#soft launch

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y/n.user

liked by iamcharliebushnell, leahsavajeffries and others

y/n.user: hope you guys have liked the first 4 episodes 🫶🏼

view all 2,465 comments...

tamaravaleriessmart: bae 😍 ♥︎ by author

user1: girl, who are YOU looking at like that

dior.n.goodjohn: oh i see 👀

percyseries: a great addition to our percy family! ♥︎ by author

user2: the last photo??! Who's got you grinning like that?

user3: a literal angel

iamcharliebushnell: really glad you hopped on board the show (and the Princess Andromeda) this season :) ♥︎ by author

y/n.user: @/iamcharliebushnell couldn't be happier co-captaining with you, char :))

user4: she has me wanting to join kronos 😭

user5: Guys, Charlie has the same jacket, no?

iamcharliebushnell

liked by y/n.user, walker.scobell and others

iamcharliebushnell: little bit of this, little bit of that

view all 2,793 comments...

user6: brb, omw to join kronos 🏃‍♀️

user19: smash

user9: who's foot is that?!!

aryansimhadri: @/user9 mine 👠 ♥︎ by author ↳ iamcharliebushnell: @/aryansimhadri my cinderella

user9: THE LAST PHOTO, he's actually bf material fr

y/n.user: i can't lie, Luke made some really good point last episode ♥︎ by author

iamcharliebushnell: @/y/n.user glad to know you agree with me, co-captain

user8: Wait, is he taken?

user7: HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND?

user11: didn't Y/N wear the same heels five posts ago??

user4: actually need him so bad, you don't understand

y/n.user

liked by iamcharliebushnell, dior.n.goodjohn and others

y/n.user: promo with friends

view all 2,625 comments...

user5: the hand??? WHO'S TOUCHING HER HAIR

user1: that dress 😩

tamaravaleriesmart: im in love 😍

y/n.user: @/tamaravaleriesmart girl, i'm still fawning over your outfit

user14: she has a man now, yall 💔

user12: i have no proof but i think it's charlie

user8: @/user12 I think they did it but I just can't prove it 😔

user13: JAW DROPPED

user17: run me over please 🙏

iamcharliebushnell: should have made some hand sign like daniel and dior :/ ♥︎ by author

y/n.user: @/iamcharliebushnell all hands on deck next time, Castellan. ↳ iamcharliebushnell: @/y/n.user aye, aye, captain 🫡 🛳️ ♥︎ by author

user48: they're doing THE lines in the comments, I cant

y/n.user’s story 1m

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Twitter/X:

celebupdates: New pjo cast member accidentally reposted an edit of a fellow cast mate, captioning: "if evil, why so hot?" Could Charlie Bushnell be the mysterious guy Y/N L/N has been soft launching all this time? Regardless, we gotta agree with @/y/n.user, bad guys do hit different.

view all 3,152 comments...

user2: Damn Y/N is team kronos like her character 💀

user6: Im HOWLING

user14: Oh, she was quick to take it down, but the fans were QUICKER

user23: homegirl saw him and said "I can fix him, no really I can"

user18: She def has a private account and didn't realize she was on her public one

user20: are we really surprised? she reposted an edit of Tom Blyth as Coriolanus Snow on tiktok like a year back. IT'S A PATTERN

user1: they're def dating

user3: Girlll, he's with kronos. Stand up, he's bad 😔

iamcharliebushnell's story 5m

y/n.user

liked by iamcharliebushnell, aryansimhadri and others

y/n.user: they said i did something bad...#teamkronos

view all 4,671 comments...

user9: the caption, the shirt, im actually crying

user20: she, in fact, actually did something bad

iamcharliebushnell: good thing I meet the main criteria you have ♥︎ by author

y/n.user: @/iamcharliebushnell lucky you ↳ iamcharliebushnell: @/y/n.user aye, aye, dearest captain

user4: can never deny the "into villains" allegations now

dior.n.goodjohn: absolutely in love with you two ♥︎ by author

tamaravaleriesmart: what a short lived soft launch 💀

y/n.user: @/tamaravaleriesmart listen...I made a tiny mistake, so we had to speed the plan up ↳ iamcharliebushnell: @/y/n.user "tiny" ↳ y/n.user: @/iamcharliebushnell hush

user9: when will it be my turn? 🥀

leahsavajeffries: FINALLY! congrats guys ♥︎ by author

aryansimhadri: All aboard the ship of #y/n+charlie

y/n.user: @/aryansimhadri oh no, don't get the shippers started ↳ iamcharliebushnell: @/y/n.user pretty sure they already started since the moment you accidentally reposted that edit of me ↳ y/n.user: @/iamcharliebushnell🧍‍♀️ ↳ y/n.user: @/iamcharliebushnell oh, you can have the couch tonight actually ↳ iamcharliebushnell: @/y/n.user wait IM JOKING

user5: THE SECOND PHOTO, IM DYING

somethingbad

liked by y/n.user, percyseries and others

somethingbad: co-captains on board and off board

view all 5,113 comments...

dior.n.goodjohn: im cackling at the name change ♥︎ by author

aryansimhadri: and here I thought my cinderella era would last longer

somethingbad: @/aryansimhadri rip, it was iconic while it lasted

daniel_diemer: lets go mann ♥︎ by author

user45: I KNEW IT

y/n.user: i didn't think you would actually do it 🧍‍♀️ ♥︎ by author

somethingbad: @/y/n.user anything for you, co-captain ↳ y/n.user: @/somethingbad change it back then 🫶 ↳ somethingbad: @/y/n.user nope

user11: THE USERNAME CHANGE, IM SCREAMING

walker.scobell: oh since when?

y/n.user: @/walker.scobell walker, we literally phoned you telling you that we're together. ♥︎ by author ↳ walker.scobell: @/y/n.user I thought like..."physically in one location" together ↳ user38: @/walker.scobell he's the perfect percy

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Disclaimer: All photos are from pinterest or the actors' instagrams. However, I did make the edit screenshot and the black and white hard launch photo (took quite a while to photoshop lol).

⭒ navigation ⭒ masterlist

⭒ luke castellan & charlie bushnell masterlist

It's Friday night, and the bass from the speakers inside Hawks House is already vibrating through your chest as you push through the front door. The air is thick with the smell of beer, cologne, and the particular musk of too many bodies crammed into one space. You've been here less than five minutes, still weaving your way through clusters of people in the entryway, when you feel it—that prickle of awareness that tells you someone's watching you.

You glance up, and there he is.

Beau's across the room, standing with a group of his friends and teammates near the archway to the kitchen. But his attention isn't on whatever story Tucker's animatedly telling. His eyes are locked on you, and the smile that spreads across his face when your gazes meet makes your stomach flip.

He doesn't even excuse himself. Just immediately breaks away from the group and starts making his way toward you, moving through the crowd with the easy athleticism of someone who's spent his whole life navigating around defenders. You haven't even made it to the kitchen yet when he reaches you.

"Can I get you a drink, M'lady?" Beau says, sliding up next to you with that devastating grin. His hand finds your waist like it belongs there, warm and possessive even through your shirt.

You look up at him, unable to stop the giggle that escapes. "M'lady?" you question, raising an eyebrow. "What are you, a knight in shining armor?"

"Mhmm." He hums, already steering you through the crowd toward the kitchen, his hand sliding to the small of your back. The touch sends a pleasant shiver up your spine. "You don't like it?"

"I didn't say that," you say, biting your lip as his fingers press slightly more firmly against your back, guiding you around a group of girls taking selfies. "It's cute. Very chivalrous."

"Good," he says, satisfaction clear in his voice. "Now what'll it be?"

You've barely crossed the threshold into the kitchen when he's already moving, releasing you only to grab a Corona from the cooler on the counter. He holds it up with a questioning look, and you nod, taking it from him.

"Wait, let me guess what you need," he says, and there's something playful in his tone now, like he's showing off. "I told Tuck to get limes… They should be around here somewhere…"

He steps around you, and you turn to watch him, leaning back against the counter. Your heart's doing something stupid in your chest—something fluttery and warm and dangerous. Three weeks. You've known this guy for three weeks, and he's already memorized your drink order.

"Ah ha!" He opens the fridge with a triumphant flourish, emerging with a lime in hand. "Lime for the pretty lady."

You cross your arms, fighting back a smile. "What if I didn't want a beer with lime?" you challenge, even though you both know you do. 

"Uh, well," he turns around, grabbing a knife from the drawer with the confidence of someone who's been in this kitchen a hundred times, "I know you won't drink one without."

He takes the beer bottle from your hand, and you watch—mesmerized—as he opens it with practiced ease. He cuts a wedge of lime, squeezes the juice into the bottle, rubs it along the rim, and then shoves the wedge down the neck before handing it back to you.

The whole thing takes maybe thirty seconds, but you're staring at the bottle like it's a marriage proposal.

Because it kind of feels like one, doesn't it? This casual demonstration that he's been paying attention. That he's noticed the little things. That he cares enough to remember.

"Or are you feeling like tequila and OJ tonight?" he asks when you don't immediately take the beer from his hand. There's a flicker of uncertainty in his expression now, like maybe he's misread you. "I can make you something else if—"

Your mind snaps out of whatever mini trance it was in, and you feel heat flood your cheeks. "No, no, the Corona is good," you say quickly, taking it from him. Your fingers brush his, and even that small contact makes your pulse jump. "Perfect, actually. Keep 'em coming." You add the last part jokingly, taking a sip to hide your flustered smile.

But Beau's face lights up, and before you can process what he's doing, he's reaching over you—close enough that you can smell his cologne, something woodsy and clean—and grabbing two more bottles from the cooler.

"Say less," he says with a smirk that should be illegal.

You watch in disbelief as he turns around and slides one bottle into each of his back pockets, the necks sticking out like the world's most ridiculous accessory.

"I was kidding, Beau," you chuckle, but you can't stop staring at him. At this absurdly sweet, gorgeous guy who's literally putting beers in his pockets for you. "You're going to look ridiculous walking around like that."

"I gotta keep a stock for my girl," he says with a wink, turning back to face you.

My girl.

The words hit you square in the chest, and suddenly the noise of the party fades into background static. Your heart skips a beat—no, several beats. Maybe your heart just stops functioning altogether, because how are you supposed to remain calm when he says things like that?

He said it so casually, too. Like it's a fact. Like you've already had the conversation about what you are to each other, even though you haven't. Not officially.

But standing here in this crowded kitchen, with Beau looking at you like you're the only person in the room, with two beers sticking out of his back pockets because he wants to make sure you're taken care of—you think maybe you don't need the official conversation.

Maybe this is enough.

Maybe this is everything.

You take another sip of your beer, watching as Beau grabs his own from the counter and twists off the cap. The kitchen is getting more crowded by the minute, bodies pressing in from all sides as people reach for drinks and shout conversations over the music.

"You wanna get some air?" Beau leans down, his breath warm against your ear so you can hear him over the noise.

You nod, grateful for the escape, and he takes your free hand in his, threading your fingers together as he guides you through the throng of people. You catch a few knowing looks from his friends as you pass—Dean smirking into his cup, Logan raising his eyebrows—but Beau doesn't seem to notice or care. He's focused on getting you outside.

The back door leads to a small patio that opens up to the backyard. It's quieter out here, the bass from inside reduced to a dull thump. String lights are draped between the trees, casting everything in a soft golden glow. A few people are scattered around, but Beau keeps walking, pulling you toward the far corner of the yard where an old wooden swing hangs from a massive oak tree.

"Better?" he asks, finally stopping and turning to face you.

"Much better." You smile up at him, suddenly aware of how close he's standing. Close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the way his hair falls just slightly across his forehead.

He gestures to the swing. "Wanna sit?"

You settle onto the weathered wood, and he slips the two beers from his pockets, setting them on the grass before he sits beside you, close enough that your thighs touch. The swing sways gently with the added weight. For a moment, neither of you speaks. 

"So," Beau starts, then stops. He takes a swig of his beer, and you notice his knee is bouncing slightly—a nervous habit you've picked up on over the past few weeks.

"So," you echo, bumping your shoulder against his.

He laughs, a soft exhale through his nose, and turns to look at you. "I'm not usually like this."

"Like what?"

"Nervous." He runs his free hand through his hair. "I don't get nervous around girls. But you..." He trails off, shaking his head with a smile that's equal parts amused and bewildered.

Your heart is hammering in your chest. "Me what?" You say stupidly.

"You make me nervous," he admits, his eyes finding yours. "In the best way possible. Like, I want to make sure I don't fuck this up."

You bite your lip, trying to contain the smile threatening to split your face in two. "You're not fucking anything up."

"Good. That's good." He shifts on the swing so he's facing you more fully. His hand finds your knee, thumb tracing absent circles that send sparks up your spine. "Because I really like you. Like, really like you. And I know it's only been a month, and maybe I'm moving too fast, but—"

"You're not," you interrupt, placing your hand over his. "Moving too fast, I mean. I feel it too."

His expression softens, relief washing over his features. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, feeling brave. "I've never felt like this before. Not this quickly. Not this... intensely."

Beau's thumb stops its movement, his hand turning to lace his fingers with yours. "I called you 'my girl' in there."

"I noticed." Your voice comes out quieter than you intended.

"Did you mind?"

You shake your head. "No. I liked it."

"Good." He squeezes your hand. "Because that's how I think of you. I know we haven't had the whole 'what are we' conversation, but I'm not seeing anyone else. I don't want to see anyone else. Just you."

The vulnerability in his voice makes your chest ache in the best way. This confident, charming guy who could probably have anyone he wanted is sitting here telling you that you're it for him.

"Just me," you repeat softly, testing the words.

"Just you," he confirms. He reaches up with his free hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger against your cheek, and you lean into the touch. "You're kind of perfect, you know that?"

You laugh, feeling heat rise to your face. "I'm not perfect."

"Perfect for me, then." His voice drops lower, more intimate. "You laugh at my stupid jokes. You text me back at 2 in the morning when I’m spiralling about my historical analysis paper. You don't think it's weird that I cry during Les Mis—"

"It would be weird if you didn't cry during Les Mis," you interject. 

He grins. "See? Perfect." His thumb brushes across your cheekbone. "And you're so fucking beautiful it actually hurts to look at you sometimes."

"Beau..." You don't know what to say, overwhelmed by the honesty pouring out of him.

"I'm serious." He leans closer, his forehead almost touching yours. "I know I'm probably supposed to play it cool or whatever, but I can't with you. I don't want to. You make me want to be all in."

"I'm all in too," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat, rapid and strong beneath your palm. "This scares me a little. How much I already feel for you."

"Me too," he admits. "But the good kind of scared, right?"

"The good kind," you agree.

He closes the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that's soft and sweet and full of promise. His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens it slightly. You sigh against his mouth, and he smiles into the kiss.

When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you slightly breathless.

"So…” He trails off. “How cheesy is it for me to ask if you’ll be my girlfriend? Too middle school or-”

“Yes.” You cut him off. “I mean… Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Thank god.” he breathes, pulling you into his arms. You curl into his chest, feeling his chin rest on top of your head as the swing rocks gently beneath you. "Allie's going to be so smug about this."

“Mmm, so worth it though.”

“One thousand percent worth it.” He smiles.

You sit like that for a while, wrapped up in each other under the string lights, the party continuing without you inside. And for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly right.

Cue the Heart

It’s been a couple of weeks since Beau asked you to be his girlfriend, and somehow he’s been acting even sweeter than before. Which you did not think was possible. 

The two of you have such busy schedules, but he's managed to make more than enough time for you. Coffee before your morning classes. Lunch almost every day. Coming over to your apartment immediately after practice, still smelling like grass and sweat, collapsing onto your couch as if he lives there.

Some might say it was a honeymoon phase, but you didn’t care. It was pretty perfect, and you wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible, so you both agreed to keep your new relationship on the downlow. So far, only your closest friends knew that the two of you were dating. 

The news would surely make its way around campus like wildfire eventually, but for now it was more private. You liked it that way. Just the two of you in your own little bubble that only a select few people knew about. Less questions that way. Less prodding. 

And when your little bubble inevitably popped, that’d be okay. You just were in no rush to do it yourselves. 

“I might poke someone’s eye out,” you say, holding the pool cue awkwardly. 

You, Beau, Allie, and Dean are at Malone’s, and the guys have decided to teach the two of you to play pool. They were originally playing with just the two of them while you guys waited for some other friends to show up, but you and Allie got roped into it somehow.

“Well, you’ll just have to be careful not to do that, beautiful.” Beau chuckles, placing a kiss on your temple as he cautiously reached for the cue in your hands. 

“Easier said than done.” You sigh, looking up at him. “Maybe you should just go back to playing each other.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Allie chimes in as Dean slides his hands to her waist and turns her body back toward the pool table.

“Worst idea I ever heard.” He says, lining her arms up for a shot and whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. 

“I’m obviously not good at knocking balls into holes.” You say, pouting up at Beau. 

“That’s why you have to practice. After tonight you’re gonna be so good, you’ll want to join a league.” He winks.

You both glance over at the table as the sound of balls clattering together rings in your ears for the millionth time tonight. “Oh! I actually hit one in!” Allie cheers, jumping up and down. 

Dean smirks as she turns to face him. “Right, but next time do it with one of our balls… That was stripes; we’re solids, babydoll.”

You and Beau start laughing hysterically, and Allie glares at the two of you. “Thanks, Al.” Beau flashes her a grin as he surveys the table, trying to plan his next move. 

He settles on a spot at the table opposite you and starts to line up his shot. You watch closely, studying his movements as he rests the cue between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer finger, leaning in close with the most focused look on his face. He starts a chain reaction after hitting the white ball, which then collides with a solid; the solid bounces off the side and into a stripe that rolls into a corner pocket. He sinks two more balls before missing on his last shot, but it was intentional. He got the ball close enough to where he wanted it that he was sure he could get you to knock it in on your turn. He stands up straight and smirks at Dean, “Your turn, my friend.” Beau says, walking around the table to your side. 

He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you close as Dean lines up his next shot. You lean into him naturally now, your body fitting against his like you've been doing this for years instead of weeks. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hip, and you have to bite back a smile at how casually intimate the gesture is.

"Okay, you’re up," Beau says after Dean misses his shot, his voice warm against your ear. "Come on, I'll help you."

"Beau, I'm hopeless," you protest, but he's already guiding you toward the table with gentle hands on your shoulders.

"You're not hopeless. You just need the right teacher." He positions you in front of the shot he lined up for you, a stripes ball sitting near a corner pocket. "Alright, see that one? The orange one?"

"The thirteen ball?"

"Look at you, knowing the numbers," he teases, and you elbow him lightly. "Okay, so you're gonna aim for that. But first—" He steps behind you, his chest pressing against your back as his hands find your hips. "Your stance is all wrong."

Your breath catches as he nudges your feet apart with his own, adjusting your position. "Wider," he murmurs. "You need a stable base."

"This feels ridiculous," you say, but your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Trust me." His hands slide from your hips to your arms, guiding them into position on the cue. "Now, lean forward a bit. Yeah, like that." One of his hands settles on your lower back, steadying you. "See how that feels more balanced?"

"Mhmm," is all you can manage, hyper-aware of every point where his body touches yours.

"Okay, now—" He reaches around you, his hand covering yours on the cue. "You want to make a bridge with your other hand. Like this." He guides your left hand to the table, forming your fingers into the proper shape. "The cue rests right here, between your thumb and knuckle. Just like I was doing."

You try to focus on his instructions rather than the way his breath tickles your neck, the way his cologne surrounds you, the way his voice drops lower when he's concentrating.

"Now, keep your eye on the cue ball, but visualize the path to the thirteen." His hand is still over yours on the cue, guiding it back and forth in smooth practice strokes. "Nice and easy. Don't overthink it. Just let it flow."

"Easy for you to say," you mutter, but you're smiling.

"You've got this, princess. I can feel it." He pulls back slightly, giving you space but keeping one hand on your lower back. "Whenever you're ready."

You take a breath, line up the shot the way he showed you, and strike. The cue ball rolls forward, connects with the thirteen, and—

"Oh my God!" you shriek as the orange ball drops into the corner pocket with a satisfying thunk. "I did it! Beau, I actually did it!"

You spin around, and he's already there, catching you as you throw your arms around his neck. He lifts you slightly off the ground, laughing. "I told you! That was perfect!"

"Did you see that?" you ask, looking over at Allie and Dean.

"We saw, we saw," Allie says, grinning. "Very impressive."

"Beginner's luck," Dean adds with a smirk, but he's nodding approvingly.

"That was not beginner's luck," Beau says firmly, setting you back down but keeping his arms around your waist. "That was skill. Pure skill."

"Skill that you taught me," you point out, beaming up at him.

"Well, yeah, but you're the one who executed it." He presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "I'm so proud of you right now."

Your heart does that fluttery thing it's been doing constantly around him lately. "It's just pool, Beau."

"It's not just pool. It's you trying something new and crushing it." He grins. "Plus, you look hot when you're focused."

"Oh my God," you laugh, burying your face in his chest.

The game continues, and while you don't sink another ball, you don't really care. Dean and Beau dominate as expected, trading shots and trash talk while you and Allie cheer from the sidelines, making increasingly ridiculous commentary that has all four of you laughing until your sides hurt.

By the time the final ball drops into the pocket—Beau's winning shot, naturally—you're grinning like an idiot.

"Best two out of three?" Dean suggests, already reaching for the rack.

But Beau shakes his head, his arm sliding around your shoulders. "Nah, man. I'm good. Think we're gonna head out."

He doesn't ask if you want to leave. He just assumes you'll want to go with him, and the certainty of it—the way he's already planning the rest of the night around you—makes your heart skip.

"Already?" Allie pouts, but she's grinning knowingly.

"Yeah," Beau says, and when you glance up at him, he's looking at you like you're the only person in the room. "Already."

You wave goodbye to your friends, Beau's hand finding yours as you weave through the crowded bar toward the exit. And as you step out into the cool night air, his fingers laced with yours, you can't help but think that this honeymoon phase—this perfect little bubble you're living in—might just last longer than either of you expected.

One Month

"Where are we going?" you ask for the third time as Beau drives down a winding road you don't recognize, one hand on the wheel and the other laced with yours.

"It's a surprise," he says, flashing you that grin that makes your stomach flip.

"You know I hate surprises."

"No, you don't. You just like to pretend you do." He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Trust me?"

You sigh dramatically, but you're smiling. "Fine. But if you're taking me somewhere to murder me—"

"Then I've done a really terrible job of planning, considering I told Tucker where we'd be."

The road opens up, and suddenly you're pulling into a small clearing overlooking the valley. The view is breathtaking—rolling hills stretching out beneath a sky that's just starting to hint at sunset, all golds and soft pinks bleeding into blue.

But it's what's in the clearing that makes your breath catch.

A blanket is spread out under a large oak tree, weighed down at the corners with small lanterns. There's a wicker basket, a portable speaker, and—you squint—are those string lights wrapped around the lower branches?

"Beau..." you breathe as he parks and cuts the engine.

"Happy one month, beautiful." His voice is soft, almost nervous. "I know it's technically tomorrow, but I couldn't wait."

You turn to look at him, and he's watching you with an expression that's equal parts hopeful and vulnerable. "You did all this?"

"Well, Tucker helped me carry stuff up here earlier, but yeah. The planning was all me." He rubs the back of his neck. "Is it too much? I wasn't sure if—"

You kiss him before he can finish the sentence, pouring every ounce of affection you feel into it. When you pull back, he's grinning.

"I'll take that as a yes?"

"It's perfect," you whisper. "You're perfect."

He helps you out of the car, his hand steady on your lower back as you walk toward the setup. As you get closer, you notice more details—the blanket is actually the soft throw from his room, the one you always steal when you're over. The basket is overflowing with your favorite things: those ridiculously expensive dark chocolate truffles you mentioned once in passing, fresh strawberries, the Trader Joe’s sparkling lemonade you're obsessed with, sandwiches from that deli you love downtown.

"Beau, how did you—" You pick up the lemonade bottle, shaking your head in disbelief. "I mentioned this once, and the closest Trader Joe’s is like over 40 minutes from campus."

"You mentioned it three times, actually." He starts unpacking the basket, looking pleased with himself. "Once when we were at the grocery store, once when you were complaining about the dining hall drinks, and once when you were tipsy and very passionate about beverage choices. And no Trader Joe’s is too far when there’s something there to make my girl happy."

You laugh, settling onto the blanket beside him. "You remember all that?"

"I remember everything about you." He says it so simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Like how you talk in your sleep sometimes, and you hate when chocolate is too sweet, and you do this thing where you scrunch your nose when you're thinking really hard about something."

Your chest feels tight in the best way. "I can't believe you did all this."

"It's just a picnic," he says, but his ears are turning pink.

"It's not just a picnic." You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. "It's the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for me."

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and something shifts in his expression. "Can I tell you something?"

"Always."

"I know we said we'd take things slow, keep it low-key, not make a big deal out of everything..." He pauses, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "But I'm not good at that. Not with you."

Your heart is hammering now. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm all in. I have been since that night at Drunk Shakespeare when you laughed at my terrible joke about Hamlet, and I thought, 'Oh, I'm completely screwed.'" He laughs softly, shaking his head. "I know it's only been a month, and maybe I'm supposed to play it cool or whatever, but I can't. Not when you're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. Not when being with you feels like the easiest thing I've ever done."

You're pretty sure you've forgotten how to breathe.

"I'm not saying this to freak you out," he continues quickly. "I just—I wanted you to know. That this isn't casual for me. That you're not casual for me."

"Beau," you manage, your voice thick with emotion. "You're not freaking me out."

"No?"

"No." You shift closer, until your knees are touching his. "Because I feel the exact same way. I have from the start."

The smile that breaks across his face is radiant. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You lean into his touch. "I'm all in too."

He kisses you then, soft and sweet and full of promise. When you finally break apart, the sun is sinking lower, painting everything in shades of amber and rose gold.

"Come here," he murmurs, shifting to lean back against the tree and pulling you with him. You settle between his legs, your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist.

He reaches over to tap his phone, and soft music starts playing from the speaker—that indie playlist you made for him last week, the one you didn't think he'd actually listen to.

"You kept it," you say, surprised.

"Of course I kept it. It's from you." He presses a kiss to your temple. "I listen to it every day."

You turn your head to look up at him. "How are you real?"

"I ask myself the same thing about you." His arms tighten around you. "Every single day."

You stay like that as the sun sets, wrapped up in each other, sharing strawberries and chocolate and quiet conversation. The string lights flicker on as the sky darkens, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.

And sitting there, in Beau's arms, watching the stars begin to appear one by one, you think that maybe this isn't a honeymoon phase at all.

Maybe this is just what it feels like when you find someone who sees you—really sees you—and chooses you anyway.

Maybe this is what it feels like to fall in love.

little note 💜

my friend @boredpretty sent me @jenniechuu’s instagram au earlier and it reminded me of those old wattpad instagram stories i used to LOVE when i was active on there 

i thought it would be really fun to make my own little version with black girl representation and my own ideas, so i hope y’all enjoy it 

@-goldengirlll

Liked by @-ParisJackson and 73,000 others

@-golderngirlll --- life lately✨

Comments

@-boredpretty

girl where have YOU been 😭

Liked by creator

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@-plan3tch1ld

THE PARIS PICTURE??? 😍

liked by creator

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@-janetjackson

Beautiful baby ❤️

liked by creator

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@-parisjackson

Face card never declines 🤍

liked by creator

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@-user3819

WAIT WHO HAND IS THAT 👀

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@=softgirl444

oh she got a mannnnnn 😭

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@-moonlightgirl

SOFT LAUNCH???

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@-prettygirlluvr

THAT WATCH LOOK EXPENSIVE

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@-user7282

THE MAN BETTER BE FINE

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@-jermajesty

🤍

liked by creator

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@-user394

WHY IS HE ONLY COMMENTING A HEART??? 😭

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@-user221

WAIT IS THAT JERMAJESTY???

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@-user876

OH MY GOD IT'S HIM ISN'T IT

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💬 Messages

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insta Story

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Insta Story

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@-jermajestyjackson

Liked by @-Jaafarjackson and 800,000 others

@-jermajestyjackson --- ion know what i did right but i'm grateful

Comments

@-goldengirlll

🤍

liked by creator

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@-parisjackson

ew.

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@-jafaarjackson

bro smiling hard as hell 😭

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@-janetjackson

Beautiful ❤️

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@-user194

HE LOOKS SO HAPPY 😭

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@-user827

THEY MATCH EACH OTHER SO WELL

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@-boredpretty

the caption 😭😭😭

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@-bigijackson

happy for u bro 🤍

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@-princejjackson

❤️

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@-user441

NOT PARIS SAYING EW 😭

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@-user299

THIS MAN IS IN LOVE

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@jermajestyfanpage

HE'S GLOWING 😭

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Had to give multiple shoutouts to my girl @boredpretty. Which Jackson do y'all wanna see next? All of them will be done eventually, but who goes first? Answer below.

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