#(yeah the last one was sarcastic... but only to some extent I DO CARE ABOUT HAZELNUTS AND I LOVE THEM !!!)

[paperbackribs]

The Gift (12 of 15)

previous: Chapter 11 Midnight Movie (NSFW) next: Chapter 13 It's Pretty (NSFW)

Last chapter, Steve succumbed to temptation after being under Eddie's heated gaze while watching Rocky Horror and then again later as he Sees what Eddie gets up to in bed. This chapter, Steve has some sobering realisations about the extent of his feelings.

Chapter 12 The Path Chosen

Eddie’s dodging him, Steve’s sure of it. He’s barely seen the other guy for over two weeks now except for picking up the kids from Hellfire and waving across the school parking lot when he drops Robin off in the morning. Their friendship, Steve thinks glumly, has been reduced to concrete and exhaust fumes because he couldn’t keep his hand off his dick.

“I fucked it up,” he confesses to Robin. She has her French homework spread out on his kitchen island. She likes the length of space and how high she can sit, she says about using it.

At the moment, Robin is carefully spreading mustard to match the exact square of her sandwich slice before adding the ham and cheese in its precise order. Steve has argued that there’s no order; top is bottom, and bottom is top, but Robin insists that she knows what it is, even if she can’t quite describe it.

“How’d you fuck what up,” she asks, inexplicably smoothing out the ham’s creases.

“Movie night. I had a... moment with Eddie. And I did something that I shouldn’t’ve.”

If he hadn't been such a horndog then maybe he wouldn't have weirded Eddie out and would still be able to see the other guy, wouldn't feel his absence like some terribly empty wound.

Because Steve has missed Eddie something fierce. Family Video has been one long dull exercise in earning minimum wage, he hasn't been able to elbow Eddie at a double entendre on movie night, nor been able to catch his laughing eyes when Steve asks whether the kids won their D&D game or when he refers to a gargoyle as the garage guy.

He's missed that little zip of Eddie's attention in a way that makes his nerves feel deadened and dull. Steve hasn't been able to tell Eddie about his day and listen to him reframe it into the most ridiculous story. Or watch Eddie shine with that inner light he has when describing the next riddle or monster or trap of his campaign or the absent look on his face as he hums the same tune over and over, trying to lock down the right notes.

All Steve wants is to look across the room and see the armour of his outfit, the charm of his performance, and Eddie's handsome face with its myriad of teasing expressions.

Steve caved to a moment of temptation and, in doing so, lost one of his best friends in a single night. Well done, he sarcastically congratulates himself on his unexpected overachievement.

Robin interrupts his self-flagellation, “Is this when you were practically humping the couch pillow?” She takes a big bite out of her sandwich, savage despite the care she’d put into its construction.

Steve’s mouth gapes open. “You saw that?” He exclaims.

Robin smirks, “Where’d you think that sneeze came from? I’m all for you two getting together, but I don’t want to actually see you fucking. I practically had to hose off the pheromones when I got home.”

“Oh my god,” he moans into his hands. “Eddie’s going to think I’m the creepiest creep to ever creep across Hawkins.” All that time trying to not act like he had a secret insight into Eddie's private world all gone down the shitter because he is a horny perv.

“I don’t know why you’re so bothered,” she shrugs. “You weren’t the only stink I was showering off that night.”

Steve peeks out between his fingers. “Yeah,” he asks, hope rising in him: Robin doesn't lie, not even to make him feel better.

She snorts before finishing off the last bite. “The guy practically caged you in before the movie started and then he eye fucked you the entire film. I got why you were having your way with that poor innocent pillow; I just didn’t want to be a spectator in the Horny Olympics you two had going.”

A bubbling feeling of cautious confidence rises in Steve’s chest: maybe he had all this wrong and Eddie wasn't avoiding him. No, he stops himself, Eddie is definitely avoiding him but maybe it's not for the reason he thinks. Like when he'd misunderstood the intention behind Eddie's questions early on, thinking that Eddie was wary of the power Steve held when he was actually asking about why Steve would risk his life for him.

Eddie shares with him a lot more than Steve had ever thought would be possible at the beginning of their friendship. He thinks that the connection has given him more of an insight into Eddie's life beyond literally seeing through his eye. It's helped Steve to ask questions he's not thought to ask, and, in turn, he's come to know Eddie's tells beyond the flamboyant performance he often uses as a shield.

That's been the problem, Steve decides, he's allowed Eddie to dodge him. Steve should have pinned him down and demanded to know what Eddie's been thinking at least a week back when he'd known for sure that he was avoiding him. If the other guy had felt even a glimmer of the attraction that Steve feels for Eddie, then maybe he has a chance at something beyond their platonic relationship. Something based on the solid foundation of their friendship with the possibility for so much more.

He chews at his cheek as he acknowledges the other, uneasy feeling alongside that ballooning of hope in his chest. If he wants honesty from Eddie, then he needs to be honest as well. He needs to tell Eddie about the connection and what Steve has been Seeing. A necessary conversation before he can even think about trying to persuade Eddie to try and flesh out this pull between them.

“Besides the eye thing I need to tell him how I feel," he tells Robin decisively. "I can't let him slip away because I didn't sack up and tell him that I want him in my life. As more than a friend," Steve clarifies.

“Yeah, dingus. That’s a given," she rolls her eyes but her tone is not unkind. "Now are you going to go get your man?”

Steve sticks his middle finger up at her over his shoulder as he rushes out to the bimmer. He’s pretty sure Eddie’s probably home on a Wednesday night and Robin has her own set of keys so she can lock up when she leaves. Or stay, he doesn’t care. He might just appreciate her sleeping over tonight if it all goes to shit.

The sliver of the new moon is rising in the darkening sky and it seems to Steve that it pulls him in the direction towards Forrest Hills. An encouraging glint like a sharp needle waiting for Steve to thread and weave an unmapped pattern.

Just as he had created a new path in saving Eddie, Steve experiences the blossoming conviction that his next actions will determine the unrolling tapestry of his future, that he can choose his next steps and, in doing so, challenge destiny. A path created by Steve's self-determination rather than some fixed map he needs to blindly follow.

The sudden understanding that what happens next is in some part a consequence of his actions and in other parts up to Eddie's subsequent reaction leaves his hands sweaty on the steering wheel as he pulls up in front of Eddie’s trailer. Noting with relief that Wayne’s red pick-up isn’t here but Eddie’s white van is. Pulled haphazardly to the side, Steve sees with fond exasperation.

How can Eddie be so loud and messy in some ways and so self-contained in others? The hope that had kept him buoyed through the drive dips again at the thought. Robin may have been just picking up on the loud Eddie, some hormone-driven horniness that naturally seeps in within any range of Tim Curry in fishnet stockings. And maybe what was going on inside Eddie has nothing to do with Steve, nothing to want to do with him if he takes the past couple of weeks to heart.

“Stevie, is that you?”

He whips his head up at Eddie’s voice, who is opening the trailer door even as he calls out Steve’s name.

He wiggles his fingers back in greeting. Eddie simply raises his eyebrows questioningly.

He just needs to push off the wall, Steve reminds himself. Otherwise, he and Eddie will continue to tread water and he’ll get nowhere. Or worse, he won’t have Eddie in any capacity as a friend or otherwise.

With a steadying breath, he gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him to walk up to Eddie, hands in the back of his jeans pockets.

“Hey,” he says simply, looking up at Eddie who’s above him on the doorstep. Hoping that he's not about to be turned away before he even gets the chance to make this better.

Eddie looks down at him pensively, before stepping back and holding open the screen door. Steve accepts the invitation and follows him in, clenching his jaw as he automatically glances up at the corner ceiling where brown plywood is barricaded against the apricot-painted wallboard.

It really wasn’t that long ago that they were falling in and out of that thing, terror thick in his throat, scared that he was going to lose Dustin or Robin or Nancy. Terrified that he didn’t have eyes on Max and the rest of the team to keep them safe but trying to trust in their bravery and ingenuity.

And then there was Eddie, who he’d only started to get to know. Who he’d already come to like quite a bit, Steve realises belatedly.

The impact of the poorly chosen road would have on Dustin had weighed heavily on Steve’s mind when he’d decided to do what he could to thread his own path for Eddie’s fate, but he had also been thinking of Eddie himself.

Eddie, who was great with the kids, keeping Dustin’s smile bright while reigning him in from stupid choices like trying to join them on Lover’s Lake. A guy courageous enough to reflect on and admit to feelings of jealousy and admiration in the midst of an eerie forest. A man who looked so frustrated with himself and scared, speaking of his actions as if he were a coward yet repeatedly diving into dangerous waters, metaphorically and literally.

The wonder on Eddie's face as he looked up at the Upside Down sparkles had left Steve breathless. The play of light above them a dull comparison to the shimmering delight in Eddie's wide chocolate eyes, squeezing at Steve's heart and making it impossible for him to look away.

Steve hadn’t been able to comprehend the idea of letting Eddie go, of never seeing his bright eyes and charming dimples and had decided he could easily sacrifice his body and spirit to ensure he’d see Eddie leaning in towards him once more, an irreverent comment on the tip of his tongue and an invitation in the corner of his eyes.

He had wanted Eddie long before the connection, Steve realises with a racing heart.

It wasn’t much more than that yet, just a glimmer of desire from a flirtation in the worst of all moments to be thinking about his love life. Something far more paler than what he feels now, but the cornerstone of it nonetheless. He had seen to the core of Eddie, his kindness and courage and soul and wanted to know him even more so.

Christ, he’s been such an idiot this entire time.

Steve runs a hand over his face, stunned by the depths of how clueless he’d allowed himself to be. When had he become such a coward?

He’s been like one of those stupid fucking frogs that continues to sit in the cooking pot as the water heats, boiled over before he knows it. Cooked and done and ready for serving. His feelings building and layering on top of each other until his mind and heart were willingly woven into a complex tapestry built for Eddie, and Eddie alone.

Why hadn’t he allowed himself to at least try to have more with him before this became a muddled mess?

Steve stands at the centre of Eddie's home, his racing heart beating wildly in his throat, sure that Eddie is not going to want to have anything to do with him once he understands just how deeply Steve’s been invading his privacy. The uncanny part of him continuing to force himself into Eddie’s private world and Eddie will be sure that he can never trust Steve again.

But it has to be done, no matter Eddie's final decision.

Resigned to getting this conversation over, Steve drops his hands and looks over at the other man.

Eddie’s shifting nervously in his jean shorts and socks. His hair stuck up at one end as if he’d been napping and he has on that No Remorse shirt again, but Steve isn’t distracted by the sensuality of Eddie this time. Rather, he’s wondering how he willingly looked past the depth of his feelings for him this entire time.

He hadn’t needed to see Eddie getting his rocks off to know that he is captivating, but he had needed it to shake loose whatever self-denial he had been determined to hold onto. To realise that his preoccupation with knowing about Eddie's thoughts and feelings and opinions or dreaming of ways to secure his attention were not because of a simple platonic regard. Rather, it was all a reflection of the deep, abiding well of a familiar and exquisite emotion.

“What a fucking idiot,” Steve mutters to himself.

“What?” Eddie frowns.

“Shit, no,” Steve hurridly holds out his palms. “Not you, me. Can we talk?”

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

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[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 189 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: mowing the lawn.

MARTIN: "It’s the final battle, right? We climb the tower, take out the bad guy, figure out how to change the world back, and back in time for tea." No Martin, after this episode there are still 11 left! (Martin seems so stressed.)

MARTIN: "Yeah. They did roll out the red carpet, didn’t they? Must be nice getting the star treatment." JON: "I’d hardly call flooding Oxford Street with blood, the 'star treatment'." Sooo, the "red" carpet was literally blood? (Also, reminds me of The Shining). Martin is so snippy in this one. Been a while since he last did that, like to this extent.

MARTIN: [Amused] "Seriously? Stage fright? The great Archivist, master of all he surveys can’t handle a bit of public attention?" And boyfriend of said master of all he surveys also seems pretty scared and on edge. It fits his character that he gets nervous and is irritated easily because of that. Still, shitty way to treat Jon.

JON: "You don’t need to be sarcastic, okay?" MARTIN: "You’re right, I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, I’m scared too." I'm happy it got to that though. Jon calling him out and Martin realizing, it's wrong and apologizing.

JON: "Yes. Except one of the contestants is also planning to try and murder the judge." MARTIN: "… Um. [Searchingly] Maybe it hasn’t realised?" It has not, Eye's too dumb for it, you're good to go!

Oh no, Martin's getting worked up again... That was an ugly, ugly fight. If it can even be called a fight, it was mostly just Martin being all angry and yelling around. And I'm kind of disappointed that Martin still reacts so annoyed whenever Jon has to make a statement. It's a physical need of Jon and reacting to physical needs like that is horrible. At least the two of them get some space now and Martin can go cool off somewhere.

"The light takes on a crimson tinge as he passes an office dried with gore, and turns away from a back room where three men in fine suits laugh among themselves as they weave their pile of nooses." That's Tim, right? The laughter we can hear in the background, that's his uncredited cameo and neither Alex nor Jon knew about it at the time.

"He takes his place, marvelling again at how comfortable the seat is, how well it seems to fit," Forget the Lonely, join the Eye! We have comfortable chairs!

I don't quite get this statement, what is it a metaphor for? What is that pit? What it it about that minister, who seems to care about people in a way (or at least recognizes their suffering), but is ashamed of being wealthy while others starve?

MARTIN: [Brightly] "All good?" JON: "Yes. Just, uh… Left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth." MARTIN: "Oh great! Fantastic!" Martin is so bad at this xD Why? He could keep it together during MAG 118 when confronting Elias while Melanie searched the office for evidence. He kept Peter on the hook for several months! And now he's, what, too giddy to try to act normal?

Hmm, when Georgie and Melanie pulled Jon into the tunnels there was the same sound effect we hear when Jon smites someone, even if only for a brief moment.

JON: "Likewise, I… oh… Ooo…" MELANIE: "Oh, I know that sound. He’s going pale, right? Five quid says he’s about to collapse again." JON: [Archly] "I am not going to collapse. What do you mean again?" MELANIE: "Oh come on. You do it all the time." Yeah, Jon's "hobbies", getting kidnapped and collapsing. Sounds fun!

JON: [Brokenly] "I do not – I’m just feeling a little bit woozy alright? I ca-can’t quite think straight. Like at, um… um, Martin, you remember?" GEORGIE: "Is this what you were talking about?" MARTIN: "Yeah, if something messes with his connection, he can get a little… vague." JON: "I don’t like being discussed like I’m not here." I mean... Jon tried to tell what happened to him at Salesa’s and couldn't, then asked Martin what it was like. Georgie asks Martin, if this is what he was talking about (It makes sense to ask Martin, cause it was him they have spoken to earlier. How would Jon know what Georgie means, he certainly can't Know it here.) and Martin explains what Jon just couldn't put into words. I wouldn't have seen this as "discussing me like I'm not here". But I understand, there are people out there, who are really bothered by this. Friends of mine are like that. He tries to tell something, doesn't quite know how to proceed, she chimes in and says just straight out what he wanted to say and he get's all angry for being interrupted and having the story told for him. I don't know, I wouldn't mind that, I'd see it as a "Oh good, I don't have to explain everything, others already get it."

MELANIE: "It’s fine, Georgie. You can use the “c” word." MARTIN: "E-Excuse me?" GEORGIE: "Fine. We’ve got, sort of a… cult." Yeah, same Martin. This being a British show I thought it would be the word with an N instead of the L xD

GEORGIE: "When the world started to change, it just didn’t hit me and Melanie. Not, not really." ... Not really!!!^^

MELANIE: "There was nowhere to go back to, so I told her about the tunnels. Turns out, not only were they still here, they actually do a decent job of hiding things. When you aren’t painting a huge target on our backs." Mrrrrrhhh, until know this could have been excused as the Slaughter's influence, but Melanie still want to pin everything on Jon!

GEORGIE: "How could we not? The entire city knows you were there." MELANIE: [Sarcastically] "Everyone is so excited to see the Ceaseless Watcher’s special little boy." [GIGGLES] Okay, the entire city knows, but how did they learn about it? Do... the things here in London speak with actual words and they overheard them talking? Bit unspectacular... I'd like to think that every single screen in London now live-broadcasts Jon, as long as he is in London on the surface.

Heh, Jon laughing at Martin getting owned by Melanie XD Serves him a bit right after this episode ^^''

@a-mag-a-day

[merakiaes]

Captain Jealous - William Lennox

Pairing: William Lennox x reader

Requested: By @neemonroe​

Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3 

Wordcount: 3806

Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased. 

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.

Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.

If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.

But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.

Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.

“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”

Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.

The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.

One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.

Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard. 

“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”

While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer. 

Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.

What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious. 

The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog. 

He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.

Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team. 

Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.

And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was. 

It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.

You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.

To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.

You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.

You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.

You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.

Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested. 

But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game. 

While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.

“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.

“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.

The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war. 

You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.

The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.

“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”

Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.

You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.

You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.

“What are you doing with the new kid?”

You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.

Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.

You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.

“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.

“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a bit of fun.”

“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.

Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.

“But do you like-like him?”

At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.

“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.

At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm. 

Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.

“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”  

“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.

Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.

“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”

“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.

“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”

“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“

“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”

“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”

“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”

During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.

Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.  

The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.

“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”

In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.

“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.

“And?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”

You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.

“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“

Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.

In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.

You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.

Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.

Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.

“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”

Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”

Getting straight to the point, okay.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”

Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.

But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”

To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.

“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“I’m asking politely.” He lied.

“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”

Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.

Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.

His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.

With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.

“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.

Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.

“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.

He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight. 

With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.

“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.

“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!

[purpleyellow]

It’s not enough

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“The remarkable world of Mark Lee’s mind” or, Mark rethinkgs his entire history with Bee.

a/n: I finished it!! Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛 this gif is peak devastation 

All Mark could think when Bee first joined the group was “Thank God for Lee Jeno”.

Noticing that while she didn’t know how to express herself in front of them, Jeno was the first to give her a sense of comfort. Mark, after getting nervous for not knowing how to be helpful, told himself that eventually, Bee would get close to him too. He had a year, after all, to become friends and grow a bond with her.

Except that a year doesn’t last that long and little girls don’t come with instructions.

He knows she cried on his last showcase with Dream. But Mark has a feeling she only did so because of the occasion. She was seeing the seven best friends she witnessed together being separated, and that’s a heartbreaking sight when you know how close they are together.

Two years later, Mark realizes that was his big mistake. It wasn’t on purpose but along the way, he isolated the girl from their original friend group, and maybe it’s what caused some sort of distance in between them.

The year following his departure was an eventful one, and the boy grew a lot, experienced a lot, and learned a lot. The best part of everything being that whenever he met with their little friend group, his spot was intact and everything was the same. Except for Bee. Mark would see how she had inevitably built her own place within the dreamies, and it had him feeling weirdly left out even though they were perfectly coexisting.

They went on being coworkers and labeling each other as friends despite the weird lack of bond, until, of course, the whole “crush” fiasco went down. Mark saw himself and the girl going from, no correlation besides being in the same friend group, to suddenly facing a crisis that revolved around her feelings and his lack of knowledge about how she works.

The image he had of her, was built on a shallow level based on how others perceived her. That’s his second mistake. Jeno, and some of his Hyungs, were almost protective over Bee. Renjun and Jaemin treated her like their personal teddy bear. Haechan, Chenle, and to some extent Jisung were not worth going over in his head, because he thought that if he joked around as they did, she would probably get offended.

So there Mark was, trying to work around, this seemingly fragile character, while finding out that she saw him as a friend more than he did to her. And that maybe all the stress he had gone through to make sure she was being “protected” was worthless and seemingly ignored. He was a bit selfish for wanting to do the right thing simply for others to notice him, but that’s how he knew things. That's how he had to build a career for himself, he needed to get recognition from others to do the things he had done. And maybe connecting everything to work was another mistake.

“What’cha thinking about?” Chenle throws his coat on top of Mark’s head after realizing the practice room wasn’t empty. Though the boy was so deep in thought he didn’t realize the idol had arrived until he announced himself.

“Just life” Mark groans while laying back on the ground, his phone left on the floor next to him. The younger boy walked to the side, taking a glance at the screen before smirking.

“And by life, do you mean someone special?” He teases and Mark's hands fly to the device, the notes app open on the words he had mindlessly typed. He knew Chenle didn’t have time to actually read everything, but the title gave away enough. “The little ballerina”

“I’m trying to see things through a different lens” The Canadian spoke looking sideways at him. Gesturing he continued “Yesterday, I tried talking to her back at the van, but to be honest I had no idea what to say. Apparently, there's no good way to approach it, but I kind of feel like there might be”

“Markie, Markie. Don’t overthink anything. What do we do when we have a schedule that we’re not particularly good at?” Chenle placed a hand behind his ear and waited for the boy to say.

“We go ahead and just do it”

“So do just that” The boy snapped, “Between you and me, Yun-hee doesn't know what she wants. At one point she's all certain about 'moving on' or whatever, yet then when you ask her for any details of what she's feeling, she completely ignores you”.

“You asked her about it?” Mark's head snaps up frowning and the boy nods. “What did she say? Does-”

“Did you not listen to what I just say? She brushed me off” Chenle rolls his eyes “But I think she still likes you if that's worth something. Maybe not the way she did back when Haechan dropped the bomb”.

“What do you mean? Like a friend?” He questions confused, decreasing the younger's patience.

“No, Mark. The same way you like her now”.

“Chenle, I already told her, and all of you, that I don't feel like that towards Bee” Mark’s tone gets more serious and the younger groans annoyed.

“You two are so slow, we literally have to put words in your mouth to get things going” Chenle speaks quicker trying to get his point across. “It's really obvious you care about Bee more than you did at the beginning of last year. And okay, let's say you don't have a little thing for her or whatever, but you do want to have some sort of relationship with her, don't you?”

“Yeah, being friends for once would be nice” Mark nods, sarcastically, and gets up from the floor. “I really just want this all to end”

Mark left the room shortly after and being honest with himself, he felt a little light-headed with everything Chenle just told him. Putting most things aside to revisit once he had a clearer mind, the boy decided to put into use the one good advice he could find in the middle of everything. When you have a particularly hard task, you just have to go ahead and do it.

So with that, his plan was built. And by plan, he means to have no prepared speech, and no questions to ask, instead figure out everything after he finally finds a way of talking to her, which has been harder than anticipated.

A couple of days later, while he went down to the sm cafe before it was time to be at the studio, Mark quite literally froze in place at the sight of a certain Stray Kids member standing near a wall.

Waving shyly at him and Renjun, Seungmin waited awkwardly to see if they would come near him.

"Bee shouldn't take much longer" Renjun caught Mark by surprise, as he approached the boy calmly "Her recording session is almost done, but we can show you the studio if you want to wait for her there"

"No, it's fine" Seungmin smiled, though a little intimidated by Mark's frown. "I'll just sit wherever if it takes too long"

"I'm sorry, you two are going out?" The laugh followed by Mark's question was a little nervous, considering he had only seen the boy a few times yet here he was waiting for Bee to be done so they could do... something?

"No, no. Bee's going to meet Moon, I'm just the intermediate" Seungmin tries to joke but Renjun is the only one laughing. Clearing his throat, he explains further "My group was nearby and we're meeting Ateez for dinner so Moon asked if I could come to pick her up"

"Yun-hee is staying over at her dorm" Renjun adds, glaring sideways at the Canadian. "A sleepover or whatever you want to call it" The three fall silent after he's done talking and Mark runs over an explanation as to why he's feeling so frustrated over this conversation.

He and Bee hadn’t properly spoken since the award show shooting. And while forced interactions were the bare minimum, the boy felt as if the distance they kept had triplicated its length. It made him feel odd to see her act normally with everyone, including a boy she hadn’t spoken to for a year. So why couldn’t they be normal as well?

"Well, I'm going ahead and get a coffee. She should be coming anytime, though being late is kind of expected at this point" The comment from Renjun makes Seungmin chuckle and both boys nod to each other. Turning to Mark, he frowns at his wondering expression "You coming?"

"I'm heading up actually, it's my turn on studio 3" He shakes his head and waves at them. The elevator doesn't seem to take much longer to arrive, which Mark thinks might be some weird doing of fate, considering as soon as he makes it to his floor, Bee is walking along the hallway. Or was, because she changes her path the moment she spots him

Acting purely on instinct might not be the smartest thing to do, the boy thinks to himself while chasing her through the building without any idea of what he wants to say once "catching" her. Maybe Kun hiding Bee in his studio and obviously lying to him was a good thing, or at least it gave him another day to think about where he wants to stand with her.

Ironically, a couple of days after, he's in fact standing in front of a door while thinking if he should or not enter and hopefully settle everything. Mark opens the door slowly, analyzing the small room with two chairs in which she's sitting on one.

“Can we talk now?” He waits for her positive to walk inside and Bee does so by simply nodding. Her eyes looked a little tired and uninterested, but the small tremor on her hands told him how present she really was. And just like the first time they met, her nervousness contaminated him, and they just sat inside the small room without looking at each other in silence.

"I, um, have been thinking about everything since that game night" Mark clears his throat and starts speaking towards the floor "And, not that you owe me anything, but I'd just like to know what happened"

Frowning, Bee quickly glances at him "What do you mean, what happened?"

"When did you start, kind of seeing me in that way. And how did it stop, I guess. It just feels like a lot happened that I'm not aware of, and it's making me look back and reconsider some stuff, I'll explain that later, just let me know what I missed"

Bee thought of how she would put things into words and twirled the ring on her finger, taking a deep breath she tried to make herself comfortable on the chair

"It started around when you came back from the SuperM tour. Or maybe before that, I'm not sure” She sighs and picks at her nails “It seemed like that boy I met was gone after you graduated, and you became this even cooler rapper, you became more confident in yourself, literally embodied SM's favorite child. I sort of became stunned, this feels really weird to say, but I couldn't really recognize you"

Mark slowly looks at Bee while she's talking and carefully listens, he feels a little more comfortable not to look away once she raises her head again. Once she stops, he nods turning his chair a little so they're more face to face.

"You feel out of it after you find out I'm still the awkward boy from before" His jokes make her shrug as opposed to the giggle he expected to hear.

"That happened, but also, you did turn me down" Bee bites her lip regretting the word choice "Not that I'm mad, or really hoped for anything, I simply didn't want to push anything or make things too weird. That's why going back to normal was such a huge thing, but it's been a really long time since then and we still don't know how to do that, I guess"

"Maybe it's because we didn't exactly have a normal, at least not the one we're trying to do right now" Mark catches her attention and she gestures for him to keep going "Thinking back to when we first met, we never got close just the two of us. The others were always around, and even then, I can't recall us sticking together or anything. That might be why you thought I was different"

"It makes sense" The girl mumbles tilting her head and frowning. If he was true, that would mean her crush had been based on this picture of him she drew on her head. And while part of it certainly was, Bee also knows that a little percentage came from his actual responsible yet boyish and kind personality she still appreciates to this day.

"I guess it does" Mark nods reading her face "We should probably find a way to work around that. Just get closer in general, I guess. Find out what our dynamic is like without blending in with the rest of the boys and ignoring each other" He speaks hopefully, but Bee fears it might not work again.

"But, what if this is it for us. We didn't naturally become friends, so maybe accountancies it's what we should stick with" She doesn't know if she meant it, or was scared of this whole 'finding out' deal and its consequences. From what she knew, Bee could easily slip back into her feelings for him and end up breaking her face again.

Yet Mark wasn't having it. He'd spent way too much time, especially lately, noticing how she was comfortable with the others, and the nice chemistry they had. He felt left out, not as in ignored, but Bee was sweet, and a little quirky which also made her funny, but still very caring, and he never denied she was pretty. He wanted to know what it’s like to be her friend like the others are. Though this moment might be the first time he questions if a friendship will be enough for him.

"Let's put an effort this time" He shakes his head dismissing her comment "We can stick around in the practice room a little longer now that our schedules mostly match. And you know, hang out together more, no running away or ignoring each other"

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Bee bounces up her leg and thinks a little bit.

"For what it's worth, we can try. We spent a good time in here and it didn't get awkward, so there’s hope" Mark giggles and she follows him "It'll make the teamwork better if you need a greater good to support your decisions"

"Okay" Bee nods making him shyly hold out a fistbump to her. Making up a quick and weird handshake, they laugh together lighting up the mood a little.

"Just a little request" The girl stops Mark as he's getting up "Let's not rush things, you know. Make it more natural than acting like we're forcefully acting as friends"

"Yeah, sure" Mark pats her head opening the door. And to everyone, especially the dreamies’, happiness, they're a little less awkward around each other.

[curiousconch]

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 2)

Part 2: Before I dive right into you

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of their pretend wedding in Las Vegas, Gabe begins to unravel his growing feelings for Alex. But as he attempts to bring his past to light, someone from Alex's previous life casts a shadow on the future.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 2.4k+ (sorry 🙈)

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, some swears

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

A little after 1 AM, Las Vegas

Gabe can't help but smirk at the look of mischief in Alex's eyes as they stood by a quiet spot in the middle of Las Vegas. With her in that glittery dress, he somehow can't bring himself to part from her yet.

He knew it wasn't only him who felt that tingling in his fingertips when he brushed her cheeks, her breath smelling strongly of martini. He was very aware that Alex felt the same when she stared back at him, standing at that cramped cheap chapel while an Elvis impersonator stood nearby. The moment she stepped away when he said that it's just all pretend made Gabe's heart ache with regret.

So here they were, standing awkwardly after he shot down her advances again.

But he was sure he didn't want the night to end here.

After calling for a car, he shoved his phone inside the pocket of his slacks and turned to Alex.

"I was serious when I said I wanted a celebratory drink," he glanced apologetically to his side where she stood. "Our hotel bar offers my favorite scotch."

Alex raised her head, smiling. "Knew you had it in you, Gabe."

A car ride and a couple of glasses of Lagavulin later, there they were, lounging on stools at their opulent hotel bar, warm lights and jazz music providing a backdrop on the casual atmosphere.

"And I could not believe the rat thing worked! Who would've known they kept a rat in there as a pet? Like really?" Alex raised her glass to her lips, as Gabe sat on the barstool beside her, cradling his own drink.

"Beginner's luck, I would believe," he chuckled in reply, leaning forward, tie loosened and his coat hanging at the back of his chair.

"I am so offended," Alex gasped as she shoved her hands flat on her chest in mock disbelief. "I'm not only the boring nerd when I was in high school, Gabe. I was that nerd who sang and dance at the drama club!"

Gabe shook his head, his lips pursing. "That makes so much damn sense, Alex." He took another swig of his third shot, fighting for dear life from laughing his heart out. Not wanting to give her that satisfaction, he threw a sarcastic dig at her remark. "That's so believable, seeing you could snatch an Oscar from Meryl Streep herself and the no one wouldn't even bat an eye."

"Ah, law was plan A, sir." she saluted, placing her empty glass on the bar counter. "Acting was a fallback in case it didn't pan out." she giggled.

Gabe grinned as he rolled up his sleeves, beckoning the bartender for another round. "You should have made it your plan A, seeing how you turned out," he teased, bringing up the fun bit they did to retrieve a copy of Lydia Rothswell's marriage certificate. The very same act that almost made Gabe kiss Alex in the middle of The Strip.

"Aww, Gabe, finally found a better lawyer than you? Feeling threatened yet?" Alex leaned in, snickering as their glasses were refilled. "Don't worry, I' ll settle for being a Junior Partner for now," she said as she reclined, before throwing in a playful wink.

"Well someone's head just became bigger," he gave her a smug look.

"Just trying to keep up with all the cockiness in the room," she smiled coyly, watching Gabe's stupefied expression. It was clear then that she scored a slam dunk at the championship of comebacks, laughing at his astonishment.

Gabe finally gave up, joining Alex in her laughter. As their joy receded, he let himself take in the sight of Alex without any inhibitions. What he was beginning to see was the extent of her wit, her ability to keep her cool, and the sharp humor that matched only his.

Under the warm light of the lounge, she brilliantly shone. He couldn't focus at what she was now saying as he danced at the appeal of them becoming more than colleagues. Perhaps he resisted his own feelings long enough that he was past the point of denial. Or simply because he was starting to get drunk.

Though before he can even begin to consider that, he was still sober enough to know that he first needed to tell her the truth.

The truth that sometime long ago, their paths have already crossed. And that he did something very horrible.

Call him cynical, but he wasn't kidding when he admitted he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. And that meant laying down all his cards on the table. Because for him, Alex was more than the occasional one-night stand. And he can't be certain of how long he could keep himself from his budding feelings, all stakes be damned.

What better time to be honest when there was enough alcohol in his system to prevent all rational thinking? It's now or never, he figured.

"Alex, I -"

"Alessandra? Alessandra Keating?" a deep voice came from behind him, interrupting Gabe. He cocked his head to get a clearer view, as a man with slicked back blonde hair approached from a private booth nearby.

Without hesitation, the tall stranger in the dark suit stepped forward, his striking features Gabe would have easily recognized anywhere. That face was almost in every blockbuster movie in the last five years.

"Julian? What are you doing here?" Alex asked, as abashed as he was. Gabe saw how she clammed up the very second she recognized the man.

"Oh my, it really is you!" the man stopped beside Alex's bar stool, welcoming himself to their company. The way he was looking up and down at her made Gabe's jaw clench so hard, his teeth gritted. But the man's next movement stunned him all the more. In front of him, the man embraced Alex, making Gabe suddenly want to combust. His tumbler could've shattered if he tightened his grip on it a little more.

"Uhm, Julian, hi," Gabe surveyed Alex as she writhed within the man's arms, waiting for any signal from her so he could do something, anything, to make this man go away. But she assured him with one look, shifting a little, making the man who wedged himself between them release her.

"It's been so long! When was the last time I saw you, like, 12, 13 years ago?" the man exclaimed, his annoying smile making Gabe want to slam his fist somewhere. And it wasn't on the bar counter.

Gabe heard Alex scoff, fighting hard to regain her composure. "Yeah, high school," Her icy demeanor took over, one that Gabe only saw in the courtroom. She brushed her dress as she tilted her head to Gabe's direction.

The man turned to Gabe, the surprise evident as he acknowledged Gabe's presence behind him. The two men sized each other up sending an undercurrent of tension between them. Before Gabe could even consider acting out of impulse, Alex cleared her throat to diffuse his temper.

"Julian, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is Julian, my -"

"Ex," Julian interjected, before turning his attention to the lawyer. Apparently, this guy had a habit, Gabe observed. "We were together senior year. Alessandra, my angel, we had the best time together, didn't we? We looked good together, at least after Alex thought to improve her image here. Sadly, we had to break up. Teenage romances, you know?"

The picture couldn't be any clearer; this was the person Alex was speaking about during their dinner back in New York. And hearing the way he talked, no wonder Julian got under her skin. He was a damned manipulative pretentious liar. Gabe could hear the dishonesty between the words, not an ounce of authenticity in sight while the blonde hotshot rambled on.

Alex wasn't showing any sympathy either, her brown eyes staring daggers at him, as he went on about his monologue, emphasizing on how she was his back then. She was clearly infuriated by his attempt to own her, as well as his lack of shame. As Gabe quietly considered her reaction, he deliberated on a strategy to put her out her misery. The moment an idea came to mind, he gave Alex a subtle look asking her to back his play.

Alex nodded, sitting a little straighter. Finding the instant shift in her, Gabe made his move.

"Sweetheart," he slowly raised his voice as he said the endearment, enjoying the contempt from the other guy when he was interrupted. "You never told me Julian Wintour was your ex."

Alex smiled smugly, appearing pleased with the nickname Gabe chose, a clear pun on the whole high school sweetheart trope. "Never crossed my mind, babe. It's such an unimportant detail in my past," she waved her hand dismissively.

"Ah, nonsense," he finished his drink and gestured for the bartender to clean up. "Mr. Wintour's history would have made a good conversation starter." Gabe straightened his vest and stood, collecting his coat. He sauntered towards Alex, circling around the now speechless Julian. He draped his jacket over her shoulders, clearly making a statement before he reached for her hand, wrapping it in his.

"Why? Isn't the shiny nameplate of Senior Partner not good enough?" Alex expertly rode along, locking eyes with her former flame before gazing back at Gabe enticingly. "Forgive him, Julian. My lovely boyfriend here has a bad hobby of underselling himself," she smiled warmly, the irony of her statement eluding her ex. Gabe was about to smirk with her ingenuity, stopping when he felt her arm slowly wrapping around his waist. He barely stifled a groan at the intimacy of her touch.

The other man went beet red at the gesture. For embarrassment or infuriation or both, Gabe didn't fucking care. All he cared about was for Alex to slap this douche's face, metaphorically speaking.

"Anyway, Julian, it's been a pleasure. It's been a long night, and we're about ready to retire at our penthouse suite," steadily, she got up from her seat. The command in her was undeniable, forcing anyone to feel nothing but regret the day they decided Alessandra Keating wasn't good enough for them. Then with a flourish, she turned around as she let Gabe take her away from her past lover's scrutinizing gaze.

Inside the elevator, Gabe caught Alex's exhale of relief, probably thankful that Julian was out of her sight. Gabe still held onto her hand, though Alex didn't seem to notice. As they began their ascent, he waited for her to break the silence, deciding that the questions running in his mind can wait.

"I would have traded my rankings for the look of disbelief in Julian's face," Alex said turning to him, to which Gabe arched his brow.

He smirked devilishly, knowing Alex could take the hint. "I believe I could offer a sight better than that."

She grinned at the innuendo, further lightening up the mood between them. "One day, Gabe, I'll take you up on that," she said, crossing her legs as she leaned on the polished wall behind her. "Though I'm sure you're dying to know... How did I end up dating the Julian Wintour?"

Gabe pondered before answering. "Hmm, actually not the first one that comes to mind, no." He tapped against his temple. "I doubted you would ever bat an eyelash to his direction."

Her eyebrows rose. "Ah, you think so highly of me." She chuckled, shaking her head at his reply. "But yes, he was my ex. And yes, he was the red on my ledger. He was my first love," she admitted. "That ideal, once in a lifetime, true love everyone's talking about? Julian was it, or at least I thought he was." she sighed, glancing at her reflection on the polished metal panel beside her. "But when things started to go downhill for me, he was the first one to walk out," she paused, taking a deep breath. "By cheating on me."

Gabe's body went rigid, clenching his fists so hard until his nails dug unto his palms. What the fucking hell? I know I should have punched that guy's perfect teeth! He decided against airing his vengeful thoughts, staying quiet as he glimpsed at her image on the walls.

"Joey reminded me how Julian made me doubt myself. If I'm really over what he's done to me, if he's still in my head," she continued, rubbing at her nape. Gabe felt her gaze fall on him, which he reciprocated. "But after walking out from him tonight, I am much more certain that I made it out, after all."

Gabe felt her squeeze his hand as she said those words, and his heart somersaulted inside his chest. "So thanks. I needed that little nudge," she said in finality.

He turned to beam at her as he relished the triumph in her words, hoping that it was enough to convey that he was proud of her. And to be part of that discovery about herself, about who she always was in his eyes - someone who was his equal.

When they arrived at her floor, she gently freed her hand from his grasp invoking a sharp exhale from him. She stepped out of the elevator, her gait as undeterred as ever. But then she turned, her soft expression dimmed by the lack of light. "And while we're on the subject of appreciation," she uttered, before dropping one last revelation.

"Thanks for that save you also gave me ten years ago," Alex glanced up at him with half-lidded eyes, her words laced with meaning.

It took him a few moments before he could even comprehend what she was trying to convey. He searched her eyes for some explanation but found none. "What do you mean, Alex?" he said, managing to find his voice.

"I know exactly who you are, Gabriel Ricci."

With that, the doors slowly closed in front of him, her sly smile fading from his sight until he can only see his own reflection. He examined her last sentence, repeating the words over and over in his head. There was only one plausible explanation: she only knew half of the truth. His body sagged against the wall as he shut his eyes, angry at himself.

No Alex, I think you really don't.

Author's Notes: Thank you for your continued reading! As some of you may have already noticed, this part was written purely in Gabe's POV because I wanted to expose his conflicted feelings for Alex. It's probably my own version of revenge, with PB stretching that slow burn as much as they could 🤭 Share your thoughts in the comments, I'd really appreciate it! 💖

Taglist: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @sarcastic01lily @spookycolorpeanut @ophrookie @suitfer

@choicesficwriterscreations

It's my first time tagging a couple of folks, so please inform me if I missed including you. Also, want to be added or removed from the tag list? No problem - just let me know 😊.

[chuckbass-love]

Omg so hear me out! But I have an idea

What if just after a steamy moment between Chris and y/n he tells her that he has to do a sex scene with his co-star for defending Jacob and y/n instantly gets jealous and upset. So she decides to go sleep on the couch cause she doesn’t wanna see Chris right now due to the fact that he’d chosen the worse time to tell her about the fact that he had to pretend to fuck someone else.

And then the day he comes back after the sex scene he does to talk to her and he kissed her but she pulls away instantly and just says something like “How was she? Was she better then me?” And Chris is so baffled that he follows her up to their bedroom trying to get her to talk to him since he’s worried he’s upset her. Below could be his reaction to her question 🙈

Jealous

Hey love!! I love this idea so much! I really hope you love this because i always get a bit iffy wondering if people actually enjoy what i write for their requests. I’m sticking with the gif in the request. I’ve also changed a couple things with this though so yeah.

Also to the other people that sent in requests, i am working through them. They will be published throughout the next 2 weeks. i promise, sorry for slacking😬

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Smut, angst, fluff. Basically the works. Oral (female receiving), fingering, language, insecurities and jealous behaviour.

Word Count: 2,373

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @capsgrantrogers go check them out ❣️

------------------

“God i’m so glad that i’m shooting close to home so i get to do that with you every night” he pants as he turns on his side, his eyes meeting yours.

“Me too” you smile, softly at him. Your hand rests on his face, cupping it slightly as you lean in to kiss him quickly “talking of actually, there’s something i wanted to run by you” you raise a brow and motion for him to continue.

“See, there’s an intimate scene that i’m shooting tomorrow, i wanted to let you know beforehand so you’re not shocked when you see it on tv. It’s just a bit of kissing, we’ll both be shirtless and-” you don’t even give him the time to finish, you’ve heard enough for now.

“Wait, what? When did you find out about this Chris?” your annoyance is abundantly clear at this point, he sits up, letting you finish before he responds. “I only found out the other day. It’s not a long one, it’s a 10-15 second long scene and it’ll be over faster than it starts” you shake your head, getting off of the bed and heading into the bathroom to run yourself a bubble bath.

“But, why now? Why do you choose now of all times to tell me, Chris? It’s hardly the right time. You just finish screwing me and you decide to tell me that tomorrow you have to fake fuck another woman”

“It’s just Michelle, we need to, it’s for my job honey, i can’t exactly say no”

“Whatever, have fun i guess” you scoff, slamming the door in his face and locking it to stop him coming in. You need some time alone right now and a bubble bath should help to calm your angered state. 

You know it’s all just part of his job, it’s his career. Kissing other women is just what it entails but it doesn’t make it any easier. He has to do sex scenes and intimacy with other actresses. You’ve always been jealous but this time it’s the way he chose to tell you more than anything. 

You get into the bath, lying down and trying your hardest to relax your shoulders and your entire body but it’s no use, nothing works. 

On one hand you feel bad for kicking off and getting mad, but on the other hand you don’t care.

All of these insecurities and fears are all just about you being wary of him leaving you one day. Like what if... actually no. NO. You refuse to put yourself in that mind set. You’ve been going strong with Chris for 2 years now. He loves you and you love him. But right now you need to allow yourself time to be mad. 

Once you get out of the bath, you wrap a towel around your body and open the door. No sign of Chris until you start changing. That’s when he appears in the doorway, a look of worry and cautiousness. Like he’s not sure if you’re okay or if you’re still mad at him.

“I’m sorry” he finally speaks up after what feels like minutes of silence and tension “Chris, i’m tired okay” you feel so exasperated and exhausted. It’s not even just because of what happened, you’ve been working hard lately with your own career and maybe all the added stress has caused you to over react but even so, it doesn’t matter. You’re still upset. 

You finish changing before walking out of the room, he follows closely behind, wondering where you are going since It’s late.

“I’m gonna sleep on the sofa” 

“Please, can we just talk about it”

“Chris, seriously, let’s just leave it”

“But you’re avoiding me like the plague all because i have a sex scene to film. Like christ Y/N what do you expect me to do? Make a big deal and refuse, it’s my career” you jump at the way he raises his voice at you, he almost never raises it and what’s worse, he never does it to you. 

You take a step back before responding “it’s not just about that Chris. How would you feel if the roles were reversed? Huh? If i had just finished having sex with you and then blurted out ‘oh by the way babe, i’m going to be fake screwing another man tomorrow, no biggie, love you’” you mock. Not having a single care for how petty you must sound.

“Y/N i love you, i only love you. What is it about this scene? I’ve filmed plenty of them before and you choose now to suddenly say you’re not okay with me doing them. It makes no sense”

“Of course it’s going to make no sense to you, you’re not the one that’s sat back for years and watched it. You’re not the one that’s been insecure for so long and pushed away worries of-”

“Of what? Of me leaving you? You really think some fake sex scene is going to change how i feel about you Y/N? Do you really think that low of me?” you pause for a second, looking down to the floor and spotting Dodger. He looks from you then to Chris then back to you.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes, Chris spots it instantly as he steps closer, closing the space between the two of you. He leads you over to the sofa, sitting you down on it. He kneels in between your legs, holding your hands.

“Chris, i know you love me but i just worry sometimes that with me being what famous people call a ‘regular person’ that you’d be better off with someone in the same career as you, that’s all” 

He just sighs, turning away before turning back to you “I love you and that’s all there is to it Y/N. I don’t care about you not being famous, i hate that word anyway” your eyes meet his as your tears fall. He wipes them away, stroking his thumb across your cheek, in an attempt to soothe you.

“I hate fighting with you, please come to bed with me. I just want to cuddle with my girl before a long day tomorrow” you let out a small giggle, trust Chris to make you smile so easily even after an argument. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so much.

You just nod, not saying another word as he lifts you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and pressing kisses to your head. 

He lays you down on the bed before getting in himself, he pulls the cover over the two of you “I’m glad we spoke about that” you rest your head on his chest as he throws his arm around you “me too” another forehead kiss and you’re out like a light. He listens to your light snores as you cuddle him more in your sleep and he just smiles. 

Chris gets your frustrations and your worries to a certain extent. He understands how his life can get in the way, it can make you insecure. He’s an actor, you’re not. You’re not famous at all. It’s a hard thing to accept but he’ll make sure that from now on, he does everything that he can to make you feel good enough.

-----------------------

As soon as you wake and look over to Chris’s side of the bed, you realise that he’s no longer there. He had an early start with filming for Defending Jacob. So it’s not a surprise to you. Instead of feeling shit about the scene he has to do today, you pull yourself out of the funk, reminding yourself of the words he spoke to you just last night.

“I love you and that’s all there is to it”

He does love you. He won’t stray, you’re the only one for him. 

You decide to shower, to take your mind off of it for now. 

Once you’ve showered, you change and dry your hair before doing your makeup, maybe dolling yourself up will help? Baking is also on the agenda. He’s not back until 5pm today, an earlier finish than normal. The schedule isn’t as hectic.

So you decide that you’re going to make some dinner later, ready for when he gets back. Some chicken and pasta should do, along with a cold beer, his favourite drink. You flop down onto the couch, picking the remote up to turn Netflix on, you have some time to kill before your business meeting over Zoom. Might as well watch more Vampire Diaries.

Your laptop starts making a noise, signalling that the call is ready, you gather your notes before joining the meeting. Your face pops up as well as your colleagues. This can be your distraction for the next hour or so. 

--------------

You finish up with dinner, putting the lid on the pot and making your way to the table with cutlery and drinks, ready for when Chris gets home. He texted that he was leaving the set, that was 10 minutes ago. He’s at least 20 minutes away. So he won’t be long.

Whilst you wait, you sit on the sofa again and you pick your book up and decide to continue reading. 

“Honey” he calls out before entering the room.

Chris’s eyes fix on you, a soft smile and a look of adoration in his eyes as he walks over to give you a kiss. You pull away before he can though. His eyes scan your face for a clue as to what’s got you acting off.

“So, how was she then?” 

He sighs, loudly as he gives you a look that screams ‘really Y/N’ you mean it in a sarcastic way though, just like when you ask “was she better than me?”

All of a sudden you’re being tugged further down the sofa by your legs, your book is pulled from your hands and he’s lifting up your dress, exposing your brand new laced panties. You can’t help but feel embarrassed slightly at his unsubtle and rather seductive behaviour. You don’t think twice about letting him get on with it though. 

“Does daddy need to prove to you that you’re the only one for him?” a pool starts to develop, you shiver at this words and the freezing cold temperature of his hands on your bare thighs. He lifts the dress up a little more until it’s up by your chest.

He pulls you down further before his fingers hook into the panties, sliding them down and off so he can really examine you. You hear a low growl erupt from him as he licks his lips before then taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

You whimper a little, the anticipation is all too much for you, watching him moan and groan at the sight of your soaked pussy. 

Just as you try to buck your hips up, his cold hand causes you to jolt as it pushes you back down.

“Down baby, let daddy make you feel good” 

And just like that, his tongue starts to lick you all over, his fingers circle your tight and needy hole, desperate for you to beg him before he plunges them deep inside of you. But words aren’t possible right now, you can’t even bring yourself to talk as he continues his assault on your sex. Licking, sucking and slurping. Even spitting on it before rubbing at your clit with his thumb, stretching it down as the rest of his hand holds you down on your stomach. 

“Fuck, Chris” you moan, realising what you said after. He prefers daddy, you know this. 

“Now now honey. You know that’s not my name right now, don’t you? I’ll let it go this time but i expect you to correct yourself”

“Sorry daddy”

“Good girl. Now, do you want my fingers baby?” you nod frantically, tugging at your bottom lip “yes. I do, please daddy” he shoves them into your mouth, letting you suck them until he decides that your poor cunt has suffered enough.

You hum against them before he finally removes them, wasting no time in sliding them into you, two to start off with and then a third is added. 

Your back arches at the extra addition and eventually that along with his mouth wrapped around your clit is far too much for you to handle. You’re so sensitive already, you can tell the climax is nearing. 

“Like this baby? Like my fingers filling you up huh?” he starts “daddy only has eyes for you princess, you should know that by now but i’ll tell you what. When we’re in bed later, i’ll prove it to you even more when i’m screaming your name as you make me cum” your walls flutter around his digits, making him smile even more, he enjoys watching you like this. 

He gets a thrill out of making your world spin. When your eyes roll back, when your back arches and your toes curl. Especially when you struggle to speak. They are the best times for him. He loves knowing that he’s the only one that can get you into that state.

His fingers get faster, dragging along your walls deliciously. His tongue flicks over your clit too, sucking occasionally and now your peak is just around the corner.

“Chris. Oh god Chris. I’m gonna cum” you yell, gripping onto his hand on your tummy, which he removes as he holds it above your head. Your hips start to buck like crazy.

“That’s it baby, cum for daddy”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps, thanks to his dirty words of encouragement. 

You don’t move, just lay there panting. Your heart beat is through the roof as you calm down after that intense orgasm. You’ve definitely needed that all day.

“I think we need dinner now” you say, sitting up and adjusting your dress but he just pulls you down so that you’re straddling him.

“There’s plenty more proof where that came from baby, so don’t think that was all” you feel your cheeks heat up as you suddenly go all shy. 

He’s most definitely proved himself but you can’t wait for round 2.

------------------------

General Tag List: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferouss @bradfordmyworld 

Just Chris & His Characters Tag List: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 

[ophiexb]

Coming Out

Julie learns a little more about her boys- or how Julie found out Alex was gay. 

-------------------

Julie doesn’t know much about…..any of the guys really, even her knowledge of Luke is pretty limited and was only expanded slightly by the guys' help. She knows his birthday, that he ran away from home after a nasty fight with his mom, and that he wrote all their songs. Besides that she really doesn’t know very much at all about the guys. Google isn’t help only the one article about this tragic death of a great band, their names, and nothing else.

She starts to pick up little bits of information here and there, she learns quickly that they are totally willing to talk and share way to much. She just has to make the effort on her end. Because she’s mostly banned them from the house(though she’s very aware it’s ignored completely while she’s at school.) Which means she has to come to them to learn anything or get any kind of conversation on who they used to be before they died. She starts spending more and more time in the studio, practically all her free time in there now listening to them, talking to them, and creating new music.

She learns Reggie likes country music. A lot. Almost more than rock music and it’s actually pretty funny, she makes it a personal mission to start showing him more of it and catching him up on the last 25 years of country. Reggies absolutely thrilled. She also learns he’s a huge Star Wars fan, though that doesn’t go over as well as the country music. There’s little small personal things she learns, like how his parents fought a lot. She makes mental notes to close doors a little softer and even when irritated with them she keeps her tone light. She learns that hes definitely weird, really weird. But he’s also incredibly sweet, he cares about the guys almost to a fault and loves them with everything he is. He’s a bit of a dork, but a lovable one and she finds his love for her Dad a lot more endearing. To have a true example of a loving father she can’t take that from him.

Luke is a bit harder, he’s totally willing to share a plethora of music, songs, and band related stories with her but outside of that she had to really catch him off guard. His songs exposed a lot of his feelings, it’s easy to pick things up from there. Things about his parents, about their band. Luke loves music, almost to much. He eagerly takes in all the new songs Julie shows him and asks her all kinds of questions about various artists and music related topics. He loves movies, and she loves showing him all the top movies over the last couple years. The cgi really gets him at first and she cracks up over it for far too long when she shows him a movie from this year first. She learned very quickly that starting with older movies and working up was better-he for a little less horrified at what he was warching. She also learns that the band is everything to him, which she knew but she saw the extent of how much they were a family. Luke shows love in gentle touches and concern. She watched the way he checks on the guys and touches their shoulders confirming they're okay. That they're there with him and okay.

It’s Alex she finds impossible, he’s definitely a lot softer spoken than the other two, but he’s far more sarcastic with them than her. She finds him constantly rolling his eyes at Luke, giving snide remarks and making jokes at their expense. Which means the side he shows her isn’t completely who he is. He gets worked up a little more than the other guys two, she’s caught him pacing a few times when she’s gotten off school but he immediately stops as soon as she comes in. He’s still not quite ready to open up to her the same way the others are and she’s not sure how to get him to.

“Alex...is I mean he’s just a little more…” Luke pauses looking for the right words to describe the blonde. Julie had come to him asking how to create the same bond she had with the other two. To learn about him and show him things he was interested in. Not just stuff the other guys like. “He’s just-you’ve gotta wait until he comes to you about things.”

She pouted, crossing her arms a bit. “But he’s got you guys he won’t come to me.” She gestured.

“I can’t really help you Julie….it’s. Alex is just a little more reserved I guess? We’ve known one another since we were like ten….” There was at least something. So him and Luke were friends long before the band.

She starts to pick up small things from Luke mostly about him. That after hed run away from home he wasn’t the only one living at the studio. It wasn’t full time but from the sound of it Alex spent almost all his time here as well. Enough to have bags of old clothes and personal items they’d found cleaning the loft. He didn’t cave to any of he questions about why, or when or how or anything and it was so frustrating.

She hadn’t gone to see them today, having dinner with her brother and Dad, getting caught up in homework and now she wanted to just unwind with a show curled up in her pajamas and catching up on some new episodes. Her thoughts kept drifting to them though, she should of at least checked in. There’s a soft knock and she turned slowly to see it wasn’t her Dad, the ghost hand coming around and she laughed. “Come in.” She said softly expecting Reggie, or Luke. Only it’s Alex that comes in wearing his shorts and soft pink shirt that she’d grown familiar with. She pauses her show sitting up. “Hey what’s up? Are you okay?” She worried mostly because he was alone and she’d never really seen the other alone before.

“Me?” He asks looking around a little nervously before nodding. “Oh yeah-Yeah. Luke and Reggie have been busy all day-and I guess….” He hesitates and she smiles, patting the bed next to her. This is her chance.

“Come on, I’m in the middle of a show. Your welcome to come watch it with me.” She encourages and he moves quickly at the invite coming to sit in the bed with he. He’s got his shoes off and she adjusts slightly to give him space to get comfortable before hitting play. She’d never invited any of the guys in like this and she’s sure he knows it, he’s being careful not to look around her room to much, to be respectful of her space.

“What’s it called.” He asked softly slowly unwinding more and more as the show played. His body relaxing next to hers as he curled around his knees.

“Its called Shadowhunter's.” She explained shifting slowly to sit up better with him. “It’s based off a book series; it’s pretty good. It’s about these people-they’ve got angelic blood and I guess they fight demons...there’s so much more to it than that but you get it.” He hummed falling silent as they just watch it together. He seems pretty interested and she wonders if she should ask if he wants to rewatch the whole show with her. If he’d like that. She’s so focused on thinking about Alex she’s completely stopped paying attention to anything going on in the show now.

“A-are they together?” Alex asked his voice so soft she barely catches it but her brows furrow and she looks at the screen. Catching the two characters and nodding.

“Oh yeah, Magnus and Alec-there together. In the books they get married and adopt kids and stuff it’s really cute.” She pauses because his eyes are so wide. For a moment she worries because he is from the 90s and who knows what his mindset is on all this.

“Married? But-but they can’t.” He protested softly. “I guess it’s a book or a show or-it’s fantasy but-but that’s-“ He’s stumbling and Julie can’t help but cut him off.

“Alex gay people can get married, like in real life. Not only that but they can adopt and everything-they’ve got rights now.... It got passed a few years ago.” She sits up a little better, his tone is off. It doesn’t sound like someone whose disgusted or repulsed and she’s absolutely floored to see tears coming to those blue eyes when she gets a better look at him. “Hey-woah. Woah what’s wrong I’m sorry.” She said quickly and he sits back further away from her a bit rubbing at his eyes and trying to wipe away the tears but they keep coming.

“No-no it’s. It’s not your fault I just. I never thought I’d see it.” He whispered looking away. “I never thought-I mean. It-it’s a lot.” Julie pauses for a moment looking at him and he’s really crying now his hands pressed against his eyes tightly. Her heart breaks and she wishes she could Comfort him in some way, hoping he doesn’t vanish before they can talk. It clicks now and she’s hesitant as she speaks.

“It’s come a long way in 25 years...it’s not perfect. But rights have come far, education. Acceptance. We’ve got a long way to go but it’s in media, actors are openly out...do. Do you want to see more? More stuff like this?” He nods slowly, his hands slowly moving away and she grabs her laptop, they gently lay out together Alex on his stomach alongside her the two of them close as they can be and she shows him anything she can think of. More shows with open characters, different actors who are out, she shows him when the laws passed and various couples that have adopted. He’s not crying anymore but his eyes are dark, red around the edges and he seems so deflated and yet she senses ease. He’s crying still, a slow silent cry that hurts her more than anything.

“I met a boy.” He says softly, there watching another show together, he’s curled around her pillows and she’d tossed a blanket over him. He looks cozy, his eyes still red and rimmed with tears but she smiles at him.

“Yeah? Recently?” She asks encouraging him opening up to her, just opening it up and being himself in general. She was kind of excited to hear about this guy he met to. 

“His names Willie. He’s a ghost like us.” He confirms and once he says his name it’s like he can’t stop. “And he-he makes me feel like I’m alive. He gives me these crazy butterflies and he has the sweetest laugh.” He confides and Julie beams at him.

“He sounds pretty awesome. Is that where you go when your gone all day?” He nods in confirmation a soft shy smile on his face as he tells her about some of the stuff him and Willie get up to. How he’s really helped Alex adjust to being a ghost and become more comfortable with this huge change in his life. Julie listens smiling and laughing along with his stories softly about how they went to museum and screamed, or walking around talking about celebrities and tourists.

“I’m glad you found him Alex…..you deserve to be happy.” She encourages and it seems like her words truly catch the other off guard his eyes wide and surprised and so soft. He melts almost, his cheeks red.

“Thanks Julie…” He said softly.

Alex unravels after their night together, she learns so much about him and she feels a little proud, the warmth all across her chest when she comes into the studio now and is able to talk with all of them. It’s finally happened the last piece falling into place that truly, and completely makes them a family now.

[kyberphilosopher]

Iɴ ᴛʜᴇ Nɪɢʜᴛ

“ Late night conversations always seem to hold more weight and teach you more about a person than you knew before. They seem to reach a deeper more truthful form of honesty than talking to someone during the day. “ Word Count: 3452 Requested: no. i just... seriously appreciate this character. 

                      .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*

Sleep seemed to follow you around, but never catch you. You weren’t running from it, you weren’t even teasing it in some way. Hell, you were standing still and sleep was still trailing behind. So, if anything, it was the one teasing you. 

It had no affect on your demeanor or travels. Your shots were just as precise as ever, your agility never wavering. While you may have felt sluggish, it was confined only to the inside, and your movements were as fluid as before. Your irises did not dull from exhaustion. Skin did not pale, throat did not dry. Food didn’t become ash, water was no more a necessity than it was before. It was all the same. 

This bothered you more than if the lack of sleep actually took a toll on your life. If it had, that would’ve at least meant that it was possible for you to sleep. It meant that you had to sleep at some point. But with life going on the same, it left you to wonder if you were now bound to a life without some shut eye. It was like torture. No, it was torture. 

“You alright?” Greez asked at breakfast. It was your fourth day without sleep, fifth night. 

The Latero piles some yellow, scrambled food onto his plate heavily, looking up at you as his beady eyes. “I’m fine,” you assured as you took your own fill. It wasn’t as much as Greez’s, but that was okay. He was always hungry.

“You sure? I thought I heard some noises from your room,” he continues. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Alright, alright,” Greez says. One of his four hands waves you off as you take your plate and turn towards the table. “Just keep it down next time, eh?”

“Oh, I’ll do my best.”

You take a seat, your boots scuffing the floor slightly. Cal raises an eyebrow at you as his chewing comes to a slow. A few wisps of hair had fallen around your face with your movement, but that wasn’t what had intrigued him so. 

“You were making noises last night?” Cal asked, his spoon half raised. His pale orbs were trained on you, pink lips flushed. 

“I guess so,” you said, without looking at him. In truth, you had been messing with your sniper when a shock burned your finger and you knocked over your chair. While you prayed no one heard the commotion, it was clear the endeavor had failed. 

You stuff your mouth with a big bite of the yellow stuff. It wasn’t Greez’s best work by any means, but it was hot and better than many other things you had eaten in your life. 

You were a bounty hunter, hired to help Cere Junda and the Latero on their quest. It helped having extra ammunition and someone to help out in combat... and, of course, someone to be the deciding voice in arguments. 

You didn’t care too much for their mission in the beginning. The Jedi Order was made up of a bunch of cruel and ignorant fools who were responsible for more taken lives than saved ones. But while you weren’t big on helping these people, you were big on the pay Cere offered. 

Over time, you actually came to enjoy the pairs presence. Greez was fun to joke around with, and Cere had interesting stories. The both of them respected you for your quiet demeanor and efficient skills. When you ran into trouble, you were the defense. All was well. 

Then Cal Kestis joined the crew. “Okay,” you thought. “A real Jedi this time, that’s fine.” And it was. You never really had a problem with each other- in fact, you found him quite attractive. You always had a weakness for redheads, of course. But the words spoken between you and the Jedi were always short and necessary, never for pleasure. 

You weren’t sure why this was. He had saved your life several times, and you had saved him in turn. Even when you thanked each other sincerely, things felt stiff. Perhaps you were intimidated by him for what he was, or maybe he felt discouraged by you for what you had surely done in the past. Suppose it didn’t matter at all, and you were just forever destined to feel anxious about looking him in the eye. 

“You sleep okay?” Cal further inquired, finally taking another bite. His eyes were still glued to you, taking in your profile. It was a very nice one, in his opinion. 

“Yeah,” you quickly lied. “You?”

Cal looked up and down, from your lips to your upper lashes. He could sense you were lying, though he wasn’t sure to what extent. “Yeah,” he eventually said. “Yeah, I slept fine.”

You didn’t need to be a Jedi to feel that Cal was lying too. You met his eyes briefly, taking note of the multicolored flecks in the iris’s. It mesmerized you, their color. Somewhere between green and blue and grey. They were like their own little planets, circling in miniature orbits and glowing in white light. 

Greez lumbers into his own chair. “I am starving,” he grumbles. One of his hands goes to reach for some spice, causing your eyes to snap away from Cal’s. “Mmm-mmm. You won’t believe what I’ve cooked up today.”

You loaded another bite into your mouth, glancing at Cal from the side. 

He was no longer focused on you, instead shifting his eyes about food and Greez. Locks of his fluffy, orange hair fell out of place. His long eyelashes looked soft as he gazed down. Faint freckles faded in and out with the shadows. Little divots in his lips were like details of a painting. 

“Well, thanks for breakfast, Greez,” he said. 

“Course, kid.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*

Sleep continued to evade you for three more nights. Your normal mood did not budge nor falter, much to your silent frustration. 

You felt more anxious around Cal than usual. Seeing him made something in your stomach spark and fly around, daring to escape your throat in a series of coughs. His eyes seemed more piercing, skin paler. Easier to catch your eye. His voice rang clearer, muscles seemed more noticeable. It was like he was standing out against your reality now, forcing you to see him. 

This was no fault of his or yours, nor the lack of sleep. It was simply a fit of anxiety that impaled your air and haunted your thoughts. 

You catch the wooden ball in your palm, then throw it back into the air. Laying with an arm behind your head and your other hand in the air, your muscles still feel tense. It wasn’t under the weight of your armor, but the weight of stress. You missed sleep so much. You missed dreaming. 

The next time the ball is caught in your hand, you do not toss it upwards. Instead, the ungloved part of your thumb runs over it subtly. A sigh escapes you as you memorize the swirling pattern within. How could something so small and simple evolve into something so complicated?

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you let your fingers go lax. The ball floats up and away as if on invisible strings, setting itself somewhere on your desk. This did not faze you in the slightest, as it was something small you had been able to do since you were young.

You sit upright. Your eyes flit over to your door as a thought crosses your mind, daring you to answer it.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*

“Cal?” you ventured out softly. You did not wish to wake Greez or Cere as well. “I know your awake,” you said. You could feel his presence from the inside of his chest. 

There’s a pause, then the crackling sound of a chair creaking up. Faint footsteps coming closer and closer... finally! The door whizzes open with a beep. Cal’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, his lips parting slightly. “You’re awake,” he observes, almost to himself. 

You partly want to make a sarcastic remark, but your relationship truly isn’t comfortable to do that yet. “So are you,” you say in return. Your left fingers pick at its nails, chipping at the black polish. 

Cal is still in his day attire. A hand rustles the harness on his chest, while the other arm leans against the doorway, above his head at the forearm. “Fair enough,” he says nervously, with a small smile and breath. 

“I uh...” you look down, shuffling your boots. You can’t believe the words you’re about to force yourself to say. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah, just having one of those nights, huh?” he says with another nervous breath. 

“Yeah,” you mutter. “One of those nights.”

Cal has known somethings been off with you. He can recognize the signs of sleep deprivation, no matter how good you were at hiding it. He can’t remember how many nights he’s spent wide awake, thinking of his old life and his losses. Sometimes it would last for weeks at a time without stealing anything from him, which bothered him to the greatest amount. 

Sleep was precious, though it seemed people like you and him were fated to live without it. It was somewhere between a cruelty and a blessing, resulting in a painful and cursed way to live for long periods of time. 

“I guess I was just bored,” you began to say, though Cal started speaking at the same time. 

“You want somebody to talk to?”

You locked gazes, butterflies fluttering around in your chest. There it was- the anxiousness. It was drumming inside the both of you now. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean-”

“Sorry-”

Your eyes widen further. 

Cal smiles softly, his own chest swelling. “Need someone to talk to?” he repeats kindly. 

“I do,” you nod, your shoulders sinking with his politeness. 

Cal moves out of the way, closing the door behind you as you look around. “Hey BD-1,” you say. The droid beeps and whirls around excitedly, bouncing between legs. 

“Yeah, Buddy. I know,” Cal says. The droid gives a long beep in response, prompting a little smile to cross your lips. “It’ll only be for the night, BD. You can go back to sleep.” The droid whirs again before stilling himself.

“Sorry about him,” Cal offers as he turns to look at you with hands on his hips. “Just gets excited about visitors.”

“No, it’s okay,” you say sincerely. While the anxiety hasn’t left, your heart is warmed by the interaction between BD-1 and Cal.

Cal watches you silently for a moment, examining your details. Part of you is wondering if he can read your thoughts, while the other is concerned he’s mapping out how ugly you actually are.

He shakes his head, remembering himself. “Uh, you can sit anywhere,” he offers, gesturing around.

You glance behind you to Cal’s “bed”. A slab of metal with a comforter and blanket and a pillow, similar to your own. Upon sitting on it, however, you find that his is much comfier. It feels soft on your bum and you wonder how it would feel against the other muscles of your body, if you could get tangled up in it.

“Is something on your mind?” the Jedi asks curiously, his pale eyes gazing into yours. You can’t tell if it’s the shade or not, but they always look like they’re searching for something. No matter who or what they’re looking at. It was, in a word, mesmerizing. 

Then you feel intimidated by him all over again. Cal was a Jedi. The Jedi were good. Your work as a mercenary... often led you down a different path. Cal made you feel guilty, even if he hadn’t done anything too obscene. You’d never killed a child, you’d never killed anyone who didn’t deserve to die. But Cal didn’t kill anyone at all- unless they were servants of the Empire, of course. 

“Nothing,” you said instead, eyes wide to give away your lie. You felt so mesmerized and entranced with the person in front of you, intimidated and unworthy. 

“So you’re up because of nothing?” Cal questions, fingers dancing at their spot on his hips. When you don’t answer, seemingly stuck in between the aquamarine flecks of his Cal’s eyes, he continues his dialogue. “And if I don’t believe you?”

You take control of yourself with a snap. “When have you ever known me to be a liar?” you joke nervously, hoping he doesn’t feel it. You let out a breathy sigh as you speak. 

“Since the moment you came in here,” he says softly. And you think he looks like the most beautiful person in the galaxy. 

You’re at a loss for words again, for multiple reasons. 

“Can I ask you something?” Cal questions. 

Now, it’s not a big deal to ask for permission to do something. Sometimes it’s just a minimal, polite line. But for you, in this particular instance, it means everything. He’s not just saying it to say it, or because it flows nicely. Cal Kestis is asking permission because he actually cares if you’re comfortable with what’s about to happen or not. 

You nod without skipping a beat. 

“What was your life like?” the boy asks. “Before the Empire?”

Cal’s eyes flit down to watch your hands ball into tight fists at your knees. Your sweaty palms burn with the friction. Life before the Empire...? Well, you were young when it came about. 

“I was alone,” you start, looking down and averting your gaze. Nobodies really asked about your childhood before, and the fact that Cal has both asked for permission and the question is almost overwhelming. Such a subtle and simple amount of kindness from the right person, can sometimes grow larger than it should. “I guess I was born on Nal Hutta. I don’t really remember my parents or anything.”

“You were born outside the bounds of the Republic?” Cal asks, almost with disbelief. He steps forward once with urgency. 

“Not everyone has the luxury of being born within it,” you say quietly. 

“What about your parents?” the boy further speaks. 

You take in a breath, your shoulders dropping farther. You look up to meet his gaze again, and you tell him, “I don’t know.”

Cal feels bad for asking. He knew it wasn’t any of his business, but he’d pushed anyway. He should not have brought it up. 

The Jedi can feel your sadness creeping through you. It starts in your chest, right at your heart. From each of the strings, it moves outward like waves on a shore, slowly washing up and away. When it reaches your veins, it spurs faster, making your hands feel cold and your toes wiggle for warmth in your boots. 

“I, uh...” Cal crosses to the bench next to his bed. It’s just to your right, closer to the door and surrounded by some shelves of trinkets. He sits down on it slowly, keeping his eyes away from yours out of guilt. “I didn’t know my parents either. If that helps.”

You peak up at him. A smile a little as you watch the nervous young man. “It doesn’t help, but thanks.”

Cal looks up at you, scared that you’re angry. But you’re smiling! Making a weak attempt at a joke! He lets his lips turn upwards as well, just as soft as your own. 

“What about you?” you venture in return, attempting to ease the awkwardness away. “What was life like before the Jedi?”

Cal sighs out and leans forward, elbows on his knees as he thinks. Then he snaps back upright and moves his head slightly as he talks, in that cute little way that he does. “Can’t say I remember,” he says. “The Jedi took force sensitives when they were young so they could train them before it’s too late.”

“Too late?” you question. The memory of all the times you’d been able to push and pull things away from you pops into your mind, but you usher it away before you think about it too hard. 

“Well, the theory is the older they are, the more difficult they’ll be to train.”

“And you? Were you difficult to train?”

Cal wouldn’t be surprised if someone described him as a brat in his youth, even if he had gone out of his way to avoid that. “I sure hope not,” he admits. 

He snaps his head up after out of fear. His words are like a confession of some kind, and he feels more vulnerable than before. He feels more vulnerable with you now than anybody else, and it’s disturbing because you’re relationship has been so blocked up until this point. 

He knows you feel it too, but you’re smiling softly again because you want to make him feel comfortable. Returning the favor to some degree. “I don’t think you were difficult to train,” you muse. “I bet you were a softie.”

Cal’s smile cracks through, and it’s the realest one he’s given in a while. “So what does that make you? A... a hard-y?”

Your face stills. Your eyes light up and sparkle as a big grin comes over you. The laughter falls from your lips, slipping past the fingers that raised to stop it. It’s musical and full of life, making anyone’s black and white picture of you illuminate like a rainbow and kaleidoscope. 

The redheads smile gets bigger as he watches you. He likes seeing you laugh, and he likes knowing that he’s the one that’s made it possible. You look peaceful and true, even though it’ll only last a few seconds. 

Your chuckle dies down soon enough, but Kestis still wishes it had lasted longer. “Maker, don’t ever use that word again,” you sigh out. Your head rolls back against the wall, giving the Jedi a good view of your throat and jaw. 

“You’re a good man, Cal.” 

Your tone is sincere, and your face is wiped clean as a show of honesty. You continue to gaze up at the ceiling before your eyes roll over to watch him. Cal glances down, and then back up at you. His throat feels dry and parched all of a sudden, for the warmth of your words has the ability to make everything else evaporate. 

Cal’s big, broad shoulders heave up and down once before he speaks. “Am I?”

Your eyes twitch in curiosity, silently urging him to continue as he’s peaked your interest. Of course Cal was a good person. Probably one of the best there was. He was thoughtful and quiet, and had the ability to empathize with anything and everyone. Even when he doubted himself, his insight was valued and made clear. 

Cal continues. “My master died because of me. If I had been better, maybe I could’ve saved him. And sometimes I just... I just think back on it. I get stuck in it. Then I can’t breathe.”

“I thought Jedi couldn’t have emotions,” you said stupidly, half to yourself. 

“We’re not supposed to,” Cal admits. “But sometimes I just feel so-”

You cut him off, just as he’s about to say the word ‘angry’. “To have feelings is to be human, Cal.”

Cal shakes his head, which is still dropped down in disappointment, and the weight of it. “I’m supposed to be better than that.”

“Nobodies better than that, Cal. Truly. If they were, none of us would be here.”

Cal looks up to meet your eyes. The truth in them, the sincerity, the empathy is undeniable. Too many people in the galaxy spread hollow words as easy as air, and maybe you’re one of them. But these words aren’t hollow. You believe them. That’s just about enough credibility and kindness to make anybody woozy with disbelief. 

“Don’t you ever wonder if you’re a good person, too?” he dares to ask. Another bold way of overstepping bounds, but it’s too late and full of darkness to stop either of you. 

Cal feels the weight sink into your stomach. Your eyes drop again. “I think it’s a little late for me to wonder about myself at this point. I already have my answer.”

“I don’t think you’re so bad,” Cal says, without thinking. “I don’t think you’re so bad at all.”

When you look up at him again, it feels like the first time. It feels like what should’ve happened the first time. It feels steady and real, and like if you guys do it right, the time that you guys can fall in love for real. Cal would certainly like to. Would you?

You would. But not now. 

“You’re not so bad either,” you promise softly. And for the next moment, Cal’s eyes don’t leave yours as you form your bond in the dead of night, this time in the right way. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*

@omg-we-really-doo @haztory @chokemeanakin @anakinswhore @fanficsforheartandsoul beonuwhg9utwr i can’t remember if this is everyone again. i should make a list. 

[soundsaboutrighttumblr]

WBL meta

We best love: fighting Mr. 2nd episode 2:

Some first, non-exhaustive meta thoughts and reactions to episode 2, about doors left open and overprotective dramatic men, Shu Yi’s relative level-headedness and stuff that finally seems to get rolling

          Last ep’s ending scene again without music was powerful. It’s even more clear like this how even though he submits in words, the control over the scene goes over to Shi De once more, so of course Shu Yi has to angrily nope out, because yeah, too close to where it hurts.

          I like Zhe Yu’s dominance, it brings drive and direction to scenes and development. Also, the petty quasi passive aggressiveness, that in discussing it aloud in Shu Yi’s presence in the car isn’t all that passive actually? Very delightful, especially together with Bing Wei’s gentle care.

         There in the car is the first sign in this ep that Shu Yi can actually step back from his emotions and assert a situation correctly and with honesty, which is why he apologizes. He makes us forget he can do that, and it might be one of the main points of this episode and hopefully what’s to come? That the men in Shu Yi’s life underestimate that ability in him and in their intentions to protect him or take care of him overlook that he has this capability. Because Dad, Shide? Your asses are pretty dramatic, too, and this ep shows that Shu Yi can be the relatively clear-headed calm one, if he needs to, chooses to. You are all underestimating him, and not seeing all that he is and can be yet. I mean yeah, he has a track record, but the fact that he has to remind people in his job even all the time that he knows what he is doing, that he WILL take responsibility, even though he gets emotional? I just wonder what amazing things giving him some credit and trust on that in the future will bring.

          I did like that stalker-Shi De overheard that convo again, because it stubbed the ‘lead him on then break his heart’ plot in the bud in the best way, it accelerated things and Shi De’s break down, but it didn’t take time from them in unnecessary side arcs? I like that, even though it really felt a bit convenient, but then again… I’ll take it happily.

         That typing scene? Where you just wanna yell at them TALK? Man, so close. That must be one heroic promise. I am only being half-sarcastic here. They do have their reasons and intentions, just to show again where it can drive people? The crescendo, the anti-climax? Well done scene.

         Still forcing it all down, Shi De, your words, the alcohol in Shou Yi’s bar… That physically hurt, the way he forced it down, so much of it, though you could tell he could barely keep it down.

          I really, really look forward to knowing more about Doc’s and Technical Chief’s story. Thank you for that music vid in the meantime.

         Workaholic responsible self-distracting Shu Yi and… Hiiii? You gotta be kidding me. Okay, let’s do this.

          That scene: I believe the door stays open out of dramaturgical choice. I will never excuse any overbearing, boundary crossing behaviors, and that obviously is what’s happening here, Shi De, and that will be your thing to work on, maybe Dad’s too, but. The door left open, and the calm demeanor that Shu Yi displays, to me showcase that to some extent Shu Yi chooses to stay in that situation, because he wants answers. Because he CAN choose to stay in that situation, because if he really wanted out he could flare up his anger again, kick some more nuts and leave. I realize this is a difficult argument in a sensitive issue. It’s what I make of it, though. Like I said, unhealthy but powerful things are happening here, but a lot of what they are doing right now is unhealthy, and it is shown to be so I believe, which is important, and it will be their job to realize, question and overcome this.

          So yeah, Shu Yi totally kneed Shi De in the nuts as a warning at around 23:41.

         That river of regret and tears then that switch to the defensive -You are messing with me- again, but still taking it all on your shoulders as a regret and outcome of your decisions, letting him see you struggle with the weight of it all but still not sharing it? That’s a lot to put on Shu Yi, only you don’t, but you do? What a scene, those tears falling onto Shu Yi, yes, Shi De putting his weight on Shu Yi literally, then taking it away again, then throwing it in some more with a plead of emotion, oh boy.

          That shushing and the holding Shu Yi’s questioning mouth shut? Powerful and wrong and powerful.

         Yeah, it hurts and it feels far from right, as it is meant to I believe,  but still the moment Shu Yi kisses back? We still want them to be inevitable, right. I do. Just learn and grow, and I’ll love you from over here.

          Yes, that was on hell of a breakdown, but as far as character development and tension and release is concerned we’re still in that crescendo.

          Maybe the reason that this ep doesn’t leave me all that devastated is the ending, because ooops, something slipped there, Dad, and finally, finally things will have to give, with the truth and those misunderstanding and the scheming and those heroic promises.

            So yeah, Dad will have to realize that Shu Yi must be free to live a life of his own with his own choices, a quite common struggle for protective parents, and Shi De will have to learn that Shu Yi needs to have agency in this relationship too, for when you are equal, you will realize Shu Yi actually IS strong enough to hold you, once you let him, Shi De.

[foundfamilie]

Mutual Understanding

Prompt: How bout some platonic bromance of Carlos and Paul I feel like after the club scene they will have become besties ?

Thank you for the prompt, @daybreak96! I know it’s about 10 months late but maybe you’ll still enjoy it. I haven’t written for this fandom since S1 aired, so I’m a but rusty, I apologise for that

__________________________________

Paul flopped onto Carlos’ couch right after he came through the door. Ever since the night in the club he had been at Carlos’ apartment often enough to feel comfortable to do so. “So, where’s TK?”

Carlos closed the door behind his friend and sat down next to him. “He’s not feeling well.”

“He won’t come?”

Carlos shook his head and checked his phone one last time to see whether TK had changed his mind. He hadn’t. 

Paul sat up a bit straighter and ran his hand over his thighs as if he was nervous. When Carlos looked at him, he was frowning. “But… is he okay with us hanging out?”

“He is, yeah,” Carlos answered and sent a smug smile in Paul’s direction, “I’m a grown man, though. I can decide for myself who to hang out with.”

Paul shrugged. “Yeah, I know you can. It’s just, I met you because of him and I wouldn’t want to cause any… bad blood. Not between the two of you and also not between him and me. Things have been good at the station. Wouldn’t like to ruin it.”

Carlos shook his head in sympathy. “Don’t worry. As long as you don’t come at me I think you’ll be fine.”

Paul chuckled at that and held his hands up. “I’ll do my best but that body of yours…”

Carlos only spared him a sarcastic smile. “Oh, but you do own a mirror, don’t you?”

They were interrupted by his phone, a couple of short vibrations signalling various messages coming in.

TK: I’m really sorry for cancelling

TK: have fun with paul, you deserve it after the week you’ve had

TK: let’s have lunch tomorrow if i feel better? 

TK: say hi to paul and don’t stare at his face or muscles for too long or you’ll lose interest in me

Carlos couldn’t help but smile down at his phone reading the message. 

“TK says hi,” he passed on to Paul and texted back. 

Carlos: lunch sounds great, let me know how you’re feeling

Carlos: never!

As if he would lose interest in TK, the thought itself was ridiculous at this point. 

“Duuuude,” Paul grinned smugly and shoved Carlos’ shoulder, “You’re so far gone for that boy!”

Carlos looked up at him. When he couldn’t think of a witty remark within a second, he just kept on smiling like a Chesire cat. “Yeah, I know. So, um, now that TK isn’t coming, do you want to have a beer?”

“Sure.” Paul said and then noticed that he had never seen Carlos drinking before. “So, you’re only not drinking when he’s around?”

Carlos hesitated. He got up and walked over to the fridge to get the beers, buying himself some time to think about an answer. “He doesn’t drink, so I try not to when he’s around, yeah.”

Paul nodded. Carlos didn’t know how much he knew about TK’s past but from the expression on Paul’s face he at least suspected something. They both left it at that. Carlos wouldn’t be the one to tell him and Paul had the decency not to ask. “How is it going between the two of you?” He asked instead.

Carlos opened the beers, cheered to Paul and took a sip of his. “It’s going up and down. The timing is shit for him but I know that he’s trying, that’s all I can ask for.” He smiled at that, realising yet again how true it was.  They weren’t where he would like them to be yet, but they were good and that was all that mattered for him. “How is it for you? Anything new?”

Paul sighed. “I’ve talked to a few women online… It’s been okay, but nothing real.”

“Has it been different before?” Carlos was careful to ask that. He wasn’t sure how comfortable Paul was talking about his identity or his sexuality and he certainly wasn’t sure how comfortable Paul was talking about all of this to him. “I mean, before you came to Austin? You came from Chicago, right?”

“Chicago is about three times the size of Austin and that kind of shows in my dating options.”

“Do you miss it? Chicago, I mean.”

Paul thought about it for some time, his gaze down, fixed somewhere on Carlos’ coffee table. “I do, yeah.” He shrugged. “Some stuff. I loved the community I’ve had in Chicago but working over there was shit. Here it’s the other way around. Work is good, the team is the best I’ve ever had, the captain, too… I hope the community is something that I can build up over time. My people are everywhere, in some places you just have to dig deeper to find them.” He shrugged again but his voice was too full of emotion to fool Carlos with nonchalance. 

In sympathy, Carlos raised his beer bottle and cheered to him again. “I hope so, too. In the meantime, if you ever need someone to hang out or to talk to, you know where I live.”

“Yeah, thanks man. Same back to you. If you ever need someone to talk to, or if you ever need someone to give your boy a shove in the right direction, just let me know.” 

Carlos laughed. “I’ll try and be patient first but yeah, thanks, I’ll let you know.”

“He is a handful, that’s for sure. Good luck with that.”

“I can handle him, don’t worry,” Carlos said suggestively, “In every way.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Paul threw the cap of his bottle at him. 

“How about you though,” Paul asked about as carefully as Carlos had been earlier, “Are you from Austin? Born and raised?”

Carlos shook his head at that. “Nope,” he answered, “My parents live about two hours to the north-east from here. Very rural, very… Texas, I guess.” He swallowed and smiled self-deprecatingly. “So, I think, I kind of understand the ‘in some places you just have to dig deeper to find your people’ thing.” It was his time to go for nonchalance when he actually knew he wouldn’t fool Paul. They both knew it and still, it helped with the heaviness of dark memories at least to some extent.

Paul nodded. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “When did you come to Austin?”

“Right after school. We’ve been to Austin very often when I was a kid and I’ve always liked it, but when I got older - with the whole coming to terms with my sexuality and such, it kind of became a safe space for me? I mean, it’s not Chicago or New York or L.A., I know it’s not, but it’s the first place I’ve ever felt safe in my whole life, so it is home for me, you know?”

Paul nodded again. He understood this need for a safe space, this need for a home just as much as every queer person. This time, instead of trying to be chill, he shot Carlos a genuine smile. “Yeah,” He said, “I know. I really hope it can be home for me, too.”

Carlos smiled back and leaned over to shove Paul gently. “I hope so, too, man.” And at this point, Carlos was certain that he himself would try and give his best to make it easier for his new friend.

[footballerindreams]

How I Met Your Mother - Kanemoto Yoshinori

Right timing! Yoshi’s birthday is coming up! Therefore here’s an imagine dedicated for him.

S/O to @treasuredays​!

We all know that Yoshi has always adored his hyung, Choi Hyunsuk. But did you know there is one more person is adored…or should I say loved more than Choi Hyunsuk. You could say Yoshi’s family but it’s already given. Actually, there is another “Choi” that he loves: CHOI Y/N.

Who is she?

Oh. She’s just a Kindergarten teacher and just the beloved and closest cousin of Hyunsuk.

And how their love story bloomed is one heck of a whirlwind.

Aside from being an idol, Yoshi had engrossed himself with drawings and paintings. He draws and paints on his other free time (the other free time is producing music). One day Haruto came to his room to ask something and Yoshi was painting.

“Woah! Senpai! When was the last time I came here?” Ruto asked.

“Uhm, last week? Why?” the older Japanese replied.

“Is it just me or your room is now full of your artwork?” the younger said.

At the moment, Yoshi’s room is stacked with so many finished paintings on canvasses on one side of the room, a few stacks of sketches and drawings on his table. And now on the floor is another painting about to be finished as well.

“Do you have any plans for this, senpai?” HAruto asked again.

“Actually, no. You know me Ruto. I just paint and draw as a hobby.”

“Don’t tell me, your going to get rid all of these later.”

“WHAT! NO! I’ve worked hard on this!”

“Ok. But for sure you are not planning to look for another room and use this room as your stock room for all your paintings. And besides your works are good. Why don’t you show it publicly?”

“I did. Treasure map?”

“Aside from that.”

“Then what do you suggest to do?”

And so later that night, the members had a meeting and decided they will have an open exhibit for all of Yoshi’s work. At first they wanted it to display on the lobby of the YG Building. But the other idols (like Bobby-hyung) and the higher ups said, “Go all out.” and in the end Yoshi’s drawings are displayed at the Samsung Museum of Art.

Then came D-Day for Yoshi’s exhibit and as expected, many people came to see his work. From fans, to even high profile people. Hell! Even Samsung’s CEO came to see and wanted to buy some of Yoshi’s artwork and the man was shocked. Did he sold it, of course…No at first. The CEO wanted to buy one of his work for more than 2 Million Won and all of the members are flabbergasted…and more flabbergasted when Yoshi refused it. But after some consideration (thanks to Hyunsuk saying that he can do more paintings if he wants to), he said yes.

 Yoshi is busy roaming around when he saw a group of children, probably Kindergarten students coming in the exhibit hall. Yoshi has always been fond of kids so he said his hellos to them, until he caught sight of their teacher.

“Y/N! You’re here!” Hyunsuk shouted running towards the teacher.

“Hi, hyung! Yeah. It happened that the kids have field trip today and I decided to take them to this exhibit when I saw an ad yesterday. I never expected to see you here too.” Y/N replied.

“Well, the exhibit is all Yoshi’s work. You know him, right?” Hyunsuk said with a smile while patting Yoshi’s shoulder.

“Wow! Is this all of your work?” Y/N was amazed.

“Hai…I mean…Ne!” Yoshi stuttered.

“They’re so beautiful.”

You’re beautiful as well.

“Arigato gozaimasu…” Yoshi bowed in embarrassment.

---

Well, that was not the last time Yoshi saw Y/N. The next time was at Hyunsuk’s birthday.  And this time he really sucked up all the courage he has…just to get her number, which she gladly gave.

Sure after that they sent messages, called, and even hanged out!

Though Yoshi is liking her more and more, he never said what he felt. He thought hanging out with her is enough.

---

“Tadaima.” Yoshi said as he entered their dorm. He just came back from another hangout with Choi Y/N.

“Well, guess who came home so “early”.” Hyunsuk sarcastically greeted while sitting on the couch. It seems like he’s waiting for a particular someone to come home.

“Hyung, you’re still up?” Yoshi said.

Hyunsuk stood up almost jumping from the couch and approached the younger member who is taller than him. “Yeah. Care to say where have you been the whole time?” Hyunsuk asked.

“I was at the studio working on---”

“Don’t lie to me Yoshinori. I know you’ve been meeting with Y/N the whole time you are out of the dorm.” Yoshi swallowed the lump on his throat as he looked at his hyung. He knows Hyunsuk is really serious.

“Stay away from her.” Just is what Hyunsuk only said and then he went to his room.

---

Yesterday

Yoshi! I have free time this Saturday. Can we hangout?

Hi Yoshi! You’re probably busy right now. I’m sorry if I am disturbing you.

Today

Hi Yoshi. Is there something wrong? It’s so unusual that you’re not replying.

I know I sound intrusive, but you know, you can talk to me.

I’m fine Y/N. Don’t worry. =)

---

Y/N is so worried so after her class she decided to go to Yoshi’s dorm to check him out.

“Y/N! Did not expect for you to come. You should’ve told me. I should’ve picked you up.” Hyunsuk said as he saw his cousin outside the door.

“It’s okay. Sukkie-hyung. Anyway, is Yoshi here right now?” Y/N casually asked.

Then Hyunsuk’s face changed. “Why are you looking for him?” he sternly asked.

“I’ve been texting him but he’s not answering. I thought he has a problem, and I was a bit worried.”

“He’s not here!” Hyunsuk replied at bit loudly making Y/N flinched a bit. “I---I’m sorry Y/N. I did not mean to.” Hyunsuk immeditaley apologized.

“Uhm. It’s okay. But are you okay? You seem agitated.” Y/N asked. She thinks something’s up.

“I’m fine.”

---

“Yoshi!” Y/N screamed as she saw the Japanese boy sitting on a bench looking towards Han River. Yoshi heard her voice and looked at her direction. With widened eyes, he suddenly got up from his seat about to leave.

“Wait Yoshi, stop!” Y/N grabs his hand. “Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” Y/N asked.

“No. Nothing, Y/N. I just really have to go. I still have some work---”

“I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM HER!” Hyunsuk came dashing and grabbed Yoshi’s collar pulling him closer. Yoshi is now trembling.

“Hyunsuk, what are you doing?!” Y/N dashed to free Yoshi from her cousin but she was only stopped by the Japanese.

“It’s okay Y/N.”

Hyunsuk grabbed Yoshi’s collar tighter almost ready to punch the other’s face.

“Again. I told. You. To stay. AWAY FROM HER! Which part of that do you not understand?!” Hyunsuk shouted.

“Hyunsuk! I was the one who went to him! What’s your problem?!”

“I don’t want you to be hurt again, Y/N. DO you still remember the time that you came to me crying after you found out your boyfriend was sleeping with another girl?” Hyunsuk replied.

“I do! But Hyunsuk, Yoshi is different. I know, and I believe he’s different.” Y/N cannot take it anymore and said, “I like him, Hyunsuk!”

Hyunsuk let Yoshi got when he heard what his cousin said.

“I like him. What can I do? I can’t help it.” Y/N kneeled on the ground and cried.

Yoshi came closer to her and wiped her tears away. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I avoided you. It’s just that I don’t want Hyunsuk-hyung to hate me and you to become sad.” Yoshi held her hand. “But now I know too. I like you too, Choi Y/N.”

Y/N hugged him tight for the first time.

While Hyunsuk just stood there, feeling guilty for what he did.

It turns out that Y/N had a prior relationship before Yoshi. A Japanese expat working at a big Korean firm. Y/N was so in love with him and she would always tell Hyunsuk about him. But then she caught him cheating on her. When Hyunsuk knew, he could not control himself and almost thrown his reputation away as an idol. Thanks to Y/N and her kindness, he stopped before he lands a fist on the guy. At that point Hyunsuk was always on guard for his cousin, especially with Japanese men.

---

Yoshi and Y/N’s relationship bloomed and stayed strong. When Seung and Yong were born, Hyunsuk tried to tease them to seal the deal and give his twins a cousin to play with only for him to get a sassy reply from his cousin.

“Don’t you dare tell us to seal the deal. You haven’t even sealed yours! Do it first.” Y/N said that made Yoshi laugh at his hyung.

We can say Yoshi is a box full of surprises. During Jihoon’s wedding, he asked Jihoon to intentionally throw the garter to him and Jihoon’s wife to throw the bouquet to Y/N. The newly wed couple made it as natural as it is. And it really happened. The bouquet was thrown first, and Y/N got it.

Then instead of a garter, a small white box was thrown and Yoshi, as intended, got it.

They were at the center and the people are watching them. Then Yoshi kneeled and Y/N was shocked.

“I want us to be the next couple to get married. I think it’s time to seal the deal. Choi Y/N, will you marry me?” And Yoshi opened the box revealing an Aquamarine gemstone ring.

Y/N can’t believe what’s happening and cried, “Of course I will!”

---

A few months after their engagement, the got married in Yoshi’s hometown of Kobe. And during that time, Hyunsuk was the best man. He even delivered a speech for the couple.

“I don’t know why but my cousin has a thing for Japanese men. But I’m happy that out of all Japanese men she met, Yoshi is the one she is spending her life with. At first I was afraid that things will go wrong again, and that Yoshi, eventhough I know he is a good man, will be the same as the prick who broke my cousin’s heart. But he proved me wrong. And also, I know Yoshi adores me so much. Even during Treasure box time. But I did not expect he would go to the extent of being a part of my family tree. But anyways, welcome to the Choi family, brother, and cousin-in-law. Cheers to the newly weds.”

And then a year after, Hikaro was born, much to the happiness of Seung and Yong.

[pridewhatpride]

"rival"

There you are. You. Asking for a GX Rivalshipping drabble with 'Rival' as a keyword. Here you go. I hope you're happy ;; The length is around 2k words.

Special thanks to @deadkura for proofreading, but I note that any and all mistakes are on me. They were just... my poor lab rat. Apologies, my friend.

That aside, there are no warnings that need to be given, this is light-hearted in tone. Nobody dies and nobody gets hurt, aside from Shou who happens to be there at some point and just succumbs to the need to get on with some semblance of a plot.

... It's on Ao3 because why not. Here.

The story is below the cut! Enjoy (or don't)!

____ ____ ____

Manjoume could vaguely remember the first time he’d watched the Battle City recordings. He couldn’t remember when it had been exactly, but he did know he’d been at a classmate’s house with a bunch of other kids. He had a faint memory of being pressed up against other children, all of them shouting and cheering along as the duel between Seto Kaiba and Yugi Mutou came to a roaring end.

… It had been noisy. And he’d found himself mildly annoyed. Not that the duel didn’t have him on the edge of his seat- quite the opposite. He was completely mesmerised by the unforgiving tornado of grace that was Seto Kaiba, most of all. Perhaps that was why he’d found the others to be so bothersome in that specific instance. It seemed very rude to him that they would take him out of the experience with their screams. Was that fun? Was it supposed to be fun? Was he simply out of the loop? Should he have been screaming, too?

The thing he could recollect with a surprising amount of clarity was some kid who’d grabbed his arm to get him off the couch. To this day, he still had no clue what his name was.

“Jun! Come on, I want to play Yugi! You can be Kaiba!”

He remembered muttering something about the suggestion being extremely stupid. The kid wasn’t Yugi Mutou and neither of them possessed any Duel Monsters cards. What was the point of just replicating what they had just watched on screen? They could just… rewatch the scene. But the kid had seemed to be very set on the idea and when Manjoume looked around to see expectant looks on the others’ faces, he ended up giving in. He remembered thinking something along the lines of: ‘Why me?’ And even in retrospect, it made very little sense. He’d never played with this specific kid before. He was a friend of a friend- or a friend of someone he thought was a friend at the time.

“Why do I have to do this?” He had ended up asking, not hiding any sign of his annoyance. “Because you’re like Kaiba!” “I am?” “Yeah! You always say mean things like him! And Taro says you’re like… super rich.”

The rest was a bit of a blur, but he remembered being the ‘Kaiba’ of the group, for as long as it lasted. Which wasn’t a very long time, admittedly. But it had been the one and only ‘friend group’ he’d found himself being a part of, up until he’d entered the dueling circuits, when people started sucking up to him either because of his early successes or just to see what could be squeezed out of the youngest of the Manjoume brothers.

Reminiscing about things like that was… weird, to say the least. He wondered why he’d been that stuck up, even as a kid. He just couldn’t figure out what exactly had made him believe that acting like he was above everyone else could get him anywhere at all. Of course he was aware of the futility of the act, now that he’d grown up and a few years had passed, but it turned out that knowing something on a rational level does not, in fact, equal being able to put it into practise.

… He knew why he was doing what he was doing, anyways. It had stopped being meanness for the sake of being mean when he knew he could get away with it and had stepped into habit territory. And he hadn’t been allowed to go to Duel Academy so that he could make friends who shared the same hobby. He had imagined that 3 years could go by in the blink of an eye if he got involved as little as possible. All that mattered was winning duels, right? And the last thing he needed in order to do that was to start caring about his opponent’s feelings, really.

The thing he hadn’t really considered was that, maybe, his winning streak wouldn’t last forever. He should have known that the outcome of a duel did not depend entirely on how driven one was. It was still fucking annoying to have to see everyone’s surprised- no, incredulous faces upon seeing him finally defeated. Finally, yes. Clearly people had been waiting for nothing more than to see him brought to his knees. It turned out they had firmly believed he had no actual merits outside of his family connections. They had their long-awaited confirmation. He’d lost a single fucking duel. Obviously he was nothing but a blowhard.

Well, good. Whatever. He couldn’t have cared less.

What did infuriate him, however, were the words that the idiot who’d defeated him had exclaimed, entirely unaware of the fact that he’d just completely crushed everything Manjoume had tried to build for himself.

“That was a fun duel! We have to do this again some time!”

He hadn’t cared to stay behind to listen to anything else the other had to say. The guy clearly hardly had a clue where he was or what he was studying to become. Who had allowed that moron to smile like that while trampling his pride? How the fuck had Manjoume let himself be defeated by someone like that?

May the fucker go to hell. Him and his dumb red uniform. Everyone in the Academy. They could fucking die for all he cared. And Manjoume would have probably laughed at the sight.

He really thought he would have. And yet.

As he was going over his deck, sitting with his back against a tree, doing his best to avoid anyone and everyone, he heard footsteps approaching, accompanied by two voices he felt he knew.

“Aniki, I still can’t believe you beat that guy- he’s an Obelisk Blue- and the top ranking first year at that!” … Is this- “He is? Well, that checks out, he was pretty tough.” That’s- Yuki Judai. No doubt about it. “But you beat him.” … Because that needed to be pointed out, how insightful. “Doesn’t everyone lose at least once?” No. “Not against Osiris Red students!” Exactly. “… Why does that even matter in the first place?” It just fucking does, asshole. “Because! A top student isn’t supposed to lose against just anyone, Aniki! I don’t think he took that well.” … Who the fuck would. “Why, though. He didn’t duel poorly or anything. We were pretty evenly matched, there shouldn’t be shame in that.” “Doesn’t that just make it worse?” “… Does it?”

He’d known they were about to pass him, but didn’t bother getting up or making it look like he hadn’t heard anything. He’d clearly been right about this Yuki guy. A complete idiot who clearly understood nothing of what it meant to be a duelist. He glared at the two as they walked by.

… Ah, so the other was Marufuji. A failure younger brother, much like him. How ironic. The boy looked absolutely devastated to see him, too. What, wasn’t expecting the woods to have ears, eyes and a blue uniform?

He furrowed his eyebrows as Yuki abandoned his carefree walking posture, disentangling his fingers from behind his nape and letting his arms drop to his sides. And then proceeded to point straight at him, as if he’d just seen a mythological creature prancing about. Tch.

“It’s Manju!”

… Was that supposed to be a joke? Why was his first thought that that would make for an awful pet name?

After a second of silence, he decided there would be no harm in responding as he usually would to his name being tossed around improperly. “It’s Man-jou-me,” he corrected, making it a point to hold a hand up to count the three syllables as he spelled them out. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not actually food.”

Marufuji’s hands shot up to cover his face, at least he had the decency to be embarrassed for his friend. … But Yuki just laughed. “What! My name isn’t so forgettable that you’d just mistake it for dessert, asshole!” And laughed harder. “I-“ he paused to catch his breath. Manjoume looked on, entirely unimpressed. Hopefully. “Look- look, I’m not the best with names, I didn’t-“ a loud exhale. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I swear.” “… Sure you didn’t.” He tried to keep his voice as hostile as he could. But he… couldn’t fully bring himself to shut the guy down. He supposed his laughter was just contagious.

“Glad that’s settled!” He turned around to face a barely still present Marufuji. “See, Shou? The guy isn’t so bad!” Ah. Right. It had almost slipped his mind. “Aniki- please, I get it, there is no need-!”

“I’ll be winning the next one, anyways,” he said as he got up. And that, apparently, was enough to get both boys to gape uselessly. For half a second. Because before anything else could be said, Yuki shot him a thumbs up and a wide smile. “I’m counting on it, Manjoume!” He couldn’t stop himself from smirking back.

It didn’t take long for rumours to spread about a supposed rivalry between himself and Yuki Judai. It turned out that most off the students of the Academy had very little to do aside from gossiping about such things, which was honestly just a disappointment. Perhaps that was why Judai ended up growing on him, despite everything. While he wasn’t necessarily serious or studious by any means, he was… passionate. He meant it when he said that he was looking to have fun and, to an extent, it was admirable. Enjoy the game no matter the outcome. Easier said than done. But in a sense it was… pleasant to get along with and play against someone who was so different from him.

On one specific evening, they had ended up staying out, discussing strategies and dispensing sarcastic advice- or at least that was what Manjoume was doing. Judai actually seemed quite intent on asking how he’d built his deck and why he’d chosen certain card combos rather than others. They had had a match a few hours prior and Manjoume had surprised him with some new faces. Manjoume Jun was a lot of things and predictable wasn’t one of them. And if the way Judai’s face lit up whenever he pulled a surprise play was anything to go by… it was clearly a trait he appreciated immensely, which it was something that made him swell up with pride. To the point where, when switching out cards, he would often find himself thinking about what Judai’s reaction would look like upon the big reveal of his new strategy.

“It’s always my pleasure to be your lab rat, Manjoume.” The response came in the form of a light shove. “Oh shut up, I like testing out things and, clearly, so do you.” Judai’s laugh rang out, light and unintrusive. “You’re right about that, at least.”

They spent some minutes silently studying eachother’s decks. Manjoume had been about to comment on the card ratio, before Judai blurted out something that made him forget all about it. “We’re kind of like Yugi and Kaiba.” And then a necessary addition, judging by the urgency in his voice. “If they had been actual friends, that is.” … Huh. One of his eyebrows shot up. “Don’t tell me it’s because you win most of the times and I’m a stuck up asshole who also happens to be rich.” Judai laughed, as he always did. And it was only fair that after being shoved earlier he’d playfully punch Manjoume’s shoulder. “That could be one way to look at it, I guess.”

A small pause followed. And the increase in intensity of the sound of shuffling cards suggested that Judai was… nervous. “What I meant to say is that we’re rivals. Like them.” Majoume scoffed, without any actual bite, his eyes set on a Polymerisation copy. “That isn’t specific to them. Isn’t it just… normal? To have someone you want to defeat, I mean?” “Hah, so you admit I’m the role model you’re striving to overcome!” “I didn’t say anything of the sort, dumbass.” “… Well, for me… playing with you keeps the game fun.”

Manjoume actually looked away from the Elemental Heroes he’s been adamantly staring at. He turned to face Judai, who seemed to have been looking his way for some time.

He would do that a lot. Make a joke, get a snarky reply and immediately say something serious afterwards. What an idiot.

Fun he said, huh? “Not that it isn’t fun in and of itself, but it’s different, I guess. I find that I actually do want to win, when I’m up against you.” Judai’s hand moved to play with his bangs. “I didn’t think I’d ever think twice about a lost duel, but I… kind of do, now.”

“Oh yeah, sorry- Welcome to the magical world of normal people who don’t necessarily win every single time.” “You speak like I’m not the only one who’s beaten you.” “So do you, asshat.” Judai’s expression morphed back into a smile. “It’s refreshing to have a genuine challenge. If you were to quit I would probably lose my interest in playing, too.”

Ah. That part of the Yugi-Kaiba rivalry. He felt like he started to understand.

“Keep dreaming, Judai. I’m not quitting anytime soon. I vowed to never let you off the hook.”

He thought of what he could or should say next. A part of him suggested: ‘You make it fun for me, too.’ That wasn’t in his style, however.

“But I have to agree. I’d get really bored if winning were to become too easy. You’ll die before I allow you to quit, Judai.”

[bestintheparsec]

The Same Coin - Part 2

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: The pace is ~slowly picking up for these two😌 I didn’t allow any pining yet but it shall come soon and I hope you like the mild softness in this part😏 I hope you like this one, and as always thank you so much for any feedback!

Words: 3.0k

Warnings: a hint of angst, slow roast burn?, a crumb of Tender™

You roll your neck and shoulders, trying to relieve some of the aches from the day. As of late, you’ve been sedentary at work, and it’s starting to have an effect on your muscles. You look across the desk at Steve, who’s been in the same boat. This new management is really starting to get on your last nerve. Lately they've been restricting the amount of time you're in the field. Before anything makes it to your desk, it has to first collect dust on the ambassador’s, then the colonel’s, then Messina’s. They’ve claimed all this funneling of information is for “efficiency”—you’re not entirely sure they know what the word means. By the time any intel makes it into your hands, it may as well have never been reported at all. You can imagine the laughs this system has given Escobar as he continues to be a free man from one day to the next.

Steve puts out his cigarette and meets your tired eyes. “You good for the day?” he asks, the same exhaustion in his own voice.

“I’m going to try to get ahead on some of tomorrow’s bullshit before I head out,” you say with a sigh. “Can you take some of Peña’s stuff to him if you get home first? I’ll bring the rest after.”

He nods and stands up, tucking his gun behind his back before grabbing the files and heading out. Your desk lamp is the only thing lighting up the space as you work quickly to get the files sorted. You’re the last one here, but you’re nearly as alone as you are during the day, with only your thoughts and the messy stack of papers keeping you company. 

~

“That’s all we had for today,” you say, dropping the heavy stack of files onto the marble countertop. The large red stamp that says “CLASSIFIED” across the top of each folder is deceiving in its urgency; it’s more than likely just another pile of useless leads that Escobar’s already one step ahead of. But it has to be sorted through nonetheless, much to Javier’s annoyance—another long night of mindless paperwork awaits.

Javier’s off his crutches and back to work now, but only to an extent. He’s still unable to walk fully without a limp, and is currently assigned to working from home unless absolutely necessary—though he’s convinced that this is less about his safety and more about preventing him from going on another undisclosed mission. He’s only been back at the embassy a handful of times since getting shot, but if he can’t be involved in the action out on the field he may as well stay in his own place and let you and Murphy deal with the assholes that hover over everything you do.

He skims the stack of documents before looking up at you. “This is all?” he jeers sarcastically, raising his brows. 

“Hey, you didn’t have to deal with the shit that Steve and I had to look over today,” you remark. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Yeah. Another fucking wasted day. Real lucky, he thinks, huffing quietly as he flips the first folder open.

He observes silently as your eyes dart to the medication bottle on the counter, then to the kitchen. You carry the same tension in your posture every time you come over here—always making sure things are in their place, even off-duty. He almost rolls his eyes, but unconsciously stops himself before you turn back to him.

You don’t say anything, but he knows you’re just itching to mention the excess bottles of liquor, or the lack of any real food on his shelves. He’s been taking his meds and cleaning his wound like he’s supposed to, if only so you would leave him the hell alone about it. Or maybe you were starting to get to him, more than he thought—and certainly more than he’s allowed.

“Do you need anything else?” you ask, tapping your fingers on the counter. It’s all become routine now—you ask if he needs anything, he replies that he’s a functional adult again and therefore should just be left alone. The usual. Though he’s recently noticed you don’t fidget with your hands or the fabric of your clothes as much anymore, for a reason he doesn’t know—why he’s caught on to this, he doesn’t know either. 

Javier shakes his head, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one.

“Well, then...I’ll leave you to it,” you continue. He watches as you leave his apartment for what has to be the thirtieth time, quietly locking the door behind you—as if he can’t do it himself—the familiar sound of metal clicking into place followed by your footsteps fading away.

~

As you drop off today's documents, you wonder if Peña notices the slight change in your voice, the growing darkness under your eyes. Steve certainly had. “You look like hell,” he'd told you at the office today. Truthfully, you’re just tired. Tired of running in circles and chasing someone who might as well be a ghost; a ghost that leaves chaos in its wake and haunts you at night. Tired of bosses who don't seem to have a sense of urgency about any of it. So you probably do look a bit rough. But you’re too preoccupied to care. 

“Murphy told me it was a long day,” Javier comments, breaking your momentary reverie. You look up at him. 

It's been longer than that.

He takes a sip from his glass and gestures up and down at you with his free hand. Your hair’s a mess and your blouse is untucked and unbuttoned all the way, revealing the tank top you’re wearing underneath. “Have you, uh, slept recently?” he asks with a smirk on his face, his tone laced with teasing. You’re not in the mood for it.

“I don't want to fucking hear it, Peña.” You say it in such a way that it wipes the grin off his face. 

If he’s bothered by your remark, he makes no indication of it. Instead of responding, he leans against the counter, waiting for you to continue.

“Work was work, but the ambassador gave us hell,” you explain, abruptly slamming today’s files down on the counter. “I don’t know what anybody’s problem is anymore—do they want to catch these bastards or not?”

Javier meets your eyes, speculating when the last time you actually got some rest was, if you slept as restlessly as he did. He quickly pushes the thought away—why should he be concerned? But he nods anyways, knowing the feeling well.

“I have access to better CIs than the bullshit we're given,” he remarks. “You're the one who won’t get on board.” 

Your mouth twitches, and you can't resist. “Another informant? Jesus, Peña, doesn’t your leg hurt?”

He glowers at you. "Not that kind of informant," he quips, muttering under his breath.

“Anyways, I don’t know what’s worse, mindless paperwork, or busting our asses while trying not to get killed out there,” you say under your breath, mostly to yourself.

A brief silence passes. “I know,” he finally says with resignation. He rubs the area over his brow bone, seeming to contemplate what else to say. “I know how those assholes are,” he adds, and you’re surprised that it sounds genuine.

The lack of a sarcastic response is unexpected. It’s almost as if a silent but mutual understanding has materialized between you, and you’re not quite sure how to feel about it. For now, at least, it’s a somewhat nice change.

Your lips curve into a reluctant smile. “But I have to deal with those assholes, and you, too,” eliciting an eye roll and soft chuckle from him.

Another few ticks of the clock go by before you both turn to the stack of documents. Peña sighs.

You don’t know what overcomes you when you speak again. “I can help you go through it...if you want,” you offer with a shrug, though it sounds like a question.

He looks at you, a brow raised. “Why?”

You want to answer but you’re not too sure yourself. “The faster we can get this shit done, the sooner we can get back on the field.” Just this once, you think. If Peña’s thrown off by your suggestion, he doesn’t let it show.

Without another word, you each take half of the pile and get to work.

~

There are many things you’ve never noticed about Peña’s apartment before—you ponder this as you sit on his couch, leaning over the coffee table perusing today’s documents. You’ve been here too many times now, but have never paid attention to the smaller things. The frames that line his wall don’t contain photos of other people, but of a few dogs; presumably his, but it makes you wonder if he’s not close enough to anyone to have a picture of them. There’s a lot of books stashed away on some shelves, covered in dust but worn as though they were once well-loved. A month ago you would’ve thought the only books Peña read were those titled How to Be an Asshole 101. But most of all, you realize his apartment is just about as empty as your own; minimal decor and just the essentials. The years have gone by here in Colombia, but you have never bothered to make the place feel more like home. A job is a job. Things may change by the minute when you’re DEA, but somehow the days are all exactly the same. A heavy conscience is all that fills your empty apartment, and that’s more than enough clutter for you. 

You snap out of it when he comes out of the bathroom, having just changed his bandages. The bullet wound has mostly resolved—that's what he tells you, anyways. But he still walks with the limp, and you can tell he hates it; you know he’s not someone who can sit still and do nothing for such long periods of time. Fortunately—or not—he can do some work at home. Somehow you’ve found yourself staying over more often to help get the work done; much more than the one-time occasion you'd convinced yourself it would be. At first it’s just a few spare evenings, quiet nights that would have been dull anyways; a few extra hours after work here and there, slowly making a dent in the piles of busy work you’re given. Steve comes over occasionally, but he actually has someone to go home to so it’s never for too long.

Several times you argue over the correct method to go about hunting down a new lead—conventional versus methodical, straight-forward versus roundabout. You bite the inside of your cheek when he doesn’t agree and he groans with exasperation. But how much of it actually matters? you wonder. At the end of the day, Escobar still walks free. The last time you were on the field together, La Quica slipped from your fingers, and then some.

At some point, you attempt to explain your thought process; the reasoning, the logic. It’s not the first time you’ve tried to, but for some reason, Javier listens. Really listens. And, even stranger to him, he starts to understand. His world doesn’t turn and he won’t change his mind anytime soon, but he slowly figures you out. And somehow, the few hours you spend in his flat have slowly turned into longer evenings that go well past midnight. 

It takes you longer, but down the line you unwittingly start to understand him, too; not a lot, and not completely by any means. But for the first time since working with him, you no longer have this urge to shoot daggers with your eyes when you look at him.

Tonight looks to be another one of those long nights. You rest your chin on your hand, watching as Peña plots out a map of the city, narrowing down the potential hideouts of Escobar’s men. These late nights are getting to you, and you let out a big yawn without noticing. He stops mid-sentence and meets your eyes, and for a second you think you see a hint of amusement; it’s quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.

You take a moment to stretch your arms and back, and Peña gets up to walk over to the kitchen. You decide to move to the floor for a change, crossing your legs on the cold, hard tile. He comes back with two glasses and a bottle of liquor he didn’t even have to read the label on before grabbing.

“Drink?” he asks, setting the glasses down and joining you on the floor.

You nod and push your hair out of your face, taking a glass as he pours the clear liquid into it.

“Do you think we can find them?” you suddenly ask, swirling the drink around. “Any of them?”

He looks surprised by your question; not because it’s a strange one but because it’s not something that’s ever discussed. Plans are put into place, actions are taken, orders are followed. “We’ll get him”, is the only thing spoken, a motto repeated in the face of defeat. “One way or another.” For a long time you’ve all been running on autopilot, simply chasing down one chance after another. More losses than wins, yet everyone refuses to back down. It’s the sort of thing that starts to wear a person down when they’ve been doing it long enough.

He must be lost in the same train of thought, taking a few seconds longer to realize you’re waiting for an answer.

“I wouldn’t stay here if I didn’t,” is all he says, raising his glass.

It’s nearly the same thing you tell yourself, especially on nights when it’s harder to sleep. You purse your lips and nod, turning your attention back to the files at hand.

~

Javier turns out the lights and pulls himself under the covers, letting out a heavy sigh as he runs his hands over his face. He needs this damn leg to heal itself soon—every day he’s not on the field is another day he can’t go after those assholes. He considers contacting one of his CIs again, but for a second he feels a sensation he can’t explain. Doubt? It’s not guilt—he can’t feel something that’s already made a home in the back of his mind. It’s fleeting, gone before he can think anymore of it. He thinks of you and wonders if it's the same things that keep you up, because it’s obvious that something does. When he finally lets himself close his eyes, he realizes he’s thought of you too often for his own liking. In his defense, you have been at his place more frequently. But so has Murphy, to some extent, and it’s not like he’s been thinking of him in his free time.

He groans and rolls over onto his good leg’s side and moves into the middle of his empty bed,  waiting for the images that fill his thoughts every night to lull him into another restless slumber.

~

You’d come over straight after work tonight, not bothering to drop your stuff off at your own place first. 

Recently the higher-ups passed a new lead into your hands—a good lead, and a usable one, for once. Finally having something interesting to follow, you’ve spent many more hours poring over the details. 

You haven’t even so much as looked up from the pictures on the table for at least an hour. Javier blinks the dryness out of his eyes as he leans back and massages the back of his neck, tempted to have another smoke. The clock reads 2:03. It’s later than he thought.

He stands up, putting the papers down on the table. “I’ll be back. Gotta change this dressing again,” he says quietly.

Somewhere between the complete silence and the sound of Peña shuffling around in his bedroom, you toss your pen down and lean back against the couch. Your back aches and the back of the couch is cool and comfortable. You uncross your legs, trying to relax for just a minute.

It's a while before Javier walks back out into the living room, about to say something when he sees you leaning against the side of the couch with your eyes shut. You’re holding your hands close to your body, as though you didn’t mean to let yourself get comfortable. He initially resists the urge to smile at the sight, but lets out a chuckle when it becomes obvious you won’t catch him. He debates waking you up, assuming you’d rather not stay overnight at his place. But after a few moments he decides against it, turning to go back to his room.

You’ll just be grumpy if he wakes you up. Best to save himself the trouble of dealing with it. Javier tells himself this as he pulls a spare blanket from the closet, then limps back out towards the couch. He gently shakes the thin blanket out and drapes it over you. It smells faintly of mothballs, but it’s clean and serves its function—his other guests usually share his blanket. He’s about to go back to his room when the loud roar of the AC suddenly brings a cool breeze into the room. He looks at you again, readjusting the blanket and pulling it up over your shoulders.

He pauses before turning off the lamp beside the table, his gaze lingering on you. You haven’t moved; it must’ve been a longer day than you let on. You’ve still got those tired lines under your eyes, but when you’re not nagging at him, you almost look peaceful. It’s such a marked disparity from the world outside that, just for a moment, he feels a bit at ease himself.

When he sees you like this, Javier decides that maybe you’re not so bad after all.

~

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[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Probably crack and a result of staying up way too late, but how do you think an AU where Peter dated and married Naomi instead of Nora would go?

This officially goes on the list of “ships I never considered before, but now that you say it I can kinda see it.”  Peter’s clearly got a competency kink, between Eva and Nora.  Naomi deserves better than Dan.  They’re both overworked single parents who try to do what’s best for their kids, and don’t always succeed.  Peter’s good at the nurturing and hug-giving and supportive side of things, not so much at the day-to-day practicalities.  Naomi’s excellent at making sure everyone is fed and sheltered and keeping up in school, not so much at the touchy-feely stuff.  Yeah, I can see it.

Anyway:

They meet through the PTA, naturally.  Naomi’s there to stage a formal protest about the high school’s suspension of late-bus service, and Peter’s there because this is the once-a-month night out of the house that Marco keeps scheduling for him.  Naomi makes a sarcastic comment about the U.S. government’s idea of “sufficient funding”, Peter jumps in with a one-liner about science grants, and four hours later they’re still companionably trashing the NSF over their third round of bake sale brownies.  Peter makes the first move, of course.  Naomi sets the time, the venue, the curfew, the transportation, and the expectations for the night, of course.

Jake thinks this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life.  The more both Marco and Rachel call him to complain about their respective parents, the funnier he finds it to be.

Both Naomi and Peter are pleasantly surprised at how well their kids get along.  They were both vaguely aware that Marco and Rachel knew each other through school, but neither one is prepared for the instantaneous companionable banter the teenagers fall into the moment Peter first brings Marco over to meet Naomi.

The first four or five times Marco comes around Rachel’s house for dinner, Jordan hides under her hair and watches him in enraptured silence.  After about two months’ worth of this, Rachel drags Marco aside after an Animorphs meeting and has a stern conversation with him.

Neither of them will tell the others what they talk about, even though Ax expresses concern at the brilliant red shade both their faces have taken on and Cassie gives them a knowing smile.  Technically Tobias overhears the whole thing — the others tend to get so caught up in hawk eyes that they forget all about hawk ears — but he’s nice enough to keep his silence.

The next time Marco’s over at Rachel’s house, he lets out a seven-second belch after downing an entire can of Mountain Dew in one go.  Over the next ten minutes, he insults Jordan’s favorite boy band, picks his nose in front of everyone, claims he’s going to die alone because girls are gross, and (to Rachel’s quiet shock) too-casually acknowledges his raging crush on Brad Pitt.

Anyway, it works like a charm.  Jordan gets over her crush pretty quick after that.

“You didn’t have to go quite that hard in the paint, you know,” Rachel says to Marco much later.  “Pretending to like Brad Pitt, I mean.”

Marco is lying on her bed, looking through one of her back issues of CosmoGirl with the air of a forensic anthropologist picking apart the dismembered remains of a human sacrifice.  “What?” he says, back in that too-casual tone.  “I can appreciate a good pair of lips, no matter what type of human being they grow upon.”

Rachel spins around, looking away from the mirror where she was fixing her hair.  Marco is now staring at the magazine as if trying to detect a coded message between two lines of the spread comparing different brands of eyeliner.

“No matter what type?” she asks.

Marco lifts his chin.  He doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t laugh.  There’s a defiant set to his smirk, and the careful confidence in his expression is betrayed by the slight trembling of his fingers clenched around the Cosmo.

Their parents are engaged, that’s all.  And it’s not something he’s ever told anyone... but he also thinks it’s maybe the sort of thing that one tells one’s siblings.

“So you do agree with me and Cassie about Jeremy Jason McCole!” Rachel says triumphantly.

Marco gags so hard he risks straining his own throat muscles.  “I have taste!  You, clearly, have none.”

If Jordan still has any romantic interest in Marco at all even after the you’re going to be step-siblings news broke, it disappears the instant that Naomi announces Jordan and Sara are going to be sharing a room from now on, because Marco and Peter are moving in with them.  A week later, Jake’s mother has a stern conversation with him about the extent to which he’s been running up their phone bill.  He grumbles that he didn’t ask to be everyone’s agony aunt, but that doesn’t get him out of being grounded.

Marco teases Rachel endlessly when he figures out why she leaves her window open every night, even — especially — when it’s cold or rainy outside.  But he also helps cover for her and Tobias without being asked, and one night in gorilla morph he deforms the oak tree out in the back yard so that a sheltered branch rests directly underneath her windowsill.

Rachel stops in the door of Marco’s room the day after the confrontation with Visser One outside the fake hork-bajir valley.  She doesn’t bother to knock.  He didn’t bother to shut the door.

Marco’s sitting in the narrow space between his bed and the wall, staring at the blank blue paint in front of his face.  His knees are drawn up to his chest, his hands limp at his sides.

“They didn’t find a body,” Rachel says, blunt as ever, standing over him.  “I know that’s not good news or anything.  But I also figured you had a right to know.  There’s no sign of Vis—  Of her body.”

Marco squeezes his eyes shut, hard, but still can’t stop the tears.  “Shit.”  He lets his head fall back against the bedspread.  “Shit.”

Hesitating only a second, Rachel scoots in next to him.  She doesn’t try for a hug or anything stupid like that, but she sits shoulder-to-shoulder with him.  She’s the kind of person given to stillness, but she stays put as he struggles to breathe and swipes his sleeve across his face time and time again.

“It’s never going to end, is it,” Marco says at last, when he’s got enough air for words.

Rachel shrugs.  “I’m the wrong person to ask.”

“Shit,” he whispers again.  “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You wanna play Sega?” she asks.  “Not think for a while?”

Marco shakes his head violently.  “I just need some space, okay?”

“Sure.”  She stands.  “I’ll tell my mom not to expect you for dinner.”

Their parents are downstairs cooking.  Laughing.  Arguing companionably over one of Naomi’s cases.  Every clink of dishes, every fond word, feels like a spike driven under Rachel’s fingernails right now.  And if that’s how she feels...

“Anyway, I know you think I’m a crazy psycho killer, but for what it’s worth I think you made the right call.”  She says it sharply, standing to go.  Marco doesn’t respond, not that she expected him to, and she yanks his door shut when she goes.

Peter doesn’t try to be Rachel’s dad.  But he helps her with homework and shows up to her gymnastics meets and acts more excited than she is when she aces a history test.  He asks her what she wants to study in college, not whether she’s going or how they’re expected to pay for it.  He doesn’t try, and he does pretty well anyway.

The Animorphs meet in Rachel’s room almost as often as they do in Cassie’s barn.  It’s more centrally located, even if it doesn’t have nearly the selection of morphs right at hand.  Jake and Cassie both have preexisting excuses for showing up several times a week, and Tobias and Ax never bother using the front door anyway.  Marco’s also taken the time to confirm that no one in the house is a controller, so it saves everyone a little peace of mind.

Rachel wakes up screaming in the middle of the night.  No, that’s not it; she’s screaming in her sleep, and then Marco snaps the light on and wakes her.  He sets a glass of water on her nightstand.  Tilts the alarm clock so she can see the time.  Pokes her in the arm to remind her that she’s human, at least for now.  When it becomes obvious that she’s not going to talk about it, he turns and leaves without ever saying a word.

“I need you,” Marco says into the phone, middle of the night, apparently apropos of nothing.  “They took my dad.”  He gives the address, and then he hangs up.

He and Rachel have come to a decision, without discussion, without niceties like consulting Jake, by the time they’re done fighting off the half-dozen controllers who were dragging Peter toward the portable yeerk pool.  Rachel demorphs as Peter watches.  Marco goes through the explanation the first time, then the second.

Midway through the third round of attempts to convince Peter he’s not crazy, Rachel gives up.  She herds both Peter and Marco into the backseat, and drives back to the house.  “Pack for a long trip,” she tells them both, and goes upstairs to tell her mom.

Maybe, Jake concludes, exhausted just at the thought, they could’ve kept going if it was just his parents, or just Cassie’s.  But Rachel and Marco can’t both disappear without rousing too much suspicion, and getting rid of just one of them will put the yeerks on the tail of the other.  “I guess it’s time,” he says.  “Better get ready to tell our own parents, then.”

By the end of that day, Rachel’s and Marco’s blended family is in the hork-bajir valley.  By the time two days have passed, Jake’s and Cassie’s families are there too, even if Tom is currently secured with about a half-mile of duct tape and will need to be babysat by several hork-bajir for the next three days.  A week after that, Tobias shows up with Loren in tow.  One hellish mission later, and Visser One is dead, but her host is rapidly recovering.

Naomi and Eva circle each other like a pair of housecats thrust into the same room, at first.  They’re prim and aloof and wary, unable to know what to make of each other.  Peter helps exactly nothing by retreating from the conflict entirely, busying himself with an elaborate irrigation project the hork-bajir don’t actually need his help with.  But he can’t escape them forever.

One night, all three of them get roaring drunk on some kind of regrettable fermented-bark thing, and finally have it out.  Peter makes a passionate speech or two about his love for them both before retreating into morose silence.  Naomi’s sixth drink ends in her making an elaborate attempt to draw up a timeshare contract over who will keep Peter on which night.

Eva slams a hand down on the table, and they both fall silent.  She won’t share, she announces quietly, and she won’t be with a man who cannot choose.  She’ll find her own way.

Her own way, as it turns out, is even worse than Marco could have possibly imagined.

“Why?” Marco cries, flopping on the ground in the middle of the next Animorphs’ meeting.  “Why, why, why does this keep happening to me?”

“Pretty sure we’ve been over this before, back when it was your dad, and concluded it’s not about you,” Jake says.  “Anyway, the yeerks —”

“No!”  Marco sits up.  “We have more important things to talk about than yeerks.  Tobias, back me up on this!”

«Uh, yeah.»  Tobias looks over at Rachel.  «By the way, all those times you talked about how weird it was when your mom started dating again... Sorry for not being more sympathetic.  Now that I’m in your shoes...  It’s really weird.»

Rachel sniffs.  “You only met your mom like a month ago.  It’s still worse for me.”

“And it’s worst of all for me!”  Marco has flopped back over.  He emits a noise something like a wookiee being murdered.  “Please someone acknowledge that it’s worst of all for me!”

Cassie pats him on the back of the head.  “It’s worst of all for you,” she says.

“Thanks,” he says into the grass.

“Okay!”  Jake throws up his hands.  “Marco’s mom and Tobias’s mom have a thing going.  Now do we have it out of our systems?”

«Personally, I think Loren and Eva are most compatible,» Ax says.

«Nobody asked you,» Tobias snarks.  «And Jake, just imagine for a second if it was your mom who was macking on—»

“Nope!” Rachel says loudly.  “Nobody is thinking about anyone’s mom and anyone else’s mom.  Or dad.  We are ignoring it, we are pretending it’s not happening, we are carrying on as Marco and I have been for over a year now, we are killing yeerks.”

“Yeah, like I was saying.”  Jake rolls his eyes.  “There are aliens invading the planet, remember?”

“The horror,” Marco mumbles, still facedown in the grass.  “The horror!”

Cassie gives him another sympathetic pat on the back of the head.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The Pink Pearl

Kanene’s Notes:

Soooo... I needed to improve my action scenes. And then this fanfic was born! :D)/ 

It has pirates and ghosts and pirate ghosts! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic was a bit inspired on that fabulous video  right here.

* Contains: Angst, Cursing, Hypnosis, Implied death, Clear description of bein hypnotized, clear description of a ship burning to the ground, Hur/Comfort, Mild Comfort, Mystical beings, Magic, Happy ending, Hopeful Ending.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to Thomas Sanders.

* Something around 3.500 words. -w-)b.

* You can also find this fic on AO3.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading! Eat a snack, rest, watch that favorite movie you have been wanting to see again, take care and drink water! Byeioo!~

                        [~*~]

“I need help.” He tried to not grimace with how the words dried even further his hurt throat as they left his lips, shivering when a sudden breeze from night’s cold froze the sweat on his skin. Remy - at least that was what he said his name was, but trusting in a pirate word could lead you to not so pleasant storms - snorted, moving his cuffs and pressing their backs closer.

 “Yeah, no shit.” His voice was raspy, tired, and not for the first time Emile wondered for how long he had been there, since his presence was already a constant when the amateur sailor’s boat had been plundered and he got captured, thrown on the darkest part of the ship and finding his company.

 “That makes two of us.” The last part came out as a bitter whisper.

 A peaceful wave hit the hull, making the ship stumble and rock under the moonlight that gazed pieces of their skin through a few cracks in the highest woods.

 “No. I mean, yes, but…” Emile sighed deeply, tired awareness washing over him as the sailor realized the full extent of his next words. He rested his head on Remy’s shoulder, a move which led the other to untense his muscles and be more open to conversations.

 They didn’t have much more time before the moon hit its highest spot in the sky and Emile wasn’t sure if they would make it to another full moon. Remy could only distract the crew so much. “I need your golden necklace.”

 The other stiffed, breath hitching, stiff pose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 “Yes, you do.” Calm voice, free of any accusation, his brown eyes stared at the ‘ceiling’ picturing stars and constellations and the unstable clouds and how it feels when the salty breeze hit his skin freely. “I know it’s probably an important possession for you given how long you’ve been hiding it, and I’m really sorry I am asking for it but we really need a good offering.”

 “Are you going to beg Neptune to save us?” Sound of fabric being ripped, the metal’s clicking making itself known. “He has islands and ships of gold being given to him right now, goldenfish. This may be a preciosity, but isn’t that worth it.” 

 Goldenfish: Breakable; Pirates who didn’t experience the true nightmares of surviving in the ocean; Naive; Fragile;

 “If I’m going to go in a shit way, at least let a captain die with the last of his treasures.” His voice choked in the middle of the sentence, but both pretended to not notice it.

 Emile felt dread fill his stomach, tightly closing his eyes as tears pricked their corners. Their captors never held their tongue, always discussing all their possibilities to get rid of their prisoners during parties and meetings on the main deck, voices loud enough to be heard by them both. Besides, the sailor was sure the crew wouldn’t stop themselves from making morbid remarks whenever Remy was called to ‘amuse’ them, even though the other refused to say anything to him when he was back, playing it off with some sarcastic sentences and ironic expressions.

 (Emile attempted to be interesting one time, trying to pry their attention from Remy at all costs. His light-hearted efforts and humored puns were rewarded with nasty bruises and more chores to deal with. There were no sarcastic phrases that day.)

 Still… It was the first time they talked about it out loud. Ignoring their eventful end made things more forgettable, easier to look away. But, now Emile was sure he wasn’t the only one sensing the impatience clouding and suffocating the air around them as the days went by.

 Emile wished they had more time. “We’re not going to die and I’m not going to pray to Neptune. Not today.” Remy scoffed, yet listening. “I have a pink pearl with me, it can…” His sentence trailed off, his tired mind trying to find an easy way to explain his family situation. “Some spirits own me a favor.” 

 Emile had seen Remy’s eyes when he was dragged, barely conscious, to his prison for the first time. They were black and deep like the bottom of the Ocean, full of untold beauties and unseen mysteries. He could almost feel their glare on him.

 “Do your spirits happen to be friends with the sea nymphs? The Thunder Damsels? Because that is the only fucking way we’re getting out of this.”

 “They can help.” Emile stayed firm, trying to buckle their conversation out the way it was heading.

 “Because…?”

 “Remy, we don’t have much more time, please, give me the necklace.”

 “Oh, of course, I am sorry for trying to know who my last possession is going to. What a bitch, am I right? Wait! Thinking better about it, why don’t we go up there and ask for the crew to help us? They’re full of gold, too!” He hissed. Because he couldn’t even shout out his irritation. Because it has been days since he last slept due his haunting nightmares, but the possibility of this being a dream freezes his blood and tights his throat. Because Emile’s hope was beginning to make its way to his soul and he knew how dangerous that could be.

 “Ghosts, ok?! They are ghosts!”

 Remy stared the wall in disbelief, seconds passing by. Emile closed his eyes.

 “My stars, are you trusting our lives to haunting ghosts?” He barked a laugh, despair and astonishment dripping from his words. 

 But Emile didn’t laugh, seeming to shrink behind him.

 So, Remy stopped, convincing himself that it was because of the coughing fit that hit him, molesting his dry throat, and not the soft heart he so fiercely denied to have.

 Someone dropped a cup on the upper floor, curses immediately following suit. The sound made them both jump a few inches in the air, unable to stop the squirming, the shivering. The other’s whisper cut the silence.

 “If you can’t trust me now, I don’t know when you will.”

 Remy sighs, pressing their backs closer and lightly elbowing his ribs. 

 “Drop the pout, starfish.” As he got up, his chained hands maneuvered to grab his necklace from the hidden pocket on his boot, dropping it on the cold floor and carefully pushing it in Emile’s direction. “If this doesn’t work, I’m getting you back later.”

 “Thank you.” The sailor’s smile only increased as Remy scoffed. Although, he didn’t have too much time to rest in the warm feeling blooming on his chest, quickly getting the pearl from his own hidden place. He gathered the two objects on his hands before sitting in front of a small hole he opened on the lower part of their cell, a glimpse of the ocean shining behind it. 

 Deep breaths. Ok. He could do this.

 The well known chant sea flew from his mouth. It sounded like sunny afternoons and picnics, and nights embraced on the dimming dark, and soft hugs, and loud laughter with the feeling of freedom and dances around a wooden, crowned table. It was melodious, it was memories and his last shout of hope. His energy, his gratitude, his fear, his last chance, his last treasure, everything was offered.

 The objects fell from his palms and were engulfed by the deep, incessant waves. 

 For a moment nothing happened and Remy regretted all his life choices, a not new habit of his, however at least this time he had a different reason, especially as Emile continued the tunes of that old song, apparently unfazed by the clear failure of his attempt.

 Then Remy realized.

 Besides his voice there was…quiet.

 A life dedicated to explore and navigate the seven seas could be a lot of things. I could be dangerous, it could be difficult, lonely, adventurous, memorable, exhausting and even boring. But never quiet. There was always something. Always the melody of the waves carrying your ship, the wind slapping the sails, the mermaids whispering in your ears, a curse daunting your dreams… Silence could be present, but not for long and never as absolute.

 But now…?

 Now everything was quiet.

 And that made a run shiver run across his spine, muscles tenses, instincts shouting. “Emile?”

 The sailor didn’t respond, didn’t even stir as the temperature turned unbearably colder.

 “Emile,” His dark eyes widened as his breath became visible in the air. “Emile, stop singing!”

 “I already did.” He whispered, his stranger soft voice muffled, with something missing.

 The ex captain noticed the truth behind his words as he concentrated. His senses could notice the melody coming from nowhere specific, echoing on the walls in a steady, patient pace. 

 A soft high pitched giggle cut the song. And, no, Remy did not shriek. Shut up.

 “They’re here.” Emile’s voice was filled with something he couldn’t quite place, nor did have time as, in the middle of the room, a silhouette started to form, trembling and bending the light around it.

 [...]

 Aaron didn’t believe a lot of things, which, in itself, doesn’t mean that the amount of things he did believe was in any way whimsy. 

 Actually, he considered himself a very rational, plain figure. He believed in what he saw, touched and experienced. That is why he was on the nocturn security duty. His mind wasn’t easily fooled and his instincts were something he had plenty of capacity to control. 

 He prided himself on the moments of dinner and drinking, the hours of dawn when the crew would be a tad too drunk, playing and saying that, if any day Aaron stumbled on the feathered singer - because even on the fog of the rum, they knew best than say the name of the creatures out loud and pull bad luck onto their travel - he would be controlled enough to laugh at them, spit some curses and them navigate away while appreciating their nice melody in the background.

 That was the memory which clawed on him as the mist involved the masts, swirling in a calm manner to the wooden floor, a whispering beginning to take over his eardrums. It was a song that made his bones ache and muscles tremble. He closed his hands on fists, nails tearing the epidermis to stay firm. 

 Even when a not-quite red, not-quite translucid figure appeared four feet away from him. Sitting in front a mesmerizing pitfire, carefully rocking the silver liquid in the golden chalice held firmly by his fingers, his lips parted, the chant pouring from them.

 And the fire? The fire danced under his control, at each musical note it contorted and expanded, inch by inch, flame by flame. It got higher, vivid, swirling wound the translucid form who extended his hand and let the element run freely across his palm, petting it as if it was a domesticate, harmless animal.

 The calm melody hit its climax, the high, vibrant note was prolonged, taking over the air, stealing all the attention and all the oxygen from the viewer.

 He got up and the flames continued to travel from his hands through his body, burning his clothes which dissolved in brilliant ashes and left behind a gleaming trail of a completely new vestment being formed.

 Under Aaron’s – mesmerized – attentive gaze long crimson sleeves involved his arms, crawling across his shoulders and leading the way to his chest, a warm white fabric shining under the moonlight, the fervent grooves that cut it in the form of limpid waves flowed through the petticoat from the gorgeous dress from the figure that couldn’t be named as translucid, anymore.

 The song stopped.

 The flames, much higher, much larger, raised like curtains behind the mysterious being, and his scarlet screaming eyes focused on Aaron, stealing his oxygen, again, and demanding – commanding him to show - every slight drop of his attention. His lips parted, one more time.

 The song was back.

 And he began to dance.

 The fire accompanied the synchronized movements of his arms, also performing its own dance on the ship, spreading across the floor on the rhythm of his footsteps, sliding from the vestment’s veils and taking over all the space, climbing the ratlines, burning the masts, consuming the emergency boars and dancing together with the red figure and his frenetic melody, which overflowed and inundated everything around, attacking and drowning Aaron, who didn’t allowed his glare to deviated from the moves before him for one single second, all the others things being forgotten.

 Beautiful. Everything was beautiful.

 “And wouldn’t it be even more if you could dance with him?” A velvety voice – that wasn’t his – whispered on his mind in golden shades.

 “Yes…” Aaron answered, hoarse. When did his throat get so dried like this? Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Why wasn't the oxygen coming back?

 “Then go.” The gold thought was fast in cutting his line of thinking, leading him to focus one more time on the figure in front of him. “He will love to guide you through the steps.”

 And Aaron agreed quickly, wondering how the other’s hands would feel under his touch. If they would be cold for his previous translucent state or hot just as the fire that accompanied him. He questioned himself if the flames would follow his pace, dancing with him, as well. He wanted. He wanted to be so beautiful like this. Maybe if he controlled the fire, maybe if he showed himself so skilled like this the being before him, he would be the one mesmerized. He would be the one to bow and to ask him for a dance.

 He got closer and closer from the fire, extending his hand, about to pet it.

 Perhaps…

 A splitting pain spread like an explosion through the length of his arm and Aaron moved away with a scream, tears falling from his eyes with the painfully beat of his burned hand capturing all his senses, the song and dance disappearing from his mind.

 And suddenly the frightened screams filled his eardrums. Sounds of pleas for help, of kicks and punches and wood crackling smacking him in an only one hit that destabilize the pirate, leaving him coughing and gasping and loud, so LOUD-

 His eyes widened. Hot. Hot. Everything was burning. He was burning.

 He wanted to scream. His throat was dry, but he needed to scream, needed to warn everyone, needed to-

 “Rest.” The calm, velvety voice came back to his mind, offering peace, a safe space to where he could flee.

 (An illusion made especially for him.)

 However, he couldn’t. Everything was hot and burning and it shouldn’t be like that. He knew it shouldn’t be like that. This wasn’t normal. Wasn’t good. Screams.  He also needed to scream. Because he was hot and the ship was hot and he was-

 “-With a fever. You’re burning from sickness. Just a small fever isn’t something worth waking and alerting the others, right? You’re so clever, so strong, you sure can manage to ignore such futile, delirious dream alone. Maybe the rest of the crew wouldn’t be able to, but you’re braver. No one can ever fool you.”

 Yes. This was true. He was intelligent, reasonable. That is why they always choose him to be on the night duty, because no one could do a better job than him.

 A very known song begins to ask for his attention, one more time.

 He can do it. He knows how to take care of the danger, so-

 “-so there is no reason to worry, because there isn’t any danger here. It’s just a dream. A beautiful dream.”

 His eyes rise and meet again with the dancer. Beautiful. So beautiful.

 “Yes. That is true. Then why don’t you just relax and enjoy your wonderful, special dream?” The yellowish, velvet aura involves his body and suddenly the hotness stops to bother him, just like the ship dismantling in flames and the screams of help of the pirates locked on their rooms, terrified by the illusions taking form and life in the middle of the darkness.

The red eyes, for a second, focused on something behind Aaron, smiling, before finally sticking on his, the smile still on his expression as his hand went in his direction and rested on his forehead, a melodious tune following his acts.

 “Sleep and dance on your dreams.”

 And then everything disappeared in soot and ebano.

 [...]

 “Oh my stars!! Martin! It’s been so long!” Émile controlled himself to not laugh at Remy’s astonished expression – even if the shorter tried to hide it in a nonchalant behavior, - which proved itself to be simpler when the sky-blue ghost dashed until they were face to face, squeezing his cheeks and alternating between smiling at him and frowning at the number of old and new bruises that covered his skin. “You’re so tall now!! You kiddos grow up so fast!! Do these hurt? No worries! Roman, Remus and Janus are taking care of everything so we will be able to properly take care of you and your friend in a bit, okay? It’s been so much time since they saw you! I bet they also can’t wait to hear all the news!”

 Picani stared deep into that shiny gaze, couldn’t help himself but smile back at Patton, a faint, almost erased memory of the blue figure helping him and his grandpa to make cookies in one of the docks they used to visit, they all whistling happily the known melody shining on the back of his mind. The memory was blurred, mostly consisting in laughter, songs and a warm feeling.

 “Pat,” he gulped, mindless playing with the chains that locked his wrists on the walls of the cell, a frown in his face. Patton lightly hit the side of his own head, dislodging a bit his glasses’ frame, letting go of his face and heading to the keys poorly hanging on a rusty nail on the other side of the room.

 (A constant reminder from the others of the freedom they could achieve if they only would be able to research the keys…)

 “That is right, that is right!” He carried a happy aura on his steps, floating to them in a fast pace, unlocking their cell, kindly glancing at him and Remy, who eyed him for a few seconds before having his attention claimed by smoke descending from the cracks on their ceiling. “We should probably be heading out here just now!”

 “Pat,” Emile tried again, holding his hand when the ghost freed him, ignoring the goosebumps running across his arms in a protest about the coldness of the other’s skin. His tune was careful. “I am Emile. Emile Picani. My dad gave me the pearl.” Patton’s smile faltered, a glint of understanding and something else taking over the gleam on his eyes. “It’s been twenty three years.”

 “Oh,” he muttered, squeezing his hands back, eyes looking for something in his gaze. Something Emile couldn’t quite place. “oh, kiddo… I am sorry.”

 Emile gave him a kind, sad smile.

 “Me too.”

 “You really grew up fast, didn’t you, kiddo?” Remy deviated his eyes from the scene, partly because the feeling of twist on his guts meant that he was probably intruding on a private moment and partly because his attention was again held by the sudden, growing hotness which didn’t cease to expand across the entirety of the ship. Muffled screams coming from all the places and nowhere at the same time. His body started to get absurdly antsy with adrenaline, sweat dripping from his forehead.

 A flaming part of the ceiling fell in the middle of their cell, jolting the two from their conversation, the blue ghost blinking a few times at the flames.

 “Ah.” He speeded his pace to free them from their cell, smoke and soot starting to paint and took over the air. “Well, guess this is our clue to get going!! Come on, come on! This way!”

 “Fucking heck finally.” Remy only didn’t shout his displeasure due how hurt his throat was, however he made it sure his voice wasn’t low enough so the others wouldn’t be able to notice, even though none of them opted to point his reaction, deciding instead to nearly dash through the doors and stairs of the ship until finally arrive at the handrails, ignoring the way flames danced and deviated from them, a red figure smiling brightly at Patton’s direction when he waved, yellow eyes from another golden person staring them as if he could read their souls.

 Remy ignored both as another ship arrived, medium size, well conserved and barely noticeable, his eyes feeling the urge to look at everywhere except it every time he tried to concentrate his efforts to capture all the details, but he kept himself firm, noticing how it doesn’t own any visible treasure, the only thing more catching being the navy fog covering all its extent, flowing in abundance from the form in the main deck, his hands moving with precise, fast gestures.

 A dark purple ghost popped from absolutely nothing in front of them, inquisitive, wary glare.

 Remy narrowed his eyes back, his guts screaming to not trust the wooden board thrown at their current position, making a not very secure path from one ship to another. The purple being smirked at his expression.

 “V! We’re back.”

 “Good. The princey and the snake right there are almost over and Logan is growing restless. Remus is already on his room, resting.” His face lost its softness when he stared right back at the humans. “Get in. Fast.”

 Emile nodded, wanting nothing more than to leave this nightmare and maybe get a good night of sleep, but his arm was held in a warm, firm – yet gentle – grip.

 “Is that bitch even safe?”

 V’s smirk grew. “Define ‘safe’.”

 “Things that I can touch and embark without fucking dying.”

 “Death is inevitable,” the purple – V, as it seems, looked smug with his words, - any choice is just a pathway to this end.”

 “I’m going to fucking show him the pathway.”

 “Remy, please no.” Emile sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 “Think I can’t punch a motherfucker ghost? Fight me.”

 “I know you can’t. Bring it on.”

 “Virgil.”

 “Remy.”

 Patton and Emile said at the same time, with the same hard tone that made both of them deflate in a very similar way, still glaring dangerously at each other, but clearly putting more physical space between them. Emile patted the ex-captain hands, warm eyes.

 “Can you go first so I can hold on your cape? My balance is not very good.” Because he realized, somewhat, how he was trembling and that holding him was the one thing assuring Remy that none of this was just another crazy dream.

 He gulped, then nodded, his usual snarky remark already falling.

 “If I die, no offer will get me out of your back.”

 “Noted.” The sailor replied, chuckling lowly.

 And then they both walked to their first of many future nights, after so many tears and tears, of being able to watch the stars and feel the sea’s breeze.

 Safe.

[mochideleche]

You can’t keep away from fate | CH8

Pairing : Percy jackson x demigod!reader

summary : The daughter of destiny- literally, along with inevitability, compulsion and necessity. Being the child of a primordial goddess doesn’t really assure you a quiet, calm life but when you return to new york after five years of being shipped off to boarding school, your once mundane life says goodbye.

A/N get your feels ready. As always please do comment what you think and any questions, and thank you so much for all the reads and notes, it really does make my day :) Hope you are all keeping safe and I hope you enjoy!

contents page

The next morning you bid your goodbye to percy and annabeth as they set off for the city. It was a bit difficult for you since the last time they parted for the Labyrinth only annabeth had come back. 

“Don’t do anything stupid” You said to percy, hugging him tightly. You didn’t want to let go and you could tell neither did he but time wasn’t exactly on your side. 

“I don’t plan on it” Percy smiled, “I promise i’ll come back alive this time” 

“hahaha”  you replied

You wanted to go with them, you wanted to be there when they needed help. You didn't want anything else to happen to your friends but you were needed back at camp. If luke’s army was able to get through into the camp, you needed to be there to protect it. 

You, Lee and Beckendorf were making your way through the forest towards zeus’ fist to help with reinforcements. 

You stifled a yawn as the three of you walked in comfortable silence. 

“Looks like someone stayed up late last night,” Lee snickered and Beckendorf joined in with his laughing.

“Shut up,” you muttered, considering throwing lee across the forest.

“So has percy finally asked you out yet? Or are we going to have to pretend that you two weren’t totally flirting the minute we found out percy was alive” Beckendorf chuckled and you sent him a scowl.

“I’m joking,” beckendorf chuckled putting up his hands in defence, “although we are pretty used to you two flirting by now” he added and Lee broke put into uncontrollable laughter. 

You knew people teased you about percy but not to this extent. 

“He’s got too many things on his mind right now, ” you stated, your voice tight as you remembered the hard look on percy’s face as he talked about his foreseeable fight with kronos. 

“True, life as a demigod is never easy but you can’t let that get in the way of living how you want” Lee said, lifting his nose up high.

“And where’d you get that one from mr philosopher” Beckendorf chuckled

“As a son of apollo I was going more for mr poet” Lee shrugged, “and if you must know i got it out if this miraculous thing” and he tapped the top of his head.

‘Miraculous alright, i thought you didn’t have one” you snickered and the three of you burst out laughing. 

the trees finally began to thin out and you entered the clearing where zeus’ fist was. The catapult was ready, stocked with newly delivered greek fire and the athena cabin had set up a command tent towards the left. 

You were preparing for war. 

The feeling made you nervous, it was the same feeling as stage fright- wobbly legs, hot flushes and an erratic heart if you thought about it too much. 

You’d fought monsters before, but not a battle. 

...

Percy didn’t want to leave camp but he had a titan army to thwart. just seeing you cry your heart out , it had made him want to cry- and that was saying a lot. And he was a bit guilty to say that it had also made him feel a little bit happy, seeing how much you had missed him. He got angry at himself for causing you so much pain, you didn’t deserve that. 

In the labyrinth he often felt like giving up; feeling the walls close in and feeling that he was no match for immortal monsters who would just regenerate once he killed them. 

But then he’d remember you, and that would cause him to think of all the other things worth living for. 

On the island of ogygia he was conflicted. 

Sure, when he first laid eyes on calypso he thought she was beautiful, but there was just too many similarities; her almond shape eyes, the way her hair flowed down her back and the kind look in her soft gaze reminded percy too much of you. 

In a way you were like a goddess to him, too perfect to be true. Sometimes he wondered if the gods had made a mistake and you actually were born immortal.

He’d lived every day in ogygia with you on his mind, i need to get back to Y/N. 

It was like you were his link to his life back in new york, you were his embodiment of home.

He felt torn between leaving calypso on her own and returning to fight luke but there was no debating when it came to you. 

So when he saw how quiet you became when he mentioned getting marooned on an island, he started to panic. He thought he’d blew it and you would never see him in the same light again. 

how did you even see him anyway? 

He liked how you blushed every time he called you princess, how you tried to hide the smile on your face every time he did something stupid and how you covered you laugh every time he said something sarcastic. 

You were always such a bright light shining in his life and seeing you so sad made percy’s heart break. 

I made her upset, percy thought. 

He cared a lot for you and made a promise to himself, if he’d survive the titan war, he’d tell you how he felt. he didn’t want to cause you any harm so he wanted to wait- see if he actually survived. 

Annabeth turned to percy as if she wanted to say something, then noticed the slight frown on his face and faced her own window on her left side. 

“Will told me how Y/N kept hunting down monsters when we were gone” she started, “he said everyday she’d always be called out of camp to help the cabin who was on scouting duty and when she wasn’t, she was in the forges with beckendorf reinforcing our armoury”  

Percy just blinked, the conversation seemed so out of the blue but he had a dreaded feeling he knew where it was going, “uhm- yeah, she’s a hardworker”

“And when you disappeared, she went over time. She was gone before dawn and only came back after dinner. She came back everyday covered in blood and monster dust- exhausted and almost unconscious. ”

Percy looked over at annabeth and she had her fists clenched, “Annabeth look i’m sorry i didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t mean to!” Annabeth exclaimed, and snapped her head towards percy, giving him a look that could have sent him to tartarus and back five times. percy couldn’t help but back away from her. 

He quickly averted his gaze to the divider where he could see argus looking at them through the rear view mirror with some of his many eyes ( the rest on the road ) but as soon as they made eye contact he shut the divider close. 

Thanks for the moral support, Percy thought. 

“But do you know how much pain you put her in? First you let some mortal girl write her number on you arm, then you die, then you come back from the dead only to say you’ve been having a little vacation with a goddess who is made to fall in love with you and then you go off again only to go running to rachel! ” Annabeth was breathing hard, she seemed really angry.

This only made percy angry too- but he couldn’t help but be slightly confused. 

All this time percy thought annabeth had a crush on him, that’s why she was so worked up over rachel and why she had stormed out when he had said he was marooned on an island. He even thought that annabeth was jealous of Y/N and would treat her coldly, but that was the one thing he didn’t get- the two of them were best friends. 

Now he started to think that it wasn’t percy she had a crush on. 

“Why are you so worked up about this?” Percy asked, his voice rising. he didn’t mean to try and pry on what annabeth was really feeling, but he couldn’t help but attack her back, she was shaming him just like Mr d did and he wasn’t going to let that slide.

Annabeth clenched her jaw and percy thought she was going to explode, “You’re such a seaweed brain!” She shouted, “I see the way you look at her, the stupid way you smile when she’s around and how you try to do even stupider things to get her attention. So why haven’t you told her how you feel?”

Percy opened his mouth to snap something back, but he found no words.

“The second you come back you start flirting with her then you run off again without saying anything! I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours but if you think for a second that you can play with her heart-” 

Percy felt the heat rising up his chest, “I’m not playing with her!” he shouted.

“Then why do you keep her in the dark!” Annabeth shouted back at the same level percy had and percy froze. There were many reasons why he had held back from telling you how he felt, but he’d never really voiced them out. It made sense it his head and it felt right but now if he needed to explain his reasons to annabeth, he wasn’t so sure. 

But then he remembered the promise he had made to himself, how after they’d finished this- if he survived at all, he would tell you how he felt. but he wanted to keep that to himself, his little secret. 

“Just tell her how you feel damn it!” Annabeth exclaimed, snapping percy out of his inner debate.

And just when percy thought annabeth was going to bite his head off, her shoulders suddenly untensed and she slumped in her seat, tearing her piercing gaze away from percy, “she’s already been in so much pain and she doesn’t deserve to go through any more” 

Percy looked at annabeth, normally after a fight she would keep her guard up for days, but she’d deflated so fast that percy forgot about his anger and worried for his friend. 

“I’ve tried my best to stir her away from you- say that you’re just trouble”

“Thanks” percy scoffed, his anger coming back but he pushed it aside so that he could hear annabeth explain. 

“but i’ve been friends with you for so long now and i know how good hearted you are and how loyal you are to those you care about” annabeth said quietly and she turned to face out the window.

Percy couldn’t help but feel some sort of pride, annabeth rarely complimented him.

“But i swear” she said, a little tightness creeping back into her voice,  “if you break her heart, i won’t hesitate to run my knife through you once all this titan crap if over, you understand?” she said, looking at percy with a hard look.

Percy couldn’t help but smile, annabeth had just given her blessing for percy to ask you out, “yes ma’am”

A ghost of a smile appeared on ananbeth’s face, “you’re such a seaweed brain”

....

Percy and his friends landed just in the middle of the cabins. They saw the battle raging on beneath them and percy dreaded to see it. 

They were out numbered by a lot. There were dracnae, empousa, telkhines, hell hounds and even Kampe- percy had wished they’d seen the last of her. 

Percy rushed forward and jumped straight into battle. 

Even after his fight with Antaeus percy still felt like he could run miles- a perk from being adhd. He slashed, striked and stabbed every time he turned, taking down monster by monster. 

But as he took down another telkhine, he saw a group of dracnae breaking off from the battle and slithering towards the cabins.

“Nico!” percy yelled as the younger boy stabbed another telkhine with his stygian iron sword. 

Nico immediately understood and held out his sword, “serve me”

The ground began to shake and a fissure broke open in front of the dracnae. About a dozen skeleton soldiers, wearing a variety of military uniforms emerged from the ground. One of them shot up, stabbed a dracnae and pounced after another. Nico fell to his knees. 

But before percy could go over and help him, he was knocked to the side by a huge black mass. 

As he tumbled he got a mouth full of fur and as he hit the ground hard, he caught a glimpse of two red eyes and mouth filled with razor sharp fangs, wide open and ready to bite.

Percy’s sword arm was squashed under the hell hounds great paw, he couldn't move- this is it, he thought. 

Then something whooshed past his ear, stabbing the ground next to him and the hound exploded into a cloud of black soot. 

Percy tuned away to shield his eyes from the dust and saw the blood covered, drakon bone sword buried in the ground next to his head. 

He sat up and saw you about twenty feet away, knees bent and arm still up from your throw, mouth slightly parted and a hard look on your face.

gods that was hot. 

Then you suddenly straightened up and scowled at percy, “Get up you idiot!” and you rushed back into the battle- taking down a laistrygonian giant whilst you were at it. 

Percy smiled, i love her. 

But percy didn’t have time to dwell over how pretty you looked killing that empousa or how badass you were when you kicked that demigod in the gut, Kampe was causing a riot and had just crushed the command tent, he needed to take care of that. 

He rushed forward, somehow finding annabeth along the way, “This might be it” percy said, half joking but there was a lot of truth to the statement.

“It was nice fighting with you” annabeth said.

“Ditto” 

And they charged. 

Kampe didn’t seem to see them as a threat, if she did, she didn’t show it. 

Percy and annabeth worked like a team, one distracting her whilst the other aimed for a strike- but kampe just seemed to be able to fight independently with both hands, her animal bearing waist snapping at their hands if they swung too close. 

Then as soon as percy saw an opening, he lunged only to be faced with a snarling face and amused eyes. 

And he was suddenly knocked back and his back hit the ground a second time but he fought to stand up again but it looked like he didn’t need to.

Kampe was preoccupied with someone else. 

“What’s a tiny little girl like you going to do?” she hissed, her clawed hands flexing around her bronze swords. 

In front of her, the only thing keeping her from charging at percy and annabeth, stood you. You too held both your swords at your sides but you stood calm and collected, shoulders relaxed and feet shoulder width apart. 

“I am the daughter of ananke, goddess of destiny- you shall fear me” 

Percy couldn’t see your face but he imagined it was just as pretty as you sent Kampe a death stare. 

But you stood still and did nothing, percy was worried that kampe would charge right at you and run her swords through you but she stood as still as you. It was like the two of you were having some show down until percy noticed the look of horror on kampe’s face. 

He mouth was opened like it was stuck in a scream and her hands dropped her swords and came up to grab her throat. 

Then she exploded in a fine cloud of yellow dust. 

You turned, face full of concern, towards percy and annabeth who stood shocked behind you, but you weren’t looking at them but behind them.

They’d both been so shocked at your “you shall fear me” comment that they became completely unaware of the laistrygonian giant behind them. 

Percy heard you scream, “run!” but his feet didn’t listen. But they didn’t need to. 

A black mass jumped in front of them and knocked the giant aside. 

“Good girl!” Dedalus exclaimed, running past and nodding towards percy. 

Then behind him came the hundred handed giant Briares screaming as he charged along side Mrs O’Leary.

Percy couldn’t help but smile, until he felt a punch on his shoulder. 

“I thought I told you not to do anything stupid!” You exclaimed, “That’s twice i’ve saved your life now-”

Percy kissed you on the cheek. 

You blinked, “okay maybe i’ll let this one slide,” and you turned around and began to walk away slowly, effortlessly swinging your sword out to cut a dracnae in half along the way. 

Annabeth nudged percy, he though she was going to swing her sword through him too but she had a sly smile on her face. 

Suddenly a horrible sound resonated through the air. 

All around him monsters began to drop their weapons and in the midst of looking around him dumbfounded, percy caught a glimpse of grover- his mouth wide open, releasing that horrible sound. 

The army began to fall back, scrambling towards the mound of rocks, but you weren’t going to let them get away that easily. 

As they narrowed down to fit through the fissure- pushing each other back to escape, you lifted up you hands and thrust them forwards.

The ground beneath began to rise, then shift in shape, almost like hands coming up from the earth. Then, the mounds of dirt came up and swallowed the last of the retreating army into the ground. 

If the camp wasn’t shocked before, they were now. 

You let your hands drop, and percy stood in shock at your back. Your long hair flowing down your back, being gently waved in the soft breeze. He noticed a rip in the back of your jeans but other than that there was no injury. 

then you began to fall to the ground. 

And percy rushed forward, arms out ready to catch you. 

...

You and percy sat next to each other by the court. you wouldn’t normally find yourselves sitting there but you just wanted to get away from all the dread that was left on the battle field. 

You sat quietly, trying to take in the loss of Lee, you hadn’t known him for long, but the fact that just hours ago you guys were laughing and joking made it sting even more. 

Percy too sat next to you, carrying the same guilt you had, that you could’ve done more, could’ve been there to save them. 

But in times like this, you knew you had the clearer head. 

You let your hand rest on percy’s and no other words were needed to be said. 

he looked at you, his eyes roaming your face as if he was looking for something, “not a scratch” he whispered, and you were taken a back. 

you opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out resulting in an intake of breath that sounded like a gasp, although there was nothing surprising about the situation to you. 

you turned your head away as if trying to hide the fact you had left the battle completely fine. 

“i saw you talking to nico” 

You let out a sigh of release, at least he’d changed the subject, “yeah, he’s an interesting boy, and it thought maybe if i was able to talk to him-”

“He’d stop pushing everyone away?” percy asked and you nodded. 

“Look, I know you’re like an angel and everything but don’t beat youself up if nico doesn’t decide to stay, he’s experienced a lot” Percy said, as he put his hands behind his head. 

You remembered your long talk with the son of hades. 

After you had woken up and helped around healing campers (much to will’s distaste as he scolded you to rest), you had immediately gone to find him. He was easy to find, sat alone at the edge of the battle ground, near the fissure he had created. You sat down next to him, introduced yourself and encouraged him to do the same. 

you wanted to know this boy’s story, what made him tick, but from what you heard from others that wasn’t going to be easy. 

He wasn’t willing to at first, turning away and telling you to go and help heal others instead, so you decided that you would tell him your story first.

Surprisingly, he had listened and even more surprisingly, he began to open up. 

“i didn’t remember much before westover hall” he began, fiddling with the silver ring on his finger, “All i had was bianca and so when i found out i was apart of this world of myths like my mythomagic game, well- i thought i had found another thing”

“But then she joined the hunters and i felt so abandoned” a hard look came onto his face and you thought that he was going to stop talking then, but he continued, “I wanted to hate her for leaving me so easily but when she went on the quest i couldn’t help but ask Percy to protect her and she died anyways” 

You swallowed hard, no matter how terrifying this kid may seem, he was still a kid. He had his fists clenched, pushing down on his knees that were brought up to rest just below his chin, his jaw clenched, “Bianca was the only one who accepted me and now she’s gone” 

“Nico,” you began and you fought the urge to place a hand on his shoulder, “I know we barely know each other but there’s a reason why i wanted to talk to you” 

The boy turned to you, his eyebrows raised in suspicion, “oh yeah?”

“Because percy, annabeth, grover, and even Thalia- they had talked about you to me all with the same concern. For someone who isn’t accepted, you sure are cared about” you smiled, seeing how he relaxed his shoulders a bit and turned to look at you. 

“You’ve met Thalia too huh?” Nico asked and you nodded. 

“During the time i went back to europe the hunters had taken a little trip to france and invited me along, I met her there and she asked me to join the hunters” you shrugged, remembering the daughter of zeus with short choppy black hair and startling blue eyes. 

You glanced over at nico who was staring at you with admiration, “you were invited to hunt with them, offered immortality and you said no?” 

You shrugged again “They'd offered me a place before back when i was on olympus, but i declined” 

Nico looked at you with scrunched eyebrows, as if he was trying to see what made you tick. 

“You may think that you don’t belong nico, but the people who care about you say otherwise” and you turned to look at the campers behind you and nico followed your gaze, “everyone here has gone through some terrible things, perhaps some not as much as others but it’s something that not every average mortal goes through. If there’s anyone who would have the least bit of understanding, it would be the people here. Yeah sure they may have their flaws, some may judge, but doesn’t everyone? even gods aren’t immune to prejudice. you need to start seeing these people as your allies, friends, perhaps even family and not as your enemies” 

“And they can’t start seeing how great of a person you are if you keep yourself away” you said slowly, seeing how far the kid would let you push until he exploded and ran away again. 

You saw him unclench and reclench his fists, he was thinking of what to say, maybe thinking how far he could run until you caught him. 

You had to kill the blow of your last statement, make it relatable, “I understand if what i’m saying sounds like complete centaur poop like i said, i haven’t known you for long and we’ve only just met but what i said about those who have known you for long, it’s true, they care about you” 

“they don’t care” nico spat out.

“Oh really? you said, “then why on earth did they insist on saving you then?” 

Nico looked away, “it was a stupid decision”

“Because they care, they want you here in camp half blood” 

You paused for a while, you thought you had blown it because nico straightened his posture as if to stand but he stayed seated, “I- i can’t stay” 

You nodded, “Okay, though i must admit for someone who’s new to this demigod stuff you’re rather diligent and resourceful when it comes to lone wolfing,” you smiled as you saw the boy raise his eyebrows, “and if you ever need a place to come back to, well camp’s always ready to accept you and if you don’t want to stay here,” 

You took a key out of your pocket and held it out to the boy, “i have a flat in brooklyn. I know you may not want my help or my pity and i respect that but it won’t do any good if you’re out there by yourself surviving in the wild. and if you refuse to stay at camp half blood, fine- but please, take the keys, and if you ever need a place to stay, go there” 

The boy looked at the keys in your hand, his eyes wide and mouth open in shock, “I don’t want-”

“Nico, I know i don’t know you, heck, I know you feel like nobody does, but-”

You words got caught in your mouth, you knew saying that you pitied him or felt sorry for him would just push him away even more. 

“There was a lot of people i couldn’t help today,” you said, the words coming out quietly, “And to be quite honest with you i wouldn’t be helping the gods at all if the world wasn’t at stake- they shouldn’t be letting their children take care of their matters” 

If your kind words won’t working then you would have to turn to your bitterness. 

“But i’ve learnt that if you hang onto your regret and hold grudges, you’ll only make things worse for yourself. It may be hard to let go but if you keep pushing yourself away things will only get harder. I get it, you may have not felt accepted in the past and have been through stuff that makes you think you’ll never fit in and i won’t try to pretend that i can completely understand what you’re going through. But i can’t stand to see another person lose themselves to hatred and bitterness, so if i can help you, that’s still something isn’t it?” 

Nico stared at you, his expression confused and interlaced with a slight scowl as if to say, are you being serious? 

“So if you won’t accept my help for yourself, then do it as a favour for me” 

He stared at you, the confused expression melting away along with the slight scowl. His face shifted into look that made him seem dumbfounded and impressed.

He plucked the keys of of your hand gingerly as if he was still deciding wether to take them or not, “what you did on the field, that was some powerful energy you radiated, how come you haven’t disintegrated?”  

You couldn’t help but laugh, “i guess i’m too stubborn to. But i could say the same for you, that raising of the dead trick was very impressive” 

You thought you imagined it, but a little smile appeared on the boy’s face, “thanks” 

“He’ll be okay” you said suddenly and percy turned to you,

“What?” 

“I have a feeling he’s going to be more open now” you said reassuringly with a knowing smile on your face.

“What does that mean?” percy said then his eyes narrowed and looked at you suspiciously, “what did you say to him?” 

You shrugged, “what i said to nico stays between me and nico” 

“Okay, i won’t question it miss ‘you shall fear me’ ”

you punched percy, “shut up”

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry” he said, rubbing his arm where you had hit him, “what did you do to kampe anyways?”

“I squashed her lungs” you said simply, taking both your hands and pressing them together like you were praying to help picture your explanation.

“You- you what?” Percy sputtered and you looked at him, your head tilted.

“You don't get it? Want me to demonstrate?” 

“No no no no- i get it now, a hundred percent” Percy smiled anxiously and waving his hands in front of him. 

You smiled smugly and leaned back against the bench, “idiot” 

“A concerned idiot,” Percy said, his voice now returning to a serious tone “Will told me how you were over doing it with your powers, when you collapsed i was so worried-” 

You put your finger to his lips, “im fine- what you don’t think i can handle a little-”

“Y/N i’m beingg serious” percy said sternly and you lowered your hand.

“Percy, i’m fine, just needs a little getting used to, okay?” You said as sweetly as you could to shake percy off your case, but you were very touched by how much he cared. 

He nodded his head, “If you say so”

“I do say so,” you stated, causing a smile to form on his face. His sea green eyes turning towards you and smiling, 

“Of course, princess” 

...

Normally you could control your dreams. This time you weren’t so lucky. 

You found yourself back in your palace on olympus, with its ivory walls, golden furniture and constant glow as if it had just been scrubbed clean- the generic layout for an olympian house hold. 

You were sitting at the dining room and was surrounded by your nymph maids who were clearing away breakfast. They didn’t say anything but smiled as they continued wiping down the table and taking the plates where your unfinished food sat untouched. 

“You really must eat more” a young nymph who came up beside you. She was young looking, about 19? but she was probably about 100 years old. She had long flowing hair as if there was a breeze pushing it back and freckles dotted her face, crinkling together as she smiled at you.

“I’m not hungry” you said, and you became aware of the concerned faces of the other servant nymphs in the room.

“You need to eat!” the nymph insisted, sending you playful reproachful look, “otherwise you won’t grow!” 

She was true about that part, you had been a little bit on the shorter side with your height as you grew up. 

Suddenly you stood up from the table, pushing back the golden chair you were sitting on, the nymphs face turned into horror as she backed away from you. 

Alll around you the golden haze that seemed to always brighten the room in an eternal golden hour dampened, the room tinged with a sickly green instead. 

You remembered the day quite vaguely and the memory had almost slipped out of your mind. But you did remember how terrified the experience has left you but it happened so long ago that it almost felt like you had read it in a book, like the event hadn’t happed to you.  

You hadn’t dreamed about this once since it had happened. normally you’d dream about reoccurring things and you’d be able to change something distressful into something less frightening but now you could only watch in horror as the scene unfolded. 

The green tinge had turned out to be radiating from you. You looked down only to see a thick mist swirling around you like a snake closing in on your prey. You felt the same as you had on the day it happened - petrified. even though you knew exactly what happened, you still got the same shivers sent down your spine. 

You felt your jaw unhinge and despite wanting to try again to change the course of your dream and trying to keep it shut, it pried open as if you weren’t doing your best to clench your mouth closed.

The same green mist poured out from your mouth, further filling the room with the sickly shade of green.

You mouth was opened but no scream came out instead your vocal chords began moving on their own- at least you thought they did. A voice ringed out through your body, 

“Seven halfblooded shall answer the call, to storm or fire the world must fall” 

You tried to release a cry, but you just began to choke on your own breath- still the voice continued

“an oath to keep with a final breath”

You couldn’t hear much against the pounding of your own heart but you saw clearly the rushing nymphs who tried to aid you but couldn’t seem to penetrate through the mist, satrys who ran out of the room, shouting for help, their faces laced with concern and fright as they glanced back at your body.

You hated to see them like this, servants- no, family who watched you grow up, you took care of you who taught you everything you knew, crying and paralysed with horror as they watched you be possessed by the spirit of the oracle of delphi. 

You continued to choke on air but you weren’t control of your own body anymore.

“And foes bear arms to the doors of death”

Enough.

You snapped awake, sitting up in a cold sweat and breathing hard as if you actually had been choking. 

You brought your hand to your mouth to cover it, shocked with how vivid that dream was. 

How your brain had unlocked that almost forgotten memory, you didn’t know. 

Then you blinked, closing your eyes for just a second, but you couldn’t open them again.

and then you felt yourself being sucked back into your dreams. 

You were again in the olympian palace of your childhood, but this time the golden haze was back and the mist was gone. But that was the least of your problems. 

You played sprawled on the floor, you felt the cool marble against you back and watched as worried faces of nymphs and satrys popped into your view, “Lady Y/N are you okay?” 

“I- I’m-’ you began, still trying to catch your breath, but a voice interrupted.

“No one shall speak of this” the voice stated, calm and collected for someone whose daughter was just possessed. 

The satrys and nymphs disappeared from your view and you were helped into a sitting position. 

Standing in front of you was your mother, she looked angry but a type of anger that spurred on worries. There were deep lines etched between her brows, which made no sense since your mother didn’t look a day over 25. 

She was a tall woman with long dark hair that was let loose to hang around her shoulders. She had an elegant face, pointed chin and high cheekbones which worked together to make her look highly intimidating yet extremely beautiful. Her slim figure was dressed in a loose silk dress that rested around her ankles and against the sunlight shining through the doorway she looked like, well- a goddess. 

But this was ruined by the way she stared at you. Eyes narrowed and looking hard into your soul as if somehow it was your fault you were encapsulated by green mist. 

She walked towards you and you didn’t find the strength to get up. She knelt down beside you, her dress pooling around her like a mini whirlpool of fabric, “are you alright? do you remember what you said?” 

the ‘are you alright?’ made sense, the ‘do you remember what you said?’ absolutely did not. 

You nodded your head, “seven half bloods-”

You mother shook her head, “no need to recite” she said kindly but you could tell that this bothered her. 

It hadn’t occurred to you then how you remembered what you had said, the only thing you were aware about was your own internal screaming. The first time you had actually heard the words clearly was in your dream and yet you still didn’t fully memorise the lines. 

“i’m afraid this is more graver than we thought” your mother began a look of grimace passing over her face. You didn’t know if it was the fact that she no longer was basked in the sunlight but she seemed to age as she scanned your face.

You couldn’t take it, just seeing your mother had made you far too emotional already, but seeing her worried and anxious seemed to just push you to breaking point. 

So you put all your will power into tearing away from that dream, it’s all in my head it’s all in my head.

you forced your eyes open causing your body to finally snap back into reality and grab ahold of itself. 

Your were still sat up in the position you left in, a layer of blankets around and the weak rays of morning sun shining through your curtained window. Sunrise? but you were pretty sure you had gone back into your dream when it was still pitch black in your room but you swear you had only dreamed for only a few minutes. 

shakily, you brought your head up to look at the ceiling. Somewhere, three floors above you was the mummified body of the oracle which held the green mist that had possessed you ten years ago. You were terrified. 

...

Percy thought he deserved a little bit of happiness. But alas, nothing could ever go in his favour. 

Yesterday, at the counsellors meeting they held, the subject about the many demigods luke had recruited came up and that led to very colourful argument between you and percy. 

“I agree, the numbers of demigods were very disturbing” chiron said, resting his elbows on the arms of his wheelchair, “and how luke had gotten his hands on so many, i cannot say” 

“Well we know where he got some of them,“ Michael Yew the newly appointed head counsellor of apollo said under his breath but it was clear that he had wanted everyone to hear. 

Across the table clarisse scowled, “You want to say that a bit louder?” and she made her way to stand up but silena held her down. 

By now word of chris rodriguez’s return had gone around camp. he was a demigod who had joined luke’s army but had been found in the labyrinth driven to insanity and then healed by Dionysus. He was reaccepted back into camp and no one had really objected against the notion- especially since he was clarisse’s boyfriend. 

“moving on,” chiron interjected, looking reproachfully at michael who was now in a stare down with connor and travis stoll, “I believe that luke must be actively seeking recruits, especially those who had not yet been introduced to their demigod lives. Our protecters are doing their best to keep the demigods away from the titan army but that is all they can do lest they are attacked or worse, have their own demigods turned against them”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do?” percy questioned, he remembered ethan nakamura, a demigod he had met in the labyrinth and did not have the heart to kill. Yet he had stabbed percy in the back and had been the final part in awakening kronos. He didn’t want any other demigods to be brainwashed and forced to lay down their lives for an evil cause. 

Chiron looked grimly at the counsellors, “I’m afraid our protecters are already spread out thin, especially now with grovers newly found mission to protect the wild on pan’s orders, there isn’t much we can do” 

“But there has to be!” percy complained, “Luke’s manipulating kids as young as 7 to fight for kronos, and we’ll have no choice but to fight against them. Can’t we send campers to help the protecters?” 

Chiron nodded, “I understand that percy but our numbers are already extremely low. And i do not want to be pessimistic but if we are to fight against kronos we are not in the best shape. we need everyone at camp half blood training and preparing, we can’t afford to send anyone away” 

Percy was filled with anger yet he completely saw where chiron was coming from. He opened his mouth to argue back- even though he knew he couldn’t win against chiron but you spoke up instead. 

“How about if I go?” you suggested politely and the whole table turned their heads to you, “I have a pretty good sense for demigods, and monsters as well. And I’ll be able to bring them to camp half blood and maybe find satrys and bring them back with their demigods too” 

Chiron paused for a second, considering this before speaking up, “that is a very brave suggestion, Y/N but it is far too risky-”

“I can do it,” you interrupted, the polite smile on your face disappeared and was replaced with a determined look, “I’ll bring back as many demigods I can” 

Percy stared at you dumbfounded, he wanted nothing more but for chiron to shut you down and tell you that you weren’t leaving camp on your own. 

It had been him who had suggested the idea in the first place, but he didn’t think that you would offer to go out scouting on your own. 

“she’s right!” Beckendorf spoke up,“ if there’s anyone at camp who could do it it’s Y/N” 

You sent a warm smile of thanks to beckendorf and percy sent him a death glare.

“Yeah, I must say if there’s anyone who can afford to miss training, it’s Y/N” clarisse supported and Percy started to panic as a wave of agreeing murmur echoed around the room.

“Then it’s decided, Y/N can go out and look for demigods-”

“No!” Percy stood up and the whole room stared at him in shock.

“No?” you questioned, slight amusement in your voice, “percy it was you who suggested-”

“I know” percy said, his voice tight, “but what I suggested is that multiple campers go”

You too stood up, your brow furrowed and your jaw set in a challenging look, “yeah but what difference does it make? Satyrs go out to find demigods by themselves, i’m just doing what they do” 

Percy had to fight to keep standing up, you’d never looked so angry and the fact that you kept your voice calm scared him even more, “Yeah but you’re a demigod out there by yourself, you’ll fall right into lukes hands!” 

“Oh so you think i can’t handle it?” you said slowly.

“I didn’t say that!” percy exclaimed, his voice raising.

“Really? because it sounded like you meant that” 

The rest of the counsellors and chiron had gone silent, their heads kept going back and forth between you and percy like they were watching an intense tennis match. 

“Well it wasn’t what i meant, what i’m saying is that this is a bad idea and you shouldn’t go-” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shouted, and the whole room made a collective gasp, nobody had ever seen you lose your cool before and it was extremely frightening.

“don’t you dare for a second think you can order me around” you said quietly, clipping every syllable so that each word felt like a stab to percy’s heart. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Percy scoffed, the way you were flexing your hand as if wishing you could strangle him provoking him even more, “no matter how powerful you may be you can’t go out there by yourself” 

“Why can’t i percy?” you questioned and you sounded as if you could laugh, “if it was any other camper you wouldn’t be so defensive about it would you? you’d even jump at the chance to do the job yourself so why in the world does it concern you when it’s me?!” you voice rising again, your hands still in the position of when you had gestured to yourself. 

Percy stood there staring at you. He didn’t know what to say, what could he say? “because i don’t want the girl i like to go on a dangerous mission and risk her life before i get the chance to tell her how i feel that’s why”. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak because of the way you were staring at him with your eyes locked on him, narrowed. you were fuming, percy was surprised you hadn’t crushed his lungs yet. 

Even for someone your height you were without a doubt the most intimidating person in the room at that moment. And that included beckendorf who was the biggest guy in camp and the same height as you sitting down and clarisse who had her army boots resting on the table and was sharpening her pocket knife. 

Suddenly you turned to chiron, “when can i leave?” 

Percy let his mouth fall open, you were leaving just like that? 

Chiron looked at percy before answering you with a tired voice, “you can leave at sunrise tomorrow, i’ll have argus drive you to the city”

You nodded once, “Thank you, may i please be excused?” 

Chiron blinked his eyes slowly and nodded. You left the room with one fleeting hurt gaze at percy. And with that the guilt came crashing down on him. 

Annabeth sent percy a ‘you only had to go and do it’ look and stood up, “Chiron can i-” 

“Go” chiron said without hesitation and annabeth rushed out of the room. 

The room was silent for a while as chiron wheeled his wheelchair to the side to pour himself a glass of water. 

Nobody knew what to say, they just all stared at the door you had left through and avoided looking at percy. 

“You messed up big time man” Connor snickered, and katie gardener punched him. 

Percy sat back down in his seat, “She hates me” 

“You got that right” travis added, who too, receive a punch from katie. 

Later percy was hoping to see you at dinner, but you weren’t there. In fact, he hadn’t seen you all day, nobody had except for annabeth- of course, since you had locked yourself in your room “preparing” for your leave. 

Percy felt guilty, he didn’t mean for it to come out like that. But when you put him on the spot, asking him why he cared, he couldn’t have possibly just said why. 

“Hey percy!” 

Percy turned around, and found annabeth running towards him, oh my gods she's going to kill me.

“Annabeth I didn’t mean-”

She put her hand up, “I know, you had good intentions and i honestly i would’ve done the same”

Percy felt himself release a sigh of relief, so it looks like he wasn’t going to get a serving of knife in the gut. 

“But it’s the right choice, there are other demigods lives at risk here too, and Y/N our best choice for preventing that. Don’t worry so much, she’ll be fine” Annabeth reassured as her and percy made their way to the cabins. 

Percy looked over at the big house, he could see the lights in your room were on, “Is she still-”

“angry at you?” annabeth finished and percy nodded sheepishly, “she still kind of is. I don’t know what she was expecting though, a love confession? I think she was just more angry at the fact that you’d let anyone else go but not her” 

Percy sputtered, “no- uhm but, yeah but it’s only because-”

“Don’t worry, i know” Annabeth patted percy on the shoulder condescendingly, “but you should really go see her off tomorrow though” 

“I was planning on that already,” Percy said.

He had imagined of what you might say or more like what you might not. You might just ignore him completely and he’d look like a total loser or dead if he’d angered you enough. 

So the next morning at sunrise percy made his way to the top of half blood hill. Others had come to see you off at the big house where everyone was supposed to say goodbye, but percy didn’t exactly want your little ‘make amends session’ to be witnessed by everyone. 

He just hoped you hadn’t left yet. 

He could still sense you though, over time you had gotten better at hiding your radiance- how? percy didn’t know. But whenever you were close by he could just feel your presence. And he could feel your presence getting stronger as he approached the top of the hill. 

When he got there you stood leaning on one leg and arms folded, giving percy one of your stoic expressions. 

“I uh-” percy halted to a stop and suddenly was at a lost of words. 

He had expected to shout you name dramatically and have you spin around and face him in shock and then you’d run up to him and give him a hug, because he had come to see you off in the end. He didn’t expect for you to expect him and catch him off guard. 

“Uh, hi?” Percy tried and it took a good second before you finally gave him a response- a raised eyebrow but that was better than blasting percy of the hill. 

Percy took in a deep breath, “Y/N i’m really sorry for what i said yesterday it’s just, i don’t want you getting hurt okay? If something were to happen to you-” but percy faltered as he saw you smiling.

“You’re forgiven, but i wasn’t really that mad in the first place” you said softly and percy took this as a sign that he could walk closer to you. 

“And i’m sorry too” you said, “i shouldn’t have shouted back” 

percy laughed, “it’s okay” 

Percy’s laughing died out and the two of you stood just looking at the view. Despite standing so close, the two of you said nothing. It was just like the last time you had left camp, nothing had changed- it was something about half blood hill that made the two of you to not know how to say goodbye. 

“Just let me go with you” percy asked abruptly as he turned his body to look at you. 

You were taken by surprise but as always the emotion faded to that kind stoic face of yours, “percy, you have bigger things to worry about” 

Percy cursed to himself, why did his stupid fate always have to get in the way of things? He was extremely tempted right now to say screw bigger things, and just run off with you to find demigods, fight monsters- he didn’t care what the two of you did, as long as he was with you. 

BEEP.

The sound made percy jump and he spun around to see the white van that argus was waiting for you in, 

“I’d better go,” you said in panic and started walking away, “I guess i’ll see you later percy” 

Percy knew you were only acting so casual, as if you were going to be back that night, because you were scared that there was a possibility that you weren’t going to see him again.

You had always been an optimistic person and always tried to pretend that everything was going to be okay. “if you act like things are going to be alright then they will”  You always used to say to percy, since you said he was such a pessimist. 

So it made perfect sense to percy that you didn’t make this seem like your last goodbye. 

Percy hated it to be like this but he knew time wasn’t on your side, and he stood shocked and not knowing what to do as he watched you begin to walk away from him. 

Maybe it’s for the best, he thought and turned around to make his own way back to camp before he could run after you, whisk you up in his arms and lock you away from harm. 

“Percy!” 

He looked over his shoulder and was slammed into by you that the force nearly caused the both of you to tumble down the hill. 

The second he felt your arms around him he hugged you back, tighter. Percy felt his heart beating faster- it was already beating fast but it was only now he noticed it, as you pressed into his body and tugged at the fabric at the back of his hoodie. 

When you looked up at him you eyes were tearing up, “I’ll miss you, a lot” 

“I’ll miss you too princess” percy grinned. 

he almost let out a growl of frustration, the two of you could have had the whole of yesterday to spend with each other, but because of your argument he was only getting these last few seconds with you to say goodbye. 

“Don’t do anything-” you started, you voice cracking sightly but you were cut off.

Percy took a hold of the side of your face and place his lips on yours.

At first, percy was worried, he didn’t mean to kiss you without your permission and he was about to pull away and start profusely apologising, but you kissed him back. 

Then percy smiled into the kiss, he almost couldn’t carry on from how big he was grinning. 

He finally pulled back looking at your pretty face, for all he knew, for the last time, “stupid?” he smirked, “yeah, wasn’t planning on it” 

A smile cracked across your face, “idiot” 

Percy laughed as he finally let you go. 

BEEP.

You looked over you shoulder at the car at the road, argus was probably really annoyed at how long you were taking. 

You then looked at percy with a soft gaze and a kind smile, “Goodbye percy jackson” and you began walking backwards towards the road. 

“See you later princess,” percy chuckled, lifting his hand to give you a wave. 

And at that moment he saw your smile falter, it was like watching a tank filled to the brim with water crack. 

but before he could see anything else, you spun around and ran down half blood hill. 

And with an arrow in his heart, percy watched you race down towards the road, knowing very well that this could be the last time he would see the daughter of ananke again.