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wisteria-blooms · 8 months

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sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) 2/??

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake (Let me know if you want to be tagged!)

CHAPTER 2: If you thought last night's dinner was terrible, you are proven wrong the very next morning. What could be worse than the return of Charlie Weasley, who lands right back in England, in the middle of a conversation about dating his older brother? (3.9k words)

CHAPTER 2: FASTER WE'RE FALLING

Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked across Diagon Alley. The town was still draped in silence at just a half hour past dawn, and there was a distinct fall chill in the morning air. The chill wasn’t the only thing lingering; you were replaying the scene you’d caused at dinner yesterday. You and your father were at obvious odds this morning when you passed each other in the hallway. When he’d curtly announced he had important business and therefore wouldn’t be at breakfast, you were elated.

But that was all the reminder that there were only thirteen days to find a lover. A true one or not.

Not much else was open at this hour except your favourite café, Cauco, which was also known as Cauldron Concoctions. It was most renowned for its brunch but was a beautiful restaurant at all hours of the day.

So, you walked like a woman on a mission, holding a tray of drinks, trying your very best not to spill it on the cream sweater that you’d layered over an oversized white dress shirt. The faint sun would undoubtedly swelter in a couple of hours, so you had an option to peel off layers.

“Good morning!” you called as you pushed the door open with your back to Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

“Good morning!” George called back.

“We’re not open yet,” Fred said, standing by the entrance. “Make like a tree and leave.”

“Ignore him, (Y/N),” George instructed, throwing his towel onto the table. “Seeing your beautiful face always brightens my mornings.”

You couldn’t hide a smile at both the banter and the relief being here brought you. Fred and George had been your best friends since your first year at Hogwarts. In a way, you supposed forgotten misfits always found each other. They taught you how to be yourself and to stop caring about other people’s opinions. Your friendship carried strongly over the years and beyond graduation. They’d seen you through your best and worst, and was your stronghold when you were having trouble with your family.

“What’s this?” Fred asked, eyes falling on the tray you were carrying.

“Fuel,” you responded.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” Fred complimented, snatching a latte for himself and George. He wafted the sweet scent of pumpkin and made a pleased expression. “But I have a peculiar feeling that drinks mean…. you require something.”

“Not always,” you said.

Fred rolled his eyes. “Out with it. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?”

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“Okay?” Fred quirked an eyebrow. “What else is new?”

“Ever since my cousin’s wedding in France in August, marriage is all my mother will talk about,” you confessed. “She’s pressuring me to get married, despite there being multiple steps missing in between. My father is pissed off that I’ve embarrassed him by ditching the sons of his friends at the country club, so he’s strong-armed me into entertaining Goyle for dinner.”

“And you agreed?” Fred asked.

“Of course not,” you said, irritation creeping in at the thought of rolling over to Lucius’s demands so quickly. “I told him I already had a boyfriend.”

“Which isn’t true,” George said. “Unless something’s changed since last week?”

“I mean, it can be true,” you said. “I just haven’t been able to find anyone to make my statement true.”

“I thought Malfoys had a whole web of connections,” George remarked.

“Malfoys never burn bridges, Malfoys never lose,” you recited. “But I’ve broken so many of these sayings that I may as well renege my last name.”

“Is this a proposal for me to fill in the gap?” Fred asked excitedly, holding a hand over his chest. “I’d be delighted to go out with you. High time you asked.”

You laughed. “You couldn’t keep a straight face if your life depended on it.” In truth, you would’ve loved to take Fred with you. Just his last name would absolutely piss off your parents, namely your father and so much so that Lucius might actually crush the wine glass in his hands. And you had so much built-up anger for his favouritism of Draco over you that it would be fulfilling to see it—the idea of you and Fred Weasley—unravel.

“Do you want to rent someone else instead of taking this clown?” George asked. “We can offer some old friends, maybe some siblings, but be careful with who you choose.”

Siblings.

You had to laugh at the idea. “You’d offer me a sibling?”

George nodded. “Slim pickings, but yeah, I can pull some strings.”

You sifted through some faces for your own amusement. You knew Ron was happily taken, Percy was never going to say yes, and Charlie was never in England. So, you naturally landed on Bill. Bill was the eldest. The age gap between you and him, a whole eight years, would be enough to make Lucius’s head implode. What could a 31-year old want with his sweet daughter? That would be corruption beyond even his understanding. You hadn’t seen Bill in years, and you were never in school with him. But from quick glimpses of when he’d come home during vacations, you could remember long hair, piercings, and a fang earring that Molly was always trying to tug off at the table.

Wait—

Why was this actually a good idea?

The prospect of the chaos he could cause at the dinner table made your heart ache happily.

And like the last pair of heels in your size at Madame Malkin’s, you just had to have Bill Weasley.

“Well, anyone in mind?” George asked.

“Bill!” you said confidently.

A moment of silence.

“(Y/N),” George managed to get out. He was breathing through clenched teeth, trying not to implode with laughter.

“What?” you demanded.

“You’re a fucking homewrecker.”

“What?” you spat.

“Bill is married,” George lectured.

“What?” you trilled.

“Yeah,” Fred added matter-of-factly. “It’s taken mum a while, but she finally came around on their wedding day a year ago.”

“Charlie was blasé about the marriage, he was just happy to be best man,” George said, providing background. “Percy figured that since Fleur was the global liaison for the same company Bill worked at, it was considered a workplace romance and so he professionally advised against it. Almost reported Bill, his own fucking brother, to human resources, but we reckon he was just jealous. Of course, Ronnie was mad because he’s wanted Fleur for himself since his fourth year. And Ginny, well, maybe it was a cultural shock for her, but she hated the idea of Bill and Fleur.”

“And now you want to tear them apart? This only gets better!” Fred rubbed his hands together. Then, a serious look crossed his face. Then, he wagged his finger. “Actually, you should do it. You can get back at her for stealing Davies from you during the Yule Ball.”

“No one told me they were married!” you protested, heat tickling your cheeks. “And I didn’t know he’d married Fleur of all people.”

You remember the uproar that Fleur caused in your sixth year during the Triwizard Tournament. She was this perfect blonde magnet that literally hypnotized every man that walked by to the extent that even you were jealous of her. In a way, she was everything your parents wanted you to be, and you’d never fit that mold.

“You should stay in town more often, but you were taking your annual Tour de France last year,” Fred said. “Maybe you could’ve crashed the wedding. Mum would’ve probably preferred you as his wife anyway.”

You made a face at Fred, grossed out by what he was inferring. “I’d only want him for a weekend.”

“Sure, o-okay.” He swung around and resumed unpacking some boxes. “Keep thinking about it, (Y/N).”

With a hmph, you sat down on the couch in the middle of the store. This seat was usually a hotbed for parents, sitting for hours waiting for their children to finish perusing. It was weird being here without the usual bustling crowds doing a last haul before rushing off to Platform 9 ¾. All the kids were back in school, and now it was just the occasional local or group of tourists.

As Fred worked in front of you and George mounted a ladder, you sipped on your latte and drummed your fingers on the leather couch. You were running through other possibilities in your mind like a madwoman. Bill’s occupancy left a hole in your heart despite you never even considering it until George brought it up. Worst case, you could head to a bar tonight and propose the idea to a guy drunk out of his mind. You knew you were amenable to mostly anything when you were three drinks in, hence the lingering scars on your legs from when you were drunkenly running around London after midnight with Fred and George last year. And maybe it was better that way, not knowing who was going to play your boyfriend.

As you mused, a loud crack rang out in front of you. You barely flinched. You were more than accustomed to random loud noises having been around Fred and George for so long.

“Charlie!” Fred’s voice rang out.

You slowly looked up and saw a tall figure towering over you. You assumed that, from Fred’s comment, this was Charlie turned away, standing in front of you, inches from your knees. A worn jean jacket covered his noticeably broad torso. You could see the gleam of a silver necklace circling his neck. Long and wild ringlets of ginger hair grazed his shoulders.

“Hey, long time no see,” Charlie greeted.

“Don’t you know it’s bad manners to apparate directly inside?” Fred mocked. “Charles Weasley, how many times have I told you? You should always apparate outside the house and then knock until your host invites you in!”

“You’re open, mum’s not here, so what’s the problem?” Charlie said with a shrug. He took a step back. In a split second, you realized what he was doing.

He was trying to sit. On the couch you were on.

Without recognizing you were right there. Holding a cup of steaming coffee.

“Hey, watch out!” you warned, but it was too late.

A crushing weight was quickly falling on your lap. You bent your free arm to brace for Charlie, hoping your forearm would lighten the impact on your legs. He’d always sported more muscles than any of his siblings, and if even Fred was heavy enough to knock the breath out of you, you couldn’t imagine trying to support Charlie. The issue was that your other arm was the one holding the coffee. And as Charlie landed on you, your latte spilled everywhere, staining your freshly-starched blouse and the softest wool sweater you’d owned.

Just as quickly as Charlie had sat down, he got up.

“Whoa!” Charlie exclaimed after realizing there was someone behind him. “I’m sorry,” he said. He turned around to assess the damage he’d done: a hot splotch of coffee on your now brown sweater, dribbling down your thighs to your knees and down your legs.

“Good thing it wasn’t a white t-shirt,” Fred snickered. “But maybe you would’ve liked that, Charlie.”

Charlie burst out laughing. But when you shot him a look, he quickly bit his tongue. “I’m sorry about spilling it on you, erm—”

“(Y/N),” you finished for him.

“(Y/N) Malfoy!” He slapped his head, a bright smile resulting from the action, like there was happiness shooting from his palm. “How could I forget you?” Charlie extended a hand to you which you took. The first thing you noticed was how callused and rough his hands were, likely sculpted from his work with dragons and other beasts. The second thing you noticed was that you barely had to do any work; his muscled arm lifted you with ease until you were on your feet. “Mum can fix you up,” he said. He pointed to the left breast of his jean jacket where a button should’ve been. Instead, it was a ripped seam. “A Peruvian Vipertooth got cheeky with me and snatched my button off. Mum’ll have to take a look at repairing it so you may as well come with me.”

“Why are you even here in the first place?” Fred asked. “Did all the dragons escape under your care?” He paused for a second, letting his imagination run wild. “Have you been debarred?”

“I was forced to take my accrued vacation time,” Charlie said. “Amongst other things, but we can talk about it later at home.”

“You should make it up to (Y/N),” George called from the second floor, after leisurely watching the debacle.

“Oh yeah, of course,” Charlie responded. He eyed the now empty cup of coffee on the side table. “Do you want to get another cup of coffee?”

“Smooth,” George sang. “Not even a minute back in England, and already trying to woo a lovely lady to go out with you?”

“You know me,” Charlie admitted, his hands in his pockets. “I don’t like wasted time.” He cocked his head at you. “What do you say, (Y/N)?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” you said. You had more worrisome things to attend to than a lost coffee.

“I don’t mean just coffee, Charlie,” George corrected, descending the ladder. “Did you hear the rest of the conversation before you sat on (Y/N), or have you stopped eavesdropping?”

“I’ve only kept the bad habit of apparating in where I shouldn’t,” Charlie said with a wink. You blinked at him, confused.

“Let me fill you in,” Fred offered, stalking over to Charlie’s side. “(Y/N) was asking us about the best way to break up Bill and Fleur’s marriage.”

“What?” Charlie guffawed. “You’re not serious about that, are you?”

“Talk about a loose interpretation of events,” you murmured. You didn’t want to add fuel to Fred’s fire so you kept silent.

George shook his head and explained in your defense. “(Y/N) shot herself in the foot last night and is on a mission to find a boyfriend to take to dinner before she’s forced to marry Goyle.”

“Gross.” Charlie contorted his face. “I only knew his older brother, (Y/N), but if the younger Goyle is anything like him…”

“I’m not marrying him regardless of what happens!” you protested. “We also don’t have to talk about it here.” You looked over at Charlie. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t seen the second eldest brother in years and now all of this drama was unraveling as his welcome home present.

“Whoa,” Charlie said. “Let me take you out for a date first before we meet your parents, (Y/N).”

“That’s not—”

George just hummed.

“Here, take this,” Charlie said. He quickly shed his jean jacket and handed it over, the chain around his neck dangling as the material swept it. He wore nothing but a white t-shirt underneath.“Cover up the stain before we go to,”—he grabbed the empty white cup and inspected the lettering,—“Cauco? You’ll bankrupt me before our second date, (Y/N).”

“Charlie is more of a Coffee Pot kind of guy,” George said with a snicker. He was referring to a cafe near Knockturn Alley where the price was more palatable than the coffee.

“Hey, don’t share my finances in front of (Y/N),” Charlie protested. “Come on, (Y/N). Let’s get going.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, giving Charlie a last chance to escape.

“I insist,” he tutted.

You sighed in surrender.

As you accepted the jacket, you couldn’t help but notice the faint scars running up his forearms. Some were evidently deep scratches from what you assumed were caused by dragon talons. The rest had to be burn scars. A shudder ran up your spine and you willed yourself to stop thinking about it.

You looped your arms through Charlie’s jacket. You were immediately enveloped in the scent of cinder and ash, like you were transported into a deep grassy forest in the middle of autumn. The frayed hems of the jacket reached midway down your thigh and were sufficient to cover the ugly mess on your sweater. You popped the collar of your dress out, rolled up the sleeves, and followed Charlie’s lead out the door.

Cauco was brimming with business when you arrived for the second time today. It was situated in a particularly attractive part of town where the higher-end stores stood. The open air terrace spilled onto the cobbled streets. Lavender and wisteria hung from the roof providing beauty and shade. It was full of patrons enjoying a morning coffee, much more of them now than when you’d walked in earlier. As you strode past the glass door that Charlie held open, you realized the inside was no better. Every seat underneath the high ceilings was occupied. Beautiful and fresh pastries, a collection of breads, tarts, and cakes, lined the glass displays. The espresso machine was pristinely polished. You and Charlie passed by a line of people in queue to be seated.

“I reckon we should just get this to go, yeah?” Charlie said. He tilted his head to the right, trying to see the menu printed behind the counter.

“You were thinking of sitting down?”

“I haven’t been able to properly relax in hours. Sleeper trains are terrible.” He extended his arms over his head in a stretch. “And I don’t fit too well in the berths.”

‘I can imagine,’ you thought, looking at the taut muscles he was working. As you looked up at Charlie, you realized there was so much you hadn’t noticed about him before. Maybe it was because you’d only known him before your body was flush with hormones. After all, you’d barely spent two grades at Hogwarts with him before he went off to Romania. And he was much too cool and preoccupied with Quidditch to pay attention to you.

Charlie wasn’t the tallest Weasley child but his broad shoulders and frame more than made up for it. You’d put him right next to Fred and George in terms of height, but he just looked physically more intimidating. As if, if he had to brawl with Fred, you’d place all your bets on Charlie. You’d place the estate on him in any sort of fight. Charlie’s jaw was chiseled, the angles cutting like glass and meeting to form a square chin. A faint dimple unveiled itself when he laughed, which was often. His brow was cocked, eyes angled, and he wore a permanent smirk, as if he was always calculating his next move. When the sun caught him just right, his eyes were the colour of the sea: bright blue blending with a ring of aquamarine in the centre.

Charlie exhaled as he eased the tension in his body. “So, what are you going to do?” His voice was deeper and huskier by nature. You hadn’t heard it in ages and had almost forgotten its distinct quality.

“What about?”

He bit back a laugh. “The Goyle thing.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It feels nice to get it out in the open, at least. I might have to chat up a random bloke at the bar.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Charlie warned, his brows furrowing. “That can be dangerous.” Then he leaned in a little closer, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. “You know, you can always ask me.”

“No way,” you deflected with a laugh. You weren’t sure if he was serious.

“But you were considering Bill?” He placed a hand over his chest. “I’m offended. I’m more fun than him.”

“That was a joke,” you mumbled. “I didn’t know he was married, otherwise I wouldn't have said anything.”

“I didn’t know he was married either,” Charlie admitted.

“What? I thought you were the best man.”

“I was,” Charlie said. “But it all happened so fast. One day, he’s saying he’s met this girl. Next week, he’s in love. Then, he wants to propose, and before I know it, I’m standing at the altar.” Charlie chuckled. “Bill just knows what he wants. There’s no such thing as wasted time with him.”

“But there’s wasted time with you?” you teased.

“Likely, yeah. But let’s rewind, you said there’s dinner involved?”” Charlie wound the topic back to your predicament. “I’m famished, even more so thinking about what dinner is like at the Malfoy manor. How many courses would it be?”

“Seven,” you responded.

His eyes lit up. “I might even pay to go with you.”

Before you could respond, a young woman called you up to the counter. For a fraction of a second, you caught her eyes looking at your oversized jean jacket. And for a fraction of a second, you felt entirely out of place dressed like this in such an upscale establishment.

Charlie leaned in slightly. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” the young woman responded, red dotting her cheeks. Now, her eyes were locked on Charlie. And you were starting to understand why.

“May I have two lattes, a jambon beurre,” he leaned back and to observe the pastries in the display. “And a pain au chocolat.” Then he turned to you and asked: “Do you want one, too, (Y/N)?”

“I’m alright,” you said.

After Charlie paid for the order, you were instructed to wait off to the side so as to not disrupt the dining patrons. You were near the kitchens, so the noise of clattering dishes, clanking cutlery, and chatter was all-consuming.

Charlie leaned down and whispered, “I reckon my body will eat itself if I don’t feed it enough.”

As if he needed to justify his order. Still, you laughed. “I wouldn’t want that to happen. The dragons need you.”

A natural silence landed over you and Charlie, small talk running low, and you began to glance around the restaurant. The host at the front was a man in his fifties. His name was Jacques, a familiar face. He’d been working here for ages, for as long as you could remember. His suit was perfectly pressed, his grey hair perfectly slicked back, and he was standing ready for the next patron. When two men walked in, Jacques recognized them immediately.

‘As any good host should,’ you thought.

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Lemieux,” Jacques greeted pleasantly. “Your table is ready for six. Please follow me this way.”

“Hey,” Charlie said. He’d obviously been following where your eyes trailed off to. “Isn’t that your dad?”

As if silenced by a hex, no words came out. Especially not when Lucius slowly turned to his left, his steely eyes immediately recognizing his own daughter. Irritation immediately crossed his face when he processed the ridiculous outfit you were wearing—the oversized and frayed jean jacket which was clearly not yours. His face only got redder when he appraised the man standing beside you. The man who your jacket clearly belonged to.

A Weasley.

And you could imagine what putting two-and-two together resulted in: breakfast after a morning romp in the sheets with Charlie Weasley, wrapped in his jacket after he’d shed all your clothes.

“Excuse me for a second,” Lucius said to his business partner, swallowing his anger for appearances. Mr. Lemieux nodded and followed Jacques to the table instead.

Without a word and with just a quick jut of the head in the opposite direction, you knew exactly what your father was commanding. With a gulp, you followed him.

NEXT CHAPTER >>

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#charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley x reader

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the grudge | conrad fisher

conrad fisher x female mc

summary: sometimes the person you love most can be the one who cuts you the deepest. for delaney and conrad, they haven't talked in years. not since that night. not since delaney had confessed to her best friend that she was in love with him.

word count: 3k

warning: mdni, sexual content

author's note: this is a little angsty but also cute ig

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

They say a friendship breakup feels a thousand times worse than a romantic one. Losing that person that feels like your other half, the one you could get stranded on an island with and still find something to laugh about. I suppose that it's true. Losing my best friend feels like a piece of my heart has been ripped out, thrown to the side as though it were perfectly disposable.

I hate Conrad Fisher. I hate him for making me love him. Everyday, I think about that Friday in May. That phone call, the malice in his voice. Everyday I think about it. And most of all, I hate that I made him hate me too.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Nicole had dragged me to this party, demanding for me to get my ass out of the house. I had spent all summer pent up in my room doing online classes to get a head start before starting at Stanford this year. Plus, I didn't want to risk seeing him. Knowing what he said to me. So I had let summer pass me by, not stopping to admire the feeling of the sun gracing my skin or spending all day basking in salt water. I hadn't felt the satisfying pain of a sunburn from spending the whole day outside, despite reapplying sunscreen each hour.

I guess I figured that if I could distract myself, I wouldn't have to think about what existed outside of my room. The reality that Conrad Fisher hates me, and I hate him too. It wasn't always like that. We had grown up quite the pair. I remember days where he would spin me around the kitchen of his house next door, the sweet melodies of Billy Joel filling our souls. But something so perfect can't last forever, and it's my fault for ruining it.

With Nicole's hand in mine, we step through the cream threshold of the house. I believe that it's Gigi's and her parents are gone for the weekend. The smell of alcohol immediately fills my senses, making my stomach churn, along with the blasting house music.

When Gigi spots me, she throws her arms in the air, squealing with delight.

"Look who finally decided to join us!"

She sloppily encases me with a hug, throwing her arms around my shoulders. I smile against her, missing the feeling of being around my friends.

"I've just been busy with school Gig. You know I would never purposefully miss hanging out with you."

She pulls back, rolling her eyes playfully and making Nicole hug her next.

"Yeah, right, Stanford."

We both giggle as she pours me a beer, and I take it gratefully. Though my senses prick when I feel somebody else walk in the room. I know who it is immediately, not bothering to turn around and deal with him.

Holding my cup in my hand, I smile tightly at Gigi and Nicole.

"I'm gonna go use the bathroom. Don't have too much fun without me."

Turning on my heel, I keep my head down, beelining for the bathroom. The stairs feel a mile long as the ache in my chest begins to build, each step seeming to grow double in front of me. I finally make it to the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind me and holding my hands on the counter for support. I squeeze my eyes shut to try to relieve some of the pain, but it's no use.

I should be over this by now, it's been two years since it happened. Somebody is knocking on the door, probably some drunk girl needing to go pee, but it all sounds muffled.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Nerves eat at my stomach as I walk with Conrad on the beach. I don't know exactly when I fell in love with him, it's not like it happened suddenly. But recently it's been so overwhelming that my heart seems to ache every time I'm away from him, and on the verge of bursting when I'm near him.

He's talking about football right now, the camp that his dad's sending him to at the end of the summer. The end of May lingers like perfume, the final days of school transitioning to the beginning of summer. I can't seem to find it in me to pay attention to what he's saying, knowing that what I'm about to do will change our friendship forever. For however terrified of losing him I am, I am equally as sure that I need to tell him.

"Conrad." I say softly, my voice shaky.

He doesn't hear me, continuing to talk about dreading the drills and the shallowness of the team. I shake my head, urging myself for confidence.

"Conrad." I say, slightly louder.

This time he pauses, his head turning toward mine as I halt in the sand. My sandals feel heavy in my hand, the midday sun blazing onto my shoulders. Conrad is standing in front of me now, with his hair blowing into the coastal wind.

"What's up?" His brows are furrowed, as if confused by my demeanor.

I think my heart might actually beat out of my chest.

"I-" I start, "I've known you for like my whole life and you're my best friend."

He nods reluctantly, eyes holding mine.

"And you're mine. What's going on?"

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in through my nose.

"I think I love you, Conrad."

When he doesn't say anything for a moment, I open my eyes. But he's not standing in front of me anymore. Conrad Fisher is walking away from me, about twenty feet up the beach. I told Conrad I loved him, and he walked away. My brain tells me to follow him, to take it back, to have never risked losing my best friend at all. But he's walking away, and my feet seem to be sinking into the sand, where I will stay until the tide washes me away.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The door of the bathroom creaks open, forcing my eyes to shoot to the intruder.

"Sorry, I was knocking but you weren't answering and I wasn't sure if you were okay-"

"Leave, Conrad."

I look at my reflection in the mirror, the yellowed light tanning my skin while I avoid connecting my gaze with him. Conrad doesn't leave. I need him to leave. Instead, he closes the door, enclosing us in the guest bathroom.

"Delaney-"

I whip around to face him, anger building in my core at his concerned tone.

"No! You don't get to say my name like that, Conrad. Not after everything."

Tears build in my eyes, two years of resentment boiling to the surface.

"We both said things we regret that night." His voice is low, dipping his head to catch my eyes.

"Yes, Conrad, we both drew blood. But you and I both know that those cuts were never equal. You ended our friendship over the fucking phone. You called me unlovable-"

My voice breaks, tears streaming down my cheeks at this point. Conrad's shaking his head like trying to forget the bad memory.

"I didn't mean it, Delaney. I didn't mean it. I was scared, and I had just ended things with Aubrey. Our friendship meant so much to me, and I was so scared of losing it." He pleads with me.

"That's exactly what you did though! I know that I started it Conrad, and I will regret that every day for the rest of my life. But I loved you, and you couldn't handle that, so you turned me into this villain."

"No, no," he shakes his head again, "you were never the villain, Delaney. I was scared because I loved you too."

The bathroom is quiet, not even our breaths daring to break the fragile atmosphere. Voices and music are muffled behind the door, and Conrad is looking at me so intensely that I swear I might have something on my face.

Conrad Fisher was my first love. They say that never really leaves you, it sticks like pollen to a hummingbird. Falling in love with him wasn't grueling, it just kind of snuck up on me. It was like I woke up one morning and realized that I had loved him this whole time. I loved the way that he snort-laughed when we would watch South Park on the couch and the way that he went to every one of my track meets. I loved the way that his hair never seemed quite put together and the way that he smelled in the morning when he picked me up for school. I was intwined with Conrad Fisher the way the moon is intwined with the tide.

"Two years-" I start, "You didn't talk to me for two years after that night."

"Because I couldn't find the words to say how sorry I was. I'd tried, Delaney. I spent months trying to figure our how to apologize. But then you got together with Braedon, and I thought that it was over, that nothing I could say would ever be enough to make you believe that if I could take back every word, I would. I never expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I did love you."

He pauses, looking at the mirror behind me before looking back at me. His chest rises and falls at a steady pace, in sync with mine. My eyes soften involuntarily with his confession. I'm not sure that I forgive Conrad yet. But right here, in this bathroom, it feels like two years has been nothing more than a few days. I'll be going to Stanford in a couple weeks, leaving behind my life on the east coast, at Cousins Beach. Though it feels as though we're sixteen again, stressing over driving school rather than college. I know that we've both changed so much while we were apart, but at the same time it feels natural to be with him, even if we're arguing.

Conrad's gaze is heavy on mine and I feel my heart in my throat. Without thinking too much about it, I grab the back of his neck, pulling his lips onto mine. I think that I've made a mistake when Conrad pulls back startled, face inches from mine.

But after a second, his hand comes up to my face, lips dipping to meet mine more fervently than before. Our kiss is heated, Conrad's palm heavy against my skin, the feeling of his touch both familiar and foreign. It's strange to think that he's the Conrad that I've known my entire life, yet at the same time, not.

My arms are wrapped around his neck, and his hands come to the backs of my thighs, lifting me onto the bathroom counter. I quickly wrap my legs around his waist while his hands continue to hold my thighs. My sundress sits high on my hips from the position.

"You're so fucking stunning, D."

Conrad pulls back to run his gaze over me, his pupils blown out. I take the time to do the same, glancing over his worn t-shirt, jeans, and sun kissed cheeks. Conrad's head dips down to meet my neck, his hair tickling my jawline. He sucks at my skin, finding the sweet spot just under my ear and eliciting a soft moan.

"Don't leave a mark, Connie." I breath out as my hands tangle into his hair and pull slightly.

He nips slightly at the spot, the sting causing heat to explode throughout my body before running his tongue over it artfully.

"God, you don't know how long I've waited to do this with you."

"Bite me?" I laugh out, his hands holding onto my waist.

Conrad laughs too, before shaking his head.

"No, just touch you."

My breath catches in my throat at his words, the heat of his hands on my waist burning me. He moves them up, eyes on mine before twiddling the straps of my dress between his fingers.

"It is impossible to not want you, Delaney."

His voice is low, and he brings his forehead to connect with mine. Our breaths are intertwined, the feeling of his hair between my fingers as though I were home. Back to my Conrad. Our mouths touch briefly before we both give in again. Conrad pulls me flush against him, no space between our chests. I open my mouth, allowing his tongue to slip in, tangling with mine. The sound of his moan vibrates through me, every inch of us connected.

Conrad's fingertips dig into my thighs, rubbing them up and down while we fight for dominance. When one of his hands disappears under the hem of my dress, he pulls away slightly to look at me.

"Is this okay?"

We're both breathing heavily, and I can feel my cheeks flush.

"Of course."

Conrad looks down, watching as he bunches the floral fabric higher on my hips, revealing my light pink thong. He takes his time exploring my skin, hands groping at my bare ass, running his palm against my inner thigh. I just watch him, not daring to break the moment. And Conrad watches me, as though memorizing every piece that he touches.

When he dips down onto his knees, I feel my breath catch immediately. He looks heavenly down there, blue eyes heavy on mine as he plants a kiss onto my thigh. One kiss. Another. Each one higher up my thigh, his gaze never leaving mine as my breathing picks up. The feeling of his lips on my skin feels both right and wrong, paradoxical in the best way possible.

Conrad pauses, looking up at me from the floor.

"I need to taste you, D."

I nod, not letting myself look away.

"Words, baby."

My heart lurches at the name.

"Yes." I manage to get out.

He wastes no time, pulling the thong down my thighs and stuffing it into his back pocket. His hands pull my legs around his shoulders, and his head dips dangerously close to my core. I shudder at the feeling of his warm breath against my cunt, him still holding my thighs for support.

Conrad presses his tongue flat against me and I'm already soaking for him. I try to stifle my moans as he begins to work my clit, hands shooting out to grip his hair. When I pull a little, Conrad grunts against me, the sound filling my whole body.

My back arches with the pleasure of him this close to me, with his tongue exploring the most intimate part of me. He circles my clit some more, pleasure instantly building as I my hips involuntarily attempt to grind against him.

"Patience, baby." Conrad grips my hips and I feel him smile against me.

"Stop smiling down there, Connie. This isn't funny."

He laughs softly before dipping his tongue into my cunt, the feeling immediately halting our bickering. The pleasure is unlike anything else, especially when his fingers begin to rub at my clit, working both of them at the same time. My breathing picks up, the pressure of an orgasm building low in my stomach.

When I feel myself getting close, I pull Conrad away.

"I need you."

He stands, his body in between my legs. With him close to me, my fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. I'd been around Conrad shirtless lots of times growing up. But it was never like this, never where I would touch him. Football had toned his body, and I take a moment to admire him.

"Done staring?"

I roll my eyes, reaching forward to cup his dick over his jeans, making his breath catch.

"Shut up Conrad."

"Mhm." He whimpers, rolling his hips into my hand.

Conrad holds his body up with one arm on the wall behind me, the other gripping my hip as if I could disappear any second. Despite him dry-humping my hand, I can't help but think that he's never looked this beautiful in our entire lives.

Needing him as soon as possible, my fingers fumble at his belt, pulling his jeans down. He takes initiative, sliding his dick out of his boxers and grabbing a condom from the pocket of his jeans. Fuck, he's big. I tentatively meet his hand, the feeling of his cock in my palm making me want him even more.

"Please." I practically beg.

His gaze his heavy on mine as my hand pumps his dick.

"Such a good girl for me, begging for my dick."

Conrad's hand comes to rest around my throat, and my thighs clench at the thought of him choking me. I nod at him, urging him to squeeze. When he does, I can't help the load moan that comes from me.

"Oh my god." He breathes out as I line his dick up with my entrance, the tip brushing against my folds.

"Are you sure?" Conrad asks as we both prepare to have him inside me.

"Always."

He pushes forward, his dick filling me up immediately, my eyes screwing shut from the feeling. He waits a second, allow both of us to adjust before he begins to move. I know that I won't last long, especially from coming so close when he was eating me out.

With him pumping in and out of me and his hand on my throat, Conrad dips his head to kiss me again. It's slow in contrast to his dick, feeling much more intimate than anything else we've done.

"You're it for me, Delaney."

When we both finish, Conrad slumps against me, face nuzzled into my neck. My arms are wrapped around his back, mine resting against the mirror.

'I've missed you." I hear him say, voice muffled as he strokes my hair.

"Yeah, me too. I feel like I got a piece of me back."

Conrad smiles at this, both of us not knowing what the future holds for us. All I know is I still love him as much as I did two years ago, when I confessed at the beach.

"Please don't walk away from me again."

"Never, baby."

#conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty #conrad x reader #jeremiah fisher #tsitp #Spotify #tsitp conrad #team conrad #belly conklin

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eddies-house · 1 year

Text

California Dreamin’

Chapter Two - Milkshakes & Sunburns (18+ ONLY)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4

Modern!Eddie AU - In which Eddie travels to California searching for something more out of life. And then he meets you.

Warnings: mentions of drug use and alcohol, reader being insecure, mentions of a deceased parent, eventual smut in future chapters, let me know if I missed any :)

8.8K words

Eddie x Reader, Friends to lovers, Slow burn

<;- Prev | Next ->

Note: So I got carried away and just kept writing. Also got a bit discouraged but that’s ok cause I kept writing anyway 😅 I’d love to know what you guys think about it. I’m trying to better myself as a writer and I figure the only way to do it is to write what I want and post it even if I’m scared. Also it’s like a fanfic so who tf cares it’s just fun.

Masterlist

The mornings in summer were cool and a blessing before the hot California sun seized the rest of the day. Birds chattered in the distance and lawn mowers hummed, giving off the scent of fresh cut grass. The smell of bacon and the clatter of pots and pans snaps Eddie out of his slumber.

Wiping drool from his mouth, he sits up throwing the sheets off of himself, his unruly curls sticking up in every direction, bangs smashed to each side of his temples.

Stretching with a deep groan, he swipes up his shirt off the floor and tosses it on. In the last few days he fell into routine with the household. Breakfasts at the table rather than in a rush on his way out the door, assigned chores, and of course a phone call to Wayne every other day, providing him updates on how he’s been doing so far.

—

Wayne had been worried about Eddie prior to him leaving Hawkins. His nephew wasn’t doing so well or at least that’s what it looked like in between all the drinking, smoking, and restless nights, hearing Eddie in his room every evening, doing anything but sleeping only for him to emerge in the morning with purple eye bags and bloodshot eyes.

It got to a point that Wayne didn’t know what to do anymore and god forbid, he wasn’t going to let his nephew, practically his son, drink himself to death. Smoke himself out of reality. Disappear right before him.

Wayne was never one to bring up emotions or ask for help but he sure as hell wasn’t going let this continue. Cringing at the thought of asking for any type of help or advice, he forced himself to call up the one person who might understand and be able to offer a smidge of hope to him. Maybe tell him that his nephew isn’t too far gone and that he can get out of this rut. Anything.

That’s when he called up Marlene, one of his oldest friends. “Mar, I just don’t know what I’m sposed’ to do. He’s walkin’ around damn near lookin’ like a corpse.” He explains through his flip phone. She suggests getting him professional help, therapy, something. Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Y’know we don’t got the money for that.” She then offers something that Wayne sees a glimmer of optimism in.

She brings up an idea to have Eddie come stay with her, as long as he needs. “He should get out of there, it won’t help if he has to be faced with harassment every day. I think all the drinking and drugs provide him an escape. If we get him out of there it could help. He could find something out here, figure himself out.” She says. Wayne is hesitant not because he doesn’t trust Marlene but he doesn’t trust people.

People have always made Eddie feel like the freak, the outcast, the murderer’s son. Everywhere he went he was met with unforgiving stares, individuals whispering about him as he walked by, men of the town would even start fights with him. Just to assert their dominance over him as if to say “know your place”. Although they wouldn’t always win, Eddie was lean but he was strong. Growing up in the trailer park had its perks and being able to pummel someone to the ground when he needed to was one of them.

Wayne knew Eddie could hold his own physically but mentally he knew it destroyed him. Being held to a standard that his father set when he was only seven stuck with him, Wayne knew even if Eddie never talked about it. Refused to talk about it.

So when Marlene awaits an answer on the other end of the phone, all Wayne can think about is how wrong it could go should someone out in California figure out Eddie’s past and treat him how he’s always been treated. But then he envisions how right it could go too. Eddie could start fresh, he’d have Marlene and Jocelyn and wouldn’t be completely alone, experiencing something other than Hawkins all by himself. All he knew his whole life was Hawkins AKA Bigot Central.

He agrees and from there, he has to prepare to bring up the concept to Eddie. It would only work if he was on board. The idea of conveying his worry to Eddie in words was terrifying. Munson men didn’t talk about feelings.

That evening when Eddie stepped into the trailer after work, kicking his heavy oil covered boots off, Wayne sat up from the couch. “Ed, I need to talk to you.” He demands, gesturing to the spot next to him. Eddie gives him a suspicious stare, pulling his hair out of the low bun he sported. He slowly makes his way next to Wayne, plopping on the couch, the springs squeaking in protest.

“Now, m’ not gonna get mushy with you but here’s what I will say.” Wayne starts. “What you been doin’ lately ain’t good for you. Drugs, drinkin’, work, repeat. Comin’ home all banged up and bleedin’.” He explains, blue eyes staring straight into Eddie’s. “Wayne we don’t need t—“ “I’m talkin’, son. And you’re gonna sure as shit listen cause it’s what’s good for you.” Wayne is firm with his words. Eddie’s lips press into a tight line as he waits for Wayne to continue.

“I get it, this town hasn’t been good to ya. But that don’t mean you get to act like a goddamn college kid every night. I figure there ain’t really any way to stop you but I talked to Marlene—“ “You called Marlene! Why the fuck—“ Eddie is cut off again. “She thinks it’d be good for you to stay with her for some time, however long you want. Get away from these people, figure yourself out without havin’ to confront a mob everywhere ya go.”

“Wayne I can’t even afford to live in this shit hole of a town, how am I gonna pay rent out on the west coast! Are you trying to set me up for failure!?” Eddie seethes, hands grabbing at his curls in distress. Wayne feels hurt by his insinuation at first but comes to the conclusion that Eddie is scared, having known nothing but this small town his entire life.

Wayne closes his eyes and exhales. “Ed, we’re tryin’ to help. Marlene isn’t chargin’ rent, you just gotta help out. Y’know chores. Earn your keep. She wants to help. She knows how these people can be, she experienced it firsthand too.” He says. “I’m not charity—I-I’m not—“ Eddie struggles to find words. “You’re family to her, Ed! Remember! Her and your mom, they were there for each other and that also means she’s there for you too.” Wayne voices, attempting to keep the emotion to a minimum. Eddie’s big brown eyes soften and he slumps back against the couch.

He has no words and he refuses to go into this territory. He can’t. Without another sound, he stands up and heads to the bathroom, slamming the door to signify that this conversation is over.

Wayne feels defeated and hopeless. The rest of the night carries on, he eats one of his TV dinners on the couch watching Jeopardy like every other night. Eddie is still in the bathroom, the sound of the shower is heard from where Wayne sits, the pipes singing through the walls. Eventually the water turns off and minutes go by. Eddie emerges from the bathroom, curls dripping and a towel around his waist. He focuses on Wayne with intensity before softening his features ever so slightly. “I’ll go.” He states before padding off to his room.

He’ll never admit it but the smallest smile graces Wayne’s face.

—

Downtown is much busier than back home. Cars are constantly speeding past, traffic builds up at the lights, and there’s a man selling fruit on the corner. Eddie has witnessed so much in so little time as he walks along the damaged sidewalk. So far he’s handed his resume to four auto shops. Jocelyn assisted him in creating one that would stand out and highlight his skills.

He finishes handing in the last copy to one more shop before they hire him on the spot, letting him know he starts on Monday. Things are okay, things are going to be okay, he reminds himself through his doubt.

On his way out he bumps into something, another body, shorter than him. You let out a small chirp as you attempt to enter the shop but instead collide with something firm.

“Sorry-“ you both say simultaneously. You look up to find none other than Eddie Munson, now grinning down at you. He smells like tobacco and something wood-like you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s nice. His curls are as wild as when you met him a few days ago. “Hey.” He greets you, his eyes have a twinkle in them and you’re in a trance. “I was just—“ you begin to stumble over your words. “Something wrong with your car?” He asks. “Y-yeah it’s making all this noise and I put off taking it in so… that’s what I’m doing…now.” You awkwardly answer.

He leans in toward you before quietly saying “I could take a look at it. If you want. I won’t overcharge you unlike some—you know maybe we should talk outside. I don’t wanna get fired when I haven’t even worked a shift yet.” He ushers you back out the front door of the shop, the air conditioning vanishing as the heat takes back over. “You sure? You don’t have to.” You fiddle with the car keys in your hand.

“Yeah it’s no problem. You can drop it off at Mar’s and I’ll take a look at it when I get back.” He assures you. “Wait, did you say you work here?” You backtrack. He’s squinting at the sunlight as he answers. “Yeah, just got hired actually. Just don’t tell em’ I stole one of their customers.” He raises his brows and gives you a stern look although you can tell he’s playing around. “Noted.” You agree, your face feeling hot and it’s not just from the sun.

There’s a silence among the two of you, you awkwardly shuffling your feet on the concrete. “Not gonna lie, I don’t have shit left to do til’ Monday.” Eddie breaks the silence. “So I could just take a look at your car now.” He admits. With that, he follows you in his van back to Jocelyn’s house. Meanwhile, you’re giving yourself a mental pep talk the whole way back, simultaneously scolding yourself for being so uncool.

—

Condensation drips down the tall glasses of lemonade as you carry them out from the house to the front yard where Eddie’s head is tucked beneath the hood of your car, the mid-afternoon sun blazing.

Except when you left a few minutes ago to get him and yourself something to drink he was wearing a shirt. Now he’s all sweaty, tattoos littered along his torso and chest, his hair in a low bun with some strands escaping to frame his angelic face, and his happy trail on display. His rings are discarded on a small workbench he found next to the house that he had dragged over.

He’s gorgeous, lean but not pumped with muscle. His arms aren’t bulging but the flex in his bicep when he moves his arm a certain way does things to you. He has a rag hanging out of his back pocket, covered in grease. The image before you is nothing like you’d ever seen before.

You try and shake the thoughts forming about him in your head, setting the glasses down on the workbench. “Mar made some fresh lemonade with the lemons out back, so I brought you some. Hope that’s okay. Or I could get you water instead.” You watch as he tinkers with something in the engine, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth in concentration.

“No, no, that’s perfect. Thanks—fuck.” He grunts out of frustration. “I’m gonna need to get a new part for your car. Sorry about that, Peach.” Peach? “Probably not gonna be able to use it for a couple days til’ I find what I need.” He finishes. You nod in understanding. “Why—why Peach?” You ask timidly. He shrugs. “Just seem sweet is all.” He smiles and glances at you for a brief moment as he messes with something else in the engine. “Like a peach.”

“Jocelyn’s got a nickname too.” He continues, voice somewhat muffled since he’s hovering over the engine again. “Oh?” You urge him to complete his thought. “Yeah, fuckin’ grumpy ass.” He turns to you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. At this you laugh. “Do you know the shit she’s given me in the short time I’ve been here? Almost beat me to a pulp for taking too long in the bathroom. I mean Jesus Christ.” Eddie’s rolling his eyes dramatically. “She has a way with words.” You state, watching as he finishes up and closes the hood.

His hands are covered in black streaks, some sneaking their way up his forearms as well. “Well, so do I.” He says, taking the rag out of his back pocket and wiping his hands off. As he turns his face to the side you can’t help but notice a little silver hoop earring dangling from his ear.

There it is again, that hot and heavy feeling. You feel your cheeks starting to tint pink and you can only hope that he doesn’t notice. “But I’ll—uh let you know when she’s done.” He taps the hood of your car twice with his hand. “If you’re okay to leave it here. Really wouldn’t recommend driving it home at this point. Could’ve fallen apart on you at any moment, Peach.” He enunciates the nickname with a grin. This is so embarrassing, you can’t stop the color from taking over your cheeks, can’t even look him in the eye with how charming he is.

“Yeah, no for sure. It’s not like I drive to work anyway.” You say crossing your arms nervously. He grabs his shirt from the workbench, draping it over his shoulder before grabbing the glass of lemonade, taking a long gulp. And god, how could he look so good doing the most mundane things?

“Well I’m gonna go get cleaned up. You need me to drive you home or are you gonna hang here?” He asks. “I uh, think I’ll just hang out til Jos gets home. She should be here soon.” You take a sip from your glass. Eddie gulps down the rest of his lemonade, some of it escaping the glass and trickling down his chin and to his chest. Why was everything he did so erotic to you?

“Thanks for the lemonade.” He says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a small smile appearing. His face is flushed from the heat, lips a pretty shade of pink. You can’t seem to respond before he’s sauntering back into the house, leaving you a flustered mess in the yard.

—

You’d been waiting around for Jocelyn in the garage for around an hour before texting her, asking her where she was. Her college classes should have ended already. She responds letting you know that she was at the library with a study group, not sure how long she’d be.

Sighing, you kick your feet up on the coffee table. Guess you were going to have to find something to do with your evening which wasn’t uncommon. You always hung out at Jocelyn’s even if she wasn’t there, busying yourself with playing with the dogs or helping out Marlene, even working from your laptop.

Jonathan would probably also be at the study group which meant Argyle would follow him and Will and El wouldn’t be coming around tonight since he was their ride. In a way, you felt like everyone had a pairing or a group. Jonathan, Argyle, and Jocelyn were always on campus together, always exchanging inside jokes from classes or something that happened that day. Will and El, while they were a little bit younger, both being 19, they were also taking courses at another campus a few cities over. And then you just had work.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but feel that your decision not to go to college hindered your social life but it wasn’t even that. Everyone was around all the time regardless of their class schedules. If they weren’t at their classes they were almost always in the garage. It had to be the dynamic set out from the very beginning.

You were the quieter one, the more soft spoken one, the tie breaker if Jonathan, Argyle, and Jos got in an argument over something and couldn’t make a decision or if Will and El were bickering about where to eat. Your role was essential when Jonathan and Will got into disagreements however those never seem to end seeing as they’re brothers. Something in you just felt that while Jos was considered your best friend, you just weren’t bonded to everyone in the way that they were bonded to each other. Will and El were inseparable but it didn’t feel that way with yourself or anyone in the group.

It wasn’t to say you didn’t feel loved by your friends because you did. There was just something missing, a void that wasn’t being filled no matter how hard you tried. No one would ever notice but you were drowning in self doubt and lacked the confidence to swim back to the surface and ask for help.

In the distance, the sky is fading into hues of purples and pinks, a cotton candy mess of clouds consuming the skyline. The day is coming to a finish as the city just beyond the view of the reservoir glimmers like a jewelry box. You can just barely see it from where you’re sitting but it's still hypnotizing. Life still continues even into the dark of the night, the hustle of people working their night shifts prominent among the millions of lights in the distance.

“Hey, where is everyone?” Eddie strolls into the room, breaking you from your provoking thoughts. His hair is damp and he’s wearing a black muscle tee and some black basketball shorts. Some small tattoos are scattered throughout his legs. His curls look fresh and not as frizzy as before and he smells faintly of aftershave. Not the gross kind that’s too strong but just a subtle scent.

“Class, I guess.” you mutter, taking your legs off the coffee table and sitting up straighter. “I was just gonna get going.” Before you can stand up Eddie is slumping onto the couch next to you, a beer in his hand that he had just grabbed from the fridge in the kitchen. “I don’t bite y’know, Peach.” he pops the cap to the beer off and tosses it onto the coffee table as he takes a sip. You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to answer. “You’re just gonna leave the second I sit down?” he continues, brow raised, offense in his voice. “Well I uh–no–” his eyes narrow and then travel across your face as you stutter before he displays a huge grin. “I’m just fucking around, don’t let me tell you what to do. I was just gonna chill out here for a little bit. If that’s cool with you.” he settles back into the couch, resting his head against the back of it.

“Yeah, it’s basically your house isn’t it? At least while you’re here, like you live here.” you manage to say. “I mean, it seems like you basically live here too and you’ve been here longer so you have the authority to kick me out if anything.” he mentions. You just nod in response, focusing your sight on a rip in your denim shorts rather than his face.

You don’t know where it comes from but before you can even think your mouth is already running. “Have they shown you around yet? We could like–take a walk and I could show you around the area…I don’t know.” you offer. Mentally, you’re now kicking yourself because why would he be interested in hanging out with you for the night? Why would he entertain the idea when he was probably waiting for everyone else?

“Let’s go.” he smiles, finishing off his beer and throwing his shoes on. You’re surprised by his answer, not because you think he would just simply tell you no but because you’re you and he seems enthusiastic if anything. But you’re boring and that enthusiasm won’t last long, you know it. That’s how it usually goes, right?

Eventually the gravel is crunching below your heels as you walk alongside Eddie down the driveway. The air is dry and it's still warm despite the sun no longer hanging in the sky. Eddie’s hands are shoved in his pockets and as you sneak a quick glance at him from the corner of your eye, you notice a chain with a guitar pick dangling from his neck, the jewelry reflecting off one of the street lights as you approach the road.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asks, pulling out a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. You shake your head in response as you decide to veer off to the right, the street crumbly from not being maintained for a while. Eddie follows your lead. “Been trying to quit so I only let myself have one a day. You smoke?” he questions, you hear the lighter flickering before he inhales as you keep your gaze on the broken asphalt beneath you. The scent of tobacco soon fills your nose. You take slow steps in rhythm with him, lazily shifting from one foot to the other. “No, I don’t. Never tried before. Cigarettes, at least.” you say.

He just nods in understanding. “I used to smoke so much, we’re talkin’ like chain smoker. Shit was nasty. But I’ve been trying to cut back and quit. Mostly been smokin’ weed.” he explains. “Well you’re gonna love what Jonathan and Argyle smoke. The stuff you find out here is unreal.” you tell him. You almost frown at the thought. It seems like so far you have had the opportunity to hang out with Eddie one on one more than anyone else but you’re certain that will change and once again you will be on the backburner.

“Good cause I’m gonna need it.” he laughs. You haven’t gotten very far, the house still a couple yards away behind you as you both had been leisurely making your way along the street. He clears his throat, cigarette hanging in between his fingers, there’s a look in his eye. You can’t quite pinpoint what it is, maybe a bit mischievous? “I don’t mean to hijack your tour or anything but let's go over there.” he chimes in, pointing to the reservoir, the concrete part at the opposite end of the field. There is a ‘no trespassing’ sign displayed a few feet away and a sparkle in his eyes as he looks from you to the sign and back.

You’d crossed the field a few times in the past to sit on the part that appears to be like a dam with no water to block. No one’s ever said anything but you feed into Eddie’s antics. “If we get caught–” “I’ll go down for the crime, don’t you worry.” he smirks, throwing the cigarette butt on the ground before stomping it out and then picking it back up, putting it back in his pocket. You give him a questionable look before he elaborates. “Bad for the environment…” You can only laugh in response.

—

The city stares back at the two of you, lights sparkling as a treasure chest filled with gold and jewels would. You stand on the concrete dam overlooking the sight before you. Eddie’s eyes are filled with wonder, huge pools of honey taking it all in. “Can I be honest?” he says next to you. “Sure.” you respond. “I’ve never seen something like this before. I mean I’ve seen a city before but it didn’t look anything like this.” he says, his stare remaining in front of him.

“That’s fair, Indiana’s a lot different than here.” you say. “A lot different.” he emphasizes. He sits himself down on the ground, bringing his knees to his chest. You join him, sitting criss-crossed. Eddie finally tears his gaze from the city, shifting it to you. “So tell me about everyone.” he says. “What do you mean? You’ve met them.” you respond. “Yeah but what’s everyone like? I’ve only known them for like less than a week.” he elaborates. “Well, you know Jos. She’s my closest friend. And then Will and El are like the twins around here. They’re always together. El acts like Jos’s little sister and she’s a party animal once you get her started. Will’s shy around new people but he’s super funny.” you explain with a small smile. Eddie’s full attention is on you, listening intently. “And then there’s Jonathan and Argyle, they’re complete stoners. Will is Jonathan’s brother if they didn’t tell you yet. Sometimes they don’t tell new people they’re brothers and wait to see how long they can go without telling them, it’s super weird. Argyle is super chill, he’s usually up for anything.” you finish.

Eddie tilts his head to the side. “What about you?” he asks. His voice is quiet, almost as if he could disrupt the calm atmosphere you two created. You stare down at the ground, fidgeting with a pebble. What about you? What was there to tell about you? Not much, you decide. But he wasn’t going to make this easy and you knew that.

“I’m just me.” you sigh, giving him a sad smile. His face falters at this. “Yeah, you’re you.” he says intrigued. “Tell me about you.” he pushes. What were you supposed to tell him? I have deeply rooted emotional trauma which makes it hard for me to get close with others? No, he would run for the hills. “I’m–” you try again, unable to find the words. “I have to get home.” you could punch yourself for the words that involuntarily left your lips. You panicked and now you’re going to regret ending the night early.

“Do you really?” Eddie challenges you, almost as if he can read you like a book. His eyes are burning a hole in you. It’s hard to look at him because you know you’re lying and he knows it too. “Yes.” you lie again. He looks at you in speculation and sighs, giving in as he stands up. You follow, dusting your legs off. “I can drive you then.” is all he says.

Now you worry that you’ve angered him, that you pissed him off and now he’s never gonna interact with you again other than when he’s forced to when everyone else is around. The fear that you’ve ruined another good thing because you couldn’t get over yourself bubbles within you.

Eddie walks in front of you, making his way down from the dam along the slope of concrete and onto the field, you’re not far behind. He’s giving you the silent treatment, you think to yourself. You barely even know him and he’s already done with you. That is until you hear his voice speak up as he glances behind at you, a smile on his face. “Thanks for trespassing with me.” He’s not mad? “No problem.” You respond confused.

The two of you make your way back to Jocelyn’s in a quiet but comfortable silence, now that you know he’s not mad, or at least not showing it. Approaching the open garage, you hear voices laughing and bantering. Everyone must be home. Sure enough, you and Eddie walk into a room full of your friends. “Heyyyy!” Jonathan greets from the couch he’s melted into. His eyes are bloodshot and a grin seems permanently etched into his face. Looking at Jocelyn and Argyle also attached to the couch, Jocelyn cuddling a pillow to her chest, you realize you just missed their post class smoke sesh. You’d usually be a participant had you been around but you don’t mind.

Will and El are seated on the cushioned bench on the other side of the garage doing homework. Will seems reluctant to participate but does so anyway as he shuffles through the flashcards he’s holding. Highlighters are scattered among the binders littered on the floor next to them. Will offers a “hey” while El greets you with a “hi” and a wave.

“What’s up?” Eddie asks as he plops himself next to Jonathan. “Where have you brochachos been?” Argyle questions looking between you and Eddie. Jos gives you a quick look as if something’s up but you return a stern one back to her so she drops it.

“I was showing him around and he wanted to see the reservoir.” You explain. “Why the hell did you wanna see that out of all things?” Jos just about yells at Eddie with a puzzled look. “It said no trespassing so you know I had to.” He smirks. “Fight the man, dude.” Jonathan fist bumps Eddie. “Thanks?” he responds.

“So, Eddie The Wise…” Argyle begins before Will chimes in. “Hey! It’s Will The Wise!” Argyle chuckles mischievously. “I love riling that little dude up. His eyes get all big and he starts freakin’ out, it’s classic man.” He laughs a little harder than necessary. “Whew!” He wipes the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes while Jos and Jonathan laugh along with him. “Anyway, how are you liking Californ-i-ay?” he asks.

“Can’t complain so far.” Eddie replies, and you swear he shoots a glance at you for a brief second. “Peach has been showin’ me the ropes.” he jokes. So he definitely glanced at you. “Who’s Peach?” Jonathan questions, confusion evident in his features. Eddie gestures to you with a tip of his chin, his lashes are casting shadows over his rosy cheeks, no doubt sunburned from being outside more than he’s used to this past week. “She’s too nice to everyone!” Eddie explains. Jos, Argyle, and Jonathan all share a look, Jonathan wiggling his eyebrows before shrugging it off. You shoot each of them a glare as you speak up. “I’m gonna head home now, it’s starting to get late and we have a long day tomorrow.” you remind them of the trip to the beach that was planned.

Eddie drove you home that night just like he did the first time just days ago. And hopefully there would be many more, you think to yourself. If you were lucky enough, if you were strong enough to let him in. If that was even his intention.

–

“Sunscreen, towels, sandwiches, drinks, and where is my…” El lists off the necessities until she’s looking around puzzled, lips in a pout and eyebrows scrunched. “My book!” she yells as Argyle mindlessly flips through the pages while he leans against Eddie’s van, back doors wide open as Jonathan is tossing in an umbrella. El snatches the book from Argyle’s grasp, tucking it into her canvas tote bag hanging off of her shoulder. “I wasn’t gonna hurt it!” Argyle defends, shoving his hands into the pockets of his bright teal swim trunks. Scoffing and rolling her eyes, El makes her way back to the house to gather anything else they may have forgotten.

Eddie passes her through the doorway carrying two beach chairs. “Good morning, Sunshine!” he just about shouts in her ear. She flinches, her bangs momentarily falling into her eyes. “Good morning?” she responds as he continues walking. “If I have to be up early and ‘get glad’ as Mar says, then so do you!” he sing songs from down the driveway. She waves him off before making her way into the kitchen where you and Will had been making the rest of the sandwiches for the day.

“You won’t catch me making a bologna sandwich, I’m not doing it.” Will cringes as you’re handing him the container of meat, all processed and packaged in perfect circles. “Well I’m working on the turkey ones.” you whine, dropping the container in front of him, returning to your task of smothering mayo along the white sandwich bread. “And I’m working on the peanut butter and jelly ones.” he puts on an exaggerated frown. “Will, you’re literally on your last one.” you argue. Will starts to mimic you in a high pitched voice. “Oh my god, I’ll do it!” El chimes in with annoyance, dropping her tote bag on one of the chairs near the table, making her way next to you at the kitchen island.

“Who even requested bologna anyway?” El questions as she steals the butter knife from you to slather some mayo on the bread. You give her a glare but she pays no mind so you drop it, grabbing another knife from the drawer. “Who do you think?” Will finishes off his last PB&J, pushing the pieces of bread together and packaging it in a sandwich bag and then into the small red cooler on the counter. “Argyle.” El seethes as she pulls a piece of the over processed meat out of the container, a disgusted look on her face. They didn’t hate each other by any means but he knew how to push El’s buttons and she did nothing to hide it.

You finish off the sandwiches just as Jocelyn stampedes down the stairs wearing her black denim shorts which used to be jeans but she cut them at the knee and a cropped white band shirt, showing off a hint of her torso. “Let’s go, losers!” She grabs her sunglasses from the counter and heads toward the door. “Be safe!” you hear Marlene yell from the top of the stairs.

Everyone meets up at the end of the driveway, piling into the van with the beach essentials. There are no seats in the back so you just grab a spot where space is available. Eddie drives and Jonathan calls shotgun. The engine is rumbling to life and before you know it you're on the road, only a 30 minute drive around the mountain and through the coastal cities.

–

The air is more crisp than inland and it's still overcast since it was still early. Families walk along the sidewalks, dads carrying foldable lawn chairs and pool toys, moms herding the kids while carrying diaper bags and other miscellaneous items. The chatter in the car was continuous throughout the whole drive, the seven of you leaving no room for silence. Except for of course when you all stopped for a mandatory gas station run, leaving everyone with their selected snack and drink before heading down to the beach. It was a ritual you all had.

The parking lot comes into view and so does the open ocean along with the sand you couldn’t wait to dig your toes into. The water is a deep blue compared to the lighter blue of the sky. You spot the pier and the little diner at the end, hoping you’d get to treat yourself to a milkshake later on. Eddie had to circle the parking lot a few times before actually finding a spot. “It’s baby’s first beach trip!” Jos yells as she crawls toward the front of the van, slapping her hand on Eddie’s shoulder. He rubs his shoulder, putting the van in park and not even a second later everyone is rushing out of the van.

You can hear the waves smacking the shore, smell the salt in the air, you can almost feel the cool water against you as you play in the waves and even taste the saltwater when you get hit in the face by one that was bigger than you estimated. But first you have to help with carrying everything from the van down to the sand which is the worst part. But not as bad as having to lug it all back at the end of the day. You opt to carry one of the smaller coolers and some towels, everyone else finding something to carry. It was nice having so many people though, you didn’t have to make multiple trips. Unlike the time you, Jocelyn, Jonathan, and Argyle went to the beach and overpacked, the four of you had to make two trips out of it between the beach toys, a tent Argyle insisted on bringing, chairs and food, among other things you can’t even remember.

The shore was populated with families and groups of people seeing as it was a Saturday in the beginning of Summer. The sand was warm, almost hot on your feet. Jonathan managed to point out a spot that would fit your group perfectly among the crowds. It was a little ways down from the pier but not too far, complaints were still heard from Jos and Argyle though, they just wanted to drop everything and run into the water. Towels were laid out, the coolers were set in the sand near the foldable chairs, and a colorful umbrella was propped up. Everyone claimed their respective spots to lay out for the day in between swimming and playing in the sand.

El situated herself on her towel underneath the umbrella, pulling out her book as she laid back. You decided on a faded Star Wars towel, setting your bag on the corner and pulling out some sunscreen to apply to your face and body. Will held his hand out for some as he claimed the towel right in between you and El. You obliged, squeezing the bottle of lotion onto his palm as you spread it along your cheeks and nose. Jonathan and Argyle were already throwing a frisbee back and forth, not even shedding their shirts yet. Jos sat in one of the beach chairs with her shirt discarded in her back pocket, now sporting a neon orange bikini top with her sunglasses sitting comfortably on her face while she basked in the sun.

With another glance around at your friends, you can’t help but notice one is missing. That is until you shift your gaze toward the water where Eddie is already standing just before the very shallow part where the tide rises up and down. The sun is starting to overtake the overcast morning, bringing with it a bright Summer day. There’s a slight breeze and with it, the occasional mist of sea water. His curls are dancing with the wind as he overlooks the water. He hasn’t even taken his black converse off yet, wearing a ripped up black muscle shirt with ‘Metallica' across the chest and black swim trunks.

You avert your gaze as he begins to turn back around toward the beach towels. You remember what Jos said in the car and gather that he’s probably never seen an ocean before. He kicks his shoes off and lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it at Jocelyn’s face and yelling “come on!” before running back down to the water, this time stopping until it's at his waist. Jos throws the shirt down on the chair next to her, tugging her shorts off and then running to the water as well. She reaches Eddie and without hesitation, pushes him forward, sending him face first into one of the waves. You laugh to yourself at the sight but when you don’t see Eddie resurface for a few seconds your heart drops.

Suddenly he pops up from beneath the water, shoving Jos into another oncoming wave which causes her to lose her balance and land ass first as the water rushes over her. Their shouts and giggles are muffled by the sound of the crashing waves as well as Will chattering next to you about some new movie he wants to see.

With courage, you decide to join them inviting Will and El as you stand up and discard your shirt and shorts. El declines, too engaged with her book but Will agrees and follows. The water is ice cold and shocks your body as you take your first steps along the wet sand into the water. But in contrast to the hot sun blazing from above, it also feels refreshing. As you approach Jos, a splash of water meets your face causing you to gasp. “Shit, sorry!” Eddie apologizes. “Yeah sorry, Peach!” Jos emphasizes the nickname, this brings a blush to Eddie’s face but he’s hoping the sun has already burned him enough to cover it.

Scooping up some water with your cupped hands, you toss it at Jos but it does little damage since she’s already been engulfed in the waves and you’re still halfway dry. She starts doing the same, cupping her hands and flinging the water at you, your skin slightly stinging at the cold shock. “Jos, it’s cold, it’s cold, okay—okay!!” You surrender, throwing your arms up in front of you to shield yourself. “Get in dummy!” She splashes once more.

Eddie is standing near you, pulling a piece of stray seaweed out of his curls, his face wrinkled in concentration while his torso is glistening with seawater, sparkling even as the sunlight beams off of him. His chest and arm tattoos are on full display and you subtly try and take them in, your attention drifting to the black widow just below his collarbone. As you scan over the artwork, Jocelyn is now peeking behind Eddie at you, gesturing that she was going to push him yet again. Except this time she pushes him straight into you.

The next thing you remember is slimy skin on skin, the sand scraping against you as your back crashes against it along with some making its way into your swimsuit bottoms, and the loss of breath from the impact of another body on top of you. Eyes scrunched shut and hands clenched, you realize just who is on top of you can you can’t seem to face reality. The tide continues rolling in, covering everything but your face, however you did manage to ingest a large mouthful of seawater on your tumble down, leaving you with a salty aftertaste and sand particles wedged in between your teeth that you might still feel in a few days.

Exhaling a deep breath, you convince your eyelids to flutter open and above you is none other than Eddie, arms on either side of your shoulders and stomach touching yours, a little too intimate for your comfort. His large deep brown doe eyes are looking directly at you with surprise in them, seaweed still hanging from one of his curls. You could swim in his eyes if the world around you paused and he allowed it.

“Um—“ you begin, slowly sitting up. He takes his weight off of you and starts to back up on his knees. “I’m—she pushed me—I’m so sorry.” He stumbles over his words while running a hand through his tangled hair, his fingers getting caught. “No it’s okay—“ “Here.” As he stands up he offers you his hand which you now notice is naked without his chunky rings. His grip is firm but somewhat gentle, you could feel that he was trying to be careful. As his fingertips graze your wrist while he pulls you up, you note that they are slightly rough, most likely calloused from playing guitar and his work as a mechanic.

“Thanks” you mutter almost under your breath, brushing some of the wet sand off of your legs. Eddie still appears to be flustered, his stare not once leaving the water in front of where he’s standing. Everyone else seems to have already moved on from Jocelyn’s stunt, continuing to play in the waves as you recover from the awkward interaction.

Jonathan sneaks behind Will, a beach pale in hand while he silently fills it with water and then dumps it over his head with a maniacal laugh. They’re now the center of attention as they wrestle in between the waves. You’re thankful since it seems no one is going to mention what just happened. What was an innocent joke to Jos and your friends was actually a huge embarrassment in your eyes and your heart was still racing at any attention it may have brought to you.

—

Everyone took a break from crashing into the waves and messing around in the sand to eat lunch when the sun reached its peak in the sky. El started passing around sandwiches, asking each person what kind they requested for the day before delicately handing it to them along with a bag of potato chips. Jonathan tossed beers to Eddie and Jos, offering one to yourself and Argyle but the two of you declining. Argyle opted for a more natural substance whereas being under the influence of anything in public made you anxious.

By this point, Eddie’s shoulders, face, and torso were as red as a lobster since he neglected putting on any sunscreen. Everyone else's faces were sun kissed and slightly pink but nowhere near as bad as Eddie’s wicked sunburn. Your skin felt warm even being sat in the shade of the umbrella, taking Will’s spot next to El. Tan lines began forming, your hair was filled with sea salt, and it officially felt like Summer with the smell of coconut suntan lotion and hotdogs on a grill nearby filling your nose.

Will and El finished off their sandwiches and raced towards the water and not long after everyone else was wrapping up and scarfing down the last bites of their lunch. “I’m gonna go grab a milkshake from the diner, anyone want me to bring anything back?!” You shout as you throw your clothes on, not even bothering to button the denim shorts since you’d be back in the water soon enough anyway. “We’re good!” Jonathan shouts back with a thumbs up just as Argyle dunks him underwater.

“I’ll tag along if that’s cool.” You hear from behind you, not even realizing Eddie had still been lounging in one of the beach chairs with a beer held between his fingers. “What, so you can get even more burned?” You joke as you fish some cash out of your bag. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” He deadpans. His hair is twice as big as it normally is, the seawater giving him some added volume and his curls are extra coiled. Freckles are starting to appear more prominent along his nose and dusting just under his eyes along the tops of his cheeks. He almost looks like a surfer, the ones who are out every morning waiting to catch the biggest wave and you wouldn’t guess that he was from a small town in Indiana just by looking at him. Except for the fact that he has a massive sunburn, that’s what gives it away.

“Let’s go.” You nod toward the pier, sliding your sandals on. He throws his muscle tee back on but leaves behind his shoes, opting to walk all the way to the pier barefoot. “The grounds gonna get really hot.” You warn him as you start making your way over. “Psshh I grew up barefoot, especially in the Summer, I’ll be fine.” He waves you off.

The walk to the pier took about five minutes and you smiled to yourself every time Eddie let out a “shit!” under his breath. He may have underestimated the power of the California sun on the sidewalk that runs alongside the beach. Reaching the pier, you step onto the dark wood and head for the diner at the very end. Men are fishing on either side as you pass by, their poles resting against the railing.

The diner is small and can only seat so many people on the inside. It appears to be older with the wallpaper peeling and the cushions of the stools coming apart, the foam peaking through. Despite this, it’s as popular as ever. Every table is filled and the counter is fully occupied as patrons sip on their milkshakes and stuff themselves with burgers and fries. You can smell the grease from the kitchen, your mouth watering even though you’d just eaten. But the idea of a cookies and cream milkshake is far more enticing at the moment, creamy and delicious, your go to treat.

“Hi, what can I get you?!” The cashier behind the counter greets you with a grin. She’s a small enthusiastic woman with her sandy blonde hair clipped up and wearing a t- shirt with the diner’s logo on the chest. Sandra, her name tag reads. “Just a cookies and cream shake please.” You request kindly. “Make that two.” Eddie slaps down a $20 on the counter. “Oh you don’t have to—I wasn’t expecting you—“ “Already done.” He smirks as the cashier counts out his change, handing it back to him. “I’ll have those out in a few.” Sandra says as she returns to the kitchen window, shouting out the order for two milkshakes.

“Why’d you do that? I have money—here.” You try to place the cash in his hand but he just crosses his arms, hiding them from view. “Consider it compensation for knockin’ you over earlier.” He chuckles. You huff out of frustration, returning to people watching throughout the diner as you wait.

—

Walking down the pier with your milkshake in hand, you and Eddie slowly make your way back. The afternoon is just now shifting into golden hour and with it, Eddie has never looked more gorgeous. At least in the little time you’ve known him. The sunlight brings out new hues of caramel from his irises, a swirl of golden honey and a hint of molasses evident in them and while his skin is bright red he still has a glow to him. Lips plump and pink, he wraps them around the red straw while he enjoys his shake.

“So I’ve never been to the beach before.” He pipes up while he stares at a fisherman reeling in a large catch. “And while it should suck cause this sunburn hurts like a bitch, it’s been fuckin’ cool. Your friends are cool, y’know that?” He asks, dipping his finger in some whip cream from the top of his shake and licking it off. You can’t help but feel insecurity bubbling to the surface within you. Your friends are cool. Which meant that he didn’t include you, right? “Yeah. Yeah they’re pretty great.” You agree with your best smile.

“Yeah it’s way different than back home. It’s kinda like no one really gives a shit what I look like or how ‘scary’ I am.” He uses finger quotes. “Scary?” You ask. He nods as he gulps down some more of his shake. “I won’t get into it but let’s just say Hawkins is probably the worst place to live if you’re me.” He explains simply. “Actually… It is the worst place to live.” He decides. “I’m glad you’re liking it here at least. Are you planning on staying then?” You question as you come to a stop at the pier railing, deciding to remain there until you finish your shake. The horizon is now transforming into a burnt orange as the sunset just barely starts, still enough daylight left but the sun is slowly making its way down, bringing with it hues of pinks, purples, and oranges.

Eddie gazes out into the ocean before him, his shake now finished as he tosses it in a nearby trash can and rests his forearms on the worn down wood of the railing. “Dunno yet.” He says honestly, his eyebrows raising slightly as if to question himself. “There’s no plan. Just trying to figure shit out.” He admits, a melancholy undertone to his words. You take in his body language, his shoulders sunken in some kind of defeat and a barely there pout to his lips. “I think we’re all in the same boat believe it or not.” You try to offer him some comforting words with a sympathetic smile. He doesn’t give up much more to you as he returns a small smile. “I think we should get back before they leave us here.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

But you know. There’s something darker lurking below his surface. But who are you to want to uncover those parts of him if you can’t even offer those parts of yourself to anyone? Why should you be so curious as to what darkness clouds over him when you can’t even confront your own?

Eddie Munson was unknowingly making you question everything you knew. And whether that was a good thing or not was something you couldn’t determine right now.

~end~

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Masterlist

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #Cal dreamin’

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papasbaseball · 1 month

Text

Raphael x Tav (Clubs and Spades: Chapter 2)

Pairing: Raphael x F!Tav

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Alcohol, Affairs

Summary: Tav finds herself on the bad side of the President of the Fae Run Country Club. She agreed to work there as a favor, but he's determined to make her life a living hell. Will they both make it out of the summer without catching feelings?

Chapter Summary: Tav can't seem to get away from Mr. Hope, and now a certain pool boy is about to get her in trouble.

Word Count: 2,713 (Total 4901)

Notes: New Characters being introduced and their name changes

Astarion - Astor Aaron

Haarlep - Harold "Harry" Lepp

AO3 Link, Prev Ch: (Tumblr) (AO3)

The chicken salad sandwiches squished with each bite, the cold long since gone from the soggy filling. Quiet chewing mixed with the coughing of the ancient air conditioner that was duct taped to the wall as they wolfed down the stolen sandwiches. The air was heavy with the exhaustion from each person, or at least that’s what it felt like to me.

I stared at the already forming sunburn on my forearm as my jaw fought to mangle the sandwich enough to swallow. Mr. Hope had kept true to his word, forcing me to chase after him all eighteen holes. His posse had gotten a good laugh out of me when he’d asked me to take his swing on the 16th hole. The ball didn’t even make it off the teeing area, his club so heavy in my exhausted arms that I’d missed and knocked the ball off the tee. I didn’t even follow through all the way with my swing.

I took another bite of the sandwich, imagining that it was his head instead. He at least deserved that for the public humiliation.

“What’s on your mind, Tavioli?” Karlie said. She knew I hated that nickname.

“I’m just…” I said through a mouthful.

“Heard the Devil got you today,” Will chimed in. “What’d he make you do? Organize all the golf balls by weight?”

I let my gaze unfocus into the corner of the grimy concessions stockroom. They could have put cameras in here, but with how short-staffed we always were, I could see why they didn’t.

Karlie shoved Will off a box of bulk lemonade drink mix, starting a hushed squabble between them. I didn’t care if Karlie wanted to defend my wounded pride to Will, it was merely the hush of a water hazard as I was teeing up how to get back at Raphael.

“I heard from Ms. Zora that the President has a new puppy dog,” Astor said, the mirth barely contained in his voice. He fluffed a sheen of sweat out of his almost white hair, looking me in the eye with a mischievous glint. “She said she’d never seen him that mad before. Come on then, out with it: what did you do?”

“Nothing,” I said, packing up the rest of the mush sandwich. No reason to risk food poisoning, as much as I’d like to not show up to work tomorrow. “I made a mistake. That’s all.”

“No one makes a mistake around the President, darling,” Astor crooned. “Well… I guess you did. But it had to be pretty big for me to hear about it.”

I snap my dissociated gaze to the blond pool boy (how he kept his hair from turning green was beyond me). “Don’t you have some old lady to go fuck in the pool house?” I said.

“Touch a nerve?” He shoved off of the cracked red leather stool, scraping it back under the prep counter. “Let me give you some advice: Don’t go curling up with the club members on the premises. It’s a rookie mistake.”

He had whisked himself out the door before I could even process the obscene suggestion that I wanted to sleep with Raphael Hope. Everyone knew that the wives of the country club members would flock to the pool while their husbands played golf, just to drool into the chlorinated waters as he applied sunscreen every hour to cuts and crevices of his marble body. Most knew that occasionally he did entertain their fantasies for the right price. Now the commiseration crew that had packed into the concessions stockroom was looking as if I was going to follow in his footsteps.

“I told him his shirt was unbuttoned,” I confessed. “I didn’t know it was him and I might have gotten a little bit smart with my mouth.”

“Your entire tone was completely disrespectful,” Karlie said. “I’m surprised he didn’t fire you right there on the spot.”

“Karlie,” Will said, “just how bad was it?”

Karlie’s eyes went wide and she refused to look Will in the eye, only offering a sharp inhale at the painful memory. I got up to leave the concession stand when Will caught me by my sunburnt arm, the pain wiring my teeth together.

“You leave Mr. Hope alone, do you hear me?” he said. “You still owe me. I don’t need my recommendation getting fired before the end of the season.”

He was up for a big promotion, hopefully to athletics director, but he’d never say that, at least not in front of the others. I’d met Will on the first day of kindergarten. We became fast friends in that neither of us had gone to the preschool with the rest of the Fae Run Elementary students. He’d told me everything and a time or two even camped out at my house when his parents would get into a big fight, my parents taking care of him like their own son. How I ended up the one needing my criminal record scrubbed baffled me.

“I won’t do anything,” I said, pulling my arm back. “Don’t worry about me.” I pushed out the back door before he could see through that lie. I wasn’t done with Raphael Hope. That asshole was going to get what was coming to him, Will be damned.

-----------

The next time I caught sight of the Devil, he was arm in arm with a man much younger than him. The similarity of strong nose, cheekbone, and jaw would have struck anyone. Awfully strange to be draped on the arm of your brother… and even stranger to be kissing his cheek.

I hurried up folding the last few towels I had in the clean hamper, but Mr. Hope had beat me to the punch. His salmon shirt was buttoned even lower this time, and I could peak the bar of muscle in his stomach that shifted with every step. He’s just trying to show off, I told myself, wondering if he had spent the past few days with his shirt unbuttoned to his navel, hoping that he’d run into me just to piss me off. I smacked the thought away, thumping the last rolled towel on top of the others.

“Ms. Baldur,” that deep voice curled around me.

I take a breath before facing him. “I thought you liked calling me Tav?”

“That little game is boring now,” he said. “And so far today you have been well-behaved.”

“I could fix that,” I offered. I slung the empty hamper up onto my hip, turning to leave before he could snap. The thoughts of possible tortures he could convey were slipping my mind, but were undoubtedly swimming in his. He caught me by the arm.

“I see your jaunt in the sun is turning out quite nice.” He turned my free arm back and forth, examining the bronze that was finally coming through, accompanied by dead peeling skin. I felt like one of the river birches out in the parking lot, and I hoped that he wasn’t planning to peel off a piece of me like I’d seen the unattended children do more than once on my lunch break.

“Nothing a little ice and aloe vera couldn’t fix.” I went to leave again, but his grip remained firm, jerking me back into place.

“I was hoping that you might fetch some drinks for my husband and me. This heat can be quite unbearable.”

Yet you made me run in it 2 days ago.

“What can I get you?” I mustered in the brightest customer service voice I could manage.

“So eager to please,” he said. In a split second, the delight was lost. “I don’t buy it.”

I looked over his shoulder and there was Astor, as pale as ever, smirking up against the lifeguard stand watching the cat toy with his little mouse. I huffed. “What do you want?”

“Ahhh!” he groaned. “There’s the dog I remember.” He smiled, following my eyes over his shoulder, catching on Astor waving his fingers at me. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

The last thing I needed was those two meeting, me under his vulturine wing. “How can I be at your service today, Sir?”

“I would like one spritzer from the bar for my husband,” he said, “and a water, no ice for myself. Please make sure to bring them out in the proper manner, won’t you? I would hate to have to come up with a punishment for you today.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around why he wouldn’t just fire me if I dumped the drinks over him and his doppelganger lover. Looking past him, Astor was no longer looking at us, but instead seemed to be in some sort of lustful staring match with Raphael’s husband. Nothing was sacred to that man.

“I’ll do it,” I said, “but I want something for it.”

He let go of me, barring his arms across his barely covered chest with a laugh. The salmon of his shirt really did look good against the bronzed skin. I took my eyes off of it before he could accuse me of ogling for anything more than his shift in posture. “Letting you continue to work here is your reward.”

“You won’t fire me,” I said.

“Who said anything about firing you?” he replied.

I didn’t want to think about what he had planned in that sadistic tangle of his brain. I knew that you could get away with anything if you had enough money, and he had not struck me as the type to have bothered himself with purchasable morals.

I set the laundry hamper back down by the towel stand, never taking my eyes off of Mr. Hope, as I retreated back into the clubhouse. Even away from those murderous eyes, I couldn’t help but get the feeling that in the clubhouse hallways, I was a deer being hunted. Sure I’d been in with the wrong crowd before, but his eyes were like nothing I’d seen in that house Will had pulled me out of. The warm amber glow that charmed and invited had to have been made from dried blood.

I had to steady my voice when I got to the bar. When I was able to get the words out, the bartender had been more than happy to provide me with a drink tray, the drinks, and a smile of pity. The cast of anger over my soul had become apparent to me in that moment. Anger at myself for not taking more care in how I spoke, anger at all of the people who should have warned me of him but hadn’t made the effort besides slipping a few jokes about the Devil. The hissing cobra of resentment turned to Will before I slammed the basket lid shut.

The thought of spitting in his water tempted me, but I stuffed that back in the basket with the snake. My footsteps rolled across the damp concrete as I approached the Devil and his spouse, one baking in the sun, the other reading a pocket-sized novel, the cover yellowed enough to be from the 80s.

“I have a water for Mr. Hope and a spritzer for…”

Raphael’s husband removed the tanning foil from his face, eagerly plucking the spritzer off the tray. “You really are the most adorable thing,” he said, taking a healthy sip. “God, I swear they put crack in these things. Harry.”

I examined the tanning oil-covered hand he had extended, wondering if it was proper to shake it. The bartender hadn’t said anything about that when he had given me the crash course on serving. The cold side-glance from Mr. Hope sent my hand into Harry’s.

“I’m Tav.”

Raphael cleared his throat, eyebrow arching. I wiped my hand off on my black skort before handing him the still water.

“I changed my mind,” Raphael sighed. He twisted the glass in his hand, examining the clarity of the water. His gold Rolex glinted in the sunlight. “I would also like a spritzer.”

The snake threatened to leap out of the basket and bite him on the watch. Instead, I offered him the tray, letting him place the worthless water back on it.

“Raph,” Harry said, “Leave the poor girl alone. You know you can never make up your mind.” His drink was already half gone along with his public decency to play along with his husband’s sadistic games. “Tav, my sweetling, bring us two more spritzers. If he changes his mind again you can come drink with me and we’ll push him into the pool.” His eyes roamed up and down my body, stopping and picking out delectable morsels as if it were a charcuterie board. “Or we could throw you in. I’m sure you’re quite hot and tired.”

“Harold,” Mr. Hope bit. He shut his novel, placing it on the rippled glass of the poolside table.

“She’s delicious,” Harry laughed. “Don’t you think so?”

Mr. Hope snatched the still water off of my tray, his lip curling as he drank. “Cancel the spritzer orders,” he said, not even bothering to look at me. His gaze fired at Harry’s golden smirk. “And go find Ms. Zora. I don’t want to see you around the pool for the rest of the day. Is that clear?”

I nodded, offering a quiet ‘Yes, sir’ before tucking the tray back under my arm and making a beeline for the bar. Whatever their marriage problems, I wanted no part in it. I gave the bartender his tray back and nearly shed the rest of my sunburnt skin when I turned to see Astor, covered up just enough to be in the clubhouse.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you just the belle of the bath?” he chuckled. “I thought I was going to have to call security if Harry wouldn’t stop flirting with you.”

“I just introduced myself,” I said, pulling my hair back again into a bun I could be happier with.

“You’ll have to give me lessons sometime if that’s what an introduction gets you.” He tapped the counter twice, but the bartender flipped him the bird.

“You need to go back outside before you get in trouble,” I said. A strand of hair fell into my face, so I pulled out the elastic.

“I need to attend to one small matter of business first,” he said. He plucked the elastic from my hand and motioned for me to turn around with an expectant look.

I obliged him, hoping for this interaction to be over with. “If you want a free drink, you can forget it,” I said. “I’m not getting fired just because you want to party with the members.”

“I’m afraid it’s a little more than that,” he said, raking his fingers through my hair to fully straighten it. A shiver ran up my spine, but I relaxed my shoulders. “Harry has invited me back to his place on one condition: you also come.”

My eyes snapped open, but I dared not move my head. I said, “But Raphael-“

“Will be out for the night. He has a meeting with his law firm for a big client tonight. He won’t be home until at least 2.” Astor pulled the elastic tight, but didn’t let go of my ponytail.

“You need to keep me out of your affairs Astor. I won’t-“

He yanked the ponytail back, and I could feel the hard marble through his years-faded “Fae Run Swim Team” shirt. “I’m sure Ms. Zora would love to hear about how Will’s little friend has a track record, no?”

Ms. Zora wasn’t in charge of hiring decisions, but she had enough pull and enough hate for Will that with the right evidence she would be more than happy to pass the word along of my wrongdoings just to smear him. I bit my lip, feeling Astor’s breath come ragged on my ear.

“J-just tonight?” I said.

He let go of my ponytail and I slid further down the bar to stop him from grabbing it again.

“There’s a good girl. Meet me in the parking lot at 6.” His cheerful step almost skipped when he turned to see me one last time. “We are going to have such fun.”

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #bg3 fanfiction

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leslie057 · 3 months

Note

9a + 9b please 🙏

hello! thank you for the lovely combo

prompt game posted here

9a + 9b = call me lover + but one is pouting

word count: 3.7k

It isn’t right that she’s sad today, even less right that she’s playing up the sad, and that in doing this she hopes to work guilt into every part of him, like water into clay, like honey into comb.

Given their extra-special circumstances, she knows she shouldn’t be anything more than mildly annoyed with him about his inability to pronounce girlfriend. And that has to be the issue, pronunciation, because why else would he shy away from such an innocent word? There’s no reasonable excuse. It’s an easy statement to make: look, my girlfriend’s here. He can do it, with the same ease that he labels everything else of his, he can do it. It’s my camera, my spatula, my turn to drive, my shirt not yours and you can’t have it…all his, until she’s involved. No, they don’t own each other. But sometimes you have to lay claim to things in life.

You just have to.

He paints houses. Every day in West Somerville he does, from nine to dinnertime. Watertown and Brookline, too. But mainly Somerville, especially Winter Hill. Interior, exterior, deck, door, and drywall. Expensive houses, cheap houses, new and old houses, houses with picket fences. It’s just what Emerson is looking for, a teenage boy who really knows his way around a…picket fence?

But the gap year thing is okay, and he’s still here with her as she navigates everything, even if he didn’t want to apply for college until it was way too late. He can apply for next year.

He moved away, far away just for her, no college waiting for him at the end of the journey, willing and able to be the slow tagalong Somerville boy to her busy Boston girl. And they get to live together. Harmony of opposites applies, as it always has. His loyalty means the world, and for what it’s worth, he is the best rated decorator Lovell Painting’s ever had. Very committed to the job.

But now Mr. Lovell doesn’t know she’s his harmonious opposite, doesn’t know she’s the girl he’s bringing home the bread to (not a lot of bread, but so much more than you’d expect someone to get for slinging paint) (then again, there’s probably no slinging involved, because Jonathan clearly believes there is an art to the task) (he has a weird way of leaning into unbeaten paths, finding purpose in hushed, forgettable places) (it’s lovable, is what it is, when she manages to push away the feeling that he’s missing out by not being in school).

No, Mr. Lovell doesn’t know who she is, because her boyfriend didn’t say. Couldn’t bring himself to say. Couldn’t bring himself to say the G word.

She’d asked Lauren from the student paper to take her to him after class. She missed him, plus she thought he shouldn’t be all alone on his way back home. He does plenty of lonely driving throughout the week. And since Lauren does everything for everyone, she actually said yes. Fifteen minutes later, Nancy was at a place she’d never been before. Here they were at the end of October, and she hadn’t been. She had no idea where her five star trades-boy turned in his paintbrush at the end of the day.

She’d wandered in, into the little white office that likely used to be a shed, all open windows and whirring box fans and latex fumes. On a stool, he filled out his timesheet. She gave him a hug around the neck from behind, avoiding the sensitive surface of his sunburned arms.

Made him jump, then made him relax.

“Sorry, I knew that would scare you. I’m not trespassing, am I?”

“No, you—no, not trespassing at all. What time is it?”

She tilted her head sideways and consulted her watch. “5:11,” she said. Tilted her head more, more, more, trying to kiss his jaw and its underside.

Hung over his shoulders like that, she took her first deep breath of the day. Tendrils of dried paint stretched across his shirt collar and sleeves, the kind of spiderweb splatters that don’t come out in the wash. She watched him jot down a couple light-handed notes in all capital letters. His name was everywhere on the page and highlighted in some instances, an indication of overtime work. She had felt weird then for being judgy—felt bad—thinking maybe there was a chance he was where he needed to be. Not school, right here. Humble, dependable, and first-rate.

Then Mr. Lovell came in.

And ruined everything.

“Jonathan, you heading out soon?”

“Oh, right now, actually. Turns out we can’t pick up anything until tomorrow morning. Like, anything at all, they said.”

“Yikes. Oh well, then.”

“Apparently our order got delayed because of the tight space rollers.”

“Hm. Tight space rollers, they never have them in, do they?”

“No, sir, never. They never ever have anything below a 6 inch.”

She stayed still, reading the room. Gauging the boss. Lovell didn’t seem to mind her or her public display of affection. He was a youngish man, son to the original Mr. Lovell of Lovell Painting, tall and nonchalant with the look of a relatable salesman.

“Hey. Jake Lovell,” he finally said to her. “Don’t think I’ve met you before, how’s it going?”

“Hey, good, thanks.” In the subsequent silence she waited. Waited for what was sure to come. Oh yeah, sorry, this is my girlfriend, Nancy. This is Nancy, we just moved in together. This is the girl I told you about, Nancy Wheeler. We’ve been dating for almost two years. She’s the best. Nancy is the best. Hey, guess what, my girlfriend Nancy once repainted her little sister’s dollhouse from top to bottom, think we should hire her next?

He kept his mouth shut.

“I’m Nancy,” she sighed.

“Oh, okay, you’re Nancy.”

Had he heard the name before? If he had, that must have been all he heard. His eyes were brimming with confusion.

“That’s me,” she said and untangled herself from her betrayer, the one she’d been draped over like some sleepy starfish.

Starfish didn’t want to cling anymore.

“She’s Nancy,” he’d mumbled while clearing off the desk.

The eldest in the room clocked the tension between them. “Well, you know it was nice to meet you, Nancy, but I’ve gotta get going. Be careful around the mess, you look very professional in those clothes.”

She slid her hands down the sides of her thighs, black slacks swishing above high heels.

“You look very…casual, Mr. Lovell. Guess we’ll see you later.”

And that was it.

And that was then. This is now: now, she is pouting. The most pathetic pouting session she's had to date. This is textbook manipulation pouting and then some, this is wallowing in the events of the afternoon like they involved theft, fraud, and murder.

Is she putting on a performance here? Yes, duh, of course she is. But is she down about what he said (and didn’t say) earlier? Also yes. That part is real. He did make her sad.

Yes.

Lucky for her, she’s got tricks in her bag.

Exactly four tricks, to be precise, for this type of situation. One, a shower—a shower taken earlier than usual. To get away and to get out of restrictive clothing (restrictive clothing doesn’t mix well with sadness). No more black slacks, no more newsgirl blouse. No jewelry either, it’s totally unnecessary. Unless…keep your necklace on, if you want, since that can be played with. Really you just have to remember that comfort is what works. Wet hair is what works. An XL shirt works, and peach soap works, and so does a frown, and so does a thick pair of socks, for whatever reason.

Two is a book. Not a short book, pick a long book. Flip to the beginning to read. Beginnings are hard to get through, and he knows it. He will empathize. Three, lack of light. The less light in the room, the better. Not only have you chosen to start a long book after 5pm without having even eaten dinner, you’ve chosen to do so without sufficient reading light. That’s true misery.

Four, the most important trick, is a bad record. Just awful. It needs to be scratched, it needs to skip. Needs to skip a lot. Your record should make other records worry about where they’ll be in ten years. Jonathan Byers doesn’t want this for you; if you are his favorite person, and listening to music is the best thing anyone can do, your tolerance of a broken record will rile him. You deserve better. He will want to compensate for all the hurt caused by your subpar listening experience.

“Nancy?” he says from the doorway.

“Mhm.”

“Good shower?”

“Sure. Good shower.”

“You beat me to it.”

It’s an understatement. Without a word, she had headed for the shower. Very first thing she did when they got to the apartment. She went to turn the water on, still wearing her shoes, and waited for it to get hot, and never once looked back.

She curls in on herself on the bed, avoiding his gaze. “Since when did you decide you have first dibs on everything?” she murmurs to her book. To Middlemarch.

“Uh, no, it's not that, I just meant that I’m…pretty paint-y, at the moment. You know?”

The response is delivered innocently, harmlessly, lightly, and she almost considers backing down, ditching the majority of her plan or maybe all of it. Almost considers, before deciding against. (She has to soldier on; his adorable use of a made-up word doesn’t fix a thing, now does it?)

“Right.”

“There’s so much primer on my hands, it’s the worst feeling in the world. It’s so bad. It’s like…it’s like if someone brushed plaster right onto my palm and then let it harden. Overnight.”

“Mhm.”

A break in the tense conversation comes and gives those background noise record screeches their moment to shine. Leaning on the doorframe, he winces.

“So,” she shifts her body until the blanket slips, “did you need something, or…”

Their eyes meet. His are sleepy–his are suddenly charged with doubt, two dark wells of worry.

“No, nothing, I don’t…it…it seems like you might be the one that needs something?”

She huffs. It seems like she needs something? For that she won’t go easy on him. A fake cry might cross her mind, if she were a psychopath, but fortunately for both of them she’s not. Sincere regret is already cocooning her, compacting itself with each passing minute, a dense shroud of claustrophobic ickiness. Not always as fun as you’d plan for: guilt tripping someone who’s hopelessly devoted. Really, how hard is it to have a mature conversation about the way you feel neglected in this one marginal area of the relationship, even though you’re well taken care of in all the others. Very hard, it turns out. Very very hard.

And besides, this is how the Jonathan and Nancy network operates. She uses her upset to make weird power moves. He lies about his upset altogether. The system is what it is.

“If you care so much, figure it out yourself.” It’s a feeble whisper, accessorized with the twitch of her bottom lip and an arbitrary sniffle. She flips over to the eighth page of Middlemarch. Pulls her blanket back up over her waist. The leftover scent of her body wash is strong, so strong, even in her own nose. It’s like peach sorbet and paint thinner had a baby in their bedroom.

“Nancy…”

His voice has that deconstructed softness in it, gentle yet desperate, which is highly familiar. He uses it constantly. That’s the trick in his bag, but she’s not quite sure he knows it’s a trick. Because of it, the whole stay-mad-at-him project isn’t gonna be smooth sailing. She swallows hard, necklace pendant between her fingers.

“Hey, what happened?” He steps closer to the bed and uncrosses his arms. “This isn’t…it isn’t about Lauren, right?”

Oh, wow. Okay. Clueless.

“Because you really do ask her for a lot of favors, and I know she’s always happy to do them, but just…maybe don’t make her drive out there again. Not when I’m literally clocking out.”

“Oh…” She closes her book and fixes her eyes on the window. That one actually does make her want to cry.

“No, don’t,” he pleads, “don’t do the sad oh thing. You’re gonna make me sad. You’re gonna break me.”

The sigh that escapes her is fully authentic in its lethargy. Her fingertips play over the pillow under her head and its silky case. “Sorry, it’s just that now you think I take advantage of Lauren and you don’t like to see me at work, so.”

“No, I love to see you, I had no idea you would come after class just for that. It was really nice.”

“Yeah, so nice—”

“Until you ignored me in the car, yes!”

Hugging her own waist, she draws up her knees. God, that record…it should be physically impossible for ABBA to ever sound bad but this is pushing it. How truly depressing.

She imagines that the invisible thread connecting his heart to hers is starting to fray at this point; those grating sounds in his ears, the mix of chemicals on his skin, the intentionally seductive nature of her pity party, the annoying flicker of the lamp in the corner (only thing the previous tenants left behind when they moved, the sole forgotten object). All of it must be torturing him.

He picks up her book off the mattress, leaves it in the windowsill to—sunbathe? Who knows, honestly.

"Look,” he says, “I think we might need to take a second before we get into this. Do you want me to leave you alone for a minute? Would that help, or no?”

Apprehensively he reaches down, down to touch her shoulder, sort of…petting her, a few times. What you’d do if you found a wild jaguar in your backyard, but it was a really sweet looking jaguar.

When she doesn’t bite, he bravely makes eye contact with her. “You just have to tell me what you want, that’s all I need.��

(Such a good boyfriend when he’s trying. Holy shit.)

Fearful that the affection wave will show on her face, she flips over, switching sides. “Want you to lay down,” she mumbles.

Well that wasn’t part of the plan.

She listens for his reaction. A deep breath in, a deep breath out. “I’m filthy, you do realize that.”

“We’ve gone to bed wearing monster blood…”

He shrugs his jacket off.

(So, the summer had been a violent ride. Summer of ‘86, filed away in her brain with the rest of her nightmare inventory forever. All’s said and done now. Maybe they’re finally safe. God, please.)

It takes them a sec to get settled, but he hems her in, wraps her up, holds her close without any further begging. It’s crazy satisfying. Plaster-rough hand curls around her ribs under her shirt, and his nose brushes her neck. Antsy, she shuffles her feet together, scrunched socks keeping her warm.

“You genuinely—”

“Smell so good?” she predicts.

“Yeah.”

“New soap.”

“Ten out of ten.”

“Well, you know, it’s not formaldehyde, but what is?”

“Give me some slack,” he murmurs, “not my fault all my passions involve chemicals.”

Painting houses is his passion now? Alright, good to know. It’s that, developing photos, and being so much of a dummy he forgets to introduce his girlfriend to his boss when they first meet.

Again: exactly the kind of boy Emerson is looking for.

A minute later he’s kissing her neck.

Yeah, not sure how that happened.

After taking his first few tastes, he quickly stops himself. “Wait, can I do this?” he wonders aloud.

“I’ll let you decide. Do you think you should be doing that?”

“I don’t know. On the one hand,” he places a soft kiss at the base of her throat, “I still haven’t figured out what’s going on with you.”

Her eyelids flutter. “And on the other?”

Mouth barely open, he drags the tip of his tongue across her collarbone in one slow slide. “On the other I think—”

She fails to repress a squeaky whimper, which makes him falter.

“…that doing this could maybe, just maybe, help me get information out of you.”

She’s lost her breath so fast. “Decisions, decisions,” she manages to get out.

Second option wins him over. Next he’s tangling up his hand in her wet hair, kissing her neck like there really is peach sorbet to be found in her pores. He hums while getting acclimated to the malleability of her damp skin, impossibly supple malleability, and lingers with his mouth at her pulse point before giving in and sucking on it, not hard enough to make a bruise, but enough to make blood rush to her head.

She grabs the back of his neck in an attempt to stay anchored and from there he surrenders, from there he lets her force the path that his lips map out on her. Chapped but sticky with spit, they part and purse on her jaw, softly massaging the bone.

“Please can we get you a new album soon,” he whispers, “this is painful.”

“Hm?”

“The record’s a disaster, throw it away.”

“Don’t tell me to throw my things away,” she slurs weakly.

Her thigh catches his hip, and she bucks a little, rocks a little. Nothing crazy, just dirty. She can’t help herself.

“Tell me what upset my girlfriend and I won’t say anything ever again for the rest of my life.”

There it is. Jesus, it’s what she wanted. See, there’s no pronunciation issue after all. Girlfriend. His girlfriend.

She goes perfectly still. He may not realize she’s all shook up inside, but he notices the outward change, that’s for sure.

Time to get into it.

She takes a moment to prepare herself. “Are you ready to listen?”

“I’ve been ready, Nance.”

“Okay. It wasn’t about Lauren,” she spills, “Lauren and I are fine. We didn’t have a fight, we’ve never had a fight, and after she dropped me off today she told me she likes the drive to Middlesex because the roads are so smooth and driving calms her down and she gets sick of being in Boston, and I promise I’m not lying when I tell you this, but she offered to take me again tomorrow, I swear to you she did.”

“Okay, I believe you—”

“Though now I’m thinking I don’t even want to take her up on the offer, because me being there was clearly an unwanted change that didn’t exactly mean anything to anyone, and if you seriously don’t know what made me switch up today I need you to ask yourself how you think my conversation with your manager made me feel earlier.”

“You’re upset because of…something Mr. Lovell said?”

He’s so lost.

“No, because of what you said.”

“And what did I say?”

“It’s what you didn’t say. Jonathan, you didn’t tell him who I was. You didn’t introduce me at all.”

“I’m—sorry, you…you introduced yourself, why would I need to—”

“He doesn’t know you’re dating me.”

“But he does? It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? Without words?”

“No! Not without words. For all he knows I’m some random girl you met on the street, next thing you know he’ll be setting you up on dates with his niece and scheduling you to work Valentine’s Day. You’re supposed to be upfront about us and you never, ever are. Why aren’t you?”

His turn to pout now. He rests his head on her shoulder. “I don’t know? Sometimes it feels like…”

The gears in his brain go on and on, and his blush deepens. “Like fishing for attention.”

“Well that’s why I’m sad, you’re why I’m sad. You don’t want attention, so you don’t call me your girlfriend. Maybe once a month, if that. You don’t call me your girlfriend a lot and I love when you call me your girlfriend. There’s nothing unclear about a word like that."

“I…can do better, I didn’t know it was a big deal to you. That I say it more.”

“Duh, I don’t wanna feel invisible. I want you to talk about me.”

Her heart pounds with the energy of the moment, with surfacing reminders of how different they are. The silence expands around them, his breathing shallow. This is really the first time it’s dawning on him, the depth of her need for validation? Maybe she forgot that acknowledgment of their relationship outside their private bubble is not something he would go for without being asked. Maybe she forgot.

"So it’s not the word,” he says, “it’s telling people?”

“I like privacy, I do, but what’s between us needs to be something others can see. Something they don’t have to guess on.”

Yeah, keeping their peers guessing in high school was good. Low-key meant less harassment, fewer problems. Having said that, high school is gone forever.

He nods. “I get it. I'll get it, eventually. I’ll try.”

“Okay. Good. Thank you.”

Though the conflict isn’t totally resolved, it kind of feels resolved for tonight. At least that’s what her hormones want her to go with, shifting back and forth, this way and that, residing on the rockiest of tectonic plates that have been calibrated to him for longer than he knows. As strange as her first two months of college have been, as many messes as they’re making in their relationship, she has infinite confidence in the Jonathan and Nancy network. All things considered, this is the right time to be messy, they’ll have plenty of room to clean up the love when they’ve grown up. Fighting isn’t fun but…it feels amazing to know he’s in this with her, wading out to her in the swell of their mature immaturity, sticking up for young love even after their conflict resolution turns chaotic.

He loves her, and whenever she’s blue, he begs her to let him fix it. Neither of them rest easy until the blue gets painted over.

“Hey, girlfriend?”

She breathes out a laugh. “What?”

“Since we’re sharing…”

She tilts her head back, pushes her nose against his gently. “Careful, don’t say something you shouldn’t.”

“I really like it when you use your revenge soap against me. Very evil, but I like it.”

#*fic #jancy fic #stranger things #jonathan x nancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #prompt fill #*ask #fanfiction #manipulation pouting is not a victimless crime #but give nancy a pass please i wrote this in less than three days

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rubykgrant · 1 year

Text

After I have the RVB characters all go on some mini-vacations to take a break from each other, they eventually just get lonely and miss being in a group. Before they all come back together, they find each other a little bit at a time. This is how I have it go-

Wash has spent time tracking down the Triplets (as well as a few other loose-ends from his past, both helping his memory and his peace of mind), then one day he turns around, and Caboose is just THERE. Because of course he is~

Grif and Kai have gone back to Hawai’i for some sibling bonding time, but after watching him mope for a few weeks (due to nerd-withdrawl), Kai wants her bro to just CALL SOMEBODY. Grif is like... no... I don’t want to be all clingy... then who shows up but Simmons! Oh, and he totally doesn’t have a sunburn because he’s been here for a few days looking for the Grif sibs or anything, heavens no!

Doc is re-familiarizing himself with medical textbooks (hoping to become an actual doctor this time), he comes back to the little office he has on Chorus and... stuff is moved around? Not like somebody robbed the place, more like it has been tidied up? Lopez is there, refusing to give any explanation about WHY (and quickly makes himself at home trading insults with O’Malley; it’s different that when they were all together with the Omega-O’Malley, and yet pleasantly nostalgic)

Carolina doesn’t have to worry about somebody killing her anymore, so she’s getting in all deep with investigations regarding Project Freelancer crimes, while also trying to help people who were manipulated by Charon. It’s stressful and tedious... she misses the chaotic dorks. The MOST chaotic dork of all arrives, and Sarge declares he is there to recruit her for his new version of Red Team! Which involves fending off sneak-attacks and various Home Alone traps he’s set up! It’s actually kinda fun

Tucker has been looking for Junior, but is unable to locate his son... in fact, the only information he could find is that Junior is on an important mission, and nobody knows where he is. Just when Tucker is about to slip into despair, Donut pops up, and suddenly, Tucker remembers what feeling hopeful is like~

#red vs blue #rvb

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just-a-gamer-daydeamer-girl · 1 year

Text

A British Vampire in Italy

Joseph was impatiently tapping his finger on the finely crafted table in the restaurant. His armlets and anklets were bothering him as usual as well as the stupid red gem he had, he was not a jewelry person at all. It’s been a while since he saw his mom, he traveled all the way to Italy to see her but she was held up with some of her disciples or hamon users. He wondered if it had anything to do with those Pillar men he heard about, Uncle Speedwagon was still super shaken about that whole fiasco with Santana. That… thing made all sorts of confusing feelings run though his head when he first saw the weird horned creature…. But if anyone could defeat those things it was Uncle Zeppeli and his mom. But still that didn’t stop his worries. Heck, it feels like someone been watching him this whole time.

Hopefully he can have a good day with his mom even if it gets cut short er…. Shorter…. He really doesn’t want to be alone wandering in Italy… finally the waiter sets down one of his favorite dishes, nero di seppia. Finally something to take his mind off of his worries. He thanked the waiter and dug strait in, not worrying about table manners at all. But then his ears perked up when he heard someone making a comment on the way he was eating. He turned to face the couple that was eating near the wall. The female was dressed up nice for the evening but it was obvious she was a tourist, the man with distinct face marks was dressed like a little kid, seriously, backwards suspenders and a pre tied bow tie. He looked high class but it was obvious to Joseph that he probably didn’t know the first thing about high society. he must have been some kind of scammer praying on women who want some kind of epic Italy romance.

God he even gave her some kind of flashy gem and gave her a cheesy romance line that was so sugar coated it could give someone a cavity. All Joseph could do was gag, he really wanted to do something but he was told to keep a low profile…. So all really he could do was ignore them and continue eating, after awhile it seemed to work, it strangely got silent but Joseph didn’t really notice he was just enjoying his food.

He didn’t even notice that the man was now glaring at him.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Waiting outside on a sunny day is a pain, either Joseph was to way to hot due the scarf-hood plus hat, long sleeve shirt and gloves or to deal with a very nasty sunburn for weeks. Thankfully he managed to squeeze into a shaded alley near where he was supposed to meet mom…. Sure she missed out on their lunch but hopefully they can still go on a bit of a fun shopping spree. At least he could see old friends like, Clark, Peter, Bruce, Robin, Daian and Steve, they were all pigeons but at least they were company, it seems like their little group seems to be growing but Joseph didn’t mind.

Looking out every now and again to try and find those familiar scarf and sunglasses. Although there is that strange feeling of being watched, there was something strange going… then he saw him… the man from the restaurant, he was wearing different clothes and a hat as well but it was still him now making moves on another tourist. Was he following him? Great just what he needed to be stalked by a flamboyant playboy ital- that thought was interrupted as the two made eye contact. His eyes were just so sharp, he couldn’t help but flinch. Yup he is being hunted. The two of them just stared at each other for an uncomfortable long time, barely blinking, the blond hunter now unapologetically starring, knowing he’s been found out, one important question was echoing in Joseph’s head…. Is he a Hamon user?

He seemed to have some bad luck with the special solar power as of late, mostly with Straizo and the church of Dio. He did not want to get into a fight with another one so soon. Still keeping eye contact Joseph begin to walk away from the fountain square and the blonde with the sharp stare. Just get out of there quickly. He gets somewhat far before someone ends up punching him in the face. He ends up staggering backwards, and looks at his assaulter. It was the woman that the blond was talking to earlier, the look in her eyes were that of someone who was hypnotized under hamon’s spell, blondie must be apart of the church then, those damed cultists, thankfully he has delt with this kind of thing before. Using a bit of his strength he is able to restrain the woman and put one of his braces to her forehead, the special metal sucks up the hamon that was in the woman, causing her to go limp.

Then he got hit again, this time with a more familiar burning feeling he knew all to well. It wasn’t fatal thanks to his scarf, turned to see the blond didn’t move, how did they hit him form over there. Joseph didn’t have a lot of time to think as the son of a pasta started charging at him. Joseph could only brace himself as a huge bubble formed out from the hands of the blond. The weird bubble trapped Joseph inside, the surface burning any area touching it even though his clothes.

“Ha! You made a grave mistake ever setting foot on my home country, vampire!”

“Well you made a mistake of thinking I’m just some mindless bloodsucking monster, you cultist!”

He tapped his bracelet on the bubble draining the hamon form it causing it to pop, and in the next moment he ran up an socked that smug basterd in the face, he flew back a few feet away and into the fountain but quickly got back up. Both are now glaring at each other with fury. Joseph removed his of his braces, and bubbles started forming between the cultist’s hands. They then charged at each other.

Joseph threw one of his bracelets, and the cultist. It managed to absorb some of the hamon bubbles that were sent his way, but not all of them, but his scarf protected him from the rest. The ring ended up hitting the Italian man square in the face. Not wasting any time the Joestar rushed towards them do knock them out for good. However because he removed his wrist rings that part of him was more settable to hamon, and an opening, the blond caught his fist in time. Giving him a nasty shock. Thankfully the other ring he threw when the blond wasn’t looking ricocheted back and hit the bastard in the back of his head causing him to let go.

“You! Stop holding back, couldn’t even fight that woman!”

“Yeah well I bet you couldn’t beet a pigeon with your full strength!”

The two went at each other again, Joseph now not wanting to expose his arms to any more hamon, this was again blocked and turned against him when his opponent kicked his other leg that was still on the ground. This caused the Brit to fall prone to the ground. The vampire hunter shadow loomed over him his fist raised above his head, charged with hamon.

“You’re next line is ‘You will be burned to ashes and your vampiric filth will be cleansed from this world,’ right?”

“You will be burned to ashes and your vampiric filth will be cleansed from this world……….. what?”

That moment of hesitation from the confusion of the words being in sync with the vampire, lead to the Italian man’s secured victory, being lost as in that short while, as a swarm of pigeons came and overwhelmed him.

After a while of trying to get the birds off of him something fell to the ground and some of the birds fallowed it and though the feathers he saw it…. The breadcrumb bag that the vamp had earlier to feed the pigeons. The British Ruffin managed to put bread crumbs on him. He must’ve tied it to his bracelet earlier or managed to toss it on the Italian man.

He then got kicked in the shin and punched right in his eye. The pain was enough for him to allow the vampire to get away.

“Told you that you couldn’t beet a pigeon!” Joseph taunted as he ran away.

After regaining his composure the hamon user chased after the bastard of the night.

Joseph just kept running, the sun on his face started to sting but he had to get away, regroup and figure out a plan of attack. Thankfully he didn’t have to look far for safety as he saw a familiar pair of shades and diagonally checkered hat, it was his mom and uncle Zeppeli walking down the road! He almost embraced her in a hug but she violently flinched back, and Joseph was reminded about the no psychical contact with mom thing. Thankfully she managed to regain her composure before talking.

“Joseph? What going on? Where are your bracelets? Are you alright?”

“Sorta! I got attacked by one of Dio’s followers.”

“Jojo, are you sure? They shouldn’t have a fallowing or a base in Italy, it would be super difficult, especially with the fascist regime going on.” Uncle zeppeli said with a bit of venom.

“Yes he used that Hypnosis technique on a woman and made her attack me! Those jerks always use that technique to get what they want from others who refuse to help them or to hide behind the innocent!”

“So what does this cultist look like?” His mother asked.

“He is this blond Italian playboy around my hight, with feathers in his hair and pink marks under his eyes.”

“Do you think….?”

“It could be…”

The two adults looked at each other, obviously knowing something about the jerk who attacked him. But before he could ask about it a unfortunately familiar feeling burned into his back and he fell to the ground. Turning his head he saw the asshole they were talking about, he kept in the air and with a army of those hamon bubbles behind him, there was no way to hide from the magnified light from the bubbles, it was agonizing even the skin underneath his clothes hurt, he couldn’t even move. The Italian was about to finally land the finishing blow. His mom and uncle Zeppeli were only staring in shock and were unresponsive for some reason, it didn’t seem like they would snap out of it in time.

Thankfully he managed to find a shadow to give him brief relief from the light, the shadow from the blond Italian hamon user. This time Joseph didn’t bother punching him, he was using his claws! The jerk earned it! His claws ripped out from his gloves as they grew longer with anger he slashed leaving a very nasty claw wounds now sported the blonds face as he fell to the ground. With a nasty snarl the Brit let out, he was about to finally finish him off but before he could use his claws again a familiar grip was on his shoulder. Looking at his uncle Zeppeli who was giving him a soft look that told him without a doubt ‘the battle is over so don’t do it’. He let himself get pulled back behind his Uncle as his mom tied up his assaulter with her scarf. Both adults were now looking at the blond with a fearce glare.

“Caeser Anthonio Zeppeli….. what in the name of all pasta in Italy are you doing attacking JoJo like that?” The elder man asked.

“Wait…. You mean this womanizing, badly dressed, psycho is your grandson you always boasting about to nearly everyone who will lend you an ear?”

They didn’t respond. They just kept glaring at the young Italian man.

“What am I doing? What are you doing raising a vampire! The very creation of the pillar men! The ultimate menace of the night! That scoundrel even attacked a woman!”

“What? You made her attack me!”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Unless she was around another hamon user who kissed her, then yes you did. Besides she attacked me first, you should know that with how closely you were watching me!”

“Well maybe you somehow hypothesized her to attack you, to trunk me into me that you were actually harmless, just like what you did with Nonno and master Elisabeth.”

“That makes no fucking sense, and you know it!”

“Enough! Both of you!” All attention was now on his mother. Who was shaking slightly but only Joseph noticed that.

After a moment of silence the elder Zeppeli spoke up.

“Elisabeth, how about you go with Jojo to get some new clothes and groceries for dinner? I will deal with my grandson, we will investigate the donna and see what really happened.”

“Recover Jojo’s braces while you’re at it please……”

Not looking away from Caesar the entire time, Elisabeth untied the young man but never letting go of her scarf looking like she would attack again and standing protectively in front of her son, never letting up until the elder Zeppeli lead the younger out of sight.

After that she started shaking uncontrollably.

“Mom are you ok?” Joseph asked he almost put his hand on her shoulder but she violently flinched away, remembering her ‘no touching her own son’ rule and then the bad feelings returned.

After a minute, of awkwardly avoiding eye contact. His mother spoke.

“I’m sorry Joseph, I am so sorry. We kept you a secret from the other hamon users to make sure something like this wouldn’t happen but…….”

“Hey, no problem, I have a few more years before hamon becomes a problem for me!” He said in a joking tone now looking at her.

“Your father said the same thing…… it only takes one mistake, one encounter with hamon for you to meet your end just like he did….” She continued looking at the ground “I just hope everything we did will be enough for you to live a normal life when the time comes… you didn’t deserve all that…. Your father didn’t deserve it either…. Especially your grandfather…. You all deserved better, and I hope you get that one day.”

After one last moment of silence Joseph spoke up.

“So! Want to get stuff for pizza and look at the newest hats?”

She finally looked at him and after a minute she took off her glasses and put them in her purse, readjusted her scarf, straightened up and smiled.

“And find some prick who should lose quite a bit of blood.” She said, “Anyways the latest letter Ernia sent mentioned something about your new friend Smokey, the cult of Dio and a junkyard?”

The two of them walked into the shopping district as the sun went down, talking and just enjoying each other’s company.

XxxxxxxxxX

Esidisi just arrived in Venice yesterday, as the last sunbeams went down, still searching for that special red gem.

He should do some reconnaissance, and learn more about Air Supplena Island before making a move, all a while learning what has changed during his hibernation.

The shopping district seemed like a good place to start.

Thanks for reading ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

#Bloody Star AU #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #joseph joestar #jjba joseph #caesar zeppeli #fanfic #long post #battle tendency #lisa lisa #baron zeppeli

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themetaphorgirl · 2 years

Text

the patron saint kids go to a waterpark

hello yes my writing is extremely rusty but this was very fun and cute and self indulgent and I’ve missed writing these babies.

also send me prompts!! I have a whole archive of half finished prompt fills and I’m trying to work up the courage to write things again!

also James Howard Blake is the sweetest of himbos and I love him.

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James pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Okay, so somebody needs to carry the cooler-”

“I’ll get it.”

“-and there’s a box of cookies from my dad’s bakery-”

“Me!”

“Don’t touch those, Derek, you’ll eat all of them before any of us get a chance. Emily can carry them.”

“Do we trust Emily?”

“We shouldn’t trust me.”

“-and there’s a bag with all of the sunscreen and shit-”

Alex reached around him. “I’ve got it,” she said.

“I just need everybody to stay together,” Hotch said, scanning around their group to make sure no one had gone missing yet. “The last thing we need is for everybody to go missing.”

Derek shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But what if all the good spots are taken?” he asked. “I don’t want to sit in the sun all day.”

“We can go claim a spot with an umbrella,” JJ said.

Hotch rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, Derek and JJ can run ahead, everybody else stay together,” he said, and Derek and JJ took off running.

Dave hefted the cooler out of his trunk. “How did I get talked into this?” he complained.

“Because water parks are fun,” James said cheerfully as he helped Spencer clamber out of the backseat. “It’ll be a good time.”

“Water parks are not fun,” Dave said.

“You never have any fun,” Alex countered.

“These things are cesspools,” Dave said. He looked down at Spencer. “Back me up here, kid. Don’t you have some facts about how unsanitary these places are?”

Spencer opened his mouth. James covered it with his hand. “Just relax, Dave,” he said. “Besides, we all know that you’re just going to spend the whole time sleeping on a lounger.”

“I’m not going to sleep, I’m going to catch up on my reading,” Dave said.

Emily pulled her hair back into a sloppy ponytail. “I, for one, am staying in the water as long as humanly possible,” she said as she snapped a hair tie into place. “I miss not being able to go to a beach on the weekends when I feel like it, and I guess this is closest I can get.”

Alex took Spencer’s hand as they started the walk across the parking lot. “It’ll be fun, I promise,” she said. “We used to come here all the time when we were underclassmen.”

“And then we found more exciting places to hang out,” Dave mumbled under his breath.

They made it through the turnstiles and headed towards the sea of lounge chairs and umbrellas. Hotch squinted at his phone. “JJ says they’re on the right hand side close to the wave pool,” he said.

“Oh! There they are!” Penelope said, waving enthusiastically. “They did find a good spot.”

Derek and JJ had staked out a cluster of umbrellas and chairs in a shady spot near a few trees. “God, that took forever,” Derek said. “Are we good now?” He ripped his shirt over his head and kicked off his flipflops. “They have a bunch of body slides and Jayje and I want to go now.”

“Oh! Me too!” Emily said as she wrestled out of her coverup. “Don’t leave without me.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped. “Is that a Gucci bikini?” she demanded.

Emily frowned and twisted around, trying to look for a tag. “I guess, I don’t know,” she said. “My mom bought it for me. Is that a big deal?”

“Yeah, just a little bit,” Penelope said. “You’re wearing a Gucci bikini to a waterpark.”

JJ snapped the strap of her teal one piece. “My mom got this for me at Target,” she said cheerfully. “Can we go now?”

“Okay, wait, hold on, everyone needs to put on sunscreen,” Alex said. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a couple of bottles. “I’m not going to deal with the aftermath with everybody getting sunburned.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “Fine, I guess,” she said. She squished a dollop of sunscreen into her hands and slapped it on her shoulders.

Alex wiped sunscreen over Spencer’s nose and cheeks. “Did you know the ancient Greeks used to use olive oil as sunscreen?” he said. “Although that seems more likely to cook someone than to- ow! It’s in my eye!”

“Sorry, bug,” Alex said, wiping his eye with the pad of her thumb. “Stop squirming.” He scowled and continued to try to weasel his way out of her grip.

James pulled his shirt off and dropped it into Alex’s tote bag. “So what’s everybody doing?” he said. “You guys are going on the slides-”

Emily choked. “Jesus christ, Blake, you have a license to carry those guns?” she said. “Alex, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That your boyfriend is hiding muscles,” Emily said. “Holy shit, where did those come from?”

James glanced self-consciously at his freckled shoulders. “I’ve always had them?” he said. “I mean, I guess I carry a lot of heavy stuff at the bakery…”

“Yeah, that checks out, it’s very Peeta Mellark of you,” Penelope added.

“If I could wolf whistle, I would wolf whistle at you right now,” Emily said. “It’s a good thing for Alex that no one at St. Thaddeus knows what you’re hiding under your sweater vest, or you would have had girls literally throwing themselves at you. You’re a lucky girl.”

Alex’s face turned bright red. “So, uh, you guys are going on the slides, right?” she said hastily. Penelope, what about you?”

“I plan on spending the whole day in the wave pool,” she said as she slid on a pair of hot pink heart shaped sunglasses that matched her hot pink high waisted bikini and the scrunchies in her hair. “I like going out as far as possible so the waves can just wreck my shit.”

“Fun,” Dave said dryly. “I will be here. Not napping. Reading.” He brandished a pulp paperback. “I am going to read this book, and I’m going to even out my tan, and I’m not going anywhere near the water.”

James raked his hair out of his eyes. “Spencer, where do you want to go, kiddo?” he asked.

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never been swimming before,” he said. Alex had dressed him in a matched rash guard and shorts set, and he pulled at the neckline. “Do I have to wear this shirt? I don’t like it.”

“I don’t want you getting burned,” Alex said. “Not like last-” She stopped midsentence, cleared her throat, and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “Maybe you can take it off later, but not right now.”

“Let’s go to the shallow part of the wave pool,” James suggested. “Until you figure out what you want to do.”

Spencer looked up at Hotch. “Will you come with us?” he asked.

Hotch sighed. “Sure,” he said. “At least for a little while.”

“I’m going to the lazy river,” Alex said. “I also have a book, but unlike Dave I can multitask.” Dave, already lounging in a chaise under an umbrella with his sunglasses on, flipped her off lazily. “What time do we want to do lunch? Like one?”

“Yeah, that works,” James said. “We can meet back here around then. Does that work for everybody?”

“Sounds good, have fun, see you later!” Derek said as he, Emily, and JJ took off.

Spencer grabbed Hotch’s hand. “I probably should have mentioned this earlier,” he said. “But I don’t really swim.”

Hotch looked down at him. “You know what? Somehow I’m not surprised by that,” he said. “James and I will keep an eye on you.”

“It’s also why Alex made me get this,” Spencer said glumly, pulling on the hem of his bright orange swim shirt. “I wanted the purple one.”

“Orange is more visible in water,” she reminded him.

“I know, but I look like a traffic cone.”

“A very cute traffic cone,” she said. She bent to kiss his cheek. “Oh, I forgot I just put sunscreen on you. Ugh.”

James laughed and kissed the top of her head. “You go have fun with your book,” he said. “You ready, Spence?” Spencer flashed a thumbs up.

The waterpark was busy but not overcrowded; James made sure to keep Hotch, Spencer, and Penelope in his line of sight as they walked down to the wave pool. “Is this salt water or chlorine?” Spencer asked.

“Definitely chlorine,” Hotch said.

“Did you know chlorine can turn blonde hair green?” Spencer said. He side-eyed Penelope.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Penelope called over her shoulder as she forged ahead of them into the wave pool.

Hotch waded into the water, still holding Spencer’s hand. “How’re you feeling, Bug?” he asked.

“This is fine,” Spencer said, already up to his knees. He slipped his hand free of Hotch’s grip. “I think I like swimming.”

“That’s good, but don’t get ahead of yourself,” James said, his hand hovering over Spencer’s shoulder as they waded out farther. “Pace yourself.”

Spencer paddled clumsily, splashing water around them as his toes started to reach off the ground. “I think I’m okay,” he said. “It’s funny, it’s hot enough that temperature of the water could be elevated as high as-” He stopped midsentence and shrieked as a wall of water lapped high enough to knock him over. James braced himself against the wave and immediately pulled the skinny nine year old out of the water. Spencer gasped for breath, spluttering and choking. “What was that?”

“That’s the wave part of the wave pool,” James laughed. Spencer scrambled to climb him like a tree, still coughing. “What did you think would happen?”

“I thought the water would stay put!” Spencer protested, wrapping his arms around James’s neck in a death grip. “Waves only belong in an ocean!”

Hotch brushed his hair out of his eyes. He was still wearing his tee shirt, now soaked through, and it hung heavy on his lanky frame. “No, there’s definitely waves here,” he said. “Every couple of minutes.” He grinned. “I thought you were doing fine and you liked swimming.”

“I reserve the right to change my mind,” Spencer said. He relaxed his grip on James’s shoulders and James let him float a little in the water, his hands still hovering close to his sides. “This part isn’t too bad.”

“Well, we won’t go out too far if you don’t like it,” Hotch said.

“No, it’s okay,” Spencer said. “This is fine.”

James squinted out towards the far edge of the wave pool. “Wow, Penelope wasn’t kidding,” he said. He pointed to a tiny hot pink dot on the far horizon. “She really did get out there as far as she could.”

“She did say she wanted it to wreck her shit,” Hotch said. The wave machine rumbled ominously, eliciting squeals from the swimmers in the pool. “Okay, kid, there’s another one coming, are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Spencer said. His eyes widened as the wave began to form. “No, no, I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t think I like this.”

“Do you want to get out of the pool and do something else?” James asked.

“No, we can stay,” Spencer said. “We can- I would like to leave now, please!”

Hotch laughed as he picked Spencer up and started wading back towards the edge of the pool. “You know, it might be a good idea to start with something a little less intimidating before you learn how to swim,” he said.

The wave crashed over them, high enough to smack Spencer in the face and make him yelp but not enough to pull them down. Hotch set him down on the shore. “Do you want to go do something else?” he said. “There’s a section for smaller kids, we could go do that.”

“No, I don’t want to do that!” Spencer protested. “I’m not a baby!” He looked desperately back over his shoulder at the wave pool. “We can go back. It’s fine. I’ll be okay.”

Hotch gently untangled a wet matted curl in Spencer’s hair. “No, you hated that,” he said. “Do you want to go do slides or something?” Spencer shook his head stubbornly and started to walk away, then stopped. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

“The sand is too hot,” Spencer said plaintively, curling his ankles to stand on the outsides of his feet. “And it feels horrible.”

James could sense the impending sensory overload hovering over Spencer like a dark cloud. “How about we go hang out with Alex in the lazy river?” he said. “I can carry you if you want.”

Spencer nodded and James picked him up carefully. He was right, the sand was too hot and felt horrible. “We can go back later, I’ll be fine,” Spencer said.

“Yeah, we know,” Hotch said. “We’ll see how we feel later. It’ll be there all day.”

They walked to the nearest jumping-off point for the river; James set Spencer down at the edge with Hotch until he could fish out enough inner tubes for all three of them. Hotch hoisted Spencer into the kid-size floaty. “I think I like this better,” Spencer said.

“Yeah?” Hotch said. “Me too.”

James caught sight of a familiar light blue floral bikini and a red ponytail. “Alex!” he called. “Alexandra!” She was intent on her book and didn’t notice him until he caught her innertube and spun her around gently. “Hi!”

“Oh, shit!” she said, nearly dropping her book. James caught it before it hit the water. “Hi! How long were you at the wave pool? How long have I been reading?”

“Not that long,” James said. He held onto her innertube so he could lean in to kiss her. “The wave pool wasn’t exactly a big hit.”

Spencer floated closer to them. “I didn’t like it very much,” he informed her. He pulled on the hem of his rash guard. “I don’t like this very much either. Can I take it off please? The water isn’t very deep and my shorts are still bright orange, I’m still visible.”

Alex laughed. “Go ahead,” she said, and Spencer kicked around in the water as he wriggled out of the shirt and draped it over the side of his innertube. “We’ll just need to put more sunscreen on you.”

“Hotch, are you going to keep your shirt on the whole time?” James asked. “It’s getting pretty hot out.”

Hotch looked over at Alex. “If it’s not bothering him it’s fine,” she said. She set her book down on her thighs and signed something to Hotch; he signed back.

James spun Spencer around gently. “What are they saying?” he whispered.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“No, they were signing.”

“Oh, I missed it, I was turned around,” Spencer said. James sighed. Alex had taught both Spencer and Hotch what she had been learning in her ASL class, and he had tried his best to learn but he couldn’t keep up. He was best at math and science and he was hopelessly bad at languages.

The lazy river was definitely a better choice; the four of them floated around while Spencer talked happily and the rest of them listened in and added to the conversation when they could. James kept a hand on Alex’s innertube, keeping her from floating away from him while she read her book.

They were on their third or fourth loop when someone swam up behind Hotch and jumped onto the back of his innertube, making him yelp. “Jesus!” he spluttered.

Emily laughed as she hauled him upright again. “Sorry,” she said. “That was just too easy. Couldn’t resist.”

Hotch shot her a dirty look. “How were the slides?” James asked.

“Amazing,” JJ said, treading water behind Emily. “Even better once Derek started flirting with all the slide operators and they let us keep reriding.”

Derek grinned, kneeling on the edge of an innertube. “What can I say, the ladies love me,” he said. Emily gave him a light push and he flopped over into the water with an overdramatic splash.

“Is it time for lunch?” JJ asked. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, it’s probably close enough,” James said. “Somebody better go get Penelope.”

“I’ll go find her,” Derek said. “Are we meeting up with Dave?”

“Well, if we don’t wake him up for lunch, he’ll be pissed,” Alex said. “I know he swore he wasn’t going to take a nap, but trust me. He’ll be asleep, and he’ll be in a bad mood because he’s hungry and sunburned.”

Alex was right. When they made it back to their spot, Dave was fast asleep in his lounger with his true crime paperback dangling from his fingers. “Hey, Rossi, wake up, it’s lunchtime,” Emily said.

Dave bolted upright, tossing his book in the sand. “What the fuck are you doing, Prentiss?” he mumbled.

“I should ask you that, what the fuck are you wearing?” Emily said.

He ran his hand over his face. “Swimsuit?”

“That’s a fucking Speedo, Rossi,” Hotch said.

Dave squinted sleepily into the sand. “I got it in Italy, everybody in Italy wears them,” he said. “Where’s my book?”

“He always insists on that,” Alex said.

Emily picked up the book and tossed it at him. “What part of Italy do you visit, Rossi, nobody wears those,” she said. “Also you are red. Like fire engine red.”

“So’s your face,” Dave retorted.

“I don’t care, it’ll just turn into a tan.”

Alex sat down on a lounger and pulled Spencer onto her lap. “You’re not burned, but you’re very pink, Bug,” she said. “And your hair is going to be a nightmare to untangle.” She sighed. “We’ll worry about that later.”

Hotch opened up the cooler. “Okay, who wants what?” he said. “There’s three kinds of sandwiches and there’s celery sticks and carrot sticks and-”

“Where’s the cookies from the Blakery?” Emily asked. “I could shotgun like twelve of those right now.”

“There’s not enough for that,” James said hastily. “But I bet if we stop by the bakery on the way home my dad will give us a bunch of leftovers.”

Spencer brightened. “Do you think I could get a cupcake?” he asked. “Also, I saw there’s an ice cream stand. Could I get ice cream, please?”

“You need real food or you’ll bounce off the walls,” Hotch said. “Or throw up. Or both.”

“C’mon, we’re at a waterpark, everyone eats junk when they’re at a waterpark,” Emily said. “What do you want, nugget? You can have whatever you like.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up and James laughed. “I guess we’ll just have to deal with the repercussions later,” he said.

#au: patron saint of lost causes #caitlin writes things #patron saint: spencer #patron saint: hotch #patron saint: alex #patron saint: james #patron saint: jalex #james and alex are so so sweet and precious #hotch learned ASL because it's a good way to communicate with spencer when he goes nonverbal #aaron hotchner is a sad baby #spencer is the most precious child #spencer bounced off the walls until he puked because emily gave him way too much sugar #dave is a middle aged man at seventeen years old #spencer definitely cannot swim #james blake: a himbo

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halothenthehorns · 4 months

Text

Chapter 13: I TAKE A PERMANENT VACATION

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it! This is a depressing freaking chapter to infuse the holiday with, lol.

For everyone else, I hope you enjoy your day and your life and your year and the hour you spend reading my insanity!

PJOPJOPJOPJO

Nico read the new chapter title with a sense of ill. The idea of running across Percy's ghost had come to him plenty in the darkest parts of that maze, he'd been convinced for months at a time those would be his only friends. The one who had gotten Bianca killed had himself died in his own Greek tragedy of trying to come after him and becoming lost in a place Nico was slowly conquering, but Nico would find his wandering spirit and nurse him back enough to guide him to where he needed to go.

The idea that Percy might have died in this volcanic eruption and he didn't even get a hint of knowing that disturbed him slightly less than his old creepy thoughts about how his part in this would end, so he tried to read like it was any other.

"Oh hell," Magnus yelped. "Are we finally going to get an explanation for how you wound up down here? Are you permanently sleeping with the fishes? Did someone," he cut his finger across his throat with sound and everything.

"I don't think I'm actually dead," Percy studied his still trembling hands with uncertainty though, patting absently at his shirt and pants too to make sure it was real.

"And it wouldn't explain the rest of the books?" but Jason's sounded more like stacked questions, because really none of this made to much sense given they had no answers to start with outside of a gods will.

"As far as I'm aware, you are not actually dead," Thalia managed casually enough, but she dreaded this chapter more than anyone. Calypso was not a myth she'd ever dealt with personally, and she knew all she'd be hearing while Nico read was Annabeth's desperate voice through their connection begging her to help find an answer other than the obvious. She'd been prepared to go down to Tartarus and drag his soul back to get that look out of her little sister's eyes.

I woke up feeling like I was still on fire. My skin stung. My throat felt as dry as sand.

"The fact that you still have feeling is the impressive part after being a literal comet," Will told him with a kind of critical, stern tone like he thought Percy was still tempted to try again.

"The kind that only comes around in one lifetime," Percy assured.

"Hopefully they don't name anything after it, or worse, you get some kind of crazy superpowers from it," Alex offered.

"Or worse, aliens." Magnus agreed.

"Why would there be an alien free riding on my comet?" Percy asked.

"I don't know, just seems like every sci-fi movie comes with aliens masquerading as comets," he shrugged.

"My life is weird enough without adding bad costumes and CGI," Percy sighed.

I saw blue sky and trees above me. I heard a fountain gurgling, and smelled juniper and cedar and a bunch of other sweet-scented plants. I heard waves, too, gently lapping on a rocky shore. I wondered if I was dead, but I knew better. I'd been to the Land of the Dead, and there was no blue sky.

"The fact that that is a more normal sentence than you, a child of the sea, not waking up on the beach more regularly, really says something about your life," Magnus couldn't help but inform Percy.

"Who would want to wake up with a sunburn every day?" Percy shrugged. "Plus, that sand really does get everywhere. Nah, I'm good."

Apparently only normal people, Magnus sighed as he answered himself.

I tried to sit up. My muscles felt like they were melting.

"I hear to much exercise will do that to you," Will said wisely.

"And here I thought the more obvious punchline was global warming. We must save the planet, think of the Percy," Nico snickered.

"You're all missing the obvious joke that Percy is clearly an evil green witch in disguise," Thalia chuckled.

"I was just half cooked alive like a lobster, can't I get a pass on all this?" Percy smiled knowing the answer.

"No," they all laughed.

"Stay still," a girl's voice said. "You're too weak to rise."

She laid a cool cloth across my forehead. A bronze spoon hovered over me and liquid was dribbled into my mouth. The drink soothed my throat and left a warm chocolaty aftertaste. Nectar of the gods. Then the girl's face appeared above me.

She had almond eyes and caramel-color hair braided over one shoulder.

She was...fifteen? Sixteen? It was hard to tell. She had one of those faces that just seemed timeless. She began singing, and my pain dissolved. She was working magic. I could feel her music sinking into my skin, healing and repairing my brain.

"Who?" I croaked.

"Shhh, brave one," she said. "Rest and heal. No harm will come to you here. I am Calypso."

"It's nice she came out front with her name," Magnus said. "But huh?"

"If they start by introducing themselves, they're probably going to be very powerful and more fun to defeat," Alex rubbed his hands together in excitement.

"I already feared for my life enough without that, but thanks," Percy sighed.

The next time I woke I was in a cave, but as far as caves go, I'd been in a lot worse.

"I mean, compared to the cyclops cave where Grover was being held hostage, a bear cave sounds like a vacation too," Jason nodded.

"Does the underworld count as a giant cave?" Magnus asked.

"Um, yes?" Nico admitted.

"We did not go into a cave on your last adventure, but you've been mostly underground in this one to make up for it, so I'd say you are a credible enough person to judge this," Thalia nodded sanctimoniously.

Yet in all this talk, Percy's empty hand tingled as if Annabeth had brushed against him, wanting to lock her fingers through his. She had a habit of holding his hand in places like this, but she sure wouldn't be this time, some part of him knew.

The ceiling glittered with different-color crystal formations— white and purple and green, like I was inside one of those cut geodes you see in souvenir shops. I was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and cotton sheets. The cave was divided into sections by white silk curtains.

Against one wall stood a large loom and a harp. Against the other wall were shelves neatly stacked with jars of fruit preserves. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling: rosemary, thyme, and a bunch of other stuff. My mother could've named them all.

"You haven't said anything about Sally being into gardening," Nico said in surprise, though he well remembered that flower box he'd once appeared next to.

"She knows them from cooking, not much of a hobby she can keep up with in the middle of the city to grow her own," Percy said with a wistful kind of smile. He wanted that for his mom. He bet Poseidon would have granted her a whole biome of nature if she asked. Just tap on the bathroom door three times or something, and poof, a hidden world she'd love to be part of.

There was a fireplace built into the cave wall, and a pot bubbling over the flames. It smelled great, like beef stew.

I sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my head. I looked at my arms, sure that they would be hideously scarred, but they seemed fine. A little pinker than usual, but not bad. I was wearing a white cotton T-shirt and cotton drawstring pants that weren't mine. My feet were bare. In a moment of panic, I wondered what happened to Riptide, but I felt my pocket and there was my pen, right where it always reappeared.

"I'm starting to wonder if there's even a limit on what that pen won't come back from," Jason looked more than impressed while he had that critical look on his face again. "If you threw it into outer space would it still come back?"

"I don't currently have any friends with a rocket ship to test that theory, but I'll let you know," Percy shrugged, holding his pen tight to him now just in case Jason wanted to try for himself.

Not only that but the Stygian ice dog whistle was back in my pocket, too. Somehow it had followed me. And that didn't exactly reassure me.

"Yeah, me either," Alex heaved a great sigh of remorse, and he really wanted Quintus and his dog to be a good guy. "Maybe he's trying to be like Chiron, he came across as a creepy stalker at first too."

"Hopefully," Percy wouldn't turn down another cool mentor who gave him good advice and cool gifts, but he was still too suspicious to really hope it would work out.

With difficulty, I stood. The stone floor was freezing under my feet. I turned and found myself staring into a polished bronze mirror.

"Holy Poseidon," I muttered. I looked as if I'd lost twenty pounds I couldn't afford to lose. My hair was a rat's nest. It was singed at the edges like Hephaestus's beard. If I saw that face on somebody walking down a highway intersection asking for money, I would've locked the car doors.

"Percy, you don't have a car," Nico told him.

"My mom's car doors just doesn't give the same ring to it," Percy rolled his eyes, fighting the urge, and losing it to sag in his seat with remembered exhaustion. Thalia was looking like an awfully comfortable prop right now.

Magnus kept his lips tight shut about that. He never spent much time looking in a mirror for a few years now, but he was pretty sure he'd looked that bad before Hearth and Blitz found him.

I turned away from the mirror. The cave entrance was to my left. I headed toward the daylight.

The cave opened onto a green meadow. On the left was a grove of cedar trees and on the right a huge flower garden. Four fountains gurgled in the meadow, each shooting water from the pipes of stone satyrs. Straight ahead, the grass sloped down to a rocky beach. The waves of a lake lapped against the stones. I could tell it was a lake because...well, I just could. Fresh water. Not salt. The sun sparkled on the water, and the sky was pure blue. It seemed like a paradise, which immediately made me nervous. You deal with mythological stuff for a few years, you learn that paradises are usually places where you get killed.

"Are you telling me I'm most likely to die at a Pottery Barn?" Alex demanded.

"Paradise probably isn't even subjective enough to argue," Thalia agreed with a sigh. "We half-bloods can die somewhere like a dog park or a freaking mall."

"The only paradise we have is places where monsters aren't, and then we inevitably attract them to that place," Jason frowned. "What kind of paradox is that called?"

"Shit, does that make this place a utopia?" Magnus groaned.

"Well this is just getting more depressing the longer it drags on," Nico reminded, and he wasn't even the one causing it. He kept reading loudly and decided he'd blame the book, and Percy's life, rather than himself on the continued trend.

The girl with the braided caramel hair, the one who'd called herself Calypso, was standing at the beach, talking to someone. I couldn't see him very well in the shimmer from the sunlight off the water, but they appeared to be arguing.

"I really don't think it's just a joke when I say Percy attracts fights everywhere he goes, even to a tropical paradise," Will shook his head in exhaustion.

"Task failed successfully," Percy hoped. "They can keep that up while I escape I'm sure." He hadn't felt trapped though, he vividly remembered that. His feelings of this island were more dreamlike than any memory yet given back. Like that old apartment he used to live in with his mom, maybe the few short years before Gabe had come along. A home he could never go back to, but some part of him would always want to.

I tried to remember what I knew about Calypso from the old myths. I'd heard the name before, but...I couldn't remember. Was she a monster? Did she trap heroes and kill them? But if she was evil, why was I still alive?

"All excellent questions," Jason sighed.

"Percy will get answers to all of them as he's running for his life I'm sure," Alex offered, which made nobody feel better.

I walked toward her slowly because my legs were still stiff. When the grass changed to gravel, I looked down to keep my balance, and when I looked up again, the girl was alone. She wore a white sleeveless Greek dress with a low circular neckline trimmed in gold. She brushed at her eyes like she'd been crying.

"Well," she said, trying for a smile, "the sleeper finally wakes."

"If he's Sleeping Beauty, does that make Annabeth Prince Charming?" Magnus snorted.

"Percy sleeps enough to fulfill the role," Thalia chuckled with amusement, "and Annabeth would rock a horse and sword if she needed to."

"I would rather get to the monster killing me part than indulge this further," Percy groaned, or he was going to be suffering kiss of life jokes and endless Halloween costume ideas for days.

"Who were you talking to?" My voice sounded like a frog that had spent time in a microwave.

"What a noble frog, putting up with that to be such a comparison to you," there was nothing but dread in Nico's voice though as he tried not to wonder how Percy knew that.

"Science lab got weird during the dissection class, you don't want to know," Percy shivered.

"Oh...just a messenger," she said.

Will snorted softly, though he felt bad he was the only one who got the joke. Nobody else read that deep into it.

"How do you feel?"

"How long have I been out?"

"Time," Calypso mused. "Time is always difficult here. I honestly don't know, Percy."

"You know my name?"

"Not a shock anymore," Magnus grudgingly admitted. He wished it still were, but the days of Medusa creeping him out for a multitude of reasons were in the past, and that one had never even been able to rank to high considering everything else.

"You talk in your sleep."

I blushed. "Yeah. I've been...uh, told that before."

"How nobody's ever tried to smother you for that I will never know," Thalia said with her own mystified face. The few times she'd slept around Percy, they'd been out in the open taking turns keeping watch for each other, so she'd never had to actually try and fall asleep to his nonsense.

"Yes. Who is Annabeth?"

"Oh, uh.

Percy's brain fried and short circuited in his head like another volcano had gone off. He would be more surprised if steam wasn't coming out of his ears. It would take him less time to say who Annabeth wasn't...

A friend.

He exhaled in relief at how well that summed it up, glad he'd been to tired back then to even try and articulate anything else as his lips still felt more prominent on his face than they ever had before.

We were together when—wait, how did I get here? Where am I?"

Calypso reached up and ran her fingers through my mangled hair. I stepped back nervously.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I've just grown used to caring for you.

The others were oddly quiet, clearly trying to judge for themselves how much they believed her sincerity. She'd had ample opportunity to hurt Percy true, but for all they knew she was just lulling him there and keeping him from getting back to full strength until Luke showed up. She could be slowly sucking the life out of him. There was just no telling what motive could be going on or who she was arguing with until it was to late.

As to how you got here, you fell from the sky. You landed in the water, just there." She pointed across the beach. "I do not know how you survived. The water seemed to cushion your fall. As to where you are, you are in Ogygia."

She pronounced it like oh-jee-jee-ah.

"Was the second jee really necessary?" Magnus huffed. "It feels like they're just being extra."

"No noun should be more than two syllables, it's just exhausting," Percy agreed.

"Your name is three," Thalia looked at him strangely.

"And I stand by what I said," Percy nodded.

"Is that near Mount St. Helens?" I asked, because my geography is pretty terrible.

"Sure Percy, it might be if you travel back in time or something," Will chuckled.

"Maybe I'll find them constructing the Statue of Liberty next door," Percy smirked.

Calypso laughed. It was a small restrained laugh, like she found me really funny but didn't want to embarrass me. She was cute when she laughed.

Percy felt a dull sense of dread thud in his chest, but again, it wasn't vicious. He didn't feel like ripping his heart out in fear it was attacking him. Just an aching feeling, a muscle he'd long since stopped using.

He watched as six pairs of eyebrows shut up around him now with a vague amusement as well. Magnus and Alex seemed immediately suspicious and weary what kind of spell he was being put under, whether he realized it or not. Jason and Thalia looked amused, like they were thinking how best to tell Annabeth about this for maximum teasing.

Will and Nico exchanged weary looks though. Not the, 'Oh Gods, Percy's about to die kind,' but the sort where they weren't sure if they wanted to know the outcome of this. Percy didn't talk about his time out there, and while it was interesting to get some first hand lore on this place, it was coming at a pretty personal cost to Percy.

Nico read swiftly, he didn't want to linger on this.

"It isn't near anything, brave one," she said. "Ogygia is my phantom island. It exists by itself, anywhere and nowhere.

"I wonder if there are other islands out there that can do a bit of both." Alex grinned. "You really didn't explore the Sea of Monsters enough to be sure there's not an island out there that's sometimes there and sometimes not."

"If I find a haunted ghost island that only appears during high tide, I'll call you," Percy promised. Mostly so he could blame Alex for its existence.

You can heal here in safety. Never fear."

"It's not himself he's afraid for," Jason muttered.

Percy heard, and grinned at him. It was a good feeling for at least a moment, to know your friends knew you so well.

"But my friends—"

"Annabeth," she said. "And Grover and Tyson?"

"Yes!" I said. "I have to get back to them. They're in danger."

She touched my face, and I didn't back away this time. "Rest first. You are no good to your friends until you heal."

As soon as she said it, I realized how tired I was.

Magnus still shivered with distaste as he waited for the shoe to drop. That this vacation was just another Hotel, and Percy was soon going to start forgetting everything that mattered to himself except this girl who he had no choice but to fall in love with because she told him that's what he needed to do, or maybe he'd start seeing puncture marks on his neck and this was another kind of vampire, like a subspecies of Kelli.

"You're not...you're not an evil sorceress, are you?"

She smiled coyly. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I met Circe once, and she had a pretty nice island, too. Except she liked to turn men into guinea pigs."

"A sad fact that is such a major exception," Alex sighed.

"There's no such thing as the perfect utopia," Thalia agreed.

Calypso gave me that laugh again. "I promise I will not turn you into a guinea pig."

"Or anything else?"

"I am no evil sorceress," Calypso said. "And I am not your enemy, brave one. Now rest. Your eyes are already closing."

She was right. My knees buckled, and I would've landed face-first in the gravel if Calypso hadn't caught me. Her hair smelled like cinnamon. She was very strong, or maybe I was just really weak and thin. She walked me back to a cushioned bench by the fountain and helped me lie down.

"Rest," she ordered. And I fell asleep to the sound of the fountains and the smell of cinnamon and juniper.

Percy shivered. The kind of ghost breathing on his neck feeling. Because there was no sense of danger in him. And it was creeping him out.

Where was the adrenaline? Where was the fear and worry? Where was that sense that had guided him through all his past memories of what to trust and to know when he should be about to run?

He kept wanting to watch Thalia for some kind of hint he was missing something, but she seemed as somber over there as he felt. Like a long lost friend had died.

The next time I woke it was night, but I wasn't sure if it was the same night or many nights later. I was in the bed in the cave, but I rose and wrapped a robe around myself and padded outside. The stars were brilliant—thousands of them, like you only see way out in the country. I could make out all the constellations Annabeth had taught me: Capricorn, Pegasus, Sagittarius. And there, near the southern horizon, was a new constellation: the Huntress, a tribute to a friend of ours who had died last winter.

Nico did not like himself for the distaste he had of those words... Why didn't Bianca get a whole constellation? It was Zoe's choice to go on this quest and be slated for death the moment she heard that prophecy, and his sister went in almost blind...

But Thalia was making some stupid joke at Percy about never seeming to find his own constellation and his sister probably would have been over there laughing with them without batting an eye at that passage. She probably would have smiled for her lieutenant.

"Percy, what do you see?"

I brought my eyes back to earth. However amazing the stars were, Calypso was twice as brilliant.

Percy had always wished Annabeth here from the moment he'd opened his eyes. He still did now, to know she was safe and away from volcanoes he'd exploded. He wanted to hear her explain to him already who Calypso was fully.

Most of all, he wanted to watch how she'd be reacting to this. If she was rolling her eyes at him, or jealous, or hurt, or uncaring at all.

He found himself watching Thalia, his best friend in here to figure out the same, but she seemed to be avoiding his eyes as she played with her bracelet. He didn't know what thoughts were plaguing her, and a part of him wondered if it had something to do with why Annabeth wasn't here and what she might know about that.

Or was it something simpler and she already knew the choice he felt stretching ahead of him?

I mean, I've seen the goddess of love herself, Aphrodite, and I would never say this out loud or she'd blast me to ashes, but for my money, Calypso was a lot more beautiful,

Nico winced and looked very much like someone was about to blast him to ashes just for saying that sentence. It would be just his luck to get obliterated into nothing because he'd said what Percy once thought and got away with.

There was a dramatic pause as everybody waited for it to happen, and when nothing did, Nico kept reading with an odd smile on his face like he got away with something.

because she just seemed so natural, like she wasn't trying to be beautiful and didn't even care about that. She just was.

Annabeth's like that too, Percy realized in surprise. Unlike Kelli, who was a terrifying kind of beautiful in her natural way of looking like Aphrodite actually did have a kid with Hephaestus, Annabeth always brushed her hair up into a careless ponytail and had dirt on her at any given time and didn't realize her own allure. The one time he'd seen her in a dress it had shocked him stupid. He was rather glad looking back he'd been a guina pig for that, it made it seem lesser, more like a dream than real memory of how alien perfect she'd been.

With her braided hair and white dress, she seemed to glow in the moonlight. She was holding a tiny plant in her hands. Its flowers were silver and delicate.

"I was just looking at..." I found myself staring at her face. "Uh...I forgot."

Nico heard some of them laughing around him, but it still sounded nervous, they were still waiting for her to sprout into a monster or reveal the 'gotcha' or something. Even knowing that wasn't the case, Nico and Will exchanged a tired look. The usual flippant, enjoyable energy just wasn't getting up in this chapter as they felt how confining this moment in Percy's life was. It didn't feel right to mock him when Percy looked isolated with his confusion over there.

She laughed gently. "Well, as long as you're up, you can help me plant these."

She handed me a plant, which had a clump of dirt and roots at the base.

The flowers glowed as I held them. Calypso picked up her gardening spade and directed me to the edge of the garden, where she began to dig.

"That's moonlace," Calypso explained. "It can only be planted at night."

I watched the silvery light flicker around the petals. "What does it do?"

"Do?" Calypso mused. "It doesn't really do anything, I suppose. It lives, it gives light, it provides beauty. Does it have to do anything else?"

"I suppose not," I said.

"Sounds to me like it's doing plenty," Alex agreed. Not every plant had to poison or cure something, nourish or indue. Things just existed without a purpose, which was their purpose.

She took the plant, and our hands met. Her fingers were warm. She planted the moonlace and stepped back, surveying her work. "I love my garden."

"This is a very odd evil plan," Magnus found himself scratching his head the longer this dragged on. "Is she trying to turn you vegan? Is her ultimate goal to use you as fertilizer?"

"Grover might not bother to rescue me if so," but Percy's smile was lackluster at best. He was growing less convinced by the word this was some trap at all, but this was a Greek legend, he knew that much. He was still waiting for the bad part to show up.

"It's awesome," I agreed. I mean, I wasn't exactly a gardening type, but Calypso had arbors covered with six different colors of roses, lattices filled with honeysuckle, rows of grapevines bursting with red and purple grapes that would've made Dionysus sit up and beg.

"Ah, I see," Jason theatrically clapped his forehead. "They caught the wrong demigod. This is supposed to be a trap for a child of Ceres."

"You've been eating there, haven't you?" Magnus confirmed. "Is this like an underworld situation? You're imprisoned forever because you ate from this awesome place?"

Percy pressed his lips together as that sense of longing only grew. He couldn't find in himself to play along. Imprisoned. Maybe it wasn't him who was on the permanent vacation really.

"Back home," I said, "my mom always wanted a garden."

"Why did she not plant one?"

"Well, we live in Manhattan. In an apartment."

"Manhattan? Apartment?"

"Oh, well, maybe she's not evil after all," Will chuckled. "It's common knowledge all people who are associated with big cities are evil. Clearly, having never even heard of the concept, she's immune to this. Purely innocent and good in her hide-a-way pasture."

"Aren't most horror movies out in the boons where nobody can hear them scream?" Nico asked. Quite a few kids asked if he was born out there enough to make him look up what they were getting at.

Will opened, and closed his mouth with a laugh instead of answering.

I stared at her. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"I fear not. I haven't left Ogygia in...a long time."

"Well, Manhattan's a big city, with not much gardening space."

Calypso frowned. "That is sad. Hermes visits from time to time. He tells me the world outside has changed greatly. I did not realize it had changed so much you cannot have gardens."

"Why haven't you left your island?"

She looked down. "It is my punishment."

"You know Percy, I'm starting to suspect your luck is bad enough to get roped into somebody else's bad luck," Jason admitted. Nothing bad had happened yet, and judging by his silence over there and nobody nearly dying, he was beginning to suspect this wasn't going to be that kind of chapter.

"As long as she doesn't take her punishment out on me," Percy's heart was doing an odd beat in his chest. A thudding, painful number that hurt to concentrate on. Calypso, her name kept swimming around his mind like a piranha that was well fed but shouldn't be ignored. There was just something about her that had nothing and everything to do with Annabeth he was missing.

"Why? What did you do?"

"A classic Percy," Thalia sighed. "A classic boy. Blunt as an arrow to the face."

"I've never used a boxing glove arrow," Percy grinned.

"I? Nothing. But I'm afraid my father did a great deal. His name is Atlas."

"How many kids did this guy have?" Magnus asked in surprise.

"That's like asking how many kids Zeus had. You're just happier not trying to count them all," Thalia sighed.

The name sent a shiver down my back. I'd met the Titan Atlas last winter, and it had not been a happy time. He'd tried to kill pretty much everyone I care about.

"I mean, that's most evil people you meet," Nico said fairly. "I don't know what happy times involves trying to kill people."

"Maybe if Calypso had been there instead of Zoe things would have gone better," Alex snorted. "Girl should have opted a jailbreak for her half sister before the quest."

"I don't think there was really time for that," Thalia reminded with a strained smile. She didn't think it inherently insensitive to laugh about Zoe's past decisions, gods knew she'd done enough of that herself, but it wasn't a topic she wanted to continue to discuss either.

"Still," I said hesitantly, "it's not fair to punish you for what your father's done. I knew another daughter of Atlas. Her name was Zoë. She was one of the bravest people I've ever met."

Calypso studied me for a long time. Her eyes were sad.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Are—are you healed yet, my brave one? Do you think you'll be ready to leave soon?"

"What? I asked. "I don't know." I moved my legs. They were still stiff. I was already getting dizzy from standing up so long.

The fact that he could stand up for any length of time and wasn't sprinting and threatening to get out of there still gnawed at something in Percy. Something about this place, this girl. He wanted to help her, to stay, and it was nothing evil or magical making him. Just Calypso was enough.

"You want me to go?"

"I..." Her voice broke. "I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well."

She ran off toward the beach. I was too confused to do anything but watch until she disappeared in the dark.

"No, that's a classic Percy," Jason couldn't comprehend how Percy hadn't interrogated this girl to know everything about what was going on by now. He was the dopiest, deadliest guy Jason had ever met, and he was quite positive of this fact not even remembering anyone outside this room.

I don't know exactly how much time passed. Like Calypso said, it was hard to keep track on the island. I knew I should be leaving. At the very least, my friends would be worried. At worst, they could be in serious danger. I didn't even know if Annabeth had made it out of the volcano. I tried to use my empathy link with Grover several times, but I couldn't make contact. I hated not knowing if they were all right.

On the other hand, I really was weak. I couldn't stay on my feet more than a few hours. Whatever I'd done in Mount St. Helens had drained me like nothing else I'd ever expected.

Nico could hardly believe the words out of his own mouth. If he hadn't already been struck repeatedly in here that Percy wasn't the guy he'd dreamed he was, this more than anything put the final nail in the coffin. Percy had the motivation to go home, he'd always done everything up to this point by his driving factor being to help others.

He just, was choosing not to this time. It wasn't even a big heroic sacrifice, he had no idea of Calypso's curse yet. He was just, hesitating, and Nico found himself fascinated what had made Percy leave. Had he been unable to put down the mantel of the hero? Had it been Annabeth?

I didn't feel like a prisoner or anything. I remembered the Lotus Hotel and Casino in Vegas, where I'd been lured into this amazing game world until I almost forgot everything I cared about. But the island of Ogygia wasn't like that at all. I thought about Annabeth, Grover, and Tyson constantly. I remembered exactly why I needed to leave. I just...couldn't.

And then there was Calypso herself.

She never talked much about herself, but that just made me want to know more. I would sit in the meadow, sipping nectar, and I would try to concentrate on the flowers or the clouds or the reflections on the lake, but I was really staring at Calypso as she worked, the way she brushed her hair over her shoulder, and the little strand that fell in her face whenever she knelt to dig in the garden. Sometimes she would hold out her hand and birds would fly out of the woods to settle on her arm—lorikeets, parrots, doves.

"You fell into a fairy tell land my friend," Magnus told him. "I bet she turns into an ogre, or a dragon or something once you decided to stay."

Magnus wasn't really kidding, but Percy laughed like he was anyways. That didn't feel like the right answer either. Nothing had felt like the right thing to do since he'd blown up that volcano.

She would tell them good morning, ask how it was going back at the nest, and they would chirp for a while, then fly off cheerfully. Calypso's eyes gleamed. She would look at me and we'd share a smile, but almost immediately she'd get that sad expression again and turn away. I didn't understand what was bothering her.

"She's using reverse psychology on you and makes you think she wants you to leave while really wanting you to stay," Alex joined in.

Percy blinked at him. Something in there finally did feel like an answer, but twisted. She was no manipulator, he knew that, felt that in his memory like his instinctive trust of Thalia.

One night we were eating dinner together at the beach. Invisible servants had set up a table with beef stew and apple cider,

"Is that all she had to eat there? Is that the secret torture?" Will frowned. "Also, where does the cow part come from?"

"She's making those special veggies that taste like beef," Nico snickered.

"Maybe Hermes delivers her yearly rations she can't grow, like toilet paper," Thalia smirked.

which may not sound all that exciting, but that's because you haven't tasted it. I hadn't even noticed the invisible servants when I first got to the island, but after a while I became aware of the beds making themselves, meals cooking on their own, clothes being washed and folded by unseen hands.

Magnus threw his hands up in exasperation. "This is officially the best vacation ever. Can I blow up a volcano too Percy?"

"Not without following the proper steps by sitting through a sex ed class, being chased by Telkehines, and nearly dying." Percy shrugged.

"Geez, I might still consider it," Magnus huffed at this luxury.

Anyway, Calypso and I were sitting at dinner, and she looked beautiful in the candlelight.

"If you mention how pretty this girl is one more time, I might have to revoke your crush on Annabeth," Jason snorted.

Percy brushed at his gray bangs, his stomach in knots. He wished he had some snippy rebuttal for that, but he was disturbingly silent.

"People can have a crush on more than one person Jason, broaden your mind," Alex finally chuckled into the awkward silence.

Thalia was studying her best friend with those electric blue eyes. She'd been really relieved to see him at the beginning, like he'd been missing for a long time. Is this where he'd been? Was she angry with him having taken to long to come back?

I was telling her about New York and Camp Half-Blood, and then I started telling her about the time Grover had eaten an apple while we were playing Hacky Sack with it. She laughed, showing off her amazing smile, and our eyes met. Then she dropped her gaze.

She was scared, Percy tried to put into words that expression, but that didn't quite fit right. She wasn't telling him something about this place, and if he could not resist one kind of torture, it was temptation.

"There it is again," I said.

"What?"

"You keep pulling away, like you're trying not to enjoy yourself."

"You probably scared her with that story Percy," Magnus rolled his eyes. "I might still have nightmares about Grover using a mega-goat bite on me if was drinking apple cider."

"I don't think she could have nightmares on that island," Percy frowned. He certainly hadn't been having any. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was oddly similar to their current prison. Invisible servants, all the food one could eat, the company was mostly tolerable when they weren't annoying. He still missed Annabeth, his mom, Grover and everyone like a physical ache, but there was nothing stopping him from refusing to relearn his memories, hide in a room and stay here forever. The idea was just loathsome if he thought about it for more than a second.

It hadn't been there though. There had been something about Calypso, the constant rest he got. The problem with staying on vacation for to long was that it made going back seem harder than it had before.

She kept her eyes on her glass of cider. "As I told you, Percy, I have been punished. Cursed, you might say."

"How? Tell me. I want to help."

"Don't say that. Please don't say that."

"Tell me what the punishment is."

He wanted to help her, Percy finally realized the obvious. Once he found out how to help break her curse, he could leave with a clear conscience. Of course, it seemed obvious now. This place probably played exactly into one's fatal flaw. He might have just met her, but he could have been life long friends with someone like Calypso.

She covered her half-finished stew with a napkin, and immediately an invisible servant whisked the bowl away. "Percy, this island, Ogygia, is my home, my birthplace. But it is also my prison. I am under...house arrest, I guess you would call it. I will never visit this Manhattan of yours. Or anywhere else. I am alone here."

"Doesn't sound like much of a punishment," Alex muttered. He preferred being alone, all people did was disappoint and judge you.

"Maybe for one lifetime, but all of them?" Magnus frowned. He never would have made it on the streets without Hearth and Blitz. He missed the boy he used to play with who always stopped running too fast when he had to grab his inhaler. He missed being in the back of a class reading and ignoring the teacher until he had his book taken away and then begrudgingly laughing and playing a game of tic tac toe with a random kid in detention. Maybe he'd learn why they were there, maybe they'd just sit in silence together. The idea of never being allowed around another soul again sounded like a curse to him.

Alex heard all of that in his short question, and sighed as he practiced signing the alphabet to himself in random order.

"Because your father was Atlas."

She nodded. "The gods do not trust their enemies. And rightly so. I should not complain. Some of the prisons are not nearly as nice as mine."

"I guess she heard what her dad's going through," Jason said in agreement.

"It's, nice, the gods took it easy on a random kid," Will tried to say in his usual upbeat way, but he wasn't so sure how confident he was of that. He didn't actually know what crime Calypso had committed other than support and what that entailed, yet he'd heard plenty of the gods unjust punishments for lesser things.

"But that's not fair," I said. "Just because you're related doesn't mean you support him. This other daughter I knew, Zoë, Nightshade—she fought against him. She wasn't imprisoned."

"But, Percy," Calypso said gently, "I did support him in the first war. He is my father."

"Ah," Magnus said in understanding as the final piece of it all fit into place.

"One man's vacation is another man's punishment huh?" Alex said with distaste, though for Calypso or the gods nobody was sure.

"What? But the Titans are evil!"

"Are they? All of them? All the time?"

"I've yet met a good one," Magnus said in disgust.

They weren't inherently evil, Nico knew though as he toyed with the edge of the page. Iapetus the Impaler had been cleansed of his family ties and come out as Bob, an innocent who willingly helped. Luke was a child of the 'good guys' and yet he was leading the rebellion. What made good and evil was not an answer he was privy to no matter how many ghosts he talked to about it.

She pursed her lips. "Tell me, Percy. I have no wish to argue with you, but do you support the gods because they are good, or because they are your family?"

I didn't answer. She had a point. Last winter, after Annabeth and I had saved Olympus, the gods had had a debate about whether or not they should kill me. That hadn't been exactly good. But still, I felt like I supported them because Poseidon was my dad.

"And we're back to that whole corruption of infinite cosmic power business," Alex scowled.

"It's more like a few really rotten apples and some bad tempers that need work?" Will offered with a hopeful smile. He could easily understand Percy questioning such a thing, it would have made less sense if he never had. Things had been getting better since Percy demanded of the gods his reward to prevent this all happening again though, some of them had even come around a bit for a brief time before Dionysus mysteriously stopped being there.

"Perhaps I was wrong in the war," Calypso said. "And in fairness, the gods have treated me well. They visit me from time to time. They bring me word of the outside world. But they can leave. And I cannot."

"You don't have any friends?" I asked. "I mean...wouldn't anyone else live here with you? It's a nice place."

"I bet those Hesperides would, sit around and shit talk about half-bloods all day. She might like to hang out with her half sisters," Thalia sounded reluctantly sorry for her. A maiden trapped alone in this eternal place struck a particular cord in her, one strong enough for her to ask if her punishment might ever be lifted. If she asked Artemis to let her join the hunt, would that be an insult to the gods original punishment? Thalia might even consider hiding Jason away on this island once they got out of here while she figured out what had happened to him if this underwater place didn't work out long term.

A tear trickled down her cheek. "I...I promised myself I wouldn't speak of this. But—"

She was interrupted by a rumbling sound somewhere out on the lake.

Percy groaned, a painful sounding noise deep in his chest that usually meant they should all duck and hold their breath for something disastrous about to happen.

It wasn't like that this time. Percy was angry with himself, and this situation, and no one set thing. The ocean sloshed all around them like somebody shaking a jar as he shifted around to try and get comfortable in his seat with no clear ending in sight.

A glow appeared on the horizon. It got brighter and brighter, until I could see a column of fire moving across the surface of the water, coming toward us.

"Because at this point why wouldn't aliens show up," Magnus frowned.

"Why is that your first thought?" Jason looked at him like anything left could be a strange sentence in here. "It's more likely Mercury is popping in again. Maybe he decided to use a pillar of flames this time."

"Haven't you heard stories about aliens appearing as columns of light?" Magnus asked in amusement. "I know this guy on Beacon Street who swears up and down he saw them while flying in WWII, described them just like this. I bet he'll think I'm just as crazy if I tell him it was just a god passing by."

"We're all a little crazy in some ways," Alex cheerfully reminded.

I stood and reached for my sword. "What is that?"

Calypso sighed. "A visitor."

"She doesn't seem that thrilled about it?" Alex frowned, which was weird right? Shouldn't she be jumping for joy when anyone shows up if she's so lonely? She had been cut off though, about to offer Percy something, and it wasn't particularly hard to imagine what.

As the column of fire reached the beach. Calypso stood and bowed to it formally. The flames dissipated, and standing before us was a tall man in gray overalls and a metal leg brace, his beard and hair smoldering with fire.

"Lord Hephaestus," Calypso said. "This is a rare honor."

Will scratched absently at his chin as he said, "yeah, I imagine so. Like I'm trying to think of a scenario where she's ever even met him." If he so rarely visited anyone, why would he go to this random girl. Did he study her plants to make machines out of them?

"Maybe a child of Hephaestus has landed there before," Nico shrugged. She probably hadn't met every god, he doubted they were all kind and sporadic enough to visit on their own and she probably only knew of them through the random demi god kids who passed through.

Thalia kept the thought to herself she was a prisoner because of the war she'd been in to the two. It was plenty likely Calypso knew of every Olympian because she'd had her turn to try and kill them all, possibly by learning of their favorite foods and practicing poisions even. Who knew what she'd been up to back then before coming there.

The fire god grunted. "Calypso. Beautiful as always.

"If I hear how beautiful this girl is described one more time, I'm shaving her head," Alex rolled his eyes. "Aphrodite wasn't praised this much. Annabeth isn't praised this much!"

Nico lost his composure and burst out laughing hard while Percy sighed at the pair of them. They didn't get it, they hadn't seen her in person.

Would you excuse us, please, my dear? I need to have a word with our young Percy Jackson."

Percy felt immediately humbled and worried. Was this about Annabeth?!

Hephaestus sat down clumsily at the dinner table and ordered a Pepsi.

"I wonder if he ever goes to a restaurant, and they tell him they only have coke, and he just like, changes reality to make it so they only have Pepsi now," Magnus frowned.

"I thought it would be simpler, like he just breaks their machine so no soda is carbonated," Will admitted.

"You're both evil for taking it out on the soda," Percy told.

The invisible servant brought him one, opened it too suddenly, and sprayed soda all over the gods work clothes. Hephaestus roared and spat a few curses and swatted the can away.

"Stupid servants," he muttered. "Good automatons are what she needs. They never act up!"

"I do not believe him in any way, shape, or form," Thalia scoffed.

"I think he needs a tune-up in his mind," Percy agreed.

"Hephaestus," I said, "what's going on? Is Annabeth—"

"She's fine," he said. "Resourceful girl, that one. Found her way back, told me the whole story. She's worried sick, you know."

Percy made such a sigh of relief that he cleaved out a gap of air in front of him that made a terrifying noise as the water snapped back into place.

Nico kept reading over him like he heard his life about to end every other day while the others rubbed their ears.

"You haven't told her I'm okay?"

"That's not for me to say," Hephaestus said.

Magnus shivered deep in his seat. He longed to be there for her, how alone she must feel right now. Was she back in the maze by herself? Marching into Daedalus' shop ready for murder because she thought she'd lost her best friend? He had nothing to offer her but his companionship and still couldn't even give that as he sat uselessly in place.

"Everyone thinks you're dead. I had to be sure you were coming back before I started telling everyone where you were."

"Everyone, everyone?" Jason asked critically. "Like Neptune? Who exactly was asking Vulcan where you were?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if some of the gods kept an eye on his quest and knew Hephaestus was the last god he'd seen," Thalia reminded with a scowl. Like Hera, she'd probably been keeping tabs on him enough to know he'd gone missing.

"What do you mean?" I said. "Of course I'm coming back!"

Hephaestus studied me skeptically. He fished something out of his pocket—a metal disk the size of an iPod. He clicked a button and it expanded into a miniature bronze TV. On the screen was news footage of Mount St. Helens, a huge plume of fire and ash trailing into the sky.

"Still uncertain about further eruptions," the newscaster was saying. "Authorities have ordered the evacuation of almost half a million people as a precaution. Meanwhile, ash has fallen as far away as Lake Tahoe and Vancouver, and the entire Mount St. Helens area is closed to traffic within a hundred-mile radius. While no deaths have been reported, minor injuries and illnesses include—"

Hephaestus switched it off. "You caused quite an explosion."

Percy's hand leapt to his mouth like he was going to try and hold in another scream. He just looked so ashamed Thalia instinctively leaned over and hugged him. He cautiously returned it, but his hand stayed in place, the guilt in his eyes more plain than the dark water around them.

It wasn't okay, Thalia knew as she leaned back, and she didn't say as much. Percy looked as torn apart as if he wanted to evacuate his own body, that volcano might as well have erupted inside of him and then proceeded out to the lava.

I stared at the blank bronze screen. Half a million people evacuated? Injuries. Illness. What had I done?

"I-" but Percy couldn't say how sorry he was. He couldn't see the others around him, if they looked at him with fear now. All he could feel was that dormant power in him, the one he touched every other page in here it seemed. Even now he couldn't get a handle on his emotions, his capabilities. Perhaps this place wasn't a punishment at all, but a place to learn why he should be kept away from others.

He'd always been a really bad student though.

Thalia slugged him on the shoulder and said, "and this is why boys should be kept at the bottom of the ocean! I bet if you'd gone to visit the Cyclops forges too you'd have a handle on this, it's all your dad's fault really." Like she wasn't massively speaking from experience her dad had never given her any help on her chaotic powers either.

Will and Nico were muttering away about something as usual, the book held casually in Nico's hand, the kid who had once made the dead vanish without thought and nearly taken the camp with him. Alex was lounging in his seat waiting for things to keep going while Magnus and Jason just looked reserved for the worst.

They'd all been dealing with him nearly killing them since they got in here. This vast showing of his powers didn't surprise a one, it was just a part of who he was. It wasn't a great part of him, but Percy sighed and knew what Annabeth would tell him to do once she was done strangling him for making her think he was dead. All he could do was build a better foundation next time. He had to work on getting control.

"The telekhines were scattered," the god told me. "Some vaporized. Some got away, no doubt. I don't think they'll be using my forge any time soon.

"Oh look, he got what he wanted out of it," Alex scoffed.

"Not exactly a win, win, scenario," Percy muttered. Why couldn't the gods have shown up to stop the volcano from erupting and saved all those people?

For the same reason they hadn't voted to kill him he supposed. They had their own plans, own agenda, other things better to do with their infinite time than worry about him right this moment. A part of Percy still hoped he'd asked his dad to make a few anonymous donations to help... somehow. He didn't even know, he just knew his next prayer to his dad as he scrapped food off his plate would be for this.

On the other hand, neither will I. The explosion caused Typhon to stir in his sleep. We'll have to wait and see—"

"I couldn't release him, could I? I mean, I'm not that powerful!"

The god grunted. "Not that powerful, eh? Could have fooled me. You're the son of the Earthshaker, lad. You don't know your own strength."

Percy felt a horrible pressure deep in his chest at a god telling him that. He'd taken on Ares and come out the other side without a scratch.

His friends didn't see him as a god though. Thalia was nothing but sympathetic beside him. "I've hardly touched my powers since I caused this massive storm once, nearly tore a whole city apart the news later blamed on a hurricane." She admitted. "I don't often need them more than just the minimum with the Hunters. You're still coming into it Percy."

Chiron had warned him of this, way back when, but he still felt like he didn't fully grasp all he was.

That's the last thing I wanted him to say. I hadn't been in control of myself in that mountain. I'd released so much energy I'd almost vaporized myself, drained all the life out of me. Now I found out I'd nearly destroyed the Northwest U.S. and almost woken the most horrible monster ever imprisoned by the gods. Maybe I was too dangerous. Maybe it was safer for my friends to think I was dead.

Thalia fought off the urge to smack him with the greatest of restraint. "That's not for you to decide who we hang out with Percy!"

"You've said yourself what a bad influence I am," Percy said with a reluctant tease.

"You're a pain in the ass who I would never trade away for some boring kid who couldn't blow up a volcano," she huffed.

Percy was rubbing at his arm like she had tried to pummel him, and Magnus couldn't stand watching him beat himself up. Percy had been a good friend to Annabeth, and to him this whole time. It wasn't his thing to say really, but he didn't really think Hearth would begrudge him offering to Percy, "hey, listen, Hearth's told me about how strange it is to hate a part of your own body. Just because it's something you can't control in yourself doesn't make it a bad thing, just something to live around."

"Hearth's not going to blow up half a continent because he doesn't know what he's doing," Percy said sullenly, his eyes on the floor. He assumed anyways. What did he know about elves?

"I might," Nico wasn't to happy about reminding. "Thalia might. Would you want us to stay on an island?" He was very confident of the answer he got, enough he didn't feel any major emotion at still knowing who Percy was. Percy didn't want him, his answer would be the same no matter who's name he'd given.

"No," was of course his automatic response.

"Then you're not that special," Thalia happily concluded.

"How do you think I feel?" Jason agreed. "I couldn't begin to guess what I'm capable of until it erupts out of me too, gods knows what form it'll take since I can't begin to guess at my parentage."

Thalia kept her face very straight to hide her continued guilt over leaving him in the dark on that. He'd know soon enough when she figured out for herself all the answers she could give him. She was not like her father, keeping him at arms length until she was ready...

"You can blame your dad if you need someone to be accountable for this," Alex said in that calm, confident way as he absently played with a strand of green hair. The pale amber eye glittered with a secret, while the dark brown one seemed heavy and tired. "Don't let that excuse you from practicing what you have to all its might though."

Percy rubbed his fingers together, still unsure how much he could let himself agree with that. What would happen one day if he went all out, who would get caught in the crossfire next...

"What about Grover and Tyson?" I asked.

Hephaestus shook his head. "No word, I'm afraid. I suppose the labyrinth has them."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

Hephaestus winced. "Don't ever ask an old cripple for advice, lad. But I'll tell you this.

"Don't ask me for advice but here's some," Alex rolled his eyes.

"No wonder his machines always go haywire, I bet their coding is just as sporadic," Magnus agreed.

"You guys have got to stop saying that kind of stuff," Will said with a nervous laugh. "Just because a god hasn't popped in here yet to kill us doesn't mean they won't."

"Pssh, we've got Percy," Alex brushed off.

Percy blushed. He wasn't sure if Alex meant he was a bigger threat, or he would get between whatever god got annoyed with their commentary. He considered both true.

You've met my wife?"

"Aphrodite."

"That's her. She's a tricky one, lad. Be careful of love. It'll twist your brain around and leave you thinking up is down and right is wrong."

"Never have I said truer words," Nico muttered for himself. It perfectly explained why he always felt...everything he'd ever felt.

I thought about my meeting with Aphrodite, in the back of a white Cadillac in the desert last winter. She'd told me that she had taken a special interest in me, and she'd be making things hard for me in the romance department, just because she liked me.

"And I still haven't forgiven her for that," Percy scowled, now fully suspecting his time with Calypso was a part of this.

"Um, be grateful she doesn't seem to be sending random guys to Annabeth's house?" Magnus offered, but he knew how unhelpful that sounded.

Percy didn't seem to think much of it either, his mind swiveling to Luke and always worried what he was up to.

"Is this part of her plan?" I asked. "Did she land me here?"

"Possibly. Hard to say with her.

Percy made an exhausted noise. He had a headache again and he wasn't even trying to pressure himself to remember what his decision had been. He just knew what it was going to be now. If Aphrodite had put him here, he had to leave. There had never been a choice, just more manipulation by the gods he was helping to win this war. Like a dog doing its job for the reward every night of a good bed and food.

His family was more than that to him though, he instantly regretted his thought as he played with his clay beads. He was picking the winning side not because any god had told him to. His choice was clear. If Kronos won, his family wouldn't.

But if you decide to leave this place—and I don't say what's right or wrong—then I promised you an answer to your quest. I promised you the way to Daedalus. Well now, here's the thing. It has nothing to do with Ariadne's string. Not really. Sure, the string worked. That's what the Titan's army will be after. But the best way through the maze...Theseus had the princess's help. And the princess was a regular mortal. Not a drop of god blood in her. But she was clever, and she could see, lad. She could see very clearly. So what I'm saying—I think you know how to navigate the maze."

"You're going to bring your mom in there?" Magnus asked like he was nuts.

Alex smacked him on the back of the head, and he yelped in surprise before he realized, "oh shit, Rachel."

"There you go," Alex nodded.

"Wow, I've never seen someone literally smack sense into someone," Thalia snickered. "If only it worked on you," it was no guess who she redirected that at.

"Try it Tinkerbell, I will eat your storms for breakfast," Percy smirked. Thalia laughed, mostly out of relief he was trying to pull himself out of his funk.

It finally sank in. Why hadn't I seen it before? Hera had been right. The answer was there all the time.

"Who would have thought of that?" Jason demanded. "Nobody would have thought, hey the girl that can see through mist should go down into the crazy dangerous dungeon and see if she can see...oh. No wait. Yeah it sounds kind of obvious when you put it like that."

"Everything is clearer with hindsight," Will snorted. "I should start carrying a flashlight on me, just in case I ever need to shine it on something already fully lit."

"A UV light," Nico added. "That way we can put secret stamps only we'll know to find."

"Brilliant!" Will cheered.

Nico smiled and shook his head in exasperation he seemed fully jazzed about this joke...but the temptation was there to really do it. Go back into that maze and put up some secret clue or path to let a half-blood know others had been here, and they'd gotten out. So no kid would be trapped in there alone again.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I know."

"Then you'll need to decide whether or not you're leaving."

"I..." I wanted to say yes. Of course I would. But the words stuck in my throat. I found myself looking out at the lake, and suddenly the idea of leaving seemed very hard.

Percy didn't often feel the need to kick everybody out of the room so that he could have some personal privacy, but this. This was definitely one of those moments.

Thankfully, it went without commentary. Not even judgy silence. Percy finally guessed what that reserved look on Thalia's face was. The same one she often had when she stared at her tree to long. Nobody could force him to go back, he had to want to. He could have stayed there and maybe Annabeth would have joined the Hunters after all or anything else that could have happened. He didn't though, he knew that about himself. Nobody had made Thalia take a stand on that hill, but her spirit had lingered in that tree instead of vanishing long ago, enough of her had wanted to come back the fleece could work its magic on her.

"Don't decide yet," Hephaestus advised. "Wait until daybreak. Daybreak is a good time for decisions."

"Will Daedalus even help us?" I asked. "I mean, if he gives Luke a way to navigate the Labyrinth, we're dead. I saw dreams about...Daedalus killed his nephew. He turned bitter and angry and—"

"It isn't easy being a brilliant inventor," Hephaestus rumbled. "Always alone. Always misunderstood. Easy to turn bitter, make horrible mistakes. People are more difficult to work with than machines. And when you break a person, he can't be fixed."

Percy thought of Luke. His broken body at the bottom of that mountain, his crooked smile slashing that sword at him. He knew Hephaestus didn't mean physically fixed.

Though a cyborg would be a lot cooler to fight.

Hephaestus brushed the last drops of Pepsi off his work clothes. "Daedalus started well enough. He helped the Princess Ariadne and Theseus because he felt sorry for them. He tried to do a good deed. And everything in his life went bad because of it. Was that fair?" The god shrugged. "I don't know if Daedalus will help you, lad, but don't judge someone until you've stood at his forge and worked with his hammer, eh?"

"He gives pretty good advice for a god who doesn't want to," Jason chuckled.

"I'll—I'll try."

Percy wanted to laugh that off, pretend he'd never have a clue where Daedalus was coming from...but his dad's words from that party he hadn't died at came to mind. How Luke had once been Hermes's pride and joy and look how far he'd fallen.

Percy had spent a lot of time in here wondering at how useful the gods were, how he'd be better off without their constant interference, this of all treacheries putting such a choice in front of him just to see how he'd react.

He didn't have to try anymore to get where a good deed could make you feel punished for the rest of your life. He'd tried to stop an army of monsters from recreating Kronos's full blade and blown up a volcano with his hammer. Daedalus was not perfect, he'd done many a horrible things, but if he was stuck in some punishment now Percy would have to help get him out of, he would without hesitation. Not because they needed him for this quest, but because the gods shouldn't get to decide anybody's eternal fate.

Hephaestus stood. "Good-bye, lad. You did well, destroying the telekhines. I'll always remember you for that."

It sounded very final, that good-bye. Then he erupted into a column of flame, and the fire moved over the water, heading back to the world outside.

"I just like to imagine all of Hephaestus's goodbyes are like that," Will said as cheerfully as ever. "The gods never fully expect to see us again. They blink and it's been a hundred years and oops, that guy died of old age I think."

Percy often thought this guy was a goofball. Nobody could be that naturally happy all the time, he had to be faking it at least every other smile. Not this time though. Will had been in this world longer, he'd had siblings to stay up late laughing about this with.

I walked along the beach for several hours. When I finally came back to the meadow, it was very late, maybe four or five in the morning, but Calypso was still in her garden, tending the flowers by starlight. Her moonlace glowed silver, and the other plants responded to the magic, glowing red and yellow and blue.

"He has ordered you to return," Calypso guessed.

"She'd like that, wouldn't she," Alex sounded blunt, but not cold. "The perfect way to make you stay."

Percy laughed, even though they both knew it was no joke.

"Well, not ordered. He gave me a choice."

Her eyes met mine. "I promised I would not offer."

"Offer what?"

"For you to stay."

"Stay," I said. "Like...forever?"

"You would be immortal on this island," she said quietly. "You would never age or die. You could leave the fight to others, Percy Jackson. You could escape your prophecy."

I stared at her, stunned. "Just like that?"

She nodded. "Just like that."

"But...my friends."

Nico was still adjusting to the feeling of admiration he had for Percy from when Percy had discovered he was a child of Hades and declaring himself the prophecy child. Percy took on the role of leader and responsibility so easily and naturally in a way he shared with Thalia Nico felt nausea over just the idea of.

But it wasn't the power that propped him into the position. It was the people around him he willingly led. Percy hadn't wanted to go back to camp to be the hero, he'd gone back because of them.

No matter how messy his shadow traveling ever got or what near-death experience he might find himself in, Nico was confident he'd never wind up on this island. Calypso would never fall in love with someone like him, but even still he stared absently down at the book for a few lingering moments. It was probably silly to think if he'd even be invited to stay, what reason he'd have to go back.

He wouldn't have had one before he got thrown into this room.

Calypso rose and took my hand. Her touch sent a warm current through my body. "You asked about my curse, Percy. I did not want to tell you. The truth is the gods send me companionship from time to time. Every thousand years or so, they allow a hero to wash up on my shores, someone who needs my help. I tend to him and befriend him, but it is never random. The Fates make sure that the sort of hero they send..."

Her voice trembled, and she had to stop.

I squeezed her hand tighter. "What? What have I done to make you sad?"

"They send a person who can never stay," she whispered. "Who can never accept my offer of companionship for more than a little while. They send me a hero I can't help...just the sort of person I can't help falling in love with."

"Huh," Alex couldn't help but sound admirable. "Somebody got really creative with that curse."

"Can we not compliment someone who tormented someone else for more eons than you can name," Jason sighed for this poor girl.

"I can admire the structure of a building without wishing it would fall on someone," Alex assured.

"Besides, this is Percy here." Magnus grinned. "You can't convince me he's not going to find some way to sneak this girl out. I bet he comes back through the labyrinth connecting to this place and gives her that freedom."

"Does she deserve it though," Alex raised a challenging brow. "She's not a victimless kid here. Who knows what she did to earn a life sentence. The gods are more than capable of just putting her right back and then deciding to destroy the labyrinth to suit their needs if he does."

Magnus looked intently at Alex as he considered debating that. Atlas felt like he deserved that life sentence because of what he'd done to Annabeth and Zoe, but the cruelty of his punishment came with no end in sight. It didn't feel right for these all-powerful beings to smite out immortal punishments that lasted longer than a lifetime.

Nico kept reading, and Magnus didn't get into it right now because he was still an atheist at heart, and had a great distaste of any 'justice system'. These gods were mighty but flawed beings to him, but it was an endless debate that had no resolution they should have to have someone to be accountable to.

The night was quiet except for the gurgle of the fountains and waves lapping on the shore. It took me a long time to realize what she was saying.

"Me?" I asked.

"If you could see your face." She suppressed a smile, though her eyes were still teary. "Of course, you."

The brief laugh that echoed around the room fell on deaf ears to Percy. He felt like he was still processing her warm brown eyes and the smile on her face for the first time. She was the kind of girl he bet his mom would have wanted him to settle down with, a nice normal girl who would garden with him all day and never flee a school on fire with him. The kind of girl who wouldn't have to hide her knife from Paul Blofis and have to explain why she might be on the run from some monsters.

His mom loved Annabeth, Sally Jackson had always nurtured his creative side and had never ordered him around, but this was the girl his mom would have wanted him to pick, he was sure of it.

And he wouldn't have agreed with her.

"That's why you've been pulling away all this time?"

"I tried very hard. But I can't help it. The Fates are cruel. They sent you to me, my brave one, knowing that you would break my heart."

"But...I'm just...I mean, I'm just me."

"And what's so wrong with that Percy?" Thalia chuckled with a glint in her eyes that spelled trouble. "It seems more than enough to get you by."

Panic shot through him as he thought Thalia was talking about herself for a moment, before her eyes darted to Nico and he laughed supremely awkwardly. He had no idea if Annabeth still loved him outside of a single memory he had of her that seemed to get more wildly out of context the more this went on. Nico had apparently fallen in love with him at some point too?! He even felt like he was still missing the obvious in someone. Now Calypso...Holy Poseidon, Thalia wasn't wrong, and he felt a tiny kernel of panic if Aphrodite really had placed some kind of curse on him.

"That is enough," Calypso promised. "I told myself I would not even speak of this. I would let you go without even offering. But I can't. I suppose the Fates knew that, too. You could stay with me, Percy. I'm afraid that is the only way you could help me."

I stared at the horizon. The first red streaks of dawn were lightening the sky. I could stay here forever, disappear from the earth. I could live with Calypso, with invisible servants tending to my every need. We could grow flowers in the garden and talk to songbirds and walk on the beach under perfect blue skies. No war. No prophecy. No more taking sides.

The truth was Percy could see how easy it would be to fall for someone like Calypso. Annabeth didn't need him, she was a better hero than him in nearly every way. She would probably figure out a way to convince Luke he was being stupid and stop being evil and this prophecy nonsense would be put off for another thousand years or so.

Calypso thought he was funny. She'd been alone for a really long time and needed help. He bet she'd help him build an awesome skate park and he could sit around all day doing things he'd always wanted to, like learn to play guitar and get an unbeatable high score. It wasn't so much that he wouldn't do it.

"I can't," I told her.

He couldn't spend his time waking up every day in a garden, blissfully happy. He couldn't sit around learning to weave and cook beef stew. He could not step away from his prophecy, his friends who needed him, no matter how much Calypso did too.

She looked down sadly.

"I would never do anything to hurt you," I said, "but my friends need me. I know how to help them now. I have to get back."

She picked a flower from her garden—a sprig of silver moonlace. Its glow faded as the sunrise came up. Daybreak is a good time for decisions, Hephaestus had said. Calypso tucked the flower into my T-shirt pocket.

Nico studied the book in surprise. He'd always greatly wondered why Percy had been rooting around and dumping his canteen in that flower box when he'd shown up. It had felt like a warding off gesture to him, considering how much Nico detested plants and Percy must have somehow known this. Instead, he now understood, it was just a very, very sad reminder at the hint of white that had sprouted up.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the forehead, like a blessing.

"Then come to the beach, my hero. And we will send you on your way."

It would have been easier if she'd argued with him. If she'd begged him to stay and cursed him and the gods out for doing this to her again and thrown a fit, ripping up her precious plants.

She was so kind. She'd accepted her life was just going to be like this, and endless cycle of heartache. She accepted her inevitable defeat.

It was that part of her that he knew he would never be happy with.

The raft was a ten-foot square of logs lashed together with a pole for a mast and a simple white linen sail. It didn't look like it would be very seaworthy, or lakeworthy.

"This will take you wherever you desire," Calypso promised. "It is quite safe."

I took her hand, but she let it slip out of mine.

"Maybe I can visit you," I said.

She shook her head. "No man ever finds Ogygia twice, Percy. When you leave, I will never see you again."

Some god owed him for this. Losing his memory, being trapped in this room. Reliving each and every moment of his past as raw and painful as ever.

He didn't know how, he didn't when, but he knew he would not let this be the case. It was a gut feeling. He would see her again.

"But—"

"Go, please." Her voice broke. "The Fates are cruel, Percy. Just remember me." Then a little trace of her smile returned. "Plant a garden in Manhattan for me, will you?"

"I promise." I stepped onto the raft. Immediately it began to sail from the shore.

Alex had never been to Manhattan, but he was pretty confident they had a plant conservatory garden, and he pretended he couldn't hear Percy's ragged breath for a moment as he instead vividly imagined security chasing Percy with pitchforks and trowels for trying to plant something.

As I sailed onto the lake I realized the Fates really were cruel. They sent Calypso someone she couldn't help but love. But it worked both ways. For the rest of my life I would always be thinking about her. She would always be my biggest what if.

"One even the Fates might not know," Thalia murmured gently. Not even the Titan's had been able to outsmart them. Percy had been the child of the Prophecy. Somehow, some way, he was always going to fulfill that role.

Did that mean there were paths even they couldn't see? A tapestry even they couldn't make? A world beyond the oldest beings?

Within minutes the island of Ogygia was lost in the mist. I was sailing alone over the water toward the sunrise.

Then I told the raft what to do. I said the only place I could think of, because I needed comfort and friends.

"Camp Half-Blood," I said. "Sail me home."

Alex couldn't help but break the tension like a firecracker. "What if you asked to go back to your mom's apartment? Would you appear in the bathtub?"

Percy laughed at this guys never ending sporadicness. It was genuine, but still a little sad as he watched Nico pass the book to Will.

He had somehow been taken out of time over four times in his life already. His life, his choices kept speeding past and around him, colliding with everyone around him whether he wanted them to or not. He could never have stayed on Ogygia anymore than he would willingly stay in this room...but somehow a part of him felt so disconnected from his own future as he floated out on that raft he couldn't begin to guess what came next.

PJOPJOPJO

This was a very big revelation chapter for little kid me. One of the very first instances of showing another point of view.

Reading this chapter, making me realize that Percy was not fighting for the 'right side', but the side his family was on. It wasn't just an obvious choice for good and evil anymore, it was the obligation of family vs duty, the first story this concept was ever introduced to me, and I'll always remember Calypso for that.

I will never understand people who hate Calypso for turning into a shrew by the time Leo comes around. This girl has been dealing with her curse longer than you can conceive of a timeframe, she's earned the right to be pissed and not nice anymore. She was at peace with it for as long as she could be, until she just couldn't handle it anymore. Can you imagine if a god popped in and delivered the news that Kronos was defeated once more and all the gods were now supposed to be taking more responsibility for their kids, and maybe even let slip that she should be let out of her punishment, and they just, didn't?

I imagine it being Demeter or something, all a flutter with excitement for all these new developments and then dropping this bomb, getting distracted by Calypso's beautiful begonias, and then cheesing it leaving Calypso in an understandably bitter future with her curse.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #Alex Fierro #Magnus Chase #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #fierrochase #percabeth

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