#i should draw more reggie though I miss him............. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heliads · 2 years

Note

sorry sorry, I'm spamming but I had this idea ages ago for a Luke Patterson x reader where the reader is an artist that does cover art for sunset curve promo.

Hear me out on this one; Luke tries to teach the reader how to play guitar and the reader tries to teach Luke how to draw. It doesn't end well, the reader is embarrassed that they can not play an instrument to save their life and Luke is embarrassed that he can't draw something as simple as a dog. But it's that thing where Luke finds it cute that the reader can't play even though they're trying hard and the reader finds it cute that Luke can't draw even though they are trying hard. And it just ends up all cute and mushy and ilysm I'm gonna marry you someday vibes.

i am once again reminding you that i miss jatp with every fiber of my being

masterlist

You are absolutely hopeless. It was one thing to sign up for this sort of job– artist by hour, some sort of after school nonsense that you were fitting in around your courseload so you could try and make at least a little bit of money– but it’s something entirely different to get involved in it like this.

Looking back, there was no reason for you to ever start feeling this way. When Sunset Curve first reached out to you over the opportunity to do the official art for their demo album, you were thrilled. They already had a decent sized following despite just having started, and you’d never created anything half so important as this. That’s how it felt, at least, like you were on the cusp of something new, something brighter than you’d ever experienced before. If only you knew how right you truly were.

It wasn’t just the job that was special, though, it was the people. Sunset Curve is made up of the four funniest, kindest, most amazing boys to ever walk the earth. You’re definitely not biased in that regard, not in the slightest. Reggie Peters cares more than anyone you’ve met before. Alex Mercer looks out for you every single minute of every single day. Bobby Shaw recognizes the potential in everyone who crosses his path.

And Luke? Luke Patterson, who greeted you with the widest smile you’ve ever seen the second he met you? Luke, who really should just be a friend? You couldn’t pin him down to one specific phrase if you tried. Luke is everything– creative, bold, bright, you name it. More importantly, he’s everything to you, but that’s because you happen to harbor a crush on him.

You couldn’t shake the aforementioned crush if you tried, but oh, how you wish you could. It does not do to spend every afternoon over there in Sunset Curve’s studio, pretending you’re sketching new designs for them or doing your homework when in reality you’re just wishing Luke might finally look up from his guitar and finally notice you as something other than a background character to his stellar world.

It’s not like Luke’s an asshole about it, it’s just true. Luke Patterson is so out of your league it’s crazy. Why would he ever look at you as something other than a friend or glorified coworker? Reggie and Alex have teased him enough times about flirting with anything that breathes that you know better than to overthink so much as a smile from him. Just because you happen to think the world of Luke doesn’t mean that he has to do the same thing about you.

That doesn’t stop you from almost losing your mind every time you hang out with the boy, though. In fact, you’re alone with Luke right now, and even though it’s pretty obvious Luke doesn’t take this to be anything other than a chance to spend time with a friend, you’re one accidental brush of hands away from screaming.

You had headed over to the boys’ studio early so you could think about some new designs for their albums, both the demo one and potential future numbers. You were given a key to the place a long time ago; the members of Sunset Curve accepted you with open arms and open doors back when you first started drawing for the band.

Apparently they like having someone else there to force them to actually be productive and make music, but you’re not too sure about that. You swear that you end up talking to the boys for even longer than they manage to distract themselves, although that’s more fun than anything in your book.

So, although you didn’t expect anyone to have issues with you showing up to the studio unannounced, you also weren’t expecting Luke to be there alone. You stand there for a moment, hovering over the threshold, wondering if you should leave or take this as your chance to finally get closer to him.

Luke sees you and spares you from the indecision. “Come on in, Y/N. I’m not doing a whole lot, just practicing.”

You smile at him and step inside. “Technically, if you’re practicing that’s something. I just don’t want to bother you if you’re in a songwriting mood.”

Luke makes a face. “I would love to be in a songwriting mood, but the lyrics just don’t want to come. Please tell me you’re here as a distraction.”

You laugh. “I can be an excellent distraction when I wish, but I’m not all that interesting today. Just trying to get some ideas for a potential album cover.”

Luke watches you excitedly as you reach inside your bag for your sketchbook and some drawing supplies. “Are you kidding? That’s super interesting to me. Tell me, what direction is your grand artistic vision pulling you in now?”

You swat him lightly with your sketchbook. “There’s nothing grand about it, trust me. I’m here because I’m just as stuck as you are. Are you sure your next album can’t just have a completely blank design? Maybe one solid square of color? It would make it a lot easier on me.”

“Absolutely not,” Luke declares, “you’re already robbing us of our hard-earned cash, we at least deserve some designs in the bargain.”

The easy grin on his face tells you that he doesn’t mean a word of it. Luke and the other members of Sunset Curve have made it quite clear that they value your presence, both in art and in friendship. Besides, you have discounts when it comes to people you care about, and the members of this band are certainly that indeed.

“Well,” you smile, “if that’s the case, I’d better get on it.”

Luke watches as you do some thumbnail sketches for potential designs. His eyes never seem to leave your pencil as you shade in piano keys or trace the outline of a guitar.

At last, he breaks his meditative silence to pose a question. “How are you doing that?” He asks plaintively, “Every time I try to draw something, it takes me forever and ends up being a big eraser smudge. When you do it, though, you take two seconds and have a masterpiece.”

“I’ve been doing this for a lot longer than you have,” you remind him, “practice makes perfect, trust me on that. My first so-called masterpieces were just as full of eraser marks as yours.”

Luke harrumphs. “You’re just saying that. Embrace the fact that you’re extremely cool.”

“You’re just as cool as I am,” you counter, “you may be in awe of my art skills, but I think your music is way more impressive.”

Luke’s jaw drops. “No way. Half the time you’re in here, I’m messing up my chords.”

You grin. “That’s not true, and even if it was, that still makes you better than I am. I can’t even remember what a chord is, let alone how to play it right even half the time.”

Luke sits up straight, an idea occurring to him. “You know what? We can fix that. Let’s have a skills session. You teach me art and I’ll teach you music.”

“Just like that?” You ask, doubtful but smiling nonetheless.

“Just like that,” Luke confirms, and after that it’s decided.

Luke reaches over to grab his guitar. He places it on your lap, moving close to you so he can help guide your hands into position. You think your breathing might stop entirely from how it feels to have Luke’s breath hot on your cheek, his fingers wrapped around yours as he teaches you a chord. If you look up slightly, you can see how his face, no, his entire being is angled towards you. It is the most marvelous sight you have ever experienced.

Despite the beauty of the boy teaching you, your own mastery is far less substantial than you’d like. You can feel the shame of it heating up your cheeks as Luke reminds you of what you’re supposed to be learning for the umpteenth time. Watching Sunset Curve practice, you’d always wondered why you never picked up an instrument. This is reminding you of that reason: you’re absolutely awful at it.

Eventually, your desire to seem at least somewhat capable in front of Luke wins out over your need to be so close to him and you carefully put the guitar in his lap.

“I think that’s enough for now,” you whisper, glancing away, “at this point, teaching me music is a lost cause.”

Luke shakes his head. “Hey, don’t feel too discouraged. It took me forever to learn. You wouldn’t believe how awful my fingerpicking was when I first started. You’re blowing my first attempts out of the water by a long shot, trust me.”

You laugh. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

Luke’s eyes are wide and earnest. “No, it’s true. Besides, I see this as an absolute win. If you can’t play the guitar, it means you need me around more often.”

Smiling, you ask: “And is that a good thing?”

“Most certainly,” Luke breathes, and you think you might die just there, watching him look at you like you were worth so much more than you ever thought.

Luke comes to reality first, and looks away quickly, a faint pink blossoming over his cheeks. “If we’re trying to learn how bad we are at each other’s habits, though, I think it’s my turn to fail. It’s time for art lessons.”

You flip to a fresh page in your sketchbook and pass it over. Luke holds the thing reverently, and only through severe coaching do you manage to convince him to actually grip it tight enough to keep the paper steady. He keeps claiming that he doesn’t want to hurt such precious contents, but you think it might also just be a ploy to keep you laughing even just a little longer.

As much as you hate to admit it, Luke’s fears about not being able to pick up drawing might be true. You swear you give him easy subjects to start off, and despite an abundance of furrowed brows and studious expressions, Luke and art do not mix.

At last, he looks up at you desolately and holds up graphite stained hands for you to witness. “See? It’s a losing battle, I swear.”

You bite back a smile. “It’s just like you told me about guitar, isn’t it? All you need is practice.”

You think you wouldn’t mind being there for a few more art practice sessions, either. Something about the way Luke is so devoted to trying to get this right, and all the while watching you draw out examples like you’re a living saint, makes your chest feel so tight that it might burst. You would gladly sink the rest of your afternoons and sunsets into these sorts of moments, walled up in the studio with Luke, losing track of time until you have no idea where your days begin and his end.

Luke must be feeling the same way, because he leans a little closer to you. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I wouldn’t mind more practice sessions with you. We wouldn’t even have to draw or play guitar if you didn’t want to. If you’re alright with that, of course. We could just, you know, hang out.”

The hope in his eyes is only matched by the delight in yours. “I think that sounds great,” you say.

Luke’s face brightens. “Really? I mean, yeah, it would be fun. Maybe we could go get ice cream soon.”

“Tell me a date, I’ll make time,” you reply. You’ll clear your entire schedule if that’s what it takes. This is something that you didn’t see happening in your wildest dreams, and now that it’s real, you don’t plan on giving it up for anything.

Luke lifts a shoulder. “How about Saturday afternoon? We can go anywhere.”

You could gladly spend the rest of the day just talking over the prospect of this date with Luke, but a sound from outside the studio makes you bite your tongue. You can see Alex, Reggie, and Bobby approaching the door– it must be time for the band to have practice.

Luke groans. “They have terrible timing.”

You laugh. “They didn’t know anything was happening, that’s their fault. I know everything I want, though.”

You don’t think Luke’s smiles have ever been brighter than the one he shoots you now. For once, you realize a most welcome truth: all this time that you’ve been pining over Luke, he’s been feeling the exact same way. At last, the two of you have been able to get together, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

jatp tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @caswinchester2000, @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie

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thedeathdeelers · 2 years

Note

📚🔥soulmates🔥📚

\O/

(please and thank yooou)

(3 months later)

SO HAVE I GOT A HALF-THOUGHT OUT (kinda soulmate) AU FOR U

so to start us off, this idea popped into my head when i was listening to an old boys like girls song i used to be obsessed with and these lines just stuck out for some reason:

“I got your little brown shirt in my bottom drawer baby //And your little white socks in the top drawer // You were always leaving your shit around

And gone without a sound

anyway below the cut cause this got long>

luke lives a pretty normal teenage life (if you consider a one track-minded teen who is hellbent on making it in the scene because he knows his band is bound for greatness normal)

he’s never believed in fate or magic or any of that — just the magic of music and its effect on people because he’s felt it and seen it firsthand

ANYWAY

so one day, luke wakes up in his messy room as he does every morning, turns his head to the side — and stops, blinking once, twice, even going as far to rub his eyes because he’s pretty sure he’s awake and not dreaming but — why is there a little purple glittery butterfly clip in his room?

he doesn’t know how it got there, whose it is or why it’s in his room. did reggie do this? did he leave his girlfriend’s clip in luke’s house? it’s obviously a girl’s and he’s confused but..a second layer luke remembers the lyrics to a song that he dreamt about that were about to escape him so he lets it go and reaches for his journal — and forgets.

but then, a few days later, it happens again. this time though, it’s a purple hair ribbon. he asks reggie, and reggie denies having anything to do with it. asks his mom — nope

the next week, a moon necklace shows up. and then a braided friendship barely. a ring.

it’s confusing and he’s worried someone keeps breaking into his room but…nothing he can do about it, right? he thinks about reporting the missing items but…maybe next week

he just makes sure he keeps his songbook on his at all times and he’s good (he ignores that weird feeling in his chest every time his eyes land on an item, or the tingling feeling in his fingers when he reaches out to touch them. it doesn’t make sense, he just needs to go sleep)

it only starts to get even more serious when suddenly he starts seeing faded scribbles show up on his notebook — a handwriting he’s never seen before. they become more legible as the days go by, and he can definitely tell it’s a more feminine style and he’s confused af cause his journal is always with him. it’s under his pillow or hugged against his chest when he’s asleep so HOW

but then he starts reading the actual writing — and…it’s good. it’s solutions to songs he gave up so long ago — additions to song he hasn’t even started writing down

it’s like music is trying to tech out to him and inspire him even more to keep going but — who is she? why is she leaving pieces of herself all over his room?

does he know her? have they met?

should be try to write back and see if he gets a reply?

——

luke is unsure, pen hovering over paper as he considers his slow decent into madness. he shakes his head, close to pulling his hand off the page, when he sees a new faint scribble slowly coming into view in the corner of the page. he watches it as it slowly solidifies, this now familiar purple writing.

he waits for it to clear up, strains his eyes to see what’s there — no words today, just drawings of a microphone and a doodle of a dahlia. he’s seen quite a few of those lately.

taking in a deep breath, luke closes his eyes for a moment as he makes a firm decision.

there was no point delaying the inevitable — he had questions, and there really wasn’t any reason why he couldn’t write down the questions on his journal..:it was his, after all.

putting pen to paper, luke only hesitates for a second before he writes out one simple word:

hey?

he waits…and waits and waits. eventually lets out the air he had been inadvertently holding in, and leans back against the back of his desk chair, head tilted up towards the ceiling. what was he expecting? some weird harry potter shit to pop out and have tom riddle write back to him?

luke shakes his head (again, he’s going to get a crick in his neck if he doesn’t stop), and looks back down, ready to dive into the chorus of sunset curve’s new anthem — when he stops in his tracks when he finds something new waiting on the page for him, just under his chicken scratch greeting.

hello :)

#HAPPY JUKE JEUDI!#sorry for the delay but i did warn you 😂#hope it was worth the wait!!#jatp #my fics #juke #julie and the phantoms

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tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.” He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

#Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #slasher x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #slasher imagines #smut

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sunsetcurvecuddles · 3 years

Note

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming… snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #alex mercer #carrie wilson #ask #joyandthephantoms

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

Text

The Mercer Legacy - Part 4

Pairings: Luke x Reggie x reader, Julie x Flynn x Carrie

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of Reggie’s parents fighting in the edits

A/N: oh man I’m so excited for this chapter. I usually share a lot of bits and pieces with the Ghost Squad while I’m writing but I’ve kept this one under wraps as a surprise! I hope you like it! As always, let me know what you think and drop a comment/send me an ask if you want to be tagged!

Part 3 Masterlist TML Masterlist

___

“Oh, by the way, Julie said her girlfriends are coming to watch practice today,” Alex said, looking up from his phone and you narrowed your eyes at him.

He tucked his drum sticks into the water bottle pocket of his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on you.

“Girlfriends,” you repeated, drawing out the ‘s’ at the end. “As in multiple girlfriends?”

“Yeah, keep up Y/L/N,” Alex said teasingly before realizing why you had questioned it. “I told you you had no reason to be worried.”

When you arrived you were excited to meet Julie’s significant others and also glad to not have to sit alone during practice. However, that excitement quickly turned to surprise when you stepped into the garage.

“Carrie?”

“Oh hey Y/N,” she replied, sounding unphased but you noticed the light pink blush spreading across her cheeks. She hadn’t expected someone else she knew to be there just like you hadn’t/ “What’re you doing here?”

You tilted your head towards where Alex was settling in behind his drumset and Carrie nodded in understanding.

“I should’ve guessed,” she smiled and you were taken aback slightly at how genuine it was, used to her stage smile.

“He and I are going to have a long conversation about sharing information,” you said loud enough for Alex to hear on the other side of the studio, glaring at your best friend who just rolled his eyes in response.

“I know Reggie and Luke too.” You directed your words back to Carrie, glancing over to the two boys for the first time since you’d arrived to find them looking back at you and you tried to fight back the heat rushing to your cheeks. It didn’t seem to stop Carrie from noticing and she smirked knowingly.

“Ahh,” she hummed quietly to herself as if she’d just put something together but you had no idea what it could be.

“What?” You questioned a bit abrasively and you winced at your tone. You just didn’t like that she seemed to know something that you didn’t.

“Nothing, just— and you didn’t hear this from me— Julie said Reggie and Luke haven’t been able to shut up about a girl for weeks. I just didn’t expect it to be you.” Carrie shared in a hushed whisper and you flushed in earnest this time, your throat going dry at the information.

“Hey, Mercer are you gonna introduce me to your girl or?” The girl who you assumed was Julie’s other girlfriend called, thankfully interrupting your conversation with Carrie before you had to come up with a response. She slung her arm around your shoulder as she spoke.

Alex rolled his eyes but hollered back, “Flynn that’s Y/N, Y/N that’s Flynn.”

“I take it you’re the one nobody around here shuts up about?” Flynn asked as she stepped away from you.

“Flynn!” Carrie hissed, eyes flashing.

“What, is that supposed to be some secret?” Flynn replied and you laughed while Carrie rolled her eyes fondly.

“Apparently I am,” you shrugged with a shy chuckle.

Flynn nodded pensively, looking you up and down.

“I get it,” she said finally and you felt yourself blush for the umpteenth time since you arrived.

Carrie rolled her eyes, huffing out a quiet “oh my god.”

“Hey PeterPatter you better hurry up before I steal your girlfriend,” Flynn called to Luke and Reggie over her shoulder and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you right there. Luckily when you chanced a glance at the guys they seemed just as mortified as you, both of their faces beat red as they both pointedly avoided looking at each other or you.

“She’s not-”

“I’m not-”

The three of you blurted at the same time, your heads snapping up to stare at each other with wide eyes. Flynn cackled at that and Carrie smacked her arm, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t catch.

“Wow you guys make it too easy,” Flynn said when she finally stopped laughing, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes.

“Julie, can you please make your girlfriend stop flirting with my best friend,” Alex whined and Flynn flipped him off. “There’re already too many people here who do that,” he added, looking pointedly at Luke and Reggie and you turned to glare at him.

“Fuck you,” you mouthed but he just grinned cheekily.

“In your dreams,” he mouthed back and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“O-kay,” Julie said once she noticed Alex sticking his tongue out at you in response, interrupting the chaos that had consumed the studio. “Why don’t we start practicing.”

The boys nodded hurriedly, settling in behind their instruments while you, Carrie, and Flynn moved to make yourselves comfortable in the various chairs and couch.

“And Flynn? behave,” Julie called at her girlfriend’s back.

Flynn mumbling something petulant under her breath before plopping down on the couch next to Carrie, throwing her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulder and pulling her into her. You did your best to stifle a laugh at the reluctant way that Carrie leaned into her girlfriend, arms crossed over her chest and what may look like an annoyed expression but you could see the fondness in her eyes.

The three of you chatted amicably throughout the band’s rehearsal, you getting to know Flynn and getting to know the “real” Carrie. It was nice, they were nice and you quietly wondered why you hadn’t formed a friendship with Carrie sooner. You’d always been amicable in school, but your social circles never really overlapped so you’d never had a reason to really talk to each other. You wished you had.

Practice flew by quicker than usual in the presence of both good music and good company and before you knew it the band was packing up their instruments and Carrie and Flynn were standing to go talk to their girlfriend. Before she got too far, Carrie nudged you in the direction of the two guitarists and Flynn sent you a sly wink.

You stumbled slightly from the force of Carrie’s push but continued to meander over to the band set up, intentionally avoiding the eyes of your best friend who you were certain was smirking knowingly at you.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Reggie said cheerfully when he glanced up from zipping up his guitar case to see you making your way over. “Luke and I were thinking maybe ice cream now that practice is done? Since you missed out the other day?”

You turned to find Luke nodding in agreement to Reggie’s statement and you smiled, heart warming at the gesture. You were certain that they’d be upset with you after you bailed on them with a shitty excuse the other day but it seemed they still wanted to spend time with you, and for that you were grateful.

“I’d love that,” you agreed, “Is Alex coming with?”

“Um, well, I was kinda hoping it could just be the three of us?” Luke spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “There’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you guys about…”

You nodded thoughtfully, trying to fight back the frown that threatened to take over your face as a pit of worry opened up in your stomach.

“It’s nothing bad! I swear!” Luke rushed to reassure you both as if sensing your worries.

“Okay.” You nodded again, this time more to yourself. “In that case, there’s a conversation I’ve been meaning to have with you both too.”

You weren’t sure why you’d volunteered that. Maybe you had been emboldened by Luke’s statement.

“I have something too but maybe we should wait and talk about it all over ice cream?” Reggie added hesitantly, sounding even more nervous than you felt.

You all agreed, deciding that whatever news you each needed to share with one another would be improved by the presence of ice cream. With your plans settled, Reggie and Luke finished putting away their equipment and you all said goodbye to the rest of the group before setting off.

It was a short walk from the Molina’s to Reggie’s favorite ice cream place and an even shorter trip with Reggie on his skateboard and you on Luke’s bike handles. Normally you’d spend a ride on Luke’s handlebars giggling loudly (or screaming whenever Luke would swerve suddenly in order to scare you) with Reggie skateboarding by your side. This time though you were all silent and you felt like you were buzzing with anxiety over the prospect of confessing your feelings to the two boys.

The three of you were uncharacteristically quiet as you got your ice cream, each of you paying separately rather than the usual fight over who got to pay this time. It made your gut twist, anxiety welling up once more at what Reggie and Luke had to say.

It wasn’t until you were sat around a table that anyone tried to speak up.

“Okay so-“

“Right, well-“

“I just want-“

The tree of you started at the same time before freezing abruptly. You couldn’t help the shocked laugh that bubbled out of you and you flushed at the inappropriateness of it. However, it seemed to break the tense atmosphere that had surrounded you all since you left the studio, Luke and Reggie breaking into laughter of their own.

“I’ll go first,” you volunteered, startled again when you heard the two boys speak in unison with you.

The three of you fell into short-lived laughter once more before you spoke up again, alone this time.

“Seriously, I’ll go first... if that’s alright?”

You thought back to the message you’d sent Alex weeks ago saying that you weren’t ready to have your heart broken like that. You certainly didn’t feel more ready now, but something in you needed to get this out. Heartbreak or not, at least you’d know for sure.

“Ladies first,” Luke acquiesced and you sent him a brief but grateful smile.

“Okay, um...wow this is a lot harder than I thought,” you muttered to yourself, stuttering over your words. “You guys are great guys and amazing friends but-“

“I have a crush on you!” Reggie blurted, cutting you off mid-sentence and you froze, unable to do more than blink at the boy.

“Both of you,” Reggie clarified after a moment before he began to ramble. “And I didn’t want it to change anything between us because you guys are so important to me and it’s totally okay if you don’t feel the same but...”

“But you just had to get it out there,” Luke finished, a knowing look on his face.

“Yeah, how’d you...?” Reggie trailed off, peering curiously at Luke.

“Because I have a crush on you too, you dork,” Luke confessed with a small laugh that sounded less like he thought the situation was funny and more like he was trying to hide how nervous he was. “Both of you.”

Luke and Reggie turned to look at you then, their nerves obvious in their facial expressions and suddenly the atmosphere was tense again.

“I... I-“ you tried to force out the words before cutting yourself off with a groan. “I can’t believe you guys!”

“What?”

“Here I am trying to get the words out and you- you guys cut me off and... and beat me to it! It’s- it’s not fair!”

“You... what?” Luke asked the question again, this time less out of confusion and more disbelief.

“I have a crush on you— both of you— too and I was trying to tell you but,” you gestured wildly about you as if to reference what had just happened. “I guess it doesn’t matter, huh?”

You were grinning by then, completely unbelieving of your luck. You felt breathless with it, the rush of the adrenaline from your confession combined with the euphoria of Luke and Reggie’s reciprocation was enough to make your head spin.

“So, what now?” Reggie asked, looking surprised that you’d made it to this point. You couldn’t blame him, you felt the same way.

“I vote we eat our ice cream before it’s entirely melted and call this our first date.”

You grinned as you watched Reggie and Luke blush but nod eagerly. You couldn’t help it that your cheeky grin slipped into something much sappier and fond as you watched the boys, your boys.

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayenneferburnham @n0wornever @bright-molina @reg-peters @calamitykaty @sunsetcurvecuddles @dream-a-little-bigger-x @bright-patterson

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#jatp #jatp fic #Julie and the phantoms #Julie and the phantoms fic #social media au #Alex mercer #Reggie peters #Luke patterson #Julie molina #Flynn jatp #flynn nolastname #Carrie wilson #peterpatter #peterpatter x reader #Luke x Reggie x reader #triple threat #Julie x Flynn x Carrie

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

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Fifteen people who found out about James, Sirius, and Remus and the one person who never did

To clarify: James, Sirius, and Remus are queerplatonic partners in this case, or QPP's. This means that they're essentially special friends, ones who indulge in physical and emotional connections that are typically thought of as beyond platonic.

ONE: Peter Pettigrew

By fourth year the Marauders are legends. Everyone knows them as the fun-loving band of brothers without any cares in the world. Only the four of them know the true nature of the Marauders - bloody, battered, and bruised.

One day Sirius and James are fighting, an explosive sort of argument where Peter hides behind his curtains while peeking out through a crack in them and Remus reads calmly on his bed. Then suddenly the shouting stops, and Peter’s jaw drops open while Remus looks up from his book.

There, in the middle of the room, are Sirius and James, Sirius’ hands on James’ face and his mouth on his lips. Sirius pulls away before James can respond, covering his mouth with his hands and tearing up while James blinks in shock and Peter stares.

Then, Remus starts laughing, and James drags Sirius into a crushing hug, pressing kisses all over his face before finally pecking him on the mouth and then letting go. Peter squeaks out a garbled question when Remus rolls his eyes and says, “What, no love for me?”

Immediately, Sirius and James tackle him onto the bed, the three of them collapsing into a mess of laughter and kisses while Peter stares and stares and stares.

TWO: Marlene McKinnon

In an act of drunken desperation to forget her own confusing sexuality (girls are super hot but the idea of being in love makes me wanna throw up, for reference), Marlene flirts with Sirius at a party. His eyes are dark and alluring and he’s addicted to dancing, so it’s not exactly difficult. But just as her hand snakes up his arm, Remus appears, wrapping himself around Sirius and kissing him happily, Sirius melting against him.

Marlene steps back in her shock, creating just enough room for James to stumble over tipsily and start making fun of Sirius’ ears; that is until Sirius leans down and kisses him too just to shut him up, pulling back with a laugh so loud it rings in Marlene’s ears as she runs for the comfort of Dorcas, who simply smiles and slips her hand through Marlene’s blonde curls and kisses her until she can’t feel anything anymore.

THREE: Minvera Mcgonogall

In fifth year, Mcgonogall is awoken by a bawling James Potter at her door, sobbing uncontrollably and blubbering about something she can’t really understand. Eventually he calms down enough that she manages to get that he’s upset because he just found out that Sirius and Remus are dating.

Mcgonogall is terribly confused - haven’t the three of them been dating for years?

“No,” James says. “We’re just friends. Friends who kiss and love each other more than anything but aren’t in love with each other. I know… I know that doesn’t really make sense. I’m just… I’m just scared that since they’re boyfriends, or whatever, they won’t… they won’t…”

Mcgonogall opens her mouth to respond when Sirius’ voice cuts through the chaos -

“Won’t what? Love you? Because if you think that my being in love with Moony means I’m going to stop snogging you at every available opportunity then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought, Jamie.”

James looks up with a grin even as the tears still stream down his face, taking in the sight of a grinning Sirius and Remus, whose hands are tightly clasped between them. Mcgonogall watches, blinking in shock, as James bounds over to them and laughs as Sirius dips him in a kiss and Remus rolls his eyes.

“Come on, you morons,” he says, dragging them away as Sirius tries and fails to kiss him silly, laughing.

FOUR: Severus Snape

Sixth year is when shit first hits the fan. The Prank is a tear in their carefully cultivated tapestry, one that sends all three of them exploding in different directions. Severus is on his way to the infirmary for some more dreamless potion from Madam Pomfrey (and to check on Remus after the traumatic mindfuck that was last night’s full moon) when he sees the shitshow begin.

Remus is lying in a hospital bed, confined by bandages and fatigue but looking no less terrifying as he bites insult after insult towards Sirius. (The only one of these Severus remembers is “I thought you loved me, asshole!”, and only because Sirius had fled the room in tears after it was spoken.) James tries to sit down at Remus’ bedside, but before he can Remus breaks down in tears.

James reaches out to hold him, but Remus shoves him away, screaming until James leaves, his head hanging low in defeat. Severus approaches carefully, holding out one of his bottles of dreamless sleep.

“Here,” he says softly. “So you can forget, for a little while.”

Remus looks up at him and smiles weakly.

“Thanks,” he rasps, and Severus leaves with a nod, deciding it’s better to quit while he’s ahead.

FIVE: Lily Evans

Despite all of the horror of the Prank, it is less disastrous than one might think. There is a war coming; Severus has sworn to Remus himself that he will never tell and has also started searching for the cure for lycanthropy while he’s at it (not that he’s found it; he never will); and Sirius Black and Remus Lupin love each other more than words can say and will no matter the consequences, everybody knows that.

And Lily, she misses Severus - no one else understands that, but she does. She loves him.

She’s studying with Remus one day, their backs against the wall and knees to their chests, and ends up asking him how Severus is doing, eventually winding them down a conversational path about lost love and finding hope anyway. Remus, however, collapses into tears talking about Sirius and how much he misses him and loves him, still.

Lily doesn’t know what to do; Remus Lupin does not cry, at least not in front of anyone. Before she can panic too badly about it though, James is there, on his knees in front of Remus and whispering quietly to him, taking his hands and kissing his knuckles in between murmurs of affection. Sirius stands behind him, hands clenching in and out of fists as he tries desperately not to touch, but that only lasts a few moments before Remus is laughing through his tears, making grabby hands for Sirius.

Sirius squats down hesitantly, gently wrapping his arms around Remus, who pulls him down by the neck and jaw and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him as James smiles tiredly, passerbys whoop and stare, and Lily looks at James and feels her heart flutter in her chest. He smiles at her, and she flushes, then stands and heads for the opposite corner, where Severus is leaning against the wall, his nose in a book.

No words are needed between them. She pulls him in by the tie, and there’s a single feeble whoop for them, too - Lily smiles at the sound of James’ voice, hope sparking in her chest as her eyelids flutter closed.

SIX: Regulus Black

Regulus, struggling under his parents’ stifling regime alone since Sirius left, can’t say he’s not shocked when Sirius drags him up to a Marauders sleepover in the Gryffindor dorms one night. Peter isn’t there - Remus says he’s staying with a Hufflepuff named Max he’s into - but Remus, Sirius, and James all gravitate towards one bed, Remus lying on his back with James’ head on his stomach, running his fingers lazily through James’ curls.

Sirius beams at the sight of them and jumps in beside them, and James leans up and pecks Sirius on the mouth, who smiles. Regulus’ heart twinges at the sight - his brother has so much more love than he does, and Regulus won’t deny that he’s always been just a little bit in love with James Potter - but then James smiles at him with those twinkling eyes and Regulus’ heart calms.

Sirius draws him close by the hand, pulling him into his side and kissing the top of his head. They laugh and wrestle and joke around until eventually Remus falls asleep in James’ arms, and James is not long to follow. Regulus lies awake long after, nestled into Sirius’ side, the silence comforting like a warm blanket. Until Sirius murmurs, “I love you, Reggie,” and drifts off, and Regulus is left staring at the ceiling, alone.

He knows, Sirius’ hand over his heart, that this is his brother’s way of saying goodbye.

SEVEN: Hope & Lyall Lupin

“Criminals” is not a word Lyall Lupin would use to describe Sirius Black and James Potter, but maybe it should be. Because they break into his house on Christmas Eve the boys’ seventh year, the moon already rising in the sky. Lyall tries to stop them, but Sirius Stupefies him with cold eyes and transforms into a hulking dog right then and there, trotting down the basement stairs as James follows, breaking Remus’ chains with his human hands and ushering him out the door before taking his stag form.

Lyall and Hope watch in shock from the kitchen as Remus turns and Sirius and James tame him easily, the wolf nuzzling them like old friends. By morning, they are still out in the yard, the sun rising, now fully human. At first Lyall worries for his son’s modesty, but Sirius has already wrapped his shirt around Remus’ waist, and Remus, barechested in the sun, is holding James’ head to his, muttering in Welsh as James tries desperately to breathe, apologizing over and over for a gash on Remus’ chest put there by his antlers. Remus smiles, and Sirius hums a Queen song under his breath, and Lyall can’t hear everything his son is saying but he catches just enough -

“Mae'n iawn, fy nghariad. Shhh, annwyl.” (It's alright, my love. Shhh, dearheart.)

EIGHT: Albus Dumbledore

The news that Regulus has died comes on a Wednesday. Dumbledore is the one to deliver it, with a heavy heart and a heavier theory in his head. He notices that James is there, in Sirius and Remus’ home, but does not question it, only offering the story of the Horcruxes to Sirius, who sits on the couch. As the words pour out, dry and frail, Sirius’ face pales to ghostly white. Remus emerges from the kitchen with tea just as the final phrase leaves Dumbledore’s lips -

“Your brother died a hero.”

The tea clatters to the floor as Sirius reaches for his wand on the table, pointing it towards his head and getting out “Avada -” before James and Remus are on him, James wrenching his wand away while Remus locks Sirius in his arms, gently coaxing him down onto the floor and rocking him back and forth as he breaks down. James returns from hiding the wand and wraps himself around the both of them, breaking down with Sirius and pressing tearful kisses to every inch of skin he can find. Remus looks up at Dumbledore with glassy eyes and says -

“Please take your leave, Professor.”

Dumbfounded, Dumbledore does.

NINE: Dorcas Meadowes

Dorcas has lived with Marlene since school - Dorcas was in love with her, and Marlene liked sex and liked Dorcas in a “we can be best-friend-partner-lovers forever, mkay?” way. But no one else can understand that - the fact that they’re physically intimate but not a couple, that they’re married by law and spirit but not in love, that’s not something anybody gets. So when Marlene dies, Dorcas locks herself in their home, for grief and madness alike.

One day, Sirius comes to visit her. She doesn’t know why - Lily is about to have a baby, Voldemort is specifically targeting the Potters, their husband Snape is a fucking spy, and Remus is undercover amongst the wolves. All this and there’s a traitor in their midst - Sirius has no business visiting a grieving woman when there’s a war on.

But war there is, and visit he does.

Dorcas makes him tea, and they converse quietly about Marlene for a time. It’s when Sirius’ apology comes that she snaps -

“You can’t possibly understand what it’s like to lose her. She’s - she was my everything. My other half, a part of me, my - my wife. Not just a friend but not a lover… well, not in anything but the physical sense anyway, but - she was my life.”

Sirius stands, throwing his hands out to the side.

“You think I don’t understand?” He says, laughing and running a hand through his hair. He blinks back tears, then thrusts his left hand her way. “I know exactly what you’re feeling. That grief, that fear, I - I feel that every day.”

Dorcas shakes her head, batting his hand away.

“Remus is the love of your life, not your - your, I don’t know, partner? You can’t -”

“James,” Sirius interrupts, desperately, and Dorcas shuts up. “Jamie. My Jamie. Well - Remus and I’s Jamie, really.”

He smiles - a broken, broken thing.

“I understand, see?” He says, twisting his wedding ring around so instead of a moon it shows a black set of antlers. “See? I know. I understand. I do.”

Dorcas stares, quietly, and then starts laughing. It’s a foreign, unwelcome sound, and Sirius reels back in shock. They stand there, opposing each other, until suddenly the laughs ebb out into sobs, and Sirius pulls her to his front and doesn’t let go.

TEN: Mary MacDonald

The day Harry is born, Severus isn’t even there. He’s deep into Voldemort’s forces by now, only holding contact with Dumbledore out of necessity, and James and Lily are both exhausted, missing their husband with a newfound intensity and knowing Voldemort wants to kill their newborn son. Sirius and Remus are there, Mary too, and as Lily sleeps with Harry on her chest and Mary holds her hand, Sirius and James fight.

Loudly.

(In the hallway, of course, but still.)

Remus is helpless in between them - Mary hears very little of what is actually said. Bits and pieces here and there -

“You can’t protect him by -”

And “We need you, dipshit!”

And “I swear to fucking Merlin, Jamie -”

But nothing really solid. She watches through the window as they scream, until suddenly Remus reaches out and pulls James into a kiss. Mary drops Lily’s hand in shock, and watches with a gaping mouth as Remus lets go of James to pull Sirius into him, kissing him passionately and without reserve. Finally, when he pulls away, he glares at the two men and seethes something just loud enough for her to hear -

“Listen up, you idiots. That child needs our protection. That means hiding. We know fuck all about the future but this is war. Our baby is not gonna die because the people who love him can’t let him go.”

Sirius and James both nod sagely, James leaning in to peck Remus on the mouth - “Sorry, Remy.” - before he wanders back inside the hospital room. Outside, Remus collapses into Sirius’ arms, the two of them holding each other and rocking back and forth. James looks up at Mary from the other side of Lily’s bed and smiles wryly.

“Shit, huh?” He mutters, and Mary, speechless, nods.

ELEVEN: Fleamont & Euphemia Potter

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter go into hiding when James and Lily do, knowing they could be tortured for their whereabouts despite not knowing them. Remus comes bursting through their fireplace on Halloween, covered in cuts and bruises and coughing with baby Harry cradled against his chest. Through hacking breaths and with glassy eyes, he tells them their son is dead with his wife and Sirius has been arrested for their murder, along with Peter’s and some Muggles’. He kisses their foreheads and tells them to take care of themselves, leaving with the last words he ever says to them -

“I loved your son. So did Sirius. We - I will do everything I can to protect Harry. I promise.”

He disappears through the fireplace before they can respond, leaving them to grieve.

TWELVE: Walburga & Orion Black

After leaving Harry with Dumbledore, who assures him the child will be given to the custody of his living father as soon as he’s emerged from his undercover work (a lie, Remus later learns), Remus makes his way to Regulus’ grave. There’s no body there, of course, but Remus never got to say goodbye to the boy he considered something of a son, and he figures now, when he’s lost everything, is as good a time as any.

It turns out he’s not alone - Walburga and Orion Black, not yet locked up in Azkaban for their crimes, are there already, and spit in his face for daring to grieve their son when he’s a werewolf who supposedly turned their other one queer and heady. Remus stares them down, and in a calm voice with his hands in his pockets tells them -

“I loved Regulus like a brother. As for Sirius… well, he married two blokes. Oh -” He smirks. “And he was damn good in bed, too.”

Walburga lets out a shrill scream, turning her wand on Remus, and he holds his head high as he disarms both her and her husband and promptly kills the two people who made his husband’s life a living hell for sixteen years. As he stands there, staring at their still-warm bodies and always-cold eyes, he can feel no remorse - only a deep ache, loss and regret plaguing him with age long before his time.

THIRTEEN: Molly & Arthur Weasley

Twelve years pass without so much as a breath from Sirius or Remus. James is six feet under and Harry is thirteen, and after the havoc that occurs at Hogwarts his third year, they settle at Grimmauld Place, together. Molly and Arthur are tasked with bringing them essentials and information, and take notice of the fact that the two rarely leave each other’s sides. They’re wearing their wedding bands, which Molly does not fail to notice are marked with antlers as well as moons and pawprints, and Remus has another ring around a chain on his neck with only a pawprint and a moon. They look tired and worn out, Sirius more than Remus, and one day Molly pulls him aside to ask him privately if they’re doing alright.

Remus gives her a wry smile, his eyes twinkling just the slightest bit as he answers, “Yes. Of course.” Molly asks him again, saying she’s worried, and Remus shrugs, looking through doorways to Sirius, at the table with Arthur.

“I’ve had twelve years to grieve. Getting Sirius - getting my husband back was the greatest happiness I could ever ask for. But Sirius, he… he was never allowed to truly mourn. He’s still…”

He gets this distant look in his eyes and startles when Molly touches his arm, offering a small smile.

“I’ve had time to grieve our partner, is all I’m saying,” he murmurs. “Sirius needs time before he can even begin to forgive himself for what happened to James.”

Molly keeps her shock inward, squeezing Remus’ arm once before ushering her husband out the door. Watching from outside as Grimmauld Place folds back into itself, she thinks she sees two silhouettes in the window, melting into one.

FOURTEEN: Nymphadora Tonks

Nymphadora Tonks falls in love with Remus Lupin almost the moment she meets him. He’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s kind and smart and brave - what else could you want? And she thinks he likes her too - even if her cousin is desperately in love with him, which she would have to be blind not to see. But she knows this the way she knows the rhythm of her heartbeat in her chest - Remus Lupin was born to be hers.

So imagine her surprise when his response to her confession is to shake his head and laugh.

“I’m a married man, Dora,” he drawls, standing and flashing his ring towards her around a glass of whiskey. “I thought you knew that. I am sorry to say I cannot return your feelings… beyond my marriage, age, and lycanthropy, you must have noticed that women are not… my area.”

Tonks flushes red, jerking back in shock. So her cousin…

“Is it Sirius?” She blurts, and Remus turns towards her again, his eyes twinkling. He nods.

“Yes,” he answers. “Though, I had a second husband… long ago, and a partner more than anything…”

With a distant look in his eyes, he leaves her heartbroken at the dining room table, but not before she sees him slip into a waiting Sirius’ arms, holding him close to his chest as they dance, their eyes closed and two rings bearing antlers hanging between them.

FIFTEEN: Hermione Granger

She starts to wonder, right around the beginning of her fifth year, why Harry seems to have no interest in hanging out with anyone besides her and Ron. Now, she and Ron, they’re in love with each other; Hermione’s neither daft nor blind. But Harry’s in love with them both too, she realizes, and his closest relationships outside of that are past platonic but far from romantic: she can’t call what he has with Luna or Draco “normal”. The summer before her sixth year, she travels to Grimmauld Place, needing some time alone to think before the war envelopes them all. But she finds, when she arrives, that she’s not alone - there, at the dining room table, is Remus, holding a glass of whiskey and wearing three identical rings on a chain around his neck.

“Professor Lupin?” She asks, and Remus smiles wryly. “What’re you doing here?”

Remus sighs, leaving his glass on the table as he stands and grabs his coat.

“Just a bit of reminiscing, my dear,” he says. “No matter. Off we go now, this place belongs to Harry and we have no right to…”

He trails off, his eyes glistening, and Hermione watches his Adam’s apple bob and averts her eyes to the rings, each holding a different two of three symbols: a pawprint, a moon, and a pair of antlers. One of them is the one Sirius used to wear around, always a little loose on his finger from all that malnourishment… Remus must have just grasped it before he fell through the Veil. At the thought, her breath catches in her throat.

“Sirius was your…” She says, and stops when Remus flinches. He gives her a kind smile and nods.

“Yes,” he says. “And James as well, though that was different. More of a… friend, partner - soulmate? -” Hermione coughs. “- than a lover. But, yes. Not that it matters now.”

Hermione’s heart stops in her chest.

“Of course it matters,” she fires back. “You loved him. You loved him, and he’s dead.”

Remus looks down at her, his smile gone, and shrugs.

“All things end, Hermione,” he murmurs. “Especially good things.”

He opens the door and has one foot outside when he turns back to her and says, “Miss Granger?” She looks up at him from her hands, shaking and devoid of rings, and nods.

“Yes?”

Remus smiles, his eyes sad.

“Tell your Harry we love him. All seven of the Marauders, even if some of us never really got to meet him. And tell him… tell him that even if he didn’t die for him or raise him, his father loves him.”

Hermione’s brow furrows, but she nods.

“Of course,” she promises, though she has no idea who the other three Marauders are and could not even begin to guess what Remus means by his comment on Harry’s father. “I will.”

Remus smiles one last time, tips his invisible hat to her, and disappears out the front door and into the night.

ONE: Harry Potter

Remus marries Tonks, but doesn’t love her. Teddy is an accident, and only his in name. Remus will only ever have one son, and his name is Harry Potter.

In the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin dies with three rings around his neck and a secret in his chest. He does not tell Harry. He doesn’t want to burden him.

Their love, along with them, is dead and gone anyway. But when he sees Sirius and James in the white light, for the split second between life and death -

He wonders.

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adhd-disaster-willie · 4 years

Text

you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 5/6

chapter 1, 2, 3, 4

warnings: swearing

word count: 2,757

notes: okay so this update took a while because I’ve been busy with school and writers block has been kicking my ass, but I think it’s worth it :)))

---

It was established in August that at least once a month, Alex will receive a phone call informing him to be at Julie’s house in ten minutes for a mandatory slumber party. It’s endearing sure, but he would like some sort of warning other than Luke calling him and saying that if he doesn’t show up as soon as possible, he’ll paint his drumsticks neon green. So that’s how Alex ends up sitting cross legged on Julie’s bed, putting Reggie’s hair into a bunch of tiny braids and watching The Princess Diaries for what’s probably the hundredth time.

“Lilly is definitely a lesbian,” Flynn says through a mouthful of popcorn.

Alex hums in agreement and Julie nods. “If only this movie weren’t made in 2001,” Julie says mournfully.

“Y’know I always thought that Joe was gay,” Alex admits. “Up until he dances with the queen.”

Reggie attempts to look up at Alex, earning an offended squeak from the latter. “Really?”

“Yes, now will you please stay still, I only have one more left.”

“Ok but there is no way Mia’s mom is straight!” Flynn says.

Julie seems to mull it over for a bit. “She does live in an old fire station. And artists are never straight.”

“Yea, like Willie!” Luke pipes up, sitting up from his position hanging halfway off the bed. “Willie’s not straight.”

“We should start a betting pool on how long it takes for Luke to bring up Willie,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. He ties off Reggie’s final braid and pats his head approvingly. “You look like a real princess.”

“Do I?” Reggie grins up at him with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and Alex chuckles.

“No subject changing,” Luke protests. “How’s Willie doing?”

“Still a pining idiot,” Flynn answers with a cheeky smile.

“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Alex shoves at Luke’s face and slides down off the bed to sit on the floor beside Reggie.

“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” Luke points out. He leans down so his head is hanging off the edge of the bed and smirks mischievously at Alex, who is pointedly refusing to look at him. “Aleeeex,” Luke whines. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“Alice, please,” Flynn says. Alex shoots her a look seeping with betrayal and Flynn raises their hands defensively. “I haven’t seen Carrie in a few days!” They protest. “I need drama.”

“Drama?” Alex asks. “Or blackmail material?”

Flynn shrugs, which only serves to cement what Alex was thinking. “Yea, nope. It’s not like anything has even happened since-” He cuts himself off, realizing his mistake and preparing for the onslaught of questions.

“Since!?” Luke cries. “Since what?!” He grabs Alex’s face roughly and looks at him with wide eyes. “Since what, Alex?”

“Nothing!” Alex squeaks, wrenching himself from Luke’s grasp. “Nothing! It was- let go of my fanny pack! Julie stop filming!!!” Alex swats at Luke’s hands and attempts to leap forward to grab Julie’s phone, but ultimately fails.

“I’ll let go if you tell me,” Luke teases in a sing song voice, his grin only growing the more Alex fights.

“Fine! If you just- sorry Reg the puppy-dog eyes only work on Luke and Bobby.” Reggie sighs in disappointment and Alex finally manages to get Luke off of him, huffing angrily and brushing nonexistent dust from his hoodie. “You’re a barbarian,” he mutters.

“Well?”

Alex responds to Julie’s prompting with a long-suffering sigh. “You have to promise not to make fun of me,” he says. They don’t promise. The movie is long forgotten as Alex’s friends gather around him, looking all too fascinated by his latest embarrassment. “He well… don’t laugh, ok. He wore a crop top last week and I tripped on my own feet and scraped up my knees.”

Flynn raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh, there’s more, spill.”

Alex groans, burying his face in his hands. “They got all worried and started putting bandaids on my knees and I almost fainted. Then- please don’t make me say this,” Alex pleads, looking to Julie as if she’s his last hope. She shakes her head. “When they finished lecturing me I just looked at him and said ‘nice shirt’ and ran off. Nice shirt??? What is wrong with me?”

“Wait a minute,” Julie says, gesturing for Alex to pause. “You just… ran off? Where?”

Alex doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll paint your drumsticks if you don’t tell us,” Luke threatens. The difficulty is that Alex doesn’t doubt him one bit, and knows that Julie has a healthy supply of paint in a drawer just a few feet away from Luke.

Alex mumbles something under his breath and Reggie pokes him.

“Sorry what was that? Speak up.”

“Orange, I’ll paint them the ugliest shade of orange ever.”

“I went and hid in my closet!” Alex blurts. “For like an hour. I am never going to live that down.”

“That’s… incredibly ironic,” Julie laughs.

“I’m telling that story at your wedding.”

“Reginald, don’t even think about it!” Alex kicks Reggie lightly and raises his hand to flip off the other three, who are all dying of laughter. “I hate all of you. I need new friends.”

“Good luck with that.” Flynn pats Alex’s head; he can practically hear their stupid smirk.

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

---

Alex wakes up with his foot in Luke’s face, one arm thrown over Julie, his face in Reggie’s neck, and a very giggly Flynn perched on the end of the bed taking pictures. He sits up and murmurs sleepily, squinting in the oddly hazy room.

It’s gray and gloomy outside, quite fitting for mid-November, but far from Alex’s ideal weather. He’s always been partial to spring, when it’s not too hot and not too cold and not always cloudy and sad.

Flynn hops off the bed and onto Julie’s chair, where she spins a couple times before turning her phone to show Alex. “This is gonna be my new lockscreen,” they giggle. Alex stares at the photo, baffled as to how his arm was bent like that.

Breakfast is heaps of pancakes and fresh coffee (bless you, Ray) that for a moment, Alex considers just dumping over his head. Julie is curled around Luke for warmth throughout the whole morning and Flynn makes a point to gag at least once every 5 minutes. Alex knows she’s happy for them though, they finally got their act together a little over a week ago and at least this is better than the pining. Alex doesn’t say that though, because it will only get him a lecture on how he is not one to talk about pining.

Alex almost thanks a god he doesn’t believe in anymore when the rain outside doesn’t seem to make any moves into thunderstorm territory. Willie hates thunderstorms. He stays cocooned in a blanket until noon, but eventually Tía Victoria shoos them all out, claiming that Julie will never finish her homework with them all glued to her.

Alex is sopping wet when he finally arrives at his dorm, sadly no car can go right up to the entrance of the dorms. The first thing Alex notices when he walks in is the candles, and the second thing is the haphazardly thrown together fort in the middle of the room, which he narrowly avoids tripping over. “Willie?” He asks, lifting what he assumes to be the entrance and raising an eyebrow at Willie, who is grinning at him and shining a flashlight in his face.

“Ok, get that out of my eyes.” Alex clamps a hand over the light and Willie sticks his tongue out. “Did the power go out?” Alex asks, worry etching over his face. He can’t have all their food being ruined, with Alex living off his coffee shop job and Willie off of the occasional commission and odd check from his eccentric uncle.

Willie shakes their head. “Nope.”

“So why the… candles?”

“It’s fun!” Willie pulls Alex into the fort, stumbling back and just barely evading them toppling over each other into a quite compromising position. Willie presses his back against the couch and pats the space next to him. “It’s like you’re a little kid again.”

“Luke used to love making forts,” Alex admits. “We would move all the furniture in his living room and make the absolute worst blanket forts you can imagine. Like seriously, it’s no wonder none of us went into architecture.”

“Really? I can totally see you as an architect”

“That’s…”

“I’m joking, hotdog,” Willie giggles, bumping their shoulder together. He has a tendency to raise his eyebrows when he’s amused; Alex finds it all too endearing. Accompanied with the way their eyes crinkle when the laugh and the soft candlelight leaking through the thin blankets and draping over his features, Alex thinks he’s having trouble breathing.

“I was drawing you, y’know,” Willie says softly after a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?”

“The day we went stargazing, I was drawing you. You’re- you’re a good muse.”

“Oh.” Alex’s stomach flutters. “I uh… thank you.” He gives Willie a hesitant smile before turning to focus on the flickering light. His breath feels weighted, like every exhale means something, but he can’t quite pinpoint what. There’s a light breeze whistling through the crack in the door and Alex closes his eyes for a moment, pretending that it’s wrapping around him and holding him close. Alex didn’t get much affection as a child; his parents had always been very stiff. Sure, they loved him, but they weren’t that good at showing it aside from a rough shoulder squeeze and tight smiles so full of expectations. When he came out, even the snippets of affection faded; no more of his mother fixing his hair or giving him a quick kiss on the forehead when he was sick. Two months after his coming out, they just… kicked him out. He came home to find his belongings shoved carelessly into a trash bag or two and that was that. Luke more than made up for the lack of physical affection, but Alex knows that there will always be something missing.

Wide awake, Alex lets his head fall onto Willie’s shoulder. This time with care and attention, hesitancy. He hears Willie suck in a sharp breath but then the tension melts from their shoulders and fizzles into nothingness. For a moment, there is nothing but them and the pattering of rain against the windows.

“Lets go for a drive.”

Alex looks up expecting Willie’s usual carefree and impish grin, but he’s taken aback by his wistful expression and something bursts in Alex’s chest. Something that may be instinct and may be just an overwhelming surge of emotion.

“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, a single wisp of smoke snaking from a blown out candle.

The air is damp and the rain is coming down hard; Alex reaches a cautious hand out beyond the awning and winces at the downpour. But Willie is wiggling his stupid eyebrows in the way that makes Alex’s face heat and he can’t say no as Willie drags him through the wet grass, shrieking with laughter and going slower than necessary to relish in the water pouring down from the sky in torrents. They’re soaked to the bone and breathless, overflowing with mirth, by the time they reach Alex’s car and clamber into the seats. Right after a brief argument about who’s driving of course. (“You will not be touching my steering wheel with your grimy paint hands, William.” “Says you.”) So Alex is driving.

Willie has their hands pressed to the window, breath fogging up the glass and sending them into a fit of giggles every time. Alex switches on the radio and there’s a song playing that he recognizes but couldn’t sing along to; something soft and low, like lilting waves. Willie knows it though. And they’re singing. Oh. They’re singing. Alex almost has to pull the car to a stop and put his head in his hands because Willie never told him he could sing.

Willie’s voice is low and slightly raspy, but not in a bad way. Alex knows he’s heard this song before, but he’s 100% certain that this is his first time really hearing it. And it’s beautiful. Or maybe it’s just Willie. It’s probably just Willie.

Alex brings the car to a slow stop in the parking lot of an odd gas station that always seems to be closed. He doesn’t turn it off though, because he would rather die than have Willie stop singing. He leans his head back and breathes, certain he’s inhaling Willie’s voice. Willie’s voice which is like sparks on his skin, like smoke that crowds his lungs and opens his soul for the very first time. He feels a sense of mourning when the song stops and something else comes on, something peppier and sickeningly sweet. He switches the radio off.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alex isn’t even looking at them; he’s fiddling nervously with the strap of his fanny pack.

Willie smirks proudly. “You learn something new every day.”

“Yea.”

Willie traces a heart in the fog on the window and lets it sit there. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and pokes Alex’s shoulder. “Hey ‘Lex, come on.”

“No.” Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No. We’re already soaking wet and-”

“Hot dog.”

And damn it, the nickname may be so incredibly stupid but Alex has such a weird soft spot for it. He groans dramatically, making a point to wring out his hair, which is already mostly dry at this point. “You’re the worst. What if it starts thundering?”

Willie shrugs. “I have my noise cancelling headphones. And you can-” they cut themself off.

“I can what?”

“Nothing,” Willie squeaks. “Please. Please.”

So Alex climbs reluctantly from the car and stands in the parking lot looking far from amused. “You owe me.”

Willie laughs loudly, grabbing both of Alex’s hands and spinning him in an aimless circle, pulling them both into a dance to music that’s only in his head. They twirl Alex around several times, and Alex is certain that he’s going to actually fall over and faint. Willie raises his face to the sky and squints, letting the rain soak him without care. Alex is in awe and how open and free Willie is, like nothing can ever go wrong and if it does they’ll always be flying. He doesn’t realized they’ve stopped dancing until Willie turns to him with a curious expression. Their eyes rake over his face and Alex realizes he’s staring. But for once, he doesn’t look away. And for the first time, he sees the corner of Willie’s mouth quirk up and their eyes flick to his lips and even linger there for a brief second.

The rain doesn’t seem to have plans to stop anytime soon, and they’re both shivering and wet and Willie’s hair is dangling in front of his face. Alex reaches out and tucks it behind his ear, both of them holding a breath, waiting. It’s right there, right in front of him, and Alex is inches from just grasping it and clutching it to his chest. Willie takes a step forward so their faces are just inches from each other and Alex can feel their breath against his cheeks. He exhales shakily and raises one hand to cup Willie’s cheek, his touch feather light and afraid. Willie leans into the contact and grins upwards, their nose wrinkling fondly. He gives a silent nod and for the first time in years, Alex takes the plunge.

Their first kiss is soft and slow and Willie tastes like rain and green tea. Alex smiles against their lips, a breathy laugh escaping his own. He’d think this is a dream, but no section of his imagination could conjure something even a fragment as magical as this. They’re in the middle of a parking lot, cold and wet, and yet Alex feels the warmest he ever has. Alex is hesitant to pull away, but he does, just barely. Their foreheads stay resting against each other, like breaking apart would break them. Then it comes crashing into him. Alex just kissed Willie. He just kissed Willie. And Willie kissed him back! Holy shit!

“Wowza.” Wowza? What the fuck Alex?

Willie breaks into joyous laughter, throwing his head back and clutching Alex’s shoulders. And Alex laughs with him; he buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, his heart full to bursting. Wowza indeed.

---

notes: ...I did say I was thinking about a Willex rain kiss. I actually wrote like half of chapter 6 a while ago so I might be able to post it tomorrow.

chapter 6

taglist: @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby @over-under-through1 @willex-n-waffles @caliibee @stars-soph @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @nickalicious @andwhenwepart @maizsnex @fanofthepod @heademptynothoughts @thunderstorm-symphony @julieandthephantomsandme @i-spit-on-fire

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #willex #willex fic #ytotbts #you're the one that brings the sun #willow writes #willie jatp #willie nolastname #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie molina #reggie peters #luke patterson #flynn jatp #flynn nolastname

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thephantomchronicles · 2 years

Note

for juke: “whose blood is that?” + “i got you, it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay”

prompt list here

ao3 link here

Luke stepped back as the demon went up in flames, panting hard. He and Julie had come up a nest and even though they’d called for reinforcements, everyone else seemed to be a bit too far, so they were doing everything they could while they waited.

He could hear Julie’s whip lashing through the air somewhere around him and that was reassuring enough that she was doing okay, but he didn’t know how long they could actually keep this up for. He swiftly moved through the alley, avoiding a tail that came out of nowhere and kicking a smaller demon away.

He’d started getting tired. It was already too late and those weren’t their first demons for the night. The city would occasionally see random surges in demon activity that would exhaust them and they’d just have to hope they weren’t foreshadowing some bigger threat. Luke wouldn’t consider himself a lucky person all together, but it’d be nice if it started right about now.

And then right on cue, an arrow came flying through the air, hitting one of the demons getting closer to him and Luke could finally breathe again. They could finally be done with this and go back home.

Somehow he still found his way back to Julie through everything now that he knew Reggie had his back and he could hear more and more of their friends joining the fight. Julie hadn’t slowed down for a second either, but her reaction times were getting slower and slower and she eventually fell back into Luke when the place started to clear and the others handled the rest of the mess.

“Woah, hey, I got you,” Luke said, wrapping his arm around her to keep her up.

Julie smiled faintly although was still panting from the fight. “Thanks,” she breathed out. “Just, one small thing,” she added before falling even further into him.

Luke stumbled a bit, trying to make sure they didn’t both fall down, until he noticed her hand was covered in blood. His grip on her tightened unconsciously.

“Whose blood is that?” he asked, although part of him knew it was a dumb question. They’d been alone for a while now and Luke wasn’t bleeding.

“Mine,” Julie answered nonetheless with a gasp, letting him support her whole weight.

Luke lowered both of them on the ground, reaching for his stele as he searched for Julie’s injury. It wasn’t hard to miss, going down her left shoulder, not bleeding as much, but still going deep.

“I got you, it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay,” Luke whispered reassurances over her as he drew rune after rune on her skin.

Julie winced a bit, although the injury seemed to improve second by second. She reached for his hand, still holding the stele over her, ready to draw again if needed, giving him a little squeeze.

“I know,” she said, looking up at him with a little smile.

Luke leaned down, kissing her forehead, all while trying not to touch her arm at all. “There, now you’re going to be just fine.”

Julie chuckled. “Didn’t know kissing had magical properties,” she said.

“We live in a magical world, Julie, of course it does,” Luke stated his undisputed facts.

“Are the demons…” she started to ask, turning her head a little to look over at the alley.

“Taken care of. We have great friends,” Luke said as he shifted, pushing Julie a bit further up. He pulled her with him, careful not to hurt her and got up, holding her in his arms.

Julie yelped a little as she settled and Luke was momentarily worried that he had caused her pain, when she just turned to look at him with concern. “No, no, Luke, I can walk,” she hurried to say.

“That doesn’t mean you should,” he argued.

“You have been running around for as long as I have, I know you’re tired,” she insisted.

“Yeah, which means you’re tired too. And hurt. So you get special treatment,” Luke said and started walking towards their friends.

“You’re okay?” Reggie asked, jumping down from somewhere and staring at Julie, concerned. Luke was never sure where Reggie was around him, but he always trusted that he was there, having his back.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Julie answered. “Luke’s just trying to throw his back out,” she added, although did lean into him with a sigh. She could deny it all she wanted, but they both knew she was in pain and it didn’t mesh well with the exhaustion and blood loss.

“Well, you know me. Always going the extra mile.” He grinned down at her.

“You should get going, we can finish up here,” Reggie said. “The Institute’s not that far.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, leaving them behind to deal with the aftermath while he and Julie went back home. The bleeding had stopped, but they still needed to bandage the injury.

“I’m tired,” Julie said with a little sigh, her head resting on Luke’s shoulder.

“I know, baby, we’re going home,” Luke said softly.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to move my arm for a few days,” she added.

“Yep. Maybe you should use your time off to rest,” Luke said.

“I don’t wanna rest anymore,” she protested. “First my leg was broken and I couldn’t do anything and now this? Maybe I should just use my time to train more.”

“Jules, a building fell on your leg. It’s safe to say it didn’t have anything to do with your training,” Luke tried to reason with her. “Also you just took down half a nest. I think you’re good. You get to sleep in for the next few days.”

“Who’s gonna wake you up if I sleep in?” she asked as she looked up at him.

“Alex,” they both said at the same time. “Yeah, okay, my bad,” Julie added with a chuckle, falling back against him. “Maybe I’ll just sleep.”

“Great use of your time,” Luke agreed.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said quietly and Luke felt a little kiss on his shoulder, making him smile.

“Always, Julie,” he said, kissing the top of her head too. “Always.”

#thank you🥰#new fic #the phantom chronicles #hurt prompts #jatp #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #julie molina #juke #shadowhunter AU

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tmp-jatp · 3 years

Text

we keep him alive

a response to this post by @thedeathdeelers

read on AO3

“You’ll have the sorts of abilities very few other ghosts get to have, very few indeed. The kind of abilities only I have the power to grant you. You’ll get to go and complete that unfinished business you left on this earth when you died. Tie up all the loose ends, and all that. And when you finish and your time is up, you’ll come back to me. Do we have a deal?”

“Wh-what’s the catch?” Reggie’s eyes practically glow in the dim light. They’re wide. His face never looks so young as it does whenever he’s scared.

“A clever one, you. In payment for me allowing you to complete that which you never got a chance to do in your time allotted, in payment for borrowed time, you shall serve my needs for a proportional amount of time. I’ll give you enough time to complete all it is you still need to do, don’t worry about that. You’ll just return to me at the end of it.”

“Service like what?” Alex prompts.

“Oh, nevermind that, that’s for later. What you need to consider now is whether this is worth it to you. Do you want to live your dreams? Find love? Find a true, complete family, a home? More than that measly ragtag band of brothers you three formed. Something real and more? Something alive? Is it worth it for you to have all you ever wanted and more, in return for a few short years of afterlife with me? Come on, boys, it’s an offer you can’t refuse.”

Luke, Reggie, and Alex exchange nervous glances. An entire conversation elapses in a moment through their eyes.

Then Luke takes the lead. He reaches his hand out to shake. He grasps it and they shake, solidifying their deal. After Luke, so do Alex and Reggie.

Their wrists sting, and they look down to see a stain across the skin on the inside of each of their wrists: Three equal lines, arranged in a formation where they reach out from the middle to the points of an equilateral triangle. The dark marks are clearly visible even in the lacking light, etched black against their pale and suddenly clammy skin.

“One more thing, boys. When the time comes, if you are touching anyone but each other, they will be brought back as well, to help pay your debt to me. It’s a way I can get my time returned to me at a quicker rate. Because you know, time is valuable.” He laughs. “You probably know that better now than you ever did while you were alive.

“And how will we know when the time comes?” Luke asks.

“You will know.”

“You know, you don’t seem so wise, for the Wise Man. You’re just a broker for the desperate.”

“Do you want to repeat that, Alexander?”

Alex gulps. His jaw stays clenched. All three of them, probably all four of them know that even though he may just be a ‘broker for the desperate’, they were nothing if not desperate.

“You’ve already made your deal with me. Now it’s time for me to fill my part of it, before you fill yours.”

~~~

The time is coming. Luke can feel it. His mark, his stamp, tattoo, brand, whatever, has been pulsing for months, throbbing for weeks, aching for days, searing for hours. At regular intervals, the pain comes over him for an instant. He’s dealt with it the entire time he’s been here, like a second slower heartbeat in his wrist. A constant reminder that every minute they spent here was borrowed. He grimaces and grips his wrist tightly with his opposite hand. Elsewhere, Reggie and Alex surely hiss through their teeth in tandem with Luke.

Julie is there. Julie is always there. As soon as Luke’s muscles aren’t tensed anymore, he digs his nose even deeper into the skin of her neck and they hold each other tight. Neither wants to ever let go, even though they both know a goodbye is inevitable – and fast approaching.

They’re in the studio, because where else would they ever be? It’s a far cry from how it looked six years ago when they first arrived. The walls are plastered with posters advertising Julie and the Phantoms playing at various venues all across America. The plants have been changed out multiple times in the years Luke has “lived” here. Yet some things also always stayed the same: the pink dahlia curtains on the windows and the knitted throw blanket on the couch. This is home.

The others are spending their final moments with those they found during their second chance. They’ll have forever with each other, but only now with these. Willie. Ray. Carlos. Luke doesn’t blame them for spending every last second with those they’ve come to love most. Isn’t that exactly what he’s doing too?

Except-

The others don’t know yet, what Luke did.

“Please, let me take it from them. You said debts can transfer onto others, so they can transfer onto me. I’ll serve triple the time. I’ll do it.”

Luke winces again but he tries to hide it. Julie notices. Julie always notices. She squeezes her arms around his torso once and starts rubbing her hands up and down his back. She would whisper sweet nothings in his ear if only they could trick themselves into believing nothing was something.

He hears her sniffle. Luke leans back, loosening his arms around her waist. Her hair is a mess but his is even worse. Her eyes are shining but she’s doing her best to keep herself together for Luke. As if, if only she were strong enough, she could bear the weight of both their pain. He swipes away a stray tear on her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

They’re grieving prematurely, because they know there’ll be no opportunity after.

Luke’s mark pulses twice, quickly.

A warning.

Time’s almost up.

Luke pulls away from Julie, and she tries to cling to him.

“Please, Luke-”

“It’s time, Julie. I can’t- You know what’ll happen, if- if we stay like this. I can’t.”

She clings harder. “It’s worth it. To me. It’s worth it.” She’s pleading with him, and his heart shatters. She should never have to plead with anyone. She’s Julie Molina. This shouldn’t be happening to her.

“Not to me, it isn’t. I couldn’t live with myself if you came too.”

Three pulses.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.” Her voice breaks and her lips are curling outwards.

He takes a deep breath in and can feel his own eyes threatening to overflow. At once they pull back together in the center of the room. She digs her face into his chest and he envelopes her in his arms. They hold each other tighter than ever before, and Luke can’t bear the thought of trying to let go again.

Four pulses.

Luke buries his face in the hair on the top of her head and presses his lips to her scalp. She turns her head so her cheek is pressed against him and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Julie, I need you to listen to me,” Luke murmurs against her head. His voice is muffled, but amid only the sounds of their two hearts beating, it’s impossible to miss. “It’s going to be okay after I leave. You’re going to be okay.”

She shakes her head – whether that’s a denial that he’ll leave or a denial that she’ll be okay, he can’t tell.

Three pulses. It’s a countdown now.

“Yes, you will,” he insists. “I’ll still be here, in you. Just like your mom, Julie. She’s alive in you.”

“That’s different, Luke.”

“It’s no different at all.”

He reaches around behind his back for her hands and finds them, clutching to the fabric of his shirt. Gently he eases her fingers free and grips her hands in his. He brings them back around to be held between them, forcing space to open up between the two.

Two pulses.

“Luke, please,” she pleads again. “Please, no.”

Luke rubs his thumbs over the back of Julie’s knuckles. They’re white with how hard she’s trying to hold to him. She’s always been his anchor, but today she can’t be anymore. He won’t let it happen.

She brings him in one final time and this time they meet at their lips, in a kiss that doesn’t say nearly everything that is left to be said. Luke knows she’s trying to keep him there long enough that the deadline will pass with them together as one. He keeps one hand intertwined with hers down at their waists, but he draws her other hand up so she can caress his face one more time, the way she always liked to do. His own hand rests on top of hers there.

One pulse.

Now or never.

Luke breaks off the kiss and once again Julie has tears escaping her eyes. “Luke, no,” she makes one last bid to stop him or change his mind. “Let me come, too.”

Luke uses their joined hands to push her away as he feels heat begin to build in his wrist. She stumbles and falls backwards onto the sofa, and he takes three large steps backwards.

He meets her eyes just after she swipes at them with her sleeve. “Keep me alive, yeah?”

“Luke!” Julie calls his name in an anguished cry that haunts him from the moment he hears it. It’s worth it to keep her safe.

The heat rises and rises in his wrist, from a searing red to a white-hot all-consuming pain coursing through his every vein. A scream rips from his throat. He keeps moving away even as his vision begins tunneling, anything to keep her from reaching him before he goes.

The fire burns him up from the inside out, feeling like a constant electrocution of the highest current going through every single pore. His vision tunnels more and more, until everything is black.

And then the pain is gone, and it takes a moment for his cry to melt away, too. He opens his eyes – he didn’t know they’d been squeezed shut tight – and sees that dim dark room he hasn’t seen for six years.

“Welcome back.”

The doors to the studio slam open and Julie startles from her stupor trance. Her eyes widen when they land on Reggie and Alex.

“How are you still here?”

“Where is he?” Alex demands.

Julie shakes her head. She wants the anguish back. She wants the grief back. This numbness is too much. “He- he’s gone. He left. I- I thought you two did too.”

Alex storms through the small space, checking behind large furniture and pounding the bathroom door open as if to make sure Julie wasn’t lying.

“We thought we’d be gone, too,” Reggie explains. “We don’t know what happened.”

Alex returns. “He’s not here,” he growls. “We were supposed to go back, it was supposed to be all three of us. Damn bastard took our place!” Alex slams his fist against the wall.

Julie gapes. “He could do that?”

Alex throws his hands up and paces back along the floor. With Alex’s back to them, Reggie answers.

“Maybe? We think so? I don’t know, it wasn’t really clear.”

“So is he just...gone?” Julie doesn’t like how small her voice sounds. Reggie’s face and Alex’s body say everything. Yes.

“So what are we supposed to do now?” Alex poses to the room.

Julie takes a shaky breath. “We keep him alive.”

taglist: @futurearchaeologyprof @beethovensbitxh @ace-bookworm @queenmolina @molinashimbos @star-astro @sunset-sweeerve @bluefirewrites @reggieshamster @blush-and-books @smolfangirl @thedeathdeelers @williexmercer @thesunsetcurvephantom @russsianspy @fanfics-she-wrote @pink-flame @angelofarts @chickwiththepurpleguitar @hey-there-juliet @tonightthestarsalign

#tmp writes #what a fun exercise to get back into writing #angst #idk what kind of au this is it's just some idea #melody and words #juke

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thesevenumbrellas · 4 years

Note

I saw you wanted hc requests sooo wb a coffeeshop Au?

Yes a classic!

Ales has anxiety. This is not a secret. Everyone knows this.

Because of that anxiety, he needs to get to college super early. Like an hour early.

(Because what if his car breaks down or he gets lost or there’s no parking or-)

Anyway since the doors to his class aren’t even unlocked that early, one day he gets the idea to visit the college coffee shop. Because if he has to have an anxiety attack in his car, he might as well do it with a hot drink.

It should have been simple. It’s not.

He stops in his tracks the second he gets through the door because oh no! The barista is hot!

Luckily the barista guy is too busy wiping down counters to even notice Alex until he awkwardly clears his throat.

And oh no. It gets worse. The guy is even prettier when he turns around because he has a lovely smile and cheekbones! And his hair!! His hair is tucked up mostly under his cap but a few strands have fallen loose around his face.

The name tag on his shirt says “Willie.”

Alex is going to die of gay right here right now.

Except he’s unlucky that way because he doesn’t. Instead he just stares awkwardly until he realizes he’s been staring awkwardly for a really long time.

“Are you open?” he manages to ask. His voice only cracks a tiny bit. Yay.

Except then Willie smiles even wider and winks at him. “For you? Sure!”

What does that even mean? Alex does not know!

He does successfully manage to order a hot tea without being even more awkward though so... it’s the small successes in life.

But Willie isn’t done because he keeps talking to him and oh no Alex was not ready for this.

“Why’re you here so early?”

“Oh... you know... class...” If the earth could just swallow him now then that would be great because he sounds so so lame!

“You know you’ve got an hour to go, right?”

“Um... yeah... just... don’t want to miss it...” How was that somehow worse??

But Willie just laughs. “Then you can keep me company.”

What does that mean????

Apparently what that means is Alex staying by the counter for the entire hour, talking to Willie. They talk about music of course because Willie notices the drumsticks sticking out of Alex’s bag.

Of course Willie has great taste in music! Of course he can’t have a single flaw to put Alex at ease.

They share some reccoemndations. Alex secretly saves them to a playlist to listen later.

In the end he’s five minutes late to class. Even more shockingly, he’s almost okay with that, because he’s just has the most amazing conversation ever.

Willie makes him a fresh cup of tea to go (on the house) because Alex had let his grow cold. He draws a little doodle of a drummer on the cup too.

On the bus ride home, almost six hours later, Alex listens to the playlist and can’t help but notice how romantic some of the songs are.

Visiting the coffee shop during the early morning becomes a ritual. Almost every day he keeps Willie company before class. They talk about music, and when that runs out they talk about skateboarding.

or... Willie talks about skateboarding. Alex worries about all the crazy stories of Willie riding through traffic and breaking into museums.

Alex has stories of his own though. He tells Willie about the band. About the time Luke smashed Reggie’s face into an entire cheesecake. When Julie covered all of Alex’s stuff in wrapping paper as a revenge prank. When Reggie and Luke were banned for life for starting a fight because someone called Julie’s singing “mediocre” at a club.

In the end it’s almost a month later when Alex walks through the door, and Willie greets him by saying, “When are you going to ask me out?”

It takes Alex almost a full five minutes to recover from that shock. Because wait a second the hot barista guy wants to date him?? What!?

They go on their first date that night.

And their second the night after...

And a third... fourth... fifth... and so on.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #Willex #jatp Alex #Willie/Alex #jatp hc #hc jatp

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

cocoa

sick of hearing his parents fight day after day, reggie goes to the one person who knows exactly what he's going through: the pretty violinist who lives next door.

fandom: julie and the phantoms

ship: alive!reggie x reader

word count: 1.5k+

featuring: swearing (as always), fighting, allusion to an abusive relationship, general sadness, mention of a family member’s death

a/n: day 2 of my holiday challenge: hot chocolate! this is kind of depressing and i'm sorry, sad!reggie was stuck in my head and he wouldn't leave until i wrote this but it has kind of a hopeful ending tho so i guess that counts for something? this is also my first time writing for this fandom so forgive me if it sucks. as usual, unbetaed so all mistakes are my b.

come join my holiday challenge!

December 1994

They were fighting again. It was the same old story: his dad being an ass on purpose, his mom taking the bait, wash, rinse, repeat. Their shouts rang harshly throughout the house, gloomy and miserable despite the cheerful decorations strung up in every room and the massive Christmas tree downstairs, dressed in its festive best and looking like it came straight out of a seasonal catalog.

Reggie had gone to them at the beginning of the month, begging them not to fight, please; his everyday life was already ruined by their screaming matches and the only thing he wanted for Christmas was some peace, quiet and civility to celebrate his favorite holiday. His father had pretended not to hear his son's pleas, ignoring him completely like he always did while his mother offered a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"We'll try, honey." She'd said and he knew it was a lie. His mother always lied, his father always threw a plate at her head, Reggie always wished he had the courage to run away for good, like Luke did. But he wasn't Luke, he never would be, and he just didn't have it in him to leave them, even though he was the one who came out worse for wear after each fight.

The distant shatter of ceramic drifting up the stairs was his cue to go until things cooled down again -he never stuck around after the first dish got thrown, not anymore, the scar on his arm the perfect reminder why- and so he jimmied open the window of his room and climbed down the trellis into the salty air, the crashing waves of the Pacific covering his escape like a blanket.

(He could've stormed down the stairs and slammed the door behind him and his parents still wouldn't have noticed he left but something about sneaking out and risking a broken bone made him feel alive, the same rush he felt when he was on stage, bass humming in his hands, performing alongside his bandmates and knowing they felt it, too.)

Even outside, the echoes of his parents' angry voices still rang in his ears, haunting him all the way to the house next door, its sparkling lights shining brightly and guiding him through the darkening night like a beacon. The driveway sat empty, sans for one lone bicycle haphazardly lying on its side in front of the garage and he carefully propped it up on its kickstand before climbing the stairs to the front porch.

The faint sound of a slow, somber violin came to a stop as he knocked on the door, followed by a quiet, familiar voice Reggie knew like the back of his hand.

"It's open."

He found Y/N alone on the couch, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the strings of the violin on her lap and she glanced up at the tap of his boots on the hardwood floor, face brightening the slightest bit at the sight of her friend rounding the corner into the living room.

The girl didn't speak as she gently placed the instrument aside and stood, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck to draw him into a crushing hug. His own arms wrapped around her waist and held her just as tightly, his head resting on her shoulder, and the warm vanilla scent of her soft hair tickling his nose helped calm the storm in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Reg." Her voice was low and soothing in his ear and he didn't know how he could possibly hold her any tighter than he already was but he managed as he replied, "I'm sorry, too."

While his parents fought like wildfire, explosive and loud and raging with the wrong type of passion, hers were like a deep freeze, icy and cold and desolate in the worst possible way. Too many times Y/N was left to her own devices, all alone in an empty house with her thoughts and a violin her only company (at least they had given her that, the gift of music and a beautiful, expensive instrument to prove their love was real, albeit superficial).

It was some time later before she pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye and brushed a wayward strand of his dark hair back from his forehead with one calloused finger. "Okay, pity party's over. It's almost Christmas and we're not spending it being sad about shitty parents. Deal?"

She held out her pinky with one eyebrow raised expectantly and grinned when he nodded and hooked his pinky around hers. Reggie loved really liked that about her, the way she could just make all the heartache and pain and disappointment vanish from his mind like magic and replace them with thoughts of her and her sunny smile, her big heart, her touch that made the very blood in his veins spark like lightning. Y/N was his bright spot, his safe haven, and while Luke, Alex, and Bobby knew what he was going through, they just didn't understand like she did (they had their own problems to deal with, anyway, so he couldn't blame them).

"Good, now come on," She wrapped the rest of her fingers around his hand and started tugging him down the hall to the kitchen. "You're helping me make hot chocolate."

"Peppermint?" He asked, smiling when she glanced up at him with an offended look on her face.

"Duh. Only a heathen would make it without peppermint, Reginald."

Another thing he liked about her: she never did anything halfway; half-assing things, taking the easy way out, cutting corners just wasn't her style. It even applied to hot chocolate apparently, as he watched her flutter around the kitchen with practiced ease -heating milk and cream on the stove, measuring sugar and chocolate, slowly adding drops of peppermint oil- and despite her saying he was going to help, the only thing he got to do was crush some candy canes. Not that he minded, though, because while his hands could play bass like no one's business, they were a total disaster when it came to cooking and he knew Y/N was well aware of that fact, considering it took a week for the burnt popcorn smell to fade from her microwave the last time he tried.

The violinist smiled and proudly handed him the finished drink, whipped cream piled high and candy cane bits almost overflowing from the edge of a red mug. "This is my grandma's recipe," She said, one hand holding a purple mug for herself and the other reaching to grab onto his wrist and pull him out the front door. "She'd always make it when she came to visit for the holidays and we'd sit out on the porch and watch the ocean, each and every year."

"She was the best," Reggie said as the two sat together on the porch swing, his right side flush against her left. "I still have dreams about her cookies and wake up drooling."

The cool ocean breeze ruffled Y/N's hair and carried her laugh off down the beach. "She loved you, you know that? She was always talking about 'that nice boy next door.' Pretty sure she wanted us to get married."

"I loved her, too." He took a sip of his drink in an attempt to hide the blush that was taking over his entire face. "And we still have time for the whole marriage thing."

"I'm still waiting for my ring." She laughed again before looking down at the mug in her hands, voice becoming quiet as she replied, "I really miss her. She was the only person in my family who actually cared about me 'cause my parents sure as hell don't."

He wanted to tell her she was wrong but he knew it'd be a lie and he never did that, refusing to become a pathological liar like his mother, so instead he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. "Hey, no more talk about shitty parents, remember?"

"Sorry, I know," She took a long sip of her cocoa, then rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I just feel alone sometimes when you're not around. I mean, you have your band and I always had my grandma to talk to but now she's gone and I'm kind of...lost."

"You have the band, too, Y/N! Alex and Luke love you and Bobby, well, he's Bobby. No one really knows what goes on in that guy's head but I know he thinks you're cool. We all do, especially me, and you should know you're never alone 'cause you'll always have us."

The girl abruptly sat up and grabbed the mug from Reggie's hand before he could blink and placed it alongside her own on the floor, then threw her arms around his neck in another one of her fierce hugs.

"Has anyone told you how fucking amazing you are?"

"You just did." He buried his blushing face in her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist once again. "I'm serious, Y/N. You'll always have me."

"And you'll always have me, Reg. No matter what."

And as they sat there on the porch swing, wrapped in each other's arms, Reggie knew as long as he had Y/N in his life, things were gonna be okay.

#obxmermaidholiday #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp imagine #reggie jatp #reggie x reader #reggie x y/n #jatp fic

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Forever Separated

Based on this request: “Reader is Luke’s girlfriend in the 90’s and is at the gig at the Orpheum and hit by a drunk driver and dies instantly. She and the boys come back as ghosts 25 years later. She’s there for everything that goes down with Julie, Willie, and Caleb.”

masterlist

Your fingers tap absentmindedly on the steering wheel as you careen through the streets. It’s late now, the beacons of headlights guiding you down the asphalt. There’s a grin on your face that won’t seem to go away- your boys are playing at the Orpheum tonight. The Orpheum. That’s been their dream for what feels like forever. It doesn’t even seem true.

By your boys, you mean Sunset Curve, of course. The motley collection of four teenage boys with dreams bigger than the world and the need for a chance to prove themselves. You stumbled across them at a small jazz club, at what had been one of their first performances. It hadn’t been long after that when you had become a friend of the bandmates, and an even shorter time before you fell in love with Luke. When you started dating, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

You had always known that they would make it, even when they seemed to doubt it themselves. You knew they had gathered regrets over the years- Reggie with the fracturing of his family, Alex with his parents’ lack of acceptance of him, and Luke with the way he’d run out on his mother. You had seen it in their faces- if their band never got off of the ground, they would continue to doubt themselves for the rest of their lives. There had been times when you thought that it might be over for good, that they’d be done for before they even got the chance to get started. Yet here you are now, driving towards their gig at the Orpheum.

You’re only a couple of streets away. You’re practically shivering with anticipation at the thought of it- all of their dreams and hopes, finally come to fruition. You, however, are running a little late despite your best interests, and so your foot involuntarily presses down on the gas. You’re not speeding, always careful to follow traffic laws, just making sure you’re not going to be as late as you fear.

It only seems fitting that something would go wrong on this night of nights. Thinking back, you’re almost glad it happened to you and not someone else. You had this awful feeling that something was going to happen to ruin this gig, and maybe if it happened to you it would protect the boys and let their show run on uninterrupted. When you pass through the intersection, this thought may have protected you.

When you see the truck out of the corner of your eye, you continue driving. You know it will stop, it has to. Maybe it’s the way you’re eager to see your boys again, or the fact that the light has been green for a long time now and there’s no way the driver could miss the glaring red in front of him. Maybe it’s just because you feel sheltered by this bubble of hope that comes with seeing the boy you love play at the Orpheum. Regardless, there is nothing you can do to avoid the truck, and you keep expecting that it will stop until it is inches away from you. Then you finally realize that there’s no getting out of this, and it is only then that it is too late to act.

You’ve seen car crashes in the movies. They’re always a blazing whirl of headlights and screeching tires, a hailstorm of broken glass that reflects the light in the most beautiful arc around you. It will be slow, like time itself crawls to a stop, just in time for your head to fly back in a graceful motion. Then it will speed up again, and just like that it will be over.

This is nothing like that. It is over an instant, no beautifully devastating moments. You’re not a marionette to be hung delicately in the air, your strings are cut within seconds. You do not have time to see the poetry in your last moments, they’re already over. All you manage to see is a quick glimpse of a bottle resting in the driver’s hands, a tremendous impact like the very shaking of the earth, and then there is nothing at all. No orchestras reach a momentum, no lens flares pierce the night. There is everything, and then there is nothing. It is painfully ordinary.

There is one feeling that seems to surround it all. A pain, numb at first and then growing to a fever pitch. You don’t know when you wake up, only that it is much later. There’s someone dressed in a paramedic’s uniform standing over you, the piercing din of an ambulance somewhere behind you. You want to form words together and ask who it’s for, but the answer comes to you the second you realize you can’t move a muscle. It is for you. You are the one in need of saving.

The paramedic is standing over you, shouting something about a drunk driver and two casualties, the driver and the girl right here. You want to stand up, to shout to the world that you’re alive and fine. But for some reason, you can’t move at all. You can’t say anything except feel the last of your pulse die from your veins. Distantly, you feel a raw anguish creeping up in your throat. Luke and the others are still waiting for you at the Orpheum. Who will tell them that you’re gone?

It should have been over then. You died, certainly. You bled out on the streets and ceased to draw breath. Indeed, you had the classic fading of color and acceptance of the darkness just like everyone else. It appears that you will only have access to the clichés of the stories in death. It’s oddly fitting. Regardless of the beauty of it, you died. End of story.

Or at least, it should have been the end. Yet, you find yourself standing again, waiting at the back of a crowded room. You stare at your hands, at your body, which appears unharmed. Your eyes travel from yourself to the people in front of you. Your parents sit in chairs, their backs to you. They’re looking over a photo album, crying softly. “She was so young. She could have done so much more. I miss her, even though it’s been so long.”

You step forward, but the ground makes no sound underneath your feet. “Y/N wouldn’t want you to be sad. She would want you to remember her with happiness, not with tears, right?” Your mother nods sadly. “I can’t seem to help it, though.” An icy chill runs through your veins as you realize what’s happened. All you can think about is that you need to get away from here, somewhere where you won’t be surrounded by people mourning your death.

And then you’re gone. One minute you’re in your home, the next minute you’re standing on the sidewalk outside. Although you look around frantically, no one notices your sudden appearance. No one, that is, except one boy. He’s riding a skateboard, long dark hair tucked underneath a helmet. He stops suddenly, staring at you. “Hey, you just poofed here out of nowhere. You’re a ghost?”

You stare at him. “You can see me?” He nods. “You must be new to this ghost business if you’ve got questions. I’m Willie, by the way.” You smile weakly at him. “Y/N. I guess I would have to be a ghost if I died in the accident.” Willie winces. “Ooh, accidents. Those hurt. I died around the early 80s, a couple of decades ago, so I know what you mean.” You stare at him. “The 80s weren’t a couple of decades ago. They were recent.”

Willie shakes his head. “Sorry, man. You must have only been brought back as a ghost recently. It’s the 2020s right now.” You shake your head slowly. “That means it’s been 30 years since I died. How is that possible?” Willie places a hand on your shoulder, and for some reason the gesture is surprisingly comforting. “Hey, not a whole lot about the ghost stuff makes sense. If you want to talk about it, though, I’m here.” You smile at him. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Willie ends up becoming a fast friend. He explains everything there is to know about ghosts, and the two of you have fun messing around with your ghost abilities, whatever those are. It’s nice to have someone who understands about the ghost business, and you find that in leaps and bounds with Willie.

One day, you’re lying on a grassy hill admiring the clouds when Willie poofs into existence next to you. For some reason, he looks almost flushed with excitement, cheeks pink with thrill. “You won’t believe who I met. The cutest guy. He’s a new ghost, too.” You grin over at him. “Already making moves? You’re unreal.” Willie rolls his eyes. “I played it safe. We had a nice chat. He seems very cool, in a band or something. I think he plays the drums. Alex, was in a band called Sunset Curve. I think that’s a good name for a band, and I’ve heard a lot of bad ones.”

You sit up suddenly, all thoughts of the bright afternoon sun quickly abandoned. “What did you say? About Sunset Curve?” Willie frowns. “That’s the guy’s band. Or, it was until he died. He’s about our age, played in a band called Sunset Curve.” You shake your head slowly. “That makes no sense. They should have grown up a long time ago.” Willie still seems confused, so you clarify. “I know Alex, and I know the rest of his bandmates. I was friends with them until I died.” You fix him with a sudden purposeful look. “I need you to bring me to meet these guys.”

Willie has to ask around, but eventually he finds Alex and discovers that they’re staying in their old studio, now inhabited by the Molina family. You thank him, setting off as soon as you can. As you stand outside the doors to the studio, you find yourself suddenly nervous. Will they want to see you? Will they understand what happened?

The faint sounds of music drifting out from the doors is what convinces you. It sounds just like them, like this is another afternoon from the 90s when you’re meeting up with Luke and the others. You gather your courage and knock twice on the doors, then push them open. You stand for a moment in the doorway, staring. The boys stare back at you. It’s funny- everyone looks the exact same, even though everything has changed.

Then there’s a voice from the back of the room. It’s quiet, as if he’s afraid to say anything lest the moment be fractured away into nothingness. “Y/N?” Luke steps forward, disbelief warring with hope in his eyes. You nod slowly. “Luke?” Luke stands still for a moment longer, then runs forward, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close. You tuck your head into the space between his head and his shoulder, letting yourself relax once more.

After what could be ten seconds or ten minutes, Luke reluctantly pulls away. He cups your face in his hand, just staring with awe. “How are you here? We died- you weren’t at the Orpheum-” You laugh bitterly. “I died too. There was a drunk driver on the road, he hit me when I was just a couple of blocks away. I was so close, that was the worst part.” Luke nods slowly. “I remember hearing sirens. I didn’t know it was you.”

Something like guilt passes over his face, and you hurriedly shake your head. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. I guess you died some time after that?” Luke nods. “Just before the show. We never got to play.” A sad sigh rips from his chest, and you pull him close again. It isn’t fair, not at all. He shouldn’t have died, you shouldn’t have died. He should not have been robbed of this chance to live the dream he always wanted.

There’s the sound of a throat clearing from across the room. “You know, we’re here too. Not just Luke.” You look up, laughing. “Sorry, Reggie, Alex. Love you guys too. I’m glad we can all be dead together.” Alex flashes you a thumbs up from across the room. “Me too, Y/N. Me too.” Luke laughs now, albeit reluctantly. You squeeze his hand one more time, then step into the room, greeting the other boys.

Your gaze falls upon a figure you don’t recognize- a girl, about your age if not a year younger. She has dark, curly hair and a fascinated smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” The girl startles. “Julie. Julie Molina. It’s nice to meet you- you must be the girl Luke keeps talking about.” You toss a grin Luke’s way. “You’ve been talking about me?” Luke moves to deny this, but Reggie speaks up loudly. “So often. You have no idea. He’s been very sad.”

Luke glares at his friend, but you just grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, it’s nice to feel wanted.” Luke beams at you, still thrilled that you’re here again. “Trust me, you are. I can’t believe you get to stay with me.”

Neither can you, actually. Somehow, despite the fact that you died and came back again, Luke did the same, and you can be with him again. You’ve lost everything- your family, your future, your life, but you still have him. It feels impossible, but it’s true.

This isn’t to say that life is smooth sailing from here. It turns out Luke, Alex, and Reggie have gotten themselves tangled in the mess that is Caleb’s club, and they’ve got the stamps to prove it. You find yourself holding Luke close while he spasms from jolt after jolt, forcing smiles to pretend like it doesn’t kill you every time he’s in pain. You also have to defend Willie to the rest, as he’s been your friend for a while and would never knowingly betray them. You have a feeling that Alex is pretty happy to hear this.

At last, you find the way to save Luke and save the boys- another performance at the Orpheum, this time as their unfinished business. Standing outside the building, staring up at the blinking neon signs, you can’t help but feel some strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. This feels like a sick twist of deja vu. This is how you died- waiting for the boys’ performance at the Orpheum. Staying here now, in the same position but after you’ve died, feels somehow wrong.

You try to shake the thoughts from your head, slipping inside the building to go find Luke, Julie, and the others. This isn’t like that night, you can’t die twice. Everything is going to be fine. Yet when you walk in the dressing room and catch sight of a panicked Flynn trying to calm a visibly shaken Julie, you have a feeling that things aren’t exactly smooth sailing.

Julie looks up when she sees you appear in the room. “Y/N, it’s good to see you. Have you seen Luke and the boys?” You shake your head, a crease forming between your brows. “No, not since I left the studio to let you say your goodbyes. Have they not shown up?” Julie sinks back down in a chair, hands pressed to her temples. “Not at all.” You slump against a wall. This feels like history repeating itself again- you dead, the boys not showing up to their performance at the Orpheum. No matter how many times you tell a story, it tends to end the same way.

Distraught, you wander back through the building to attempt to find the boys, but your search is to no avail. They’re nowhere to be found. You stumble through the auditorium just to see Julie taking the stage. You have a brief, wild hope that she’s managed to find them, but then you see the red rims of her teary eyes and hear the goodbye she issues to the crowd. If they haven’t shown up, then that means-

You try to distract yourself by listening to Julie sing. It brings a smile to your face in spite of yourself. Julie is a bright firecracker of a girl, and it’s been wonderful to get to know her. At least you know you have her at the end of this. Yet when the beat drops, Alex appears in a flash of sparks. You stand up, pressing forward through the crowd as if your proximity will do anything more to bring them back. Yes- there goes Reggie, and there’s Luke struggling to flicker back into existence. You send out a silent plea: bring him back, please. You can’t do this without him.

Then he’s back again, and you feel like your heart might burst. He flashes you a grin, as if to promise that nothing could separate you again. You smile back at him, finally letting yourself relax. He’s here, it’s okay. It’s all okay. When the song ends, you watch through joyful eyes as the boys stand next to Julie, clasping hands before taking a bow. There’s something wrong, though, something wrong when they disappear. Usually, you can loosely sense them when they poof away, but this time there’s nothing. Nothing at all. It’s like they’ve been erased away from the song of their lives.

There’s something pounding in the back of your heart, and you poof away to Julie’s rooms backstage. She appears there seconds later, as if she’s been expecting you. She runs over to you, stopping a few feet away as she remembers she can’t touch you or hug you as a ghost. “Tell me they’re still here. They didn’t just cross over.” You shake your head slowly. “I can’t feel them. They’re not in the building anymore. Julie, I think they’re gone.”

She nods slowly, fighting a losing battle to keep the tears at bay. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. So sorry. You just found Luke again, and now he’s gone.” You force a smile. “It’s alright. We’re just ghosts, remember? We’ve been running on borrowed time all along. I’ll meet you at the studio, alright? We can say our goodbyes.” Julie nods. “I’ll see you then.” You give her one last wave, then poof out.

You reappear outside the doors of the studio. You can’t quite bring yourself to go in, to face the empty stillness of the studio and know that the boy you love isn’t there. What are you supposed to do now? You have no idea what your unfinished business could possibly be. Most likely, you’re going to live out your endless days as a ghost, not noticed by anyone except Julie and Willie and whatever other ghosts you manage to find, forever haunted by the knowledge that the one person you’re looking for the most will never appear around the corner, never be waiting for you again. It’s like you’re back to that car crash, knowing you’ll be separated by death once more.

You hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway and straighten up. Seconds later, Julie appears down the path, and you nod at her slowly. “Are you ready to do this?” She sighs. “It seems fitting to say goodbye, even if they aren’t here.” She pushes open the doors, letting the darkness wash over the two of you. She looks over at you. “I don’t know what to do.” You smile gently. “There’s no script. I have a feeling they’ll be able to hear you. Just say what you wish you got to say before they left.”

Julie nods. “I’m glad I got to meet you guys, and grateful to you for everything. You got me back into music, and I’ll never be able to let go of it again. I thought I’d never play after my mom, but you convinced me that I could. Thank you.” There’s a muffled voice from the back of the room, one that’s quickly shushed by two annoyed boys. “You’re welcome.” You stare. “Reggie?” You’d know him anywhere- you’ve heard that voice in band practices for the last couple of decades, even if it doesn’t feel that way.

Julie runs over to turn on the light, and your hand flies to your mouth as you see the boys crumpled in a heap on the floor, in obvious pain. “Did it not work? Did you not cross over?” Luke shakes his head, gently extricating himself from the heap of band members on the ground to stumble over to you. You catch him before he falls, holding him upright. “We won’t play with Caleb, that’s a promise. It’s not worth it like that.” You cup his face in your hands. “I don’t want to let you go. Not yet.”

Luke laughs quietly. “I’m not sure we had a choice. I love you, Y/N, no matter what. You know that, right?” You nod, letting your head fall against his shoulder. “I know.” You feel one last jolt rack his body, and somehow you know that this will be the last. This is it, the moment when he truly dies. You fling your arms around him, holding him close one last time. If you can’t have the future with him you had always planned, you can at least have this moment.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, waiting for the moment when he disappears from you forever. Yet it doesn’t come. You open your eyes carefully, then stare at him. “Luke, you’re- I think you’re glowing.” Sure enough, he’s surrounded by this golden haze of light. He smiles at you, chuckling slightly in awe. “I feel good. Strong, like I haven’t felt in a while.” Alex stands up too, as does Reggie. “Actually, I feel better too. I think you saved us. Both of you.”

You laugh incredulously. “Really? You’re not going away?” Luke presses a kiss to your cheek. “Never again. I’m not leaving you ever again.” You beam at him. “Good. I don’t intend to be with anyone else.” He laughs at that, pulling you in for a kiss. For once, you know that he’s here to stay.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson oneshot #jatp #jatp imagines #jatp x reader #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke oneshot #julie and the phantoms luke

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jubberry · 3 years

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oohkay let's go tua with those ship asks: fiveya, horrance and alluther.

thanks el i love you

Send me a ship and I'll answer three questions based on if I ship it or not.

fiveya obvs i ship this since this is 90% of my tua drawings lol

1. ill wait ill wait (to be the one) by georgiestauffenberg made me ship it cause holy fuck dude. I dont know if i ship them romantically when i saw them onscreen cause first of all, age difference is kinda weird lmao. Second, they dont rlly interact much outside literally the first couple of eps. But he was so soft for her, and i felt like they had so much unexplored history.

so i looked at fanfics cause i was wondering if ppl still ship it, then i liked the description of this one so i gave it a go.

Basically the premise is that vanya dates a much older man who seems to know a lot about her. And it was amazingly in character and just provided their characters some depth that u wouldnt find outside of a romantic relationship between them. (The implication of five pining while she doesnt know who he is, their missed chances when he time travelled, fives missed chances of living and having a 'normal' life bec of his own hubris, vanyas insecurity and being able to open up bec shes with someone whos known her since childhood). Its so sweet and thats how i was like, oh yep i can do so much more with these two, and what has kept me interested in drawing them etc.

2. My favourite things are the shippers cause i made some friends in the fandom who are super cool and supportive! I dont get super involved in fandoms and usually just watch from afar so finding people to talk to and muck around with in this tiny fandom is super cool 😭

Though thats not to say I havent come across some bad apples in this fandom and things that I dont like. I think thats the importance of carving out a place for yourself and ur friends in fandom tho.

Another thing I like about the ship itself, i just like the grumpy person whos soft for one person trope. Its so cute. I like all the little clues in canon on how their relationship as kids is quite warm, which is interesting cause five is basically the star student and he can be quite cold vs vanya who is the black sheep of the family.

I also like how five likes her powers even when she caused the apocalypse he spent the majority of his life in lol. Like its a popular hc that five is just a wife guy and i love that.

I see vanya as the type who has a lot of love to give, and she sometimes has unrealistic expectations of what her partner can give. Betrayal and lies really angers her, but also when her partner cannot meet her expectations of love she gets very upset bec its also an indication of how shes not good enough, or not loveable enough to be able to have this in the relationship (her insecurity means every failing always comes back to her, even if its out of her control).

I feel like five would be a level-headed person enough in the relationship to not be afraid to say 'vanya ur being stupid' (ie. the s2 confrontation lmao). Also, five's personality means she will never have to doubt his actions bec she knows hes the type who will not give u the moment of the day if hes not interested.

Not to mention they also have the whole apocalypse vs. saviour, hero/villain thing. Theres just a lot to explore!

3. I probably have several. But mostly I dont mind five being a dick to vanya bec first, even if the appeal is hes soft to her hes already kind of a dick in canon lmao. Also, vanya isnt a child. Shes grown and she can handle petty af things like five telling her shes not good at cooking lol. I also dont mind it cause I feel like people are getting too afraid to write... conflict for fear or portraying an abusive relationship or smth. Like, chill. Conflict is fine, resolving it is how u get a story. However in saying that, nobody should be obligated to write any way unless you want to! Fanfic is for comfort so if what your doing is making u happy then its good enough!

horrance which i also ship but i love the platonic and romantic relationship equally:

1. I came in tua in general not shipping anything so Im honestly not sure. I do remember someone doing a meta before s2 came out that was basically how ben acted weird when klaus summoned dave in s1 that made me go 👀 Otherwise, tua s2 rlly made me like them cause tua FED horrance shippers. Like..... the fact that klaus didnt want ben to leave him, and ben knows thats why he stayed 😢 or the fact that klaus was all over him for some reason???? Somebody also mentioned gay ben once and I resonate with that deeply. Like i get that jill exists but i resonate with gay ben deeply.

2. I love their bickering, theyre so cute together. I just like ben being angry bec hes self aware that hes got both shit and amazing taste. Shit bec he cant believes he likes Klaus (and also amazing also bec Klaus). I think the idea of them being kind of underdogs, theyre not rlly leader types and dont want to be, helps them bond together even in platonic horrance. They're both down to earth, and even tho they can annoy each other, they also know if they want a space to feel comfortable its with each other. Theyre not pressured by rivalry over leadership, or any sort of competition.

I love the idea that even tho ben is like klaus's ''conscience'', hes also down for chaos and bitchy. I feel like klaus rlly enabled that side of him, its not exactly a good thing but its p funny lol

3. I know some people think their dynamic is unhealthy but i dont care lol

alluther. So id say i dont ship this, mostly due to the fact that im not invested? Just like all tua ships so far I rlly came out not wanting anything but platonic relationships cause I feel tua doesnt do romance very well. With alluther, theyre so cute but im not super invested in either of their chars so they havent stuck for me. I appreciate seeing them and talking about them tho, and I'm def open to exploring them further.

1. I think tua canon romances are just so lackluster 😔 Idk who writes the romances but I was just like 'nice' but afterwards I dont really think about them. I love their dance scene and the message behind it! Otherwise, theyre sweet like most of the tua romances but im not super invested, same with all the non canon ships.

2. I really feel like tua needs to decide on what their relationship is. Like, just say its incest or not and stick with it 👀 Or if you wanna support it or not, just make up ur mind. I think I would've liked it better if I found the characters more interesting. Allison especially I feel like suffers from the fact that tua just doesn't want to make her ''mean''. They want to make her supportive and are less interested in making her flawed (ie. she should've had a conflict with Vanya in s2, but the writers didnt want to write the girls fighting which is stupid imo and not what that conflict is about).

In regards to Alluther, the scene where Allison gets annoyed at Luther for sleeping with someone else felt out of line. Like, how are you marrying other people and moving on but Luther isn't allowed to? But honestly, I don't mind if they actually just acknowledge it and make it a deliberate part of Allison's trait that Allison can expect a certain loyalty automatically from other people (which can tie in to her childhood being a star, and the rumour).

Luther is a big simp for Allison, which is sweet, but at the same time it would be nice to have him explore himself for a bit, and who he is outside of the academy. Then maybe they can rekindle their relationship again as new people and see where they go from there.

3. I don't hate them, but they're ok. I'm not super invested in them, just like all the tua canon romance. But I wouldn't mind making content for them if I were a bit more invested in their characters. I love their dance scene in s1 and I feel like its super a underrated portrayal of what their relationship is meant to be. I know no one talks about it but it's just such a great scene, and I'm pretty sure the choreographer was into interpretive dance? The scene had a lot of meaning that I don't see people dig around with.

Essentially I'm pretty sure the fairy lights are obviously a throwback to their childhood together, spending time outside of Reggie. So the dance scene kind of symbolized that pocket of space they made for each other in their life (even if theyre far away, or with other people, they will always have that space for each other).

The way they danced was more like playfighting than dancing, which means their relationship isn't sensual. It's more ''pure'', and romantic. Its basically two kids rekindling their love as adults. I also think this is a response to the incest, cause in s1 tua klaus literally said that 'thank god Regg is not their real father' right before Allison and Luther meet lmao. So its kinda like saying Allison x Luther isnt supposed to be 'ohh step sibling hot' but two people who experienced the same trauma as kids and finding comfort with each other (and rekindling that love after many years).

#harcest #fiveya #horrance #i dont think this is anti alluther but i did say i dont ship it #cause im not invested in tua canon romances #i wont tag just in case #ask game #THIS GOT SO LONG

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