#I’m more a last-minute passing-thought addition to a group get-together

[victory-cookies]

.

[winterrsun]

Comfort

Reader x Daryl Dixon

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only

A/n: This is smut but it’s like the fluffiest sappiest smut, it’s meant to be really emotionally gratifying. Also I’ve really kinda half heartedly set it up for a part 2 where they reunite with the group and Rick…let me know if you think I should continue this!

Summary: after the prison fell, you and Daryl start to mourn what you’ve lost and find comfort in each other, both emotional and physical.

————————————————————————

The last couple of weeks had been such a blur. After the prison fell, you were thrown back into survival mode and all sense of security was gone. You never knew where your next meal would come from, or whether you were minutes away from death. You were grateful you’d gotten out in the company of Daryl and Beth; you’d always gotten along with both of them and Daryl was one of the most experienced survivalists. It was nice having Beth to talk to and relate to the experience as well, neither of you being natural outdoorsmen. Even if he was a grumpy ass most of the time, and she was still a bit of a bratty teenager at heart, you’d fast grown extremely reliant on both of them being around you.

You’d all found a small shack to hole up in for a couple of nights, you’d also found a stash of moonshine in the cupboard. Beth had been insistent on trying her first drink. It made you both amused and sad when you compared her experience to your teenage party years, so while Daryl disapproved you thought it was only fair to have your own little party. That’s how the three of you ended up on the living room floor, laughing your heads off.

“Really Y/N, you never been camping?!” Beth questioned incredulously.

“Yer even more a princess than I thought” scoffed Daryl.

“Yeah yeah,” you laughed, “well I suppose my whole life’s a big camping trip now.”

“Alright alright, my turn!” Daryl exclaimed. “I never… bin to a wedding”.

“You what?! Daryl that’s just sad” you said before taking a large swig of the homemade booze.

“Yeah, even I’ve been to a couple. Only other time I drank any liquor, daddy let me have a glass of champagne” said Beth.

“What part of my life was a fucking shit show before all this do you two not get” he grumbled.

You rubbed his arm, “alright we know, just teasing you” you smiled.

Beth’s giggles turned to hiccups, and she eventually lay her head down on the sofa and you realised she’d gone to sleep.

You nudged Daryl and nodded at Beth. He smiled at you, and pointed to the singular bedroom in the shack- suggesting you and he should move into the other room so as not to wake her.

The room was small; a double bed took up almost all the floor space, so you plopped yourself down on it. Daryl followed, carrying the bottle of moonshine with him. He took a sip before passing it to you, who did the same.

“She’ll be right” he gestured to the door, referring to Beth in the other room.

“I know” you replied, “we’ve all been there, she just needs to sleep it off.”

He nodded and you fell into an easy silence, both taking additional sips now and then. You grew pensive, and some of the thoughts you’d been mulling around for days started to come to the surface. The tipsy haze in your brain had your lips moving before you even knew you wanted to share what was on your mind.

“I don’t think I’ve said it,” you said, looking to Daryl, “but I’m so grateful for the two of you. The amount of times I’ve wondered what kind of state I’d be in if I was on my own…”

“Can’t be thinkin like that” he replied gently.

“I know. It’s just, it makes me mad to think about how quickly our circumstances changed. Things were so good Dar, they were finally all coming together. And then…..it’s just nothing in this world can ever really work can it?” You were rambling a little, but Daryl didn’t look like he was going to challenge you or tell you to be quiet. He just looked at you sadly.

“Do you think we’ll ever see any of them again?” You whispered to him. A tear escaped your eye and started to trickle down your cheek.

“I don’t know” he replied, and to your surprise he reached towards your face and softly wiped the tear of your cheek, “but I’m glad we’re here together too”.

He didn’t remove his hand from your face, in fact he gently cupped your chin. You leaned into it, while his head dipped closer to you and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes and allowed the sweet sensation to wash over you.

When he pulled back away he looked unsure of himself, and mumbled a “sorry” to you.

You shook your head, placed your hands on his chest and leaned back toward him, kissing him more deeply this time. His tongue crept into your mouth and started to dance with yours.

Your hands drew up behind his neck as the two of you continued, and he reached for your waist, pulling you into his lap. The kiss grew needier as you straddled him; it wasn’t a need driven by pure sex and physical desire. It was like all the emotions you’d been feeling since the prison poured into your movements, and Daryl lapped them up and returned them with his own. You could’ve been hugging, or crying in each others arms, but instead you were kissing and writhing against each others bodies and it had the same cathartic effect.

You clung onto him as he pulled his lips away from yours briefly, to gently and slowly peel your dirty shirt up from your body. You allowed him to manoeuvre your arms overhead so he could take it off and toss it aside. He then reached around and unclasped your bra, and took a moment to stare at and admire the sight before him.

“You’re beautiful” he almost whispered, starting to run his hands over your breasts and grope them lightly. “I’m gonna take care of you Y/N, I promise”.

You were almost overwhelmed at this moment of pure bliss. You’d never thought there’d be anything sexual between you and Daryl. He was one of your best friends, with a bond like family. Sure he was hot. You’d notice his biceps peaking out of that winged vest and your heart might’ve quickened slightly every time you saw the way he gripped his motorbike handles. But you’d always just been friends.

Let alone the fact that you actually had a thing with his best friend. You and Rick had never defined whatever it was between you, but there was denying when he snuck into your cell nearly every night who you belonged to.

But Rick was gone. You didn’t know where, or if he was even alive, or if you’d ever see him again. It played on your mind every single day. You missed him so much more than all the others, longed for him. You were sick of it eating at you, and you just wanted to feel good for the first time in weeks.

You clawed at Daryl’s shirt, and he took a break from massaging your breasts to help you remove the black tee from his body. You pressed into him as your lips found his again and you relished the feeling of his skin against yours. It felt warm and unbelievably comforting. He began to rub circles on the small of your back and you arched into his touch.

“Daryl” you breathed against his mouth.

“What do you need baby?” He asked, pulling back and grabbing your face in both of his hands, eyes searching yours.

“You…I just need you” you said pleadingly.

Daryl shifted beneath you and lifted you up to flip you onto your back on the bed.

He slowly pulled your pants down and hovered over your torso, looking at your cotton panties. He dipped down and placed a soft kiss on your abdomen, creeping along your hip line. You hummed and wriggled at the tickling sensation, enjoying it. You felt a warmth envelop you from his touches. Then his fingers hooked into the elastic around your waist and pulled the fabric down from your body.

He ran his hand back up your leg, his eyes following the movements before he flitted them up to your face. You made eye contact and he sought the non verbal confirmation that you were okay. You bit your lip in anticipation as you gazed up at him, allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable under his touch. Now fully naked on the bed.

You gasped as his fingers found their way into your fold, and began to gently stroke around. You flinched slightly as he ran over your clit for the first time, and he placed a kiss back on your lips, then trailing down your neck. He began drawing circles around your sensitive nub at a steady but not too fast pace and he lifted his head back up to study your face again.

“So beautiful” he commented. You arched your back off the bed and moan softly. He picked up the pace a little and your pleasure increased.

“Daryl” you gasped, “I need more. I want all of you”.

He nodded, stroked your hair with his free hand before withdrawing them both to unbutton and remove his pants. You lowered your eyes and watched as he freed his sizeable cock from his underpants. You sat up and leaned forward, glancing up at him with doe eyes before attaching your lips to his member.

He groaned as you took him in your warm, wet mouth. You suckled and licked around it, playing with him while lubing him up for you. His hands found their way into your hair, loosely gripping it while you bobbed your head back and forth. He threw his head back and savoured the sensation.

After a little while you pulled away and he gently pushed your shoulder so you lay back on the bed. He braced himself over you and lined himself up, gazing down into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here” he whispered, hovering outside your entrance. You nudged your head up to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Me too” you said softly.

Then he slowly thrust into you. It ached just a little on the way in, but you quickly adjusted to him. For the first time in weeks you felt whole, and human, and like you were capable of something other than simply just surviving as he sank inside you.

You tensed around him and wrapped your legs around his body, which he took as a signal to start pumping his hips in and out of you. Warmth filled your body, radiating from your core to chest at the feeling of connection and intimacy. To your surprise, tears prickled your eyes as you felt emotionally stimulated as much as physically. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit onto Daryl’s shoulder, allowing his warm skin to absorb the moan that left you.

“Don’t need to keep too quiet pretty girl” he said encouragingly. You smirked and let go, noting the love bite you’d left behind before moaning out into the room this time as his hips continued to pound into you.

He pulled out briefly and you were left feeling empty and disappointed, just for him to gently grab your thigh and push your leg back towards your face, hooked behind his arm. He pushed back in and you relished the new, deeper angle.

“Fuuuck, yesss” you hissed and he smirked down at you.

“Feels good baby?” He cooed before grind his hips in a particularly deep thrust and you nodded, moaning in reply.

He picked up the pace now and you felt the heat grow in your belly, driven more by lust at this point. Your climax was building, and it was as if Daryl could tell. He drove into you faster than before, angling his hips upwards to hit just the right spot.

“Dar! I’m gonna” you began-

“I know baby, let go” he soothed.

With an almost scream you came, it rippled through you in waves and he rode it out with you. In this moment nothing else mattered, not the situation you were in, the home you’d lost, the people you’d been seperated from. It was just bliss for a perfect moment.

As your pleasure subsided Daryl snapped his hips into a few more hard times before grunting himself and moving to pull out of you.

“Don’t!” You cried without thinking, holding his hips to yours with your small hands. You felt his dick pulsate inside you as he painted your walls with his cum. It was the last, comforting gesture you wanted to take from him tonight. The feeling of him filling you up as much he possibly could.

His sweaty forehead met yours as he stopped moving, and you felt his penis jerk inside you one last time before all was still. You panted together for a few seconds, before he slowly rolled over to lay next to you.

You felt his ejaculate trickle out of you onto the bed, and groaned at the mess, grinning at him.

He looked around and grabbed a throw blanket from the end of the bed, using it to roughly wipe up you and the linen beneath you. You both chuckled, and he tossed it aside before throwing an arm around you and pulling you towards him to lay your head on his chest.

With your head on his bare skin and listening to the sound of his heart beat and the sensation of his breath rise and fall, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. He planted once last kiss to the top of your head before doing the same.

You woke with a start to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight beginning to creep in through the window, neck stiff from the angle you slept at. You felt chilly and looked down to see goosebumps over your bare body. Not just yours, you noted the extra limbs tangled with yours and remembered the situation you were in. You smiled to yourself, knowing that the amazing night was a once off for you both.

Daryl had just started to stir at your movements on the bed, before you heard movements in the other room. A female voice groaning, before stomping quick footsteps and the sound of coughing and liquid splashing the metal sink. Beth had arisen, and was experiencing her first hangover. You almost would have giggled, except you realised you had to get dressed quick and decide how to explain the two of spending the night in a small room with one double bed.

You looked back at Daryl, now fully awake and judging by the expression on his face thinking the same thing you were.

“Well, back to reality” you whispered with a shrug.

He pulled you in for one last embrace, planting a kiss firmly to your lips before whispering back “thanks for last night beautiful”.

[em1e]

⠀ ⠀ ༝ your mother said to pick the very best girl - and i am.

こづめ + てつろう + コウタロウ + けいじ // TAG, YOU’RE IT ⠀ ༝ ༝ slasher!au ft. kuroo + kenma + akaashi + bokuto ⠀ ༝ ༝ 4.4k words ⠀ ⚠︎ final girl!reader, VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH(s), implied fem!reader but no pronouns used, reader's bf and friends are oc's! ⠀ — a fun camping trip! what could go wrong.

you really wish you could pinpoint when everything went to shit. 

you could guess, sure. maybe it was when your boyfriend suggested coming to this hicktown, the promise of a campground for your friend group of four to have a wonderful, fun, and cool outing. maybe it was when his friend invited his new girlfriend - some girl from your college that talked too loud and popped her gum too much the entire car ride over. maybe it was when the lock to your cabin didn’t fully click into place. 

or maybe it was when your boyfriend slumped against the wall, his head cracked open with blood and what you could only guess was brain matter leaking freely from the hole. 

you should probably backtrack a little. think for a second. 

“does he have to bring his new girl?” you’re almost whining at this point, shoving the last of your bags in the back of the minivan your boyfriend, akio, thought would be perfect to rent for this weekend trip. 

‘so we can all ride together!’ he’d explained with a grin. you really couldn’t tell him no if you wanted. 

he hums in thought at your complaints, shrugging, “i mean he’s already invited her. he said she’s excited, too, i don’t wanna be the one to tell her she can’t come when we’re gettin’ him from her place.” 

you find it hard to believe that hana’s excited to be out in the middle of nowhere with bugs biting at her and no cell service, but you take the new addition in stride, “whatever,” you wave off, climbing into the front seat, "we’re getting chiyo and aya first though, right? they dislike her more than i do.” 

the twins, grouped nickname given to them by their brother and one bringing the parasitic gum-popping girl, have voiced their complaints about her coming more than once, but are ultimately shut down by said brother, riku. 

“mhm,” akio confirms with a thumbs up after he’s settled in the driver’s seat, offering you the aux as he starts the van. a passenger princess through and through, you start the playlist you’d carefully crafted days before - full of things everyone will enjoy, “then we’re gonna get hana and riku.” 

akio doesn’t miss the small thank god that falls from your lips, but he chooses to ignore it in favor of turning up the music.

༝ ༝

“i’m not really fellin’ this song.” hana leans over the center console to peek at what you have queued next on your phone, popping her gum loudly in your ear as she does. you grimace, but she doesn’t seem to notice while trying to decide herself what song to play instead. 

you lean away from her, head hitting the window with a small frown that barely disappears when akio’s fingers tangle with your own. 

“we’re like 30 minutes from the campsite, can you just sit down?” aya groans, happy to voice her distaste to anything hana does. to be fair, she’s been bouncing from seat to seat in the van, and you think it’s even been pissing riku off, if the way he grumbles a small yeah, please is anything to go by. 

you tune out any further argument while looking out the window, squeezing akio’s fingers with a small hum as you pass some dingey motel in the dingier town you’re passing through before you hit the woods, “if any bugs land on me or i see a snake or a spider, you’ll be able to find me there.” 

“the motel?” akio asks, grinning while glancing back in the mirror. 

“mhm,” you nod, sitting up slightly and stretching your legs as much as you’re allowed, “not dealin’ with that.” 

“we’re gonna be in the woods,” he reminds you with a laugh, “s’gonna be kinda hard to avoid all of that.” 

you shrug, “good thing that ‘no vacancy’ light was off.” 

“you’re funny.” he untangles his fingers from yours to squeeze your thigh instead, and the action leaves you smiling. 

and true to aya’s word, thirty minutes later you’re in the middle of the woods, in front of a pretty cabin akio rented on airbnb. hana complains before she’s even out of the van, swatting away invisible bugs that seemed to swarm her as soon as the door was opened. 

you do your best to ignore her, bumping hips with chiyo as you begin to remove everything from the van, “let’s have a fun weekend, yeah?” you offer with a small smile. 

chiyo returns it with a scrunched nose, “one could only hope.” and removes her two suitcases from the pile. 

༝ ༝

the first night was nice. riku might’ve made the damning decision to invite his annoying girlfriend, but he makes it up to the group easily by providing a surplus of booze, and the six of you get drunk off your asses and sleep until the middle of the next day. that saturday is filled with exploring around the cabin, walking down what trails were already there, and settling the next night off with a barbeque and sipping on what alcohol was leftover from the previous night. 

the second night does not end as nicely. 

you went to bed early. a headache, you think was your reasoning, probably from hana and whatever annoying habit she’d picked up for the day getting to you, but you woke up far earlier than intended. 

one look to your phone told you it was a little past midnight, and you chasisted yourself for not plugging in the device before laying down - the blinking red of 7% flashing at you from a day of taking lots of pictures in nature. there’s a crash somewhere in the cabin, the living room you think, followed by a scream that has you stumbling to your feet and almost tripping over the covers as they try to hold you down to the bed. 

hana’s holding what you assume to be her phone in one hand, pointing a finger at aya with a glare, “who the fuck gave you permission to go through my shit?” 

aya looks impassive as she shrugs, “shouldn’t leave your phone out. maybe then we wouldn’t know about daniel, 32, who likes long walks on the beach and, what was it chiyo, country music?”

hana’s cheeks flush, scowl deepening when she finally realizes you’re standing in the hall, “of course you’re up the second there’s something going on.” and as if god isn’t sparing her any chances, your boyfriend and riku stumble in through the front door, cheeks pink from drinking. 

hana’s eyes narrow between the three of you, before settling sweetly on her boyfriend (boytoy?), “riku, babe, i think we should head to our room. stinks in here.” she and aya share an intense glaring battle, before she clicks her tongue and saunters over to riku, who’s mostly being held up by akio. 

just as she snakes her hand around his waist, pulls him close, the door swings open again. it lets in the chilly night air, leaves you wrapping an arm around yourself with a furrowed brow. 

who the hell could that be?  

tall. objectively attractive with a sharp grin and dark hair, taking in each of you with enthusiasm. 

“um . . . do we know you?” 

chiyo asks, head tilting while the two boys turn to face the intruder. 

“me?” the stranger asks, mocking her head tilt, “no. not yet at least.” his grin is unwavering, and you decide then it’s unnerving, leaves a pit in your stomach when his eyes find your own. 

“who the hell are ya then?” akio straightens his shoulders, and despite being over the line of tipsy, stands tall. the stranger however, remains taller of the two. 

“is it a party in here or what?” someone behind you says, and you jump with a squeak when an arm wraps around your waist, a face you don’t recognize hooking their chin over your shoulder. gray and black hair finds way to your vision, and your body tenses before you’re shoving him away with a stumble. he pouts, slouching over, “thought a pretty thing like you’d be sweet.” 

“can we help you guys with something?” aya snaps, pulling you back by the upper arm so you’re a decent distance away from him, “this is private property.” 

the tall man from the door clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing, “maybe. we’re just here to have some fun.” 

two more guys walk in behind him, one shorter with a mix of overgrown bleached-blonde hair giving way to dark black roots, and the other a taller man with dark hair following in close behind. 

“is this a joke?” hana steps from riku, who’s looking just as annoyed as your boyfriend. 

“no jokes, ” the first guy who came in promised, “just wanna play a game with you guys.” 

“we’re not into games,” akio slurs out, “you guys should go ‘fore we call the cops.” 

this seems to make the stranger grin wider, holding out his hand behind him to his friends. the shorter one puts something in his awaiting grasp, and it’s like everything starts happening in slow motion. 

akio’s squaring his shoulders, getting ready to throw a punch, but the guy, without hesitation, is already swinging. except it’s not his fist that makes the contact - it’s a fucking bat. akio’s head turns with the impact, and the stranger takes another swing from overhead. it lands with a sickening crack, one that has akio stumbling backwards until his back hits the wall and he slumps over, fingers twitching once, twice, before stopping altogether. 

you don’t know who screams first - if it’s hana or chiyo - unable to process anything around you as you openly gape at your crumbled boyfriend’s form on the ground. 

“now,” the man with the bat wipes away a spot of blood that’d splashed to his cheek, “let’s talk about that fun, yeah?” 

riku takes a stumbling swing at one of them, but is ultimately knocked on his ass when his own hit doesn’t connect while they make their way further into the room. hana is the first to try and run out the door, but it’s slammed shut by the last guy to come in, steel eyes freezing her in place when her hands make contact with the doorknob. she stumbles away instantly. 

“let’s start with introductions, “ the bat man gestures to the couches at the center of the room, pulling a chair from the dining room to sit across from it. the slamming of another dining room chair on the ground has all of you scrambling to find a spot to sit while they find places in front of all of you, “‘m kuroo,” he points the bat to the one with blonde bits of hair, “that’s kenma,” to the one who touched you, “bokuto,” the final of the four, “and akaashi.” 

his head tilts as he looks at each of you squished on the sofa together, pointing the bat at the group and grinning when you recoil, “eenie,” he points it at aya, “meenie,” chiyo, “miney,” riku, “you.” stops on you, “tell me your names, pretty.” 

your eyes widen as you look between your friends. 

“u-um . . .” and you introduce everyone with hesitation laced on your tongue, looking at him for confirmation that you’re finished when you’re done. 

“and him?” he nods his head to akio’s body, smiles when your lip wobbles as you stutter out his name. 

“good job,” he praises, “now, we are gonna let you guys go.” 

hana visibly perks up at this, it’s not missed by the analytical eyes of the four studying your group. bokuto sighs from behind the couch, surprising both you and chiyo as he leans over the back of it and into your personal bubble again (when did he even move from beside akaashi?), “buuuut we gotta have some fun first.” he adds before kuroo can continue. 

“fun?” chiyo parrots with a squeak. you think you can make out a smile from akaashi. 

“fun,” kuroo confirms, “we’re gonna play a game. like hide and seek. you guys make it to the town that’s a few miles north from here, you win!” 

he almost sounds excited as he explains. 

“what happens if we don’t . . . make it?” aya asks with a frown. 

“good question, aya,” kuroo stands, pushing the chair back as he does, “we’re going to kill you, if we catch you. you’ll join your little friend over there.” 

you hear aya swallow hard. 

“what if we don’t play?” riku counters with a glare, “we can just stay here and you won’t get a hard on from chasing us.” 

“we’ll kill you here,” akaashi says easily, as if talking about something as miniscule as the weather, not about your life being held in the palm of their hands. 

“speaking of -” kuroo’s eyes flit over each of you, “seems kinda unfair to be a 5 v 4, huh?” 

you feel chiyo stiffen at your side from the implication, hand clumsily finding your own as kuroo towers over the five of you. 

“who should it be, kenma?” kuroo glances to his right, and kenma’s head tilts before he points. 

riku barely has the chance to stand before the bat is hitting him. he falls loudly to the center of the carpet, unmoving.

chiyo sobs, squeezing your hand, and aya wretches at the sight, vomiting over the side of the couch. you can only stare, wide eyed because surely this isn’t real. your boyfriend couldn’t have been murdered in front of you less than thirty minutes ago, riku’s not dead on the ground joining him right now, and these guys aren’t going to chase the four of you in the woods of some dense forest with such a minimal chance of escaping. . . right? 

chiyo’s fingers digging crescent marks into the back of your hand is what pulls you from that hope. 

“we’re gonna give ya fifteen seconds to get out of here-” kuroo starts, tapping riku’s back twice with the bat as if to ensure he’s down for good. 

you interrupt him before you can stop the words from spilling off your lips, “twenty.” 

“sorry?” kuroo’s brows furrow for only a second, before his head is tilting with a grin. 

“w-we get twenty seconds,” you ration, ignoring the way chiyo’s fingers are squeezing your hand too hard, “and we get to put on our shoes.” 

“you’re not really in a position to be making demands,” kenma comments impassively, but kuroo waves him off, closing his eyes for a second. 

“no, it would be a little unfair if we let them zip outta here like that. we’ll give you twenty-five seconds to put on your shoes and go and it starts . . .” he looks at kenma, who gives a thumbs up, “now.” 

only a second is wasted between the breath of his last words before the four of you are scrambling to stand. you have to drag chiyo up yourself, push her forward towards the door so she can slide on her shoes with shaky hands, and you’re following in suit as she’s opening the door. 

one of them hollers excitedly as you slam the door shut behind you, and your eyes meet kuroo’s just before the door shuts completely. there’s no comfort in the way he smiles, the way his eyes bore holes in your trembling form. 

༝ ༝

you’d been running for what felt like forever. 

somehow, you’d lost everyone in the dark - hana dipped into the right of the woods the second she was out the door, and aya and chiyo’s hopes of climbing into the van were crushed when they realized the tires were slashed, so the three of you made a dash following the dirt road that brought you here. one minute they were with you, the next you’re alone, and your legs were starting to ache from exhaustion. 

you freeze when a scream tears its way through the woods, echoing and desperate, but you don’t have a second to dwell on it when another body slams into yours. the impact knocks the wind out of you, and you almost scream until you fully realize who’s taken you down. 

hana winces as she looks down at you, tears trailing down her cheeks with her hand held tight to her abdomen, and it’s then you notice the blood. 

“t-the smaller one stabbed me,” she breathes out, a fresh wave of tears filling her eyes and spilling over her cheeks, “i didn’t even wanna come to this stupid trip.” she pushes herself off of you, sitting at your side. 

“we gotta keep moving, hana,” you whisper, forcing yourself onto your aching legs and offering her a hand to stand as well. 

she takes it with a frown, opening her mouth to say something before her eyes flit behind you. they widen for a second, before she’s shoving you back and stumbling away, ignoring your curse of her name as you fall flat on your ass. 

“two for one?” someone says behind you, you whip your head around as you see kuroo emerging from the dark of the trees, smiling with a tilt of the head, “s’a shame. kenma just went that way, too.” 

as if to confirm this, you hear a scream that has you cringing in on yourself. 

“now what to do with you?” he steps around you, crouching in front of you with his head still tilted, “you were quite amusing with that twenty second rule - and the shoes. no one’s ever demanded anything from us like that. i’d hate to end this chase when you’re at such a disadvantage.” 

his fingers tap the sole of your shoe, trailing up until his fingers brush against the skin above your ankle to poke there too, “you won’t make this boring for me, will you?” 

you dig into the dirt at your side with a frown, and he opens his mouth to say more, but you’re tossing the mix of twigs and dirt and leaves into his face before he can get the words out. he even laughs, when you use the leg his hands wrapped around to kick at his chest. somehow, miraculously, your other foot connects with his face while he’s distracted with controlling the first, and it loosens his grip enough for you to push yourself onto your feet and stumble away. 

you think you hear him laugh again as you disappear into the trees. you don’t stay long enough to find out what’s so funny. 

༝ ༝

kuroo was really enjoying this chase with you. 

they each took turns picking who they’d get to grab, and he was lucky enough to go first. 

but something about you was really driving him wild. and now, here you were throwing dirt in his face, kicking him right after hard enough to make his nose bleed. he wipes at the blood as it makes its way past his lips, metallic and warm against his tongue. maybe they could have even more fun with you together. 

don’t kill mine if you guys see ‘em. <

b> :( 

k> you got something in mind with them?

you could say that <

a> I just got mine. I can help you guys if you need. 

b> me pls !! mine’s slippery :( 

a> 👍

k> stabbed mine couple of times. she’s annoying  

just remember not to kill mine <

kuroo shoves his phone in his pocket as the three bubbles pop back up, uninterested in whatever else his friends might have to say.  

he’s got a chase to get back to. he grins at the thought. 

༝ ༝

you hadn’t seen anyone in what’s felt like hours and you were fucking exhausted. 

your legs were begging you to just take a break, your lungs heaving painfully with each inhale you took, but the adrenaline in your veins spurred you on further. everything ached as you stumbled up a hill, leaning against a tree for support to use the height to your advantage and fuck, you could cry at what you saw. 

just barely in the dark, you can make out the asphalt of the road - and if you squint your eyes, you can see a little further down the road is the shitty fucking motel you were gonna sleep in, the no vacancy sign shining bright against the dark of the world surrounding you. 

but then someone’s grabbing you from behind, shoving your back against the tree you’d been using to hold yourself up. a scream rips itself from your throat, clawing at whatever skin your nails can come in contact with, but bokuto, you realize, only smiles and presses you harder against the tree. 

“i’m so close,” you whimper out, shoving at his face when he drops it too close to your own, stomping on his toes and really doing whatever you can to shove him away from you. you glance to your right and you can still see the neon lights from the motel’s sign, the streetlights keeping the hicktown illuminated, “please.” 

“kuroo’s gon’a be so happy i caught ya,” he leans down, nosing at your collar and inhaling despite you still struggling against him, “exciting since ‘kaashi got mine.” 

you feel him frown against your neck, fingers tightening at your shoulders where they keep you in place. he pulls back with a pout, “that’s not even fair, is it! what’s the point of pickin’ who we wanna go for if someone else is gonna get ‘em anyways!” 

you’re frozen at the implication of what ‘got mine’ could mean. the question of who dancing on your tongue, unable to voice it. 

bokuto straightens after a second, smiling down at you, and you never really realized how much bigger he was than you until now - all muscles that flex as he readjusts his grip on you, “now, let’s go meet back up with kuroo, yeah?”

it frightens you how easily he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder - and despite your desperate flailing, the way you kick and claw and scream, his grip never wavers. you can only watch as the red LEDs blink further out of sight, until the light that remains is eaten by the darkness of the woods that surrounds you. 

by the time he’s walking up the stairs to the cabin, you’re worn out, and you don’t fight it when he places you on the living room floor. 

riku’s no longer at the center of the carpet, and if you dared to look you’d see akio is no longer slumped against the wall as well. 

bokuto crouches in front of you, toying with a piece of your hair as it falls in your face, and you half-heartedly push his hand away when he laughs, “we’re gonna have lots’a fun with you, i just know it.” 

he stands when the door is pushed open again, akaashi walkin through the foyer, dragging a groaning riku in behind him. you stiffen at the sight of him, scrambling to stand only to fall back against the floor when bokuto pushes you down by the shoulder. akaashi, not so gently, pulls him until he’s laying in front of you, and you feel your fingers flex with tears welling in your eyes when he barely moves. 

“r-riku?” you whimper out.

you’re answered in the form of a groan, his eyes fluttering open before they close again as if keeping them that way brought him pain. despite the way your hands shake, despite being pushed down before, you move to his side to examine what damage they could’ve done to him. 

bokuto laughs again from your side, but doesn’t stop you from pulling him to you protectively, “look atcha, worrying ‘bout someone else’s skin.” 

akaashi clicks his tongue, but makes no comment as the door swings open again - kuroo and kenma walking in with dirt and blood staining their hands and clothes. kuroo ruffles your hair almost affectionately as he passes and you duck away from the contact with a frown. 

he looks away from you, whispers something to someone, but your heart beats painfully loud in your ears and you can’t hear much beyond your own breaths. kenma fiddles with an already blood-stained knife, twirling it between his fingers as he stares holes into your back. 

kuroo takes the knife from kenma with a grin, kneeling beside you and tilting your chin up with the blade, “you do good, we’ll consider letting you go.” his hand finds itself at the nape of your neck, keeping you in place when you shy away from the metal. 

“w-what?” 

“you’re gonna kill him,” his eyes flit from your own to riku’s body lying beside you, then he’s turning the blade so the handle is facing you instead, pushing it into your hands, “it’ll be easy once you get past the first stab.”

your hands tremble at the weight of the knife, shaking your head with tears spilling over your cheeks, “no . . . no, i’m n-not gonna-”

kenma groans from behind you, and you flinch at the sound, closing your eyes as if that could make everything happening come to an end. 

“they’re not gonna do it,” akaashi says boredly, moving behind you to somewhere else in the room, “told ya.” 

“i think they can!,” bokuto adds, “they’re just scared of the first step.” 

kuroo’s staring at you like he wants to eat you, like you’re stepping in the maw of a wolf and his teeth could sink into you at any second from the way he grins, “you’re right. first step is the hardest.” 

his fingers wrap around your own on top of the handle, long and precise as he maneuvers you with his chest against your back, his arms surrounding you until all you can feel is him. it’s suffocating. he leans down, breath hitting the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me help you.” 

and he lifts the knife above riku’s body, and despite your protests, despite the way you fight against him, to try and squeeze your hand out from under his, the knife still lands right at the center of his chest. you’re sobbing with new vigor now, body vibrating when kuroo lets out a genuine hearty laugh.

he holds you upright as you curl in on yourself, numb. you so desperately want to fall. collapse, cold and lifeless just like riku. a nasty jolt snaps you back to reality. kuroo´s shaking you out of your stupor, his pupils dilated to the point where his eyes look black. he holds you vice-tight, cradling your head as you cry, your tears dampening his shirt. proud? maybe.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

[kuroopaisen]

takes one to know one || fushiguro megumi

➵ megumi just wants to buy some flowers from the nice stall attendant he definitely doesn’t have a crush on in peace. gojou has other plans.  

wc: 2.4k

warnings: gn!reader, incoherent chaos

a/n: gracie dearest this one’s for you :( you are so sweet and so lovely to me and i’m so, so glad we met in this hellscape (i would personally like to thank psycho-pass for existing) i hope i did your boy well! 

By the time he arrives at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi knows the flowers are a mistake.

“For me?” Gojou gasps, hands clasped and mouth agape in perhaps his most punchable smile. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

Megumi’s fist tightens around the handle of his bouquet. Today, it’s lilacs, irises and white lilies. It’s also much bigger than usual – too big to inconspicuously leave on someone’s fence or place in the school gardens.

“You can have them if you want,” he murmurs. What else is he supposed to do with them?

The delight on Gojou’s face collapses into a precarious mix of genuine confusion and insatiable curiosity. “Hah? They’re not for anyone?”

“No,” Megumi says. And if they were, I wouldn’t tell you. Although he doesn’t say that last part. Gojou would perceive it as a challenge, and the less he knew about Megumi’s private life, the better.

“So…” A grin splits Gojou’s face. “The person you bought them from must be special, then.” 

Megumi freezes for just a second. But he knows a second is enough for Gojou to glean all the information he needs.  

“Ah,” Gojou hums. “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” Megumi mumbles, well-aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.

“But why would you go out of your way to buy a bouquet of flowers, hm?” Gojou grins, shit-eating grin back on his face. “They don’t hand these out for free, you know.”

Megumi’s grip is so firm he’s scared he’ll crush the stems.

Although, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with them. It doesn’t feel right to throw them out – not when you’d spent time putting it together – but he wasn’t about to revamp his room with a distinctly floral accent.

Is it against social protocol to give the flowers back to you? Not now, of course, but maybe on his evening walk… or tomorrow morning…

He still doesn’t know why he didn’t just walk past you that first day.

But something about the way you were gazing out into the street, eyes wide and hopeful as you watched people ignore you on their daily commute… something about that drew him in.

And once he’d bought something from you once – just a small flower, one he didn’t know the name of, but seemed appropriate behind a cute girl’s ear – he couldn’t very well start ignoring you.

Not when your smile is so bright, your eyes sparkling with gratitude whenever he takes whatever floral arrangement you’ve lovingly bundled together out of your hands.

But now he’s paying the price – in more ways than one.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your flower stall is just a few feet away from one of the trendiest cafes in this area of Tokyo, and whoever oversees your little operation is obviously trying to capitalise on that. Setting up so early must be an attempt to catch the rush of bleary-eyed corporate workers craving their necessary morning coffee.

What use an office worker has for flowers, Megumi doesn’t know. But he has a feeling that you’d probably say something along the lines of “it’ll help brighten the place up.”

As usual, you’re waiting there patiently, eyes hopefully scanning the streets for any potential customers. Your face positively lights up when you finally catch sight of him – something that still makes Megumi nearly trip over his own feet.

“Good morning!” You call out, waving to him.

Megumi raises a hand in response, shuffling towards you with all the embarrassment of a high schooler on their way to their first date.

“Can I interest you in a floral arrangement on this fine Saturday morning?” You grin, eyes twinkling as you make your marketing pitch.

“Sure,” Megumi sighs, scanning the vast array of flowers currently on display. He’s getting better at picking them out, but he still can’t name any of them on sight.

You wait patiently, hands folded on the counter. If you think he’s an idiot, you keep it to yourself.

“Those ones,” he says, pointing at a group of blue heart-shaped flowers.

“The morning glories?” You ask reflexively, reaching over to pluck a bunch out of their display.

“Yeah,” Megumi shrugs. He has no idea what a morning glory is. The term sounds like something Gojou and Yuji would snicker at.

“They’re gorgeous,” you smile, taking a moment to admire them.

“Yeah,” Megumi says again.

Flowers aren’t really his thing; God help him if he was ever asked what his favourite kind was. But there’s no point in saying any of that – not when he’s already spent an embarrassing amount of money at this one stall.

“You’re keeping the business afloat, you know,” you giggle, as if reading his mind.

Megumi blinks at you. “Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “It wouldn’t be amiss to say you’re our most important patron.” You beam at him, same sparkle in your eyes as always.

He’d be furious, if you weren’t so nice.

How is he supposed to focus when you’re looking at him like that? How’s he supposed to ask who ‘we’ is? A business partner? A partner partner?

But you look so young. You can’t possibly be running a business. But you might have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or both. Or a partner of an otherwise non-binary gender.

Too many questions, no social capacity to ask them.

“So,” Megumi begins, his voice calm and composed as ever. His mind, however, is scrambling around like a fast-food joint at rush hour, trying to string together a sentence that’s not only coherent but also fascinating.

“How old are you?”

Whoops.

It’s the forbidden question. Or, at least, that’s what people always say. People, in this case, is Gojou. It usually is.

You seem unbothered. “I turn seventeen this year.”

Was it only a forbidden question for people who’re older? But in that case, surely knowing someone’s age was pertinent for the whole ‘respect’ thing. Maybe Gojou just didn’t think he should ever ask anyone’s age because then he’s not beholden to honorifics.

But Megumi can’t imagine him using them properly anyway.

That’s not the point. The point is that you’re the same age as him. You weren’t somehow twenty-seven with a baby face.

“Oh,” Megumi nods. “Me too.”

The smile you give him is almost unbearable. How is it even more of a smile than your usual smile? That doesn’t make any sense.

There’s a certain excitement bubbling in his gut that he doesn’t recognise or like.

Wait, if you’re his age, then…

“Do you not go to school on Saturdays?” He asks.

Is this conversation too dry? He’s not sure. He doesn’t usually make an effort at this sort of thing.

“My school doesn’t have classes on Saturday mornings,” you smile, meticulously wrapping brown paper around the stems of a set of particularly bright morning glories. You always do it so delicately; where on earth do you find the patience?

There’s something… graceful, about how you go about it. Sure, it’s your job, but Megumi still enjoys watching you work because—

“Hello there!”

Megumi knows that voice.

Oh no.

“Hello!” You fold your hands in front of you and give your new customer a bow. But your usual smile has been replaced with an expression of middling confusion as you look him up and down.

Megumi doesn’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind him.

“Who’d’ve thought there’d be so many kinds of flowers in bloom, huh?” Gojou grins, slinging a lanky arm around Megumi’s shoulders.

Megumi glances to the side.

A pair of startingly blue eyes peek at him from behind black shades.

“What are you doing here?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I thought I’d just come out for a morning stroll,” Gojou sighs, gesturing to the sky. “Don’t you think it’s gorgeous?”

Megumi’s ready to commit a murder.

“And look at all these flowers!” Gojou exclaims, bending down to peer at some asters closely. “Did you grow them all yourself?”

“Of course not,” you laugh. “I just sell them.”

Jealous maybe isn’t the right word. But there is a twisting in Megumi’s gut upon the realisation that within minutes of meeting you, Gojou had made you laugh. Megumi, on the other hand, was yet to do that.

“Well, either way, my student is a big fan,” Gojou smirks, shaking Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi’s soul is currently leaving his body.

“I was just telling him that he’s our most valued customer,” you smile, tilting your head at the pair of them.

“Ah, is that so?” Gojou grins. It’s amazing, really, how he manages to capture all the terror of the apocalypse in one smile. “I never really took him as a flower guy.”

“Everyone’s a flower guy, sir,” you tsk, shaking your head. “Even you.”

Gojou places an affronted hand on his chest. “So quick to make assumptions!”

“Not at all,” you smile. “You’d be surprised by what our customer base looks like.”

“You don’t say,” Gojou grins, turning to Megumi.

Megumi considers the consequences of punching Gojou right in the nether regions. He doubts he’d be punished for it by the higher ups; if anything, he’ll probably be rewarded. Maybe even pushed up a grade for his invaluable service.

“Fushiguro!”

Oh no.

Megumi’s eyes widen ever so slightly. His head whips round to Gojou. His teacher is already looking straight at him.

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “I told Yuji to meet me here this morning.” The glint in his eyes strikes terror right through Megumi’s departing soul.

Sure enough, Itadori barrels his way towards them, damn near colliding against Megumi with a ‘thump’.

Megumi can do something but stare into the abyss, hoping, wishing, praying this is just a nightmare.

Unfortunately, it’s not.

You give the newest addition to this strange little posse a customary bow. “Good morning!”

Itadori beams at you, his entire face lighting up. “Good morning!”

A strange panic starts to rise from Megumi’s gut. If he thought about it, you and Itadori would get along well. Too well.

Thoughts of you and Itadori walking hand in hand down the street as you laugh, Itadori offering you his coat on a clod morning as you blush, Itadori walking you home, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as you lean towards him and –

Megumi blinks the thoughts away. What is wrong with him today?

You and Itadori have just met. And what was it to Megumi anyway? It’s not like he—

“Megumi?” Itadori tilts his head at him.

Megumi stares back blankly. “Hm?”

“I wanted to know how you found this place,” Itadori asks, voice bright but with the uncertain quality inherent to repeating oneself.

“Oh,” Megumi murmurs. “Well, I…”

In truth, he doesn’t remember. He just saw you one morning and decided to approach. He still doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t regret it.

“I roped him in with my charm,” you piqued up, picking up the lull in conversation.

Try as he might, Megumi just can’t concentrate. Itadori’s pressed against him, Gojou’s still got his arm slung around his shoulder, and—

“Ah, Nobara’s here!” Gojou beams, waving a hand over his head.

“What are you doing here of all places?” Nobara frowns, raising an eyebrow at Megumi. “I wouldn’t have taken this as your sort of scene.”

If there’s a hell, Megumi’s sure it’s this.

Conversation is bubbling around him but none of it is registering in his mind, he can see Nobara’s dissatisfied look as she takes in the situation at hand but he doesn’t have the energy to retort, Gojou is playing with the petals of one of the display flowers but Megumi knows he’s not going to buy it and—

“Hey, Megumi?”

He snaps back to reality at the sound of your voice, gentle and concerned.

“Are you alright?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. It’s as if you’re completely ignoring the rabble, as if you see him and only him.

Next to him Gojou, Yuji and Nobara watch with rapt attention.

“Yeah,” he lies. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

You frown at you look at him. Something flashes in your eyes and you suddenly duck beneath your countertop.

Megumi and his gaggle of fools blink in surprise.

In a moment you hop back up, something purple bundled up in your hands. “Here,” you smile, handing it out to him, “this is supposed to help you sleep.”

One whiff and he knows it’s lavender.

“How much?” Megumi asks.

You shake your head. “Oh, no. It’s on me.”

Megumi’s heart flutters as you smile. Despite the chaos going on around him, despite the fact that he knows he’s going to be mocked for this for weeks to come, he’s grateful.

Somehow.

“Sorry about this…” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” you giggle, shaking your head.

Megumi feels Gojou chuckle quietly, his chest rattling. Itadori is unusually quiet and Nobara seems moments away from a laughing fit.

“I should go,” Megumi says quickly and suddenly. He doesn’t give you time to respond, zipping down the street as fast as his feet can carry him. He needs a shower and then a run and then he needs to beat a training dummy up and then—

“Wait, Megumi!”

He freezes in his tracks. That’s… your voice.

And around his wrist is… is…

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes darting for where you hand wraps around his wrist. Why is his heart racing so absurdly fast? Why does it feel like his head’s about to explode? You’re just holding his wrist. You’re not even touching his skin. Not that it matters—

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You ask, not quite able to meet his gaze.

It brings him back to the moment.

“Of course,” Megumi answers reflexively.

You finally lift your eyes up. They seem to be sparkling. “I look forward to it.”

Before he even has time to process it you’ve let him go and trotted back to your stall, tending to your flowers as if nothing’d happened.

This has been too much embarrassment for one day. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on and he’s not sure he wants to know. But man, he needs at least several hours alone to process everything.

As Megumi shuffles away, Gojou bounds after him, still grinning like a fool.

“So, Megumi’s got himself a—”

Megumi elbows him in the stomach before Gojou even has a chance to finish his sentence.

[phykios]

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]

thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!

1)

Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.

Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12). 

Percy might hate college.

“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog. 

“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”

He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.

“How bad is it?”

“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”

“Ouch.”

“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation. 

He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”

“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.” 

“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”

“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”

Percy slams the computer shut. 

He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.

***

To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.

Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door. 

Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”

He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass. 

“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other. 

Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.

“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.” 

At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.

A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets. 

“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”

“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.

“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”

Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.

“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…” 

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks. 

Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.” 

“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up. 

Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”

“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.

When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.

Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”

“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…” 

Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”

“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.

Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”

She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”

“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.

“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”

“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”

“Don’t forget--”

“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.

Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements. 

“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”

Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.” 

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”

“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.

But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.” 

“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”

Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?” 

If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun. 

He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.” 

“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.” 

The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.

By morning, he has a response. 

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?” 

“Hey mom.”

“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.” 

Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper. 

“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise. 

He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”

She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!” 

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”

“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”

“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”

A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”

“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”

“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”

“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”

She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” 

And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release. 

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all. 

2)

“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene. 

Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”

Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.

Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says. 

William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”

“Deal.”

“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…” 

He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.

It’s… not what he expected.

The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.

It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea. 

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”

The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.

Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?” 

“You did.”

He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”

Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--” 

Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Gross.”

From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”

Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”

“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”

Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”

“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much. 

Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”

A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The what?”

“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”

A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”

“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”

Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”

“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.

“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”

Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.

"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."

"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."

Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”

Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”

He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”

“Seriously?”

The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”

“I’m not related to water, I just control it.” 

The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit. 

Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.

“Shh!” Nico hisses. 

Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”

The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.

Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles. 

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”

The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.

“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”

Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”

The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.

Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.

Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door. 

Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”

“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”

Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”

Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.

But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.

Nico’s eyes widen. 

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”

“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”

The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.

3)

Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”

“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”

“Annabeth.”

She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”

“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom. 

Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--

“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”

“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street. 

“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”

He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing. 

Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things. 

His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.

Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.

He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”

That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”

“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”

“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”

Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.

He nods. “Very interesting.” 

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else? 

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says. 

“Who are you working with?” 

“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question. 

He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?” 

What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.

The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand. 

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks. 

Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”

“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.” 

“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”

Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”

“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile. 

As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.

Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”

He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice. 

At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.

His mouth goes dry. “Um…” 

Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared. 

Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear. 

Annabeth, behind him, coughs. 

“S-sure. No problem.” 

Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?

He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him. 

But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”

This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend? 

That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice. 

She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far. 

“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”

Well, most of them, anyway.

Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.

“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”

“And how big were these models?” 

Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.

“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps. 

Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly. 

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.

“At my… summer camp…” 

Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”

Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”

“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”

Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”

“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.

Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.

She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.

Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?” 

His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”

“A little.”

He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.

He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.

She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps. 

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock. 

Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before. 

“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his. 

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.

He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could. 

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.” 

Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.

“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.  

“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan. 

“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today. 

“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor. 

They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit. 

And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision. 

4) 

He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.

It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.

Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.

And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.

Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”

“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”

“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”

“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.

“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”

He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--

“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”

Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”

“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”

“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…” 

He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!

“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”

The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.

“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.” 

Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him. 

“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”

He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--

Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”

“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.

Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”

Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”

He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”

Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”

But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”

A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.

With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.

“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”

She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”

As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together. 

“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together. 

Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”

The baby says nothing.

“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”

Junie blinks at him.

“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”

There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all. 

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time. 

Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him? 

Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode. 

Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.

Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes. 

Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.

Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust. 

Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”

The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.

Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner. 

Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. 

He might be in over his head a little.

Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks. 

Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.

He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”

“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.

Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.

Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.

Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.

Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.

Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.

He stops. 

He squints at one of his doodles. 

Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.

This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar. 

Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.

Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books. 

“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”

No response. 

Percy approaches the table. 

From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra. 

Percy picks up the book, squinting. 

The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself. 

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares. 

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?

And he closes his computer.

Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look. 

He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?” 

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness. 

***

“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.

His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch! 

“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth. 

“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”

He starts. “What did you say?”

Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”

A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--

“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”

“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?” 

Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”

Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”

Annabeth takes her without a second glance. 

Then she does take a second glance.

Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.

Annabeth gapes. 

“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.

“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”

5)

Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”

Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”

Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”

“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?” 

Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”

“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”

He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.

“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”

“No, why do you ask?”

His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry

“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”

“Can do.”

“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”

“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes. 

Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask? 

Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”

Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”

“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.” 

“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”

“Peas,” Junie says. 

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”

“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.” 

“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.” 

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”

“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”

“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”

“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”

“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head. 

As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21. 

Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music? 

And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth. 

“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly. 

“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”

Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill. 

However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”

“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”

“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”

“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”

That gets his attention.

Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it. 

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…” 

Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”

“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”

“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”

Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”

Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.

+1

Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”

And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake. 

Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window. 

“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos. 

Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.

“Psst.” 

Jamie looks up. 

There’s a four year old staring at her. 

“Hi,” Jamie says. 

“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks. 

Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her. 

Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.” 

She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.

The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers. 

Junie beams at her.

Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.

“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.” 

The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”

But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit. 

Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.

At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him. 

Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin. 

She really should have just stuck with German instead. 

[cinna-stars]

Worth Waiting For

Uhh, okay, this is my first ever fanfic! I might continue it based on the reception, but it was a few thoughts I had in my head that I wanted down on paper. 

18+! Some sexual themes and content throughout, however for those experienced smut readers, this is some mild sauce, not very much spice.

I have to credit @cyancherub for making me think about Kiri smelling like cinnamon, the thought hasn’t left my brain.

Kirishima x Fem!reader 

A cool breeze whispers through the slightly ajar window of your dorm room. The sun set a little while ago; studying always seems to eat up most of your free time, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise. You lean back in your desk chair, arms up, and stretch your muscles into a big yawn. The sudden contracting muscles have your stomach gurgling. It’s definitely time to take a break, so you close your textbook and stand up from your desk. I wonder if there’s any of those expensive sounding potato chips that Momo bought back from her trip abroad left over? The thought makes you salivate as you begin towards your door. You glance to the mirror in the corner and look at your own reflection: hair pulled into a loose, messy bun, torso swallowed up by an old band shirt Denki gave you (after a conversation initiated by Mineta on what you liked to wear to bed) and bare legs sticking out from the hem. Shouldn’t be a problem, as long as Iida isn’t feeling like a stick in the mud this evening. You open your door and begin creeping your way to the kitchen, hoping to keep noise levels to a minimum as to not disturb anyone who might be sleeping already.

Your ears perk up when you hear conversation coming from the communal area.

“On a scale from 1-10, with ten being the most boring, you have exceeded my expectations and we’ve hit an 11.”

“Shut up dude, it’s an absolute cinematic masterpiece. This is why you don’t have the remote- we’d be watching Care Bears or some shit.”

You approach the seating area to see Bakugou, Kirishima, Sero and Denki. The latter two arguing over what to watch. Bakugou looks like he’s about to blow a fuse, so Kirishima chimes in,

“Hahah, okay guys, why don’t we just watch a horror movie, like Scream or something? It’s an easy watch.”

“Sounds like a good idea as long as Kaminari doesn’t shit himself.” Sero tries to start again, but this is perfect timing for you to interject.

“Sero, I’m sorry, last time I checked, you’re the one who had to ‘leave suddenly’ when we watched Halloween.” A smirk appears on your face from ear to ear as all four boys turn their head your direction. You notice an empty spot next to Kiri and take the opportunity to sit, careful not to flash anyone.

“Hey Y/N don’t be startin’ on me. I have plenty of stories about you that we could share you know? What about the Jaegerbomb incident?” Sero matched your grin, and you feign shock by slapping your hand to your heart.

“You’re breaking my heart, Hanta. Are you the only ones up?”

“Yeah Iida sort of ‘encouraged’ everyone to go to bed early because of the test tomorrow, but” Denki motions in Bakugou’s direction “the angry Pomeranian barked and he gave up with us.” Bakugou snaps his head up from his phone to stare Denki down, but realizing he’s just proving his point, sighs and goes back to scrolling on his phone.

“You okay Baku-babe?” he grunts and flips you off, but you could see the corner of his lip turn up in a weak smile at the affectionate nickname. You knew he meant well, especially after the time you had spent together over the last summer with the guys; he just had a defensive temperament.

“You wanna join us, y/n?” Kiri propositions with a wide grin. His hair was still styled into sharp points from classes today, contrasting with his relaxed clothing choice of a t-shirt, shorts and crocs. He’d also made the addition of a white bandana around his forehead. As usual, he was looking incredible.

After the time spent together as a group over the break, it was great to get to know everyone better. As Sero’s oldest friend, it was always easier to stick by him, which had ended up in your favour by meeting these clowns. You’d slowly got closer to the other three boys too, but there was something about Kirishima you couldn’t shake.

The way you felt when you were left together alone in the same room at a party, or when the other guys ended up flaking so you spent the night together at his place, there was always a feeling of excitement, in more ways than one.

You’ve never been very good at flirting and you just seem to come across as an anxious mess, but Kiri was pretty much just as bad. Meaning neither of you ever made a move. Just awkward giggles and eye contact that lasted just a little bit too long for friends.

“I actually came to steal some of Momo’s fancy chips but yeah, let me get a snack and I’ll be ready. You guys want anything?” You get up off the couch and start your way to the kitchen.

“BEER. BEER. BEER.” Denki chants, making you giggle.

“Oh I’ll come and help you carry them!” Kiri jumps up to follow behind you. You can hear Sero make a ‘wha-PISH’ whipping sound which makes Denki burst out with laughter. In their defense, it was painfully obvious you were both pining for each other.

The kitchen isn’t far but it is out of earshot of the sitting area. You open the cupboard in the corner to find Momo’s chip bag, left sat there completely empty. “Oh come ON” you sigh, picking up the bag and placing it in the trash.

“No chips left? Don’t worry I got you covered.” Kiri stretches to the gap between the top of the cupboard and the ceiling, feeling about with his hand. Your eyes fixate on the skin that is now showing just above the waistband of his shorts. You slowly move your view up the side of his torso, his shirt draping over his body in all the right places, and then to his face, one eye closed and tongue sticking out in concentration. He totally caught you checking him out and now you’re both stood there blushing like idiots. He finally located the bag he was looking for and brings his hands back down, showing off the slightly dusty bag of unopened chips.

“These are your favourites, right?” You stand in bewilderment looking at the bag and nod. “There are many bonuses to being one of the tallest in this dorm” he grins. He even remembered your favourite chips? You can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you so much. Oh let me get the beers!” you walk over to the fridge and open it up, bending over to search for the well hidden cans. You know your ass is on show, and you’re doing everything you can to make it the best view. Arching your back slightly, barely moving your hips from side to side, putting on a full show without being too obvious. “Ah I found them!” You gather them into your arms, the cold metal against your skin sending shivers up your spine and making your nipples protrude from the thin material of your shirt. You stand back up and close the fridge, turning around to a very red in the face Kirishima. You send a sweet smile his way.

“Do you mind taking a couple they’re coldddd” you whine. He composes himself and grabs the first can he can see looking ready to fall. He then proceeds to take another, slowly exposing more of your chest and your hardened nipples. You notice his eyes dart to them and then back on the beers. Are you two really going to carry on like this? Acting like the sexual tension couldn’t be cut with a knife? His wandering eyes now have you blushing and you’re quick to fill the hanging silence. “Should we really be drinking when we have a test tomorrow? I’m no NARC but you know what Denki can get like. He’ll wake up the whole house.”

“It’ll be fine. The only ones that know where the rest of the stash is are you and me. As long as you can keep a secret, we’re Gucci” he winks.

“Did you… really just use the term ‘Gucci’? like completely unironically?” You laugh, nudging his side.

“Shut upppp y/n. Come on let’s get back to them before Bakugo kills Dumb and Dumber.”

 “Hoes and bros we come bearing beverages!” You walk in and pass out the three beers you held to the boys, Kiri slowly following with the chips and the last two drinks.

“Wait, who are the hoes?..... oh.” Kaminari has a moment of self-realization and stares at the beer in his hand.

“Denki don’t listen to her, she is the last one to be calling anyone a hoe” Sero hits you with another of what will be many insults of the night.

“Uhhhh says the guys who has a body count tally on his wall. If you ever get with Mina you’re going to need to take a trip to Home Depot to paint over those you know?” You counter.

“Can we watch the damn film already?! Could’ve watched half the fucking thing by now.” Bakugou finally lets off some of the pent up steam. Both you and Denki lift your arms up to your forehead in a salute. “Yes sir!”

Grabbing a blanket, you and Kiri get back into your original seats next to each other on the sofa furthest away from the TV. Sero is on the chair to Kiri’s right, sprawled over it in the most boyish way possible, legs stretched wide and arms hanging over the back. Denki and Bakugo share the sofa to your left, Bakugou reserved to the spot at the very end, finally turning his phone off, while Denki almost mimics Sero’s positioning, but one hand is wrapped around his beer chugging it a bit too fast. Sero presses play as you sit back into the sofa. Kiri’s arm is already draped over the back of the headrest, and it’s only a matter of time until his arm drapes around your shoulder and you lean into him.

You’re about ten minutes into the movie when he starts to move his fingers in little circles on your upper arm. If anyone saw you right now, they’d assume you two were together. The months you’ve both spent flirting and teasing, the light touches and the lingering cuddles. This is becoming unbearable for you, its overwhelming. How haven’t you kissed yet? You weren’t really a ‘hoe’ as Sero said, but you certainly weren’t inexperienced and have never had this trouble before, so what was stopping you now? If things continued like this, you were going to explode.

You look up at Kiri, admiring the contours of his face against the light of the TV. The way his eyebrows slightly furrow, and the way he’s chewing his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. You inhale the mild aroma of cinnamon, which is a scent that follows him around everywhere. You’re certain he’s aware you are staring, by the light blush reforming on his cheeks, but he allows you to for just a little longer. Right up until Denki yelps aloud from a minor jump scare in the film, causing you to jolt yourself and grab onto Kiri’s shirt.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared?” he asks, voice low and husky. “Don’t worry, I got you.” He lifts his free arm and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I-I wasn’t scared. Denki made me jump” you pout.

“Aww, even worse haha” he chuckles, the vibrations flow through your body, straight to your core, making you instantly wet. If he ever really knew the affect he had, you might just die from embarrassment. You release his shirt and return your head to his shoulder; however, his hand has maneuvered itself away from your upper arm and is now placed on your hip. The large amount of warmth is slowly followed by a very light squeeze of reassurance, and you’ve never been more aware that you aren’t wearing any shorts.

His breathing has now quickened, and his hand feels like it might even be shaking a little bit. He was so nervous, which makes him even more endearing. A wave of adrenaline rushed through you as you lift your hand to rest atop of his, to give him the assurance that it is absolutely okay to have his hand there.

About three quarters of the way into the film, all drinks have been consumed, chips have been eaten, Sero pauses and gets up for a pee break. “Couldn’t your bladder have waited? There isn’t that much longer left Se-bro” Kiri teases

“Ei, I don’t think I know anyone who could wait as long as you have” he leans down and darts his eyes between the two of you. You glare with intent to BURN. You thought too long for a comeback and unfortunately, he’s already happily waltzing off to the bathroom.

Kiri turns to you with a smile and lowers his voice. “Did nobody tell tape face that anything worth having is worth waiting for?” and you swear in that moment an entire flutter of butterflies were trying to escape you. That’s the most direct he’s ever been and it’s not something easy to ignore.

“I know you both have hidden the beer and I take personal offense.” Denki bellows. “I bet it’s on top of the cupboard where Kiri keeps all the good stuff” and he gets up and skips off to the kitchen, fully convinced he’s going to find what he’s looking for.

“I’m going to bed. Gotta be up early and you extras are pissing me off.” Bakugou gets up and stretches. “Love you, Bakubro! Mwah!” both you and Kiri heckle him with air kisses and you are met with yet another middle finger as he strolls off to his dorm room, that small smirk still present.

There’s that feeling coming back again. The way you feel whenever you’re alone with Kirishima. But this is the most compromised you’ve been: you’re basically half naked, he’s got his hand on your hip and he just dropped an absolute bomb of a line thanks to Sero. You can’t help yourself and before you truly think it through,

“Ei, I think I’m done waiting.” You lift your head off his shoulder, faces only a few inches apart. You can feel both your heart rates quicken in sync and your bodies getting hotter. He raises his hand and takes your chin in his hand, urging your lips forward onto his. The anticipated contact sends electricity through your body and the kiss deepens quickly, his tongue licks your lower lip asking for entrance and you accept immediately, releasing a soft moan from the motion.

You twist your body round so that you’re straddling his thigh, his wandering hand had slipped under the fabric of your shirt in the same place, playing with the fabric of your underwear. Your hands find their way to the back of his head, pushing him further into your mouth. You both are getting sloppy as lust takes over and you find your hips involuntarily grinding on his thigh. He breaks away from the kiss, pulling at your lower lip and working his way down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking lightly, causing louder moans to escape you.

“So- fucking long- I’ve waited- to touch you like this” he groans out between kisses and bites, sure to leave a mark. “Sound so pretty”

“Ah- me too, I- fuck” the stimulation from his voice and touch is almost overwhelming, but clarity sets in quicker than you’d like it too. “Sero will- ah- be back any second” and you release your grip on his hair. He’s really trying to pout at you, but he can’t help let his goofy smile beam through. You stare at each other for a few seconds, both absolutely beaming with happiness. He lets out an almighty sigh,

“Uggggh, you’re right. Hey, what are you doing after this?” he asks as you settle back down next to him, making you chuckle.

“Well I was planning on going back to my dorm and sleeping. Unless you have a better offer?” you beam.

“Well…” his grin gets wider, “you know there’s a sequel to Scream, yknow? Think you might wanna… what’s it called..”

“Scream 2.”

“I can make you scream, too. Sure”  and you erupt into laughter together, from his disgustingly awful pun.

Sero approaches from the corridor “Well you two sure can clear a room.”

“I’d blame it on Kiri’s terrible puns, but Bakubabe went to bed and Electabuzz is currently trying to find the rest of the beer but- oh there you are” Denki walks in, with a pout on his face, and flops back on the couch in disappointment.

“Denks, how about we throw a little party tomorrow after the test. We’ll let you in on where the secret stash is, too.” You offer, his expression immediately switching to that of delight.

Even though there was only a half hour left of the movie, it felt like hours until the end credits started rolling. Denki had managed to fall asleep and was snoring at full velocity, and the only person left paying full attention was Sero, as you couldn’t stop your brain from wandering from anticipation.

He shut the TV off and you tasked yourself with waking up Denki while Kiri cleaned up the empty beer bottles.

“Kami, come on sweetie, you need to go to bed.” You nudge him slightly causing him to stir. Sero walks over, and gives him a hard slap on the ass

‘WAKE UP ASSHOLE! Iida will kill you if you sleep on the couch”

“…I- sleep- your mom-..” he sits up and rubs his eyes

“Don’t be so rough Sero, he’s so sleepy look at hiiiimm” You say, admiring how cute he looked in such tired state. Kaminari finally gets up and all four of you head to the lift… shit.

You are Denki are on the 3rd floor, Kiri is on the 4th and Sero is on the 5th… how are you going to get to Kiri’s room without being suspicious?

A/N: Thank you if you read this in full! Please let me know what you think and if you’d be wanting to read the next part (which would include a lot more spice!)

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tubbo jack niki and wilbur - racing across the sea

requested: yes/no

part 8 of the great adventures series

warning: cursing, anxiety about the sea

ever since the argument you and tubbo had become inseparable, he practically lived with you and your parents at this point, and your community was loving it. everytime one of you would stream, tens of thousands of people would tune into your stream to see what madness was going on and today was no different. the pair of you decided to stream a laugh and the stream ends challenge. safe to say you ended up changing the rules several times, you even made ranboo join the stream so you could have extra lives. not long after the stream ended you, ranboo, and tubbo practically dominated the twitter trending page. today however was tubbos last day at yours and shortly after you ended stream, the pair of you headed out to the train station so you could make sure your best friend made it onto the train safely. after you said your goodbyes, you decided to facetime jack on your way home to discuss vlog ideas, and just to talk to him, as you had been rather busy this past week going over plans with ranboo, tubbo, and all of your parents about the uk trip that was happening pretty soon.

a few days later, it was finally time to go film the vlog. you couldn’t exactly lie, you weren’t exactly looking forward to this, as you were told it had something to do with the sea and boats which oddly enough didn’t mix very well with your fear of the deep sea. you had no idea what’s down there and you didn’t want to find out, but hey at least you’d be with tubbo.

your parents offered to drive you there so you didnt have any additional stress from having to get a train then a taxi, this allowed you to have a pretty quiet journey to meet up with your friends. you sat in the back of the car on facetime with tommy who was the only one who knew about your fear and was rather confused as the why you would agree to do such a thing

“i’ll never understand what goes through your mind, you’ve got this though! you’re going to be completely okay, plus you never know it might help you get over your fear, you did tell me you had been working on getting over it.”

“I suppose you’re right, it can’t be too bad. I mean I love the sea. I just don’t like what’s deep down, you feel me?”

“i understand mate, but you need to remember jack wouldn’t put you in danger. as much as he acts like he would, and even if you do fall off the boat or some how end up in the water, you won’t automatically end up at the bottom of the sea. just try to enjoy yourself, yeah?”

“...yeah”

“call me when you get home you can tell me all about what happened, afterwards we can record a minecraft mod video.”

“of course, boss man.”

“you hang out with tubbo too much, you should hang out with me a lot more.”

the car pulled into the car park and within a minute of the car stopping tubbo was at the window shouting your name.

“right tommy, i should probably go, ill see you later bud!”

you said goodbye to your parents as tubbo opened your car door for you.

“what a gentleman, thank you, tubbo.”

“anything for you, now let’s go. jack began filming the intro and i really want the hat hes wearing.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

he stood with his arms crossed shaking his head, pretending to be offended before walking off with you not far behind him.

you stood with niki and wilbur as tubbo went off filming some of the intro with jack. the three of you stood talking about how you have all been and discussing more plans for your meetup.

“y/n, go control your friend, he’s stealing a hat!”

you ran up behind tubbo and stole the hat from him, putting it on your own head.

“why have you got the hat now?”

“i am now captain!”

“but i wanted to be captain!”

you and tubbo stood arguing back and forth over who was captain, ignoring jack trying to get the pair of you to stop.

“you have 5 seconds to stop arguing or you’re being separated 5...4...3...2...1 right.”

“jack no!”

jack pulled you aside claiming he has something really important to ask you.

“so did you bring something valuable?”

“yeah i did actually, i brought tubbo and the necklace tommy gave me for my birthday last year.”

tubbo overhearing the conversation walked over telling you both that he also brought a valuable item, in fact it was a family heirloom.

“i brought an urn.”

“why would you do that tubbo? what the fuck-“

“you two do realise if either of you lose it had to go in the sea?”

“poor grandma.”

“aye about that you will have to pry that necklace out of my hands in order to throw it in the sea!”

the three of you went up to wilbur and niki where wilbur stole the hat you stole from tubbo, and you were told that you were all about to race to the isle of wight.

it was unfortunately time to board the boat, you sat next to tubbo, so that you felt like you had some sort of control with what was about to happen. the others sat making jokes about what was going on whilst you were trying to get control of your breathing. as you all set sail, you thought you were doing a good job of hiding the fact you were potentially about to have a panic attack as no one seemed to notice, or so you thought. considering the fact tubbo was your best friend, he instantly noticed something was wrong and wrapped an arm around you, and decided that distracting you would be a lot better than making you focus on what was currently happening.

“hey y/n, i have an amazing idea for when ranboos in the uk. a 4 month sleep over.”

“heh?”

before you had time to fully process what was going on, all you could hear was wilbur now claiming to be captain then going on to tell you why portsmouth is called portsmouth. you couldnt help but laugh at the random things he was coming up with since he put the captains hat on.

“that is a cinema..i’ve been in this industry for a while now, isn’t that right?”

it was silent for a while until niki tried to steal the captains hat, but was unfortunately unsuccessful .

“maybe next time niki.”

“thank you for believing in me, y/n.”

you pointed out a castle which ended up with wilbur talking about how the planned executions there .

“are they dead?”

“...tubbo of course they’re dead. what kind of question was that?”

the other boat began getting closer to the boat you were all currently in, indicating that it was almost time for you all to split up into two groups.

“my boat is going much faster.”

“that is a sign of pollution.”

“wow jack you’re polluting the world, i hope you’re happy!”

the ride was pretty chill until jack asked what he had lost in the past.

“past relationships.”

“the love or host.”

“laugh you lose streams.”

“the waterslide races from when we went to the water park.”

you and tubbo continued listening things that jack had lost.

“okay. so i’ve lost a few things.”

jack looked towards the other boat.

“however, you two are about to lose each other.”

“excuse you?”

“no, y/n is mine!”

eventually wilbur had enough and picked tubbo up and took him to the other boat with him.

“TUBBO!”

“Y/N!”

you and niki sat laughing as jack and wilbur bickered about who was going to win the boat race. whilst jack was distracted, you felt niki tap your arm and told you to look over to the other boat where tubbo was reaching his arm out to you so you could quickly swap boats.

you quickly got into the boat and sat next to your best friend, tubbo knew you were still slightly nervous, so made it so you would be sat in between him and wilbur so you would feel a lot more comfortable. a few minutes later, your boat began to set off and all you could hear was a mixture of tubbos laughter and jacks yelling getting quieter the further you went.

“AY THEY CANT START WITHOUT US!. AND THEY GOT Y/N, WHEN DID THEY GET THEM?!”

you turned to face wilbur who pointed towards a building before announcing that it definitely belonged to the the three of you, and was renaming it reddit gold.

“reddit..reddit gold, are you serious?” you said through your laughter, the three of you sat together taking turns narrating what was happening .

“go on, y/n.”

“if this capsizes, were all drowning.”

“cheerful as awful.”

“do you think sharks are beneath us?”

“i’m not even answering that question.”

you looked over your shoulder to see that niki and jack were catching up to you all.

“i hope they don’t overtake us, otherwise it’s bye bye tubbo.”

“and grandma.”

“excuse you, tubbo?”

“he’s claiming that he brought an urn with him and if we lose our valuable item gets chucked into the sea.”

a little while later jacks boat was next to yours and you and wilbur started to shout how it was like romeo and juliet.

“y/n, you studied this at gcse a while back, yell some quotes.”

“tubbo i didn’t listen to the teachers.”

“do it!”

“no!”

wilbur continued to talk to the others whilst you and tubbo sat bickering about William Shakespeare .

“tubbo my favourite character was benvolio and he fucked off halfway through.”

“what do you mean he fucked off?”

“he literally disappeared.”

wilbur was genuinely questioning what he was listening to he slowly turned around and tried to catch your attention; however you were currently in the middle of a debate about why benvolio disappeared, which was that last thing you expected to be doing on the boat. eventually your debate died down and you looked up to see wilbur shaking his head at you both, clearly confused as to why you spent 5 minutes arguing about romeo and juliet. an idea came to wilburs mind as he started laughing and pointing at the sea.

“drink some seawater, tubbo.”

you looked away as tubbo reached into the water trying to hold as much water as he could before bringing it to his lips and drinking the seawater.

“tubbo did you really just-“

“more tubbo!”

tubbo did the same as before, however this time brought his hands towards your face.

“drink it, y/n!”

“yeah, y/n, you can help desalinate it.”

“how wonderful, i’ll pass though.”

tubbo looked at you pretending to be upset and lifted his hands towards you again, this time you gave in and drank some of the water.

“thanks, tubbo, I can now only taste salt.”

jack noticed what you and tubbo were doing and looked at wilbur confused.

“im making them drink seawater!”

“what’s it like?”

“potassium!”

“salt.. a lot of salt!”

you checked your phone as you kept receiving multiple messages from tommy trying to get your attention, forgetting that you were currently on a boat with the others. you looked up from your phone to see tubbo drinking more seawater.

“AGAIN?”

you had no idea what was going on for jack and niki, but it sounded a lot like they lost hope as jack yelled asking if there was room for him on the boat while tubbo sat flipping him off in response to his question. jack continued to yell at the three of you however none of you could hear what he was yelling, so you kind of sat just nodding your head in agreement to what he was saying. wilbur pointed out that he could see the finishing line and how it looked like you were all going to make it. you looked over to see jack and niki recreating that one scene from titanic tubbo looked at you smiling, trying not to laugh.

“absolutely not one of us, if not both of us, would end up in the sea.”

the boat began to go significantly faster. at the start you were unsure how to feel, however a few minutes into it you began laughing enjoying how fast you were going.

“woahhh we’re turning!”

the boat did a loop before going straight on as fast as it could go.

“y/n, tubbo, we’re going. we’re going.”

“OH MY GOD!”

you ended up passing another boat you and tubbo instantly waved to everyone on the boat a few people waved back .

“they don’t wanna wave.”

“they know their boat is bigger than ours.”

“they could easily ram us and kill us all.”

“hopefully they decide against doing that.”

the boat began weaving resulting in you, tubbo, and wilbur constantly crashing into each other, not that any of you cared you were all having the time of your lives. you pointed at a boat which was cutting off the boat jack and niki were in .

“we’ve got this in the bag boys, victory is ours!”

your boat slowed down so it could dock.

“i think we’ve won!”

“we won”!

“holy shit we won! tubbo doesn’t have to go in the sea now!”

everyone got out of the boat so you could all wait for jack and niki to reach the dock, as the two of them approached you all tubbo began to sing.

“we are the champions my friend!”

“STOP IT!”

“i have to go into the fucking water!”

you pulled niki into a hug.

“jack you cruel man.”

“did you not have fun niki..we had a great time.”

you let go of niki and stood behind tubbo placing your head on his shoulder whilst jack explained to wilbur what was going to happen if they lost.

“oh, I thought we got to decide who was thrown into the water.”

“no no no no no no!”

“well i think considering we won..”

after a small discussion as a team, you all instantly agreed that jack should be thrown into the water, you all stood on the boat as niki argued that he cant throw her into the water. a couple seconds later wilbur walks towards jack handing him the camera before picking him up.

“are you ready?”

“i don’t think the bits that funny will, i don’t think the bits that funny!”

you all screamed and laughed as jack was thrown into the water. jack complained about the temperature of the sea as he climbed back onto the boat only to be pushed off again by you and tubbo.

“that’s revenge for trying to put us on separate boats!”

you spent the rest of the day together just hanging together as a group before you said your goodbyes.

the ride back home was you excitedly explaining what your boat ride was like to your parents, once you got home you ran upstairs to your room then called tommy on discord

“how was it then?”

“tommy it was so cool, honestly i wish you could have come with us.”

“i mean you’re coming with me george and wilbur to a water course next week, you don’t have a choice.”

“oh okay, it’s a good job i’d love to be there then, tom, also what mod are we playing just so i can check i have it ready.”

“rlcraft.”

the two of you spent a good hour talking before getting ready to film a video with charlie and jschlatt for tommys youtube channel.

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @c1loudee

[wishuhadstayed]

Plus One

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word count: 3000ish

Summary: it’s baby time y’all!

Warnings: pregnancy complications, angst

Author’s Note: to those who have been waiting, I AM SO SORRY. I hope this will be worth it! Part 8? to Begin Again. Please feel free to yell at me in the comments if you feel so inclined.

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Conversation flowed in the dining room and kitchen of the Hotchner residence as the BAU team and family impatiently anticipated the forthcoming announcement.

“It’s a boy, has to be,” Morgan mused.

“No way. Definitely a girl,” JJ contradicts.

“As much as it pains me to say, I think I have to go with Morgan on this one,” Emily admits.

“Garcia?” JJ inquires, “What do you think?”

“I have to agree with Chocolate Thunder on this one, love,”

“Are you all taking his side?” JJ asks with indignation. “I’ll bet you $50 that it’s a girl!”

“Oh you’re on, sweetheart,” Morgan complies with a winning smile.

“I don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy,” says Reid, “but I do know that I wouldn’t bet against JJ.”

“Thanks, Spence,” JJ replies, patting him on the shoulder. “Emily, Rossi? You wanna get in on the action?”

“Oh I am so staying out of this,” Prentiss responds. “Count me out.”

“I’m in with Morgan for $50,” Rossi states.

“Alright, but you’re all gonna be sorry,” JJ says with a smirk.

Overhearing the lively discussion, you enter the room.

“Children, what’s going on here?” You interject, “Don’t make me break up a fight.”

“Y/N! Just the lady I wanted to see!” Exclaims JJ. “May I?” She asks, gesturing towards your growing baby bump.

“Sure, go ahead,” you reply. “Do I even want to know?”

“We’re taking bets on the sex of the baby,” she replies placing a gentle hand on your belly. “And I am so totally going to win!”

“You can’t possibly know that, JJ,” Morgan interrupts.

“Call me crazy if you want,” says JJ, “but a mother knows.”

“I suppose you’ll all find out soon enough,” Aaron cuts in, placing a strong arm around your back and pressing his lips to yours for a quick, tender kiss. “Shall we?”

With that, everyone makes their way to the backyard, where a large golden balloon awaits.

Picking it up from the ground, Aaron asks, “Everybody ready?”

He didn’t really have to ask. The answer was unanimous.

“YES!”

“Jack, would you like to do the honors?” you inquire, holding out a safety pin for him.

“Can I?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course you can buddy. Just be careful, okay?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Dad and I will count you in, okay? On three.”

Together, you and Aaron slowly count, “One, two, THREE!”

A loud pop from the balloon momentarily startles the crowd and then..... a cloud of pink confetti floats to the ground.

“YES!” JJ shouts in her excitement. “PAY UP, LOSERS! We got a baby shower to plan!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several weeks later found you strolling through the back door of Rossi’s home into the yard where you’d married the man of your dreams not so very long ago.

This time it’s decorated for a slightly different occasion. Pale pink lanterns and streamers adorn everything in sight. A picnic table covered with a pink flowered cloth looks like it might collapse at any moment beneath the weight of a mountain of gifts wrapped in pastel paper. Heart shaped balloons are tied to the corners of another table on top of which is a giant bowl of pink punch, more food than you thought possible, and a breathtaking cake, decorated with tiny pink roses.

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn to see three beautiful, smiling faces. Women that you consider to be not only friends, but family at this point.

“Penny, Emily, JJ,” you say as your eyes begin to well up with tears, “This is too much! You shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble.”

“Oh this is the least we could have done for you, doll face,” Garcia interjects. “Nothing but the finest for my very best friend.”

“Don’t worry about it, my clean sweep at the gender reveal paid for most of this,” JJ jokes.

“You look absolutely radiant,” Emily adds, pulling you in for a hug.

“Where’s the boss man?” Penelope asks. “He’s coming isn’t he?”

“Oh yes” you reply. “He was helping Jack out of the car. He told me to come on in. He’s probably inside hanging out with boys for a minute.”

At that moment, you feel a pair of familiar arms encircling you, one across your chest and one just underneath your baby bump. A soft kiss on the cheek and he turns you around to face him. The tender look in his usually stern eyes melts you as he smiles and says,

“There’s my girls.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you too, darling.”

“Alright love birds, it’s time to get this show on the road!” exclaims Morgan, coming through the door with both Henry and Jack in tow.

“Thanks for keeping the kids entertained, Derek,” you whisper. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Mama. I’ve got it all under control,” he reassures with a wink.

“Should we be worried?” Aaron jokes under his breath.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Garcia offers, trailing off behind them.

Rossi and Reid bring up the tail end of the group, along with Jessica, Jack’s aunt, who had been previously supervising the kids.

“How are the parents-to-be feeling?” Rossi inquires.

“Overwhelmed, and so grateful,” you reply. “I know JJ said she covered most of it with her winnings, but I think we all know you pitched in too. And you’re a fantastic sport for letting the girls decorate your whole house pink.”

“Anything for some of my favorite people,” he replies patting you both on the shoulder.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Reid chimes in. “This baby’s really lucky to have such loving parents.”

“Reid, stop. You’re gonna make me cry,” you squeak out, pulling a tissue from your purse.

Just then, Jessica wraps an arm around both of you.

“Jess, you know you didn’t have to come,” Aaron says.

“Nonsense!” comes her reply. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As you go to sit so you can open presents, Morgan pulls out the chair for you, then pulls one out for Garcia as they settle in to watch the kids.

Maybe you were mistaken, but you could have sworn you saw a flirty look pass between them. A mischievous grin crosses your face. Perhaps you should do a bit of your own matchmaking.

“Jack!” you call. “Don’t you wanna help Mama open some of her presents?”

“Yeah! Can Henry help too?”

“What do you think JJ?” you ask.

“As long as it’s okay with you,” she agrees.

The kids ran up to help with their very important present duty. Jack retrieving smaller presents and helping rip the paper. Henry mostly just playing with the shiny bows. Thus leaving Morgan and Garcia free of responsibility.

When the last present had been opened, and the last game played, Aaron made his speech.

“Y/N and I just wanted to thank you all so much for being here today. We love each and every one of you like family, and we are truly grateful for all your love and support. We are truly blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives. Thank you again.”

As everyone was leaving, Penelope pulled you to the side.

“Did you call the kids over for help specifically to leave Derek and I alone together?”

“Penny, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” came your reply. “I’m just getting too big to be bending over to grab the presents and I thought it would be fun for the kids.”

“If you say so,” she says with a skeptical look.

As she walks away, Aaron whispers in your ear, “You are so wrong for that, you know?” with a playful shove of your shoulder.

“Oh they’re perfect for each other and everyone knows it. Besides, she played matchmaker for us and look what happened,” you reply, rubbing your belly.

“Okay, okay!” he surrenders with a grin. “You’re right. You’re always right. You win.”

——————————————————————————

As the weeks crept by, your little family was not so patiently awaiting the arrival of its newest addition. Being pregnant and taking care of a 6 year old without your husband was extremely taxing, making the moments that you did have with him exceedingly special.

Moments like today. It was nothing exciting, just sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company, but sometimes that’s all you really need.

Seated across from each other, You can’t help but admire the sweet look on his face as he touches your belly.

“I still can’t believe we’re having a baby girl,” he mentions.

“Neither can I,” you agree. “She’s gonna be smart,” you state, resting your hand on top of Aaron’s. “A lawyer like her daddy.”

“She can be anything she wants,” he says, looking up with his smile revealing the stunning dimples that caught your eye on your very first date. “As long as she’s happy.”

“God I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you more, angel.”

But mom duty never stops.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “It’s almost time to pick up Jack from school and I haven’t even started dinner!”

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Aaron says. “I’ll take care of everything, you just relax.”

“But I,”

“Ssshhhhh,” he interrupts. “No buts. I will pick up Jack, I will get dinner. You deserve a break.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

“I do.”

He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours.

“I’ll be back soon.”

What felt like an eternity later, you hear the front door open and two distinct sets of footsteps.

“Mama!” Jack yelled, scrambling up into your lap for a hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, buddy,” you reassure, pulling him close to your chest.

“What’s for dinner, honey?” you ask?

A playful smirk forms on Aaron’s face, raising your suspicions.

“You’ll see. In the meantime, Jack how would you like to watch a movie with me and mom?”

You all settle on the sofa, Jack in Aaron’s lap and your head on your husband’s left shoulder. Just as you were drifting off to sleep near the end of the movie, a knock at the door startles you awake.

“Dinner’s here!” Aaron announces. “Come on buddy,” he encourages Jack. “Help me out.”

As you reach the table where the food is being laid out, tears begin to spring to your eyes.

“I got you fries and chocolate shake. And a cheeseburger. No mayo, extra pickles.”

“Babe,” you squeak out, “you remembered.”

“Of course I remembered. It’s all you talked about while I was away on my last case.”

You laugh and pull him close.

“I knew I married you for a reason.”

——————————————————————————

Around your 36 week mark, Aaron called from his hotel room to check on you.

“How are you, love?”

“Still pregnant,” you gripe.

“I know you’re exhausted, mama. I’ll be home tomorrow. Just remember the go bag for the hospital is packed and sitting right by the front door, just in case.”

“Yes, Aaron. You remind me every day. Honestly I think it’s bit overboard, I’m fine.”

“I just worry about you being alone while I’m gone is all. It never hurts to be prepared. Anyway, I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Love you too honey. Good night and be safe tomorrow.”

——————————————————————————

When Aaron arrived home the next night, he was greeted by the sight of you dozing on the couch.

Easing himself down on the edge, he swipes a lock of hair from your face. He softly kisses your forehead and watches as your eyes flutter open.

“Aaron?” you murmur. “You’re home.”

“I’m home,” he whispers. “How are my girls?”

“Better now that you’re home. I’ve had some pretty intense back pain, but otherwise fine.”

“Well sleeping on the couch probably isn’t helping,” he states matter of factly.

“Oh thank you doctor,” you reply sarcastically, giving his arm a playful slap. “I would never have known.”

“You’re welcome,” he says with a shit eating grin. “Let’s get some sleep.”And with that, he sweeps you off the couch, heading for the master bedroom.

——————————————————————————

You woke the next morning still in pain, but not wanting to disturb Aaron. You struggle to sit up, finally managing after a few tries. You pull back the sheets and immediately get a sense of panic and dread at the sight of blood on the hem of your nightgown and the sheets beneath you. As the tears begin to stream, you instinctively call out for him.

Waking up at the sound of his name he asks, “what’s wrong, baby?”

But he realizes the problem before you even get a chance to respond.

Amazingly he seems not to panic at all. The tears and hysterics don’t faze him at all. He simply grabs you out of the bed, carries your directly to the car, and buckles you in.

“Stay right here,” he instructs. “I’m getting Jack and we’re going to the hospital right now.”

What seems like an eternity later, but in reality was only a few minutes, Aaron emerges from the house with Jack and the go bag.

He peels out of the driveway and drives to the nearest hospital with no regard for the speed limit.

When you arrived to the emergency entrance, you look at him with a panic stricken face.

“I’m scared, Aaron.”

“Don’t worry darling,” he says soothingly. “I’m going to get you some help.”

The next thing you know several people are helping you out of the car and loading you onto a stretcher. As they wheel you inside he follows closely behind with Jack asleep in his arms.

“What going on?” you plead.

“I don’t know, love but they’re going to help,” he reassures.

Just then you overhear a member of the medical staff informing Aaron that he’s not allowed any farther.

“What do you mean he can’t come with me?” You wail.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but bleeding is very serious. Both you and the baby could be in danger. We need to get you treatment now and we can’t have any family in the room.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says in a very calm and sure tone. “They’re going to take good care of you. Everything will be fine.”

“FINE? Nothing about this is fine!” you shout. “I can’t do this without you, Aaron.”

“Yes you can,” he replies, holding your hand. “You’re the strongest woman I know. You have to. Do it for her.” He says, placing his hand on your belly.

“We have to go now,” one of the nurses insist.

“Be strong for me okay?” He pleads, gaining a short tearful nod from you in response.

“I love you,” he calls out as they wheel you swiftly down the hall. Just before the stretcher is out of sight he hears your response.

“I love you more.”

——————————————————————————

Collapsing into a chair in the waiting area, mind racing with worry, Aaron does the only thing he can think of at the moment.

The phone rings, and then,

“Aaron! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon after a case,” Rossi says. “We don’t have plans today, do we?”

“No, Dave. It’s Y/N. We’re at the hospital.”

“Wow, I didn’t think she was due for a few more weeks.”

“She’s not,” Aaron explains, his voice beginning to break. “When we woke up, she was bleeding. From what I understand, it’s pretty serious. You’re the first person I thought to call.”

“Oh my God,” Rossi breathes. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Should I call the rest of the team?”

“Yeah, I think that would be best. I could really use some help with Jack. He’s still asleep for now, but,” Aaron pauses for a moment, choking back tears. “I don’t know what to tell him when he wakes up,” he finishes quietly.

“Just hold on, Aaron,” Rossi replies. “We’re coming.”

——————————————————————————

Within an hour, the whole BAU team was crowding the hospital waiting room. Hugs were exchanged and Aaron had handed a still sleeping Jack off to JJ.

Everyone waited in tense silence, not knowing quite what to say.

“I’m scared out my mind, Dave,” Aaron confines to him. “I can’t lose her. I’ve been through too much already. And Jack, God it would crush him if anything happened to her.”

“I think he’s waking up,” JJ whispers.

“Dad?” He asks in a daze as he wakes. “Miss JJ? Where are we?” He questions now aware of the unfamiliar surroundings.

Coming over to squat down in front of him, Aaron does his best to explain.

“Well buddy, this morning mom got sick, so we brought her to the hospital, and the doctors are taking good care of her.”

“Is she going to be okay?” he inquires. “And my baby sister?”

“I hope so, the doctors are working really hard to make mom better okay?”

“Daddy, we should say a prayer for Mama,” Jack responds. “And my baby sister too.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Jack,” Aaron responds, as he quickly turns away to wipe a tear.

The whole group gathered closely around Jack and Aaron. Everyone took turns saying prayer for the health and well being of Y/N and her unborn daughter.

Moments after the last amen was said; just when Aaron thought he would die if he waited a moment longer, a doctor came through the doors.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

Aaron stood, bracing himself for the news.

“Is it alright if I speak in front of the group?”

“Yes, they’re family. Please, just— do you have news about my wife?”

“Sir,” the doctor continues with a look of concern. “You all may want to sit down for this.”

——————————————————————————

Tag list: @ange-must-die @agenthotchner @moonstuffsteve @poetsacademia @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @less-intelligent-spencerreid @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @glizzieborden @miss-united-ace @samayoshito

[multific]

Beyond Houses

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: You had enough of the labels! Why can’t your best friend be a Hufflepuff, and why can’t you be madly in love with a certain ginger Gryffindor? 

A/N: GIF’s not mine, credit goes to its owner.

When your studies at Hogwarts began, you actually quite liked the idea of the four houses. They gave a nice aesthetic and you were sure you were in the company of people whom were similar to you.

However as the years passed you began to notice a few things.

You made friends easily, one girl, Nora who was in Hufflepuff was very close to you. You and her always went to classes together and had a lot of fun.

However when other people in Slytherin noticed you hanging out with her, they behaved like she was the enemy. You couldn’t understand why.

“Slytherin are too good for Hufflepuff.” one of the boys said.

From that day on, you hated the group. They were worse than Malfoy. Thinking they were all mighty and great because of the colours they wore and house they were in.

Little do they know that in the outside word, Hogwarts houses mean nothing.

Of course, you continued being friends with Nora. You chose your friend and would do that again.

The group however didn’t like that you ignored their warnings. In just about a few days, every person in Slytherin treated you like an outsider.

But they didn’t break you.

You were proud to be a Slytherin, however you didn’t want to be like them, close-minded. 

But the biggest shock to you was when you realized that it wasn’t just that group, other houses were the same. Gryffindor didn’t like to hang out with Slytherin, a girl rejected a boy because he was in Slytherin while she was in Ravenclaw. 

Of course, there were people who didn’t care about that. Thankfully, those were the majority, however those other cases truly confused you.

And then, it happened to you.

Your eyes were caught by a certain red-head in the Great Hall. Both you and Fred were in year six at the time. The first spark, and it ignited a fire in you.

Nora was thrilled that you finally had a crush. She thought you might not be interested in dating, so when this happened, she already had five plans on how to get you and Fred together.

Especially since it was the Triwizard Tournament, the opportunities were endless.

The only real problem was his twin, George, who was always with him.

“My plan is bullet proof, Y/N. I bet by the end he will even ask you to the dance!” she said, clearly super excited. “All we need now is to get George out of the way. I will ask him to come with me and help me with something and in the meantime, you go over there and score! Now, which one is which?” Nora asked as she looked at you.

You looked over to the two guys who were talking on a bench.

“Fred is on the right, George is on the left.” you didn’t know how, but you could tell them apart, it was a skill you were proud of. You trusted Nora, and you were sitting on your crush for months now, so it was time to act.

Nora easily got George away. Although Fred did try and go with her, she refused. So, there he was sitting on the bench alone, waiting for his brother to come back. 

It was your time to shine.

You let out a long sigh and walked out from behind the pillar, making it look like you just came around the corner. You took the steps down, however slipped on the last.

You tried to keep your balance, but you ended up falling. You were more surprised and embarrassed than hurt. 

“Are you okay?” you head Fred’s voice as he grabbed your arm and helped you up.

“I’m fine, thank you. These damn stairs are so slippery.” you said looking up at him. He laughed a little and helped you to sit on a bench.

“Well, yeah. During our first year George fell too. Thankfully you weren’t hurt.”

“Yeah. Speaking of which, where is your other half?”

“Oh, he went to help Nora with something. She said something about needing someone tall.”

“I see. So, you are all alone? If you want to we could go and have something to eat?” you didn’t know where the courage came from to ask him, but you did.

However the grimace he made, told you everything you needed to know. He will make up an excuse.

“Sorry, but I rather wait for George, I said I would be here.”

“Oh, no problem. Maybe another time?” This is when you noticed people coming and he stood up very quickly.

“Another time.” he said to you before he rushed to sit two benches away from you.

You were completely rejected, and you knew why. It wasn’t you, it was your house.

“I though you would be different you know.” you said a bit louder as you looked at him once the people have passed. You didn’t want to give them a show. Fred looked at you with round eyes. “Everyone is so judgmental, I thought you would be better. You rejected my idea because I’m Slytherin right?” Fred’s mouth opened but no sound came out. “It’s okay, I know I’m the idiot here. Having a crush on a Gryffindor... I just...Ugh, forget it,” you said as you stood up and left. You rushed back to your room and stayed in bed all day.

***

The fact that you were rejected hurt.

It hurt more than you thought it would. You hoped that Fred would see more than just houses. You hoped that he would see you and not Slytherin. Unfortunately, you were wrong.

You didn’t want to leave your room the next day, but you knew better than to not attend Snape’s class.

The whole day went on normal, you ignored everyone especially Fred as you and Nora enjoyed the day.

“We should go shopping. A new store opened at Hogsmeade and I saw some amazing new scarf and thing!”

“Sounds fun.” you said as you two left. You were unaware of a certain boy’s eyes that followed you, filled with regret. 

***

You had an amazing afternoon with Nora.

“The Ball is tomorrow! Can you believe it! I still can’t believe Steve asked me!” Steve was a Ravenclaw, very smart guy, one of the people who didn’t care about houses and he obviously had a crush on Nora for a long time now.  Meanwhile you will go with a fellow Slytherin guy who asked you out just today. 

You decided that this Yule Ball was the worst possible thing you ever participated in.

As it turned out, the guy who asked you to go with him wanted you to go with him so his ex would get jealous, not because he liked you. And in addition, you got to see everyone having fun, while you sat in the corner of the room, mopping.

Well, at least Nora was having an amazing time. 

Just as you decided to go back to your room, your eyes locked with Fred’s. It was only a second before you looked away and stood up. Just as you did, Hermione rushed out of the room, sobbing. You looked back, but no one was following him.

You found her on the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you okay?” you asked, “Silly questions, sorry. Look, I don’t know who broke your heart. But, my grandma always told me not to cry over any man. They are not worth it, the only man who worth the tears is the one you will call, son.” you offered her a kind simple before heading up the stairs. 

“Y/N,” you heard your name being yelled. You recognized the voice and against your better judgement, you stopped and looked at Fred.

“Hi Fred,” you said looking right into his eyes.

“I realize I behaved like a bloody moron the last time we spoke. It was just like you said. But I should know better that to judge people like that. You opened my eyes, I would like to apologize and to ask you on a date.”

You weren’t expecting him to be so upfront about this. But you sure didn’t mind that he wasn’t wasting your time. 

“Umm. I don’t know if I should believe you. Is this a prank?” you asked looking around, trying to see if anyone was there but the hallway was empty besides you and Fred.

“No, no prank. I’m serious. And before you think I’m only doing this to help my guilt, yeah, partially, but I also do like you. I had a crush on you since second year.”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see if he was joking or not, but you decided to give him a chance.

“Fine. Tomorrow, meet me at the Great Hall, let’s have lunch together.”

“Perfect! Thank you so much.” he rushed and gave you a hug. He tried to pull back but you didn’t let him go. This is when you noticed just how much taller he was compared to you.

After a few minutes he started swaying the two of you, the music from the Ball could be heard faintly.

“You are beautiful in this dress.”

“You don’t look too bad either.” you said with a smile and a little blush, still swaying in his arms as you hugged his torso, listening to his heart beat.

This was the exact moment you could finally feel free, free of houses, free of labels and in love.

You just knew, finally your life can begin, with Fred Weasley.

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[alinastracker]

If you’re still doing the prompts I have oneeeee hehe

" i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are. "

you got it baby 🥰

but i know something’s starting right now

It’s a sweltering Ravkan summer day, but nothing brings heat to her body like watching Mal in the pool, water droplets racing down his chest. His shaggy hair is a mop on his head, and she realizes this is what he must look like in the shower.

This is exactly why she didn’t want to bring him on the trip.

It’s the first week of July, and for the past three years, that’s meant a trip to the Os Alta Resort with Genya and Zoya. It’s a way for them to relax after exams and catch up now that they all attend different schools. But at the end of May, the two of them had FaceTimed her about a change for this year.  

“We were thinking of taking the boys with,” Genya says gently, nervous for her reaction.

Zoya is frank as ever. “It’s cheaper that way. Besides, after all this long distance, I could use a week of uninterrupted fuc—”

“Zoya!”

“Relax, Starkov. We’re all adults here.”

“Anyway,” Genya cuts in. “We’re just telling you in case you wanted to bring someone, too. Maybe Mal?”

“Mal and I aren’t dating.”

Only in her dreams.

“Might as well be,” Zoya mutters.

So in the choice between bringing Mal on what has basically turned into a couple’s retreat and going to said couple’s retreat alone, she’s chosen the former. It would be fine. Mal knows her friends. Him and Nikolai like to talk sports. Maybe it’ll be a little weird, being the only non-couple, but they could deal.

It would have been fine, if it weren’t for this morning’s check in.

"So it looks like we have you booked for three single rooms," the concierge says.

Alina frowns. "One of those should be a double."

The concierge checks again, each click of his mouse making her anxiety rise. He frowns. "Sorry, miss. It's showing me all singles."

"It's fine," Mal says. "Could we just upgrade it to a double, then?"

"Er, I'm afraid we're all booked, sir."

Nikolai claps his hands together, cheerful as ever at Zoya's side. "Well, I'll just switch with Alina, and Mal and I can — shit, Zoy!"

Zoya had stomped on his foot.

"We are not switching shit," she hisses under her breath.

Nikolai sighs. "My deadly dearest, certainly it's no big deal—"

"I bought us a new toy for this trip. We are not switching."

There is a brief moment where everyone freezes, then Genya groans, shaking her head as she murmurs apologies to the concierge, who is trying hard to pretend he hasn’t heard a thing. The tips of Mal's ears go red, and Alina is sure hers match. David, lost in his audiobook, is oblivious to all of it.

Nikolai clears his throat and turns to the two of them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, mate. You're on your own."

The concierge slowly raises a finger and says, "We might be able to supply a cot?"

Alina can feel everyone's eyes on her, which is the last thing she ever wants. She has the strong desire to curl in on herself, but that only really works in the winter when she dons large coats and sweaters. But it’s summer, and she is in only a mustard yellow crop top and jean shorts, though she suddenly feels as exposed as if she were completely naked.

Mal takes one look at her and gently nudges his foot against hers. "I mean . . . I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are?"

Her brain is looking for anyway out of this whole conversation, so she nods.

So far, they have been in their room once to drop off their things and change into bathing suits, both of them dancing around the bed without ever touching it. The air in the room feels charged even with sunlight still pouring in. What would tonight be like?

More importantly, how was she supposed to handle sleeping beside him when she can’t even handle watching him in the pool?

Genya climbs on Mal’s shoulders for a game of chicken — David is, unsurprisingly, not in the pool, but sitting beside Alina on a lounge chair. She feels a pang of something like jealousy as she watches the game commence, which cannot be more ridiculous.

They can’t avoid the night forever, and it comes much too quickly despite how long they spend mingling at the resort bar. In their room, Mal lets Alina use the bathroom first. A kind offer, she thinks, until she realizes it leaves her to stake out a spot on the bed first. No more dancing.

Left side or right? Does Mal have a preference? Does she? How long until Mal finishes in the bathroom and comes out to see her staring at the bed like a mental person?

Right side, she chooses finally. She curls up on the left side of her body usually, so this way, she doesn’t have to face him as they sleep. Good call. As she untucks the covers from the bed, she secretly hopes to find something horrifying, like blood or bugs, so they can get a refund and leave. Sadly, it is a perfectly fine bed. Alina plops onto it and tucks herself in.

Mal finishes in the bathroom a few minutes later, and if he’s as rattled about their sleeping arrangement as she is, he does not show it. There’s plenty of space between them as he settles into bed. Maybe this won’t be as bad as she feared.

“Well, goodnight,” Mal says through a yawn.

“Goodnight,” Alina replies.

They each turn off their bedside lamps. Mal is softly snoring soon after, but Alina stays awake much too long for her liking, thinking of how close he is.

They fall into a similar routine for the next couple nights. During the day, all is fine. Their little group meshes well. Genya and Nikolai are often off together, both of them on a mission, it seems, to try every flavor of ice cream from Os Alta's ice cream bar. Or sometimes it’s Nikolai and Mal running off, joining a game of pool volleyball, both of them stupidly competitive. When Zoya gets annoyed with the overload of children at the waterpark, she joins David on one of the lounge chairs to read for a while — Zoya a smutty historical romance and David a nonfiction on modern space travel. We just shouldn't let Jeff Bezos come back, he argues to Genya later, while Zoya murmurs to Nikolai something she wants him to do to her that night.

Alina thanks the saints her room isn’t next to Zoya’s.

The trip is going so smoothly that she doesn’t realize what trouble Sunday brings with it. It’s always their favorite part of the trip: bottomless margarita night. They all have absolutely horrific, hilarious pictures and videos of themselves from the past three years thanks to bottomless margarita night at Os Alta. But the thought of being drunk like that while she’s sharing a bed with Mal?

Okay, so she just won’t drink tonight. Problem solved.

“You can’t not drink!” Zoya says, personally offended.

“Come on, it’s tradition!” Genya agrees.

But she’s determined to hold out. Only when she sees the others with their drinks, she decides one sip won’t hurt. One sip becomes one drink, and one drink becomes a couple. Soon enough, she’s drunk enough to sign herself up for karaoke, another Os Alta tradition.

“I dunno what I should siiiing,” she slurs, swaying lightly on her feet.

“I have the perfect song for you!” Genya cheers excitedly.

So that’s how she ends up on stage, drunk off her ass, horridly singing Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. She really gets into it, jumping and nailing the talking parts a little too well. But she can hear Genya and Zoya screaming the lyrics along with her, and it only encourages her.

Genya records a Snapchat of her performance, snickering to Mal and David about how she’s going to accidentally send it to the asshole Alina dated last year who’s still entirely too obsessed with her.

Nikolai is the only one of the boys drunk enough to sign up, taking the stage after Alina to perform a disgustingly off-key version of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. They all agree that Freddie Mercury is rolling in his grave.

By the end of the night, the four of them are totally wasted. David, who had spent the night nursing one drink, his focus on getting Genya her drinks and ensuring that she didn’t trip over herself, has to help the aforementioned redhead up to their room. Nikolai and Zoya are a sight, both wickedly drunk, trying to help each other stay upright. Mal had only downed a couple drinks and is mostly sober, which Alina is very thankful for, as she can’t hold herself up to save her life. She nearly trips on absolutely nothing so many times that Mal finally scoops her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the room. Alina giggles the whole way. 

There’s no getting ready for bed that night. Mal sets her on the bed, and she resigns to sleeping in her red summer dress. When Mal joins her after having a shower, drunk Alina has no qualms curling up against him and sniffing him.

“Mm, you smell good,” she hums.

Mal chuckles even as he tenses. Alina has her arm around him and her face pressed into his side. He’s not sure he can breathe. She’s too drunk to notice the blush on his face.

“That’s probably just because you smell like alcohol,” he hedges.

Alina giggles and shakes her head. “No, you always smell good.”

He doesn’t know what to do with this information, but he does a lot of thinking instead of sleeping as Alina passes out next to him.

Monday morning brings with it a pounding headache for Alina. She prepares for the bright sunlight streaming through the window, but the room is dark when she opens her eyes. Mal isn’t beside her, but he left aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand in addition to pulling out the blackout curtains. She falls in love with him a little bit more. 

The day is a quiet one. The girls and Nikolai spend their time at the spa, Mal and David off doing saints know what. She gets the best massage of her life, and while her head still aches despite the pain pill, seeing Nikolai get his toenails painted bright red makes every sip she had last night worth it.

When they’re in the room again after dinner, tucking themselves into bed, Mal says, “You told me I smell good last night.”

Alina pauses. “I did?”

The night comes back to her. She totally told him he smelled good, and she had closed the space between them on the bed, curling up right next to him. She remembers all of it, suddenly and painfully.

“Oh, saints. Mal, I’m so sorry. I didn’t . . . I shouldn’t have—”

He cuts her off. “It’s okay, ‘Lina. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

Mal smiles an amused smile and leans over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “No, you don’t. Not you. Never you.”

Alina is almost positive she can hear her heart pounding as Mal reaches for something tucked in the drawer of his nightstand.

“For you,” he says, handing her a long rectangular box. “Saw it today when I was out with David and I just— I thought of you.”

She can’t even process the image of Mal and David out shopping together, needing to open this damn box. With shaky fingers, she lifts the lid. Waiting for her inside is a dainty necklace with a gorgeous gold sun charm.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Mal blushes, and this time, Alina notices. “Do you like it?” he asks. “I just thought of you singing last night when I saw it. You’re so bright, Alina. All the time. Just like the sun.”

She has no idea what this confession means, or how she earned it from drunkenly telling him how good he smells — which his really quite good — but her heart has kicked into overdrive. She isn’t sure what, or how, but she knows something’s starting right now.

“I love it, Mal.” She turns so her back is facing him and hands over the necklace. “Will you help me put it on?”

He wraps the chain around her neck. The sun rests perfectly against her heart. She notices every little brush of his fingers against the back of her neck as Mal works the clasp.

When the necklace is secure, they both lay back down, noticeably closer this time. Not as close as last night, but close enough that their arms occasionally brush, close enough that she’ll end up kicking him during the night. Alina sleeps on her right side. 

Their trip might be ending tomorrow, but something better was beginning tonight.

[kingandfireheart]

Starfall

A/N: this one had been sitting in drafts for a while, but it a part of my whole "Sarah robbed of us two months of HAPPY Nessian" thing, so enjoy, I guess!

'Summary: This one is basically all the scenes that could have happened instead of in addition to the Amren apology on Starfall. It's fluffy. It's a lot of the Inner Circle. There's a Mor apology. There's a sweet Az moment. And of course happy established Nessian. Clearly all of these things wouldn't happen in one night. But its fanfiction, so you know. Mostly canon-compliant.

Words: 2274

A few minutes after Amren left her side, Nesta felt two people approach. She didn’t need to turn her head to know exactly who it was.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it” Elain spoke, her voice full of awe.

“It’s beautiful” Nesta rasped, as her sisters came to either side of her.

“Did I ever tell you two about my first Starfall?” Feyre asked.

Nesta shook her head. “It was before I had accepted the bond. Rhys and Mor didn’t tell me what to expect at all, so when some of this,” she gestured to her silver streaked cheek, “landed on my face, I thought I was going to lose an eye.”

“Rhys wouldn’t stop laughing at me and I nearly chucked him over the balcony. But... this view and his laughter made me realize that I wanted to paint again. That after everything that happened under the mountain and with Tamlin, I was ready to accept this life... to live.”

“I think that’s why Starfall is so special, right?” Elain said, “it reminds of the beauty of this life, even if it wasn’t what we originally planned”

“The Priestesses said there are spirits passing through or something, but I like your explanation much better” Nesta said, chuckling softly.

“I know things have been tough between the three of us, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And I’m glad that you’re both doing better and that we're together." Feyre said, laying a hand over her stomach. "All I want for him is to be surrounded by family, and to give him the childhood we never had.”

“He will be very loved,” Elain said, happily.

“By both of his aunts” Nesta added. “We can teach him to read, and dance, and garden.”

“And how to deal with his annoying uncles” Feyre added, looking over Nesta’s shoulder, at where Cassian and Mor were dancing.

Nesta laughed. The idea of Cassian playing with a child was... exciting, adorable... and something she would have to think about later.

“Enjoy yourself” Feyre said, pulling Nesta, and Elain, into a hug.

"I missed this” Elain said quietly. "Come find me if you need anything."

Then both sisters smiled, disappeared into the crowd.

------

Nesta turned back to the view before her, taking it in, appreciating her sisters and Amren, and how far she'd come.

“Five hundred years, and I’ll never get used to the sight” Mor said from behind her, startling her back to reality. "I thought you could use some refreshments" she said.

Nesta laughed, turning to her, and accepting the cup of water he extended to her.

"Thank you." she said,

"I suppose I could have dressed up for the occasion" she shrugged.

“I would have loved to dress you up again, but it’s not like we won’t have more occasions for that” Mor said. "Plus, it doesn't feel right if someone isn't in leathers." She added.

Nesta smiled softly, unsure what to say.

“I wanted to apologize” Mor said suddenly. “For what I said, how I treated you. I thought I was being protective and you deserved better than that. I’m really sorry”.

Nesta shook her head in disbelief, “I judged you before getting to know you, and I’m sorry for that.” She said sincerely.

“I heard you cut the ribbon and completed the blood rite qualifier. That's impressive." She said. "I would have loved to see the look on Devlon's face."

"He didn't seem pleased" Nesta said. Mor was one of the best warriors out there, Nesta assumed this was a part of her training too, "I've seen you in battle...Have you never....?"

"Only as a training exercise, but I never beat it on my own. You need a unit to win something like that. I hear you have a pretty impressive one."

"They're wonderful. I think you'd like them."

"Maybe we can get to know each other better during training?” Mor offered. Nesta saw it for what it was. A peace offering. They would put the past beside them for Cassian and Feyre.

“I’d like that, Mor.” Nesta said, and she would.

Mor squeezed her shoulder, and said, “The dress I got for you should be in your rooms, if you want to wear it later” she said, and then sauntered off. "

---

“Here,” Azriel said, extending the plate to her. “The party will last until sunrise, so you should eat ”

Nesta nodded in thanks as she accepted the plate. Was Azriel... fussing?

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." Azriel said, elbowing her softly, as he moved toward the railing."I prefer this version of you. Real. No masks or disguises."

Nesta added dryly, “And covered in sweat" Azriel laughed at that. "I don't know how Feyre wears the crown, I hated it."

Azriel laughed, mischief in his eyes, "They do say heavy is the head that wears the crown."

"I prefer you without masks too, Az". Nesta said before she could stop herself.

Azriel smiled softly, and gestured to her food. She picked up a few berries and cheese.

When she was finished, he asked, "Would you care to dance?" extending his hand to her, his siphon gleaming in the light.

Nesta took his hand, and let him lead her to the crowd, where the others were dancing.

Even as exhausted as she was from training and the stairs, she enjoyed every moment of dancing with Azriel, as she had done on Solstice. Azriel led her, easily.

"Is it always like this? the party? she asked after a few moments.

"Mostly. We didn't use to have guests from other courts, but since the world knows about Velaris, I think Feyre and Rhys saw it as an opportunity to share."

"I like it. I think you were right about holidays" Nesta said, into Azriel's shoulder.

"I'm glad." Azriel said.

He was right. Feyre was right. This was life, this was living. The music. The view. The friendships. Her family.

She didn't say anything else, comfortable to enjoy the music and Azriel's company as they danced.

---

At some point, Helion had stepped in for Azriel.

"Lady Nesta." Helion greeted her.

"High Lord" Nesta responded.

"Interesting attire for a party" he said.

"Training ran late" Nesta said, shrugging slightly.

"Is that what Cassian is calling it nowadays?" Helion joked. Nesta blushed. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. The General Commander and Lady Death." he mused.

Nesta said nothing in response, just returned his gaze, as if to say your point?

"I didn't quite believe the stories about your dancing, Lady" Helion started.

"What kinds of stories?" Nesta asked.

"I heard you brought Eris to his knees at Solstice." Helion said.

"I may have danced with him." She responded smugly.

"Is that a part of your training? Bringing commanders and high lord to their knees by way of dance? When you aren't too busy wielding Made objects?"

Before she could respond, she felt claws, scrape against her shields. While Rhys's were usually like midnight, Feyre's were different. She lowered her shields enough to hear her sister.

If you would like someone to save you from Helion, say the word. He's rather persistent tonight.

I'll let you know.

Nesta snapped closed her shields before responding, proudly. "I'm actually training with a small group of female warriors."

"Ah yes, your sister mentioned to Vivianne that you're resurrecting the Valkyries" he said as he spun her.

"We're combining Illyrian techniques with Valkyrie ones." she said.

"Impressive" he said. "The Valkyries were formidable. Once you're organized, perhaps you'd enjoy seeing the Day court's female forces. Lady Vivianne has been helpful since the war." He said, looking where Kallias and Vivianne were dancing.

"I'll think about it." She said. Maybe she wasn't ready to face the real world yet, but maybe... in a few months, or years even, she could be ready, and Gwyn and Emerie could be too.

"And if you ever tire of the Cassian"

FEYRE, she practically yelled in her head, throwing open her shields. She knew exactly where this was going.

"or want someone else to join you..."

FEYRE. HELP.

"and your m-"

"I think I'd like to dance with my sister-in-law" Rhysand said smoothly. Before she knew it, Rhysand was sweeping Nesta into the dance, barely a beat missed.

"Think about both my offers" Helion said from behind her.

---

Rhysand laughed, and in this light, with the silver on his face, Nesta could see what her sister described. A light that had been less present the past few months.

"See. Persistent" Rhysand said. "He made a similar offer to Feyre, Azriel, and Mor within an hour of arriving."

"Why doesn't that shock me?" Nesta said. "I'm surprised you cut in."

"Feyre promises. I deliver." he said. "I'm surprised you came tonight" Rhysand responded.

"I live here. I just climbed the stairs" she said dryly, before deciding to make an effort. "Thank you, for rescuing me" she said quietly. Rhysand seemed a bit shocked to hear her.

"Helion is unrelenting." He explained. "I didn't think Cassian would appreciate another male asking me for you hand... And I thought I owed you...After Eris...And threatening you."

"You did, but thank you nonetheless." Rhysand nodded.

They continued dancing for the rest of the song. Nesta didn’t speak, and neither did Rhys, but his eyes had lit up with amusement, as the song came to an end.

"Mor, you owe me 50 gold marks." Rhys said, as he spun Nesta away.

---

Before she understood his meaning, she landed in Cassian’s arms, but not in a position for dancing. Cassian’s arms were around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder, as her back pressed to his chest.

"Hi." he said.

“Enjoying the party?” Nesta asked coyly, as she turned to face him.

“I am now.” Cassian said, placing a kiss to her temple. When he pulled away, his lips were covered in the starfall dust. He guided her away from the dance floor, where Mor had taken her place in dancing with Rhysand.

Nesta smiled and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, only pulling away when her legs screamed in pain. She supposed completing the Blood Rite qualifier, climbing down and up 10,000 steps, and dancing would have that effect on her calves.

Cassian wasted no time in picking her up fully, cradling her to his chest. Nesta gasped in surprise, and then looked sheepishly out to the rest of the party.

“They’ve seen us do much worse, Nes” She laughed and Cassian joined her, brushing his lips to hers once more, as if he wanted to taste that smile. She may always be a little embarrassed by what had happened when she scried. But things were different then- they were together now, and the way Cassian was looking at her now... it was, well it was better than any wine she'd consumed in the past year.

“I suppose they have,” she said, hiding her face in his chest. She let herself enjoy the moment, savor how it felt to be held by him.

Cassian laughed, "It should be winding down now, but there is a better view, if you would like to get out of here."

Nesta nodded.

Cassian flew up to the higher balcony that overlooked the Verdana. "Rhys and Feyre usually hide up here, but they are too busy playing hosts tonight" he said, before setting her down on a blanket, only to pull her into his lap moments later.

She reached up to brush some of his hair out of his face. "You look nice," she said, running her other hand over his cheek, where the starfall dust collected.

"And you're beautiful" he replied, smiling. It was not too long ago that Cassian had struggled to compliment Feyre, and now he hardly hesitated before saying such things. Nesta felt her cheeks redden.

"You’ve had an eventful night” Cassian said. “I thought I'd barely get a chance to dance with you”

Nesta snorted. “I prefer this” she said, leaning into him further.

“I’m in awe of you” Cassian whispered, as his fingers pulled her hair from its messy braid. “You’ve come so far. Conquered so much”

“Thank you.” Nesta said. “For doing it all with me.” Nesta turned in his lap to face him fully, her hair now falling over her shoulders.

“Always” Cassian said, before bringing his lips to her first kiss. “I’m yours. And you’re mine. No matter how many pretty males you dance with.”

“You could have stepped in at any point in time.” she said.

"The others placed bets on how long it would take for me to step in... and I wanted you to enjoy tonight, for this to be a good memory for you.”

“It is. I'm happy” she said softly.

“You’re happy?” He whispered, a half question. She kissed him in response.

"I'm happy too." Cassian said.

"And you're prettier than them." she whispered. Running her thumbs over the silver that coated his lips, and likely coated hers as well.

"Really?" Cassian asked, almost incredulously.

"It was always you, Cass" she said, as it wasn't even a question, because it wasn't. Since they met they were two forces on a collision course, nothing she could have done would have stopped it.

"And I always knew it would be you, Nes" he said, before kissing her again.

She didn’t know how long they stayed there, but after the stars had stopped falling, and the sun began to rise, Cassian carried them back to her rooms.

Nesta fell asleep absolutely exhausted by the day she had. Her body ached, but her heart, her soul, was happy. It was one of the best days since she’s become fae, likely before that even.

[sophiashortcake]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 🍰

“I GUESS I’M JUST A PLAY DATE TO YOU.”

previous ❀ series masterlist

𝟐𝟕. epilogue

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: kicked out of her home with no place to go, y/n is forced to move into her family friend’s home, who coincidentally is also the family of tsukishima kei, the boy who denied her confession.

𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑...

“Okay, so I believe you screw this piece and that piece together and- BOKUTO-SAN NO!”

Everyone collectively groaned as Bokuto sheepishly held the now broken piece of what was going to be your headboard. Akaashi sighed and put down the Ikea furniture manual to rub his temples. Now the headboard was added to the list of furniture casualties along with the coffee table and nightstand (also broken by Bokuto).

“I thought it would be faster if I just tried popping it into place!” He whined, defending his terrible handyman skills and all too clumsy strength.

Your friends had volunteered to help you and Kei build the furniture for your new apartment, which turned out to be a harder task than you once thought. You all had spent the last few hours sitting on the floor of your new apartment surrounded by the clutter of move-in boxes and stray Ikea furniture parts.

“I think we’re gonna have to sleep on a bed with no headboard,” you sighed.

“It’s not like we weren’t gonna break it ourselves anyway,” Kei muttered, flipping through the instruction manual he had snatched away from Akaashi. Kei realized his comment wasn’t as quiet as he thought as everybody snapped their heads to his. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“Get a room!” Yamaguchi screeched, feigning disgust.

“Uh, you’re sitting in it,” Kuroo replied.

Before the teasing got relentless, a loud bang was heard out in the living room along with the sounds of harsh drags across the floor, and groans.

“For the love of god, can somebody help me and Oikawa out here?!” Iwaizumi called, “I think this couch weighs more than Y/N!”

You sighed in relief, thankful the subject changed. Everybody got up and flooded into the living room to help Iwaizumi and Oikawa get the couch into the living room (where Bokuto’s strength actually helped for once).

Though you couldn’t afford much on a college student’s salary, a home was starting to take form inside the apartment. You grinned at the sight, giddy excitement bubbling in your stomach. You truly couldn’t be happier.

“I think it’s coming along very nicely Y/N,” Kiyoko grinned, “but don’t you two think it’s a little soon to be moving in which each other?”

“Yoko, it’s not like we haven’t lived with each other before,” you deadpanned, “and plus, it saves us money since we’re still in school.”

“Ah, that’s true,” she chuckled, remembering the living together ordeal that brought you and Kei together in high school.

It was crazy to think that a few years ago, you and Kei had been quarrelling in the same house, wanting nothing more for you to move out. But now, you both were moving in with each other. Even when you lived separately, you came to realize that Kei was your home.

“I can’t wait until we start decorating!” Yachi squealed, clapping her hands together in excitement imagining all the possible decorations.

“You two decorating is my nightmare,” Kei sighed. You whacked his shoulder lightly, pouting.

“Y/N-chan, if you ever get annoyed by Tsukki, my door is always open!” Oikawa sang, receiving an eye roll from Iwaizumi.

“Get in line,” Kuroo retorted. “Y/N would rather live with me! My apartment is way better.”

Kuroo had also purchased an apartment recently, at an eerily cheap price. With such a small price tag, you would assume that the apartment was going to be barely a closet, but in reality, it was even nicer than your own (and you and Kei had saved up a hefty amount from your own jobs). Kei had warned him that apartments that nice didn’t come cheap without a reason, but Kuroo had shrugged it off under the premise that he was a broke college student who didn’t have many options.

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t we remember that I offered Y/N to live with me first back in high school?!” Bokuto protested.

“Can you all please back off on my girlfriend?” Kei grumbled.

“Aww, Kei loves me!” You teased, clinging to his arm trying to peck his cheek. He dodged your kiss, his cheeks tinged red.

“Still a tsundere,” Akaashi sighed.

“He always will be,” Yamaguchi chuckled. “It’s Tsukki we’re talking about here.”

The next few hours you finished up building the furniture, or at least attempted to. As it turns out, none of your friends were exactly handymen.

“Finally!” You groaned, as the last piece was screwed in for your shelf.

With the finishing touches on the apartment, the night was drawing to a close. Kiyoko and Yachi wrapped you into a hug and pecked your cheek before they left. Iwaizumi ruffled your hair, telling you and Kei not to act up too much while you were alone. Bokuto and Yamaguchi excitedly discussed the possibilities of a group sleepover (which Kei wasn’t exactly excited for, but knew he wasn’t getting out of). Akaashi gave you both a hefty lecture on proper behavior for living alone without “parental supervision”. (Both of you were adults with jobs!)

Slowly the apartment grew empty besides for you, Oikawa, and Kuroo and Kei who were having a discussion about Kuroo’s suspicious new apartment. While you were sorting through the move in boxes, Oikawa pulled you aside.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say I’m happy for you,” he grinned.

Over the course of time, Oikawa learned to get over you, and owned up to his mistakes. Slowly but surely, he regained your trust, and even Kei’s as they grew a strange frenemy relationship. Now there was nothing but platonic love and trust between you two, the past behind you both.

“Thank you, Tooru,” you smiled, pulling him inside a hug.

“But if Tsukishima ever acts up-”

“Shut it Shittykawa!” Kei called from across the apartment.

“He and Iwaizumi have been spending too much time together,” you sighed.

Oikawa laughed, and pulled out of the hug. You smiled, knowing Oikawa truly was happy for you both.

Before he walked out the door, he clapped Kei on the back.

“Don’t forget your promise,” he warned, wagging a finger at him.

“I won’t,” Kei replied, rolling his eyes.

Kuroo was the next to leave, finishing his conversation with Kei.

“You two better help me move in next week!” Kuroo exclaimed, before leaving the apartment. You both chuckled and agreed as you finished bidding your goodbyes.

Now the apartment finally was empty, besides for you and Kei.

“What promise did you and Oikawa make?” You asked curiously.

“Something back in high school, don’t worry about it.”

You raised an eyebrow, those two were definitely hiding something.

“Speaking of high school, wait here, I have something for you,” he said, before running off to the bedroom to dig out something from the move in boxes. He pulled out a worn piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he handed it to you. You studied it carefully before realizing it was the confession letter you had written in high school.

“I thought I lost this!” You gasped. While you lived with Kei, you kept it stashed in your desk drawer, but you assumed you had lost it somehow while you were moving out of Kei’s house.

“You left it in your desk at my house, I kept it,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Even after all these years?” You giggled.

“Yeah, I felt like it was too important to throw out.”

You scanned over your letter, the nostalgia washing over you as you softly smiled at the memories. However, you noticed over the bright red D minus sprawled over the corner was crossed out, now replaced by an A plus.

“Why is the grade different?” you questioned, confused.

“I regraded it, A plus for effort,” he said.

“Kei,” you whined, your heart swelling. He really has grown over the years, hasn’t he?

“But don’t get me wrong, your spelling and grammar still suck.”

But obviously, it wouldn’t be your Tsukishima Kei if he didn’t throw in one of his comments too.

“Jerk!” You hollered, smacking his head as he cackled. You pouted as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭: the letter is now framed in the apartment next to the framed pictures of y/n and tsukki throughout the years.

𝐚/𝐧:

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚:

• the idea came from itazura na kiss, i based mine specifically off the kdrama.

• miyagitea was originally supposed to be either an oc, suga, or yamaguchi. @/wisteriarain talked me out of it and suggested oikawa.

• the original idea was for this to be a manager!reader x tsukki smau with no letter, living together, etc. they were originally just supposed to hate eachother right out the gate and have a fuck buddy relationship.

• the next idea was based off good morning call and that tsukki and y/n were both college students who got scammed by their new apartment complex and ended up having to live together.

• y/n mother’s (hayami) and akane’s relationship was based off my mom and her best friend.

• y/n’s mother’s contact name, mama bear, is my mom’s best friend’s nickname.

• i considered having a female antagonist/oc to play y/n’s rival for tsukki.

• i didn’t write y/n having a father figure and barely wrote about tsukishima’s (even though he was in the picture) because i find it uncomfortable to write about father figures.

• this was only ever mentioned in an ask, but y/n’s mother is a lawyer!

• i came up with the idea driving home from the orthodonist and i passed a building that said, “asian volleyball association”.

• miyagitea almost didn’t make it into the story, it was a last minute addition.

• the title came before the plot, it was based off the melanie martinez song.

• there is bonus material on the masterlist! the dress from chapter 21 inspiration and official playlist can be found there!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡!): @sinistersith @moronsuke @yougivemebutterfliess @saturnfarie @peachiikichu @what-happens-inside-the-box @nonoszrk @cece-lives-here @belli-jelly @cvlliesstuff @ack-aashi @mindofess @virgoamajiki @natsukitakama @shimy-deko @irenevyas @virgoamajiki @toaster-stick @little-dark-empress @h0ngh0ngh0ng @freyafolkvangr @winunk @estmagnifique @thechaosoflonging @ilovesupersoldiers @simpletype @burntcilantro @starrydaisy @animatedrapture @intothatbluebluesky @resetrestartandreplay @lostmarimoismyhubby @witcherydotcom @kukiisan @not-venice @grapesauze @amberisnotcrazy @tarasaoristark @ammemuts @cloudymotel @loving-unicorns106 @strawberryssel @kakaokenma @cadelinha-de-haikyuu @wowie-issa-me-amario @pruemania @vitalthot @kageyamasgirl @abswrites @kac-chowsballs

[coldmilkcreamery]

Luminescent Moonlight

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: nct dream x male reader 🥀🌹

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1862

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: y/n sneaks out of the dorms every friday night. the dreamies notice and follow him only to find out that…

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀: degradation; swearing

𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 🌙

𝗮/𝗻: uhh... idk how to feel about this? at first i was proud of it but now reading it i'm like... meh but enjoy ig ^^ this marks the last day of our launch week, which means we won't be posting daily anymore :(( we have 2 requests and we're working on them, if you have any feel free to drop it at the ask box !! good night <33

> 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 <

-

Both hands on the clock point at 12 again, signaling Y/N’s departure from the NCT dorms. As their newest and youngest member, Y/N was thought of as the sweetest, purest, and on top of all, most respectable member of NCT. He graduated Neo High with honors, was friendly on campus and auditioned for SM only once, unlike the sea of trainees who had to audition for more than three times. Because of this, he was viewed as this innocent prince once SM told the boys that he would be joining NCT. But, just like any cliché scenario, none of them knew of what Y/N did in the dead of night, when the moonlight shone on the city and no one knew him, not even by his silhouette.

✦ 𝙨𝙞𝙭 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 ✦

“Has anyone noticed Y/N during the weekends recently? He usually isn't sleeping on his bed when he’s supposed to be.” Shotaro asks, genuinely worried about him.

“He probably just goes to the comfort room and stays in there for the whole night or something, no biggie.” Jeno says sarcastically, shoving a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth as he blabs his mouth.

“Hm,” Jisung mumbles, skeptical of Y/N’s actions, “there is definitely something up with him.” Jisung wasn’t one to get jealous often but with the addition of Y/N into NCT, the beloved, innocent, has-never-committed-a-sin Y/N, the attention wasn’t on him anymore. He was a tad bit jealous, but he would never admit that out loud.

“So what do you wanna do about it then?” Jeno replies, still staring straight at the television playing Titanic, “Confront him about it? It’s not like he’s gonna budge. What are you gonna do then, force him to tell you? Huh?”

“Quit being an asshole Jen.” Jaemin slaps Jeno sitting beside him, a frown on his face.

“How about we just, you know, pretend to sleep and wait till he gets up and leaves, then follow him?” Sungchan suggests, equally as worried as Shotaro. Both the former and the latter know how hard it is to be new members of a group that has already debuted. So, they felt the need to let Y/N know that he didn’t have to keep leaving the dorms, for an escape or whatever.

“Then it’s decided,” Jeno speaks up, finally peeling his eyes off the television, “tonight, we find out what the fuck Y/N has been doing for the past 6 weeks.”

✦ 𝙨𝙞𝙭 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 ✦

Y/N rises up from his bed, making extra effort not to make a noise. He grabs the hickory duffle bag from under his bed and unzips it to check if he’s had everything for his night out ready. He zips it back just seconds after and drapes it over his shoulder, getting ready to leave. He pulls his hoodie up and ties his black converses before opening the wooden door and leaving the Dream Dorms, oblivious to the boys’ plans.

Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, Sungchan, Shotaro and Jisung are led from the warmth of their dorms into the cold autumn night as they follow the figure wearing a black hoodie in front of them. The 8 boys walk for what seems like hours, crossing street to street, going through alley to alley, main road to main road as they do nothing but stay in silence and tail the (H/C) boy in front of them. They don’t know how many neon signs they’ve passed by now, only noticing how red ones become more and more evident as they venture deeper into the city.

“I think we’re in the red light district.” Haechan blurts, being met with shushes from the 7 other boys he was with. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Y/N of course, who pauses and turns around, only to look at a dark, empty street behind him. Y/N furrows his brows, confused, as he resumes his amble towards his destination.

Hiding behind garbage bins, the 8 boys sit in disgust as they hide from Y/N, scared of being caught halfway through their stalking session. Haechan peeks his head out and speaks up once again, but this time quietly, “The coast is clear.” All 8 stand up synchronized, noses scrunched as they glare at Haechan.

“No shit sherlock,” Chenle whisper-shouts, hues of scarlet and crimson decorating his face, “it’s red everywhere! Of course we’re in the red light district!”

The others giggle as they stare at Chenle.

“No, you dumbass,” Haechan replies calmly, “a red light district is like a place full of clubs and.. you know…” He trails off as the other seven’s brows furrow.

“Let’s not jump into conclusions,” Sungchan cuts him off, remaining positive, “let’s just keep following him.”

They sneak behind Y/N once again, trying their best not to get caught. It was only a minute or two before they saw Y/N turn a corner. The 8 slowly creeped up on the opening of the alley, just in time to see Y/N enter a building with an indigo sign, which stood out in the sea of bright, neon red signs.

“You don’t think… he’s a…” Jaemin spoke up as all of them shared a glance. The eight of them stood in silence, too scared to speak up, under the illusion that Y/N may be a male stripper. That wouldn’t be a problem but he was… 17.

“Only one way to find out.”

♪♪♪♪...

The deafening music boomed from the speakers, resonating into the indigo aesthetic of the club. Contrary to the word, this side of the club was the opposite of aesthetic: sweaty bodies stuck together, giving the 8 boys an unsettling feeling. They had almost started contemplating on leaving the said club, but not before Jaemin spots a quiet section, free of the sweaty bodies grinding against each other. It wasn’t free of people, per se, as there were a few people making out here and there, but it definitely wasn’t as congested as the indigo dance floor they had previously stood on. They saw vacant seats at the bar and, just like anyone who had been walking and hiding for 30 minutes, took a seat. All 8 of them had their backs turned away from the bar as a familiar voice spoke up.

“What can I get for you?” Y/N asks, a smile forced on his face. Y/N’s blue velvet suit shimmers under the spinning disco ball, exhibiting various accents of blue. Azure, cobalt and lapis and sapphire compliment Y/N’s face as he looks down, glass in one hand and towel on the other, wiping. He’s wearing nothing but a blue velvet blazer as a top, chest out as if he was as the beach. The boys turn around, mouths agape and unable to speak. They lock eyes with Y/N when the latter looks up due to the long, uncomfortable silence, eyes wide open, his body frozen in shock.

Attempting to cover his exposed chest, Y/N drops the glass and immediately places his hands flat on his chest, the feeling of fear, embarrassment and surprise devouring him.

“Y/N what the fuck?” Jeno blows up, completely losing his self control, “What the fuck are you doing in this… this.. strip club? You’re sev-”

Y/N unsticks his palms from his chest and re-sticks it onto Jeno’s mouth, shushing the older. “Shhh. let’s…” he pans his eyes from left to right, staring into his hyung’s disappointed faces, “let’s talk outside. Wait for me.”

The boys head towards the exit as they pass by the cramped dance floor once again, the silver disco ball spinning endlessly above them. They exit the club, the chilly breeze of the autumn night slapping them on the face once again as they step out. They wait in silence, leaning on the wall, occasionally staring at the indigo sign above them. Just as Chenle was about to break the silence, the cushioned doors of the club open slowly, revealing a boy in a more decent outfit. Y/N steps out, head burning holes into the stone floor. As soon as the doors of the club seal shut, all 8 of them went into chaos.

“What the fuck?”

“Is this what you’ve been doing for the past 6 weeks?”

“What are you doing with your life?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually a fucking stripper. What made SM recruit a stripper?”

He let himself get scolded but got caught off guard when Jisung uttered those words. “Wait, stripper?” Y/N looks up from the now-molten floor, eyebrows furrowed, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, “I— how could you even call me that?”

“Don’t act like you didn't have your chest on display before we got there.” Jisung replies, disgust written on his face, “Is this really what you've been doing for the past month and a half? Whoring yourself out? I guess you love people’s attention on your body don’t you?”

The gates of the dam that had held his tears finally gave out, spilling endlessly as Y/N tried to find his words, “I— that’s just the uniform for us bartenders… I work in a club so… we’re required to—”

“Exactly Y/N!” Jaemin shouts, “You’re 17 for fucks sake, why the fuck are you working at a bar? You’re a fucking idol! You're going to be publicly announced as a new member next month! What if people start recognizing you, huh? Then what?”

“I-I’m sorry hyungs. I—” tears gushed from Y/N’s orbs, coating his face, “I just did this for money.” Disgusted looks turned to looks of confusion as the 8 boys stared at Y/N, puzzled.

“M-my mom is in the hospital, she’s dealing with stage iii breast cancer and,” Y/N says, shaking, unable to complete a sentence without stopping, “and my family couldn’t afford the hospital bills, and the company wasn’t paying me yet– and I– I couldn’t wait any longer so when I saw a poster one day, looking for a bartender, I applied and lied about my age. Hyungs I’m really sorry, I- I didn’t do it because- because I liked putting my body on display. To be honest I was really uncomfortable but– but I would do anything for my mom and—”

Y/N pauses as he feels a warmth envelope him, curing his heart’s hypothermia. “We’re sorry. You know we can always lend you a hand, right?” Jaemin says, regretting his thoughts. Renjun adds to the two boys hugging, then Shotaro, then Chenle, and soon enough, all 9 of them are one; all hugging it out in a giant fluff ball, in the aged alleyway under the moonlight.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung states, voice softer as ever, “for calling you that. And, I know your mom is strong, she’ll get through this.”

Y/N felt warmer, and suddenly, under the moonlight, all his worries and doubts vanished. Nothing was more calming than a hug from the 8 boys he loved the most. They stayed like that for as long as Y/N needed, the moonlight’s luminescence lingering in the air.

End.

-

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙: 01.11.21

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙: 01.12.21

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Ok so, I was rewatching “Still” the other day (because why not), and I had somewhat of a realization. So bare with me, because you’ve probably already covered this, but I wanted to bounce a new theory off of you. So it’s pretty obvious that the entire episode of Still is full of foreshadowing (both visual and verbal) about Daryl’s character arc, Beth’s character arc, and their story arc together. To the point where almost everything they say to each other that is a prediction of sorts, comes to pass at some point later on in TWD. The Daryl Origins episode even put emphasis on it by closing with Beth’s last man standing prediction. For example starting with the Never Have I Ever game that they play, Beth says she’s never shot a crossbow before, then she does one episode later. This continues with Daryl’s “I’ve never been outa Georgia” which he does right after Beth dies. Daryl does something he regrets (his outburst) while drunk about two minutes later. As for Daryl’s “never been on a vacation before” I interpret this to be when they get to Alexandria and for the first time don’t have to fight to survive and he has nothing to do (at least for a minute). Then of course Beth’s I’ve never been a prisoner comment comes to pass for both of them (her at Grady and him at Neegan’s compound). Then of course Daryl has his outburst and says five more nevers “he’s never had frozen yogurt, a pet pony, got anything from Santa clause, cut his wrists, or sang in front of a group” so I’m gunna come back to those which are directly part of my theory. So other big verbal foreshadowings are how Daryl says she’ll never see Maggie again and she doesn’t, Beth saying he’ll miss her when she’s gone (which I personally think her death is the most devastated we’ve seen Daryl, Rick was a close second), and her prediction that he will be the last man standing. Now the five additional nevers are what I want to talk about, I heard somewhere (I can’t confirm where so I’m not sure how credible this is) that the original plan was for Daryl to cut his wrists in some way while mourning Beth in the moment where he instead burns himself. And that they changed it, because the latter way was more fitting. Now the last four nevers have not come to pass unlike all the other foreshadowing lines. Daryl rides his motorcycle, not a horse like everyone else, he hasn’t had frozen yogurt, and we’ve never seen them have a Christmas, and he doesn’t sing (obviously). So my theory is that all these things, could come to pass in the commonwealth, with perhaps the accompaniment of Beth. I haven’t seen the newest episode yet, so I don’t know a lot about Daryl roles this season with the commonwealth, but I feel like it’s a place where frozen yogurt, a pet pony, and a gift from Santa Claus could all come to pass. And perhaps the singing bit could be connected to Beth. Sorry that was long, I’d love to know what you think.

Yeah definitely. I really like everything you've laid out here. The "I Nevers" have been talked about a lot over the seasons, and there are definitely some of them that don't seem to have been fulfilled yet.

I was actually thinking the CW could be the "vacation." In tonight's episode (11x10) Carol says something about how the CW was already up and running before TF got there, so they probably won't have to do anything to keep it that way. Daryl is skeptical, but so far it's true. We also see Judith acting more like a girl her age in our world would, wearing dresses, doing her hair, making friends, etc. It really does feel like a vacation from the zombie apocalypse. Though of course, none of us really expects it to last long.

You're totally right about the frozen yogurt. We've already seen Eugene eat ice cream, so...

I'm not sure about the pet pony. Many people thought maybe Buttons fulfilled that I Never. I can see it either way. Buttons was never really Daryl's pet, so I'm not sure how important the details are there. Maybe his pet pony I never did point to Buttons. Maybe there's something else still to come. I'm honestly not sure.

The Santa Clause thing is interesting. I'll talk more about this in my analysis of 11x10, but they actually go out of their way to tell us exactly what season it is. And TWD has never done that before except in a general weather pattern sort of way. We think that's important for exactly the reason you said here: we know pretty much exactly how far they are from Christmas, and it's not far. And if Beth returns at Christmastime in the show...

I'm very curious as to how the "singing out in public" thing will be fulfilled. I definitely think it has to do with Beth. For the record, we also see plenty of music, including records, at the CW. 😉

So yes, while we can't know precisely what the fulfillments of Daryl's statements will be, I think you're definitely on the right track, and I totally agree! Xoxo! ❄️💞

[perriewinklenerdie]

Photograph (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,8 k

Summary: Claire and Ethan attend Naveen’s birthday party ft. jealous Ethan

Warnings: None (though MSWord told me that ‘bastard’ might be offensive to my readers so who knows)

A/N: @justanotherrookie​ look, I made it :D it’s an honor to be considered your friend, you slay my life, pls continue to do so <3

A large clothing bag was thrown over his shoulder as he strode towards his office. The light of the day was slowly giving way to the dimness of the evening. Ethan exchanged his working clothes and a white coat for a tux, hair styled meticulously and an alluring scent of his cologne filling the air around him.

He expected her to be waiting for him inside, but upon entering the room, he noticed her absence. Before he could reach for his phone to call her, the door opened and a very frenzied and out of breath Claire appeared. Their eyes locked and she breathed out in relief at the sight of him.

“Sorry I’m late, our patient in 507 needed additional tests run and then there was hold up in the lab and I couldn’t get the results fast enough- “

“Take a breath, baby, calm down.” He laughed under his breath, wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer. She stared up at him for a moment, then stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. She let out a low hum of contentment.

“Mmh Ethan Ramsey, the best tranquilizer known to humankind.” Claire complimented, brushing her nose against his. “I’m not sharing with anyone, though.”

“Spoken like a true addict. Though, I have to say…” he gripped her hips tighter, smirking at the way her pupils dilated slightly at the motion. “You’re addictive too.”

She leaned up to kiss him again only for her lips to meet his cheek when his head turned. Slightly confused, she leaned away to look at him.

“If you kiss me again, we’ll never make it to the party.” He muttered, stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Go get ready, there’s still time.”

It takes her entire twenty minutes for her to put her dress and shoes on, touch up her makeup and tame her hair. Ethan was waiting for her by the wall, his head rising to look at her when she came back. His breath got caught in his throat for a split second, awe induced by her entire being stopping his thought process momentarily.

He walked over to her, smoothing out one unruly lock of hair, his over hand tracing the edge of the cleavage of her dress.

“I take it you like it?” Claire grinned, toying with the lapel of his jacket. He hummed affirmatively, bringing her closer to his side as they began walking.

“If it wasn’t for the party, I would have shown you just how much.”

~

Naveen, unlike his protégé, liked to celebrate his birthday. He didn’t manage to organize himself a party every year, so he settled for throwing a rather big get-together every few years. Other than that, he settled for small celebrations with Harper, Ethan and, since last year, Claire.

This year, however, was the party year. Claire couldn’t wait. Ethan, on the other hand, wasn’t looking forward to it as much. Tradition was tradition, however, and combined with very convincing arguments from Claire, he didn’t argue.

Due to the situation at the hospital, they were running a bit late. Their saving grace was that they bought the present a few days earlier and that the host was their very dear friend.

“I was beginning to think you two wouldn’t make it!” Naveen exclaimed, greeting the two by the entrance to the bar. He embraced Claire, then Ethan, smiling widely at the pair.

“I like to think we’re fashionably late.” She winked, then passed the gift she was holding to him, warning him of its weight. The oldest doctor deposited the bag at the table near the side of the room, then guided the pair to the group of people by the bar.

“I’m sure you all remember Ethan, so let me introduce you to Claire Herondale, a brilliant young doctor that I literally owe my life to.” Naveen spoke up, a pride tone in his voice when the memories of the pair working together on his case flooded his mind. Claire blushed a bit, taking a small step towards the group.

“Naveen is entirely too generous in his assessment.”

“No, he’s not.” Ethan argued, smiling down at his girlfriend. His hand glided up and down her side affectionately. “You are brilliant.”

Among the people in the group, most of them shared a common feature of surprise at the affectionate side of Ethan Ramsey. They’ve met a couple of times at public functions more or less formal than this one, but all those instances had one thing in common. Ethan Ramsey was alone. Ethan Ramsey was solely focused on his work and his patients. So, to see him with a woman on his arm, and to see him so infatuated with her, was a sight for sure.

Ethan didn’t mind most of the people Naveen invited. They were all amazing doctors and scientists; talking to them was usually an interesting and challenging for his brain experience.

That statement, however, wasn’t entirely true when it came to Jonathan Millstone. In general, he didn’t mind the man all that much. As a researcher, he was great. As a man, not so much. From his more than forward attitude, to his treatment of other people, women especially, everything combined into a not so alluring picture in Ethan’s opinion. He never voiced it, however, as the behavior of the researcher never impacted him directly.

Up until that point, that is.

Because Jonathan had wandering eyes. And his gaze has made itself at home on Claire. Her face, her neck, her waist. The slit of her dress. But most of all, the neckline of the said dress.

There was no shame in his ogling, not a hint of embarrassment when she noticed him staring. He didn’t say a word to her, just stood there and watched.

She breathed in heavily, trying to keep her annoyance at bay. Sensing how motionless Ethan has become, she snaked her hand around his arm, pushing herself closer to his side, twisting her body slightly to shield herself from insisting eyes of the other man. Ethan’s arm immediately wrapped tighter around her, amplifying the effect of her actions. It was the subtlest way she could have given Jonathan a hint that she was in a relationship and wasn’t, even in the slightest, interested or flattered by his behavior.

Surprising no one, he didn’t take a hint.

As they walked away from the group, Claire turned towards Ethan with a glint in her eyes.

“That was some impressive jealousy management you had there, Dr. Ramsey.” She gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. His hands squeezed her sides, his lips hovering right above hers.

“I was holding onto the last bits of patience.”

“I’m glad you did. Tonight, is about Naveen.”

A teasing grin grew on his lips in one moment, and in the next, he was twirling her out and into his arms. His fingers twisted the fabric of her dress slightly, the material rising off the ground a bit. Claire wrapped her arms around his neck, their face coming so close together that they were breathing the same air.

A soft sound of a working camera broke the bubble they were in, causing them both to look over. A photographer stood there, asking them if he could take a portrait of the two of them, per request of the host.

Ethan didn’t have to search very long for Naveen, who had a satisfied smile on his face. He shook his head with a sigh, then turned back to the photographer, nodding slightly in agreement.

With his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, they faced the camera, easy grins lighting up their features. Claire’s hand glided over his back, then slipped into the pocket of his jacket, the tips of her fingers pressing into his side playfully.

“Remind me to get that photo from Naveen later.” He muttered into her ear when they were alone again. She nodded, pressing them together so they could dance.

A few songs later, Claire managed to persuade him to let her get them drinks. And it did take some heavy convincing, especially when the first response she got was ‘I’m not going to be drinking any colorful nonsense’. She promised to not disappoint, then went towards the bar.

He turned around, coming face to face with Jonathan Millstone. He watched something right above the diagnostician’s shoulder, and Ethan didn’t have to guess or turn around to know just who was on the end of his gaze. When two men looked at each other, smugness and arrogance met irritation and disapproval. An explosive mix.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Ramsey with a date.”

“Would it kill you to be more respectful towards anyone?”

“She’s a real piece of beauty. You’re one lucky bastard, getting to score her.” Jonathan admitted out loud, watching how his words affected the doctor. Ethan’s hands rolled into fists and he was about to take a step towards the man, when a deadly calm voice called out from behind him.

“And you’re a real piece of an asshole.”

Both men froze in place when Claire walked to stand next to them. One would expect an angry scowl to reside on her face, but instead, she was neutral. Not a single emotion shown.

Wordlessly, she passed Ethan his glass of scotch, her eyes zeroing in on Jonathan. She weighed her own drink in the glass, swirling the liquid inside a couple of times. When she raised it, the researcher took a step back, expecting her to throw a drink in his face. Instead, she took a sip, smirking at his scared expression.

“You’re also lucky. I won’t make a scene at Naveen’s party.”

He thought he was off the hook. Oh, how wrong he was. Ethan took a definite step towards him, gripping his arm in a vice-like hold. “I’m not that generous, though. I suggest you learn your lesson and beat it.”

With a curt nod, he bid them goodbye (very respectfully) and got lost in the crowd. Claire’s face finally broke out into a smile.

“That felt good.” She shook her shoulders a bit, laughing in relief. Ethan bent his head, lips tracing the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“It was also incredibly attractive.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pants to drag him closer, her expression feigning innocence despite very suggestive looks they were both giving one another.

“Let me get you home so you can find out.”

Notes

We’re absolutely going to ignore the difference between the dress in the fic and the dress in the pic (yes, I’m a poet)

Denise, find the Hamilton reference (a literal line, no shame) :D

Tagging separately

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

love

Written for Day 7 of @aangweek! Read here on AO3.

~*~

7. love - don’t got nowhere to go / so we’ll go with the flow / yeah, we’re living the life / sippin’ on sunshine

“I can help clean,” Aang offered as Iroh began clearing their group’s cups and plates from the circular wooden table.

Iroh chuckled, shaking his head. “There’s no need -”

“I insist,” Aang interrupted, standing and collecting his own dishes. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for closing the shop early so we could be together without politicians and paparazzi peering over our shoulders.”

“There’s no use arguing with him,” Toph commented before Iroh could protest further. “Once Twinkle Toes decides to help someone, nothing will change his mind. Accept your fate, Iroh.”

Katara laughed along with the rest of their friends, and Aang gave them a guilty grin.

“Hey, I learned from my wife-to-be,” he teased, pressing a kiss to Katara’s forehead. “Never turn my back on people who need me!”

Katara rolled her eyes at his comment, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Aang and Iroh gathered the last of the group’s dishes before disappearing into the kitchen.

Zuko hummed in contentment, draping an arm around Mai’s shoulders. “I wish we could meet up like this more often. Be together without all the chaos.”

Today had involved an annual meeting of important representatives from all four nations, this year hosted by the Earth King. In other words, Katara knew, it was a very rare opportunity for their friend group to reunite in full. Only after the day’s politics had ended, of course.

Sokka snorted. “I agree, but you’ve gotta admit it’s pretty much impossible for this to be a regular event.”

“Ember Island is always open for an impromptu vacation,” Mai reminded them, earning more laughter from the group.

“I might take you up on that soon,” Suki mused, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and shaking her head. “A vacation is sounding more and more attractive with every second.”

Katara allowed herself a breathy sigh. “Spirits, if I could get Aang to take a vacation…” She snorted. “That would be the day.” Her fiancé was notoriously stubborn about working until he dropped. In fact, there was only one other person whose work ethic could compare.

Mai chuckled. “Zuko is exactly the same. Always working himself into the ground.”

Ah, yes. There it was.

Toph snickered. “Sounds like a match made in the Spirit World. Are you guys sure Zuko and Aang shouldn’t be the ones getting married next month?”

Zuko flushed a shade of scarlet as bright as his fire. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

Katara bit her tongue to hold back a snicker as Toph grinned at him. “Yes, I’m very aware.” Her grin narrowed into a sly smirk. “You’re sitting right here, and yet you deny nothing.”

Sokka burst out laughing, lightly elbowing Zuko in the ribs. “She’s got you there, hotman.”

Mai snorted at the nickname before giving Katara a play-sympathetic look. “Master Katara, how do you cope with the fact that my husband and yours-to-be are in love with each other?”

Katara sighed, leaning back in her chair and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, it was incredibly difficult for me to come to terms with.” She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “After I learned they’d kissed, I thought I’d never -”

“Oh, Agni,” Zuko groaned, burying his face in his hands at the same time Toph exclaimed, “Sparky and Twinkle Toes have kissed?!”

Katara couldn’t feign her melodrama any longer, letting herself succumb to a fit of intense laughter that made her entire upper body shake.

“Yes, they have,” Mai confirmed with a smirk. “It was hilarious, and I will never let Zuko hear the end of it.”

Zuko stared dead into the distance, his empty expression screaming that he’d rather be anywhere but there. “You’re going to tell them the story, aren’t you.”

The melancholic certainty with which he spoke was enough to make Katara snicker once more as she gave Mai a knowing glance, but before the Fire Lady could respond, Sokka spoke.

“Of course they’re going to tell us the story,” he scoffed. “The Avatar and the Fire Lord kissing? That’s the kind of thing you pass on forever to future generations!”

Suki laughed. “You sound way too invested for someone who has also kissed the Avatar,” she teased, smirking at her boyfriend.

Katara raised an eyebrow in amusement. Now that was news to her. “You did what, Sokka?”

Blood rushed to her brother’s face. “Not on the lips!” he squawked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am just very comfortable in my feminine side around Aang.” He tapped his cheek. “So yes, we have technically kissed, but not like that.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure we’ve all been on the receiving end of Aang’s affection in some way or another,” Suki conceded. “That’s just his way of expressing love.”

A smile flitted onto Katara’s lips at her friend’s words. She knew most of all, perhaps, how Aang inclined towards physical affection. He was especially fond of kissing the tip of her nose.

“Really?” Sokka said, bewildered. “What, does he have a ‘thing’ with each one of us?”

Suki shrugged. “I mean, I guess so?” She smirked at their group. “Aang and I have a special, top-secret handshake. That’s our thing.”

Katara laughed. “I remember when Aang was just beginning to figure out the motions he wanted to include in your handshake.” She held her own hands up in joking surrender. “I was never privy to the final product, of course. Only experimental aspects.”

Sokka pouted. “First of all, I am hurt that I was never told this handshake existed. And second” - wounded, he placed a hand over his heart - “how come I don’t have a handshake with him?”

Suki rolled her eyes. “Babe, you said yourself that your thing with Aang is cheek kisses.”

Sokka appeared unconvinced. “Yeah, but I’m not the only one who gets cheek kisses from him.” He jutted his thumb towards his sister. “Katara gets them all the time!”

“Katara is also going to marry him, Snoozles,” Toph said with a snort. “I don’t think it’s totally off-base to consider she might have a few additional privileges compared to the rest of us.”

“Katara might be the one who snagged the Avatar,” Mai drawled, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, “but I think it’s safe to assume that everyone in here had a crush on Aang at some point in their life.”

Katara burst out laughing both at Mai’s declaration and the different forms of denial that followed. She’d long since accepted the reality that Aang’s charm meant many people would fall for him. And if anything, it made her feel even luckier that she was the one preparing for a wedding.

Mai appeared to thrive on the chaos she’d incited. The Fire Lady had clearly been spending more - maybe too much - time with Aang. “I don’t know why you’re all so up in arms about this,” she commented, studying her nails. “When I saw him dressed up for Zuko and I’s wedding, I wondered if I was marrying the right man after all.”

Zuko choked at her words, and Mai laughed as she patted him on the back. “Kidding. But I did think Aang was the best-looking man at the reception.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to Zuko, who sighed, shoulders slumping. “No, I agree with her.” He flushed, his eyes dropping to the table. “Aang was definitely the most attractive person there.”

Katara remembered that outfit of her fiancé’s fondly. Saffron robes that danced the line between classy and casual, as fitting for an Air Nomad Avatar. And perhaps she recalled the attire begrudgingly, too, as it had attracted both wanted and unwanted attention towards her then-boyfriend at the reception.

“I’ll admit my heart fluttered the first time Aang returned to Kyoshi Island after the war,” Suki mused. “I hadn’t expected him to get so tall.”

Sokka gave his girlfriend an affronted look. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t I there -”

Suki silenced him with a finger over his lips. “Sokka. We both spent that weekend discussing how hot Aang had gotten. Don’t deny it.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You were planning to make some moves on Aang?”

Sokka’s face reddened. “You know what?” he finally said. “Maybe in another life. I’ll leave it at that.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Toph,” Mai commented, giving the earthbender a small smirk. “When did you realize you had a crush on ‘Twinkle Toes’?”

Toph crossed her arms over her chest, which Katara noted with amusement did nothing to hide the rosy blush coloring her friend’s cheeks. “Never. Because unlike all of you, I’m blind and therefore cannot be affected by Aang’s so-called ‘good looks.’”

“Aw, but Aang is so much more than his looks,” Katara teased, unable to remain out of the chaos Mai had incited any longer. “What got you, Toph? His voice? His jokes? His incessant kindness towards anyone and anything?”

Toph opened her mouth before slamming it shut. “Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll tell you. On one condition.” She pointed at Zuko. “I still want to know how Sparky and Aang locked lips.”

Mai snickered at her husband’s misfortune, and Katara herself couldn’t help but laugh as Zuko muttered a variety of curses under his breath.

“An easy deal,” Katara agreed. “Now tell us - what got you?”

Toph exhaled a resigned sigh. “His voice,” she grumbled, and the table burst into another round of laughter and cheers. Really, they were lucky that Iroh or even Aang himself hadn’t returned to investigate all the noise.

“Honestly, no one can blame you there,” Sokka remarked, shaking his head. “Who could have predicted Aang would grow up the way he did?”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother, though she doubted the expression was as intimidating as she intended it to be. “Really?”

“Okay, well, except for you -”

“Enough chatter!” Toph interrupted, slamming a fist on the table. A smirk pulled at her lips. “Sparky? Storytime?”

Zuko groaned. “Remember how I said I wished we could all meet up more often?” He shook his head. “I take it back.”

Suki laughed. “Stop whining and get on with the story, Zuko.”

“Or else I’ll tell it for you,” Mai added, slipping her hand into her husband’s. Katara couldn’t deny the story would be funnier if Mai told it, as she’d already heard it a dozen times from her friend.

Zuko sighed. “It’s not even an exciting story.” He rolled his eyes. “I was going over some paperwork with Aang and Mai. At one point, Aang was called away for - for Avatar business, or something.” He huffed. “Aang went to give me a ‘goodbye kiss’” - Zuko pointed to his forehead - “because that’s his ‘thing’ with me, I guess. But I didn’t realize what he was doing, so I looked up to ask him a question, and we -”

“- and you accidentally kissed?” Sokka finished flatly. “Aw, man! That is boring.” He shook his head in disappointment. “Such a letdown.”

“What Zuko conveniently forgets to mention every time he tells this story,” Mai said, amused, “is that he leaned into the kiss.”

Toph burst out laughing as Zuko adamantly protested that no, he had not, no matter what his wife said. “So,” the earthbender said amidst her snickers, “what I’m hearing is that Zuko never really got over his crush on Aang?”

“No, he did not,” Mai mused. “But it’s not like I can hold that against him. Having a crush on Aang is perfectly understandable.”

“If it’s any consolation, Zuko,” Katara said, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin atop her hands as she gave the firebender a devilish grin, “Aang thinks you’re a pretty good kisser.”

Her comment set their group off for the umpteenth time, and Katara snickered at the rollercoaster of emotions roaring over Zuko’s face. There was nothing better than sparking a little chaos every now and then, was there?

Huh. Aang had rubbed off on her, too. She supposed being engaged to him would do that.

“Uh… I feel like I missed something here?”

Katara bit the inside of her cheek to contain her laughter as Aang dropped into his seat beside her. “Oh, no. You didn’t miss anything.”

Aang stared with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment at their friends, who were yet to collect themselves. “Are you sure? What did you guys talk about without me?”

Katara hummed noncommittally, shrugging. “Nothing special.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Just how much we love you.”

~*~

more of aang being adored by his friends in fanworks 2k21, please and thank you. i hope you enjoyed my collection of ficlets for the week, and as always - thank you for reading!