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tinyglitterrose · 1 year

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Omega? - Part 2

Part 2, Lashton, boyxboy, 18+

Omega Ashton, Alpha Luke

Warnings: SMUT, O/B/A, omega in heat

Summary: Luke finally gives in. And they talk cuz Ashton is scared and insecure about what he wants.

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He was going to do it himself.

He wiggled around a little and by the time Luke was emitting the bathroom, a clean towel in his hand, he was humping the bed, one hand gripping the sheets tightly, the other rhythmically pushing two of his fingers in and out of his slick drenched hole.

It felt a lot less weird than he had thought, honestly, all he could feel was ecstasy. Who cared if this was his asshole that he was currently shoving his fingers into.

“Holy-“, Luke gasped and the green towel slipped out of his hands, “Ash, what – what the fuck, oh my – holy shit”

Every atom of Luke’s body yearned to join the boy on the bed.

He managed to keep himself from acting on this urge just like the past two days but he was not strong enough to not walk closer to the bed.

Swear words kept leaving the overwhelmed alpha’s mouth and every one of them seemed to spur Ashton on.

“Watch, w- watch me, alpha”, he gasped, ass pushing back onto his fingers, riding them, thighs still spread wide and giving Luke a show that made him have to clench his fist around his balls to keep from cumming in his pants like a hormonal teenager.

“Ash, you can’t-“

“I, I have to – h-help me if you, you – ah”, he couldn’t finish his sentence, had forgotten what he had wanted to say before he got there.

Luke was breaking into a sweat. This was the hottest thing he had ever seen and his alpha nature was scratching at his skin from the inside, begging to make Luke act on what he wanted. He wanted to touch Ashton, he shouldn’t have to make himself cum, Luke wanted to take care of him, help him through his heat, make him cum until he lost his voice and wouldn’t even be able to walk to the bathroom by himself.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, Ashton wasn’t in his right mind.

So Luke stumbled backwards, locking himself in the bathroom where he crouched down next to the toilet, covering his ears to try his best to drown out his best friend’s desperate whines and moans and the calls for him.

He must have fallen asleep after a few hours of sitting in the cramped up space. He hadn’t moved an inch because he was scared if he did he might loose control and get on the bed in the other room to help a desperate omega through his heat.

His limbs hurt and cracked when he got up now.

There was silence. So Ashton was asleep, too, or gone.

He was neither of those things.

But Luke only noticed that when he was already standing next to the bed, unsure of whether he should sleep in this room or not.

Ashton shuffled and every urge to leave left the tall blonde when he saw the dried tears on his cheeks reflecting the city lights from outside the window. He had never seen Ashton look so…sad. That was an understatement but Luke couldn’t find a word to describe the look on his face.

“You left me”, his voice broke even though he was only whispering, “You left me all alone”

“I know, I’m sorry, but I have to leave”, Luke wanted to cry.

Ashton’s lips trembled, the only warning sign before he started quietly sobbing. He was still looking at Luke through his tear blurred vision, looking so small where he was curled up under the sheets on the bed.

“Ash-“

“No”, a louder sob and Ashton harshly rubbed his eyes, “just g-go then”

This had been what Luke had wanted for the last hours, but now he couldn’t. There was more to what Ashton was saying, something more, and Luke needed to find out what it was and make it go away.

“Ash, I’m not-“

“Go!”

Luke shook his head and kneeled next to the bed so he could look the other boy in the eyes without feeling like he was towering over him.

His thumb softly swiped over Ashton’s cheek. “I’m not leaving you”

“D-don’t”, Ashton’s face scrunched up into a painful expression when he moved away from Luke’s hand, “don’t act like you care”

Luke went to argue but it all spilled out of Ashton then like he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“Like it wasn’t not enough that – t-that you all thought ‘oh, must be a girl cuz we know how omegas smell’ and you didn’t even notice I was trying to be a g-good… better omega, I – I tried! I cleaned stuff and I gave you all more time to speak in interviews because it’s not my place to talk with three alphas and I tried to be worthy of being in the band but, but…you – I’m in heat and you could hold yourself back”, he sobbed loudly, “An omega’s heat should make an alpha want to help them, it should make – you should have wanted me, but you don’t and if an alpha in the same room with me, the – the whole night, and you didn’t – I can’t even be a good …fuck for you, I’m not desirable!”

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t do anything”, Luke kept his voice quiet, Ashton just blinking at him after his outburst, “You’re not, Ash, I would never see you as something stupid like a ‘good fuck’”

“But I should be”

“No, you should be a person!”

Ashton’s lips started to tremble again and Luke quickly rambled on. “No, no, Ash. I don’t mean – I mean you’re so much more than an omega. It doesn’t matter that you are, you’re still the same guy from our first band practice with the awful purple shirt and the push bike. You’re still the same person, Ash, you’re not worth anything less or need to give us your speaking time in interviews or clean our shit or anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing has changed and I’m not a brainless animal that’s gonna rape their best friend just because he’s in heat!”

“Luke”, Ashton’s eyes were big, “it’s not rape, what are you saying?”

“I would feel like it is”

“But I want it!”

“What you want is an alpha. Your omega wants a knot and it’s all you can focus on but that’s not what you want”

He knew he had said something wrong when Ashton gave him a bitter look and turned his back to him, pulling the duvet over his head.

“Ash-“

“I don’t want just any knot!”

Luke was gonna mumble another ‘Ash’ but he didn’t get the chance.

“I want yours, don’t you get it?”, his voice was trembling, even a bit shrill, “I want you, I want you, please! Luke, if you don’t think I’m unworthy, please, I need it, please, please”

“Please don’t beg me”, Luke took a deep shaky breath. He could smell it again. Well, he could smell it the whole time but now it was getting more again, he just knew that there was new slick pushing out of the other boy and pooling between his legs, smearing on his thighs…

“Please”, Ashton whispered again, turning back to Luke in his blanket cocoon, “please, alpha, plea-“

“Don’t call me that, I don’t want to be that”

“Lu”, the drummer drew out the ‘u’ in the nickname, making it sound so much more longing.

“I-“

“Please”, he was slowly peeling himself out of the blanket and Luke was unable to move a muscle to stop him, “I promise it’s me talking, not my omega, I promise. I’m so – so clear, I know what I want, I want it, please”

“W-what do you want?”

For a second, Ashton choked on his own breath in relief of the other man finally giving in. He was giving him a chance, he wasn’t running away again and Ashton would do everything he could to keep it that way.

He pulled off the blanket, kicking it to the other end of the bed.

“Want your knot, Luke”, he whispered, taking in the way Luke’s eyelids fluttered when the drummer arched himself towards him, showing off his body in the lights from the busy city outside.

He watched Luke’s adams apple bob repeatedly, how his teeth bit down into his lower lip and his fingers twitched.

“I’m all wet for you”, Ashton was surprised himself at how seductively he whispered it, “I’m ready for you, I’m all open, just for you, Luke. ‘S just for your knot, all for you”

“I-It’s not-“ Luke was going to repeat his whole it’s your nature speech, but Ashton beat him to it.

“But it’s not. I want you so bad, Luke. Been fantasizing about you and me since I realized I was going to have a heat soon”

“Y-yea?”, Luke gulped. He was walking right into the drummer’s trap and he knew it.

“Mmh. I told you, I just want you”

“But isn’t it gonna change us? Our friendship, the band –“

“Please, Luke”, he pushed just his middle more towards Luke, “Can we talk about this after? I just need you so bad, Lu… it hurts”

Damn Ashton and his teary puppy eyes and the comment about how it hurt.

Luke couldn’t have Ashton hurting.

His breath trembled before he nodded just as shakily and climbed on the bed.

Ashton was so relieved that he let out a sob as he turned on his back to have Luke be on top of him.

Luke’s arms were bracketing his head and he let him stare at him for a few minutes.

Luke was trying to think about this, if he was really going to do this but Ashton was looking up at him with such big hopeful eyes and he needed that slight fear in them that he could change his mind any second to go away.

So he lowered himself further, lips slowly grazing over Ashton’s before he connected them properly and his mind stopped working.

All his doubts were gone and there was only one word: Ashton.

His scent was so much more prominent being this close to him, he was not capable of stopping his own lips from slowly traveling down Ashton’s jaw and to his neck where he pushed his nose to the sweaty skin, breathing him in like he hadn’t breathed any fresh air in years.

Ashton was silently crying, tears streaming down his cheeks again, he was overwhelmed with finally getting what he needed.

Luke was sucking and licking on the soft sweaty skin, so lost in the smell and the feeling that he didn’t notice Ashton’s whispered and gasped pleas at first.

“Need, I need –“, his big hands were clumsily grasping at Luke’s pants, pulling at them like he had forgotten how to take someone’s pants off.

Luke pulled his face from the other boy’s neck but ignored the prying hands. Instead, he lifted the material of Ashton’s damp shirt and pushed it up all the way to his armpits where he let it get stuck to Ashton’s sweaty skin again.

“God, you’re so beautiful”, the blonde mumbled and leaned down to spread kisses all over his wide chest. Ashton released a sob at the compliment, hands rushing to tangle themselves into Luke’s hair.

Luke's face was rubbing over his damp chest hair, fingers stroking down the middle of his chest, scratching the curly hair.

His back arched, when Luke’s lips wrapped around one of his sensitive nipples, tongue lapping out to lick over it, hands now sliding down his sides to feel his bare hips.

“So gorgeous”, Luke mumbled around the skin between his lips, before he let them trail down Ashton’s torso all the way to his crotch where his dick was hard and dark pink and leaking.

Ashton’s hips twitched upwards when he felt the blonde breathe onto the tip.

“Please. Luke-”

Luke placed one single kiss to the swollen tip to which the drummer gasped, then he scooted further down the bed. Both his hands slid down Ashton’s thighs, hooking under his knees and he could feel them shake in his hands when he lifted them to help Ashton plant his feet onto the bed. He was chanting quiet ‘yes, yes, yes’sses, so eager to have Luke touch him where he needed him so badly.

His knees were spread wide open and a tiny part of him felt exposed, too exposed, but he couldn't bring himself to care about it. All he wanted was Luke. His knot, his cum, anything.

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comment, like and reblog 🥰🥰 and part three coming soon xx

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targs-on-zorses · 10 months

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HOTD Gifs: Season 1

E1 - Daemon Targaryen (b/w) E1 - Daemon: You're a pack of hounds E1 - Daemon Targaryen E1 - Daemon Targaryen E1 - Daemon Targaryen: [...] my impunity E1 - Daemon Targaryen E1 - Daemon & Viserys I: The Heir for a day E1 - Daemon & Caraxes E1 - Rhaenyra Targaryen

E2 - Rhaenyra & Alicent E2 - Otto Hightower E2 - Daemon & Otto: Sheathe the fucking steel. E2 - Daemon Targaryen

E3 - Daemon Targaryen || E3 - Rhaenyra Targaryen E3 - Daemon Targaryen

E4 - Rhaenyra Targaryen E4 - Alicent Hightower E4 - Daemon Targaryen E4 - Otto Hightower E4 - Daemon Targaryen E4 - Otto Hightower E4 - Rhaenyra Targaryen E4 - Otto Hightower

E5 - Rhaenyra Targaryen E5 - Daemon Targaryen E5 - Alicent Hightower

E6 - Daemon Targaryen E6 - Alicent Hightower E6 - Harwin Strong

E7 - Alicent Hightower E7 - Aemond Targaryen E7 - Alicent Hightower E7 - Aemond Targaryen: It was a fair exchange

E8 - Alicent & Aegon: You are no son of mine. E8 - Criston & Aemond + sparring E8 - Criston & Aemond: I don't give a shit about tourneys. E8 - Aemond: Have you come to train? E8 - Aemond, Jace & Luke: Nephews, have you come to train? E8 - Aegon II Targaryen E8 - Green and Black E8 - Daemon Targaryen: He can keep his tongue E8 - Aemond Targaryen b&w E8 - Viserys Targaryen E8 - Aemond Targaryen E8 - Aemond Targaryen: Final tribute. E8 - Aemond & Jace: Do you not think yourself Strong? E8 - Aemond & Alicent: Expressing how proud I am of my family E8 - Aemond & Daemon (+Otto)

E9 - Alicent Hightower E9 - Otto Hightower E9 - Aemond Targaryen + sitting E9 - Aemond & Alicent: Cole needs me, mother. E9 - Aemond Targaryen + hood E9 - Aemond Targaryen +swooshy E9 - Aegon & Aemond: They're going to make you king. E9 - Aegon & Aemond: Not taste for duty! E9 - Aemond Targaryen E9 - Aemond Targaryen + sitting, b&w E9 - Aegon & Alicent: Because he didn't like me. E9 - Aegon E9 - Alicent Hightower E9 - Aegon II Targaryen E9 - Otto Hightower E9 - Aemond Targaryen

E10 - Daemon & Rhaenyra: My Queen E10 - Daemon Targaryen E10 - Daemon Targaryen E10 - Aemond Targaryen E10 - Luke & Aemond: A fight would be little challange. E10 - Aemond Targaryen: I want you to put out your eye. E10 - Aemond Targaryen: Give me your eye! E10 - Aemond Targaryen + laughing E10 - Aemond & Lucerys: You owe a debt, boy! E10 - Aemond Targaryen

#masterlist

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timetravelingpenguin1066 · 1 year

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HOTD Gifs - Season 1

E1 - Daemon Targaryen E1 - Daemon & Viserys I: The Heir for a day

E7 - Aemond Targaryen E7 - Aemond Targaryen: It was a fair exchange

E8 - Criston & Aemond + sparring E8 - Criston & Aemond: I don't give a shit about tourneys. E8 - Aemond, Jace & Luke: Nephews, have you come to train? E8 - Aegon II Targaryen E8 - Green and Black E8 - Daemon Targaryen: He can keep his tongue E8 - Aemond Targaryen b&w E8 - Viserys Targaryen E8 - Aemond Targaryen E8 - Aemond Targaryen: Final tribute. E8 - Aemond & Jace: Do you not think yourself Strong? E8 - Aemond & Alicent: Expressing how proud I am of my family

E9 - Aemond Targaryen + sitting E9 - Aemond & Alicent: Cole needs me, mother. E9 - Aemond Targaryen + hood E9 - Aegon & Aemond: They're going to make you king. E9 - Aegon & Aemond: Not taste for duty! E9 - Aemond Targaryen E9 - Aemond Targaryen + sitting, b&w E9 - Aegon & Alicent: Because he didn't like me. E9 - Aemond Targaryen

E10 - Aemond Targaryen E10 - Luke & Aemond: A fight would be little challange. E10 - Aemond Targaryen: I want you to put out your eye. E10 - Aemond Targaryen: Give me your eye! E10 - Aemond Targaryen + laughing E10 - Aemond & Lucerys: You owe a debt, boy! E10 - Aemond Targaryen

#masterlist

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antipolin · 10 days

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I appreciate the work you’re doing on your blog. I had no idea about promo using shipping costars or that polins were harassing Luke’s gf because of it. That speaks so poorly of everyone involved. And the way the s3 leads are being treated so much better than previous leads feels extra gross because they and their fans are being rewarded for this deranged behavior!

Thanks anon! I appreciate the shout out!

Yeah.... Shonda did this for QC promotion too. A lot of people/fans convinced themselves that India & Corey were dating or into each other b/c of the PR tour (I didn't watch the show so IDK much about the press tour really, just what others told me.) and then got mad when it ended and how at one Tudum event they got upset b/c I guess they weren't like touching all the time or something.

These people are actors guys. It's their job to sell you a show and promote it however they need to. They will pretend to get along, even if they hate each other. (I'm not saying any of the Bridgerton actors hate each other for the record, I'm just saying in general.) And with a romance show/movie, they'll act especially all chummy to get eyeballs on their show or butts in the theater.

But Nicola is taking this to a whole other level and needs to fucking check her ego because the level of unprofessionalism with her is insane. B/w the saving/favoriting tik toks, the making jokes (or not IDK) about 'not hearing' the director calling cut during intimate scenes and apparently 'kept going' after that.... Lounging around naked between takes, etc.

Keep that shit to yourself and promote your damn show like an adult. No one wants to hear about how you seem to want to secretly fuck your mediocre looking costar by getting to paw at/fuck him all the time.

But in regards to Polin's harassing LN's gf.... IDK if they're currently doing that with his current one. (I don't know her full name even I think I know her first name but that's it) But they definitely did with his ex gf. They were constantly harassing her and telling her she wasn't a 'real' woman or some bullshit b/c of her endometriosis. (that she was very public with sharing) That LN should be with a 'real' woman and should be dating Nicola, not him. They did all this on an Instagram live I believe when she was attempting to promote a play at the time.

It upset her so much, she had to go private for awhile. And LN barely did anything to stand up for her. Nicola chose to make a strange post of her dressed like a crab and say 'I don't need defending' as if she had been the one to get bullied and harassed and if LN were her man and not Jade.

#anon #asks #anti Nicola Coughlan

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bryht · 4 years

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if ppl could stop apparently saying cha.rlie & ow.en are dating, that’d be great

#every person who has said this owes me money #stop !! just STOP !!#a) boys can be friends w/o them dating. i KNOW. what a WILD CONCEPT #b) if they aren't dating and y'all keep saying this shit it's gonna make their friendship weird #( look at louis & harry ; jack & finn ........ Y'ALL )#c) JUST BC ! they BOTH SAID ! LUKE AND ALEX DATED !#does NOT MEAN ! theyre dating !#nor do they exist solely to fulfil ur jatp fantasies #im literally genuinely upset abt this #bc ive seen it cross the line from 'haha that's cute' to FULL ON FETISHISATION in a heartbeat #WAY TOO MANY TIMES #and im TIRED #im also a grandma so i have perspective on things i guess #but like . y'all just stop #you did the same w lee & richard too ????? before lee even came out ????#fucking chill jesus #this is how ppl feel when ppl say '''girls and boys can't just be friends''' !#normalise boys being close! normalise them being touchy feely !!! normalise HEALTHY FRIENDSHIPS #and also on the offchance they DO turn out to be dating #this all still stands #stop fetishising mlm relationships damn #psa.#ᴠɪɪ. — ♪ ৲ ﹙ move your feet & scream the new sound › ooc ﹚

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a-very-bizarre-adventure · 2 years

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Hi! How are you?

I was thinking about what exactly should I ask you and then it hit me!

The Obey me! Brothers and Side Characters meeting Mc's older sibling (you can keep it gn if you want), Y/N, for the first time.

Just imagine:

Y/N, unlike MC, knew a bit about their supernatural bloodline and tried to learn more about magic and the other realms even managing, during Mc's absence, to work with an angel (maybe Gabriel or even Michael himself) .

One day they ask Gabriel/Michael if he knew where their younger sibling was because it had been more than a year since they last heard from them and when the angel told them, Y/N asked immediately to teach them a spell to reach MC, ya know, to see if everything was okay and if those demons were treating them like they should.

That same day they teleported themselves in the Devildom. Right on the student council's room's table during a meeting with the exchange students and the bros. They looked like they wanted to commit a coup but when they made eye contact with MC, Y/N jumped into their arms, making both of them fall on their asses. MC would have a lot of explanations to give...as well as Y/N

(MC: "Bruh WHERE THE HELL DID YOU COME FROM?! AND HOW?!?!"

Y/N: "Lmao I asked my good dude Gabe/Mike to give me a way to reach you and ya know archangels do know their shit and-"

MC: "Wait... ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THE ARCHANGEL GABRIEL/MICHAEL?! YOU MANAGED TO REACH AN ARCHANGEL JUST TO COME AND SEE ME?!"

Y/N: ". . . yeah? Why are you so surprised? I'd literally drop kick God AND the Demon King's asses to protect you, MC. I mean, I'm your big sibling, that's literally my job since you were born.")

Honestly I think Y/N would probably adopt Luke after two seconds like:

Luke: Hi, I'm Luke I-

Y/N: Oh, Hi! I know who you are! The archangel talked a lot about you!

Luke: R-really?!

Y/N: Yes little one! I heard MC is like your older sibling or something?

Luke, blushing: W-well I really appreciate their company b-but...!

Y/N, patting his shoulder: Well, welcome to the family Luke! Mc's younger brothers are also my younger brothers, so if you need anything don't be afraid to ask me!

Also, I think Y/N would become the love interest of the now dateables (except Luke ofc), the demon bros have MC and Diavolo, Barbie, Solo and Simeon have Y/N.

Furthermore if Y/N finds out about how their little sibling was treated before the pacts and 'lesson 16' . . . well I hope that Beelzebub can hide Belphie faster than he can eat and that Lucifer can apologise harder than he can punish Mammon

And speaking of Mammon! Y/N would probably love him (platonically)

Y/N: You where the first one to approach my sibling in a friendly way? Who was in charge of protecting them and who never left their side? You were their first pact, is that correct?

Mammon, intimidated: y-yes! I'm their first!

His brothers: for the love of Diavolo, stop saying that!

Y/N, not minding them: Good. Thank you, Lord Mammon.

Mammon: W-what? I- I mean of course you would thank the Great MAMMON!!!

Y/N, smiling: yeah, you really are Great. I'm glad you are their first.

Mammon, tearing up: MC, can I adopt your older sibling-

Sorry if I wrote too much! If I did something wrong or if for any reason you don't feel like doing this, feel free to ignore it! I hope you have a wonderful day!

-💀

HAHAHA YES I LOVE THIS

IM SORRY BUT I KEEP IMAGINING Y/N SAYING THE DROP KICKING PART IN FRONT OF DIAVOLO AND HIM JUST BEING LIKE "......👀”

Okay so I did this as more as just as just some random blurbs if thats okay

I feel like at first Barbatos will have beef with Y/N because of the drop kicking comment and sees them as like a threat

But Diavolo becomes INVESTED in Y/N because they’re so bold and works with the archangels

No one has ever dared to say something like that before and yet you did

He’s like, hmmmm. I like them teehee

meanwhile Lucifer is like, “You have GOT to be kidding me, MC.”

Luke absolutely loves Y/N and sees her as a big sister

definitely does sibling shenanigans

Mammon also loves Y/N because she doesn’t talk down to him

Y/N and Mammon become big buddies because they’re thankful that they’ve never tried to kill M/C unlike some demons

I feel like Y/N, Beel, and Asmo would also all get along really nicely

Y/N for sure gives major attitude to Lucifer. Purposely tries to make his life harder. Lucifer will have to be like, “M/C can you please do something.”

Belphie has to actively stay away from Y/N because even if M/C has forgiven him, Y/N has not

I feel like Y/N would prefer for M/C to hang around with the other exchange students but won’t fight them when they choose to stick around the demon bros

Now on to the romance aspect, I feel like Simeon is definitely up there on the charts since Y/N studied under the high ranking angels

Solomon would also be putting on the moves because he likes how chaotic they are. Also to have studied under the archangels would most likely mean that y/n is probably pretty powerful which intrigues him

Diavolo is absolutely fascinated by y/n. They’re so bold and blunt. He loves it

He wants to know everything about them

Barbs takes some time warming up to them. He doesn’t trust them. I mean they did say they would fight god and the demon king soooo

But he eventually warms up after he sees that y/n just wants to protect m/c

#obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me asks #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me mammon #obey me beel #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #obey me x reader

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mammonsvulva · 3 years

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Hi there! I just discovered your page and i loved the bachata headcannon!

On that same line, can you do a female latina headcannon? Like, more specifically, Colombian, you know, an MC that's like normally fluent in english but when mad she just burst on angry spanish screaming session with latin curses and a strong accent and also just getting really mad if deemed as Mexican by default? I'd love that! Thank youuuu (also feel free to ignored this if it's not of your fancy)

I hope you have a great day!

Of course! I really hope you like it! :)

(I tried to incorporate things some of my relatives say as Colombians please don’t hate me🥲)

The Brothers + Datables and a Latina MC with Colombian Habits

Lucifer❤️

Lucifer has always been amused by the boldness MC portrayed, that is until Mammon pissed her off

MC actually f*cking explodes, calling Mammon “culicagao” (like a bratty kid) and a bunch of profanities out of rage

Actually leaves Lucifer surprised, who could she hate so much that she’d put a curse on them?

Is actually kind of scared to speak up after she went silent, kinda just stares at her like “what the fuck do I do”

“I’ve told Mammon A THOUSAND TIMES. IM NOT F*CKING MEXICAN”

(Oooohh Mammons gonna get his ASS WHOOPED)

“MAAAAAAMMMMOOOOONNN????”

Mammon💛

Could learn a thing or two from MC, had some strong clap backs

Is counting his money when OUT OF NOWHERE MC just starts incanting a literal curse

Literally has his quaking in his boots dude, like he’s genuinely terrified

He can’t keep up with anything she’s saying and feels like his time to die has come

Doesn’t say A WORD when she calms down, jumps when she starts apologizing for reacting like that

“W-w-what happened? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )”

“I LOST 10 GRAND IN BLACK JACK! ITS FUCKING RIGGED!”

Is genuinely more cautious for a while, kind of traumatized him

Mammon thought it’d be a great Idea to take her to meet one of his witches, MC already didn’t like her but listen to this

First thing the witch said was “Aren’t you that Mexican transfer student or whatever?”

(‘Oooh Ms. Girl you fucked up’)

Leviathan💙

Wishes he could have MCs confidence, ‘how does she respond like that 0•0’

He’s reading Manga while MC just lost on the same level for the 5th time

Accidentally shifts to his demon for he got so scared

Has to whip his tail up and grab the controller before she could slam it, genuinely terrified for his well being

Once she calms down she goes to give him a hug, to help with her frustration

*PANICS* “I-I can h-help you with that level, if y-you want..”

MC watches as he beats it with ease and heaves a sigh of relief, literally such a stupid game

Gets just as offended as MC when somebody said “I went to Mexico on vacation once, what was it like growing up there?”

Will let her handle it and he’ll be her Moral Support <3

Satan💚

Loved that MC was always ready, he was like that too being the Avatar of Wrath

Is genuinely amused when MC burst out swearing because she got a bad grade, he actually thought it was hilarious

Thinks of like a game to keep up with everything she’s shouting, makes her more upset

“What the fuck are you laughing at juemadre de la-“

“You’re Hot when you’re mad, Did you know that?”

Makes her go silent immediately, why is he like this, making people wanna act up on DIAVOLO

When they’re BOTH mad at something it’s like a f*cking BOMB RAID bro

They both just keep adding more, even when Satans speaking a Demon Dialect and MC is speaking Spanish LMAOO

When an arrogant soul decides to purposely mislabel MC as Mexican, the fool needs to count his seconds with MC and Satan both getting on his ass

Asmodeus💞

Has always liked the spunk MC had, it entertained him to watch her bicker with his brothers

Surprised, but not happy AT ALL with the fact that MC could blow up like that

Gets on MC for lashing out, “MC! THIS IS TERRIBLE FOR YOUR SKIN, DO YOU WANT WRINKLES?”

Gets MC to tell him what made her loose her cool like that

“That stupid b*tch from class posted saying “That Mexican transfer student isn’t pretty enough to be this annoying”

Almost explodes as bad as MC did

“MS. GIRL SHE SAID WHAT? Lemme hop on Devilgram and end her career real quick💖”

Devilgram post- Asmodeus 19:34: “Aw sweetie, Not everybody can be as gorgeous as MC and muah, but don’t go trying to drag her in the dirt with you. Filthy🥱”

No mercy on the haters💔

Beelzebub🧡

Like Asmo, found it entertaining to see MC bicker with his brothers every now and then

MC just couldn’t keep calm anymore when she messed up the recipe she was working on AGAIN

Beel becomes more concerned than scared, ‘Is she ok? :(‘

Gets up to hug MC, hoping it’ll help calm her down a bit

She explains that she kept ruining the dessert no matter how hard she tried

“MC, it’s ok to do it wrong, because it helps you learn how to do it right :)”

She’s tried again, except this time with Beel to help her :)

Gets upset when someone defaults MC as Mexican, knowing how much she hates it

He may be a teddy bear but man don’t f*ck with his Chef

Belphegor💜

Thought MC was amusing with the way she made sure everyone knew she wouldn’t take any BS

MC just happened to stub her toe while Belphie was sleeping, and now he’s awake, and heated

“What the f*ck happened?”

Is actually more concerned than upset, she wouldn’t lash out like that for no reason

When MC explains that a picture of her in the RAD Catalog still ended up being there even though she made it clear she was against it

“Oh, MC- you look good in every photo, I wouldn’t be upset about it”

Assures her it’s not a big deal and then invites her to come take a nap with him

Will mean mug the f*ck out of anyone who assumes MC is Mexican, because he finds extremely disrespectful (as it is)

Might commit homicide if they keep saying Mexican but I ain’t no snitch

Diavolo♥️

At first took MC as disrespectful, but learned it was only when she felt she was being disrespected (then by all means, go off)

Surprisingly, Diavolo speaks Spanish, but he still kind of struggles to keep up

He’s just laughing the whole time too, like MC isn’t furious

Later, MC calmly explains just some random student pissed her off again

“Who is this student you say? Do I need to have a chat with them as the Demon Lord of The Devildom? :)?”

Dia actually admires how passionate MC is about her home country, agrees that it’s disrespectful to mislabel someone

Because he can, Dia starts to learn about Colombian culture and throwing parties just for MC

Starts saying shit like “politas pa la rumba!” (I’ll buy beers for everyone¿) just to sound cool to MC

Barbatos💟

Barb doesn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful but so hostile sometimes, overall doesn’t really mind though

Is surprised that such things could conde from MC, kind of chuckles thinking about it

He figured he should try and step in to calm the situation

“Is there anything I can do to ease you, MC?”

It ended up being that Diavolo was completely ignoring her and brushing her aside when he never did that with Solomon

Asks if she’d like him to talk to Dia about it, since he may approach it better than she will

Barb will quietly correct anybody who believes her to be Mexican, just so MC won’t have to deal with their arrogance herself

Takes his free time and makes dishes from Colombia, or Colombian themed cookies or cupcakes to make MC happy :)

Simeon🤍

Is trying to teach MC better ways to respond to idiots, more Angelic ways

When MC blows up for the first time in front of him, the literal shock she sent him into omfg

*GASP* “MC?! WHY ARE YOU SAYING SUCH VILE THINGS?”

Like, HELLOOO? SHE DARES TO SAY SUCH THINGS IN AN ANGELS PRESENCE?

Helps to calm her down after showing distaste for her words

“You’re lips are to beautiful to speak such sinful things”

Will go on to give MC a long but kind lecture about why exploding like that is bad for her Aura and whatever

Will politely make it known that someone was wrong for assuming MC is Mexican, does get a bit irritated though

He now goes up to MC when she’s getting upset, to remind her to breathe and comfort her with a deep hug :)

“See? It’s ok MC~ just breathe in and out for me, ok? :)”

Solomon⚛️

Will piss MC off on purpose just to see her pop off, he LOVES it

Literally her #1 cheerleader when she blows up, adding on to what she’s upset about

“Period MC” “No way she said that! What a fugly b*tch” “Right, she’s just a hater”

Hypes her up all the time, even when she’s obviously in the wrong

Sol needs ALL the tea, pulls up like “who we talking shit about?”

Will get on someone’s ass just because, now think about when someone mislabels MC😳💥

Gives MC a sense of pride hearing him say “Cagué” when he messes up a potion, he obviously picked that up from her

Luke⛅️

Gets kinda (really) scared when MC becomes a little aggressive

Actually bursts out crying because he was scared MC was mas at him

MC traumatized this kid so bad, he ran to Simeon like he was getting chased be some demons

“M-m-mom is really m-mad and *sobs* I’m s-scared *sobs more*”

MC IMMEDIATELY feels super bad because she scared away his soul

Simeon, having talked to her about it already, mouthed “Apologize now.” In a very not polite manner, kinda scaring MC too🚫🧢

Has MC apologizing PROFUSELY, trying to explain it wasn’t Luke’s fault

Once he calms down, they go to bake cookies like usual, except this time he’s sniffing the whole time :( 💔

I really hope this fit what you asked for :( </3

132 notes · View notes

amiedala · 3 years

Text

SOMETHING MORE (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 24: There's the Kicker

RATING: Explicit (18+ ONLY!!!)

WARNINGS: this chapter doesn't warrant warnings except brief mentions of violence!

SUMMARY: When you hear your name, you think you’re hallucinating it. It comes out of nowhere, and the voice that it comes from is familiar, trusting, warm. And there’s the kicker: it’s unmodulated. You’re pretty sure you’re imagining it, because you’ve spent so many nights playing over Din’s voice in your mind, his promises, the way he broke them.

And still, you freeze, turning around, feeling completely suspended on the space-time continuum. Standing there, unmasked, heartbreak written all over his face, is your Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian. As your heart hammers, drowning out every impulse to run towards him and jump into his arms, you have to remind yourself he left you, and even though he found you, he’s not yours anymore.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HELLO MY LOVES SO SORRY THIS IS DAY LATE!! i had a lot of family and personal stuff come up on the back half of the week, and the chapter just wasn't where i wanted it to be last night. i hope this makes up for it! and i promise, the next chapter is going to be muchhhhh longer, and (in my opinion) very good ;) ENJOY!!

Getting back to Hoth feels like trying to run up a staircase that doesn’t fully exist.

Your starfighter, the one you put together with your aching hands and a little bit of wishful thinking, is rebelling against you. It’s fitting, you think, trying to hit warp for the thousandth time, that in the Crest’s unceremonious, splintered death, it left behind a new ship for you can wrangle in its wake. Immediately, you feel awful, swearing and kicking the parts of your hand-me-down Rebel ship into shape, reminding yourself that your home—the physical part of it, at least—is gone, and it makes you want to break down in the middle of space, get lost in the stars and not think about anything in this forsaken galaxy ever again.

But every time you close your eyes, you see the lightsaber glow green, and you know somewhere deep in your chest that Wedge called you back for a reason. It’s colossal and monumental in the same thundering way finding Din and the baby for the first time was, as illuminated and fated as meeting Ahsoka. There’s something here, something real, something more, if General Luke Skywalker himself sent Wedge a hologram and shook your old friend up this badly.

Finally, you get the ship to move. You kick the malfunctioning warp system a few times before she shudders to life and groans under your pressure. “Kicker,” you mutter, flipping all the colorful, variant buttons on the dashboard to get her to move. “Kicker, that’s what I’m gonna call you. I’d name you Rebel,” you continue, punching the ship into hyperspace, “but that one might be a little too on the nose. What do you think?”

Because it’s a ship, Kicker doesn’t say anything. You smile though, a small, stolen one, and as you exit the crush of warp in front of the icy behemoth that is Hoth, you feel your heart aerating and releasing, nervousness building a colony of butterflies up in your stomach. Luke Skywalker, you whisper a few times, turning his name over in your mouth. You know he’s real. You’ve seen him before, only from a distance, but you’ve heard the concrete stories, the way he turned from desert farm boy into the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. He’s the kind of man that can turn into myth with the right storyteller, and he’s always awed you. There’s a part of you that connects to him—something yearning and desperate, that part of the tales you always heard where he keeps trying to save people beyond saving.

Wedge knows him. Knew him, maybe, with the mystique surrounding the Jedi that Luke became, but you’ve seen the way Wedge talks about him, how the double suns of Tatooine shine in his eyes, his enthusiasm, his kindness. And you know they haven’t seen each other in ages, because Wedge has been from one end of the galaxy to the next, and Luke—you aren’t on a first name basis, he’ll always be General Skywalker, but there’s something about the way he appeared in your vision that makes you feel closer to him—well, Luke’s been becoming a Jedi.

And after perceiving said Jedi on the seeing stone immediately after your premonitions of Grogu getting whisked away by something evil? It feels like too close of a coincidence. And you don’t believe in coincidences to begin with.

The descent to Hoth feels even colder and slower when you’re shivering in anticipation before you even break through the planet’s atmosphere. You’re in your jumpsuit, and one of the spare blankets from your makeshift bed in the back of the cockpit is draped over your legs, but you’re still freezing. It feels like forever until you’re finally docked and you can sprint towards the control room where Wedge told you he would be, boots stomping heavy and intentional against the frozen ground.

“W—” you wheeze, immediately skidding to a halt the second that you breach the doorframe, all the breath leaving your lungs, “what did he say?”

The room, you realize, a second too late, is full. There’s seven people splayed around the hologram, and they’re all staring at you. You recognize all of their faces, both from seeing them around here on base, and from your youth when you were still a fully integrated member of the Alliance, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you pull your helmet off, trying to walk over to where Wedge is standing with as much grace as you can muster.

“It seems like some of the message is corrupted,” Wedge manages, lowly, pulling you gently out of the way of the other people talking urgently over the holotable. “He said something about a new Jedi, though, and that he’s heading back to find them—”

“Me?” you blurt.

Wedge startles. “What?”

You bite your lip, grabbing his arm and dragging him a bit further away, hoping to avoid the other generals’ earshot. “I—I was on Tython,” you breathed, “just now. And before my fiancé and our kid abandoned—left me on Dantooine, we were on Corvus. Where we met with a Jedi—I think. I don’t know if she identifies as one anymore. Her lightsabers were white.”

Wedge blinks at you. “What?” he repeats, and you steal a nervous look at the others gathered around the hologram. Some of them are examining the table itself, others are watching you, and you feel both incredibly small and incredibly judged. “You’re not making sense, rebel girl. What about you?”

You inhale. It’s shaky, but it’s a start. You’re still out of breath. “I—I’m Force sensitive,” you whisper, as quietly as you can, “that’s why I was left on Dantooine. The baby—Grogu, our son—he’s also Force sensitive, and Moff Gideon was after the both of us. It was safer if we split up. Can,” you interrupt yourself, still out of breath, “can you play me the message? I think that Luke—General Skywalker—might have been talking about me.”

Wedge stares at you. After a second, he takes a half step back, but the look on his face, disbelief, is so close to Din’s of confusion and betrayal after you showed him the same piece of information about yourself. You swallow, suddenly self-conscious, pulling your braid over your shoulder.

“How long have you known?” Wedge whispers, voice urgent. “About your abilities?”

You shake your head. “Not long,” you promise, “two months at most. Listen—”

“Why did you say yes to me?” Wedge interrupts. “Why did you come here? We’re barely anything, right now, Nova, the Alliance is completely scattered after the fall of the Empire. There’s not enough of us to protect you.”

You blink, anger slowly filling up the expression on your face. “I can protect myself,” you hiss back, “and, besides, I’m not—I’m not dangerous, Wedge, and I can take care of myself. Besides,” you say, trying not to choke, “I think Gideon has the baby right now, b—because our ship was shot to shit—”

Wedge faces you again, putting both of his broad hands on your shoulder. Immediately, you close your mouth, suddenly anxious. You don’t know what he wants from you, and you don’t know if you should have told him about everything. But if he was friends—close friends—with Luke Skywalker, he shouldn’t be this uncertain about your Force sensitivity. You bite your lip, unsure how to react, but you can feel the anger and desperation slowly building back up in your chest, billowing like an old, ancient flame.

“Moff Gideon,” Wedge says, voice low, “is after your fiancé and your kid?”

Troubled, eyes furrow, you nod. “Yes.”

“And when you just left the base earlier today,” Wedge continues, his voice intense but slightly strained, “where did you go?”

“I—” You inhale, sharply, breaking his intent gaze to look over at the rest of the people in the room. Almost every single one of them is outfitted in the regalia reserved for admirals and generals, and the ones who aren’t are pilots. You know the uniform. You’re practically wearing it yourself. They’re all looking at you with a strangeness to them, eyes flickering back and forth between you and Wedge, as if asking for permission. “When we met Ahsoka Tano on Corvus,” you continue, trying to direct your conversation to both Wedge and the others in the room, “she told us—me and Grogu, my kid—that she couldn’t train us, because we had emotional attachments to one another. But she told us to go to the planet Tython,” you pause to swallow, mouth dry, “because it has a strong connection with the Force, and we could connect with a Jedi who could.” You stop, looking back at Wedge. “I heard him,” you whisper, “and I saw him. His lightsaber, lighting up the hallway of an Imperial cruiser. I know that Gideon was after my family.” You pause again, inhaling a shivering breath. “When I was just on Tython, I saw our ship. It was just rubble.” You’re trying so hard not to cry, but you can’t help yourself. “I’ve had visions, Force visions, for months now, of the planet. Gideon and his troops were after the baby, and I know Tython is where they took him.”

Wedge’s hand is up against his chin. He exchanges a quick, unreadable look at one of the generals, and then he faces back to you. “How many men does Gideon have?”

You look around at the people in the room again, and decidedly take a step forward, towards the table, towards the paused, flickering, blue hologram of Luke Skywalker pulsating up from the table. “A lot,” you admit, hand flying to your necklace before you startle with the realization that it’s not there, that you gave it to Grogu right before you were deserted out on Dantooine. “I know the galaxy is still in reparations from the fallen Empire.” You swallow, trying to meet the eyes of the rest of the people in the room. “But I don’t think the Empire is as fallen as we previously thought.”

Wedge moves in behind you, and a space opens up around the table. You smile, grateful, falling into rank with the other eight people in the room. “That’s what we’ve been afraid of,” he affirms, bumping his shoulder gently into yours, the same thing your dad always did when he wanted to include you. You let your stature relax, leaning in to examine the pulsing of the hologram on the table. “After we defeated the Empire, most people left the Alliance. It seemed like the natural thing to do when there wasn’t active, visible evil to fight off anymore. People wanted to get on with their lives.” He inhales, deeply. You can see worry lines chiseled into places they weren’t before, the last time you saw him. “Luke, though.” He stares at the rotating disillusion of his friend as he exhales, “Luke knew it wasn’t over. He’s been all over the place,” Wedge says, and this part sounds like it’s just for you, “trying to find people who can use the Force like he can, and like you can too. Trying to rebuild the Jedi Order.”

You swallow, looking up at him. “What does the hologram say?” Your voice comes out shaky and small.

Wedge sighs, pressing the button to play the message.

“Wedge,” Luke says, voice tinny but full of relief. “It’s been a long time, and I know you’re busy, but I need your help.” You watch, transfixed, at the blue, flickering image of the greatest Jedi in the galaxy. You swallow. “I think I’ve found someone. Maybe two people, I can’t be sure. I felt it through the Force.” He pauses again, giving Wedge a look that feels private, intimate, like something only for him to see. You avert your eyes. “I’m headed to the planet Tython. Then—then I’d like your help, and the Alliance’s, to help safeguard whoever I find.” You look at Wedge. “I know it isn’t fair to ask. I know I’ve been distant for a long time. But I need you to know that the galaxy is still in danger. I feel it, Wedge, and I know you can too. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, the holotable flicks off, the rotating, grainy, blue image of Luke Skywalker himself turned to dust.

“He found you,” Wedge says, but it sounds more like a question.

“No,” you whisper, voice small. “No—I saw him, but it was a premonition. I didn’t call out to him.” Your eyelids flutter, because you’re trying to hold back tears. “Grogu,” you say, voice even smaller than it was before. “Gideon has Grogu.”

Wedge exchanges looks with the others in the room, then looks back at you. You’re exhausted, and you rub your hands over your tired eyes, pressing until you see stars. “So Luke is going after Moff Gideon?”

“Yes.”

“So we need to help him.”

You spin around, back to Wedge and the generals. “No,” you enunciate, trying to stress just how bad that idea is with a single syllable. Then your words come flooding back. “No. We—you, any of you—cannot go after Gideon. I know you want to, and I know you’ve taken down plenty of the Empire, so I know you’re capable, but you can’t.” You look back at Wedge. “You can’t,” you whisper again. “I’ve seen him. He’s flattened entire cities in his destroyers, and he’s ruthless. He’s power-hungry, and anyone or anything that stands in the way of that is something that will soon be dead. I held him off once,” you say, projecting this part to the rest of the room, “once, and I barely got out of there in time, and it drained me for days. I still feel that exhaustion here. You can’t help Luke with this. Protecting me, and whoever the other Jedi are—that’s what you need to do. I know this is horrible. I know you probably feel helpless.” You swallow, fingers grasping around open air around your throat where your necklace used to be. “But you can’t take on Gideon. Not alone. And not even with all of you. I’ve seen how that story ends. It cost me my family.”

Wedge stares at you. “So you’re suggesting we do nothing? To help Luke Skywalker? To get your kids and fiancé back?”

The question burns. You meet his gaze. “No,” you answer, finally, “I’m suggesting we strategize before we attack.”

There’s rumblings from the generals in the background, but Wedge holds up a hand, and the low voices cease. You swallow, trying to push your shoulders back, give off confidence, but you’re not sure if it’s working. Wedge nods at you, and you feel relief spread through your whole body as he turns back to the generals. “Nova’s right,” he says. “There’s not enough of us left to adequately fight off Gideon and the troops he has.”

“He has a weapon, an awful one,” you say, stepping forward. “It’s called the Darksaber.”

No one seems to blink an eye at that one, but Wedge looks at you. “Is Gideon Force sensitive, too?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No,” you answer, softly, “but this weapon isn’t like a lightsaber. It’s cruel, and ruthless, and its blade is black, vibrating with a ring of white around it. He can use it, and he has, and he’ll continue to until he’s been stopped—”

Suddenly, all the lights start blinking, sirens blaring. You jump back in panic as everyone immediately mobilizes, starts pulling weapons out of hidden places, running out of the room. Wedge beckons for you to follow him, so you do, and your legs scream with the soreness of trying to climb to the top of the seeing stone back on Tython.

“What’s happening?” you yell, following Wedge into another control room.

“We’re under attack,” he answers, grimly, his face paling. “You need to go.”

You blink, coming to an abrupt halt. “What?”

“It’s Gideon’s men,” Wedge says, turning around to face you. “It’s not Gideon himself. But he’s sent in three fighters, and they’re big ones. I assume they’re after you?” he asks, and your stomach twists. Wedge starts striding towards the hangar, and you follow him, immediately getting blasted in the face with Hoth’s frozen air.

“It’s three fighters,” you say, urgently, “I’ve taken out six of them before, Wedge, singlehandedly, let me get in the air and I can shoot them down—”

“No,” he interrupts, “we’ve got it. I promise. You have to go. There will be a decoy ship alongside you, one that looks enough like yours so they’ll follow it. Only when that ship is clear do you leave the atmosphere, and then you immediately jump into hyperspace.”

You’re frozen.

“Do you understand?” Wedge asks, and you exhale, letting go of all the seizing stress in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes,” you answer, and he nods. You’re at Kicker, so you grab the parka out of Wedge’s outstretched hand, starting to climb.

“Rebel girl,” he calls, and you go back a step to catch his face. There’s so much there. You can feel it the same way you see how worn his worry lines were when you were reunited back on Dantooine. It’s longing, loss, and, somewhere hidden, hope. You see the way he’s trying to convey everything—condolences for your parents, plans to get Din and the baby back to you, whatever was going on between him and Luke—but he can’t vocalize it. You nod at him, smiling softly. “Fly safe,” Wedge says finally, “and let me know where you land. No matter what,” he tacks on, at the last minute, and you see for a split second how concerned he is, “do not turn around. Do you understand me?”

You want to defy him. You want to say no. You don’t want to leave, you want to stay and fight. You promised Din all that time ago that you wouldn’t run, and here you are, deserting the people that you’re supposed to protect. Finally, though, because of the look in his eyes, you nod. “Don’t you dare let them touch you,” you manage, and your voice only cracks on the last word, which is an improvement. Wedge nods back, and then he’s gone, running through the hangar to his X-Wing. You watch him take off, and your eyes track the decoy ship that’s supposed to be yours, and as the three fighters go after it, you exhale and punch it. You’re moving fast, too fast, and your takeoff is sloppy, but you know Wedge wouldn’t tell you to book it if he didn’t mean it, so you fly recklessly and you fly fast.

When you hurtle out of the atmosphere, you catch one of the fighters diverting from the group to chase after you, so you don’t even bother punching in coordinates. You just floor it. “C’mon, Kicker,” you whisper, voice low and desperate, as she shudders and groans to hop into warp. “I know you want to go slow, but now is really not the time—”

And, like the rebel she is, she sputters down to nothing.

“Fuck!” you scream, loud, too loud, it hurts your own ears, but you get up and start pounding on the dashboard while the fighter’s getting closer and closer. You look out the window as you flip switches and slam on buttons, and now you’ve got their attention, too, and you watch in panic as the ships flock to you, firing, trying to hail you on your comm.

“This is an order from Moff Gideon. Turn of your shields and lower your blasters.”

“Like hell,” you spit, “Kicker, I’m serious, I need you to work now—”

“This is an order from Moff Gideon. You have been warned once.”

“Warn me again, then,” you seethe, closing your eyes as you disconnect one of the wires and try to spark it with the other.

“This is an order from Moff Gideon. You are resisting capture. If you disobey one more time, we will fire on you instead of taking you prisoner.”

You ignore them. If this works, the ship will finally hop into warp, and you’ll be in the clear not only to evade, but to shoot back at them. If it doesn’t, you’re about to die in a fiery explosion, and all of your promises to Wedge would go—very quickly—down the drain. You cross your heart and pray to the Maker that you did the right thing, and then there’s nothing, just three very large—and very scary—TIE fighters about to surround you and take you prisoner at best, and then, finally, the glorious rebel she is, Kicker thunders to life. “Yes!” you scream, buckling in, cracking your neck, putting one hand on the accelerator and one thumb over your blasters. You have a second to do this, and you need to do it right.

“This is your final warning. Either board our ship or die.”

“Die,” you answer, your voice calm and not much like yours. As you speak, you push the accelerator forward, hit warp, and fire. You catch the biggest fighter right on the wing, not a hard hit, but enough to knock it back into the other two.

“Get back here, scum—” the pilot shouts, but you’re already in hyperspace.

“That’s Rebel scum to you,” you say, and the grin that swallows up your whole face is worth every bit of the close call.

You don’t know where to go. You don’t really care, because the farther you get away from the Alliance, the safer they’ll be, so you just set Kicker to coast through warp and lean back, seeing how far she’ll take you. Maybe she’ll dump you on a desert planet, or maybe she’ll crash land you on Nevarro again. Your heart feels daggered, impaled. There’s no way you could go back there. Sure, maybe Din wouldn’t be there, but Cara would be, and Greef Karga, and all the other people you met in the Guild. They’d ask questions, for starters, and Cara might go after Din and kick the shit out of him, and it would just leave you on the verge of tears. You want to go somewhere populated, you think, like Dantooine was, even though you know you can’t go back there yet. It’s too fresh, and Gideon’s men might come looking, and, besides, if Din wants you back, he’s going to have to chase you a little.

“Novalise,” you whisper to yourself, echoing the time almost a decade ago where you only had your name out here to hold onto, to bring you back to life. It still sounds like yours—no matter Din knowing it, no matter how you shared it with Arlen, no matter that it’s what everyone in the Alliance calls you now, after you told Wedge you prefer it to your original name. It’s yours, and right now, your own self feels like home.

So you coast. You hop out of warp every few hours to make sure that no one’s after you, but no one seems to have tracked you anywhere. It’s quiet out here, but it’s not the kind of shattering silence that it used to be. You sleep sometimes, huddling under the next of blankets for warmth, and then you go back to your chair to spin and look out at the stars.

You’re not sure how long it takes, but it feels like a few days when you finally decide to hop out of warp for good. You’re not sure exactly where you are, but you need food, and you need fuel, and you don’t think you drifted into the Mid Rim. It takes a little searching for anywhere that looks populated, but when you drift into the middle of an asteroid field, you realize you’re in Polis Massa. You’ve never been here. It’s not as filled with people as it used to be, once you break through the atmosphere on the rock that holds the research base, but it’s large and it has food and fuel. This is where your dad would go, before he joined the Alliance. Here and Coruscant, or what was left of it, had the most history about language and linguistics, and he’d take day trips from Yavin to collect as much research as he could to bring back and share with you.

It feels familiar here. Even though it’s not home, or anything close to it, you know that there’s something pulling you here, and something anchoring you too. The city is dense, but there aren’t a lot of people out and about. It’s dark here, darker than you imagined, so when you park Kicker in a landing bay, you bring a small flashlight with you. People don’t pay you much mind out on the street, even while you’re dressed in glaring orange, which is comforting after the close call you just had back on Hoth.

You wander. For a while, until the city starts getting lighter on the horizon line. Soon, the cafes and small markets on the street open up, and you sit outside, still wrapped up in your parka, glad to not be shivering. You eat, eventually, and have a steaming mug of caf, which helps. You don’t live the way it makes you feel, all jittery and nervous, and you don’t love the taste, either, but you’re happy for the warmth. Eventually, people filter in and out of the streets and you start to make your way deeper into the heart of the city.

You trip over the cobblestones at one point, practically launching yourself into the person ahead of you. You wince at his dirty look. “Sorry!” you call after him, and you hear him grumbling, but he acknowledges you with a nod. When you stand back up, you see where you are—the research institute your dad always talked about, where he’d go and spend hours reading about the different languages in the galaxy, to write them down and bring them back to you. You hesitate, for a second, and then you’re climbing the stone steps, driven by ache and longing.

It’s massive in here. It’s gorgeous, but huge, and the shelves are stacked all the way up to the ceiling. You have no idea where to start, but you pick an aisle at random and start browsing. You’re not sure what you’re looking for, if it’s something to connect you with your family or to connect you to this new life you’re haphazardly building for yourself, but you stumble again and nearly knock over the librarian.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage, seeing how tiny she is, how frail. “I’m sorry. I—”

“It’s quite all right, dear,” she answers, kindly, adjusting the wire-rimmed glasses on her face. “Can I hep you find anything?”

“The…language section,” you say, decidedly, eyes still caught on how many books there are here, how many years it would take you to read every one. “Linguistics.”

You follow her deeper into the labyrinth of bookcases, and when she shows you where the linguistics shelves are, you thank her excessively, your gaze buried deep on the titles on the spines. Most of them are in Basic, likely for inclusive access to anyone who ventures here, but there’s so many that have unfamiliar letters, the way they jut out and curl around themselves, and when your finger finds one, it falls open.

You don’t know what it is at first. You just feel called to it, opening it up and poring over the pages, and then a familiar word catches your eye. Kar’taylir. To know. To hold in the heart. Your own heart catches in your throat, stomach twisting itself over in impossible knots. You slam the cover closed to look closer at the text, and you realize it’s a dictionary of Mando’a, and all its translations.

There are tears in your eyes. You came here, to be closer to your father, sure, but also because you wanted to build something new. And you walked through these doors that held millions of books, and the one you picked out was a dictionary of language that your fiancé shared with you. It’s too much. You choke back a quiet sob, hoping everyone else here for research can’t hear your silenced wailing. Against your better judgement, you tear through the pages, looking for the familiar syllables, and when your finger finds the word cyar’ika, you have to close your eyes and desperately beg your heart to stop beating so horrifically, to slow the pulse down.

You follow the word over to its translation in Basic. Cyar’ika, it reads, sweetheart, beloved.

Beloved. Beloved. It says beloved, it doesn’t just mean sweet thing, it doesn’t mean that you’re kind and close to his heart. Din had been calling you his beloved for months, and then he fucking left you.

It’s too much. Everything is hot and fuzzy. You slam the book shut, heart pounding a staccato in your chest. Immediately, you get up and run. You don’t know where you’re going. In hindsight, you should have put the book back, but you didn’t. You’re running. You promised Din you’d never run, but he promised you forever and then stole it away, so you don’t owe him a damn thing anymore. You’re crying, loudly, openly, and when you rush by the same librarian you toss her a halfhearted apology.

You trip going down the steps, bang your knee up something horrible. It makes your eyes flash white hot for a second, but you pick yourself up and just keep going. You only have a vague idea where Kicker is, but you run in that general direction, blood dripping down your scraped knee, and then you’ve found the landing slot. You hurry up the ladder, not even bothering to get out the bacta kit that you stowed in the hull of the ship, just desperate to get out of here, to go somewhere else. It doesn’t matter.

You have history with Din on so many planets, it’s impossible to pick one where he won’t be hanging in the air. But something feels horribly right about heading to Tatooine, considering he hates desert planets and you can hide in plain sight. Maybe you’ll go to Mos Eisley and pick up bartending, maybe you’ll be a hermit that lives in the sand, maybe you’ll learn to speak Tusken and really never be seen from again. But before you breach the atmosphere, you call Wedge.

“Rebel girl,” he sighs, coming in almost immediately. “I was worried. You didn’t respond earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. That seems to be the only thing you can utter today. “I—I went into warp for a while, turned off my comm. I was just on Polis Massa, just for the day, but it’s not—”

“Safe there,” Wedge interrupts, and you want to tell him that’s not what you meant, but he’s still talking. “We intercepted the comms of some of the people sticking close to the Empire. There’s enemies there, I’m glad you got out.”

“Me too,” you say quietly. “I’m going to Tatooine. Not forever, just for a bit. I figure I can ditch Kicker—the ship—somewhere safe and get some sort of job for a few weeks, throw people off my trail.”

“Good call,” Wedge says, then he sighs. “Luke’s from there, you know.”

You swallow. “I know. Listen, don’t tell anyone else where I am, but if he asks—”

“I’ll tell him where you are,” Wedge assures you. “Can you get word out to your fiancé?”

You gulp, slowly coating towards the atmosphere line, watching how your whole vision fills up with sun and sand. “I’m not sure,” you say, barely anything at all. “Listen, Wedge, I gotta go. Thank you for checking in on me. I’ll tell you if I’m headed anywhere else.”

“Do that,” he agrees. “Lay low. Unless you need to go after Gideon. But if that happens, you call me. You have to promise you’ll let me help. Not the full Alliance, if you don’t want our guns and ships. But you have to call me. I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

Your eyes fill up with tears. You don’t have the energy to argue, really, so you don’t. You just nod, slowly, finding a safe place to land. “I promise,” you say eventually.

“Nova?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.” You hear the line go dead, but you nod again against your own company in the cockpit. “

“I will,” you manage, low and deliberate.

It’s hot out here. It’s a no-brainer, you know how relentless Tatooine’s suns are, but it’s even worse than you imagined. You shed the parka, most of the jumpsuit, and tie your hair up on the top of your head before you step out into the sand, but even then, in just your tank top and light pants, it’s ridiculously hot. You struggle for the first few klicks, and then the suns slowly start to go over the horizon, and it’s a bit more bearable. You drink the last of your water, and keep stumbling closer and closer to a settlement.

It’s not Mos Eisley, but it’s a cantina. Smaller, probably lower profile, and you stagger in with your empty water canteen and your bag full of the few credits you have left, and you pick a small table out of the way to sit down upon. The wall is cool, and you press yourself up against it as you signal the waitress.

She’s definitely not human, but you’re not sure what race she is, because the dark in here is such a stark contrast against how blinding the light was outside, and your eyes haven’t fully adjusted. “Hi,” you say, your voice coming out cracked. “Can I please get some water, and—and something to eat?”

“What would you like?” she asks, and you balk at the menu, all of which has meat on it. The thought of putting anything made out of mat in your mouth makes your stomach roil, so you shake your head.

“Is there anything you offer—um, that doesn’t have meat?” you ask, and your words come out small.

“We have a plate of vegetables,” she answers, “but they’re not the freshest—”

“I don’t care,” you interrupt, warmly, “that’s fine, thank you.”

She gives you a soft smile and offers you a whole pitcher of water. You should pour some in your canteen, but you just start drinking straight from the jug, gulping it down as fast as you can, trying to get rid of the dry heat in the back of your throat. When she comes back with your food, the water it totally drained, and you ask for a refill as your stomach grumbles.

“Can I get anything else for you?” she asks, and you shake your head, and she starts walking away.

“Wait,” you call after her, mouth full of food, “wait—uh, do you happen to have any positions open? For a job? I can’t offer much, but I’m a good cook, or I could clean, I’m good at that too—”

“What’s your name?”

You swallow around your mouth of food. “Novalise. And I usually have much better manners than this, I’m sorry.”

She smiles. “I’m Kuna,” she answers. “We only have pick-up jobs available around here right now, I’m afraid. It’s not steady pay, but it’s something, and at least it’s out of the heat.”

“Yes,” you say immediately, “yes, I would love that, whatever you have for me. Thank you.”

Kuna nods. “Dinner’s on the house,” she says, voice still lowered, “and you can come back sometime tomorrow to start, if that works.”

“Yes,” you nod. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much.”

You sleep better that night than you have in the last week, which isn’t saying much, but at least the hulking silence of being alone in the ship is satiated with the knowledge that you’re not going to be easily accessible to anyone that doesn’t wander into the cantina, and after you hike back to Kicker, you fly her closer to the hangar on the edge of town and cover most of the ship with a tarp you find rolled up in the hull. As long as stormtroopers or anyone associated with Gideon doesn’t stop in the hangar on the outskirts of town, you’re safe.

The work is hard, and slow, but it’s rewarding. It gives you that same distracted feeling that working with Arlen at the hostel did, and something to show for it. You mostly clean, sweeping out the freshers and scrubbing down the bar, but you get the stools spotless and you’re able to polish the backs and seats of some of the other cluttered chairs, moving tables back and forth to best optimize the space. After a few weeks of working a handful of days, Kuna lets you back behind the bar. Mostly, you’re making small drinks, no big cocktails or anything fancy, but you like it. It’s nice to interact with people, even if you don’t share a language with them, and it keeps your mind off the book of Mando’a and Din stranding you on Dantooine after promising you an eternity.

You don’t care that it’s temporary. There’s nothing momentary about heartbreak, nothing compartmentalized enough for you to simply forgive him. Not now. And maybe not ever. But your heart yearns for Grogu. Whenever you let your mind wander, you tap into the Force as much as you can, searching for him, or searching for Luke Skywalker, trying to figure out if they’re okay, if Grogu is still under Gideon’s grasp, and in the corners of your visions, you look for Din.

It’s involuntary. It hurts, and it leaves you reeling, heart spinning out into an abyss you can’t cartograph your way back from. So you try to stay distracted, try to keep busy. Days pass, and you’re not sure for how long, but they’re filled with work and you sleep at the end of them, restless, with nightmares, but you’re still getting sleep, and that’s all that matters right now.

Kuna lets you start serving drinks unsupervised, which isn’t much, but it makes you feel accomplished. The whole cantina looks better every day you’re here, and it’s something to be proud of, especially since you haven’t done anything to call attention to yourself other than being a woman in the middle of a skeevy bar in the desert, which just means you attract creeps instead of stormtroopers. It’s a good bargain. One night, you serve a regular, a Twi’lek with green skin, not purple, and you can look at her without seeing Xi’an, her dead body, or Din. She’s kind, and she asks about you as much as you ask about her, and you walk out of the bar to clean up the mess one group of people left behind, letting the rest of the people filter out for closing time.

When you hear your name, you think you’re hallucinating it. It comes out of nowhere, and the voice that it comes from is familiar, trusting, warm. And there’s the kicker: it’s unmodulated. You’re pretty sure you’re imagining it, because you’ve spent so many nights playing over Din’s voice in your mind, his promises, the way he broke them. And still, you freeze, turning around, feeling completely suspended on the space-time continuum.

Standing there, unmasked, heartbreak written all over his face, is your Mandalorian.

as always, reply here or send me a message to be added to the taglist!!!

I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!!! thank you all for being patient and bearing with me these past few weeks!! i promise more is coming, and we still have the whole last arc to go, so SM isn't ending soon ;) and when it does? i already have plans for a sequel in the works!

so sorry again that this is a day late!!! i hope you loved it anyway <3

xoxo, amelie

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mashbits · 4 years

Text

so I’m a tiny small brain who accidentally lost the original request bc I hit post instead of save draft 😭 I’m so sorry

but I got a request for an amazonian female mc with the brothers + undatables, so here it is 👉👈

Obey me boys + an Amazonian MC

Warnings ;; n/a

Fem!MC for this one!

Lucifer 🐺

He probably knew what to expect since he selected you

But w o w

He’s definitely a switch

You’re almost as tall as him, making eye-to-eye talks so much easier

He probably assumes you could take care of yourself for the most part, you look strong

But you’re still human

So he keeps an eye out, subtly staying by your side to keep you safe

Lowkey let him feel your muscles

And also if you compliment him. It will boost his ego

Yes he admires strong people don’t judge him

He keeps his cool most of the time, but if you two get closer

Lord Diavolo help him

Mammon 💸

Lowkey he’d be intimidated at first

But remember this boy is a dumbass who doesn’t know how to fear (mostly)

He’d boast about being your protector and stuff all the time

But in reality you’re the one beating up hoe ass demons for him

If you carry him bridal style he will pass away

Here lies Mammon, his human killed him and he’s okay with that

If you show a lot of skin around him he’ll die even faster

Curse his head in the gutter

If you wanna make him happy you can say he’s your hero/compliment his own strength

Coming from you, he will cry

He loves you a lot okay 😭💞

Leviathan 🕹

Tbh he doesn’t care at first

He’s a shut in, yucky otaku anyways

You may be super tall for a human, really strong, beautiful, big thighs-

No! He has more important things to focus on

Like Ruri-Chan

If you show interest in his likes he’ll be hella tsundere about it

But also really happy 👉👈

You probably remind him of one of his favorite female heroine from a game or anime series

Cosplay said heroine and he will faint on the spot

Pls be the big spoon he really needs the affection

Touch starved b a b y

If you show a lot of skin he’ll get a nose bleed I’m telling you

Satan 📚

Oh he’s read about this before

He’s read a lot about humans and their races, cultures, traditions, etc.

He finds it interesting

He’d want to hear it from the source though

He’ll casually ask you about your family, lowkey eager to learn

Fucking nerd I love him

He’d love to see you stand up to Lucifer

Again, despite your strength, he knows demons are very much more powerful than humans

But he’d have fun seeing you try and beat one up

Who am I kidding you would win

You can see his devilish gears running

Admires you and your strength

Asmodeus 💅🏻

You’re so??? Fucking??? Gorgeous?!!??!

What’s your skin care routine 😭

He’ll want to style your hair and feel your body (non-sexually I swear) and just

A b s

Biceps yes pls

He’d want to have fashion shows with you

Definitely goes out to get custom made clothes to better fit your body and shape

Also to show off your muscles

He’ll want to paint your nails and shit too

Just let this boy admire your beauty sob

Ofc no ones as beautiful as him

But goddamn you’re up there

Beelzebub 🍔

Tbh

He doesn’t hawk over you like the others

He’s definitely a personality guy overall sobs

But he’ll want to work out with you if you’re okay with that

He likes that you’re strong and capable, but he also likes everything about you

The hugs

Two strong ppl hugging each other

Pure bliss

He’s definitely larger when it comes to muscles

But that doesn’t matter

Pls just cuddle with him and eat together after working out he’ll appreciate it

Belphegor ��

Tall and muscular?

His cup of tea

For a new pillow

He’s used to using Beel for naps, so you best be ready for Belphie to cuddle with you

Naps with you are 👌👌

You feel comfy and familiar, it’s a refreshing feeling

Also doesn’t care about looks, but he will admire your beauty

Strong jaws are his weakness don’t @ me

If you’re dating he’ll want to lazy kiss you all over

Big or little spoon he doesn’t care

As long as he gets strong girl naps 😔✊

Diavolo 👑

Again, he also knew what you’d look like before you arrived

But uh

New queen?? Is that you???

Diavolo will compliment you as much as he can

His hugs with you are also top tier I stg

Proud man

He’s happy you’re fitting in with the program, and definitely feels better knowing you can handle yourself

Strong both physically and mentally is sexy

He will get on one knee

Barbatos 🌓

He’s just following Diavolo man

Definitely finds you interesting however

He’s a scrawny demon sobs

He doesn’t actively seek out to interact with you, but he enjoys talking

Okay look maybe he’ll get a crush on you if he sees you at one of Diavolos parties, dressed up where he can see your curves and muscles still

But he’s a butler, a serious man!

Feelings can’t come first

Pls appreciate him he’s doing his best and succeeding

Solomon 🐍

Again, he finds you interesting

Prefers to watch from the sidelines

Shady bitch but we stan

He’ll make sly comments about you and your strength, but smirk cause he’s got the advantage with magic

He refuses to be submissive I swear

So maybe he’s intimidated and doesn’t want to lose his stance

But at the same time he’ll definitely drop in subtle compliments

You’re hot what can I say

He likes a strong woman wink wonk

Simeon 🕊

He’s so sweet wtf

Body doesn’t matter to him either but he admires you so much from your first meeting??

Humans are so fascinating!

He’s just a good boy pls

He’s the dad to your mom

You’re legally married if you adopt Luke and honestly he’s okay with that

Will also compliment you tons but he compliments both beauty and personality

Luke 🐶

B a b y

You don’t adopt him he adopts you

He’ll hide behind you when he’s afraid of a demon

While denying it of course

But he thinks you’re so cool!! You could fight off the bad demons and he’ll laugh

His mom is a badass (but he’s not allowed to swear)

Protect him with your life or I will

#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #obey me! shall we date #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #headcanons #obey me headcanons #my babies #i love them #otome

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angelyuji · 4 years

Note

Hey, I really like your writing and I was wondering if you could write an imagine where the current criminal minds team is possessive/obsessed with the reader and maybe they can't get ahold of her for some reason so they freak out? Thank you!! I love you!! ~💖

by currect bau, im guessing you mean luke, tara, matt and no hotch? lol I hope so cuz I wrote for them and the others. sorry hotch fans ;(

(readers phone has died)

DISCLAIMER: this is all fiction!! I do not condone these types of relationships or these kinds of obsessions with people.

emily:

emily. does. not. panic.

before she calls the bau for help

she always calls you and checks places you used to frequent before dating Emily

if she can’t find you there, she’ll ask for garcia’s help

she’ll ask to keep it lowkey so she can find you w/o any added stress.

obviously by now, she’ll have found you.

“where were you? i was worried sick.”

she’ll pull you into a hug and whisper into your ear, “pull that shit again and ill chain you to the floor so you’ll never go outside.”

JJ:

with jj, she’ll probably panic and be like any normal person that can’t reach their s/o

she’ll call you 20x and leave 100+ messages

and if you still haven’t responded, she’ll call you again.

i feel like jj wouldn’t call for the bau because she doesn’t believe youre trying to escape

she thinks you’ll come back

and shes right.

u do come back and she gives you hugs and kisses and everything

you probably didn’t pick up becuz your phone died.

“don’t ever forget to charge your phone again.” she’ll say as you cuddle. she’ll kiss your temple and you’ll probably just cuddle with her and her kids.

reid:

the first thing he does is call you then he panics.

“WHERE ARE YOU? DID U LEAVE ME?”

plan a) look for you at places you frequently visited and if he still doesn’t find you?

plan b) he’ll call Emily straight away.

the bau will be on the case soooo fast

they’ll basically hunt you down and (obviously) find you in like 30 minutes if youre not trying to hide

if youre trying to escape or hide, 2-3 hrs.

the first thing spencer would do is hug you and cry into your shoulder.

“don’t ever do that to me pls” he’ll basically just cry and say shit like:

“this is why i don’t trust new technology.”

he won’t threaten you… at least not until you get home.

Rossi (platonic):

omg if you’re out of reach? holy shit when he finds you, ur in deep shit.

rossi panics on the inside. he looks calm but hes stressing cuz youre practically his kid and hE caNT LOSE YOU

he’ll call the bau for help, he’ll text and call you, and then they’ll calmly look for you

they’ll find you pretty fast ngl

but he’ll be a mess till youre found cuz ur basically his kid and he’s basically ur dad

once he finds you, you’ll get hugs and dinner and everything nice

and after things have calmed down, “how could you be so stupid to not charge your phone? You’re grounded. don’t bother asking to set foot outside this house.”

Matt:

cool, calm, and collected.

matts a mild yandere so basically jj but like even more mild.

he won’t call the bau, he’ll wait for you to come home becuz he trusts you and u trust him.

you’ll come home, explain your phone died and bing bang boom. everything is peachy

he’ll force you to cuddle tho becuz you were late

Tara:

she can handle her shit.

she has broken you down enough where she knows you’ll come home.

tara won’t bother calling the bau and wasting their time w/ ur pathetic ass

you’ll come back to her and she knows it

of course when you come back. she’ll have to punish you cuz u broke the rules

and there is nothing more that tara hates than when you break the rules.

Penelope:

the first thing that penelope does is panic, the second thing is call you.

she honestly probably doesn’t even need the help of the bau, but it makes her feel better knowing that theyre looking for you too

she’ll find u browsing the candy and chips aisle at your local Jewel-Osco, and send the entire bau team to basically kidnap you

she’ll grab you and the first thing she’ll do is cry.

“I thought i lose you! pls don’t ever leave me again!”

Luke:

hes chill and he trusts you’ll be back home in an hr or two.

of course he’ll call u but he’ll guess that ur phone is dead.

if youre not back, he’ll assume the worst and all of a sudden the entire fucking swat, police, and fbi are in ur lawn.

roxy will look for u too! she’ll try to sniff you out.

once youre found, roxy would be the first to welcome you home!

luke will greet you with so much love and kisses

but don’t worry, luke won’t let insolence go unpunished.

im sorry that last few were short and the fact that luke and reid were kinda ooc. i hope you enjoyed either way :)

#criminal minds #yandere headcanons #yandere #kidnapping #the bau #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #bau x reader #spencer reid #tara lewis #penelope garcia #luke alvez #david rossi #matt simmons

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myersesque · 4 years

Text

jatp episode 2 liveblog!!! (again, plot speculation may occur, i don’t actually know anything that’s gonna happen so don’t confirm or deny)

alex being like “i’m sad i want hugs- DON’T TOUCH ME 3:<” is such a mood tbh

I LOVE THESE DUMBASS GHOSTS. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH WAIT

damn reggie has a leather jacket AND a flannel tied around his waist? we get it dude ur bi (/jk but 👀)

wait,,, her playing the song her mum wrote for her to keep her memory alive,,, like the boys playing their music to keep their memories alive? vbcjbhcn

“...you are SO lucky you can play bass.” HBFCJFBYNUHCVJHBVJ

calling it once again that bobby is julie’s dad

nice to know my gaydar still works. anyway stan alex

this song is so cute?? a bop

alex and luke... would b cute together, just saying

alex is still my fav so far but i stan all 3 of these himbo ghosts

i love how luke’s over here like “ur power to play piano and sing!!!” like julie isn’t literally talking to ghosts???

i want someone to look at me like luke looks at that fridge

this show title sounds like a band name so i swear to GOD if she doesn’t form a magic band w the ghostie boys then i’m gonna riot

flynn is iconic actually

carrie seems mean but a) her boyfriend(?) seems nice and b) i actually rlly like this whole overly-glittery bratz doll band aesthetic? it’s bothering me that the colours aren’t symmetrical (why 2 blues but no other repeat colours???) but yk

i’m gonna add every song to my playlist i swear

THIS. HIGHKEY SLAPS I’M SORRY. CARRIE HAS SOME RIGHTS IG

THIS IS EPIC BUT LIKE. CAN THEY SEE THE BOYS? CAN THEY SEE THEIR INSTRUMENTS? DO THEY THINK A BACKING TRACK KICKED IN OR??? I

OK YEAH THEY CAN SEE THEM BVCJHVBNHBJVCBNHJ I’D BE LOSING MY SHIT TOO IF I SAW THESE PPL PHASING THRU OBJECTS ON STAGE

HBVJCKHBVUJC can’t wait for this school to have the Cryptid Rock Band Ghosts

#mine #jatp #jatp liveblog #spoilers #jatp spoilers

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malicerewatchesdoctorwho · 3 years

Text

Fury From the Deep - Episode Six

Written by - Victor Pemberton Director - Hugh David Producer - Peter Bryant Animation Director - Luke Marcatili, Chloe Grech and Gary Russel Animation Producer - Luke Marcatili, Chloe Grech and Gary Russel

Episode Six

("It's her scream, her particular pattern of sound that does the trick!" - The Doctor about Victoria being the weapon against the weed with her scream to Megan and Harris.)

Likes

- I love, and I mean really love, that a female character screaming is the key to winning the fight. Like, Victoria destroys these things by screaming at them. And though it may be a bit weird and people think young female characters in this show do nothing but...Victoria doesn't scream as much as, say, Susan. At least, it doesn't feel that way.

- The Doctor and his absolute excitement about getting a chance to pilot one of the helicopters. Just...it's new, it's exciting and it's something he would love to do.

- The other pilot, seeing that they got out in the other helicopter comes over and helps the Doctor fly the helicopter and keep them in the air. Nice fellow.

- Megan getting shit done on what little she knows. Nice. I knew I liked this woman.

- Yes, more of the Doctor building gadgets to help save the day. I love when he does that!

- Ooh, Price's chair! He's in a wheelchair! I didn't know that. Nice. I like some disability in people who help save the day.

- Everyone just sitting down and enjoying a nice dinner with each other. It's a nice way to end an adventure, and one the Doctor and his companions really don't get enough of.

- How upset Jamie looks after the Doctor tells him it's up to Victoria to make her own decisions in life and if she wants to stay it is up to her. :(

- Jamie giving Victoria not one but two forehead kisses in goodbye. I love the dynamic between these three so much. This is team as family.

Dislikes

- Uh, Harris, you've been pretty decent this whole story...and now you're turning into a total downer in this last episode. Why? It's like he doesn't want to try to save anyone but the people on the command centre he is in and that's it, screw everyone else, including his wife. Just...wow.

- Umm, can anyone please explain where the Doctor kissing Megan's hands and kind of flirting with her come from? Because that part came out of nowhere! Has he done that with anyone else? I seriously don't remember him getting kissy with anyone. Flirty, yes, kissy, no.

Awesome

- I love the way they animated the killer kelp in this. Just look at that weed move! It looks so awesome, especially when it is huge and covering the ocean and spouting up everywhere.

- Doctor's little toy of his own. Sound laser, nice.

- Oh my god, the amplifiers everyone used on the weed attacking the hub they're in. They look like huge earbuds. Nice going there predicting the future, Doctor Who!

Shitty

- Missing, but thankfully little left is missing, yeees. Only 2 more recon serials to go! Also, this is animated whoo!

- Please why do you have Jamie and Victoria trying to find each other while the Doctor is getting plot relevant info from Robson? It's like we're getting a behind the scenes rescue attempt while getting story at the same time and it's just more people talking over each other.

- Hahaha in several shots while the Doctor is piloting the helicopter, it looks like he yanks the handle right off XD

In Conclusion

It's a nice conclusion. Only about half the episode is the actual fight against the weed. The rest of it is dinner to relax and the Doctor and Jamie's goodbyes to Victoria.

The first half is exciting and full of movement and action, all of it using sound to kill the weed. Nice.

The second half is relaxed, full of laughter and sadness and goodbyes.

Body count - 1. The seaweed. Can you believe there was not one single person who died in this? At all? The only death is the seaweed itself. And Victoria nailed it. I'm putting this as only one, as it seems to be one entity that just grows and spreads and can split.

Fury From the Deep as a Whole

If you are going to watch this one, please do it with these animated episodes. It's watchable and can be fun here with the movement and the animation is nice for the most part.

Don't attempt this one with the recons at all. It doesn't work. I forgot half the characters even existed episode to episode, I couldn't remember character names with the exception of Megan, I could barely understand what was going on at all...yeah, the recons are just bad for this one. This is a total nightmare trying to watch that way and yeah, it put me off wanting to watch it again even here with the animated version.

That wasn't a problem past the first episode though. It's actually a decent story, though not the best. Some episodes are great, some are not. Two episodes I still didn't like, but the rest was definitely watchable.

We also get the lovely goodbye to Victoria. I feel like Victoria gets one of the best goodbyes of any companion with One and Two. It isn't sudden, it is over half an episode, the characters clearly are seen caring for each other. It's a really nice way to end the episode with.

Oh, also I watched the B&W edition of this, as I go for whatever is on the first disc. There is a colour edition available. So, you get your pick with this one.

#Classic Doctor Who #doctor who #Fury From the Deep #episode six #epic rewatch #Second Doctor #Jamie McCrimmon #victoria waterfield #seaweed

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irwintry · 5 years

Text

Jean Jacket

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drug mention

Summary: Y/N and Luke have been best friends, but they haven’t seen each other in years. Based loosely off of the song “Jean Jacket” by The Summer Set.

Word Count: 9.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You messaged him at 10:14 in the morning. It felt unnatural, and a knot formed in your stomach once you hit send.

You:

hey.

string bean

He didn’t reply until 6:24 that night.

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Don’t call me that.

I’m toned now.

You:

oh my bad

what’s a thicc vegetable

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I don’t know

You:

you have cool hair

so do asparagus’

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Don’t call me asparagus.

You:

sorry

sexy stalk of corn

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I hate you

You:

i love u squid

should i learn how to use photoshop

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Absolutely not

I don’t want to be photoshopped onto corn

What do you want?

You:

oh sorry am i bothering u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Yes

You:

rude

string bean

Message not delivered.

why aren’t my messages sending

did u block me

wtf asshole

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Hehe

You:

i'm gonna kick ur ass

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Good luck reaching it.

You:

ok getting on a plane rn

and jokes on u

i'm bringing a step ladder w me

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I’ll pay

You:

bet?

did u just fucking venmo me

squid????

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Maybe

You:

luke

do u want me to visit u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I just venmo’d you

You:

wait do u rly want me to visit u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Yeah.

You:

wait ok shit... when works best for u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Literally whenever

You:

don’t u have tours and shit

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Not for five months

You:

oh fuck.

ok I’ll start looking

shit dude

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I miss you.

You:

i miss u 2 squid

sorry i mean

string bean

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

JK. Can you venmo me back?

You:

no fuck u

it’s mine now

You weren’t in airports often.

You never grew accustomed to the atmosphere–– the hustle and bustle of business class and the lack of knives in terminal restaurants. You had no reason to be acquainted. Yet, there was still a familiar panic that gripped you as you stood shoeless and alone in the line for security. The terminals were each a maze of their own, and the heavy Jansport hanging off of your shoulder pushed down against your tight muscles.

You preferred traveling with another person. In fact, you preferred to not travel at all. The comfort of your home held Jeopardy re-runs and take-out Chinese. Whereas your terminal had startling gate announcements and overpriced froyo, and they didn’t even have toppings. The bathrooms smelled of poo no matter what time you chose to use them, and you sat on the toilet in mild discomfort, suitcase meshed between you in the broken metal stall. The same abandoned luggage announcement had played sixteen times since your arrival through security.

But you tried to think about the positive outcome of your travel. You saw yourself running up to him, hands slipping the bulky luggage to the ground as you threw your arms around him. He stood there smiling and calling you old nicknames you had been forced to read over text for six to seven years. And then he would take your hand and guide you to his car, his ever-present smile never faltering because you were there, and he was with you. It would be just like old times.

You thought about all of the places you would go and the people you would meet. Anxiety puddled your head when you thought about meeting his friends. They were untouchable, glamor and gold and all things Hollywood untold. And you were you, but Luke had changed, too.

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Still arriving at 6:13 in Terminal B?

You:

u bet ur (terminal B)um

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

That was one of your worst.

You:

ur right i gotta work on my comebacks on the flight

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

That wasn’t a comeback...?

You:

tHat WasN’t a CoMebAcK

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Die.

You fell asleep on the flight.

Economy class forced you between a professor in his mid-forties and an athletic coach whose knees nudged against yours every time he shifted. You had started the flight off with a movie, some Anna Kendrick rom-com that stimulated a headache worth three bottles of Ibuprofen. Soon enough you were hobbling over long legs, bladder aching from an unbearable pressure, and then the lavatory was occupied.

You filled the next few hours with a playlist you had made for the flight. Luke’s songs lulled you to sleep–– but you wouldn’t tell him that. You wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction, not unless the moment called for it. That moment only occurred a few times within a year. That moment occurred during the times he came to you when he thought he had no one else.

And you would never tell him how selfish you felt. You would never admit that you loved those moments because you felt important. You felt like he needed you.

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep for after you woke. The plane was dark and quiet, and not a soul breathed a word. So, you settled down into your seat and kept the light of your phone low. The time was 5:35 in the morning.

The airplane awakened a little after six o’clock, brightness flooding in followed by a chorus of groans and moans. You toyed with the sleeves of your jacket and felt incredibly small. The nerves in your chest simmered, and you thought about the shaky steps you would soon take to reach the arms of an old friend. You didn’t know why the blistering excitement felt so bad. You wanted to sit back down and take a one-way flight all the way back home.

Luke was in airports all too often.

He grew accustomed to suitcases rattling against filthy marble floors. He memorized the high-pitched, buzzy tone of squeaking escalators in frequented terminals. The familiarity overwhelmed him, and he had almost convinced himself he was among the many travelers on this day.

But he stood alone, not a single ounce of hurry in his bones while he waited for the arrival of an old best friend. The rising sun outside seeped through the large glass windows, yet the warm colors touched his back and kept his chest cold. He wanted your embrace, and he wanted the heat of your smile. Because he didn’t quite remember how it made him feel. He saw your face through pictures and videos, but the comfort of your presence faded from his memories.

Strangers eyed him. He could picture them searching the depths of their brain and wondering why they knew him. At the moment, he wished he wasn’t known. He wished he was seventeen again, the year the excitement was fresh and when the world didn’t seem so small. He wished he still knew you like he had back then.

Luke was tired.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

i need some fucking food

He felt nauseous and numb as he laughed at your words. It was like stage fright, like the intense, sickening nerves had hadn’t felt in years. His fingers trembled against the screen of his phone.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

also where r u

can u meet at baggage claim

i get nervous when i have to pick up my bag

i get scared that i’m gonna miss it

is that weird

Luke’s stomach knotted, and he typed out a quick affirmation while he kept his eyes locked on the small crowd of faces. Faces that looked like they hadn’t slept in forty years. But then again, Luke felt as though he looked the same way.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

what happens if i miss my bag

Luke:

It comes back around.

Don’t worry

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

fffuckkkkkk customs

Luke:

Lol.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

escalators escalators escalators

Luke:

Eels.

Luke swallowed the bile rising to his throat. It had been years. He hadn’t seen you face-to-face in years, and he still wondered what it was about the moment that made him nervous. The anxiety caused him to shiver, and he tugged the sleeves of his sweater up and under his fingers. His eyes ached from lack of sleep, but he hoped your energy would change that. He hoped his nerves would ease the minute you opened your mouth. All he wanted was for it to feel natural.

He thought he saw you. He thought he had immediately recognized you from across the room, but the stranger was in a dress. Luke knew you would never––in your right mind––wear a dress to travel anywhere. So, he kept his eyes on the person as they walked away, and then there was a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey Squid.”

Luke glanced to his right, heart stammering in his chest at the sound of your voice. You were smiling, your eyes tired yet warm while the jean jacket you wore swallowed you whole. His jean jacket.

“You busy later?”

He cleared his throat and reached up to brush a few hairs away from his face. He didn’t know how to speak or initiate any kind of touch. He didn’t know how to talk to you anymore. “Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled with a small smile. “Got plans.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “You do?”

Luke hummed. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking. “Meeting up with this old friend,” he said. “They flew all this way t’see me, and to be honest, that was kinda dumb of them.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you replied with a laugh. “We gonna hug or just like, stand here looking like assholes?”

“The latter,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. Luke laughed as he allowed himself to push down nerves and throw his arms around you. It was a warm hug, just like he wanted it to be. “I see you still got that fuckin’ jacket.”

“Technically, it’s your jacket,” you said, pulling away. Your hair was messy, but he found it endearing. You looked like his best friend even though the years had separated the two of you. You looked soft and sweet, and he didn’t know why he wanted to keep holding you.

You nodded to yourself. “Got my suitcase,” you told him. “No thanks to you. In case you didn’t know, this isn’t baggage claim.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “’m sorry. I’m tired.”

“Oh, sorry to bother you,” you replied, smiling brightly before sending him a wink. “I’ll be going then.” You took a few steps toward the door.

Luke caught your arm. “No, no, you’re not leaving me. We’ve come this far. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, joy.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm, babe,” he said, and two of you made your way outside into the cool morning.

You stumbled behind him, your suitcase smacking against large chunks of concrete on the sidewalk. “Babe? Shit. I just shuttered.”

Luke chuckled. His nerves hadn’t disappeared, but he tried hard to ignore them. He felt out of place. He felt as though his head and his body did not exist on the same plane. He felt like he was caught in a dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare.

“Hey, Lu?” You yawned and curled yourself up in the passenger seat of his car.

Luke thought you looked too damn good. He wanted to tell you. “If you put your feet on my dash, I’ll kill you,” he said instead.

You mumbled something incoherent.

Luke slid his keys into the ignition. “Okay, well, that was not English,” he said, “but nice try.”

“Shut up. I’m tired.”

“I’m tired,” he mocked.

You hit his arm, and his laughter filled the small car. “I’ll kill you first. I was gonna ask you if we can get breakfast, but I changed my mind.”

Luke kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, but he ached to look over at you. He ached to take you in and memorize you like he had done over seven years ago. “We can get breakfast, babe,” he said quietly, glancing your way, and then he smiled. Your knees were pressed to your chest, and you had closed your eyes.

At the stop sign, Luke waited a moment to accelerate. The sunrise painted gold into the sky and onto your skin. He wondered if you had always looked this beautiful. He wondered if he had ever thought so before. All he could remember was the present, and every memory was drowned out by the soft scent of your perfume in his car.

The jean jacket you wore had been his once. He never saw how it looked on you. And he never imagined that the sight of you in it would one day take his breath away.

“Do you think I should leave it unbuttoned like this?”

“You’re really asking for my opinion on that?”

“Yes.”

You narrowed your gaze.

“Okay, you’re right,” he said, “unbuttoned it is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Love that my opinion is so valued.”

It had only been a day. Your body clock had yet to reset to the time difference, and you spent the afternoon prior knocked out on Luke’s bed with Petunia cuddled against your stomach. It hadn’t been a terrible way to nap, although your neck ached when you woke. The situation was still surreal. You still refused to believe you had traveled across the globe to visit someone you felt like you hardly knew. Except you did know him. He was Luke. He ate his gummy worms with peanut butter.

Yet, your eyes lingered on his figure on your way into his kitchen. You gazed a little too long when he talked about his plans with you. Whenever he nudged your shoulder or poked your arm, you thought about his touch for a few minutes after. It had only been a day.

And it didn’t take long for him to invite you out to a club.

You didn’t like the feeling of the leather seats against your thighs on the drive into the city. Your shorts had ridden up, and you had the sense that something about the night was off. It wasn’t the intoxicating fragrance of Luke’s cologne or the exposed bit of chest that drove you wild. It wasn’t the unbroken melody he sang loudly or the expensive boots that added an inch or two to his already-towering height. It was how expensive he looked–– how untouchable he was. You had thrift your jean shorts for $15, and Luke was missing a button off of his designer shirt. But there was something else about the night that bothered you, and you couldn’t quite place it. So, you belted along to his favorite songs and pretended as though you didn’t feel sick to your stomach.

Luke’s smile hardly faltered throughout the night. He introduced you to faces you assumed you would never see again, and then he would buy you another drink without asking. You could feel his energy, and not even the blasting bass could distract you from the weight of his laughter. He knew everyone, but it didn’t come as a shock. He had always loved people, and people had always loved him.

So, you sat quietly on the couch, feeling miles apart yet inches away at best. You twirled the tiny straw with two fingers and watched your old best friend bounce from person to person. He had a big heart, you told yourself, he loved people. But the thoughts never pushed down the sinking feeling that he had forgotten about you. It was halfway through the night, and you had been sitting alone for forty-seven minutes. Luke was nowhere to be seen.

You:

luke

You placed your phone in between your thighs. One single text had sent your heart into your throat, and you weren’t sure why. You weren’t sure why you felt so sick at the thought of his response.

You:

r u ok

where’d u go

A few strangers crowded around the couch Luke placed you at. It was his usual spot, he said. No one ever took his spot. But you sat alone, and not a soul cared to join you. They knew you didn’t belong here.

You:

string bean

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I’m okay.

:-)

You sighed, letting your head rest against the leather cushion while you watched drunken interactions play out. A song you recognized played throughout the cramped club, and you wished you were anywhere else. You wished you were on a bench overlooking the ocean with a bag of tacos separating you and your friend. You wished you were on the bike path by your house, hand-in-hand with someone you had known all too well. You wished you hadn’t fallen witness to a life you had no part in. You wished you could be the person he wanted you to be.

You:

ok i’m just chillin

The empty glass from your drink had perspired onto the table. After a while, the heat of the room had melted the ice as well, and you were stuck wishing you could conjure up the courage to join the crowd. But you couldn’t. You felt out of place, like you didn’t quite belong. All eyes told you so. You carried on waiting, but you were no longer sure what it was you were waiting for.

You:

r u getting hungry

You stopped waiting for a response after fifteen minutes. Luke had left you for two hours in a club, in some town you had never been to before. He had left you, and you had only been with him for a day. An unsettling feeling grew in your stomach, but you wanted to reject it as much as you could. It was Luke, the boy who shot carrots out of his Nerf Guns but ended up giving himself a black eye. It had to be the same Luke.

You gathered up some strength to stand up. The battery on your phone had been roasted from too many games of Solitaire, and Luke still wasn’t answering your texts. You reached down for your sweating drink, but a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders before you could.

“Sleepy,” he said, smushing his face against your back. “Why do you smell like pancakes?”

Your body felt frozen beneath his touch. Every muscle tensed. “I don’t,” you replied. “Can we–– can we go? Is that okay?”

Luke’s arms slid off of you, and you could feel his presence now to the right of you. And for some reason, your head hurt at the thought of looking at him. Yet, you did. His curls had slicked down against his rosy, albeit shiny skin, and his eyes were red and droopy. For those few seconds, you weren’t sure why you had thought him attractive. But it quickly changed. He was looking at you, completely looking at you, and he could tell something was wrong.

“Yeah,” he said, his lips falling into a frown. “Course. You okay?”

You nodded and swallowed back the aching tears that threatened in your eyes. “Jet-lagged,” you mumbled. “That’s all.”

Luke nodded, too. “Okay. Yeah. We can go. I’ll get us an Uber.”

“What will you do about your car?”

He seemed to shrug it off, but it was hard to tell through the mass of sweaty bodies. “She’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to get her.”

“I’m sorry.” You hugged your arms close to your chest as the heat from the club transformed into the cool night air.

“No big deal,” said Luke. “Just another Uber trip to come get her. Then I can take her right back.”

“No, um, about leaving,” you responded. “I’m sorry that I wanted t’leave.”

Luke glanced at you from over his shoulder, brows furrowed and lip tugged between his teeth. “Don’t be, babe. I was gonna leave soon anyway.”

You nodded, and an uneasy silence settled in the air. You wished for the right words to say, but you brain went blank, and you found yourself counting cars that passed by.

“It’s really good to see you again,” said Luke after a while. His voice was low and hoarse, and it made you feel a new type of warmth. “Forgot what it was like t’be with you. It’s nice. Like a breath of fresh air.”

You smiled at him, but you knew that was all you could do.

“Missed you a lot.” He smiled at you, too, and through that smile, he whispered, “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

Luke thought it hurt to look at you. Because when he did, he was reminded of the person he had left behind, the person he could have been had he stayed. You reminded him of a lost potential within himself, and he didn’t like it. It made him feel dejected, like a lost cause. And looking at you caused much more pain than that. Looking at you was like looking at the world in color for the first time. He saw you differently, and he wondered if this was how he was always supposed to see you.

It was unavoidable— the dawning feeling that only worsened every day. You had only been with him for a week. A whole week of stealing glances and swallowing down irritant thoughts that a best friend shouldn’t have. A part of him felt like he couldn’t call himself that. He felt like he knew you, but he didn’t know you. He read your personality through words and not actions. Maybe it was time he opened his eyes to the person you had become.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

can u not send me tweets rn

u r literally right next to me

loser

Luke:

Can you not be rude?

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

Luke:

Fight me.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

hehe ok

kinky

Luke:

Shut up

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

i feel the sexual tension already

Luke took a breath and glanced your way. The afternoon had been spent with his friends; a brimming beer cup soirée spent around the fire in Calum’s backyard. And for some reason, Luke felt like an anomaly. He had better luck counting the hairs on his leg than concentrating on a single conversation. Meanwhile, you cradled your first drink of the night, torso hidden behind the heavy jean jacket he once owned. Beneath it, only a floral bathing suit covered you, and it was enough to make Luke wonder why he had bothered leaving home in the first place.

He couldn’t hear what his friends said, but he could focus in on every little thing about you. From the shape of your legs, all tucked in beneath you to the small smile you wore as you listened to his friends speak. Your hair had dried from the few minutes you spent in the pool, and after a while, you pulled it out of your face and up into a bun. Luke thought you looked pretty, and he knew it wasn’t the initial heat of the fire that warmed him.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was wrong. You were quiet––timid almost––while you gazed at the palm shadows against the sunset. Even beyond the smiles, you seemed lost. Luke wanted to know why.

Luke:

You hungry?

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

fucking starving

tell cal to get better snacks

Luke:

Lol.

I want tacos

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

yoooooooooooooo

can we get tacos?

Luke:

Let’s get some fucking tacos

You hadn’t realized how hard it would be.

Luke started a new life for himself seven years prior, and it messed up your world for a while. It had messed up plans and memories you wanted to make with him. You started your own life without the company of your best friend, but he was still a text message away whenever you needed. Because he was still your friend. He still told you every little detail about his life. You knew how things had changed for him, whether they were for better or worse.

You hadn’t realized you would one day face the life he chose for himself. You hadn’t realized how hard it would be. He was the same, but he was so different. Being here simply acted as a reminder that you no longer fit into his life.

It came to you in heavy waves. When the overall reality hit, it hit like a sheet of sadness. You were washed over by emotions while Luke carried on about his favorite restaurant in Italy. You had never been to Italy or France or Spain. You had never been on grandiose adventures, not like Luke. It only hurt because you wished you had been by his side.

The two of you swung by his place for a change of clothes. There was an unexplainable silence that you chose not to break. You felt as though any word from your lips would feel forced, so you kept quiet instead. When you walked back out into the living room in an old tee and leggings, Luke was already there. He was already waiting for you in the patchy jean jacket that you treasured simply because it once belonged to him.

“Still fits, I guess,” he said, and you smiled. It was like old times, so you took a picture of the moment. Luke shot a goofy grin your way, and you had to pretend like it didn’t make your stomach flutter.

“Are there are any taco places you know of that are still open?” you asked Luke after settling into the car. You kept your hands pressed between your thighs. “I’m not really feeling like shitting my pants at a Taco Bell.”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, I know a place.” He turned on the ignition, and right off the bat, a song by The Summer Set began to blast through the speakers. And it felt like a tension had been swept away with the music.

He kept the windows down as you drove, his one hand firm on the wheel and the other out against the breeze. When he sang, he sang low. You couldn’t find it in yourself to sing at all. You could hardly look at him. Yet, you had given into temptation. You gazed at him during the verses and glanced away at the choruses, letting the city lights seep in while you listened to his soft voice. Luke drummed on the wheel during the upbeat melodies, and you found yourself reminiscing on old memories no matter how much you wanted to repress them.

He had always been an awkward kid. The heart on his sleeve never faded or splintered–– it just grew with each passing day. His presence made any form of discomfort wash away, and it still felt that way now. But, as people do, he had changed, and you struggled to find the good in everything. Around you, it was the same Luke you knew. Around others, he had built up a façade for himself. It broke your heart.

Street lamps glistened against the pavement as rain drizzled down. It didn’t last long, and the droplets on the windshield soon dried, but it left an earthy petrichor in the air. A comforting scent that only came with rain. The breeze slipped through your fingers, and you soon felt the words of familiar songs bubble in your chest. They left your lips a second later just as you began to smile. There was something oddly beautiful about the melancholy moment.

So, Luke sang loudly, his hands hitting the wheel while you cried your favorite lyrics. It all came rushing back, and the sorrow melted away. You wished Luke had never left, but you were happy to have this night with him.

You unwrapped your taco on your lap. “I’m not gonna tell you you’re wrong for putting that much sour cream on your taco,” you said, kicking your feet out on the stone wall before you, “but you disgust me.”

The waves crashed along the shoreline in the distance, and the beach was dark and eerie. It didn’t matter that it was ten o’clock at night–– the nearby park was busy and loud.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” said Luke, “is it okay if I put sour cream on my taco?”

You kicked his thigh as he broke out in hysterics, and you thought, this is it–– this is what I’ve been waiting for.

“If you get that shit on my jacket, I’ll kill you,” you responded, meanwhile taking an unattractive bite out of the hard shell of your taco. Shredded cheese fell to the ground below.

“Isn’t it technically my jacket?”

You shrugged “Maybe if you had actually bothered keeping it.”

Luke let out a small gasp, and a large dollop of sour cream plopped against the wrapping on his lap. “Maybe if you were smart enough, you’d realize I let you keep it.”

“Oh, shit. That stings.”

“Good.”

“Fuck you,” you said with a laugh. “I deserved to keep it. I was the one who added all of those patches anyway.”

Luke furrowed his brows. “Not true. I added––“ He twisted around and pointed at a small bunny patch on the shoulder. “––this one.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. “You deserve more credit for the tiny bunny patch you found on the side of the road.”

“Thank you.” Luke sighed and grinned, sending a wink your way before biting into his sour cream-coated taco.

You watched the hard-shell crack and fall apart beneath his grip, and you watched as he pouted once the food hit his lap. You stared for too long, burning the image of him in your brain until you were confident it was permanently in there. It burned a little too hot and for a little too long. It continued to burn along the highway while the waves stirred beside you. You were nestled between the hills and the ocean, a cute boy to your left and a strip of heaven laid down before you.

Luke drove for an hour, taking exit after exit until he pulled off near the mouth of a lake in the mountains. The air was stale yet breezy, and exhaustion overwhelmed you. But you kept your eyes from drooping just so you could keep looking at the person you hadn’t realized you missed.

“Come home soon,” you whispered into the dark night. Bugs and other creatures hummed in the distance, meanwhile, you kicked up the crumbled pavement and leaned back against his car. “It hasn’t been home without you.”

Luke let out a quiet laugh, but it was muffled between his lips. “Gonna get all sappy on me now, huh, babe?” he asked, but his smile soon fell when his head turned to face you. He swallowed and faced the stagnant water ahead. “I wanna come home,” he said, “but I feel like I don’t belong there anymore.”

“You’ve always belonged.”

Luke didn’t speak.

“I don’t belong here,” you said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You had expected an outrageous reaction, something that assured you that he thought you did belong. But he stayed quiet. “This whole city, this place, it’s–– I mean it’s wonderful. I love it. But it’s not me.”

“It’s weird to have you here,” said Luke. His voice had lowered into a faint hush, yet you felt it in your bones. “Not bad weird. You’re just home. You feel like home. I’m not used to that here.”

“You’re home,” you mumbled.

Luke didn’t waste another moment. He pulled you into a hug, one that reminded you of teenage years and restless late nights. It reminded you of a warmth you lost, of strong arms that hadn’t held you in seven years. His chest expanded with each breath, and you listened closely to the air as it left his lips. And then you couldn’t help but dig your fingers into the rough denim along his back. You couldn’t help but press yourself against his chest in order to feel his heartbeat in sync with yours. You ached to embrace his scent–– you ached to embrace everything about him.

There was something in the air as you pulled away, something thicker than the hint of humidity. Whatever it was, you had trouble letting go of Luke. It felt like you had stood there for ages, just staring at his chest and holding onto his waist as if your life depended on it. You felt like crying, and you felt nervous. Something about his presence made you nervous.

When you looked up, Luke had already been looking down at you. A small smile was playing on his lips, and you could hardly see the twinkle in his eye through the dark night. But you weren’t focusing on his eyes. You focused in on that smile, the one that stretched his smooth, pink lips just slightly. The one that kindled some spark in your chest, and you couldn’t look away.

Luke placed a hand on your jaw, his long, slim fingers cradling you in a soft manner. “You okay?” he asked breathily.

You replayed his words in your head and thought about the ways his lips moved around them. No, you weren’t okay. But you didn’t mind the feeling.

“Yeah,” you whispered. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. At the same time, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. The desire to kiss him was overwhelming, and it ached and ached. You tightened your grip on his waist, eyes flickering back up to where his lips had pulled into a concerned pout.

Luke let out a breath and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. His fingers were firm on the back of your head, and then he pulled you in. His lips were on yours, hard yet passion-filled, and neither of you could move. But when he ran out of air, Luke pulled away slowly. His top lip brushed yours as he moved, yet the pressure never left. It still felt like he was kissing you.

Luke had kissed you. And you hadn’t wanted him to stop.

You smiled, fingers toying with the opening of his jean jacket as you glanced down at your shoes. “That was new,” you said lowly.

He laughed, meanwhile running his thumb along the apple of your cheek. It made you feel safe. “Sure was,” he mumbled. “Not bad, though.”

“No,” you replied, looking up. His gaze was intense, but it was the kind of intensity that summoned butterflies. You shrugged. “Not bad at all.”

“Good,” said Luke. “Cos I was plannin’ on kissing you again, but I wasn’t sure if we were on the same page, or––“

You tugged him in and leaned forward to press your lips on his again. You felt him smile against the kiss, and you had to smile, too. Luke’s opposite hand met your other cheek as the kiss deepened. You didn’t mind it–– you had no reason to mind it. In fact, you loved it. You craved it. It was warm and soft, and it made your toes curl. His lips felt like velvet. The heat crawled up into your chest, but the kiss soon ended before the moment carried on.

You felt lighter than air. Small puffs of air escaped your lips while you tried to laugh. And Luke was laughing, too. You were each other’s best friend, and you had kissed.

“Wanna keep driving?” Luke asked you, tracing your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

You grinned and nodded before pecking his lips. And then you skipped over to the passenger seat to once again fill the night with new memories to be made.

Luke grabbed your hand and laced your fingers with his while The Summer Set continued to blast throughout his car. It felt good to touch you, to finally feel you after all of these years. For some reason, he craved your touch even more now. It had only been a week, yet Luke quickly realized the effect you had on him. It had never been like this before, and he was relieved to know you felt the same way, too. He couldn’t get enough of you.

He wanted every piece of you.

“Should we head back home?” you asked at around two in the morning, lips red from the 7-Eleven slushie you were slurping.

Luke smiled at your appearance. His heart swelled at the sight of you so comfortable in his company. It made him want to hold you and never let go. “You gettin’ tired, babe?”

You giggled. “Never said that.”

Luke’s face physically ached from the weight of his grin.

“I like it when you call me that,” you said.

“Hm?”

“When you call me ‘babe’,” you spoke. “I like it.”

Luke felt a chill rush over him. He wanted to call you “babe” every single fucking day–– he never wanted to stop. “Yeah, babe?”

You hummed.

Luke’s hand instinctively reached out to place itself on your thigh, and he froze. But you didn’t react. When he looked over, your smile hadn’t left.

“Is this okay?” he asked you, fingers burning and shifting against your leggings. His eyes left the road for a split second to watch you nod. Luke smiled again and squeezed your thigh, emitting a quick squeal from you. The sound was music to his ears, and he couldn’t believe how fast he had fallen for everything about you.

The silence that fell over was comfortable.

“Is this what Brian felt like when he wrote Passenger Seat?” you asked after a while.

Luke glanced at you, smile still wide as he slowly replied, “it’s exactly what he felt.”

He took you down to a small beach off of the beaten path after that. The waves were loud, almost violent as he kept his hand firmly locked with yours. The breeze had picked up, but he could still hear your teeth chattering through the gusts.

“Gosh, sure is nice to have a jacket to keep me warm right now,” said Luke while he set himself down into the sand.

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you muttered, plopping right beside him. “You’re such a fucking j-jackass.”

Luke laughed and took off his jacket, nevertheless. You pulled it over you before falling against him, head nestling onto his shoulder as you brought your knees up for warmth.

“It’s so dark,” you said a few moments later. “Did you come here to murder me?”

“How’d you know?” gasped Luke.

You shoved him away, he only tugged you in closer. You set your head on his lap, and the two of you sat there for thirty minutes in complete silence. He hadn’t wanted to stay quiet–– he had so many things bouncing about in his brain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say a single word. He couldn’t tell you that this week had been the best week of his entire life, and he couldn’t beg you to stay. He couldn’t keep you in a city you hated to be in.

It had hurt to hear you say that, but he didn’t disagree. Los Angeles didn’t fit you; it never would, no matter how much he wanted you to stay with him. You belonged in comforting towns, ones filled with life and love but held hopes and dreams high. You belonged with him, yet he wasn’t sure where he belonged either. It was too painful to think about.

So, Luke kissed your forehead and ran his fingers along your arm. If he could hold you forever, then he wouldn’t have to think about anything else. He wouldn’t have to think about saying goodbye to you within the next week. He wouldn’t have to think about losing all of the built-up feelings that had surfaced within the past few days. He wouldn’t have to think about losing you.

You were curled up in the passenger seat of his car on the ride home. Your eyes had succumbed to exhaustion at the beach, and he carried you all the way back without stirring you awake. It filled his heart with so much love to see you so calm and peaceful–– he wanted to take you home and hold you for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t do that. He buckled you in, kissed your forehead once more, and then drove home in silence. It left him alone with his thoughts, and he didn’t like that.

“Lu?” Your eyes fluttered open as he unbuckled you and prepared to take you into his home.

“Mornin’, darling,” he said, cracking a smile.

You hummed. “You don’t have t’carry me,” you said, “but thank you.” You rubbed at your tired eyes, and he grabbed your hands to help lift you out of the car. You fell against him and pulled him into a tight hug.

He chuckled, but he didn’t say anything. He just held you close.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you mumbled into his shirt. You leaned back to look up at him.

Luke smiled, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He kissed you softly before pulling you back into a hug. “I’ve missed you, too.”

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

On my way home.

Still okay with going to the party?

You:

ya i wanna black out and vomit in a pool

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Please do not do that.

You:

don’t poop on my party

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

It’s technically not your party

You:

party pooper

stinky pooper

ur stinky

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

You’re stinky.

You:

yes

The next day was weird.

It felt like the night prior had been some drug-induced dream filled with romcom storylines inside a coming-of-age film. It was an old memory resurfaced–– a moment you had shared with him many years prior. Things changed so suddenly.

And neither of you spoke of it. You didn’t know how to. At the same time, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

It had been beautiful in the moment, but thinking back, you weren’t sure it had been a good idea. Luke was Luke, a famous rock star living among the elites in Lost Angeles, and you were a shell of a best friend, old remnants of a life he used to live. You weren’t the one for him, and you never had been. He had too many choices before him; he wouldn’t choose his best friend.

A friend was hosting a birthday party, one you assumed would involve a cake and stupid decorations, perhaps presents as well. But the house was packed upon arrival, and it felt more like a frat party than anything. You wished you had known, yet you fisted the skirt of your black dress and ambled in behind Luke, feeling more like a lost puppy than ever.

Because he had always been a people person. He had always loved people.

You lost him at some point in the night. You scoured the premises, searching for his bright red button-down amongst the sea of illustrious eyes. And then there was you, looking sad and somewhat angry while you searched for your best friend. He had done this only a week ago. He had left you to fend for yourself against a pack of B-list wolves. You hardly felt human in comparison.

Sweat had accumulated against your back while you wandered the crowded rooms. You admired the architecture through a Mike’s Hard haze, wishing you had left town when Luke did to maybe make a name for yourself in and amongst the wealthy. The guilt would have eaten you alive; it would have been all at Luke’s expense.

You found him in the kitchen at one point during the night. He stood there with his friends crowded around, a dazzling yet drunken smile etched on his features, and it seemed as though his eyes alone lit the whole room. The knot building in your stomach was uncomfortable. His laugh echoed, and you had to excuse yourself before he could glance your way.

So, you wandered again and retraced your steps, wondering if you would ever know your place in a world this big. It felt like you never would.

You hadn’t gotten black-out drunk, nor did you vomit in a stranger’s pool. Instead, you sat by that pool with your feet plunged into the illuminated water, fingers still cradling the neck of your lemonade while you listened to strangers talk. The bright blue below made you feel sick, so you stared up at the light-polluted sky and hoped for the night to be over soon.

And then there was a tap on your shoulder.

“Jesus Christ–– thought I lost ya for good,” said Luke, voice hoarse and slurred while he slumped down onto the brick beside you. He stuck his feet in the water without rolling up his pants.

“Nope,” you mumbled. “Been here.”

Luke was smiley, and the freckles on his nose seemed more prominent under the teal hue from the pool.

“Where’d you go?” you asked him, yet your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you the way he did. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Uh, y’know.” Luke shrugged. “This, there, n’ that.”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” said Luke, fingers running along the surface of the water before gently splashing your knees. “Wanted t’show my girl around. People kept asking ‘bout you.”

“Your–– your girl?” The words rattled around in your brain, but at the moment, they didn’t settle quite right. They would have sounded wonderful the night prior. But you weren’t property. You weren’t his girl.

Luke glanced at you, eyes shiny and dark, and his lips tugged into a lazy smile. He smelled of whiskey sour and bourbon, a combination that made your stomach churn. You admitted his proximity intimidated you, and you admitted that you wanted nothing more than to go back to last night.

Suddenly, Luke was leaning in to kiss you, and all you could do was push him back. It had been sloppy and wet. It had been wrong.

You couldn’t speak.

“Sorry?” he asked. His eyebrows scrunched together.

You stood quickly, reaching down to fix your dress before you walked off. Luke was hot on your tail.

“I thought you were cool with that!” he exclaimed as he stomped through the grass behind you. A few strangers turned their heads, so you faced him and kept him close. “Did last night mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “Last night meant everything to me. But last night means nothing now. It has to mean nothing now.”

Luke laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Us, Luke,” you said, holding out your arms. “We’ve been best friends for like, ten years, and suddenly that changes in one night. Maybe if we were on similar paths, it would actually work. But it doesn’t work, Luke. It just doesn’t. Not for us.”

His face relaxed, and his lips pulled into a frown. “Not for us?” he whispered. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re you,” you said, “and I’m me. We live on two different parts of the world, and we still don’t know where we belong. It’s not the right time–– if there’s even a right time at all.” You hugged your bare arms as a light breeze blew over.

“Who fucking cares?”

“I care,” you replied.

Luke let out an exasperated sigh. “Fucking hell,” he mumbled, laughing lightly. “Why do you have t’care? Just say fuck it. Do what you fuckin’ want.”

“No, Luke, I can’t just do that––“

“God, you’re being so annoying.”

You blinked. “I’m–– what?”

Luke blanched and swallowed. “Nothing.”

“I’m being so annoying?” you asked with a smirk. “Oh, wow. Okay. Sorry. I guess I’ll stop being so annoying then.”

“No,” said Luke. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You can’t take it back.”

“Please.” His eyes widened, and his sincerity radiated off of him. “I didn’t––“

“What did you mean?”

“What?”

You sighed. Your stomach hurt, and you wanted to just go home. “If you didn’t mean it, then what did you mean?”

Luke shrugged. “Just think you’re being kinda unreasonable.”

“What?” you questioned. “Because I don’t like it here?”

“Because you’re not open to trying!” yelled Luke.

His raised voice made your heart stop. It made every built-up emotion ache to release in an instant. But you wouldn’t let yourself cry. “I want to try,” you said weakly. “I wanna try so badly. But I wanna be happy, Lu.”

He folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m happy with you,” you continued. “But I’m not gonna be happy here. As much as I like being with you, it’s not gonna cancel any of that out.”

Luke didn’t reply. He stared at you, eyes glazed and emotionless.

“I’m gonna go home,” you said.

“Okay.”

You nodded. “I mean, home home.”

Luke’s eyes filled with another unreadable emotion. “Why?”

You sighed again, but this time, you felt annoyed as well. You felt like every feeling from the night prior had dripped from your shoulders. You felt like it had all gone down the drain. “I don’t belong here,” you said.

“Yes, you fucking do!”

“I’m going home,” you repeated, this time harsher as your eyes brimmed with tears.

Luke’s composure fell. There was silence for a moment, and then he nodded. He nodded twice. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Okay.”

Luke had been peeling the skin from around his nails.

The two days following the party had been spent in heavy tension. It took every ounce of him to not bring it up–– he wanted to talk about everything he had said, yet the more time that passed, the more he forgot. But he remembered every change in your expression, and his stomach churned at the thought of him upsetting you the way he did. He wanted to take it all back.

You didn’t mention it either. You packed up your belongings quietly, and he didn’t bother you. He didn’t bother exhausting you over words that meant little in the grand scheme of things. Because as much as he wanted you to stay, he knew that you had no choice. In a perfect world, he could drop everything for you. In a perfect world, he could settle down and be with you for the rest of his life. Nobody made decisions in the span of a week, but he wished he could.

He saw you. He didn’t want to see anyone else.

Luke drank his coffee cold on your last day. It stained his white shirt, yet he kept his feet planted against the tiles in his kitchen. He didn’t go change because you were back in the guest room, and he knew that his chest would hurt the sight of you. He knew he would try to say things to make you stay. He knew that they would fail.

He heard the wheels of your suitcase before he saw you. And then you were there, jean jacket draped over your arm while you waited for him to speak up. Luke didn’t know how to talk anymore. He only felt dejection.

“My flight leaves in four hours,” you said, grip tightening around the handle of your suitcase.

Luke nodded. He wanted to believe you were sad, too. He wanted to believe you still thought about that night only days ago.

“I can call a cab,” you continued with a shrug. A light-hearted shrug that felt out-of-place.

He shook his head. “I’ll take you,” he said, but his voice was weak.

“Okay.”

And the familiar silence clicked back into place. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It hadn’t felt like this before. Leaving you at sixteen was full of smiles and “see-you-soon”’s. But with you leaving now, it felt like you were leaving for good.

Luke nodded again. “Okay.”

The ride to the airport was quiet. It was a sickening quiet, one that brought on the urge to cry and scream. He wanted to yell at himself for being so fucking ridiculous. His fingers tensed against the steering wheel.

When Luke parked the car, the words “I’m sorry” tumbled from his lips.

You glanced over. “What for?”

A part of him wanted to laugh. You knew the exact reasons why he felt sorry.

But he just shrugged. “For throwing you into my life,” he said. “It was selfish of me. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel.”

“You didn’t mean it like that,” you replied. “I know you didn’t. You were just showing me your life.”

“But it was too much.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You gave Luke a small, sad smile before reaching over and grabbing his hand. You intertwined your fingers with his.

“If it’s okay,” you said, “I’d still like to be a part of your life.”

Luke smiled, too. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “It’s always okay.”

You felt sick.

You held Luke’s hand on your way into the airport, and you dreaded letting go. You dreaded the idea of possibly never feeling his touch again. You weren’t saying goodbye for good, but it felt like you were.

“Here’s where I leave you,” he mumbled, voice breaking at the last few words, and his grip on your hand loosened.

You refused to let him go. When you turned around, Luke’s façade had chipped. His eyes welled with tears, and soon enough, yours had, too. You pushed yourself against him in a tight embrace, arms meeting around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. The tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them.

You wondered why it was so hard. You wondered why it hurt so much.

You held him for as long as you could before losing your balance. Yet, when you pulled away, you didn’t let go of him. You stood on your toes to brush your nose against his.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, clutching the collar of his shirt as you pressed your lips to his through tear slicked cheeks.

Luke held you closer, and this time, he didn’t let you pull away. His lips were warm and wet, but it was perfect. Everything about him was perfect. It hurt so much. You wanted to kiss him forever.

When all air ceased, Luke rested his forehead against yours, and you could feel his own tears falling against your skin. His breath was hot on your lips. And then you pulled him in again, teeth clashing in a hard yet heartbreaking kiss. You didn’t care–– you just needed to feel his lips again.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled.

Your arms weakened around his shoulders, hands soon resting on his chest as you began to move away. It hurt to smile, but you did it anyway. “Gonna miss you, Squid,” you said, and your eyes watered once more.

Luke sniffed, and as your hand cupped his cheek, he leaned into you. He let out a breath. “Gonna miss you, too,” he said.

Your hand fell back to your side. “Well,” you said, swallowing down the tears that threatened to spill. You shot him another smile. “I’ll let you know when I land.”

He nodded. “Yeah, um––“ He scratched the back of his head. “Thank you.”

So, you nodded, too. “See you soon, String Bean.”

And finally, Luke smiled, too.

You gathered your belongings and slowly made your way to the security line, stomach twisting as your thoughts invaded. You couldn’t shake the negative feelings away. Every glance over your shoulder reminded you that you didn’t want to say goodbye. Every step felt erroneous. You looked back at Luke.

He waved at you, and your chest caved in.

It was wrong. Everything was wrong.

Your eyes scanned the line and the many travelers waiting with their tickets in hand. You looked at the agents who seemed less than pleased to be there that day. And finally, you locked your gaze back on Luke again, and your heart tugged.

It was wrong.

So, you left the line and walked back over to him, and he watched you the entire time.

“I’m sure there’s a later flight,” you sputtered out, heart pounding in your chest while a grin spread on his cheeks. You smiled in return.

“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “I’m sure there is.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck again and kissed him until your head spun. It finally felt so right.

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