the hate Polin seems to get from many corners of the internet (Is it ship wars? Regular trolls just trolling? Polin and/or Lukola antis? People who, for whatever reason, don’t like the actors themselves or, worse, don’t like the creative choices/decisions made by the higher-ups and therefore deem it okay to spread hate online? All of the above, most likely.), I know I felt like I had been hit by a train.

Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together. I was happy with Season 3, which perhaps I will deep dive about in another post because this one has already spiraled out of control. Were there things I wished they had included or, rather, things that could have been left out? Yes, of course. But at the end of the day, I think we got a beautiful story led by two actors who love Polin as much as we do. And I cannot wait to see them back for Season 4. Plus, seriously, those viewing numbers alone should have been mostly what people are talking about. I hope all this doesn’t take away from the overall impact of the show and season.

I think it’s okay to be disappointed by all the stuff that has come out over the last few days. I think it’s perfectly human to want/need to process your thoughts and emotions. What is NOT OKAY is sending hate to anyone, period. And I hope you don’t let all that has happened sour your enjoyment of Season 3 and/or Polin.

Lastly, if you take anything away from this long ass post, it’s that Nicola is a GODDAMN QUEEN. Anyone who says otherwise is speaking slander and we do not stand for that in this house. She has carried herself during this time with grace, charm, and poise, consistently and constantly. And she is always ready for a mega fashion moment. She must be exhausted - already on to her next film/job but also perpetually online, and even stepping up to defend her costar. I may have to do a whole separate post just gushing about her and add to all the people already singing her praises. (And as a big fuck you to all the haters.)

Geez Louise, I clearly have a lot of feelings (more than I allowed myself to believe I did…). But I would love to hear what others think! Please, I need friends with whom I can have rational (okay, maybe slightly unhinged), spirited, deep analyses and discussion of this whole thing, or anything else we might have in common!

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #bridgerton season 3 #polin #bridgerton #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

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OMG Wait for thé As You Wish baby Eliza idea fics I was thinking about something like this: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRTyDcC5/

All of the Munson family is on the floor lined up and cooing at baby Eliza to crawl/walk towards one of them to see who she favors more.

Eliza Munson is now an obsession of mine. I love her almost as much as Eddie does. @munson-blurbs and I had so much fun (as we always do together) writing this and having the little Munson family get weird and have fun 🩷

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Come on, Eliza,” Luke says with a sigh. He pulls out the chair next to her highchair and plops down in it. “Why won’t she just eat it?”

“Would you want to eat strained peas?” Ryan asks, brandishing the label on the baby food jar at his little brother. “It probably tastes worse than normal peas.”

Luke hops up and dips his pinky into the jar. He sticks it in his mouth and immediately pulls it right back out. His face scrunches up in repulsion and he makes a gagging sound. “Yep. Definitely worse.”

“Don’t make that face in front of her!” Ryan chides. “She’ll never want to eat it!”

But the little giggles from the highchair have both boys turning to look at their sister. Her big eyes are focused on Luke as he makes his face of disgust.

“You think that’s funny, huh?” Luke says, leaning in towards the nine-month-old. “You like when I make silly faces?” He puckers his lips together like a fish, which has Eliza giggling even harder. “You love me so much, don’t you?” Luke swore he’d never cave in and use the baby-talk voice that everyone else uses with his sister, but that didn’t last very long. Now he uses it almost every time he talks to her.

“All right, Eliza,” Ryan says, bringing a small spoonful of the unappetizing green baby food up towards her lips. “You gonna have some food now? Have some yummy lunch?”

“Don’t lie to her,” Luke says, making Ryan roll his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him,” Ryan tells the baby. “Gonna open up? Yeah, there you go.” Eliza holds her tiny mouth open long enough for Ryan to feed her the peas. Eliza makes a face at the unpleasant taste on her tongue and smacks her lips together a few times, but she doesn’t spit it out.

“Yes!” Ryan cheers. “I did it! I got her to eat her vegetables.”

“Well, yeah,” Luke says with a scoff. “Because I made her laugh.”

“She laughs at anything. The other day, I unzipped my coat and she laughed so hard that she farted,” Ryan retorts, bringing another small spoonful of peas to his sister’s lips.

Luke pouts, sticking his tongue out at Ryan. “You’re just jealous because I’m obviously her favorite.”

“Ha! In your dreams.”

“Wanna bet?”

That’s how you and Eddie find your three children sprawled out on the family room floor. Luke and Ryan are on one side, and Eliza’s on the other.

“C’mon! Come over here!” Ryan calls out, motioning the baby towards him. “You can do it, Eliza!”

“Do I even wanna know what you two are up to?” Eddie asks, smirking at the boys.

“Trying to see which one of us is her favorite,” Luke casually replies, as though this is a normal occurrence.

“Ah, well, at least you’re not training her for some sort of horse racing thing with babies,” Eddie laughs, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Anyway, don’t worry about who her favorite is.”

“She loves us equally,” you remind them with a patient smile.

But Eddie rolls his eyes playfully. “Uh, no. I was gonna say that they don’t need to worry about it because I’m clearly the favorite.”

“Ha!” you bark out. “Remember whose body housed her for nine months and produced food for her. I literally gave her life. Therefore, I should be the favorite.”

“You should be,” Eddie says, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes, “however, you’ve neglected to account for the fact that she’s a total daddy’s girl.”

Ryan’s next to speak up. “Well, I’m the one who named her. If you left it up to Luke, we’d be calling her Squidward.”

“Only if she was a boy!” Luke protests. “Besides, I make her laugh the most. She knows I’m funny, so I’m her favorite.”

Eddie turns to you. “I think there’s only one way to settle this,” he says with a shrug.

“I think so,” you agree. Turning towards the boys, you motion for them to scoot down so that you can get down on the floor next to them. Eddie scoops up Eliza from where she’d wandered over towards the toy box in the corner of the room. He straightens the tiny black Metallica shirt she’s wearing and sits her down in the middle of the room.

“Here we go,” he says, pressing a kiss to her head before coming over to get on the ground next to you. “Okay, on the count of three, everyone start calling for her. Ready? One, two, three.”

“Come on, baby!” you call, making grabby hands for your daughter.

“Eliza! C’mere to Daddy, baby girl!”

“Hey, hey, Eliza!” Luke coos. “Over here!”

“You know you love your big brother Ryan! Come here!”

Eliza stays seated in her spot, her eyes roaming over her four family members, wondering what in the hell they are doing. She’s seen some weird things in her nine months, but never this.

“Luke, stop making funny faces. You’re distracting her!” Ryan says.

“I’m trying to get her to come over here!” he responds.

The baby finally pushes herself into a crawling position and starts to move. The four older family members practically hold their breath as they wait to see in what direction she’s headed. Eliza veers to the right, headed towards Eddie. Her father lets out an evil, triumphant laugh and grins as she gets closer.

“That’s right, baby. Show them Daddy is your favorite.” But then her movements pause, and Eliza begins to head towards her mother.

“Yes!” you say, encouragingly. “That’s my sweet girl!” You shoot a smirk over your shoulder at Eddie. “You were saying?”

Eliza starts crawling towards you, but Ryan starts drumming his hands against the carpet and that catches her attention. Her course once again changes, and she heads towards her brothers.

“No!” you say. “Don’t betray me! My only daughter!”

“Uh, mine too, ya know,” Eddie says from the other side of you. “Eliza, remember who always sings you to sleep.” He launches into the chorus of “Enter Sandman,” headbanging while the little girl giggles.

Your heart sinks as Eliza starts towards him, but she immediately stops crawling when she hears the knock at the door and sits back on her diaper-padded bottom.

“That must be Wayne,” Eddie says. He’d invited him over for dinner, and the older man never turns down an opportunity to see his grandkids. “Come in!” he calls out, not moving from his spot on the floor.

The doorknob twists as Wayne enters, heavy-footed in steel-toed boots. His gaze is drawn immediately to the five of you on the floor.

“What on God’s green Earth did I walk into?”

Luke’s the only one not remotely embarrassed. “Trying to see who Eliza loves the most,” he casually explains.

Before Wayne can formulate a response, the baby does an about-face and crawls directly to him. She sits at his feet, making grabby hands and whining so he’ll pick her up.

“Huh,” Wayne says with a grin. “Wouldja look at that. Seems like Miss Eliza chose me!”

The rest of you groan and grumble, erupting into a chorus of not fairs.

“Does this mean that Grampa Wayne is her favorite?” Luke asks, unable to hide his envy.

Wayne laughs, tickling his granddaughter’s feet. “C’mon, you didn’t need a competition to know that!”

Eliza claps her hands together clumsily in agreement.

“The princess has spoken,” Eddie begrudgingly agrees. A glint of mischief flickers across his deep brown eyes as he looks at his uncle. “Unfortunately, the prize is changing her diaper. And, uh, she’s really been into prunes lately, so…” he claps a hand on Wayne’s back. “Congrats!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS #request #AYW tok

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antianakin · 1 month ago

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Also, I had another question for you, if you don’t mind giving your thoughts on it: I recently came across a post criticizing Obi-Wan and Yoda for not telling Luke that Anakin was ‘Darth Vader’: AKA: his father. And I think it’s been kind of established that they were going to tell Luke when they felt he was ready, but when things spiraled out of control at the beginning of ‘A New Hope’ that they thought it would just be too painful? And like… OBVIOUSLY they are not telling Luke he needs to kill Anakin to be cruel. They’re telling him Anakin WILL force Luke’s hand into having to defend himself because Anakin will try to slice Luke’s fucking head off. Lol.

But anyway, the reason this tumblr post I came across bothered me is because it was really vindictive and bitter in accusing Yoda… of wanting revenge. Like… saying THAT’S the reason Yoda tried to get Luke to kill Anakin. And not… idk… the fact the galaxy was on fire. 🤦‍♀️ Essentially, they admitted that what the Jedi went through was a genocide. But instead of showing SYMPATHY, they turned it around by saying that Yoda was CRUEL and demonizing him even if he DID want revenge… as a GENOCIDE victim. And it just felt… SO gross. 😭🤢 Because it was OBVIOUS what they cared about the most was Anakin’s pain in the suit and Luke’s conflict with killing Anakin. But Yoda being a GENOCIDE VICTIM meant nothing to them. And that isn’t even the REASON Yoda and Obi-Wan say Luke may have to kill Anakin! It’s because Anakin is dangerous and burning the galaxy down with Palpatine at that point in time. Essentially; they believe it’s for the greater good.

But what REALLY grinds my gears is how even if their theory about Yoda WAS true… they would demonize the GENOCIDE VICTIM over wanting justice/revenge over the actual guy who helped slaughter them. 🤦‍♀️🤢 It just… pissed me off SO much. Lol.

But anyway, you don’t have to give your thoughts if you don’t want to, but I always love hearing your take on backwards logic like this from radical Anakin/Anidala/anti Jedi fans (this was from a radical Anidala fan, which I guess makes sense now that I think about it why they didn’t care about the Jedi’s plight and just the Skywalker family’s pain).

Someone else sent me an ask about something very similar to this yesterday. My response is in the queue, so I don't want to completely overlap this. But whatever post generated these asks, I'm so glad I've curated my dash enough not to have to see it.

I think people seem to overestimate the amount of time Obi-Wan and Yoda have in which they could have told Luke about Vader.

Obi-Wan is a stranger to Luke for most of his life, something that generally gets explained away in other media as Owen not wanting Obi-Wan around, but it's not super clear in the films themselves why Obi-Wan has kept his distance for so long. But regardless, he has. And Obi-Wan DOES give Luke quite a lot of information that his aunt and uncle have been keeping from him in the immediate aftermath of them meeting in ANH. He tells him that his father was a Jedi who was "killed" by Darth Vader, and he tells him Darth Vader was his student and that Vader betrayed them all. The only thing missing is that these are the same people, but also this is their FIRST conversation about this and Obi-Wan is pretty clearly trying to gently bring Luke into this wider world he's never known and not just drop a bunch of massive bombshells on his shoulders. He's also trying to convince Luke to leave Tatooine with him, and it likely won't help to tell him that his father is a traitor who is currently still an incredible danger to him.

And then Owen and Beru die and Luke is in mourning and Obi-Wan's primary focus is on getting to Alderaan and not throwing more pressure on Luke than he can handle in a situation where he's already going to feel under a lot of pressure. And then he dies. And while Obi-Wan is occasionally able to speak to Luke after he dies, it seems to be pretty sporadic at best and he can't stick around for very long until after Luke gets to Dagobah. So his ability to have a nice long conversation about Vader is incredibly minimal.

And finally there's Luke's time on Dagobah where he does seem to have more ready access to both Obi-Wan and Yoda, but Yoda is still seeing a LOT of reasons to keep this information from Luke. Luke struggles with believing in himself, he takes a weapon into the cave, he's reckless and impulsive, etc. And there's no telling just how long the two of them have together and it's more important to get Luke as trained as possible so that he stays alive (and also so that when it IS time for him to learn this information, he can HANDLE IT).

And that's it. There's always bigger priorities and good reason for both Yoda and Obi-Wan to believe that Luke isn't quite ready to learn this given how painful of a truth it would be. And you know what? When Luke IS given this information, he nearly gives up on everything as a reaction. He wasn't ready. Yoda and Obi-Wan were right.

The other ask I answered is more about Obi-Wan telling Luke he has to prepare himself for the super likely possibility that he'll have to kill his father, so I won't go into that much here. It's weird to put accusations on Yoda since, to my memory, Yoda and Luke never HAVE a conversation about Vader, let alone one where Yoda tells Luke to kill him. Is the argument supposed to be that Yoda kept the information from Luke so that Luke would always hate Anakin and therefore be more likely to kill him?

But. Yeah. The kinder, more objective answer to this is like you said, they're preparing him for the possibility that Anakin will try to kill HIM and so he might have to defend himself. They're preparing him for the possibility that Anakin CANNOT BE SAVED because he's shown exactly no inclination to stop murdering people for the last twenty some-odd years, even when faced with people he used to claim to love. Don't lose a thousand people just to save one. If Luke refuses to do what has to be done and dies as a result (or is turned into a Sith himself), the entire galaxy suffers. Leia MIGHT be able to pick up the torch after him (although she'd never have a living master to help her train), but it would probably take YEARS before she could manage to do what Luke could not.

The more bitter answer to this from someone who's not a fan of Anakin is that Anakin deserves it. Like you said, I'm more inclined to feel sympathy for the people who are genocide victims wanting justice or even vengeance for what was done to them than I am inclined to feel sympathy for the person who committed said genocide. It's why I feel a hell of a lot more sympathy for Reva than I ever have for Anakin (Reva also stops killing people WAY earlier than Anakin and shows more empathy towards people she's not personally related to than Anakin ever does). I'm over here HOPING that suit hurts him, I HOPE that he struggles to breathe every day, I hope his breath burns in his lungs every time air is pumped into him, I hope he feels that pain every moment of every day he has to stay alive. I could not give less of a shit about Anakin's pain. It's not even just the one genocide, either. Every single clone who dies after Order 66, their enslavement and loss of what little autonomy they had, can thank Anakin for what was done to them. And then he spends over TWENTY YEARS spreading pain and destruction and death across the galaxy. There are MILLIONS of lives gone exclusively because of Anakin. Anakin is DROWNING in the blood of the people he's killed. I hope it suffocates him. Even if Obi-Wan and Yoda DID want Luke to kill his father out of vengeance, I wouldn't blame them.

So yeah. Fuck Anakin. Who gives a shit if he's in pain. Luke is so lucky he didn't have to actually get to know his complete shit heel of a father and that his primary father figures ended up being Owen, Obi-Wan, and Yoda. Imagine how awful his life would've been if he'd actually had to live with Anakin as a father at any point. Luke dodged a bullet in so many ways.

This is why I don't engage with people like that anymore. There's so little point. I'm set in my ways and opinions now for the most part and they likely are, too. Arguing with them is just going to make everybody feel worse. I'd rather stay in my corner, even if I'm ranting in that corner.

#star wars #yoda #obi-wan kenobi #anti anakin #anti anakin skywalker #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #jedi #pro jedi #long post

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