#Maybe New Yorker? Idk

[bet-on-me-13]

Lady Gotham raises Danny as a single mother

Danny gets de-aged and Clockwork sends him to live with his Daughter, Lady Gotham.

You would expect Lady Gotham to look very Gothic. Like a noble lady from the 1600′s or a ghostly woman in a large veil. Maybe even just a mass of writhing shadows?

But no, Lady Gotham looks like your stereotypical Single Mother at all times, cause she always has to keep her Bat-Kids safe like the rambunctious children they are, and it’s a 24/7 job

She basically has the house-mom look, frizzy hair tied up in a ponytail, a stained apron from making dinner, always looks tired but always has time to indulge her kids games, all that

After she takes in Danny, she decides to create herself a Civilain Identity so she can raise him as both a Human and as a Ghost. And raising the future High King has it's side effects, for example he is constantly producing excess Ectoplasm which empowers her enough to maintain a Corporeal form for much longer than she could before.

Now she can just live in her City, and actually Interact with her citizens like she never could before!

She starts helping out more, dispelling some of the more Nasty curses placed on her City and making people feel more safe than before.

She gives packed lunches to homeless kids, every day without fail, and they are always filled with that kids favorite snacks alongskde some healthy foods. None of her children are going to go hungry on her watch!

She donates to the local homeless shelters, and gives them some Good Luck charms so they experience less problems. She needs to teach her kids good morals after all!

She starts a Rooftop Garden on her apartment Building, handing out the produce to anybody who asks to borrow some. Somehow she never runs out no matter how much they ask for. It's good manners to treat your neighbors with respect! A cup of sugar and all that!

She embodies the "Neighboorhood Mom" stereotype perfectly, just across the entire city instead.

And the Batfam don't even notice for a few months! She isn't doing anything big, just being a good Samaritan, and a good mom.

Then, one day, Red Hood shows up and tells everybody that he was kidnapped by a Lady who kept saying stuff like "We need to get that dirty ecto sorted out, we are long overdue for a check up!"

And now he feels perfectly fine. No more green vision, no more violent tendencies, he's just not as angry about that anymore.

Now the Batfam are trying to find thus lady, but it's kind of hard since all Jason could give for a description is "She looked like a Stereotypical Single Mom. That's all I can remember about her appearance."

[blueberryblogger]

look, i love Unsleeping City but i cannot & will never be able to get behind NYC as the 'best fuckin city in the world'

haven't you guys been to Sydney? Cairns? London? Dublin? Tokyo? Seoul? Lagos? Rome? Literally any other city?

[classicpolaroidsyoulike]

.

[kittyhazelnut]

fic talk in the tags don't mind me

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I don't think non-New Yorkers know how funny Miles and Wiles having Jordans is.

Like it's REALLY funny and really Brooklyn - New York of him.

Miles, Wiles, and Jordan Sneakers - Clever Cultural Characterisation

[A MEDIUM length post were I talk about Brooklyn Sneaker Culture and it's use in ATSV]

Have you ever wondered -

Why is Miles the only one wearing branded clothing?

When all other brands are either spoofed or replaced, why is Miles - the main character wearing such VERY BLATANTLY branded sneakers?

And why is Nike, a random shoe brand, the choice to go with?

There's a reason the creators show Miles' creativity and personality through his shoes.

And it's because

JORDANS HAVE A CHOKEHOLD - on Black Guys in High School from NYC

And this might be bizarre to some and idk if it translates to other black communities- (please tell me if it does)

But here in Brooklyn, almost every masc guy in my high school was OBSESSED with Jordans. Most guys I knew can name certain releases by looking at them, and had multiple pairs in different colors

JORDANS WERE LIKE SOCIAL CURRENCY - from middle school all the way to college. And it's a very cultural thing here in Brooklyn.

What colors you had and how many are something you bragged about. Many guys own multiple different colorways of Jordan's and will WAIT in line hours for a new release.

There's a store call Flight Club here in the city, and sometimes you'll see the line going out the door, of well dressed black guys waiting for the new release of Nikes to start going on sale.

Of course Adidas is popular, but no where near the culture hold as Nike to us.

I remember begging my parents for like a week until they brought me Black Air Force 1s

And I STILL have them over ten years later. They're too small, but they're holding up well. And even until this day, my home town is lined with sneaker stores. There's one around the corner from me rn.

Here it really is natural for guys LOVE JORDANS and to use them as a form of self expression. It's not odd for Fashion is on the minds of black guys in Brooklyn.

Even in high school, guys were matching their outfits and always trying to get the latest brand name. Mind you, this is an inner-city school full of 98% low income black kids. For us that was a social language.

Some shoes even have their own 'personalities' tied to them:

For example:

Black Air Force 1s (the one above) are often called 'hit a lick' shoes. Hitting a lick means to rob someone. So there's this idea that if you have those on you about that action lol it's an chill inside joke though it isn't serious.

White Air Forces are seen for guys who DON'T do that because they're too worried about getting their white ass shoes so clean.

Keep the above in mind for the next part

Hair cuts - like shape-ups and fades, Backpacks, and Shoes are three big things that were a fashion influence in my high school HARD.

Trends also are a big thing here, and they come on really quickly. I remember for maybe four years a brand called Sprayground got big, and after all SO many high school kids started collecting these $80 bags in all different colors. I wanted one so bad.

A lot of them had illustrations of things like money or weed.

If you see a mfer with the shark mouth bookbag RUN he's the biggest fuckboy you've ever met.

Which is to say - !42 WOULD HAVE ONE OF THESE BAGS

Guys get SO INTO THEM

How many of the iconic orange boxes that you lined up in your room (yes they keep them) was something you boasted about.

MFers would deadass have this in the corner of their room and bring you over talking about sum 'it's decor' SIR IT'S A HOARDING ADDICTION

They'll walk different, and NEVER squat, because doing that might crease the leather along the toe box. And creased Jordans are not fresh so what's the point - they're ruined. A guy in my class use to being plastic bags and tie them around his ankles when it rained then he walked home.

Like look at this Reddit post I found -

'is he stupid' 😭😭that's so mean but like here EVERY guy just assumes you know not to do that to Jordans ever

And that's why the creators do it - AND THEY DO IT WELL

And it's so impressive their deep understanding of this very specific thing that happens in mostly black high schools in NYC.

Cause that's not something you can just search up and research really.

Because of our culture - Miles & Miles!42's shoes are a silent language in their own right.

Like Miles!42's shoes are one of the first things we see about him.

They're the first thing we're suppose to notice - because it let's is compare him to Miles.

Miles' Jordans are iconic - the white and red shoes.

They're clean and white, with pops of color and personality. Like Miles, he's about being the good of Spider-man, while also getting himself and adding his own colors to it.

And because it's natural to the character and the culture, they let his shoes be the signal that Wiles is not like Miles. He has a different style, in fighting, in speaking, in personality, from his hair literally down to his shoes.

REMEMBER HOW I TALKED ABOUT SHOES HAVING PERSONALITY AND THE BLACK AIR FORCES ??????

Wiles' shoes are VERY similar to Black Air Force 1s. It's basically that with utility bags and purple detailing.

That's a signal - like I said: WILES IS ABOUT THAT ACTION. He's here to get his lick back.

From his standpoint, as a black guy from Brooklyn with his personality, he would know about this culture. He'd know the message black Nikes send where he's from.

It'd be natural for him - Hell yeah he'd go for the black Jordans.

He's speaking his social language.

Wiles' doesn't have to say 'fuck around and find out' he got on Air Forces with bags on them - HE'S ABOUT IT.

The writers didn't wake up one day and say 'Oh Nike wants a brand deal?! Okay cool'.

They don't show Wiles' shoes to be like 'LOOKY BUY THE NICE SHOES' - We are shown this shot

For them to be like : This is who Miles!42 is.

Because of sneakers.

Isn't that COOL? ISN'T IT. ISN'T IT COOL THE SOCIAL DYNAMICS OF INNER CITY BLACK KIDS IN NEW YORK??

But it's really funny to me to see Wiles shoes and be like 'damn he bout to fuck Miles up'.

THE IDEA OF THEM FEIGNING OVER JORDANS Fyyofydyogoc

Do guys where you are do this?? Like is this a thing y'all know any Sneakerheads.

Anyway I would put a pic of Hobie but I'm on mobile so they won't let me and I'm lazy

Bye.

[ahonice]

not my boyfriend

luke hughes x fem reader

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

and you were correct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you were the player staring at me earlier.”

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

“can’t drink on the job?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke sighed before walking back over to his group.

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

“shut up jack.”

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

“luke.”

“y/n.”

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

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

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

“without a doubt.” 

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

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

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

“got it, thank you brian.”

you looked back to see luke staring at you confused.

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

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

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

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

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

“did you fuck up again?” 

“yes…? i honestly don’t know.”

+++

it had been two weeks since that night.

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

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

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

“got it dad, i’ll go get ready.”

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m about to leave without you y/n.”

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he wants your number.” she whispered.

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

+++

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

y/n?

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

this is luke. 

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

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

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

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

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

lovely.

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

i’m totally kidding.

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

this is y/n lmao.

from: luke hughes

that is not funny.

+++

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

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

from: luke hughes

why do you wear blank jerseys?

from: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

that’s just not something i’m into.

to: luke hughes

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

that wasn’t entirely true. 

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

“brian focus.” 

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

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

to: luke hughes

are you stalking me?

to: luke hughes

because i will get a restraining order against you.

to: luke hughes

i don’t care how attractive you are.

from: luke hughes

so you think i’m attractive?

to: luke hughes

is that seriously all you got from that??

to: luke hughes

STOP BOTHERING MY COWORKERS !!!

from: luke hughes

will do.

from: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

fine.

to: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

yeah totally “only because”…

+++

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

“yes dad.” you deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

+++

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

also my dad wants to meet you.

to: luke hughes

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll meet you halfway.”

+++

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

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

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

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

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

+++

the night went very well.

you and luke talked about anything and everything. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to: luke hughes

*image*

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

from: luke hughes

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

+++

from: luke hughes

i’m bored.

to: luke hughes

what am i supposed to do about that?

from: luke hughes

😑😑😑

to: luke hughes

I’M KIDDING

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

unless you are now above frat parties after finishing school.

from: luke hughes

i’d love to join you.

to: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

yea sure. what should i wear?

to: luke hughes

oh nothing too fancy just a tuxedo.

to: luke hughes

bowtie included.

from: luke hughes

i hate you.

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

from: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

just come inside, front door is unlocked. 

to: luke hughes

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

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

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

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

“no fucking way-”

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

it was an important question. 

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

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

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

“WHAT?”

“you’ve never heard of it?”

“what fucking school did you go to?”

“y/n get him out of my face.”

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

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

+++

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

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

+++

from: luke hughes

are you coming to the game tonight?

from: luke hughes

i have a proposition for you, if you are.

to: luke hughes

i’m listening

from: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

it’s a win-win situation

to: luke hughes

yea for you. i get nothing out of it.

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

fine.

from: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

not if, when.

to: luke hughes

i’ll see you tonight weirdo.

+++

“your boyfriend is waving at you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah, but luke’s your boyfriend.”

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll think about it.”

+++

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

tonight you were excited. 

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

from: luke hughes

you coming tonight?

to: luke hughes

yeah.

to: luke hughes

so are trinity, bass, tyler, and cal.

from: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

just bring a jersey to change into after the game.

from: luke hughes

oh crap i don’t own any jerseys.

to: luke hughes

you’re hilarious bud.

to: luke hughes

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

+++

“no fucking way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

“oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

“oh god you haven’t lost it yet?”

+++

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

12345 house street

to: luke hughes

i hope to see you there.

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

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

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

“i do-”

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

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

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

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

+++

from: luke hughes

not really in the mood for a party tonight. 

to: luke hughes

oh ok. 

to: luke hughes

well i’ll see you soon, yeah?

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

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

“ok i seriously need a drink now.” 

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sebastian aho’s. why?”

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

+++

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

i would like to talk to you.

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

“why don’t you tell him yourself.”

+++

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please come back up. 

to: luke hughes

no.

from: luke hughes

please. let's talk about this.

to: luke hughes

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

to: luke hughes

it’s my turn to be upset now.

+++

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

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

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

from: luke hughes

y/n i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please talk to me.

from: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

please text me when you get back.

from: luke hughes

i need to see you.

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

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

to: luke hughes

i’m back in newark.

from: luke hughes

on my way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“luke what was that-”

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

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

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

“deal.”

+++

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

“coming dad.” 

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

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

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

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

from: luke hughes

are we still on for after the game? 

to: luke hughes

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

from: luke hughes

👍

+++

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

“wow the new car is dope y/n.” 

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

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

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

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

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

+++

a few minutes later you pulled into a qdoba. 

“wow you know me so well hughes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

[somewhereincairparavel]

What would the HOO boys wear? -Fashion analysis (Percy, Jason and Leo)

PERCY JACKSON- the living embodiment of the skater boy aesthetic. Hes obsessed with Blue and white clothing tbh, I feel like Percy's not a fan of jackets of any kind. He loves hoodies, and oversized half sleeved shirts. He loves jeans of any kind, but is high on denim shorts. Annabeth also influenced him into loving caps ;) he's also like a huge fan of shirts that say "New York". Hes a proud New Yorker y'all. Loves tennis shoes, blue ones to be more specific. Overall very chill and casual style.

JASON GRACE- Jason is canonically very put together and neat, he hates being under dressed,maybe it's the Roman in him, idk. I feel like he'd be the living embodiment of the "clean girl" aesthetic but make it clean boy lol. Has this weird obsession with oversized full/half sleeved striped shirts. So you can expect stripes to take up half his closet, his colour palette is purple, light blue and white. He also has this weird thing where he only likes wearing light blue jeans because, according to him, it matches his eyes. It's true though, light blue jeans just make his eyes pop and it looks SO good. Likes soft hoodies, and contrary to Percy, Jason loves jackets. Jason, also loves gold jewellery, paired up with his purple clothing, it reminds him of his camp Jupiter attire. Overall he's very elegant and neat tbh.

LEO VALDEZ- ah yes, Leo's fashion is probably the most childlike and authentic. He LOVES overalls sm, and is a sucker for clothing with corny quotes on them. Leo intentionally wears white shirts a lot despite knowing that it would get dirty, so half his white shirts would be covered in black grease, but he loves wearing them anyway. Leo, in my opinion, is not a huge fan of blue denim, he prefers cream or brown hue jeans more. Leo also loves checkered/striped baggy pants, but it makes him look even shorter than he actually looks lmao 😭

tumblr isn't letting me insert more images smh, so Nico, Frank and Will are in the next part

[lilislegacy]

I actually have my own little head cannons about percy and annabeth's own family, and I'm gonna share them for no reason other than being annoying <3

Percy and Annabeth have lived in unstable homes throughout their childhood; I truly believe that they got married in their early twenties after college

Annabeth hyphenated her last name! She becomes "Annabeth Chase-Jackson" because she loves the Jacksons and is a part of their family while also keeping her last name because she's THE Annabeth chase and it's iconic

I think that they always wanted kids together, but it was always a thought for the future, even when they got married and were busy with their careers

So yes, their first kid was a total surprise, but a very happy one

They were the first of the hoo group to have a kid

Their first kid's a boy (ik unpopular opinion), with blonde hair and green eyes.

I always imagined they'd named their kids something both unique and greek, with maybe a middle name after a lost hero? Giving the first name of a lost hero sounds painful, and also defeats the whole purpose of Sally naming Percy after the only greek hero with a happy ending. An example I like is Amycus Charlie Jackson. idk tho, something more normal makes sense too.

Amycus would probably be a stereotypical angel first child tbh

Because they had their first kid so early on, I think their second would be a couple years later, I think around 4.

They'd have a girl next, Daphne Zoe Jackson, with Percy's raven hair and Annabeth's gray eyes. She'd be a little more troublesome lol, but in a loving way!

I honestly think 2 kids are good enough but my heart says they'd have 3. He'd be a surprise baby, and on the younger end of the hoo group's kids (if not the youngest). I haven't thought of much characterization for him yet, but he'd get Sally's blue eyes for sure.

And they live a great life in New York, I'm sorry but they aren't moving to New Rome! Especially Percy, he's a New Yorker through and through

Annabeth works from home from time to time as an architect, mostly to spend more time with her kids, especially when they're babies.

Percy has a pretty chill job doing something in marine biology or marine vet, so he's there for the kids plenty too

Sally babysits the few times both of them are busy

Ya that's their perfect domestic life in my head hehehe >:)

thanks for the ask @littlesillyfilly!

i love all of these!!! super cute! i shall go through each one

1. same! some people think they don’t get married, but i hate the reasons why most people think that. as demigods, percy and annabeth didn’t grow up in a stable family setting. i think they would want that stability, and to do normal stereotypical couple things, because they crave as much normalcy as they can get.

2. another vote for the hyphenated name! that seems to be people’s favorite option

3. yes absolutely. they always have wanted kids. it’s not even a question in my mind

4. i agree, for some reason i’ve always had the hc that their first kid is either a total shock, or it takes a really really long time for them get pregnant. it’s one or the other 😂

5. completed agreed. honestly? i dont even know if many of their friends would have kids. i mean, frank and hazel, together or not, probably would i think, albeit much later than percy and annabeth. but i don’t know if i see anyone else having kids. i think its not super common amongst demigods, especially greek ones

6. absolutely 1000% agreed. i have always thought and said that their first is a boy with curly blonde hair and sea green eyes.

7. agreed! i like them doing a mix of things when it comes to names. and this is so funny because i always have liked the name charlie (after beckendorf) for one of their kids! it’s in my percabeth baby names list LOL. so i think i like their second son being named charlie, and then i have a girl name for their daughter that i love.

8. oh absolutely. first babies seem to always be so precious and sweet and easy. that’s how they get you. then the second one comes and all hell breaks loose

9. i agree that their second kid would come a few years later. they would need a hot minute to adjust. having kids as a demigod would be hard i think, but once they get the hang of it, they want more!

10. i absolutely agree that their next kid has percy’s black hair and annabeth’s grey eyes! personally, i always imagined it being another boy though. he is their charlie in my mind.

11. yeah, i think they would originally plan on 2 kids, but end up having three (if not 4🤭). and in my mind, number 3 is their girl! i’ve always imagined her with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes with a bit of green in them.

12. you are team percabeth living in new york? ok ok i like it. idk personally i feel like they would start out in new rome, for safety reasons. also having a community of demigod friends and family would probably be very comforting for them. but i definitely see them ending up in new york again! percy is absolutely a new yorker through and through!

13. aww annabeth being able to work sometimes at home would be cute. i can see that!

14. can i just say im so glad people are getting on board with percy becoming an aquatic/marine vet?? i’ve always been so alone in that thought, so seeing other people like it and agree with it makes me so happy!! he’d be sooo good at it! but yes, it’s a chill job so he can be around for the kids a lot.

15. sally and paul would love babysitting. 100%

i loved all of these so much and agree with nearly everything!! thank you for these!!

[haileybeehappy]

Between The Pages

Harry Styles AU

Summary : You are a temp that gets a job as a personal assistant for a semi-reclusive author named Harry Styles. While his regular assistant gives birth and going on maternity leave.

Word Count : 3k

Warnings : I have no idea what being a temp is like so im winging it, older harry, idk, just the starter chapter

Series Masterlist

Being a temp was not where you thought you would be at twenty three years old but here you were in a small office that smelled of copier toner and stale coffee. In an office chair with springs that dug into the backs of your thighs and a cubical neighbor who hummed the most annoying songs very out of tune. So when an email comes across your laptop for a personal assistant position for six weeks you apply immediately. You daydream of getting coffees for fashion designers and picking up celebrities dry cleaning.

So when you get a call to come in for an interview for a semi reclusive writer who was going to need an assistant while his went on maternity leave. Your dreams were a bit crushed, but you went anyways. Anything has to be better than this busy work hell. The interview is at some big office building packed full of important people.

You pulled down the skirt you were wearing to conceal your knees. Feeling cold in the A/C pumped white walled room. The walls lined with old chairs, the fabric sagging and wrinkled. Ancient faded magazines sat on dented coffee tables. The door connected to the room opens and out steps a very pregnant woman. Your name falling from her mouth. You stand and she motions for you to follow.

“So I’m going to be honest,” she says nervously. “You are the only one that has responded to the application that is qualified for it and I don’t have much time,” she tells you as you follow her waddling form down the hallway. “The job is yours if you want it,” she pauses and looks down the left and right sides of the hallways. Contemplating for an second before going right. “We can up it 200 more a week on salary,” she then stops at a door and opens it. You trail her and sit down at a table that is stacked with papers. You sit for a moment and the two of you look at each other. “So?” She asks. Slightly out of breath.

“Oh um,” you ramble. “Do I have to answer now?”

“No but if you do,” she pauses and looks down. Taking a deep breath. “We can do fifteen hundred a week on salary,” she then lets out a small groan and covers it with a cough. “I know it’s a big waving glowing red flag to hire on the spot but not much I can do from here,” her hands grasping at the handles of her chair. The skin on her knuckles stretched white.

“That’s a lot more than advertised,” is all you can think to say.

“Yeah well circumstances have changed and you would need to start tomorrow, maybe today?” She then slowly stands up. Your eyes snap open as she begins to breath heavily.

“Are you in labor?” You pop to a standing position and dash to her side. She shakes her head, pauses then shrugs.

“I don’t know I’ve never been in labor,” she groans. “And I can’t be in labor because I’m not due for another,” a scream like noise escapes her lips as she grasps onto your arm. “Two weeks. And I still have to train youuuu..” her words stretch out to a wail.

“Okay, okay, okay, well I think you are most definitely in labor. We are gonna get you to the hospital and then we can worry about this job stuff okay?” You speak calmly and she nods her head along with your words. The two of you make your way down the lobby passing many New Yorkers who don’t even then to look at the woman groaning and borderline screaming. You hail a cab and clamber into the germ infested back seat. Your hand used as her squeeze toy, your fingers pinched blue and purple and loosing feeling at the ends. “You got this,” we got this, you think. As the cab comes to a stop in front of a hospital you get out and she’s on the phone. Quickly giving you instructions and tasks and rules and people and numbers and emails and everything. Not catching all the information between the contractions. The cab driver seemingly unfazed as you tuck thirty dollars into his hand.

“And I will email you all this stuff once this is over, if it’s ever over,” she groans as she lays in the hospital bed. You are awaiting the arrival of her husband, not wanting to leave her alone. Even if she’s a stranger. “And it’s, it’s a lot. But you can do it. Hell you’re helping me through this. Which you will be paid for,” she laughs. “He is really a nice guy. Just. A little reclusive. He leaves his building, he just doesn’t leave the block. He goes to the Chinese food place and corner store on his block. And occasionally the hot dog stand on the other side of the street. But he needs help with the other stuff. Picking up dry cleaning. Running copies to the office and things like that,” she lets out quickly in two long breaths.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you nod your head. Her hands squeezing yours.

“And if you need anything. Text me. Call me. Um, i probably won’t be getting much sleep anyways,” she chuckles. You nod. “And, and, um, I need you to bring him that envelope in my bag once my husband gets here. He needs that today!” She yells out. And as she lets out a scream the door bursts open and in comes a tall man, long hair tied back into a pony tail.

“Sarah oh my god I’m so sorry,” he rushes to her side. “Baby, I promise I was as fast I could,” she grasps onto him as he comes close enough. You take a step back and wait while they hold each other for a moment. She then turns to you and points the the envelope.

“Take that to the address for Harry Styles, that’s who you will be assisting. I guess you should know that,” she smiles. “It’s in the email I sent you. He knows your coming. Take then red key ring from my bag. Those are for the building and the door. I think that’s it for now. I will call you in the morning okay?” She asks. You nod. You turn and grab the envelope before looking back at her and speak.

“Good luck,” she smiles at you.

“Thank you,” and you turn and leave. You take a long breath and stand for a moment. Processing as much of the information that you can remember. Then scrolling through your phone and find the address for Mr. Styles building. Once you find it in the Email you travel back to the lobby and hail a cab. You fidget with the envelope the entire ride. You pay the fare with the card sara gave you right before you left the hospital room, the name ‘H Styles’ written in gold letters across the black card. You hop out the cab and slowly make your way to the door. Sifting through keys as you go to open the lock. Finally finding the key it clicks open the door. Once on the elevator you take it to the top floor, it opens to a hallway and you step out with uneven footsteps. Nerves flooding your veins. No ideas how this is going to go. You have the key to open the door but you don’t know if you should use it. So you stand there a second, thinking. You raise your hand and knock three times. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Four Mississippi. Five Mississippi. Then a tumble and a crash. Footsteps towards the door. A lock slides and the door opens.

“Hello,” an accented voice speaks as the man comes into view.

“Hey,” you introduce yourself and hold out the envelope. “Sarah said that you needed this today and um so yeah,” you say as you wave around the yellow paper.

“Thank you,” he smiles as he takes the envelope from your hand. “Come in, come in,” he opens the door and moves out of the way so you could come into the apartment. You nod awkwardly and shuffle past him, “I’m Harry it’s nice to meet you,” his hand reaches out to shake yours. His hand grips around yours, large fingers cover your smaller ones. Rings cold against your skin, tattoos speckled on his hands and for arms as far as you can see.

“Nice to meet you,” an uncomfortable smile on your face.

“How is Sarah doing?” He asks as he walks further into his apartment. You follow meekly behind him.

“As okay as she can be I guess,” you shrug. “She’s gonna call me in the morning to talk more,” another awkward shrug. You don’t know what to do with your body. Your arms curled towards yourself oddly. Shifting on your feet back and forth.

“Good, good, would you like some tea? Coffee? Water?” He asks while he floats through his kitchen. You shake your head.

“No thanks I’m okay,” he looks at you blankly, thinking for a second.

“Well Sarah said that she had some stuff to give you if you could wait here just a minute,” he then disappears into the hallways behind him. You stand awkwardly and wait. Something brushes against your leg and you let out a yelp. Looking down there was a small orange cat.

“Oh hey,” you whisper down to the small feline. “You scared me little one,” you said as you reached down to let him smell you. Your hands running through his fur as he purred at you. Harry came around the corner with a large binder amount other books and papers.

“Hey honey,” you look at him, eyebrow crooked. “The cat,” he smirks at you. You nod. A smile playing at your lips. Cute.

“Hey honey,” you whimper to the cat as he rubs against your leg. “How are you? Huh?” He continues to purr while rubbing against your leg.

“He’s a grumpy old man,” Harry says dropping the large pile of papers on the counter before lowering himself to the ground and scooping Honey onto his folded legs. “Sixteen years old,” his large frame wraps around the cat like a shield as he babbles to the cat. His curly hair is lightly speckled with grays, his green eyes sparkle as he talks to the cat. Fingers scratching under his chin. “My little old man, so stink huh? Such a stink man huh?” he talks the the cat. You feel as if you’re invading their space.

“So I’m gonna take these then?” You ask as you bring yourself back to your feet. Plopping your hand on top of the stack. “What do I do with them?”

“Read them,” he looks up at you. “I’m honestly not all sure what’s all in there. That’s just what she’s been gathering up these last few weeks?” His hands still petting Honey. He looks so meek and small curled up on the floor with the large orange cat.

“Oh..” the stack seems to grow. “I guess I should get on that,” you slip your fingers under the stack before trying to lift up the papers but they are too heavy. “Oh shit,” you gasp as you fling the binders and papers and books over the edge. He is up and standing. Hands overtop yours and brings it back up to the counter.

“Let me get some bags,” he whispers into your ear as he catches you. You just nod.

“Oh. Okay,” you freeze. His disconnect from your frame sends goosebumps over your arms. Feeling cold without his contact. He walks back into the area he got the books from. You suspect it’s the hall that leads to the bedrooms of the very spacious apartment. When you heard reclusive writer you were expecting an much older man who had books stacked to the ceiling and smelled of coffee and whiskey. Not an attractive British man who baby talks to his cat. Your eyes skim the kitchen and the small sitting room attached. Picture frames covered the walls of the apartment. All the frames different shades of gold, brown and random accents of color. The photos in them range from people to places and animals. Quite a few pictures of the beautiful orange cat that has now perched himself on the counter next you and is purring as your hands mindlessly scratch at his head.

“I’ll help you carry them down yeah?” He asks, startling you. A squeak like noise leaves your throat. Your hand flying over your chest. Like you’re trying to capture the heart that seems to be beating out of your chest. “Sorry love,” he smiles. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” you shake you’re head in response.

“It’s okay I just scare easy,” you reach to grab the two reusable bags from him. “And I can carry them it’s okay,” he shrugs.

“I have to go down to get some new pens from the corner store so it’s okay,” you shrug.

“I guess I won’t fight you on it,” a light smile etched onto your features.

“You wouldn’t have won anyways,” he then guides you out of the apartment. You opening doors for him and pressing elevator buttons as he holds the two very heavy bags. For you they would have been anyways. But he carry’s them with ease, the muscles under is sage green cardigan slightly bulging. “Um,” he starts. Pulling his lips into his mouth quickly as if to think of what to say. “Thank you so much for taking this on,” his fingers fidgeting with the steps on the bag. “I really appreciate it and hope that we can make this run smoothly until sara is ready to come back,” he rambles as you finally make it to the ground floor

“Of course it’s hopefully going to be a little bit more exciting than data entry and customer service,” he lets out a small laugh.

“I hope so,” he guides you out the door and a black SUV pulls up to the curb. “Here’s your ride,” you look at him with wide eyes.

“Huh?” You ask and a small older lady comes around the side and walks in front of you. Reaching out and grasping your hand in hers.

“Hi I’m Elaine and I am Mr.Styles driver,” she says with a large smile. “Though he doesn’t go anywhere so I am your driver,” her voice is airy and happy.

“Oh um,” you can’t seem to get nah words out. Shocked. Harry introduces you to her as your brain is still running behind. A driver for a personal assistant is kind of a lot.

“There’s lots of driving in this position and cabs can get expensive,” he moves to put the binders and folders in the back seat. Leaving you room to sit behind the passenger seat. “And there’s some things that I’ll need to bring to the office and back that I just don’t trust to be transported by subway or bus,” he says nervously. Sarah has mentioned he is a very paranoid man who hides it easily, until it comes to his writing. Along with other things, hence why he doesn’t venture more than a street from his apartment building.

“Oh okay,” you then nod at him. “I will see you tomorrow?” You ask trying not to sound too nervous.

“You know where to find me,” he lets out a shy laugh. You just smile at him and pull the door closed. You give Elaine your address and she sits in thought for a second. Before signaling to merge onto the road.

“Isn’t he handsome?” Elaine speaks as she pulls out into traffic. The question startling you. Her small frame is placed atop a cushion that gives her a few inches to see past the steering wheel.

“Oh yeah I guess,” you shrug.

“It’s okay honey you can tell me the truth,” she smiles mischievously through the rear view mirror. Why is she asking you this. It seems unprofessional considering you two are basically co-workers.

“He is a little too old for me,” you tell her click open your phone. Finding the email again and trying to read through and memorize as much information as you can.

“Not at all! You seem like a mature young lady. And very beautiful,”

“Thank you Elaine but Mr.Styles is my boss and I’m a little uncomfortable with this conversation to be honest,” your voice trailing off quietly. Hoping not to offend the older woman.

“Oh of course I’m so sorry,” she shakes her head. “I won’t ask again,” she waits a few seconds before looking back to me again. “So what made you take the job?” She ask’s curiously.

“The money pays well. Sarah seemed really nice and it’s definitely better than the dead end office jobs I’ve been finding,” you shrug. “Even though it’s a temporary thing it’ll be nice to get some experience,” she nods along with your words.

“Oh good reasons,” she laughs as you pull into a spot in front of your apartment building. “Here we are,” she sighs. Turning to look at you face to face. “Right?”

“Yes ma’am,” you respond opening the door and shuffling off the seat and pulling the bags with you. Your arms straining to carry the large heavy bags. ‘Wow I really need to go back to the gym,’ you think to yourself as you make your way to the door.

“Just call me Elaine,” she smiles at you from her now open window. “And I will be here tomorrow at seven so that we can do Mr.Styles morning errands,” you Jude nod and wave. Quickly making your way into the building.

"What did I just get myself into?" you whisper to yourself as you stop onto your elevator. Elaines words running through your head. Did you think he was attractive? I mean he wasn't unattracrive? Why was that her question about him for you? Was she trying to play cupid? Weird way to start out her first day at work. "Whatever he has in store for me tomorrow better not be nearly as exciting. Today was too much,"

[yourtouchismidas]

reading what the new yorker has to say about george and how he radiates utter stillness (very hot) has given me so many ideas, like imagine him with someone who has the absolute shortest fuse ever. idk maybe while he believes in quiet, stoic intimidation, girlie (a foot shorter than him) just gets into a bar fight. maybe she sees a couple of much older men getting a bit too comfy with young girls just trying to have a fun night and she's ready to throw hands. firm believer that george has to actually pick her up and take her away so she doesn't get arrested. also a firm believer of the fact that he finds it insanely attractive and shows it to her quite generously

(the possibilities are endless 😌)

you're drunk. its fucking great and you're having an amazing time. the music is loud. everyone is dancing. you're grinding on some girl you havent ever met, dont even know, and your boyfriend and his bandmates are all at the bar, sipping beers and laughing at you. with the exception of matty who is right there on the dancefloor with you, jumping around and pumping his fist.

ugh george. you love him. you love his face. his cheek bones. his smile when he laughs at you. you give him a cute little wave and he winks at you, barely moving apart from that. then you go back to dancing. god life is good.

you've lost the girl you were dancing with before but you dance with matty for a bit, his curls bouncing, you whooping, egging him on, and him grabbing your hands and spinning you around. when he does, he takes a step back and accidentally nudges a girl behind him, and her and her friends turn to you both, you meeting their eyes as you finish you spin.

matty holds his hands up, "sorry, sorry,"

they glare at him. you pull matty away and start dancing again, saying sorry yourself. the girls turn away. they sip thier drinks. but they aren't moving. thier standing on the dance floor. not dancing. there is plenty of space over by the bar to stand, if they want. you wave at george again, who is standing in the space, like a good boy.

oh well. fuck them. you're having a good night. you just wish they would stop glaring at you, because they are again, in between the gaps matty's arms make. you spin him around so your back is to them instead, so they wont get upset with him again if he nudges them, because he might, because he is drunk too.

you dont know if your feet actually land on hers, you dont feel it, and okay they might have, but the girl yells out.

"erm. ow!" she says. you turn around.

"sorry," you say again, even though you're not even sure you touched her.

"you stood on my foot," she says.

"i'm sorry," you say again, not sure what she wants you to do.

"you should be a bit fucking more careful, you know."

you breathe in. you were being careful. but thats not the point. its a dance floor. in a club. it's one in the morning. and they are standing on it. you start to burn, in your chest, angry.

"you know there is plenty of space over there if you dont wanna dance," you say, pointing to the bar. george notices you point. his attention pricks. he looks over to where you are talking to a group of girls and one of them is giving you a dirty look.

"we can stand where we want thanks," she says. "just like you act like a twat wherever you are."

"woah, alright," matty says, stopping dancing.

"what's this guy's problem anyway?" the girl says, looking round at her friends.

"we don't have a problem," matty says.

"we might," you say, staring at her. george has put his beer down on the side. ross is already primed, ready to watch it, if needs be.

"no no, just go back to dancing," matty says, smiling big at the girls.

"go back to standing in everyone's fucking way you mean," you say.

"shut the fuck up," the girl says, stepping closer to you.

you're in it now, you can't back down, you cant let this girl win. you step towards her too.

"i'll do what i like, thanks though."

the girl shoves you. everyone around you moves. you're reaching out to shove her, and before you know it, george is in the crowd with you, hand on your shoulder and waist, firm, looking down at the girl that shoved you. she has to look up to see his face.

"everything okay here?" he says, mainly to the other girl.

she nods. but she's smirking. she looks back at her friends, smirking. you lunge, out of his protective grasp, towards her. she steps back, trips a little, spills her pink drink all down her white dress. you dont reach her. georges arms have got you again, but this time, he is lifting you into the air.

"come on," he says, "be the bigger person,"

"i dont want to," you say squirming. the girl is crying, looking down at her ruined dress while all the other girls flock around her and fawn over her.

"dont have to," george says, nudging you to look at her, sobbing. you smirk.

george turns to carry you out, but before he does, he turns back to the girls and says, almost monotone, "ladies, if you're not gonna dance, dont stand on the dancefloor. it's good advice"

and then you're both gone, into the night air, into your boyfriend's arms.

[strangesickness]

bodyguard!eddie...

but you might be wondering! why would eddie choose a job as potentially dangerous as a bodyguard?

consider: i will do anything to make silly AUs. mostly kidding. consider for real this time: what he does in the novel and the miniseries, he drives cars in new york. car accidents kill something like 1.3 million people a year, 1000 or so of those people are new yorkers. you can't tell me bro doesn't know this.

but why being a bodyguard specifically? idk man! he finally got out of his mom's house and was angry enough that he really wanted to stick it to her and when he finished college he decided, "yknow what? fuck this. i get a 'safe' office job and i'll die by 55 from the stress. i might as well do something more interesting." or maybe he was frequenting the gym in college and someone suggested he do it as a weekend job. idk man. point is. bodyguard eddie <3 he probably starts with really basic shit that puts him at subzero risk, he does security for a couple small conventions, he mans the door at a small club on weeknights, etc.

but later he's richie's bodyguard. obviously. because i'm predictable. probably after quite a few years as a bodyguard. maybe when they're in their mid thirties. he thinks the job is kind of stupid. like who even cares about some asshole comedian who's jokes your nephew in eighth grade could, and probably has, come up with. richie doesn't really need a bodyguard, he's not that big a deal, and he's like twice eddie's size so whats even the point, and he thinks this seems kind of egotistic to be honest.

and because i think it's cute when adult reddie meet for the first time and eddie can't stand richie: eddie can't stand richie. he's always late, he doesn't seem to take his job seriously, he isn't very funny, he keeps flirting with eddie... okay maybe he's growing less annoyed by that last one by the day. but like. the list goes on.

eddie is Very Serious and Professional, and richie's like "pls pls pls can we go to five guys after this pls?" and eddie's like. "no. but i guess if we have to go somewhere we can go to panera bread. i guess." (he is not subtle at all about wanting to hang out with richie. he tries to pretend he's just doing his job but like. he caught himself laughing at richie's joke one time and he knew he had lost.)

after a while eddie is thinking that they're actually becoming friends and richie is getting lunch with him because they're friends, but then his paycheck comes in and it's way more than he expected because richie's paying for his time during their stupid outings to wendy's, and eddie's like. ????

richie generally speaking does not have any issues that require a bodyguard, he got a bodyguard because of an incident with an overzealous fan, but that was really a one in a thousand experience. eddie's job mostly consists of trying to look intimidating and getting people out of the way when richie's trying to leave events.

but like. then there is an altercation of some sort, and eddie has to physically remove someone from backstage or something. and richie is never the same. like yeah eddie is hot and cute and fun to be around, but he's like. dealing. and then he sees eddie manhandling someone much taller and heavier than him, and realizes eddie could probably carry him, and it's so over. he is just in a constant state of thinking about eddie literally sweeping him off his feet (and carrying him to bed👀).

also because i live for the drama i think eddie should get to dramatically save richie from an attacker. i don't know who is attacking him but someone is and eddie is swooping in and saving the day and maybe tearful confessions follow idk.

anyways bodyguard!eddie i love you <3

[gothicprep]

looking back on everything that’s happened wrt james somerton, part of me has got to wonder what hbomb’s and his viewers’ *real* problem with him was. when you see stories like this, and maybe I’m just cynical having been on the internet for too long, most people who get cancelled like this are kind of weird in some way. or people just don’t like them.

idk if you’ve ever watched “the traitors” before, but often the people who get voted out early don’t make eye contact or are slightly a bit weird. and people make up all sorts of conspiracy theories about why they can’t trust them, and blah blah blah. but it’s actually just a kind of “ick” fundamentally. these stories can be that, or they can be a kind of professional jealousy, or they can be “who’s the most marginalized in the marginalized pile”, or they can be smurfette syndrome (“there’s only room for there to be one gay disney youtuber, and by god, it’s gonna be me”). and beyond all that, it’s fun to be part of a mob.

maybe this is just growing pains on my end realizing that I used to have that tendency and over-indexing in the other direction. I’m weirdly sympathetic to villains. but john ronson points this out in his book, that the internet never doles out the correct amount of punishment. all things considered, plagiarism is a misdemeanor. ripping off articles and YouTube videos is a sin, but it’s a venial sin. he may have harmed people, but he didn’t hurt people if that makes any sense.

there’s a very good piece by malcolm gladwell in the New Yorker archive from like 10 or 15 years ago about how he doesn’t personally believe plagiarism to be that big of a deal. it’s very interesting and basically the lynchpin of his argument is that there isn’t any copyright on ideas. it’s not about the ideas, it’s the execution. think of that scene in the social network when jesse eisenberg says to the fucked up looking winklewhatever twins, “if you were the inventors of Facebook, you’d have invented Facebook”

lot of this seems to be prefaced on the idea of people making money that they “don’t deserve”, which is a philosophical question beyond the scope of this post.

[nicollekidman]

Abby, I agree with you that Oppenheimer was really fucking good, but I also read Richard Brody's take in The New Yorker today, and it's kinda hard to argue against it? IDK. I'd love to hear your take on Brody's take.

eh i’m not generally a fan of brody but i also don’t think film criticism exists as a thesis to then be defended/argued against. his critique makes sense coming from a person who clearly wanted an entirely different film, the bulk of his argument such as it is, stems from how the movie thwarted his expectations and did not fulfill what he was hoping an oppenheimer biopic would fulfill. i think as always, chris nolan has some blind spots as a filmmaker, and certainly, oppenheimer exists in the film as an enigma, albeit one we view from his own point of view, which has its limitations. i’m sure i can speak more eloquently and fully aboit those things when it’s not midnight and my face doesn’t still feel numb.

but the way the movie spoke to me was as a towering conglomeration of Feeling…. the script, the score, the editing, the pacing, the cinematography for ME add up to a film that is more concerned with trapping you in a very specific State, where words, reasoning, moral arguments (especially after the fact) mean NOTHING in the bigger picture, where all the posturing in the world is meaningless when the consequences are something we are all familiar with… it’s not a biopic, it was never trying to be a biopic. it’s an overwhelming, inescapable, long three hours looking through the eyes of a man who, perhaps, does not deserve a more nuanced, illuminating portrait… it’s the dread that sits with you, the understanding that all of these moments of grandstanding, politicking, wavering, handwringing are nothing against the reality of fusion and fision. and like. that’s not going to work for everyone! it maybe isn’t even the responsible way to tell a story like this! but i think the film as it stands is a remarkable technical achievement that also succeeds in what it’s trying to do, and if you wanted it to be something different, or needed it to be something different, or think it shouldn’t have been made at all, none of that is going to work for you and that’s fine.

personally i love experiencing a visceral reaction like i’m having my face peeled off when faced with insane external stimuli combined with my own ethics and understanding of historical events

[eviesaurusrex]

Waking up || S. Strange

[picture is not mine!]

pairing: Stephen Strange x Stark!Reader

word count: 3.4k

summary: Waking up beside the man you love more than words could ever describe is something entirely different.

warnings: so much fluff and sugar, you'll die from a sugar shock (maybe), the morning voice of Stephen (yes, that is a warning), kissing, cuddling in bed, suggestive topics because c'mon, they love each other so much, that's why this one is probably kinda 18+ (idk), an "I am so very sorry" end.

author's note: After my first ever uploaded story about Stephen (click me! no, click me!) I impulsively decided to create my own little universe around these two lovestruck fools. Enjoy!

[Minors DNI]

It was quiet inside the halls of the Sanctum Sanctorum while the sun rose steadily over the horizon to start a new day. Only the faint noise of the buzzing streets of New York City was heard where busy people went to their busy but boring jobs and didn’t spend a second glance at the building standing tall at 177A Bleecker Street. If they had, they would’ve gotten the strangest of all views and could’ve had the strangest of all stories to tell. Who would believe them that they saw a floating red cape in one of the windows without an actual human being wearing it? And if they had stood longer than a few seconds to witness the magic within this strange building, the busy New Yorker could’ve seen a Sorcerer hot on the cloak’s heels.

But instead, the steps and grumbling of Wong only woke a sleepy woman in one of the four-poster beds belonging inside the Sanctum. A nest of untamed hair peeked from underneath the large blanket in which she had rolled herself while dreaming of design plans, upcoming orders, and budget meetings. Nobody had said it was a pleasant dream that accompanied the usually busy woman.

A yawn escaped the fort of blankets and pillows, emerging with stretched arms and a sigh full of contentment before the nose of the Stark peeked over the blanket burrito. Ever since understanding how comfortable a blanket could be, she had the habit of transforming herself into a blanket burrito – and stealing every piece of fabric in the process of it. Tearing her mouth wide to yawn again, she rolled as slowly and carefully as she could muster in her current state onto the other side and pulled the blanket with her. Surprisingly, the lower half of the man lying beside her was covered with one of the blankets that usually had its place over the armchair in the adjacent walk-in closet. She couldn’t help herself but softly smile at the view in front of her droopy eyes, still incredibly heavy from the lack of a healthy amount of sleep.

Scooting closer to the black-haired man, she slowly unraveled her own blanket to share it with him like she always did as soon as she opened her eyes morning after morning. After she was content with the result, the Stark woman scooted even closer to nuzzle herself into his warm, inviting side before resting her head tiredly on his chest.

These mornings, lazy mornings, were her favorite because she finally could enjoy his presence, warmth, and love without fearing the alarm to get off to bring them both back into reality. She hated the concept of reality when she could stay with him but had to be a responsible adult again as soon as the sun was up. But today, she didn’t care about responsibilities, being an adult, and gracing the compound with her presence. Today, she would stay in bed as long as she could with the man she loved more than anything else in this world. Neither of them had to save the world today. The superhero exchange market was closed until the end of the weekend. Humanity had to call her brother and his not-so-secret secret boyband group for urgent matters.

Sighing again, the Stark tried to find a comfortable position on the soft mattress but without waking the man next to her, before giving up and just entangling her legs with the other pair in this bed. As soon as skin touched skin, the woman hissed lowly at the feeling of icy cold feet and almost jerked back onto her bedside. Throwing a glance down along the furniture, she determined the problem. With just another sigh – this time with much more frustration – she tried to push the fabric over his feet without waking him up. But his raspy voice thwarts her fruitless attempts.

“I thought we said something about sleeping in,” Stephen mumbled groggily, still half asleep and his blue eyes barely open. With a deeply apologetic expression on her beautiful face, the Stark leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth gently. “I’m sorry, darling,” she whispered, nuzzled against his cheek, and peppering his warm skin with soft pecks of her lips. “I stole the blankets again, and only tried to warm up your ice block-like feet.”

The Sorcerer Supreme hummed contently, eyes already fully closed again and a barely visible smile on his tempting lips. The woman laid herself over the expansion of his chest, both arms crossed over the hard muscles and bed the chin on her arms. “Blanket thief.” Still raspy from sleep, Stephen’s voice rumbled in his chest underneath her, and the woman chuckled. Glistening eyes were trained on the Sorcerer in front of them, and she smiled full of adoration and happiness.

“You knew that long enough to consider not letting me in your bed and near your blankets,” she grinned while bending her head to pepper the bearded chin with kisses. Chuckling softly at the tickly feeling of his stubbles, strong arms wrapped themselves around the delicate body on him, and Stephen pulled the woman even closer. Now they were nose to nose, and the doctor finally opened his eyes fully. “I like having you in my blankets, Miss Stark.” – “Of course, you do, Doctor Strange,” came the retort instantly while memories of last night flooded her mind.

Tangled bodies, flying pieces of clothing, and soft moans echoed through the bedroom after they had finally made it onto the bed, but not without shattering Wong’s worldview and probably marked him for the rest of his life. She still felt his rough, but nevertheless soft, hands on her body and felt the desperation behind each searing kiss that matched her own. Her lips were sore in the best possible way, and her fingers ached to bury them back into the black strands of the man underneath her. She was sure that he remembered as well because Stephen gripped her hips even tighter and tried to pull her even closer, even though not a single atom would fit between their bodies.

A low growl escaped him as soon as the Stark gave in to the desire and buried the fingers of one of her hands back in his hair, lowering her face closer to his. Stephen lifted his head to meet her halfway in an equally desperate kiss like he had given her only hours ago, but the woman had other plans. Instead of kissing him like her life depended on it, her soft lips barely touched his, before wandering from one corner of his mouth to the other, to the tip of his nose, his cheekbones. His forehead. His eyes fluttered shut and remained that way until she straddled him completely and dedicated her attention to his hands.

She loved his hands. They’re bigger than hers, swallowing her hands complete when the Sorcerer grasped them to pin her onto the bed, hold her hand in public or cover them while spooning the woman through the night. The scars reminded her of delicate lines on expensive paintings her parents started to collect and which Tony kept securely locked inside one of their many vaults. Lines that ultimately formed branches and full blooming trees, radiating the calmest of feelings the youngest Stark child had ever felt while looking at a painting. The scars reminded her what a fighter the man she loved was and how he overcame obstacles some people would never face in their whole life. And thus, Stephen Strange became one of the strongest persons she ever had the pleasure to know.

Soft lips left kiss after kiss on his warm skin, warm eyes laid upon his deadly handsome face on which a loving smile tucked at his lips. Blue eyes never left her face, admiring the view as he usually does, and she took her time to kiss every inch of every scar – until she reached his fingertips. “What are you doing, love?” His still raspy - and hot as hell -morning voice asked, full of curiosity, even though Stephen already knew the drill. Sometimes the woman upon him needed to take her time to admire him – and to show him through tender acts like these how much she loved and valued him. Grinning down on the tired Sorcerer, the Stark shrugged nonchalantly and started to kiss the fingertips of his left hand.

“I.”

A kiss on his thumb.

“Just.”

One on his index finger.

“Felt.”

Now, his middle finger had its turn.

“Like.”

His ring finger got a kiss, and the Stark woman instantly lingered a bit longer. At some point, she wanted to see a ring on this finger. A ring that screamed for the entire world to see that this man belonged to her and her alone.

“It.”

A last kiss on his pinkie finger before the woman moved straightly to his other hand. Stephen chuckled lovingly and shook his head in utter awe at this woman. “You are a strange one, darling.” Still grinning, she kissed the other thumb and cocked her head slightly. “Well, we have to match, love. You’re wearing the name, and I’m the fitting attitude.” It was easy as that, even though she desperately wanted to wear his name one day as well. It certainly wasn’t love at first sight – not on her part, at least – but now, after the disaster that was their dating episode and two years living in the relationship they started after date number twenty-three, she wanted nothing else. Maybe the doctor knew, maybe not; she didn’t really care because Natasha and Wanda would point it out to him in a more inconspicuous way if he didn’t start to think about it on his own. Her sisters – not biological, but on an even deeper level – would handle it if needed.

Nothing to worry about.

Stephen’s thumb and index finger gently grasped her chin and held it in place, so he could sit up between pillows and blankets. Nose to nose, they sat in their shared bed, and the Sorcerer couldn’t resist and rub them against each other. She could see how his bright eyes slowly fell shut, and her hands, which fell onto his chest at the sudden movement, rose with his deep inhale. Half-open lips touched hers, and the Stark couldn’t resist parting her lips too and sighing contently as soon as he kissed her lovingly.

“Someday…,” Stephen began, his hand now cradling her jawline and stroking her cheek, “Someday, you’re not only wearing the attitude, my love. Someday…” He only had to move not even two inches to brush lips over lips before kissing the woman like his life depended on it. Stephen’s hand clasped the Stark’s chin again, pulling her towards his awaiting lips and lured a breathy moan out of her body. He smiled a satisfied smile within the kiss while circling the other arm around her waist and pulling the soft body of the woman flush against his. Pressed against each other, he softly licked over her bottom lip before pulling only a mere inch away. She was out of breath, and the doctor showed his girlfriend one of his signature smug grins before he turned serious again. “You will wear my name, love because as soon as the time has come, I won’t tolerate it any longer that you’re walking around without a ring on your finger. Nobody knows that you’re mine.” Except for the hundreds of thousands of buyers of tabloids, she thought, smiling like a stupid teenager. “And I want this. I want you, for the rest of times.”

Leaning her forehead against his, the woman combed through his dark strands and nuzzled her nose against his. “And then you’re always saying that you are so bad with words. I don’t wanna hear this bullshit ever again,” she whispered, feeling tears full of utter happiness emerging. Apparently, she didn’t need her sisters because out of the blue, she knew with a shocking certainty that Stephen Strange loved her as much as she loved him.

The Sorcerer smiled at her words and pushed one of her locks behind her ear, kissing the tip of her nose. “Whatever you say, my love.” Sniffling, the Stark shook her head and laughed in disbelief. “If you wanna outdo this little speech of yours when the time comes, you really have to prepare something in advance, baby,” she said, with her hand settling in its usual spot at the nape of his neck, where she could play with the shorter black hair. Her other hand cradled his jawline now while her thumb stroked softly over his full bottom lip, where a smile tucked at its corner. “Don’t you worry, love. After it, there won’t be any other men in your thoughts.”

If he knew that he already has me wrapped around his fingers…

She grinned at that thought but started to groan as soon as the phone on the bedside table started to ring. Stephen furrowed his brows and shot the device a look that could kill a living human being in a matter of seconds. “Please say it isn’t work.” Stephen’s pleading words accompanied her as she bent over (but never left his lap, of course not) and got a hold of her still ringing and vibrating phone. An unfavorable picture of Tony beamed up towards her, and another groan left the younger Stark’s mouth. With an apologetic glance back to Stephen, she picked up.

“If you don’t have anything important to say, you can hang up directly, idiot. I’m on vacation.” Who needs greetings, right? A scoff came through. “I need fresh parts for my project. The kid blew it up.” Clattering was heard in the background, followed by a familiar voice. “I am so very sorry, Miss… Mrs... Doctor Stark! Please, tell her that I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, Sir! If you can hear me, M... Doctor Stark, I am sorry, and I will make it up to you, I promise!” The kid kept on apologizing, and Tony sighed. “You see with what I have to deal? I need adult contact, so could you just please skip your vacation? Speaking of the suspicious vacation: Since when do we do vacation? Did I miss a memo?”

While she listened to her brother with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Stephen nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and peppered soft kisses over the exposed skin over one of his shirts. She tried to push him away to prevent the bubbling giggle inside her throat the farther he got to her weak spots. But the doctor was relentless in his attempts.

Grinning, the Stark submitted to her fate and leaned her cheek on top of his head, whereas her fingers carded again through Stephen’s dangerously attractive grey strands. “I decided I needed a vacation, so I took one. I’m a grown adult, Tony, in case you missed the last… twenty-plus years? However, you have to deal with the kid and the parts alone. Check Hangar o-seven; there should be the newest shipping stored. If you need special-special parts, you’ll have to wait till Monday morning.” She put the phone from her ear and chuckled softly as Stephen’s beard tickled her sensitive neck. “You need to stop, love.” It was only a hushed whisper, but Tony seemed to have picked something up. “Wait a second. You’re not here until Monday?!” – “Nope.” Popping the p was a habit of hers every time she spoke to her brother. Another scoff came through the line. “Let me guess. You’re with him?”

At those words, Stephen raised his head from her neck, took the phone, and ignored the gasp of his love. “Douchebag Stark, always a pleasure, but your sister now has something far more important to attend, so if you’d leave a lovely message on her voicemail and wait for her until Monday, she would appreciate it very much. Have a wonderful weekend; she certainly will have it, and my regards to the spider kid.” And with that, he hung up and threw the phone onto the empty side of the bed after turning it off.

With wide, round eyes, she sat on his lap, astonishment plastered all over her face, and a gaping mouth was all she could muster at this very moment. But then, she grinned, laughed even, and cupped his face while Stephen embraced her hips with both his hands. “So, where were we again? Ah, yes,” the Sorcerer mumbled before pulling her core against his in a swift motion, holding her close, and smugly grinned at the breathy moan that escaped her lips. “You’ll be the death of me,” was all she could whisper before the urge to kiss him grew too strong to withstand it any second longer.

Giggle and laughter filled the now brightly lit bedroom as Stephen pulled the Stark tighter against his chest and tipped them over onto the empty side of the mattress.

Neither of them intended to get up any time soon.

She woke with a violent gasp, eyes flying open and a hand shakily outstretched to feel the empty and cold side of the bed. Turning her head, the Stark felt the first tear escaping her eye, but she wouldn’t believe what she saw.

He is just in the bathroom. Just in the bathroom…

A mantra formed in her mind, and she left the bed instantly. “Stephen?” She softly but shakily called while crossing the room and knocking at the ajar door. It opened through the pressure of her knuckles and revealed a bathroom covered in darkness. Tears stung in her searching eyes, the dream still clinging to her mind, and with a suppressed sob, the Stark ran to the door and tore it open.

The silence within the halls of the compound was deafening, but she rushed through each corridor, nonetheless, calling his name in search of him. She needed to find him, to feel him and his warmth, to hear his voice that would tell her that everything was alright, that the fear was only an illusion.

“Stephen?”

She rounded the corner and stood in the kitchen, where Steve and Natasha had a deep conversation with her brother. The three of them turned around at the sound of her voice while Rhodey sat on the couch in the living room, watching the scene with a compassionate expression.

“Hey, bubba. Everything alright?” Tony walked over to her; his arms opened invitingly to give her a much-needed hug if she wanted to have one. But he stilled in his movements as a question arose from her. “Where is Stephen?” Every person in this room exchanged shocked looks before Steve slowly came over. Tony was too shocked to even lower his still half-raised arms. “He… he is gone, love. Like all the others, he didn’t come back.” Big tearful eyes looked up at him, and slowly the Stark started to shake her head.

No. It’s not true. He was here only minutes ago. I still can feel him on my…

She looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them, trying to determine if the lingering feeling of his hair, his touch, was an illusion all along or if he still was with her. But she wasn’t sure.

“He… But… He was with me, I… I’m not crazy. Not crazy…” The last words were nothing more than a whisper. Natasha softly touched her shoulders and carefully stroked her hair. “You’re not crazy, we all know that, but he is gone, dorogoy (1). We lost the fight against Thanos three months ago, and Tony saw him as he… as he vanished, remember?” (1 – darling)

Natasha’s words finally pulled the Stark back into reality, out of the dream she had dreamed the previous night, after so many nights without any sleep, and reality hit her hard. Sobs racked through the weak and sleep-deprived body while hugging herself tightly. She felt as if she would fall apart in a matter of seconds, with no hold in this world and nobody to understand her fully. She was alone, lost, helpless. She wasn’t even sure how she was supposed to live further and tag along with the never-ending grief left to hold everything together. The last three months were already like a walk through hell, and her tormented soul couldn’t bring itself to try and mend away again.

Shaking her head profusely, the broken woman would’ve dropped to the ground if Tony wouldn’t have caught and pulled her into his arms. Holding the violently shaking body of his sister close to him while sob after sob escaped her mouth, he felt hopeless. “Everything will be alright, bubba. Everything…”

But she didn’t listen. She couldn’t because she knew that nobody could undo what had happened, and no one could come back.

No one, not even the Sorcerer Supreme himself.

Comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated! Lots of love and thanks for reading! If you want to join the taglist, please reach out and let me know!

[mickey-gomez]

Chapter 9 of Fade Into You

Warnings: Word crimes, thesaurus crimes, soft smut, fluff.

Pairing: Rita/Reader

A/N: Picks up directly after chapter 8. It's a little long sorry. I tried to write it the best way I could to describe what it feels like when you're hopelessly in lust with someone. But it's a little muddled. It wouldn't let me put a chapter title/header in, so idk, I guess it's untitled? Also I strongly dislike the series title, so if anyone has an idea for a new title please let me know.

I have most of this series written in dribs and drabs on a big working doc, but I don't really have a structure, so therefore I don't know how to connect it all yet. Also I don't think I'm very good at writing smut, and it sort of intimidates me. So it's hard to update more frequently because I overthink it and constantly rewrite.

The two of you performed a delicate dance throughout the week, hidden glimpses as you passed one another in the halls, fleeting and restrained touches as you slipped past each other in doorways, lingering looks shared in an office wide meeting.

You caught her gaze once more as you walked past her out of the meeting, walking in the opposite direction, rounding the corner of a dimly lit hallway, the soft glow of the wall sconces illuminating your path, casting shadows as they danced across your features. 

You leant against the wall, nearing the exit, as you waited. And for a brief moment, you considered giving up, with the thought that she hadn’t followed you, or had gotten caught up in conversation, then you saw her out of the corner of your eye. 

You ran your eyes over her as she approached you, her long, warm and rich brown hair cascading down her back, her tailored suit that clung to her in all the right places, and the faint smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. 

“Hi” she said in a low, husky voice, as she stood in front of you. 

“Hi” you replied, your voice a little breathless. 

You both stood there for a moment, your eyes locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. You felt a rush of heat spread through your body as you watched her gaze flicker down and then back up again. The attraction between the two of you was undeniable, and it hung in the air like a tangible force. 

“Are you free on Friday evening?” Rita asked, breaking the silence, though her voice still held that seductive tone. 

You nodded, or at least you thought you had, your words momentarily escaping you, before realising you hadn’t actually spoken or given her an answer. “Maybe, why?” you eventually answered.

“Rafa, against my many protests, has organised farewell drinks with some of the other staff at Whiskey Tavern.” 

“That place is so not your scene.” You were right about that part, but you knew Rafael had most likely organised drinks there because it was a block away from the office, it was cheap and a pretty popular bar amongst the young District Attorney’s office staff. Exactly the sort of place that Rita would never be caught dead in.

“I know, but at least they have halfway decent scotch.” She took a step closer, closing some of the distance between you, her fingers brushing against your arm, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Plus you can’t really call yourself a New Yorker unless you’ve made out in their photo booth.” your eyes shone as you said it, and her gaze dropped down to your lips once more. She leaned in, just slightly, as if she was testing the waters. “I’ll see you on Friday” you whispered next to her ear as your cheeks brushed together, and you slid out from between her and the hallway. 

You pushed open the heavy wooden door, the soft ambient hum of conversation greeted you. Warm, dim lights bathed the room, revealing a mess of weathered wooden tables, each one crowded with company, and littered with peanut shells. 

“Got stuck at the precinct, sorry I’m late.” you said brightly as you approached the table.

“Hey!” Rafael’s eyes widened as he greeted you excitedly, standing from the table to embrace you in a friendly, but hasty hug. “Sorry I haven’t had a chance to say hello at the office yet.” 

“Don’t be sorry” you touched his arm and smiled sincerely “So, will we see you at Thanksgiving again this year? You know, to protect Rita from the wolves?” you teased and he grinned, from a mix of liquor and playful amusement. 

“I think my mom would probably beat me senseless, if I missed another year.” 

Across the table, Rita sat relaxed in her chair, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. Her hair was pinned back with her natural waves flowing down over her shoulders, and her hazel eyes framed by dark lashes, locked onto you with an intensity that made her almost impossible to ignore. 

Your eyes finally met, and a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between you both. The air thickened with anticipation as your gaze held for a moment too long. Rita’s lips curled into a knowing smile, as your heart raced just a little faster. 

You tore your eyes away before it became apparent to everyone at the table that there was palpable tension between you both, saying a quick hello to people you didn’t quite recognise or remember, before offering to buy a round for the table, pointing at everyone one at a time as you memorised their order. 

You settled into the open chair next to Rita’s after you dropped the tray of drinks into the middle of the table, leaving everyone to reach for them, while you and Rita exchanged false pleasantries. Rafael introduced you to the group as you sat, and Rita’s hand moved to your thigh, out of sight, something reserved for the two of you.

The hours melted away as her peers continued to share stories and amusing secrets, while the two of you shared stolen glances, your connection growing stronger with each passing moment. The bar’s dim lights cast shadows on your faces, enhancing the intrigue of the situation. 

And when the conversations seemed to pair off and you found yourself speaking directly to her, your conversation danced on the edge of intimacy as you exchanged stories, lingering touches, and smouldering glances. The playful banter masked your desires, but every word and gesture secretly revealed the simmering passion that threatened to consume both of you.

“Alright” you stood from your seat at the table, “Does anyone have a silver dollar?” you asked, holding your hand out flat and waving your fingers. One of them handed you the dollar out of their pocket, and after a thank you, you turned to Rita and tilted your head towards the opposite end of the bar. “You can’t leave the DA’s office without a memento.” you said with a glimmer in your eye, she knew almost immediately what you were alluding to, and so without hesitation, she followed you with intrigue.

As you both stepped inside the booth, the heavy curtain fell behind you, cocooning you in a private world of dimmed, flickering light. The soft hum of the booth’s machinery enveloped you, drowning out the noise of the crowded bar. 

The camera counted down - three, two, one. The flash illuminated your faces, capturing a moment of shared vulnerability. And as it started to count down once more you both turned your heads, gazes heavy as they fell over one another’s lips, three, two, one. The flash went off and in that moment, you crashed together. 

Your lips were greedy and you could taste the sugar that coated her tongue, a low moan escaped you and your arms wrapped around her shoulders, your fingers threading through her hair as you consumed one another. 

Three, two, one. You both moved together, as the flash went off once more, your hands now scrambling for the others’ body, desperate to feel the touch of skin on skin. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” she whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You swallowed, hard, and nodded in response. With that, you both knew the night had just begun, and the tension that had been building between the two of you was about to ignite into a fiery passion that neither of you wanted to resist, finally feeling free after all these years. 

Rita reached for your hips and you swung your leg over, fingers gripping onto her shoulders as you held yourself upright. She ran her hand along your cheek delicately, and her thumb traced along your lower lip, and as your swollen lips parted, you drew the digit in, encasing it and running your tongue over it. She was powerless not to moan at the sight, and ever so quick in arching her shoulders and craning her neck, exchanging her thumb’s place with her own tongue. 

Rita reached down in between your bodies, her fingers moving through you, and into the pool of desire that awaited her, grinning at the wetness she found. Her thumb curled up to rub with intent over your clit, and you moaned into her mouth.

Your hands joined at the base of the toy, as you both lined it up with your entrance and you slowly sunk down, both of your gazes fixated on the sight of it, and you let out a shallow breath you’d been holding in your throat.  

She felt the exact moment you relaxed and for a moment you were both still, your hips flush, eyes locked on one another. Until Rita gripped your hips and you rose up on your knees, as she drove a little further, a little harder, into you. Your eyes fell closed, and your mouth flew open and you went slack jawed. She shifted her hips slightly, allowing herself to feel the friction at the base of the strap, and the movement caused a loud moan to spill from your throat. 

“Right there” you gasped, your nails raked down her back and she moaned in response, before reaching a hand around to deliver a sharp spank. The feeling of her hands on your skin, the soft contact, your chests pressed together, and breaths and moans fanning over skin, it all promised to overwhelm. 

“Do that again.” you groaned, and instead of acting on your demand, she pinched you suddenly, and roughly on your inner thigh. You let out a high pitched whine and before you could even think to question her, you realised why she had done it. “Do that again, please.” you said slowly and deliberately, and you could almost hear her smirking with your eyes closed. 

You moved your hands, one down to your clit and the other alternated across your chest, pinching and twisting. Her gaze followed your movements and she moaned as she watched you, feeling herself falling closer to the edge. She watched when your breathing started to become more erratic and frantic, and pulled your hand away from your clit, and you let out a loud whine, your eyes flying open, gazing down at her through hooded lids.

“Not yet” she said breathily, and you leaned back down to kiss her, your hands weaving around her neck. The kiss was a mess of teeth with little control or coordination, but it didn’t seem to bother either of you as you chased your peaks together.

She moved two of her fingers down to rub your clit, “Be a good girl and come for me”, and the combination of her words and her movements pushed you over the edge. When you came, your knees tightened against her hips and your back arched, right at the moment you heard her let out an almost feral sound. 

Your tongues slid together lazily as you both came down from your highs, floating back. The room was filled with a serene stillness, a stark contrast to the frenzied passion that had just consumed you both. 

Your hearts continued to race in tandem, gradually slowing down as you basked in the shared intimacy of the moment. You traced your fingertips gently along the curves of her body, your touch mirroring the depth of your own emotions, and everything left unsaid.

She raised her head up to look at you, her eyes filled with a soft, affectionate gaze. But it was fleeting, you noticed the moment she trapped her vulnerability from spilling further, and when the light in her eyes changed.

“Well that was a spectacular farewell.” she smirked and raised her eyebrows, and giggles erupted from both of you. 

“You should quit every day.” and you both laughed

“You wanna go again?” 

“Knees” you said, a mix of sighs and laughter.

Rita understood, and so she gently gripped your hips and shifted you both until you were on your back, with her on top of you, the heels of your feet resting against her back. She pulled all the way out and you groaned a little at the loss, and just as you went to ask for her to come back, she slid back in, with more force this time, and at a more intense pace.

The room was cast in a tranquil hush, the remnants of your night still lingered distantly in the air, the warm sheets and her arms enveloped you. Then the shrill and incessant ringing of your phone shattered the fragile peace, jarring you from your shared cocoon of intimacy. 

You blindly reached for it, feeling around the nightstand until it was in your hand, holding it up to your ear as you whispered in conversation with the detective on the other end. Your voice still carried the remnants of sleep, and their words, a blend of apologies and urgency, rudely awakened you to a new day. Rita kissed your shoulder, as you hung up the phone, and you turned in her embrace to drop a chaste kiss against her lips. 

“I have to go get a warrant” you whispered as you pulled back, and she let out a drowsy sigh in response, nestling into the pillow beneath her head, you smiled as you drank her in. Her tousled hair that spilled across the pillow like a dark river, and her eyelashes that cast delicate shadows on her cheeks. You traced your fingers along the contours of her face, marvelling at the peaceful expression that adorned her lips. 

Reality, however, began to nudge at the edges of your cocoon of affection. Responsibilities beckoned, and the detectives in the world outside were awaiting your arrival. 

“I can feel you staring”, she murmured, stirring as her eyes fluttered open, and a sleepy smile met yours. 

“Can I borrow some clothes?” you hummed, the urgency of time bore down on you, as you tried to savour this precious moment, etching it into your memory. 

“Only if you come back with breakfast” she teased, another smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she fought to repress a yawn, “Bagels.”

You knocked softly on the car window, handing over the warrant to Fin as he wound down the window. “Brought you this as well” you smiled as you extended the coffee tray, he plucked one of the paper cups out with a thank you, as he stepped out of the car, and the two of you leaned against the doors, waiting on the other detectives and officers. 

You looked off into the distance, taking in the city around you as it unveiled its quieter side. The occasional taxi hummed past, its yellow hue a vivid contrast to the still muted palette of dawn. A lone jogger, headphones in place, raced past you both, his feet pounding against the pavement, as if the sound was the slow heartbeat of the city, still in transition from the night’s revelry and the day’s responsibilities. Your mind cast back over the night, and you couldn’t help the involuntary smile that graced your features at the flashes of memories.

“You’re in a good mood.” Fin commented as he watched you, “You get laid last night?” and when you didn’t give him a verbal response, instead glancing down, a soft breath of laughter leaving you and your smile growing wider. He let out a low laugh, “Good for you.”, he commented with genuine candour. “Is it serious?”

“It’s all still relatively new, but it doesn’t feel new.” you reflected “It feels like we were always going to end up here. I don’t quite know how to describe it.” 

“The two of you friends?” he asked, and you nodded softly. 

“I don’t know if we were ever just friends though.” you murmured in thought, losing yourself in the threads of the past. “Sorry, I’m oversharing.” you shook your head, pulling yourself out of your own introspection.

“It’s cool.” he said without hesitation, and with authentic sincerity. “My old partner, back in Narcotics, was a woman. So, you can talk to me, if you want.” he tipped his head over to look at you “You’re part of the squad, we like you, you know? Stabler just has a hard way of showing it.”.

He was trying his hardest, and persisting through his stammering, to form a deeper connection with you. One that extended beyond the surface level of professionality that you all operated with. 

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” You smiled at him, and put your hand on his shoulder for a brief minute, before the moment you were sharing was interrupted with the arrival of squad cars, and that same earlier responsibility beckoned. 

You returned back to Rita’s, letting yourself in with her keys as you juggled the brown paper bags cradled in your arms. You carefully set everything down on the counter, and bent down to remove your shoes. 

Quietly walking down the hall, you ran your hands over the bedroom door, gently prying it open. You watched her for a fleeting moment, the soft rise and fall of her chest, and the peaceful expression on her face as she slept soundly. You hesitated on whether or not to wake her, but before you could make your mind up, she stirred amongst the sheets. 

You walked over to her side of the bed and gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, planting a soft kiss there. “Good morning” you whispered, keeping your voice as soft and gentle as the morning light streaming in through the curtains. “Breakfast is on the counter.”

“Where’d you go?” her eyes flickered open, and she rubbed at them, trying to remove the traces of sleep.

“Well first I went Russ & Daughters for the bagels and appetizers, then to Ray’s for beignets, and then I dropped by the newsstand on the corner to get you the paper.”

“Mm thank you” she murmured with a suppressed yawn, she sat up, the sheets pooling around her, as she ran her hands through her dishevelled hair. “Which Judge did you wake up?” 

“Ridenour” 

“I bet he was mad.” her eyes widened just slightly for a moment, and she held back her laughter. 

“That’s… putting it politely.” 

“Judge Taten lives about ten blocks from here, and isn’t as cranky, for future reference. She even puts on coffee, and sometimes she’ll give you pastries.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that four hours ago? I went all the way uptown!” you hit her arm as your face contorted in irritation, and you looked at her with your mouth agape. 

“I was asleep.” she shrugged, but the brief glimpse of a smile gave her away, revealing it was far more likely she had deliberately withheld that information. Presumably for her own amusement at the thought of you uncaffeinated, with a throbbing headache after a night of drinking and sex, being shouted at and scolded while she slept soundly. 

She climbed out of bed, stretching out her arms and rolling the muscles in her neck as she suppressed a yawn. When she walked into her wardrobe, your eyes were glued to the back of her. 

“Follow me” she tied the belt of her robe tighter around her waist, and beckoned you with one finger. 

You did as she commanded and followed her down the hall and into what you presumed was her office, glancing around the room briefly as she unlocked her desk drawer and pulled out a worn leather notebook.

“This is my black book” she closed the drawer and turned back to you, holding the item in both hands, looking at you expectantly. 

“Okay..?” you looked back at her confused, your eyes narrowing and your expression motionless. 

“Let me rephrase.” she smiled as she looked away for a moment, then back to you. “This is a notebook with every sitting judge’s name, phone number, address. As well as the names and phone numbers of their clerks and assistants. There’s also notes under each Judge, their kid’s names, pets, hobbies, political affiliations, and so on.” She raised an eyebrow as she took in your reaction. 

“How did you get this?” your eyes went wide and your mouth opened, almost in disbelief. It was a secret roadmap, one that would help you not only pick and choose which judge to grant you a warrant, but also how to pander to them in court and build up rapport with them; she was giving you the keys to winning. 

“I didn’t ‘get’ it, I made it.” she scoffed “It took me a couple of years which is why-” 

“Gimme” you reached for it, snatching, almost childlike, and she pulled it back, staring at you with a stern but amused expression. 

“-Which is why, I have never ever shared its contents.” 

“But… you’re now going to share it?... With me?” you spoke slowly, tilting your head to the side, trying to ascertain her intentions. 

“You may borrow it for one week, to copy it and to make your own. But you are not to share it with anyone else, and I expect it back this Friday.” She slowly extended it, and right as you reached for it she pulled it back, and you looked back to her. “And you now owe me.” She smirked, knowing you had no choice but to agree to that term. 

“I hardly think that’s fair considering I just brought you breakfast.” you rolled your eyes, and she went to put it back into her desk drawer until you snatched it. “Fine! Fine. I owe you.” 

“And?” she looked at you expectantly. 

“Thank you” you leaned in and kissed her, backing her into the desk. Your hands blindly reached for the tie on her robe, fingers gracelessly undoing the knot. “So this is how you always win.” you teased, whispering against her neck and you heard her scoff loudly before she smacked you. 

“I always win because I’m the best.” she mumbled, her breath catching in her throat as your fingers swept over her stomach, tickling her. 

“Yes, yes you are.” you murmured as you sunk down onto your knees, winking at her as you pulled her leg onto your shoulder. 

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[hood-ex]

How did you like mutant mayhem? who was your fav

Loved it!! I had SO much fun watching it!!

The turtles getting their groceries from shipping containers/trucks?? Brilliant! Love that take!

I was pressed when I read that Leo was going to have a crush on April, but I actually didn't mind it in this case. (Even though I 100% prefer for them to just be best friend's/family and would never want to see April with any of them). Like Leo being such a nerd made it work plus April didn't show any interest in him, so it didn't bug me like I thought it would. Now if they try to turn that into something in the future then we're gonna have a problem, but it being a one-sided thing that Leo will hopefully grow out of (quickly!) is fine.

Speaking of April, I LOVE this version of April, and I love how they switched up the reporter thing a bit with her being super anxious to be on air bc it made way for some character progression. I do tend to prefer her being quite a bit older than the turtles, but I feel like her being a teen like them works in this universe.

Also, I love it when Leo is characterized as a nerd who says cringey/nerdy things sometimes and they delivered on that beautifully here with his speeches. It's veryyy 2k12 Leo vibes. Fucking loved it. Especially loved it when Leo actually had an amazing rousing speech during the Superfly fight scene and then after Raph complimented him on it, Leo started geeking out about how cool he sounded LOL. Obsessed.

"GO NINJA, GO NINJA, GO!" I started screaming when this started playing!! Secret of the Ooze reference let's gooo!

The milking... THE MILKING... the nipples and the milking!! Mikey and Raph got milked!! That running joke killed me. Also, since Mikey got milked first, I couldn't help but compare that to 2k3 when Bishop was going to use a saw to cut into Mikey's carapace while all the other bros had to watch. Althouuugh... ngl, I kinda wish Raph had gone a little more berserk over Mikey getting milked since he's so protective, but I understand they were trying to keep the mood light even though... it was... a torture scene... so uhhh... anyway.

"6 N' THE MORNIN' POLICE AT MY DOOR!!" 😂

"He's molly-whopping me!" LMFAO I was wheezing

All the bros singing BTS for Donnie's sake, and Donnie being like, "You guys don't even know the words..." HAAA

I love it in every iteration when Splinter gets involved to save his boys and this time was no different. Hell yeah feral rat dad!!

Mikey and Mondo Gecko, hell yes!! Bro, when the explosion rocked all the turtles and Mikey was disoriented?? The way his eyes looked after that?? Yeees!

THEIR SHELLS CRACKED 😱😱😱!! That "I'm gonna crack you like pistachios" joke killed me though

WHEN THE NEW YORKERS STARTED HELPING THEM TAKE DOWN SUPERFLY YESSSS LET'S GOOOO!!

Mikey or whoever telling Raph he needed therapy ALSKDJA

All the mutants living in the sewers with the turtles?? Full House vibes!! With Bebop and Rocksteady there idk kinda weird but I guess it works for this version of them.

I could not with their high school fits like 😭 April please take them shopping 😭

All in all, I thought it was super fun and I couldn't stop laughing the entire time. There was still kiiinda more of a Leo focus this time around, but it wasn't nearly as much as the Rise movie, so I'm glad it felt more balanced between each brother (and thank god we didn't have to sit through another Leo vs. Raph type of beef thing).

I think in terms of characterization, Leo was definitely characterized the best and felt IC. I feel like there could've been a bit more development for Donnie, Raph, and Mikey. Donnie had his anime/kpop thing, Raph had his love for violence, and then Mikey... there wasn't anything super defining about him other than maybe the fact that he signed up for the improv team try outs. But honestly, I'm not that mad at it because I'm sure they'll get more fleshed out in the TV show that's coming in the future. Now that they're attending school, I do kinda hope that Donnie takes some kinda robotics/woodworking/science classes because I'd love to see him develop the skills he's always depicted with.

As for my fav, I mean, it should be noted that Mikey is always my guy and that I'm usually going to focus on him the most in every scene, but other than him, I'd say Leo. I also really enjoyed April, Splinter, and Superfly though.