Where you are terrible at being a paparazzi and somehow end up on the other side of the camera with harry styles
Word count: 11.5k
Your apartment is a fifth floor walkup in Washington Heights, the kind where the radiator clangs all night in winter and goes silent when you actually need it. You’re at the kitchen table, which is also your desk, your dining room, and sometimes your darkroom when you tape garbage bags over the window. Your laptop is open to an email you’ve read four times already.
You know what it is. You’ve known since the second line, when they mentioned “candid work” and “high-profile subjects.” You also know that your bank account currently contains $143, which is exactly $1,157 short of what you need for rent in nine days, so you’re not really in a position to be precious about it.
summary → y/n’s new roommate is rude, annoying, and impossible to live with, but somewhere between the arguments and late nights, she starts realizing maybe jschlatt isn’t as much of an asshole as she thought.
“He just needs a place for like a month” laura said over the phone earlier that week. “His apartment’s getting renovated or something. He’s a friend of a friend, he’s clean, he works all the time, you’ll barely even notice he’s there.”
y/n agreed without further questions, Mostly because New York rent was criminal and having someone cover part of it for a month sounded nice.
And honestly, she liked having people around.
Her apartment was usually too quiet anyway.
So now she stood by the front door watching a very tall, broad guy drag a duffel bag into her apartment without a smile on his face.
Not nervous.
Not awkward.
Just deeply unimpressed by everything around him.
“…So…pink” he said finally.
Y/n blinked.
Mind you, the only pink thing in the room was the couch.
what had she gotten herself into.
She let out a small awkward laugh anyway.
“Yeah” she said. “It’s my favorite color.”
The silence after that stretched just long enough to become uncomfortable.
“Well” she said. “Your room’s down here.” walking down the hallway.
He followed behind her quietly.
The guest room wasn’t huge, but she’d tried to make it look nice before he arrived. Fresh sheets, clean desk, one of the lamps from the living room moved in there so it didn’t look depressing.
He stepped inside, setting his bag down beside the bed.
Then he just nodded once.
That was it.
Y/n didn’t know why she’d expected a thank you.
She leaned lightly against the doorframe instead.
“If you need anything” she said, “I’m down the hall.”
Without even looking at her while unzipping his bag, he answered, “I doubt I’ll need anything.”
Y/n stared at the side of his head for a second.
God, he was such an asshole.
She pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to say anything.
Instead she just nodded once.
“Okay then.”
And with that, she turned and walked out, shutting the guest room door behind her before heading straight to her own room.
The second her bedroom door closed, she grabbed her phone.
Laura answered almost immediately.
“I’m going to kill you” were the first words to fly out of y/n’s mouth.
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The first few days of living with Schlatt taught Y/n two things very quickly.
One, he was actually a surprisingly decent roommate.
And two, he was still unbelievably irritating.
He cleaned up after himself, never left dishes in the sink, barely made noise, and spent most of his time shut away in the guest room. Sometimes she’d forget he was even there until she heard heavy footsteps down the hallway at two in the morning.
Tonight, Y/n sat at the kitchen counter with her laptop open in front of her, fingers hovering tiredly over the keyboard while some random YouTube video played quietly from her phone beside her.
The apartment was dark except for the small light above the stove.
She was halfway through fixing an email when she heard a door open down the hall.
A second later, Schlatt walked into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and an old hoodie.
He looked half asleep.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked straight to the fridge and opened it, staring inside for a few seconds.
Then he sighed.
“Do you ever go grocery shopping?”
Y/n’s fingers paused over her keyboard.
“There’s pizza in there if you’re hungry” she said, already feeling herself getting irritated.
“Yeah, like two slices.”
Something about his tone made her jaw tighten.
“Well, sorry if my fridge isn’t up to your standards.”
He shut the fridge with a little more force than necessary.
“I’m just saying there’s no actual food in here.”
“You know you live here too, right?”
“I’ve been busy.”
Y/n looked up from her laptop finally.
“Oh, and I haven’t?”
He let out a slow breath through his nose, like she was already exhausting him, which only made her irritation worse.
“Why are you getting defensive?”
“Because every time you speak it sounds like you’re criticizing something.”
“Well I’m not” he said. “It was just an observation.”
Y/n laughed once under her breath, but there wasn’t anything amused about it.
“You don’t have to be such an asshole all the time, you know.”
That actually made him pause.
He looked at her properly for the first time since walking into the kitchen.
“…I’m not trying to be.”
“Well you’re doing a fantastic job anyway.”
Before he could answer, Y/n shut her laptop with a sharp snap and stood up from the counter.
Schlatt frowned slightly as she grabbed it.
“Where are you going?”
She looked at him like the answer was obvious.
“My room. Where else?”
Then she walked past him and down the hallway without another word.
A second later, her bedroom door shut, leaving Schlatt standing alone in the kitchen.
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The next afternoon, Y/n came home exhausted.
The meeting she’d spent all morning stressing over had dragged on almost two hours longer than it was supposed to, and all she wanted now was to change into sweatpants and go lay in bed for the rest of the night.
She dropped her bag by the couch and walked towards the kitchen, already reaching for the fridge handle before she pulled it open and paused.
The fridge was full.
Not kinda full.
Actually full.
Containers stacked neatly on one shelf, drinks lined up properly, fruit in the drawers, frozen stuff shoved into the freezer above.
Y/n just stared at it for a second.
Then she noticed the sticky note stuck to the fridge door.
You’re welcome.
She immediately closed her eyes.
“Oh my god” she muttered to herself.
Not because he bought groceries.
That part actually would’ve been nice.
It was the note.
The stupid fucking note.
it felt so condensing.
She ripped the sticky note off the fridge, crumpled it in her fist, and tossed it onto the counter.
Then, out of pure stubbornness, she grabbed absolutely nothing from the fridge.
Not the drinks.
Not the snacks.
Nothing.
Instead she ordered takeout an hour later.
By the time Schlatt got home that night, the apartment was quiet.
He dropped his keys onto the counter before opening the fridge.
Everything looked basically untouched.
He frowned slightly.
A little while later, he heard Y/n’s bedroom door open.
She walked into the kitchen in oversized pajama pants and a tank top, barely acknowledging him as she grabbed her water bottle off the counter.
Schlatt leaned back against the fridge.
“You haven’t used anything.”
Y/n unscrewed the lid to her bottle.
“What?”
“The groceries.”
She glanced at the fridge for half a second before looking back at the sink.
“Oh.”
Then she shrugged.
“It’s yours, why would I?”
Schlatt stared at her.
“…I bought it for the apartment.”
Y/n let out a quiet laugh at that.
“You left a ‘you’re welcome’ note on the fridge, Schlatt.”
“It was a joke.”
“well it didn’t feel like one”
He actually looked a little offended.
“jesus- you’re impossible you know that?”
Y/n turned the faucet on.
“I’m impossible?” she repeated with a short sarcastic laugh. “That’s funny, Schlatt.”
“Why are you mad?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused now. “I thought I was doing something nice.”
“It was nice until you left that passive aggressive note on the fridge.”
“It wasn’t passive aggressive.”
“It literally said ‘you’re welcome.’”
“Yeah” he said, “because you were complaining there was no food.”
Y/n turned toward him immediately.
“I was complaining about YOU.”
That shut him up for a second.
She tightened the lid onto her bottle before setting it down on the counter and pointing at him.
“See? This is what I mean” she said. “You do this thing where you act like everything you say is completely objective and everyone else is just crazy for reacting to it.”
Schlatt crossed his arms.
“You are overreacting.”
Y/n just stared at him.
Then she nodded once slowly.
“There it is again” she said quietly. “I can’t do this, Schlatt.”
Before he could respond, she turned and walked out of the kitchen.
A second later, her bedroom door shut down the hall, leaving him standing there alone.
Again.
The apartment went quiet.
Schlatt stayed where he was for a moment before his eyes dropped to the water bottle she’d left sitting on the counter.
He stared at it.
Then, with a quiet sigh, he grabbed it and headed down the hallway to her room.
Schlatt lifted his hand to knock.
Then paused.
He stood there for a second staring at the door, thinking about the look on her face in the kitchen.
How tired she’d sounded.
The last thing he wanted right now was to annoy her even more.
Slowly, he lowered his hand again.
After another second, he leaned down and set the bottle carefully on the floor outside her door before turning and walking back down the hallway.
A few hours later, Y/n finally remembered she’d left her water bottle in the kitchen.
With a tired sigh, she opened her bedroom door
and nearly tripped over it.
She looked down quickly.
Her bottle sat on the floor right outside her room.
Y/n stared at it for a second before realizing Schlatt must’ve been the one who brought it over.
Something weird twisted in her chest for a moment.
She ignored it immediately.
Then she bent down, grabbed the bottle, and went back into her room, shutting the door behind her quietly.
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she didn’t know why she went on that stupid blind date, she’d been in such a dry spell she thought that maybe this would be good.
bad is an understatement.
The guy spent the first twenty minutes talking about himself.
The next twenty talking about his ex.
And somehow, unbelievably, it still got worse.
At one point she mentioned ordering dessert and he laughed a little before saying,
“yeah you don’t seem like the type to say no to sweets.”
By the end of the date, Y/n genuinely felt sick with embarrassment.
So now she stood outside her apartment door past midnight trying very hard not to cry over some random asshole she’d known for less than two hours.
Which honestly just made her feel worse.
She shoved the front door open harder than necessary before kicking her shoes off near the couch, eyes already burning in that awful way that told her if someone spoke to her right now she’d probably cry.
The apartment was dark except for the kitchen light.
Schlatt looked up from where he stood by the counter the second she walked in.
“…Jesus” he said immediately. “What happened to you?”
“Not the time” she muttered quickly, already walking toward the hallway.
“The date was that bad?”
“Schlatt.”
“What’d he do?”
Y/n kept walking. “I seriously do not wanna talk right now.”
Instead of letting it go, he followed after her.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Before she could reach her room, Schlatt stepped in front of her, blocking the hallway.
Y/n looked up at him immediately, already irritated and emotional enough that it felt overwhelming all at once.
“Schlatt, get the hell out of my face.”
“No” he said easily. “I think I’m good right here.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“You are so unbelievably annoying.” she said, her voice slightly shaking now.
“And you look like you’re about five seconds away from crying, so clearly something happened.”
Y/n immediately looked away at that.
For a second he just looked at her.
Then, quieter this time, he said “What did he do? did he say something to you?”
Y/n laughed once under her breath, but it sounded awful. Embarrassed more than amused.
“Apparently ordering dessert was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.”
Schlatt frowned immediately.
“What?”
“He made some comment about it. Said something like you don’t seem like the type to say no to sweets.” she said quickly, shrugging like she didn’t care even though her voice was already tightening. “Whatever. It doesn’t even matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t. That’s a shitty thing to say.”
“Can you move?”
“No.”
Y/n let out a frustrated breath, looking away from him.
Schlatt’s expression softened slightly then. “Hey” he said quieter this time. “talk to me”
“He spent the entire night talking to me like I was so stupid” she admitted quietly. “And every time I actually knew what I was talking about, he looked surprised by it, like it surprised him that I was actually intelligent”
Schlatt stared at her for a second.
“…So he was a moron.”
Despite herself, her mouth twitched slightly.
“He also spent twenty minutes talking about crypto.”
“Oh, so like clinically a moron.”
That got a laugh out of her.
A small one, but enough.
Schlatt noticed immediately.
A little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked down at her again.
“He had no idea what he was talking about” he said. “He’s an idiot, okay?”
Y/n looked down for a second, arms still crossed tightly over herself.
“i know..It still sucked though”
“Yeah” Schlatt said quietly. “I know.”
For a moment neither of them said anything.
Then, finally, Schlatt stepped back, moving out of the doorway and giving her room to get to her door again.
“Go to bed” he said. “You’ll feel less awful tomorrow.”
“Thanks” she said softly. “Goodnight, Schlatt.”
She smiled just a little before disappearing into her room.
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The next couple of days felt…different.
Not drastically.
Schlatt was still annoying.
Y/n was still convinced he enjoyed arguing just to argue.
But something had shifted slightly after that night in the hallway.
The apartment felt less tense now.
Less like two strangers trying not to step on each other’s toes.
It started with little things.
Y/n came home one afternoon to find takeout sitting on the kitchen counter.
No note this time.
Just her favorite order from the place down the street.
When she looked at him from across the living room, confused, Schlatt barely glanced up from his phone.
“They gave me two bags by accident.”
She stared at him for a second.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Eat your food.”
They still bickered constantly.
If anything, maybe more than before.
But now it felt different.
Lighter.
Like neither of them actually expected the other person to leave halfway through the conversation anymore.
One night, Schlatt was sitting on the couch editing something on his laptop while Y/n lay sprawled across the other end watching some awful reality show.
“This cannot be real” Schlatt muttered eventually, finally looking up from his screen.
Y/n looked over immediately.
“Oh, it’s real” she said. “These people are deeply unwell.”
Schlatt stared at the screen for another second. “You watch this voluntarily?”
Y/n grinned a little, shifting further into the couch cushions. “Mhmm course I do, it’s entertaining” she said she opened her laptop to work. “Hey i actually need a second opinion on something if you have the time” she added.
Schlatt shut his laptop halfway, “sure on what?”
Y/n turned her laptop toward him from across the couch.
“I had to edit these promo pictures for work and I can’t tell if I’ve been staring at them too long or if they actually look weird.”
he squinted immediately. “I can’t see shit from over here.”
“Then come look at it, grandpa.”
He gave her an unimpressed look but shifted anyway, moving across the couch until he dropped down beside her.
Close beside her.
Closer than he meant to, probably.
Y/n suddenly became very aware of it.
The warmth of his shoulder against hers.
She swallowed once and tried to focus on the phone in her hand instead.
“See?” she said quietly, pulling up the picture again. “Does the lighting look weird?”
Schlatt leaned closer to look.
His arm pressed against hers fully now.
For a second he actually focused on the photo.
Then his eyes flicked upward toward her instead.
And kind of stayed there.
Y/n looked up at the exact wrong moment.
The apartment suddenly felt way too quiet.
Schlatt’s eyes dropped briefly to her lips before he caught himself.
“I-it’s good” he said finally, voice lower now. Rougher somehow.
“Yeah?” she asked softly.
Her eyes flicked down to his mouth for half a second before meeting his eyes again.
“Yeah” he whispered.
Neither of them moved.
The reality show kept playing quietly in the background completely ignored now.
Y/n could actually hear her own heartbeat.
Schlatt looked at her for another few seconds.
“Schlatt” she whispered.
“Yeah?” he whispered back immediately.
Her eyes flicked down to his mouth before she could stop herself.
For a second neither of them moved at all, like both of them were waiting for the other person to change their mind first.
But Y/n didn’t move away.
And neither did he.
Slowly, Schlatt lifted one hand, almost hesitant for the first time since she’d met him, brushing his fingers lightly against the side of her face.
“Tell me to stop” he said quietly.
The fact that he asked nearly ruined her.
Instead of answering, Y/n grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his.
It wasn’t graceful.
They bumped into each other a little at first, awkward only because of how sudden it was, but then Schlatt made this quiet surprised sound against her mouth before kissing her back properly.
And god.
He kissed like he argued.
Confident. Intense. Like he wanted the last word.
His hand slid to her jaw carefully, thumb brushing against her cheek while hers stayed tangled in the fabric of his hoodie.
Y/n shifted closer without thinking, one of her knees brushing against his leg as she kissed him passionately.
Schlatt’s hand tightened slightly against her jaw before sliding down to her waist.
Then suddenly he was pulling her towards him.
Y/n let out a soft startled gasp against his mouth as he lifted her easily, guiding her onto his lap against the couch cushions without breaking the kiss for more than half a second.
“Jesus christ” she whispered breathlessly, hands instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders.
A quiet grin pulled at the corner of his mouth for just a second before he kissed her again.
One of his hands rested against her waist while the other stayed warm against the side of her neck, thumb brushing lightly against her skin every few seconds like he couldn’t stop touching her now that he’d started.
Eventually Schlatt pulled back just enough to look at her properly.
Her hair was messy now, lips slightly swollen, cheeks warm from kissing him.
He stared at her for a second too long.
“What?” she whispered, smiling a little.
He shook his head once, still looking at her like he was trying to figure something out.
Then, quieter this time, like it slipped out before he could stop it. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”
Y/n’s breath caught slightly.
And then she felt it, felt him under her.
Her eyes flicked downward for half a second before immediately looking back at him again.
A slow smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Oh? I’m that beautiful?” she whispered.
Schlatt’s eyes dropped away from hers immediately, the slightest bit of embarrassment flashing across his face.
Y/n shifted slightly against his lap on purpose this time, and the low sound that left his throat almost made her lose composure completely.
“So…” she said softly, leaning closer until her lips barely brushed his. “You gonna take me to your room, big guy?”
Schlatt stared at her for a second like his brain had completely short circuited.
Then, without another word, his hands tightened around her waist as he stood up from the couch with her still in his arms.
Y/n let out a surprised laugh immediately, instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders.
Schlatt pushed his bedroom door open with one hand before carrying her inside, kicking it shut behind him.
Y/n’s smile softened slightly at the look on his face.
“What?” she whispered.
He shook his head once.
“You keep looking at me like that…” he murmured, putting her down and stepping closer until the back of her legs brushed the edge of the bed, “and I’m gonna forget how to act like a normal person.”
Y/n tilted her head slightly, looking up at him.
“Yeah?” she whispered.
Schlatt’s hand settled against her waist again, warm and steady, but she could still see the restraint in the way he held himself back.
So she leaned a little closer. “Then show me what you got”
the last bit of composure he had left disappeared completely.
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It had been almost a week now.
A week of stolen kisses in the kitchen while waiting for coffee to brew.
a week of making out on the couch while a movie played in the background.
A week of waking up tangled in his sheets after swearing she’d go back to her own room.
It felt weirdly domestic.
Y/n would come home exhausted from work and find him already in the kitchen making something lazy for dinner, complaining dramatically the entire time while she laughed at him from the counter.
Sometimes they’d eat on the couch.
Sometimes at the kitchen island.
Sometimes dinner got completely forgotten because one of them kissed the other halfway through a conversation and suddenly nothing else mattered anymore.
It should’ve felt temporary.
But it didn’t.
That was the problem.
Because there was only one week left before he moved back to his apartment.
One week before this ended.
And Y/n hated how much that thought had started sitting heavily in her chest.
Tonight, the room was quiet except for the faint sound of rain against the windows.
Y/n lay curled against Schlatt’s bare chest, one of his arms loosely around her while his fingers traced absentminded patterns against her shoulder.
“what are you thinking about, toots?” he asked quietly, looking down at her.
“hmm?” she murmured, pulling herself out of her thoughts.
“I said what are you thinking about?” he repeated, brushing a piece of hair back away from her face.
Y/n hesitated for a second.
Then she sat up slowly, pulling the blankets with her to cover herself as she shifted to face him properly.
Schlatt’s expression changed immediately when he noticed the look on her face.
“what’s going to happen when you move out?” she asked suddenly.
For a second he just looked at her.
“what do you mean?”
Y/n looked down briefly at the blanket gathered in her hands before forcing herself to continue.
“you know what I mean, schaltt” she said quietly. “Like what’s gonna happen with…us. If there even is an us.”
God, even saying it out loud made her feel stupid.
Vulnerable in a way she hated.
Schlatt sat up properly then too, leaning back against the headboard as he looked at her.
“okay first of all” he said immediately, brows pulling together slightly, “of course there’s an us. Did you think this was just sex?”
Y/n looked at him carefully.
“no” she admitted softly. “Did you?”
“Hell no” he said so fast it almost made her laugh. “Y/n, I actually really like you.”
Something warm twisted painfully in her chest at that.
Her smile turned small and almost shy.
“you do?”
“yeah” he said, looking at her like the answer should’ve been obvious by now. “Even when I move back to my apartment, I wanna keep seeing you.”
Y/n felt herself relax slightly for what felt like the first time all night.
Schlatt rubbed the back of his neck once before continuing.
“I was actually thinking I’d take you out on the last night I’m here” he admitted. “Been trying to figure out how to ask without sounding stupid.”
That made her laugh quietly.
“You? Sounding stupid? Never.”
“shut up” he muttered automatically with a small laugh.
Y/n smiled, moving closer again until she was back against his chest.
Schlatt wrapped an arm around her immediately, pulling her against him like it was instinct now.
After a second he pressed a kiss lightly against the top of her head.
“for the record” he murmured quietly, “I’ve been freaking out about this too.”
Y/n tilted her head up slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah” he said. “Thought maybe you’d wake up one day and realize I was annoying as hell and kick me out before the month was even over.”
She laughed softly against his chest.
“You are annoying as hell.”
“Yeah, see?”
“But” she said quietly, looking up at him again, “I kinda like you anyway.”
The smile that pulled at the corner of Schlatt’s mouth that looked almost unfairly soft.
“Good” he murmured before kissing her slowly.
author’s note: first time writing for schlatt kinda nervous…also I am on a trip and haven’t proof read this so excuse me if there’s any mistakes :p
hi guys! im back :))))) im going to try and get to the requests i have this week, so if you guys want me to write something pls send it in my requests box <3
jschlatt x pop star!reader, platonic!ted nivison x reader
Desc: You were always busy with pop-stardom, but finally you had a free moment to go onto chuckle sandwhich's Chuckle Week, but little did you know, Schlatt was your biggest fan
wc:1.5k
Your brother Ted had asked you plenty of times to go on his podcast with his friend Schlatt, but you’d always been busy with press and promo for your upcoming projects. Now, you finally have a break from stuff.
"Yeah," you said casually. "Oh, okay, maybe another ti- Wait, yes?" Ted replied, half-listening at first, expecting your usual answer, but then realizing what you actually said.
“Yeah, I'm free finally,” you said
“Oh my god, I'm so happy. Thank you, Y/N. You won't regret it,” Ted said to you, hugging you
“Yeah, I doubt I will.” You giggled at Ted
…
One thing you didn't know was that Schlatt knew who you were. Of course, he knew Ted had a sister, but little did you know he was one of your biggest fans.
You’d been a singer since you were 19, growing to Taylor Swift levels of fame, and Ted never seemed to mention that to anyone, not wanting to get his fame from being “Y/N L/N’s Brother”.
He’d started his channel around the same time you started getting popular; you two were in it together, the world just didn't know.
Schlatt, on the other hand, had discovered your music around the same time you started, watching all of your music videos, interviews, and whatnot, but he was there from the start. He’d been to plenty of your shows, yet he had never met you.
…
“My sister's coming on Chuckle Week. She finally said yes,” Ted said to Schlatt across the diner booth.
Schlatt was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time waiting for their food to arrive. He looked up at Ted.
“That's cool, maybe she’ll get some clout for being your sister,” Schlatt said, laughing, half joking.
“It's crazy, I’ve never met her. I’m kind of excited,” He continued.
“Yeah, she's a pretty busy person,” Ted said, hoping Schlatt wouldn't dig any deeper.
“When’s she coming into town?” Schlatt asked him.
Schlatt had traveled to LA for Chuckle Week a few days ago.
“She actually lives here, but I think she’s filming with us Tuesday,” Ted said
“Damn, she's not in Massachusetts anymore? What’d she move out here for, certainly not to be with you,” Schlatt joked.
“Oh fuck you,” Ted joked back. “But yeah, she moved out here for work, I'm not even sure what she does,” He continued.
That wasn't a complete lie; he REALLY didn't know all of the ins and outs of being a world-famous pop star.
“Maybe I’ll pry when she comes on the pod,” Schlatt said. realizing the waiter was bringing out their food.
…
Ted and Schlatt arrived at the studio bright and early to help set up everything for the day's shoot. They’d had quite a few people on yesterday, filming multiple episodes in one day, but today the only person they were filming with was you. Schlatt found that a little odd.
“So ted?” Schlatt called out to Ted, looking at the sheet which laid out the filming schedule.
“Yeah?” Ted yelled back, still setting up a little way away.
“Why is your sister the only one on here today?” Schlatt questioned him
“I thought it’d be good to spend some quality time with her today, I didn't want to rush her,” Ted said, walking over to where Schlatt was
“Hmm, yeah, no, I agree,” Schlatt replied
Just then, Ted’s phone buzzed against the table, and he glanced down at it.
“She just texted that she's here,” Ted said, still looking down at his phone, standing up.
Schlatt didn’t look up at first. “Alright.”
“I’m gonna go let her in real quick,” Ted continued, heading toward the door, shutting it behind him.
“Yeah, yeah.”
And just like that, Schlatt was all alone in the studio.
Quiet, taking a minute in it, prepping to socialize with someone other than Ted.
He leaned back in his chair, spinning around in it, looking around the room.
His eyes landed on Ted’s phone.
Still lit up.
The message still hadn’t disappeared yet.
Y/N: I’m outside :)
Schlatt’s brain didn’t even react at first.
Because that name wasn't just a random name, it was the name he’d had all over his playlist, his old room, and his YouTube recommended tab.
He stared at Ted’s Phone, trying to rationalize with himself that it was a different Y/N, why would Ted know Y/N L/N? He’s never mentioned her before in all the time he's known him. Maybe his sister has the same name as her.
Right?
…
Schlatt heard the door handle click, signaling someone was about to open it, his head then snapped up, adrenaline on high alert.
and then the door opened
You walked in right behind Ted, mid-sentence.
“I wasn’t sure if this was the right building at first, the sign was kinda”
You looked up, locking eyes with Schlatt
And everything in his head went silent.
You were THE Y/N L/N
And you were standing right in front of him.
It wasn't a slow realization; it hit him all at once like a truck.
“Oh—Oh my god.” Schlatt thought
Ted, completely unaware of his internal collapse happening three feet away, walked in to the studio like nothing was wrong.
“Schlatt, this is my sister—”
“I know,” he replied, cutting Ted off, still in a somewhat daze.
Ted stopped.
“…You know?” he repeated, confused.
Schlatt didn’t look at Ted.
He couldn’t, because he was looking right at you, scared if he looked away, this might be a figment of his imagination, and you’d disappear.
“Yeah,” he said, a little hesitant now, “I know who that is.”
You blinked, a little caught off guard by his response, but you were not uncomfortable.
Just… curious.
“Oh,” you said softly, a small smile forming. “Hi.”
Hearing you speak.
“Jesus Christ.” Schlatt thought
Schlatt let out a short, disbelieving breath, running a hand over his face before looking back at you again, shaking his head slightly like he was trying to wake up from this crazy dream.
“No way,” he muttered.
Ted’s eyes darted between the two of you.
“…Wait,” he said slowly. “You actually know who she is?”
Schlatt let out a laugh, half doubtful, half are you serious right now.
“Dude.”
Ted frowned. “What?”
“That’s—” Schlatt gestured toward you like the answer was obvious. “That’s her.”
Ted stared at him.
Then at you.
Then back at him.
“…Oh,” he said.
A pause.
“…OH.”
You crossed your arms lightly, amused now, watching the realization hit your brother in real time.
“You didn’t tell him about me?” you asked.
Ted pointed at Schlatt defensively. “I didn’t think I had to!”
Schlatt laughed again, still in disbelief, pacing a step or two like he had too much energy all of a sudden.
“Didn’t think you had to?” he repeated. “Ted, I have listened to her music for what, like years?”
Ted blinked. “Okay, I didn’t know that!”
“Yes, you did!” Schlatt shot back. “I literally made you listen to al—”
He cut himself off, glancing at you, remembering you were standing right there.
“…Hi,” he said again, this time a little more composed, but still very much not normal.
You smiled, softer this time.
“Hi.”
There was a brief pause.
And then
“I’ve been to your shows,” he blurted.
Immediate regret hit his face.
“Sorry.. hi-I mean. Fuck I already said hi, I don’t—” he exhaled sharply, laughing at himself. “This is-this is weird. Not weird, just—”
“Overwhelming?” you offered gently.
“Yeah,” he said instantly, relieved you finished that thought for him. “Yeah, that.”
You nodded, like you understood more than he expected.
“Fair.”
Ted looked between the two of you, completely stunned.
“I feel like I missed, like… a lot of lore here,” he said.
Schlatt pointed at him without looking away from you. “You missed everything, apparently.”
You laughed softly at that, and Schlatt visibly froze for half a second again.
Because that laugh, God, it could kill him.
“Sorry,” you said, glancing between them. “I didn’t realize I was, like… a surprise.”
“Oh, you weren’t,” Ted said quickly.
“You absolutely were,” Schlatt cut in.
Ted ignored him. “I just didn’t think to, uhm… mention it.”
Schlatt stared at him.
“Your sister is THAT Y/N L/N, and you didn’t think to mention it?”
Ted shrugged. “I don’t lead with it!”
Schlatt let out another incredulous laugh, shaking his head.
“That’s insane.”
Then he looked back at you again.
Still a little stunned.
Still processing.
But smiling now.
“Okay,” he said, taking a breath like he was finally settling into reality. “Alright. This is..This is cool. This is fine. We can work with this.”
He paused, thinking of what he was going to say next.
“…I’m gonna try really hard to act normal.”
You tilted your head slightly, a playful look in your eyes.
“Good luck with that.”
And just like that, whatever this episode of the podcast was supposed to be, it had already gone completely off the rails.
she's baaaaaackkkk
finals are slowly dying down, the semester is coming to an end, trust i see all of the requests for pt.3 of pen pals! i will have it soon, but pls give me some ideas for it :) this is just something quick, but pls let me know if you want another part :))))) ilysmmmmmm
desc: You and Schlatt had been pen pals since fifth grade, and you guys decided to finally meet in person. There is one small issue. Your brother is one of his biggest fans
PT.2 of 2
cw: fluff
wc: 1.4k
*.★.*♡ .* ★ *.*♡ .* ★
You texted Schlatt that night to check in, apologizing for dipping out so soon after dropping him off. You had to welcome your family in and have dinner. Of course, he told you it was okay. He was always too good to you.
You caught yourself smiling down at your phone, and your mom noticed from across the table.
“Still texting Jonathan, I see?” she said teasingly. She’d seen your relationship with him grow over the years, and she knew of your crush on him.
“Yeah,” you said, a little embarrassed, but you couldn’t help it.
“How's he doing? By the way,” Your dad popped in
“Pretty good, actually. I have to tell you guys, something,” you said, hoping you wouldn’t regret it.
“Yeah?” your mom said. Everyone looked at you, even your brother, who finally looked up from his phone, probably hoping for some drama.
“Well... he actually flew in today to meet me in person and hang out,” you said, watching their reactions.
Your brother let out a laugh. You turned to look at him, already bracing yourself.
“He actually flew in just to 'hang out' with you?” he said laughing.
Your mom shot him a disapproving look.
“It’s okay, Mom, but yeah, he did,” you said, knowing your brother was just being stupid.
“Why didn’t you say anything before? Where is he staying? How long? I’d love to meet him,” your mom chimed in, asking way too many questions at once.
You giggled nervously, not sure how to answer all that.
“Well, he’s at the Ritz downtown,” you said, watching your parents’ eyes go wide. “And he told me this morning he didn’t book a return flight, so he’s here for a bit.”
Your parents looked at each other, probably wondering what was going on.
“The Ritz? How can he afford that?” your parents laughed. “What does he do for work?”
Shit. How were you supposed to answer that with your brother sitting two feet away, your JSchlatt-obsessed brother?
“He... does software engineering at some remote company,” you replied, thinking quickly on your feet.
You knew he went to college for computer science, so it wasn’t a total lie.
“Oh,” They said, not even questioning it.
Phew.
“So when can we meet him?” they asked, all eyes on you.
“Um, I don’t know, guys. I don’t think he’s prepared for that,” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I can text and ask him, but I’m not sure.” You pulled out your phone, careful not to show his contact name to anyone.
“SCHLATT”
“SCHLATT”
“SOS”
he replied quickly
“WHATS GOING ON”
You laughed a little, seeing him match your energy.
“MY PARENTS WANT TO MEET YOU WHAT DO I SAY”
“i mean im down but if it make you uncomfortable, just tell them i had something come up”
You thought to yourself, they had to meet him eventually. Now was probably the perfect time to just get it over with.
“When?”
“Tomorrow?” he replied
“Yeah, I'll tell them and keep you updated.”
“good night, y/n, love you”
“Love you too, J.”
You smiled down at your phone, heart fluttering a little.
“Tomorrow,” you said to your family.
....
You told your parents you were running errands and then bringing Schlatt back with you, but in reality, you ended up in Schlatt's hotel room.
You two ended up ordering room service and watching a movie that was playing in the background.
Somehow, you’d ended up cuddled up with him on the bed, talking about what he was up to back in New York, and him asking about you.
“So are you ready?” he asked, looking down at your head on his shoulder.
You looked up to him, “I guess,” you replied, hesitantly, “I just...” you paused, looking up to think of how you wanted to continue your thought, “I don't want him to scare you away,” you said
He sat up a bit, which led you to sit up off his shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, putting his hand on yours, “no one, not even your brother, who doesn't even know I know you.”
You looked at him, shocked and in awe at his reaction. You started to tear up a little at his response, trying to blink it away before he noticed
“y/n/n, come here,” he said, opening his arms to you, embracing you in his arms.
“sorry” you muttered into his chest
“whats there to be sorry for” he replied
“I don’t know... I-I...” you let go from the hug, sitting up to face him, wiping your tears off your face with the back of your hand.
“I just... don’t have many friends I’m this close to, and this is something that’s been stable for most of my life,” you said, voice a little shaky.
“I just don’t want the fact that my brother is your fan to ruin... this,” you said, pointing between the two of you.
“Y/N, your insane to think that your brother would ruin anything between us”
...
You walked up the stairs to your apartment, Schlatt following close behind, his footsteps echoing in the hallway.
“This is a cute place,” he said, glancing around and admiring the old-school vibe of your apartment building.
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” you replied, finally reaching your door.
You turned to look up at him. “You ready?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.
“Ready as i can be” he replied smiling at you
You slid your key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open, heart pounding a little.
“I’m home!” you shouted, announcing your return to the whole apartment.
Both of your parents walked to the door, immediately noticing the tall figure standing next to you.
“Hi sweetie, and this must be Jonathan!” your mom said, smiling at the fact that your pen pal from fifth grade was actually standing there in your doorway.
She went in for a hug, and he hugged her back, a little awkward but sweet.
“Hello, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s so nice to meet both of you,” he said, letting go of the hug and shaking your dad’s hand.
You and Schlatt both heard footsteps coming from the guest room, and you glanced at each other, bracing yourselves.
Your brother’s voice echoed from the hall. “Y/N, are you watching Schlatt? Why do I hear—” He turned the corner, stopping dead when he saw Schlatt. His eyes went wide.
You and Schlatt couldn’t help but laugh. Your parents looked confused.
“This is Jonathan, Henry,” you said.
Schlatt grinned. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot.”
Henry stared, then blurted, “Wait, what? Is this a joke?”
Your mom stepped in, frowning. “Someone please explain.”
Schlatt squeezed your hand and spoke up. “I’m not actually a software engineer. I do YouTube. Henry, I know you’re a fan—Y/N just didn’t want to make a big deal of it.”
There was a beat of silence. Your mom’s face softened, your dad looked lost, and Henry just stared in disbelief.
Once the initial shock faded, everyone made their way to the dinner table. Henry kept sneaking glances at Schlatt, barely able to hide how curious he was. Your parents watched the two of you with a mix of intrigue and relief as everyone settled in.
The conversation turned nostalgic quickly.
“So, you’re the Jonathan we’ve heard about for years,” your mom said, smiling as she passed the bread. “I had no idea you two would actually meet in person someday.”
Schlatt grinned. “Yeah, we go way back. Fifth grade, right?” He nudged you playfully.
You laughed. “He used to send me the worst jokes on lined notebook paper.”
Henry piped up, “You never said he was famous!”
You shrugged, cheeks warm. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal.”
Your dad, still a bit bewildered, asked, “So, you two just kept writing all these years?”
You nodded. “Pretty much. texts, letters, the occasional meme—”
“Mostly memes,” Schlatt interrupted, earning a laugh from everyone.
Dinner got easier after that. You all swapped stories about school, about the old letters stashed in your closet, about your inside jokes. Schlatt charmed your parents with stories about his so-called normal life, dodging YouTube talk unless Henry brought it up.
When the meal wound down, and everyone lingered over dessert, you and Schlatt ended up alone in the kitchen, tidying up together. The clink of dishes was the only sound for a minute.
He glanced at you, softer now that it was just the two of you. “Feels crazy, doesn’t it? All those years writing, and now I’m here.”
You smiled. “I always wondered what it’d be like if we met for real.”
Schlatt hesitated, his voice quiet. “I should’ve told you sooner about the YouTube thing. I just… didn’t want it to mess up what we had.”
You shook your head. “You’re still my Jonathan. That’s what matters.”
He grinned, relief clear in his eyes. “And you’re still the best pen pal I ever had.”
You laughed, feeling braver. “Well, maybe we could be more than pen pals now.”
He reached for your hand, fingers lacing with yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
For a second, both of you just stood there, smiling at each other, and it felt like all those years of letters and distance just melted away.
*.★.*♡ .* ★ *.*♡ .* ★
I don't know if I like the ending 😣, pls let me know if u guys want an epilogue
desc: You and Schlatt had been pen pals since fifth grade, and you guys decided to finally meet in person. There is one small issue. Your brother is one of his biggest fans
PT.1 of 2
cw: fluff
wc: 1.4k
*.★.*♡ .* ★ *.*♡ .* ★
You started writing to Jonathan back in fifth grade, when Mrs. Lewis handed out those fresh sheets of lined paper, telling everyone we were getting pen pals. You were so sure you’d get someone from somewhere wild—Europe, maybe South America if you were lucky. But nope. Just Jonathan, a kid, a few states away in New York. Not exactly the adventure you pictured, but I guess it worked out.
At first, it was just another school assignment. You wrote about your favorite snacks, complained about math homework, not really expecting much. But Jonathan actually wrote back. Turns out, you both loved video games, music, and a bunch of other random stuff. It was weird—how easy it was to talk to him, even just on paper.
You kept writing, even after everyone else forgot about their pen pals. The letters got longer, messier, packed with inside jokes and secrets you never told anyone else. It was just you and him, sharing everything—even if it was only through ink and paper. And when you finally got phones in high school? Texting and calling felt unreal. Like suddenly, he was right there, just a buzz away.
He kept you updated on everything going on in his life. You were the first one he told about wanting to start on YouTube, and he’d text you about how it was going, how he was starting to blow up after dropping out. You always supported his dreams, no matter what.
One small thing: your younger brother was basically his biggest fan. He knew about Jonathan, but he had no clue he was actually Jschlatt. You never mentioned how Jonathan told you to start calling him by the nickname everyone knew him by. Around your brother, you just kept calling him Jonathan. No way were you letting your brother ruin this with his fan-boy energy.
Of course, you told Schlatt about it and how your brother would totally flip if he ever found out. Schlatt just laughed, loving your brother’s shenanigans.
...
Your phone started ringing, and you glanced down to see who was FaceTiming you.
“Schlatt” the name popped up.
You picked up right away, barely letting it ring. You always did.
“Hi,” you said, grinning at your screen, not knowing your best friend was smiling just as wide on the other side.
“Hi y/n, how are you?” he said, smile evident in his phone.
“I'm good?” you said, giving him a look. “What are you planning?” You knew that tone. Whenever he called like this, he was definitely up to something.
“Sooo, I had an idea.” He watched your face, trying to read your expression.
You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for whatever wild thing he was about to say.
“Okay? Go on,” you said, bracing yourself for the worst.
“You know how we’ve been planning to meet in real life for years, but something always came up?”
You nodded, still not sure where he was going with this.
“Well... what if I told you I booked the soonest flight to Y/S/N to come see you?” he said, smiling nervously. You could tell he was worried about how you’d react to the sudden news.
Your eyes went wide. “WHAT THE FUCK?” you yelled, not even trying to hide your shock.
“Yeah...” he said, still looking a little worried.
"I would say you're insane, but I'm so excited to see you," you said, the shock fading as it finally hit you—you were about to meet your best friend for the first time. But then something else crashed into your brain, and your eyes went wide all over again.
“Schlatt?” you said, staring at his face, totally zoned out for a second.
You watched the smile he had after hearing how excited you were falter just a little.
“What?” he asked, worry creeping into his voice.
“My family is coming into town this weekend, and I offered up my guest room...”
“Okay? What’s so bad about that? I wasn’t planning to stay at your place, I booked a hotel ro—”
“No, no, no, not that...” you said, cutting him off, shaking your head.
“Then what is it, Y/N?” he asked.
“My brother, Schlatt... my brother,” you said, letting the words hang in the air.
He’d totally forgotten about how your brother knew who he was.
“Oh shit..” he said, eyes widening, matching yours.
“Yeah,” you said, grimacing a little.
“Well, we can work something out, we always do,” he replied, racking his brain, thinking about how they could approach that.
You decided to worry about that later. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy the moment.
...
You insisted on picking Schlatt up from the airport, even though he tried to fight you on it. He kept going on about how much money he had and how he could just rent a car, no problem. But you wouldn’t let up, and he caved, because you’re stubborn like that.
You waited near baggage claim, scanning the crowd for him. Sure, you’d seen his face a million times over the years, you both knew what the other looked like, but this? This felt different.
You were zoning out, watching the conveyor belt spin with random suitcases, when you felt a finger tap your shoulder. You turned around and had to crane your neck up to see your best friend looking down at you.
“Hi” he said casually like it wasnt your first time meeting
“Oh my god,” you said, crashing into him for a hug. He wrapped one arm around your waist, dropping his carry-on bag to the ground so he could pull you in with both arms.
“Hi,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest.
“Hi, Y/N,” he said, looking down at you and smiling. You felt his chest vibrate with his deep voice. You never wanted this to end.
You loosened your grip just enough to look up at him, still wrapped in his arms.
“This is insane,” you giggled, and he started laughing too.
“Yeah, I never thought this would actually happen. It was like you weren’t even real,” he said, laughing with you.
You both finally let go after a few minutes, but honestly, you could have stayed like that forever.
He bent down to grab his carry-on bag, and the two of you wandered closer to the baggage claim, eyes scanning for his suitcase.
“How long are you staying?” you asked, tearing your eyes away from the conveyor belt to look at him.
“Well,” He paused, “I didn't book a return flight.” He looked at you, your eyes wide. “So however long you want me to be here or if something comes up at home” he said
“Schlatt,” you said, shaking your head, “I always say you’re insane, but seriously—you’re insane.” You laughed, not even trying to hide how happy you were.
“Oh I know” he said finally spotting his bag, reaching for it
...
The drive to the hotel ended up with you in the passenger seat and him behind the wheel, after five minutes of bickering over who should drive. He insisted he wanted to give you a break, and you finally let him win this one.
“I feel bad you’re staying in a hotel, though,” you said, staring out the windshield. “If you don’t even have a return flight, I can’t imagine how much that place costs a night.” You felt a little guilty about him coming all this way just to spend a ton of money to see you.
“It’s fine, like I said, I make too much to know what to do with, so it’s honestly taking a load off me,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. You laughed a little at how coy he sounded.
“Well, I have an idea,” you said, glancing over at him.
“Okay?” he said, glancing at you.
“What if, after this weekend, when my family leaves, you stay at my place? I’ve got the guest room and everything,” you said, hoping he’d say yes. Hanging out with your best friend 24/7 sounded like a dream.
“Um. Yeah, actually, I’ll take you up on that,” he said, grinning.
“Yay,” you said quietly. He heard it and laughed.
“I love you so much,” he said, giggling.
“Love you too, you dipshit,” you said, grinning at him.
You’d both said it before, always in that best friend way. But honestly, you’d had a crush on him forever, and having him here with you, in person, just made you love him even more.
Little did you know, he felt the same way.
*.★.*♡ .* ★ *.*♡ .* ★
i started writing this and it got way to long so ill post the second part soon 😈
peter parker x reader (platonic!avengers x reader)
Desc: Peter decided it was finally time for you to meet his second family, the Avengers
Cw: fluff
wc:1.4k
*.★.*♡ .* ★ *.*♡ .* ★
You craned your neck to stare up at Avengers Tower, the glass and steel stretching so high it made your stomach do flips. This wasn’t just meeting Peter’s friends—this was the Avengers. The actual Avengers. The same people you used to pretend to be when you were younger were all inside the building, waiting for you. Your heart beat in your chest, nerves and excitement tangling together until you couldn’t tell which was which. Seriously, how was this your life right now?
You sat on the edge of the lobby bench, picking at your nails and trying to look chill, but your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. It felt exactly like waiting in line for the biggest rollercoaster at the fair, right before the part where your stomach drops out. Peter glanced over, catching your eye, and reached for your hand, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it probably looked more like you were about to throw up.
“Hey.” He put his hands over yours. “It's okay, babe, you don’t need to be nervous. They’re just normal people.”
“Normal people who have superpowers—and everyone knows—” you murmured, your voice trembling as nerves prickled down your spine.
Just then, Happy walked in through the glass lobby doors. He looked the same as always—serious, a bit tired, but still the most reliable person there. He glanced at you and Peter and nodded hello. His timing couldn’t have been better.
"Hey, Happy," Peter said, sounding casual, like this was just a normal day for him. Maybe it was. Still, you could tell he was a little nervous about how everyone would treat you, even if he tried not to show it.
“Hey, Peter. Is this the famous Y/N we’ve been hearing about? Everyone is really excited to meet her,” he said. It was hard to believe the Avengers even knew your name, let alone anything else about you.
“Yeah, this is her,” Peter said, putting his arm around your shoulder and giving you a reassuring squeeze.
“Hi,” you piped out, a little hesitantly.
Happy’s eyes glanced at your jittery hands, and you could tell he picked up on how nervous you were.
“It's nice to meet you. Come on, you two, let's head up there,” he replied, leading you two to the elevator.
Peter slipped his arm from your shoulders and laced his fingers with yours as you both trailed after Happy.
>>>
The elevator hummed as it climbed, the silence stretching out and making the tiny space feel even smaller. You shifted your weight, glancing at the glowing floor numbers, until Happy finally broke the quiet.
Happy put a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Don't be nervous, kid. If anything, they're probably more nervous than you. Peter has told them a lot about you, like how you two met and how good a kiss-"
“Hey, that's enough, Happy,” Peter said, trying to stop him from saying more.
You couldn’t help but giggle, the nerves melting away for a second as you pictured Peter actually talking about you to the Avengers. That was wild.
“Hey, I think it's cute, Pete,” you said, nudging his arm and leaning into him a little.
Happy glanced between you and Peter, and you caught a hint of a smile, like he was genuinely glad Peter had you around.
The elevator dinged, announcing you’d reached the Avengers’ floor. Your anxiety returned as you realized it was time.
...
The doors slid open and you immediately took in the place—everything looked expensive, spotless, and way too nice for anyone to actually live in. But, duh, it was the Avengers. Of course it was fancy.
You scanned the room, eyes landing on a massive couch where the Avengers were all sprawled out, talking and laughing. The second your footsteps hit the floor, every head turned your way, and you immediately felt like you were on stage.
“Oh my fuck,” you blurted, way louder than you meant to. Someone snorted, and you realized it was Tony Stark himself, already getting up from the couch and heading straight for you and Peter.
“You must be Y/N,” he said, extending his hand to you.
“Y-yes, Mr. Tony Stark,” you said, reaching out to shake his hand.
Tony’s handshake was warm and solid, and for a second, it actually made you feel a little less like you were about to pass out. “Relax, kid. We don’t bite—well, except for Thor if you take the last Pop-Tart,” he joked, shooting Peter a look.
You let out a nervous laugh, glancing at Peter, who grinned back at you. The rest of the Avengers started getting up—Natasha shot you a tiny, encouraging smile, and Steve gave you a friendly nod.
“Nice to finally put a face to the name,” Natasha said, approaching you with a confidence that made you stand up a little straighter. “Peter’s talked about you a lot.”
You could feel your cheeks heating up. “All good things, I hope?”
She smirked. “Mostly. He forgot to mention you were so adorable when you’re nervous.”
Peter groaned and squeezed your hand. “You’re not helping, Nat.”
Before you could reply, Thor stepped forward, towering over everyone with his usual exuberance. “Ah! So this is the mighty Y/N! Welcome to our home. Do you enjoy Pop-Tarts as much as young Parker?”
Everyone’s laughter filled the room, and just like that, the tension disappeared. For the first time since you walked in, you actually felt like you could breathe. Maybe meeting the Avengers wasn’t going to be a total disaster.
>>>
After that, everything kind of blended together. You ended up sitting next to Peter on the couch, surrounded by actual superheroes, trying not to freak out. They talked about missions, movies, and argued over the best pizza in New York, always making sure to pull you into the conversation. Natasha wanted to know what music you liked, Steve asked about your classes, and Tony even asked for your opinion on his latest invention, though you were pretty sure he just wanted to show off.
Eventually, you slipped away to find the bathroom, needing a second to just breathe and collect yourself. The second you disappeared down the hallway, you could practically feel the Avengers all turning to Peter, probably ready to grill him.
"She's perfect, Parker," Tony said first, balancing a glass in his hand. "Much too good for you."
Natasha nodded in agreement. "She’s sweet. And brave, showing up here."
"You two are adorable together," Steve added, giving Peter a light nudge with his elbow.
Peter ducked his head, cheeks burning. "You guys, c'mon—"
"No, really," Thor boomed, clapping Peter on the back. "It warms my heart to see you so happy, young Parker. She is a delight."
Peter couldn’t help but break into a huge, goofy smile. "Thanks, guys. She's…she’s really special."
"Don’t mess it up," Tony warned playfully as the others chuckled.
You came back a minute later, and the whole room felt even warmer than before. You sat down next to Peter, who immediately squeezed your hand, and the conversation picked up again. This time, you really felt like you belonged
...
Before you knew it, the night was over. You looked at the clock, surprised at how fast everything had gone. All that anxiety from earlier was gone, replaced by this warm, fuzzy feeling that maybe you actually fit in here.
You got up to say goodbye, and suddenly you were surrounded. Natasha pulled you into a gentle hug, Steve wrapped you up in a friendly squeeze, and Thor actually picked you up in a bear hug that made you laugh out loud. Even Tony gave you a quick, real hug and a nod. “Take care of Parker,” he said, smirking.
“I will,” you promised, heart swelling as Peter blushed beside you.
You and Peter laced your fingers together and headed for the elevator, where Happy was already waiting. As the doors slid shut, you both waved at the team, their grins and waves making you feel like you really belonged here.
Once you and Peter were out of sight, Tony grinned and shook his head. “Yeah, she’s good,” he said, and the others all nodded, still looking at the elevator doors like they weren’t quite ready for you to leave.
...
Later that night, you were sprawled out on Peter’s chest, softly snoring while he scrolled through his phone, hoping sleep would catch up to him too. His phone buzzed, lighting up the room for a second. It was a text from Tony Stark saying
“Everyone really enjoyed meeting Y/N, please bring her back soon! Really happy for you, kid.”
Peter glanced down at you, all curled up and peaceful, and texted back, “Yeah, I will, I think she enjoyed it too.”
him lowkey coming back to streaming inspired this 😌
Schlatt x Reader
desc: schlatt mentions streaming again, feeling a bit nervous, you help him overcome it
cw: fluff, making out
*.★.*♡ .* ★ *.*♡ .* ★
You and Schlatt spent the day cuddled on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phones with your legs tangled. The TV softly played a forgotten show in the background.
Schlatt broke the silence. "I think I'm going to stream tonight," he said casually. You perked up; he hadn't streamed in almost a year. Though he’d mentioned it recently, it never went beyond talk until now.
He actually sounded serious this time. Not like all those other times when it was just talk and nothing ever happened. You could tell by the way his voice changed.
You sat up a little, reaching over to rest your hand on his thigh, feeling the warmth through the blanket. It was your way of grounding yourself, and maybe him too.
"Actually?"
"Yeah," Schlatt replied a bit hesitantly. "You know how I joined Quackity's new server, right?" He slowly sat up as well, putting his hand on yours, holding it in his.
"Mhm," you replied, looking him directly in his eyes.
"The server's actually been fun. I've been in the office a lot, so I thought..." Schlatt trailed off, staring at the TV like he forgot what he was saying. "Maybe I could stream it for a bit, just to see if I still got it."
You stared at him for a moment, amazed by how much you loved him.
"Your fans are literally gonna lose it," you said, giggling.
"Oh, I know. They've been asking me forever on Twitter," he said, laughing with you.
"When are you gonna do it?" you asked.
"Around 8? If that's okay. I’m not sure how long I'll stay on," Schlatt said, thinking aloud.
"Yeah, we don't have anything except dinner, so that's fine," you said, pretending to check your mental calendar even though you already knew you’d drop anything for him.
"I'm kinda nervous, though," he admitted, voice all soft. Schlatt hesitated, eyes flicking to your face and then away again. "It's just... I haven't streamed in so long. What if everyone moved on? What if I get on and it's just... disappointing? Like, what if I lost whatever it was people liked about me?" He squeezed your hand tighter, chewing his bottom lip. "I don't want to come back and mess it up. Or worse, have nobody care at all."
"What if they don't like it anymore?"
"Like what, J?" you said, nickname slipping out like it usually did
"Like... me," He stated, looking down at his lap.
"Hey," you said, lifting his chin to meet your eyes. "How could that be possible?" you teased.
He knew exactly what you were doing, but he let you anyway, not pulling away.
You kissed him, hard, hoping maybe you could just kiss the nerves out of him. If only it worked that way.
Your lips trailed down to his neck, and you heard him let out a little moan. Yeah, that was definitely helping. You smirked against his skin.
He shifted, pulling you down with him, hovering over you, still kissing you like he couldn't get enough. You weren't complaining.
You kissed him again, tongues tangled, not caring about anything else. The world could have ended, and you wouldn't have noticed.
You finally pulled away, both of you out of breath, foreheads pressed together. Schlatt flopped down next to you, arm around your shoulders.
"Feel better now?" you asked, still catching your breath, brushing a piece of hair out of his face. You hoped it worked because you were running out of ideas.
"Yeah, I always do," he said, looking at you like you hung the moon.
…
"What's up, Chat? Long time no see!" Schlatt said, scanning the messages on his monitor.
You put his stream up on the TV, wanting to see his first stream back, like you were his biggest fan or something. Which, honestly, you kind of were.
"Turn cam on?" he said, reading one of the chat messages that scrolled by
You giggled to yourself because you knew exactly why he wasn't turning the cam on. His neck was covered in love bites from earlier, and you knew he was trying to hide them. You'd definitely left your mark.
.
"Not tonight. That's not how we do these streams," he replied.
He wasn't lying, but it was definitely a good excuse. You'd have to tease him about it later.
You loved how private you two were. Only close friends and family knew, and that was enough.
You hoped it would stay that way forever. Honestly, you wouldn't trade it for anything.
*.★.*♡ .* ★ *.*♡ .* ★
IMM BACKKKK
pls let me know what you guys wanna see, idk if you guys want the rest of my eternity fic, it lowkey might be cancelled lmao
Hi!! My name is Aurora and i have always wanted to post my writing somewhere! Sooo here i am! I write for many different fandoms, some include aot, jjk, and the occasional stand alone! Most of my writing will most likely be drabbles;but i do have some short storys in the works! Feel free to critique me and send me messages, i need friends >_<!!!
omg i’d love to see reader pranking clark by calling him her “current boyfriend” or even just “my friend” 🤭
thank you for requesting ★°࿔ fem, 1k
“What are you doing?”
You glow at being asked so fondly. “I’m making a review thing for my friends,” you say, propping your phone up on the windowsill behind the sink.
“A review?”
Clark brought you home a box of cookies from the new trendy bakery near the office. It is an audacious sight, twelve cookies the size of your palm. The most beautiful is a dark chocolate and toffee one with flaky salt glistening in the light. Your stomach gives an eager gurgle, but the opportunity to pull the wool over Clark’s eyes is too good for you to waste.
Your boyfriend finishes drying his hands with a towel and lays it over his shoulder. “Like, you’re gonna rate them?”
“Is that okay?”
“Sure. Of course it is, angel, I got them for us, for you, you could throw them out the window if it made you happy.” He kisses your cheek.
“Thank you. Hey, will you be in it with me? We can compare our opinions.”
“I was hoping we were gonna share,” he says with a grin. “Deal me in, beautiful.”
You check your hair on the screen of your phone showfully before clicking the red button at the bottom, which starts the recording. “Hi guys. Uh, so,” —Clark’s hand slips against the small of your back, out of frame and such a sweet gesture— “so, we got a box of the showcase dozen from Sweetheart’s Bakery and Coffeehouse, and– so me and my friend Clark are going to try them and review them with each other.”
Clark’s hand flutters behind you. You expect him to pull away, but he’s meeting your eye unabashedly when you chance a glance his way. “Okay?” you ask. “Which one do you want first?”
His head stays facing you as his eyes travel over each of the cookies. “How about that dark chocolate and toffee one?” he asks, just a shade lower than his usual tone.
You reach into the box and break the cookie in half, warm and fresh enough to snap softly, its melted toffee oozing along golden crumb. You give Clark the bigger half.
“At the same time?” he asks.
You can’t read the look he’s giving you. Clearly, he hasn’t liked being called your ‘friend’, and why should he? The man brings you back twelve cookies that look like they're straight out of the TV and a bag of those beautiful red clementines from the market because he, directly quoted, thought you “deserved a good treat,” without giving a reason why. He kissed you softly and asked about your day. Offered to make dinner and started a load of laundry while you finished watching your show. All little kindnesses. You slept at his place these last four nights, as you do every week —this is not a friendship.
“One, two–” You take a bite.
It is perfect. Your pleasure isn’t feigned, smiling at the camera momentarily, then back to Clark to see how he feels. He doesn’t look half as pleased, resting what’s left of his cookie on the counter. You follow his lead, wiping crumbs from your lips as you chew. “Oh, woah,” you say. “That’s so good.”
“Yeah?” he asks. “What would you give it?”
His voice is like velvet.
You swallow the rest of your bite roughly, “Uh, without trying the rest of them, it’s honestly perfect. It’s a ten for sure.”
“I knew you’d love that one.” He turns to the phone, grinning, a mixture of smugness and agitation that has his voice getting louder with each word. “I picked them all out for her, I stood there for fifteen minutes choosing the ones I knew she’d want most to surprise her, because I’m a great friend!” he exclaims, taking your face into a paw of a hand. “You’re such a tease!”
You laugh into his palm, but Clark won’t let you hide, nudging your face back with his thumb as he leans in and kisses you roughly. It makes you laugh worse, feeling the annoyance in his mouth, and the carefulness of his hand turning your cheek so his nose can ride over yours.
“Should’ve known you were up to something when you started recording,” he mumbles, the taste of toffee on your tongue and his plush bottom lip as you give it a sorry kiss. “My heart fell into my stomach, but then I could hear your heart–”
You wrap your arm around his neck. “Shit, I gave myself away?”
“I wouldn’t have let you call me your friend either way. I’m not that good.”
“Clark, you are so good.”
His thumb rubs up your cheek, forcing a little soft pinch of skin. It makes you feel adored. “Not about being your friend, honey.”
“You’re my best friend,” you say.
Clark yanks you against his chest in one swift move and directs you to the phone. “Tell the camera you love me,” he says.
“Clark!”
He ignores your loud laughter. “You tell that camera how much you love being my girlfriend, or I’m taking these cookies and I’m throwing them out the window myself.”
“Baby!” You tip your head back against his chest. “Baby, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, okay? I didn’t realise you felt that way, things must be so serious for you–”
“Tell them you love me!” He laughs. “Tell them, or you’re going home.”
“Noooo…” You turn in his arms and hug his waist. “Come on, you’re so–”
“I’m not your friend,” he says.
You shake your head into his chest. “Never. We are so much more than friends, Clark. You’re the best boyfriend ever, okay? Thank you for the cookies, and the clementines, and for letting me make fun of you.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he grumbles, but he presses his mouth to your temple and you can feel his smile, hear his huff of laughter as he reaches over your shoulder. Cookie crumbs rain down from his hand. “This was even better than it looked,” he adds.
“You have great taste.”
Clark guides the cookie to your lips. “Sure do, beautiful.” Which makes you laugh, almost choking on toffee.
You opened your eyes, eye adjusting to the harsh lighting of the train, wait, a train? You thought to yourself. This was weird. You’d been in the hospital for weeks due to the decline of cancer, but now you were here… weird. You also took into account that you weren’t alone, some people in regular clothing and others in a hospital gown, like yourself. You heard the ding of the train car, signaling a stop coming up, noticing most everyone exiting, you followed, hoping this would be the place to get some answers.
You noticed some being confused, like you, and some looked disappointed, and things started to click in your brain.
You were Dead, that was the only logical explanation.
The last thing you remembered was lying down in the hospital room, speaking to a nurse about the options that were left, given the condition you were in
You finally made it up the escalator through the crowds of people to what looked to be a terminal to the train station.
Crowds of confused people, asking what was happening, and some sitting and appeared to be waiting for something or someone.
You decided to approach one of the people who seemed to be working in this purgatory terminal.
"Hi," you said, tapping one of them on the shoulder. They turned around to face you, "What's going on? I know I'm dead and everything, but-" They interrupted your rambling. "Your afterlife coordinator will be with you shortly." They broke in, turning away from you again, beginning to speak to someone who appeared to have also just arrived.
"Great," You sighed to yourself, going to find a seat. "This better not take too long…" sitting down in one of the seats in the terminal.
"That's me," You said, raising your hand up in some sort of a wave.
"Hi, I'm Olivia. I'll be your afterlife coordinator." She stated, looking down at her clipboard, which seemed to have information about… you?
"Nice to meet you," You said, hint of confusion in your tone.
"You are 73, from Wisconsin, a teacher, you lived a good life from what I can see," she said, "although I'm surprised you lived this long--you know, with the divorce and depression and all."
"Wow.. thanks, I really appreciate that.." You said you feel really vulnerable around this woman you just met.
"Of course, looking great by the way," She said, which made you confused.
"Huh- What do you-" You said, interrupted by a mirror being shoved in your face.
Damn, she was right, you DID look good. You looked no older than 23.
"Wha- How?" You said you're still shocked at your new appearance.
"When you get here, you age back to the happiest time in your life, and it appears for you," she said, pointing to her clipboard. "It was 1975, your first marriage," your coordinator replied, "I think we both know why it wasn't your second or third." Olivia winked. yn pursed her lips, already starting to feel annoyed.
"Hey, come on, walk with me." The blonde-haired woman urged her to walk arm in arm. "So when is the part where you explain whatever--" she referenced the crowded area filled with pamphlets of different places. Olivia's eyes lit up, and she nervously giggled." Oh! Sorry, I'm kinda new at this, but… basically, you can choose wherever you want to stay for the rest of your life," she thought for a moment, "well, not life?" Y/n sighed and looked around at the different booths the room had to offer.
She made eye contact with a young-looking French-looking woman. "Hey! wanna live the rest of your eternity in Paris in the 60's? Besides the sexism, of course." Yn politely declined as she turned back to her coordinator. "Eternity?" the woman asked. Olivia smiled and handed her a pamphlet from her clipboard. "Yup! Also, wherever you choose to stay, you can't leave." Y/N's eyes widened when she looked at the paper she handed. "I snagged this for ya when I read your file. It seems like you might like it. You never got to visit it, right?" Olivia continued. "N-no, Bobby and John never wanted to, said it wouldn't be fun, preferred the community pool instead," Y/N shared. Olivia huffed and put her olive colored hand on Y/N's. "
Well, it's a good thing they chose their eternity a long time ago." Y/N's eyes widened, and she furrowed her eyebrows. "Well, they certainly wasted no time, now did they…" The young woman joked. Olivia chuckled and put her hand on her mouth. "Well, now it's time to think about you, here, let me show you to your room for the next 7 days. "I have so many questions," Yn mumbled, still holding on to the paper brochure.
"Here you are! Your lovely abode for the next seven days. It's not much, but hey, at least you have your own room!" Olivia said, opening the door and letting you walk in before her.
"Thank you, Olivia," you said, feeling quite drained from all of the new information hitting your brain. The room looked like a high-end hotel room, " Wow, " you thought to yourself. Hey, when you're dead, at least you don't have to pay anything to stay here; you would have never afforded anything like this when you were alive.
"I'll let you get settled, I'll come by a bit later to make sure you're all good!" she said, making her way back towards the door.
"Hey.. Wait-" You said before she could fully exit.
"Hmm?" she said, waiting to hear what you had to say.
"Is there.. uh.. anything to do around here. Just so I'm not held up in here for seven days?" you said, hesitantly, in this new place.
"Yeah, there are quite a few restaurants and a bar, a lot of people have asked the same thing, but yeah, there are a few things to do! You could also look around the floor at the different eternitys to make sure you know what you want," Olivia said, holding on to the door, halfway in the hall.
"Oh.. Okay, thank you again, you've been really helpful through this so far," you said, thankful for someone who put some method to the madness that is this.
"Alright, I'll be back tomorrow to come and check in, bye!" she said, shutting the door.
"Bye," you said after she shut the door… "Okay.." You said to yourself
You decided to spend the rest of the day relaxing, trying to get used to your surroundings and get a grip on the fact that you were dead and alone.
What a way to spend eternity, right?
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGGG
also sorry no larry yet, we are getting the lore TRUST HE WILL BE NEXT
so i bash around the house and the poison stains my mouth
she comes, i let her
and we share a paradise
and i roll them once or twice
can't get much better
or
in which luke finds a new love after death.
part I. part II. (coming soon)
a/n: luke deserves someone to bake him cookies and hangout with him so that’s why im here… all the fun fluff stuff happens in part 2... but i am still very proud of this lol MY FIRST FIC ON HERE AND MY FIRST FIC OF 2026
spoilers for eternity!
PART ONE OF TWO
word count: 14,590
"What will I do now?"
That was the question you asked your Afterlife Coordinator when you had chosen your Eternity. The answer you got was simple.
"Whatever you want."
You were a child of 1952, and you died in 2025.
73. Lung cancer.
When you arrived at the junction, you were not the fine age of 73. You were 24. It had been so long since you saw yourself in that way; you had almost forgotten what your face looked like.
One moment you were old and frail and being watched over by a kind neighbor boy, and the next you were 24 on a train.
You had gathered pretty early that you had died. What other explanation was there?
Her AC's name was Lilah. She was sweet, although it freaked you out that you were put in the care of a 9-year-old girl. Lilah had told you that she was technically 108, which you still could not wrap your head around.
You decided on Mountain World.
A nice place to spend the rest of your life for all time. You liked the outdoors, although you weren't that sporty in life, being dead was a good time to learn how to do things, and get new hobbies.
If you were going to be dead for the rest of time, you might as well work on bettering yourself, right?
You had arrived at the beginning of winter. It was strange to you that they had seasons; the Mountain World president (which was apparently a thing) had told you that people liked the seasons changing. It helped them keep track of time and not get bored.
What was the point of keeping track of time if it was going to just go on forever and ever? Maybe it was just nice to know. That time can stomp forward, and one can be a part of it even in death.
You checked the map. Your cabin that you had been granted was somewhere near here… You heard music playing in the distance.
"When did you leave heaven? How could they let you go?
How's everything in Heaven? I'd like to know
Why did you trade Heaven for all these earthly things
Where did you hide your Halo?"
A song from your childhood. But this wasn't the Nancy Wilson version. It was a male singer. He didn't sound nearly as good.
You walked towards the music. Loud piano keys and trumpets filled the serene woods. It wasn't snowing, but the ground seemed to crunch when you walked like it had been freshly frozen over.
You saw a cabin in the distance. The door was wide open. You thought for a moment about not going inside… but you were already dead. What possible harm could looking inside do to you?
You walked towards the door and finally into the cabin. It was incredibly messy inside. The curtains were pulled to a close, blankets and various food items were all over the floor, including a half-eaten box of pizza. The lights were off, and the record player in the corner was the only item that seemed well taken care of.
You knocked on the door. It seems like the polite thing to do.
"Hello?" You called out.
Someone groaned out in response. Your eyes widened. Were they hurt? This was supposed to be a version of heaven, right? You shouldn't get hurt in heaven!
You walked inside carefully and looked around for the source of the groan.
It took you a second before you realized a man was lying on the floor in the center of the room. He blended in with all the trash and chaos scattered around, so you didn't even see him at first.
He was lying face down in what appeared to be his own vomit.
"Oh Jesus," you cried to yourself before rushing over to his side.
His eyes were closed, and he was muttering to himself.
"Hello? Are you alright? Should I call someone?" You said, holding his face.
His face was cold. How long had he been passed out?
His eyes opened slowly. His vision blurring. He blinked and looked at you, confused.
Blue. Bright blue eyes stared at you.
"Why are you in my cabin?" It was the first thing he said.
"I was just walking by, and I heard music, and I wanted to check if everything was okay," you answered.
He looked around his cabin in confusion.
"Fuck me," he muttered to himself.
You finally let go of his face.
He pushed you away. You fell back onto a discarded throw pillow.
He got up slowly. He stumbled slightly before standing straight. You looked up at him.
God, he was handsome… dark brown hair that had wisps of grey. A mustache that made him look like Clark Gable. A muscular frame and broad shoulders.
However, you couldn't ignore the fact that your attractiveness to him was dampened by the fact that his face had spatters of vomit and his hands were drenched in sweat.
"God, when did I get home?" He spoke to himself.
He had a deep voice. A voice that could read audiobooks. You missed audiobooks… You wonder for a moment if you would be able to listen to them here…
"Well, you're okay, so I'm… just gonna go…" You got up hastily and wiped your hands on your bell-bottoms.
"You're new," he said to you horsily.
You blinked.
"I'm Luke," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
He seemed incredibly uncomfortable with you seeing him in this state. You introduced yourself with a shy smile. He whispered your name to himself before asking.
"Where's your uh… cabin…" he rubbed the remaining vomit from his face.
"Well, I think I got lost. They gave me a map, but I think I got turned around and-"
"Let me see it," he said, holding out his hand.
He had nice hands… big…
You cleared your throat and took the map out of your pocket. You handed it to him. He examined it closely, looked at you, then back at the map. Then, he laughed.
"What?" You asked.
"You're on the wrong side of the lake," he said with a wide grin.
"Oh… I guess I can go back… I think I have a flashlight-"
"I'll row you across the lake; it'll be faster. Besides, you're right across from me anyway," he handed you back the map.
"Oh, you really don't have to do that. I'm sure you have better things to do," you said gently.
"Not really," he answered blandly.
The song ended, and the room filled with static from the record player.
"Just let me take a quick shower, okay? I'll be right back," he quickly walked towards the staircase and up the stairs.
You wanted to protest, you should have protested, but you didn't. He probably felt like he was obligated to help you since you checked up on him.
You looked around the cabin. Should you clean? That seemed rude, to go through a stranger's things like that. The place was so dirty, though, that you felt like you should at least open the curtains for some light. So, you did.
You could see across the lake from the window. There was a cabin with a large "WELCOME TO YOUR FOREVER HOME!" banner hanging across the patio.
How had you missed that? It was so obnoxiously big and bright.
You decided it was best just to stand outside and wait.
There was a bench overlooking the pond (and your house). You decided to sit there. Your book bag and luggage are placed next to you. You inhaled sharply. The air was so fresh. Your lungs were not battered and bruised. You could smell everything. You shut your eyes and listened to the serene world around you.
You weren't sure how long you sat there. Maybe you just got lost in listening to the world and your own thoughts. You were interrupted by Luke clearing his throat behind you. You turned to look at him.
He had certainly cleaned up. He no longer smelled of vomit and beer, that was for sure. He wore jeans and a dark green flannel as well as a heavy brown jacket. You frowned at his face.
"Did… did you shave?" You asked carefully.
He blinked and rubbed his mouth, looking away from you. "Uh… yeah."
You laughed. "Why?"
From your understanding, there wasn't a point in shaving or doing your hair or nails. Your body would regrow everything the next day.
"I… It's a routine I have." He answered somewhat coldly.
You nodded. "Well. I like your mustache."
You stood up and grabbed your two bags. Luke continued to stare at you, in an expression you could not read.
"What?" You asked, looking around.
"You like my mustache? You saw it for like not even ten minutes." He said, slightly stunned.
You shrugged, "yeah I mean I don't know. I think it makes you look sophisticated. Like Clark Gable in Gone With The Wind."
He blinked at you.
"I mean, it's your face, you can do whatever you want. I'm not judging you or anything. I'm not shaving my legs in the afterlife, that's all I'm saying."
He nodded.
"Let me get the canoe," he muttered, walking away from you.
Had you said something rude? It's not that he was ugly without the mustache or anything… it was hard to believe Luke had the capabilities of being ugly at all. Facial hair didn't change anything.
The canoe was barely a foot in the water. He had already pushed it out into the lake. You rolled up your jeans to keep them from getting wet.
You brought your bags to the canoe. Luke took them from you quickly and put them in the boat. He sat down on the far end and held onto the oars.
You stared at the small rowboat.
"What?" Luke asked you with a somewhat irritated expression.
Maybe the hangover was just starting to kick in.
"I've… never been in one before." You said gently.
His expression softened.
"Oh… okay… uh, here give me your hand, I'll help you in okay?"
You took Luke's hand and put one foot in the canoe. It felt like it was rocking back and forth.
Maybe it was the different sensation of the rocking of the lake from the ground, or maybe it was the fact that your shoes were slightly slippery from the mud that you stepped in that hadn't been frozen over yet… regardless of the reason, you lost your balance and fell forward.
Luke managed to catch you without tipping the canoe over. You let out a squeal. His hands landed on your hips.
Your faces were close together. You hadn't been this close to a man in almost 10 years.
The moment was short-lived as Luke gently pushed you back. He kept his hand on your arm as you sat down.
"I'm sorry," you said, clearing your throat.
He didn't reply to that and simply began to row the boat. You watched as his arms flexed with each movement. Should you ask for help? Something told you Luke wasn't the type of man who accepted help… especially not from women.
"So…" you began.
"I died in Korea," Luke replied bluntly.
You looked up at his face. He wasn't even looking at you when he said it. Just behind you as you moved further away from his cabin.
"What?" You asked.
He glanced at you, "I died in Korea."
"Okay…"
"Weren't you about to ask how I died?" He looked at you, puzzled.
"No." You scoffed, looking away from his perfectly sculptured face.
"Oh… sorry, that's usually one of the first things people ask…" he cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I was gonna ask how long you've been here. In Mountain World," you clarified.
"Oh uh five years I think. I kinda lost track of time," he said, contemplating.
You nodded, "I just got here."
"Yeah… I know," Luke laughed.
Right. You had already had this conversation…
"I died of um… lung cancer," you said sheepishly.
It seemed rude to ask people how they had died, but Luke clearly didn't care about the unspoken rule.
"I'm sorry," Luke said.
He seemed genuinely apologetic. You gave him a subtle smile.
"Oh, it's alright. I smoked cigarettes since I was 18; it's a miracle I didn't kick it earlier," you shrugged.
"What year did you die?" You asked him after a moment of silence.
He thought for a few minutes before answering.
"1952."
You laughed.
"What?"
"The year you died was the year I was born. Isn't that funny?" You giggled.
He had a contemplative look on his face. You stopped laughing. Maybe he thought you were poking fun.
Silence once again found itself between you two. You decided to look out onto the lake rather than at him.
"Are you married?" Luke asked you suddenly.
"I was. He died ten years before me, I think he's in the beach world or something."
"Why didn't you go with him?"
You swallowed. He was staring at you so intensely that it made you want to jump ship. You managed to be saved by the two of you arriving at your cabin.
"Whoa… It's so big!" You yelled.
Luke turned to look at it, "yeah I mean I think it's the same size as mine."
You jumped out of the canoe and rushed towards the house.
"This is all mine?!" You yelled at Luke, jumping up and down like a child on Christmas morning.
He took your bags out of the canoe.
"Uh, yeah. It's your ideal home, at least that's-"
"But it's all mine? Do I share it?" You questioned.
"No. It's yours," he answered with a furrow of his brow.
"Wow!" You laughed.
There was a wrap-around porch. You ran around it. You had always wanted a house with a wrap-around porch. You had never told anyone that. How did they know?
You hadn't run in so long. Your feet stomped hard on the wood of the porch floor.
Luke watched you with his hands in his pockets, seemingly amused at your reaction.
"This is amazing!" You called out to Luke.
You let out ragged breaths.
"Holy shit, I forgot how weird running is," you gasped out.
"Weird?" Luke brought your bags up the stairs.
"Yeah, I think I forgot how to do it, ya know? I used a walker in my last few years, and so I think I just… forgot how to run? Did you go through that?" You asked stretching your back.
"Well, I died when I was 30, so I think I just always retained the knowledge of running," he answered.
Both of you went inside.
It was like a cottage out of a fairytale. Funny enough, there was a television. It didn't look like one from your childhood, boxy and heavy; it looked like one of the newer models that your son-in-law had told you was "all the rage." The thing that caught your eye was a bookshelf as tall as the ceilin,g packed with books.
You walked towards it. You ran your fingers along the various spines.
"Were you a librarian or something?" Luke asked you.
He placed your bags on the floor.
"No, I was a nurse. But I loved reading so much… I never had enough time for it."
"Well… all you have is time now." Luke sighed.
You pulled out a copy of War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy.
"I had a copy of this for years, but I never got around to reading it," you looked back at Luke, who was in your kitchen drinking a glass of water.
"Oh, sure, make yourself at home," you laughed, tossing the book on your coffee table.
He chugged the rest of the water.
"Sorry, I haven't drunk anything all day," he coughed and hit his chest.
"There's food in your fridge by the way," Luke said, rinsing off the glass.
"Really?"
"Yeah, I think they give everyone a fridge of their favorite foods when they first arrive."
Luke said it was as if it were a regular occurrence. The whimsy of this place must have worn off on him.
You opened the fridge. The first thing that drew your eye was a bottle of wine. A particular bottle of wine. Pinot Grigio, 1950. You drank it for the first time in 1986 when your husband took you on a trip to France.
You took it out and looked at it carefully. The bottle looked the same, even down to the small rip on the wine's wrapper.
Tears swelled up in your eyes. Luke looked at you, slightly uncomfortable.
"Well… I should head back," he said to you.
You continued to stare at the wine bottle.
He made his way past you, lightly touching the small of your back. It sent an electric shock through your entire body.
You put the bottle down and followed him out the front door.
"Are you gonna be at that party tonight?" You asked him as he made his way down the porch steps.
"What party?" He turned to look at you.
"I think it's like a celebration for the first snowfall that's supposed to happen tonight. I'm going. I hope I'll see you there," you rocked back and forth on your heels.
"Oh well, I'm not really a party guy," Luke sighed.
You instantly deflated.
It would have been nice to have at least one person you know at the event. It's not that you were socially awkward; it was just that you wanted someone who knew their way around. Luke seemed like the golden candidate. He must have been here a while, and he was your neighbor! You told yourself not to be too disappointed.
"Yeah, sorry, but have fun." He gave you a polite nod.
"See ya around then, neighbor!" You waved him goodbye.
He got into the canoe and immediately started rowing. You watched him for a couple of moments before heading back inside.
As soon as you closed the door, you burst into tears.
You hadn't cried since arriving at that station. Lilah had told you that some people never cry when the realization of death hits them. It's just a quiet embrace that there is now a new stage. You wondered if all the people you knew who died cried. Maybe it was your overly emotional nature showing up again.
You sat on the plush couch that practically sank into the middle. Then you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
You must have cried so hard you slept because when you woke up, it was several hours later, and your face was damp.
You had rolled yourself into a little ball, a tick you had ever since you were a child. Every boyfriend you had (and eventually your husband) had made fun of you for it. You weren't sure why you did it. Your mother said it was you replicating yourself in her womb.
Your children didn't do this particular tick, however. It was singular to you.
You stretched and looked around your cabin. It really was beautiful. More beautiful and spacious than you could ever afford in life.
The party! You thought.
You were gonna be late to the celebration. You hadn't even unpacked your suitcases. You looked through everything and stopped when you saw a particular dress. A prairie dress, brown with small white flowers and lace details. You hadn't seen the dress in years… decades…
You took it out and ran your fingers over the lace trim. It must have been from the mid-70s. Your bohemian and hippie phase that your parents hated with a passion.
You put on the dress quickly and grabbed a pair of white heels that you could not remember having ever owned in your life. You wanted to do your hair and makeup, but decided just to leave it alone. It was the afterlife. Why were you worried about makeup?
You were always a punctual person in life. You always wanted to be at a place ten minutes early; it drove your husband and children crazy. Anxiety and dread always filled you when you would arrive at a place, and you were not the first one there.
You forced yourself to walk slowly. You were always rushing and taking things fast in life; perhaps in death, you should take things slow. Despite your nerves screaming at you to rush, you took each step slowly. The sun was just beginning to set. You followed the cobblestoned path, looking around at the vast landscape before you. You heard an owl in the distance. You wondered if it was an owl that had died, and this was his heaven as well. You had tried asking Lilah about the intricacies of animal death, but she told you, "Not to worry about it."
You heard music in the distance, although you could not place the song this time around. You made it up the stairs slowly. As soon as you reached the terrace, you were greeted by someone handing you hot chocolate. You took the mug to warm up your hands. You sipped your hot chocolate and looked around.
It was then you saw him.
Standing in the corner, with an almost somber look on his face, was Luke. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand. He gazed around the room. Finally, the two of you made eye contact. You waved a little too eagerly. He bit back a smile.
You made your way through the crowd and over to him. He must be the tallest person in this whole place…
"Hi neighbor," you greeted.
"Hi," he greeted you back.
"I thought you weren't a party guy?" You joked.
"Yeah, well… I realized I didn't have a lot to do tonight, so…" he looked at the ice in his whiskey.
"Well, I'm glad I know at least one person here," you said, touching his arm.
A blush went to his ears. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by someone joining you two.
"Flower crown?" A woman in a uniform gave you a polite smile.
"Um… why a flower crown?" You asked, looking at the flowers
"Tonight's celebration is for the Slavic goddess Morana, who is the goddess of winter, death, and rebirth. The purple Crocus on the crown symbolizes rebirth, while the white Snowdrops symbolize death and the coming winter," She explained it all in a teacher-like tone.
"That's morbid," Luke comments behind you, sipping what you assumed to be whiskey.
"Well, I'll take one, they're very beautiful." You said politely.
The woman placed the flower crown on your head. You thanked her, she gave Luke a hard look before leaving the two of you.
"Flower crowns aren't my thing," Luke explained to you.
You laughed, you took it off your head, and leaned up to put it on Luke. Despite his statement, he let you put it on him.
"Oh, now see, I think it looks lovely on you," you laughed, looking up at him.
"Yeah?"
You nodded, "I would know I made many a flower crown in my day."
"Attention, tonight's festivities are about to begin!" A woman clapped her hands on the stage.
Diane, the Mountain World president, looked physically older than you. She appeared to be in her early 50s. A thick British accent and a small frame. She had bright green eyes and a slim face. She dressed nicer than the other workers who were handing out drinks, food, and flower crowns. She seemed nice enough.
You wondered how long she had been here to be president.
"Hey, you wanna go for a walk?" Luke whispered to you as Diane began her speech.
"Will we get in trouble?" You whispered back.
He shook his head. You bit your bottom lip before nodding. You linked your arm through his, and you both slowly walked away from the crowd.
"She gives pretty much the same speech every year; you really aren't missing out on much," he murmured.
His breath felt warm against the cold of your neck.
"Do they do this at the start of every new season?" You asked him.
He nodded, "Believe me, after the eighth one, you'll be sick of it."
The two of you walked further and further away from the others, arms still linked together like an old married couple.
"You look nice, by the way," Luke comments, looking at your dress.
"Thank you! You look very nice as well."
He wasn't wearing a suit or a tux, but he still looked nice. A brown wool jacket, on top of what seemed to be a denim jacket, and a blue t-shirt.
"Can I ask you something?"
You both stopped to sit on a bench. You sat close, your knees touching. He was much warmer than you were.
"Sure."
You bit your bottom lip before looking at him. He was so handsome… You don't think you've ever met a more attractive man.
"Were you married?" You asked.
His calm features quickly changed. He looked away from you, his posture straightening. Your arms were still linked together. You touched his hand gently.
"I just asked cause, well, you asked me, so… I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude-"
"No, you're not rude… not at all… yeah, I was married and when I died in Korea… she remarried." He said each word painstakingly slow.
There was a moment of silence.
"I waited for her," he muttered.
"What?"
"I waited for her… for sixty-seven years. Then uh… well, it didn't work out." His voice was raw, and he sounded as if he might cry.
He continued, "I don't think I knew her, we got married young, ya know. Then I died… so when I saw her again, she was different than this person I had imagined in my head, maybe it wasn't love, or maybe it wasn't just as deep a love as I thought it would be," he let out a shaky breath.
You weren't sure what to say to him.
Well, that explained the time discrepancy. He had died in the 50s but had only been in Mountain World for 5 years. You had wanted to ask about it earlier on the canoe, but you decided against it.
"It was all just… a waste of time," he finished. He leaned back against the bench with a sigh.
"I don't think any form of loving someone can be a waste of time," you said after a few moments.
He looked at you, waiting for you to continue.
"I think love is just something that helps people grow. Even if the relationship doesn't work out, it doesn't mean it was a waste of time because you learn something. The love is an act that is innocent."
Just then, the snow started to fall. White, delicate crystals fell softly onto the ground. In the distance, you heard cheering and clapping. The music changed to a louder, more eccentric. You couldn't place the song; you wondered if they played this one every year as well. You laughed.
"They act like this isn't something that happens every few months," you laugh.
You turned your head to look at Luke. He was closer to you now than he was before; he was leaning his head down slightly to be closer to your face. Even sitting down, he was still taller than you. So obnoxious for a man to be tall even when sitting. A shiver went up your spine. A snowflake fell on your cheek, and he wiped it away. His fingers lingered on your cheek before pulling away.
"You cold?" He asked, still close to your face.
"Yeah," you answered.
You weren't that cold in truth, but you had very few winter clothes packed with you. When you were alive and in your late thirties, your husband got a job in Chicago. You had dealt with winter snowstorms before. The winter clothes you were forced to wear were not fashionable or cute; they were a necessity. Perhaps that's why those jackets and mittens never found their way into your closet here. They were not items you loved but rather items you needed.
You felt something wrap around you. Luke had taken off his brown leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders.
"I don't want you to be cold!" You objected, trying to shrug off his jacket.
"Stop, I have another one on. I was getting hot anyway." Luke waved you off.
It was quiet between you two for a couple of minutes. You glanced at him; he had a calm look on his face that made your heart beat faster. You wanted to sit in silence with him, but you heard loud yelling coming closer. You turned your head to see a man whooping and hollering towards you both. He was complexly naked, save for his snow boots.
"Oh my-"
Luke covered your eyes. His hand could practically cover your whole face.
"Matt, do you have to do this every year?" Luke groaned out to the naked man.
"Hey, look who came out of his depression cave!" Matt said back to Luke.
"I think I'm gonna go home now," you said to Luke, his hand still covering your eyes.
"Matt, go behind the tree so she doesn't see it," Luke instructed.
"Luke, I had three children and worked in an ER. I have seen penis's before," you crossed your arms.
"Yeah, but you shouldn't have to see his," Luke said gently.
"What's wrong with mine?! You're just mad cause you want the first dick she sees here to be yours!" Matt protested.
It was a good thing Luke had covered your eyes, 'cause his face and ears went bright pink with embarrassment. You frowned at the man's crude comment.
"Okay, I'm going home," you pushed Luke's hand from your face and began walking away from the two men.
"It's nice to meet you!" Matt called out to you.
You waved your hand back without turning around. Luke ran after you, catching up to you easily.
"He and some other people always streak during the first snowfall. It's stupid," he shook his head with a laugh.
"Have you done it?" You asked him.
"My mother raised me better," Luke answered, putting his hands in his pockets.
"Hm, well, your mother isn't here. If you want to strip, you definitely can; she will never know." You patted him on the shoulder.
"You're just trying to get my second jacket," Luke bit his lip and looked away from your smiling face.
"I'm quite warm in the one you gave me, actually," you wrapped the jacket around your frame tighter.
"You know you never answered my question from earlier today; why didn't you go to your husband's Eternity?"
You stopped walking and looked at him with an almost scowl. Why did he keep asking you that damn question?
"Why do you ask?" You try your best to be polite.
"I don't know, you were the one who was talking about how love isn't a waste, and everything. Did you not love your husband or something?"
Something about his tone of voice irritated you. Like he had a right to know everything about you and your life when you had met him covered in his own vomit.
"I'm not judging you," Luke said, reaching out to touch your arm.
"Well, it sounds like you are," you snapped back.
He blinked in surprise at your mood shift. You scoffed and began walking away from him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you close to his chest. You blinked in surprise.
"I know you were alive in the 1940s, but women don't like being grabbed like this," you looked up at him.
"Some do," Luke whispered.
"I don't." You gritted your teeth.
He let his hand travel from your arm to around your waist. Despite yourself, you couldn't bring yourself to slap his hand away.
"My wife, when we came here together, she left for her second husband." Luke breathed out.
"How is that possible? I thought we weren't allowed to leave our Eternity?" You asked.
"I helped her escape. I think the workers know about it, but they can't prove it." Luke said to you.
You could see his breath now. The temperature had seemingly dropped by 20 degrees in the last 10 minutes.
"You just met me… why are you telling me this?" You asked gently.
He stepped back from you, his hands in his pockets, and gave you a shrug.
"Because you're a good person," he said, his eyes starry, "I don't think you'll tell anyone."
As a nurse, people would confess things to you on their deathbeds. Horrible things.
"I cheated on my wife."
"I killed a man in '86 through a hit and run".
"My husband thinks our son is his, but it isn't."
When death was close, you wanted a clean conscience; you acted as a priest in most situations. Telling people it was okay and they were forgiven… even if they probably shouldn't be. So… you were used to keeping secrets. You would keep Luke's because he had entrusted it to you and only you.
"I'm really sorry, Luke," you choked out.
Luke's life seemed like a Greek Tragedy.
Dies young. Waits for his lover for 60 years. Changed her mind once she had already been with him. Sophocles was in some Eternity writing this exact scenario.
You reached out and held his hand, squeezed it tight. He caressed your cheek.
Oh God… You thought.
You weren't that naive about how men acted when they tried to make a move. It appeared that even men who were born in the 1920s played by the same handbook.
Next, he's gonna tell me I'm beautiful.
"You're really beautiful, ya know," he purred, his breath fanning your cheeks.
"Jesus," you could almost roll your eyes, but you wanted to be gentle.
You were likely the first woman—person who had shown him kindness without a hidden agenda.
"Luke…" You put your hands on his chest and turned your head away from him.
"What?" He asked, genuinely confused.
"I think we should be friends. I don't think this is… I don't think this is what you need right now," you said somewhat sternly.
He blinked. A thousand thoughts ran through his head, you were sure.
You prepared for him to yell at you, call you a tease or a bitch, but he simply rolled his shoulder back and stood tall.
"Okay," he said after a few moments of silence.
You smiled warmly at him.
"Can I walk you back to your cabin?" He asked somewhat awkwardly.
Christ was this his first time being rejected?
"Wouldn't you rather stay for the rest of the party?"
"Not really, I don't really care for fireworks."
You frowned, "Fireworks, they haven't lit any-"
Just as that moment, loud popping sounds screamed into the air and exploded. You jumped at the sudden noise. You looked up to see various fireworks painting the night sky. One was a snowman, another a snowflake.
Luke laughed at your reaction.
"I told you, you get used to all the parties after a while."
Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage. The two of you began to walk back to your cabins.
"Very impressive fireworks, though I must say," you commented.
"Yeah, it's all very impressive," Luke said back with a smile.
When you woke up the next morning, you panicked. You were not in your Illinois condo, the bed was too soft, and the wall did not have your family portraits. Then you remembered.
Right. Dead.
You stared up at the ceiling for a couple of moments. This was your new ceiling. For the rest of time.
You made your way out of bed slowly, like you did when you were alive. You stretched (you could stretch so easily now!) and yawned.
You made your way down the cabin stairs. You brewed a cup of coffee, poured it into one of your favorite mugs (you can’t believe you have all your mugs in the afterlife), and went outside.
The snow had left the yard and forest covered in a white blanket. The snow seemed to sparkle against the sun. You looked to see that the lake was completely frozen over. You sipped your coffee and watched a squirrel jump from tree to tree.
You could see Luke’s cabin perfectly from yours. The door to his cabin opened, and out came Luke in a black jacket and a wool hat. He sipped something from a can. He put the can down and began walking into the three feet of snow. He hadn’t noticed you watching him.
Getting on his hands and knees, Luke began shaping various balls of snow into a variety of shapes. He stepped back and looked down at what appeared to be a sculpture of a bunny rabbit. He frowned at it and groaned quite loudly. You saw his lips move, and he kicked the bunny until it was back into a blob of snow. He went back into remaking it.
It was so childlike the way he would be satisfied with his own small creations… cute and innocent the way he would smile when something came out the way he wanted.
You went back inside your cabin after watching him for what seemed to be an embarrassing amount of time. You leaned against your door and smiled to yourself. You ran upstairs to get dressed, looked in your closet, and really had to find a way to get some winter clothes. All you had that was appropriate for the weather was a multicolored striped turtleneck, dark brown boots, and dark wash flared jeans.
You went back downstairs and into your kitchen. A thought occurred to you, and you immediately preheated your oven.
Brownies. You hoped he liked chocolate…
You remembered your recipe perfectly. You and your grandchildren used to bake when they were younger, but they had grown out of it once they got cellphones.
When you finally finish, you let them cool for ten minutes before cutting them and putting them on a plate. You grabbed a jean jacket and closed the door behind you.
You were tempted to just walk across the frozen lake, but you decided to follow the path to Luke’s cabin.
He was still outside. It had been almost three hours, and he didn’t even look tired. His cheeks and ears were a shade of light pink, but other than that, he seemed to be in his own world, not even registering the cold. He was talking to himself, but you couldn’t register what the hell he was saying.
He was near the bench that sat in front of the lake. He was sculpting what appeared to be a woman sitting on the bench, staring out at the lake.
“That’s not how her hair is,” you heard him say as you walked closer.
“Hello!” You called with a smile.
That seemed to have startled him out of his sculpture-induced psychosis because his eyes widened and he stumbled back onto his ass. Your eyes widened, and you rushed over to him, holding your plate of brownies tightly.
“Are you alright? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you,” you gasped out.
“You did not frighten me, I’m a grown man,” Luke defended, still on the ground.
“Right.. of course…” You stifled a laugh.
He groaned and stood up, stretching his back.
“I brought you brownies,” you held out the plate to show him,
He looked down at the plate.
“Why?” He asked.
“I don’t know, I just thought it would be nice to make them for you.”
He took the plate from you and examined the brownies closely. You looked down at the statue on the bench.
The statue had her hands in her lap; she had no real facial features except for her hair, which seemed short.
“You gotta give her a friend,” you commented.
You looked back at Luke to see that he had already eaten three of the brownies, chocolate covering his lips as he stuffed them into his mouth. His cheeks were puffed out like a baby's. You covered your mouth so as not to burst out laughing.
“Thewy’re gwood,” he said, his mouth still full.
“Well, I’m glad you like them,” you smiled.
He finally swallowed the cement of chocolate and rubbed his mouth on his sleeve. He handed you back the plate of brownies. There were still some on the plate, something told you Luke could probably stuff all of them into his mouth in one go.
“What do you mean she needs a friend?” Luke asked you looking at his sculpture.
“Well, it would be nice if she were sitting with someone, don’t you think? So they can talk,” you shrugged.
He thought for a moment. He grabbed a chunk of snow, and he began sculpting a man for his snow woman. You watched in amazement.
“You’re really good,” you said, watching him form a hat for his snowman.
“Eh, I’ve just been doing it a lot, helps clear my head,” Luke comments.
“I could barely do a snowman, and you’ve done deer! That’s amazing,” you reassured.
He stepped back next to you. You both looked at the snow couple.
The man was sitting close to the woman, with her head now resting on his shoulder. The man’s eyes were closed, and he had a smile. The women’s eyes were open, and she smiled as well, wider than the men's. It was like they were having their own little conversation.
“I don’t know if I like it,” Luke said, his hand under his chin, examining the sculpture.
“It’s cute! They’re lovers in the snow,” you defended.
He glanced at you. He looked down at the plate of brownies.
“These are fucking incredible by the way,” he took another brownie off the plate.
“Thank you, it’s an old family recipe,” you beamed.
“Should have been a baker while you were alive,” Luke bites into the warm brownie, not caring about the chocolate chips spilling onto his hands.
“Yeah, well, I enjoyed being a nurse. I like taking care of people,” you looked back at the snow couple.
“You’re good at it,” Luke smiled softly at you.
You looked back at him. No one had ever actually told you that before. In your 73 years of being alive, no one had ever told you that you were good at anything. Not a good wife, a good nurse, a good mother… You came to the conclusion that you were painfully average.
“Really?” You asked like a child.
“Yeah, you are. I bet you were a good wife when you were with your husband,” he licked the chocolate off his fingers.
You swallowed.
“I don’t think I was… if I were a good wife, I would feel more sad about not being with him for all eternity…” You looked down at your plate of brownies.
“Hey, aren’t I supposed to be the one who’s sad about their marriage?” he pinched your cheek.
You laughed and pushed his hand away.
“You let him go down his own path… that’s a very admirable thing to do… if anything, he’s a bad husband for not waiting for you!” Luke scoffed.
“Oh no, he was fine. It was ten years we were apart…”
You stopped yourself. This was Luke, who waited 67 years for his wife. Your husband couldn’t even last a whole week waiting for you. Lilah had told you he picked his afterlife in just three days! Three!
The wind blew, and a shiver went up your spine.
“Let's go inside,” Luke said to you, gently, his hand on the small of your back.
You nodded.
He had cleaned his cabin since yesterday. You could actually see the floor now, which was nice. You put the brownies on the coffee table. Luke threw some logs of wood into the fireplace and lit a match. The fire immediately started. You held out your hands and let out a dreamy sigh. Luke gave you a soft smile before walking into the kitchen.
“You really gotta get some winter clothes,” Luke commented from the kitchen.
“I know,” you rubbed your hands together.
“Why don’t you just order them from the catalogues?” Luke asked.
You turned to look at him. He was pouring two glasses of whiskey.
“What catalogues?” You frowned.
He looked up at you. He finished pouring the two glasses. He came into the living room and put the two glasses on the coffee table next to the brownies. You watched as he opened a drawer and plopped a large book on the couch. You sat down on the couch and flipped the book open to the first page.
BUILD YOUR DREAM WARDROBE FOR ALL OF TIME!
“You just circle what you want, and it can get delivered in like two days,” Luke said, sitting next to you, drinking his whiskey.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, flipping through the book.
It was massive, spanning from the 1900s all the way to the 2020s.
“If you want something from earlier in time, it’s like a separate book that they give you. You just circle and tear out the pages, put them in the mailbox,” Luke explained.
“Groovy,” you smiled, flipping to the section titled 1970s.
“I don’t think people say that anymore,” Luke said as he sipped his whiskey.
“Yeah, that’s what my grandkids said, but I like it,” you shrugged.
Luke handed you a pen, and you graciously accepted it.
“I recognize some of the stuff in here… I wanted a Penny Lane coat so badly, but I could never afford the actual nice ones,” you showed Luke a picture of a model in a brown leather Penny Lane coat.
The coat had cream fur. You weren’t sure if it was real or fake fur, but you didn’t even care. You drew a big heart around it and tore out the page.
“I feel like a teenager,” you said bashfully.
Luke laughed.
He watched as you drew hearts around various items.
A bluish-grey jacket with fur on the sleeve cuffs and hood. A purple suede maxi dress with embroidered daisies on the end of the skirt. A denim jumpsuit with a heart cut out on the upper back. Gogo boots… so many gogo boots.
“Ya know this is all gonna have to fit in your closet,” Luke looked down at your pile of torn-out pages.
His head was leaning against his hand as he watched you.
“I can make room. A woman always needs a wide variety of shoes.”
“But you’re just picking the same pair of boots, but in different colors,” Luke grabs one of the pages and looks at it skeptically.
“They’re not the same! This one has laces, and this one doesn’t! This one has a higher heel than this one!” You moved closer to him to explain the intricate differences between each of the boots.
“Oh, I see, I see,” he said plainly.
“Oh, shush, it’s my eternity, and I wanna dress how I never got too in life,” you took the pages from him.
“You should order stuff too…” You look at his clothes skeptically.
“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” Luke asked, offended.
“Nothing. Many people find lumberjacks very attractive.” You shrugged and went back to the book.
“You take that back!” He took the book from you.
“No man should have six different plaid shirts, it's not necessary!”
“Says the woman who just circled like eight of the same boots!”
“They’re not the same!”
The two of you continued bickering until Luke eventually gave in and agreed to order new clothes. You moved closer to him and watched over his shoulder as he flipped the book back to 1940.
“No do 50’s at least!” You said hitting his shoulder.
Without much pushback, he flipped to the 1950s.
He would point to certain clothing items, looking to you on if he should get them or not. The two of you sat snuggled together as the fire burned, looking at sports coats.
“God, I forgot how ugly 1950s fashion was,” you scrunched up your face at the plaid jacket.
“Well, you were a kid through the ’50s, so that’s probably why,” Luke pointed to a green sweater with big black buttons.
You nodded, and he circled it.
“Don’t get anything in blue,” you said when he tried to circle an argyle blue sweater.
“Why?”
“Your eyes are blue, it clashes. You should wear warmer-toned colors,” you suggested.
He blinked his bright blue eyes at you.
“I like blue,” he said with a frown.
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, just do a darker shade of blue, then nothing too bright.”
“But you said I should wear warmer tones. Isn’t bright blue a warmer tone?”
“No, you should do earthly tones if you’re gonna do blue.”
“How do you know this?” Luke asked you.
“I don’t know… It’s color theory. Also, my youngest daughter went to fashion school, so she kinda just told me all the colors.” You shrugged.
“Was she a fashion designer?” Luke asked genuinely interested.
“Yeah… my other daughter is a teacher, and my son is a chef,” you explained to him.
“You must be very proud of them,” Luke looked back at the catalogue.
“Is it strange that I don’t like to think about them?” You asked sheepishly.
He looked back at you.
“What?”
“I don’t like thinking about them, it just… it makes me too sad… I dwell on how they are and what they're doing and how my grandchildren are, and it just… it makes me too sad. I can’t go to that memory theater thing, I think I would just… break down and sob.” You laughed, but Luke had a grave look on his face.
“I’m sorry for asking, I didn’t… I didn’t want you to think you can’t talk about it with me…” Luke whispered, rubbing a stray tear from your face.
When had you started crying?
“No, no, it’s fine… God, you must think I’m a horrible mother,” you rubbed your eyes.
“I don’t think that,” Luke said, touching your hand.
He was so warm. God, you told him literally last night that you two should just stay friends, and you knew in your heart that it was the right thing, but all you wanted right now was for him to lie on top of you and kiss you all over. Your entire body felt too hot… God the last time you had sex was during Obama’s first administration.
Suddenly, a knock on the door startled both of you.
You looked at Luke.
“Were you expecting anyone?”
Luke looked at you, “You’re like the only person I’ve had a conversation with in almost three years.”
“Okay, well… that’s concerning,” you noted.
Luke got up and moved towards the door. You trailed behind him, curious. He opened the door to reveal Diane, the Mountain World president, smiling with a manila folder clutched to her chest. You peeked behind Luke’s shoulder to look at the woman.
“Well, Hello Luke!” Diane said with a warm smile.
She glanced over at you, peeking over Luke’s shoulder.
“And our newest member, how lovely to see you,” Diane acknowledged
“What do you want?” Luke asked, irritated.
You elbowed his side.
“Hello, Madam President,” you greeted.
“Oh, that’s not necessary, just call me Diane dear,” She laughed and waved you off.
She didn’t acknowledge Luke’s comment.
“I was looking for you, but then you weren’t at home, so I thought I would try here,” Diane said with an easy smile.
“Why would you try here?” Luke asked.
Diane turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence.
“Well, Linda said she saw you two walk off during the party,” Diane explained.
Who the fuck was Linda? You thought.
“Well, anyway, may I steal you for a moment for a quick chat?” Diane turned back to you.
“Oh… Um, sure, okay,” you touched Luke’s arm gently to silently signal that you would be back.
You and Diane walked further from Luke’s cottage together. You could feel his eyes on you the whole way. You turned back for a moment and gave him a little wave. He nodded back at you.
“Are you liking it here so far? Do you like your cabin?” Diane asked you. She stopped walking to lean against a tree.
“Oh yes! It’s wonderful. Everyone is really nice, I am so grateful to be here!” You put your hands behind your back so the woman could not see you fidgeting.
“Well, good, I’m glad. This is your eternal salvation, and it’s important that you enjoy it,” Diane said, opening up the manila folder with her.
“You were a nurse for almost 45 years, that’s quite impressive. You helped a lot of people when you were alive,” Diane read from the folder.
You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you remained quiet.
“You took care of so many people. Your husband, when he got sick, thousands of patients, your children, your grandchildren…”
“Well, I like taking care of people,” You commented.
She glanced up at you, then back down at the folder.
“No one took care of you, though. You died while serving a neighbor boy some tea,” she flipped a page in the folder.
Jerome. A sweet boy, he would come by every week to help you around the house. He was a Boy Scout, but you liked to think he did enjoy talking with you.
“Well, yes… but he helped me quite a lot this past year-“
“I just don’t want you to spend all of eternity taking care of someone else. You did that enough in life. I believe it’s time to take care of you,” Diane closed the folder and held it to her chest.
You were quiet for a moment before speaking again, “By someone, do you mean Luke?”
She took a sharp exhale.
“We’re friends, I enjoy his company, I don’t… I don’t baby him…”
Perhaps you did… a little… You did bake him brownies without him asking. You helped him even at your first meeting when he was face down in his own vomit. But he helped you as well! He rowed you across the lake, he walked home with you last night… he helped you pick out clothes!
“Good, he is a grown man; he does not need you fussing over him,” Diane scolded lightly.
Maybe you liked fussing over Luke. That was just a personality. You were a fusser!
“Well I won’t take up any more of your time, have a wonderful rest of your day,” Diane squeezed your arm gently.
You know she was just trying to be nice. It was her job to make sure everyone in this afterlife was happy and taken care of. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, but it sure did feel like she was telling you what to do.
You walked back to Luke’s cabin slowly, unsure of what to even say to him about the meeting. Perhaps you should just keep it to yourself…
Luke was sitting on the snow-covered grass. He was building a small snowman, muttering something to himself. You watched him for a moment before getting closer.
He looked up at you.
“What did she want?” Luke asked.
You shrugged and sat down next to him in the snow.
“She was just checking in to make sure I was okay since I’m new and all,” you replied.
Technically not a lie.
He nodded and poked two sticks into the small snowman’s sides.
“What’s this little guy's name?” You asked
“They don’t have names,” Luke stated.
You frowned, “How mean of you! They all need names. Names are our first identities. Come on, a no-name choice is bad.”
“Okay… how about Frosty?” Luke suggested.
“No, that’s terrible,” you scowled.
“You just said no name was bad!” Luke laughed, throwing his arms up in the air, exasperated.
“Well, don’t be cliché about it… How about Francis? That’s a good name for him, he seems dapper,”
Luke sculpted what appeared to be a top hat and placed it on the snowman’s head.
“Oh, see, he looks so cute. Doesn’t he look like a Francis?” You asked Luke.
“I don’t know what a Francis looks like, so I’ll take your word for it,” Luke replied.
The rest of the afternoon was spent naming the various snow sculptures Luke had made. He wasn’t creative with his names, but he did try. When the sun was beginning to set, you bade him goodbye. Carrying the pages of clothes to your chest.
Diane was probably right. You shouldn’t spend all your time taking care of and spending time with Luke… but you liked it. Why should you have to change a core part of yourself just because you were dead? You enjoyed taking care of people; it gave you meaning and purpose. If it weren’t Luke, it would be someone else.
You were happy it was Luke, though. He needed it more than the others…
The next morning, your clothes had arrived. Almost twenty boxes worth of winter clothes were left on your front porch; surprisingly, they were not too heavy to bring into your home. You opened all the boxes as quickly as possible, giggling to yourself as the tissue paper the clothes were wrapped in flew through your living room.
You looked at the chocolate brown jacket you had been gushing over. Suede with a fur collar and fur cuffs that were the softest things you had ever touched. This was a coat that needed to be seen by the entire population of Mountain World. You put on a wool plaid skirt that also came with your shipment and a pair of black boots.
As you were about to leave the house, you caught your reflection in the mirror. It was still weird to see yourself so young. You poked at your supple cheek. Part of you wondered if you were just dreaming, maybe in some coma. Perhaps you had imagined Luke. Maybe he was a doctor; he was speaking to you, and your brain had taken his words and formed a new version of him.
It seemed plausible… You shook your head. You didn’t want to think like that. It was too depressing.
Maybe you should stop looking at yourself in the mirror. You read it was bad for people's self-esteem.
You grabbed your copy of War and Peace and left the cabin. You considered checking in on Luke but decided against it. However, it nagged at your brain the entire walk to the snow slopes. Your heart hammered into your chest as you walked up the balcony steps.
A few people were sitting at various tables. Talking over coffee and cigarettes and multiple stacks of pancakes. You sat by yourself at a table facing near the top of the mountain. You didn’t mind being by yourself; you were pretty used to it, even when you were alive. You were never the type of person who had a big friend group. You knew many people in your life, even traveling with fellow Bohemians around the West Coast when you were 17, but you didn’t think of them as friends, just people you smoked pot with. You were social, you could talk to anyone about anything, but often you felt people lost interest in you. You only had three real friends in your life, and one of them was a childhood pet, and the other was the person you were married to…
You pushed the thoughts out of your head and cracked open your book. You managed to get another thirty pages into War and Peace before you were interrupted.
“Hey, how’s the book?”
You looked up to see Luke’s comforting face. He was wearing a ski suit and a red-and-white beanie that looked handmade. He had a small smile on his face. He lifted his goggles so you could see his bright blue eyes, sparkling in the sun.
“Hi,” you greeted him.
For some reason, his presence seemed to relax you.
“Hi,” he greeted back.
“How’s the book?” He asked once more.
“Oh! It’s good so far I like Pierre I think he’s my favorite character,” You dog eared the page and shut the book.
He sat across from you, leaning his snowboard against the rail that overlooked the mountains.
“You snowboard?” You nodded at the snowboard.
“Yeah I mean I haven’t done it in a while but I thought I would try doing it again. Fresh snow and all.”
His cheeks were pink, but you weren’t sure if that was because he was embarrassed or because of the cold.
“Hi Luke,” a trio of women greeted him as they walked by the table.
They did not greet you. The blonde of the group waved at him, and Luke awkwardly saluted back.
“Do you know them?” You asked Luke.
“I mean— Not like well like I know them—but like okay not know I just um they… yeah I know them.” He cleared his throat and sank deeper into the chair.
You watched him squirm, avoiding your gaze. Luke was saved by a waiter coming over to the table.
“Would either of you like to order anything to drink or eat?”
“Oh, um…” You hadn’t even looked at the menus on the table.
You opened it quickly and were hit with various items in cursive writing. It always took you forever to order at restaurants, which irritated your husband greatly.
“She’ll get an espresso martini and an order of the French toast, extra fruit, and I’ll just get a water,” Luke ordered.
The waiter wrote the order down quickly and walked off. You looked at Luke.
“How did you know I like French toast?” You asked.
He shrugged, “You mentioned it yesterday, remember? When we talked about foods we were excited to eat again, now that calories and blood sugar aren’t a thing anymore.”
You thought back. Right… you did have that conversation… how did he remember that and you didn’t?
“I’ve never had an espresso martini before,” you said to him.
“You’ll like it. I was a bartender for like 60 years, I can tell what type of drink people order or will like,” He scratched at the wood of the table.
“What happens if I don’t like it?” You asked.
He thought for a moment, “I don’t know, guess I'll just die.”
“That’s not funny!” You pouted, hitting him on the arm.
He cracked a wide smile. He leaned on his palm on the table and gazed at you.
“So what’s your drink?” You asked, leaning close to him.
“I drink everything,” he comments.
“Well, okay, but you have a favorite! Let me guess… whiskey? Bourbon?”
“All bourbon is whiskey, but not all whiskey is bourbon,” Luke explained to you.
“Really? Hm okay… um…” You didn’t know that many drinks.
“Beer?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him.
“All men like beer, but not really, no,” Luke laughed at your expression.
“Fuck, I don’t know, just tell me.”
“Cognac,” Luke finally answered.
“I don’t know what that is,” you blinked.
“It’s French,” he replied.
“I’m sure.”
Your food and drinks came a moment later. The French toast was the prettiest you had ever seen, fluffy golden brown with a drizzle of maple syrup, with a side of the most red strawberries and the most dazzling blueberries. Your mouth started to water.
“My God,” you whispered.
“See, I wouldn’t steer you wrong!” Luke laughed, popping a blueberry into his mouth.
You took a sip of the espresso martini, and your eyes grew wide.
Luke smiled somewhat smugly. You almost wanted to say it was disgusting to prove him wrong, but you would be betraying yourself. You downed the whole thing in three gulps.
“Hey, hey, easy now, those things are strong,” Luke said, taking the already empty glass from you.
“I’m a big girl,” you commented back, already feeling the alcohol burn your empty stomach.
He looked at you warily before finishing off his water.
“I’m gonna go, I promised some people I’d meet them at the top of the mountain… don’t drink too much, you can get drunk here,” Luke cautioned.
You waved him off c,utting into your French toast. He bid you goodbye, taking his snowboard with him. You watched him leave. Just when he was put out of sight, you waved over your waiter.
“How many of these are you allowed to give me?” You asked him.
“As many as you would like,” the waiter smiled.
“Okay, I need you to bring me one every time my glass is empty, okay?” You waved the glass around.
He nodded and took the glass from you. He turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm.
“Wait, one more thing,”
“Yes?”
“Can I get a cheeseburger, please? With lots of onions?” You pouted.
The waiter laughed, “Yes, ma’am.”
Hours blurred together as did your vision. Your book was discarded, as were your shoes. You weren’t sure how much you had eaten, but it was more than you had ever eaten in your entire 73 years of being alive. Cheeseburger, a slice of cheesecake with raspberry drizzle, two orders of French toast, a fruit salad, Sauerbraten with a side of mashed potatoes and asparagus, a hot dog with ketchup, and 9 going on 10 espresso martinis. You were holding the waiter hostage in conversation.
“I knew an Allen when I was alive? You don’t look like him, though,” you slurred, holding his hand.
“I’ve been dead for 500 years, so it wasn’t me,” the waiter replied somewhat blandly.
“Were you married? I was married for a long time, he’s in the beach heaven or something I was gonna go, but I don’t think it would have been a good—“ you hiccuped.
“Ma’am, I have other tables-“
“My mother never liked him, but my father did, and I think that’s why I married him,” you held the waiter's hand close to your chest to prevent him from leaving.
“Hey kid… You alright?”
You and the waiter turned to look at Luke. He was slightly sunburnt on his nose and had a tan around his eyes where his goggles didn’t cover. Another man, a little shorter than him, stood next to him with a snowboard at his hip.
“Luke! Do you wanna finish this grilled cheese?” You asked to let go of the waiter's hand.
The waiter took this as an opportunity to bolt away from you.
“Steven, I’ll see you later.” Luke patted the other man on the shoulder.
Steven gave him a polite smile and waved goodbye. You waved back obnoxiously. Luke kneeled before you and examined your face.
“How much did you drink?” He asked.
You pulled on his left ear and giggled.
“Dumbo,” you sang to him.
He blinked.
“Oh my God, did you die before watching Dumbo?” You asked, cupping your hands around his ears.
His ears were cold. You frowned at this.
“I have seen Dumbo,” he replied.
“But I've been, done, seen about everything, when I see a elephant fly” you sang close to his face.
“Okay, wow, I am taking you home,” he muttered.
“I want one more martini,” you let go of his ears and looked for your martini glass.
“I think you had enough,” Luke shook his head.
“I've had ten, which sounds like a lot-“
“That’s a lot.”
“No, it’s not!” You cried out, poking him in the stomach.
Luke put your arm over his shoulder, he helped you stand, and caught you by your waist when you stumbled. Your legs gave out from under you. He managed to keep you standing somehow.
“Wow, you’re a strong guy,” you said, looking up at him.
“Thank you,” he laughed awkwardly.
“Wait! My bill! I have to pay!” You cried out, reaching into your pockets.
“It’s free, remember?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows at you.
“Right, I’m dead…” You whispered.
He grabbed your book and stuffed it into the deep pockets of his snowsuit. As he began walking with you, he noticed your feet dragging along.
“This isn’t gonna work,” he muttered.
He was carrying you like one of his fellow troops. You were not a wounded soldier, you were a drunk young (old) woman. Finally, he decided to lift you up and throw you over his shoulder. You let out a “wee” and threw your arms out like a bird.
“Are you mad at me?” You asked him after a few minutes of him carrying you home.
“No, of course not,” Luke answered, letting out a small huff of air.
“Don’t be mad at me,” you cried, running your hands up and down his back as a way of calming him down.
It sent shivers up his spine, but he didn’t say anything.
“I like it here,” you said, looking up at the bare trees.
Luke didn’t reply. He held on to you tightly as you squirmed in his arms.
“Stop moving, I don’t want to drop you,” he said gravely.
You muttered something and quit moving.
Finally, both of you reached your cabin.
“Home sweet home,” Luke said, opening the door.
However, with the way you were situated over his shoulder, you hit your head on the door frame.
“Ow!” You cried out.
“Fuck,” he muttered, putting you down and holding your face in his hands.
Your body fell forward. He brushed the hair out of your face and looked at you.
“Sorry, you okay?” He asked tenderly.
“My head hurts,” you pouted at him.
“From the alcohol or the doorframe?” Luke asked.
“Both,” you slapped his chest.
God, he had a nice chest…
“Come on, let me get you to bed,” Luke held your waist.
You gestured up the stairs to your bedroom.
“I don’t put out that easily, so don’t get any funny ideas, mister,” you poked his cheek.
Your legs felt like they were made of Jelly; they wobbled with each step.
“Well, you’re incredibly drunk, so that was not what was going through my head anyway,” Luke said, holding your waist tighter so you wouldn’t fall.
“If we were alive at the same time, you probably wouldn’t have looked my way. Men didn’t flirt with me a lot, I only had one boyfriend before my husband, ya know,” you explained drunkenly to him.
He was quiet, so you kept talking. He was learning that you were even more chatty when you were drunk.
“I had sex with a couple of guys though, ya know, with I was a hippie and free love and all that, but I think they just wanted someone to fuck. I don’t think they liked me all that much. I kinda just did it to feel someone on me.” Your eyes glazed over as you both finally made it to your room.
“I’m sure they liked you,” Luke said, helping you with your jacket.
“No… they didn’t, but I didn’t really like them either, so I guess it’s fine.”
Your fingers were intertwining with his as you both unbuttoned your jacket. Luke tried to ignore how soft your hands were against his.
When you finally got your jacket off, you let out a sigh of relief. You unzipped your skirt and threw it in the corner. Left in only your boots, underwear, and a white long-sleeved shirt, you walked slowly to your bed.
Luke looked away as you sat on the plush mattress with a slight huff. You pulled on your boot, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Do you need help?” Luke asked.
You nodded in embarrassment. He gave you a half smile before getting on his knees in front of you. He lifted your boot against his stomach and began to unzip it. You placed your hand on his head.
He stopped unzipping your boot and looked up at you. You gave him a tender smile, entirely innocent to how this looked. He felt the back of his neck begin to sweat.
“You’re perfect,” Luke whispered, looking down at your shoe.
“What?” You asked him.
“Nothing…” he finished, unzipping your shoe and quickly making work of your other one.
You removed your hand from the top of his head and pushed yourself back towards the headboard. Luke remained kneeling for a few moments before standing.
“Can you stay with me till I fall asleep?” You asked, pulling a blanket up to your neck.
“Sure,” he nodded, pulling a chair up next to your bed.
You lay down and looked at him, batting your eyelashes.
“I bet women would chase after you when you were alive… and dead,” you sighed.
A blush bloomed on his cheeks. “Oh, I guess.”
He looked away from you, clearly embarrassed.
“Don’t shave your mustache anymore,” you frowned, looking at his face.
He had shaved it, again, you just now noticed in your drunken state.
You reached out your hand and touched just above his upper lip. He froze. You pulled your hand away after a couple of seconds of stroking the bare skin.
“Okay, fine, I won’t shave it,” he swallowed.
“Yay,” you giggled.
“If…” he began and then stopped himself.
“If what?” You asked.
He might as well say it. There was a decent chance you weren’t even gonna remember this the next morning.
“If we were alive at the same time, I would have noticed you. I think I would have liked you very much,” Luke said, covering your hand with his.
You laughed and rolled your eyes. He frowned at your reaction.
“You wouldn’t have, but that’s okay. At least I met you now,” you whispered to him.
“Can I say something and you won’t judge me for it?” You asked him.
He nodded.
You wet your lips before speaking.
“I don’t think my husband was the love of my life,” you covered your face with both your hands.
“Why would I judge you for that?” Luke asked, slightly confused.
“Well, wasn’t Joan the love of your life?” You asked him back.
He swallowed. He had forgotten he had mentioned Joan’s name in passing to you.
“Well… yeah, I guess she was,” he thought.
“That’s so beautiful, you had this epic, tragic love story, and all I have… are just normal, small moments. When he died, I was sad, but it wasn’t even the saddest I had ever felt…” You blinked back tears and stared at the wall.
“What was the saddest?” Luke asked.
He took your hand in his and interlocked your fingers with his. A silent gesture that felt as if he was holding onto you for dear life so you could not drift away from him.
“It’s a little pathetic but… I had a dog named Lily as a kid. I loved her so much, she was this chocolate lab, ya know, she was so beautiful, she slept in my room every night and waited up for me when I came home from school. When I moved away from home, she came with me. I took her on my hippie van and… we just went everywhere together, and then I met my husband.
And ya know, he was allergic to dogs, and it was okay for a while, but when we moved in together, it became a real problem. He said it was him or the dog, and I chose him… I sent Lily to live with my parents. A couple of months later, she died, hit by a car. I remember I couldn’t even leave bed for two days I didn’t eat or drink all I did was sleep and cry over that dog. I think that dog was the first thing I ever loved and the first thing I ever lost.”
You wanted to pull your hand back from Luke’s, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hand tighter.
“I was a good wife, Luke. I really- I did so much for him… I don’t want you to think I was a bad wife,” you cried.
The tears couldn’t be stopped. The tears rolled down your cheeks and stained your pillow. Luke finally let go of your hand, and you covered your face once more, feeling disgusted. He hated you. He thought you were pathetic, a loser, a selfish bitch who missed some dog more than her husband. You were sickening. You didn’t belong in a beautiful afterlife; you belonged in the fire depths of some hell, where all the most evil people in the world go.
You felt the bed dip beside you. You removed your hands from your damp face and saw Luke lying down next to you. His clothes discarded, he was left in his boxers and a white undershirt. Before you could admire how strong his thighs were or how muscular his calves looked, or even really register that he was almost naked in your bedroom, he pulled you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. He rubbed his thumb over your shoulder. You couldn’t remember the last time someone held you so tightly.
No one has ever held you so tightly.
“I’m sorry,” you swallowed, trying to pull away from him.
He wouldn’t let you.
“Come on, don’t do that, don’t apologize to me, okay?” He spoke into your hair.
You nodded, but you still couldn’t stop crying. You inhaled his smell; you wanted to put his scent in memory.
“You’re a good person, ya know, I knew that the moment I met you,” Luke rubbed your back in small circles.
You didn’t say anything, not sure if you genuinely believed it.
“I don’t think you have it in you to be mean… your life would have been easier if you did, but you’re not…”
You looked up at him and sniffed.
“I don’t think you’re mean either,” you whispered.
He wiped a falling tear from your cheek, “I can be… but I wouldn’t be to you.”
“We haven’t known each other that long, you don’t know that.”
“I would never be mean to you… I couldn’t do it.”
He held your face in his hands like you were made of fine china. He didn’t want to break you.
He leaned forward and kissed your forehead.
Gentle. So, so gentle.
His lips lingered on your forehead.
“If we were alive at the same time, I would have married you in a second,” he swallowed hard, holding you even tighter to him.
You were now lying on top of him. You liked being on top of him like this, although part of you worried you might smother him by accident, but something told you that Luke would welcome that.
“At least we’re dead at the same time... well, kinda.” You smiled, almost hopeful.
He laughed at that. Not a full belly laugh, but an easy-going laugh that made his smile almost shine. You could stare at Luke’s smile for the rest of your time. Just the two of you in a room staring at one another.
You leaned forward, moving to kiss him; you yearned for your lips to connect. To taste him. However, in your drunken state, you missed and laid a kiss on his nose. Luke seemed not to catch on that this was a mistake because when you pulled away, he kissed your nose back.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to try to lay a kiss on him when your entire world was spinning.
You lay your head in the crook of his neck and shut your eyes. Luke murmured a song into the top of your head, but you could not recognize it. It managed to drift you off to sleep, and you welcomed it with open arms.
The next morning, you woke up alone with a major headache. Hangovers existed here… right… What a stupid thing to have still exist in heaven. You were tucked into bed with an array of pillows around you. You turned to look at your dresser to see a note, a glass of water, and a pill.
You grabbed the note and read it.
BE RIGHT BACK. DRINK THIS & TAKE THIS ITS ASPRIN. DONT LEAVE CABIN! - LUKE
You read it again and blinked in confusion. You realized he misspelled aspirin…. How did he even get aspirin?
You downed the water and swallowed the pill. You wondered for a moment if you could smoke weed here. You hadn’t smoked weed in almost 40 years…. You wondered if you should ask about it.
You felt bile burn your throat, and you ran to the toilet. Throwing up for a solid 29 seconds. No room for a breath, just vomit. You wiped your mouth and then looked at your throw-up, not even being able to tell what any of the specs of food even were.
You decided to brush your teeth and take a shower. Your headache was pounding less, but you still felt it. The warm water soothed an ache in your back. For a while, you just stayed under the shower until the entire bathroom filled with steam.
You grabbed an old Diana Ross shirt you got at a concert in the '80s and a fresh pair of underwear before going down the steps of your cabin. You grabbed an apple and a box of Lucky Charms. You eat the cereal with no mil,k choosing to just pour it into your mouth.
You lie on the couch watching an episode of Happy Days on your TV. Apparently, the TV played all your favorite television shows on repeat. Neat.
There was a knock on your door interrupting your lazy daze. You got up, not even bothering to put on pants, and you opened the door to see Luke in his snowsuit. He breathed heavily and had a wide smile on his face. His face was red once more, but you weren’t sure if it was from sunburn or just from the cold.
It was snowing again, small white flakes fell from the sky, covering the already blanket of snow covering the grass.
“Get dressed, I gotta show you something,” He huffed out.
You blinked, “What?”
“Just… just get dressed! Put on pants, come on, it’s really important!” He said, jumping up and down.
“Alright, Jesus, just… give me a second.” You waved him off.
You made your way upstairs and put on a pair of sweatpants that you had no idea you even had. You threw on one of your new jackets, a blue trench coat with black star buttons. The inside of the coat was lined with soft wool and fur. You put on some tennis shoes you knew to be from your older years; comfortable and reliable.
You slowly made your way down the stairs.
“Come on!”
Luke grabbed your hand and pulled you outside.
“Luke, slow down, you’re gonna pull my arm out of its socket,” you laughed at his frantic movements.
Finally, he stopped and turned around to you. He put his hands on your arms that were at your sides. He gave you a cheesy grin. You were in a part of the woods between the trail that led to his cabin.
“Okay, close your eyes,” he bit his bottom lip.
“What? Why?” You asked with a frown.
“Come on, please?” He squeezed your arms gently.
You sighed but followed his instructions, shutting your eyes.
He let go of your arms, and you could hear him walk away, his heavy foot steps crackling in the snow. There were moments of quiet; all you could hear was the wind and the sound of a hawk. You clutched your hands together to stop your nervousness.
“Okay! Open your eyes!” Luke called.
You opened them to see him a few feet away from you. In his arms… a chocolate lab. The lab was a decent size, Luke was holding it like it was a puppy but the dog had to have been at least five years old.
You blinked, your face conforming into several different expressions. Luke put the dog down and whistled. That sent the dog running towards you, tackling you to the ground. The air was getting knocked out of your lungs, the dog's wet tongue kissed your cheeks and parts of your chin. You pushed its face away before properly looking at it.
It took you a moment. It had been almost 50 years, but you recognized the small patch of darker hair in the center of her chest that formed into what looked like a flower. The mark being how she got her name
Lily.
“Lily?” You questioned.
The dark barked as if to answer your question. She spun around in a circle, excited, her drool dripping from her mouth.
“Lily!” You cried out, hugging the dog.
She barked once more and licked the outer shell of your ear.
“Oh, sweet girl, I missed you so much!” You kissed her face and scratched behind her ear.
Lily fell on her back to signal she wanted you to scratch her stomach. She always did like that.
“Hello, my girl, hello, hello, hello,” you giggled, scratching her stomach in a circle.
Luke walked closer to the two of you, his hands stuffed in his pockets. A tender smile on his warm features.
“How did… how did… how?” You couldn’t form a thought.
Lily lay her head on your lap, content just to be near you.
“Someone owed me a favor, but it took them forever to find her. Apparently, all dogs do go to heaven. I had her smell one of your t-shirts, and when she did, she went crazy. Barking, spinning around in a circle, and jumping up on me. She missed you a lot,” Luke scratched the top of Lily’s head.
Lily let out a breath through her nose, approving of Luke’s story.
“This is… I don’t… oh my God, Luke!” You cried, tackling him to the ground.
Lily barked at both of you and wagged her tail.
He was about to speak (no doubt about to say something cocky), but before he could, you kissed him. He was clearly surprised because his eyes were wide open. It took him a moment, but he finally shut his eyes and smiled into the kiss. His lips were just as soft as they had felt when he kissed your forehead last night. He rolled over so he was on top. Lily jumped on his back, and he groaned.
You laughed and pulled away, looking at the dog.
“Lily, sit!” You commanded,
The dog did as you said and sat patiently.
“Why… why did you do this for me?” You asked, looking up at Luke.
He looked down at you. He brought a hand up to rub your forehead with his thumb.
“Because you deserve it,” he breathed out.
“You deserve everything you want… and I want to give it all to you,” he swallowed nervously.
You hadn’t seen him this nervous before… You leaned up and kissed him softly.
“You’re really something, Luke,” you said to him.
“You are too,” he whispered and kissed you once more.
How sweet life could be to you… After not having a great love in life, you get one in death, the two of you intertwined, sewn together.
You would have each other forever. For all eternity.
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