#with a side of luke is a disaster

[fellthemarvelous]

How can you be on the council and not be a master?

I need to stop looking at Star Wars TikTok posts because I guess the concept of personal accountability is lost on so many people.

I love Anakin Skywalker. I do. I think he is one of the best fictional characters ever created because he is so fucking complex. I love him for all the good he did and in spite of all the bad things he did as Darth Vader. In the end, he sacrificed his own life to save his son.

That's the thing that's killing me right now.

People want to blame everyone else except for Anakin for the choices he made. They want to blame the Jedi because the Jedi don't strictly adhere to their vision of love and are therefore responsible for why Anakin fell to the dark side.

I saw a few comments where someone blamed the Jedi (specifically Obi-Wan), blamed the council, blamed Ahsoka because she left him, blamed Padme (because if we can't blame female characters for something then what are we even doing, right?), blamed the Jedi for not trusting him (and therefore somehow preventing him from believing in himself), and then at the end was like...oh and I guess Palpatine too since he groomed him for 13 years.

First of all, why is it a chore to blame Palpatine for Anakin's problems but so easy to blame the Jedi?

Imagine the heartbreak Anakin felt when he learned that the man who spent 13 years mentoring him turned out to be the Sith lord the Jedi had been searching for. That's reason enough to be angry at Palpatine because it was Palpatine who broke Anakin's spirit.

Secondly, not one of these people is responsible for Anakin's actions. Not one of them. Not even Palpatine. That's why it had to be Anakin's choice. Palpatine could not force him to fall, so he had to resort to manipulation and gaslighting to fuck with Anakin's head. He spent 13 years planting seeds of self-doubt and mistrust in the Jedi in Anakin's head. Because what happened when Palpatine assigned Anakin to the Jedi council despite having zero authority to do so??

"How can you be on the council and not be a master?"

The Jedi Council would like to ask Anakin the same question.

You have to be a Jedi master before you can be on the council.

Anakin became upset because he was denied the rank of master. It didn't occur to him at all that Palpatine intentionally placed him in that situation for that exact reason. Palpatine knew the Jedi well, and he knew how they would react. He knew it would lead the Jedi to asking Anakin to spy on him. He played the long game and it paid off.

The Jedi taught Anakin what they could, but they have no control over whether or not Anakin put the Jedi code into practice. The Jedi trusted Anakin. We saw them trust Anakin with their lives many many times during the Clone Wars.

They gave him a padawan for crying out loud. They looked at this 19-year-old, freshly knighted Jedi General and trusted him to mentor Ahsoka, a 14-year-old girl who was more advanced than everyone else her age. He's a vergence in the Force and they gave him a padawan who was already incredibly powerful. It's rare for Jedi to get their own padawans at such a young age, but Anakin was a Force prodigy and Ahsoka could have become a knight herself at 16 if she had not left the Order.

The Jedi trusted him. Until they didn't.

Anakin is the one who slaughtered an entire clan of Tusken Raiders in anger after the death of his mother. Even the women and the children. He killed all of them because he hated all of them and he was angry because he wasn't able to prevent his mother from dying in his arms. The only people who knew about that were Padme and Palpatine.

Anakin is the one who spent three years lying to the Jedi because he kept his relationship with Padme a secret from everyone (except Rex). He believed he could have it all if he tried hard enough, and trying to have it all is what lead to him losing everything when he chose to fall to the dark side, when he chose to sacrifice the galaxy for one person, only to lose her and his unborn child for good.

During the war, Ahsoka told Barriss that Anakin will always do what needs to be done, leaving out the part that includes the use of terror and torture. Barriss got to witness Anakin's rage personally when he figured out that she was the one who framed Ahsoka for treason.

We all saw how Luminara reacted to Ahsoka violently threatening Nute Gunray to get him to talk. She was horrified and immediately reprimanded Ahsoka because it is not the Jedi way to resort to terror. The Jedi were supposed to negotiate, not terrorize. And Anakin taught Ahsoka his version of aggressive negotiations. (And she hinted at the fact that she used aggressive negotiations against Morgan Elsbeth when Huyang questioned her about how she obtained the information to locate the map to Peridea and she told him that she did not follow Jedi protocol.)

When Anakin interrogated Poggle the Lesser during Brain Invaders, he physically hit Poggle before force choking him. He used brutality to get the answers he needed. Obi-Wan, Luminara and Ki-Adi all expressed concern over how he got Poggle to talk, and he wouldn't tell them what he did. What he did went against the Jedi code. He made that choice. No one else made it for him. He knows it was wrong. It's why he didn't answer their questions.

Yes, he was doing it because Ahsoka was in imminent danger and he needed to save her (and Barriss and the infected clones) and there wasn't enough time to negotiate with Poggle. Anakin did what an older brother would have done for his little sister, but she was also his padawan and he was her master. And it was very clear that Ahsoka was a lot like him.

It's not Anakin's fault that Ahsoka left the Jedi Order, but it is not Ahsoka's fault that Anakin fell. He was incapable of letting go of his padawan (he literally resurrected her from the dead on Mortis), which was an important part of the reason he was given a padawan in the first place. He had formed a strong attachment to her just as he had Padme and Obi-Wan and Rex and C-3PO and R2-D2.

His unwillingness to let go of his attachments is what caused him to fall. He was a Jedi, and Jedi are not supposed to form attachments. So when he betrayed the Jedi Order to save Padme's life, his fall to the dark side was a result of him giving into his hatred and his anger. He took his rage out on an entire galaxy for 25 years because he was unable to let go.

Attachment does not equal love.

Maul was attached to Obi-Wan and there was nothing loving about it. It was violent and many people died because of Maul's inability to let go of his anger and hatred for Obi-Wan.

The whole reason that Anakin gave into the dark side completely was because he fell for the trap. He believed he could use the dark side without letting it consume him, but the dark side is all about controlling others. He couldn't control Padme and he ended up force choking her. He couldn't control Ahsoka and she left. He couldn't control Obi-Wan and chose to fight against him instead of listening to Obi-Wan's pleas.

No one could save Anakin Skywalker from himself. He had to save himself from his own darkness.

Which he did, in the end, because he saw his son being tortured by Palpatine, and he realized what it meant to let go. He finally understood what he needed to do and accepted that he would have to give up his own life to do so.

It took him a long time to understand what it means to let go, because letting go isn't giving up. Letting go is about accepting that there are some things beyond his control.

The conversation he had with his mother on Mortis was key to helping him accept who he was in the end. "Your guilt does not define you. You define your guilt."

He knew he was going to die, but he died saving someone he loved, doing the right thing and ultimately returning balance to the Force. He accepted his destiny. He accepted responsibility for who he was as Anakin Skywalker and that Anakin Skywalker was also responsible for the actions of Darth Vader because they were one in the same.

It's the problem we see Ahsoka struggling with when she's with him in the World Between Worlds. She struggled with the knowledge that her master became a monster and worried about what that meant for her. She struggled to figure out who she would have become if she had not left the Order. She had to wrestle with her own darkness, and Anakin's final lesson to her also took a weight off her shoulders. It's why she's suddenly that same girl we saw at the beginning of the war. The one who always smiled and was always so sure of herself. She chose the light and it was reflected in the way she suddenly began wearing white, a contrast to what she'd been wearing decades.

It's understanding that she has control of her own destiny, whatever that might be, and that she gets to choose who she decides to be. Anakin chose to be a Jedi in the end, and he was able to pass a hard-learned lesson onto a padawan he loved like his own sister. He was still able to watch out for her in the end while teaching her one more time.

It's never too late to do the right thing, but it's Anakin who has to take responsibility for his actions instead of blaming everyone else for all of his problems.

Apparently that's a lesson a lot of fans need to learn too.

A question Star Wars has always asked us is "how far are you willing to go to save what you love?"

[fantasmadelaciudad]

also house/wilson/cuddy while interesting and definitely plausible. is not fair to cuddy i think. theyre all friends but house is like. a priority to wilson. he got mad at cuddy because she had the gall to choose stability and happiness with someone who wasn't house. house is house. and you want cuddy to get involved with that? free my girl.

[stardusthuntress]

Somehow the fact that Yoda was not present for the highlight of the republic Jedi era is hysterically funny to me

Seen some people asking where Yoda is in The Acolyte trailer and I feel now is the best time to explain that The High Republic was basically Yoda's sabbatical. Getting into drama in this time, he was not. Fucking off to the middle of nowhere and smoking weed, he was.

[luke-shywalker]

let me know if you need anything

“Hey, Solo!”

Ben looked up. The sudden motion triggered a dull ache in his right eye—he winced.

“Uh—sorry.” Amalia came to a halt in front of him in the grass. The tall, bulky Togruta girl always looked like she was going to barrel right into you, but always managed to stop a few inches short. Back when they’d hated each other, Ben had thought this was some kind of intimidation tactic. But now that they were something like friends, he realized that she was just…well…awkward as heck.

Amalia peered at him and at his covered eye, then tapped her own cheek. “You look like one of the deep space pirates.”

“Wow,” said Ben, deadpan. “I’ve only heard that about five hundred times since I came back to Jedi school.”

“What’d they do to you, huh?”

Ben juggled the air with his hands, trying to figure out how much detail to go into. “Uh…they cut my eyeball open, and sewed a synthetic band into it to hold it together and make it stop falling apart. Basically.”

“Whoa. Sounds gnarly, dude.” Amalia paused. “…Can I see?”

Ben laughed. “Bro. Do you want to see?”

“I mean? Kinda? Will you like, die if it’s exposed to air?”

“Listen, I’ll show you, if you want to freaking see so bad.” He lifted the patch. He had to manually pry his eyelids apart—they were still swollen. He closed his left eye, just to see how well he could see her—everything was sort of a bright, slanted blur.

Amalia made a face. “Ew. It’s all red. Is that blood? Nasty. I see a coagulated mass of—something. There is straight-up slime in your eye, dude.”

Ben put the patch back on. “Yeah—I’ve been trying to, like—cry it out, but I can’t think of anything sad enough to make me cry. I dunno. I’ve had a hard time feeling emotion lately, in general.”

He said it, and then realized he hadn’t wanted to say it. He backtracked as quickly as he could.

“But now that you’re here, Mal, all I gotta do is look at your ugly mug,” he quipped.

Amalia rolled her eyes so hard she pretty much just rolled her whole head. “Hardee har har. Have you looked in a mirror? Geez, Solo, you can’t say shit like that to girls.”

“Oh—you’re a girl? Oh my Force, I didn’t realize. Sorry, miss.”

She wound up and punched him in the arm. Hard.

“Ow! Bruh. I’m already injured.”

“Well, you weren’t injured enough,” Amalia huffed. “Fixed it for you.”

“I’m telling Uncle Luke.”

“Yeah, go run and tell your Uncle Luke. Pissbaby.”

Ben tried to think of something clever to retort, but then his eye started hurting again, and he felt kind of sick. He hissed and lowered himself down into the grass, which seemed to initiate a truce.

Amalia leaned down. “You okay, bro?”

“Yeah—fine.”

“Are you still allowed to train and stuff?”

“I’m not supposed to do any ‘strenuous activity’ for four weeks.”

“Well, you were never getting any, anyway,” Amalia snickered. “Now you just have an excuse.”

Ben wrinkled his nose. “Ew. No, I mean…”

“Does lifting rocks with the Force count as strenuous activity? You’re not technically lifting them physically.”

“Eh. I always give myself headaches when I do that normally, anyway, so…maybe just littler rocks.”

“When are you gonna be able to see again?”

“Out of this eye?”

“Yeah, well, which eye do you think I’m kriffin’ talking about, dumbass—“

“I don’t know.”

“…Damn.” Amalia sat down next to him. “Sucks.”

“Yeah, I mean…I know it’s gonna be months. Maybe a year. And I don’t even know if it’ll ever be the same. Probably not.”

Amalia twitched her lips to one side. “Does it bother you?”

“Like, what, the pain? Or…”

“No, like…losing your vision. Like, coping with the loss.”

Ben shrugged. “…I dunno. Sure ain’t the biggest thing I’ve lost. It’s hard, I guess, knowing you’ll never be the same, but…I was already never gonna be the same, so…” He trailed off.

Amalia nodded at the horizon, picking a blade of grass apart with her fingers. “Yeah…I get how that is.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments. A low breeze came and rustled the grass.

“…Maybe I’ll gain some kind of extra Force sensitivity,” Ben said hopefully. “To compensate. Or something.”

“Yeah,” said Amalia. “Or…maybe you won’t, and you’ll just be half-blind.”

Ben threw her a tired glance. “Thanks, Mal. You’re a real pal.”

“What can I say? I try to offer a realistic outlook on life.”

“Hm.”

“But, for real though…let me know if you need anything. Okay, Solo?”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Another punch in the arm?”

“Well, yeah, if you need that, I’m your girl. But, uh, seriously. Like if you need to talk, or…” She gestured vaguely at nothing.

“No offense, Mal? But you are not great at talking.”

“Hey. Never said I was. Just said that I would. Or if you wanna, like, just go throw rocks in the pond together, or something. Go look for weird bugs. Climb that cliffside Luke said not to climb. You know?”

Ben smirked. “Ha. Okay. Yeah. Gotcha. And then I’ll bang my head real hard, and knock out my other eye.”

“Exactly. You get me.” Amalia stood up and dusted the grass off her tunic. “Well…I’m on kitchen prep with Fannie and Meliko tonight, so…guess I gotta go. Do an extra meditation for me, will ya? Fannie drives me nuts.”

“Really? She’s so nice.”

“Yeah,” Amalia scoffed. “That’s what drives me nuts.”

Ben snorted. “Well, okay, Mal. See ya at dinner, then, I guess.”

“Will you see me though?”

“Dude, shut up!”

[shaiyasstuff]

petty | sylus

synopsis : You thought a harmless prank—some red dye, a little glitter—would be funny. But Sylus, your cold, calculating boyfriend, doesn’t get mad. He gets petty.

content : fluff, chaos, N109 Zone au, just sylus being petty af, imagine: rom-com and slapstick comedy

writer’s note : i had this sitting in my drafts for so long LOL

You have no idea how you ended up here.

It was just a silly prank. One you decided—no, more like bullied—into pulling on Sylus.

Luke had that look in his eye, Kieran had that grin, and between the two of them, you’d made a series of very poor decisions.

It started out harmless.

Overheating the dryer until his clothes shrunk just enough to make him glare at his reflection in irritation.

Switching out his toothpaste with mint chip ice cream—cold, foamy, oddly sweet.

Juvenile, yes, but survivable.

But then Luke, bored of mild chaos, decided to up the ante.

Red dye. In Sylus’ face wash.

You should’ve stopped him.

You really should’ve.

Now you’re backed up against the cold steel wall of the corridor outside your shared quarters.

Sylus stands in front of you, arms braced on either side of your head, caging you in. His body radiates heat like he’s just stepped out of hell itself.

And his face?

Still damp.

Streaked red.

A slow, uneven flush blooming down his jaw and neck like a war paint disaster.

You press your lips together to stifle the laugh climbing your throat.

Not because you’re afraid—well, okay, maybe a little—but because if you so much as snort, you know he’ll make you regret it.

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you.

That unreadable, razor-edged stare.

Like he’s measuring the weight of your existence against the trouble you’re worth.

“Sylus,” you start, trying for innocent. “It was—”

“A prank,” he finishes for you, voice low, smooth. The kind of calm that usually precedes mass destruction. “I gathered.”

You open your mouth again, but the words die as he leans in closer, the tips of his silver hair grazing your forehead. His breath ghosts against your cheek.

“You find this funny?” he murmurs, voice like smoke and ice. “My face. My dignity.”

You hold your breath, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“I mean,” you squeak, “you do pull off crimson rather well…”

He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t smile.

He just tilts his head slightly, gaze trailing down to your lips.

“I see,” he says.

You swallow.

“Sylus?”

He shifts forward, just enough that your bodies nearly touch, and then—click.

You glance down. He’s handcuffed your wrist to the pipe behind you.

One-handed. Effortless.

“What—wait, Sylus!”

He steps back, unhurried, brushing red-streaked water off his jaw with the back of his hand. He looks so composed now, it’s almost unfair.

“I’ll be in the lab,” he says casually, already turning away. “Don’t worry. Luke and Kieran are next. But you…”

He pauses at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder, “You can stay there and think about what you’ve done.”

“Sylus.”

“I’ll come back when I’ve decided how to retaliate.”

Your jaw drops. “You’re not serious—!”

He disappears around the corner, his footsteps fading.

You stare after him, wrist tugging against the cuff. “You petty, beautiful menace!”

And somewhere down the hall, you swear you hear him laugh.

You struggle against the pipe for a solid five minutes.

Nothing.

Sylus had apparently decided that if he was going to cuff you, it would be with reinforced titanium-grade handcuffs.

Because of course he would.

You’re still trying to twist your wrist free when two familiar figures round the corner, arguing loudly.

“—I told you he’d murder us, Kieran.”

“No, you said he’d probably murder us. I figured we had a 20% survival rate if we ran fast enough—oh.”

They freeze when they see you.

You, handcuffed to a wall like some criminally adorable hostage. Hair slightly tousled.

A vein twitching in your temple.

Luke whistles low. “Damn. He actually cuffed you?”

“What was your first clue, Sherlock?” you snap, yanking on the cuff. “The literal metal restraint on my wrist or the rage in my eyes?”

Kieran winces. “Hey, hey, don’t be mad at us—we didn’t put the dye in the face wash.”

“You told Luke to do it!”

Luke, affronted, points at Kieran. “You told me you cleared it with her!”

“I said it would be funny! That’s not the same thing!”

You groan and let your head thump back against the wall. “I’m going to kill both of you. Slowly. With a spoon.”

Luke bites back a grin. “I don’t think Sylus is done with you yet.”

“Un-cuff me before I scream loud enough to summon the Onychinus agents.”

Kieran rummages through his pockets. “You think he left a key?”

“Oh yeah,” you deadpan. “I’m sure Sylus, the most paranoid man alive, just happened to leave a key to his special-grade cuffs on me.”

Luke pulls something out of his jacket and grins. “Good thing I have my trusty lockpick set.”

You squint at him. “Why do you have that?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

Kieran leans in beside him, watching like this is a group project. “Careful, if you scratch her wrist again she’s going to throw you into traffic.”

“I will throw you into traffic,” you mutter.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Kieran beams.

“Touch me and I’ll break your fingers.”

Luke finally clicks the lock open with a satisfying snap. Your wrist comes free, and you stretch it, rubbing the sore spot with a glare that could melt steel.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. “Now run.”

“Run?” Luke blinks.

“Yes. Run. Before he comes back.”

The overhead lights flicker.

The three of you freeze.

“…That’s him, isn’t it?” Kieran whispers.

You look up slowly, the temperature in the corridor dropping by a few ominous degrees.

“I think he’s coming to check if I’ve learned my lesson,” you murmur.

Luke’s already halfway down the hall. “NOPE. I’M OUT—”

Kieran grabs your hand and drags you after him. “We live in fear now. This is our life.”

Behind you, the sound of measured footsteps echoes through the corridor.

And somewhere between breathless laughter and panic, you realise, this isn’t over.

Not even close.

You bolt through the corridor with Luke and Kieran like you’re fleeing an exploding reactor.

“He’s definitely tracking us,” you gasp.

“He has cameras everywhere!” Kieran hisses. “We’re screwed!”

You dive into the living quarters and slam the door shut behind you. Luke immediately ducks behind the couch. Kieran throws himself dramatically into the pantry.

You stand there for a beat, hands on your hips.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever been involved in.”

“You’re welcome,” Luke’s muffled voice replies from under a throw blanket that’s doing absolutely nothing to hide his legs.

You sigh, yank open a cabinet, and cram yourself inside.

There’s a broom, a vacuum hose, and a suspicious packet of cookies you’re pretty sure expired last year.

“Kieran,” you call through the cabinet slats. “Are you eating?”

“…No,” he says with his mouth full.

“I swear to every celestial body—”

Footsteps. Slow. Measured.

Near.

All three of you freeze like a trio of amateur criminals hiding from a prison warden.

The door creaks open.

You hold your breath.

Nothing.

No words. No movement.

Just the sound of the wind outside the window and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“I know you’re hiding,” Sylus calls out. Calm. Even. Like he’s enjoying this.

Luke lets out a soft, wheezing squeak from under the blanket.

You slap your palm over your mouth.

Kieran drops a packet of crackers and panics. “Shit, he’s bluffing! He’s bluffing!”

You burst out of the cabinet. “He’s NOT bluffing!”

All three of you scramble again, crashing into each other like some bootleg spy movie.

Kieran ends up tangled in curtain strings, Luke slams into a chair, and you leap over the kitchen counter and miss, landing with a loud thud.

You’re wheezing on the floor when Sylus walks in.

Unbothered. Unhurried.

Looking like an avenging angel with red-streaked remnants still faintly staining his jawline.

He folds his arms and surveys the disaster with something suspiciously close to amusement.

He walks past Kieran, still suspended in the curtains like a very dumb chandelier.

Past Luke, now pretending to be unconscious on the floor.

Past you.

He doesn’t say a word.

Not a glare. Not a threat. Not even a smirk.

Just a quiet, “Clean up after yourselves,” as he heads into his study.

The door shuts with a soft click.

“…That’s so much worse than yelling,” you whisper.

Kieran groans. “He’s plotting. He’s going to take us out one by one.”

Luke peeks from behind the couch. “He knows we’re scared. That’s why he’s letting us marinate.”

“I hate both of you so much right now,” you mutter, collapsing into the nearest armchair.

Kieran flops beside you and steals the remote. “We should lie low. Maybe bake him something.”

“Cookies fix everything,” Luke nods solemnly.

You glare at them both. “If I die, I’m haunting you in shifts.��

—•

It takes you two hours to gather the courage.

Two hours of Luke stress-eating cereal straight from the box while Kieran googled “how to tell if your boyfriend is planning your murder.”

Two hours of internal debates and spiraling scenarios, most of which ended with your disappearance and Sylus calmly denying any knowledge of your existence.

So now you’re standing in front of his office door like you’ve come to face a firing squad.

You raise your hand, hesitate, lower it again.

Then knock. Once. Softly.

“Come in,” comes his voice, smooth as always.

You open the door slowly. He’s seated behind his desk, glasses on, sleeves rolled up, looking for all the world like a man deep in some technical report.

But you know better.

His eyes flick up to you—and stay there.

“I brought tea,” you say weakly, holding up the mug like a peace offering. Or a shield. “And… a cookie. But Luke sat on it.”

He doesn’t move. Just watches you, unreadable.

You inch forward, placing the mug on the corner of his desk. “Look, I didn’t know about the dye. I mean I did, but I didn’t think he’d actually—okay, no, that’s a lie. I thought it would be funny.”

Silence.

“I was wrong.”

Still nothing.

You shift awkwardly, gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Finally, he sets his pen down and leans back slightly, eyes still fixed on you.

Then, just when the tension starts to crack your spine.

A small smile.

A smile.

Sharp. Amused.

Dangerous.

“It’s okay,” he says.

You blink. “It… is?”

He nods. “Of course.”

Too easy. Way too easy.

You narrow your eyes. “You’re not mad?”

“Not at all.”

“Really?”

“Mm.”

You inch back a step. “Why does that sound like a trap?”

His smile widens—just a fraction. “I said it’s okay. That’s all.”

You stare at him. He stares right back, like he can hear every thought racing through your brain. Like he’s already playing the long game and you just stepped into it without even knowing.

“Right,” you mutter. “Okay. Cool. Um. I’ll go now.”

You turn on your heel and walk—more like run—out of the room.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you press your back against it, eyes wide.

“He’s going to destroy me.”

And from behind the door, faint and unmistakably amused, comes the sound of Sylus quietly sipping his tea.

You return to the living quarters with the kind of haunted expression usually reserved for horror movie survivors.

Luke looks up from the couch, one leg slung over the backrest like a human pretzel.

Kieran’s on the floor with a blanket cape, eating cereal with a fork.

“Are we dead?” Kieran asks between mouthfuls.

“Not yet,” you mutter.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “That bad?”

“He smiled at me.”

Both twins flinch.

“Was it… the smile?” Luke asks, lowering his voice.

“The ‘I know exactly where your corpse would never be found’ smile?” Kieran whispers.

You throw yourself onto the couch and groan into a pillow. “No. It was worse. It was the ‘It’s okay’ smile.”

Luke gasps dramatically. “No. He went full passive-aggressive Zen reaper?”

“He said it like it was fine. Like I’m fine. Like life is fine. Nothing is fine.”

Kieran crawls up beside you. “That’s psychological warfare. He’s gonna lull you into a false sense of security. Then, boom—next week your toothbrush explodes.”

“I wouldn’t even be mad,” you say into the pillow. “I’d respect the commitment.”

Luke drops beside you, flinging a cushion over your back like a blanket. “You know what this means, right?”

“That I need to sleep with one eye open?”

“No,” he says solemnly. “It means we go deeper.”

You lift your head slowly. “What?”

“He’s playing mind games. So we play worse mind games.”

“I’m sorry, did you hit your head on the stupid stick this morning?”

Kieran grins. “He’s got fear. But we have unpredictable chaos. Sylus doesn’t know how to handle us when we’re not even handling ourselves.”

“Oh, he knows. He just hasn’t decided which part of the house he’ll burn down first.”

Luke leans in. “Okay, hear me out. What if… next prank, we frame someone else?”

“Kieran,” you snap, “Luke is spiraling again.”

Kieran slurps his cereal louder. “Let him spiral. I want to see where it goes.”

You sit up, rubbing your temples. “You two are the reason I’m probably going to end up in some Sylus-designed containment cube labeled ‘Idiot No. 3.’”

Luke perks up. “That means he already made one for you.”

You chuck a pillow at his face. “I hate you.”

Kieran laughs so hard he chokes on his cereal.

And somewhere in the walls—behind silent security panels—you know Sylus is watching.

Letting you run your mouths.

Letting you think you’re safe.

Which is so much worse.

—•

Dinner is suspiciously… normal.

Too normal.

The lighting is warm. The dining room pristine.

The food? Already served and plated like a five-star meal—elegant, balanced, perfectly portioned.

Which is already unsettling, because Sylus doesn’t cook. He commands kitchens into order.

But tonight, he did everything himself.

You sit stiffly at the table, trying not to choke on the silence.

Kieran sits across from you, eyes darting from his fork to Sylus like he’s waiting for the plate to detonate. Luke hasn’t even touched his food.

Which says a lot, because Luke once ate nachos that had been on fire.

Sylus, meanwhile, is the picture of grace.

Calm, composed, every movement deliberate as he cuts into his food with a quiet snick of silverware.

“How’s the meal?” he asks lightly.

You all jump a little.

“It’s great!” Kieran blurts. “So great. Best thing I’ve ever had. Better than oxygen.”

You nudge your plate with the fork. “Um. What exactly is this?”

Sylus smiles—just enough to show it’s a trap. “Roasted pepper-glazed poultry with herb foam.”

“…Foam?” Luke whispers. “Like… bubbles?”

Sylus turns to him. “Yes. But gourmet.”

Luke nods solemnly. “Tastes expensive.”

You take a careful bite. It tastes incredible, which only makes things worse.

Sylus never does anything without intent. You feel like each bite is a move in a game you didn’t know you were playing.

“Is that saffron?” Kieran asks.

Sylus doesn’t look up. “Would I use saffron so early in the week?”

Kieran panics. “No! Obviously not. What a stupid question. Forget I said it. I never even heard of saffron.”

You sip your water. Pause. Sip again.

“Why does the water taste like mint?”

Luke sniffs his glass. “Mine tastes like fear.”

Sylus hums. “I thought I’d try infusing it. Cleansing properties. Refreshing.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re being nice.”

He looks at you. “Am I not allowed to be?”

“Not like this. You’re being suspiciously serene.”

Luke whispers to Kieran, “He’s baking the tension. Like a soufflé of dread.”

Kieran whispers back, “I’m scared to chew too loudly.”

Sylus finishes his plate, sets his utensils down with the softest clink, and dabs his mouth with a napkin. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry.”

You all freeze.

“I already told you,” he says, folding his hands neatly, “It’s okay.”

You grip the edge of the table.

“No, see, when you say that, it sounds okay, but it feels like I’m about to get smothered in my sleep with a silk pillow.”

Sylus smiles, serene as a saint. “You wound me.”

“Oh my god,” Kieran mutters. “He wants us to feel safe.”

“That’s when he’ll strike,” Luke hisses.

Sylus stands, slow and elegant. “I’ve had a long day. You three can clean up.”

And with that, he walks off—leisurely, utterly calm—leaving behind his perfectly empty plate and three very nervous idiots still staring at their forks like they might be poisoned.

“I think he put lavender in the bread,” Luke says hollowly.

“That’s a threat,” Kieran nods.

You don’t speak. You just slowly lower your fork onto your plate and say, voice soft with realisation.

“We’re already losing.”

—•

It starts the next morning.

Small things.

You wake up and stumble bleary-eyed into the bathroom, only to find your toothbrush… gone. In its place is a child’s pink glittery toothbrush with a tiny bow on the handle and a smug little unicorn printed across it.

You stare at it.

It stares back.

“…Sylus.”

You brush anyway. Because fear is temporary, but oral hygiene is forever.

Down the hall, you hear a scream. Luke.

You race to his room, bursting in just in time to see him holding up a shirt—his favorite shirt—now three sizes too small and bright neon orange.

“He sabotaged the laundry!” Luke wails. “It looks like a highlighter threw up on it!”

Kieran stumbles in a moment later, face pale. “Okay. You know the coffee machine?”

You all pause.

“…What about it?” you ask warily.

“I pressed ‘brew’ and it played classical music. Loudly. Very loudly. And then dispensed chamomile tea.”

Luke gasps. “Decaf?”

Kieran nods. “Herbal.”

You all stand there in silence, the full horror of that registering.

“Okay,” you say slowly, “He’s escalating. This is psychological warfare disguised as hospitality.”

Luke grabs your shoulders. “We have to go off-grid.”

You shake him off. “We live in his grid. He built the grid.”

Kieran paces. “Okay. Okay. So he’s playing the long game. Fine. We stay strong. We don’t break.”

You return to your room to get dressed, trying to reclaim some sense of normalcy.

Your closet is empty.

No. Not empty.

Reorganized.

Everything is sorted by color, occasion, emotional state, and the lunar cycle.

There are even handwritten labels.

LUNAR-ALIGNED NIGHTWEAR.

MILDLY ANNOYED LOUNGE SETS.

IF YOU MUST INTERACT WITH PEOPLE.

You stare.

It’s… kind of impressive.

Still terrifying.

Later that day, your comm device pings with a message.

Hope the toothbrush is to your liking. Unicorns are symbols of purity. Thought it was fitting. —S.

You don’t respond. You can’t.

You sit there in silence, chewing your unsatisfying herbal tea and wondering how one man could be so elegant and so unhinged at the same time.

Back in the kitchen, Luke is attempting to pick the lock on the pantry door—now password protected and voice activated.

Kieran sits on the floor, whispering sweetly to the coffee machine in the hopes it will forgive him.

And all the while, somewhere deep in his office, Sylus watches the surveillance feed with a slight, satisfied smile.

Checkmate? Not yet.

But the pieces were moving.

And he was always ten steps ahead.

—•

It’s late.

Too late for anyone else to be awake. The halls are quiet, dimly lit, the kind of silence that feels intentional.

You creep into the kitchen, determined to retrieve your emergency stash of chocolate hidden behind the vitamin supplements Sylus refuses to acknowledge.

You’ve earned this.

After a day of psychological warfare and sentient appliances, you deserve sugar and solitude.

But the moment you open the cabinet, you hear it.

“Looking for something?”

You jump, nearly drop the jar, and spin around.

Sylus leans casually against the doorframe. Half in shadow. White shirt slightly unbuttoned. Sleeves rolled. Watching you like you’re the most amusing thing he’s seen all day.

You swallow. “Just… needed a snack.”

He hums, low and thoughtful, stepping into the room. “You always get hungry when you’re anxious.”

“I’m not anxious.”

“Of course you’re not.”

He steps closer. Not fast. Not threatening.

Just… there.

Slowly closing the distance until he’s in your space. His eyes flick down to the jar in your hands, then back to you.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he murmurs.

You shrug, heart in your throat. “You’ve been… rearranging my life like an episode of The Big Bang Theory.”

He smiles. Slow. Dangerous.

“You should be grateful. I improved your morning routine, your closet, and your toothpaste. Not many people get this level of attention from me.”

“You replaced my shampoo with glitter gel.”

“I thought you liked shimmer.”

You glare. “Okay, what is this? Revenge lite? Psychological torment with a smile?”

He tilts his head, eyes glittering with that infuriating calm. “Do you think I’d waste my time with petty revenge?”

You hesitate. “…Yes?”

He chuckles. “Fair.”

He leans in just slightly—close enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the way his gaze flickers to your lips and back with deliberate slowness.

“But here’s the thing,” he says softly. “I’m not doing this because I’m angry.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what is this?”

His voice drops lower, velvet and ice. “This is a warning.”

You blink. “A warning?”

He raises a brow. “You see, I’m not interested in getting even. I’m not even interested in winning.”

He leans in fully now, mouth near your ear, voice like silk dragged over steel.

“I’m interested in reminding you… that you don’t play games with someone who invented the board.”

Your breath catches.

Then he steps back. Casual.

Smiling.

Completely composed, like he didn’t just dismantle your spine with a whisper.

“Goodnight,” he says smoothly, already turning to leave.

“Sylus—”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes cool, mouth curved in that infuriatingly perfect smirk.

“Sleep well, sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you in the kitchen, heart pounding, chocolate jar forgotten in your hands.

You stare at the door, then mutter to yourself:

“Okay. Yep. We’re all going to die.”

—•

You don’t sleep.

Not really.

Not after that.

You toss. Turn.

Stare at the ceiling.

Replay his words on a loop in your mind.

You don’t play games with someone who invented the board.

You shouldn’t be thinking about the way he said it. Or the way he’d leaned in—close enough to smell your shampoo, the glitter one, traitorous and lemon-sweet.

Or how his voice had dipped low like he wanted to taste the words.

But you are.

And it’s driving you insane.

You last until just before sunrise.

Then you march down the hall in bare feet and defiance, fully intending to demand an end to this madness.

Maybe yell. Maybe shake him.

Definitely not… whatever this fluttering in your chest is.

You stop outside his office.

The door is open.

He’s seated at the far end, back to you, reading something on a tablet. He doesn’t look up when you enter, but he says, “You’re up early.”

Your jaw tightens. “You planned that.”

“I plan everything.”

You walk in, arms crossed. “The glitter. The water. The closet. The toothbrush. You knew it would get in my head.”

He finally turns in his chair, tablet abandoned. “And yet… you came to me.”

You stare at him.

He stares back.

It’s silent.

That heavy, brittle kind of silence where something has to break.

“You’re impossible,” you say quietly.

He tilts his head. “You’re the one who dyed my face red.”

You blink. “That wasn’t me! That was Luke!”

“But you knew.” He stands now, slow and deliberate, each step toward you heavier than the last. “And you laughed.”

“That was after the shock wore off.”

He stops in front of you, so close your breath hitches.

“You like testing me,” he says, almost gently.

Your voice is soft. “You like watching me squirm.”

His lips curve. “Only when you’re cornered.”

Your heart kicks up. “You don’t scare me.”

“No?” he murmurs, leaning in. “Then why do you look like you’re about to run?”

“I’m not—”

He reaches out—slow, precise—and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your skin like a dare.

You forget how to breathe.

“You know what the real game is?” he says, voice low enough to curl around your spine. “It’s not about revenge. Not anymore.”

You stare at him, pulse racing.

“It’s about seeing how long we can keep pretending this tension is just about pranks.”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out.

He leans in closer, mouth inches from yours. “So go ahead,” he whispers. “Run. Or…”

His breath brushes your skin.

“…stop pretending.”

And in that moment, the air between you threatens to collapse entirely.

Your heart is hammering.

You can hear it—feel it—each thud echoing through your ribs like a countdown.

But nothing moves. Not him. Not you.

Just that impossible closeness and the weight of everything left unsaid pressing in like gravity.

Sylus doesn’t touch you again.

He doesn’t need to.

He’s right there, his presence overwhelming in its stillness, in the way his eyes never leave yours. Not even to blink.

Not even for air. It’s like he’s daring you to look away first.

But you don’t.

You can’t.

The tension is a live wire between you, buzzing, pulsing, dangerously taut.

You could lean in.

He could close the distance. Just one breath more.

One slip.

One break in control.

And everything would unravel.

But neither of you moves.

Because this isn’t about the kiss.

It’s about the pause before it.

The ache of proximity. The heat of restraint.

The mutual, wordless recognition that something’s changed, tilted—irrevocably—but no one wants to name it yet.

His voice, when it comes, is almost a whisper. “Still not scared?”

You swallow, your voice quieter still. “Should I be?”

He leans in just enough for your foreheads to almost touch. “Terrified.”

And there it is again—that exquisite push and pull. That dangerous promise wrapped in affection, mischief, and a power you’ll never quite untangle.

You feel the breath leave your lungs. “Then why haven’t you done anything?”

Sylus doesn’t smile this time. Not quite.

Instead, his gaze drops—briefly—to your lips, then lingers there.

“Because I like this,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“This moment,” he murmurs, voice velvet-dark. “Where you’re still trying to pretend you have the upper hand.”

Your pulse stutters.

“And when I finally take it from you,” he continues, “you’ll know it wasn’t by force.”

His eyes lift back to yours—slowly, intently.

“It’ll be because you gave it.”

Your breath hitches.

And still, he doesn’t move.

Not forward. Not back. Just there.

Waiting.

Like he can stay in this moment forever, balanced at the edge of something dangerous and devastating.

Just to watch you fall first.

He’s still watching you.

Still waiting.

Like he’s reading your every thought, every twitch of hesitation, every part of you that wants to lean in and the part that still clings to the illusion of control.

You don’t speak.

You just look at him.

And that’s all it takes.

Because Sylus moves with the precision of someone who’s already planned this moment ten steps ahead.

One hand rises—fingers brushing your jaw, your cheek, slow as silk.

The other curls gently around your waist, pulling you forward, not forcefully, but with the promise of no escape.

You barely get the chance to gasp before his mouth captures yours.

It’s not a gentle kiss.

It’s deliberate. Consuming.

Like he’s reminding you exactly who you’ve been playing games with.

There’s heat, yes, but more than that—there’s command.

The way his lips move against yours, the way his hand tilts your chin just so, the way your breath disappears entirely beneath his—all of it says, you’ve lost.

And god, you let him.

Your hands curl into his shirt, trying to hold on—anchor yourself.

But he deepens the kiss and everything tilts with it.

The pressure of his body, the taste of him, the sound you make without meaning to—it all blends together in something dangerous.

And then, you feel it.

A faint, thrumming pulse in the air.

A crackle of invisible tension winding around your wrists.

You pull back just barely, lips parted, dizzy. “What—”

Too late.

Energy winds up your arms like silken thread—cool, weightless, until it suddenly binds.

A shimmer of red-black tendrils coils around your wrists, tugging them behind your back, smooth as liquid steel.

Your breath catches. “Sylus—?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

He rests his forehead against yours, breathing steady, unbothered. “You like playing with fire,” he murmurs, voice low and calm. “But you forget—I am the fire.”

With a flick of his fingers, the energy coils tighten. Your arms are pulled behind you, secured to the low railing of the console desk behind you—elegant, efficient, inescapable.

Then, as if that weren’t enough—he slides a metal cuff into place around your right wrist.

You freeze the second it locks.

You know that cuff.

Dull black, sleek. Lined with tech that silences Evol abilities like a mute button pressed against your skin.

It hums to life with a faint click.

And suddenly, you’re still.

Held.

Caged.

Disarmed.

Your eyes widen. “That’s—”

“—the containment cuff from Tartarus, yes,” he finishes, calmly brushing your hair from your face. “You didn’t think I’d forget to prepare for retaliation, did you?”

You stare at him. “You kissed me just to—?”

He tilts your chin up again, eyes sharp, amused, infuriatingly tender.

“I kissed you because I wanted to,” he says. “Cuffing you was just… a bonus.”

Your mouth opens in protest, but he leans in again, this time slower, deliberate, brushing his lips over yours like a threat.

“Now,” he whispers, “let’s see how long you can behave… without your tricks.”

Then he steps back, leaving you bound to the desk, breathless and flushed, completely and utterly at his mercy.

And he smiles.

Not the cold, amused smile from before.

Something darker. Possessive. Knowing.

“You started this,” he says, voice velvet. “Now you get to see how I finish it.”

You tug against the energy binding your wrists. It doesn’t budge.

The cuff hums faintly at your pulse point, Evol completely silenced.

He stands before you, not gloating—no, that would be too easy.

Too human. He just watches.

Calm. Composed.

Like a man who could undo you in a thousand ways and hasn’t even begun.

“Comfortable?” he asks, voice like poured velvet.

You narrow your eyes. “This is so far beyond revenge.”

“Is it?” he muses, brushing a thumb under your chin. “You did challenge me. Repeatedly. In public. With unicorns.”

You glare. “You’re enjoying this.”

He leans in, mouth grazing the shell of your ear. “Immensely.”

And then—crash.

Followed by a shout.

And another crash.

You both freeze.

Sylus exhales, long-suffering, and turns his head just as the door to the control room swings wide open.

Luke bursts in, holding a smoking toaster. “Okay! Who set the oven to incinerate? I was making waffles—”

He stops.

Stares.

Kieran skids in behind him, carrying a fire extinguisher. “We may or may not have caused a minor electrical—”

Also stops.

Stares.

The three of you hold in silence.

You, flushed, cuffed, and restrained against the desk.

Sylus, standing in front of you with the casual elegance of a villain who’s definitely in charge.

Luke, blinking rapidly.

Kieran, slowly lowering the extinguisher.

“Oh my god,” Luke whispers. “Did we walk in on a—”

“It’s not what it looks like,” you bark.

Kieran’s already backing out. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”

Sylus doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. He just looks over his shoulder at them and says, calm as ever.

“Leave. Before I make it permanent.”

Luke raises both hands, stepping back. “Okay! Yep. Carry on. Nothing to see. Just… us. Not here.”

Kieran salutes. “We were never here.”

They vanish.

The door slams.

You exhale through your nose. “I hate them.”

“You encouraged them,” Sylus replies.

“I was peer pressured!”

He hums, reaching for your jaw again, thumb brushing your lower lip. “You always have an excuse.”

“I wasn’t the one who turned revenge into a bondage scene—”

He cuts you off with a low chuckle. “Are you uncomfortable?”

You open your mouth.

Then close it.

Then hiss, “…Yes. In the worst way.”

“Good,” he murmurs, brushing his lips barely—barely—against yours. “Sit in that discomfort. Feel it.”

He steps back again, and your body instinctively leans forward—straining just slightly against the binds.

His smile turns wicked. “That’s one.”

You blink. “One what?”

“One slip.”

You frown. “What is this, a score counter—?”

“Two.”

You shut your mouth. Scowl.

He watches you with open amusement now. “You’re very expressive when you’re trying not to be.”

“Sylus.”

He leans down, gaze inches from yours, voice soft.

“Be good, and I’ll let you go.”

You don’t respond.

His eyes glitter. “Or don’t. I’m patient.”

And he turns to leave. Leaves you there—bound, breathless, and burning.

“Oh my god!” you shout after him. “You’re the worst!”

From down the hall, Luke’s voice echoes faintly, “Is it safe to make waffles again?”

You scream, “NO!”

And Sylus’s laugh—low, dangerous, victorious—follows you like a storm rolling in.

masterlist

[be4chywritez]

man vs. machine | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

Quinn takes a simple claw machine challenge way too seriously

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Summer in Michigan had been great so far—days on the lake, bonfires, and lazy afternoons where you could actually get Quinn to slow down and relax.

A night at the roller rink hadn’t exactly been your idea.

But somehow, Jack and Luke had inserted themselves into your plans with Quinn, and now the four of you were at the most aggressively outdated skating rink in Michigan. The whole place smelled like burnt popcorn and questionable rental skates. The DJ was playing Low by Flo Rida for what had to be the third time.

Jack had already disappeared—probably making enemies with a group of middle schoolers—while Luke was currently smacking the side of a vending machine that had stolen his dollar.

Which meant Quinn had an opening to pull you toward the arcade.

"Finally," he muttered, barely looking back as he led you into the dimly lit room lined with old machines. “I was about two minutes away from throwing Jack onto the rink and letting the universe take it from there.”

You laughed. “I’d honestly respect that.”

Quinn huffed. “Me too.”

You were mid-step when you saw it.

The claw machine.

It was old, the kind with a slightly busted joystick and claw arms that had clearly given up on life. The stuffed animals inside were even worse—off-brand cartoon characters, unidentifiable blobs, and one absolute disaster of a penguin.

The penguin.

It was hideous.

Bubblegum pink, with little black eyes set just a bit too far apart, giving it the expression of someone who had just received life-altering news. Its beak was stitched on at an angle, and one of its wings flopped down like it had simply given up.

It was perfect.

You grabbed Quinn’s arm. “I need that.”

He followed your gaze. “That thing?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t question it. Just nodded, already pulling out his wallet.

“I got this.”

He did not got this.

The first attempt was bad. The claw barely brushed the penguin before swinging uselessly to the side. The second attempt? Somehow worse. The claw closed too early, missing everything entirely.

By the third attempt, Quinn’s jaw was tight, his grip on the joystick getting progressively more hostile.

You glanced at the screen. He had already spent ten dollars.

“Babe,” you started, biting back a smile, “maybe we should—”

“I’ve got it,” Quinn muttered, fully locked in.

That was when Jack and Luke finally found you.

Jack took one look at the situation and blinked. “Wait. This is what you guys snuck off to do?”

“He’s trying to win me the penguin,” you explained.

Jack squinted at the machine. “That ugly thing?”

Quinn didn’t even acknowledge him, completely focused.

Luke, on the other hand, grinned. “How much have you spent?”

“Not important,” Quinn said.

Jack leaned over and checked the screen. “Ten bucks?!”

Luke wheezed. “No way.”

Jack shook his head. “Dude.”

Quinn pressed the button. The claw dropped—

And completely missed.

Jack let out a sharp breath. “Yeah, no. This is painful.”

Luke looked amused. “You ever consider just… quitting?”

Quinn ignored them both, lining up another attempt like his entire career depended on it.

Jack nudged Luke. “Alright, someone’s gotta put him out of his misery.”

Luke sighed dramatically, then reached into his pocket for a token. “Alright, move over.”

Quinn shot him a warning look. “Don’t—”

Too late. Luke had already slid the token into the machine.

With an ease that should have been illegal, he adjusted the claw, barely hesitated, and pressed the button.

The claw dropped.

The claw grabbed the penguin perfectly.

The claw actually carried it all the way to the chute.

Luke bent down, picked up the penguin, and turned it over in his hands before offering it to you.

“For you, sweetheart.”

Jack blinked. “That was—” He exhaled. “Man.”

Quinn just stared.

Luke clapped a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “You still have hockey, dude.”

Quinn shoved him off and turned away. “I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the night.”

Luke grinned. “That’s fair.”

Jack snorted. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Quinn sulked. You happily hugged your slightly deformed pink penguin.

A win was a win.

[misswynters]

Cookie Chaos

featuring. husband! sylus and wife! reader

There was a scent of cinnamon and nutmeg that filled the kitchen, mingling with the holiday music playing softly in the background. The twins, with their small aprons adorned with tiny snowflakes, stood on stools next to the counter, their eager hands reaching for flour and sugar. Their giggles echoed through the room, a sweet melody of joy as they worked under your supervision to bake cookies for the holiday party. You leaned against the kitchen island, watching the scene unfold, the corners of your mouth twitching as you fought to contain your laughter.

Sylus stood at the stove, his expression a mixture of exasperation and mild amusement as he stirred a pot of hot chocolate. “Sweetie,” he muttered, glancing at you with a pointed look, “are you sure this was a good idea?” His voice was low and gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it that softened the scolding.

Before you could answer, one of the twins who were covered in a dusting of flour, grabbed the measuring cup with both hands and with their excitement, spilled half of it on the counter. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his teeth. “Careful,” he said, his tone steady but firm. “We’re supposed to be making cookies, not a disaster zone.”

“They’re doing fine,” you said, biting back a laugh as the other twin grabbed a fistful of sprinkles and tossed it into the air like confetti. A rainbow of tiny sugar dots rained down, landing on the counter and the floor. With the chaotic mess of the baking, Sylus carefully cleaned stovetop. Patience running thin.

However before Sylus could protest, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallway. Kieran and Luke entered, their grins as mischievous as ever. “What’s this?” Kieran asked, leaning against the doorframe. “A baking party without us? That’s just rude.”

Luke’s sharp eyes scanned the scene, taking in the twins’ messy but enthusiastic efforts. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” he said dryly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

Sylus groaned, setting the spoon down with a clatter. “No. Absolutely not. You two are not—”

“Too late!” Kieran interrupted, rolling up his sleeves as he strode toward the counter. “We’re already here, might as well help.”

“‘Help,’” Sylus repeated, his tone heavy with skepticism as he crossed his arms. “The last time you two ‘helped,’ the kitchen smelled like burnt sugar for a week.”

Luke shrugged, already picking up a rolling pin. “That’s what happens when you experiment with caramel,” he said matter-of-factly, ignoring Sylus’s glare.

The twins, thrilled by the new additions to their team, clapped their hands and cheered. “Uncle Kieran! Uncle Luke! Look, we’re making cookies!”

Kieran leaned down, his face level with theirs, and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “How about we make the biggest cookie ever? Like, one the size of a plate.”

Sylus’s brows knit together as he straightened his posture, a looming figure of disapproval. “Absolutely not. Stick to the recipe.”

But Kieran was already pouring extra chocolate chips into the batter, much to the twins’ delight. Luke, ever the quieter instigator, grabbed another mixing bowl and began preparing a second batch, muttering something about “adding some flair.”

You couldn’t help it anymore; a laugh escaped you, as you leaned back against the counter. Sylus shot you a look, one brow arched in mock indignation. “Sweetie, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” you said, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of your eye. “But you’ve got to admit, this is pretty entertaining.”

“Entertaining isn’t the word I’d use,” he muttered, his gaze shifting back to Kieran, who was now attempting to juggle eggs to impress the twins. One egg slipped from his grasp, landing with a splat on the floor.

Sylus inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he grabbed a towel to clean up the mess. “Kieran,” he said, his voice calm but edged with warning, “if you don’t stop acting like a circus act, you’re banned from the kitchen. Permanently.”

Kieran grinned, unrepentant. “Relax, Sylus. It’s the holidays. Live a little.”

Luke, meanwhile, had somehow managed to get powdered sugar on his shirt, his usually impeccable demeanor slightly disheveled. “This is why I don’t cook,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint smile on his lips as one of the twins handed him a cookie cutter shaped like a star.

The kitchen became a flurry of activity, with the twins shouting out instructions, Kieran making exaggerated declarations about being the “best baker in the galaxy,” and Luke quietly fixing whatever chaos his brother caused. You watched it all with a full heart, your gaze drifting to Sylus, who was doing his best to keep everything from spiraling out of control.

Despite his grumbles and sighs, there was a softness to his movements as he leaned over to guide one of the twins’ hands while they rolled out dough. His large fingers enveloped their tiny ones, and his voice dropped to a gentle murmur as he explained how to press the cutter firmly into the dough.

“Like this,” he said, demonstrating with patience that belied his usual gruffness. The twin beamed up at him, their face glowing with pride as they successfully cut out a perfect snowman shape.

You caught his eye from across the room and smiled. “You’re a natural, you know.”

Sylus scoffed, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t start, sweetie.”

By the time the cookies were in the oven, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour dusted every surface, sprinkles crunched underfoot, and smudges of chocolate adorned everyone’s cheeks. Kieran had somehow managed to get frosting in his hair, and Luke was carefully peeling a sticky candy cane off his sleeve.

Sylus surveyed the chaos with a resigned sigh, his hands on his hips. “This is what happens when I let you two in here,” he said, his tone more tired than angry.

Kieran clapped him on the back. “Lighten up, Sylus. The kids had fun, didn’t they?”

The twins, now perched on stools, nodded vigorously. “It was the best day ever!” one of them declared, their face glowing with happiness.

Sylus’s expression softened as he looked at them, his annoyance melting away like snow under the sun. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “It was.”

As the cookies baked, the family gathered in the living room to wait. The twins, still buzzing with energy, sat on the rug and began sorting through cookie cutters, debating which ones were their favorites. Kieran sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, while Luke leaned against the armchair, his expression one of calm amusement.

You settled into the loveseat next to Sylus, leaning into his side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You’re too soft on them,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

“That’s because I know when to pick my battles,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that made your heart flutter. “I’ll never understand how you put up with all this chaos.”

“Because it’s our chaos,” you said, resting your head against his chest. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

When the timer dinged, signaling that the cookies were ready, the twins scrambled to the kitchen, dragging Kieran and Luke with them. Sylus followed at a slower pace, his hand resting on your lower back as you walked together.

The cookies, which were golden and abit deformed, was proof of the day’s chaotic and messy effort. As everyone gathered around to taste them, the twins’ laughter rang out, filling the room with warmth. Sylus took a bite and nodded approvingly. “Not bad,” he admitted, earning cheers from the twins.

As the evening wore on and the mess was slowly cleaned, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. And as Sylus wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close for a brief but tender kiss, you knew he felt the same. The cookies will definitely not be taken to the holiday party, maybe you would stop by the store to buy some.

[astars-things]

Hot laps 

Y/n Hughes x Lando Norris

where lando convinces Jack and Luke to get in the car with him for a hot laps video

Y/N Hughes had spent enough time in the McLaren garage to know that when her boyfriend, Lando Norris, said, “I have an idea,” it was usually code for a complete and utter disaster waiting to happen.

This time was no exception.

“I think we should get your brothers in the car with me,” Lando had suggested one evening after dinner, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, give them the full experience.”

Y/N had raised an eyebrow. “Full experience?”

Lando’s grin stretched wider. “Hot laps. Maybe some donuts. Just to see how they handle it.”

Y/N let out an exaggerated groan, already picturing the inevitable chaos. “Lando, my brothers are dramatic. This is going to end badly.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” he shot back with a wink.

And so, that’s how Y/N found herself standing in the McLaren garage with a camera in hand, preparing to document the impending disaster. Her middle brother, Jack Hughes, was already climbing into the passenger seat of the McLaren two-seater, and she could tell from the look on his face he was mentally preparing himself for the ride of his life. Or, more accurately, the ride that would probably end with him in a crumpled heap on the side of the track.

Before anything could happen, Y/N turned to the camera and grinned mischievously.

“For the record, Quinn did not want to take part in this,” she began, holding the camera up with one hand while gesturing with the other. “His exact words were—” she cleared her throat and deepened her voice dramatically to mimic her eldest brother, “—‘I’m too young to die.’”

The McLaren crew laughed, and Y/N could see Jack trying—and failing—to hold back a chuckle as he strapped himself into the seat next to Lando.

Jack shot Lando a look. “If you kill me, I’m coming back as a ghost and haunting you forever. I’ll be the most annoying ghost in the history of ghosts.”

Lando just flashed him a grin that screamed, this is going to be fun. “Hold on tight, Hughes.”

And with that, they were off.

Lando wasted no time, immediately pushing the car to its limits. The engine roared to life as they accelerated down the track, the corners coming up faster than Jack could anticipate. He was gripping the sides of the car so hard his knuckles were turning white, and his yells were muffled by the helmet, but it was clear from the expression on his face that the ride was nothing short of terrifying.

Then came the donuts.

Lando spun the car with ease, the tires screaming as smoke billowed out around them. Jack, on the other hand, was not having it. His hands were gripping the door so tightly he might’ve left indentations in the metal, and he let out a string of profanities that could only be half-heard through the helmet.

When they finally coasted back into the garage, Jack stumbled out of the car like a man who had just survived a warzone. His hair was a mess, his face was slightly pale, and his legs were unsteady, as if he hadn’t quite realized the ground was still solid beneath him.

He turned to Y/N immediately. “He better not be driving like that when you’re in the car,” he said, pointing accusingly at Lando.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly, trying not to make eye contact with her boyfriend, who was looking way too pleased with himself.

“Mate,” Lando said with mock innocence, holding his hands up in defense, “I’m a very responsible driver when Y/N’s in the car. Right, babe?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at him. “You better be.”

Y/N just filmed it all, knowing this was pure gold. She’d have a laugh for weeks with this footage.

Next up was Luke.

Unlike Jack, Luke had been excited at first. “I just want to see what it feels like,” he’d told Y/N confidently, full of bravado.

But now, as he strapped himself into the passenger seat, his confidence was starting to waver. The smile on his face was slowly fading, and his fingers were gripping the seatbelt like it was the only thing keeping him from plunging into oblivion.

“Uh, maybe not too fast,” Luke muttered as Lando revved the engine, but of course, Lando either didn’t hear him or decided to ignore it.

And then, they were off.

The McLaren shot forward like a rocket, and Luke was immediately pressed into the seat, his face contorting into something that could only be described as pure terror. The turns were sharp, and the speed was unrelenting, and when Lando added a few donuts into the mix, Luke was officially done.

As they finally coasted back into the garage, Luke was the first to exit the car, stumbling out like a baby giraffe who had just learned to walk. He dropped to his knees, kissing the pit lane floor dramatically.

“I have never been so happy to be back on stable ground,” he mumbled in a voice so full of theatrical relief that even the McLaren crew burst into laughter.

Jack, who was standing nearby, clapped Luke on the back. “You good, buddy?”

Luke glared at him, clearly not in the mood for jokes. “No.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was laughing so hard she had to lean against the nearest car to keep from falling over. The footage was already legendary, and they hadn’t even reviewed it yet.

When they finally sat down to watch the clips, there was no question about it—the video was going viral. It was iconic. Pure comedic gold.

Liked by @.devilsnation_86 @.User7 and others 

@.McLaren  From the ice to the track... 

@.Jackhughes and @.lhughes_06 take on hot laps with @.Landonorris behind the wheel! @.QuinnHughes not wanting to take part because he is "too young to die" 

Full video now on our YouTube—featuring Luke kissing the pit lane floor like it’s the Stanley Cup. 

View comments 

@.PitStopQueen This was the best thing I’ve watched in a while. We need a part two.

@.devilsnation_86 Why is this video funnier than it should be 😭 Luke really thought he saw the light

@.f1andpucklove JACK BEING A PROTECTIVE BROTHER “He better not be driving like that when you’re in the car” 😭😭 protect Y/N at all costs

@.user Quinn saying “I’m too young to die” and opting out is so eldest sibling energy 💀

@.User7 Y/N WHEN IS IT YOUR TURN? 👀💨

  →@.Landonorris That’s what I’m saying! Y/N hot lap next? 👀🔥

  →@.Jackhughes Absolutely not.

  →@.lhughes_06 NOPE.

 →@.QuinnHughes Over my dead body.

@.user15 Next episode: Lando gets put on skates and Jack & Luke take their revenge

 →@.McLaren we would but we need Lando in one piece for the season

→ @.User7 Not y/n commenting on the McLaren account so it cant be traced back to her 

@.f1puckcrossovers  I need more hockey players in F1 cars immediately. This is GOLD.

 →@.McLaren we are on it don't you worry 🫡

→ @.Y/n_hughes @.colecaufield @.trevorzegras @.alex.turcotte @.NicoHischier @.tysmith

→@.Jackhughes  @.Y/n_hughes stop trying to recruit my friends to get into the car with your menace of a boyfriend 

→@.trevorzegras I'm down lowkey shit looks fun 

 →@.Landonorris I'm already plotting. Bring the boys

@.colecaufield Ik a spot we can do donuts this summer@.Landonorris

 →@.McLaren for legal reasons this is a joke!! Please don’t try this at home!! 

 →@.user2 Y/n really out here trying to protect lando

→ @.Y/n_hughes 🫡 

@.f1puckcrossovers Y/N switching accounts every 5 minutes is honestly my favorite  

 →@.Landonorris She has two phones – one for the McLaren Insta and one for her personal. I’m just here to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. 😏

→ @.Y/n_hughes Lando you are my king 👑

 →@.McLaren Lando please get off my account  

Load more comments

*photos are from pinterest I do not own them 

Please reblog! Also let me know if you would like a part 2 where y/n is in the car 

[gffa]

I have been drifting back to STAR WARS fandom lately and I have been greatly rewarded for it, especially in the gen fic veins, because there have been some banger fics authors have been putting out! And the thing that really gets me in the fannish heart is that there's more and more fics about the Jedi, both for exploring the characters and the culture. I have been able to find multiple fics that have been kind to Mace Windu! I have been able to find multiple fics that explain what attachment actually is to the Jedi and to Star Wars! I have been able to find multiple fics that lift my spirit up or punch me in the feelings in exactly the right way, both for the usual disaster lineage faves, but also for the Jedi as a whole. I'm serious, that means the world to me in this fandom, and I desperately want to share that with you all. LET ME SHOVE FIC AT YOU THAT LOVES THESE CHARACTERS AND THIS WORLD AS MUCH AS I DO!!

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ wayfinding by night by wrennette, obi-wan & luke & cast, time travel, 10.2k     Before him stood a fellow Jedi, worn and weary with loss. Obi-Wan finds himself on Ahch-To and helps Luke find a path through his grief. ✦ may you inherit his light by notbecauseofvictories, leia & bail & anakin & cast, 2.5k     When your father dies, say the Coruscanti, you are left clutching a star map for a different galaxy. In this, as in many things, Leia is her fathers' daughter. ✦ No Freedom From the Storm (But Peace In Its Midst) by Be_Right_Back, mace & cast, ~1k     Mace is freefalling. On his way down, he meets Hatred, and reaches for Serenity. ✦ "...if you remain his student" by Peppermint_Shamrock, anakin & ahsoka & cast, 3.9k     Ahsoka doesn't leave the Jedi Order. This does not save Anakin. This was never going to save Anakin. Nor stop him. ✦ a distant fire is burning by e_va, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cal, time travel, 47.4k wip     Cal Kestis can move backwards in time (kinda-sorta-not really), and his confrontation with Darth Vader in the Fortress Inquisitorius plays out a lot differently. Fixing the timeline while stuck in his 10-year-old body will be quite the task, but Cal is up to it. He has to be. (Obi-Wan, Anakin, and the clone troopers have no idea what to make of Kenobi's weird new padawan. At least the kid fits in, though.) ✦ No Death, Only the Force by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & depa & shmi, 2.8k     Anakin Skywalker is just about to to free his mother from the Tuskens when the Force rudely yanks him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant – and into Mace Windu's body. Mace, on the other hand, gets tossed into Anakin's body on Tatooine. ✦ Well Met by avocadomoon, obi-wan/padme (unconsumated) & corde & anakin, 19k     "Here and then gone again," Padmé said. "It must be lonely." "Sometimes," Obi-Wan said. "But a Jedi is never truly alone."

THIS FANDOM HAS A HAMMER AND A WHOLE BUNCH OF NAILS AND A REALLY GOOD STAPLE GUN, WE'RE FIXING WHAT CANON BROKE AND NOBODY CAN STOP US NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Begin again by mauvera, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & padme & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 78.9k     Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. ✦ Repetition by Peppermint_Shamrock, cody & obi-wan, time loop, 3k     Cody wakes up from a nightmare on the way to Utapau, again and again.

CANON-COMPLIANT (MOSTLY, UP TO A CERTAIN POINT, WHATEVER) DISASTER LINEAGE: ✦ it's like i can feel time moving by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 5.4k     “Hi,” Anakin says. It's after midnight. “Is everything alright?” “Can’t a man stop by his old master’s room?” Obi-Wan stares at him blankly. “Are you out of food?” ✦ yes, I will take you / I will love you, again by foreverstudent, obi-wan & anakin & cast, time travel, 2.5k     "So you have tried, Padawan." Qui-Gon takes a moment, and his expression is steely but not unkind--the one Obi-Wan remembers from particularly grueling training sessions. "Would you try again, if you had the chance?" OWK!Obi-Wan gets another chance, with a child he once left behind. ✦ No Good Deed Goes Unpunished by kittona, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.1k     Anakin gets a bit overprotective when his loved ones are sick. Luckily, he has the best home remedy for a cold. ✦ nothing a cup of tea can't fix by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.5k     when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former padawan and grand padawan are. or Ahsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit. ✦ Stick Figures by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 2k     war is hard. war is draining. to make it more bearable, little mementos* are routinely given. *mementos: encouraging notes, funny little drawings, little gifts, fun snacks, and poems which might get Anakin in trouble. ✦ When the Ground Breaks by stolen_pen_name23, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.7k     An earthquake causes devastation on the planet of Berchest. Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka work together to help save civilians until disaster pulls them apart. ✦ never fear, young one by marverse, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 6.2k     Ever since her first day of being a padawan, Ahsoka Tano remembers the words that Master Skywalker had once told her. And every time, she wonders, wonders, and wonders. ✦ the street's a little kinder when you're home by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin, 5.2k     "So catch me up," Anakin says. "What did I miss?” Nothing. Nothing happens when you’re gone. “Oh, the usual.” [or: anakin goes missing. obi-wan doesn't handle it well.] ✦ holding anchor by foreverstudent, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 3.2k     At the landing of Point Rain, an injured Obi-Wan allows himself to be sentimental over his former padawan, and Anakin patches up his old master. ✦ Nothing to Say by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & satine, 3.2k     (or: Anakin and Satine don’t know how to talk to each other. Until they remember the very important thing they have in common.) ✦ Aggressive Negotiations by SkyBlue1309, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 2.2k     People forget that Anakin was raised by the Negotiator. He was bound to pick up on a thing or two. ✦ At The Window by Peppermint_Shamrock, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k     In the early days of Anakin's apprenticeship, Obi-Wan searches for him in the Temple. ✦ The Words by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin, 3.9k     Obi-Wan Kenobi has never said I love you in his life. He can say a lot of other things, though.

JEDI CULTURE AND WORLDBUILDING AND CELEBRATION: ✦ Refractions of Light by Independence1776, ezra & kanan, 1.3k     Kanan celebrates a Jedi holiday with Ezra. ✦ The grand outing by Ingata, dooku & sifo-dyas & obi-wan & bant & garen & reeft & yoda & cast, 4.5k     Eight younglings and two Jedi masters on a field trip. What could possibly go wrong? ✦ into the statue that breathes by spoonks, obi-wan & feemor & cast, 8.5k     The night watch in the garden was supposed to be the calmest of them all. No mischievous Padawans “sneaking” in or out, or ne’er-do-well civilians conducting “business” around the lower-level entrances that they didn’t know existed. No the gardens was still, and it was like time was frozen in ice that slowly melted away with the rising of the sun. A slow drip, drip— Drip. Immediately Feemor turned towards the central waterfall. Someone was standing there. Whoever they were, they were small and moved through katas with their hands open like a greeting. ✦ The Temple vs. Order 66 by LauraBWrites, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cody & jedi & jedi temple, 3.9k     The Temple cannot defy the Will of the Force. But it can, it will prepare for the possible outcomes. It can damn well fight back. ✦ We Three Runaways. by Aethir, obi-wan & depa & komari, 2.7k     In which Depa and Obi-Wan bond, and a new sister is found. ✦ A Short Break by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & yoda, ~1k     Luke complains about his training, and asks about Jedi training of old. ✦ we are made of our longest days by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 4.4k     Two years after the events of The Phantom Menace, Obi-Wan and his new apprentice are called to a remote moon to fetch a baby who’s showing signs of a rare, unique power. On their journey home, Obi-Wan reflects on the last child he brought to the Temple and catches a faint glimpse of three possibly entwining futures.

I AM A PREQUELS ERA BITCH AND I'M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM: ✦ the salle at dawn by maragny, anakin & mace, 1.5k wip     Master Windu is the best duellist in the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker is seventeen, he duels Mace for the first time, and it ruins both of them for anyone else. ✦ Saving People Counts as Revenge, Right? by ImperialKatwala, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, time travel, 4.3k wip     Count Dooku of Serenno is an intelligent man. His methods may be a bit severe, and he may not be allowed true freedom to plan campaigns in the war he helped create, but he has always had an eye for strategy. Moving the pieces around the board and plotting out where they will need to be next. So, when he opens his eyes after Anakin Skywalker cut his head off, he knows to take a moment to assess what’s going on. ✦ if I could find solid ground again by maragny, anakin & depa, 1.5k     “You never told me what we’re doing today,” Anakin says, a little hesitant. “I…I don’t know much about Jedi things yet.” "Good thing we’re not doing Jedi things, then,” Depa replies. “We’re cooking!” Or, Anakin and Depa, finding their places in their family. ✦ Birds Fly in Different Directions by Triscribe, jedi & clones, time travel, 14.6k     In the corridor beyond her quarters, other Jedi were emerging from their own doors, most of them wide-eyed with shock. A few merely looked blearily concerned, and Aayla heard snatches of questions as she darted past, queries as to whether everyone experienced the same distressing vision. But those who clutched at their chests or throats, their weak points- those Jedi bore a muted horror in their eyes, and Aayla didn’t doubt they’d just suffered their own betrayals from trusted men.

✦ The Master, The Padawan, and The Force by Pandora151, padme & ahsoka, 1.9k     Padmé Naberrie was never one to procrastinate. More than that, she maintained a steady, consistent schedule — something that she’d managed to keep ever since she was a Padawan. She was always on top of everything, from her responsibilities with the war to training her own Padawan, Ahsoka. She was well-known throughout the Order for being steady, reliable. And most notably, no matter what, she didn’t just forget things. Which made her current situation all the more…ridiculous. ✦ Off-by-one Error by Jessepinwheel, obi-wan & cast, 12.2k     A stranger appears in the Jedi Temple. Nobody knows who he is or where he came from. Nobody knows what has happened to him except that it must have been something truly terrible. The stranger's name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. ✦ splinters of light by wrennette, dooku & jocasta & sifo-dyas & yoda & jaster & jango & cast, time travel, 22.5k     When Dooku's dying consciousness was sent back into his younger body, at first he remembered only that something important would happen on Korda VI, and soon. His investigations brought both clarity and confusion, and a conviction that he must atone for evils not yet enacted. ✦ The Road that Reaches by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & yoda & depa & shmi, 11.5k     As the Council sits down on Naboo to consider the newly-knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi's request to take young Anakin Skywalker as his padawan, they're informed of what transpired on Tatooine – and that Anakin used to be a slave. Mace Windu goes to interview the young child to confirm this, and gets rather more than he signed up for. ✦ the salle at dawn by maragny, anakin &/ mace, 5.1k     Master Windu is the best duellist in the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker is seventeen, he duels Mace for the first time, and it ruins both of them for anyone else. ✦ through the dark (like two flames) by treescape, kanan/cal & quinlan, 5.3k     A Jedi found him on Bracca. Or, in the weeks after Order 66, Cal Kestis and Caleb Dume are reunited on Jabiim. Five years late, on the run from Inquisitors, they have a decision to make. ✦ Resilience by TemporaryUniverse, obi-wan & mace, 3.3k     Twelve years after his defeat at the Battle of Naboo, Obi-Wan's greatest enemy has returned from the dead. Obi-Wan has faced Maul and lost. Now it is time to face himself. ✦ The Buried Truth is Your Favorite Lie by Peppermint_Shamrock, dooku & yoda, ~1k     Dooku tries and fails to leave the past behind. ✦ Hanging On by the Last Threads of Our Hope by IllyanaA, ahsoka & rex, 5.2k     Ahsoka and Rex have endured too much. After the Fall, they stay together until they can't, but the Force has a way of bringing them back together. It's a fact for which both of them are immeasurably grateful.

MULTIGENERATIONAL STAR WARS IS THE BEST STAR WARS: ✦ Future Tense by CeruleanTactician, obi-wan & anakin & luke, time travel, 1.4k     Obi-Wan and Anakin find themselves twenty years in the future, where they meet a young man by the name of Luke Skywalker. ✦ Keepsakes by Coalmine301, obi-wan & leia, 2k     “You were the one who gave me my bantha, weren’t you?” “Yes,” Obi-wan nodded with a small smile. “Your father told me they were your favorite animal. At least then it was.” ✦ Why the Sith Don't Have Class Reunions by Peppermint_Shamrock, anakin & palpatine & maul & dooku & ventress, time travel, 1.9k     Sith apprentices rarely agree with one another (there’s a reason for the Rule of Two, after all), but Darth Sidious is starting to think that it’s worse when they do. ✦ My Dear Padawan by Tulak_Hord, luke & yoda & palpatine, time travel, 3.2k     In which a time-travelling Luke Skywalker successfully saves the Galaxy in perhaps the most horrifying manner imaginable. ✦ The Return by Pandora151, obi-wan & leia & haja, 1.4k     Haja wonders about the others. He wonders about the people he’s sent to the Path from Daiyu — not just Kenobi and the Princess, but that Force-sensitive boy and his mother, the Nautolan teenager from a few weeks ago, the young Kel Dor child and his even younger siblings. Did they all make it home? Are they safe? Was all of this worth it? ✦ Message From Guiding Light by Batsutousai, obi-wan & leia & mace, time travel, 2.2k     Ben and Leia never make it to Mapuzo on the borrowed supply shuttle, instead finding themselves in the middle of the Clone Wars.

FRIENDSHIP WITH CANON ENDED, THIS COOL AU IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND NOW: ✦ Not A Moment Too Soon by Triscribe, depa & kanan & cast, 2k     The first time she stumbled, her padawan said nothing, simply offering his shoulder for her to lean on. ✦ Parallel Lines by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin, time travel, time loop, 10.7k     Darth Vader leans back in his chair, allowing a small smile to form on his lips, hidden by his helmet. “There is no escape from this, Obi-Wan,” he utters. He looks down at the neat line of text, and the Force echoes his words. “No escape from the past.” ✦ through the dark (like two flames) by treescape, ca/kanan & quinlan, 5.3k     A Jedi found him on Bracca. Or, in the weeks after Order 66, Cal Kestis and Caleb Dume are reunited on Jabiim. Five years late, on the run from Inquisitors, they have a decision to make. ✦ Loth-Cats and Loth-Rats by TessaDoesThings, mace & depa & kanan & ezra, 19k     All Mace Windu wanted out of the Post-Clone Wars world was a simple trip with his lineage to the long-forgotten Jedi Temples of the Outer Rim. However, on Lothal, the three might have bitten off more than they expected. The Republic may have triumphed, but the roots of what could have become the empire are gripped in the corners of the galaxy, and it might be time for some aggressive space weeding. Or a coup d'etat. That would work too. ✦ a princess, a farmer, a teacher by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & luke & leia & bail, 1.4k     Early in the morning, a girl and few men knock on a door. They don't wear anything resembling a soldier, but Obi-Wan has been a soldier long enough to notice the tense shoulders and wary looks beneath civilian clothing. She doesn't wear anything resembling a princess, but Obi-Wan knows these fierce eyes and grace coming from a righteous cause. or A New Hope AU where Vader doesn't attack Leia's ship and Leia herself delivers the news to Obi-Wan and consequently Obi-Wan doesn't die. ✦ What I Wouldn't Give To See Your Ghost by Triscribe , depa & kanan & cast, time travel, 1.2k     “Who are you?” Depa demanded, externally calm but internally frantic. “What is this place? And where is my padawan?” ✦ when that day comes by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & maul, modern au/reincarnation au, 44.8k     [or: the alternate universe where anakin skywalker has the chance at some new life…but only if he saves the life of a reincarnated obi-wan kenobi. the catch: neither of them know who the other was in the galaxy far, far away…but that might very well change.]

[kamykan]

Can i request Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra daughter reader where reader finds Alicent crying and upset and comforts her and they end up fucking, viserys lives longer in this story so reader is of age

☆Alicent Hightower x Reader 🏰⋆｡°✩

Alicent Hightower x Fem!Rhaenyra’s Daughter Reader

Request: Yes

Warnings: Smut, pseudo-incest

Word Count: 2359

An: I made the reader bastardphobic so she and Alicent would have something in common + slight Viserys bashing cause he’s an easy target. Also I fear this isn't my best work but I wanted to get it done before I got on this plane I'm so sorry anon. And no title cause I couldn’t come up with one :<

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The halls of the Red Keep were suffocating. The stone walls that once held warmth now pressed in like a cage, trapping you in a place that had never felt like home. Not truly.

You had grown up watching your mother fight for a crown that should have been hers by right, but you had never been one for politics. If anything, you hated the crown for how it affected you. As the third eldest, between Lucerys and Joffrey, you were never in the running for the throne. Because of this, you had watched your brothers be doted upon by your grandsire while you were met with indifference. Viserys had always claimed to love his family, yet his love was selective—reserved for Rhaenyra when it suited him, for her sons—not your brothers. It was obvious that those three bastards weren’t fully your kin; they lacked the Velaryon look, which made you even more bitter.

You were an afterthought.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Dinner had been a disaster.

It had begun with good intentions. A rare gathering between the two sides of the royal family, with Viserys at the head of the table, sick but determined to keep the peace. Your mother sat to one side of him, her sons(you refused to call them your brothers) at her side, while Queen Alicent and her children sat on the other. And you? You had been placed awkwardly between them, the unacknowledged daughter, a silent observer.

At first, Viserys made an effort to speak to everyone, offering smiles and words of affection. But as the evening wore on, it became painfully obvious where his heart lay.

He toasted about your mother first, calling her his “beloved daughter” with a voice thick with emotion. He praised her strength, her wisdom. Then he turned to Jace, to Luke, even to little Joffrey, his eyes bright with pride. He called them the future of the realm, their mother’s legacy. You grinded your teeth

But when it came time to acknowledge Alicent’s children—his flesh and blood—he hesitated. Aegon received a passing remark, Aemond was barely acknowledged, and Helaena was forgotten altogether.

And you? You were not even worth a glance.

You had expected it. But Alicent had not.

You could see the way her fingers curled against the tablecloth, knuckles white with tension. The way her lips pressed together, there was a flicker of pain in her eyes. But the look disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by a carefully schooled expression.

Viserys did not love her children the way he loved Rhaenyra’s. The same way he did not care for you as he did those bastards.

By the time the meal had ended, Alicent excused herself, her composure was barely intact. No one else seemed to notice—no one except you.

Which was how you found yourself here now, in the dim lighting of the sept, watching as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms sat hunched before the altar, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

You maybe should have left her alone. Instead, you stepped forward, your voice low.

“He doesn’t see you either, does he?”

Alicent sucked in a sharp breath and turned, her eyes red-rimmed.

“Princess,” she said, her voice raw. “You should not be here at this hour.”

“I could say the same to you.”

She looked away, fingers clutching at the folds of her dress. “It is not seemly for a queen to cry.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed, stepping closer. “But it is not kingly for a husband to shun his wife and children either”

Her breath hitched.

Without asking, you sat beside her, just as you had before. The silence stretched between you, heavy and unspoken. You let it.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I have done everything for him. I have given him sons, ruled in his absence, and upheld his peace. And still, he…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“He loves my mother more.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Alicent exhaled sharply as if struck. “Yes,” she admitted, closing her eyes. “I expected it, yes, but I did not know that he would make it so… apparent.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, carefully, you reached for her Gran hand. It was cold beneath your touch, tense with grief.

“I understand how you feel,” you murmured. “He ignores me for my mother's sons.”

“Your mother's sons,” Alicent said “Your brothers?”

“No, her sons” you corrected

Alicent nodded, the weight of it unspoken but understood.

You bumped your shoulder against hers in a quiet gesture of comfort. “He’s a fool for ignoring you. I think you’re quite the catch.”

“Do not call your grandfather a fool,” Alicent chided, but her tone was lighter than before, and there was the faintest smile on her lips.

Perhaps, for the first time in both your lives, neither of you were alone.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After that night in the sept, something seemed to shift.

It was subtle—fleeting glances across the dining hall, hushed conversations in the gardens where no one could overhear. You began spending more time with your step-grandmother than with your own mother. You told yourself it was all to spite Viserys. If he would not be there for either of you, then you would be there for each other. You began to favor your uncles and aunt over your supposed ‘brothers’

Every lingering look, every quiet moment spent in Alicent’s company was just another way to claim what Viserys never gave you. He did not notice, of course. And neither did Rhaenyra, too busy with preserving her image in a realm that did not want her on the throne.

But that excuse grew harder to believe with each passing day.

The Queen had always been a picture of restraint, bound by her duties and devotion. But with you, she was something else—unguarded and sometimes even tender.

It was late one evening when she was the one to seek you out. Usually, it was the other way around.

You were seated by the fire, staring at the flames, when she slipped inside your chambers without a word. The door shut with a soft click.

You turned to her, unsurprised by her entrance. “Another difficult night?” you asked, watching as she hesitated by the threshold.

She exhaled, nodding. “Aegon went out into the city again. Aemond is…being Aemond. And Helaena” She sighed, rubbing her temple. “She isn’t speaking again. And the King doesn’t care about any of it.”

Your lips curled into something bitter. “As expected.”

A silence settled between you, thick with tension.

“Maybe you should not be too harsh on him,” you said “After all his old age is getting the best of him, soon he will forget about my mother and her bastards too” You were trying to get her to smile but she didn’t 

Then, slowly, Alicent stepped closer. “You are not like your brothers,” she murmured, almost to herself. 

You snorted “Of course not I have my Valyrian hair and they have Ser Strong’s features”

She shook her head. “Yes, but you are sharper. You see things they do not.”

You grew silent, watching her carefully. “And what is it that you see, my Queen?”

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, in a move so hesitant yet deliberate, she reached out, brushing her fingers along your wrist. It was such a small thing, a ghost of a touch, yet it sent something molten curling in your gut.

She should not be here.

You should not want her to stay.

But neither of you moved away. It was inevitable, really.

Instead, you reached up, your fingers tracing the soft skin of her wrist, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. “This is a dangerous thing ,” you murmured.

“Yes,” she whispered, but she did not pull away.

You could have ended it then. You could have laughed, let go, pretended none of this had ever happened.

But instead, you lifted her hand to your lips, pressing the faintest kiss to her fingertips.

Alicent inhaled sharply. “This is madness,” she said, but her voice was trembling, her body swaying ever so slightly toward yours.

Your lips curled. “Then tell me to stop.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came.

And that was answer enough.

When you pressed your lips against hers, she didn’t pull away, but she was awfully stiff, so you pulled back.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“No, no,” Alicent cut you off. “It’s just that…” She sighed and trailed off. How was she supposed to explain that, as a 30-year-old woman who had been married for 15 years, she had little experience with kissing or lovemaking beyond simply lying there and taking it?

“It’s okay,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll go slow.”

You kissed again, and you led her toward your bed. Despite your promise to take things slow, you couldn’t help but slip your tongue into her mouth when she moaned. As she fell back onto the bed, her fingers dug into your shoulders, pulling you down with her.

You took your time, pressing kisses along her jaw, neck, and shoulders. The low neckline of her dress granted easy access. Your fingers traced the intricate designs of her bodice before reaching for the lace at the back, the delicate ties holding it all together. You paused, looking up at her for confirmation.

“Yes.”

That was all you needed. You tugged at the laces, and the dress fell apart surprisingly easily. More of her skin was revealed, and you eagerly returned to kissing her skin. You pulled her dress off leaving her in her shift but you discarded that as well.

You had to keep yourself from letting out an embarrassing moan as her body was revealed to you. Alicent's breasts were full and round, she had slight weight to her due to her multiple pregnancies, and her thighs were thick and shapely but you couldn’t keep your eyes from the auburn bush in between her legs, she was exquisite.

Your mouth latched onto her breast sucking and teething on them as if you were a babe. Hands flew to your hair as you did so “Ah—” Alicent tugged on your hair but that only encouraged you. As you sucked on one breast you fondled the other, you switched back and forth between sucking and fondling her breast never staying on one for too long.

You looked up at Alicent to see that her head was tilted back, her eyes were closed, and she was red in the face. She tugged on your hair again to get you to continue. “Please…” you obeyed.

You dragged your tongue down Alicent’s stomach which caused her to shiver “You seemed quite experienced in these sorts of things princess” she said in an almost accusatory tone

You chuckled, slightly nervous. You may or may not have snuck out into the slimier side of the city a few times, sometimes with Aegon. “I assure you, grandmother, I am untouched and my maidenhead is still intact. But do you have any right to judge, considering our current situation?”

Alicent pushed your head down, her face was even more red “Do not call me that while we are like this���please”

You smiled as you kissed your way down her stomach, licking at a stretch mark on the way before reaching where Alicent really needed you.

You gave her cunt an experimental lick, she tasted salty and a bit tangy but you liked it. You gave a few more catlicks before diving in completely. You found the hard point of Alicent’s clit and began to lap at it with the flat of your tongue.

“Oh—oh” Alicent whined “Oh gods!”

That spurred you on, the pious Alicent Hightower calling out the Lord's name in vain because of you? You kept going, swirling your tongue and sucking on her cilt. Alicent’s hips bucked but you kept them down forcing her to take it. The queen’s legs clamped around your head, you could barely breathe but you would be happy to die like this

It didn't take much longer, after you gave her a hard suck on her clit Alicent came apart with loud noises. You were afraid a guard would hear and enter the room, so when you pulled away, you quickly kissed her to silence her.

As Alicent trembled beneath you, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps, you traced your fingers along her flushed skin, grounding her back to reality. You had expected her to push you away now that the haze of pleasure had cleared, but instead, she clung to you, her hands fisting the fabric of your nightgown as though afraid you might vanish.

“I should not have done that,” she murmured against your lips, but she did not move away.

You smiled, brushing a damp strand of auburn hair from her flushed face. “And yet, here we are.”

She swallowed hard, her green eyes dark with something unreadable. Guilt, perhaps. Longing. 

“Will you regret it?” you asked, voice softer now. “Come morning, will you pretend this never happened?” Will you ignore me like the king does now?

Alicent exhaled shakily, her fingers tracing the bare skin of your arm in absent patterns. “I do not know,” she admitted. “I have spent my life doing what is right, what is expected. But with you, I…” She trailed off, eyes searching yours.

You did not press her for more. Instead, you kissed her—soft and slow, without urgency. A promise rather than a demand.

“You do not have to decide tonight,” you whispered against her lips. “But when you do, know that I will not let you go so easily.”

A shiver ran through her, though not from cold.

As the embers in the hearth started to die down, you held her close, the weight of duty and consequence momentarily forgotten in the quiet safety of your chambers. Whatever tomorrow brought—whether she chose to embrace this or push you away—you would not regret this night.

And judging by the way Alicent’s fingers remained laced with yours, neither would she

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An: I still think I’m pretty awful at writing smut but I’ll never get better unless a try!

[cuteandhughesy]

When The Seasons Change╰┈➤ LH43

summary: each season comes and with each one, you're falling deeper in love with your best friend. 4 + 1

[word count] 11.0k

warnings: SFW! friends to lovers | slow burn | flirting | fluff | suggestive themes | kissing | read at your own discretion

🎵 forever&more by role model, mind over matter by young the giant, lover by taylor swift, sundress by asap rocky, autumn leaves by ed sheeran, thriller by michael jackson, santa doesn't know you like i do by sabrina carpenter, + dial drunk by noah kahan & post malone

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september 9th, 2015

dear diary <3

it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny. the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friends luke 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11.

anyways :) his party was a girl boy party and we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together but we couldn't because of jack and quinn's hockey.

it was a really fun day and luke loved the sidney crosby shirt I picked for him. but the reason i'm feeling funny is because of lacey patterson. lacey is in our class and was invited to the arcade as well. I thought she had a crush on matthew but the whole time she wouldn't leave luke alone. she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me.

i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special. his soft curly hair and his bright eyes and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love my best friend and now that lacey likes him I can't help but feel angry.

how and I suppose to grow up and marry luke if lacey is in the way???!!!

one: valentine's day

"it was a disaster," you sigh loudly, pushing your way into luke's apartment as he pulls open the threshold of the door. you toss your small pink bag on his counter top and slump into a bar stool, "I mean a breakfast date? I'm not even sure why I agreed to do that with him in the first place- I barely know the guy and breakfast certainly isn't the place to get to know him."

luke slowly makes his way over to you, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the palm of his hand. "I shouldn't say I told you so, but," he says sleepily, pausing to grab a bowl out of the kitchen cupboard, "I told you so."

you groan, dropping your head into your hands. "I really need to listen to you more," you admit, eyes flicking upwards as you watch luke pour himself a healthy sized amount of shreddies. you hate the cereal, you think it taste like dry wheat. luke has always loved shreddies though, so you always have some at the ready. plus, it's the only cereal luke's professional athlete diet allows.

he shrugs with a cheeky smirk.

"not only did he only talk about himself and refer to me as a 'female'," you air quote the condescending title and luke shudders between spoonfuls of cereal. you continue, "but he asked me how much money I make and spilt his orange juice on me - on valentine's day of all days. I swear i'm never spending valentine's day with a man again."

luke wipes the drip of milk off his mouth with the back of his hand, sending you a questioning look, "not even me?"

"you don't count, obviously, or I wouldn't be here." you raise your brows in his direction, as if if to say duh.

luke smirks again but shoves more cereal in his mouth to try and mask it. "right, okay, guys an asshole - so you ended the awkward valentines breakfast to head here at..." he trails off, eyes finding the digital clock on his and jack's shared stove for the first time that morning. "8:56 in the morning - jesus is this guy 80?"

"I wish," you huff, "an eighty year old would probably of kept his nose out of my bank account."

luke snickers, dropping his dirty bowl in the sink.

"do something with me today?" you plead, leaning across the counter top so you can poke his muscular side. "don't let my valentines makeup go to waste."

luke tiredly glances over to you, taking note of how there's a little pink glitter sprinkled across your eyelids and how your usual lip colour was replaced with a more pink toned shade. your smile all cheesy at him and it has luke breaking out of his thoughts - blinking hard.

"how does lunch and the movies sound?" he asks after a moment of pondering. "i'm sure there's some sappy romantic movie playing."

you scoff at his tone, "hey! I love those sappy romantic movies."

"I know," he hums, leaning against the counter infront of you. "that's why I suggested it."

you place your head in your palm, looking up at your best friend fondly as he practically leans over you. "you're the best lukey," you say after a moment, a gentle smile on your face.

he shrugs and the action has his sleep shirt lifting to reveal his toned v-line and happy trail. you don't let your eyes linger, quickly darting your vision away before you turn red.

luke's expression changes briefly, and it looks like he may say something but the sound of jacks bedroom door clicking open has him stopping - eyes darting to the hallway just as his brother shuffles out.

jacks eyes find yours as you sit comfortably in his bar stool. he admits a big yawn and wide stretch before mumbling - "I should've known it was you making all this noise."

he rounds into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle to boil himself some water for his beloved morning coffee.

"ha ha," you say sarcastically.

"why the fuck does it smell like orange juice in here." jack mumbles.

"oh god," you cry out, grabbing your bag and sliding off the stool. now that luke's eyes are properly open and he's aware of his conscious, he sees how your white jeans have an orange liquid stain on the leg. luke smiles fondly as your cheeks tinge pink, brushing past him and his brother and towards the front door, "i'm going home and changing!"

luke laughs gently, following behind you. "i'll text you when i'm leaving here."

"sounds great," you breath out, a smile making its way onto your face. "wear pink," you tease him, shimming your shoulder in his direction.

"happy valentine's day," jack calls out from the kitchen. you catch sight of him shuffling his way past the door and back down the hall, a steaming mug in his hands.

you meet luke's eyes again and hes still looking at you, leaning against the door in his morning glory - plaid pyjama pants hanging low and his arms crossed to make all his muscles stretch deliciously. "happy valentine's day," luke mimics his brother in a fond whisper.

"happy valentine's day," you repeat. "i'll see you later."

"you will." luke says.

when you get back to your apartment complex, marianne, the front desk receptionist, flags you over before you can reach the elevator - her bright red lipstick and heart bobble head band instantly making you smile.

"you have a delivery," she says, pushing a massive vase full of red roses in your direction.

you're momentarily in a state of shock, staring at the bouquet of flowers dumbfounded. "are you sure they're for me?" you splutter after a moment.

marianne nods joyfully, a finger running over one of the delicate pedals. "oh yes, honey! delivery man dropped them off real early this morning."

you pluck the crisp white card from its slot, quickly opening the small envelope with slightly shaky fingers - anxiously wanting to reveal the mystery behind the roses.

just incase your breakfast date doesn't get you flowers. I hope you get all the ladybugs in your stomach today, y/n/n. happy valentine's day.

love, lukey.

two: easter

"you two seriously need to quit this," quinn's voice is a mix of bordem and amusement, eyeing you and luke. "it's every year." quinn concludes, jack nodding in silent agreement as he bites into a chocolate egg.

"quit and willingly loose to luke?" you thumb over your shoulder to the tallest hughes brother - who is standing diagonally behind you with his arms crossed. "absolutely not."

jack tries to hit you with a chocolate egg, but it misses your body - you send him an accusing glare before quinn starts again.

"guys, seriously it's just an egg hunt." he deadpans, eyes dancing between his brother and you.

"it's not just an egg hunt," luke says matter of factly. his arms fall to his sides and he steps closer to you, the fabric of his flannel brushing your exposed shoulder. "it's one of the only times I get to prove to everyone I am the superior egg finder."

competitively, you roll your eyes. luke has been using that line since one of the very first easters you had spent together.

when you were 5 years old, your family moved to your now home city and into the two story house neighbouring the hughes' home. it was almost instantly that you and luke become close - after he got over how'd you'd aimlessly follow him around and want to be near him (you liked the leafs just like him so he liked you soon after).

your parents become very close with ellen and jim and it become a tradition to spend easter together - enjoying the festive meal and activities. even now with quinn in a different country and you, jack and luke all in jersey, you would all find yourself making it home for the easter dinner and egg hunt.

which leads you into your second ever holiday spent with the hughes family - the first egg hunt you had won. luke claimed to his family after they had teased him that he let you win and was, in fact, the superior egg hunter. obviously, you couldn't let that slide and you're still battling luke in your early twenties for the title of egg hunt champion.

"you wish," you tease luke, "a superior egg hunter would of brought proper footwear to ensure they could get down and dirty." slowly, your eyes flicker to luke's feet, eyeing the crisp white air forces that were bound to get filthy.

luke scoffs, taking a step towards you. "oh trust me - i'm ready to get dirty."

"is this how kids flirt now?" jacks voice is like a nail to your eardrum and you quickly take a step away from luke, making your way to the island and grabbing your bunny shaped bucket.

"it's called smack talk," luke answers his brother sharply, also grabbing his egg basket - a bright yellow whicker bin with fuzzy chicks hot glued to the handle: he's been using it forever. "this is a competition."

"it's really not," quinn mutters, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he leans into the kitchen island.

just before you or luke could scold the eldest hughes, ellen makes her way through the back door, her pink floral maxi skirt swaying around her ankles. "you guys coming out?" she questions you all, her brows raised expectantly. "all the young kids are ready."

"oh," luke snickers, "i'm ready."

"we are all ready," you correct, eyeing your best friend briefly.

she smiles fondly, her small hands clasping together - ellen hughes would never get tired of seeing you and all her boys together on the holidays. "the eggs are all hidden - don't forget the winner gets the chocolate bunny!" she sing songs, guiding you all to the large backyard decorated in pastels and flowers.

"see," luke hums, jamming his elbow into his oldest brothers side, "told you it was a competition."

"oh my god."

after a brief speech from ellen, you were informed the oldest kids (you, luke, jack and quinn) would be searching for the blue coloured eggs and the younger kids (consisting mostly of hughes' cousins) would be searching for yellow eggs. the yellow eggs were hidden in easier spots but jim and your dad had ensured the blue eggs were in more difficult places.

10 minutes into the hunt, you've secured 6 of the possible 17 blue easter eggs. you wander further down the large property, eyes frantically searching for more to add to your collection. it isn't long before you catch a glimpse of bright blue - the small egg nestled between a few branches up in one of the trees. you're suprised you could even see it through the leaves, but the sun catches the egg once more and you're positive you're not imagining it.

with a determined head, you place your bucket on the ground near the stump of the tree before grabbing ahold of the lowest branch. you use all your strength to start hauling yourself up the tree, climbing upwards through the leaves and branches.

finally, you reach the height of the easter egg, and you smile victoriously, reaching out to grab it. at your sudden movement, the branch you had been standing on with your one foot gives out, cracking loudly until it snaps downwards. you gasp, hands reaching out to wrap around the thick trunk, watching horrified as your previous spot swings in the air.

you scan the surrounding branches, looking for the most secure one for your full weight - one that wouldn't break off under your feet. there's one behind you that looks promising, so you shift against the trunk, carefully stepping across the gap in the branches until you can fully place your feet on the new one.

you sigh once you feel secure, taking a deep breath to try and let the erratic heart beating in your chest come back to normal. miraculously through your almost plummet back to the ground, you managed to keep ahold of your egg and your gripping that damn blue thing hard, ensuring after all that trouble it wasn't going anywhere.

once your adrenaline levels return to a much more manageable level and the thumping heartbeat in your eardrums subsides, you decide you're ready to start making your journey to the ground - as safe as possible.

you let your one foot steps off, pressing down on a different branch to test its sturdiness. it seems stable enough, and you push off the trunk behind you to help push yourself onto the other branch.

your dress tugs, not allowing you to move over. you frown in confusion, trying to pull away harder. it's no luck, and your eyes close in disbelief. you try and uncomfortably stretch around yourself to catch sight of what the hell was going on and you catch a glimpse of of a sharp broken twig, completely hooked through your dress.

and of course you've left your phone behind on the kitchen island when you decided you'd have to use for it during the egg hunt. you course yourself, making another attempt at wiggling yourself off the ridged twig. it proves to be unsuccessful when you try and move onto the other branch once again and find yourself still being pulled back towards the trunk.

just as you begin to feel waves on panic bubble up your body and tears well up in your eyes, the sound of shuffling below halts your meltdown. you listen more intently, and the melodies of an all too familiar hushed whistle adding to the noise.

luke is wandering around aimlessly, whistling the megan moroney song you had showed him the week prior - clearly he has taken a liking to it as well. he's got his easter basket in his hand, swinging it slightly so his collected eggs roll around.

he is practically right under the tree you're in, and you take the opportunity before it leaves. "luke!" you call your friends name, your voice a mixture between a whisper and a yell - not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to your very uncomfortable and embarrassing position, luke would surely tease you enough to make up for everyone.

luke's whistling comes to a halt, his body coming to a stand still near the large roots of the tree that were protruding from the soil. he spins around a couple times, looking for you.

a beat passes.

"where are you?" luke questions quietly, doing another 360 of the area. he knows you can't be too far because you sounded close, but not directly beside him. his brows furrow when he can't see anything.

"in the tree - i'm stuck." you huff, eyes closing as the rush of embarrassment comes after admitting your predicament out loud. luke still looks confused and unsure, so you sigh, rustling one of the nearby branches to show him that you were in fact in a tree and not hiding in a nearby bush - planning to ambush him for his eggs.

finally luke catches on, looking up towards the thick branches wide eyed and confused. once he catches sight of you, his previous expression morphes into one of mischief and his lips tug upwards in a gooey smile. "oh! don't you look all cute up there."

you ignore his teasing with a dismissive eye roll, "come up here and help me untangle myself from this damn branch."

luke's eyes wander towards the trunk of the tree, landing on your easter basket that you'd previously abandoned in favour of climbing - your blue eggs starting at him in all their glory. luke hums, slowly looking back towards you - his eyes shimmering with a misbehaved twinkle you're all too familiar with. "nah, I think i'll just take some of these eggs and be on my way."

"lukeeeeee," you whine his name, eyes closing in annoyance- luke could really push your buttons when he wanted to.

your hands are starting to hurt from the bark under you palm, and your ridged posture from being caught by the tree is becoming uncomfortable. "come help meeeee," you whine again, "is this how you're going to treat your best friend?"

when you began to speak, luke has already put down his own easter basket, nestling it beside yours wiped his hands free of any sweat and made his way towards the tree, large fingers wrapping around the first branch as he pulls himself up. "relax, i'm coming."

you watch as he quickly climbs up the tree, resembling a spider monkey as his long limbs wrap around branches and you smile to yourself at the thought of luke as a monkey.

suddenly, you begin to feel embarrassed about your situation. you feel even sillier for getting yourself stuck on a branch, something taht could've been avoidable if you weren't so damn stubborn about a stupid egg hunt. your previous smile of relief turns sour, eyes downcast as luke finally gets to your level.

your face has luke mimicking your frown, brows drawn together as he addresses you. he reaches out for you, running a large hand over your curled hair. "hey, don't worry - you're okay."

you muster one nod in acknowledgment, taking a shaky breath.

"let's see," luke mutters between you, leaning into your personal space to attempt in getting a proper look at the damage - one of his arms wrapping around your body for stability as he peeks over your shoulder. "easy peasy," luke adjusts his body slightly, his chest brushing your bare shoulder as he fiddles with the material of your dress.

you fight off a pleasant shiver, controlling your breathing as his long fingers brush against your soft skin, tickling you in the best way. finally, you feel your dress become loose and fall back into its proper position.

you breathe in relief, your smile returning.

"ta da," luke pulls back, his own smile lighting up his face as he hovers over you. now that you're less stressed, you notice how intimate your and luke's position is. his feet's are slotted between yours in the thick branch, his one arm still around your body while his other one moves to wrap around the trunk, holding you both there - his breath fanning over your face.

"you're welcome." he teases you, snapping you out of your own head.

"thank you." you hum nonchalantly, one of your hands coming up and fixing your hair and be ridding of any stray leaves or baby twigs that may of found their way in there.

"what's my reward?" luke questions gently, head tilted as his tongues slowly darts out, licking his bottom lip.

the air turns thick with a sticky tension, making your spot in the tree feel like it suddenly was located on the sun. quickly, your eyes widen, watching the way luke begins to smirk at your flustered face.

you clear your throat, choosing to not read into any underlying meaning. "one of my easter eggs." you answer firmly, a gentle nod of confidence following suit.

he tongues his cheek. "just one?"

you nod once again, a noise of conformation falling from your lips.

luke hums, eyes not leaving yours as he says - "guess i'll just take more."

because you know your best friend all too well,before he can even attempt to descend back towards the ground, you push of the branch, quickly moving around him and scaling down the trunk. you're suprised at how quick you get to the ground and even more suprised you don't hurt yourself in the process.

just as you grab ahold the fuzzy purple bunny easter basket off the ground, you hear luke thump back onto the grass, a gentle laugh of disbelief falling from his mouth.

you turn on your heels to face him, your basket gripped in your hand as you swing it teasingly out towards him - a victorious and teasing smile on your face.

he kisses his teeth and his eyes dart towards the ground to mask his amused grin. he grabs his own easter basket before making the short distance to you.

"like promised," you say, plucking one of the shiny blue eggs from your basket. "your reward." delicately, you place the egg into luke's basket, adding to his collection of five.

almost immediately, luke grabs the egg you just gave him, placing it back into your basket. "no it's okay," he says quickly, hand raised defensively when you begin to furrow your brows. luke continues, "after all, when I win, I want it to be fair and square."

"my god," you roll your eyes fondly, the corners of your lips tugging up in a smile. "whatever helps you sleep lukey."

"I see another one!" jack yells somewhere on the property - quinn's voice following suit as he threatens to fight jack over an easter egg.

simultaneously, your and luke's eyes widen at what you're hearing.

"what's over there?" luke questions, brows furrowed as he points behind you.

you frown in confusion, spinning around to try and spots the object of luke's gaze.

he takes off, calling out some stupid insult about you being a sloth as he does. your scoff of disbelief turns into a laugh, and you begin to run.

you don't remember finding the last egg that was sitting in your basket when ellen counted all of them out - but seeing as you had the most blue eggs out of everyone, you weren't going to complain, taking your chocolate bunny prize happily.

luke watches you light up with joy when you are declared the winner for another year in a row. he finds himself smiling along, happy that when he handed you the egg back you had given him as a reward, he managed to slip one of his own back in with it- just like he does every year.

three: 4th of july

you knew that having another vodka water, adding to your borderline drunk state, wasn't the smartest idea - but you cracked open the can regardless, the sound echoing over the michigan lake.

you take a hearty sip to mask the scowl on your face. lacey laughs loudly, and your annoyance grows because yes it was the same lacey from luke's birthday party all those years ago and yes, unfortunately she was close to some of your other friends so yes she'd often hang out with the group.

this 4th of july weekend was no exception as you watch lacey continue to hang around luke and jack - your jealousy meter maxing out anytime she would lean into luke or touch his arm.

you take another sip, some of the liquid dribbling down you lip after quinn drives over one of the waves, sending trevor zegras into the air as he wakeboards behind you. quickly and rather aggressively, you wipe the spilled alcohol off your chin, eyes still pointedly glaring towards your best friend, his brother and lacey.

as if he can sense your staring, luke turns his head in your direction, quickly finding you on the bench seat. you're sitting with your back turned to wards the water and jacob truscott - who's job is attentively watching trevor as he wakeboards.

luke's initial smile with seeing you is wiped away once he sees that you're annoyed, your clear sour face making him frown. quickly, you turn your head in the opposite direction.

and because drunk you has no self control, you quickly look back in luke's direction, not lasting 5 seconds. luke is still watching you, his brows pulled together in question. just when it looks like he is going to make his way over to you, lacey grabs his wrist, lighting up as she animatedly begins to tell a story that 'he just had to hear!'

you start to become angry. not only were you feeling frustrated because lacey was not your cup of tea and jack invited her to your 4th of july celebration regardless of your feelings, but you were even more upset by the fact that luke was allowing himself to be so easily entertained by her. luke had always treated lacey normally, even though you often expressed how you weren't her biggest fan - which was okay, of course. you didn't want luke to treat her differently just because you didn't like her, but still - it had you feeling jealous.

you take a huffy breath, getting up from your seated position as careful and as stable as you could while being drunk on a moving boat. obviously, it wasn't your best or most successful idea, quinn jerking the boat for trevor's boarding quickly and it has you stumbling - right into the back of jacob.

he turns around quickly, his eyes blown wide as he takes you in. "hey, y/n, you okay?"

and just like that your brain comes up with a plan. one that though you may regret in the morning when you're sober, in your drunkenness sounds perfect - you've never thought of a better idea in your life. you smile at jacob, fluttering your lashes at him. "can I sit and watch with you?"

jacob watches as you bite you lip in question while you await his answer, eyeing him with a hazy look over your bright eyes.

he chuckles slightly, "course you can."

you smile cheerfully and you quickly start to make the small step up onto the seat platform, your small hand gripping jacob's strong shoulder to help balance yourself until you gracefully plop down beside him. as flirtatious as you can manage while being intoxicated, you run your hand from his shoulder down his arm, trying to tickle him.

jacob eyes you suspiciously, a small amused smile beginning to tug his lips upwards. you smile back, bringing your hand into your lap. "what are you up to?" jacob questions after a moment. he doesn't wait for an answer before he turns his head to look over his shoulder - right at luke.

"nothing!" you hum, laying your palm flat on his cheek and bringing his gaze back towards you.

jacob gives you a look, brows raised knowingly. he has to tongue his cheek to not laugh, your plan of trying to make luke jealous obvious. clearly you're not as inconspicuous as you thought.

you shrug once, leaning in even closer to jacob. "just wanted to sit with you is all."

he just nods, shrugging nonchalantly "whatever you say." jacob's eyes leave yours, attention back on trevor on the wakeboard. clearly jacob doesn't mind helping you out, he even lets his hand slide behind you, resting flat on the seat right near your ass - he doesn't even seem flustered at the how if he stretched his pinky out he'd be touching your butt - that kind of makes you feel at ease.

after flirting and laughing with jacob for 10 minutes, trevor's time on the wake board comes to an end, quinn slowing down the boat. in that 10 minutes you'd only managed to get in a glance towards luke three times (jacob kept you pretty entertained oddly enough), and everytime luke was wearing a neutral expression - his arms crossed and listening to lacey.

trevor removes himself from to board, breathless as he climbs onto the swim platform."did you guys see me hit that last wave?" he smiles, unzipping the life jacket wrapped around his torso.

"it was sick," ethan edwards comes up beside you, leaning on his elbows right beside your thighs to talk to trevor - drunk you honestly forget he was here. "fuck man way cooler than any waves I got - quinn must have his favourites." ethan continues, playfully side eyeing the oldest hughes brother as he makes his way over to the back of the boat.

"ha ha," quinn says sarcastically, grabbing onto the rope of the wake board paddle and pulling it towards the boat. "if I actually had favourites, trevor wouldn't be one of them."

trevor cries out and grabs his peck like quinn's words had actually reached out and stabbed him, "ouch."

quinn ignores trevor, rolling his eyes dismissively - although his lips move upwards in a small smile. "alright," he breaths, finally getting the wakeboard onto the swim platform, " who wants to go next."

looking back over your shoulder once more, you see that luke still isn't bothered enough in coming over to you - listening to some story lacey was blabbing on about to jack and dylan duke.

you hum, shooting up off the bench. you wobble slightly, ethan grabbing your ankle reflexively to try and steady you. you smile triumphantly, "i'll go." you make your way over to quinn, taking the protective life jacket from trevor's outstretched hand.

quinn looks you up and down, eyes hesitant. "you sure?"

you nod without looking at him, stepping into the boots of the board. if flirting with luke's friend wasn't working in getting his attention, hanging off the back of the boat as you zip through the water surely had to.

you clip the buckles down, the sound snapping against the boots. quinn bends down in attempt to help you get secure, but you dismiss him, dropping off of the swimming platform and into the water.

"y/n..." quinn starts, his eyes filled with doubt.

"i'm good." you take the ropes right out of quinn's hands, wrapping them once around your wrist. "let's do it."

he sighs but doesn't protest any further, leaving you alone. quinn walks off the platform, making his way back to the driver's seat.

the engine starts a few moments later, the roar making you smile slightly - adjusting the slippy rope handles as you prepare to start.

"fuck yeah, y/n!" jack calls, hands bracketed around his mouth as he cheers for you, his voice echoing over the lake.

after getting your thumbs up, quinn starts to drive, the movement of the motor vehicle slowly dragging your body towards the surface, gaining speed until the wakeboard comes to the top. jacob slaps the bench seat a few times in a cheer, him and ethan both praising and cheering you on back on the boat. your smile widens at the boys and luke's brows furrow.

the boat is going the proper speed now, and quinn starts to do circles around himself to create the desired waves - you swallow nervously as you see the first one approaching. you can feel your hands loosen on the rope again , and naturally your fingers unhook themselves in order for them to readjust. the wave hits sooner than anticipated, and you first jolt forwards quickly before being flung backwards, your feet coming out of the boots as you get launched into the water.

you push up to the surface with your shaky arms, a gasping breath leaving your lips as you take in the air.

the boat has been stopped, and there's a group of worried faces staring at you from about 10 feet away. you definitely shouldn't of dismissed quinn when he wanted to check over your buckles, and you definitely shouldn't of let your guard down when trying to re-grip the rope.

you start to leisurely swim back towards the boat, feeling much more calm now that you’re not being panicked underwater. “i’m good!” you laugh it off, approaching the platform.

jack is waiting for you, his hand outstretched in your direction. you grip it, your wet palm slapping against his calloused one as he pulls you out of the water. he says your name through a smile, “that was badass."

then you notice how luke’s there as well, looking much more stressed than his brother - eyes frantically searching you for any visible injuries. "are you okay?" he breaths.

"yes," you sigh firmly. jack finally lets you go, allowing you to stand yourself up on your own feet. as you place your left foot down fat, your ankle screams in protest and gives out on you - making you topple forwards with a yelp. "fuck."

instantly, luke is there, rushing towards you and grabbing a hold of your arms. he keeps you upright, leaning down so he can look into your eyes. “what hurts?”

"my ankle," you whine quietly, eyes moving down in embarrassment. not only were you drunk, but you were now hurt and in enough pain for your intoxication to not even be able to mask it. "it really hurts lukey." you whisper, your throat becoming thick with emotion.

"okay, okay," luke wraps an arm around your waist, putting all of your weight onto him as he helps you off of the swimming platform and onto the carpeted area of the boat. you wince quietly in the short time it takes to get to the front of the boat - away from prying eyes that would only have you feeling even more embarrassed.

"sit down." luke tells you sternly, helping in lowering you to the seat. tears are desperately wanting to escape, the entire day of events weighing heavy on your chest.

luke turns away from you, reaching into the blue drink cooler - digging through the ice and cans of seltzers until he finds a plastic water bottle. he grabs it, walking back towards you with an unreadable expression, sitting across from you.

"i'm cold." you say as soon as luke sits down. you can’t decide if you’re cold because your wet and the sun is starting to set or if it’s because luke’s knees keep brushing yours, igniting goosebumps.

your emotions come to a head, and a tear finally falls, trailing down the round of your sunkissed cheek.

"let's take off the lifejacket, okay?" he reaches towards you, unzipping the wet jacket. your boobs definitely spill out of your bikini top in a way that is probably unflattering, no longer pushed against you by the life jacket. “give it back incase somebody else wants a turn.” luke grabs dylan dukes abandoned towel, wrapping the fluffy cover around your shoulders.

his teasing gives right over your head.

"okay," luke sighs quietly, tapping his two fingers against your thigh."let me see your ankle, put it on my leg."

you do as he says, bringing your leg up and over so you can comfortably have your knee bent and foot laying flat on luke's muscular thigh - his leg hairs tickling your painted toes.

softly, luke uses the water bottle he'd earlier grabbed as a temporary ice pack, pressing it to your ankle bone. the coolness feels nice, and it already is helping the pain.

your mood turns even more unpleasant when you her lacey's high pitched laugh echo around you - assaulting your water logged ear drums. you keep your eyes downcast, fingers wordlessly fiddling with a loose strand on the beach towel.

you sniffle, "wouldn't you rather be with lacey?" your jealously is definitely showing, but you're too irritated with the days events to be civil. lacey, combined with hurting your ankle and having luke practically ignoring you all day has your filter disappearing.

one of luke's long fingers slowly starts running along the back of your calf. "nah." he says gently. you can feel his eyes on you, but you're still not sure if you can handle looking into his eyes in the state your in.

your brows raise in suprise, and your disbelief is still prevalent in your tone. "really? she sure gives you a lot of attention."

luke shrugs once. "you're hurt. you take priority."

his answer has you scoffing slightly, and you tug harder on the loose towel thread. "only because i'm hurt?" finally, you look back towards him, eyes pinched with irritation at his answer.

in all seriousness, luke looks at you. his lips almost tug down in a frown, and his eyes begin to soften at your red cheeks and glazed eyes. "no. you always are my priority."

now you feel embarrassed. although lacey is more outgoing and flirty than you are, you are luke's best friend - not her. quickly, your hand comes up to wipe away any fallen tears, "sorry." you mumble.

luke dismisses your apology, tapping your heel twice around the cold water bottle he was still pressing against you. he eyes your somber expression again, and kisses his teeth.

your eye him as he scoots closer towards you. "can I tell you something?"

you nod, naturally finding yourself leaning in as well.

luke's lips begin to turn upwards. "watching you flirt and spend time with jacob today...It made me feel kind of jealous."

you feel your heart come to a hard stop and then speed up again - beating frantically at luke's confession. you're sure your mouth is opening and closing like a fish, but you're too baffled to say anything.

he continues quietly, "because, you know, he was taking my best friends attention away from me."

you deflate.

luke shrugs, "and I know that's hypocritical because I was kind of being a dick today but still...jacob doesn't deserve your attention - neither do I honestly but-"

you shake your head, bumping the leg that wasn't resting on his thigh against luke's knee, stopping his rambling. he's still your luke, no matter what. he's awkward and sweet and....yours.

"you're the only one I really want to give my attention to, lukey."

he smiles gently, "really?"

"yeah - i'm drunk," you remind him, "I can't lie even if I want to." you both laugh at your half slurred confession, leaning into each other as you do so.

as quinn pulls the boat back towards the dock of the hughes summer house, you can't even remember why you'd been annoyed with luke in the first place - too focused on him nursing your ankle and his soft smile.

four: fall festivities

"jello shot?" you ask through an exhale, a bright smile on your face. you gesture the small serving tray full of colourful desert towards the two girls in front of you. thankfully, they smile back, happily taking the alcohol from you.

you nod in parting before picking up your pace once more, gripping the tray harder as you practically jog around your condo - determined to serve everybody.

when luke had mentioned jack offered to host the annual new jersey devils halloween party, he told you that him and his brother were worried about the limited space in their apartment and were unsure of how they were going to make it work. seeing your best friend in a predicament had you immediately offering your place to throw it.

not only was your space bigger, but your only neighbour was a wealthy businessman who was never home, so there would be no noise complaints and no issues with fitting the devils roster in for a halloween themed party. obviously your offer had nothing to do with being totally into your best friend and going to any extreme to see him happy - obviously.

there was a few more people attending than you were initially expecting to show up - which mostly consist of the wives and girlfriends of the team, but still, you hadn't factored that in. the added people had your hosting skills dialled up to an 11, and you can't remember the last time you had sat down or properly mingled with anybody - too busy making sure everything was stocked.

you squeeze through a group of laughing girls you don't recognize, and you whisper your apologies as you move through them. "jell-o shot?" you question, approaching dougie, dawson and john near the fireplace.

"oh hey," john greets you, dressed like a minion. "you look like you're having a great time." john laughs and they all reach out to take a halloween coloured shot cup off your tray.

"I am if you are," you smile politely, his teasing remark flying over your head - you're too tired and stressed to digest his words properly.

you're definitely not having a great time. your hand is cramping around the orange and purple striped serving tray, your fake eyelashes are stabbing you, your legs are killing you, and don't even start on how your faux fur coat has you sweating profusely.

"cruella, right?" dawson is the one to question you, gesturing to your halloween costume - a simple black dress paired with a spotted coat, red gloves, pearls and the wig of course.

you nod, "in the flesh."

"y/n!" you hear jack call your name loudly from the opposite end of your condo, his hands clasped around his mouth as he shouts for you. "we need more punch."

you sigh gently, throwing your hand in the air blindly to give the middle hughes a thumbs up - a conformation that you heard him and you'd make another bowl.

"sorry, would you guys excuse me - duty calls." you manage to give a laugh towards the three devil players, all dressed in contradicting costumes, spinning on your heels and speed walking away.

you push through the swinging door that leads to your kitchen, half empty tray of jell-o shots and the glass punch bowl you grabbed on the way balanced in your hands. thankfully nobody was in your kitchen, and the sight of emptiness has you breathing in relief.

you loved having everyone at your place and you especially loved how everyone felt comfortable in dressing up and allowing you, jack and luke to host - but you couldn't wait for the night to be over. you always underestimated the hassle of hosting, and this night is proving that.

you fan your warm face with a gloved hand, trying to cool yourself off. your free hand is pouring some koolaid mix into the empty punch bowl, the powered crystals becoming liquid as they touch the orange juice and sprite concoction.

the door creaks, alerting you as somebody enters your once quiet kitchen. your shoulders deflate naturally, and your already preparing for another task or hosting duty that you'd have to attend to.

you look over your shoulder and are met with the comforting gaze of your best friend. luke smiles softly at you, which makes him look extra cute in his dalmatian outfit. "hey," luke starts, making his way over you, "I haven't seen you all night. you okay?"

the relief floods through your body, but a different wave of emotion quickly replaces any prior ones. you feel yourself wanting to cry, because no, you're not doing okay. "i'm stressed, lukey, i'm sorry. I love hosting but my costume is so hot that i feel permanently wet from how much i've been sweating. my body hurts and i'm tired and I feel like the list of things I need to do is endless and-" you exhale, dropping the wooden mixing spoon to the counter. "respectfully I can't wait for it to end."

luke frowns, reaching you in two long strides. "don't apologize for feeling overwhelmed." he shrugs, glancing over his shoulder quickly, "it's definitely more people than I expected."

you sniffle, laughing gently as you nod in agreement. "definitely."

he smiles softly, and like he's done a million times before, luke gently reaches out, his thumb swiping under your eye to brush any fallen tears. "let's head up to the roof for a bit," he hums, a slight frown tugging his lips, "get some air."

you exhale shakily. "jack needs the punch though."

"fuck him and fuck the punch," luke tells you sternly, "they can survive without it for a little bit, okay?"

"okay," you whisper in agreement.

you live on the top floor of your condo, so the journey to the buildings rooftop wasn't long. luke leads you up the small flight of stairs and out onto the decorated deck like he's done many times, guiding you over to your and his claimed spot.

immediately, you fall back dramatically into the lounger, eyes meeting the starry night sky above. you can feel like you can breath properly, and the only noise you can hear is the city below.

luke smiles at your now closed eyes and starfish pose, making his way over to his favourite green lounger beside you, mimicking your laying down position. he tucks his arm behind his head, using his own forearm as a pillow as he looks at the stars.

a beat passes.

"i'm sorry you're stressed." luke tells you quietly.

you open your eyes, turning your head towards him. luke is already watching you, eyes guilty and frown present.

you shake your head at him, dismissing his apology. after all, he didn't do anything wrong. "it's fine, luke, really."

"I just don't like seeing you struggling," he admits.

"if anything," you start sincerely, "you've made my night 100 times better in like the 5 minutes i've spent with you - which by the way, is crazy, how is this the first time since you got here that we've hung out."

"I know," luke smiles, "i've missed you."

you eye him teasingly, a pout forming on your face. "did my little dalmatian miss his master?" you question in an animated baby voice, one of your hands reaching out to poke his ribs.

luke jolts away from your jab, pulling a disgusted face in favour of your baby voice. regardless of his expression, he was laughing at your question. "you're a weirdo."

"yeah but i'm your favourite weirdo," you say matter of factly, turning your entire body towards him on top of your blue coloured lounger.

luke smirks, "you're definitely top 10."

"top 10?" you screech with a laugh, "not even top 5....I really gotta up my game. who's my competition?"

luke kisses his teeth, in a deep faux thought as he hums. "well, obviously borat is up there."

"obviously," you repeat.

"and my friend y/n is up there too - she's the weirdest one of all." luke sends you another teasing glance, "instead of being normal and saying 'butterflies in my stomach', she calls them ladybirds like a grandma and she eats ranch with almost everything."

you smile, "she sounds hot."

luke tongues his cheek, eyes finding the stars again. another beat passes, the two of you enjoying each others company in silence of city nightlife.

the crinkling of a bag has your brows furrowing, glancing back at luke just as he pulls out a half empty bag of cheeto's. "hungry?" he asks you, holding out the open bag in your direction.

you grab a handful of cheesy sticks, "I didn't even know your onesie had pockets." you tell him with a snicker, plopping two cheetos into your mouth.

"this dalmatian is full of surprises," luke says between chews of the monster handful of chips he'd previously shoved in his mouth.

you snort, grabbing another handful. "of course he is." you're thankful that luke had miraculously snuck cheetos from the party out to the roof, because you think the last time you ate was breakfast. your stomach rumbles at the thought. you swear, your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. "I should've known you'd bring snacks."

luke eyes you with faux suspicion, sucking his thumb clean of cheese dust. "are you calling me fat?"

"luke," you laugh, head lolling away from him and his teasing comments. "you're insufferable."

a heavy drop of water hits your face, starling you. another one follows quickly after, hitting the round of your cheek before sliding down to your ear.

"what the hell," luke mumbles. you eye him quickly, watching as he wipes the few drops of rain off his face. "is that rain?"

you roll your eyes gently, "yes, luke, it's rain."

at your words, the water seems to unleash from the gray night clouds, a thick downfall of rain pouring over you and luke. you sit up quickly, squinting towards the sky. your faux fur coat is quickly becoming drenched, sticking to your skin uncomfortably. "let's go before my lashes fall off." you sigh gently - the thought of heading back into the hectic environment of your condo sounded anything but desirable.

as if luke can sense your hesitation, he gets to his feet quickly, stepping into your line of sight. the dog ears on his onesie are dripping with water, flopping pathetically as he looks at you. he wipes his face of rain, "not yet - let's just stay."

you sigh his name, "it's raining."

"so?" he shrugs, costume sagging down his body, heavy with rain.

"so," you breathe an amused laugh, "we will get wet."

"nothing wrong with a little bit of water," you can see luke smirk through the heavy rain, and you can't help your own lips from tugging upwards at the sight.

you exhale gently, "I don't know."

luke dismisses your hesitation, grabbing a hold of your soaked gloved hands and pulling you towards him, bringing you both farther out the roof deck. "just one dance before we go back to the party - I haven't gotten to dance with you allllll night."

you let him drag you wordlessly, giving him a deadpanned looked.

"plus you deserve a dance - my hard working host." luke adds cheekily. his one hand slides around your waist, pulling you against his front - swaying you to imaginary music gently.

"kiss ass," you mumble, voice just notable over the sound of rain pelting the concrete rooftop. you can feel luke's chest rumble with laughter, his fingers flexing around your hand. "you always dance without music hughes?"

he licks his teeth, looking down at you. your skin looks so soft and dewy from the rain, your eyes dilated from the dark atmosphere. you are blinking up at him gently, your eyelashes wet in a way that makes you look even more beautiful. luke clears his throat, spinning you around dramatically - just barley stopping himself from slipping on the slick ground in the process. "only with you."

luke pulls away from you quickly, but you don't have time to question him before his grip on your hand tightens and he's twirling you back into him. you screech gently, the movement taking you by surprise.

"so you only dance with me or you dance with others but they get the privilege of dancing with music?" you ask him teasingly - this time it's you who is twirling luke around, and the sight of your 6ft2 best friend spinning in a soaked dalmatian onesie was unbeatable.

luke comes back towards you, taking his original position with his strong forearm around your torso, interlocking your fingers together in a waltz like stance. "I only dance with you," he whispers through the rain, "and you're the only one i'll ever dance with - especially in the cold rain without music." he tries to tease you, but his words fall on deaf ears.

you're looking at him with a swirl of emotion in your eyes and your heart beating heavily against your rib cage.

luke seems to stop as well, looking down at you with just as much admiration and tenderness that you're surely showing him. he visibly swallows, his adam's apple bobbing against his throat.

you watch luke's eyes fall to your lips, swiping over them before finding your eyes once again. at first you think you imagine it, but then quickly his eyes dart back to your red lips and the ladybirds start going frantic in your stomach.

was luke about to kiss you?

your blinks start to slow naturally, preparing to shut fully as luke begins to inch in closer to your face, leaning over you in a way that most definitely was uncomfortably straining the muscles in his back.

the door to the rooftop swings open with a squeak before bagging against the wall loudly - echoing all around. startled, you and luke jump away from one another, breathing heavily as your adrenaline comes to a spike.

your body feels freezing without luke's pressed against it, and you shiver uncomfortably, wrapping your soaked fur coat around yourself further.

jack is eyeing you both through the october rain, "hey," he starts, adjusting the plastic firefighter helmet onto his outgrown head of hair. "i've been looking for you guys! y/n we're out of chip dip."

you start walking towards the middle hughes sibling. "sorry, i'll get the other one out the fridge." you sigh, brushing past him and back into the dry hallway of your building.

luke closes his eyes, exhaling loudly.

"you good?" jack asks once luke makes his way over, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "what where you two even doing out here - it's raining."

luke sends his brother a glare, "I know that," he walks back into the building,wiping his face clean of all lingering rain water. "you're so annoying." he quickly walks away from his older brother, leaving him by the door.

jack throws his hands up, "what did I do?"

+ one: christmas

sabrina carpenter's heavenly voice slinks through the warm home, nestling in your ears comfortably. just over the music, you hear ellen hughes laugh happily at something your mom says - both of them in the kitchen, chatting and finishing off a bottle of wine while they clean up the dinner dishes.

jim and your father have been watching hockey tapes in the den, both quiet and content by themselves - them too indulging in a festive spiced wine.

it was christmas eve, after all.

you laugh warmly as quinn dips you low to the ground before pulling you back upwards quickly, sending a quick dizzy wave over you - which is probably the alcohols fault, not quinn's.

jack applauds quinn's elaborate dance moves, smiling with flushed cheeks as he watches you both from his spot sprawled on the worn brown love seat. "where'd you learn to dance like that huggy?" the middle hughes brother questions after a sip of beer, brows raised inquisitively.

quinn doesn't answer and he only spins you on the spot. you hum, "you jealous jack?" your body faces quinn once more, and your momentum has you stumbling slightly, tripping over your own feet and bumping into your dance partner.

"i'm not jealous of anything," jack snickers to himself like he's in on some crazy secret you aren't aware of - but you don't have the mental capacity to unfold that, still laughing and dancing on your family homes shaggy rug.

"yeah yeah whatever," quinn dismisses his brother teasing, rolling his eyes so only you catch it. you giggle at the sight, head falling onto his shoulder as you do.

the stairs creek under somebodies weight, and a moment later luke walks back into the family room empty handed, meeting your eyes. "I can't find it." he tells you.

you leave quinn, which was expected, turning your body and attention towards the youngest brother. "well where did you look?"

after your christmas dinner, ellen and your mom had started going on about childhood memories in their typical sappy mom fashion - laughing and crying while you and the boys eyed them with amusement. your mom was the one who brought up the scrapbook you and luke made together after your shared trip to the zoo on your 11th birthday, which was something even you had forgotten about.

jack had immediately starting pestering and teasing the two of you for being quote on quote cheesy (even though you were kids so obviously you were cheesy - but you digress.) jack begged for you to get the scrapbook so he could see it, and then once he started, quinn claimed he had never seen it and also wanted to look.

"i mean," you had started gently, eyeing luke with a hesitant smile, "it would be nice for us all to look at."

one look at your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, luke was sighing, pushing off the couch. "where is it?"

luke thumbs over his shoulder, "the hallway closet."

"really?" you hum, deep in thought as you think about where else your beloved shared scrapbook could possibly be hiding. "I mean, we could check my old bedroom closet? sometimes mom keeps stuff in there."

jack groans dramatically from the couch, head lulling back. "hurry up and go find it! I need to see that picture of the giraffe licking y/n's face."

quinn and jack crack up just at the thought of the picture you'd told them about - the image captured you shrieking as the giraffes purple tongue slides up your cheek.

"you whiny baby - we're going!" you huff, walking towards the stairs with luke in tow, both of you making the journey up the creaky staircase.

your room is located at the end of the hall, still painted the sage green you had chosen when you and your family first moved in. you dodge your suitcase that you left in the middle of the room, all of your clothes sprawled across the cream carpet from when you were frantically searching for your christmas sweater this morning.

"holy shit," luke says from behind you, eyes wide as he looks around your childhood room, "I haven't been in this room since like....highschool."

you open your closet doors with a small laugh, amused at your best friends amusement. you start rifling through the millions of photo albums and frames that your mom did fill your closet with - like you expected.

"oh my god, we were so little." luke smiles, picking up your lady bug decorated picture frame that was sitting on your tall dresser - right beside you original speak now CD and jewelry box. you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, smiling automatically at the sight of him looking at the picture. "god where are my front teeth?" he laughs, placing the frame back down.

it's a picture of you and luke when you were both 10, smiling happily poolside in your bathing suits - luke's akward grin made perfect by his lack of front teeth. you giggle with him, the memory of that picture just as fresh now as the day it was taken.

you rifled through a few more old photo albums until your fingers land on the tiger striped spine of your and luke's scrapbook. you gasp, "I found it!" you pull it out of the closet quickly, standing from your previously crouched position to once again face luke. you start flipping through the pages, giggling at the pictures as you do so. "this is amazing."

"dear diary," luke says with a laugh. you look up inquisitively, a quirk to your brow. he's got your fuzzy purple notebook clutched in his hand, flipped open to a random page. "it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny." he reads your entry out loud, an amused smile on his face.

"oh god," you laugh, a hand covering your face in embarrassment- already cringing at your younger self.

luke's eyes light up as he reads the next line, laughing as he does so. "the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friend luke's 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11." he quotes you, "you were such an optimistic happy kid." he laughs.

your heart stops and you can feel your face fall. memories of the day you had wrote that specific diary entry come flooding back to you. you pale and your stomach plummets unpleasantly - you half a bottle of wine taunting you. "luke - give me the diary."

he's still laughing to himself, book propped open with a thumb and middle finger. he continues reading, "we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together." he quotes you. he pauses, thinking back to that huge indoor party, "it was a sick arcade." luke hums.

you step towards him, "luke seriously lets go...jack and quinn are waiting." you're suprised at how fast your brain came up with an excuse to leave your room and the diary behind - your anxiety through the roof.

he couldn't fishing reading it.

he skims farther down the page, laughing loudly, quoting your writing more. "she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me - you still sound like this by the way."

you try and lunge towards him and grab the diary, but luke is quicker than you (he always has been) and pulls the book farther out of reach. "i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special - you're too kind to me," he teases you.

"luke," you huff, hands trying to reach around him to grab the book once again, but he spins away, affectively dodging you once more. "please put that away"

luke continues to read the diary entry, your stomach plummeting deeper. "his soft curly hair and his bright eyes-"

"give that to me now." you panic, voice shaky as you beg. you make another attempt at getting your diary out of luke's hands, but he rushes towards the other side of the room, giggling at the writing of child you complimenting him.

luke starts again, "and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love -" he stops reading, face falling. you watch intently as luke's eyes dance over the rest of the lines on the page, reading your 11 year old self's love confession.

you're already thinking of excuses for the entry - you were just a kid and didn't know what love meant or what marriage meant. but you weren't 5 when you wrote it, you were almost a pre-teen who definitely knew what marriage was. that won't work.

you'd could say that lacey was just having you feeling weird and angry - like she always has, but that excuse doesn't seem plausible.

you watch luke anxiously and silently, knawing on your lip as a way to channel your nerves. you were already preparing for your friendship to plummet. now that luke has read your deepest darkest secret - the life long crush you've had on him - you were ready for him to not want to be your friend anymore.

logically, you know you should say something and at least try and convince him that it was nothing - after all it was almost a decade ago and you could play it off as a joke. but words don't come out, and you're stuck in a plummeting hole.

"wow," luke eventually mutters, closing your diary gently.

"luke," you whisper waterly, eyes following him as he walks your diary back over to your dresser, tucking it between taylor swift and framed pictures. you think you might start praying, desperate for luke to want to stay your friend or at least stay in your life - you can't imagine living without him.

"be honest with me," luke starts, "was this just a silly little crush or do you still...love me?"

you mumble his name again, eyes watering with a million emotions that you definitely weren't expecting to experience on christmas eve.

"y/n....tell me."

you meet his eyes, and all you can mutter is a quiet 'I still do', a tear falling down your face and dipping towards your collarbone.

a beat passes.

"well this is pretty embarrassing, right?" he says with a gentle laugh, running a hand over his head of curls in disbelief.

"what?" you mumble.

"I mean over a decade of loving each other in secret, neither of us ballsy enough to say anything- I wonder how many people knew." he laughs to himself, visibly thinking.

you shake your head, "wait what?"

luke steps towards you, closing the space between your bodies in favour of holding the side of your face, his thumb wiping away the trail of water from your tear, resting against your cheekbone affectionately. "I love you."

"you do?"

he nods, "of course I do, wanna read my endless texts from quinn and jack telling me to man up and confess my lifelong crush on you to prove it?" he challenges you teasingly, a playful tone accompanied by a tinge of nerves.

finally, you smile, lips tugging upwards as you reach out for him, your small hand gripping his wrist to keep him close to you. you shake your head, "no, I believe you."

luke laughs breathily, forehead touching yours as he brings your faces closer together. "thank god because those texts are embarrassing." his words are like a million tiny kisses, tickling your face in a way that has your nose scrunching.

"and you reading my diary wasn't?" you question with laughter.

"god no," luke dismisses, "it was cute."

"kiss ass," you smile, running the tip of your nose down the bridge of luke's, nudging your faces closer together. your other hand reaches for his waist, keeping him close.

"yeah." he agrees, free hand moving up to hold the other side of your face. luke smirks one more time before leaning in, finally kissing you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[sanesaviour]

Spidey🕸️🕷️

yea, it’s head cannon time:

1. at fist he doesn’t get along with team, they are pretty weak team due to lack of teamwork but after fist year Peter becomes really good leader, he knows everyones strong side and how to push them to do their best

2. only team member who isn’t afraid to argue with Fury

3. Peter feels guilty about everything that happened to Harry, the whole Venom incident messed them up but even after Harry stopped talking to him Peter never really stopped seeing Harry as his closest friend (he always stares at him when he sees him in hallway and thinks about what could he done differently)… MJ tries to make them talk about it even tho she really don’t know what happened between them

4. when he get’s higher score on test than Ava he pretends he doesn’t had to study at all (even tho he studied all night long) just to annoy her,… even tho they are good friends they never study together due to their academic rivalry… also Ava is probably only one who can keep Peter in line besides MJ and aunt May

5. genuinely likes to spend time with Danny because he finds him so calming, even more after his and Harrys friendship fell appart. also when Peter found out that Danny is insanly rich he was angry about all the time he let him buy food without anything in return when they were hanging out (before that Peter thought that he is just teenage boy who have 0 knowlage about concept of money since he spend most of his life in k’un-lun)… also Danny is only one who doesn’t get annoyed with Peter’s jokes

6. Sam and Peter have most chaotic team ups, whether they work together on mission or school project it’s guaranteed to end in something exploding, a crazy amount of collateral damage or Fury looking so done

7. always gets post battle snacks with luke, they have tradition of hitting up fast food spot after mission, Luke always orders enough food for three people while Peter scarfs down with ridiculous amount of fries (when others are with them sam usually tries to steal some, but Luke blocks him)… also Peter likes to annoy luke just for fun, he likes to make terrible puns or tries to web Luke’s snacks away, he finds it hilarious when Luke gives him that deadpan “really?” look

8. Peter is low-key jealous that MJ is so effortlessly cool while he is sometimes human disaster, she is his best friend and he starts to value their friendship more after that incident with Harry… and no matter what, MJ and Peter will be always friends first even if things gets sometimes bit complicated

9. he refuses to swear, instead of cursing he says something like what the web lol and accidentally called Fury “dad” several times

This took me way too long to write… Anyways feel free to ask anything ;))

[willowsnook]

“Love is or it ain’t. Thin love ain’t love at all.” (LH)

Luke hughes x bsf!reader

book prompt list here

—---------------------------------------------

“Isn’t that Tyler over there?” Your friend Rachel asked, looking over your shoulder. Sure enough, you turned around to see your boyfriend on the other side of the bar, talking very closely to another girl. Forcing down the anger, you shrugged. 

“Yeah,” you told Rachel who gave you an incredulous look. 

“Are you not going to say anything?” She questioned. 

You shook your head, “He’s just talking to her.”

She gave you a look of disbelief, “It’s so crazy to me how much you let him disrespect you.” 

“He’s not disrespecting me,” you snapped. “I’m not going to police who he can and can’t talk to.” 

“Who’s disrespecting you?” Luke asked, coming up behind and handing you a drink. 

“No one.” “Tyler.” You and Rachel spoke at the same time and you shot her a glare. Luke looked over to where Tyler was and grimaced, but smartly didn’t say anything. 

“Oh come on Luke, I know you agree with me,” Rachel whined, giving your other best friend her best puppy eyes.

“Y/n can make her own decisions,” Luke said, giving a non-answer. Rachel rolled her eyes, mumbling that she was going to go check on your other friend.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in your chest. Luke leaned against the bar beside you, his eyes occasionally drifting to where Tyler stood.

"You know," Luke started carefully, "you don't have to pretend it doesn't bother you."

"I'm not pretending," you insisted, though your grip tightened around your glass. "I'm just... being understanding."

Luke scoffed quietly. "There's understanding and then there's..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Then there's what?" you challenged, turning to face him.

His eyes met yours, intense and sincere. "Then there's settling for less than you deserve."

The words hit harder than you expected. You looked away, focusing on the condensation dripping down your glass. Tyler's laugh echoed across the bar, making your stomach twist.

"He loves me,” you say, trying to sound confident. The look on Luke’s face tells you that you definitely don’t. 

Luckily, he doesn’t press, changing the conversation to something else, “So you have your charity event this week right?” 

“Yes,” you beamed, rattling off the final details that you had been working on. You worked for a local school district as a Communications Director and had organized a celebrity basketball game to raise money. Tyler had played basketball at Rutgers, and promised you that he’d supply the celebrities to play the senior high schoolers.

“What time do I need to be there again?” Luke asked, he was playing on the celeb team as well, much to Tyler’s annoyance. 

“Game starts at 3 so maybe 2:30?” You suggested. 

“What time are you getting there?” He asked. 

“Noon,” you told him and he nodded.

“I’ll be there at noon.” 

—--------------------------------------------

By 2:45, you are starting to get a little nervous. Tyler was no where to be seen which means neither were any of the other guys that he recruited. You were outside, your phone to your ear again as you called him for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Everything okay?” Luke asked, coming up behind you. He had been waiting for you outside of the gym at noon and had helped put up all the decorations. 

“Yeah, just can’t get a hold of Tyler,” you said, not wanting to tip him off ot the impending disaster. You should have known this was going to happen; Tyler wasn’t the best at keeping commitments but you tried to understand. He had a really demanding job, or so he said, so the weekends were really important for him to recharge. 

“Okay well people are starting to show up, so I’ll see what your other coworker needs me to do,” Luke offered and you nodded. He watched you a second longer, seeing right through the fake smile you threw at him. 

By 2:55, Tyler finally called you back. 

“Hey babe, I’m so sorry, I’m just not feeling it,” your boyfriend told you over the phone. You could hear a group laughing in the background of the call but chose to ignore it. 

“Okay, what about the guys you were supposed to bring to play?” You asked, trying to stay calm. 

“Yeah, none of them are able to make it,” he said. 

“Did you even ask them?” You demanded, anger finally seeping through. 

"Whoa, calm down," Tyler said, his voice taking on that patronizing tone you'd grown to hate. "It's just some stupid school thing. It's not that deep."

Your heart sank. Months of planning, all the promises he'd made, and this was how he saw it? "This isn't just 'some stupid school thing,' Tyler. This is my job. My career. I told everyone you were bringing players!"

"So what? Find someone else." In the background, you heard a female voice calling his name.

"Who's that?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.

"Nobody," he replied quickly. "Look, I gotta go. Good luck with your little game or whatever."

The line went dead before you could respond. You stared at your phone, fighting back tears of frustration and embarrassment. How were you going to explain this to your boss? To the seniors. 

Putting your head up high, you headed back inside, prepared to cancel the event. 

“Hey pretty lady,” a voice called out, as they grabbed the door to open it for you. 

“Jack?” You asked, staring at Luke’s older brother. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well I’m a celebrity, so obviously I’m here to play,” Jack said with a grin. 

You smiled softly, but it fell quickly knowing that you still weren’t going to have enough players, “I don’t think-”

You were cut off by an arm being thrown your shoulder, one that belonged to the Devils’ captain.

“C’mon, y/n, excited to see us play a more interesting sport?” Nico asked and you laughed. Dawson and Jesper weren’t far behind their captain, along with a couple other of Devils’ players. 

Leading the boys to the court, you watched as they joined Luke to warm up. God you were so lucky to have Luke, you knew you could always count on him to show up. Jack jogged over to where you were, grabbing a water bottle. 

“I didn’t know you guys were coming today,” you said. “I’m surprised you all got approval to skip practice.” 

“Well we all just walked out so, I guess we’ll deal with the consequences later,” Jack said and your eyebrows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Luke called us 20 minutes ago,” Jack told you. “He said your dumbass boyfriend bailed and that we needed to get here as soon as possible.” 

You stood there, heart in your throat, watching Luke laugh with his teammates as they ran drills and took practice shots on the court—for you.

He hadn’t hesitated.

When Tyler bailed, when your event almost crumbled, when you were about to fall apart in the parking lot—Luke stepped in without being asked. He called in favors, pulled together an entire team of actual celebrities in less than half an hour. Not for the publicity. Not to impress anyone. Just for you.

And suddenly, it hit you.

Every late night call he answered. Every time he showed up early and stayed late. Every time he listened to you cry over Tyler—over guys who didn’t even deserve to know you. Every time he bit his tongue while you settled for less.

He had been there. Every damn time.

And now, watching him smile as Jack passed him the ball—his hair messy, cheeks flushed, and eyes flickering over to you like he couldn’t not check in—it was like everything snapped into place.

This was love. Not the kind that flakes or makes excuses or calls your dreams “not that deep.” Not the kind that dims your light or shrinks you down.

Love is or it ain’t. And with Luke...

It was.

You felt your feet move before you even made the conscious decision, walking toward the court. Luke spotted you first, jogging over immediately, brows knitting with concern.

“Everything okay?” he asked, wiping his hands on his shorts.

You nodded. “Yeah. I just—”

You hesitated, searching for the right words, the right breath, the right moment. But screw it. He’d earned more than hesitation.

“I’ve been so stupid,” you said. “All this time, I’ve been waiting for someone to show me what real love looks like, and it’s been in front of me the whole time. You were in front of me the whole time.”

Luke blinked, stunned into silence. “Y/n…”

“You didn’t just show up today, Luke. You’ve always shown up. Always. And I think—no, I know—that I love you for it.”

He stepped forward, his hand finding the side of your face like it belonged there. “Took you long enough,” he whispered, a soft smile curving his lips.

You leaned in, forehead resting against his. “Yeah. But I’m here now.”

And when he kissed you—on that squeaky gym floor, with basketballs bouncing in the background and your heart finally beating in sync—you realized something else:

Real love doesn’t beg to be seen. It just waits—quiet and steady—until you’re finally ready to recognize it.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Prince Charming

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After an almost disaster at the club, you’re saved by your prince charming whom you want to thank with a drink. Minutes later, you realize that Prince Charming is just that, a fairytale. Weeks later, you run into him again and it’s not exactly the reunion you’re hoping for.

Square Filled: doctor is in the house for @mfbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

After waiting in the long line to get into the club, you’re finally granted access. The bouncer has to make sure there aren’t too many people per fire department codes, but you’re glad you’re even in at all. You bought yourself a new shirt that you’d never wear otherwise, and you really want to show it off. It’s a small sequin shirt that is covered with fake diamonds and shiny jewels, and it only covers your breasts like Ariel’s shell bra. The back has a few clear straps to make it look backless that clasp in the front. The only thing holding this shirt together is the small rusted clasp in the front.

You bought it at a thrift store that was part of a costume, so the clasp has definitely seen better days. Your only goal is to go home with someone since it’s been a while since you’ve felt the warmth of another body against yours.

“Okay, let me get us some drinks!” you yell over the music.

You push through the sea of bodies to the bar counter where you put in your drink requests. On the other side of the bar, by where the pool tables are, is Spencer, Derek, Matt, and Luke. Derek had a hard enough time trying to get Spencer out of the house, but he’s glad he’s here. He doesn’t get to hang out with his friends a lot since getting out of prison. He wanted to shut himself away from everyone, so being around people is good for him.

“Thanks for coming out, man,” Derek says and sips his beer.

“What choice did I have? You practically dragged me out by my hair.”

“Soak up the solitude, my friend, because in three weeks, you’re not gonna know peace,” Derek laughs.

Derek and Savannah broke up because her job took her halfway across the country, and Derek’s entire life is in Virginia. He loves being with the BAU and didn’t want to leave it. It wasn’t an easy decision to break up, but it was easier knowing that they were drifting apart. She was always at work and doing stuff for her coworkers like events raised by the hospital.

So, to prevent wallowing in self-pity and heartbreak, Derek asked Spencer to move in with him. Rent is climbing up a very steep hole and soon, being an FBI agent won’t be enough to cover rent. Luke and Matt start telling a story about when they went to talk to a victim’s family, but Spencer zones out of the conversation. He’s heard it once and that’s all he needs to remember every detail.

He looks around the bar at the different groups, just people-watching when he notices something shiny on the dancefloor. The sea of people part so he has an unobstructed view of you in that shiny sequin top. You’re dancing with your friends without a care in the world of who is watching. Spencer’s lips part slightly as he takes in every detail of your face and body.

He’s only dreamed of finding someone as beautiful as you. In prison, he’d create a woman in his head just to get him through the night, but none of that compares to you. Hair that flips as you dance, long legs leading out of a very short skirt, sparkly skin thanks to body glitter, and pouty red lips that he’d really like to kiss.

He looks at his friends but they aren’t paying any attention to you. They’re too engrossed in their stories to notice the beauty on the dancefloor. He looks back but frowns when he doesn’t see you. Your friends have dragged you from your spot on the dancefloor back to the table.

“We think we found someone for you,” Beatrice giggles.

“Oh, no, should I be worried?”

“No, no, he’s cute. I am seventy percent sure that he’s single.”

“Seventy? I don’t like those odds.”

“Well, I saw him with a woman earlier but she left and I haven’t seen her since. He doesn't have a ring on.”

“Hmm, why don’t we try looking for someone else I know who for sure is single. In the meantime, let’s go dance!”

You drag Bea and Aurora to the dancefloor, drinks forgotten. You’ll just get new ones when you want something else. The music flows through your body as you sway your hips to the beat, allowing your problems to slide off you. Your body twists too far to the right, and you feel the pop rather than hear it. You gasp and put a hand to the front of your shirt because the clasp had broken. If you remove your hand, your breasts will pop free.

“Shit! My shirt just broke!” you yell over the music. “I have to go home. I don’t have anything else to wear!”

“Here, take my shirt.”

Based on the starstruck looks on your friends’ faces, you know whoever is behind you is stupid handsome. You turn and are taken aback by how hot this man is. Curly brown hair, honey-brown eyes, a lean body, and super tall. Taller than any of your ex-boyfriends.

“Were you watching me?”

The stranger chuckles. “No, I was passing by when I heard you. Here, take my shirt.”

“No, I can’t.”

The words die on your tongue when he starts to unbutton the front of it. He’s wearing a black undershirt, and you find yourself disappointed you won’t be able to see what he’s hiding under those clothes.

“It’s okay, I have an undershirt on.”

He slides off his shirt and wraps it around your shoulders. Using his body like a shield, he blocks you from unwanted gazes and your friends keep eyes off you from behind. With one hand holding your shirt together, you awkwardly put the stranger’s shirt on. Once both arms are through, he starts to button it up so that you can keep a hand on your sequin top.

The shirt is bigger than you, so it hangs loosely, but it smells too good for a shirt. People nudge Spencer as they dance, causing him to inch closer to you. The act of him buttoning up your shirt is weirdly intimate, and you’re sure your friends have shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Let me buy you a drink,” you offer.

“You don’t have to.”

“I insist or else I’ll lose sleep over it.” Spencer doesn’t respond but lets you drag him to the bar counter. Luckily, a couple had just gotten up so you two take those seats before someone else does. “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer,” he smiles.

“Thanks for offering your shirt to me. I would have to have gone home to change. You’re my hero.”

“I don’t know about that,” he blushes. “I’m just glad you’re able to stay.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I wouldn’t have met you and I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”

“Lucky you, then,” you grin.

“As weird as it may sound, I’ll have red wine. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real fast so you can just order for us.”

“Sure,” you nod. Spencer gets up and turns away, but you stop him. “Spencer? It’s not weird at all.”

As soon as Spencer leaves, you put in an order for two glasses of red wine. Five minutes turn to ten that turn to twenty. This man isn’t coming back. Maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he was only trying to be nice and made an excuse to get away the first chance you got. You slap some bills onto the counter before leaving to find your friends.

“Where’s McHottie?” Bea grins.

“Flaked on me. I think I scared him. We should just go.”

“What a bitch,” Aurora slurs.

“I’m calling an Uber now,” you say and pull out your phone.

As soon as Spencer got done using the bathroom, he hurried back to the bar counter. The line was extra long because some guy was fucking in the stall. A worker had to barge in and throw him out before he was able to use the restroom. He would have left to tell you but the line was getting longer and he really needed to go.

However, when he sees the empty bar counter, he frowns. The glasses of wine are still on the counter with a crisp twenty, and Spencer can’t help but chuckle. He knew you were too good to be true. Maybe you were creeped out by him when he offered you his shirt and was relieved when he had to go to the bathroom. He shakes his head and heads back to his friends.

“Where have you been?” Matt asks.

“Where’s your shirt?” Derek asks.

“Trash. I spilled something on it,” Spencer lies.

While you’re beautiful, you might just be a conniving little thief, so he tries his best to get you out of his head. After all, he’s moving in with his best friend. The day comes sooner than Spencer realizes. Luckily, Emily had given him and Derek the week off to get the new house ready. Derek wanted out of the house he and Savannah shared, so they needed new everything.

In the weeks that followed the club night, you had a hard time getting Spencer out of your head. It’s like even though he was a flake, he was a gorgeous one. You’re lounging on your bed scrolling through social media when you get a call from your brother.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, are you busy right now?”

“Maybe. Depends on how much you wanna beg me to help you,” you grin.

“You’re evil. Look, the guys that were supposed to help me move bailed. Can you come help for a couple of hours?” You stay silent as you think. “I’ll give you money for Starbucks.”

“I’m on my way.”

He laughs and hangs up before you can change your mind. You search your closet for something clean to wear. Laundry day is tomorrow, and you weren't planning on going anywhere today. The only thing that’s remotely clean is the shirt Spencer let you wear. As soon as you got home that night, you took it off and it’s been on the floor ever since.

With a shrug, you put that on and head out. Your brother lives fifteen minutes from you, but you make it in ten minutes due to traffic being light. The moving van is posted outside his new house with two cars--your brother’s and his new roommate’s.

“Knock knock. It’s me,” you call out when you walk in.

“In here!” You walk into the kitchen to see your brother, Derek, next to his roommate who has his back to you. Wait… Wait a damn minute… “Y/N! Meet my roommate, Spencer.”

Spencer turns, confirming your suspicions. It’s Spencer from the bar. Wait, he’s your brother’s roommate? You don’t know much about his coworkers since you tend to lead very separate lives. He gets the bad guys while you’re a publishing editor. Spencer knows Derek has sisters, but he hasn’t met all of them. Derek often talks about you by name, but he never thought that the girl from the club would be her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say the first thing that comes to mind.

Spencer nods as if he’s thinking. “Okay. Nice to meet you, too.”

“Okay, I’m going to get more boxes. I’ll give the tour when we’re done.”

“Okay,” you smile. As soon as Derek is gone, you glare at Spencer. He looks just as good as he did in the club, if not better. It pisses you off. “So…”

“Are we not going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“About how you ditched me.”

“You bailed on me!” you gasp.

“I did no such thing. I went to the bathroom like I said I was going to. The line was long because some guy was having sex in the stalls and locked the bathroom. I would have stepped out of line to tell you this but I really had to pee. When I came back, you and your friends were gone.”

“What?” Embarrassment heats your cheeks. God, how can you be so stupid? “Oh, I thought you… Okay. I thought you ditched me and I got pissed.”

“Sorry I gave you that impression.” Spencer looks down and finally notices the shirt you’re wearing. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

You look down and chuckle nervously. “Look at that. I am.” You look back into his eyes. “Do you want it back? I can give it back.”

Your eyes are wide and innocent, and Spencer has a hard time resisting going over to you and ripping it off you.

“Keep it,” he says after a moment. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

Spencer pushes away from the kitchen counter and walks toward you. You back up for every step he takes toward you until your legs hit the couch.

“We can’t do this,” you mumble.

“Why not?”

“Look, my brother and I have a rule where I don’t date his friends and he doesn’t date mine. We can’t do this.”

Spencer leans down and grips the back of the couch so you’re trapped.

“We can’t or we shouldn’t?” he whispers.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Okay.” He backs up a few feet. “I wanted to give you a goodnight kiss that night. I’m kind of pissed I didn’t get to.”

“Oh, okay.”

“What if I gave it to you now?” You snap your gaze to him. “One kiss and then we can pretend like that night never happened.”

You don’t have to say anything. He can see the desire in your eyes. He stalks back over to you, grabs your jaw, and kisses you. You sit on the back of the couch and wrap your legs around his waist, falling deeper into the kiss.

“Oh, come on,” Derek groans.

You and Spencer jump away from each other and see Derek standing by the front door with a box in hand.

“Sorry, Derek,” you mutter.

“No, wait a second,” Spencer jumps in. “Just because you think this is going to blow up in our faces doesn’t mean it will.” He looks at Derek. “I’m not sorry, Morgan. I’m not going to stop wanting to kiss her.”

Derek shakes his head and sets the box down. “You know what? You’re both adults. I just don’t need to see your naked ass walking through here. I’m getting more boxes. It’d be nice if you two helped.”

The second Derek is out of view, you pull Spencer back in for another kiss with the promise of something delicious later on.

x

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[gh0stsp1d3r]

Ok but hear me out bestie:

I think a fix with Luke and reader (established couple) and they have a pregnancy scare (totally false alarm) would be so funny

Their reactions and maybe some fluff in the end would be cute too

i love this sm omg 😭 😭 he’d be terrified

𝒫𝓇ℯ𝑔𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓎 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇ℯ

masterlist

You woke up in the middle of the night, suddenly feeling the urge to throw up. You were nauseous as you stood up, stumbling towards the bathroom.

You breathed heavily, a hand over your face, leaning against the wall. You put the back of your hand onto your forehead, furrowing your eyebrows. You didn’t feel hot.

You were confused, and that’s when the thought popped into your head. You were late, and you felt sick. No way. You originally thought, shaking it away.

Your heart and mind raced with the thought throughout the rest of the day, and it was when you were training with Luke when he noticed. You were off the whole day. He disarmed you, your sword falling to the ground. He smiled, getting ready to tease you when he saw your face.

"You good?" he asked you, smile faltering when he looked back up at you. His expression turned into one of concern as he stared at your features, trying to figure out what was wrong in his head.

"I... have something to tell you."

He furrowed an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side and looking at you in confusion.

"Y/n?"

"Sit down." You told him. Okay, now he was really concerned. He sat down with you on a nearby rock, holding your hand in his to bring comfort.

"Luke... I think I'm pregnant."

His mouth flew open, eyebrows creasing, trying to tell if you were joking or not.

"What? Are you serious?" he asked you with a nervous laugh, gripping your hand a bit tighter.

"I don't know, really, I have to take a test, but I needed you to know."

"What makes you think that your pregnant?"

"I woke up this morning feeling super sick, and I threw up... And I'm a week late!"

He swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding slowly to your words. "We should... take a test, right?"

"Yeah, but where the hell would I even get one? Not too sure that's something they keep in a camp."

"I know they have some in the big house. I can go sneak in and steal one or two." he shrugged.

You furrowed an eyebrow, wondering how he knew that, but ignored it for now. You just nodded, and he grabbed your sword, helping you off the rock. You both walked silently to your cabins.

"I'll get them tonight, and see you tomorrow morning." He told you, both of you standing in front of your cabin.

"Okay." you sighed out. He leaned in, putting his lips on yours. "See you tomorrow," You spoke when he pulled away. He nodded, waiting until you were inside to walk to the Hermes cabin.

He let out a sigh, running a hand over his face, glancing over at the big house and back at his cabin.

He knocked on the window next to your bed, you sat up quicker than the flash, opening it as quickly as you could.

"Jesus, did you even sleep?" he whispered to you, looking around your space. You shook your head. "I couldn't."

"Here." He handed you two boxes. "Thank you." You whispered, going into the bathroom while he sat on your bed, anxiously waiting for you, his leg bouncing up and down while he bit his nail.

It had felt like hours until you came out, holding both tests in front of you, both negative. He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in.

"Thank Gods." He muttered, sighing and getting into the bed next to you. You put your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his figure.

"I don't know, would kids be that bad?" you asked him, looking up at him.

"I mean, I'm not against us having kids in the future. Right now, In camp? Recipe for disaster."

You nodded in agreement, looking back ahead, and shutting your eyes.

"Believe me, soon as we're outta camp, I'll give you all the kids you want." He told you with a smile, kissing the crown of your head while you giggled.

[whitejays-galaxy]

Luke and Leia as cats

Bonus.... Kitten version!

Name Meanings:

Luke/Amberdawn/Amberstar:

I chose "Amber" because of his warm personality and pelt color.

And "Dawn" because he represents the new Dawnclan(Jedi) order; he rebuilds it and becomes the next grandmaster/leader

Leia/Birdslash:

"Bird" symbolizes her beauty and grace, and the "Slash" suffix shows her fierce side.

Okay but why does Luke remind me of a honey bun, and Leia a nicer Hawkfrost(with less fluff lmao)

They are so silly >:3

See more of my Cat Au designs here :3

The Disaster lineage (Yoda, Dooku, Qui, Obi, Anakin, Ahsoka + lore)

Prequel villains (Sidious, Dooku, Maul, Vader + Lore)

Kit-Fisto

Plo-Koon and Ahsoka

Sifo Dyas and Dooku

Disaster trio(Obi, Ani, Soka) doodles

Smol comics(ft. Qui, Rael, Sifo, Dooku): pt 1

Aayla Secura and Quinlan Voss

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY CAT DESIGNS

This is a PERSONAL AU and they mean so much to me