#or fitting enough to be okay in the heat but i need a binder. and binders make me BOILING

[infectbait]

shout out to midsize people and people with wildly fluctuating weights trying to dress comfortably this summer they dont make it easy do they

[bangchansdirty-slut]

do you take writing requests? if so would you write something with a FTM reader who hasn't had any surgeries?

Paring: Bangchan x FTM reader

Genre: Fluff

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: Hey! I'm sorry for the delay, but I just wanted to ensure that this trans reader fic was the best it could be. Also, my requests are open!

Chris had been dating Y/n for a couple of months now. They were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, and things were going surprisingly well. Chris, who was completely oblivious to Y/n's trans identity, thought he had found the man of his dreams. Little did he know that he was about to have the most unforgettable night of his life.

As the hours passed, they ate dinner and watched TV, growing increasingly comfortable in each other's company. Eventually, Chris, who was exhausted from a long day himself, decided that it would be best if Y/n stayed over, knowing that it would be late by the time Y/n got home.

Y/n was hesitant to spend the night at Chris's house. He didn't want Chris to find out about his trans status, as he was afraid of being judged or rejected. But after a long day of work, and with Chris's insistence, he finally agreed to stay over.

They continued to watch TV, cuddling on the couch. It wasn't long before Chris began to feel tired himself, and he suggested that Y/n might be more comfortable sleeping in his room. Y/n, who was already feeling quite comfortable and safe with Chris, agreed.

As they headed to the bedroom, Chris couldn't help but notice how big some of his clothes were. He offered Y/n one of his oversized hoodies and a pair of boxers, which were both easily large enough to fit Y/n's slender frame. They climbed into bed, and after a few moments of fidgeting, Chris fell asleep almost instantly.

Y/n, however, found it difficult to relax. He had been used to sleeping in his own bed, and the unfamiliar surroundings made him feel self-conscious. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, trying to find a position that would allow him to sleep peacefully. As he lay there, he debated whether or not to take off the clothes Chris had given him and put his own binder back on.

Eventually, he decided that it was best to put it off until later. He didn't want to risk waking Chris up. Instead, he tried to focus on the warmth of Chris's body pressed against his back and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, Y/n began to drift off to sleep.

It was during one of these moments of semi-consciousness that Y/n felt something brush against his chest. He froze, unsure of what was happening. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Chris's hands resting on his chest, cupping his breasts. Y/n was horrified and tried to push Chris away, but his strength was sapped by sleep. He covered his chest with his arms, trying to hide his feminine features from Chris.

Chris looked confused and apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He pulled his hands away, and Y/n could feel the heat in his cheeks as he tried to compose himself.

"It's okay," Y/n said, trying to sound more convincing than he felt. "It's just… a bit weird, that's all." He forced a small smile, hoping to reassure Chris that everything was okay.

Chris looked at Y/n for a moment, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "Chris," Y/n said hesitantly, "I need to tell you something. Something important."

Y/n felt a chill run down his spine. He knew what was coming. He braced himself for the worst, but he couldn't bring himself to look Chris in the eye.

"I'm trans," Y/n said softly, barely able to admit it even now. "I was born a girl, but I've always identified as a man. I'm sorry if I didn't make that clear before." He waited for Chris's reaction, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

There was a long silence. Y/n's eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, afraid to meet Chris's gaze. He could feel the weight of Chris's judgment pressing down on him. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Chris spoke.

"I… I don't understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Y/n winced. "I was scared," he admitted. "I didn't want you to think any differently of me. I was just trying to be myself, you know? And I thought… maybe if I could just blend in, be invisible, then you wouldn't notice. But I was wrong."

Chris was silent for a moment, as if he were trying to process the information. Y/n could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the tension in the air palpable. "You don't have to explain yourself," Chris finally said. "I mean… I might not understand everything, but I'm not going to judge you."

Y/n felt a mixture of relief and trepidation at Chris's words. He knew that Chris was trying to be understanding, but he couldn't help but feel like he'd be disappointed or disgusted. "I'm sorry if I misled you," he said, his voice still shaky. "I just wanted to be your boyfriend, and I didn't want to ruin that."

Chris shifted in the bed, pulling Y/n closer. "You could never ruin that," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "I care about you, Y/n, and that's not going to change. I may not know everything about what it means to be trans, but I'm willing to learn. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

Y/n felt a lump form in his throat. It was everything he could've hoped for. Chris's understanding and acceptance meant more to him than he could ever express. He let out a shaky breath, taking in Chris's words and the warmth of his embrace. "Thank you," he managed to whisper. "Thank you so much."

They lay there in silence for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms. Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew that there would still be challenges ahead, but he wasn't alone. He had Chris by his side.

As the morning light began to filter through the curtains, Y/n found the courage to turn his head and look at Chris. His eyes were still closed, but there was a softness to his features that Y/n hadn't noticed before. He studied Chris's face, taking in the familiar lines and contours that had always drawn him in. It was then that Y/n realized how much he truly loved Chris.

"I love you, Chris," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he waited for Chris to respond. After a moment, Chris opened his eyes and looked at Y/n, a smile spreading across his face.

"I love you too, Y/n," he replied, his voice gentle and sincere. "You have no idea how much." And with that, they kissed. It was a tender, loving kiss that felt like the beginning of something new. Something beautiful.

[genderqueerdykes]

Any tips for surviving the summer/heat? I think I'm probably going to ask for clinical antiperspirant but I'm so fucking sweaty all the time. I do still have times where I'm cold, (mild anemia and inconsistent with my vitamin lol), but if I wear too many layers I get hot and sweat thru all my clothes the summer has truly been awful. I do acknowledge that some of my clothes might not be the most breathable either but like man...

Thankfully it's cooling down but now I have to figure out how to layer without getting damp.

you know, that's a good question, because i struggle with temperature regulation, myself! i've had to figure a lot of it out on my own

testosterone can cause a lot of hot flashes in the early stages, and when doses are missed or late, so it's good to assess how you feel on a given day before trying to do a lot of things outside. you may have to shift your plans around depending on when you're having hot flashes, but they also may be mild. clinical antipersperant very well be a good idea and it's good to check in with your HRT provider if you can look into whether or not this will be a long term thing or if you just need some treatment short term

layering very light clothing can be helpful if you need to bind or cover your chest but also dont want to run the risk of getting too hot, although i usually wear one incredibly thin layer. you may be able to get away with fairly short shorts or tank tops, but it's going to depend on what your needs are when it comes to dysphoria

try to make sure you've eaten some food before heading out into heat. not a ton but just enough to make sure your body isn't fighting for resources because i find chills and hot flashes are way worse when my body at least has something in my stomach. it's also way more likely to get nauseous from being heat sick if you are already feeling unwell in the stomach

i use a parasol sometimes and ive used an umbrella in the past when walking around a lot on foot in the sun. i don't care if anyone thinks that looks "dumb" a lot of people need to shade themselves from the sun, that's okay. sun screen will help a lot if you're able to get some, at the very least it will help the surface of your skin from overheating and contributing to your overall increase in temperature and sweating

if you're using a binder try to take breaks when and where possible so you don't overheat, start chafing, struggle to breathe, etc. even if you can go into a public bathroom stall and take it off and just breathe for a while that's better than nothing. it can become really easy to overheat or begin sweating excessively if you're wearing a binder

if you pack, try to take breaks with this as well, and if it's really hot, you may want to consider leaving it at home whenever you can as you don't want to get chafing in your genital region. wearing menstrual pads in the heat can also cause this to happen, sometimes poorly fitting underwear can do it too. this area gets very hot and sweaty so you don't want anything there that can trap in excessive heat. it is in fact okay to air out your crotch, too. people get weird about this but it's an area of the body that traps in heat and moisture. you have to spread your legs pretty damn far to actually be a problem

try to avoid traditional backpacks if you can, they're huge and they trap in heat and moisture on your back which can make you even more miserable. try to carry water on you whenever possible, especially if it can be chilled in a container and kept cold for a long time. you may find that you want to try to drink more electrolyte drinks (Gatorade, Powerade, Pedialyte, etc.) as you sweat more, as the increased sweating from testosterone will cause you to lose additional electrolytes which are necessary. if you're sweating a lot, don't drink just water, try to get some electrolyte drinks in there, because your body won't hydrate itself as well without a good balance of electrolytes

try not to carry too many things so that you don't get tired or weighed down from having a lot of heavy things on your person. when being anemic and chronically ill a lot of small things can take up a lot of energy, so try to travel light when and where possible so you're not exerting extra energy just carrying things. you can also try to consume chilled things like drinks or cold foods while outside in the sun, which can help if you start to feel overheated

if anyone else has any advice, feel free to chip in! i wish you good luck, i'm very sensitive to heat and the sun so i get it. stay safe out there, if you have any more questions feel free to ask

[mandoalorian]

Din Djarin NSFW Alphabet

Notes: 18+ only. AFAB reader. Reader discretion advised. As always, reblogs mean the world to me. If you want to support my writing there is a link to my Ko-Fi in my bio!

Word count: 2500 words.

Masterlist

**NSFW content under cut!**

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’ll stay with you and hold you tight. He’ll ask you if you’re okay and if you need anything. It’s only a short walk to the refresher. He might get you a glass of water, and always, he’ll bring a wet washcloth out to wipe you down and clean you up. He can get quite intimate after sex and he’ll wrap his strong arms around your body and pull you close into the heat of his chest. He’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you both inevitably fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You love his back. He’s broad shouldered, lean and muscular. You love gliding your hands over his skin and squeezing him. When he’s on top, you dig your fingers into his back, subconsciously scratching and clawing at him. In a way, he likes the pain. You nearly always leave a mark on him and it’s nice to come back to, day after day. In the mornings he covers himself up and goes out to complete bounties, but there is something extremely satisfying about knowing that the esteemed and intimidating Mandalorian hunter is marked by you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Din cums a lot. Although he wasn’t a virgin when you met, he didn’t really have the luxury of getting off with others. He was always too busy, out doing bounties or travelling the galaxy with Grogu. This changed though, when he met you. Now, you’re pretty aware of how large his load is. You love it when he cums inside of you and you feel his warm seed fill you up completely. It can stay in you for the entire day. Din will fuck you in the morning and then pull your panties back up, forcing you to keep his cum inside of you until nightfall. When he takes your panties off in the evening, it’s always a pleasant surprise to see his cum still dripping out of your pretty hole.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to face fuck you. You give him blowjobs on the regular but he always lets you take your time. It’s nice when you’re in control, and it makes a difference from his usual hectic day-to-day lifestyle. But he dreams of thrusting into your pretty little mouth and tracing the bulge of his fat cock in your throat. He wants you to gag around him and see a mixture of his cum and your saliva mess up your face. He knows you can take it deep, he just hasn’t found the confidence yet to talk to you about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yeah, he has experience. He hasn’t had many sexual partners but he’s done it before and he knows his way around your body. He will spend a lot of time with you, practicing how to make you moan and cum in different ways. He’s probably the least experienced with giving oral but that’s okay because he’s proficient and always been a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to pin you against the wall and take you from behind. When he’s not too tired, he can go for a while, standing up and fucking you. He also likes it when he’s laying down and you're on top, riding him. You’ll notice he tilts his head up, just ever so slightly, so he can get the best view of your tits bouncing up and down as you grind over his manhood. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s serious for the most part. He can crack a smile now and again, when he’s lost in the moment. Especially during sensual sex, when he’s on top and looking down on you. But you can never see it anyway since he’s face is always shielded by the beskar helmet. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No, he doesn’t groom himself. He often forgets to shave his face, hence the patchy stubble he dons most of the time. Shaving foam can be quite pricey and credits are hard to come by these days, so, grooming his pubic hair is probably the last thing on his mind. And that’s okay, you don’t mind the dark brown curls down there. He’s not a naturally hairy guy, so despite him having a little pubic hair, it’s not too overbearing. You love kissing the little trail of hair from his navel down to the hem of his underpants.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very romantic. It takes a lot of going backwards and forwards to develop a romantic relationship with Din, and it takes a lot for him to trust you. But when he does, he’ll be completely open with you and he’ll make it known how much he loves you and appreciates you. He does this through the whispering of sweet nothings in your ear, caressing and nibbling your skin in the most tender ways. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before he met you, he jacked off whenever he got the time. Just because he didn’t have sex on a regular basis, didn’t mean he was immune to sexual desire. It got pretty messy too. After he met you, you began to consume his every thought and he was completely smitten with you. Every night he’d lock himself in the refresher room of the Crest and get off to the thought of you, even getting into the habit of moaning out your name right before he spilled his seed along the shower wall.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s actually quite into BDSM. He wants to tie you up with rope or his binders, and blindfold you. He likes to bend you over his lap and give you a few harsh spankings, enough to leave a mark.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Most of the time, you both do it on the Crest. And it’s okay. His bed is small and the floor is hard but he doesn’t mind it either way, as long as he can be with you. He does, however, like it when he’s in the pilot seat and you sit on his lap and warm his cock. One of his favourite memories was saving up enough credits and taking you to the luscious greens of Naboo. He paid for a suite in one of the most beautiful hotels and you went at each other the entire night. The bed was so soft and warm and he let himself get tangled up in the satin sheets without a care in the world. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he hopes that one day, he gets the opportunity and the credits to do something like that again.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

This one time, you were joking around. You grabbed his cape and clipped it around your neck and even fitted his beskar chest plate onto your own body. You walked around the Crest holding his pulse rifle like you owned it. You only did it out of desperation to get Din to laugh, or even just crack a smile, but seeing you in his clothes ignited something primal in him and all he wanted to do was pin you against the wall and fuck you without mercy. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never, ever want to hurt you. You coming into any kind of danger is one of his biggest fears and he will dedicate his whole life protecting you from uncomfort and injury. Because of this, he could never be the one to cause you said injury or uncomfort. He wants the experience to be pleasant for both of you, with no lasting effects. He likes it when you struggle to walk the day after, and he likes seeing you bruised up from love bites or the firm grip of his gloved fingers, but that’s really the extent of it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Truthfully, you give more than you receive. Obviously, Din can’t take off his helmet. However he loves the taste of you. It just means he has to do it when there are no lights on, or he has to find you a blindfold. When he gets the chance, he absolutely loves going down on you but it just doesn’t happen all too often. Surprisingly though, Din is great at oral and he is sure to give you an experience you’ll never forget. He always has you yearning for more and he loves to tease and edge you with his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It varies! Sometimes all Din needs is a quick fuck -- and he’s a very busy man so it’s just something you have to accept. But recently, sex has been lasting a little longer. He’s been taking his time and made a habit of becoming more intimate with you. He is definitely capable of showing his compassion during these private times and you like seeing the softer, more sensual side to him a lot.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Before bounties. After bounties. Whenever he has to leave and there is a risk of harm or danger, you’ll give him a quickie so he for sure has something to remember you by. He could be gone for a few days, or weeks, so by the time he returns, you’re often both riled up and filled with sexual desire. So it’s another quickie just to satisfy that burning need. He’ll take you against the wall and rail you until your knees feel weak and you can’t stand. He’ll growl into your ear and tell you how much he’s missed you and how glad he is to feel the heat of your cunt clench around him again.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He risks his life every single day. So during his downtime, and the moments he’s in the bedroom with you, he prefers to not take too many risks. Like I mentioned earlier, he doesn’t want to endanger you in any way possible. But if there’s something in particular that you’ve been longing to try, Din will be pretty game to do it. All you have to do is vocalize it and tell him how much you want it. He will always put your safety first.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for quite a while. Sex with Din, when it’s not a quickie, can average at around an hour each time. He loves to take his time with you and he wants to get as many orgasms out of you as he can. He sees it as a challenge.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrators, mostly. He even has a small silver one that he likes you to use on the tip of his cock. Also you managed to pick up a butt plug from one market a few weeks ago and he’s been aching to try it on you. You haven’t tried anal yet but it’s something Din is definitely interested in. You agreed to try out the plug as a little teaser before you feel like you can take his whole cock. He’s had dreams of stuffing both your holes and watching tears prick your eyes as the sensation overwhelms you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease you a lot, and you like to tease him too. It’s a little game you both have going on. He adores foreplay and edging you. In the moment, when all you want to do is cum, it can be quite frustrating, but you love it nonetheless. He engages in cunningless, rubbing your bundle of nerves until your legs are shaking and you can’t take it anymore. And then he’ll pull his fingers away and watch you squirm as he deprives you of an orgasm.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not too loud, just like in usual day to day life, Din Djarin is a man of a few words. He moans and whimpers a lot, especially when he’s close. He pants pretty heavy and he’ll definitely make sure you know how good you make him feel. Not so much with words though. When he’s going down on you or pleasuring you he talks a little more. He asks you questions like, “you like that baby?” or “you want more sweet girl?”, and gets a thrill knowing that you’re so into it, you struggle to answer.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves to fuck you standing up. He loves to press you against the cool metal wall of the Crest and ruthlessly hammer you from behind. He’ll pin you there, grabbing your wrists so you quite literally can’t move, and he’ll dirty talk in your ear as he rails you. He’ll go fast and hard and it won’t take long at all for you to cum around his cock.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Oh he’s big. I’d say a solid 8 inches, and thick too. It’s the girth of him that gets you the most. The feeling of him stretching you open and filling you up is possibly one of the best feelings in the world. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, and it always has been. He can get hard pretty easily; and whenever he feels like he wants to go, he can go. If you’re horny and let him know that you want it, he’ll be ready to take you almost immediately. He yearns the most when you’re not there. Sometimes he’ll be out on a bounty, alone at night. He’ll be thinking of you back on the Crest, alone too. He’ll imagine you laying in his bed, masturbating, and whimpering out his name. He just can’t help himself.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He zonks out pretty fast. He’s a busy man, and if the bounty he went on earlier in the day didn’t tire him out, the sex sure will have. He will pull you into his strong arms, plant a sleepy kiss into your shoulder or the crook of your neck, and fall asleep. Din is for sure a big spoon.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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[trashyswitch]

Patton's Sugar Addiction

Patton has become way too addicted to sugar, to the point that Thomas is becoming affected mentally. And Logan is not having that. So, he comes to Patton's room to try to talk some sense into him. But...there's only so much sense you can explain to an impulsive little child who becomes childish and teasy when he doesn't get his way.

For Garcello (Hi!), @kanene-yaaay and forgetful-dortio

This was a fun fanfic to make! And...It's based on a personal experience...Without the tickling though, and not nearly as much sugar. But I did pig out on hot and cold creamy chocolate. And I have no regrets. ;)

If there is one thing Logan has always been good at, it’s identifying other people’s quirks and habits. And one quirk Logan knew all too well was Patton’s obsession with sugar.

From the time Patton was little, to when Patton started baking his own goods, Patton had grown increasingly more obsessed with sugar. At first, it start off as a little treat once a week. Then it grew to everyday desserts, to multiple sweet things a day. Soon, Logan had lost track of how much sugar Patton took in on a daily basis.

Logan didn’t fully know how much sugar he took in. But what he did know was that it was most likely too much. Even a tablespoon of sugar was too much for the human body. And Patton had already overtaken that obstacle long ago.

Now, Logan wouldn’t be looking at this issue as a problem if it weren’t for the effect Patton was having on Thomas...

One night, Logan had gotten up to go to the bathroom. As he walked to the bathroom, he noticed that Patton’s light was still on. It was currently 11:25, which wasn’t terrible...It was questionable at best. Logan walked to the door and placed his ear against it. It sounded like mumbled giggling and movie watching. Logan was gonna leave him alone when he realized something:

Mumbled giggling...Mumbled? Is Patton eating something?

Logan decided to do something he rarely does: Barge into his room. Logan walked into his room, took one look at Patton and shrieked!

Patton was eating a FULL TUB of cookies & cream ice cream, covered in caramel and chocolate sauce, mounted with whipped cream! It was a mountain of PURE SUGAR!

Surrounding the moral side was a big mug of hot chocolate, and 3 half-eaten chocolate bars.

“AAAH-” Patton coughed on his ice cream as bits of the liquid cream went down the wrong pipe. “Logan! Oh my goodness you scared me!”

Logan was staring at him, making the sugar calculations in his head. P-Patton-”

“Sorry Kiddo, I don’t think I heard you knock!” Patton put his tub down. “What’s going on? Do you wanna talk about it?”

Logan looked at the sugar pile. “Are...you feeling okay?” Logan asked.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, why?”

Logan pointed to all his chocolate. Patton turned around and looked at the chocolate. “Oh! Right.” Patton pushed all the chocolate bars and the tub into a desk drawer. “That’s nothing. Just felt like pigging out tonight.”

Logan walked into the room more and closed the door. “Your version of pigging out...is much worse than most people’s pigging out.” Logan told him.

Patton looked down guiltily. “I know that Lo…” Patton held his hands. “I’ve been...getting more sad and annoyed when I run out of the food that makes me happy. So I started buying large amounts of it to...help me get satisfied and full.” Patton explained.

“Patton...Do you realize how much sugar you’re taking in?” Logan asked.

Patton looked at the drawer with his half-eaten tub of ice cream and chocolate bars. “I...I lost count.”

Logan shook his head and walked closer. “I’m doing a sugar bust.” Logan declared as he opened the drawer.

“No NONONO WAIT-” Patton yelled, slamming the drawer shut. “No!”

Logan frowned. “Patton...let go of the drawer.” Logan ordered.

“No way!” Patton yelled back.

“Why?” the nerd asked.

“Because you’ll take it away from me!” Patton reacted.

“Yeah, because I’m worried about you.” Logan told him.

Patton sat his chair against the drawer to block it off. “If you love me, you’ll let me have this!” Patton told him.

“If I love you, I’d be doing this for the good of your health.” Logan said back.

“I’m a side! I can eat whatever I want without needing to watch my diet!” Patton argued.

“You are not stable like this!” Logan shot back.

“AND YOU ARE??” Patton yelled. “Mr. I feel no feelings?!”

Logan was taken aback. Did...Did he just insult him? Patton was NOT being himself at all.

“Organization makes you feel happy. And chocolate makes me feel happy! I never went around destroying your binders or paperwork!” Patton continued.

“You’re being ridiculous. I will not tolerate this unacceptable behaviour from you, Patton.” Logan said sternly.

Patton growled and tackled Logan right down to the ground. Logan yelped in fear as his back flopped against the ground. “PATTON LET GO OF ME!”

“You’re doing something that’s uncalled for! So now I’m gonna do something that’s uncalled for.” Patton declared before he started digging into Logan’s ribs.

Logan gasped and clenched his teeth tightly to prevent himself from givng Patton a chance to win. But oh boy...Patton was really going for an instinctive spot he could only control so much! And yes, Patton’s move was quite uncalled for. But it was also quite clever for Patton. Patton (unfortunately) knew exactly how to break any side. Even Logan.

Logan shook his head. “P-PAT THISISRIDICULOUS!” Logan shot at him through his clenched teeth.

“So is apprehending my stash of goodies!” Patton replied. “Now don’t make me go for the spot…”

Logan widened his eyes to the size of donuts. “You-youwouldn’t!” Logan reacted. He really wouldn’t, right?

“Ohohoho, I would. And I just might!” Patton declared.

Logan covered his armpits almost immediately to prevent Patton from getting to them. But Patton knew he would do this, and went for his neck instead.

“eEEEEHEHEK! Pahahat nohohoho!” Logan giggled.

“But Pat YES!” Patton leaned into Logan’s ab muscles, and blew a big raspberry: “PBBBbBbBFFBTBFT”

Logan finally couldn’t take it anymore. That raspberry threw Logan into enough of a frenzy to finally start laughing. “AAAAHAHAHAHAhehehehehe!”

Patton smirked to himself as he listened to the nerd’s laughter. It worked! Now to keep it going! Patton started skittering and scratching on Logan’s upper ribs and lifted up Logan’s arm. “I’m gonna getcha!” Patton teased.

“NOHOHO THIHIS IS UHUHUNCAHALLED FOHOHOR!” Logan yelled.

Patton only laughed evilly as he skittered his fingers slowly into Logan’s exposed hollow armpit.

Logan squeaked and fell into a fit of squeaky giggles. “Pahahahahat! Plehehehehehehease! Yohohou’re beheheing meeehehehehean!” Logan told him through the cute giggles he was letting out.

“Me? Mean?! Who was the one trying to steal from my precious stash a few minutes ago? Cause it certainly wasn’t me.” Patton reacted as he sped up the tickling to rapid speed.

“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOHOHOUR HEHEHEALTH PAHAHAHAT!” Logan yelled through his newfound laughter.

“Yeah, what about it?” Patton asked.

“IHIHI DOHOHON’T WAHAHANT YOHOHOU TOHOHO DIHIHIE!” Logan yelled.

Patton sighed. “Again...we’re sides. We don’t die.” Patton muttered out loud.

Logan was laughing up a storm with squeaks and giggles mixed in. This was so unfair! Why was Patton tickling him over his own sugar addiction? “BUHUHUHUT THOHOHOMAHAHAHAS!” Logan yelled.

“What about Thomas?” Patton asked, stopping his fingers.

Logan went limp, save for his one index finger that was raising up. “Thom-Thomas…*huff* ihis...behecomihihing...*huff*...un...unhealthy…*huff*...” Logan explained.

“Because of me?!” Patton reacted, placing his hand on his own chest. “How could that be?” Patton asked.

Logan’s hand flopped onto the carpet he was laying on. “Ihit’s...because…” Logan let out a big breath of air. “You’re increasing Thomas’s...craving for sweets.” Logan told him.

Patton tilted his head. “Am I?”

“Yes, a lot.” Logan explained. “Thomas has been ignoring my suggestions of something healthy due to ‘his cravings’. But...I can see why these cravings are coming up so often now.” Logan continued. “It’s you and your sugar addiction.”

“I wouldn’t call it an addiction...It’s more of a...taste preference.” Patton explained.

“A taste preference that you’re choosing so often that Thomas can’t keep himself together without a cookie or 20 to help him along the way.” Logan added.

Patton widened his eyes and covered his mouth. “Oh heavens…” Patton sat himself down and hummed as he looked at his butt. Patton stood back up and grabbed the item from his pocket.

Oh good lord it was another chocolate bar.

Logan noticed the almost cat-like look Patton developed when he saw the chocolate bar in his hand. “Paaaat...Paaat no!” Logan ordered.

Patton took one look at Logan and slowly ripped the top of the wrapper off the bar.

“Patton! I swear! You’ve had enough!” Logan reacted.

Patton slowly split the wrapper in half, and slowly separated the wrapper from the chocolate bar. “No I haven’t.”

Logan finally sprinted up to Patton. “GIVE IT HERE-” Logan skidded to a halt and rubbed his nose. “Did...Did you just shove the whole thing into your mouth?”

Patton stared at him and looked around with his cheeks more puffed out than a chipmunks cheeks of nuts. “Mm mm.” Patton hummed, shaking his head even though it was completely obvious that Patton had shoved the chocolate bar into his mouth.

Logan crossed his arms. “This is getting too far. Even for you.” Logan reacted. “This is more dangerous than Maleficent...Than- freaking SATAN! You’re being more dangerous than the devil right now!” Logan reacted, referring to his ‘and when I feel dangerous...eat a second cookie’ quote.

Patton narrowed his eyes and even hummed an offended sound. “How THARE-” Patton coughed a bit and started chewing. Half the chocolate bar was probably melted in his mouth by now thanks to the natural heat his mouth created.

Logan sighed and just let him chew. “Patton...I’m not gonna take the chocolate. But...I am going to try and help you control your urges to eat so much of it.” Logan told him.

Patton looked at him with a ‘you’d do that for me?’ kinda face and started to swallow.

“Just give me a chance to come up with a couple things. And...I may even start buying you your chocolates. Just...maybe have some variety.” Logan suggested.

Patton nodded as he chewed and swallowed.

“For example: nuts or berries. That way you’re getting some sort of valuable nutrients out of your snacks.” Logan decided.

Patton nodded as he swallowed his last bite with a sigh of content and a lick of the lips. “Mmmmm…”

Logan couldn’t help but snicker at this.

Patton turned to him. “What?” He asked with a smile.

“Nothing.” he put his hands up, with a small smile.

“Nothing? Nothing you say? After all of that?” Patton asked with an evil smirk on his face.

Logan’s small smile dropped into a look of pure nervousness. If he so much as said one thing, he was gonna die.

“Ooooooh...Thought staying silent would help you out huh?” Patton teased, sneaking closer. “I wonder...Which armpit would tickle more?”

Logan squeaked and covered his mouth as Patton moved closer and closer to Logan’s body. But then, things became even more flustering for Logan when Patton lifted up his arm again. “NO! NO NO NO NO PATTON!” Logan yelled. “STAAAAAAAA-”

Patton sighed and covered Logan’s mouth. “Get ahold of yourself.” Patton told him softly.

Logan stared at Patton.

Then Patton smirked and said a word:

“lee.”

Logan growled and covered his face.

Patton giggled and blew a raspberry into Logan’s ribs.

“AAEEHEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” Logan screamed, laughing into the side of his own arm.

Patton tickled up and down the ribs, specifically focusing on the upper ribs and armpits the most because...That was Pat’s favorite spot to tickle on Logan! Logan was a mixture of laughter and giggles with squeaks thrown in as well. “Awwwwww! You’re so cute when you’re being tickled!” Patton reacted. “Wanna know what my favorite raspberry spot is?” Patton asked.

Logan shook his head. “NOHOHOHO! NOHO RAHAHASPBEHEHERRIES!”

“Well too bad, I’m gonna tell you anyway:” Patton leaned in and blew a raspberry on his belly. “Right on the tum tum!”

Logan wheezed and snorted at least 3 times in a row as his laughter started back up again. His laughter was so solid, strong, and yet quite soft to listen to! It was a beautiful little combination, if Patty did say so himself.

Patton soon gave Logan a break to allow the man to breathe for a while. Logan went limp on the ground for a bit, and lifted his head up. “Hey Pat?”

Patton smiled at him as he ate another spoonful of melting ice cream. “Yes?”

Logan wheezed as he saw Patton eating the ice cream yet again. “If you label the ice cream and put it into the freezer…” Logan looked down in slight embarrassment. “I’ll...let you tickle me more.”

Patton couldn’t refuse such a delicious deal such as this!

Patton was gone and back in 5 minutes or less, and was back and ready to tickle even more of Logan with his slightly cold hands. “I hope you’re ready for the tickling of a lifetime, young man!” Patton teased.

Logan gave him a wobbly smile. He hoped he was ready for it too...

[one-chicago-fanfiction]

Gabby and Antonio: This Instinct to Run

Word Count: 2k

Summary: This story is set many years prior to the beginnings of all One Chicago shows. When Antonio tells Gabby he's having top surgery at last, the two of them share a difficult, interesting conversation.

Antonio Dawson was nervous. He was waiting for his sister in their usual spot—a diner on the corner, just a few blocks away from the house they grew up in. It had, for a while, been their after school place, mostly in the years where Gabby was too young to be home alone, and Antonio’s school bus took longer to get him home than her’s did. They were older now, and Antonio was nursing a coffee, slouched down in the seat, one knee up at his chest, the other leg stretched out before him. He probably didn’t look nervous, but his heart was slamming hard in his chest, and a sickly sort of adrenaline coursing through him.

They hadn’t seen a lot of each other lately, and it was starting to take a toll as far as Antonio was concerned. Gabby was taking classes, training as an EMT. Antonio’s heart, meanwhile, still pulled him towards the same two things it always had. One of those things was the Chicago police department, a dream he’d harboured for almost as long as he could remember. When he thought about how long it was taking him to get started in his career there, he ached as if he’d already lost something. There was a desperation there, thrumming under his skin, a voice telling him soon, soon…

But first, there was something else he needed to do, something even more important. This thing, this one last thing on his to do list before he could start the rest of his life? Antonio Dawson had never wanted anything more.

Gabby walked into the diner, and met his eye with a smile and a nod. She ordered herself a drink and slid onto one of the seats opposite him, pausing only to kiss his cheek before she pulled off her coat and sat down. Antonio sat a little straighter. There was so much of their mother in Gabby, and the smile he gave his loving, strong willed, incredible sister was small, nervous. Something flashed through her eyes, something like suspicion. She’d seen, right away, the thing he’d been trying to hide.

“Good to see you, sis,” he said. Gabby hummed, dismissing his attempt at pleasantries.

“What’s going on with you?” She asked, nodding thanks to the waiter who placed her coffee on the table between them. She took a long sip.

“What’re you talking about?” Antonio asked. “I’m all good.”

“Sure,” said Gabby, wiping foam from her top lip. “That’s why you’re all weird and—sweaty—right now.”

“I’m not...” Antonio started, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m not sweaty.”

“And I’m not stupid,” Gabby said. “This isn’t no casual catch up. I wanna know what’s going on.” As kindly as she said it, her unblinking gaze was a challenge, and one of the common themes of their childhood had been Gabby’s challenges, Antonio succumbing to them every time.

“Okay,” he said. “Fine. I have news. I was gonna build up to telling you this, you know? I was actually gonna ask how things are going with you.”

“You can ask me that after,” she said, then another swig of her coffee. Antonio could smell the sweetness of it from here. Pumpkin spice maybe. Damn October. A pang of envy struck him. He should have thought of that himself. He cleared his throat, pulled himself back to what mattered.

“Sure,” he said, a quick glance around the diner before he went on, talking a little quieter now. “Okay. I, uh…I got the money together for my top surgery. It’s finally gonna happen.”

“Woah,” Gabby said, eyes wide, pushing her coffee aside as she leaned in a little closer. “Woah, Antonio. That’s—amazing. Are you, uh—I mean—do you have a date yet?”

“Two months from now,” he said, unable to stave off his idiot grin, even with his heart pounding so hard. He wondered if he looked as unhinged as he was worried he did.

“That’s soon,” Gabby said.

“Not soon enough,” Antonio said. “Trust me.”

“So,” said Gabby, and paused. It unsettled him that she was taking her time, choosing her words so carefully. It was something he was getting slowly used to, the way his sister would hold herself back sometimes, like his coming out had undone some of the comfort between them, like she couldn’t just let herself be, in case she said something that stung him, as if he wasn’t able to come back from that. Like she didn’t completely know him anymore.

“So?” He prompted.

“So,” she said, “you’re ready, then? I mean…for all of…for everything?”

“All of it,” Antonio said. “I’m ready for all of it.” Gabby smiled.

“Then I’m happy for you.”

“Look,” said Antonio. “I know some of this has been weird for you, but I—“

“Hey, no,” said Gabby. “It’s not that, I just—“

“Would you let me finish?” He said, a fond smile on his face. Gabby yielded with a nod of deference, slouching in her seat now, the mirror image of her brother across the table.

“I just wanted to say I appreciate your support,” he said. “I mean…I also kinda wish you’d stop treating me like some fragile bird.” Gabby made a face.

“Fragile bird?”

“Honestly?” Antonio started. “Never thought I’d say this, but I kinda miss you messing with me all the time. Lately you’ve been treating me like I can’t handle that stuff. Is it, uh…Is it that you’re…”

“That I’m what?” She asked, watching him so intensely now that he had to take a breath just to steady himself.

“Okay,” he said. “Sometimes I’m scared that…I mean, sometimes it feels like, maybe, you don’t know how to talk to me anymore.”

“Antonio,” she said, and his mind jumped back to the first time he’d told her the name he’d chosen, the first time she repeated it back to him, setting it in stone for the both of them. “It’s not that. It’s just…okay, yeah, this is all new to me. I’m kinda learning as we go here. And I love you no matter what, and I want you to be happy. I’m not mom and dad. I’m not gonna try to push you back in the closet just so I can tell myself we’re a normal family. You’re my brother, and I know now—that’s who you’ve always been. It’s just...I guess I’m still getting used to the fact that I was wrong for so long.”

“Okay,” Antonio said, holding himself back from apologising, quiet and desperately proud for not saying it right there at the table. He’d apologised to their parents, to the couple of so called friends who didn’t get it, to the girlfriend who’d broken up with him, pretty much on the spot. At the first hint of her sadness, Antonio had made his apologies and left. But time had passed now, and his truth wasn’t something to apologise for anymore. He knew that now. Or, at least, there were moments when he knew it, and moments when he tried to.

Nobody deserved those apologies from him, and nobody else was going to get them. Not even Gabby.

“Just be patient with me,” Gabby said. “I really am trying.”

Antonio bristled a little, but forced a smile despite it. They’d always been close, always been the ‘Dawson Girls’ growing up, and Antonio had hated that term even before he truly understood why. He wondered if, despite knowing he was only one person, had only ever been one person, if Gabby was mourning him anyway, even as he sat opposite her.

“If you miss having a sister,” said Antonio, “just know you never really had one at all. Just the idea of it, that’s all.” Gabby made a face.

“Well, okay,” she started. “I get that, but for a long time there, that idea was my reality. It’s gonna take me longer than—“

“It’s been over a year,” Antonio said. He hadn’t expected this when they’d arranged to meet, this anger in him, the hot liquid shock of it coiling under his skin. Another living thing inside of him.

His transition was not a graveyard. He wasn’t burying his old self, wasn’t killing off some girl, someone’s daughter, someone’s sister. They hadn’t talked about it, but Gabby had mourned a little at every landmark of his transition. She’d celebrated with him of course, but he could sense the sadness in her too, quiet and hidden away. The day he came out to her, the day he started testosterone, the first day she noticed a drop in his voice. The binder he wore today was safe, and it fit him correctly, and now that he was on T it helped him pass in public, but it still felt like a prison.

Summer had passed, sticky and hot, and all the while Antonio had contended with the harsh fabric against his skin, his chest pressed impossibly flat against him, a miracle and a curse all at once. Working out was almost impossible, breathing too deeply ached, and the sight of other men effortless in tank tops, or shirtless in public—it stung him just to see it. He’d lost count of the summer days he’d spent whiled away inside, just so he didn’t have to bind in that heat, just so he didn’t have to come face to face with the things he needed to survive, and didn’t yet have.

His sister watched him from across the table, folded her arms across her chest. There was Dawson anger in her as well, and the barest hint of disappointment that only made Antonio want to get up and leave. He’d perfected that too—this instinct to run.

“Do you really think I’m like that?” Gabby asked. “You really think I’m not happy for you, just because I miss thinking I had a sister? Sometimes I do miss thinking that, but I have a brother now, and I wouldn’t change you for anything. All that stuff mom and dad think matters? It doesn’t. This does. We do.”

Antonio blinked. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s...that’s what I mean. I guess...I guess I just don’t like feeling like I’m something you have to settle for.” Gabby’s gaze hardened on him then. She was fierce, and wild—they both were, in a way, but Gabby was sharper at her edges, and stronger at her heart. Antonio swallowed hard.

“You are not a consolation prize, Antonio,” she said, and for a long moment afterwards, neither of them said anything. They just sat there, the Dawson siblings, eyes fixed on each other, just watching, waiting for one of them to break.

In the end, as was always the way among them, it was Antonio.

“Long story short,” he said, “I called you here to ask you something.”

“Sure,” said Gabby, reaching for her coffee once more, the tension going out of her, the air a little cooler and easier to breathe between them. Antonio felt his heartbeat calm a little too. He fixed his eyes on the table in front of him.

“Can I, uh…Can I stay with you for a while? After surgery I mean.” He glanced up to find Gabby smiling at him, watched as she reached across the table and punched him on the arm, as if they were kids again. “Ow.”

“Damn right you’re staying with me,” she said. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you.”

“There’s no one better,” he said, rubbing his arm. Gabby laughed.

“No one better to order me around,” she said, “than my big brother.”

“Will you listen to me, though?” He asked.

“Nah,” said Gabby, and clinked her cup against his before downing the rest of her coffee. “Cheers.”

[umikawa]

Comfort Headcanons

This is primarily for Non-binary/gender non-conforming etc. readers, AFAB in this scenario. Forget that things they do post... forget it, it never existed. Also, I can make one for AMAB if you would want them, would probably make them either way once i do more research :))

Warnings: Unsupportive peers, borderline transphobia (NOT from characters), gender dysphoria, gender envy, periods, top surgery, injections (T), coming out (?)

Characters: Yukie, Watari, Daishou, Daichi, Suna, Iwaizumi, Kita, Yamagata, Mika, Bokuto, Sakusa, Matsukawa.  

Not proofread, sorry, was going and didn’t stop.

YUKIE

It’s that time of the month, she can tell by the way your shoulders slouch and the depressed look on your face. 

Doesn’t think twice about rushing to your side, shoving food at your face as she hugs you. Yes, it's uncomfortable because she shoved an entire onigiri in your face then immediately hugged your shoulders. 

At home she’ll pull you between her legs and rub your stomach, she probably has one of those stuffed animal heating things. 

If you start feeling/having gender dysphoria during your period, she’ll start kissing your face all over while whispering she loves you over and over again. 

WATARI

Gender dysphoria, biggest enemy in my eyes. 

He’s concerned right off the bat, he noticed the way your behavior changed the moment your ears picked up on murmurs about your outfit. He doesn’t understand why people bother talking about clothes, clothes have no gender so why is everyone talking about you? 

He’ll pull you away from everyone and hug you under a tree, rubbing your back to calm you down. “I don’t get it Shinji, do people just- do they still see me as a girl?” His heart breaks at your tone, you sound so defeated. 

He’ll tell you to ignore them but he knows it's hard to. Tells you everyday he loves you and that he’ll be there for you always. Though if there were a crowd of people saying things and he’s feeling bold, he’ll press his hands against your ears and kiss you in front of everyone. 

DAISHOU

Starting T, scary.

Whether it’s the injection, patch, or gel, daishou is there to help. While he won’t be doing it for you he’ll hold your hand the entire time you do it, if you do the injection he’ll ignore the strong grip you have that nearly breaks his hand. (me bye.)

During the physical and mental tests you’d have to take beforehand, he’ll be the one taking you, of course unless you start this before you’re 18, he’ll tag along.

He’d take process photos for you so that once there’s a significant change, you two can watch how far you’ve grown together. 

DAICHI

Top surgery. Gosh so expensive…

He’d take you there if you ask him, though if you ask your legal guardian he’ll just tag along and hold your hand whispering you’re gonna do great. 

After the procedure he’d tell you you did so well, and if you start crying he’s kissing your tears away. He’ll take care of you so well but he’d sleep on the floor because he’s scared he might make you uncomfortable or touch your wounds too soon.

The first time you take off your shirt so freely, he almost cries at the way you smile. Pulls you by the waist to kiss your scars and lets a few tears slip from his eyes. 

SUNA

Wearing a binder, comfortable yet also uncomfortable!

When you first get it he’s sitting on the bathroom counter as you put it on, cackling loudly once you look at yourself in the mirror. (me)

He’s reading the instruction card that came with it and he may or may not have stolen the sticker too but besides the point. “Work on better posture.” Cackling stops and you just blink at him, “Rin, if i have to work on my posture so do you!” 

If you’re forgetful don’t remember to take breaks, he’s calling you to scream at you for not remembering. Suna, be my personal reminder. 

IWAIZUMI

TransTape. 

He looked into another option for you, if you didn’t necessarily feel comfortable with a binder and found it. He read through everything, warnings, reviews, how it began, nearly emailed the founder too. 

He’d help you put it on, asking if it felt okay, if you were fine and if anything was bothering you, all of that. Supportive all the way through. When taking it off he read that it could hurt, so if you need to hold his arm or something he won't mind the death grip.

His heart swells when you get out of the shower with a grin in just his sweatpants, not even missing the sight of you in his shirts. 

KITA

The haircut. 

Now if your hair was already short to begin with (pixie, bob, shoulders.) but you wanted it shorter, he just flat out says, “why not shave your head.” But if you have long hair, he asks if he can cut some of it before you go somewhere professional. 

He’s supportive, everyone is. If you get it without him knowing and show up to his house or school with your hair shorter or in a “typical men's haircut” he’ll suppress that feeling of wanting to jump on you. (ik in Japan it's normal for women to have short hair shh.)

I know he’s stoic most of the time but he’s a big goofball, at home he’d keep trying to use an absurd amount of hair gel to give you a mohawk. 

YAMAGATA

The tuxedo. As you can see I've run out of ideas.

Listen, the first time you brought up going to mens warehouse to get fitted for a tux, he’s been drooling. 

Tugs you to the store and keeps shaking his head at the suits you’ve tried on, babe, just tell them you want them to wear an all black suit. He does. 

Will get on his knees when he sees you, probably makes a red carpet from construction paper. 

MIKA

Gender Envy. Ha, i forgot about this one. (i switched tabs to go to crunchyroll and miyuki chose violence)

Anyways, You two are watching some show, anime, attack on titan because i make the rules, howl’s moving castle if you relate. Boom that one guy comes on and she’s whipping her head to you wondering why you’re crying.

“I wanna look like him so bad it hurts.” Pulls you into her chest, and just tells you you’ll be okay, she doesn’t know how to react in these situations, but she’ll look up on what you’re feeling and try to help in any way she can.

Will buy you a wig, actually, she’ll make you an entire cosplay dedicated to that character but it's so spot on. Screaming when you start crying and ruin the makeup she spent so much time on. Cries with you.

BOKUTO

Coming out to him. 

At first he won’t understand why your hands are shaking so much when you sit him  down to talk. Then he just starts getting worried you’re going to break up with him which makes the situation so much worse in your head. 

And when you tell him you’re non-binary/gender non-comforming/transgender/etc. He lets out a breath because he thought it’d be a break up. Quickly regains his composure to hug you tightly and reassure you he loves you and every aspect of you and that he’ll be your number one supporter. 

Makes sure everyone knows your new pronouns, new name, if you’re okay with it. Fends off people who try to criticize you for making a big decision like that, doesn’t hesitate to tell them he wants to spike a volleyball in their face for that comment.

SAKUSA

Change of name. 

Another person whose initial thought is that you’re going to break up with him and is relieved when not. At first he didn’t understand why you were so hesitant to tell him but then he remembers that something like that isn’t easy at all. 

Corrects anyone and everyone when they get your name wrong, so ready to defend you. He’ll hesitate to throw hands but if someone is still trying to pick on you, he’ll provoke them enough so they throw the first swing, then use the self-defense excuse. (go omi omi!)

If you decide to change your name again, he’ll do the same thing all over again. He knows it isn’t easy to choose one so if you’re indecisive he’ll test with you. 

MATSUKAWA

Pronoun change.

You’re just in his room, laying on his bed when you bring it up. “Issei, can you refer to me with they/them pronouns?” his head just whips over to you but he tries to calm himself and says yes. 

If you continue to question it and go from she/her to she/they, he’ll stare down anyone who gets it wrong. When you finally go to they/them, he corrects people when they’re wrong, doesn’t matter if they’re still talking, you can hear his monotone voice just saying “they.” while they’re talking. 

Always says that comment that's pretty popular. “Their pronouns are they/them but i wanna be they/theirs” 

[neighborhood-goblin]

COF Highschool au Chapter 1

“We can just put it back,” Sev said, studying the golden objects on the table.

“What do you mean ‘just put it back’? Look at it!” Tristan exclaimed. It was true that perhaps the trophy was a little worse for wear. The figure on top had snapped off the base pillars, and the side of it was splattered in mud. This is the worst day of my life.

“Let’s clean it off, glue the top back on and stick it back in the case. Easy-peasy.” Tristan was already shaking his head even before Sev finished speaking.

“It’s already daytime, people will see us, and I bet they’ve already noticed the missing trophy!” Tristan ran a panicked hand through his hair and spared the broken trophy another look. He froze.

“I know what to do,” He spoke slowly, carefully, glancing towards the closed door.

“What?” Sev asked, curious as to what Tristan could possibly have thought of.

“We hide it. We hide it somewhere where it won’t be found and we don’t tell anyone what we did.”

“It’s a trophy, not a murder, Tristan,” Sev reminded him, despite the fact he was already coming up with possible places to hide it. His house would be the obvious choice, since Tristan’s dad was the principal and they couldn’t risk him finding out about the broken trophy. “But I guess I can find a spot for it at my house.” Tristan’s face broke into a grin.

“Thanks, Sev. Will you be able to hide it for the school day?” Sev nodded and shoved the trophy pieces into the depths of his backpack.

The pair emerged from the empty classroom into the flooded hallways. Students were everywhere, clustering around lockers, chatting in the middle of the halls, and making their way to first period. Sev and Tristan nodded quickly at each other before separating and disappearing into the crowd.

***

Nyk had to sprint to Spanish in order to claim the seat beside Anders before Latham could. The older boy raised an eyebrow at her as she flopped down on the chair, panting.

“I want to join the cheer squad,” She breathed out. Anders grinned at her.

“Finally! We’re desperate enough for members that I even asked Sev to join. Sev!” He exclaimed. “Come to the gym during lunch, you can try out, and we can get you your uniform.” Nyk let out a relieved sigh and thanked Anders. The bell rang. A binder slammed down onto the table.

“You’re in my seat.” She looked up to see Latham glaring at her.

“Jeez, okay, I’m moving..” Nyk gathered her stuff and retreated to her usual spot in the back, next to Kade. He was reading something on his phone and glanced at her when she sat down.

“Have you seen the school’s website?” He asked. She shook her head and he held his phone out to her. She took it and skimmed the page in front of her.

Recently Auzerec’s High’s first place soccer trophy was stolen. We are asking any and all students involved to come forward and return the trophy by the end of the school day. If the trophy is not returned by the end of the school day today, then students may be pulled for questioning.

Nyk laughed and handed Kade back his phone. “This is ridiculous. It’s a trophy! They can just get a new one.” She quickly quieted as their teacher, Mrs. Dee entered the classroom. Nyk pulled out her phone and held it under the table to text Tristan.

Nyk: did you see the website lol

♥ Tris ♥: No? What does it say?

“His contact name has hearts in it?” Kade’s voice was practically disgusted. Nyk’s face heated.

“Mind your own business!” She hissed at him.

Nyk: some kids stole a trophy apparently

♥ Tris ♥: Did they say who did it?

Nyk: no but their gonna be questioning people

♥ Tris ♥: They’re*

Nyk: ok

A hand tapped on the wood in front of her. “Phone please, Veronyka. You can pick it up after class.” Nyk met Mrs. Dee’s eyes, quickly silenced her phone, and handed it to her, embarrassed that she’d been caught. Kade smirked at her as their teacher walked back to the front of the classroom. She stuck her tongue out at him and turned her attention to Mrs. Dee as she began to write verbs on the whiteboard.

***

Nyk :) : some kids stole a trophy apparently

Tristan froze. Surely if he’d been busted he would’ve already been called to his father’s office. Right? He tapped out a response with shaking fingers.

Tristan: Did they say who did it?

It took Nyk an agonizingly long minute to respond. Tristan bit his nail and waited for her to finish typing. Did Sev get caught with the trophy?

Nyk :) : no but their gonna be questioning people

He grinned in relief.

Tristan: They’re

Nyk :) : ok

He rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone before the teacher caught him with it. It was far too early in the day for him to be doing statistics, but that didn’t stop Mr. Ellet from passing out worksheets. Tristan frowned at his, noticing that it was different from the sheet belonging to the kid sitting next to him. Again? I need to have a talk with my dad; he can’t keep doing this. Nevertheless, he picked up his pencil and began to fill out the paper.

The bell signaling the end of first period rang, and Tristan rose from his seat. He hurried out into the hall and shot Sev a few texts.

Tristan: They know the trophy’s missing.

Tristan: You still have it right?

Tristan: Sev

Tristan: Sev

Tristan: Sev

Tristan: SEV!

Sev: jhgfkdjhgkdjf

Sev: Yes I still have the trophy

Sev: You can relax

He opted not to respond to Sev’s last text.

***

“That was great!” Anders shouted at Nyk. She beamed at him. “Okay come over here so I can get your size and uniform.” She jogged over to the other side of the gym “Alright, you can go back to lunch now.” She nodded and grabbed her things.

She hurried to the cafeteria and slid into an empty spot at her table.

“Guess who’s officially a cheerleader!” Nyk exclaimed excitedly. Kade grinned at her and Tristan congratulated her. Latham didn’t bother to look up at her, probably still peeved that she had briefly borrowed his seat during Spanish. She glanced around for Elliot and Sparrow but they weren’t there.

“That’s cool, Nyk,” Tristan flashed her a smile. She offered one back, and could practically feel Kade rolling his eyes at them. Latham stood up and walked away, most likely leaving to track down Anders.

K: Ugh get a room you guys

Nyk smirked at her phone.

Nyk: someday youre gonna have a crush that i can tease you about

Kade took suspiciously long to respond.

K: unlikely

“Are you guys seriously texting each other while I’m right here?” Tristan gave each of them a mock offended look. Nyk and Kade rolled their eyes at him. “Very uncool, guys.” He paused and glanced at their table. “Hey, why doesn’t Sev ever eat with us?”

Nyk thought for a moment. The question was kind of out of the blue, honestly. Sev showed up for the study group and then they occasionally waved to him in class or in the halls. But that was it. He wasn’t really friends with any of them. She’d never really thought about what Sev did when he wasn’t with them. Did he even have friends at all?

“I was under the impression that he didn’t want to,” Kade said. Nyk had forgotten that Tristan was still waiting for an answer.

“Well I don’t think he’s really hanging out with anyone else. We should see if he wants to have lunch with us tomorrow,” Tristan nodded as he said this, as if confirming that he liked his idea. Nyk and Kade looked at each other. Kade shrugged and returned to his salad bowl.

***

Sev twisted the key through the lock and yanked the door open. Hestia would be home soon, so he quickly grabbed the trophy pieces and shoved them in the back of his closet, where hopefully she would be unable to find them. His phone chimed several times in a row.

Tristan: Did you hide the trophy?

Tristan: Did your parents find out about it?

Tristan: Sev

Tristan: Sev

Tristan: Sev

Sev: You have got to stop

Sev: Yes the trophy is hidden, no my mother did not find out about it

Tristan: Thank heavens

Tristan: Hey do you want to have lunch with the study group tomorrow? You don’t usually eat with us.

Sev: Hard pass.

Sev: Stop texting me.

Sev turned off his phone. He didn’t want Tristan to keep trying to convince him to hang out with the group. If he was being honest, he was pretty close to quitting it. He didn’t really fit in with them. He was always the outsider. It felt pointless to attend their study group if no one except Tristan was even going to try to engage with him outside of it. He tossed his phone on his bed and went to kill time before Hestia got back. He could probably fit a movie in.

***

This is so bad. I can’t do this. I’m going to say the wrong thing oh my-

“Come in, Tristan,” His father’s voice sounded from the open doorway. Tristan slowly walked in and sat down in the chair that was closest to the principal’s desk. Unsurprisingly no student had come forward and returned the trophy, so interviews were being conducted. Tristan met his father’s eyes.

“Now, obviously this is just a formality.” Cassian informed him. “But still. Where were you on the night before last?” Tristan began to panic.

We didn’t have a cover story! What am I supposed to say?!

“I was hanging out with my friend, Sev,” He began. Cassian nodded for him to continue. “We got some food and went back to his place to watch a movie.” He opened his mouth to continue, but his father held up a hand.

“That’s good enough, you can go.” Tristan thanked his father and quickly left. I did it!

His feelings of relief were quickly halted when he saw who was being interviewed next. It was Sev. Tristan hastily grabbed the other boy’s arm and whispered in his ear: “We got food and watched a movie at your house.”

Sev gave him a brief nod and disappeared into Cassian’s office. Tristan returned to class and worried about Sev and the trophy. Then he went to his next class and worried about Sev and the trophy. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Tristan: Okay I know you told me to leave you alone but please tell me nothing went wrong in your interview.

Sev: It was fine. We got burgers, fries, and shakes, then watched Spirited Away

Tristan: Studio Ghibli?

Sev: Yeah it’s a good movie.

Tristan: Never seen it.

Sev: Well don’t go around telling people that, we’ve got to keep our cover intact

Tristan: What, are you a spy now?

Sev: You’re the one who wanted to hide the trophy

Tristan: That’s fair.

***

When Tristan got home, it was clear that his father was frustrated with the theft of the trophy. He and the school’s safety officers had interviewed the bulk of the students and found no viable culprits. Tristan had never been a very good liar, and he was afraid that he might crack if his father continued to chase his own tail in an effort to find whoever had stolen the trophy.

Tristan: I think we need to tell my dad that we did it.

Sev: ???? why

Tristan: He’s getting very frustrated at the whole situation.

Sev: Ok? He is a grown man he can deal with himself

Tristan: I really just think we should

Sev: Ok then go tell him if it’s making you so upset

Tristan: I don’t know if I can.

Sev: Then don’t Tristan: I feel like I have to.

Sev: Then do it

Tristan: I’m worried about getting in trouble.

Sev: dude just stop

Truthfully, Tristan wasn��t quite sure of what to do. On one hand, telling his father would get the whole situation over with, and he wouldn’t have to worry about keeping any covers intact. But on the other, he was facing some probably pretty serious repercussions for what he and Sev had done. It had been his idea too, to take the trophy. He only wanted to take a picture of it, to send as a joke to the study group chat. Instead the trophy had fallen and broken, and he had gotten stuck in this mess.

Finally, he poked his head into his dad’s office. His father was on the phone with someone, so Tristan waited until he hung up.

“Who was that?” He asked, hoping to get a somewhat pleasant conversation going before he confessed. Cassian graced him with a rare smile.

“That was Sevro Lastlight, calling to tell me that he was the one who took the trophy.” What?

“Really?” Tristan responded after a moment. Why would he do that?

“Yes, really,” His father replied, sifting through a stack of papers on his desk. Tristan slowly retreated from the room. He still hadn’t fully processed what had happened. Why would Sev confess for me?

Tristan: You called my dad??

Sev: Yeah

Tristan: Why?

Sev: eh I’ve already done worse things than stealing a trophy

Tristan: That was really awesome of you, Sev.

Sev: np

Tristan: np?

Sev: No problem

Sev: How do you not know that

Tristan: Hey, have lunch with the study group. I know you already said no, but you’re my friend and I feel bad that you eat alone.

Sev: I don’t mind eating alone

Tristan: Please?

Sev: Fine.

Tristan cheered. Maybe today wasn’t that bad after all.

[celosiaa]

vent fic 2 electric boogaloo

mkay this here fic *slaps roof of fic* can fit so much self projection in it! made perfectly spicy by the fact of my current five days of isolation with six to go yeehaw sorry in advance. also my brain makes no sense so I’m not sure this fic does either but that’s the Experience baby welcome

CW panic attack

You’re fine.

You’re fine you’re fine you’re fine.

Unaware that these words had brushed past his lips rather than merely across his mind, Martin pushes open the door, head bowed, trying to breathe, breathe, breathe. When had his hands started shaking?

“—and so you see, when you’re thinking about the third declension, you’ve got to be more careful of the endings, because there’s a lot of exceptions to the typical rules.”

“I know that, Baba. I’m not an idiot.”

“Emma, I would never—”

“You might as well have!”

Of course, Emma’s Latin exam is coming up tomorrow—he’d forgotten, selfish, uncaring, terrible father—

Breathe.

You’re fine.

“Emma, sit down—”

“No. I’m done.”

He feels the shock of her door slamming through his entire body, sending his mind whirling, his knees shaking as though he hadn’t eaten for days. Hadn’t he? No way to be sure, no way to trust himself with the way everything has been spinning so rapidly, so relentlessly he’s unsure he’ll ever know which way is up again.

Breathe.

“Was that,” Jon begins, rubbing tensely over the migraine Martin knows has taken up residence there for the past few days. “Was that my fault?”

“I didn’t really—didn’t really see the whole thing, I’m sorry,” he replies, still not sitting with him at the table, can’t bear the thought of doing so.

If he sits down, it will all come out. And he can’t have that.

“I just—I don’t know what to do. She—she doesn’t really want my help, but she keeps asking for it anyway. I don’t know.”

“She does, she just can’t—erm, can’t—”

Pay attention.

“Martin?”

And now Jon is looking back at him, eyes already starting up with flecks of green, scarred and gentle and beautiful face looking over his own with concern. A concern that should not be; should never be over him.

“Sorry, I—heh—”

Smile smile put on a smile he loves it when you smile

“—lost my train of thought. S-sorry.”

Of course Jon doesn’t believe it—he can’t hide it well enough, has never been good enough at that, can’t even put his own husband first. Not even when he’s upset and hurting, no. Martin does always seem to have a knack for poor timing.

“You don’t look well, habibi. You’re not—”

When had Jon risen from the table? Touched his arms? So close now, so worried over him, so—

“You like this, don’t you? You like making me upset.”

All he can do is stare back at his mum, another cough on the horizon, doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth and not let it out. Can’t risk it. Not when he’s already worried her.

“Don’t you understand how this hurts me? You’re not even ill, are you? You just don’t want to help me. Don’t want to do your work. Selfish child. Can’t even make yourself useful.”

Selfish selfish selfish

“Look at me, Martin.”

He’s on the sofa now, horrified by the sound of his own gasping breaths, too shallow, too crowded, too much. Kneeling before him now is that same lovely, gorgeous face—too trusting, much too trusting than someone like him deserves. For someone like him who feels loved when others worry.

Am I making this up?

Have I really sunk that low?

Disgusting disgusting

“Are you wearing your binder?” Jon asks, voice so soft around his panting breaths, thin and calloused hands running through his hair as he leans forward, begging his lungs to give him back control of his own body.

“N-no, I—”

—couldn’t, it pressed in too much, made the coughing hurt—

“—sorry.”

“Martin. Listen to me,” the love of his life says, in a voice allowing no argument, forcing Martin to meet his eyes. “You’re panicking, love. Please tell me what’s going on.”

Whatever you say next, it’s a lie, and you know it.

“A-alright, alright, just—just nod, or shake your head then. Are you ill?”

Hating himself for every movement, for the relief he feels at the admission, he nods against Jon’s gentle hands. There’s a fever brewing there he knows is making everything worse. The knowledge does not take away its agony.

“Okay. That’s okay, love. Thank you for telling me,” Jon says, praising him like he deserves it. “Let me get some things, and we’ll get your fever down.”

“N-no, I—you don’t need—”

Clutching desperately at Jon’s shirt sleeve as he rises, Martin cannot even be sure what he is trying to say—only that he knows that Jon is worried, and that he’s caused it, and that it should never, ever be this way. Cannot be this way.

“Habibi,” Jon soothes, brows knitting together as he takes his hands in his own, wonderfully cold against his own burning skin while he sinks down onto the couch next to him. “Why are you crying?”

Though he had not noticed before, he now becomes aware of the cool strips of skin over his face where the tears had slipped down, evaporating quickly from the heat of it. And now his husband thumbs away the remnants, even as more fall unbidden, spilling over and over from his eyes as their guardian breaks down when he is most needed.

“Please tell me,” he begs all the same—and Martin wants nothing more than to be honest with him, for the rest of his life.

Will never break that carefully-built, wobbling faith that he believes Jon has in him. Will never risk letting that collapse at its very foundation.

“I can’t,” he whispers, forcing a wry smile onto his face, even as Jon’s frown deepens at his words. “Just—just take it from me, I can’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

For a moment, there appears a spectre of the power Martin had once seen flow through him—eyes flashing green and piercing and bright as they bore into his own—but without that same hunger, without that drive for knowledge that very nearly tore him apart. Instead, he finds love—so powerful that it wants to know his mind for the sake of loving it, not for dissecting it. For a way to love him better.

And Martin can see the thoughts swirling in his mind nearly bring him to pieces.

“Martin, I—” he starts, choking around a lump in his throat that has formed around the self-hatred he could barely swallow.

“S-sorry, Jon, I shouldn’t have.”

“N-no, darling, please—”

Taking both of his hands in one of his own now, he places the other against Martin’s cheek, holding him together with the undue strength of his spindly fingers, with the wonderful coolness of the ring Martin had put on him all those years ago. Promises. They had made promises to each other. With love, not guilt; with freedom, not fear.

Breathe.

I can breathe.

“Let me. Let me look after you, my love.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know. But let me.”

[amarauder]

Criminal Girl Relates to Garfield - Percy Jackson x Reader

                                005. criminal girl relates to garfield 

PAIRING; High School AU!  Percy Jackson x Reader

REQUEST; Not Applicable

GODLY PARENT; Not Applicable

DATE; June 12th, 2020

WORD COUNT; 8053

WARNING; Bruh so freaking much. friends and families being dicks, panic attacks, crying and pubic humiliation, you're gonna read this and just keep cringing because of reader's dumb ass.

A/N; I think I like High School and Soulmate AUs too much. This isn't a soulmate AU. It was going to originally be but it just didn't match with the plot so I didn't. Still this is my first one and I had so much fun writing it. I think I just related to this reader more than normal. I think this is my favorite one shot to be honest. I'm so happy, I feel like I've fallen in love with writing again. The last few one shots I've just had the best time writing them and it's been difficult to stop writing.

TRAILER; Reader is Percy Jackson's soulmate, potentially a criminal and more than kind of cute.

REQUESTED BY; Not Applicable

-

Y/N was more than ready for this week to be over. It had started out horribly and only got worse as the days ran their course.

On Monday her Aunt's insane dog, that she had been forced to dog sit, had torn up her favorite shirt. On Tuesday she had forgotten her entire binder at home and received zeros on all of her assignments, and then one of her exams for being blamed for talking when it had really been the kid behind her. On Wednesday, Y/N was supposed to be presenting one of the most important projects of the entire semester in her first period only for her car refusing to start. Of course, when her Dad came home it ran perfectly. Thursday she had found out her position as President of the Economics Club had been handed over to some kid she didn't even know, despite how long she had been working for it. Friday, she had found out her best friend since kindergarten had lied to her face and was hanging out with a girl she loathed.

Her best friend ditching her had hurt her the most. It left an ugly slimy feeling in her chest that felt like some kid attempting to learn CPR for the first time, except she was the mannequin every time she thought of them hanging out together. Despite the chest compression, her self-depreciating thoughts never seemed to leave her. It was like she was trying to torture herself which didn't hurt any less.

To say the least, Y/N was completely drained. Blinking took way too much effort, and yawns seemed to be effortless. The kind of tired that took over after crying too much, so stress relieving that the tightness in her chest released, leaving her slap happy.

After grabbing two boxes of mac and cheese and a huge jug of orange juice, Y/N was on her way to her car. The bagger asked her if she needed any help carrying everything to her car.

She stared blankly at him for a few seconds before looking at her three items. He smiled sheepishly and Y/N felt fortunate to have been blessed with more brains than him.

It wasn't until she reached her car and caught sight of her reflection that she wondered if he had asked because she looked so miserable.

His so called thoughtfulness really didn't make her feel any better. In fact she felt worse. It was like when her Mother's wine group would come over and compare stories of who had been more disrespected. From grocers deciding they were age appropriate to buy wine without asking for an ID to being called Ma'am instead of Miss, Y/N had heard it all. Somehow it all had to do with old age and the grocery store. The wonders of Motherhood in the suburbs.

Placing her groceries on top of her car, she tried to unlatch the trunk. It wouldn't budge.

Hmm, Y/N was pretty sure she had left her it unlocked. Whatever. She wouldn't put it past herself if she had forgotten to lock it.

But when she tried to unlock it, nothing happened. Her car didn't beep or flash it's stupid lights, or anything. The battery in her key had been flickering on and off all week, it was the reason her car wouldn't start on Wednesday morning. But her Dad had said it had at least a few months of life left, not three days.

Her stomach dropped and she felt unshed tears build up in her eyes. Not now, not today. She had enough this week.

Her thumb hovered over the unlock button once more. Y/N almost didn't want to press it, because that would mean finding out her fate and she just wasn't that kind of girl.

She did it anyway. And the old piece of junk sat there like it was ready to retire to the car graveyard. Y/N wasn't ready for her freedom to retire so quickly.

Feeling her tears build up again, more rapidly this time, she dug the palm of her hand into her eyes and leaned against the car. Her throat tightened. She promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore today. She promised...

"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," she whispered to herself, her voice to low to crack. Face screwed shut and her toes curled to will the tightness in her throat away.

The tears eventually made it through which only made her want to cry harder. She was so embarassed. Thoughts ran wild, making her panic harder to control.

How was she going to get home?

How was she going to pay for her car to be fixed?

She really didn't want to go back to walking.

Wouldn't her parents be mad?

What if this was one of those stupid kidnapping schemes that she had seen during a school assembly?

Don't be stupid. Calm down. Focus.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a lady with her dog, eye Y/N warily. A man sitting in his car with his feet propped up on the dashboard and a cigarette hanging between his finger laughed at her despair then ended up in a coughing fit. A woman ushered her child away, who was pointing at her, and gave Y/N a dirty look.

Y/N remained like that until her Mother's advice that she never took to heart rang through her, "Pick yourself up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Life isn't that hard."

She was right and Y/N wiped her tears away hurriedly.

As the knots in her stomach washed away, a new one settled it self in her chest. She was pissed. Furious at life for making her feel like shit, betrayed by her best friend, grades flustering down to nothing, and a position she worked harder than anything in the world for was snatched away before she could even think of savoring it.

It was just shit and completely unfair.

Wiping her tears, Y/N turned towards the driver's handle and pulled on it so hard, that her feet started to slip and she fell on her but.

She could have screamed, but instead she started to curse loudly and kick her car still laying down. She just about to kick the car for the sixth time when someone said behind her, "Uhh, hey, it would be really cool if you could stop trying to destroy my car? I don't know what he did to you, but at this point I think you're in danger of giving him PTSD."

Turning around, she noticed a blurry figure. Tears were still in her eyes making it hard for her to make out who it was but she could tell closing her eyes that he felt awkward. Hell, her guardian angel, no devil at this point, probably felt awkward.

When she blinked her tears away she saw him look suprised, and stumble back a few steps as if her presence shocked him. Which was stupid because unless there was some other person trying to break into the car, she didn't know why he was acting like she had come out of nowhere.

"This is my car, dude."

The teen scratched his neck, then pressed his car keys and suddenly the piece of junk came to life. She blinked hard, trying to comprehend what had just happened in front of her.

A flash of heat surged up her body that couldn't have came up from the exhaust pipe right next to her. She couldn't have been more aggravated and embarrassed. The guy seemed to realize that, because he shifted his weight to his side as he glanced at her. He was right, she was an idiot.

Quickly mumbling an apology, she ran off into the parking lot. Her car had to be around here somewhere and Y/N had never been more than ever determined to find it, or maybe just determined to get away from this situation as soon as possible.

She found it in the exact same spot, just a few rows away. Her brain kept replaying and replaying her embarrassing moment over and over again, leaving her to cringe and try to shoo it away.

If there was a list for the most embarrassing things Y/N had ever done, this would be on the top of the list. She could imagine herself years later, watching her husband struggling to change their kid's diaper as she laughed and talked about this. But right now all Y/N wanted to do was forget that she even existed.

It almost funny the amount of relief she felt just to have her car unlock. Her car, her piece of junk did it's little half-hearted beep, but it sounded rejuvenated as if it knew what she had gone through just for it.

She started the engine, and then let her forehead rest against the wheel in relief. At least that went well.

She was in the middle of her breather when a knock on her window startled her. Y/N took a few more seconds to herself before looking up and seeing the boy from before looking more awkward than when she he was before.

She rolled down the window, and right when he opened his mouth to speak the engine died.

"No," she whispered to herself, her stomach sinking, "No, no, no."

"Um, here's your groceries?" the boy said with a smile, but Y/N only opened the engine after getting out of her car. He stood there for a second before setting them inside the drivers seat and following her. He leaned over the hood and started to hack violently. The engine was fuming and Y/N wanted to cry for what seemed the millionth time that day. "Did you beat this one up too?"

She gave him a look but he only smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, it just slips out sometimes."

"It's okay... You're a boy."

The boy smiled. Did she just notice now? "Nice observation."

"Do you know anything about cars?"

"I know they aren't supposed to smell like that."

Pursing her lips, she rolled her eyes, "Thanks, so helpful."

"I try."

Letting out a laugh of disbelief, she leaned against the car and groaned. What was she going to do know? Even though breaking into the guys car was one of extremely embarrassing, she had been filled with a little bit of hope. The shitty day would end and she could go home. But now... There was no decent solution.

"Umm, would you want a ride in my car?" Y/N raised an eyebrow and he tried to hurriedly explain, "It's just I saw the sticker on your back window and we go to the same school. My Mom would kill me if I just left you here, so..."

-

The car ride home was so awkwardly silent, Y/N had even asked for his name.

"Percy Jackson," he said and flashed her a smile that she didn't return. She was too tired, and this guy was too happy. He probably shit out sunshine rays and Y/N just... was not about that life. Plus, his name sounded irkingly familiar, as if he had been in one of her previous classes.

"Nice to meet you," she said after a while, her imaginary Mother shaking her fist at the girl during that silent moment, "I'm Y/N L/N."

"Y/N," he repeated, and she almost looked for that feeling that all her friends talked about. The one where their stomachs churned pleasantly and it seemed that they don't even remember what happened before and after seeing him. All the memories from that day were separate. The life they knew before and after her friends met the one. But there was nothing, no shocking realization or fireworks. She could have just met Zeus himself and Y/N wouldn't be able to tell the difference. "Nice name."

"Thanks," she whispered quietly and played with the hem of her shoe. She had originally placed it on the dashboard but Percy sucked in a harsh breath and then the foot was back balancing on her thigh.

"Ya," and then it was awkward silence again.

Inside her mind, Y/N was cringing. This boy was nice, way too nice, and probably the most good looking kid she had ever seen. It was a wonder how she had never noticed him, or at the very least seen him around her school. Now, she had murdered his car, almost broke into it, screamed at him about her engine, and he decides to drive her home because well, she didn't know. It shouldn't matter because she was just repaying him by being awkward.

"Umm, why are you being so nice to me?"

What? God, why was she such a nerd? And an introvert. She needed to go out more.

"Uh," he said and glanced at her as she pointed to the left and he put his blinker on, "I don't know what you mean."

"I beat up your car, probably would have made the stupid alarm go off if you hadn't stopped me and then you follow me to give me my groceries that I had forgotten. My car doesn't start and you offer me a ride home even though you don't know my name." Y/N finished with a huff. Surprisingly, she felt better as if she had just finished crying and got it all off her chest.

"So?"

"So? It's not very high-school boy of you."

Percy laughed, "Well, I'll try harder to be more high school boy if you want."

"No, I like whatever you've got going on here," She said and waved her hand at him.

"Good. I don't feel like pulling over and dropping you off at a random street. Besides, Mom would be pissed at me. When I tell her what happened today, because I'm sorry but I have too. She's going to wonder what took me so long. But, umm," he paused for a second to collect his thoughts, "When I tell her what happened, she's gonna ask if I brought you home or not, and this way I won't have to lie."

He flashed another smile at her and she felt a slight tingle on her face that her friends talked about. But then again, maybe it was her nose going numb from the air conditioning. It was like this boy secretly lived in Alaska. "I'm a shit liar, by the way."

"Couldn't have guessed."

"What gave me away?"

Y/N stared at him for a second before laughing, "You said it."

He had the audacity to look embarrassed, yet please at the same time. "Well, you looked like you needed some cheering up."

Her laugh died from her eyes as the words sunk in. It was not the first time Percy put his foot in his mouth, sometimes he wished he could actually think before he would speak. He would try, but it's not socially acceptable at his age for long periods of silence in between conversations to take place so he can run over his words.

She huffed and crossed her arms, and it felt like Percy's insides were crushed between the space of her chest and twisted limbs. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He gave her a gentle little thing that somewhat resembled the corner of his lips titling up.

Percy didn't know her at all, but she seemed like the girl that was disappointed with the world. Y/N was too pretty to be disappointed. Percy's Mom had always told him that the prettiest people in the world were dreamers, and the world never held up to their expectations.

Percy didn't really like that for Y/N.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, her face never wavering from the road ahead.

"Umm, what's your favorite animal?"

He took Y/N so off guard that she answered, "A cat."

"Why a cat?"

Y/N hesitated, who questions their favorite animal? "Umm, because I relate to them, I think."

"Why because you like lasagna and are scared of accordions?"

"I'm sorry, what?" He had her full attention now. She wasn't even trying to pretend to be mad at him. Her entire body, despite the restrictions of the seatbelt, was turned towards him.

"Have you never heard of Garfield?"

"Of course, I have." Y/N answered, "Who hasn't? But I thought Garfield was scared of scales and diets."

"He is. But he's also scared of accordions. I have to impress you with my extensive Garfield knowledge somehow right?" Y/N snickered, her fingers massaging her forehead. This boy was something else, she liked it.

"Well, do you relate to Garfield?" he asked a minute later.

Y/N laughed so hard that the back of her head hit the seat and she snorted, which only set her into another laughing fit. "I'm sorry," she said still giggling a little bit, "It's just who relates to Garfield?"

"A girl who tries to break into cars, I guess."

Y/N didn't think Percy had it in him to be so sarcastic. After spending a little under fifteen minutes with him, she had judged him as the boy who apologized despite doing nothing wrong and had fallen in love with his best friend but would never tell them. The boy who lived next door type.

He was sweet, and funny, and so incorrigibly cute that Y/N was shocked that she had been able to have a decent conversation with him.

So, she did what she did best with cute boys: pretend she wasn't attracted to them.

She shoved his arm even though he was driving, ignored him after with a fake pout, and even refused to say goodbye to him as she got out of the car. He had laughed at all of her antics and kept repeating his goodbyes over and over, getting louder and louder with each one.

After the door was shut, she snuck over to the window where the curtains were drawn and peeked through. He was still there, staring at the door. She watched him until he drove off.

A surreal giggle peeked through her, her smile seeming unable to wipe off. Her body thrummed with energy. For the first time in a while, her chest felt light and airy, as if drugged with hope.

-

The magical energy in the form of Percy Jackson had worn off by the time school started that Monday. She had gotten to school as late as possible that day, her stomach twisting and turning itself. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was see her best friend. Y/N had ignored her the entire weekend, all her calls and texts had gone ignored. Her own actions had almost been surprising to her, she had a knack for forgiving others who didn't deserve her mercy. Y/N supposed she had finally had enough.

Fortunately, she had gotten through the entire first half of the day without seeing her by ignoring her texts and calls, dodging her attempts at meeting Y/N at her own locker, and even purposely coming into Y/N's class with the excuse of office aid.

It was now lunchtime and Y/N was lucky enough to have her first meeting of the Environmental Club scheduled today. Her best friend would never even think of stepping in here, Y/N had too many good friends who would love to give her a good shove.

Even though she was thankful to have somewhere to hide from her friend, Y/N was anxious to enter the classroom. Her nerves felt fuzzy from toes to her hairline, which only made her more nervous. Y/N had a habit of stumbling over her words when she was nervous, and she did not need that today.

The meeting room was just an empty classroom with her biology teacher from freshman year eating a sandwich in the corner of the classroom. Y/N was almost 100% sure he was a biker version of Santa Claus. Sure, he was a lot less generous with his grades, but he looked exactly like the Santas at the mall just with tattoos and a tommy bahama shirt.

The turnout varied. There were the usual, Y/N, Triton the President of the club, this random freshman named Tyson, Grover and his girlfriend. That was about it. Sometimes it was just them. Other times, usually when there was pizza, a lot more people showed up.

Today was one of those days. A group of giggling freshman girls eyed Triton appreciatively, while a girl named Ella and Tyson went over notes in the corner. Grover smiled and waved from the pizza stand and Y/N grimaced but waved back.

Gods, this was going to be at the top of her list of embarrassing moments, right next to having a mental breakdown with Percy's car.

Triton started off the meeting with his usual greetings of putting Y/N in charge. He grinned down at her menacingly once he announced she would be taking over the rest of the meeting. She had never wanted to flip off someone so much that Y/N pressed her hand against her thigh and flipped him off secretly.

Triton moved off the stand and sat on his phone by Tyson and the freshman girls, they giggled and moved closer to him.

She rolled her eyes and smiled at everyone from the platform despite her trembling fingers and her tongue feeling as if it weighed tons.

Y/N tried to focus on the light from the windows lighting up dust like tiny stars and the way the crank from the air conditioning reminded her of boring days in this classroom where there wasn't the threatening future looming over her.

Triton expected her to announce her own failure. She wanted to cry.

Triton was the biggest asshole she had ever met. He had been held back so many times that no one truly knew how old he was, and nobody dared to ask. The one thing he somewhat cared about was this club. He had been President for the past how many years he had been here despite that he did nothing.

As it was her Senior year and Y/N had never worked so hard to keep a club going, she decided to run for President. It turned out that Triton was finally graduating but it never occurred to him that he would have to give up his position. Y/N had never seen him so mad in her life, and he decided to punish her for his graduation.

She took a breath and smiled at everyone. She could do this. "Hey guys. So thank you for coming today. Pizza will be served at the end of the meeting, as per usual." She said and leaned against the podium. Her voice was shaking but Y/N had to pretend she didn't realize for her own sanity. Looking more casual would hopefully calm her down. Maybe looking around the crowd would help. "Umm, today we are revealing next year's President which is really exciting-" As people started to clap, she choked on air, and suddenly she was stuck in a coughing fit struggling to catch a breath. Percy had been sitting in the back. They had made eye contact and then she had forgotten how to breathe.

Hands were on her back, and she was guided outside the classroom then sat down by the lockers. The feet left and she coughed some more but it died down. The tickle in her throat felt like someone was itching her throat with a feather. Y/N had to clear her throat multiple times to try to get it to go away but nothing worked. Her lungs burned as she filled them with air. She felt her hands shaking violently again and she leaned her head against the lockers.

She hadn't even gotten to the announcement part.

A water bottle was handed to her but she didn't move to open it. Pretty, tan hands did it instead, she watched them languidly.

"I think I have a knack for creating your breakdowns," Percy said with a smile. She looked up at him with her hand still against the locker. Her lips felt too heavy to give him a real smile, so she settled for a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "I don't know about you, but sleeping in the hallways isn't really ideal."

Y/N snorted and her chest fluttered. She sat up then and took the water. Her throat was so parched it burned as the water went down.

"Ya, I'm not one for naps on floors that haven't been cleaned since the school opened either. Just when I start yacking so hard, you have to bring me outside."

Percy laughed and it was so contagious that she caught herself giggling with him.

"How's Garfield?"

"Garfield?" Y/N questioned.

"Ya, you know," Percy said and stuffed his hands into his hoodie. She wondered how often he did that. "Garfield, your car."

"What?" Y/N said laughing as she looked at him. He was already looking at him and Y/N hurriedly turned towards the lockers in front of her again. Yay, now she made things even more awkward. But Y/N couldn't help it, he really liked eye contact and Y/N didn't. End of story. "I've never named my car anything."

"I had a feeling. You don't seem the type, so I named him for you. Garfield in honor of your favorite animal."

Y/N hit him with the water bottle. If any other person had done this, then they probably would have remembered to put the cap on. It was too bad she was a world class idiot. However, to her horror, Y/N had only realized that would happen once it did.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Y/N scrambled around for anything to dry the water with but all she found was a disgustingly dirty straw wrapper and a dried piece of gum. Y/N didn't know him that well, but she figured he wouldn't want to use that. She settled for using her own shirt instead.

Percy was laughing the entire time, and was pushing away her hands. It was like Percy was made just to embarrass her, as if baby bunnies were going to die everyday if she didn't embarrass herself every time he was around. "Y/N, Y/N," he repeated, grabbing her hands and placing them in his lap, "It's fine." She wouldn't look up at him and continued to look at their hands. He was so close to her that her focus had gone out the window. Her hands were abuzz and Y/N felt another coughing fit coming along.

It was just like her friends had explained. Oh god, it was exactly the same. Her tirade of a crush smashing Y/N with the weight of it.

"Y/N, I don't care honestly," her heart pounded in her throat and Y/N started to laugh nervously. She was screwed. "If anything it will just piss off Octavian which makes this even better." Percy said, mistaking her panic for spilling water on him. Gods, he probably thought she was a freak.

Fortunately, Grover came into the room. She had never been more thankful for him, Y/N had a feeling that if Percy spend anymore time this close to her she was going to either faint or have another coughing fit, maybe even both. "Come on, Percy. Triton just announced that you were President, he wants a little speech."

"Speech?"

Grover shrugged, "That's what he said. Although, I have a feeling that you could tell him that the world was dying and he would be crying tears of happiness."

He patted Y/N's head, and she tried to engrain this feeling into her brain. "You'll be fine right."

She nodded, and his hands left her. It was like a light switch had turned on and suddenly her brain started working again.

Y/N grabbed Percy's wrist before he left, "You're the President."

Percy nodded and Y/N muttered a little, "Oh," under her breath. She didn't know quite how to feel anymore. How had she not noticed before? It must have been why his name sounded so familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on where she had remembered him from.

Percy went to kneel next to her again, but Grover cleared his throat. He looked torn, and looked at Y/N then Grover and back again before leaving with a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shy away but wouldn't look at him either.

Just as they crossed the threshold Y/N heard Grover tell Percy that Y/N was supposed to be President. Her lip quivered, but she pressed them together. She could practically feel Percy's glance at her. She wanted to hit Grover in the back of the head and also wanted to run away. If she wasn't so emotionally drained she probably would have.

-

Y/N met her fate at the end of the third period. Her next class was a free period, fortunately. It gave her just enough time to wait in line for the food line.

"Hey, criminal girl," someone whispered into her ear. She just about jumped four feet.

She turned around to see Percy. Her chest hurt a little, and she wasn't sure it's from the scare or Percy giving her all of his attention. Y/N settled for both.

"Umm, hey," she said and eyed the two boys behind him. The pair looked almost identical, except for their different sized scars on their face, and the one on the left was taller. They were giggling like elementary school children and making suggestive faces at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Hoping to cut in line with you," Percy says, a plea in his voice.

Y/N meant in a general, in a what are you doing here talking to me? kind of way. If Y/N were Percy, she would have stayed as far away from his as possible. But then again, she knew that wasn't true. Percy could have told her he was half god and the son of the god of fish poop and Y/N would have swooned.

"What are you doing here?"

She gave him a look when he started to snicker, then marched past him and threw out her hand with a smile, "Y/N L/N."

Both boys looked shocked that she had started to talk to them and Y/N couldn't lie. She was just as surprised by her actions. Fortunately, they didn't seem to mind and kickstarted into action. The taller one of the left with a faded scar running down the side of his face said, "Luke Castellan. Nice to meet the girl Perseus hasn't stopped talking about for the last few days."

"Your name is Perseus?" Y/N asked a shit eating grin creeping up her face. Percy looked like he just found out Gaea was coming after him. She turned back to the Luke kid who had turned red from trying not to laugh, "I want to personally thank you for that information. It's priceless."

Percy grumbled.

"Hey Y/N," the other one said. She was surprised he knew who she was. Jason was less boisterous than the other two, but still just as mischievous. He had a a type of quiet confidence and grace to him that made her want to hang onto every word she gave him. Y/N also spent a day with him each month, trying to figure out the balance of money she could spend on the club. "So, you're the girl who tried to steal the piece of junk."

"Hey!" Percy exclaimed, "Leave Blackjack out of this!"

"Blackjack?" Y/N questioned.

"My car," Percy said softly to her then scratched his neck.

She laughed quietly, then studied the three boys. "Are you two related?" Y/N asked and pointed to Jason and Luke.

"Nah, I'm dating Jason's sister but Percy and Lightning Skull over here are cousins."

Y/N nodded, processing this information. How had she not seen Percy around? Jason Grace was the Senior Class President, she had to attend monthly meetings to go over the Environmental Club treasury.

A voice cut through their conversation, making Y/N look over Luke's shoulder to see who it was. Piper McClean, the TV anchor and Speech and Debate finalist was walking over with a smile. Her grin was directed at Jason, but just being in the crossfire felt like a gift.

It seemed Jason felt that way too because he suddenly straightened up and turned red in under 2.5 seconds. He walked away with a halfhearted gesture that could have passed as a wave goodbye.

Luke snickered then pointed towards the potential couple with his thumb, "I'm gonna go find Thals while the idiot is love sick."

The line had moved up while Y/N had been distracted, and she flashed a smile at her fellow seniors then ran up to join Percy. He was already forking out some money to pay for whatever food he wanted.

"They seem nice."

"Hmm," Percy said, not looking up from his wallet, "Oh, ya. I've known Jason since Summer and Luke for even longer."

"I thought you and Jason were cousins."

"We are," Percy said and smiled triumphantly when he found a ten dollar bill. She couldn't help but bask in her contentment. Her breaths were coming in deeper and easier. She felt like she had fallen into Sally from Spongebob's little bubble house, there were no threats to take away this short-lived happiness at the moment. "My Dad and my uncle don't get along. Besides, my Dad left when I was young. It wasn't until Jason came over the Summer after meeting at Summer camp and my Mom hugged him for longer than normal that she told us."

Y/N didn't know what to say. She was fortunate enough to have all her family members with her, it wasn't perfect and her parents seemed to really adore fighting. But something is better than nothing. "Shit," she paused, "I know we don't know each other too well, but I'm sorry, Percy."

Percy shrugged with a smile. His hands were buried deep into his hoodie. He looked like the main protagonist in some cheesy coming of age movie, where a cheerleader decides to scoop up the hot but oddball kid in her Shakespeare class. "I mean, you can't really miss something you never had."

Y/N tilted her head from side to side and considered his words, "I never thought of it that way."

"That's why I am known as a secret genius in these halls."

Y/N laughed, "Known? My ass." She was impressed with herself. Y/N hadn't embarrassed herself yet, and she even had introduced herself to one if his friends.

"No one's gonna know the new kid."

Now, that took Y/N by surprise, "You're new? That makes so much more sense." She leaned her head against her hand which was resting on the sill of the window as they finally reached the front of the line.

It was why she had never noticed him before, why Jason and Luke were hanging out together, why Percy knew Jason. It just all seemed to connect under seconds.

"Hey Rachel!" Y/N grinned, perking up from seeing her old friend. Rachel had been on her sports team freshman year. Y/N spent most of her time on the bench, still did, but Rachel had been there along with her so it was okay. She was a good friend and an even funnier person. Rachel had no licensee, which left Y/N's sophomore season screaming the entire way to their away games.

"Hi," she smiled and Y/N wanted to laugh. Rachel's smile was incredibly contagious, something about it being too mischievous to be anything good. "What can I get for you two?"

They ordered and Rachel nor Percy wouldn't let her pay. "It will make your payment easier for breaking into my car. Then you can drive me home and buy me lunch. Maybe even a little beating up the car sesh."

Y/N looked at Rachel wide eyed. Her heart picked up at the thought of spending time with him outside of school. "You never said anything about a repayal." She objected, and tried to swipe food from him.

He pivoted and held everything over his head, out of her reach. She crossed her arms and glared at him. His green eyes twinkled, and she marveled at how shockingly handsome he was. It truly wasn't fair. If she had his beauty, she would have used it to her advantage but then again, he probably does.

"Well, you kind of beat up my car, criminal girl. I was hoping for at least a thank you."

Y/N rolled her eyes. He had this way of backing her into her own corners. He turned his back and continued his purchase, shooting a victorious look over his shoulder as the receipt printed out.

Y/N stood alone by the cashier for a whiplashed moment. Jesus Christ. What the fuck was going on? She felt like she was meeting Percy over again. He acted so differently than when he was in the car.

It was like she'd been sucked into a tornado, tossed around, and then spit out alone in the front of the lunch line.

He threw away the cover at the trashcan and Y/N reluctantly walked up next to him, the condiments were right next to the trash can. He grinned at her and she struggled not to return it. "We're going to spend a lot more time together, so you're going to have to turn that frown upside down."

Y/N snickered and elbowed him. He grinned and leaned against the trash can. She eyed him and wrinkled her nose. So disgusting.

He quickly got off it, as if he hadn't realized what he was going. Percy brushed off the sleeve of his hoodie then smelled it. It only made Y/N laugh harder and shake her head. "What do you mean spend more time together?"

"Well, one you owe me," he said and shot her a look. The smirk on her face made her wary. "And the Environmental Club rulebook states that co-presidents have to spend loads of time together."

He was walking backwards and Y/N couldn't lie she was impressed until he stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not co-President then."

"What if I told you, you were." Percy said, studying her. Her head shot up so fast, her vision blurred. It was as if an airplane from the sky had just dropped a bunch of wooden skewers right on her. They didn't hurt her, she was more shocked than anything. "Grover told me what happened and I just thought it was entirely unfair what Triton did to you. And you're fun to be around so during my speech I said that you were co-president but couldn't come in cause you were still coughing. Everyone seemed to believe it, so."

Y/N was quiet. She had never been so touched in her life. Being everyone's second choice sucked, but Percy had just admitted he thought she was fun. For a lot of people it wouldn't seem like such a big deal but Y/N felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I mean, you don't have to do it, if you don't want to. I can always tell everyone it had been a mistake. You're just a cool person and stuff. I would have a better time being president if you were doing it with me."

"I'd love to, Percy."

"Really?" Percy looked up from where he was tracing the sidewalk with his shoe. She had never seen him so happy yet shy. Y/N bit her cheek to keep herself from smiling too big. She felt tingly all over, it was stupid but she liked it. It wasn't electricity like how her friends had said they felt with their boyfriends, Y/N had never been electrocuted so she didn't know how it felt. But somehow she knew that Percy was more than just tiny shocks.

-

They were assigned their first project together a week later. Co-Presidency was a lot more fun than she had thought. Percy had used the excuse of inviting Y/N over to his table for lunch to 'discuss tactics'. Y/N knew that wasn't what he meant but she didn't mention anything.

Her best friend had asked to speak to her when she was studying with Percy. It was more like Percy whining about how senior year was supposed to be easy and how his life was so hard, while Y/N asked him questions from her stack of flashcards.

But the second Percy saw the panic on her face, he had asked her politely if she could talk to Y/N later because he had a test next period and really needed the help.

Y/N had thought he was bad at lying.

Once she left, Percy had put an arm around her and brought Y/N closer to him. He whispered into her ear, "I got you, criminal girl."

She smiled at her lap, and risked a glance at him. He was staring at her as if she was some question on a test he couldn't figure out. He held her intimacy of being understood in his hands.

She leaned into him.

-

At the end of the day, Percy met Y/N by her car. Their cars were amongst the last few left, except for some of the athletic representation and staff. Her shoes squeak against the pavement, but he doesn't even flinch; he just smiles at her.

She knocks his hat down as a makeshift greeting and a way to distract him so she doesn't see her double-checking it is in fact her car. Y/N already made a fool of herself before, she didn't want to do it again.

Unfortunately, he notices because he snickers behind her and jabs her sides. Her heart leaps into her throat then drops down to her feet, like some rollercoaster ride. She has to lean against the car to calm her racing breath. He laughs even harder at that and grabs her keys from her purse before getting in the passenger seat.

Once Y/N feels confident enough that she won't have a stroke around him, she gets in the car. Percy already has plugged his phone into apple car play and is playing some dumb song from his playlist. She faintly recognizes it as some song from the Little Mermaid.

"I don't think I needed the keys to get in here, did I?"

Y/N laughs and starts it, fortunately Garfield doesn't stall, "Probably not." She is about to pull out when she remembers that Percy is still in her car. "Now, get out. I have to go home."

"To do what?"

Y/N huffs and feels embarrassment climbing up her spine like the slimy snake in Adam and Eve, encouraging her to make up some lie so she can look cooler. But unlike them she doesn't fall into that pit, "I dunno."

"Okay, so no plans for the rest of the night then."

Y/N gives him a look that lets him know he isn't even a quarter as casual as he thinks he is. Percy takes it in stride, since Y/N answers his question despite his glaring obviousness. "I mean the only thing I planned on was going home and finishing my book, unless someone has a better idea."

She hopes Percy supposes he's supposed to be that someone, but sadly, he hasn't thought this far ahead into the conversation. He fumbles, stammering out little nonsensical half-sentences, but Y/N is blissfully unbothered. "Don't we have to work on the project?" His head is leaning against the headrest and Y/N wonders how someone stuttering can look so casual, and composed, and pretty.

He lights up then, and Y/N smiles unconsciously. Her heart beats a bit faster when his eyes met her own. She doesn't look away, and she feels this pull. The rest of the world turns into white noise, non-existent and unimportant. Y/N wants to reach out and touch him, just feel his skin against her own. It's addicting and exhilarating. "Ya," his voice comes out deeper than normal, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again, but even then it comes out softer than normal. He's doing this thing with his eyes, it makes her stomach flutter. And even though she shouldn't, she wanted to kiss him. "That's a good idea."

They stared at each other unapologetically as they sat there. Her eyes traveled from his aqua green eyes that resembled the ocean so much that she felt a serene feeling wash over her, as if she had just taken a whiff of salt water. Then, she realized that it was just Percy. Something about knowing how he smelled made her heart pound. She wondered how he kissed, whether he liked to go fast or slow. She knew that with him it wouldn't matter to her. Her eyes moved down to his throat and watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She saw the tilt of his lips and a flash of a dimple, the dip of his collarbone, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

By the time she looked back up, neither of them moved, even though Percy had just admitted that he wanted to leave.

And then suddenly he was moving. He put his phone in the cup holder, and his fingers brushed against hers in a split second of what felt like life. Then he slid across the seat and slipped her cheeks into his warm hands, his fingers raked through the back of her hair, and Percy kissed Y/N.

He barely touched her. Just a light brushing of lips against hers, the slightest feel of his breath on her face.

It shot through her in milliseconds. Even though it was just a press of lips, her breathing was ragged.

His hands were still stuck in her hair, and he was still so close to her. It made her a little breathless.

They stayed there, just taking each other in, neither moving or breaking eye contact. He looked at her like it was work not to look at Y/N. It's silent until it's not.

"You know those people you just sort of... vibe with?" Percy whispered, his eyes closing as he leans his forehead against hers. Her breath shudders.

She was glad he asked the question before invading her personal space again, her focus always went out the window. "Vibe with?" She giggles a little at the choice of word.

But Percy doesn't, he looks at her with a kind of seriousness that silences her immediately. Then, she thinks about his question, really thinks about it. Y/N was familiar with it. There are some people that when you meet you just click with, their vibes just vibe with yours. Those are the people you want to keep in forever because at the end of the day, they are who you want to be and Percy is more herself than she is.

But instead of staying that she just nods, and their noses brush. His lips quirk up. "Well, you are that person for me, I think."

Y/N smiles, and plants one of him. When she peels herself away from him, he chases her lips and she lets him. Choosing instead to murmur against his, "You're that person for me too."

[chiefest-and-greatest-calamity]

Chapter Five: Fired

Genre: Slow burn, I think

Pairing: Miya Osamu x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, death mention

Prev. Masterlist

   “You’re both idiots." They each held a cup of tea in their hands. You had changed out of your uniform shortly after you got home, tired of its regulation skirt and button up blouse. The skirt you could have dealt with — it was actually pretty comfortable and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t worn it outside of school before — but the blouse was uncomfortable. It either was the perfect length, but too tight at the top, or it was too long and fit okay at the top.  The boys, on the other hand, didn’t plan to not be at home right now. They were stuck in their uniforms, unless they wanted to wear their practice clothes again, which you were praying against. 

    “Where’s yer parents?” You often preferred the quieter brother: Atsumu asked too many questions. 

    “Dad’s out of town.” Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could just feel the smirk on his face. “Don’t be gross.” They needed to be fed, but you were not about to subject them to your cooking. 

    “What about yer mom?” There were two ways to answer that. 

    “I don’t know.” You opened the fridge to see what you could offer. The only thing you had were some leftovers from two nights ago. As you slid the two containers of food across the counter, you continued, “I haven’t really talked to her recently. There isn’t any cell service in the afterlife.” The twins had never heard silence so loud. You turned to grab them chopsticks when you registered a soft thump behind you followed by a quiet grunt. “You can heat it up if you want. I usually eat it cold.”

    “Sorry to hear about yer mom, y/n,” Osamu offered, but you waved him off and left the kitchen. Osamu glared at his brother.

    “How was I s‘posed to know?!” 

    You don’t believe you have ever heard the twins be so quiet before. You didn’t believe that was possible, but here they were, quiet like church mice, only the delicate sound of eating filling the kitchen. It was actually kind of adorable, seeing them like that, but you couldn’t stand in the doorway watching them forever. 

    “Oi, you can borrow these,” you placed some clothes on the couch. “You need something to sleep in.” Why did your face feel warm? “I’m sorry if they’re big on you; they’re my dad’s.” 

    The boys found you sitting on the couch when they returned from changing, socked feet gently resting on the edge of the coffee table, the old binder resting in your lap, with the TV on. Progress was slow but it was steady and you found it easier to focus on getting through the chaos with some mindless noise in the background. 

    You hadn’t noticed that you were now seated between the two boys, focused on the faded notebook paper in front of you. The only things you could consistently make out were hearts, everywhere, big and small, and the same small initials, over and over again. There were some whose presence was only a ghost. It was too late at night to try to decipher it right now so you placed it in the front of the binder and moved on to the next section, flipping the beat up divider over. 

  The boys jumped when you had, coffee table now at an angle, binder landing haphazardly on the floor, and a look of disgust written on your face.

  “What in the hell did your old manager even do?” They did not know what you meant. “The bullshit I find in this binder constantly astounds me.” You picked up the binder and walked it over to the trash, shaking it over it and hoping whatever it was you just found were just raisins. Some old cheeto dust came out of the binder as you shook it over the trash can. “Nope. Nope nope nope. That’s enough for today.” You tossed the binder on the counter and went to the bathroom to wash up. 

   “What did our old manager do?” Atsumu looked at his brother. “I don’t remember her much.”

   “Me either. What did she find in there?” Osamu hadn’t finished his question before he got up and started looking through the binder, Atsumu not far behind.

   “Why did she quit anyway?”

   “She didn’t. Kita fired her.” They paused to look at the piece of paper you had been looking at a moment earlier. 

   “If you want to organize that for me, I’m not going to stop you,” they wiped around looking like they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar, “but it is part of my job.” You pointed with your head down the hall. “Come on, let me show you where you can sleep.” 

   You showed them to the room at the end of the hall. The wall of curtain lights painted the room in a gentle blue light. 

   “Is this...yer room?” A red flush found its way on Osamu’s face when he asked that question and, upon hearing that, Atsumu’s face became red too. This made you laugh.  

   “Yes. It’s cleaner than my dad’s. And the bed is bigger so you two won’t be on top of each other when you sleep. Unless you want to fight over who sleeps on the couch and who sleeps on the floor in the living room.” The brothers look at each other, but your sigh stopped them from saying anything. “It’s a bed, not a kidney. It’s not a big deal.”

Next

[letsperaltiago]

write your story on my heart: come on and make your mark

In the safety of his mom's hoodie Mac Santiago-Peralta quickly learns that his parents are quite alright if not his favorite people in this big, scary world.

or

the skin to skin-contact oneshot no one asked for 🤔

read on ao3

“One last push! You’re doing so good, honey.”

The second his powerhouse of a wife delivers her last push, fully welcoming the newest addition to their family into the world and the safety of his auntie Roro’s hands, Jake feels his entire cosmos shift and turn upside down. It’s a transition, a feeling he thought the million hours of googling and studying parenting books had prepared him for, only now realising that there is no such thing as being prepared for this very moment.

No book, binder, higher power or even the tangled depth of some Reddit-forum he’d once found could possibly have prepared him for the immense, indescribable joy he experiences rushing through every cell of his body when he hears the first, notably loud cries of his son.

Loud cries are a good sign: it means he has strong lungs, Jake remembers.

“Jake,” he’s snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Amy’s breathy whimpers. Surely she’s more than exhausted after pushing a human out of her. “He’s-” she interrupts herself when she heaves resulting in her knocking her head back against the pillow to gain a breath, meanwhile her eyes search Jake’s face for some kind of conclusion.

The strong urge to take care of them both at the same time, his son and his wife, is tearing him in two separate directions. Although he does quickly settle on turning to Amy. He knows and trusts that his newborn is safe in Rosa and, he shudders a bit at the thought, he has to admit, the fire-fighters care when he sees said glorified EMT is checking his son’s condition.

One last time, he comes to realise this will be, he immerses himself in the feeling of being just the two of them; to have eyes only for her because soon, even though he doesn’t mind one bit, his heart will officially be shared with someone else.

“Yeah, he’s here, babe. He’s here,” he lets out in an euphoric mixture of a breath, smile and sniffle as he leans in to kiss his wife’s forehead. Beneath his touch he can feel her trembling from the adrenaline, still very much red and sweaty but oh, how she’s never been more beautiful to him, and although it’s a very close second, not even clad in white on their wedding day.

His lips stay plastered there for a few seconds but somehow feels like an eternity put into slow-motion. Yes, he knows he could be attending so many other, more useful, matters, but there’s no resisting the overwhelming pride he’s currently feeling knowing his incredible wife once again, this time more than ever, has proven to be the superhero he’s always known her to be.

“You did it,” he exclaims joyously through the cry threatening to crawl up and out of his throat once his lips slip off of her skin. From his new vantage point, having pulled back the slightest, he can tell she’s crying along to the sound of their son’s furious wails, and he can’t blame her. It’s paradoxical: somehow the most beautiful and heartbreaking sound he’s ever heard.

“You’re so incredible, Ames,” the words come spilling out of his moth hopped up on adrenaline which results in them stumbling over each other but he doesn’t care. She needs to know how amazing she is.

As intimate as an interrogation room containing their best friend and some random firefighter can be, their moment runs out the second the firefighter lets them know that their baby is perfectly healthy and gently places him stomach down, wailing at the top of his lungs, on Amy’s still heaving chest. Alongside this the two freshly baked parents stare in disbelief: they created this little and so very wanted human who’s now finally, after 9 months of pregnancy and even longer time spent wanting and trying, screaming into the soft fabric of Amy’s hoodie.  

Amy’s hand are immediately drawn in, rushing to cup the tiny being in her hands, one supporting his bottom meanwhile the other his head. It’s all so much: the soft surface of his skin, the vibration coming from his screaming, and more importantly healthy, lungs resonate against hers making everything that more and finally completely real. Every ultrasound scanning, all the fluttering kicks from inside her womb and even the contractions: this kind of real beats everything prior to this moment.  Her son is really here, in flesh and blood, resting against her chest instead of bundled up inside her womb.

“He’s amazing,” she lets out with a sob as she attempts to study Mac’s every feature.

“He sure is,” Jake is quick to chime in placing a hand on his son’s back before leaning in to kiss the tiny head tenderly, of course keeping in mind the fragility of a newborn’s skull, something all the baby books have told him about. He then looks backs to his wife and kisses her lips.

Her crying almost sabotages her ability to kiss him back, but she stables herself just enough by moving a hand to rest on her husband’s cheek and then it hits her like never before that she’s currently, right then and there, holding her entire world in her hands: Jake in one and their son in the other.

McClane Santiago-Peralta. Mac.

He’s a perfect 9 pounds and 21 inches, they’re later told at the hospital; he’s soft, pink and brand new; he’s here and he’s their son.

Caught up in what feels like her life’s biggest whirlwind of a moment, kissing her husband and holding her screaming newborn, she faintly make out Rosa and the firefighter telling them they’re going to leave them alone for a while to go meet the incoming ambulance and and actual EMTs.

Jake and Amy pull apart as the door closes and encapsulates their new little family of three in the interrogation room.

“I love you so much, Jake,” she smiles both with her lips and deep brown eyes which radiate so much joy through the tears that it makes Jake shed a tear too when he tell her “I love you too. So much.”

Their attention shifts back to Mac quietly whimpering for attention having only been partly soothed by his mother’s hold and is still very much upset with the fact he’s been thrown right into such a big, bright world without warning.

“And I love you too, my baby Mac,” she coos in addition to her declaration of love as she lets go of Jake’s face to hold her still naked, probably very hungry and cold son even closer.

Although Amy without a doubt had the birthing suite Hitchcock and Scully had built her to thank for making the birth surmountable, it wasn’t exactly destined to do what it was doing right now meaning that a lack of heat was noticeable.

“Shhh, yes, I know,” she strokes the top of his head in an attempt to comfort the whimpering bundle, “it’s all so big and scary out here, but we’ll make sure you’re okay. We got you.”

Mac’s cries have definitely quieted down, lost momentum, since first appearing in their world just minutes ago but he’s still very clearly voicing discontent and Amy can feel her brand new mom-heart bleed. She mentally turns over every page of every baby book she’s ever read furiously trying to find a solution to her son’s crying and discomfort.

“Your mom’s right, bud. No need to cry. We’re here with you,” Jake bends over the gap between him and the stretcher, down to his son’s eye level as if it’ll convince him to calm down only to comprehend that a newborn probably doesn’t care about his father’s promises. Mac is a man of actions not words.

“Jake,” Amy whimpers hit by realisation, so suddenly set on one thing and one thing only and it of course immediately gains her her husband’s full attention. “Help me put him on my chest.”

A look of confusion dawns on Jake as they share a look, Amy’s eyes pleading for him to understand.

“But Ames, that’s where he already is?”

“No, like on my actual chest. Skin to skin-contact, Jake.”

It comes out matter of factly and memories of many textbook pictures of cute, tiny babies lying against their mother’s bare chest right after birth come rushing back to Jake instantly replacing his confusion.

“Oh yes, that, right! Of course.”

She briefly pauses to think although its hard when her train of thoughts is very much controlled by the worry growing within her every time Mac lets out another loud whine or cry. At least he’s on top of something soft, she thinks in an attempt to reassure herself when looking down at him and her now very messy, gooey NYPD-hoodie and then, all out of the blue, it hits her: the messy but soft and warm NYPD-hoodie. Beneath it she’s only wearing her maternity bra (she’d started wearing them already months ago once her boobs had grown too big for her regulars once: also they were way more comfortable) so surely her idea was worth the try.

“He could probably fit into my hoodie,” she wonders or rather declares out loud. Her son needs somewhere warm and safe, so, regular procedure be damned.

“I mean,” Jake studies the features of the grey piece of clothing, “it’s quite big and if you just tug down the neck whole he could probably fit in there with you.”

So they give it a try.

While Jake momentarily takes possession of his son, immediately tearing up again at the very surreal feeling of holding life, which he’s created, for the first time, Amy unclasps and removes her soft bra. In terms of the last step she tugs open, as wide as physically possible, the neck hole of her hoodie to welcome her son. It’s not pretty nor graceful but the hoodie is indeed really big (especially now that Mac is no longer in her womb) and together they manage to carefully place him to rest against his mother’s skin and under the soft material of the hoodie, only his head, under Amy’s, emerging from the neck hole. They hold their breaths for a second, both internally begging for their invention to be enough to soothe their son completely.

Amy instantly feels better knowing she’s sharing her bodily heat with her son, and, even more rewarding is the fact that it also seems to pay off: after a few more whimpers, slowly fading into barely audible sniffles, a silence lastly settles over them.

From where he’s resting chest to chest, skin to skin, with his mother, Mac finally, for the first time in his life, seems fully content and settles for dozing off as the easiest way to handle being completely knocked out by the intensity of being born.

Jake and Amy exchange a surprised, having feared the worst outcome since today already had followed a certain chaotic discourse, but ecstatic look as all there is left to be heard is the sound of approaching ambulance sirens.

“This feels incredible,” she speaks quietly in an attempt to not disrupt her son’s newfound state of peace, checking on him once more to make sure he’s not being squished by her chin, and although this time there’s fabric creating a barrier between her palms and his skin, she allows her fingers to fall into a sweeping motion across the tiny frame.  

“It looks incredible,” Jake whispers back not believing his own eyes because the scene currently playing out in front of him sure can’t be real. It’s too good, something he years ago wouldn’t even dare to dream of, and although he doesn’t want to be that person, he wants to live in the present, Jake can’t fight the urge to grab his phone and snap a picture, just one that he can make his lock screen picture the second he has a minute to do so. For now he figures it’s enough and puts his phone back into his pocket allowing him to lean in and join his wife in caressing their son.  

“Always told you you look crazy good in hoodies,” he smirks knowingly thinking of all the times he’s told her this only to be met by disagreement and dismissive comments before pecking her temple tasting small beads of sweat, salt, on his lips.

“Even now covered in placenta?” her exhausted eyes manage to throw him a teasing look ahead of redirecting to admiring Mac’s beautiful, finally peaceful being. Jake’s eyes trail behind, staying on her with the most loving look when he utters, “especially now covered in placenta,” before following her lead and looking at Mac.

The sirens from before have faded, disappeared, letting the new parents know that the ambulance must’ve reached the precinct. Despite this fact, they forget and enjoy the quiet before the storm, their first peaceful moment as a family.

All in all Mac seems pleased with his new favorite spot on his mom’s chest. Even as she holds him a bit tighter, securing him to her chest when she’s wheeled out of the integration room by a newly arrived EMT, Jake right beside her to make sure they’re alright every step of the way, Mac doesn’t budge; even in the ambulance when one of her hands leaves his back to hold Jake’s while the sirens make an encore, Mac stays quiet.

This might not be his mother’s womb but he knows he’s home.

[btwimkindagay]

6 & 33? :)

Thanks for the ask! This is a fairly long answer and writing it has kept me entertained.

6. Describe your dream home:

Okay, so please bear in mind that I could not actually afford this, but a person can dream!

I would love a house with a proper country kitchen with a tiled floor (and under floor heating for the winter), a range cooker, midnight blue or sage green shaker style doors on all the cupboards, and solid oak work tops. I'd love a big kitchen-diner with a breakfast bar, and plenty of space for my friends to sit and for work to be done. I'd love a high ceiling with rafters to hang bundles of herbs and plaits of onions and garlic from to dry ready to be pulled down and added to cooking. I'd love the room to be light and airy, and always welcoming.

I would love a library room, or at least a wall of bookshelves in one of the rooms. I love to read and I would love to lend books to my friends too. I would want some soft chairs in there, and a bay window with a cushioned bench in it, so I could curl up there in the warmth and read, or sit there during storms and watch and listen to the rain. I think I prioritise comfort and friends in a lot of these spaces when I picture them, and I would ideally like a guest room so that my friends know that they are always welcome.

I would have a huge garden! Okay maybe not huge, because I'm pretty bad at weeding, but big enough that I could keep hens and ducks! I would have a vegetable patch. I'd grow rhubarb and rocket, broccoli and beans, carrots, peas, cabbage! More importantly I would have my own little orchard- apples, pears, plums, damsons, peaches, cherries, mulberries! And fruit bushes too: redcurrant, blackcurrant, white currant, raspberries, blackberries, loganberries, strawberries! I'd want anyone who visited to be able to partake in the fruits of my labour and my happiness, almost a kind fo communion. The garden would have space to play, and explore, and to BBQ, and sunbathe, and relax. I'd like a swing, a proper study one like you find on playgrounds too, and high enough that I could swing like a child without my feet touching the floor. I'd also love a little burbling stream that ran through the bottom, not so close that it would flood the house but close enough to hear it. The stones at the bottom would be visible through the clear water in the sun, and occasionally it would throw up treasures for me to tumble. One bank would have wild garlic and three cornered leek on for me to cook with. A hot tub or pool would be a nice addition, but a stream would do it for me!

33. If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like:

Okay so this has some pictures and links as I have a 'fantasy shopping list' of things I can't afford, but I'll also talk about it because I can't include all the pictures and links or this would take weeks to write.

I would love love love to own lots of corsets in custom sizes because I have a large chest but small back relative to them. So I'm not usually well suited to over bust corsets but I love the look. I'd also like to have historical stays, and the corset shirts from corset story!

Perhaps somewhat in contradiction to all of this: several well fitting binders. I would love to be able to detach my boobs temporarily but alas they are permanent. So a couple of well fitting binders to flatten my chest would definitely be included for days when I don't want them there.

Also- boob tape so I can pull a Victoria and go shirtless in jackets.

These dressing gowns

Dresses. So many dresses. I already own about 50 from charity shops but I would buy and wear so many princess dresses, and 50s style swing dresses, and historical recreation dresses, and ball gowns!!

Lingerie to wear under blazer jackets! I like the Medusa thistle and spire bodysuits, though I'd need more support, they're a little NSFW

Boots! So many boots! Adventurer style boots especially!

Well fitting leather jackets and suit jackets! Well suits in general!

So much jewellery! I'm already a magpie in charity shops, but what I would really love to be able to afford is Victorian Bohemian garnet necklaces because they're just so nice and I love the colour

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Cormac Mcnamara Fluff HC’s and SFW Concepts (x black reader for my inclusion) (heehee)

A/N: I spent some of my time off from the hellscape that is school on starting Foreign Exchange. Yeah, I don’t care much for Hannah, she only calls poor Cormac when she needs smth, and the poor thing gets led on so. Time for me to get my fluff fix in. He deserves all of the love and hugs. So, virtually, I’m gonna do that for my little cinnamon roll. I’d be friends with him if I went to school in Ireland for some reason.

@misskittysmagicportal you’re welcome lmao

Warnings: Menstruation, most likely a mention of racism bc i like to tackle issues head on, very very mild gore

Cormac is the softest little boy in town, let me TELL YOU.

I feel like he’d be so down for cuddles, or you just watching him fiddle with his technology.

Even if you understood jack shit about it, you’d put the effort in to learn about what polarizers are.

You’re an exchange student that knows NOTHING about the portal, you’re just from America.

On the day you arrive at Okeefee’s College, you were convinced you weren’t going to fit in.

You didn’t.

Half of the people there stared at you, and gawked at your accent, and how you enunciated your t’s and didn’t whistle your s’s.

Cormac was of course, out of the way, he’s not one to socialize, new student or not.

Of course, you were in the corner, even though you should’ve sat in the front of the class. Luckily enough, you didn’t have to do much, as new students always get a pass.

You stayed below the radar for the first couple days, and never seemed to notice Cormac looking at you in class, whenever you’d shy away from answering questions about yourself. He wasn’t too familiar with anyone too much different than the masses of the school, color, interest, speech.

You were thinking of taking the LONGEST of naps after your classes finished, but those plans were quickly changed. The both of you weren’t paying attention where you were walking.

He crashed into you to say the least, and the copy of “Astrophysics for People in a Hurry” fell out of your hands, your bookmark getting lost.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was-WAIT, you’re that new girl from America, aren’t ye?” Cormac said, readjusting his glasses. You nodded, and were perplexed at his new creation, it looked like a gramophone, but with a motherboard and an antenna.

He tried to hide it from you, but he saw your gaze constantly go back to the machine, even as he snapped in front of your face.

‘You alright there? Oh, you’re looking at this. You want to hang out with me over the weekend. Maybe you can catch up from your bookmark, while I work on this.”

You confirmed, and that’s how you two became polarizing pals.

Cormac may be smarter than the library, not the porridge one, and as quick as a whip, but do NOT be shocked. He is very socially inept, and a little behind on cues, and different things.

He almost touched your hair once, without your permission, but you stopped him right in his tracks.

“Cormac, do you want your hand maimed and chopped off, then hung from the top of the flagpole.” you said, giving him a death stare.

“N-no, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?” he asked, taking his hand away, putting it back on the screwdriver.

“Well, for starters, don’t touch my hair without my permission. It’s a no-no for all people, but for black people especially. We had to have our hair cut off completely. That was our culture, and it was ripped away because we were seen as less than, nothing but an animal. So, you, taking your hand, as clean as it may be, and putting it in the fruits of my ancestors’ labor. That’s disrespectful love.” you replied, turning a page.

He has no idea, (damn education system), but he continues to learn about different cultures, especially black culture, African-American culture. The War on Drugs. He comes to you close to every day with different factoids, a good amount of them you already know, but you’re still happy that he puts effort in.

He’s a very tall lad, so expect very warm hugs from him. After a long day of school, he walks over to you, wherever you may be, and hugs you, asking how your day was. You melt into the hug, and smile against him, marveling at how consistent he is.

In classes, if there’s an odd number of people left, it’s always you, he, and Hannah. Y’all get the work done quickly, and he even lets you join them when Orienteering.

Now, you’re one smart cookie. No matter race, everyone has the power to be as smart as they can be. As well as that, they can work damn hard to get there, through all the trouble and hatred. Every now and then, a teacher might shut you down. Ask Cormac if he knows, in which he responds, but always sends you a look of pity.

A teacher could go through all of the students in a class, and not get the right answer once, and your hand stayed up through every excruciating second of it. And, begrudgingly, the teacher asks you, in which you give the correct answer, and if even a *word* is out of place, you’re ridiculed.

That always tends to upset, you, ruffle your feathers, but you don’t give in, not until you’re alone, in your dorm. Crying at the unfairness, wishing it were different.

Or in Cormac’s arms, wetting his sweater, his brain moving a mile a minute to try to say the right thing. He always held you so gently, he’s used to it. His experiments could go wrong with a moment’s change. He’s used to being patient, and tender.

He’s always trying to ask you about life in America, trying to find out what you hated, what you loved. His curiosity was never ending, it seemed. Sometimes, though, he could get a little caught up with his words, and you’d giggle at him, and help him along. This typically happened when he was trying to ask you out to go to the courtyards, or to library dates. He’d sneak food to you, and you two would have picnics near the sheep.

Whenever there weren’t too many teachers around, and when Hannah was in Perth, you two would cuddle on the grass, and sneak cheek and hand kisses in every now and then.

He’s an EXCELLENT cuddler by the way, lots of space to appreciate.

He knew mostly where you would be, and you him, but every now and then, one of ye’ wouldn’t respond to emails, but it’s usually due to an upset stomach, or too much studying. This wasn’t going to be the case ever time.

You were usually very attentive during class, doing classwork, writing down notes. However, one of these days, Cormac could tell something was wrong. Your head was down, and your binder was pressed tightly against your abdomen. Every now and then, he saw you scrunch your face in what seemed like pain, but he couldn’t put his finger on what the problem was.

It was a Friday, so you were free, and you and Cormac had plans to sleep in, and have another sheep picnic. At the moment, however, all you wanted to do was take a big fat nap, and sleep through the weekend.

As soon as class ended, you bolted out of the door, and Cormac tried to catch up, but Tara teased him, saying that you’d finally grown up, and wanted someone better than him. Your body was still, however, in too much pain to do focus.

He tried to get to you, but you were moving too fast, already halfway up the steps. He saw a portion of your khaki skirt, was red, and he began getting concerned, thinking you had began dying.

When you finished your shower, and began soaking your skirt, gone but never forgotten, you saw a cluster of emails from Cormac, asking if you were okay, dead, angry at him. Or needed medical attention. You were brought to tears, and instructed him to meet you at 7:00p.m., in front of the boy’s shower room, typically where Cormac would take you to his room, where you’d fall asleep on his bed, book on top of your face. He’d want to take a picture, and did, leaving it above his bed.

He met with you, and when he asked you if you were okay, a particularly tough cramp hit you like a truck, causing you to crumble. You groaned at the pain, and Cormac followed you down, asking if you were okay.

“Cormac, I’m cramping, just some pain.” you whispered, holding back tears

“What’re the cramps from? You eat something weird?” he asked, looking at you with concern.

“No, I’m on my period.” you said, sitting on the cold floor.

“Oh, you mean...menstruation. When you shed your uterine lining because your egg wasn’t fertilized, so now it’s coming out of your...um...lady....parts.” he stuttered, a blush forming on his face, followed by a look of concern.

You laughed at his explanation, and confirmed his suspicions, until another cramp hit you.

“Oh goodness, you must be suffering. I’ve heard that menstrual cramps are sometimes as bad as heart attacks.” he said, beginning to rub your stomach, helping soothe the pain.

You nodded again, and he led you to his room, grabbing you spare chocolate from when you were craving due to PMS, (unknowingly). He heated up a towel, and tucked you into your sleeping bag, his parallel to yours.

Tears began to escape from your eyes from his gestures, and he reached over to dry them.

“It’s okay to cry. Especially if you’re in a lot of pain. I think that it’s absolute bollocks that you feel like there’s something wrong for you for simply being human. It’s like a punishment for not getting pregnant. You didn’t ask for it.” he replied, letting you lay on top of him for the time being.

You smiled against him, but sadly woke up to more bloody underwear, and realizing that you’d leaked on Cormac. You shook him awake, and he didn’t even begin to panic, handing you a pair of spares, and a product through the door.

“Just a bit o’ blood. Nothing bleach or peroxide can’t fix.” he said, hugging you once again.

Cormac is very hesitant to kiss you on the lips. You pecked him once, and that sent him up the wall. His ears turned even more red, and his cheeks lit up.

He responded to your laughter with multiple face kisses, eventually landing one at your lips, lingering for a moment.

You cheered for his confidence, and you two went to a picnic the next day, the sheep happy to have you two there.

You felt completely over the moon to have Cormac as your partner. Even if he was a little shit sometimes, you wouldn’t have him another way.

Masterlist

[amydancepants-peralta]

your skin and bones (turn into something beautiful)

(kinda just scraping in with a Valentines/baby making love fest for our favourite couple - big thanks to @amyscascadingtabs for her Harry Potter translations, and @fezzle for being as awesome as she is.  😁🌟

* NSFW *  (ao3)

your skin and bones (turn into something beautiful)

The soles of Jake Peralta’s sneakers scuff against the wooden rungs of the staircase as he makes his way up to the apartment, making special effort to avoid that one section that always seems to groan under his weight.  The toneless whistle of a song he loves echoes through the stairwell, and he raises his right hand in silent greeting as a neighbour passes him on their way out.

Today was Valentines Day, and he’s finished the day with a specific mission in mind.  

In his left hand he carries a bag, surprisingly not heavy considering the amount of things inside - but maybe that’s just because of how jacked up he’s gotten lately (seriously, Brad Pitt - you’re going to need to get into shape, bro).  He’s got candles (vanilla scented, and the brand his wife loves), silk ties, lube, whipped cream, rose petals and a well-curated playlist of perfectly sexy songs that have never been sung by Doug Judy.  It’s a perfect mixture of sexy-timez related products, and he has no idea how he’s going to put it all together, but one thing was clear:  he was going to romance the donk out of his wife tonight.  

He’s still humming the melody to one of the songs on his playlist as he walks through their front door, too distracted by the plans formulating in his head to notice Amy’s keys are already in the bowl he throws his own keys into.  Nudging his shoes off onto the rack by the door, and hanging his jacket on the appropriate hook (because tidiness makes Amy happy, and happy wife = happy life), Jake places the bottle of wine that he’d tucked underneath his arm onto the kitchen counter, serving himself a mental note to put it on ice in a minute as he walks through to their bedroom.

There, he finds Amy - hair pulled up into a perfectly smooth top-knot, the kind that only appears when she’s in Super Organisational Amy mode - sitting at the desk that ran along the back wall of their bedroom, head bowed in concentration.  He hears the familiar stretch and snap of sticky-tape being ripped across the blade of the dispenser, and knows that he’s walked into chart-marking territory.  

“Hey, babe!”  The surprise is obvious in his voice, and deep down Jake is kicking himself that he didn’t completely read the text message she’d sent him an hour ago.  In his defence, he was busy figuring out ways to surprise and seduce his wife - but one handy part of that surprise is for Amy to not be in the house right now.

“Hey yourself!” Is her reply, craning her head backwards and extending her neck for kiss hello.  It’s a little sloppy, and not at all as hot as that Spiderman movie made Jake believe an upside down kiss would be, but the upside was that he was kissing Amy, and that’s always going to be a good thing.  “I was wondering when you were going to get home, Boyle mentioned in the group chat that you’d left over an hour ago.” Amy continued, glancing curiously at the bag still in Jake’s hand before returning her attention to the chart stretched across the desk.

“Uh, yeah … I just had to get some stuff, and things …” he mumbles, mind running into overdrive as to how he can get Operation Seduction back on track.  Distraction - distraction is key, Peralta.  “Whoa, that’s a pretty intense looking chart you’ve got going on there, Ames!”

Amy’s responding smile is as bright as it is proud, and she bites her lower lip in an attempt to hold back her glee as she pats down the final addition before holding it up.  “I made up a Conception Plan.  It’s very thorough.”  Swivelling in her chair, Amy lifts herself slightly, tucking one leg under the other for leverage as she stares down lovingly at her creation.  “The purple lines are my cycle - pink is for ovulation, and the best windows of conception have the little love hearts on them.”  Jake meets her gaze with a smile, and she continues, pointing over to the left.  “This section here is for savings, with specific goals each pay packet … underneath is the dietary options we need to avoid and when - blue is you, yellow is me; and lastly we have the fitness tracker - and before you ask, chasing perps through the streets of Brooklyn doesn’t count.”

Nodding, Jake makes a counter offer.  “Even if I’ve been chasing them for a solid hour?”

“If you’ve been chasing a perp on the streets for an hour without calling for backup, that’s on you Peralta.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”  Tucking the bag behind his body slightly, Jake leans forward to study the finer details, all marked down in Amy’s obsessively neat handwriting.  “I definitely think you’ve covered all the bases here, babe.  I’m impressed!”

Glowing slightly from the praise, Amy returns the chart to the desk before resting her weight agains the back of her chair, this time facing forwards as she seeks out another kiss from her husband.  Jake is only too happy to comply,  and he lets this one run a little longer, hoping that Amy has become distracted enough to forget about his Bag of Mystery.

Alas, he is wrong.  “So what’s in the bag, detective?”

Jake can feel his skin start to heat up as his blood rushes in, and he does he very best to remain vague while simultaneously taking a few steps backwards.  “Oh, just some stuff that I was going to … never mind, nothing important really, hey how’s that new couch of ours going?”  He swallows nervously, back pressed completely up against the dresser.  “Wanna go … relax on it?”

Amy holds his gaze for a hot minute, standing and taking a single step towards him.  “How many sneakers did you buy, Jake?”

He smiles, feeling a rush of pride come over him at Amy’s incorrect assumption.  “None, actually.”  She stares him down, and it only takes another thirty seconds for him to cave.  “Okay, fine.  I might have been trying to surprise you with some things in here.  It is Valentine’s Day, after all.”

Her eyebrows raise, and she gives him that adorably sweet smile that has always, always been a favourite.  “You did?  Let me see!”

Shrugging, Jake holds the bag to his side but doesn’t protest as Amy begins to pull the handles towards her.  “I mean, I hadn’t really figured out what I was going to do with all of it yet, but it seemed like a pretty good place to start, and ..”

“Hey, you got the good ones!”  Amy interrupts, pointing at the silk restraints and grinning.  Jake nods quickly, the memory of the night they discovered how good they were never too far from his mind.  Amy might have accidentally ripped one last time, so they are due for replacement anyhow.  “And is that rose petals I see?”

“Just like on our honeymoon,” he mumbles, rubbing his free hand along the back of his neck.  

Straightening, Amy looks over at Jake, fiddling with the collar of his favourite blue checkered shirt before toying with the buttons near his collarbone.  Her tone is light, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes when she speaks again.  “You expecting to get lucky tonight, Peralta?”

Grabbing her hand and squeezing, Jake shakes his head quickly.  “Never expecting, Ames.  I just thought … it’s probably stupid, but I thought that maybe tonight would be a really sweet night to for us to make a baby.”

Smiling, Amy lifts herself up slightly, leaving a gentle kiss against Jake’s lips.  “That would be a really sweet timeline, but I’m not really ovulating right now …”

The paper bag falls from Jake’s hand, hitting the floor with a tiny thud as his hands move to Amy’s waist, fingers tracing against the soft material of her leggings before linking behind her back.  “You know, a very wise - and very beautiful - woman once told me, that practice makes perfect.”

A tiny blush spreads onto Amy’s cheeks, and she smiles bashfully.  “She does sound very wise.”  

“Oh, she’s incredible.  Not gonna lie, she makes me heart pound just a little bit every time she smiles at me.  I’m crazy in love with her.  But, I haven’t even told you the best part.”  Loosening his grip, Jake’s hands slide deftly underneath Amy’s vintage academy shirt, making soft strokes against the skin he finds there.  “She makes the best charts you’ve ever seen.  So informative, so organised … so thorough.  And her binders?  Don’t even get me started.”

He only hears a mumbled oh god that’s hot before Amy’s lips are pressed against his, leaning down slightly to meet her kiss as she throws her arms around his neck.  

Her tongue is insistent against his, working Jake into a solid state of arousal without a great deal of effort, but that just comes down to the power his wife has on him.  His name comes out in a breathy moan as they part, tucking her head into his neck and beginning a line of tiny kisses, and without hesitation Jake bends his knees slightly, grabbing Amy’s legs and lifting before throwing her gently onto their bed.  

She’s dragging her shirt off before Jake can even climb up to join her, and he grins as it lands on the floor beside her bed, wrapping his arms around her newly bare waist and pulling her in for another deep kiss.  There’s just something about kissing Amy that he just loves - it’s an activity he hopes to do every day until the end of his days - and tonight is no stranger to the rule.  As her left hand runs through his hair, her right reaches down to rub against his growing erection, her lips curling against his as he lets out an uncontainable moan of pleasure.  “Oh god, Ames.”

Sliding his palm up the centre of her spine, Jake reaches the clasp of her bra and tries his very best to do the ‘smooth one-handed undoing of the bra’ trick that he occasionally nails.  Contracting her shoulder blades, Amy lifts herself up slightly to help him, letting out a soft chuckle at the victorious look on Jake’s face when the two ends seperate.  In mere seconds, her bra is on the floor next to her shirt, and Jake’s breath grows faster as his wife’s fingers make quick work of the buttons running down his own shirt.

His nose gets caught in the neckline of his undershirt as he yanks it off far too quickly, and he lets out a frustrated growl - turning into a smile when he sees Amy biting her lip to keep from laughing.  Then her warm hands are on the back of his neck, pulling Jake back down to her lips, and as their tongues tangle their legs follow suit.  

Amy wraps her calves around Jake’s, pushing her pelvis up to grind against the denim that still separates them, and Jake pulls away with a groan, leaving a mixture of kisses and licks to the side of her neck as he sighs - “You’re so sexy, Ames - it’s killing me.”

Her hands slide down his back, snaking around the belt line of his pants and focusing on the top button, popping it undone with the flick of her thumb.  “Jeans off, babe.  You and I are going to make a baby.”

The statement makes Jake’s heart switch into overdrive, and as he plants his knees on the mattress to help Amy push his jeans (and boxers, she’s nothing if not efficient) completely off, he leans his upper body towards his wife, resting his forehead against hers as her wriggling legs kick her leggings onto the floor.  Her eyes are piercing into his own as she holds his gaze, and Jake leans in for a chaste kiss before pulling back ever so slightly.  “We’re going to make a baby,” he repeats.  

Amy smiles, the sheer excitement of things to come obvious in her eyes as she tilts her chin upwards, meeting Jake’s lips halfway for another tiny kiss.  “I love you so much, Jake Peralta.”

Jake’s responding grin could light up the room, and he pulls Amy in for a heated kiss.  He loves her: he really, truly, endlessly loves her; and now they’re going to make a family and watch them grow, and he’s not sure if what he’s about to say is enough, but it’s the only thing he can think of right now and so he breaks the kiss, looking into her eyes as he tells her - “I love you too, Ames.  So much.”  

Her arms return to his neck, kissing him with a mixture of fierceness and passion that only Amy Santiago can bring, and honestly life right now cannot get better (but then her hips push up, and he feels the soft fabric of her underwear rub against his cock, and life is instantly infinitely better). 

Starting a chain of kisses that begin at the edge of Amy’s mouth and dot along her jawline, Jake shuffles slightly down, leaving gentle nips against her collarbone as he descends.  By now, Amy’s head has pushed further into the pillow, her once neat bun now a frazzled mess as she twists her neck to the feeling of her husband’s lips against her skin.  

Bypassing her breasts, Jake follows the subtle line of her torso down towards her stomach, sighing against her skin as he leaves feather-light kisses against his favourite spots.  This was the body of the woman he loves, the woman that he’s pledged to the world that he will spend the rest of his life loving, and he knows her canvas better than his own.  He knows the tiny flecks of moles and scars that make up who she is, has studied and memorised the map of her curves (and travels them often).  His breath is hot against her skin, causing shivers to rise up as his tongue circles the edge of her belly button, and all Jake can think of is how soon, this body that he knows so well will be changing day by day.  That life will be growing inside of Amy - a life that is wholly theirs, the ultimate chance for new beginnings - and the only thing that scares him now is how can his heart possibly grow any bigger?

Running his palm along Amy’s lower back, Jake makes his way back up to her chest, running the tip of his nose against of her left breast, and Amy sighs his name in reverence.  For a second, he remembers that all of the items he’d purchased for the express purpose of seducing his wife are still sitting unforgotten in their carry bag, and he smiles.    

“So, I’ve been thinking.”  Jake begins, circling her nipple with his tongue and scraping his teeth across the erect point, glancing up in time to watch Amy shiver under his touch.  “This whole baby making thing.  I think we should definitely do this whole conception planning thing the Amy way …  but in a minute, I’m going to show you the Jake way.”

“Mmm … yes, the Amy way sounds good,” Amy moans, moving one hand into Jake’s hair and curling the strands around her fingers.  

Starting a line of kisses from the middle of Amy’s chest, Jake works his way down his wife’s torso, paying special attention to the point on her hip that only a week ago housed a bruise from work.  “We’re going to run things to a very specific schedule,” he whispers into her belly, kissing the edge of her ribs.  “Reduce our alcohol intake, check your basal temperature every morning…” Reaching her underwear, Jake presses a kiss against the moisture he finds there, pulling back slightly as Amy’s hips jerk up towards his touch.  “Actually start using that gym membership we’ve been paying for.”

Amy’s grip on his hair increases, and her hips lift upwards again in a silent beg for her underwear to be removed completely.  Tucking his fingers into the edges, Jake complies with her request, tugging the material off and casting it behind him before returning his attention to Amy, totally unable to wipe the smile off his face as the evidence of just how aroused she was is now completely evident.  

“Jake …”

Kissing the inside of her thigh, Jake rests his cheek against her leg for a moment, temporarily caught up in the feelings rising up from the combination of Amy’s fingers scraping against his scalp and the burning look in her eyes as she watches him move closer and closer to where she wants him so desperately.  “I’m going to start eating more vegetables, and those nuts you were telling me about …” He leans forward, kissing her just to the right of where he knows she wants him to kiss her.  “I’m even going to drink more water for you, babe.”  At that, he attaches his lips to her clit, sucking gently in the way that he knows will drive her crazy, and Amy’s head disappears completely into the pillow as she lets out a strangled moan.  

His fingers join in shortly after, gathering the wetness they find there and circling her clit gently, and when Amy’s hips lift clear off the bed Jake flicks his wrist, using his nimble thumb to continue the circles while his fingers dip inside her core.  It never stopped being amazing, watching his so neatly put together wife fall apart at the seams from his touch, listening to her call out swear words that truly nobody would ever believe her to say.  While one hand stays to work Amy up, Jake reaches down with his other, gripping his dick and succumbing to the need for a few short strokes up and down.  He knew that normally Amy would be 100% down for returning the favour, but right now all he could think about was pushing deep inside his wife and letting his instincts take over.

It doesn’t take long for Amy to be completely worked up, and Jake isn’t entirely sure if it’s all from his actions or a leftover response to Organised Chart Making, but either way he’s counting it as a win when her fingers tighten in his hair, pulling just hard enough that it should probably hurt, throwing her legs open wider as the sensations clearly begin to overtake her.

Reaching her free hand back to tug distractedly at the elastic in her hair, Amy cranes her neck back as it all falls away, choosing to grip the sheets as she moans what Jake thinks might be his name.  He returns his tongue back to her clit, lapping up the evidence of her arousal, and a second later she’s climaxing, her walls pulsating against Jake’s fingers as she cries out above him.  

His hands stroke the outside of Amy’s thighs as she slowly comes down from the high, reaching up to kiss her soft lips and letting out a sigh when she seeks the taste of herself on his tongue.  “Holy mother of … babe, that was awesome.”

“Babe that was awesome, title of our sextape.”  

Amy grins, showing off her perfectly pearly whites as she raises one hand in a high five.  “Damn right it is.”  She grips his hand before he has a chance to pull away, tugging it towards her and leaving a kiss against his palm, and Jake shifts until his body is completely above her.  His erection - now painfully stiff - rubs against her bare belly, and he bites down on his lower lip in a poorly concealed attempt at hiding his need.

He really shouldn’t have bothered though, because Amy is already twisting her torso just so, using the closeness of their bodies to rub against Jake repeatedly, and THIS - this is how he’s going to go insane.  Her smile turns sly as she reaches down to take hold of him, pumping her wrist in those slow, sinuous movements that have literally made him see stars in the past.  “Ahh .. Ames … that feels so …”

Her voice is heavy, full of arousal, and her eyes draw him in deep.  “I love you, Jake.  And I love the family we’re going to make together.”

There are very few words flowing through Jake’s mind right now (in all honesty, most of the blood in his body has definitely gone further south), and it’s possible he murmurs back that he loves her too, but there’s a good chance that coherency has gone straight out the window.  Amy’s hand falls away a few moments later, and she winks at him as his eyes finally return back to focus.

“So,” she practically purrs, her legs wrapping around his waist in a perfectly practised move that lines her pelvis up with Jake’s. “You mentioned something about ‘the Jake way’?”

Digging his teeth into his lower lip, Jake dips his head to give Amy a heated kiss, pulling away just as she starts to get into it.  “The Jake way, my darling wife ..” Another kiss, and the head of his cock lines up against her entrance.  “Is me fucking you until you scream.”  At the last word, Jake thrusts forward, entering Amy in one smooth but forceful stroke, eyes trained carefully on his wife as she gasps at the sudden feeling of all of Jake inside her.  

Her fingernails are sharp as they dig into his back but Jake feels no pain - only pleasure - as he repeats his purposeful thrusts, steady and deliberately timed as Amy’s head pushes back into her pillow.  It’s harder than he usually moves, the overwhelming need to just thrust stronger than normal, but whenever his eyes flutter open they’re watching Amy carefully.  They both like this sometimes, just as much as they enjoy going gently, and he knows to listen out for the safe word they’d decided on years ago (Boyle.  A sweet man, but an instant mood killer when it comes to sex).

But there comes no protest, only moans for more, and so Jake rears up slightly, resting his forearms on the mattress and pushing harder into Amy, the sheer sensation of her muscles clenching around him sending him dangerously close to the edge.  

“Oh god, Jake … yes .. just like that.” Amy’s eyes are squeezed shut, and her legs tighten their grip around his waist as he really goes to work, lowering his hips slightly so that his pelvis brushes against her clit as he pounds into her.  “Right there babe .. don’t … don’t stop.”

Lowering his head, Jake licks a line of sweat away from Amy’s neck, unable to resist the chance to taste her any way that he can as he continues to thrust in and out, mindless declarations of love falling from both of their mouths.  One hand sliding down to grip his butt as the other returns to his hair, Amy digs in with all of her might as she stutters out a YES, pulling herself closer to Jake’s body as she screams out in climax.  

The feeling of her convulsing around him has never been something he can control his reaction to, and it only takes a few more thrusts before Jake is tumbling over the edge with her, sinking his teeth into Amy’s shoulder as he feels himself release inside her.  

Truly, if this is what practising for making a baby is going to be like, he’s going to need to clear his schedule completely.  

Their bodies are sweaty and Jake’s legs are shaking more than just a little when he finally pulls out, lungs working overtime to regulate his breathing as he collapses onto the mattress beside Amy, left arm thrown above his head in open invitation for any and all future snuggles.  

He’s still breathless when his head turns to left and catches Amy looking at him, and together they start laughing.  

Turning onto her side and pushing her sweaty hair away from her face, Amy looks at Jake like the cat who got the cream, stating - “I gotta say, I’m a really big fan of the Jake way.” 

Jake grins, resting his right hand against his chest and noticing just how hard his heart is still beating.  “I never back down from a Peralta guarantee, babe.”

Amy nods, biting her lower lip softly as her eyes travel over to the paper carry bag abandoned on the floor.  “I gotta say, you really had pulled out all the stops with your plans to make tonight romantic, babe.”  She chuckles softly.  “Even if we didn’t end up using any of it.”

Shrugging in what he can only hopes seems casual - because there are still times when praise feels foreign to him - Jake twists his mouth to the right before replying.  “I mean … if everything goes to plan, this could end up being our last Valentines Day with just the two of us.  So, I kinda figured … go big or go home, right?  Maybe I went a little overboard ..”

Grabbing the throw from the bottom of their bed and wrapping it around her back; Amy shakes her head, shuffling along the mattress until she’s resting her weight on top of Jake’s chest.  Her left arm curls up, bending at the elbow to turn into a headrest, and the feeling of Amy Santiago’s naked skin against his truly hasn’t ever lost it’s appeal.  “Nope.  You did good, babe.”  Stretching her legs out, Amy winks.  “Real good.”

“Yeah?”

Amy nods.  “So much so, that I’m going to let you do something that I didn’t think I’d ever let you do again.”

“You mean …?”

“I do mean.”  Her voice drops to a whisper.  “Go on, I know you want to.”

Nibbling slightly on his lower lip, Jake breaks out into a smile as he reaches out, cupping Amy’s cheek in his hand.  He closes the distance with a soft kiss, and then whispers as they part - “Mischief managed.”

Her eyes are rolling when he pulls away - full of love, but rolling all the same - and she laughs softly.  “It doesn’t even make sense, babe!  Mischief managed?  What are we wiping clean here, exactly?”

“It’s all part of the wonderfully wizardry magic that is making a brand new human, Ames!”

With a gentle slap Amy’s hand falls back onto Jake’s chest, her head following quickly after as she dissolves into giggles.  Her ribcage bounces against Jake’s hand as he wraps his arms around her, and briefly the memory of he makes me laugh flashes through his mind.  

“I love you so much, Amy.  And I know we obviously won’t know for sure for a while yet, but I really feel like we might have made a baby tonight.”

Amy hums, the familiar warmth of her breath tickling his chest hair as she lets out a sigh of total contentment.  “I feel like maybe we did, too.”

Jake toys with the ends of Amy’s hair, marvelling at the consistent softness of it all, and for a moment they just lay together in silence.  

He waits until Amy is stretching out towards the lamp on her beside, flicking the switch off before piping up with one last idea.  “Okay so … hear me out.  If ‘mischief managed’ is still off the table, how about … ‘Mind if I Slytherin?”

“JAKE!”

[deejadabbles]

Crime and Consequence (Atem x Reader) Chapter Three

Three: The Namesake

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// [Five coming soon]

Summary: Years have passed since Atem's crimes came to light. Years have passed, but in some cases the wounds of that time were still fresh. Despite that, however, you've done your best to rebuild your life for you...and for your son. So, when Atem's crimes come back to hurt you and your boy, how will you survive and protect what little you have left?

Years have passed since Atem last saw you. Years have passed, and he had never been able to meet his son. Despite that, Atem carried on with his life, as limited and meaningless as it was, locked away for his crimes. So, when a threat is made against the only ones he still holds dear, how will he defend the love of his life and his boy?

(Modern, season 0 inspired AU. Contains some disturbing themes, depictions of violence, cursing/vulgar language, and sexual content.)

A.N. At first I intended for this chapter to cover something completely different, for it to just jump into the action, but then I got caught up in some of the emotions I imagined for this series and...yeah. So, it'll be another chapter until things start heating up, I'm sorry lol. I guess it also doesn't help that I keep thinking of more stuff I want to add to this series, even though I intended it to be kinda short at first *shrug emoji* Anyway, hopefully you guys still like this chapter!

A fit of coughing brought you out of your stupor, eyes snapping open and darting to the man walking beside you. Yes, walking, you had been half asleep but still managed to walk down the street with your son and surrogate grandfather.

Sugoroku’s face turned pink before his coughing died down, and he took a sharp intake of breath as you rubbed his back in comfort.

“Have you been taking your medicine?” you asked gently, and the old man offered you a small smile.

“Every morning and evening. Don’t worry about me, my dear.”

That was impossible. Even without your innate compassion, one of the things that made you a good nurse, this man had been invaluable to you in the past years, a life preserver that had kept you and your son afloat; how could you not worry about someone you cared so much for?

“I’m going to send you some instructions on breathing exercises that might help, since your doctor didn’t seem to bother giving them to you.”

Again with that reassuring smile, Sugoroku patted your hand with affection, “It pays to have a nurse in the family when you’re this old,” he laughed at his own joke and looked ahead again, though the sidewalk was hardly crowded.

The tiny fingers around your other hand tightened and you looked down at Yugi, who was giving his great-grandfather a concerned look with his soft lavender eyes. When you gave him a gentle nudge, he looked up at you and seemed to ease with the assuring smile you gave him.

“Don’t worry, grandpa!” Yugi said, that bright expression on his face, the one that could warm even the most dour of moods. “We’ll be there soon and then you can sit down and take a nap!”

You and Sugoroku chuckled at that, “Hey now, I may be old but I don’t need a nap after every walk!” After a moment his eyes darted up to you, likely taking in the dark circles that seemed to be a constant accessory of your face. “Besides, I’m thinking that you’re needing a nap more than me.”

You only answered with a shrug. Sure, visiting friends after a ten-hour shift might take its toll, but you’d be damned if you gave up this time with the people you considered family.

Barely a minute later the three of you finally reached your destination and rang the doorbell to Mai and Jonouchi’s apartment. A loud call to ‘come on in’ answered from inside and your trio were greeted by half a dozen people a moment later.

As you had expected, Honda elbowed Duke out of the and crouched low, extending his arms to Yugi, “Come give your favorite uncle a hug!” he said, though was immediately toppled over by Jonouchi, donning an apron.

“As if! If anyone’s getting a hug first, it’s me!”

This was a typical routine at these get-togethers, everyone doting on little Yugi and making a friendly game of claiming they were the little one’s favorite. You had to stifle an outright guffaw as both men’s hopes came crashing when Anzu, always one to take matters into her own hands, simply stepped up and scooped a happily squealing Yugi into her arms.

“I’m the one who’s been on tour for three months, so I get the first hug!” she declared before planting a kiss on Yugi’s cheek and earning tiny arms flung around her neck in an embrace.

As Yugi went on about how much he missed his Auntie Anzu, both Honda and Jonouchi muttered their annoyance. Anzu also took the time to give you and Sugoroku hugs, though never let the little guy go. Only when everyone wandered back to their seats and Jonouchi was dragged back into the kitchen by his sister did Anzu finally set Yugi down, promising him that if he was patient, she would give him a present she had bought him while on tour.

The look she cast your way after the words silently told you that she was wanting to talk to you about something too. So, after Yugi proudly stated that he would be good and patient as long as it took to get his present, you gently told him to go sit on the couch with Ryou and Mai so you could have a more private word with your old friend.

“How’ve you been?” she asked, eyes darkening just a bit with worry.

Much like you had with Sugoroku, you shrugged, “About the same as usual, I guess.”

Anzu nodded, “Jonouchi told me what happened with that yuppy school, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, we’ll figure something out, we always do.” When you smiled to reassure her, she smiled back before waving you over to the chair set you two usually sat in.

“I cleaned out an old storage unit before I left on tour, and I found something that I wanted to give out to everyone, just didn’t have a chance to before I left.” From her purse, she withdrew a framed picture. She gave it a look over, something warm and affectionate, but still somber crossing her eyes before she handed it to you. “I found it in an old school binder, it's better than most of the pictures from then.”

Your eyes went wide the moment they fell on the photo, and your chest gave a small ache that was bittersweet. You, Jonouchi, Honda, Anzu, and the first Yugi, the man you had considered a brother, all smiled back from the picture. All of you were young and awkward-looking, preteens about to enter high school, pulling silly faces at the camera and hanging on to each other with youthful giddiness. It wasn’t a surprise when your eyes focused mostly on the friend who had been taken from you just three short years after the photo was captured. Yugi was blushing slightly, squished between you and Anzu with Jonouchi leaning on his back, but his smile was so bright and happy- elated that he got to share this moment with good and dear friends.

“Thank you, Anzu,” you said, and looked up at her with genuine gratitude, “I have a few pictures like this, but, not enough.”

The woman nodded, a look of understanding answering you, “Yeah, none of us have enough.”

A moment later, Anzu was distracted by Mai, who was telling her to back her up with a light argument that had started between her and Honda. When she got up to assist, it left you to look down at the picture a few moments longer, letting yourself get lost in old memories. The background was Yugi’s old room, a setting all of you remembered well, trading cards and stacks of video games littering the floor behind you.

However, the longer you looked, the more you realized that the photo may have been taken just days- perhaps even the same day, that you had met Atem.

“No way!” Jonouchi scoffed, eyes narrowing at Anzu.

The brunette simply crossed her arms in defiance, “Yes way, pay up, jerk face!”

You laughed, loving the nearly scandalized look on said ‘jerk face’s’ face. “She beat you fair and square, you better pay up.”

“Come on, dude, be a man and just admit defeat,” Honda yawned, obviously eager to get his turn on the Nintendo console next.

Jou turned to face Yugi, who was trying and failing to hide his amusement at the situation. “Yug, back me up here, she cheated!”

“Excuse me!?” Anzu yelled, making the blonde jump and wince.

Yugi didn’t hide his laughter that time and, in the moment of Jou’s distraction, he threw you a knowing wink. “She didn’t cheat, Jonouchi, she just played the game,” he assured.

“And ripped your head off in the process,” you laughed, admiring the words ‘fatality’ flashing across the screen.

Finally, Jou conceded and handed over the crumpled dollar bills Anzu had won in her Mortal Kombat victory. You might have felt sympathy for your male friend, considering you and Anzu had both improved your skills by battling Yugi, the practical master of the game, over the weekend. But, considering Jounouchi had said something about girls never being able to beat his skills, you didn’t feel bad at all.

In fact, you challenged him next and said that if you beat him in the first round, he’d have to bow before you and Anzu and acknowledge you as video game queens. Always a prideful young man, he had of course accepted.

Halfway through the battle, Yugi excused himself, promising to come back with snacks, much to everyone’s delight. Not two minutes later the bet was settled. You won, of course, also decapitating Jonouchi’s character with the final move you had practiced over and over again with Yugi.

After you and an equally smirking Anzu took a moment to tease the bowing Jounouchi, you noticed that Yugi hadn’t come back yet and instantly hopped up to go help him.

After padding into the kitchen you saw that Yugi was rummaging through the fridge, back turned and unsuspecting to your presence. A smirk crossed your face as a childish idea came to mind. With careful steps, you crept closer to the unwitting Yugi and the moment you were close enough, you threw your arms around his back in a bear hug.

“You wouldn't believe the look on his face when I beat him, it was priceless!” you cheered as you tried to lift him up.

It was then that you took notice to Yugi being...quite a bit taller than you remembered. A confused noise left him, followed by a stuttered something that might have been ‘excuse me?’ and it caused you to pull back and look up (up!) at his face.

Heat flooded your cheeks when you were met by a pair of eyes that were similar to, but very different from your cute, shy friend. His whole face looked a bit more mature, again he was taller, and he was looking back at you with complete shock.

“Oh!” You instantly released him and jumped back as if burned. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were Yugi!”

The red-faced boy blinked at you as you tried to smooth over the scene with an awkward laugh, and thankfully, a moment later, he gave his own shy smile. “It’s okay, people confuse us a lot.”

“You must be Atem,” you hurried on, desperate to dissipate the lingering awkwardness, “Yugi talks about you all the time.”

Indeed he did. Yugi’s brother was two years his senior, and Yugi had been hoping to introduce you and the others to him for some time. Yugi always said that his brother was typically busy studying, usually at the library when any of you came over and the book bag slung on the counter supported that. With the way Yugi went on about his big brother, you honestly had started to envision him as some sort of dashing hero straight out of an anime.

Of course, when Atem’s shy smile turned to more of a knowing smirk, that vision didn’t exactly prove false. Oh dang, he was really cute!

“Yes, I’m Atem, and you must be one of the friends my brother raves about, he’s been hoping for us to meet. So, are you Anzu or-”

You interrupted him with your name, practically yelling it, and the moment the introduction left your lips you cringed, almost wanting to curl up in a ball of shame for the awkward terribleness of your action. The heck was wrong with you?!

Clearing your throat you repeated your name, much more calmly and evenly that time, and willfully ignored the burning sensation across your cheeks.

Thankfully, Atem seemed to be every bit the gentleman Yugi painted him to be, because he only gave a lighthearted chuckle at your awkwardness, then nodded his head, that smirk turning more warm as he said, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He stared at you a moment, then opened his mouth to say something more, only to be interrupted by a cheerful voice. “Atem, you’re home!” When you both turned, you saw Yugi coming down the hallway, practically beaming at you both. “And you’ve already met one of the gang!”

“I have. I’m glad I’ve finally come home early enough to meet your friends,” Atem said, eyes shifting back to you and lingering, “I hope we can become friends too.”

You smiled back at him, “Don’t worry, if you’re half as cool as Yugi, I’m sure me and the others are going to love you!” you made sure to flash Yugi a wink, wanting to giggle at how he instantly turned red at the compliment.

Electing to ignore your words, Yugi stepped into the kitchen and started pulling chips from the cupboard. “Come on, help me pick out some snacks and you can come play video games with us, Atem.”

The older brother, who was smirking again, obliged by nodding his head and turning back to the fridge. A few moments later he drew back with some dip and canned drinks, to which you instantly jumped in to help carry.

“So, you’re in Yugi’s class, right?” Atem asked as the three of you turned towards the hallway and started back to Yugi’s room. “That means you’ll be starting at Domino High in just a few months?”

You nodded, “Yup! First year of high school, pretty exciting! I’m glad all of us are going to the same school, it’d suck to find awesome friends just to go to separate schools later.”

Something in Atem’s gaze seemed to soften a bit, and a brief question passed your mind, wondering (maybe even hoping?) if he was already becoming fond of you.

“Well, if you- or if any of Yugi’s friends need help getting used to the school when you start, please, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Again some warmth crept onto your face. Maybe it was just the allure of a ‘mature high school boy’ being so nice to you (ridiculous, considering he was barely two years older than you) but this Atem boy was already seeming to have an..interesting affect on you.

“I- yeah, sure thing!”

A sudden voice made you jump in your seat and your head snapped around up, gaze tearing away from the photo to meet a pair of green eyes. Duke was leaning against the back of your chair, looking down at you with that trademark almost soft, almost flirty look on his face.

“Sorry- uh, what’d you say?” you asked, trying to recollect yourself.

“The picture, I said I was hoping to find out that Honda used to wear braces of something,” he flicked a finger to the photo still clutched tightly in your hand, but the joke fell flat on your now melancholy mood.

Still, you managed to smile at him and joke as well, “Nope, just the general awkwardness of the teenage years.”

He snerked at that, but his eyes narrowed, possibly sensing the cover-up. Though Duke (like Ryou and Mai) had joined your close-knit friend group later, in high school, he too knew what it had been like to lose Yugi; to go through that tragedy. But he also knew that it had hit you particularly hard.

“You okay?” he asked, voice lowering so only you could hear, “You look exhausted. Beautiful, as always, but exhausted.”

Another concerned friend. Another who wanted to help, but, though you were endlessly thankful for the support, truth be told there wasn’t really much they could do. So again, you shrugged.

“Just long hours at work, as usual. I’ll be okay when tomorrow comes round.”

“You still go to the park with the little guy on your days off?” Duke asked and you nodded in answer.

Only when the weather turned bad did you not go, and even on those days you made sure to make time to spend with Yugi. It was hard to keep up with him some days, even given your own young age, but he needed to know that you were there for him. That he would never be ignored or pushed aside, despite how tirelessly you had to work.

“Speaking of our favorite kiddo,” Duke began in your silence, taking the chair beside you with a graceful plop, “there was something I wanted to ask you.” He looked you in the eyes, as if asking permission, and when you nodded he went on. “So, there’s this gaming convention going on in New York in a couple months, I’m going so I can promote my new game and...I wanted to ask if you wanted to come.”

Despite your eyes going a bit wide at the suggestion, Duke hurried on, though always keeping that cool and calm air of his.

“I just thought it’d be good, for you and Yugi. You haven’t been able to take a proper vacation in years, and you deserve- need a break. I can book the hotel for a few extra days after the con, and we can do all sorts of stuff in the city. And don’t worry, I can cover all the expenses, all you and Yugi have to do is come.”

You were speechless, struck dumb by the bold proposal. You weren’t oblivious, you had always suspected that Duke’s high school crush on you never completely faded. He was always offering his help, always showing that he was good with Yugi, maybe even subtly hinting that he didn’t mind the role of stepfather. Still, he never crossed too many lines and had never done something quite this...forward. Though you guessed he wasn’t actually implying any romantic motives.

Instead of becoming nervous over your silence, Duke’s smile just softened a bit, perhaps slightly disappointed, but not outright annoyed or even discouraged. “No pressure, I just wanted to make the offer. You and Yugi deserve some fun and I saw a good opportunity for it. You can think about it as long as you need, just, promise me you will think about it?”

For a moment, you only answered him with more stunned silence, but after a second to recover, you closed your eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Duke, I promise I’ll think about it.”

Some hope returned to that smile, and he nodded in turn. He might have said more on the matter, but a call of “Mommy!” drew your attention. A second later Yugi was climbing into your lap with the grace of a newborn fawn, waving an odd-looking box around.

“Mom, lookie what Antie Anzu gave me! Isn’t it awesome?”

“Really, you had to give it to him right before dinner?” Jonouchi griped as he stepped out of the kitchen, casting a vexed look at a proud Anzu while drying his hands off on his apron.

The blonde acting like an annoyed grandma actually made you laugh. “Don’t worry, Jonouchi, he can play with it while I make his plate, then he can put it away until he’s done eating.”

At the compromise, one that Yugi didn’t seem to object too (he had always loved his Uncle Jou’s cooking, after all), the man sighed and waved everyone into the kitchen. “Alrighty then, come on, all, dinner’s served!”

Atem worked with swift and methodical hands. The very little that he had in his cell, all of it was being implemented in the plan that his mind had laid out in minutes, and refined over these past two days. The lighter he had stolen from Ushio was tucked in his sleeve, and all the numerous fan letters he had received in his imprisonment were laid out before him.

Fan letters, Atem didn’t particularly care for the term, but that’s what they were.

Letters from people who had their loved ones taken from them by the vermin Atem wiped from the world. From survivors who still struggled from what was done to them, but slept at least a fraction more soundly knowing Atem had rid the streets of their abusers. Then still others from people who simply thought he was a hero, a dark avenging angel, like Batman or the Punisher.

Over the years he had been thankful for the letters because they helped him keep his mind, stuck in this isolating hole, and now they would help him save his family. Anything could become a weapon in the hands of someone who was determined or desperate enough.

And Atem had both in spades.

For instance, fold enough pieces of paper in the right shape a certain number of times, and they became as sturdy and reliable as a metal ice pick. Well, sort of. He could get one, maybe two if he was quick, fatal injuries out of it before the blood soaked through and made it a limp, useless mess. But he didn’t intend to need it for anything more than that, so this would do just fine.

He mused as he worked, wondering if his admirers who thought he was some righteous knight would think it fitting or honorable to have their letters used against criminals. Used so he could have a chance at stopping drug peddling filth from laying hands on his loved ones.

The only things that were left untouched in his cell, were the four pictures he treasured, your letters, and the few letters his grandfather had sent him.

His grandfather, yet another person he had betrayed, another person burdened by Atem’s sins. Atem had been surprised when his grandpa contacted him, and even more surprised by what that letter said. In essence, he had said that as a man, he wished Atem had never started his bloody mission, but, as a brokenhearted grandfather who had to bury his too gentle and too young grandson, he understood and forgave Atem’s actions. “I won’t pretend I didn’t feel a sick sense of justice when that beast was found dead,” Sugoroku had written, “Not after what he did to my, to our Yugi.”

He had also promised to take care of you and the child you were carrying as much as he could, and Atem felt at least the sparks of happiness knowing he hadn’t left you completely alone. Not that the solace lasted long in this pit that swallowed hope and humanity like a ravenous dog, but still, it helped. “She had to move out of the apartment, too many people leaving death threats on her door and throwing rocks through the windows, but she’s okay. She’ll live with me for now, and hopefully this old man can still take care of a baby while she’s at work and such. Don’t worry, Atem, we’ll be okay.”

Unfortunately, in order to maintain a distance from Atem that was important to his, yours, and Yugi’s future, his grandfather’s correspondence were even more infrequent than yours. But, at least the man who had been more a father to him than his birth father kept him informed on your well being; something you had always omitted from your own letter, always only talking about Yugi. “She works too hard,” grandpa’s last letter from over two years ago had said, “I tried to get her to stay here, with me, but she has this idea that her and Yugi are a burden on me, and wants to be more independent now that Yugi’s a little older. At least she still lets me watch him several times a week, but I still worry. You can tell she wants to give that boy the whole world, always making him laugh and smile, spoiling him as much as she can. You picked a good one, Atem.”

The updates were always bittersweet, simultaneously leaving Atem with a sour taste in his mouth but an elated lightness in his chest. The words connected him to you, made him able to feel like he was still a part of your life, at least by proxy, much like your letters about Yugi did. But, at the same time, they made regret and anger and even some palpable self-loathing coarse through him like poison.

At least with this, this daring plan and mission to protect you, at least with this he might prevent any more harm from being done.

Atem examined his weapons; three simple picks, methodically made and more than enough for his plan. He tucked them up his sleeve with the lighter, folding the cuffs just right to hide them. He still had some time before the guards came to escort him outside, for his minimal privilege of sunlight.

With that time Atem pulled out the things he treasured even above yours and grandpa’s letters; his pictures. The first, the one of his newborn son wrapped in the softest purple blanket. The second, a picture of his boy on his second birthday, icing all over his face, smile wide, and bright with youthful glee as he presented his still wrapped present to the camera. The third, also of his son, excited eyes wide and held in the arms of his great-grandpa as the old man presented him with a deck of trading cards; it was the one you had sent with your last letter, almost a year ago.

The final one was the only picture Sugoroku had sent Atem. It wasn’t one of his son, but rather, of himself and the boy his son was named after. A younger, happier, perhaps more stable, version of Atem smiled a small smile at the camera, holding his diploma in one hand, while the other was wrapped around his little brother’s shoulder, said brother side hugging him back and beamed with pride. Sugoroku had said he made a copy, knowing Atem would treasure having a picture of the first Yugi, and the old man was all too right.

Atem stared at the picture now, eyes locked on the large round ones of his little brother, the boy he had wanted to protect and champion for- the boy he had failed. He had failed to do what big brothers should always do. When Yugi needed him most, Atem hadn’t been there to save him.

It hurt. Gods damn him, did it still hurt. But at least in this picture, in this captured moment before the beginning to his end, he could remember a happier time. A happier him.

“My boy’s growing up too fast!” Sugoroku cried after snapping the picture of his grandsons, wiping a fake tear away with a dramatic sigh.

The two boys exchanged a look that bordered eye-rolls as they parted from the hug, but Yugi’s beaming grin was back in an instant. “Come on, time to let everyone else embarrass you with congratulations!” he said, taking the diploma from Atem’s hands and setting it safely on the kitchen counter.

Yugi practically dragged Atem into the living room, where all those gathered cheered and clapped the moment they entered. Atem scanned the room, noting that everyone in ‘the gang’ was there, which made him smile. Unfortunately, the only other ones in the room were a couple of neighbors who had always liked the Mutou family. One key player was missing, not that Atem had expected any better.

“He said that he couldn't make it back from Tokyo in time,” Yugi whispered to him, noticing the way Atem’s eye’s searched. Yes, couldn’t, so wouldn't bother coming home at all, most likely. Honestly, their father could be the poster boy for ‘absent parent of the year’.

Still, Atem made himself push the tendrils of disappointment aside and patted Yugi on the back. At least everyone else important to him was there, and Atem would make sure that was enough.

Yugi was determined to do the same, apparently, because he quickly began ushering Atem into the room while the rest of the gang stood up to greet him more intimately. It was only after Jonouchi gave his arm a light punch, and Anzu gave him a hug, that Atem took notice of something else his little brother might be scheming. Especially when Yugi practically shoved him in your direction, saying that the seat beside you was reserved just for him.

Atem felt his mind go blank when he locked eyes with you, especially with that sweet, beaming, and very (very) cute smile on your face. “I’m so happy for you!” you said and put your arms around him in a loose hug.

Still faltering, something he had never really experienced until you, Atem could only answer with a short thank you and an awkward pat on your back. When you sat back down and urged him to take the seat next to you, Atem didn’t waste the chance to shoot a narrowed look at his little brother.

Yugi only grinned back at him knowingly and passed out drinks to the other guests as if he hadn’t done anything. Always one to be in-tune with the emotions of others (especially his big brother), Yugi had noticed when Atem’s feelings for you started to shift passed friendship, likely before even Atem himself had known. It was true that Atem was fond of you...more fond than he had been of anyone before; you made his chest warm, and his heart accelerate. You drew him in without even trying, with your voice or smile alone. You made him unsure of himself, made him flounder in a way he had never experienced before. He was certain that he was falling quite deeply in love with you.

But, there was little he could do, and nothing he would do about those feelings. You were still in high school, and now that he was of age, a legal man entering adulthood, it felt wrong to have those feelings for you, and he refused to do anything that even had the possibility of taking advantage of you. And of course, not only did it feel wrong, but it was also now technically illegal to do much of anything about his feelings. Besides wallow in them and silently suffer, of course.

Despite telling Yugi all of that, the boy was still determined to “test the boundaries” and “lay the groundworks” for the day that Atem was able and willing to do something about his feelings. To Atem, the acts were equal parts annoying, and endearing. Part of him hated that he was forced to confront his feelings for you when Yugi meddled, feelings that made his mind muddled and his chest ache. But still, another part of him appreciated Yugi’s attempts, appreciated that he had this...excuse to get closer to you, to revel in the way you made him feel, even if it was only for a moment before he made himself pull away.

Like now, for instance. You were sitting close to him, completely unaware that the warmth of your body spilling onto him and the subtle scent of your perfume was practically making him dizzy- yet still, he delighted in it. He delighted in the way you made him feel, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch your hand or arm, to test the waters and see if you might reciprocate. But he did resist the urge. For now at least. Maybe in a couple of years, when it didn’t feel wrong, he would see if you had similar feelings for him. Until then he would wait patiently, focus on his next steps in life and let you enjoy your last teenage years unbridled by his strong affection for you.

He just hoped, selfishly, very selfishly, that you didn’t get a boyfriend in that time.

“I’m sorry your dad didn’t show up.”

The sudden words of comfort were accompanied by a friendly shoulder bump from you and Atem nearly jumped, having been so lost in his own mind. Still, he caught the words, and they made the speed of his heart pick up again.

When he didn’t answer at first, you furrowed your brow, “Sorry, I just noticed you seemed a bit distracted, I thought that was why.”

“Oh- y-yes,” he started suddenly and awkwardly. God he prayed that if he ever was able to do something about his feelings, he wasn’t so cringe-worthy. Hopefully if that day ever came, he would be able to sweep you off your feet and properly charm you. At least for now he was able to clear his throat and regain his composure. “Thank you. It’s disappointing, I guess, but,” he looked around him, at his friends, his family, and smiled, “at least everyone else important to me is here.”

His gaze had returned to you at the last second, lingered on you, hoping to silently convey that you meant so much to him. Perhaps not exactly, how much you meant to him, but hopefully enough to know that regardless of his romantic feelings, he was still thankful for your friendship.

You must have received at least some of what he was trying to convey, because the soft, precious, touched expression that crossed your face and reached your eyes was profound.

You reached out and gave his hand a brief, but too welcomed squeeze, “We’ll always be here for you, Atem.”

There he went again, drawn in and practically mesmerized by you. All he could do was stare back, lost in your eyes and likely looking like a dumbfounded fool. Thankfully he was snapped out of his reverie by a flash, though realizing said flash was just made him want to blush.

Both of you turned to see Yugi with their grandfather’s camera, and he was peering over the top of it with a very pleased smile on his face. “Just taking pictures for the family albums!”

Anzu, who was standing behind Yugi, giggled at the comment and when Atem looked away upon feeling a certain heat creeping onto his cheeks, Yugi snapped yet another picture.

“Yugi,” you tried to scold, though it was marred by your own chuckle.

“Okay okay, I’m done,” the boy replied and indeed turned away to spare his beloved big brother further embarrassment.

Of course, said embarrassment became rather worthwhile, since he got to hear you laugh, and when you turned back to Atem with that humored smile on your face, he knew he didn’t care at all about the pictures.

In that moment, with your eyes on him, surrounded by his loved ones, he dared say that he was one of the luckiest men in Domino.

Atem, sitting alone in his pathetic, isolating cell, felt something sour crawling up his throat at the memory. Yugi was always there, always encouraging and supporting him, making him stronger and kinder. And, in a way, his little brother had given him the love of his life, too. Yugi had been the reason he met you, why he befriended you, and even the reason why he hadn’t pushed his stronger affection for you aside completely. His brother had given him so much and yet…

“I’m sorry, Yugi,” he whispered to the smiling picture.

Drawing in a calming breath, Atem let himself wallow in the sorrow for a moment, just a moment, before pushing it back to the recesses of his mind.

Atem then tucked the pictures into his jumpsuit, securing them within the orange fabric so there was no risk of losing them in the chaos he was about to unleash. Not a moment too soon either, because he heard the guards approaching his cell a second later. Atem stood, lighter and picks ready to use at a second’s notice, pictures tucked away safely on his person as the door to his cell opened. He was ready.

He may not have been able to save his brother, but he would be damned if these bars prevented him from saving you and his son.