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supergraphicgirl81 · 14 days ago

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Destiny is Calling Me `♡´. ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader (She/Her)

Summary: After hurriedly being rushed to the club by Lando and Logan, Oscar grapples with flashbacks of his past relationship and ponders the idea of fate as he unexpectedly runs into his long-term ex-girlfriend in a run-down college club after over a year and a half of not talking, at a school neither of them planned on going.

Warnings: none, just some cursing

Words: ....9.7K

Authors Notes: Okay guys it's happening. I’m literally about to go out to the club but I wanted to make sure I got this out first, I finally tried writing a full story. NFBJFBOUERBGPRE I'm so nervous but this plot has been haunting my mind for ages now and I needed it in actual words, so here it is. Guys if it is bad just tell me PLEASE but other than that I really hope you guys enjoy !!!!!!!! BTW it's very long, so sorry

Oscar didn't know why he was there really.

What he did know was that he had just spent the past 7 hours studying for his Thermodynamics Exam that was on Monday and that he had to wake up at 8 a.m. to do it all over again tomorrow.

But like any good teammate, or well roommate in this case, when Lando and Logan text you in dire need of assistance at the club, you go with no hesitation, even if they failed to mention that the “emergency” was Oscar's so-called loneliness that Lando claims he could smell even from across the screen.

Oscar met Logan on the first day of college freshman year in some random class he can barely remember now. Logan always says it was Anthropology but Oscar swears it was Humanities.

On the first day of class, Logan had to ask Oscar for a pencil because he forgot one, which Oscar of course didn't mind giving, especially because he gave it back. So when Logan sat in the same seat right next to Oscar during their second class meeting and asked him again to borrow a pencil, an unannounced friendship was created.

After about a week of small talk between the two, Oscar learned that Logan was looking for a sport to fill up his schedule with while he was in the off-season for football. Oscar explained how he was actually looking to try out for the Ice Hockey team at the school if he also happened to be interested. He had played all throughout high school and was looking into picking it back up after taking a break.

It's safe to say Logan didn’t know how to play hockey, but he claimed he was a fast learner, Oscar still doesn’t know exactly how true that is.

Now, it just so happens that Logan and Oscar also ended up meeting Lando that same day. And by meeting I mean Lando ran right into Logan while riding his skateboard in a hurry to class. Lando made sure to quickly exchange his number before riding away (late) to class, sending many apologies later and even offering to hang out.

From there an odd but somewhat working trio was formed through many late-night hockey practices and class study sessions. Now in their second year and unfortunately living together, Lando and Logan are convinced about getting Oscar out of his shell and more into the scene in which Oscar always refuses. This leads him to where he is currently, at the club, on a Saturday night. Which to be fair, is probably where he should be anyway.

Unmoved by their usual antics Oscar rolls his eyes at the two before speaking up in a hurry, trying to leave as soon as possible

“Please don’t tell me you two called me down here because I was studying, in the quiet apartment, by myself?” Oscar emphasizes looking at Lando and Logan with his eyebrows raised and a deadpanned face.

Lando quickly looks away from staring at Oscar, quickly determining the floor to be more important as Logan tilts his head left and right, throwing his hands up in a shrug, making a weird face at Oscar.

That is exactly what they did.

After their faces and a silence that went on for a couple of seconds too long, Oscar exclaimed in annoyance, slightly throwing his hands out “Guys! I literally have a test on Monday, I’m in major study-panic mode, I can’t be wasting time here at the club.”

Lando immediately makes a shocked face at his words, offended by his soulless dismissal of the party life “But Oscarrrrrrrrr” He cries jumping up and down erratically before Logan puts a hand on his shoulder stopping him, and continuing on “Oh come on Oscar! Let’s be realistic here, you probably weren't even studying anyways, you were just listening to your “I’m still heartbroken over my ex” playlist, AGAIN” He insinuates, rolling his eyes at Oscar, he’s never met someone quite so down bad for a girl before, well besides maybe Charles Leclerc.

Oscar Deadpans before standing up for himself “The playlist is called Getting OVER My Ex, you know that!” rolling his eyes “And you would be too if you knew her!”

Logan lets out a loose chuckle as he moves forward to pull Oscar to the dance floor but Oscar quickly takes a step backward before any of the two boys can get him

“No. You know what?” Oscar states confidently, sticking his chest out hesitantly “I am leaving, get home safely.”

He swiftly turns around and is about to make his way to the exit, shaking his head ever so slightly when he freezes.

And there she is. Oscar sees her, clear as day. He could never mistake that familiar silhouette.

A blonde is briskly making her way through the crowded club into the bar line surrounded by two other girls. As he watches her go by from afar, he's taken aback, he still sees everything so clearly, just like it was yesterday.

FLASHBACK

It was Oscars freshman year and the first day back after Winter break, he was currently in between classes in the hallway and just about to head to the cafeteria to eat lunch with his friends. But first, he had to shove the extra textbooks Oscar checked out from the library for an up-and-coming project he had in his Biology class, into his locker.

Now Oscar oftentimes didn't mind work, but he couldn't believe that school had only just started back and his Bio teacher was already giving out projects to start. Not only that, but it was a partner project, meaning he either had to find a friend to partner with or just get stuck with a rando in his class picked for him by the teacher.

Guess which one Oscar was going with.

Oscar stood outside his locker messing with the lock trying to get it to open when he heard a familiar laugh. Looking up to his side at the noise he saw a group of girls walking and laughing down the halls, deep in conversation.

More importantly, he saw the prettiest girl ever, this blonde girl, Y/N L/N, he always saw her around school, she was in a couple of his classes, Biology actually being one of them.

One time in Biology she flipped her hair over her shoulder and (accidentally) made eye contact with him and smiled, and Oscar’s friend, Daniel, always claims that that was the best thing to ever happen to him.

Looking back to his locker and continuing back to grumpily shoving his textbooks in his locker, Oscar blocked out all other noises and conversations around him, just like he always did.

So much so that he even failed to hear the little ‘Hellos’ coming from his right side. To be fair she was standing directly behind the locker.

Oscar didn't even notice somebody was standing there until he shut his locker door, slamming it admittedly a little harder than intended. This caused both Y/N and Oscar to jump.

Well, she jumped because of the unexpected loud sound, Oscar jumped because Y/N L/N was currently standing right in front of him.

After Oscar just stared at her in silence for a few seconds too long, Y/N cleared her throat and started to speak “Uh, you're Oscar right?” She asks, the slightest pink ever so dusting her cheeks. Oscar nodded his head, starting to smile ever so slightly responding with “Yeah I’m Oscar. Y/N right?”

Shocked he knew her name as well Y/N smiled even brighter, standing up straighter “Yeah! It is, You're in my biology class, right?” “I am! I was actually just putting away some extra books I picked up, just some topic points for the project coming up” Oscar responds, huffing slightly at the end, clearly annoyed at the idea of the project.

Laughing lightly at his loud, telltale emotions Y/N speaks up “How annoying right? Like we just got back from break, how are you already freaking me out about my grades.” Y/N states still laughing, rolling her eyes as she comfortably leans against the locker looking at Oscar.

He laughs along with her sentiments feeling the same way, not exactly knowing what to say next.

She makes him nervous.

Noticing the sudden silence, Y/N straightens up standing up off the lockers, clapping her hands before starting her proposition.

“Well! As you know the Biology project is partner work, and I know you said you kind of already started with topics and everything but I was wondering -if you didn't have one already- if you wanted to maybe be partners?”

Oscar cuts her off, quickly responding to her question “Yes! I mean yeah, that sounds cool, I don't mind showing you the topics I’ve thought about” Oscar stutters out trailing off towards the end, blushing slightly at his own eagerness and nerves.

He soon though relaxed once he saw her smiling, laughing slightly at him.

“Alright then.” Y/N smiles at him, blushing slightly as well “Sounds good.” She finishes as she reaches into her backpack's front pocket and pulls out a pen and a sticky note, moving it to the locker so she can write her number on it as Oscar just stares at her writing her number for him and hands him the sticky note once she's done.

Just then the bell rings signaling that Lunch is starting, Y/N smiles at Oscar one more time before saying “Bye Oscar! I’ll text you later!” and turning around, walking down the hall towards the cafeteria where her friends are.

Oscar can't help but continue to watch her walk down the hall until she's fully gone. Smiling to himself, he then turns back around to face his locker, opening it back up once more, this time pinning Y/Ns sticky note to the locker door before he closes it for the last time and heads off to the cafeteria. His lunch just got a whole lot better, he can’t wait to tell Daniel.

It has been a full year since Oscar last saw her, maybe even longer. He can’t believe he just saw her.

Suddenly Oscar is jolted out of his trance when he feels a hand on his shoulder shaking him slightly, he hears Lando speak up “Uh Oscar, are you alright?”,

Logan asks quickly after “Yeah buddy, you kinda froze, me and Lando thought you were leaving?”

“She’s here” Oscar ominously states with slightly wide eyes.

Lando swiftly looks to his right and left scrunching up his face before speaking back up, scared of Oscar's implications, asking “Uh who’s she?”

Oscar then rolls his eyes shaking Lando's hand off of him before turning around and facing the two boys, crossing his arms, shiftily looking over their shoulders on the lookout, “My ex, I just saw her standing right over there in line, with her friends” Oscar states as he points towards the bar line on the far left side of the club.

The sound of the revelation causes Lando to let out the biggest gasp Oscar’s ever heard from him (and that's saying a lot) while Logan's eyes bulge out of his head, mouth agape. The two boys who were taken aback and stunned into silence quickly burst out into questions, loudly overlapping each other

“What do you mean your ex?” “Now are we sure it was her?” “Like THE three-and-a-half-year long ex?”

Oscar again rolls his eyes at the two antics (he swears his eyes really are going to get stuck like that), looking to the side towards the bar area spotting a glimpse of the familiar blonde hair now walking towards the dance floor, Oscar sighs before explaining shortly, “Of course I mean that ex, shes my only ex!” Oscar exclaims impatiently at Logan and Lando as he faces them again closing his eyes shortly,

“I’m unfortunately 100% certain that's her, I would recognize her anywhere. Literally, what do I do, she hates me! The last time I saw her she was uncontrollably crying at me. I have to leave now!” Oscar starts to ramble off, going through with his final decision, turning around and briskly starting to walk away before Lando can grab him by the shoulders and pull Oscar back to the two. After being pulled back deeper into the club, Oscar shuts his eyes tightly in order to avoid the situation at hand.

At the sudden, and very rare moment of silence, Oscar reopens his eyes to be met with Lando looking at his face all twisting up with concern, and Logan staring at him looking more determined than ever with his fist to his mouth, deep in thought.

Lando can't help but mumble quietly in response to Oscar as he awkwardly looks around the club “Well you did break her heart, I’d be crying too.” and Oscar can't help but let out a groan at Lando's insinuation as Logan starts his new plan of action for the night.

“Well okay now..” Oscar groans again, louder this time not wanting to hear what Logan has to say, throwing his hands up, Logan continues

“Let’s! Think about this. Oscar, what is exactly so bad about this whole thing?” Logan asks genuinely, waving his hands around towards the crowd.

With a face in shock and eyebrows raised high Oscar answers “Great question Logan, Let's see! Well uh for starters we dated for three amazing years and were supposed to last throughout college, until what happened again? Oh right! Until I broke us up right when high school ended so we could” Oscar finishes with quotations “experience life individually”

At the sound of Oscar's reasoning behind his and Y/Ns breakup, Oscar could see Lando's mouth drop even further, somehow more in shock Oscar would do something like that, and he himself couldn’t agree more.

Logan slightly cringes as Oscar explains his past before speaking up again “Okay, I’m hearing the issue, but still! What about the other parts of the three years, where you weren't breaking up with her? Weren’t they good?”

At Logan's simple but taxing question, Oscar lets out another breath he didn't notice he was holding as he answers him “Of course, they were good, being with her was the time of my life”

Oscar can’t help but smile ever so timidly as he remembers one of his favorite moments with her. God, it felt like so long ago now.

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently running around his room tidying it up in the last places he could as he frantically looked at the clock. 2:52. Fuck. She’s almost here.

Ever since that one fateful locker meeting where Y/N and Oscar decided to be Project partners, Y/N has been over at Oscar's house around three times a week to study, or at least that's what they were saying.

Now realistically when Y/N came over they spent about 25% doing the project, the rest of the 75% came in just talking, driving around the city, and hanging out with each other.

It started as just normal studying until Oscar asked if she wanted him to walk her home one night, and when she happily obliged, they got to talking. This led to talking during the study sessions, which then turned to talking over text, constantly, which led them to where they are today.

Not that Oscar was complaining, he has never had a better time while doing his homework.

But she's been coming around so often now that it's gotten even harder to just push his feelings aside. Especially when he's trying to explain presentation points to her and she’s just staring at him, smiling, he has a hard time staying on topic.

Sometimes he thinks he's positive that she returns his feelings, cause surely nobody wants to actually meet up that many times to go over a project, right? But some days he also realizes that you're Y/N and he's Oscar and that he's realistically never stood a chance.

So naturally, with the abundance of hanging out going on, Oscar invited Y/N, yet again, today after school to continue working on their Biology project, to which Y/N of course obliged.

Which leads him to where he currently was, frantically pacing around his room waiting for the clock to strike 3.

Just as Oscar was sorting out a couple of last loose items on his desk he heard a knock at his door, promptly causing him to roll his eyes, moving to open his bedroom door while simultaneously jokingly, but not jokingly scolding his mother “What Mom? You know Y/Ns coming over, what's so import-” Oscar stops mid-sentence as he opens his door to see Y/N standing there, in all her glory.

Making a shocked face, cheeks blushing ever so lightly, Oscar chuckles “Y/N! You are indeed not my mother” Oscar laughs it off, trying his hardest to not make things awkward as he stands frozen in the doorway.

Y/N noticing his very obvious nerves, tilts her head to the side and laughs it off “I am indeed not your mother. That would make this a little weird.” She ever so slightly insinuates pushing past Oscar and the door, into his room immediately making her way to his bed, after carelessly throwing her backpack to the side, she jumps onto Oscar's bed and flips around, lying on her stomach, kicking her feet up in the air.

Oscar watches in awe as she makes her way confidently through his room, straight to his bed. He shakes his head ever so slightly at her throwing her backpack before moving across the room as well, plopping down right next to her on his bed, laying down on his back.

Taking in the silence and her presence, Oscar closes his eyes briefly.

However after a couple of minutes, slightly perturbed by the silence from the usually chatty girl, Oscar reopens his eyes to check and see what she's up to.

He was deeply surprised to be met with her eyes already staring at him, she was smiling warmly at him with the faintest pink cheeks, hair strands falling down her face, she looked kind of perfect.

Caught off guard by the hard-staring Oscar raised a brow at her already questioning actions, before vaguely smirking while squinting and asking out loud “What are you staring and smiling at”

Feeling slightly caught, Y/Ns cheeks light up as she moves from her current position on his bed to crossing her legs. Still sitting right in front of him, she smiles sheepishly, trying, but not succeeding, to laugh it off “Nothing. Mind your business Piastri.”Y/N responds tilting her head to the side again as she continues to look down at Oscar.

This causes Oscar to smile brightly, pushing up on his forearms and resting on them so he’s closer to you before he answers your sass “I think this is my business.” Staring into Oscar's eyes you chuckle lightly at his response to you, squinting at him, it’s so Oscar.

There are a couple of moments of silence before Oscar lets out a large sigh and a smile, causing you to roll your eyes as Oscar then sits up from his position on his bed so he can grab his textbook at the edge of the bed saying “Alright then.” before laying back down in his same spot (maybe slightly closer to Y/N, but who’s counting).

Opening up the textbook, Oscar flips through the pages before landing on the one he's looking for, he then looks back up at Y/N asking “Ready to start?”

Y/N stared down at Oscar for a couple more seconds, nodding ever so lightly, but instead of answering, in one quick motion, she leaned down from her position and grabbed Oscar's face softly before kissing him.

The kiss was so short Oscar didn't even have time to resonate that he should be kissing back before she pulled away.

Moving quickly, Y/N moved to sit up relaxing slightly, sitting more on her side, smiling timidly, until Oscar carefully, but swiftly placed his hand on her face and pulled her back down again, kissing her this time. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds longer until they were pulling away again. The pair stayed there for a couple of seconds just looking at each other.

Both smiling like idiots, giggling softly, Y/N goes to respond to Oscar's previous question “Yeah, I’m ready.” She answers leaning slightly on him as she grabs her pencil, cheeks red and smiling widely.

Oscar chuckles along softly with her also moving closer to her before starting the project “Alright then, I think it's about time we talk about exploring the potential of biofuels for sustainable energy sources”

Coming back to his sad reality, Oscar opens his eyes to see Lando looking at him, almost on the verge of tears, yet jumping up and down exuberantly, before he goes to speak “Osc that's great news!” He finishes with a voice crack.

Oscar feels slightly weirded out by Lando's random burst of happiness over him and his ex-girlfriend he's never met and yet he also finds it comforting.

In an attempt to make Lando understand Oscar's situation more, Oscar tries to answer Lando “I mean not really at all, but thank you-” Oscar gets quickly cut off by Logan who is now looking at Oscar deeply offended.

“Oscar! I don’t get it. Your ex-girlfriend of three great years is here and you have the chance to rekindle it! You broke it off, and now you can mend it back up! Literally save the day!” Logan exclaims, which prompts Oscar to roll his eyes, annoyed by Logan's determination to solve this

“Logan you don’t understand. I broke it off for a reason” Oscar emphasizes, the guilt from that night starting to creep up on him.

Logan sees Oscar's growing impatience and decides to take it back a notch, slowing down for a second before responding to Oscar “You're right I don't understand. Why did you really break up with her? If it was so good then why did you end things?”

Oscar promptly goes to answer Logan “I-” Before stopping and huffing slightly, taking a couple of seconds before he decides to pull Logan and Lando further to the side of the still-busy club, making it easier for him to talk.

“I guess I was just scared.” Oscar lets out, staring back at Logan and Lando’s so far blank faces for a couple of seconds, before speaking again “I mean I know that's probably boring of me to say but, I was scared for me and Y/N to have a future together. All we had ever known was each other and I guess I just sort of started to wonder that maybe it would be best to live our lives a little separately.”

After that first sentence, the words just started to pour out of Oscar, it was easy for him to remember, he thinks about the night he decided more than he probably should.

FLASHBACK

Oscar sat there on the edge of his bed. He had just gotten out of the shower and was supposed to be starting on his AP English literature essay that’s due tomorrow which he had been pushing off recently.

But instead, he found himself just sitting there, thinking. He found that he often spent his life thinking these days, it felt like 24/7 to Oscar. Well you know, at least when he had the time to.

He was always thinking about something, whether he wanted to or not.

He was thinking about the hockey practices he needed to drill and nail down. If it wasn't hockey practices, it was the handful of college applications he had to complete, deadlines were coming soon. And of course, if it wasn't applications it was always Y/N.

And while yes in the first couple of years, Oscar never minded making Y/N one of his top priorities, now, it was starting to take a toll. It was Oscar's senior year of high school and instead of partying, having fun, and just letting loose he was always on edge, freaking out about his future.

He was nervous about his future in college, nervous about his future with hockey, and most nervous about his future with Y/N, recently he had just been thinking.

As he sits on his bed absentmindedly staring at his walls he feels his phone vibrate, looking at the message as it briefly pops up on his screen, Oscar sees Y/N's name flash across. Oscar subconsciously lets out a sigh as he stares at the screen until it goes black.

Lately, it’s almost like she's been getting on his nerves, Oscar just didn't know why.

Standing up abruptly, Oscar made his way over to his desk, picking up his backpack from the ground, and placing it on his desk. As Oscars grabs his notebook and textbook from his backpack the photos that he has had hung on his board since sophomore year catch his eye.

In particular, he focuses on the photobooth photo.

It’s a series of 4 photos of Y/N and Oscar on one of their dates, it was one of his favorites, it’s where he said I love you for the first time, cliche maybe, but it was perfect, kind of like them. Or at least kind of like how they used to be.

As Oscar stares at the photos of him and Y/N, he smiles ever so slightly, thinking of all the good times they’ve had before the small smile drops.

There his mind goes again, Oscar sighs heavily, he doesn't understand why he's having such trouble with your guy's relationship recently, he knows you guys fight, and maybe it's been more frequent than normal, but why has this relationship been such a strain on him?

It’s probably because it just turned into an unwanted cycle, Oscar calls Y/N and something about it makes her upset, Y/N goes over to Oscars and something upsets Oscar, and probably her as well. Everything was just starting to feel like a lose-lose situation and he wondered when this started happening.

As his thoughts start to rack up again, Oscar pauses grabbing his stuff from his backpack, and breathes slightly for a couple of seconds before moving to sit back on the edge of his bed.

He feels his phone vibrate again and he closes his eyes, thinking hard this time.

Oscar has had his eyes set on you since your guy's freshman year. Oscar has known he has wanted to be with you, for as long as you will allow, since freshman year. Oscar also knows that it has been 3 years since then and you both have grown, perhaps even differently.

Opening his eyes and turning his head. Oscar stares back at the photobooth photo, frowning slightly.

You two will be going to college soon and will be growing in so many different ways, so different that maybe staying together will hinder those experiences.

Oscar's thoughts feel silent for a second before he recognizes it, maybe that's what he has been feeling lately. Trapped in a box.

Going to college means new experiences, new traditions, new friends, and maybe even a new girlfriend? Or at least, experiencing the individual life. He doesn’t want another girlfriend outside of Y/N, he just doesn’t want a relationship at all in general right now.

That’s a new thought for him.

Hearing a faint noise from the kitchen, Oscar breaks out of his trance from staring at the photo. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom door, heading to the bathroom before catching himself in the mirror that hangs on the back.

He was surprised to see watery eyes staring back at him when he looked in the mirror. After standing there for what felt like an eternity, Oscar let out a little sniffle as he nodded slightly to himself, almost in agreement with what he just decided in his head.

He knew what he, unfortunately, needed to do, it was time for new experiences, right?

Lando speaks this time trying to break through to Oscar’s overwhelming silence “Okay… So now we get that part Oscar, but still, can’t you at least just talk to her about all of this? Explain it to her maybe?” Lando tries to reason before Logan speaks up “And for all you know, it's been a couple of years, you two have both probably changed so much, she knows that.”

Oscar stares at the two as they try to sound hopeful for him, Oscar feels bad for shooting the two down so fast. They just didn't understand the levels behind him and you.

It came out of nowhere, she was so blindsided he didn't see how she could forgive him, he wouldn't.

After a couple of seconds Oscar sighs again before raining on their parades “You guys don't understand how it went down. You didn't see her face. I genuinely had never seen her so upset before.” Oscar winces as the memory replays in his head before sighing and continuing.

“And the worst part was that I was the one that caused it.” He regrets every day how it all went down, that’s not how he wanted you two to go out.

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, again. Frozen in something. Fear, guilt, annoyance, he didn’t know.

What he did know is that after the revelation he made Monday, he decided on a plan for himself, now it was Friday night, and he had invited you over.

You were currently sitting on his bed as well, just much more relaxed, leaning up against his headboard, staring at him as he sat there on the edge.

See, Oscar about five minutes ago was just cuddling with you until he had to go to the bathroom, but then when he came back, instead of getting back in bed with you, he sat on the edge of the bed.

After about two minutes of silence, Y/N decides to finally see what’s happening

“Uh, hey Osc?” She questions as she moves from her position to sitting right behind Oscar, placing her hand on his shoulder blade and continuing with her question “What’s happening? Is everything okay?”

At the sound of her last question, Oscar closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before opening his eyes and letting out his breath. Oscar turns his body to the side so he can look at Y/N. He sees her smiling small at him, with no clue in the world.

“I think we should break up”

Oscar watches clear as day as Y/Ns smile slowly drops, her face quickly turning deadpan “What?” She mumbles out, wanting to make sure she actually heard him correctly.

There is absolutely no way she just heard him correctly.

At the sight of her state, Oscar starts to panic and ramble “I just think that at this stage in our life, it would be best to live our own, individual lives and not be so caught up in each other.” Y/N doesn't say anything as her eyes rapidly start to water, threatening to spill as Oscar continues on, even more flustered

“I mean think about it, we haven't even actually been truly happy in a while!” Oscar exclaims still in panic. This last sentence causes all the tears to start coming out as Y/N quickly moves to stand up off his bed, roughly grabbing her backpack as she simultaneously wipes her consistently flowing tears.

Oscar quickly stops his overflowing words at the sight of the girl he loves grabbing all her loose items around his room, sobbing quietly, the weight of his actions now weighing on him.

The room is silent besides the clattering sound of Y/N picking up her stuff and Y/Ns muffled cries

“Y/N” Oscar mumbles out, she lets out another sob, standing still for a second as she turns even farther away from him, almost as if she were waiting for him to continue on. Oscar noticing her pause, takes the hint “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

She lets out a watery scoff at Oscar's weak apology, turning around and glaring at him slightly as she asks “You're sorry? You're breaking up with me. But you're sorry?”

Oscar can feel his heart breaking at the tone of her voice, all he can do in this situation is nod at the crying girl mumbling back “I am”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds more, tears still falling as you let out a short breath, shaking your head “God, Three years Oscar! Three years we’ve been together, literally through everything, and now all this” Y/N gestures wildly with her hands between the two “because you want to try new experiences.”

As Y/N finishes her emotional tangent Oscar can’t help but just stand and stare at her. This is so different to him, so… not them.

Oscar nods his head ever so slightly again, shrugging along with it, tired of having to constantly explain everything. Y/N stares at him for a little bit longer, almost as if she's taking in all his last details as if she’ll never see him again.

After about a minute Y/N lets out a short sniffle as she moves to grab her backpack from his desk, before turning back around to Oscar

“I hope you have the time of your fucking life.” Y/N states bitterly before walking past him out his bedroom door for the last time. Oscar quickly calls out in a moment of desperation “Y/N/!” But Oscar soon hears his front door slam close and lets out an unexpected breath.

It takes Oscar about three minutes until he decides to move from where he's standing.

At least that's how much time he thinks he was frozen, he wasn’t really paying too close attention, his mind was somewhere else. Oscar couldn't decide what he was currently feeling.

On one side, he was relieved, he felt like a weight had honestly been lifted off his shoulder.

But on the other side, Oscar was convinced he just lost the love of his life.

Oscar finally made the move to sit down opting for his favorite spot, the edge of the bed. As he sat down, he closed his eyes for a second and just breathed.

He felt okay, almost alright, it was a big step, but he was happy he went through with it, this was the first step to feeling better he just knew it. Or at least he thought he knew. Until he opened his eyes and looked to his right and there it was, as it always was, the photobooth photo.

That’s when everything came crashing down on Oscar.

He was so scared, so unsure of his own future that instead of leaning on the one person who would help him through anything to talk about things, he pushed you away, so far away.

In fact, he didn't push you away, he absolutely obliterated your heart.

You gave him three years, three challenging, yet perfect years, that he would never have changed for the world, and all he did to repay you was make empty promises and stomp on your heart.

Oscar felt like he was going to be sick.

“The worst part was the second she left, I regretted it immediately. I’ve never stopped regretting it actually.” Oscar states as he solemnly looks towards the floor.

Hearing no response, Oscar lifts his head up, raising a brow looking back at Logan and Lando, questioning their silence “What? No “How could you do that to her” or “You're right Oscar she should hate you”?” Oscar offers, still confused and slightly thrown off by their unnatural quietness.

Lando lets out a short chuckle as Logan starts back up “Look Oscar, you guys were kids! Literally, and you spent multiple years growing up together, it's normal to take breaks, and it's normal to make mistakes. I genuinely think if you just tried and talked to her it could actually work out pretty well for you” Logan bargains with Oscar as he looks towards the dancefloor having a clear view shot of her with her friends.

He lets out an unknowing, reflective smile as he sees her newer yet ever-the-same frame dancing around to the song. He looks back to Logan with a small smile on his face, somewhat content that he even got to see her after all this time. Especially looking this well.

“Look Logan… oh and Lando” Oscar off-handily gestures to the latter, Lando quickly bows his hand at the added sentiment

“I appreciate it, but I think our time has just passed. I had a great thing and I threw it away.” Oscar confesses “And while I don’t regret it, because I'm glad I've gotten to take this path in life and meet these people,” Insinuating to the two standing in front of him, which they both coo at, covering their hearts with their hands

“I do miss her.” He finally admits out loud “But hey, that’s life.” Oscar ends his speech with a small shrug in proper Oscar fashion.

Logan lets out a long “Booo” at Oscar's confession making him chuckle faintly before Lando steps in, bringing up the energy again.

“That’s alright man, we just want you to be happy!” Lando states as he throws an arm around Oscar's shoulder “Thanks, mate.” Oscar gratefully replies “Anything you want, we will understand-” Lando drunkenly and unnecessarily continues on before Logan sharply cuts him off, “I think he's got it, Lando.” Logan pats Landos back.

“And what I want” Oscar starts as he moves out from underneath Lando's arm, “is to go home and study. Alone. By myself. Just me and my playlist” Oscar clarifies to the two making sure they got the hint to which Logan quickly replies

“Yeah yeah, message received, get home safe dork.” He finishes as he ruffles Oscar's hair causing Oscar to let out a scoff and push him away as he replies “You too. Look out for him” He says as he throws his head in the direction of Lando who is already back to dancing before he turns around towards the exit.

Starting his journey through the perimeter of the club, Oscar narrowly avoids many drunk rando encounters, including an almost dangerous spill of some sort of brown liquor, before finally making it to the exit.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard the familiar tune. Oscar would remember those opening notes from anywhere.

More so Oscar would remember who he was staring at when the notes first actually meant something to him.

This has to be some sort of fate. What are the odds she’s here, at his random college, twenty feet away while their once-called song plays.

This has got to be some kind of sign.

Stopping directly in his tracks at the so-called fateful revelation he just had, Oscar made a quick and easy decision. He briskly turned around in his spot and swiftly made his way back through the bar area of the crowded club, passing all the same strangers from the first time, before eventually coming out on the other side, slightly out of breath.

Who knew navigating through a club was such a workout?

Oscar immediately spotted Logan and Lando standing on the outer crowd of the dancefloor dancing weirdly, and he booked his way back over to them.

Slightly out of breath Oscar's pants as Logan exclaims towards him in confusion “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

Oscar goes to answer him but is quickly cut off by Lando also questioning “We thought you were going home?”

Rolling his eyes and still breathing hard from the fast walking, Oscar finally lets out a short “It's our song.”

Both of their faces stared back at him, scrunched in confusion, they didn't hear him over the blaring music, Lando obnoxiously yelled out in response “What?”

Oscar rolls his eyes yet again before yelling even louder this time “It’s me and Y/Ns song!”

This causes Lando to immediately gasp “Oh my god!” Lando yells in response as he starts jumping up and down “That has got to be a sign!” He excitedly starts hitting Logan repeatedly before he pushes him off, and starts asking Oscar in a wondering tone

“What do you mean by your guy's song? That’s very old-fashioned and almost out of date don't you think? Very not Oscar thing.” He asks raising his eyebrow, sort of caught off-guard that Oscar participated in something like that before continuing “I mean especially this song?”

Oscar briefly rolls his eyes before backing your guy's relationship up “Yea, Look, I always thought the same thing but she was always really into music and always so set on us finding a song. So I would always recommend some that made me think of her and everything but she always shot them down until one night we were out at a party, and it just clicked. And I got what she meant, every time I hear this song now I feel like I'm kind of transported to that night”

As the song continues playing around him he takes a couple of seconds to remember it clearly.

FLASHBACK

“Come on Osc, don’t be such a party pooper!” Y/N exclaims towards the boy as she throws her hands in the air.

It was a Saturday night and you two were currently at a random classmate's house party standing closely at the drinks table. Oscar was in the middle of pouring her and him a random mixed drink as she continued to plead and beg at him.

She’s spent the last ten minutes of the party trying to corral Oscar onto the dancefloor with her. She kept claiming to him that she was in serious need of dancing but she refused to go out there alone and he refused to go with her.

While she loved to dance and would do it anywhere, anytime, to any music, Oscar very much was the opposite. He found it awkward and it always made him uncomfortable. For her, he would always try and every once in a while, she could get a little dance out of him, although most times he just avoided the question altogether.

But tonight didn't seem to be one of those nights.

As Oscar holds out the drink handing it to her, sipping on his own, she continues with her tangent “I just don't see why you won't just go out there with me at least for one song! That’s all I'm asking”

She takes the drink from his hand, offering a small thank you as she goes to drink it, her throat burning from the strong taste causing her nose to scrunch up. Oscar smiles a small smile at her before rebutting

“It’s just not my thing Y/N, you know that” He responds ever so nicely causing Y/N to let out a little, sad sigh “I know, I thought I would still at least try” She smiles dimly as she chugs the rest of her drink before smiling at him

“Welp! If you need me, I’ll be on the dance floor” She states, leaning forward to him slightly as she finishes her statement, giggling slightly as he chuckles along with “Alright now, be safe out there” He states watching her make her way to the dance floor.

And that’s where Oscar spends his next five minutes, chilling against a random wall, sipping a way too strong a drink he made as he watches her dancing around with some random girls she just met.

Every once in a while she would look over at him and smile brightly, almost asking if he wanted to join her, to which he'd always do a small head shake and smile back in response. He was perfectly fine by the wall.

That was until the opening chords to Mr. Brightside started.

At first, Oscar rolled his eyes, he honestly couldn't believe that they were whipping out Brightside at this random ass house party. He wasn’t new to this song, he’s heard it plenty of times at parties, but it was never anything special to him.

That was until he saw her lighting up on the dance floor, jumping around at the opening chords, he remembered once before how she told him what this song felt like for her, just pure happiness, and now watching her dance around to it out there, he finally gets what she meant.

That's when Oscar realizes just how stupid he is for standing, leaning against a damn wall like a loser while his beautiful, amazing girlfriend is out there waiting to have fun with him.

He shakes his head at himself before quickly chugging the rest of his drink, throwing it into the trashcan, and making his way over to her on the dance floor.

“Mind if I join?” Oscar asks the simple question as he lands right in front of Y/N in the middle of the crowd, once she realizes it is him her face immediately lit up, exclaiming happily

“Oscar! You’re here! Just in time, I love this song” She yells, jumping up and down in front of him as he bops along softly to the song

“Do you really? I never knew.” He states smiling brightly as he watches her dancing around to the song.

What can he say, she and Mr. Brightside go along together really well.

Just as the pre-chorus was building she excitedly grabbed Oscar’s hands, still dancing around as she sang along to the chorus loudly “Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis” Y/N laughs loudly leaning into Oscar slightly, catching her off guard as he also starts to yell along to the chorus,

“But it's just the price I pay! Destiny is calling me!” He enthusiastically moves his hand as if it is a microphone between the two of them as they both yell out the rest of the chorus

“Open up my eager eyes! Cause I’m Mr. Brightside” Y/N continuously laughs as she continues to dance around with Oscar to the song.

She's never seen him like this, she wishes she could frame it on her wall and never lose this Oscar, he was perfect.

Staring at him with bright eyes she leans in slightly and yells out to him over the finishing song “Do you know what just happened?” Oscar curiously raises an eyebrow as he continues smiling at her, already enjoying what she's about to say.

“That just became our song” She blushes proudly as she does a little dance, happy that it happened to be Mr. Brightside of all songs.

Oscar laughs softly at her antics as he responds “I guess it did, I think I get it now.” He says as he gives her one last smile before leaning in quickly, pecking her on the lips, and continuing to dance around, both laughing hard.

“What a bummer man” Logan responds at the idea of Oscar feeling stuck in this song.

Again, Mr. Brightside of all choices? He did it to himself.

Until Lando abruptly shoves him to the side “No!” He states boldly, grabbing Oscar's shoulders, shaking them slightly as he gives his big speech of the night (this happens every time Lando drinks)

“This is what I call a sign Oscar. A sign from the world that you and this girl were meant to be. Please tell me, what are the odds that you run into Y/N at a random college club, let alone have your guy's song come on?” Silence overtakes the two, neither of them answering

“I'm for real Oscar, tell me the odds?!” Lando shouts shaking him harder, causing Oscar's eyebrows to knit in confusion, drunk Lando has lost him. “Lando, I don't know?” He states shrugging heavily before Landos yells at him again

“Exactly! Who the fuck knows and who the fuck cares! Go talk to the damn girl Oscar and make her fall in love with you again!” Lando finishes his tangent with a one-handed shove to Oscar, pushing him farther towards the dancefloor.

Oscar nods his head slowly feeling actually charged by Lando's speech, surprisingly, he's right.

Who cares, he messed up and he still misses you, why should he let this opportunity pass him when you're right there? Who knows when he’ll see you again?

“You're right Lando.” Oscar admits “Damn right, I am!” Lando exclaims loudly at Oscar's revelation “Not too much now” Logan states again patting his shoulder and pulling him back slightly. Oscar rolls his eyes at the comment but continues

“I’m going to go find her and talk to her.” Oscar confidently states starting to walk away to the crowd as the two other boys cheer him on before Oscar quickly stops and turns back around to face the boys causing them to let out a series of disappointed, but not surprised ‘ooos’ and ‘awes’.

Oscar smiles sheepishly before clarifying “Or at least just say hi.” Oscar reasons with them, Logan and Lando nod along to that, agreeing with him as they continue to cheer him on, whooping and hollering again as he walks away “You get that girl!” “We’re proud of you Oscar!”

Oscar chuckles to himself faintly as he makes his way back through the crowd once again, this time on a mission to find Y/N, especially before the song ends.

He thought it would take forever to be honest having to sift through all the people, but it didn't take him long to find her familiar blonde hair and smile.

I guess old habits die hard.

Once he spotted her he quickly made his way through the people, apologizing here and there before finally reaching her. He’s just lucky she had an empty pocket around her in the middle of the crowded club.

Oscar found himself standing directly behind her and after catching his breath for a second, he planned on tapping her shoulder. Well, if only he would just move.

He didn't know what was happening but he was frozen, just like plenty of times before, all his doubts were starting to creep in. He even started to wonder if he should just turn around and leave and he almost did

That was until somebody accidentally shoved the random guy standing right next to him causing him to slightly fall right into Y/N.

Well, shit. No going back now.

As soon as Y/N turned around her eyebrows immediately shot up and her mouth dropped open, and after about a second of stuttering she finally got out her question “Oscar?” Confusion and amazement all over her face before Oscar answers

“Y/N.” She immediately in return let out “Oh my god” To which Oscar couldn't help but agree “Oh my god is right”

As if she's double-checking a list of impossible things in her head she asks one last question “And Mr. Brightsides playing?” Oscar winces slightly but plays it off quickly “It is” Oscar responds sheepishly as the song continues to surround them, almost feeling louder now.

Did they turn the sound up in the club, or was it just Oscar?

After a couple of seconds, maybe minutes of silence Oscar and Y/N accidently speak up at the same time “Hi.” “Hey” The two mumble over each other, unaware of how to go about the unfamiliar awkwardness

“Do you want to step outside?” Y/N asks as Oscar nods his head rapidly and shyly responds “Yeah, that would be nice” She gives him a final nod as well then loosely, takes his wrist in hand, and makes her way, leading the two of them through the busy crowd.

As the two of them walk through the club to get outside, Oscar sees a glimpse of Lando and Logan who happen to be throwing him the biggest smiles he’s ever seen with big thumbs up.

Rolling his eyes, he picks up his speed ever so slightly so they can get away from everyone faster, he hopes she didn’t notice them.

She didn't.

She was too caught up in the fact that she was currently guiding her long-time ex-boyfriend through a club so they could finally talk.

As the two of them finally make it out of the club they just stand there for a couple of seconds, the now very sudden silence filling in all the gaps.

Y/N makes a move and sits on the curb of the sidewalk outside the club, resting her head on her arms that are draped over her legs, taking in the silence outside. This isn't exactly where she imagined her night going.

At the need of wanting to stay close, Oscar swiftly follows her as he moves to sit right next to her on the curb, staring at the building lights that surround them before turning his head to stare at Y/N who was also enjoying the lights.

Oscar can’t help but let out the softest smile at the sight of the same girl he grew up right next to.

Feeling his eyes on her, Y/N turns her head to face him as he's staring at her, ready to start the conversation that's been hanging in the air “Oscar” She starts slowly “Y/N” He responds.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, or ever again really.” She sheepishly admits to him before continuing on “What brings you here tonight?” She asks, wanting to at least start a genuine conversation before she asks him why he broke her heart.

Caught slightly off guard by the casual question, Oscar answers “Uh, well I was actually studying for a big midterm I have coming up but my roommates, Logan and Lando called me here in an emergency.”

This causes Y/Ns face to immediately change from listening to concerned, knitting her eyebrows together, placing her hand softly on Oscar's arm, ready to console “Oh my god are they okay?”

He blushes at the contact before stuttering “Oh yeah they're fine, don’t worry about them. They just didn't want me studying on a weekend, they get weirdly concerned for me.” Oscar embarrassingly admits, making a puzzled face as he confesses his roommate's overbearing protection as Y/N giggles ever so slightly in response.

“I didn’t know you went here.” She states boldly with slight confusion written all over her face, gesturing to the school campus surrounding them

“I mean I just never heard about it before when we were,... you know.” She awkwardly leads off, as he ineptly chuckles, rubbing his neck and explaining how he landed at this school

“Yeah I just figured I needed something completely new, try something out just for myself.” He finishes as he moves his vision from her to the road in front of them, feeling guilty for how he's sounding right now.

It's reminding him a lot of that night.

There are a couple more beats of silence before she decides to speak up “I get what you mean. That's why I chose this school too, a fresh restart, a chance to grow singularly.” She says with a slight smile

Oscar moves his vision back onto her, and smiles small at her, nodding along with her sentiments as he hears the growth in her letting out the smallest “Yeah.”

Maybe this time it can be different.

There are a couple of more beats of silence when they're just staring at each other before Y/N speaks up and finally asks the question

“Why did we break up?”

He feels his eyes quickly become glassy at the sound of her frail voice, he looks down quickly at the floor, sniffling before looking back up at her and finally explaining himself

“I got scared. I was being a stupid teenage boy and I threw everything away because I thought that I would find something better out there. I was being selfish and I broke your heart, and I’m so sorry.” Oscar lets out a genuine confession as he watches her face contort to the information.

Eyes watering even more she lets out a small scoff before saying something he wasn't expecting “You weren't being stupid Oscar. And you especially weren't being selfish.”

Finishing with a sniffle, Oscar knits his eyebrows at the sound of this and opens his mouth to say something before Y/N continues

“You did the right thing. You actually did a very brave thing that I would’ve always been too afraid to do. I knew we had issues, and I knew the second I left your room that you were right. We did need time apart to grow individually, it fucking sucked, but you made the right call.” Y/N admits as she looks upon him with a small, sad smile

“I just wish you would have talked about it with me and we could have made the decision together but hey, it seemed to work out well for the two of us” She finishes with a watery laugh as he nods along.

“I know, I should have, and I'm sorry I didn't. I don't know why I felt like I had to do everything by myself. But you're right, it seemed to turn out well for us.” Oscar states

“That it did” She repeats back to him smiling softly at him as she leans back against her arms resting on her legs

Oscar smiles back as he looks down at her, he speaks again quietly, almost in a whisper “I’m sorry again, you didn't deserve that, I regret it every day knowing that I made you upset like that”

Y/N takes in his genuine face, eyes flitting all around before smiling small and responding with a “Thank you, Oscar, I appreciate it”

He just continues to smile at her in response for a little before turning his head back to building lights, soaking in the silence he gets to spend just sitting here with her.

After a couple more minutes Oscar turns back to her to find Y/N fighting to keep her eyes open as she stares around her. This causes Oscar to let out a small chuckle as he asks her

“Should I uh, walk you back to your dorm” This causes Y/N to close her eyes, nodding sleepily as she responds to his offer “That would actually be great, thank you”

He chuckles at her state as he stands up before sticking his hands out to Y/N to help her stand up which she easily obliges before asking her

“So where do you live?”

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prettypei · 1 year ago

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hii i enjoy your writing! may i request fluff drabbles for gojo, choso, yuta, noritoshi (kamo from the kyoto school) and hajime (aka kashimo the turquoise haired pikachu) please? like he's in an established relationship with reader and they're out on a cute date, being domestic and behaving like an old married couple. some ideas: ikea, grocery shopping, aquarium, art gallery, science museum/observatory etc

bonus if there are sweet romantic moments~ i'm fine with either fem or gender neutral reader, thank you i hope you'll consider my request! i just need something comforting to read bc shibuya arc has started in the anime while the manga is kinda at a tensed climax rn and i feel stressed lmao

plot: cute dates/domestic couple thingys with them!; fluff

reader: gn! Reader

characters: gojo, yuuta, choso, kashimo, kamo

warnings: yuutas kinda mean in this (but in a yuuta way)

(a/n): first req!!!!!! Hi hello anon I hope u like it 💪💪💪 gojo’s bento is very stereotypical Japanese LOL…KAMO IS SRSLY UNDERRATED!!!! Erm I also have like zero knowledge of flowers so sorry if it’s inaccurate, KAMOS IS SUPER CHEESY ENDING GBHBHJHHJHJH

✰CHOSO

Choso loves art. But he doesn’t only love art, he also loves you. So when you suggested to take him to the art museum for a date, he was overjoyed by the thought. But… he was embarrassed that you would see his drawings of you, so he hid it discreetly in his bag when you went to the museum. Yes, he paints you. Sketches you, even. But he’s way too shy to admit it, because god, he could never capture the way your eyes glinted or the way your smile stood out or the expression of pure bliss when he kissed you… he tries to avoid drawing you, but he can’t. You’re in every thought of his. And now, he’s trying to hide his notebook from you. He’s hugging it close to his chest, hiding it under his book bag as he mimicked the painting in front of him. It was a simple one, really…but it looked like it was missing something. He thought for a minute and his brain clicked. It was missing you. You would fit perfectly into it, since your eye color would stand out splendidly. He just finished drawing your face before… “whatcha doing?” He stumbles and knocks over his collection of colored pencils over the bench he was sitting on. “Nothing.” “Are you drawing something? Can I see it?” You ask excitedly. And honestly, could he ever say no to you? He mumbled a bit as he gave the book to you and started picking up the colored pencils, and you were surprised to see your own face staring back at you. “Is-is this me?” You smile. You flip through the book, and you noticed how your face was on almost every page. Choso looks up with a flustered face. “I-well-kinda? Yeah?” You drop down to the floor and hug him. “You’re so cute.” You mumble with a grin on your face. If he had known this would’ve made you like this he would’ve shown you this ages ago.

✰YUUTA

You and yuuta were at the grocery store, the second time this week, because food was running out again, since yuuta always insists on "buying just enough for both of us so we don't waste any food". If you didn't lie, you thought he quite enjoyed your silly little trips to the groceries. Even though the walk was short, you and yuuta often point out interesting things that cross your path. Last week you saw a dog wearing a fur coat, and just yesterday yuuta heard a construction worker whistle out the tune to "From the start" by Laufey. It's those simple things that quickly become inside jokes for the both of you. Upon arriving at the store, you usually follow yuuta as he shops for suitable groceries for today's lunch and dinner. But...after going shopping with him 3 times when you were dating, you noticed yuuta had a habit of looking at food labels. For a really long time. As yuuta examines the ingredients for the canned pineapples (why would you even need to do that? It's literally just pineapples!) you whine about how he's taking so long that you've started getting wrinkles. He then proceeds to give you a chuckle and a "wait a minute, love." and continue to read the can's contents. "(name)." He calls out your name in the most serious tone you've ever heard him in. "what?" He reaches into the cart and takes out a can of "grilled takoyaki balls: freshly made" and gives you a disgusted look. You shrug sheepishly.

✰GOJO

"(NAME)!!! (NAMEEEE)!!!" A tic almost forms at your forehead when you hear that sound, and, lo and behold, it is your husband once again embarrassing you in front of your co-workers. You walk over to him while crossing your arms. "What are you doing?" You hiss as the women (and men) all around you give you jealous looks. "Can't I surprise my darlin' at work once in a while?" He grins while holding up a bento box. Your eyes soften as you look at the homemade bento. Yeah, it probably tastes like shit cuz Gojo really can't cook, but...it's nice to see him put in an effort once in a while. "I wanna see your reaction when you eat it." He says stubbornly as he pulls your hand into the office building. "Oh boy." You think when Gojo shrugs off the security guard and waves to everyone as he waltzes into the lunch break room like he owns the place. He pulls a chair down for you and sits down in another one. "Open it, open it!" He smiles. You roll your eyes with a chuckle, and you're expecting to see some unidentified gunk, but to your surprise, it's a cute bento with sausages shaped like squid, egg rolls tucked in nicely next to the fried rice, and meat balls on a stick. “I made it four times, did you like it? And, well, I may or may have not made our kitchen a mess but it’s worth-“ You shut him up with a kiss.

✰KAMO

“Kamo, love?” “Yes, dear?” “Look at how gorgeous these Daffodils are!” You pick up a potted plant of them as Kamo miles at you. Going on dates to flower shops had become a routine for you and Kamo, since you both would do it weekly. “Yes, darling, they are beautiful. Not as beautiful as you though.” “Shut up.” You scoff as you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. Kamo has a wide knowledge about flowers, knowing what each of them symbolize and what they represent. Before dating Kamo, you would’ve never known that red, white and pink carnations had different meanings, or that white Hyacinths stood for loveliness. Most of the time on these dates you would stroll through each aisles, pointing out flowers or plants that you thought were cute. Kamo would then proceed to tell you the meaning. On the surface, it may seem like a repetitive action, but with Kamo, everything feels new and interesting. He may tell you a story about what this plant reminds him of, or about how this flower wilts to your beauty. At the end of every date (usually the shopkeeper has to kick you both out) Kamo buys you a bouquet of flowers, each symbolizing something about your relationship with one another. Even though sometimes the flowers wilt and you have to throw them away, he knows that his love for you never will.

✰KASHIMO

"Kashi! You look just like it!" Kashimo hums as he opens one eye to see you holding up a cat. You both are at a cat cafe, since you really do love cats and, well, Kashimo doesn't mind cats, really. But when he met you (a certified-cat-lover) his love for them had grown. Now, whenever he sees a stray cat on the street, he takes a picture and shows it to you. "Do I? Its hair's not green." He points out. "Well, it doesn't have to be! You and him both give off the same vibes! I just saw him standing on top of the bookshelf, thought it looked lonely." "You think I'm lonely?" He teases, getting down from his seat to sit on the floor with you. “Nah. You’re never lonely with me.” You grin. “Say hi to it!” “Hello.” He says with a deadpan face. “You have to be friendly with it!” “Hello.” He smiles an obviously forced grin. “😐” “I love you.” “Okay.” “C’mon, baby don’t be like that.” He smirks as he scoots in closer with you. You roll your eyes as you start playing with the cat. Kashimo’s eyes narrow as he snatch’s the cat away from your arms. “Hey!” “If you keep on playing with it more than me, I’m gonna think you were wishing you were dating it.” He ruffles its hair as he lets it go. “You’re so mean. It’s cute! Unlike you.” “Who exactly is the mean one?” You giggle and poke his cheek. “I’m joking, joking. I love you.” There’s a moment of silence as he takes in the words. “Well, I love you more. If this is a competition, I’m definitely gonna win.”

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dinkydonky · 2 years ago

Text

A cheerful hymn

"Jareth X reader who sings under her breath while working or out loud if she thinks she’s alone, and Jareth hearing her for the first time"

I'm making this one gender neutral just so everyone can read!! Also Y/N is a writer hehe

I sat alone in my room tapping my pencil on my desk trying to come up with a good concept for my next novella. I write these small books for the goblins, as I'm quite fond of them and they need a break or two every now and then to do things on their own. But now, I've hit a wall in my mind. I just can't seem to create a solid plot anymore. I started to hum a small tune out of boredom just to fill the silence. It slowly turned into a little song after a while. I sang quietly, under my breath so Jareth couldn't hear from his throne room. I was embarrassed of my voice. His was so gorgeous I didn't want him to judge me.

"Y/N?" Jareth said as he walked into my room. I was startled because I was rather lost in thought when he suddenly walked in. Luckily I stopped singing before he could hear.

"Sorry, uh... You startled me a little, what is it, honey?" I asked.

"I just wanted to come in and say hi. You look tired, need a break?" He replied. God, he was so sweet.

Looking back at my blank paper I've been staring at for the past hour, I decided he was right.

"I suppose I do need a break. I'm not getting any writing done." I sigh as I get up out of my chair and take Jareth's cold and slender hand.

-- time skip --

I whistled as I organized all of my pens and pencils which were skattered across my pale white desk. Jareth was out running errands so it was just me in our castle. As I cleared my desk, I started to sing a little tune I had written for one of my books. It was a cheerful little hymn and I sung it louder and louder without even noticing.

I continued singing when I heard a soft knock on the door. I abruptly stopped and opened the door. It was Jareth.

"I heard you singing." He purred. He flashed you a smile before hugging you closely.

"Oh, lord I'm sorry you had to hear that... I'm certain I was off key or something." You blushed.

Jareth broke the hug briefly and held your shoulders, looking you right in the eyes. "Now what do you mean? That was a stunning little song you were singing. Why don't you ever share your talents with me?"

"Well, you know, your voice is just so beautiful and well, compared to yo-"

He shushed you.

"Don't talk like that, star. Your singing voice is just as magical as mine. I would love to sing with you. Whenever you like. Now, don't be shy, finish your number."

The end!!

Please give me more requests I'd love to answer them 🩷🩷

#david bowie #david bowie x reader #jareth #jareth the goblin king #jareth x reader #jareth the goblin king x reader

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 4 months ago

Text

Talks with Brothers

Author's note: More of Petras in Husbandry, Divergence AU. Thank you to @kit-williams, for letting me borrow Arnault. :)

Summary: Arnault finds out about the suspiciously accurate Serf’s outfit and gets the details out of Petras on who/how/where he got it. Petras takes his first tailoring commission, among other things.

Warning: Let me know if I need to add anything

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Petras scowls at Arnault, who’s leaning in the entryway of the home he shares with his Bonded, and Arnault drawls out leadingly, “So…”

“Was?” He growls out scowling at Arnault.

Petras had been forced to stop making another lovely gift for his Bonded because Arnault had randomly sent him a message saying that he was going to be stopping by. He’d sworn at his vox device before responding and not-stomping his way out to the living room begrudgingly let Arnault in.

“My Angela and Roland’s Backerin were speaking with your Bonded recently,” Arnault says lightly, “She was wearing a Concubina Serf’s outfit.”

“... And what if it?” Petras asks.

“Where’d you get such an accurate re-creation of it?” Arnault asks, almost vibrating with how intense his curiosity and need to know.

“Why do you want to know?” Petras grumbles squinting suspiciously at Arnault.

“Because, I want to commission and buy und outfit like that for my darling Angela.” Arnault replies, “I’m willing to pay a lot for the work. The materials are good quality und the outfit is durable, comfortable and could be used more than once.”

“I see,” Petras says, feeling a bit flattered and still suspicious.

“Please give me the address of the tailor- likey a brother or cousin from either mine or your Era, or somewhere inbetween to get it so period accurate,” Arnault continues speaking.

“... If I tell you who was the tailor,” Petras says, “You will keep your mouth shut about it, Ja?”

“Of course,” Arnault replies.

Petras squints at Arnault for a few moments before taking in a deep breath through his nose, “I was the one to make that outfit for my beloved.”

He crosses his arms and almost glares at Arnault, daring him to say something about it. Arnault pauses, and seems to be calculating something and The Emperor’s Champion asks, “Can I commission you for a Concubina Serf’s outfit?”

“I will need her exact measurements,” Petras says, “Und- if it doesn’t quite fit, I will have to have her come here to adjust the fitting of it. I am not going to bandy about this- this type of commission lightly to others.”

“Ja, ja,” Arnault says as he grabs a blank piece of paper and a pencil and writes his beloved Angela’s exact measurements from memory.

“Also a couple of follow up questions, before I go and make this outfit,” Petras says, “Are there kinds of clothes that she doesn’t like the feel of? What about you?”

“Nien, she can wear any kind of cloth and be content with it,” Arnault says with a shake of his head after thinking for a few moments to recall if she did or not. “I will pay you $6,000 for the outfit, half now, and half later.”

“Und you carry that amount of cash with you?” Petras says incredulously.

“Of course not!” Arnault says, “There is an… it’s called und ‘App’ for banking, I can wire you the money if we follow the process for it.”

“Fine,” Petras says with a grunt, he was also running low on money. While he worked semi-frequently at the Loyalist base as a Chaplain, his hours were odd, as he was not allowed to work certain shifts, likely due to those damned Primaris Marines. He got a small commission from the base.

Another issue he had at that base is he is only earning a pittance of what he should earn as an Honorable Chaplain Captain, because of that damned near snake-like Ultramarine Apothecary Zariel.

Who had trapped him in his office and revealed the fact that the Apothecary had noticed and had video proof of Petras stealing from the medical store rooms, among other easily carriable valuables when ever he passed through the area (and needed some extra stuff to pay for The Excessive Delights).

Not that the Damned Zariel knew about his deal with Zaarius. He was having half of his pay go to the ‘back taxes’ he owes for the theft of supplies. Also- in exchange for agreeing to certain terms and conditions, Zariel is willing to not Report this to higher command.

If Petras didn’t know better, he’d think that the damned Ultramarine Apothecary was actually a fuckign Hydra hiding as a damned Ultramarine. But- he hadn’t

But if he can do this tailoring commission well, perhaps he can get Arnault to buy more perverted clothing gifts for his Bonded. But that would be a later thing. Also- with that kind of cash he can pay for the Excessive Delights.

He hasn’t stolen from the Loyalist Bases nearby since he had more or less been forced to stay near Gannet Point because his beloved Bonded Whore did not want to travel around Ancient Terra.

Arnault flounces off and he heads back to the room and looks over the cloth that he’s got and how much he’ll need for the Commission and sighs to himself. He gets a chime on his phone- the money has gone through and he’s three thousand dollars richer.

Petras heads to the local shops for cloth and ribbon and what not, and notices Zaarius nearby. The Chaos Whore notices him and frowns at him, and heads over to where he is, “Hello Slaneshi Whore.”

“Petras- charming as ever,” Zaarius says mildly sarcastically, “I have noticed that you’ve remained near Gannet Point a lot longer than normal, any reasons why?”

“... I have an Intense Bond,” Petras grunts, “Just snap bonded, tried to leave, and nearly died, my Crusade dragged me back here and I… have been getting to know my Bonded.”

“Oh- congrats on getting Bonded!” Zaarius says blinking rapidly, but giving him a genuine smile at the news, also looking slightly relieved, for some reason.

Petras grunts a little as the Slanneshi whore flounces off to do, whatever the fuck it is he was doing before. He has grown to care for his Bonded Very Much- but if he had a way where he could have his Bonded and Zaarius service his cock.

Hrm. He thinks of cold showers and other displeasing things as he notices that his little sword was perking up at the thoughts that he’d had. Fucking Slanneshi Whore- how dare that Zaarius make him think of such lurid things in public.

Petras buys what he needs and heads back to his home with Beloved Bonded Whore and starts the commission. Carefully measuring, cutting and sewing Since he didn’t have work on The Base, he’s able to get the commission done surprisingly quickly.

He double checks that it’s fully completed and that it’s ready. He wraps it up in some of the left over tissue paper and a brown paper bag that he’d used to drag the cloth from the store into the home.

Petras sends a vox message to Arnault, [The commission is done. Pick it up before my Beloved comes off work. She finishes work and comes home in two hours.]

[I will be over at your place in half an hour.] Is Arnault’s prompt response.

[Excellent.] Petras retorts.

Almost half an hour later he hears a knock on the front door and he opens it and nods to Arnault and hands over the brown paper bag. “It’s done. Have her test fit it- and let me know if adjustments need to be made.”

“Danke bruder,” Arnault says, and taps on his Astarte’s sized device and Petras gets a ping on it- the other half of the payment has gone through. “I’ll let you know if any adjustments are needed after I have her take it for a test run.”

“You’re welcome, bruder.” Petras says. “You came earlier than I thought you would.”

“Why does that bother you?” Arnault asks.

“I have a meeting with someone else soon.” Petras says casually as he waves a hand off, “no one that you know, at least I don’t think that you do.”

“Oh?” Arnault asks, suddenly curious, despite not wanting to be near Petras all that much.

“Ja- some of my Crusade are visiting,” Petras says as he locks the door behind him as he heads off- not quite realizing that Arnault is following after him.

“You hypocrite,” Arnault says.

“Was?” Petras says with a scowl, “do you mean by that?”

“You excommunicated me und Roland for accepting our Bonds!” Arnault flares, “And yet- you are not from your Crusade.”

“There are more reasons as to why you were Excommunicated,” Petras reminds the other, “Those books are another part of it.”

“Roland refused to abandon me or his Bond,” Arnault says hotly, “And -”

He cuts himself off as he sees a pair of Black Templars wander over towards them, one a Scout, another one an Apothecary, but they aren’t Black Templar’s he recognizes.

“Kestorn, Alexried,” Petras says warmly, “How have the two of you been doing?”

“We have been doing well,” Kestorn says, “Who’s this, brother?”

“This is Arnault- yes that one.” Petras says, cutting off Alexried from asking a question.

“Oh,” The younger Space Marine says quietly.

“Alexi has been doing better since he has started talking to his Bonded,” Kestorn says, watching Petras, “Even though his bond isn’t Intense, he’s doing a lot better.”

“... That is good to know.” Petras replies, ignoring the whole that Arnault is staring into the side of his head. “I think you should be careful with the witch-bond Alexried.”

“I have been, sir, “Alexried says with a dutiful bow of his head, “They… don’t seem to be a Chaos Abomination.”

“That is good to know,” Petras says, “Perhaps one day, I could meet them.”

“... Perhaps once they are more settled,” Kestorn interjects.

“Very well,” Petras says with a shrug as he continues to walk with Kestorn and Alexried, Arnault has headed off to go find his beloved Angela and shower her with affection, attention and this wonderfully hand made gift.

Arnault really doesn’t like Petras, he’s a right shitty asshole, but it is nice getting to meet someone else who understands in ways that most do not.

She feels the cum ooze down her front and all she does is button the blouse back up before getting pulled into his lap as he kisses the back of her head.

As he coos his tender affections to her in high gothic as her tongue feels so imperfect for him to tell her how he feels... he will have to rectify her not being able to understand his devotionals but until then he just holds her close.

You smile up at him, you can tell by the tone of his voice, which is subtly warmer and softer, that he's saying nice things about you, or something. You have been trying to learn Gothic- but languages have never been something you were good at learning.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #oc: Petras #oc: Kestorn #oc: Alexried #oc: Arnault

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diagonal-queen · 1 year ago

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The Flags in Highschool

♡ characters: Pianoman, Albatross, Doc, Lippmann, Iceman

♡ synopsis: What type of student would each of the Flags be in highschool?

♡ cw: Swearing, Lippmann is nonbinary cry about it, mentions of vapes

note: I have no idea where this came from. I guess my need for Flags content is taking over my brain lmao (I promise I won't only write Stormbringer content from now on I pinky swear) and I know I have tons of stuff still in my inbox from ages ago that you guys requested. I HAVE seen them and I do plan on writing them. At this point in time I'm just sapped dry of any inspiration, so sometimes I just need to get whatever I can. This time around it was flag shit. I apologise for the wait and I love all of you. Apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

Pianoman (the prep)

Definitely the leader of whatever student council is at the school he attends (unanimous vote)

He is always on top of his shit. He never gets detention, never turns in any late assignments, never gets into any fights

Has extra supplies for people who've forgotten theirs, from spare pens and pencils to spare tampons for the period-havers

Is the kid that your parents compare you to and say 'why can't you be more like him' (if your parents are anything like mine, anyway)

Helps people study and write notes for exams- he has a collaborative doc that nobody ever needs to edit because the notes are always perfect

Is the one that has to show the new kids around because he makes the student body look really good lmao

Hosts every single event, fundraiser, volunteers a lot

Though he looks like he knows what he's doing he definitely doesn't get enough sleep

So he has a very concerning coffee dependence- probably drugs himself up on caffeine to get through exam weeks (please someone tell him to stop)

He might be generally nice and an academic but he also has blackmail on basically anyone who's ever crossed him so...don't get on his bad side I guess

Albatross (the goofball)

The class clown that everybody loves even though he's a little piece of shit

Definitely bounces from clique to clique, cus he's friends with literally everyone lmao. Even the kids who don't even like him are willing to have him around

Is the reason why Pianoman began bringing spare supplies to school (he fully gets by by just borrowing other people's things)

Never wears his uniform correctly, and is always getting in trouble for it with his teachers, but he never changes anything

He skips classes ALL THE TIME and doesn't bother to hide it. If you have a free period and decide to go to the store for something you'll more than likely find him vaping out the front lol

(Sorry yall he just seems like the type of guy who vapes- I do not endorse the use of e-cigarettes. There now you can't sue me)

Spreads insane rumours about himself because he thinks it's funny, and then acts shocked when people ask him about said rumors

Always has food/snacks in class and teachers are far past trying to stop him from eating while in class

He's so good at P.E. it's kinda scary. He can throw, run, swim, kick...everyone wants him on their team

If there was ever a Matilda-style student uprising...we all know who's leading it lmao

Doc (the weird kid)

Okay when I say weird kid I don't mean 'kid who crosses your name off the list when you're nice to him'

I mean 'kid who sniffs glue and knows too much about WW2'

Doc is absolutely the type to get straight As without putting in even a LICK of effort. He just never studies, and he never helps anyone else study either

A bit of a wallflower, but he's by no means a bad guy. He's just kinda offputting at first

A little bit too enthusiastic about the science classes where he gets to dissect small animal corpses (he's really good at it it's frightening)

Brings his own lunch from home

Always in the nurse's office, he keeps other sick students company (he's exempt from P.E.)

He's like reverse gifted kid burnout- when he was younger he was a late bloomer but now he's one of the smartest kids in the grade

Even though people don't spend time with him they don't wanna get on his bad side because they know he's gonna become some world-renowned doctor after school and they don't wanna deal with that karma. Plus he's a little bit creepy

Nobody knows ANYTHING about his home life

Lippmann (the popular/theatre kid)

You might be thinking that 'popular kid' and 'theatre kid' contradict one another but you'd be surprised. Everyone LOVES this guy

The lead in every single school play regardless of what type of character they are (gender and body type mean nothing to him)

Also lowkey kind of a whore. He's probably dated most of his peers and yet they're all still enamoured with him

Probably has a super high follower count on Instagram (why are highschoolers so obsessed with Insta)

Kinda friends with all the teachers and so people call him a teacher's pet/tryhard (i'm TOOOOTALLY not projecting here)

One of the first kids to come out as queer (nonbinary) so he supports other kids and helps them with their own sexuality/identity

Though he mediates when his classmates fight, he secretly LOVES the drama and lowkey wants to be an enabler (but that would ruin his reputation)

Definitely comes from a rich family and probably helps fund the school- gets a lot of awards for nepotism reasons

Has tons of potential with his academics but never utilises it- he's more comfortable not studying and getting 80% than studying and getting 90%

Gets voted most likely to be famous in the yearbook

Iceman (the scary dog)

He's actually really good at school and gets pretty good grades. How does he do this? You'll never know

Always sits in the back of the class, but he's not bothering anyone back there so teachers don't care. In fact they'd probably rather have him back there because even they're kinda scared of him

Also knows a concerning amount about WW2, but it's less the gory gore stuff and more the war-y war stuff

Surprisingly good at humanities subjects. Never try to get into a political argument with him because he has his sources CITED

Though he's really scary and not many people would willingly approach him, he's actually really nice and gentle

Stands up for kids who get bullied and checks in on them sometimes

Scholarship kid

Likes loitering in the library and reads a lot in his spare time (he has tons of overdue library books to return)

If a bird or a bug or something flies into the classroom he's the one who's always designated to pick it up and gently guide it back outside

Always argues with teachers if they say homophobic/sexist/racist things and gets in trouble for it but doesn't care (a king)

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfiction #bsd fanfic #bsd ff #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bsd hcs #bsd headcanons #hcs #headcanons #bsd pianoman #bsd albatross #bsd doc #bsd lippmann #bsd iceman #bsd stormbringer #stormbringer #bsd flags

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twstbookclub · 2 years ago

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How Oblivious Are You?

Summary: Cater helps you figure out your feelings for someone, but you're oblivious and his patience is really running low POV: 2nd POV Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Kai ⚔ Tags: Cater Diamond, Platonic, Crackhead writing, unserious, i didn't take this fic seriously with proper grammar, it's supposed to make you laugh, Cater is my spirit animal, oblivious reader, will this get continued??? Word Count: 993

Cater sat criss-crossed on your bed, and stared blankly at you with his eyebrows raised. He was there for one reason and one reason only: talk to you and see what the gossip around the Heartslabyul dorm was about.

Just minutes before, he sent you a text saying, "I'm on my way." Those words? Didn't mean anything. He was already busting your door down by the time you read it.

"Cater..?" You asked while also staring dead into his eyes. You were nervous as to why he was there.

"So, my eyes and ears have been catching some behavior from someone we know. Do you know something?"

"Huh? Someone we know?"

"Mhm, but that's not what I want to ask. Do you have a crush on anyone, Prefect?" Cater tilted his head, a mischievous smile on his face.

You blushed at his question and thought about it openly.

"Well… I’m not exactly sure if I do…" You looked at Cater for a reaction, only to be met with a frustrated look in his eyes as he squinted.

"And who is this "not exactly sure"??" He tilted his head, anticipating an answer.

"It's complicated-"

"OH MY SEVEN. GIVE ME A NAME."

"DEUCE SPADE!"

You blurted and even surprised yourself. Deuce? Why did you say Deuce if he hadn't shown interest in you? Or did he? Seven, this was new to you too.

Cater was silent, but he stood up from your bed. Tension was so thick that a knife couldn't even compare for a way to cut it.

"Deuce…"

Cater walked around your room, slowly, and it felt suffocating. You couldn't read his thoughts like you usually could.

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"I didn't know!"

"Deuce never showed interest!"

"How could you not know?"

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding with me."

"What? I don't see any indication that he has!"

Cater's jaw dropped. Not in shock, but in utter offense.

"Seven, give me patience…" He sighed and rubbed between his eyes. He blinked a few times to gather his thoughts.

"Okay," Cater started. "There is a reason you said his name, and even if you don't know that reason. I'm gonna tell you straighter than a piece of pencil led."

You listened carefully with a small head nod.

Cater put on a sweet, soft smile. His eyes also smiled as he placed his hands on your shoulders so gently as if you were a glass painting.

You returned his smile, but something in your gut was screaming "RED ALERT, RED ALERT" at 100 miles an hour to run.

Cater's expression turned into a dead-eyed look after, faster than you could process.

"HE HAS LIKED YOU FOR SEVEN KNOWS HOW LONG. HE WALKS YOU TO CLASS. WILL BUY YOU SNACKS FROM THE SHOP. DENIES EVERY OTHER BEING ALIVE. DEUCE. LOVES. YOU. CAN'T YOU SEE IT? HOW ARE YOU SO DENSE? I THOUGHT HE WAS DENSE, BUT HE CLEARLY HAS COMPETITION. YOU BOTH ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER."

Your body was shaken like some kind of life-size doll. Cater was merciless on you with how blunt he was. It felt like a major whiplash. Still, he wasn't done.

"YOU BOTH HAVE BEEN FLIRTING. THE BEHAVIOR I HAVE WITNESSED WAS FROM HIM, AND HE WANTS TO ASK YOU OUT, BUT THE GUY DOESN'T KNOW HOW. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?"

He finally lets you go, but not without helping you get back on your feet. You felt dizzy and your insides felt like they'd been turned into a milkshake.

It was a bit scary to see Cater in such a way, but you couldn't leave him hanging either.

"I mean, I don't know! This is new, and my brain feels like mush after being shaken like a snowglobe!"

"Alright! Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Oh! I'm sorry! Please allow me to ease your pain and get rid of your woes with a pain relieving spell!" His sarcasm made you groan and try to think.

"Tell me what you think about Deuce," Cater suggested while pulling out his phone, opening a notes app.

"Well…"

"Well? It's just you and me in this room. Let it all out."

"Okay, okay. No more stalling."

You took a breath and let your emotions speak.

"I don't mind that Deuce is the only one who puts his attention on me. I don't mind that he buys only me snacks, but I did find it weird how he always rejected everyone else, yet would always accept my request."

Cater listened and wrote down your points, but then stopped halfway, letting you continue.

"He's nice, and sweet. Caring, funny, a bit of a troublemaker, but that's not a problem at all… I did question at one point why my heart would race whenever he was close to me, or why I would feel jealous if he suddenly got pulled away from my side. I just always thought this was normal, but I still don't know what it is."

You let out a sigh of relief as you felt a heavy weight was being lifted off your shoulders after revealing your emotions. You looked at Cater to see his reaction…

Only to be met with a Cater giving you a look that says, "There is no way you didn't know."

"What?"

"You like Deuce, dude."

"Is that what that is?"

"WHAT? YOU STILL—OH MY SEVEN."

Cater turned you around and pushed you out of the door, making your body face the Heartslabyul dorms.

"Go. March onward to the past delinquent, and ask him out. Just go 'Deuce, go out with me' and all is solved. Go on." His voice mimicked your own as he pushed you, closing the door.

"And don't come back until you ask him, I'll be watching you…"

He said the last part with an ominous tone and you quickly walked off to Heartslabyul, and going off to quickly find Deuce.

Well. Here goes nothing.

#cater x reader #cater diamond x reader #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #cater diamond #deuce spade #twst deuce #twst cater #heartslabyul x reader #platonic #crack fic #twst crack #oblivious mc

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lisamillern1fan · 2 days ago

Text

i started writing an intro post but i went to switch my music and it disappeared lol..

anyway, intro post! i realized i never really made one so here it is. the long awaited (probably), extremely delayed, intro post! this is gonna be very barebones and probably really short. click more for full post cuz i dont want this taking up the space of four separate posts 💔

interests

my main interests are highlighted in pink! personal stuff at bottom of post.

this blog will mostly be for me to look back on when i inevitably forget about tumblr and find this account 10 years later while going into a 3am deep dive on myself, so why not document my current interests and such?

i really really love scott pilgrim. its been a year. it will not go away. i also love parappa the rapper, um jammer lammy, homestuck, and heavenly, the 90s twee pop band that made punk girl then kinda just dipped.

i heavily kin lisa miller from scott pilgrim. i am her NUMBER ONE fan, hence the blog name. i also kin many other characterss.. <:3 (rammy ujl, rose hs, knives sp, pj ptr)

i am also interested in audio, records, cds, and music as a whole. im heavily fixated on the band heavenly, tyler the creator, goreshit, the scott pilgrim soundtracks, marine research, talulah gosh, and mickey avalon. my favorite albums/eps/singles/whatevers are the decline and fall of heavenly, space manatee, tomboyish love for soda pop and apple sweets, my love feels all wrong, le jardin de heavenly, atta girl, yeezus, goblin, graduation, sounds from the gulf stream and igor.

i am also an artist! i have been drawing since ive first picked up a pencil. i am mostly self taught!

i also like astro bot, cookie run, pikmin, plumtree, and playstation consoles as a whole, specifically the 5 and 2. MY FAVORITE SHIP EVER IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IS KIMLISA PLS MENTION ME ON KIMLISA POSTS I BEEGEGGGGG OF U

i also like reading!

my favorite books are scott pilgrim (1-6), lost at sea, seconds, dog man, cat kid comic club, dork diaries, captain underpants, and just general fanfiction 💔 boring ikr

anywho, this seems to be getting pretty long, so ill just get my personal stuff out of the way while i am at it.

**STRICTLY** fem pronouns please! i do not care if you use they, just please use she whenever possible! i go by ari, lisa, paula if your close, or pj, but you are free to call me whatever you please. i am also extremely unstable at times so i may spam post occasionally. please do not pay mind to it.

socials, fun facts and extras

i have diagnosed misophonia, and i most likely have adhd- although i have not been diagnosed. also, keep in mind when i talk to people i am very blunt, so please do not take my words to heart. i do not mean anything i say critically.

my asks and whatever are always open and i am a chronic yapper! feel free to ask for socials. my most used socials are listed below-

discord - scottpilgrimliker2.0

tiktok/every other social i have- lisamillern1fan

also, CANNOT stress this ENOUGH - i am a MINOR - do NOT try to be weird with me PLEASE. you will be BUHHLOCKEEDD.

anywho! you will probably find out more about me as i post. this post is also bound to lose accuracy as time goes on, but i might as well write something to get a general idea of me out there i suppose <:3

this is formatted kinda weirdly, apologies for that. i will eventually write another one of these when the time comes.

anywho, that is all! love u friends! take care.

#introduction

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floralcyanide · 3 years ago

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hii can you please do a scenario/fic with austin! elvis or actual elvis where you're sitting in his lap doing his eyeliner? it can be fluff, smut, whatever but i will literally worship the ground you walk on and gift you my firstborn 🥰✨

Jet Black - Austin Butler!Elvis NSFW Blurb

>> hello anon! thanks for the request B) this will be my first time writing for Austin Butler!Elvis so I’m excited!! the whole eyeliner idea is just,,, I’m weak at the knees rn. anyway,, without further ado!! (reader is gender-neutral, also reader is shorter than Elvis obviously because he’s v tall) also I'm sorry this is kinda short!!

pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis x reader

warnings: light smut, nsfw, 18+ only please, (minors dni!!), lap sitting, the works.

word count: 1172

send me requests in my ask box please!!

Elvis stared intensely into his reflection in the mirror while trying his best to hype himself up. He was standing in the main area of the motel room with every light on after struggling to apply his notable eyeliner with the bathroom’s dim lighting. He had decided that the lighting was why he had such a hard time with his reasonably simple look. Luckily, there was still quite some time before the performance, so Elvis was focused on getting the look right. Meanwhile, you were sitting on the chair, flicking through a magazine and glancing up at your boyfriend now and then. After a few moments of silence, your attention was caught by a low growl as Elvis frustratedly rubbed away the messy liner for the umpteenth time. Sighing, you stood up and walked over to where he stood in his eye-catching pink pants and black shirt.

“Honey, do you need help with this?” you smiled sweetly at him, softly taking the eyeliner pencil from his fingers before he could protest.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with this damned eyeliner,” he mumbled, facing away from the mirror in defeat.

“Maybe it’s not the eyeliner,” you said, drawing a straight black line across the top of your hand with the pencil, “Maybe you’re just nervous.”

“Nervous?” Elvis scoffed, turning back to the mirror and running his hands over his hair.

You rolled your eyes. It was just like him to act like nothing was wrong, but you saw right through it like always. This was his first performance after That’s Alright Mama hit the radio stations, so it was a big deal for him. It was normal for him to be nervous, but your boyfriend was truly anything but normal.

“I’ll be right back,” you kissed his cheek, giving him the eyeliner to hold while you head to the bathroom.

Rummaging through your makeup bag, you found your makeup remover and some cotton balls before walking back to the living room. As you approached Elvis, he had once again tried and failed his eyeliner.

“Babe, let me try?” you suggested, pushing some hair out of his face before he got more aggravated.

“Alright, darlin’,” he said defeatedly.

You took some makeup remover and applied it to the cotton ball, softly running it over Elvis’ eyelids to take off the awfully smudged eyeliner, “There. Now we have a clean slate.”

Taking the pencil from him once again, you started to apply the eyeliner, except you couldn’t get close enough because he was so much taller than you. You frowned, standing on your tip-toes, still trying to reach his eyes. Elvis even leaned down with a chuckle to try and help you.

“You know what, how about you sit down, and I try to do it that way,” you motioned to where you were previously sitting.

Elvis did as told, walking over to the chair and taking a seat as he waited for you to walk over to him. He didn’t expect what you did next, however. You stood before him and pressed your knee into the cushion next to his thigh. Balancing your hands on Elvis’ shoulders, you did the same with your other knee on the other side of his lap. You then sat on his thighs with no problem, leaning in close to his face to begin the eyeliner.

Elvis cleared his throat as a nervous laugh bubbled up his chest, “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

His legs were spread slightly, so you had to put your center weight on his pelvis, much to his enjoyment. The pink skirt you were wearing to match his outfit was pooled around you perfectly. Unfortunately, Elvis could only relish in the sight for a moment before you made him close his eyes. He tried his hardest not to move his eyelids as you carefully slid the pencil across the delicate skin. The feeling of you pressing all of your weight on him, the softness of your movements, and the warmth of your hand on his jaw to hold his face still was very overwhelming. He needed to move a little. Elvis was never one to hold completely still. He moves his hips slightly, not completely thinking about how it’d feel with you in his lap.

Your careful eyeliner precision ceased for a moment when your boyfriend’s clothed crotch made contact with yours briefly. Your eyes widened a little at the feeling, and Elvis opened his eyes when he realized you had stopped applying the makeup.

“Everything okay, darlin’?” he asked quietly, his lips in close proximity to yours.

Your gaze never left his, “Yeah, everything is fine,” you exhaled, repositioning yourself a little, once again causing some friction.

Elvis shut his eyes instantly as his hands flew to your hips to still your movements. The feeling of his fingers pressing into your sides caused warmth to spread across your body. Feeling bold, you put all of your weight onto his bulge, leaning forward to finish the eyeliner while pressing yourself into him. Elvis dug his fingers deeper into your skirt-covered flesh as the urge to buck his hips became stronger as each second passed. Despite the physical position you were in with your boyfriend, you had the determination to finish the eyeliner. But you wanted to tease him a little more while you did so.

You moved your hips into a circular motion very slowly, biting your lip as you gauged Elvis’ reaction underneath you. His hips begin moving in the same fashion, matching your movements.

“I’m almost done, baby,” you say nonchalantly, biting back a moan as you focused on finishing the smudging of the liner around his eyes, “Can you open your eyes?”

Elvis opens his eyes, his pupils blown and lids heavy as he stares at you. The black makeup around his eyes adds intensity to his stare. You timidly wipe a finger underneath his eyes to finish the look, your other hand still holding his jaw.

“Finished,” you said, not moving away from his face.

Moving his hands from your hips to your face, Elvis pulls you closer as his lips meet yours feverishly. Both of you were still swiveling your hips at a slow pace, and now that you didn't have to worry about poking his eye out, you moved more freely. He took the opportunity to bite at your bottom lip as you gasped at the feeling of his growing bulge pressing into your core. The two of you were rudely interrupted when the clock began striking, signaling that the two of you needed to get ready to leave for the gig.

You reluctantly pulled away from the kiss but kept your face close to Elvis’.

“Time to go,” you frowned, “But at least your eyeliner looks good.”

He hummed in agreement as he slowly lifted you off of his lap, “Thanks to you, baby,” He kisses you once more before walking over to the mirror to readjust himself for what would be his first great performance.

#elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #elvis presley #elvis movie #austin!elvis #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #elvis blurb #fanfic #elvis fanfic #austin butler blurb #floralcyanide writes

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lunatic-flores · 3 years ago

Text

𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔.

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 : (𝘠/𝘕) has inability to talk to the elders since Alma put her too much pressure since she was little, and that almost break the relationship of her and her mother.

→ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 : 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊.

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

A new day, a new expressive poem that has slipped under Julieta's door. She had no idea who has been give her this beautiful words, either it's long or short. She needs to remember her husband that she is sure that she don't have a single admirer.

“Another one?” Agustin asks while searching his glasses and then glance at his wife, Julieta can only chuckled and nodded her head as she take the crumbled paper with a tiny bow on the upper left.

“they're really good at hiding themselves.” Julieta respond while reading the lovely fresh poem that's just for her and her only.

---

Your love was like moonlight

turning harsh things to beauty,

so that little wry souls

reflecting each other obliquely

as in cracked mirrors ... beheld in your luminous spirit

their own reflection,

transfigured as in a shining stream,

and loved you for what they are not.

You are less an image in my mind

than a luster

I see you in gleams

pale as star-light on a gray wall

evanescent as the reflection of a white swan

shimmering in broken water.

---

“Well, at least this one is very lovely.” Julieta laughs as her husband gave her a kiss on the cheek and then the two of them started to do their chores as usual. Julieta's day seem to be brighter and more brighter after an accident happened to her.

“what is going on here?”

“Tía! We uh— ... We might have accidently dropped some of your glass bowls .. Anduh- yeah, that's all hehe.” Camilo tried to explain - not wanting to get a heavy punishment, but his prima, his quite prima is also part of the accident.

Her eyes moved to the broken bowls and then she spot her very first bowl that she used to try her gift. Camilo and (Y/N) could see that the dissapoiment and Sadness are fillong the older woman's eyes.

For some reasons, They couldn't talk. And it's very overwhelming.

“Let's just— help me clean these things, please.” Camilo swear that he saw his prima is sweating nervously as heck. Her face is quickly turned very pale making him worried, “Uh ... Mi Prima? Are you—”

“Todo está bien.” with that, she immediately left to grab a broom and clean the mess, not letting Camilo help her either. After cleaning the mess, the two of them apologized to older woman “We are so sorry, Tía Julieta. We promise that we will not break anything ever again.”

(Y/N) nod her head furiously as she tried to avert her gaze to somewhere else. Not brave enough to let out a single word to her mother while fidgeting her fingers nervously.

“It's alright, you two can go now.” with that, (Y/N) immediately run out of the kitchen leaving Camilo behind.

At first, Julieta thought that the person is her own daughter who never spoke to anyone since she was twelve. She's not very talkative. She won't talk unless it's necessary like a conversation about the family.

But it's no use since she never saw a single paper or pencil that she had to use if she wanted to write anything in her daughter's room.

Is it Mirabel?

“Huh? What poem? I haven't write anything yet for the exciting day!”

Then, is it Isabela?

“I am so sorry mamá, but i'm really busy that i don't have a chance to write a letter even it's for you. Maybe it's Luisa, since she haven't gave you something new?”

Luisa—

“Mamá. I don't even have a pencil and a paper.”

Julieta sighs in defeat. The writing style is unfamiliar to her, that's what make it more difficult. Why don't she just ask the children to write and check their writing style? —

“Oh wait, i think that would work. If the person is not from this family, then it really is from someone else - i think Agustin will be the one who search them up for me.”

✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁

“Oh oh! Are we going to write a letter to each other?” Antonio asks his aunt excitedly as he grab his pencil, “Hm, yes - of course we will! Since we have a free time, why don't we spend it together?”

Julieta had to dragged brought the adults to join her too, she just wants to see their writing style too. Not only the children. “how about a poem?” Dolores question making Julieta's attention immediately moved to her.

“Of course, you can write a poem too!”

As she finished, her gaze kept wandering to one by one. But none of them showing any suspicions to her. This is very difficult. But little did she know, one of her dear daughter is now sweating. Her hands are wet. Her heart beat so fast making Dolores glance at (Y/N).

Before she could asks her prima, (Y/N) shot up while breath in then out and showed her stoic face as if nothing happened to her. And then she just started writing leaving Dolores drowned in confusion.

‘What just happened to her?’

Right now, (Y/N) is debating with herself in her mind. What is she going to write? A poem like she used to write for her mother? But she's afraid of getting caught. She never apologized properly, and she wants to take baby steps.

‘I am screwed.’

(Y/N) decided to change her writing style, and surprisingly, it goes well. And it's quite different from the style she used to. Slowly, a small smile crept on her face ashe began to write a short letter.

Letting her hands dancing with the pencil on the paper, slowly but surely. It is very expressive words. After everyone is done, Julieta still can't find the mysterious person. It is decided.

The person is from the village. Not her family. But who in the world loved her platonically? Is it the orphanage children? No, she don't think so.

She sighs in defeat, making her daughters look at her worriedly. “Hey, do any of you have any idea what makes mom look confused right now?” Isabela asks her sisters quitely, making sure that the others doesn't hear them. Luisa began to think and then shake her head “Nope, but she looks fine for these past few days to me.” she reponds.

“Huh, then what about you Mirabel?” Isabela turn to her youngest sister, “I don't know, but all i know that mom has gotten one or two poems everyday in the morning for these past few weeks.” The youngest answered while glancing at her mother.

“A poem? ... So that's why she wants us to write anything so she can match the writing style, huh?” Isabela mutters and then searching for her another sister. Unfortunately, (Y/N) stood up and then left the living room first.

“Uh ... Why is she so quite and hurry?” Luisa asks that notices her sister's curiousity, “Mamá said she's not very talkative, but i l've once read her letters that is sooo expressive and it's very touching!” Mirabel yelled-whispers excitedly. “it's like — She's the silent words, y'know?”

And that clicked the three of them, “Hey, don't you think that the person who gave mom poems every morning is ... Her?” Dolores, the cousin who heard their conversation decides to joined them.

“What poem?” Isabela jumped at her sudden presence and then sighs, “Dios mio, Dolores. Don't scare me like that again!” “Oops, Lo siento.”

Mirabel explained everything to her prima and then letting her think for a moment, “Sometimes, i do hear someone is writing. But i am not sure who is it since they keep changing their place to write.” Isabela widen her eyes.

“(Y/N)!”

She exclaimed loudly making the other's attetion turned to her, also making Dolores closed her ears “Oh uh— ... Sorry.”

“Wait, so it's really (Y/N)?” Mirabel asks in more quite tone, “Are you sure about that? Because ... You know, she don't have any pencil and papers.” Luisa add in, “Unless she buy some.” Dolores fold her arms.

“Yes, and i'm sure it's really her.” Before she continue, (Y/N) quickly ran inside the living room again and take her bag. “Oh (Y/N)! We were just about to—”

Luisa is cut off when (Y/N) immediately left the room again, but the thing is, she accidently drop a single paper from her bag. Making Isabela quickly take it with her vines, “Oh look, she drop this.”

Dolores let out a quiet “hm!” in response. “Is that a ... Poem?” Mirabel take the paper from her hermana and then they read it together.

---

Call out, Call loud : “I'm not ready, and don't come find me!”

The sacks in the toolshed smell like the trash seaside.

They’ll never find you in this blackhole salty dark,

You’ve never heard them sound so silent hushed before.

Don’t breathe. Don’t move. Stay dumb. Hide in your blindness.

---

"It's like— she's hiding? There are some typos too.”

"What are you guys reading?” Camilo asks suddenly making them jumped and Isabela surprise him with her flowers.

“We are having girls talk, now shoo shoo.” Camilo rolled his eyes and then walk away in flamboyant, “i think we need to go to somewhere more quite.” Luisa recommended and then the four of them started to leave the living room as they excused themselves.

“Or ... Should we find (Y/N) instead?” “No, i don't think so. She'll freak out and teleport to somewhere we don't know.” Isabela read the paper once again and then they finally arrive at the quite place.

At least not too noisy for dear Dolores.

“Right, i almost forgot her gift is teleportation.” Mirabel mumbles, “but the poem says ‘I'm ready and come find me.’ i think she wants us to find her and talk to her?”

“Hm, but why don't she?” Dolores asks as she tilt her head to the side.

“It's because i'm not good at taking the conversation.” someone suddenly answered making the four of them look at the person. There, stood a young girl who is shaking, and quite messy. Maybe she's not using her gift and keep running for her life.

“H-Hola.” she muttered.

“(Y/N)! So it's really you!” Mirabel quickly throw herself to her hermana and let (Y/N) catch her without second thought. (Y/N) yelped and then hold her sister carefully, “I— ... Y-yes, i'm the one who ... Write those p-poems. I couldn't apologize properly to ... Mamá.” She rub her arms nervously after letting Mirabel go.

“So that's why the letters are so expressive because the person is having an inability to talk to the elders, huh?” Isabela add in.

“That's— ... You're right, Isabela.” (Y/N) sighs in defeat as she sat with the girls and take out her paper and pencil from her bag.

“Why don't you just talk to her, ya know, heart-to-heart?” Luisa asks curiously as she pat (Y/N)'s back, trying to ease her down.

“I can't, Luisa. It's hard, very hard. But i ... I tried my b-best, you know? I Uh— ... i just couldn't say it that easy.” Mirabel began to think in anticipate and then an idea came immediately, “You know what? You need to leave some hints here and there.”

“How—”

“Leave your name, letter by letter. And let mom collect it until your name is completed!” (Y/N) widen her eyes and then began to shake again, “W-what if she ... want to talk with me? I- i ... I couldn't—"

“Just take your time. Mamá will understand you, hermana.” Isabela hold her sister's hand and Dolores nod her head in agreement. “Just remember that she is not like abuela just because she's her daughter.” Dolores rub her back in circles.

Right.

Julieta is not like Alma.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. (Y/N) smiled at her hermanas and prima as she nod her head, without a second, the girls give her a big hug making her let out a pure laugh.

✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁

“Oh? I think they're leaving some hints.” Julieta read the poem again while stacking the poems and put it all together. ;

---

Once upon a memory

Someone wiped away a tear

Held me close and loved me,

The values you've have taught,

the care you've have given,

and the wonderful love you've shown,

Have enriched my life

in more ways than I can count.

I owe you an eternal paradise.

— Your dearest, (n).

---

Julieta was touched by the words. There's no possibility that this person loved her in romantic way, they adore her in sweetest platonic way.

She noticed that each poems had single letter in the end. That clicked her brain, she quickly put the letters all together and a name was completly written. “(Y/N)..?”

She remembered the accident day and since then her daughter began to feel more anxious and quite. She wipe her hands after making arepas and quickly left the kitchen in order to find her quite daughter.

“Ay, (Y/N).” she muttered worriedly.

Dolores who heard the whole muttering decide to inform her primas, “She's going to find (Y/N).” the girls stare at (Y/N), “w-what?”

“Prepare yourself, hermana.” Isabela pat her head even though she's quite taller than her. “Oh no, i don't think i can talk properly to her.” Mirabel smack her arm playfully, “Come on, don't be so pessimist! You'll be fine.”

“We'll be waiting for you when you're done.” Luisa chuckled at her sister's nervousness. It remembered her the day where she's feeling weak.

“I— uh— ... BUT—” (Y/N) was immediately cut off by her youngest sister.

“Casita.” Mirabel spoke in sudden before (Y/N) tries to escape by herself.

The floor started to move just to send (Y/N) out from the nursery, (Y/N)'s eyes shift to her mother's presence who is now searching for her. “Dios—... Dios, dios, dios—” she kept muttering and ran to find a hiding spot.

Instead of searching a safe place, she accidently bumped into her Tía Pepa who has a dark stormy cloud above her head, and later, she got strucked by one of her lighting that completely making her jolts in pain.

“i— i'm .. totally fine— ... ” her face immediately fall on the flat floor.

“JULIETA!!!” Pepa screamed in purest panic, making all the members of the family ran to her and only found (Y/N) laying on the floor.

“Oh.” Mirabel blurted out of nowhere making Isabela facepalmed at her, Luisa rub the back of her head bashfully as Dolores sighs in defeat.

✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁

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kunimikat · 4 years ago

Text

How they act after you break up with them.

(I made sure to check but there might be small grammar errors, and this is a long one so strap in 🙇, but hope you enjoy angst+fluff here) but not me actually feeling bad for them after-

Is more out of it then usual.

The reason you broke up with him is because you felt like it wasn’t a real relationship. And more like you sometimes got to talk during class, and sometimes out of school.

He writes in his a separate notebook of ways he could’ve done better

Starts comparing himself to other guys more often

Leaves earlier then everyone else to got to dorms.

Mumbles even more then usual, and sometimes the only person that can snap him out of it is Aizawa.

Sometimes takes it out on his friends

“Hey Deku!-“

“Not right now Uraraka.”

“Oi, Deku nerd, the-“

“Can you not right now Kacchan?”

“HAAH?-“

“Midoryia! Would you like to study?”

“Maybe later Iida...”

Todoroki offered him soba but it resulted in Midoriya slowly slurping up soba as he looked into the void of people

He shut everyone one out and didn’t talk barely most of the week.

He’d take out a lot of his anger during training.

It somehow finally clicks into place how bad you feel and how much you miss him when All Might pull you aside and asks. “Uhhh...Is Young Midoriya ok? I’m getting real worried....ITS NOT LIKE I DONT WORRY ABOUT MY OTHER STUDENTS HAHAHA! HOW’S-

There’s 15 minutes of your life awkwardly telling All Might how all your classmates are doing.

Which made you want to jump off the top of UA at the moment.

You decide to head to his dorm and ask him about it, cause you feel like it’s your fault.

You walk in on him crying, clutching the shirt you bought for him on his birthday.

You almost dropped to your knees in guilt at the sight

You rushed over and sat by him, comforting him, though it wasn’t much as you started crying too.

Basically a crying festival for an hour.

“Please....Please Y/N I love you so much, I promise I’ll make it work, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you, just please...PLEASE don’t leave me.” You kiss him on the lips and then his hand, “Babe it’s not all on you, I promise I’ll do better this time too, I’m so sorry for being selfish, I love you, ok?” Another crying fest.

After you start dating again:

Always makes sure you’re comfortable, and checks into your dorm before he starts a study session.

Helps you with your work before his. ( Though you insist he doesn’t as he’s gotten points off multiple times for turning in his work late.)

Goes on dates every time you have some free space in your schedules. Somehow ends up in an All Might merch shop 80% of the time.

!!CUDDLE SESSIONS AFTER HERO TRAINING AT ALL TIMES!! Even in Recovery Girl’s office, though many times she bops you both on the head and tells you to get out.

(If you both like All Might) You both geek out over new All Might stuff, and his old interviews while wearing an All Might onesies.

(If you like a different hero) You could spend hours bickering on who’s best hero, pulling up recordings and articles on the. With you holding your favorite hero plushie and him wearing All Might pajamas.

And waking up early just to take a long route to school together.

Makes sure to say ‘I love you’ at every small moment, and compliments you, though he can’t take compliments himself-

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“I...I understand, but why?”

Tears well up in his eyes and he for once he keeps eye contact with you, without looking away

It takes everything in you to not breakdown

“I’m sorry Izuku, I just don’t think it’ll work out in the end.” He grabs your hand and holds it both of his. He puts it to his forehead, nearly on his knees at this point. You try not to cry with him, but you knew it wasn’t going to end up a happily ever after in the end. And you wanted to break it off before that could happen.

“Izuku, I know, I know, I’m so sorry, I wish it couldn’t end like this-“

“Then don’t let it. Please Y/N don’t let this end.”

You eyes welled up as you put a hand over your mouth while repeating ‘I’m sorry, so sorry Izuku’. You looked away from him as you slipped your hand out of his, you close your eyes painfully, the tears finally running down your face. You couldn’t help but look back one more time, and almost wanted to run to where he was and take it all back. He sat on his knees, his head in his hands as painful sobs wracked his body. You quickly leave the room, shutting the door behind you.

You both were pretty quiet and emotionless the whole week.

Midoriya was even worse then before,

It got to the point where sometimes he didn’t eat or sleep

He barely responded to anything anyone said

Hell, even Bakugo was worried at some point

Midoriya would always go back to his dorm and cuddle with the gifts you gave him while you were dating.

It took a long time for him to get over it, and even when he thought it did, he still gets emotional over it

Even after highschool it pains him to see your off doing your own thing without you at his side the whole time

Quieter then usual

Is so deep in thought, sometimes forgets he’s in class or what he’s doing

During tests, or while working on assignments he’d be so deep in thought he didn’t realize he broke his pencil, or used his quirk on his desk

Instead of having his usual outburst on people he’d just walk off, or click his tounge and walk off

Even during Hero Lessons he’d be less calculated, and not as pumped up

When anyone tried to ask he’d just say “Fuck off, I’m fine.”

His grades slightly dropped

He had bags under his eyes, and had even worse posture then usual

When it came time to leave, he’d be the first one out, and no one could find out where he’d go

A permanent frown was on his face at all times (basically him most of time but with a deeper frown)

No one knew what to do at this point

It didn’t click with you until one day during Hero Lessons

He was sparring with Kirishima and all of a sudden he fainted

Everyone was surprised to say the most

You rushed with Kirishima to Recover Girls office

You both almost busted the door off it’s hinges

She wacked you both on the head but quickly tended to Bakugo, surprising you both as she checked on him

“Oh....I wouldn’t have expected this from Bakugo.” You and Kirishima had confused looks on your faces. “Well he passed out from exhaustion, which I usually see with that foolish Midoriya boy. This one usually keeps up with himself, something must’ve happened.” She cut herself off as she saw the look on your face that said it all. She beckons Kirishima to follow her out, as he still wasn’t getting what was happening.

You finally got a good look at him, and saw just how exhausted he looked. The bags under his eyes, his bruised body, and how pained he looked in his sleep. You hugged the non-bruised part of his arm, and finally let the tears you held let go. “I’m sorry Katsuki...I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” Before you realized he woke up, he placed his free hand on your head, rubbing small and soothing circles on your head. “S’okay, let’s make this work.” You knew you didn’t have to say anything else as you both stayed like that until Recovery Girl came in to kick you both out.

After you start dating again:

Comes to your dorm everyday to get you up knowing you’d oversleep if he didn’t (also wants to see your sleeping face...not in a weird way)

Cooks you breakfast in bed on off days,

You guys cook something together when you have a movie night

Instead of yelling most times, he just makes sure he understands your side of everything before jumping to conclusions

Makes sure he isn’t too rough with you verbally (lol not sure physically)

Brings you to his parents house during some free time since you get along with his mom and dad well

Won’t admit it but adores the fact that his parents love you

Whispers ‘I love you’ when he’s made sure your ‘sleeping’ (you’re not, you just wanna hear him say it all shy like)

You guys go on training dates, where you both train together, then have a picnic where you just trained

Him being more open with PDA, like holding your hand, or laying his head on your shoulder, etc. just small stuff

He loves playing with your hair and twisting it around his fingers while cuddling or studying

You both cheer on your favorite hero during a fight on TV, or you pick a random channel on TV and you just listen to him rant how stupid something is while you lean onto his shoulder at 2am (somehow got him to stay up this late)

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“No...no...you can’t, you can’t be serious”

He sounded so broken. His fists clutched so hard you thought his bones would pop out

Anger was evident in his face, and he honestly scared you with the face he was making

“Y/N....are you joking?” You frown and step back a little, did he really think everything you said was a joke? “No Bakugo, I just think this isnt gonna work out in the end.” You heard him click his tongue, then just look at you in shock, then anger. He looked down, his bangs covering his expression. “So you’re just gonna end it like that? No working anything out, just break up? It was one fucking mistake Y/N.”

“Yeah one big mistake, you don’t suck faces with some other person on accident, Bakugo.” The venom in your voice slicing through the tension filled air. “Can you just fucking forgive me? I won’t do it again.”

“You said that last time, Katsuki, then you go and clown off again-“

Before you could get anything else out Bakugo already had his quirk going in one hand, and the other holding your shoulder down. You both looked surprised, even as he backed away. “No..nononono fuck Y/N baby I’m sorry-” you smacked the hand that reached out for you. You started packing everything, Bakugo’s eyes widened as he just stood in shock. Before he knew it you were leaving already.

“N...NO NO Y/N PLEASE, I’M SORRY-“ he grabbed you by the arm that reached for the door knob. You quickly shrugged him out of his grasp, and opened the door. “Goodbye Bakugo, I hope well for the next person with you.” And you slammed it in his face. He stood there, it’s like the emotions he felt before were completely wiped when you slammed the door on him. It was 8:03pm, he should start getting ready for bed anyway.

For a few weeks he was unresponsive, and only talked when he needed to

His movements were sluggish and he’d often stare at nothing

Bakugo didn’t even glare, or really do anything when Midoriya tried talking him

Or shittyhair, dunce face, raccoon eyes, or soy sauce face

They were all the same, and just molded into one voice every time someone tried talking to him

After a while he got over it, but he still regrets what he did

You helped him through so much yet he went off and did stupid shit

Even after highschool, he’d still keep up on you frequently through social media

Basically stalking you on there, guessing he never truly got over it once he felt tears subconsciously stream down his face as he saw you with someone else, happier.

He felt like he didn’t do anything wrong, and he was confused at the throb in his heart every time you looked away from him or ignored him.

So he did ask you, and all you did was look at him like he just hit you.

Why did you look so hurt?

Todoroki shrugged it off, thinking you’d come back like you did after every fight you guys had

But you didn’t, and that’s what took an actual toll on him

More emotional

A permanent frown on his pretty features most of the time

All he mostly eats is soba

He didn’t know how to handle this in all honesty

Sometimes he’d just stare at you, and even when you looked back he’d just stare...

Sometimes he’s so out of it he doesn’t realize he’s either froze the entire classroom or was a living breathing radiator, or both (rip Momo, Satou, and Tokoyami)

He’d ask Midoryia for help but it came out as a fumbled mess most of the time:

“Midoryia...how do you hurt....them, a lot...without...? Can you help?

Midoryia is just like:

(Sorry I had to add that in I was cackling sm from it)

“I think you should just talk to them Todoroki.”

That was harder to do then he expected, you mangaged to avoid him pretty well,

One day he was just fed up and as soon as the bell rang he took your hand and left the class

He takes you to an empty classroom, his left side nearly giving you frostbite

You were about to yell at him before you saw his broken expression

“What...what did I do for it to be like this?” You we’re now quiet as you saw the confused and hurt expression on his face. Him barely being able to control either of his quirks, he was shaking, yet still held a confused expression. It just clicked with you, Todoroki wasn’t used to the sudden emotions or feelings, and when one of the people he’d usually go to to talk about it wasn’t there, he started to crumble.

You hugged him tightly , not caring if his quirks messed up your uniform. “I’m sorry Y/N....I’m sorry I’m not enough, but-“ You cover his mouth as tears fell from your eyes and onto the ground or his uniform. “I- I-I’m so sorry Todo...it’s just you never gave me affection and I was being so selfish and petty about it, I just- I didn’t realize that you went through your own experience for it to turn out like this. It’s not your fault, and I love you the way you are Shoto.” Todoroki didn’t even notice the tears come down his face as you kissed him over and over again. A small ‘I’m sorry’ from you every time. His quirks calmed down and now you were holding each other in a random classroom. You’re heart nearly stopped as you looked up at him and saw a small, teary eyed smile.

After you start Dating again:

Todoroki was much more observant

He’d stay up late readings articles saying “How to understand emotions” or “Is there other good food then Cold Soba” wait-

Regularly gets you gifts, even though most of the time you make him return the stuff since he’s been getting so much with his dads card

Endeavor ended up yelling at you both in a 7/11 while you were stuffing your faces with a soba flavored chips

You both figured out a way to get Todoroki to express himself without words

He’d slightly activate his left side if he wanted any sort of attention, and his right side was if he was feeling stressed or upset

He subconsciously goes to your dorm now to check up on you to make sure you’ve had a glass of water, dinner or anything really (He just wanted a reason to go to your dorm)

You played with his hair once, and he’s never going back

When cuddling he’d lay his head in the crook of your neck, hoping to feel you playing with his hair

You push him to start taking therapy sessions to understand what emotions he’s feeling and how to express them

Takes you in your free time to an empty field just to hear you talk, and learn more about you

And he’d always wake up early and made sure to get a few snacks for you before you woke up and brought them to your dorm room (Last time he tried to cook he almost burned the kitchen down)

Overall Todoroki just loves giving you small head pats now, you don’t know where it came from but you didn’t complain

Poor bby stuttered so hard the first time he said ‘I love you’ you giggled

Ended up making him feel embarrassed and like he did something wrong, but you quickly kissed him/praised him

He can’t stop saying it now, one time you picked up his pencil, before you could hand it to him just a sudden “I love you Y/N” the entire class looked at you both in shock

“STOP SUCKING FACES OVER THERE!”

“SHUT UP BAKUGO”

“HAAAH?”

Todoroki is the happiest he’s been.

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“Over? What do you mean we’re over?”

You felt so horrible by the the pure confusion on his face

But the rude things he said to you, over powering your want to get back with him

Lately Todoroki has been more protective, and rude. Insulting everything you do, belittling you slightly. It just added up and you were tired of it

Todoroki tilted his head to the side, deep in thought.

“Y/N your being on the dumber side again, are you hanging out with them too much?” You were taken aback by how nonchalantly he insulted you and your friends. “Excuse me? Todoroki did I hear you right?” You stepped foward leaning your head toward him. “Of course you can, or did Bakugo’s yelling make you not hear so well?” The fact he said it with no emotion, or nothing to it was making you clench your fist. “The hell has gotten into you Todoroki?” You shove his shoulder a bit. He frowned at you heavily making you flinch. “Well if you didn’t go and ignore me most of this week maybe I wouldn’t be like this. I usually hold my tongue but you’ve been rude this entire week.”

You stood there speechless. “Well Ex-fucking-cuse me Shoto. Maybe if you didn’t insult me all the damn time I wouldn’t ignore you, or wait for an decent apology.”

You drag out the last words as you glared at him, Todoroki giving one back. “I’m only telling the truth so you don’t look dumb. I’m helping you out Y/N, I thought you’d understand.” You scoff in utter shock, you couldn’t help the sudden urge to slap some sense into him. Now he stood speechless, the force in that slap causing his hair to look messy, and a red mark on his cheek. Tears were in your eyes as you clenched your fist, biting your lip from cussing him out on the spot. “Your lucky I don’t beat your sorry ass, just...just the the fuck out Todoroki!” You pushed him toward the door. He looked at you with no emotion in his face as he saw you start to bawl your eyes out. “Just...just get the hell out Todoroki, it’s over, we’re over.” He felt a pang in his heart, but choose to ignore it and just left.

It only actually came to him during the night as he was about to walk to your dorm after a nightmare, when he realized the entire conversation

He tried knocking on your door but you didn’t answer, even though he could hear your music

He went back to his dorm, sat on his bed and just had a full mental breakdown

Realizing his main emotional support that helped him through mostly everything was gone

He felt he said stuff his father said to you already which made it even worse

He tried texting and calling you but you had him blocked on everything

He repeated the entire conversation in his head, just now coming to how disgusting he really did sound

Todoroki for that whole week was an emotional wreck

During hero training if he was thinking about you or what he did he doesn’t notice poor Satou trying to get out of his wall of Ice.

Is always with Midoryia at some given time,

He kind of clinged onto people in his circle that gave him attention of some sort

When he some time passed he eventually got over it

After Highschool you both kept in touch, but it pained him when he saw you engaged and happy with another person

But he was happy if you were happy.

Heyyy so this is probably the longest thing I’ve written since like my last Wattpad fanfics I used to do(yikes). But hope you enjoy, and don’t be afraid to request! I’m taking them now so go wild.

Sorry that they were all confusing it’s my first hcs+scenario thingy, but I have a few other things in the works so... 💃🕺

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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago

Text

happy birthday

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

request by @phoenixhalliwell: Hi maria 👋 how are you? I was wondering if I could put a request in please for prompt number 8? The one with the it's not much but I bought you this ( I cant mind the exact wording 🙈) Bucky mentions something that reminds him of his past that makes him happy and like nostalgic and then the reader goes out of their way to find it for him so that he doesn't feel so out of place in the future? Thank you 😊💛

prompt: “I got you this. It’s not much, bu—”

word count: 928 words.

warnings/tags: none.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list NEW!!! here.

You found out about Bucky's birthday by casualty. It was the first after earning his freedom and you felt like he didn't want to celebrate it. Maybe that was the reason why he didn't mention anything. But even so, you wanted to give him a gift. You weren't sure about what it could be and you have the most brilliant idea of your life. Asking Steve. Nobody knew him better than his long-life friend, his brother. Although at first, the Captain tried to persuade you, he ended up thinking that maybe could be something good for Bucky. A birthday gift could be an appropriate way to come back to reality, step by step.

Steve told you about his hobbies, about what he used to do in the forties. He gave you more ideas than you expected, but there was a concrete one that called your attention from the very first moment it popped out. You toured New York's avenues, taking advantage that Bucky had to assist to therapy, a medical examination, and to work out. That would have him occupied for the rest of the day, while you bought all the necessary and prepared it at home, for when he came back.

You sighed alleviated, falling on the sofa. Satisfied with the black cardboard box in front of your eyes, over the coffee table. You managed to collect everything inside and put a bow made with a gift ribbon on top of it. You were exhausted after walking down the streets from one side to another, carrying the small bags. You also forgot to eat something during the day, but only by the thought of having to stand up (...), you preferred to stay there.

BUCKY'S POV

The soldier closed the door slowly behind his back, resting against it for a brief instant. Usually, the medical examinations left him weary. The doctor took blood and urine tests. Checked his lungs and brain with an x-ray. Then, one hour of resistance and strength —mostly by running and heavy lifting. It felt like a train ran over him. All he wanted was to be cuddled and comforted, but when he stepped into the living room and watched you sleep on the sofa, he couldn't blame you for feeling like him.

Bucky was about to hold you onto his arms and take you to your huge shared bed until his gaze fell over a black box with a handwritten note by its side. “This is not a birthday present”. A tender smile curved up his mouth, having a seat close to your abdomen to open it. His fingers raised the lid in slow motion, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as your boyfriend placed the cover on the table. When he was ready, he rolled up his eyelids to glance to the inside. A knot appeared inside his throat. His heart skipped.

Bucky tilted his torso towards you, leaning down to wrap your waist with his strong and firm arms. The heat emanating from his heavy body along with the delicate kisses being spread on your forehead, bridge of your nose, and lips, woke you up. Blinking sleepy, touring his back with your hands, you let out a sight. “I got you something. It’s not much, bu—”.

“It's perfect”. Bucky interrupted you, burying his face into the gap between your neck and your right shoulder. “Is the best non-birthday gift ever”.

You couldn't help but chuckle and yawn at the same time, palming softly the back of his head to urge him to sit up. And so you did, holding the box to place it over your lap.

“I just… supposed you didn't have the energy to… celebrate it. But I wanted to give you something”. You mumbled, rubbing your eyes for an instant. “Steve told me a lot of things you liked to do in the past, but… I, uh… thought that maybe drawing again could also help you with your nightmares”.

Bucky took off every item from the box, having a déjà vu, remembering the old days where he used to spend the day creating art. The good days he had forgotten until you brought them back. It wasn't only the gift. It was the intention. It was the love you put on it. The help you were offering again to fight against the bad dreams that were still chasing him today.

You bought him special notebooks for drawing, pencils, colors… Anything you found to make him a good kit. Inside his oceanic blue eyes, you could glimpse that Bucky was about to cry, not knowing how to thank you enough for the second chance you gave him, for the careless and the patient, for the small details marking the difference, for just being by his side at any moment. He felt like he was coming back to life.

Your boyfriend clung his arms to your body unexpectedly, embracing you as much tighter as he could without hurting you. Bucky won the lottery the first time you smiled at him. He knew karma was rewarding him for all the pain he had been through. And you were the lucky of his life. A life he'd give for you without hesitating.

“I love you, (Y/N). Y'know it, right?” As he spoke, his voice wrecked, reaching your lips to pepper them fondly. “More than anything I had ever loved, more than anything I could love one day”.

“I know, Buck”. You whispered with a soft smirk decorating your mouth. “I'll always love you, I'll always take care of you”.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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phykios · 4 years ago

Text

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

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

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

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

Percy might hate college.

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

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

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

“How bad is it?”

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

“Ouch.”

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

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds good.”

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

Percy slams the computer shut.

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass.

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

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

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

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

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

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

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.”

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

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

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

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

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

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

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

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

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

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t forget--”

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

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

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

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

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?”

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

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

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

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

By morning, he has a response.

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

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

“Hey mom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

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

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

“Thanks, mom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

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

“It does.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

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

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

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

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

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

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

It’s… not what he expected.

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

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

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

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

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

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

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

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

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

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

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

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

“You did.”

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

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

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

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

“Gross.”

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

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

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

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

“The what?”

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

“That doesn’t help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

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

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

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

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

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

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

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

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

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

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

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

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

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

“Seriously?”

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

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

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

“You’re so weird.”

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

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

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

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

“Shh!” Nico hisses.

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

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

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

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nico’s eyes widen.

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

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

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

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

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

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

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

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

“Annabeth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods. “Very interesting.”

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else?

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says.

“Who are you working with?”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks.

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

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

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His mouth goes dry. “Um…”

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

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

Annabeth, behind him, coughs.

“S-sure. No problem.”

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

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

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

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

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

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

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

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

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far.

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

Well, most of them, anyway.

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

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

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

“And how big were these models?”

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

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

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

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

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

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

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

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

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

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

“At my… summer camp…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

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

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

The baby says nothing.

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

Junie blinks at him.

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

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

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He might be in over his head a little.

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stops.

He squints at one of his doodles.

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

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

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

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

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

No response.

Percy approaches the table.

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

Percy picks up the book, squinting.

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

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

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

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares.

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

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

And he closes his computer.

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

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

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

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

***

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

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

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

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

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

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

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

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

He starts. “What did you say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Annabeth takes her without a second glance.

Then she does take a second glance.

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

Annabeth gapes.

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

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

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

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

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

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

“No, why do you ask?”

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

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

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

“Can do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peas,” Junie says.

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

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

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

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

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

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

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

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

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly.

“Everything okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That gets his attention.

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

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

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

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

“Then let’s make it happen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Psst.”

Jamie looks up.

There’s a four year old staring at her.

“Hi,” Jamie says.

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

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

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

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.”

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

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

Junie beams at her.

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

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

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.”

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

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

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

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

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

She really should have just stuck with German instead.

#my fic #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #perseannabeth #darkmagyk #percy should be a classics major and here's why #the percy major for the stem hating author #also i feel like i have to say:#1) classics conferences are not like that #2) if only it were that easy to get the bm to return looted antiquities 🙄#pjo fic #percabeth fic #percy jackson

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