#nonverbal go crazy

[reapercollective]

What if I pull up to the function... get a lil stoney,... and then go nonverbal and play tetris on my phone while I let yOUUU, PERSON. talk about whatever special interest / drama you have to offer while nodding so you know i'm listening ... wdym that's not fun :( ? -Cameron/Bf

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

You need to learn to communicate (a toxic TomTord comic)

Content warnings: depiction of SA, self harm, suggestive content, blood, needles (minor)

[rewritingcanon]

You’re so brave for saying scorpius wouldn’t listen to taylor lol, but what kind of music do you think he listens to?

hehe ty anon, i know you probably want me to name other artists but deadass? mystical chinese folk music. its so full of whimsy idk. scorp plays it trying to go to sleep. he puts it on as study music. when he needs to calm himself he whips out his playlist or imagines it playing in his head. either that or tchaikovsky (artist drop 🤯) because he grew up in an elitist rich household so he probs loves his ballets or learned how to play him on piano or harp or some bs.

[dwtdog]

i hate that despite dream’s expression of empathy to caiti, pointing out the disingenuity of how one supports victims, and his own apology to her — what twitter got from that is his take on consent (which isn’t even wrong imo! because anyone who actually does IRL things would agree) and spun it into something else

but that’s nothing new. no matter how eloquent or how well intended dream’s words are, they WILL get twisted

it's so frustrating and stupid and its doubly so because some of the people doing it are the ones who have SEEN how people will take his words maliciously and now that they've had a change of heart they're just. going back on everything

and yeah, what he said is objectively correct and its so crazy to me that people are taking issue with it ???

[theloveinc]

Bakugo. 😲☝🏻stimming.😌👍🏻

[sweaters-and-vertigo]

i’ve been in the wars today

[starzwithapen]

mmmmm throwing cute cliva fic at u and scampering away https://archiveofourown.org/works/53410642

SCREAMJNG CRHING THROWING UP THANK YOU SO MUCH ?????? AUTISTIC CLAY AND VIVA CLIVA QPR AGAHSBXBXB?????? this hit all of my brain neurons perfectly im OBSESSED THANMYOU THANK YOUU!!!!! HEART EMOJIS

[mysicklove]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!

DAY 18: DRY ORGASM

With: Yuuta Okkotsu

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Sub! Yuuta, gn! reader, multiple orgasm, sorta mentions of cnc? idk, "breeder balls" are used in a silly goofy way, pregnancy mentioned, yuuta cums a total of six times, unrealistic portrayal of dry orgasms.

A/N: i almost named this fic breeder balls just to mess with all you guys. kinktober is driving me crazy

“It will be fun. C’mon, just trust me!” You tease, pressing kisses along Yuuta’s neck while he sighs. You sit behind him, hands resting on his stomach while you continue to pepper kisses along his neck. One of his weaker points. 

He lets out a shaky breath and then whines gently. “I don’t know…I-It sounds kinda scary.”

“Aw, scary? C’mon, my big, strong, sorcerer boyfriend isn’t afraid of anything,” You quip, teeth grazing his pale skin when you smile into his back.

 Your hands begin to roam up and down his body, and he gulps but doesn’t stop you. He does let out a noise of complaint about your choice of words though. “Yknow that isn’t true,” He mumbles out, pouting slightly. 

You pinch his nipples, and he lets out a high-pitched squeal before turning to you with a half-hearted glare. “Sorry, they are too cute.”

He sighs, slumping against your chest and closing his eyes. “You're the worst.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that. You love me.”

He glances at you before rolling his eyes and nodding softly. Yeah, he did, even with all your teasing.

“Yuutaaaaa,” You purr, getting back to the main point. “Let’s do it.”

He hums, nodding for you to continue to try to convince him. He was still unsure and slightly nervous at the thought.

“You will look so cute. Haven’t you always wanted to cum like a girl? To have every ounce of cum milked out of you,” You bite his ear, earning a whole body shiver from the boy. “Forced out of you. Till you’re shooting blanks.”

That immmediately perks him up, and he cranes his head backward to look up at you with a sheepish grin. He already feels himself growing hard. 

“F-Forced?”

You grin.

“No more! No more! Please!” He screeches, tears and drool coating his face and falling onto the sheets below him. He was heaving, and he feels like every inch of his body was covered in cum. His thighs and stomach were so sticky, and he was unbelievably sweaty.

Shaky legs try to crawl forward, away from your tortuous hands, but he ultimately fails. You use one arm to grab him by the waist and pull him back. “Where do you think you are going?”

He lets out a pathetic “Noooo!” as his fingers drag along the sheets back toward you. His thighs shake as he tries to hold his body up, and he buries his face into a pillow. 

You hum to yourself, sitting cross-legged and fully clothed, contrasting your lover’s naked body. His knees straddle your legs, giving you a perfect sight of his ass and easier access to pull him back whenever he tries to crawl away.

His thighs, stomach, balls, and even your hand were coated with his cum, and is beginning to dry up from how long its been. But nevertheless, your hands continue to work at his cock, pulling it slightly downward so that it hangs between his open legs. 

Yuuta lets out a choking noise, a mix between a gargle and a yelp, and suddenly he is cumming again. He doesn’t say anything as his orgasm comes crashing upon him again, but you weren’t surprised – he went borderline nonverbal after the third one. 

His chest rises and falls with his rapid breathing, and you watch his whole body tense up. His tears stain the pillow, and his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. The only thing that showed that he was in pleasure was the way his nails dug into the sheets as if he wanted to tear them apart from how intense the sensation was.

You frown through it all, and watch two globs of cum slide down your finger. His legs give out, and he begins to slump on the bed, but you are quick to grab him and hold his waist up with your arm. “Am I–Did I? Are we d-done?” He stutters, his voice raw from his previous screams and cries. You hear him sniffle and watch the way a shaky arm rubs at his nose.

You lightly slap his thigh. “Nope. Almost there, Yuuta! The next one will definitely be dry. Think I got the last couple of drops,” You say, pointing to his cum staining your hand. 

He looks up at you with wide, fearful eyes and starts squirming in your hold. “No! I can’t go anymore. A-And you said that the last couple of times!” He screeches, legs kicking out like a toddler throwing a tantrum, trying desperately to run away from your hold.

Your hands remain on his waist, and you move your body aside so that he doesn’t accidentally kick you with his frantic, panicked movements. His dick was raw at this point, and every muscle was trembling. He couldn’t go again – he was exhausted, completely pushed to his limits.

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax. This time I'm really sure! How many times have you ejaculated?” 

He pauses for a moment, gulping as he thinks back to the previous events. “I think after that…Five times?”

You giggle at him, and the sound makes him tense up. Whenever he is put in these positions, and you laugh, it never is a good sign for him. “Woah, Yuuta, you really have a lot of cum stored up. I’ve heard that most men go dry after their third one…Don’t tell me your pent up?” You babble, passing time to hopefully let his body rest for a moment. Overstimulating him would probably kill the dark-haired boy. 

He sniffles again, and then furrows his eyes and turns back toward you. “Im not, though. Came two days ago, remember?”

You think back to the night and chuckle fondly. “Yeah, I guess your right. Guess my lovely boyfriend just has breeder balls.” You laugh at yourself from the ridiculous word.

His mouth hangs open at your crude words, and he turns a bright shade of pink. Immediately, he tries to scramble out of your hold again, but you just laugh at his flustered noises. “Why would you say something like that? So embarrassing…And no, I don’t,” Your boyfriend complains, shaking his head back and forth to execute his point.

You hum to yourself, content that he has finally calmed down again, at least enough to put up and actively respond to your teasing words. 

“Bet you could get any girl pregnant,” You continue to coax, mind drifting off from your words to return to your original motive. You begin to situate yourself again, hands moving back to the task at hand. 

“Stop it, please! It’s so,” He groans into the pillow, unaware that you have begun to stand up. “I don’t know! Just sto–” Suddenly, his head is being forced into the pillow, and your hand is back onto his cock. Your movements are rough and fast, and his whole body seems to short-circuit.

Yuutas eyes widen as he feels the back of your hand pin his head into the pillow, and he feels your hands wrap around his dick again. He doesn’t even have time to react, except for a surprised yelp. By the time his brain catches up to the sensation, you have already palmed him four times now, and he is so sensitive. “W-Wait!” He begs, tears resurfacing. 

The sound of your hand wrapping around his red cock is lewd. Loud squelching sounds fill the room, and he knows that the wetness is from his previous cum. It makes your head spin, and Yuuta wants to die from embarrassment. 

Your hand finally lets go of his neck, and he pulls away immediately, gasping out for air. His back arches, and he begins his clawing at the bedsheets again. “F-Fuck,” Your lover whimpers, tears free streaming again. 

His cock feels raw by now. Five orgasms in a row was an insane amount to him. The farthest he had gone before this was three, before he was forced to call it quits, or else risking him passing out. Right now, his mind seemed to be melting from the harsh feeling. 

You have to support his body still by hoisting his hips upward. His forehead touches the sheets, and his bangs cover his face as he looks downward. It was almost disappointing that you couldn’t see his pretty expressions, but from what you could see by his sporadic movements, Yuuta was crumbling. 

It hurt. Your hands were too rough. The pace was too intense. He can’t think anymore. His mouth hangs open, and his tongue threatens to loll out. All he can hear is your hands and his cum, and honestly, although he hates to admit it, it was spurring him closer to his orgasm.

Just one more. He can do that. He can cum one more time. Everything in him pleads for it to be dry, because he may seriously die if he has to go a seventh round. 

So, with everything in him, he begins to grind into your hand, trying to coax his orgasm to come quicker. He lets out a silent scream, and he furrows his eyes shut but doesn’t stop fucking back into your hand. 

You watch with amusement at the trembling boy’s movements. He was trying his best, and it was honestly quite cute. Just for him, you pick up the pace of your hand movements. 

The reaction to it is immediate – the muscular body curls over on itself as he heaves. You bring him closer to you, now using both hands to jack him off, hoping he doesn’t collapse just for a couple more seconds.

Yuuta’s eyes roll back, and he can faintly hear your encouragements. “C’mon, love. Just one more. Cum for me one more time.” 

He bites onto the pillow and nods his head, unable to give you a reply. He can feel his orgasm approaching, and frankly, it scared him. It was going to be a strong one, he could tell, and he was unsure if his body was able to take it. He was already shaking at this point, could his muscles really constrict one more time? He could barely hold himself up.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because his orgasm hits him out of the blue. For the first time since his second orgasm, Yuuta screams into the pillow. His thighs come squeezing together, and his fingers dig into anything they can grab. Tears continue to rush down his face, and he tries his best to breathe.

His knees come forward, and accidentally, he raises his hips higher into the air, creating a pretty arch in his back. You watch, mesmerized by the show, and then glance at his cock.

Not a single drop of cum is let out. You grin, and rub his thighs, coaxing him through it all, proud of him.

He slumps against the bed and this time you let him. Then, he very slowly turns to you, eyes cloudy. “I–I?” He tries, brain not catching up with him.

“Yep, good job. Came dry. I’m so proud of you.”

He gives you a lazy, but satisfied grin, nodding slightly. You crawl over to him, sitting down next to his head. He places his near-limp hand on your knee, and you hold onto it. “Guess…Guess I–No breeder balls for me,” He mumbles in full seriousness, as if he is proud of the fact.

You have to cover your mouth to refrain from laughing too loud. You place your head over his eyes, shutting them for him. “Guess not. Sleep, Yuuta.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He falls asleep not even a minute later. You don’t blame him.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[diorcities]

running your teeth over jeno's sensitive tip and watching him roll his eyes makes you feel haughty. knowing you've got him at your complete mercy, a mess of grunts and involuntary spasms as your tongue curls and tease with the slit of his cock, savoring his salty precum on your palate while his heavy, dark gaze is fixed on you. teary eyes as a plaintive moan leaves his lips when you slide his penis deeper into your warm mouth, and your tongue presses against his shaft. it feels so full you have to close your eyes, drool at the corner of my mouth that you slurp when you take it out to pepper wet kisses up and down his length, “nice job, doll.”

numb legs and body in a sedative state as haechan eats you in front of the mirror. he wants to make you see how hauntingly breathtaking you look with your teary-doe eyes and haunted features every time he makes you feel this good. lips nibbling and sucking on your folds before his tongue attacks the swollen area of your clit. teasing it around and exerting pressure that causes your body to react in a spasm and scream. humming against your cunt and making a stream of pleasure run through you as he fiddles with the entrance, “eyes in the mirror, honey. you don't want to miss a bit.” fingers enter the scene when he pushes them inside your needy pussy.

hearing chenle's cocky laugh when you go nonverbal. mouth letting out breathy sounds and choked moans as he hits your sweet spot over and over again. pelvis hammering you into you, rocking his dick in and out with hard thrusts. beads of sweat forming on his chest pale from the effort he's been making for the last hour, prolonging the moment to nut and fucking you mercilessly, head in subspace by how good he's riling you, the painful knot of your belly growing and loosening every time you cum and squirt all over his cock. “fuuck, that's so hot, angel.”

messy make out with jisung as he buries his cock in your abused pussy. steady pace driving you crazy and clawing at the taut skin of his shoulder blades. choking out a hiss in your throat while he pounds you with mighty thrusts on the countertop of a nightclub bathroom after you grind on him and his growing bulge from the way you were dancing. “fuck, baby, fuck, i'm cuming.” ruined and wrinkled clothes, underwear thrown to the side because he needs you and your tight pussy. so eager and excited his pants are halfway down and your lipstick is now all smudged over his mouth.

stripping you of sleep by jaemin's cock sliding inside you in the middle of the night. arms holding you close to his chest as he inserts himself into you with smooth, fluid strokes. arching closer to him to go deeper, eyes rolling back and mouth spilling hoarse grunts when he speeds up. chest pressed hard against the mattress as he holds on to the headboard and his thrusts become wilder, mind in pure bliss. “does it feel good? fuck it does.” turned into a rag doll, forced down as he fucks you dumb, feeling the sedative and numb effect run through your entire body.

riding mark on the dining table. hands gripping the table in front of you hearing him sound so affected as you bob over his dick. squelching sounds coming from the motion followed by your moans and pants from getting tired. hands quickly going to assist you and pronouncing the thrusts more. harder and frenetic. whines and sobs forming in your throat because it's too much to handle, his movements becoming more eager and desperate, groping your waist as he let out a guttural growl, “you're doing so great, baby. keep up.”

dry humping with renjun, feeling his bulge grow as you rock your clothed pussy over him. the hardness of his erection pressing against your wet folds, soaking his underwear with your arousal, hands going down his length to run your nails up and down, making him moan loudly. “need to fuck you, yn, please.” thrusting his hips at you when he gets needy to put his dick inside your warm walls. both releasing a pleasurable exhale as he guides his tip inside with ease, digits going to your clit as you shove it completely in and start to ride him.

[stardustlixie]

Okay hear me out...

Ot8 cuddling with the reader for the first time they have their head on his chest and his heart starts going crazy cause he's so nervous and he gets all shy and embarrassed ears getting all red 🤭🤭

Ugh I go crazyyy for shy skz

Okay that's all for now :))

~cookiecreates🍪

omg okay. super fluffy scenario. shy skz will actually decay my brain someday I adore them.

I'm gonna do this is a sort of hcs format so if that's not what you wanted, sorry!

chan

• shy baby. this man is a shy baby through and through.

• chan will always be someone to cherish his significant other and he will take everything seriously, every little milestone

• so early on in your relationship, you're at his place for the first time, you both hang out and watch a movie, he's no stranger to touch but you bet he's gonna be super surprised when your hands suddenly wrap around his frame and your head comes to rest on his chest

• the effect would be immediate, poor baby's heartbeat would quicken and all coherent thoughts will leave his brain

• you know how chan's blush starts from his ears before it can reach his face? yeah his ears will be suuuuper red. it's like he's frozen in time, you can see him gulping and you can't stop the laugh that escapes you.

• your giggles are what finally snaps him out of his daze "channie what's wrong?"

• "wha- oh. no. nothing." his arms wrap around your frame and their is a stupid dorky grin on his face the entire time. he does not pay even a second's attention to the movie, too busy memorizing how your cuddles feel to notice the screen. the boy is smitten.

lino

• you know he isn't a very expressive individual at first and it takes him time to open up, he's not the one to be super touchy either so you're very doubtful whether or not you should initiate anything.

• you see him getting jittery offstage after a concert, he must have been overwhelmed, you're new to this, to him, but he's your boyfriend nonetheless and the concern you're feeling isn't making this any easier.

• you drag him away from the staff and crowd and take him back to his hotel room before the rest of the boys, by the time you get him there you know for a fact that he's having a panic attack, he sinks into his bed and it doesn't matter if the most you've touched him is a few hugs to greet him, you wrap your arms around the boy's frame and pull him close.

• if it's two minutes or twenty you don't know, but you separate the moment you're sure he's calmed down, not wanting to make him uncomfortable

• "if you're fine i'll leave, sorry if i kinda over stepped your boundaries there."

• you're very surprised when he just opens up his arms, inviting you to lay down with him, and you smile at his nonverbal invitation before joining him.

• if the shy smile on his face didn't tell you better, then you'd think he's having another panic attack with the way his heartbeat is rising, you can feel it with your head on his chest. none of you says much, but words aren't really needed.

changbin

• one look at this man will tell any sane person that he is the best cuddle giver EVER, changbin is very affectionate, he is touchy. that's how he expresses his love

• but you're not really a very open person, it took him so long to actually get to the point of dating you so he's afraid he might do something wrong or make you uncomfortable if he rushed into his way of expressing adoration, so he mostly just settles for words of affirmation and don't get him wrong, he loves the small smiles and the words he gets in return, but he's craves physical affection nonetheless.

• but one evening he's sprawled out on the couch after a shower, and the power of a curly haired, bare faced binnie isn't unknown to anyone and boy is he surprised when he suddenly has his partner laying on him like he's a body pillow.

• changbin.exe has stopped working.

• his arms come up to hold you in place and you rest your face on his shoulder. "hey binnie", "hey baby" he chuckles, you can hear the surprise and the nervousness in his voice so you just dig your face into the croom of his neck and make yourself comfortable.

• felix has to hear him rant about this for weeks after.

hyunjin

• hyunjin isn't the type to date someone unless he's really invested, but he also isn't the type to do something in a rush. but the boy is very much touch starved.

• it's a painting date at your place, do the paintings you makes for each other go well? yes. but do you also end up smearing paint on each other for the sake of it? also yes. it's almost like a toddler playfight.

• you adore the boy, but he sucks at initiation, so it's you who initiates the kiss that turns into a make out session afterwards, that ends up with you straddling him, but instead of getting off when you separate, you just choose to lie down half on him and half on the bed.

• safe to say the boy is surprised, because it takes him a whole minute to process before his arms come up to hold you. his face is sooo red.

• "hey love. you're blushing a concerning amount." he just whines out a 'shut up' and makes himself comfortable, he never quite gets over the flustered state.

han

• hannie is not a man of patience, he is also not someone with a lot of time. that means you've been dating him for a month and you've been closer to fucking than you've been to spending actual quality time with him.

• which leads to this, you came here to find him working on his song, he gives you a quick greeting but you're not taking that, he's startled when he feels you taking his headphones off and giving him a pointed stare. "han jisung." "hey baby..."

• a minute later you have him beside you on his bed, a movie playing on the laptop he was previously working on. he whines about needing to finish the song but you just tell him to push you off if he dares. he doesn't.

• your head is on his shoulder and if you didn't know any better you'd think his anxiety was the reason his heart was beating so fast.

felix

• sweet sweet baby that he is, he's probably the one who initiated the affection, early on too. but considering your sort of closed off personality, poor baby was sooo hesitant when he did. you weren't very touchy, definitely not as much as him and he didn't want to ruin anything.

• so he was very careful with how he pulled you close to himself, face red the whole time. he was very close to losing himself in an abyss of overthinking when he heard you chuckle, "you're adorable."

• and when you wrapped your arms back around him was the moment you signed up for a lifetime of koala felix. good luck ever getting him off of you now.

seungmin

• he isn't very affectionate. we know. he expresses love with bickering and insults more than he does by normal means. so no surprise that personality trait is apparent when you're trying to solve a puzzle with him.

• "oh lord you're a fucking idiot!" he says when he finds you trying to make something funny out of a few of the thousand pieces of the puzzle. "you're dating said idiot though?" "you being my idiot does not negate the fact that you are an idiot" "whatever loverboy, admit you have a soft spot for me!" "nuh uh."

• maybe it's the way his curls fall over his eyes, or the way his glasses sit at the bridge of his nose, or the involuntary expression of concentration, but something prompts you to push him back on the couch and take a seat beside him, arms coming up around his waist to hold him in place.

• for the first time in his life, seungmin does not have something snarky to say, which surprises you enough to check up on him and find him blushing profusely as he stares at the floor, small smile playing on his lips. "you're real quiet now loverboy." "baby.."

• "huh, wasn't i a fucking idiot just now?" you giggle as you boop his nose, his hands coming up to wrap around your shoulders. "you're baby. for now."

innie

• you weren't even dating when it first happened, you were having a sleepover with the boys and you woke up shivering, in half sleepy wits you decided to snuggle into innie's side while he was asleep.

• he woke up before you, and was in awe when he found the home you'd made beside him, your face completely relaxed, quite comfy with your head on his chest apparently, half of your body was on top of him, so even if he wanted to, he couldn't move without waking you up.

• he just lay there smiling to himself until some of the boys woke up. you were later given photo proof of your sleepy actions by a very amused felix.

• and that's what prompted jeongin to confess.

[lukolabrainrot]

Toronto and Ireland (Part 2)- Ireland Stops

The Ireland stops were absolutely magic and my favorite of the tour! They were the stops that confirmed to me that this relationship between L/N wasn't just work besties who had a lot of sexual chemistry. This was a relationship with a lot of depth and intimacy, and would (probably) be very serious. I am going to talk about the specific parts during Ireland that led me to this conclusion, because there were just too many things that happened in Dublin/Galway to go over everything (but feel free to send me an Ask if you want me to talk about something in particular during Ireland that I don't cover here). I'm going to say a few of my general thoughts/comments about the Ireland stops first:

I believe that L/N went directly to Ireland from Toronto (please correct me if I am wrong?), and that energy from Toronto spilled over and peaked in Ireland, which resulted in heightened emotions in Ireland. I think their emotions were also heightened because the tour was coming to an end, and it was like a homecoming for N.

I think PART of the reason we saw the type of behavior and body language from L in Ireland is because L knew how meaningful these particular stops were for N, and he was just kind of in awe/inspired/mesmerized by how people were responding to them (but particularly to her).

L/N basically interacted the whole time like they were a FREAKING COUPLE 😅 Like it was BLATANTLY OBVIOUS from their nonverbal cues and how they were talking (imo). I don't think they ACTUALLY were , but it was just VERY interesting considering the energy from Toronto (if that makes sense)🤔

Alright, I am now going to analyze particular parts from the Ireland stops (going to go chronologically):

The Freaking Head Rub (Dublin):

Posting 2 TTs because this was by far the most WTF moment for me on the tour (I have like 6 edits of this clip saved on TT 😂) So let's dive into this gem:

I'm going to start by saying this. THIS 👏 WAS 👏 THE 👏 MOST 👏 OBVIOUS 👏 SLIPUP 👏 ON 👏 THE 👏 TOUR 👏 They got caught. Period. It was obvious this type of intimate behavior is normal for them.

Now the act itself could be written off as just a kind gesture. But below is why it blew up:

1) It was CRAZY intimate. L leaned in (like she does this all the time), he closed his eyes, she gingerly rubbed his forehead (I still don't exactly know what she was getting out of his face--hair, lent, she just wanted to touch her man him, idk? 🙃), the man made a little MOANNN/PURRRR in the middle of the head rub, and then N gently carressed his cheek to signal that he looked good now (again, like she DOES THIS ALL THE TIME). 2) Then the interviewer made an impromptu "Oh" right after he made the soft moan because she was taken aback and was like WTF IS HAPPENING. She tried to correct and make a little joke about the carriage scene (which coincidentally is what they were talking about in that moment) to try and ease the awkwardness of the situation, but the interviewer was totally unprepared for that little moment. 3) L made a little side-eye look at the interviewer after she went "Oh" because he realized he got lost in the moment and how intimate it was, and was like OH S**T. 4) N BLUSHES and shyly laughs (our PR queen who is VERY aware that the public analyzes everything she does) 5) L/N try to laugh it off and say that N does things like THIS to people all the time (but you could tell they were both embarrassed/flustered, especially L, BECAUSE THEY GOT CAUGHT/SLIPPED UP) 6) And they did all of that RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of one of the interview questions 🙄

L/N tried to come up with a lame-o excuse when they were asked about it during the London premiere, but you could tell that they really had no good explanation, because it just kind of happened and they got caught on camera. The intimacy of this moment goes wayyy beyond work besties, and I think they knew that, and there was obviously no way they were going to go there with that interviewer on the London red carpet (but they also couldn't deny it happened because it's on camera, so L got a little defensive and N came up with that silly response about getting lent off people, which wasn't even what was happening in that moment 🙄🙄).

I have NEVER seen anything quite like this before in the middle of a daytime interview of this nature, and the moment still makes me go WHATTTT JUST HAPPENED. It is THE moment that I decided 100% that L/N's relationship wasn't just friendship. That moment served as a very tiny, candid glimpse of how they are in private, and that's how I knew. Simple as that. "Work besties"... sure Jan 😂

Why they let that level of intimacy slip on camera, we will never know. I feel strongly that it probably had a lot to do with N's guard being wayyy down due to the heightened feelings I previously mentioned, and just that they were HAPPY. I definitely don't think they wanted that on camera though, but I think it speaks VOLUMES N did this publicly. N does have a tendency to be very touchy with people, and she had picked/wiped things off of L before on the tour. But NOTHING like this though. N was sending a message (just my opinion though).

Dublin Red Carpet Event/Screening

Side note before I get to my thoughts. This was my FAVORITE outfit of theirs on the tour🔥❤️ They reminded me of a couple in a Tim Burton movie (ex: Johnny Depp and Winona Rider in Edward Scissorhands). It was just sublime *chef's kiss*

I just loved this red carpet event!! EVERYTHING about it:

The way all the fans were looking so lovingly at how LUKE and NICOLA were interacting with each other

The way L was constantly looking for N when they weren't together (and every time he looked at her (particularly when she wasn't aware) he was just GLOWING AT HER 😍)

The way they checked each other out when they finally came together 🔥

How L kept checking in with N and was so in tune with her because he knew how emotionally overwhelming and meaningful this was for her

How he decided to wear only Irish designers for the Irish stops to honor her (that might not have actually been his choice, but it was really sweet he mentioned it regardless)

How happy he was that this outfit was N's favorite of his on the tour. L cares sooo much about what she thinks about him, no one can tell me otherwise 😍😭

The way you could tell L got upset when that interviewer during the Dublin screening said that comment about N being so "brave" (in relation to her body), and how in awe he was with N's effing amazing response

This red carpet event/screening reaffirmed to me just how much L admires/loves/adores/respects N. Like there is real emotional depth behind his eyes when he looks at her, like she is the moon, the sun, and the stars. Like he just looks and interacts with her like she's his person, his 🦞️ (for the Friends' fans in the group lol). Obviously, some of what we saw during this red carpet event was probably due to the heightened emotions of everything that I mentioned at the beginning of this post. However, L/N were so in tune with each other and just glowing during this event (it was palpable), and it made my heart so happy 😍

Galway/L Meeting N's Family

Galway was just something else. Let's talk first a little bit about some things leading up to Galway:

N and L brought up multiple times in Dublin about how excited they were for L to meet her family (particularly her mom who N is really close to). And this excitement seemed VERY genuine based on their body language and how they were talking about it.

N brought up a few times about how excited her mom was to meet L (I talk a little about that/her mom's thoughts on L in my post here).

I think it was just very telling by how they were talking about this introduction that it was a BIG deal for both of them (and everyone involved). Whyyyy... well because (I believe) they are going to be seeing a LOT more of Luke Newton in the future 😉

So this is how I came to this conclusion. First, these are the main things that really stood out to me from the introduction that signaled to me this was not just someone introducing her work bestie to her family:

Their nonverbal cues on the screening stage signaled to me that there were BIG feelings between L/N about her family being there (I couldn't tell you what feelings exactly, but I would guess it was a mixture of nervousness, excitement, happiness, etc.)

The WAY L was sooooo in tune with her during this screening presentation because he knew how overwhelming this all was for her. And he appeared hyper-aware that her family was there, and it appeared to me from his body language and behavior that he was very self-conscious and trying to make the BEST first impression on her family

The WAY N asked L to come meet her mom. I have like a lot to say about this little moment because I think it speaks VOLUMES. 1) L is kind of distracted talking to some fans, but N is laser focused on her family and not really paying any attention to the fans (I'm sure she was very eager to go greet her mom, but she stayed glued to him (it read as VERY connected body language wise) and she was obviously not going to go until he went with her) 2) She then gently puts her hand on his arm and asked him to come meet her mom 3) He redirected his attention to her and happily said yes 4) He turned back to the fans to say goodbye, and N was already very gently guiding him away towards her mom 5) He and her were a unit in this moment, this introduction was going to happen as a unit 6) This whole interaction just SCREAMED of two people who have an intimate relationship and are very comfortable with each other (again, the nonverbal cues 👀)

She gives her mom a very heartfelt and teary hello, and then her mom holds her arms out like "Luke come here." and N is like oh yeah "Big moment big moment" and L (who has repeatedly said he's not a big fan of hugs) comes over and gives her mom a BIG hug and is just BEAMING. And the whole crowd goes wild lol -> He also tells her mom "Thank you for being so kind (OR making her (N) so kind 😭). I'll see you after. We'll spend some time"'

There is too much to list in regards to the body language of everyone involved in this moment, but it speaks VOLUMES that this was a highly anticipated introduction and a major moment for everyone. I would recommend, if you haven't, going back and looking over how N's brother and SIL react to this introduction, it is PARTICULARLY telling.

And the cherry on top is that when her mom turns away to go back to her seat after the hug, she does this little approving nod to whoever she was sitting by like "Yup, he's a good one. I like him for her." 😭😭

Final thoughts on this introduction/Ireland in general/miscellaneous:

That family introduction was absolutely WILD...Now even if her family had decided not to go to the Galway screening, I am almost certain L would have stayed around that weekend and hung out with her family regardless. Why... Because (like I have mentioned a few times on this blog) I think they know what they have, and I think they legit see a future with each other if they can figure things out. And I think they discussed a lot of this during the tour, which is why we saw what we saw with the introduction. I am almost certain they would not have had the emotions they did to this family introduction if they weren’t serious about being in each other’s lives for the foreseeable future.

Also, this family introduction was personal (for them, not for us–AKA not PR). I think we just got lucky that we got to be a small part of this wholesome/genuine moment because N’s family made the decision to go to the public Galway screening where a bunch of fans would be able to record them. That 100% wasn’t coordinated or calculated by N or the press people.

Now she might have been lying, but I personally believe N when she said in one of those London radio interviews about L/N staying in Galway during the weekend with her family to “recuperate” before the premiere. They both talked in London about how they spent time with her family after the screening, N's BIL tried to get L drunk, N (not so subtly) implying how her mom had VERY positive thoughts on L after meeting him, etc. Again, I think this speaks VOLUMES on where L/N were at emotionally at this point.

If we go on the understanding that N is jaded about romantic relationships and really private about this part of her life, having to navigate all these big new feelings for someone on a public stage was probably INCREDIBLY challenging (for both of them tbh). It was probably made even more complicated by the fact that they HAD to play up the romantic vibes to promote the show, which made people ship them like crazy (which was super easy to do because there are real feelings between them). And I think they didn't quite realize HOW obvious they had been about their feelings, but are in NO way going to go public with these feelings right now (if they are indeed working on their relationship). Why? Because it would destroy their relationship at this point in time. However, I think they gave us SOO many crumbs (Ireland being the most obvious imo) that there is real deep love and attraction for each other. For me, if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's a duck 😉

Here are my final thoughts to tie up my timeline theories on the PR tour. I personally believe the PR tour forced them to address big feelings for each other that they had been avoiding for a while. Their feelings were reciprocated. They physically acted on their feelings at various points of the tour. They had a lot of conversations in private and determined their strong feelings and attraction went past the show and their characters, and determined they wanted to move forward and figure out what their romantic feelings for each other meant. They emotionally became a lot more connected BTS, and I think they were starting to have more conversations about a POTENTIAL serious future with each other. This led to more obvious nonverbal cues that signaled there was more confidence, intimacy, and security between them, and then it culminated in the absolute goldmine that was Ireland. However, the whole situation is quite complicated because of the whole A of it all. I completely acknowledge that she is still in his life, and they are still involved in some sort of capacity. I talked about my thoughts on that though here. Therefore, I feel like they just need time in private to cook and figure everything out away from the spotlight. L/N gave us soooo many clues though on how they were feeling about each other BTS while they were on the PR tour, and if you put them all together, it tells quite the story imo 😉

[a-knife-in-my-sandwich]

EoW hc that after they defeated Null, Zelda and Link start hanging out all the time. They both want to know more about each other but with Link not being used to talking after so many years without a voice, they have to find other ways to express themselves. And so they head to Jabul waters and ask the Zora to teach them how to play instruments. They go to the Gerudo and ask them to teach them how to dance. Zelda gets a castle instructor to teach her sign language, and one to teach Link to read and write while she’s at it.

Just thinking about the many many nonverbal ways we humans use to express ourselves across the world (and have used across all our cultures and histories) and how Link and Zelda could do that too.

Link teaches Zelda how to properly use a sword and bow now that she doesn’t have swordfighter mode anymore. He beats her in swordfighting but she quickly surpasses him in archery (bombs are a draw). They play music together, dance together, travel together.

They come out of temples and caves covered in dirt and bruises but they’re smiling so widely. Lueberry gains a new research assistant. Zelda helps Link expand his ever growing collection of bugs and rocks. Link becomes a taste tester for Zelda’s increasingly crazy smoothie recipes. They compete in gliding races together.

I’m going off topic but just. Two best friends who don’t need words to understand each other. Who become inseparable and explore and learn new things together. I’m going insane

[amymbona]

thinking abt perv bff Tashi ugghhh

like during movie night, she kicks a pillow off the bed and makes you get up to get it and when you bend over she has a nice view of your underwear

makes you take off your bra before playing tennis because "it's hot outside" (it isn't, she just wants to see the bounce)

makes you wear her shirt and only her shirt because 'its more comfortable"

and also because she wants to steal your panties

If she did this to me, I'd probably go crazy for her 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

She basically teaches you to feel comfortable in as little clothing as possible, writing a slogan "free the titties!" on one of the stickers on your laptop. And you're kinda grateful for it, because you used to be really insecure and afraid of showing too much. Like the little spandex shorts you'd wear under your skirt for tennis. You'd be sweating your ass off in them, itching your butt hastily, the same uncomfortable feeling applying to your bra, squeezing your tits and allowing for too much sweat to pool around them.

Now, she's made you her little doll, basically (un)dressing you up to her liking. And you are so compliant, willing to walk around your shared dorm just in your panties. Literally. Not joking. You leave the small bathroom attached to your room almost naked, not caring that you've forgotten your (her, she literally makes you sleep in her clothing) shirt folded on the bed. Your tits are free, lightly bouncing as you walk, a few remaining droplets of water hanging from your nipples.

Tashi can't resist herself. She makes a little come here gesture with her hand and has you sit on her bed. "You've got a little something on here," and with complete nonchalance, she begins wiping the remaining water (literally just a few drops that would dry within the next few minutes or get soaked into the shirt) off of your breasts, her soft thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You can't hold back a moan, eyes widening, not only at the way she touches you, but mainly the indifference in her expression. This is the first time she - anybody - has ever touched you like that, so intimately.

"Tashi," you whisper shakily, "What are you-"

"Shhh. It's okay," she shushes you, a firm tone contrasting the soft smile on her face, as her palms move to cup your breasts. "Do you like it?"

You gulp, staring down at where her tan hands keep lightly holding your tits, testing how the feel against her hold. "I don't know."

"I can make you like it," she states with total confidence.

"How?"

The response is nonverbal. Instead of an explanation, Tashi kisses you, the soft press of her glossed lips against your making you whimper lightly. If you were standing right now, your legs would probably give up under you. She overpowers you easily, and yet there is a certain gentleness to her movements, because she knows you're so innocent and inexperienced. She can basically feel you tremble as she holds you, loving the way she's turning you into a little shy mess in her hands.

With easy precision, her lips travel over your cheek and down the line of your jaw to settle under your ear, where they latch onto the soft, never kissed before skin. She's gonna be the first person to ever give you a hickey, to mark you and make you hers.

With her help, you're lowered onto your back, bare body hitting the mattress. Tashi settles between your legs, allowing them to wrap around her hips. You do that whole thing yourself and she smiles into your skin, knowing you must have seen that in some movie, squeezing your breasts in return.

"You're so pretty," she whispers as the kisses slowly move towards your chest, your sensitive and, up until now, untouched breasts. "Such pretty tits."

"Tashi," you're a moaning mess as your friend's lips latch onto your nipple, sucking the air in and pulling it between her teeth. Your body jerks, afraid she might actually bite your nipple off, eyes snapping open as you stare at the ceiling.

She keeps running over your nipple with her tongue, teasing the other one with her thumb to keep the stimulation even, and poor you, you're trembling under her like a lamb, back arching to push her breasts closer to her face.

Tashi moves onto your other nipple, leaving a thin trail of her sweet saliva to drip into the valley between your breasts, sucking and licking like she's trying to get a sip of some milk that you've never had any chance acquiring. She teases your sensitive breasts and nipples with her hands and mouth, enjoying the way you moan under her. Successfully, she's turning you into her little doll, showing you all the ways a woman can be pleasured.

[star-wrld]

Which of the Bad Kids I would smoke with based on the scene with Eugenia Shadow

Fig: yes BUT only under specific circumstances like a party or smth. would not go out of my way to get high with her since her vibe would just be way to much for me when i'm out of it

Gorgug: hell yeah we would smoke. he was like the only one smoking normally probably number 1 on the bad kids i wanna smoke with list. was just chill as fuck i respect it

Adaine: yeah, even though she hasn't smoked before she seemed to get the hang of it and i'm sure the convo would be great

Fabian: HELL FUCKING NO!!! was taking the weirdest hits the entire time he would freak me the fuck out. get that man away from me

Kristen: no, kristen feels like someone i would need all my mental faculties to interact with. she'd start saying something crazy and i would go nonverbal

Riz: no, but that's because it doesn't seem like he would wanna smoke. also, he seems like the paranoid type and i just could not take that

[simpforpeterp]

stanford pines x reader

Look Me in the Eye

summary: based on a daisy jones and the six scene! a one shot in which ford comes home from a crazy night with bill, pushing you to your limit

warnings: a slap from reader to ford. gender neutral reader! this one shot came from a chapter of my actual oc story about ford but i made it gender neutral x reader because i’m so proud of this scene.

word count: 4.4k

With Fiddleford back home for Thanksgiving and the portal on a brief hiatus, you’d think Ford would take that chance to be home. But he doesn’t; he keeps working. So, you decide to try and get some work done too. Writing hasn’t come easy, though.

Ford is God knows where, and you’re sitting at your piano, staring at the keys, waiting for the words to come. At this point, a part of you has accepted that the Ford you married is somewhere deep in the back of his brain. He said he would do better, but he hasn’t. You think back to your cousin and how you swore that you wouldn’t let yourself end up like that—in a small town with a deadbeat partner and a baby.

The only thing you don’t have out of those things is a baby, which you don’t want. When you were younger, you always saw yourself having kids. But when you marry a human, it’s a little strange to think about. It’s unknown if you could even have kids together. There were legends back home about two humans in the demon realm, and one of them married and had a baby with a witch.

You do a mini birth control spell that you’re not even sure works. Well, it’s worked so far—you haven’t gotten pregnant yet. Ford wouldn’t give a damn about a baby anyway, so why even put it at the forefront of your mind? And you’re fine without kids. You’re not one of those people who craved kids their whole life and dreamed about what life with children would look like.

You always assumed it would happen if it happened. And with Ford, it’s not happening. These past few months have proven that more than ever because he’s rarely home. The way most couples go out to dinner at the end of a long day, you and Ford go out to breakfast two or three times a week. But he’s usually trying to hide the fact that he’s rushing to get back to work.

His attempt at spending time with you is noted but not necessarily accepted.

The door creaks open, and you hear the unsteady shuffle of Ford’s footsteps before you see him. He stumbles into the room, shirtless, his hair a tangled mess, eyes glassy, and reeking of alcohol. He stands there in the doorway, looking at you with a mix of shame and regret, unable to meet your gaze for long. He tries to speak, but the words fumble out, barely coherent.

“Ford,” you breathe, your voice wavering between anger and concern. You step closer to him, looking at how droopy and tired his eyes look. “What happened to you?”

“I… I know Bill took it too far this time, but it doesn’t… it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not—” He’s almost nonverbal, his normally sharp mind dulled by the alcohol and Bill’s lingering influence. When you see new tattoos on his body, you lose it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Ford? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You demand. He doesn’t even look at you; his mind is completely somewhere else. It’s as if Ford isn’t even in there right now.

Before he can respond, you close the distance between you, and your hand connects with his face in a swift, stinging slap. Given that you’re smaller than him, it doesn’t do much other than make him look at you. Ford looks at you, stunned, his hand moving slowly to his cheek where your slap left its mark and a slight stinging pain.

“You come home like this,” you say, your voice breaking as tears well up in your eyes. “After everything, you think you can just brush it off? You think you can say it doesn’t mean anything and that’s supposed to be enough?”

Ford’s lips tremble, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and sorrow. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how much he hates himself for what he’s become, but the words won’t come.

“What happened to the man I married?” you continue, your voice softer now, though no less pained. “Where’s the Ford who would move mountains for me, who promised we’d get through anything together? Because this…” You gesture at him, tears finally spilling over. “This isn’t the man I fell in love with.”

Ford’s eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. He knows he’s the cause, knows that he’s pushed you to the edge, but he still can’t let go of the work, of the promises he made to Bill. But none of that matters now—not when he sees how much he’s hurting you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. “I… it’s Bill, but I—”

“So, who do I blame?” you ask, and he doesn’t have an answer. “Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like this? You come home from doing God knows what, God knows where, and have the nerve to try to defend Bill? After all of this bullshit, you still think he’s someone worth putting up with?”

You look at him, your anger slowly giving way to a deep, aching sadness. You still love him—God, you love him so much—but this version of Ford, the one who’s been consumed by his work and Bill’s influence, is breaking your heart piece by piece.

“I love you, Ford. I love you so much it hurts, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself… and us.” Your voice trembles as you take a step back, the space between you feeling like a chasm.

“Please… I don’t want to lose you. I love you more than anything. I’m sorry.” Ford reaches out to you, desperation in his eyes.

You hesitate, looking at the man you married, the one you’ve been trying to hold on to, but you can’t shake the fear that he’s already slipping away.

“You’re losing me, Stanford.” You shake your head as another tear falls, and it’s like everything comes bubbling over all at once.

Ford reaches out, desperate to close the distance between you, but you step back, gently pushing him away. Your hands, though soft against his chest, carry the weight of all the anger and hurt you’ve been holding in.

“Go take a shower, Ford,” you say, your voice trembling but firm. “I’m not going to talk to you again until you do.”

Your words hit him like a cold splash of reality. He can see the resolve in your eyes, the line you’re drawing in the sand. You’re not just angry; you’re done—at least for now. Ford hesitates, wanting to say something, anything to make this right, but the look on your face tells him that words won’t fix this. Not this time.

He nods, defeated, and turns away, heading for the bathroom. The sound of the door closing behind him feels like a finality he’s not ready to face. He lingers for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob, hoping you’ll say something—anything—to stop him from leaving the room. But you don’t.

As he steps into the shower, the hot water cascades over him, washing away the grime and sweat from the night, but it does nothing to ease the weight on his chest. He leans against the tiled wall, water mingling with the tears he’s been holding back.

His heart breaks. He knew after every other little crack in your relationship that this was coming. But nothing could’ve made him ready for the day you finally snapped. And he knows you don’t believe he loves you as much as he does, which kills him.

Meanwhile, you watch him disappear into the bathroom, your heart heavy with the love you still feel for him, mixed with the deep-seated pain of watching him spiral. You turn on your heel, walking away, needing the space to gather yourself before you can even think about facing him again. As you move through your home, every room feels colder and emptier, and you can’t shake the fear that the warmth you once shared might be slipping away for good.

After all that, you feel like you need a shower too. You can’t believe you said all that and exploded. It felt like it was a long time coming and this was the final straw. His coming home like that, completely shameless, made you feel an anger you hadn’t felt before. Anger because you always said you could do better than your family, but he’s making you feel the same as they did.

When Ford finally emerges, clean but still burdened, he heads into your bedroom. He notices you sitting there with red, puffy eyes. He doesn’t know what to do; he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted, but you have to know how pissed I am,” you speak first as he takes a seat beside you on the bed. “If you don’t love me anymore, just say it. You’re never around anymore, and when you are, it seems like you just want to get away from me. It’s fine if you don’t love me anymore; I’d be heartbroken, but I’d be okay. I’d be even more heartbroken if you kept me hanging around here when it’s just me who still loves you.”

Ford feels his throat tighten at your words, guilt and sorrow gnawing at him. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words catch in his throat. How can he make you understand that his distance has never been about a lack of love? How can he convince you that despite everything, you’re still the most important part of his life?

“I always promised myself I wouldn’t be this,” you start. “Sitting around as if I need someone. I never wanted to be the person stuck at home, trotting around at the genius’ heels. Especially not with someone who doesn’t—who might not—” your voice trembles, and he quickly jumps in.

“I do love you,” he finally whispers, his voice hoarse. “I love you more than anything. I’m just… lost. This work, everything I’ve been doing—it’s consumed me, and I know I’ve let it come between us. But please, don’t ever think that I don’t love you. That’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

You listen, your eyes searching his face for sincerity. You can see the regret there, the deep sadness in his eyes, but you’ve heard apologies before. You need more than just words. Ford reaches out, taking your hand in his, holding it like a lifeline. He can feel your fingers trembling, and it breaks his heart all over again.

“I know I’ve been terrible,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my work that I’ve neglected you, neglected us. But I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. I’ll do better—I promise I’ll do better.”

“How many times have we had this conversation, Ford? I—I’m getting tired,” you breathe out.

“I mean, what do you want me to tell you here? Do you want me to say I’m never gonna work with Bill again? Because I can’t! I need him.” Ford tries.

“No, you don’t!” you slightly raise your voice before sighing.

“Do you want me to just stop working so you can be making money and supporting me while I do nothing? I mean, fuck, you’re not exactly writing or anything right now,” he breathes out.

“I’m trying,” you say firmly.

“I can’t… I can’t lose so you’re comfortable! I can’t lose because you can’t win,” he raises his voice.

And then it’s quiet for a moment. Neither of you speaks, but Ford instantly regrets it.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” your voice breaks.

He’s failed you in so many ways, and he’s terrified that it might be too late to fix things. But as he looks into your eyes, he knows he has to try.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right,” he says, his voice trembling with conviction. “Just… please don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.”

“I don’t believe you,” you cry, and he slightly stiffens. “I mean, did you hear what you just said? I need to go for a drive or something.”

“Wait, please,” he starts, but you’re already standing up and trying to leave. “I’m so in love with you it feels like I can’t breathe when I’m not with you!”

As you try to walk out as quickly as possible to hide your tears, he sees your hand come up to wipe them.

“Please don’t go,” he begs, finally catching up with you and placing his hands on your shoulders. “Please, just hear me out.”

“I’ll hear you out later, I just need a minute. I don’t want to give up on this, but I just… I need a coffee or something,” you look him in the eyes, and everything in him softens.

“Okay,” he breathes out. “Just… please, come home to me.”

“I will. I’ll be back soon,” you nod.

Ford watches helplessly as you leave. The door clicks shut behind you, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. His heart aches with a pain he can’t describe, but he doesn’t have the time to wallow. The moment you’re gone, something snaps inside him, and he storms back into his office.

Once inside, Ford slams the door shut and collapses into his chair, his body shaking as the tears finally break free. He buries his face in his hands, the sobs wracking his body with a force he hasn’t felt in years. All of the pain, the regret, the self-loathing—it all comes pouring out in a way that feels like it could tear him apart.

But before he can even begin to regain control, he senses a familiar presence. The air in the room changes, becoming thick with an ominous energy that Ford knows all too well.

"Why the long face, Sixer?" Bill’s voice cuts through the silence. "Having a little lover’s quarrel?"

Ford lifts his head, his bloodshot eyes meeting Bill’s glowing form. Rage surges through him, raw and untamed.

"This is your fault," he yells. "You’ve ruined everything!"

"Me? Ruin? Oh, come on, Fordsy. You know this was bound to happen. You’re the one who’s been pushing them away, not me." Bill laughs, the sound echoing eerily off the walls. Ford’s fists clench at his sides, the anger building to a boiling point.

"I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you!" he shouts, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. "My marriage is falling apart because of you!"

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic," Bill taunts, his voice dripping with condescension. "You think I made you neglect them? Do you think I made you ignore all those signs? That’s all you, pal. I see everything, and they’ve been telling you how they feel like every day. It’s not my fault you don’t care enough to do anything about it."

"I- why did you have to go so crazy in my body? I respect you, and I’m still finishing the portal, but what the hell? At the end of the day, I wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you." Ford glares.

"You think finishing that portal is going to fix your problems? Oh, Fordsy, you’re in way over your head. Stop blaming me. It’s not my fault you want to see me more than your own spouse." Bill laughs.

"Maybe you can’t process emotions like this, but they’re the love of my life. Before them, I hadn’t really dated anyone, and I wasn’t even sleeping around or anything; I was a loser. The only reason I ended up with someone as incredible as them without ruining it, like usual, is because I saw them as an anomaly at first. I didn’t think I was flirting or anything. I don’t know what I’d do if they left me. I wouldn’t even know what love is without them. You need to think about what your actions can mean for other people, Bill." Ford turns back to Bill.

"Clearly, you’re the one that needs to think about your actions. Isn’t it crazy that if you neglect someone’s feelings, they won’t want to be with you anymore? Even I can understand that!" Bill laughs, and Ford just stands up.

Ford sits there for a moment before he decides he can’t take it anymore. He stands up and heads to the music room. Bill yells things as he walks away, but Ford doesn’t hear it. He heads straight for a notebook full of songs they’ve written. His heart is racing as he opens it and sees so many that he hasn’t even heard yet.

In fact, this is a new notebook almost full of songs he hasn’t heard except for a few at the beginning. Have they not tried to show him, or has he not tried to listen? He reads the sad lyrics of almost every song, lyrics about feeling lonely when with someone you love and waking up alone. Songs about how they try to convince themselves that they’re a part of his life but not feeling like it. When did he start pulling away from them?

You sit in your car with a to-go cup of coffee, unsure if you should drive home yet or simmer for a little while longer. Your fingers tap on the warm cup as you try to think clearly. Your love for Ford is swarming every inch of your mind. But you know you shouldn’t accept what you don’t deserve, and you know you haven’t done anything to deserve this.

The version of you before Ford would’ve threatened a divorce already to try and scare him. You don’t want to do that now, but you want him to realize that you can’t keep living like this. You can’t keep following in his stride instead of walking beside him. You’ve won ten Grammys; it’s not as if you’re unaccomplished with no other options but to stay with him.

But you want to stay with him. Ford is so loving and warm. No one has ever loved you the way he has. Hell, no one other than Ford has seen you as more than a one-night thing. And you love him so much. You can’t help but wonder if maybe there’s something here for you to try to understand that you don’t already.

You look at the ring on your finger—his ring. And you don’t feel like other people have described, like it’s a handcuff or a jail cell that’s keeping you locked to him. You love being married to Ford. Saying you don’t and never did would be a complete lie. You just don’t love being mostly ignored by the man you love.

For someone so smart, he can be such an idiot sometimes. Letting some kind of entity possess his body whenever it pleases is a new low. Is that my problem? Bill? you think. It’s not right to you that his weakest self gets to decide how your life is going to turn out; you get to decide that. And what you want is a life—a beautiful marriage, a home—with him. With the man you know he truly is. And you’re going to get it, hell or high water.

You take a deep breath, your eyes still fixed on the ring as you turn it around your finger. The thought of a future without Ford makes your heart ache, but you know you deserve better, and you know Ford is capable of giving it to you—if he just realized how much you mean to him, how much you mean to each other.

You sip your coffee, the warmth grounding you, giving you the clarity you need. You know you have limits. If Ford can’t see the toll his actions are taking on your marriage, then you have to make him see it. You have to stand up for yourself, for what you want, and for the life you could have together.

You start the car, the decision made. You’re going to drive home and talk to him—not in anger or frustration, but with the love that’s still there, burning so fiercely in your heart. You’re going to make him understand what’s at stake—not just your marriage, but everything you’ve built together.

As you drive, the road blurs slightly through your unshed tears, but you blink them away. You can’t afford to lose focus now. Ford needs to know that you’re serious, that this isn’t just another fight that will blow over. This is your future, and you won’t let it slip away without a fight.

When you pull up to the house, your resolve only strengthens. You take a deep breath before stepping out of the car, the ring on your finger feeling like a lifeline rather than a chain. You walk into the house, finding Ford sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looks up as you enter, and the relief in his eyes is almost overwhelming.

“Ford…” you begin, your voice thick with emotion, but you hold up a hand to stop him as he tries to respond.

“Ford, I need you to listen to me,” you say firmly, though your voice trembles slightly. You sit down beside him, taking his hands in yours. “I love you more than anything in this world, but I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep being the one who’s always trying to catch up to you, to your work, to everything else that seems to matter more than me or my feelings.”

His eyes widen in panic, and he starts to speak, but you squeeze his hands, stopping him again.

“No, Ford. Let me finish,” you continue, your voice soft but steady. “You’ve always been so loving, so warm, and I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. But you know me, and you know I’m not the type to ignore the fact that I’ve felt more like an afterthought lately. And it hurts. It really, really hurts.”

“Please, I—” Ford’s face crumples, and you can see the guilt and regret swirling in his eyes.

“I don’t want to threaten you with divorce or give you an ultimatum,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “But I need you to understand that if we’re going to make this work, you need to start seeing me as your partner again, not just someone who’s here to support you while you chase after your dreams. We need to be in this together, walking side by side—not with me always trying to catch up.”

Ford looks at you with such intensity that it nearly takes your breath away. His eyes are red and puffy too, his fingers nervously moving his ring in circles on his finger.

“You’re right,” he finally says, his voice hoarse. “I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve taken you for granted. But I swear to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. You mean everything to me, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You make me want to be better, not just for you, but for us. And I’m going to prove it to you. I don’t want to lose this with you, and I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you. Just… please, don’t go. I’m still yours. My heart is always gonna be yours. You are the one I want.”

“I just want you to see me, Ford. Really see me. I’m not asking you to give up your work, but I need you to find a balance, to make room for us in your life. Because I can’t keep doing this if things don’t change.” You nod, tears spilling over your lashes as you squeeze his hands.

“I see you. I promise I see you,” Ford whispers, pulling you into his arms. “And I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me. I won’t let you down again. And those aren’t just empty promises—I mean every word I say to you.”

As you hold each other, the tension begins to melt away, replaced by the hope that you can find your way back to each other. It won’t be easy, but you know it’s possible. And for the first time in a long time, you believe that you can make it work. Ford pulls back slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t date anyone in high school or college—I was too focused on my work. Hell, I’ve only slept with four people in my life, and you’re the only one who wanted me after that. You’re the only one who stayed the morning after and kissed me and smiled at me. You looked so perfect then, and it would’ve been impossible not to want more with you. You’re the reason I want to be better, the reason I want to wake up every morning. And I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, but I’m not going to take it for granted anymore. I promise you that.”

“Okay.” You nod for a moment before bringing his lips to yours.

He sinks into you, and the next thing he knows, he’s on top of you on the couch. Both of your hands are desperate as your lips talk. And he thinks, while this is happening, that you are worth everything to him. He didn’t think any of this would be happening when he first got out of high school and his life was in front of him. He never thought he would even have a spouse, let alone be kissing you with his body between your legs in your home on a quiet November night.

And the further things go, he realizes that he hasn’t touched you like this since your most recent talk about him neglecting you before tonight. Seasons changed, months passed, and he was too wrapped up in whatever he was doing to just exist with you, which is what he loved doing when you first met.

[percivaljacksons]

preview

hi ive decided to stop taking myself so seriously -- when i finish this it'll go on ao3 as a oneshot, but this is what ive got so far of angsty divers au (no it still does not have a title). rated somewhere between t and m. can i get a hell yeah in the chat? um have fun lol.

..

NYT: A lot of headlines have already declared this as the discovery of the century—one even as the discovery of the millenia. Did you envision such a momentous breakthrough in your career?

PJ: Uh, no. I didn’t think I was gonna graduate high school. You can laugh, dude, but I’m not joking. This has all been one crazy ride. My life changed forever the moment I met Annabeth Chase. 

//

What Annabeth remembers, during the nights she tries not to:

The cold. The blackness so thick they might as well have been diving in ink. Percy’s mouthpiece, warm when he pressed it to her lips every twelve seconds. She’d breathe in, then tap his wrist twice, and it would disappear once more.

They’ve always been good at nonverbal communication. A twitch of an eyebrow here, a sideways glance there. She knows when he’s rolling his eyes without having to look. He always manages to pass her a tissue right before she sneezes.

Annabeth wonders if they’ll ever get out from beneath what they said to each other, down in the Pit, where neither of them could utter a single word.

//

The phone rings five times, tinny and faint in Annabeth’s ear as she waits. She’s breathing hard, her hair still dripping and her suit peeled down to her waist, a pair of sunglasses her only real protection against the late afternoon Mediterranean sun. 

The ringing cuts off, and a groggy voice says, “yeah?”

Annabeth glances down at her watch. “Percy?” She asks. 

There’s a beat. When the voice speaks again, it’s perfectly awake. “Annabeth?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I…I thought you’d be awake by now.”

“I’m in San Diego.”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine. Good, I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah.” His voice is quiet, almost wistful. “Why the new phone number?”

“It’s temporary. I’m in Greece.” She listens to him breathe, feels her own heart settle. 

“Greece,” he repeats.

Her thumb smooths over the shard of pottery in her hand. “Yeah. How soon can you get here?”

“To Greece? Shit, Annabeth, I don’t—”

“I found it,” she says. A glance over her shoulder tells her that her two grad students are laughing as they organize her gear and not paying attention to her at all, but she lowers her voice anyway. “I saw it, Percy. It’s real.” She breathes in, then out. The boat rocks under her. “I found it,” she repeats.

Static crackles in her ear. “I’ll be there in 24 hours,” Percy says.

//

They’d gone down together, which was stupid. So much of it was stupid with even a few hours of hindsight. No one coming down after them, thinking they knew the cave too well to get lost, believing that doing everything right meant that they were safe.

Stupid. 

The light clipped onto her suit only illuminated about a twelve inches past her flippers. She could see the walls on either side, the familiar steadily making way for the unfamiliar as they descended to the section only Percy had explored. 

Percy’s flipper tapped her head. He was reminding her to stop and equalize her ear pressure, so she did. He was more experienced diving in salt water. It saved her life, in the end—she had her nose pinched and her mouth firmly closed when she got slammed into the wall regulator yoke first. 

The straps on her chest jerked from the release of pressure, but it was the feeling of the bubbles rapidly flowing up her that let her know she was really, truly fucked.

//

It’s been six months since the Pit, and three since they last saw each other in person. Annabeth thought he was in New York, Percy probably thought she was—well, Annabeth doesn’t actually know. Probably not where she’s been. 

She’s been in Sicily and Ostia and around sixteen different Greek and Turkish islands. She hasn’t stayed in one place long enough for her mind to settle, has managed to outrun every shadow that clung to her pumping heels, only now her throat burns and her muscles ache and Percy meets her at the arrivals gate in Athens with a fresh tan and an unsure smile and Annabeth is all too aware that her months of avoidance have come to an end. 

Percy comes to a stop a foot or so away from her, tantalizingly close. Within arm’s reach. “Hey,” he says. 

His hair is long enough that he needs a band to keep his bangs out of his eyes. She recognizes it—it’s the same one she’d used to keep her own hair from falling in her face when it started to grow back after she’d chopped it five and a half months ago. The duffel bag thrown over his shoulder is also hers, and so is the necklace peeking out from beneath his collar. 

Annabeth hugs him because she wants to kiss him. “Hi,” she responds. 

The duffel bag hits the floor. His arms wrap around her, fierce and firm, and she buries her face in the warm skin of his neck. Stubble scratches against her cheek; Annabeth breathes easy for the first time in something like twelve weeks. 

“I thought you might send one of your grad students,” he says. His arms stay locked around her. 

“You got on the first flight you could,” Annabeth responds, her voice muffled. “Least I could do was meet you halfway.”

His fingertips press the tiniest bit harder into her spine. “Thanks,” he whispers into her hair. 

Annabeth’s own necklace digs into her jaw. I’ve missed you, she says with the nudge of her nose against his pulse. 

He rocks them back and forth, just barely. I’ve missed you, too, he responds with the graze of his palms over her back. 

Annabeth takes a breath, takes in the unchanged feeling coursing through her blood, and finally manages to take a step back. “You ready?” She asks. 

Percy’s smile is dazzling. “You bet your bippy I am.”

Annabeth leads him to her rental with loosely linked fingers, her steps so light she’s half convinced she could walk right over the Mediterranean itself. 

//

The last time they saw each other—the last time she saw him—it had been in the artificial brightness of their living room. Annabeth hadn’t slept in days, Percy hardly ever looked her in the eye, and neither of them could muster the strength to turn off even their tiniest, most ineffective lamp. 

No matter how many times Annabeth took deep breaths, she was still gasping for air. 

Percy would turn on the shower and stare at the water hitting the other side of the curtain, the bathroom door firmly shut, and then turn the faucet off again without ever stepping in. 

They curled up together every night, their bedroom lit up like a department store, her fingertips leaving bruises in his hips and shoulders, and if they were lucky sometimes one of them could fall asleep. 

Annabeth left New York. Percy didn’t follow her. 

//

One of her grad students picks them up from the dock. They were the only passengers on the boat from the mainland, so she’s the only person waiting, leaning against a rusty pickup truck filled with scuba equipment. She’s also lazily smoking a cigarette, her bright blue hair lit up a striking cobalt by the sun. 

She drops the cigarette and twists her foot over it the moment she sees them approach. “Doctor,” she greets with a grin that’s a little too innocent. 

Annabeth glares at her. “Pick that up. We’re not here to litter.”

The grad student sticks a hand out to shake Percy’s. “Hey, I’m Lucy. You the pottery guy?”

“I leave for one day and your hair is blue,” Annabeth mutters, taking the duffel bag from Percy’s shoulder and tossing it into the back. “If you’ve been smoking in the truck…”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “No, Mom, I haven’t been smoking in the truck. My hair’s blue because Mitchell won our bet, don’t worry about it. I didn’t even stain the towels.”

“I like it,” Percy says. 

“See?” Lucy says. She bends down and picks up her cigarette butt when Annabeth keeps glaring. “The pottery guy gets it.”

“Um—” Percy tries to say. 

“This is Percy,” Annabeth explains. “He’s not a pottery guy.”

“When’s the pottery guy getting here, then?”

Annabeth goes around to the driver’s side and gets in the truck instead of answering. Lucy shrugs and moves the passenger seat up to slide into the rear bench, waving Percy away when he tries to get in. He sits in the front with a shrug once Lucy’s knees are out of the way, and the moment his seatbelt is buckled Annabeth tears out of the marina parking lot. 

“So.” Lucy’s fingers tap along the backs of their chairs. “If you’re not a pottery guy, who are you? ‘Cuz Annabeth found a piece of pottery on her dive two days ago and took off outta here like Icarus on his way to freedom.”

It’s a weird simile, but Annabeth doesn’t respond. When Percy turns to look at her, her eyes don’t even stray from the road. 

“You didn’t tell them?” He asks. 

Annabeth grunts. Percy keeps staring at her, wondering which question he should answer, and eventually says to Lucy, “Annabeth and I…” He sighs. “Well, we go way back. How long have you been her student?” 

“A few months,” Lucy says. 

Percy smiles and turns to look out the window. They’re along the coast now, and the ocean is blue like a jolly rancher. “She doesn’t need a pottery guy,” he says.

Lucy raises her eyebrows. She looks at Percy, then at Annabeth, then back to Percy again. “Totally explains everything,” she says, and the rest of the drive passes in silence. 

//

For weeks after the Pit, Annabeth was on the edge of a panic attack whenever she couldn’t feel Percy beside her. She knew why, logically. The therapist explained it, and everyone was so goddamn understanding. Grover, and Sally, and Piper, and Nico, and Clarisse.

Even her mother, under the thick layer of I-told-you-so that she didn’t bother to try and hide.

What can you say, when your head finally has broken free of the water? When all light is blinding, when you can’t get rid of the taste of salt on your lips?

What can you say to the person who pulled you back to life, when you’re the only reason his soul grazed the razor edge of death in the first place?

//

“Why are the vibes, like, literally rancid?” Mitchell mutters, loading the extra gear his advisor always insists on bringing onto the boat.

“Girl, if I knew,” Lucy responds, shaking her head. 

“You could help, you know.”

“I picked them up from the dock! No, don’t put the yoke by the O2—”

“You do it, then!”

“Fine.”

She joins him, loading in silence. After a minute:

“$5 they’ve boned.”

“You’re so on.”

//

They put their gear on together, her reaching out to zip him up without prompting and him holding her tank steady so she can slide her arms through the straps. They don’t have to look at each other to do it, so they don’t. 

Annabeth only glances over once they’re finished. His eyes are hidden behind his diving mask, and Annabeth’s heart migrates to her throat.

The last time she’d seen him like that had been—

“Ready?” She asks.

Percy nods. She goes in first, and he follows.

He’s still following, even now. But that’s Percy. 

From above the surface, it looks like a rock. A big rock, sure, but not dissimilar from the jutting stones that surround a lot of the Mediterranean, the jagged edges that contrast the white sand beaches. That’s been her main research tactic, recently—where do the tourists avoid? What stone has been left unturned, what looks so innocuous from above that no one would ever suspect it was an X, marking a very secret spot?

Under the surface, it’s a different story. Not an obvious story, but at this point Annabeth could navigate each curve and edge in her sleep. She does, on the nights she doesn’t dream of a blackness like tar. 

It’s a bright enough day that sunlight streaks through the water a good twenty feet down, exposing the imposing face of stone. There isn’t an entrance, really, but there’s nooks and crannies and crevices, and Annabeth is the particular kind of crazy to have wiggled her way through every single one she could. 

On instinct, she reaches down and clicks on one of her flashlights. With a confident flick of her feet, she propels herself towards the opening that started it all. 

There are three flashlights clipped to the straps around her shoulders. When she had zipped up Percy’s suit, she had noticed the four he had clipped to his.

She finds the optical illusion, the uneven meeting that looks like a solid wall. If you stare at it long enough, the ripples of light coming through the water reveal it for what it is. She presses forward, and just like six months ago Percy goes where she leads.

From there, it’s memory. Through the cave system, careful and slow, even as her heart pounds. Under the archway, chipped away from the rock, a little too even to be natural. She pauses under it and taps it with one hand. Percy nods in response. He sees it. He knows.

After the archway, it’s left until the opening below, leading down to darker and colder waters. Annabeth checks her backup flashlights, braces herself, and heads down. 

She doesn’t look to see if Percy follows. He either will or he won’t. 

The space gets smaller, then larger, jagged edges of rock cutting into the path. This wasn’t an entrance, as far as Annabeth can tell, but it’s the only way in she’s found so far. Everything else has been long since blocked off by time. Earthquakes, rockslides, storms, erosion, all of the above. It’s proper cave diving because of it, something that Percy has infinitely more experience in.

She reaches the air pocket and pops her head out. She takes a breath of stale, cave air and waits. A faint light grows steadily brighter.

Percy’s head pops above the water. He lets his rebreather drop from his mouth.

“Holy shit,” he says. “Annabeth, this is—”

Annabeth reaches through the water and grabs onto his rebreather with her left hand. Her right hand is busy clutching her own. They’re both attached to their diving tanks, obviously, but…

His hand covers her own. “I’ve got it,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.”

Annabeth yanks her hand back. “Right,” she says. “Did you see the arch? I’m thinking 4,500, maybe earlier.”

Water drips from the low ceiling above them onto Percy’s diving mask. He doesn’t even blink.

“Plato said 9,600,” he teases.

“I know what Plato said.” Annabeth rolls her eyes. “What did he know?”

“4,000,” Percy says, shaking his head, “is neolithic settlers in Thera, precursors to the Minoans. Annabeth, that’s…that’s—”

“—the Older Peron,” she finishes. “The timing makes perfect sense, but I think there was something else. I mean, look at where we are. There were the rising sea levels during Holocene Epoch, sure, but—”

“—it was never at sea level,” Percy realizes. He gestures around them, splashing her with water. “It was already below sea level. Which is why—”

“—the rise was so devastating,” Annabeth continues, building on his enthusiasm. “They had fortifications of natural rock but—”

“—they were effectively trapped when the levels rose unexpectedly!” His voice echoes off the walls around them. “We’ve been going deeper and deeper this whole dive.”

“Probably a storm,” Annabeth says. “It was gradual, and then a big storm caught them off guard. They…they probably starved, if they didn’t drown. Those who didn’t made their way to Crete and kicked off the Bronze Age.”

The slow drip of water is the only sound between them for a long moment. 

“Where’d you find the pottery?” Percy finally asks.

“Up ahead. Ten minutes, maybe.”

“Is it all submerged?”

“I don’t know,” Annabeth admits. “Maybe, maybe not. I called you as soon as I had anything concrete.”

He takes his mouthpiece out of the water and slots it between his lips. Annabeth does the same, then heads back under to show him the way. She’s so excited to show him that she can barely even feel how the water has gotten gradually colder during their dive. It had freaked her out, her first few times trying to navigate the crags of the cave. 

Caves are always cold. It’s why they have wetsuits. Annabeth only wishes it wouldn’t take so goddamn long for her to warm up again once she was above the surface.

//

NYT: Your preliminary article talks a lot about the Holocene epoch. What does that have to you with your discovery?

PJ: Right, yeah, so that’s—we’re in that right now. That’s our current geological epoch. It’s an interglacial period equivalent to MIS 1, and started around 11,700 years ago. Basically, ‘Holocene’ is two Ancient Greek words smushed together meaning an ‘entirely new’ age. In terms of, like, humanity, it’s when all of our written history and technological revolutions have happened. It’s all happened since the last ice age ended those 12,000 years ago. In terms of my research—which is our research, really—it’s thinking about the impact of the vast warming of the planet after the last ice age and what that might be able to tell us about pre-Minoan civilizations in the Mediterranean.

NYT: Are you talking about global warming? I think of that being a lot more recent than 12,000 years ago.

PJ: Eh. It’s kinda relative. Pretty much anything is global warming after an ice age, you know? We do split the Holocene into three main eras of slight cooling and warming, but our sweet spot is around 7,500 years ago, when the Mediterranean especially was having to deal with rapid sea level rise and colder waters. Can I be honest with you, dude?

NYT: Of course. 

PJ: Everyone thought we were f****** crazy.

//

Later, back on the boat, Mitchell throws together some PB&Js for them to devour. The two of them eat quickly, tired from the dive, and don’t speak. Mitchell always uses a little too much peanut butter, and it sticks to the roof of Annabeth’s mouth, but that isn’t why she stays quiet.

There’s a lot between them besides the silence.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” she eventually says, staring at the unassuming point of rock above the water. Just a rock that was really the cave that held the answer she’d spent her life searching for. Will they call it Chase Cave? Probably not, at this point. She’s glad. Something about that smarts—her greatest achievement marked by her father’s name.

“Is it?” Percy asks. His hair is wet, mussed up from when he yanked off his hood. There’s still a faint red oval around his eyes and nose.

She turns to face him more fully. They’ve never worn jewelry when they went in the water, and earlier she’d caught the faint tan line around the fourth finger of his left hand. He still wears it, or wore it recently enough to still have its mark.

Annabeth looks back to the rock. It’s much easier to stare at. “Almost,” she says.

//

NYT: Where do you go from here? Back to Berkley? Columbia? Are you staying in Greece?

PJ: Honestly… [Laughs] anywhere that offers us a tenure track. We’re open to suggestions! Our RateMyProfessor scores are through the roof, man. At this point, I’d even say yes to NYU.

//

“Berkley’s funding you?” Percy asks.

Annabeth nods, swallowing the mouthful of wine she’d been letting sit in her mouth. It’s easy to get lost in it—early signs of the sunset, Percy backlit by it all, wearing a loose blue shirt with the collar open so she can see his collarbones, her necklace nestled right in the middle. Missing him has been as frequent as breathing. She doesn’t quite know how to handle having him right across the table from her.

“Damn.” His mouth twists in that charming, trying-not-to-smile way. “What a coup.”

Annabeth snorts. “Right? I don’t know that she’ll ever talk to me again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Percy grabs an olive from their shared plate and pops it in his mouth. “She’s going to milk your relationship for every grant she applies for until the day she retires. Or dies.”

“Fuck.” Annabeth takes a larger sip of wine and closes her eyes. “You’re right. Goddamn it.”

“Hey, it’s been known to happen.” She opens her eyes again just in time to see the smile slip properly onto his face. “Good thing she made sure that you didn’t share any kind of name.”

Annabeth raises her wine. Percy grabs his water and follows suit, his tan-lined finger wrapping around the glass. “To Dr. Sofia Athena,” Annabeth says. “A name that has had no lasting impact on the study of archeology and the world’s shittiest mother.”

“Hear hear!” 

They clink their glasses and drink. 

The sun sinks below the ocean, pink orange red streaked across the sky, and below the table Percy rests the length of his leg against her own. 

//

Percy kept waking up with bruises on his wrist, his forearm, along the edge of his ribs. She never remembered grabbing him that tightly, hadn’t roused from sleep for a moment, didn’t even know that she was capable of gripping him like that.

She kept thinking about his life before she came into it, kept thinking about his childhood and his aversion to alcohol, and kept spending her mornings throwing up bile.

He held her hair back. He kissed the space behind her ear. He took it all, right up until the day she left.

//

They leave the restaurant as dusk slips into evening. Everything drips blue, and they could go back to the ramshackle house Annabeth’s been renting for three weeks and go to sleep. They should, really. Tomorrow all of the difficult stuff starts, the phone calls and the grant applications and fierce defense of their life’s work. 

But Percy takes a deep, sucking breath in, and his hands in his pockets. He lets it out again, a satisfied sigh, and jerks his head towards the horizon invitingly, and Annabeth already knows she’s going to agree to whatever he’s going to ask. 

“What?” She asks. 

“Want to go for a walk?” He asks. “It’s a beautiful night.” 

He’s right. She wants to. Still, she hesitates. 

“On the beach?”

“Why not? There’s a sandy bit down there.”

Annabeth can think of at least seven reasons that they really should not. Up against Percy’s relaxed posture and open expression, none of them put up a fight. 

“Alright,” she agrees. 

He doesn’t offer his hand, so she doesn’t take it, but when they start to walk towards the shore, their elbows brush with every other step. 

//

“Don’t be ridiculous, Annabeth.”

Annabeth’s head snaps back. “I’m not being ridiculous,” she says.

Her mother shoots her a look, her face half obscured by her office’s desktop monitor. “You’re turning one of Plato’s metaphors into a pipe dream of a discovery. It’s not like you.”

Annabeth takes a deep, controlled breath in. “I’m not basing the entirety of my research on Plato.”

“You’ve found another source that references Atlantis?”

“Not exactly,” Annabeth admits begrudgingly. “But—”

“Annabeth.”

“Just because they don’t call it the same thing that Plato did—”

“Lower your voice, please,” her mother says, turning her focus back to her computer. She starts to type, her face impassive.

Annabeth seethes. Quietly. “The study of Stone Age civilizations always requires careful historiographical reading into the Bronze and Iron ages. Their interpretation of history is a valid course of investigation for today’s scholarship.”

Her mother sighs and closes her eyes for a brief, devastating moment. “You’re a promising archeologist, Annabeth, but…”

Always a but. 

“...these caves, and the diving, well…” Her mother finally gives her undivided attention. “It’s not difficult to see where you got the idea.”

Annabeth digs the fingernails of her left hand into her palm and tries her best to keep the tears at bay. “I’m not plagiarizing research ideas.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“This research project just happened to pop up right as you started seeing a scuba diver? That’s a sheer coincidence?”

“He’s not a—”

“Oh, he wears an anklet.”

“He’s a marine archeologist! That’s literally part of your department.”

“They’ve tacked on an adjective before the word ‘archeologist.’ Is that supposed to—”

Annabeth slams her binder down on her mother’s desk, a savage satisfaction building in her chest at finally being the one who gets to interrupt. “I’m not debating this with you,” she says, her voice filled with finality. “My research has to do with Pre-Minoan Thera and early Bronze Age art and documentation. Read it or don’t. If you don’t fund me, someone else will.”

Her mother rises from her seat in one graceful movement, her eyes dark and swirling storm clouds. Annabeth realizes that they’re the same height; she’d never noticed that before.

“Who approached you?” Her mother asks. “USC? BU?”

Annabeth lets the smile that stretches across her face be as bitter as it wants to be. “I’m a Chase,” she says. She knows it’s a twist of the knife. “Who wouldn’t fund me?”

//

The sand is cold between her toes. The wind off the water is warm and makes Percy’s shirt flap around and hug the contours of his torso for brief, devastating moments. Annabeth focuses on putting one foot in front of the other and not on the way this whole night has felt like a date.

“I kind of want to get in,” Percy says. 

“What?”

“The water,” he clarifies. “I want to get in. Don’t you?” 

Annabeth gapes at him. It’s only been three months. He went in with her earlier, even followed her into a cave, but this is different. This is a walk along the beach with their shoes in their hands and stupid small talk that hasn’t been getting at any of the things they should probably be working through.

Percy drops his flip-flops. He only has to undo one more button to be able to pull his shirt off over his head. Annabeth keeps looking—obviously—as he shucks off his pants and adds them to the pile, too. 

There are little slices of pizza decorating his boxers. 

There’s a tiny, innocuous breath of hesitation. Is he thinking about stripping all the way down? Is he balking now that he’s facing the might of the ocean? 

In the end, he goes towards the water confidently, his boxers still on, and calls back once his ankles are submerged. “You coming?”

Annabeth slips the straps of her dress over her shoulders and lets it fall to the sand, kicking it over to join Percy’s pile of clothes. After her own moment of hesitation, she slips the chain around her neck off and wraps it around her hand, clutching the bulk of it tight in her palm. She won’t leave it on the beach, but she won’t lose it to the ocean, either. 

By the time she’s up to her calves, Percy’s already dunked himself under and come back up again, hair slicked back and water dripping down his chest. He’s got a slight t-shirt tan she hadn’t noticed before.

“How far do you want to go out?” She asks him.

“We’ll freeze if we stay like this,” he says, goosebumps all along his arms with his wet torso exposed to the breeze. A tiny wave crashes right behind him and sends him staggering a foot or so. “Past the break?”

The wave hits her next, soaking through her bra and splashing salt up onto her cheeks. “Sure.”

They wade out together and dive through the next wave in perfect unison. When she comes back up, brushing the water out of her eyes, all that’s left of it are bubbles bursting against her skin. The water settles around her shoulders; when she looks over, Percy’s eyes are lined up perfectly with hers. Bending his knees, probably. Staying under the water to stay warm, or stay on her level, or some mixture of the two. 

“Warmer than I thought,” Annabeth admits.

Percy smiles. She wishes the moon would rise, so she could see the emerald cut of his eyes better. “That’s almost like saying I was right.”

“Almost,” she agrees, smiling right back. 

“We probably could’ve stripped all the way down. When in Rome, and all that.”

“We’re not on Naxos.” She shudders. “Never again.”

That makes him laugh, finally. “Come on, it was a cultural exchange!”

“A-bah-bah,” Annabeth tuts, raising a finger. “It’s one of the sacred three.”

Percy rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Ice water, air conditioning, and we don’t have to look at wrinkly old dudes naked. U-S-A, U-S-A.”

“And don’t forget it.”

“How could I?” He replies softly. 

Annabeth resists the urge to curse. There goes their lighthearted small talk. 

She dreams of Naxos. Not of the famous nude beaches or Percy laughing at her horrified expressions, but of the crisp white sheets of their hotel room and the faint red imprints of her teeth against the perfect bronze of his tan. She dreams of the purest conversations they’ve ever had, the ones they had crammed together on their Juliet balcony and the ones that passed with skin pressed close and no words spoken at all. 

The dreams are always exact mirrors of memory, flawless from start to finish, loving and being loved. She never wakes up before an orgasm or before the sun had finally risen that first morning and lit up the muscles of Percy’s back like a goddamn Yuriy Petrenko painting. It’s complete contentment, morning breath and a sort of pulled hamstring halfway through, no detail lost.

But she always wakes up, and Percy’s not there, and reality feels like a nightmare.

“You’re not wearing your ring,” Percy breathes out.

“Neither are you.”

“I took it off to dive.” His head tilts, just slightly, and Annabeth’s eyes slide down his neck to her necklace. She catches the smallest glint of metal through the water and clenches her fist around her own ring, so tightly that the chain digs into the meat of her hand. 

“So did I,” she says.

His mouth quirks up. “Okay.”. 

“San Diego,” she starts, weirdly confident from the wine or the quiet or Percy being right in front of her again. “Did you get an—”

“I’m still on sabbatical. Staying with Tyson.” A wave laps up and covers his chin for a second. “He says hi, by the way.”

“He’s good?”

“Mhm. Trying to teach me pottery.”

Annabeth grins. “Are you any good?”

“Obviously not. It’s better than, like, baby goat yoga with Grover.”

“So that’s why you’re not in Portland.”

“Uh, that and the human baby they’re very enthusiastically trying to create. Barf.”

She splashes him in the face. “Shut up. What? Since when?”

He spits the water that got into his mouth out in a beautiful arch. “I can’t believe he told me before you! Like, a few months now. I think they maybe kept it hush-hush because…”

The waves crash against the sand. Annabeth knows what he was going to say. She can hear it in the squint of his eyelids, the exact angle tilt of his eyebrows. It’s kind of comforting—she still knows how. 

“That’s amazing,” she says, her voice quiet. “He’s going to be such a good dad.”

A swell of water builds towards them, and their toes leave the sand in the same moment, the tiniest push to keep their chins above the surface. 

“He accidentally synced our Google calendars,” Percy admits after a second. There’s a dangerous kind of glint in his eye, the one that Annabeth has always been a little bit in love with. “They, like, scheduled it.”

Annabeth gasps. “No.”

He nods, dunking half of his face in the process. “I know so much about Juni’s ovulation cycle that I can’t unlearn—”

“Percy!” Annabeth objects, as though she’s not laughing through it. “That’s such a violation of their privacy—”

“It’s not like I wanted to know it!” He laughs right back. “Grover apologized, like, six times. Juni called to ask if we ever did any fertility rituals. I did not need that boundary broken.”

Annabeth covers her face with one hand and ducks herself under the water. The muted sounds, the sting of the salt, the knowledge that she could reach out and touch him—she breaks the surface again. “Why would we have done a fertility ritual? We don’t have kids!”

“I think maybe she thought we’d done one to prevent it. Anti-fa, right?”

“I know you know that’s not what that is.”

His straight face breaks. “You thought it was funny, though.”

“No comment.” 

“Hey, don’t be mad. I told her our sexytime is exclusively based on passion. No scheduling involved.”

Annabeth wrinkles her nose. “A good excel spreadsheet is kind of hot, though.”

“Oh my god.”

“Like, a color-coded one.” She rolls back her eyes and moans. “With tabs.” 

It’s so easy to tease him, so natural to fall back into their rhythm, to turn off the filter in her brain and let the conversation go wherever it’s going to. It’s so easy to forget why they were half a world away from each other. 

He splashes her this time, only she’s already laughing, eyes closed and ready for it. She hears his laughter join hers before she sees it, low and infectious. 

Annabeth could stay here forever, high on her life’s mission accomplished and Percy right in front of her, both of their heads above the water, both of them laughing. She would make this second of air stretch on forever, only then she wouldn’t get what comes next.

She opens her eyes against the sting of the salt and sees him, the jut of his collarbone above the foam, his hair curling a little bit around his ears where it’s beginning to dry. She could look at him forever, watch as the crinkles around his eyes go soft and fade, as his mouth settles from a grin into something smoother, more familiar.

“Wanna kiss you,” he mumbles. The waves push him closer, or he moves closer, or Annabeth does.

“I thought we based our sexytime exclusively on passion,” Annabeth responds.

The heat of Percy’s torso presses up against hers. “Don’t be a dick,” he whispers.

Percy’s mouth slides hot against hers, rough-soft in the very particular way he always is, and waves lap at their shoulders and Annabeth thinks something about baptism and then thinks about nothing at all for as long as she’s able.

//

“Sometimes I think we never got out,” she whispers to him one night. 

They’re wrapped around each other in the blaring light from both of their nightstands. It’s some time past three in the morning.

“Like, this is all a dream?” He asks.

“No.” She presses her nose against his chest, breathes him in. “I just still feel it. I started down there and it never stopped.”

She feels the breath shudder out of him. “Yeah,” he agrees.

..