#Jackson Family Wines

[feralpercy]

Sipping on his blue coke, he gives a side eye to Mr. D.

The god had simply plopped down next to him, no prior warning and told him to, quote to quote "enjoy the show".

Whatever that meant.

And then Apollo falls into the picture, racing after a cackling Hermes, chasing while simultaneously running from Artemis, who in return is followed by an annoyed Athena, who also gets followed by Ares who's ready with a spear in hand.

On his other side, Aphrodite emerges, wine in hand and getting comfortable.

Enjoy the show indeed.

[bourbontrend]

Dive into the rich history and exquisite flavors of Kentucky Straight Bourbon! 🥃 Discover how tradition and craftsmanship blend to create exceptional spirits. Perfect for enthusiasts and newcomers alike! #BourbonTrend #KentuckyStraightBourbon

[haybug1]

5 Wines to Valentine's Day

The most romantic day of the year is upon us, at least so they say, and nothing will please your sweetheart more this Valentine’s Day than a special bottle of wine that celebrates love and family. Here are six bottles that are sure to please. #Cheers The Veuve Clicquot Champagne House was founded by Phillippe Clicquot-Muiron in 1772. However, the love story that would create one of the most…

[lilislegacy]

it’s the fact that when percy and annabeth graduate from their high schools, annabeth’s estranged family is gonna fly out to NYC

which means there will almost certainly be an awkward dinner with both families.

“hey we’re the chases, the family who neglected, gaslit, and emotionally abandoned annabeth. but we feel really bad and we’re trying to do better.”

“hey we’re the blofis-jacksons, aka the loving family of your daughter’s boyfriend who took her in and loved her as our own after you neglected, glaslit, and emotionally abandoned her.”

except none of them actually say it. they’re all just thinking it.

sally has major mom beef with them, paul is trying to be nice but is skeptical, frederick feels guilty and awkward, mrs. chase is flat out uncomfortable, the twins are causing absolute chaos, annabeth is a wreck, percy’s making jokes every 17 seconds to attempt to diffuse the tension, and baby estelle is just vibin

i feel like a lot of wine would be consumed

[matchaverse]

HC: now hear me out… each driver being a different greek god/goddess.. like for example:

oscar = Apollo: Olympian god of music, poetry, art, oracles, archery, plague, medicine, sun, light and knowledge.

lando = Hypnos: the god of sleep. (this is one is kinda funny since lando can fall asleep anywhere).

charles = Eros: God of love and desire.

max = Nike: Goddess of victory.

logan = Poseidon: God of the sea, earthquakes and horses

lewis = Hebe: Goddess of eternal youth.

sergio = Enyo: Minor goddess of war and destruction

carlos = Aphrodite: Goddess of love and beauty (and war).

george = Hestia: goddess of the hearth, home, architecture, domesticity, family, and the state.

fernando = Hermes: God of trade, thieves, travelers, sports, athletes, and border crossings, guide to the Underworld and messenger of the gods

yuki = Hephaestus: God of fire, blacksmith and craftsmen.

lance = Tyche: Goddess of prosperity and fortune.

nico = Peitho: Greek goddess of persuasion and seduction.

kevin = Deimos: God of fear, panic and terror.

daniel = Caerus: Minor god of opportunity, luck and favorable moments.

esteban = Momus: God of satire, mockery, censure, writers and poets and a spirit of evil-spirited blame and unfair criticism.

alexander = Dionysus: An Olympian god of the grape harvest, winemaking and wine, of ritual madness, religious ecstasy and theatre.

zhou = Themis: the Titan goddess of divine law and order.

pierre = Pheme: Goddess of fame, gossip and renown.

valtteri = Cybele: The Greek goddess of caverns, mountains, nature and wild animals.

now this is just MY opinion on the topic, if anyone has suggestions please feel free to share. i would love to hear your thoughts.

(i might or might not be thinking of doing an f1 x percy jackson type story)

[paranormaltheatrekid]

Use this as an excuse to dump a bunch of Hatchetfield headcanons, go wild.

Wow ok here we go:

-Ted Spankoffski is a pineapple pizza enjoyer.

-While we’re on the topic of Ted, Tinky definitely keeps clumps of his hair in a bag somewhere.

-Like Richie, Steph used to have dyed hair at some point.

-Becky Barnes is very much an animal person. She definitely got multiple pets once Stanley was gone.

-I didn’t create this headcanon, but I just adore it: Duke named his cat after Miss Holloway.

-Paul likes ice Carmel frappes. He just orders black coffee because it’s easy for Emma.

-Alice Woodward listens to Chappell Roan religiously.

-Webby’s favorite brother was Wiggly. They used to be really close.

-Miss Holloway definitely had the gift even before she made the deal. She saw Webby and stuff.

-Ruth is a Hamilton fanatic.

-Despite the fact that he didn’t make it, Pokey loves the phantom of the opera. He tries to make Paul be Cristine. He hates it, obviously.

-Xander Lee is John’s husband.

-Max and Stephanie were childhood friends.

-Lex and Ethan are bi4bi

-The nerds cosplay together. Ted takes them to conventions and teases them about it, but he secretly loves going.

-Miss Holloway runs karaoke nights at the diner. Her and Duke do duets together.

-Richie’s favorite food is the Miku ramen.

-Hannah Foster likes the Percy Jackson books.

-Also, Hannah didn’t speak until she was like 10 or 11.

-Charles Coven had involvement with Peip. He knew John and Wilbur.

-Nibbly is either the best cook ever or burns everything he touches. No in between.

-Shelia Young and Linda Monroe are both heavy red wine drinkers. Also, Shelia knows the Murrays through the church so she definitely knows Linda.

-I’m not really sure about this one, but I think it would be cool if Miss Holloway was related to the Waylon family.

-Max is secretly a musical theatre enjoyer.

-Kyle isn’t in the best of you scene because Grace killed him before Jason.

-Grace learned how to bury bodies from watching the Jerries. Or perhaps she learned from her mother.

-Benji, the kid who was said to have been able to talk to dogs in yellow jacket, was Scrags from the solve it squad.

-Blinky is an avid smut reader.

-Hannah made Ethan a bracelet. It’s his prized possession.

-Grace used to have a crush on Alice.

-Wilbur Cross has green eyes, like bright green. Idk that he doesn’t. I think he should.

-Charlotte makes her own sweaters. She gave the CCRP gang ones for their birthdays. Bill and Melissa love theirs. Paul hates his. Ted pretends to dislike his, but he’s glad that she made him one.

-Melissa and Woman are gay and in love.

-The reason that Webby taught Hannah how to play the ukulele was because her brother Pokey taught her how to play instruments.

-Linda’s mom was definitely a honey queen.

-Pete is really interested in space. I think it suits him, but also know he can be the space bastard to Ted’s time bastard.

-Forever and Always!Paulkins adopt a dog and multiple kids.

-Nibbly’s human forms are inspired by past honey queens.

-Zoey and Zach used to be very close as kids.

-Steph is very good at makeup. She practices her skills on Pete.

-Some movies Miss Holloway likes are labyrinth and the princess bride. She will not watch a movie made past the 90s. Brenda calls her old.

-Paul doesn’t hate Moana. He is the only one who knows all the lyrics.

[sjmvillainweek]

SJM Villain Week Prompts List (October 1st - 7th)

Day 1- Villain Origin Story/Sacrifice

Villain Origin Story:

There's always been a question of if evil is made or born. Were our Villains evil from their first breath, or did a forbidden Romance gone wrong create the bad guy? Or was it an abusive family, perhaps a curse?

Sacrifice:

What did our villains give up or lose to reach this point? Was it ripped from them or was it something they willingly gave? What did they gain from what they've lost?

Day 2- Planning/Weakness

Planning:

What went into making this happen? How did Maeve truly rise to power? Was it all warfare, or what shady deals were made and with who? Our villains can't be the origin of evil, so what happened beforehand to encourage this

Weakness:

Achilles had his heel, Percy Jackson has his loyalty, Aelin has self sacrifice. What is the villain's tragic Weakness? What would have brought them to their knees had the bad guys been able to find it out? How do they hide it? What have they done about it?

Day 3- Secret Skills/Deception

Secret Skills:

Is there a weapon they are skilled with? What does training look like for them? Do they have powerful magic? What does their spellbook collection look like? Do they have a hobby that has turned into an advantage for them? What is hiding in their arsenal?

Their Deception:

We got here somehow. Write that origin, that first lie that allowed our villains the position of power they've gained. Is there a lie they regret, or one they're proud of the most? Can anyone see through their lies?

Day 4- Their Reign/Behind Closed Doors

Their Reign:

We never truly see things from the villain's perspective. What did things look like Under the Mountain? What happened in Maeve’s throne room? What is the Eternal City like when just the Asteri are there? Was it all truly bad or was there fun? Did their Reign actually do anything potentially good?

Behind Closed Doors:

What's the villain like when they're truly alone? Are they lonely? Do they feel shame? Are they self righteous? Do they cuddle up with a glass of wine and their beloved secret pet? Do they have an odd habit that brings them joy?

Day 5- The Villain Wins AU/Aftermath

Villain wins AU:

Either in an AU world or the one we know and love, tragic news has broken: The hero has fallen (either by death or in love with our Villain) and hope has left the Maasverse. What happens now that no one stands in the way of evil? Will our hero and villain enjoy an unexpected mafia style romance, will they become the rulers or their world?

Aftermath:

What impact has the villain left? What will be their legacy, their infamy? What is the ancient story told about them to keep faelings from disobeying their parents? How has the world changed due to them?

Day 6- Afterlife/The Villains Sense Of Style

After life:

After the villain is gone, they've entered the world beyond their own. What does their fate look like? Is it filled with regret, punishment, finding peace? Was it worth all of this?

The villains sense of style: 

Most of SJM’s female villains are described as beautiful creatures. Maeve with her dark song and beauty, Amarantha is known as the “Never-Fading Flower.” We have even heard her refer to Beron as handsome in ACOTAR. What does our Villain do for their care routine? What's their fashion sense like? How high of a priority is their appearance?

Day 7- Free day

Self-explanatory, this is a day to go utterly wild. Write whatever your heart desires about our favorite villains. Their world is entirely in your hands.

Here is our list of Villains from across the SJM universe for reference.

And remember these prompts are just meant for inspiration, use them as loosely or as strictly as you want. With the Villains in the spotlight, who knows where they'll take you.

We'll see you in October.

[lily-blue]

Stupid but mine

☆ characters: hermes’ son!haechan & apollo’s daughter!you ☆ genre: percy jackson au, humour ☆ warnings: physical fight, mention of blood and injury ☆ request: FWS24. form this prompt list ☆ summary: Haechan is always ready to defend your honour, even if it means he needs to fight one of Ares’ annoying sons ☆ words: 1,6k ☆ dedicated to: @dat-town​​ ♥

You had known Haechan since you had been ten; he had been the first person who had pissed you off when your mother had sent you to Camp Half-Blood to spare the rest of your family from possible monster attacks. You might not have been as smart as Athene’s children nor could you have read emotions as easily as the kids in the Aphrodite cabin, but from your first day at the demigod training facility on Long Island, it had been painfully obvious to you that it had never been about your safety. And that had turned you into an angry and rude teenager, who hadn’t known when to shut up or retreat. You would never regret punching the boy in the face for his comment on your emo eyeliner.

You had never regretted becoming his best friend, either, though the latter had taken a lot of time, convincing and a life or death situation that had turned the entire camp into a bloody battlefield two weeks before your sixteenth birthday. Gosh, the smug look on his face when you had ugly cried next to his not-so-unconscious body in the infirmary had burnt into your brain. You were pretty sure that, up to this day, he hadn’t forgotten about it, either.

Offering one of the strawberry cupcakes on your tray to the gods, you almost fell head first into the altar when a large body crashed against yours; you hated how you didn’t even have to turn towards the culprit to know who found joy in messing with you. When you had applied for the vacant camp instructor positions at the end of your last summer at Camp Half-Blood - which had already been three years ago - you hadn’t thought much about whom you would have needed to work together with in the future, and you cursed yourself for overlooking the possibility of numerous summers in Yuta’s company at least three times a week. The demigod was a pain in the ass, a man on a mission to raise your blood pressure for no goddamn reason. For Zeus’ sake. He was so annoying. Wasn’t it time for him to grow up?

‘Hey, asshole!’ Your best friend’s angry voice came from somewhere behind you, and you closed your eyes for a second to ground yourself. You knew… you just knew that all hell was about to break loose. Because as much as you appreciated him for always having your back, Lee Haechan hadn’t grown up yet, either, despite working as an instructor in a camp full of young kids and teenagers.

‘And here comes the self-proclaimed hero,’ Yuta mused, mockery thick in his voice, which only fueled Haechan’s frustration. Sliding your gaze from one to the other, you wondered whether you should have turned a blind eye on the upcoming disaster for once or stick around in case someone got hurt. You wished you could have walked away without feeling guilty. It would have made your life that much easier. ‘What do you want, Lee?’

‘Hm, dunno. An apology for a starter doesn’t sound so bad,’ Haechan retorted immediately after he inserted himself between the two of you. You could see people starting to pay more attention to your group. Though, there were many campers who took one pitiful look at the guys and decided they weren’t interested.

Their disinterest spoke volumes. These two had already caused more commotions this year than the previous one and September was still five weeks away. You let out a resigned sigh.

‘You know the two of you aren’t actually together?’ Yuta scoffed, the smirk in the corner of his mouth mocking as he was clearly trying to push Haechan’s buttons. ‘The Aphrodite girls were messing with your wine.’

The memories from last Sunday washed over you in way too vivid waves; the kiss you had shared with Haechan was something you had tried to ignore ever since you had woken up the next morning. You pressed your lips into a firm line to swallow back a careless comeback. You were afraid it might have caused more harm than good if you had admitted that you had enjoyed the soft touch of your best friend’s lips against your own.

‘I said apologise to her for pushing her into the altar on purpose,’ Haechan stood his ground, his appearance surprisingly level-headed, although for someone like you, who had known him over a decade, it was obvious that he was fuming inside. Unfortunately, Yuta had spent as many summers in Camp Half-Blood as the two of you if not more (you had never bothered to ask), so he saw right through Hermes’ son.

‘You’re not my boss. If anything, you should be the one following my orders,’ Yuta retorted, chuckling with a wide smile to rile the other demigod up.

You took it as a sign to stand between the two, blocking the older’s line of sight as much as you could with your petite body. Why did Haechan have to grow so tall? When you had been eleven, you had been almost a head taller than him.

‘Like hell I would,’ your best friend spat, putting his hand on your shoulder before he slowly, gently pushed you behind his back. ‘Don’t make me kick your ass in front of all these kids. Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t apologise,’ Haechan claimed as he walked up to Yuta and poked his chest once, twice, three times.

‘My ass? Really? I will make you eat your words before you have the chance to pull your sword out of its sheath, baby boy,’ Yuta taunted and for the nth time since you had become a camp instructor, you wondered why you hadn’t quitted the moment you had realised Yuta and Haechan had also gotten the same position. Could you have been a masochist at heart?

Or an idiot, maybe. You should have dressed in a clown costume for Justin’s infamous party this Halloween.

‘It’s so on,’ Haechan exclaimed and the two were out the Dining Pavilion before you could have taken your first bite from your strawberry cupcake or said as much as:

‘That’s a very stupid idea.’

Not because you didn’t believe in your best friend - Haechan was surprisingly good with swords -, but because how else would you have described a deliberate one-on-one duel with one of Ares’ most ruthless sons. Haechan must have lost his mind to not see how idiotic of an idea it was. You swore he was the reason you were losing so much hair these days because of the constant stress he was putting you through.

Abandoning your lunch, you did grab two pieces of cupcakes before you ran after the idiots, which meant you made it in time to hear Haechan brag about his speed and those muscles he had indeed put on in the past years. Hell, he was so confident, for a second you believed he would defy all odds and teach Yuta a lesson.

Instead, he found himself on the ground in less than forty seconds; your heart skipped a beat and you forgot to breathe when the sword fell out of his hand. He looked so miserable. 

‘Yuta, that’s enough,’ you stood between the point of his sword and Haechan’s ass, flinching at the stinging feeling of the blade scratching your cheek. The cut was small enough to not faze your audience, but deep enough to draw blood, which was seriously annoying as you knew it would leave a scar. Your skin was too sensitive not to; you still had acne scars on your chin from months ago that hadn’t gone away.

Your staring contest with Yuta ended with the boy’s arm falling back by his side and a quiet apology that sounded more like a mockery than an actual display of worry and regret. It was fine with you, though. You hadn’t needed his apology to begin with.

You didn’t wait for the crowd to disperse; in spite of how common these disputes were in the camp, there were always a couple of spectators who lingered. You would have been careless to waste even just a couple of seconds on them when Haechan’s heavy breathing got more and more uneven. You had to act fast.

So you turned around and crouched down next to his body. The soothing balm you had made of herbs that grew in the forest surrounding the camp was in your hand in a blink of an eye. Being the daughter of the Greek god of healing (and poetry, music, knowledge and a dozen of random things people would have bragged about on their CVs these days) sure had its perks. After all, your talent with medicine might have been inherited. 

‘Next th… next time he will think th… twice before he’s rh… rude to you,’ your stupid best friend forced through his teeth, his smile pained but genuine, which made you feel conflicted and bothered. Hadn’t he realised yet that he had more than probably fractured his ribs? You didn’t have to take off his uniform to know the bruises on his chest were nasty. Yuta had made sure to make confetti out of his ugly, orange tee.

‘Sure he will,’ you mocked, sarcasm dripping from your retort, so that Haechan could feel your disapproval even if he missed your eye roll.

And no, you did NOT blush like a schoolgirl just because he had said that. Just because defending your honour was clearly more important to him than his own well-being. It wasn’t romantic. No, it was idiotic. He was an idiot.

But god, he was your idiot. And you loved him more than you let him in on.

the end.

[elderberries-and-honey]

Despite having fallen on hard times, Winifred took it upon herself to host a party on Christmas Eve with all their loved ones. Back in the workhouse, they were lucky to afford anything better than porridge for dinner. But now that she had a family of her own she was determined to make it special.

Millie, Beth and Louise could not allow her to do all the cooking alone so they each put on their aprons and happily got to work beside her. They spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen preparing for the dinner, sounds of laughter heard above whisks mixing doughs and icing frantically inside porcelain bowls.

Valerie began helping herself to the wine intended for cooking early on in the day, already causing her to become a little tipsy before they'd even put the ham in the oven. Beth of course was the first one to scold her, but with Ozzy nearby, she wouldn't raise her voice. Instead, she put her hands on her hips with disproving eyes and a scowl of disappointment. It was moments like these where Winifred couldn't help thinking that Beth truly was meant to be someone's mother.

Ozzy remained close while the women worked. He wasn't a shy child by any means and soaked up all the attention he got from everyone telling him how adorable his Christmas outfit was.

At last, nearing the hour of 7 o'clock, with everyone gathered round the table wearing their finest silks, all of their hard work would be enjoyed by all.

They set up the dining table with everything they had prepared - cranberry sauce, a charcuterie board with aged cheese and sausage, potatoes grown right on the Baudelaire's farm, delicious cookies and pies for dessert, warm spiced rum and hot cocoa to drink, and best of all, a perfectly cooked ham that was from a frequent patron of the pub that had been gifted to the McAdam's.

Everyone treasured the food, knowing full well that their meal wouldn't be anywhere near as extravagant without Millie's expertise, which they all took turns admiring. Between the spiced rum, and the thrill of Christmas only hours away, they chatted excitedly between bites throughout the entirety of dinner.

Everyone went back for seconds, some even going for thirds until all of them, even the picky eaters, left the table with their bellies full.

No one could afford to give that many presents this year but not a soul amongst them seemed to mind. They each were completely content to simply enjoy each others company. Even the children, who were eager all the same to receive their new mittens and perfectly ripe oranges. Besides, they both were still too small to actually understand that they hadn't gotten much compared to others.

Lawrence had received new cotton fabric to sew himself up new work shirts and Winifred a plethora of new ink wells and paper from the McAdams. All of them received something hand-knitted from Beth, and from Millie, beautiful cross-stich embroideries to hang in their homes.

It was a terrific haul, and certainly more than anyone could ask for all things considered. However, the most surprising of all was Lawrence's gift to Winifred - two tickets to the theater come Spring - which had, of course, been suggested by Marmee.

After all the gifts had been opened, the night carried on late into the evening. Lawrence even brought out the old music box he had been gifted for Christmas nearly two decades prior and Jackson and Louise began dancing around the living room elegantly. However, drunk on rum and holiday cheer, Lawrence insisted that he and Valerie could do better.

He and Valerie were clumsy, tromping all over the others feet and losing their place in the steps to the dance. All in good fun, Millie and Winifred began cackling as they watched them, unable to contain how humorous it was to watch, while Beth dramatically hung her head in shame.

The children began to grow rather fussy, both Ozzy and Nellie awake far past their bedtimes, and the festivities had to come to an end eventually.

Winifred and Lawrence stood in the doorway, thanking their guests for coming and helping in the kitchen, as well as all their delightful new gifts. Winifred and Lawrence watched them go until they could no longer see their silhouettes in the dark, both ignoring the cold until they could no longer stand it.

The night had been exactly what they needed to forget their worries even if it couldn't last forever. While drifting off to sleep that night, everyone would reflect on what a wonderful Christmas it was, contented to have spent it together.

next / previous / first

[morning-star-joy]

maybe I don't quite know what to say, but I'm here in your doorway

a stranger's heart without a home Chapter 8

Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: You attend dinner with the Millers, where Tommy and Maria surprise you and Joel with an unexpected question. Later, you seek comfort from bad memories from the unlikely source of your casual sex partner.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Descriptions of Grief/Anxiety/PTSD/Depression and Mentions of Death of Family Member (Reader's mother), Mentions of Previous Smut and References to Sexual Situations, Language, Alcohol Use

Wordcount: 13k

chapter 1 || chapter 7 || chapter 8 || masterlist

ao3 link

Flowers were grasped tightly in your hands as you shifted awkwardly on Tommy and Maria’s doorstep. You had been dreading this day since Joel had mentioned the invitation, hoping that somehow you could find some way to get out of it. 

But when you had spent most of the week avoiding Tommy’s favorite spots to eat in favor of working through your food storage in your own home, he showed up on your doorstep, leaving no route of escape from whatever plan he was crafting by inviting you to a dinner that Joel was the only other attendee for.

You shifted again, looking down at the small bouquet of lilies and daisies you were clutching. For a moment you pondered if you should knock again, or if you could manage a quick getaway—maybe fake some illness or injury to get out of what would no doubt be a painfully awkward dinner—when the door opened and cut off any plans of fleeing you had been formulating.

“Ah, there you are!” Tommy smiled wide the moment he saw you, the familiar sight of him offering some comfort to the rapid fire thoughts shooting through your mind about the night to come. “I was wondering when you were gonna show up. Almost thought you weren’t going to.”

Tommy’s grin almost overshadowed your nervous, wavering smile as he stepped to the side and waved you inside the house. You had walked the hallways enough times that they were as familiar as your own, if not more so, but you still hesitated before you crossed the threshold.

The door shut behind you, the sound of it clicking shut solidifying in your mind how you were trapped in the formal niceties you were going to have to partake in for the next few hours. You took a moment to ready yourself, sucking in a deep breath through your nose as you square your shoulders back, jumping when Tommy delivered a firm pat between them.

He kept his hand there, directing you towards the dining room in a friendly manner. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew of your desire to flee, and was making sure you couldn’t duck away by moving you along. 

Turning the corner, you cut through the kitchen that smelled of a delicious home cooked meal right out of the oven, and into the dining room where the other two attendees of tonight’s dinner stood on opposite sides of the room from each other.

You fought to keep your gaze on Maria, exchanging a smile and respectful pleasantries that were commonplace between you before your focus inevitably shifted to the dour man leaning against the other wall. The man who probably also wished he was as far away from this dinner as he could be.

Joel’s eyes met yours in the same moment you looked over at him, his fingers grasping a wine glass filled with dark red alcohol that you hadn’t seen in years. He offered a short nod in silent greeting, one that you returned stiffly. You could only hope that you both could keep up appearances believable enough that Tommy and Maria wouldn’t pick up on anything going on between you. 

You were sure it was way less than likely for Tommy to catch on. The man was too happy to have both you and Joel sharing a meal in the same room as him to notice anything amiss. 

But Maria was another matter entirely.

Jackson’s unofficial leader was frighteningly sharp. In fact, she was the true reason you had been dreading this dinner. You knew that one wrong move could tip her off to your…relationship with Joel, and you weren’t eager to break your second rule with your sex partner any more than you already had.

Luckily, Dina hadn’t pushed you on any suspicions she might have about you and Joel, even after he left your house that one night without the tool box you had claimed he showed up for. You even dared to hope that Dina didn’t read anything into Joel showing up on your doorstep, trying to convince yourself that she had been too distracted by the game night to think about it too deeply.

In the back of your mind, you knew it was a futile hope, but you didn’t give yourself time to dwell on other possibilities. You would deal with Dina’s questions, and come up with any explanations to satisfy her curiosity when that time came.

Maria moving forward pulled your focus from your wandering thoughts back to the present. She smiled kindly at you as she stopped in front of you, reaching out to receive the flowers you had brought for her.

“These are beautiful,” she said warmly, and your returning smile was a bit tight as you tried to figure out what to do with your hands now that they were empty. “Where did you get them?”

“Oh, Dina helped me pick them,” you shrugged casually, forcing your hands down to your sides and trying not to fidget with them as you turned to follow her back into the kitchen. You wanted to escape the familiar weight of the gaze that had fallen onto you from across the room.

Once inside the safety of the kitchen, Maria found a simple vase, filling it with water before carefully placing your simple, hand-picked bouquet inside of it. She shot a glance over your shoulder towards the adjoining dining room, where you could hear the low murmurs of the Miller brothers in conversation with each other, before she gestured for you to come closer to her as she walked further into the kitchen.

You hesitated for a brief second before following her, watching her set the vase down on the kitchen island, next to the casserole dish that emitted a delicious savory scent in waves throughout the room.

“I know you weren’t—” Maria’s head tilted as she paused, as if searching for the right word before continuing carefully, “eager to come tonight.”

“Yeah, well,” you hedged as you shrugged again. You leaned against the island as your arms crossed over your chest, nearly creasing the shirt that you had worn for this occasion, one that was nicer than what you usually wore. “Joel and I aren’t exactly chummy.”

“I’m aware.”

You could feel Maria’s eyes on you, assessing you carefully, but you avoided her gaze in favor of staring out the window above the kitchen sink. It was still light out despite being later in the evening, a telltale sign that summer was here to stay for the time being. You distracted yourself with searching for any hints of approaching dusk in the bright sky as Maria sighed.

“I just wanted to thank you,” she said quietly, and you finally looked over at the honest sentiment. Your brow arched in question, a silent request for further elaboration, and she explained, “It means a lot to Tommy; the two of you showing up tonight, despite your differences.”

A genuine smile flickered on your lips at the mention of Tommy’s happiness, and you met Maria’s eyes so she could see the honesty behind your words as you replied softly, “Anything for Tommy.”

Maria returned your smile with one of her own, a soft upturning of her lips that you only ever saw reserved for her husband and their child. She nodded at you, lifting her hand to gesture back towards the dining room where the two men awaited.

Might as well get on with it, you thought as you held back a sigh. You turned, leading the way back as she picked up the casserole dish and followed you. Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching for something to distract yourself from your heightening nerves as you reentered the room, standing to the side as Maria moved to set the food in the center of the dining table that had finally been cleared of its typical clutter and set for the dinner.

Tommy was laughing at something when you walked in. You assumed it was laughter at a joke he had made himself, and Joel shook his head while he sipped from the glass of wine in his hand to hide a small smile. When they caught sight of you and Maria, Tommy turned away from the conversation with his brother to stride to the two seats on one side of the table.

“Come on, let’s eat,” he said with a charming grin, pulling out one of the seats for Maria to sit in before moving to sit in the one next to her.

It was impossible to hide your brief moment of hesitation as you realized just who you would have as your seating partner for this dinner. 

In retrospect, you should have known it would end up this way, but denial was a strong barrier to common sense. You hadn’t wanted to spare much thought to this dinner as it approached, but now you began to wish that you would have prepared for it more.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you pulled it back, seating yourself as Joel pushed himself off of the opposite wall and rounded the table. He sat silently next to you, placing his wine glass on the table as neither of you made any effort at idle small talk.

Tommy smiled brightly, his gaze flashing between the two of you seated across from him before he reached out for the bottle of wine next to the casserole. He took the empty wine glass in front of you, pouring more than an adequate amount for you, and you couldn’t hold back a soft laugh as he sent you a knowing wink before setting the bottle to the side. You knew then he could tell you were nervous—because of course he did, it was Tommy, he knew you better than anyone—and was supplying you with more than enough wine to settle your nerves.

Picking up the wine glass that was more full than necessary, you averted the gaze of the others as you turned your head to the side, taking a long sip of the much-needed liquid courage. Hopefully it would numb you enough to calm you down. 

You placed the drink back down in front of you, continuing to play with the stem of your glass while Maria began to dish the food onto all of your plates.

“Where’d you manage to get this?” you asked as you turned your drink in your fingers, watching the dark liquid swirl around the clear glass. “In a trade? I didn’t think anybody in Jackson had anything like this left.” 

Wine was a rarity nowadays, and you were impressed by how Tommy and Maria had managed to pull a bottle out for the night. It almost made you more nervous, the symbolism of the rare luxury giving you a sense that this dinner might be more of a special occasion than you had expected.

“Joel found it, actually,” Maria said as she placed a healthy serving on the mentioned man’s plate, and your gaze turned to him even as he stared down at the food instead of looking at you.

“Patrol,” he finally offered the single word as a short answer that barely answered anything at all, and for a moment you thought that was all he was going to say as he continued to look down. You looked away, and he surprised you as he added, “There’s an old liquor store in Teton Village.”

Joel looked up at Tommy, and the younger man nodded with a small smile before thanking his wife for the food she placed on his plate.

“It wasn’t easy,” Tommy elaborated further at your confused look. You had no idea there was a liquor store in the village, but you guessed you had never ventured that far in before. “We just managed to clear out the shops surrounding it this past month.”

You nodded, looking down at the steaming food on your plate. The scent of seasoned potatoes covered in cheese was tempting, but you didn’t pick up your fork just yet as you became lost in thought.

It was impossible to ignore how odd it was, not knowing such a simple fact about what Joel had been doing lately. You had no issues with the rules of your arrangement, but it was a strange phenomenon to still know next to nothing about the man or his daily life when you kept going back to each other, spending mere minutes together for the heady chase of pleasure.

You cleared your throat, shaking that line of thought out of your mind as you glanced up. Tommy picked up his fork, smiling widely at you and Joel across from him as he gestured towards your plates.

“Please, eat,” he urged, before scooping up a large amount of food to take a bite.

Tommy was followed by Maria, and then more slowly by you and Joel. The four of you fell into a silence as you ate that wasn’t completely awkward, but was still far from comfortable. Maria mainly kept her curiosity to herself, but Tommy was less subtle about his glances towards you and Joel. You knew he couldn’t let the silence linger for long, and after no more than a minute or two of eating in a tentative quiet, he finally broke it with an attempt at conversation. 

“So,” Tommy started after taking a sip from his wine, setting it down and glancing towards you with a warm, friendly gaze. “How have your patrols been going lately?”

You shrugged a shoulder as you scooped up another bite of your meal with your fork.

“They’re going well,” you said honestly, speaking more towards Tommy and Maria, still avoiding looking at Joel. “Jesse is really holding his own. He was right about being ready to patrol, he might even catch up to my count soon.”

“Must feel good to finally win at a contest, at least for now.” Tommy smirked, and you shot him a playful glare as you chewed your food and stabbed at another bite.

“Shut up,” you mumbled after you swallowed, and he chuckled to himself as Maria shook her head at the two of you from beside him, though her gaze wasn’t judgmental in the slightest.

Maria had always known how important you and Tommy were to each other, and she had no issue with your fixture in his life. The two of you had shown up to Jackson together, after all. It’s not like she could have torn you away from each other once you settled into her town, even if she had wanted to. 

One thing has puzzled you on more than one occasion though, since Joel’s return: Maria’s issue with his influence in Tommy’s life, and not your own. You guessed she may just see you as less of a threat than Joel; maybe because you were younger, or because she didn’t know how similar your life in the Fireflies was to the Miller brothers’ lives as hunters years ago. The only real difference was the perspective of horrible acts being worthy in the name of an ideal, instead of throwing away the sake of morals for murder committed in order to survive.

You stabbed the next piece of food a bit harder than necessary, drawing the attention of Joel from where he sat beside you. His gaze on you was palpable, and you felt a familiar heat spread through you at his attention that you tried to ignore as you shoved the food into your mouth.

Not here, you told yourself, listening to Tommy and Maria talk idly about some kind of progress with some of the greenhouse crops as you ate in silence. Hardly any food was left on your plate now, and you were not looking forward to losing the distraction that chewing offered from having to make chit chat with your dinner partner.

Luckily, you didn’t have to worry about making chit-chat with Joel as Tommy asked him a question.

“So big bro,” Tommy started, turning back to where Joel sat diagonally across from him, his brow arching as he lowered his fork from his mouth to scoop another piece of casserole off his plate, “what happened to Esther?”

You nearly choked on your food at the abrupt mention of the woman Joel had been on a date with, but you forced yourself to swallow down the bite of potatoes. Covering your mouth with your fist, you cleared your throat of any food that may have gotten stuck, your gaze remaining carefully fixed on your plate as you saw Joel’s fork freeze midway to his plate out of the corner of your eye.

“What do you mean?” Joel asked slowly, carefully, before stabbing another bite of food.

You resisted the urge to look over at him, instead busying yourself with picking up your wine glass for another much needed sip at this topic change.

It didn’t bother you. It shouldn’t bother you. You and Joel were just casually fucking; what he chose to pursue in terms of a real relationship didn’t concern you at all.

But if he was still seeing Esther…maybe it should concern you. At least on her behalf. You held back a wince at the thought that he might still be seeing this woman, someone who may genuinely like him, who he could be happy with—and here you were, fucking it up for them.

You take another, longer sip from your wine, setting the glass back down as Tommy’s reply to Joel’s question makes you pause in your line of thought.

“I ran into her the other day.” Tommy’s words seemed to be just as carefully spoken as Joel’s, and you glanced up at your friend for a moment before looking back down at your food when you saw Maria looking at you. Fuck. “She said she hasn’t heard from you since your date.”

Oh.

You stop tapping your fingers against your wine glass, stilling yourself from any subconscious, nervous movements you had been making at the new information.

Joel shifted beside you, and you risked a glance at him from the corner of your eye. His head was bent, gaze focused on the small bit of casserole he had left on his plate. You were about to look away, distract yourself from a conversation that had nothing to do with you, when Joel’s gaze darted to you and back away again in the blink of an eye.

“It’s not a big deal,” Joel muttered, shoving another bite of food into his mouth, probably to give himself an excuse not to say anything else.

You forced yourself to look away slowly, trying not to appear any more suspicious than you may already seem as you returned to eating your food, but not before you saw the deep frown on Tommy’s face, his brow wrinkled in confusion and concern as he watched his brother.

“I just thought you liked her, is all,” he said quietly, his voice probing but not unkind, and you focused on a space on the wall behind him as you took another bite of your food to keep your mouth shut, in case you might say anything you would regret.

Joel shook his head beside you, but this time you didn’t look back to see his reaction. You weren’t so sure you wanted to see whatever was showing on his face at that moment.

“That’s not the issue,” Joel murmured, and a feeling akin to guilt began to form a pit in your stomach, twisting uncomfortably as you swallowed your food with more difficulty.

Fuck, this was your fault, you realized as you reached for your wine again, cursing how little of the alcohol remained in your glass now. It’s not like you cared so deeply about Joel’s happiness—but Tommy did. And he was looking at Joel in sadness now, confused as to why his brother wasn’t pursuing a path of happiness, not knowing that the obstacle in that path was you.

“What—”

Tommy was interrupted by Maria nudging him gently, and you saw her subtly shake her head at her husband, a sign to let it go. And he did drop the topic, but not without a heavy sigh as he turned back to his food.

The silence in the room was even more awkward than before, now uncomfortably so as you all quickly went about finishing your meals without any further conversation.

Reaching for your wine glass for another much needed sip of alcohol, the stem nearly slipped from your fingers as you felt the brush of a knee against yours. You focused on wrapping your fingers securely around the glass, thankful that Tommy and Maria hadn’t noticed the sloshing of the liquid in the glass as you hid any reaction on your face behind taking a sip.

You told yourself it was an innocent mistake, the brief touch gone as soon as it came, but you weren’t able to resist sparing a glance towards Joel for too long. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you saw he was finishing off the rest of the food on his plate, his movements less aggressive than the way he usually ate. Maybe he had also noticed that this night might be more than it seemed, and was acting more polite because of it. 

Or maybe it was the nicer flannel he was wearing tonight, the fabric stretching tighter across the muscles you knew coiled in his arms than they did in the shirts he usually wore. You knew just how strong those arms were from the times he had lifted you up or held you down, grunting into your ear as he fucked into you—

You blinked rapidly, clearing your throat as you looked back down towards your plate quicker than you had meant to because Jesus fucking Christ, you weren’t going to think about fucking your best friend’s brother when said best friend was right across the table from you.

When Joel didn’t acknowledge your existence, and the touch of his knee against yours didn’t repeat itself, you knew that it really had been a genuine mishap. Your shoulders relaxed as you looked back at the couple across from you who hadn’t seemed to notice anything amiss, relieved that the touch from Joel had been an accident, even as a strange feeling that you couldn’t place was nagging you from the back of your mind. Probably that guilt again, you realized with a wince as you set your wine glass back down.

With the plates polished off and the glasses of wine the only thing that remained, Tommy leaned back in his seat, glancing towards where Maria sat at his side. You watched her give the man a smile and an encouraging nod, and your muscles tensed with unease even as Tommy relaxed, his hand coming to rest in hers as he turned back to you and Joel.

“I have to admit, we didn’t invite you here just for dinner,” Tommy said slowly, and you arched an eyebrow. Even though you had a feeling that was the case, your curiosity was piqued now that your friend had finally admitted to having an ulterior motive.

“I could’ve guessed that,” Joel muttered at your side, earning a sharp look from Maria before she turned back to Tommy, her gaze softening as her husband seemed to hesitate with a forced laugh.

“Yeah, well,” Tommy cleared his throat, his grip tightening in Maria’s as he continued, “you’re both here because you’re family. And as a family, we had something we wanted to ask you.”

The sentiment took you by surprise, but you knew Tommy like the back of your hand now, and you knew his words were honest. It made you forget about the awkwardness and guilt momentarily, a warmth blooming through your chest as you thought the word over.

Family. You never would have thought that your family would include Joel Miller, of all people, but at this point you figured that you just couldn’t get rid of him. And if a family with Tommy meant that Joel had to be there, hell, you’d take that for him. Anything for Tommy.

Your friend paused, looking at Maria again for one last burst of encouragement before turning back to you, saying something that made your mind completely blank for a moment.

“We’d like to ask you to be Hope’s godparents.”

Joel choked as your eyes widened in surprise.

Tommy leaned forward in concern, about to stand when Joel waved him off, still coughing from accidentally inhaling his wine as Maria looked back and forth from his startled face to your shocked one. You blinked a few times, unsure of what to say as Tommy sank back into his seat.

After a few more seconds of Joel coughing where you continued to sit in stunned silence, Joel cleared his throat, shaking his head as he looked back at Tommy and Maria.

“You what?” he croaked, looking and sounding as taken aback as you felt.

“Godparents?” you repeated at the same time Joel spoke, taking turns staring at each person currently seated around the table.

Tommy and Maria shared a glance, the former looking uncertain as the latter looked back towards you and nodded with confidence.

“Yes, godparents,” she confirmed, interlocking her hands and resting them on the table in front of her. Her face darkened, the mood turning more serious with her next words, “Just in case anything were to happen to Tommy and me. We don’t want to take any risks.”

The air turned more somber, the atmosphere heavier as it pressed around you, and you shook your head to try and make it disappear.

“Nothing’s going to happen in Jackson,” you muttered, trying to sound confident even as you weren’t so sure of the words yourself. 

Although nothing had happened in Jackson yet, your paranoia would never let you rest easy, even inside these carefully guarded walls.

“You can never know for sure,” Maria said to you, her gaze telling you she knew exactly what you were thinking. 

Your gaze darted back to your wine glass, watching your distorted reflection in the crystal as Joel shifted beside you.

“Like I said, you’re family.” Tommy’s voice was soft yet urgent with the sentiment, and only with the sincerity of those words did you look back up at him. “We’d feel better if we knew Hope would be safe. Just in case.”

He was looking at both you and Joel, speaking to you equally, and you couldn’t help but think how foolish you and Joel had been to hate each other for so long because of your relationships with Tommy. It was so stupid to hold such disdain for each other because of that jealousy of each other, that envy to be that strong fixture in Tommy’s life, when clearly he had enough room for both of you.

“Of course,” you said softly, in the same moment that Joel nodded solemnly. His gaze was hardened into a sheer determination that you had seen before, and you didn’t doubt the man’s commitment for one second. Somehow, you doubted Joel wouldn’t do anything it took to protect those he cared about.

Just like you, a voice in the back of your head spoke, but you ignored it.

Tommy smiled again, the gesture more genuine and less forced this time, his shoulders loosening from the tension that had made them nearly bunch up around his ears. He turned his smile towards Maria, who reached out to squeeze his hand again with a gentle smile of her own, the couple seeming to find solace in the promise you and Joel just made.

The moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of the very baby you were discussing crying from upstairs, and Tommy stood swiftly before Maria could even begin to rise from her seat.

“It’s okay, I got it,” he said softly as he bent down to place a soft, chaste kiss full of tender affection to the top of her head before bounding out of the room towards the staircase. 

You heard his steps echo up the stairs as Maria turned towards you and Joel, offering a kind smile as she stood.

“You can move into the living room,” she said as she began to stack the empty plates on the table. “I’ll get this taken care of.”

Standing quickly, you picked up your own plate as you walked towards her.

“I can help—”

“You’re our guests,” Maria interrupted, giving you a look that said she was accepting no nonsense as she took the plate from your hands. “Go make yourself comfortable. I’ve got this.”

She walked into the kitchen with the dishes, her departure halting any further protests from you as you shifted awkwardly on your feet. You resisted looking back at Joel as you picked your wine glass back up from the table, your steps slow as you walked into the living room, out of view and earshot of Maria washing the dishes on the other side of the house.

You turned in place, too restless with the weight of this new promise you had just made to sit down and twiddle your thumbs. Not only was this a large commitment—probably the biggest one you’ve made in your new life—but you were doing it with Joel.

God fucking dammit, you thought to yourself as you paced the length of the room. Why did everything in your life always seem to come back to Joel fucking Miller?

First, you had accepted your attraction to him, indulging in one fleeting moment of passion with him before he had left. Then, you had accepted him leaving, content to let the image of him fade into your memories.

But then he had returned, and you had been forced to accept his new awkward placement in your life in Jackson, learning how to deal with him in proximity to Tommy. Then there were patrols with him, and you had begrudgingly accepted that maybe, maybe he wasn’t as terrible as he seemed. You got used to Joel being around.

Then you just had to go and fuck him again, and even after that you had resisted each other. A futile effort, and eventually you had come to accept that you just couldn’t stay away, settling into your new routine of casual sex with Joel Miller.

But now he was family? You were both godparents of the same child?

How would you keep up this charade? How could you keep Tommy from knowing that you were fucking his brother when you had to show up at the same dinners and birthday parties? How could you look at your own reflection in the mirror, not hating yourself for robbing Joel at his chance of a happy, content life just because you wanted his dick?

Taking a long drink from your wine, you heaved a deep sigh, brushing a hand over your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. You looked around the room, trying to distract yourself, before slowly coming to a stop in front of the fireplace, your eyes lingering on the small shrine that had been there for almost as long as you could remember. The burnt down candles had been recently replaced with new ones, and a somber mood overtook your cascading spiral of emotions as you set your glass down on the coffee table before walking up to it.

Flames sparked to life as you struck one of the matches that you knew rested on the mantle next to the memorial. You carefully lit both of the candles under each name, sparing a moment of quiet respect for the short lives that were lost too soon after you shook the match’s flame out, the faint trail of smoke drifting away.

You were being selfish. This wasn’t about you. It wasn’t about your own selfish desires. Tommy was asking you to keep his daughter safe, because he trusted you. Because you were family. That was all that really mattered now.

Folding your hands in front of you, you gazed at the names as you made a solemn vow to yourself that you wouldn’t let Hope Miller’s life be cut short. Too much loss had occurred in the horrors of this world, and you would do anything in your power to not let it happen again. Not to Tommy. Not to his child.

After another moment of quiet, you turned around, blinking in surprise when you saw that Joel was standing in the room with you, his eyes fixed on you during your silent act of remembrance for the lives you never knew, but could understand the loss of.

His guard was up as much as always, not that you had expected otherwise. You somehow got the sense that he had built even more walls between you at this moment, his emotions indistinguishable in the severity of his gaze as he observed you closely.

Joel looked back at the shrine you had lit, and some unreadable look passed through his eyes in an instant so fast that you couldn’t even begin to try and decipher it before it was gone again.

You paused, watching as the blank look on his face shifted slightly, turning into a gaze more…somber. Glancing back at the names and years, you wondered not for the first time who they were. You had always figured that they were both related to Maria, as Tommy had never mentioned those names, or revealed anything about either of those lost lives to you. 

But now you wondered if you were wrong. You pondered whether Tommy had been related to them somehow, and if Joel had actually known one or both of the children who had never gotten a chance at a full life because of the Outbreak.

Joel didn’t say anything, and neither did you, even as he moved to stand by your side. You both looked at the shrine in silence, a pensiveness falling between you, and you wondered if he was contemplating his new role in the baby’s life as much as you were pondering yours.

“Do you…” Joel trailed off, clearing his throat as you looked over at him. You could only see his side profile from this angle, and not for the first time you found yourself realizing how handsome the older man was. “Do you know who they were?”

You looked back at the names and the lit candles that honored their lives. Shaking your head gently, you watched the flames flicker as the wax began to melt and drip down the sides before you answered.

“No,” you said quietly. In that moment, you wondered who those kids were; how they lived, why they died, what their hopes and dreams were before it was cruelly robbed of them. “It never felt right to ask.”

Joel shifted slightly beside you, but you kept looking forward. For some reason you felt like you couldn’t look directly at him at that moment.

“Why did you do that, then?” he asked, the question barely more than a murmur. Joel’s voice wasn’t judgmental, just…inquisitive, like he actually wanted to know the reasons behind your actions.

You shrugged, head tilting as you watched one of the flames flicker wildly for a moment. Another chunk of wax melted down one of the candles as you considered the reasons behind your own actions, and how to describe them to the stoic man at your side.

“Because they meant something to someone,” you finally found the words slowly leaving your mouth, your voice almost vulnerable with the memories pressing against the barrier in the back of your mind; trying to burst through, trying to make you remember, to hold you hostage until you broke under the weight of them again. “Somebody still feels their loss. That’s enough for me to remember them.”

A solemn silence fell between you, a sense of melancholy in the air as you watched the candles continue to burn. After a prolonged moment when neither of you said anything, you dared to spare a glance towards Joel, your heart lurching in surprise when you saw he was already looking at you.

His eyes were still guarded, but there were cracks in that impenetrable stone that hadn’t been there before. There was something almost akin to vulnerability peeking through his dark gaze, and your breath got caught in your throat as you froze in place.

He was regarding you in a way that he hadn’t before, similar to the look he had given you during your patrol to the ski lodge when he had offered you a hand to help you up. Neither of you found any words to explain whatever you were feeling at that moment, and eventually you both broke the gaze, hastily looking away from each other at the same time.

Joel cleared his throat, looking down at his boots with his arms crossed as your fingers twitched at your side. You leaned down, picking up the wine glass you had set down on the table so you had something to hold in your hands. Joel’s glass was resting there as well, and you hesitated briefly before picking it up, passing it to him before you lifted your own.

“To Hope,” you said quietly, your gaze one of solemn dedication, and Joel nodded just as seriously as he raised his own glass a fraction.

“To Hope,” he affirmed lowly, and you both sipped from your drinks, looking away from each other as you fell into a meditative quiet that held a conviction for your new parts in this child’s life, no matter what differences or complications may remain between you.

You didn’t see Joel for several days after the dinner with Tommy and Maria.

It was the longest time you had gone without satisfying a base need together since you had started your arrangement. You were a bit confused and, if you were being completely honest with yourself—which you never were—hurt. He had given no indication what he was thinking, he just…stopped showing up.

After going more than three days without the scruffy man showing up on your doorstep, you had to assume that maybe he didn’t want to do this anymore. Maybe it was too complicated now, too messy with the way Tommy wanted you both to be more involved in his daughter’s life. 

Your own stubborn pride made it impossible for you to go to him. The thought of being turned away from his doorstep made your stomach turn in a way that you hated, and you shoved any further thoughts of Joel out of your head as you turned over in your bed to try and get some restless sleep after a week had passed since the dinner.

Silent pleas you always made for your dreams to be kind were not answered that night.

In your sleep, you saw the face of your mother. 

Your subconscious didn’t drag forth memories of her often, and you didn’t know whether it was because they hurt too much, or if enough time had passed that it was harder to remember her. In those dreams, her face was more a blur than a tangible thing. Just a ghost of what you could have been one day, hair the same color as yours framing her features that you had forgotten through time.

Though you couldn’t see her clearly, her face swimming in the haze of your dreams, you knew she was smiling. Joyful laughter filled with relief left her lips that were upturned in the brightest smile you had ever seen from her. A matching smile was on your own face, as you looked down at what she was holding close to her heart as it was still beating.

In a flash the laughter was gone, her mouth only making a terrible shrieking, crying sound filled with insurmountable grief. Your father was there—you think he was there before too, but he was always so quiet, not seen unless he wanted to be. He didn’t have a choice now, as your mother cried and crawled along the dirty ground, hands clawing at the bleeding indentations of teeth on her wrist.

Your father told you to go. 

You didn’t know where to go.

You didn’t know where you could go, didn’t know what places existed without your mother to lead you there.

Knees pulled up as you hid in the attic, you tried not to remember the gunshot, or the crying as you looked down at what you were now holding close to your chest.

When the dreams receded, they left sharply, leaving you gasping for air with an ache in your chest as you tumbled from your bed. You hit the floor hard, bare forearms pressed against the cold wooden floorboards to hold yourself up, fighting the heaving sobs that threatened to overwhelm you.

It’s not real, you told yourself. It’s not real, but it was once. This wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. A cruel retelling of your life that you could never fully escape, and your hands balled into fists as you fought the tears, even as they streamed down your cheeks.

You focused on breathing. A slow inhale in through the nose, exhale through the mouth. Just like when you were holding a rifle, narrowing in on a target. You tried to replicate the calm from that feeling, the certainty that you were in complete control before you took a shot. A voice echoed in the back of your mind that it was sick and demented to find peace through searching for a kill, but it was your purpose now. Maybe your only purpose.

No, you had another purpose now, one you tried to remind yourself of even as your mind was slipping. 

Tommy. Dina. Hope. Family. Protection.

Walls in your mind, walls around your heart were slowly rebuilt with cracked, bleeding hands as you pushed yourself to a sitting position. Your head leaned back against the bed as you took shaky breaths, collecting the pieces of yourself again as best you could, even after losing all the shards that made you over the years. Even as you knew that without those missing pieces, you could never make yourself whole again.

After some recollection, when you put yourself back together again well enough that you felt like you were still here, still sane enough to keep going, your eyes slowly opened to see the light of dawn peeking through your curtains to illuminate your small, plain bedroom. You pushed yourself onto shaky legs, avoiding looking at the lone, old photograph on your bedside table, one of the only reminders that you still had of those lost pieces of you as you moved to get dressed.

No point trying to get back to sleep again now. Once you were wearing your least worn jeans and a tank top so your sweaty skin could cool, you moved out into the hallway towards your kitchen. A cup of coffee was necessary to start this day, and when you opened up the can where you kept the grounds, you swore aloud to yourself.

“Fuck,” you hissed, slamming the lid back down when you realized it was empty, resisting the urge to throw the can from pent-up emotions you weren’t sure you could keep from boiling to the surface for much longer.

You tapped your foot impatiently against the ground, chewing the inside of your cheek as you considered your options. Going to Tommy’s was out of the question—even if you managed to pull yourself together enough that you didn’t look like you were completely falling apart, he would still be able to tell something was off. He would fret over you, and even though you loved him dearly, his concern would be suffocating right now.

It’s not like you could go to Dina, either. Even if the teenager had her own place or a supply of coffee, you would sooner die than let her see you in such a sorry state. No, there was no way you would let her see you like this.

Then who was left? Those two were all you had, and suddenly it hit like a punch to the chest that the people who you had left, you were there for them. Yes, you knew that they would drop everything for you in a heartbeat if it came down to it, but would you let them? 

Or would you die for them first?

You knew the answer as well as you knew that the sky was blue or the world was fucked, and your head dropped into your hands as you let out a shaky breath. If you stayed here for a second longer, you felt like you were going to lose your mind. You just needed a moment to breathe, with the peace of a hot cup of coffee and nobody to care enough to ask you questions.

I guess I do owe you one, huh?

Your foot suddenly stopped tapping anxiously as you froze, recalling the words spoken in a deep voice annoyingly well, and you shook your head.

No. No, there was no way.

You turned around, still shaking your head as you crossed your arms, leaning against the countertop as you tried to shut the idea down. No way in hell.

The sight of a recently cleaned mug turned upside down to dry next to your sink, the ceramic engraving of the strong image of a moose gleaming back at you, made you let out a deep sigh.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself again, before moving to your entryway to pull on your shoes and head out the door.

Because there actually was one person who didn’t give enough of a shit to ask you questions. 

Somebody who still owed you a cup of coffee.

Music carried softly throughout the room as Joel’s fingers gently strummed the strings of the guitar. He finally had an instrument of his own after months of carving it, having given the other guitar he found to Ellie not long after their return to Jackson, so that he could teach her how to play. They still had a few lessons a week, and he cherished that time spent with her, an activity that offered further bonding between them, even as he could still feel her slowly slipping away at times.

Joel also appreciated the moments when he could be alone with his own guitar, forgetting whatever he was thinking about in favor of playing out the songs he could remember from before the world ended. Right now, though, he was idly strumming chord progressions, no particular melody or lyrics in his mind as he let his mind wander, finding a rare sensation of solace from the familiarity of the strings dancing under his calluses.

Nowadays, it seemed like it never took long for his thoughts to turn to a certain, irritable woman when he allowed himself moments like these. He huffed quietly to himself, his fingers pausing their strumming as he rested them against the wood of the guitar.

A week had passed since the dinner where Tommy and Maria had asked them to be the godparents of the new baby. Joel had been surprised to say the least, but he was also grateful for the inclusion in the child’s life, especially considering Maria’s opinion of him that he knew well.

Joel hadn’t forgotten the time when Tommy had stopped calling him on the radio, forcing him to seek out his younger brother just to know that he was still alive. There was a part of him that still held a bit of a grudge towards Maria for that, even as he tried to set it aside for the sake of the new life Tommy had carved out for himself.

Maria’s continued distrust towards Joel was obvious, but most of the time he didn’t let it bother him. Even as he saw how his brother’s wife was much warmer towards the woman who had sat beside him at the dinner. A familiar jealousy prickled in the back of his mind, the gnawing, negative thoughts telling him that he wasn’t as good or trusted as she was in Tommy’s new life. 

But those doubts had been alleviated when Tommy had asked not just one, but both of them to take a more important role in Hope’s life. 

Together.

What may have surprised him the most, though, was when the closed-off woman had shown a moment of softness when she lit the memorial Tommy and Maria had for two lost children, one of them being Joel’s own child.

It was clear she didn’t know who Sarah was, no hint of recognition in her eyes as she looked back at him and answered his vague questions about the reasons behind her actions. 

There had been a faint hint of understanding behind her eyes as she spoke, a sympathy that didn’t come from pity, but from somewhere else. Maybe her own experiences, Joel mused as he looked down at the guitar in his hands now. 

He still knew next to nothing about the woman, even with how many times they found themselves falling into each other's arms to chase the tempting thrill of pleasure. And in that moment of the quiet break of dawn, he couldn’t help but wonder about just who she had been before she ended up in Jackson.

Joel suddenly remembered the game night he had been unwillingly dragged into. He remembered the laughter from Ellie that had become so rare echoing in the plainly decorated living room, a sound that had made him think that maybe the situation wasn’t so bad after all.

For what seemed like the first time, Joel had observed that living room, realizing that he had never taken the time to really look around it before, even with how many times he had found himself in there in recent weeks. He noticed that it was remarkably empty, lacking any personal touches in favor of the bare necessities of a couch, coffee table, chairs and lights. There was no art hanging on the walls, no decorations or items that signified that anybody actually lived there.

The only thing that had caught his attention was a framed piece of paper on the mantle of the fireplace, the bright colors on it pulling him closer out of a rare moment of curiosity that he still didn’t know why he indulged in.

When he got closer, Joel saw that the old white scrap of paper was covered in the stark colors of crayons. There were shapes he could only guess were trees on the edges of the drawing, brown bark and green leaves that were more smudges than what they were trying to depict. Clearly a young child’s drawing, he had thought as his eye was drawn to the center of the art, seeing two stick figures with their arms connected where hands would be, one taller than the other.

Joel had looked away when she approached, feeling a rare sense of guilt as he realized he had been snooping. It was unintentional, and he quickly looked away, leaning his back against the mantle as he considered the woman beside him, seeing a part of her that he hadn’t realized existed until then. A part that may hit far too close to home, the woman possibly more similar to him than he could have ever imagined.

It was a side of her that he felt no right to try and peer into, given how she never said so much as a sentence about herself or her history. Joel kept any musings to himself, buried in the back of his mind out of respect for her wanting to keep her past to herself, because it’s what he would want done for him.

Besides, even if he did want to broach that topic with her, their rules forbade it. And he wasn’t eager to break that barrier that still separated them any time soon. He wasn’t interested in anything more than physical with the woman; there was no reason to try and get to know her better, no matter how happy it would make Tommy.

With a sigh, Joel placed his guitar back in its rest against his bedroom wall, standing with a quiet grunt from stretching his muscles. He shuffled down the hallway, the light of dawn peeking through the windows guiding his way. Running his hand through his hair to try and comb the curls that had gotten messy from sleep, he shook his head sharply, trying to erase the strange guilt he felt as he remembered how much time had passed since he had sought the woman out.

It’s not like he hadn’t wanted to. Fuck, he had woken up hard on more than one morning just from the tantalizing memories of her that haunted his sleep. He ached to feel the soft skin of her thighs again as he gripped them and fucked into her, to feel her quivering from orgasm after orgasm beneath him, her moans filling the heated air for only him to hear until the feeling of her all around him made him cum on her.

Joel could feel the arousal stirring inside of him even now at the turn his thoughts had taken, and he shook his head sharply again, brows furrowing in annoyance as he gripped the banister of his stairs tighter than he needed to.

He hadn’t avoided her out of a lack of desire. If anything, the absence from her presence was only making his lust grow stronger. Joel didn’t know how long he could keep himself off of her the next time they met, and he groaned quietly to himself once his feet hit level ground after descending the staircase completely.

No, it wasn’t that his interest in her had died. 

It may just be that it had grown too strong.

Joel didn’t like the similarities he had seen between them in recent weeks. He had seen hints of those similarities in the past, glimmering shards of her history that looked too much like his own. 

But it was becoming harder to ignore, and although it was selfish and unfair to them both, he thought that avoiding her would make it easier to keep that third rule of their arrangement, even if it stopped them from being able to fuck at all.

Needing a cup of coffee to restart his mind for the day ahead, Joel began to head towards the kitchen when a knock on his front door made him pause.

He stared at it, certain he had misheard for a moment before it sounded again, louder this time, and he frowned.

Slowly making his way forward, Joel’s frown only deepened when the knocking increased in frequency, the sound not only louder, but not stopping now. He huffed, picking up his pace until he was at the door, opening it in a swift yank and blinking as the knocker nearly stumbled forward into him.

When they looked up at him, and he saw the familiar color of the eyes, Joel held back a sigh.

Because of course it was her. He had to stop thinking about her altogether, because it seemed like he only unwillingly summoned her every time he did.

Joel’s eyes darted over her head to the brightening dawn sky as she straightened back up, his face carefully blank as he looked back down at her.

“It’s not night,” he said simply, half-tempted to shut the door in her face after the statement, and although his hand tightened on the doorknob, he couldn’t find it in himself to close it.

Because even though she smiled up at him, the easy confidence she always had unfazed by his gruff tone, there was something in her eyes that he had never seen from her before. At least, not so clearly.

“Maybe I’m not here to fuck,” she said bluntly, and Joel huffed as he leaned back on the balls of his feet. Hand still on the doorknob, and not letting her in, but he still stood there. Still listening.

His brow arching was the only signal for her to continue speaking, and she sighed heavily as she shifted. Joel noticed then that there were goosebumps on her skin, her arms completely bare from the tank top she was wearing, and his brows furrowed.

“I’m out of coffee,” she finally said, looking up at him with a gaze as carefully guarded as his own, but that same look still broke through even her own defenses. He couldn’t place a name to it, but he could recognize it. And for some reason, that made some old, forgotten ache in his chest flare up again.

“I did owe you,” Joel finally murmured. Still, he didn’t move, only stared at her for a moment longer as she continued to meet his gaze head-on.

Somehow, he got the sense that she was daring him to say something about it. To say something about that look in her eyes, to give her a reason to turn around and leave when he mentioned it.

Instead, Joel stepped to the side, allowing her a clear path inside.

“After you,” he sighed, and she rolled her eyes as she stepped inside. It wasn’t a bitter reaction, but it wasn’t as sarcastically playful as he sometimes saw from her either. It was just…tired.

“Always such a Southern gentleman,” she muttered to herself, and Joel scoffed to himself to cover a quiet huff of a laugh as he shut the door behind her.

He didn’t need to show her the way to the kitchen, and she didn’t need to ask. Joel only followed silently after her, letting her sit herself comfortably at the table they had fucked on not that long ago. An act that had started their descent into a lustful relationship that was getting harder and harder to make sense of.

Joel left her alone as he busied himself with pulling out his coffee reserves. His own supply was running low, but he didn’t mention that as he set the coffee pot on the lit stove. He leaned against the counter, his body turned halfway towards her even as he looked away from her.

No attempt at conversation was made by either of them. In fact, the situation felt no different from when they sought each other out to fuck. He was just a person who happened to have something that she needed; only now it was coffee instead of a quick fuck.

Joel didn’t complain, because he did owe her. When the coffee was done, he poured the bitter liquid into two plain white mugs, pushing one towards her as he gestured towards where his modest coffee station was.

Only when she rose to her feet to collect her mug, her back turned to him as she adjusted her coffee to the way she liked it, did Joel let himself look at her. When she turned back, her eyes closed as she breathed in the steam from the coffee before taking a sip, her body instantly relaxing as her eyes reopened, he finally realized what he recognized in her eyes.

The light of dawn caressed her face as she stood there silently, the tension in her shoulders releasing, the goosebumps in her arms disappearing as she sipped at her coffee, and he knew what it was that had brought her here. Joel knew because he had experienced it himself, voices and images haunting his mind for decades, even though he couldn’t remember them when he woke up.

His dreams had gotten better over recent months, but he still had them from time to time. He hadn’t lied to Ellie when he had loosely admitted that she was the one who had healed him, but the subconscious was a more tricky thing. Healing was not linear, and dreams were cruel, bringing forth the worst memories at times you needed them least.

The woman he barely knew, the one who stood across from him now and drank his coffee, was seeking solace from the torment of her sleeping mind. It made sense now; the tension, the shivering, the need for a sense of normalcy that had driven her to even his doorstep in the light of a new day.

That familiar look in her eye; fear, he now recognized it for what it was. He didn’t think he had ever seen her show fear before, except for that moment at the ski lodge. She always seemed to be so collected, so in control of herself. Her confidence seemed easy, like it just came to her naturally. But now he saw that maybe it was an appearance that was harder to keep up than he had realized.

Her eyes were still as sharp as ever as they met his gaze, and Joel straightened, resisting the urge to look away. He realized he had been caught staring, had been caught analyzing her, but to glance away now felt like he was admitting to picking her apart.

That had not been his intention, and he realized then that he was just realizing who she was more, the very reason he had avoided her for a week.

As if she could sense what he was thinking about, she lowered her mug from her lips to speak.

“You not interested in fucking anymore, Miller?”

Joel scoffed, looking away from her now as he shook his head. He wanted to come up with some witty remark, but for once, he didn’t know what to say.

“You’re not denying it,” she said softly in an almost sing-song voice, and now Joel’s gaze was tinted with annoyance as it flashed back to her.

“I’m not agreeing with it, either,” he finally replied, and she raised an eyebrow at his stiff tone.

“And yet you haven’t come around,” she said slowly, taking a step closer to him, and he tensed.

“You didn’t come here to fuck,” he said quietly, and she nodded in agreement even as she took another step closer.

“But isn't that the path we always seem to take?” she asked quietly, and Joel fell silent at that.

He didn’t make a move to stop her as she leisurely made her way up to him. His hand tightened on his mug’s handle when she reached him, stopping inches away from him as she raised her mug back up to take another sip of her coffee. Her eyes were deceivingly innocent as she watched his jaw tick, but he knew better as his muscles tensed in anticipation just from her being this close.

Joel breathed in slowly before letting out a quiet exhale through his nose, flexing his hand against his mug as he watched her carefully.

“Is this what you want?” he asked quietly, his eyes flashing back and forth between hers, and she paused.

She looked back down into her mug for a moment, at the last few sips of coffee that remained at the bottom, before looking back up at him. No affirmation left her lips, but he saw the answer in her eyes, the answer that told him she would rather fuck and forget than talk about her feelings, even as she opened her mouth to repeat the question back to him.

“Is this what you want?” she asked quietly, her own grip tight on her mug, and Joel exhaled sharply, trying to reign himself in.

They watched each other, neither making the first move, not daring to cross that line that continued to blur in the sand between them every time they came back to each other. And although every muscle in Joel’s body screamed at him to give in, to grab her and pull her to him, to satisfy that need that had been aching from a week away from her, something in the back of his mind told him to stop. Told him no.

Joel shook his head, frowning as words he didn’t realize he was thinking left his mouth.

“Is this what you need? ”

A short, quiet laugh left her lips as she leaned away from him, and Joel knew he had fucked up.

“Did you become an expert when I wasn’t looking?” she asked quietly, her tone deceivingly soft as she took a step away from him. “Or were you always one? Dr. Joel fucking Miller before the world ended?”

Joel’s frown deepened, shaking his head as she turned and paced away from him.

“Not by a longshot,” he finally muttered, and she laughed again, louder this time, but no less humorless than before.

“Then what the fuck, Joel?” she snapped, whirling around on him, her bright eyes now blazing with an anger he wasn’t certain was really directed towards him, or if he was just the nearest available target. “What happened to your third fucking rule?”

“We’re not fucking right now,” he pointed out simply, and he could nearly see her blood boil as she began to seethe.

“Fuck you,” she spat, her familiar venom returning in a way that was cruel, merciless, but Joel didn’t flinch. He could take it. Probably better directed towards him than anybody she cared about. “You’re not—”

She turned as she paced further away from him, shaking her head, and for a moment he was certain she was going to storm out, before she spun back around and pointed a finger at him.

“You’re not supposed to care.” Her eyes were narrowed, her tone accusatory as Joel stared back at her blankly. “That’s why I came here in the first place. You’re not supposed to ask me questions.”

She set her mug down on one of the counters, pressing her palms flat against the countertop as she took a deep breath.

“You’re not supposed to care,” she repeated in a quieter voice to herself, and Joel shifted.

“Tommy cares,” Joel said, his voice betraying no emotion. He sounded almost empty, even as he watched her closely when she spun back around to face him at his next question. “Does he know?”

“Know what?” she ground the words out between clenched teeth as she glared at him, and Joel gestured vaguely in the air.

“About whatever brought you here.”

She laughed again, the sound shifting from humorless to borderline hysterical. Joel began to wonder if he had ventured down the wrong path; if he only was poking a bear that was about to maul him, their weird, tumultuous relationship disappearing in an instant before his eyes.

But then she looked up at him, that anger in her eyes wavering, and Joel felt that same ache in his chest from earlier as he saw the fear bleeding through again; bleeding, bleeding so much that he wondered if it had ever stopped, if her wounds had ever healed.

“He does,” she said, her voice sounding strong even as it cracked on the second word.

Joel’s brows furrowed, his stance shifting even as he kept himself from walking towards her, watching as she distracted herself from looking at him by picking her mug back up off the counter.

“Then why didn’t you go to him?” The question was one of genuine confusion, and he had to fight to keep himself standing where he was even as he watched her begin to slowly crumple inwards.

“He doesn’t need to worry,” she murmurs, leaning forward as her knees begin to shake. “He doesn’t—”

Her head shook, clutching her mug tighter even as she slumped heavily against the counter, sliding to the ground in the same moment Joel��s resolve broke and he stepped forward.

Coming to a stop in front of her, he hesitated, not wanting to cross the few boundaries that were left between them, even as her knees came up to her chest. She cradled the warm cup of coffee to her chest, her breaths unsteady as Joel’s hands flexed, restless from feeling so useless in that moment because he didn’t know how to help her. He didn’t know why he wanted to help her.

But then he remembered how she had lit the candle at Tommy’s shrine. How she had taken a moment to remember Sarah, even though she had never known his daughter, or even knew that Sarah was his daughter. He remembered the understanding in her eyes, the drawing on her fireplace mantle, the question about Dina that she had avoided, and he knew why.

After a moment where only her shaky breaths filled the air of the kitchen, Joel turned, walking into the adjoined dining room. He stopped at his drink cart in the corner, grabbing a bottle of whiskey before returning to her. Carefully crouching in front of her and trying to make no sudden movements to spook her, he slowly reached forward to gently tug her hand holding the mug away from her chest, pouring a fair amount of whiskey into her leftover coffee.

Laughter broke through her parted lips, the sound less harsh, less anguished than before, and Joel’s eyes flickered up to hers to see the sharp color of them was disbelieving at his actions.

“Just to take the edge off,” he murmured as he stood, grabbing his own mug to pour some whiskey into his own coffee. “Don’t get used to it.”

She chuckled hoarsely, taking a long sip of the drink before sighing, her head resting back against the cabinets. Her eyes drifted shut, her knees not clutched so closely to her chest now, even as her mug still rested there.

Joel hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to do with himself even as his steps slowly brought him closer to her. Before he could think twice about it, he sank to the ground across from her, resting his back against the kitchen island as his crossed legs stretched out beside her.

They sipped what was now probably more whiskey than coffee in silence, and Joel didn’t say anything more as he watched her nerves begin to settle. He didn’t expect her to say anything, figuring that she would be out the door when she finished her drink. And at this point, maybe after she left, he would never see her again.

He nearly jumped from surprise when he heard her speak so quietly that he could have missed it if the room wasn’t dead silent except for the sounds of their breathing.

“Have you ever lost…” she trailed off, and Joel looked up to see her head turned to the side, her gaze far off as she stared into space. For a moment he was certain she had forgotten she had even been speaking, or maybe she wasn’t talking to him at all, before she quietly finished, “...everything?”

Joel looked away, brows furrowing as her words made him swallow thickly. He cursed himself in the back of his mind, realizing that this is why he kept the distance between them. Why he avoided her, why he desperately kept that third rule. Too many similarities.

Still, he found himself unable to help answering her just as quietly, “...Yes.”

She hummed, her gaze still far away, focused on some point past him even as he looked back at her.

“Figured,” she muttered, finally looking back at him with a dead-eyed stare that shook Joel to his core because, fuck, he had seen those eyes in his own reflection for twenty years. “Tommy said we had a lot in common. Guess he was right.”

Joel huffed, tapping his thumb against his mug as he took a slow sip of the drink. Eventually he muttered, “Don’t go telling him that.”

She laughed again, sounding more genuinely amused this time, and Joel hid a trace of a smile behind his raised mug until he could wipe it off his face.

“Oh, never,” she drawled, sending him a smirk as he lowered his cup from his mouth.

This time he couldn’t stop the corners of his lips twitching up into a small, matching smirk, and hers grew as they looked at each other before she glanced away.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured after a longer moment of silence that felt less like barbed wire wrapped around them that cut into them both. The atmosphere between them now was looser, more…accepting, as they sat across from each other and drank in silence.

Joel looked at her in genuine confusion at the apology, and apparently she saw the question in his eyes as she clarified, “For the shit I said earlier. I…”

She sighed, shrugging as she looked away from him.

“I can be a nasty bitch sometimes,” she finally muttered, and he actually let out a quiet laugh at that, one that drew her attention back to him as he stared down into his mug.

“You can be cruel,” he assented slowly, shrugging one of his shoulders as he slowly looked back up at her. “But so can I.”

She laughed softly, and he distracted himself from looking at her by swirling around the last dregs of coffee in the bottom of his mug. When she spoke again, he finally looked back up at her to see her face full of hesitation, which was an unusual sight for her.

“I also probably shouldn’t have said that stuff about,” she gestured vaguely in the air before finishing noncommittally, “uh, y’know.”

Joel stared at her blankly, because he didn’t know, and she sighed.

“Esther,” she murmured, shifting uncomfortably, and Joel blinked in surprise. Where the fuck had that come from? “I’m sure she’s nice. Really. And, uh—”

She cleared her throat, glancing around at anything in the kitchen except for him as she seemed to struggle to find the words to continue whatever she was trying to say.

“If you want to, y’know…” she trailed off, her head tilted from side to side, brows furrowing as she stared up at the ceiling, “...pursue her, or whatever—we don’t have to do this anymore.”

Her eyes darted back down to meet his, her walls still up, but he caught a glimpse of something, something that made Joel’s heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest as he cleared his throat.

Glancing back down into his mug, he tilted it to watch the whiskey-tinged coffee continue to swirl around the bottom of it.

Esther was nice. She was funny. He had genuinely enjoyed her company. Tommy was right, it would be a good match. And if Esther was asking about him, maybe he should go back to her. Maybe…he could be happy.

And yet…

Joel looked back up, meeting the eyes of the woman he couldn’t seem to get off his mind, and his throat felt tight as he swallowed thickly.

“Maybe you were right,” he muttered, and her brows furrowed as her eyes darted across his face that he was keeping carefully blank. Joel shrugged, forcing himself to appear as nonchalant as always even as the words slipped past his lips, “Maybe nice isn’t my type.”

Her eyes flew to his own, their gazes trapped in each other as the words hung heavy in the air. There was surprise bleeding through her guarded features, surprise that matched his own as he watched her watch him, and after a moment that felt far too long, her gaze quickly averted as she cleared her throat.

“Yeah, well,” she shifted, stretching her legs out so they laid next to his, her head falling back against the cabinets. “I could’ve told you that.”

Joel watched her look back at him, a small, satisfied smirk on her lips as she sent him a wink, and a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he shook his head and glanced away.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from nudging his knee against hers. It reminded him of the accidental touch at dinner, and her confusion then. But this time he had meant it, and he didn’t pull away. Part of him expected her to, and he wasn’t offended when she did pull her knee back, but then surprise shook him as she gently bumped her knee back against his.

They stayed sitting there for god knows how long, their knees resting against each other, drinking the rest of their whiskey-coffee until nothing was left. Even then, they sat for a while longer, until the light of dawn began to shift into that of early morning, and she pushed herself up with a quiet groan.

“Thanks,” she muttered, glancing down at Joel almost sheepishly, and he paused from where he had been shifting to stand as well. “I needed that.”

After a moment of confusion of his own unsure reaction at her uncertainty, he looked away with a shrug.

“Didn’t break our rules, did we?” He muttered as he pushed himself up, and she laughed quietly from where she was setting her empty mug into his sink.

Technically, they didn’t.

But deep down, they both knew that another wall had started to crumble down between them again.

Joel could feel her watching him as he set his own mug into the sink next to hers. When he didn’t glance back, she sighed, pushing herself away from the sink, but not before gently nudging the mug he had set down.

“You got some boring ass mugs,” she playfully chastised, and some part of Joel relaxed when he heard the familiar biting snark re-enter her voice.

“And your engravings are so much better?” he found himself replying, still not glancing back at her even as he heard her laugh.

“They are, actually,” she murmured as her footsteps echoed through the kitchen. “You should get yourself one.”

She had moved towards his back door in the washroom when he finally looked back, and he met her gaze as she gestured towards it.

“I’ll take the long way back,” she murmured, grabbing the handle with one hand as the other raised in a lazy two-finger salute. “‘Till next time, cowboy.”

There was no way she could have heard the surprised huff of laughter that left him at the unexpected nickname as the door swung shut behind her, but Joel swore he saw a hint of a smile on her face through his kitchen window before she disappeared from view.

[annabethchase06]

Annabeth being the daughter of Athena was great, but imagine the shit that would go down if Annabeth was Dionysus' daughter. That would be one of the most freaking interesting AUs ever. Together, him, Annabeth, Castor and Pollux would be one heck of a family.

Like Percy's just arrived at Camp and seeing the father-daughter banter. Annabeth threatening anyone with a broken bone everytime they called Dionysus the Wine Dude. Her reminding Dionysus' about his restrictions everytime he summoned wine. Dionysus calling her Annie because he gives (incorrect)nicknames to everyone but this time it won't be incorrect. Him comforting her after Luke's betrayal, in his own way.

The Athena cabin mostly looked at Annabeth as their leader. Dionysus cabin would look upto her as their sister. Castor and Pollux(and I would like to remind everyone that they've been mentioned as looking pretty athletic too) would literally give the evil side eye to anyone who looked sideways at Annabeth, even though they know that she's pretty capable of defending herself. She's still their little sister, after all.

Athena telling Percy to stay away from daughter was okay, but Dionysus telling Peter Johnson to stay away from his Annie would be EPIC. Like him just keeping an eye on them everytime they hung out together(ever since they were twelve year old kids) and also putting Castor and Pollux on the job. Athena stared when Percy and Annabeth danced together in TTC. Dionysus would literally yell "Hands Off" across the party venue.

Imagine Mr. D freaking out everytime she goes on a quest with Percy because that boy attracts trouble like no one else, but eventually (though he does not show it) becoming more and more reassured about her safety because no one would protect his daughter like Percy does and he was one heck of a demigod.

Imagine Dionysus straight up denying that Annabeth leads the quest in the Labyrinth and giving in after like, a two hour long argument, because he saw what that maze did to Chris Rodriguez. And then him seeing go mad with worry about Percy after she emerged out of the wretched maze sobbing hysterically about the best friend she'd just lost. Dionysus, his daughter, and his son grieving over the family member they lost in the Battle of the Labyrinth – both of them helping Pollux through grief because he'd lost his twin meanwhile holding themselves together as well.

When Annabeth and Percy finally start dating and share that epic underwater kiss, he just looks into the lake, yells "To the Big House once you're finished, the both of you! You still need my permission!" and walks away, sipping Diet Coke but internally, he's happy his daughter finally got the amazing future she deserved.

And if we can assume that somehow the falling into Tartarus part still happens(even though Annabeth isn't a daughter of Athena in the AU), Mr. D would be totally wrecked. And he's relieved, but his heart breaks when she comes out broken. He has to watch her and the Johnson boy scream themself awake at nights. To watch them cope through PTSD, depression and what not.

And he helps them, even Perry Johnson, because at this point, he's like his son as well and they're going to be like an epic Father in law-son in law duo in the future. He's accepted him just as Sally accepted Annabeth and he has so much respect for that woman because she gave his daughter love like a mother, she gave her what she was missing.

And now somehow Percy Jackson was a member of their tiny little family as well, and he's seeing his daughter finally get that peace. And he's happier than ever.

[creedslove]

✨HEADCANON MASTERLIST ✨

RULES FOR REQUESTING

MAIN MASTERLIST

• Main Masterlist (series and one shots) HERE

• Second headcanon masterlist HERE

✨ PEDRO PASCAL

• You're Pedro's girlfriend but you have a long distance relationship and he surprises you by visiting

• Pedro is casted in a movie adaption of your best seller and you two develop feelings for each other

✨ JAVIER PEÑA

• NSFW Alphabet

• General kinks

• Nail kink

• Being Javier's mistress and getting pregnant

• Javier railing you on the way home

• Javier coming home exhausted at night

• Being Javi's wife

• Cock warming with Javier Peña

• Javier painting your nails when you are too tired

• Helping Javi when he is frustrated

• Comforting Javier

• Javier helping you when you are anxious

• Fake marriage with Javier

• You and Javier suffer a miscarriage

• Javier with someone who speaks french

• Javier fingering you under the table

✨ JOEL MILLER

• Being Joel's wife

• Being pregnant with Joel's baby

• Joel cuddling with you and Sarah after a hard day of work

• Being Joel's wife and becoming a mom to Sarah

• Spending weekends when you are married to Joel

• Being fingered by Joel in public

• Joel taking care of you when you have a migraine

• Running into Joel's ex

• Joel Miller is such moanable name

• The baby won't stop crying

• Baby headcanons

• Sweet things Joel does

• Joel seeing the resemblance between you and your daughter

• Joel reacting to you saying you're pregnant

• How you and Joel met and become a little family with Ellie

• Lazy sex on the couch

• Joel taking care of you when you're stressed

• Sarah calls you mom for the first time

• Joel feeding the baby and getting food all over himself

• Being a hairdresser and taking care of Joel's hair in Jackson (slicked back haired Joel)

• Cock warming with Joel

• Joel in a relationship with someone introvert

• Being married to Joel and reuniting after the outbreak

• Joel tries to win reader over after her memory loss

• Joel + breeding kink

• Joel divorces reader to be with Sarah's mom and they meet again after years

• Joel on you having multiple partners

• You hire Joel as your contractor and you fall in love with each other

• Joel being your dad's best friend and having an affair with you

• Joel finds your lost dog

• You, Sarah and your baby wear matching outfits to surprise Joel

• You're the face painter at a kid's birthday party and Joel falls for you

• Joel seeing you wearing nothing but your panties and his shirt

• Joel agreeing on painting your nails for you

✨AGENT WHISKEY

• Being nervous to tell Whiskey you're pregnant and how he's like during the pregnancy

• Whiskey grieving your death

• Shopping with Whiskey

• Whiskey as a dad

• Whiskey goes to the hospital and falls for his nurse

• Whiskey takes you to the movies

✨ JAVI G

• Javi doesn't like to see you so stressed out because of work, so he sets a special dinner for you

• Sweet things Javi G does

✨ FRANKIE MORALES

• Frankie comes back from his mission and surprises you with your favorite: japanese food and wine

✨ DAVE YORK

• Faking your orgasm

• Dave's kinks

• Sugar daddy Dave York

• Dave hurts you during sex by accident

• Dave when he's jealous of you

• Dave is mean to everyone except you

• Dave takes care of you after you are caught by his enemies

• Dave York on aftercare, pregnancy and jealousy

• Dave lying to his wife so he can spend time with you

• Dave confessing his feelings in the middle of a fight

• Dave and you are married to other people but start having an affair with each other

• You and Dave are looking for a house but the real estate agent won't stop flirting with him

• Dave calming down anxious pregnant reader

• Dave defending you from a stalker

✨ MARCUS PIKE

• Random headcanons

• NSFW headcanons

• Marcus taking care of you when you're sick

• A quiet evening with Marcus

• Is Marcus messy or tidy?

• Marcus asking you to sit on his face

• Seeing Marcus with facial hair for the first time

✨ MULTI CHARACTER HEADCANONS

• Shaving pubes + favorite sexual position

• What's their type of women

• Fingering you in the middle of a conversation

• Their type of wedding

• What they do when the baby won't stop crying

• They take care of you when you have the flu

• When you ask them to go on a picnic

• Meeting your family

• Ass or tits

• You have a car accident and they come for you

• What they do in their free time

• They receive a spicy picture from you

• Working with Javier Peña and Dave York and catching their attention

• Who would make you cum harder

• How would they act when you fake your orgasm

[sturnsluv]

meddle about pt. 1

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when Y/N finds herself falling for her big brothers life-long enemy, will she choose love or family?

warnings: mentions of blood

⭒˚.⋆

3:43 pm

I watched Matt storm off, blood dripping from his nose, and chest heaving like some sort of MMA fighter after a match. My head whipped back towards my brother, who stood there like he was some sort of god, shoulders broad, face solemn, and that same bloody nose leaking wine-looking stains all over his white shirt.

“What the hell Jack!” I shouted. This is all they ever do: fight, fight, and fight. My brother Jack and Matthew Sturniolo have hated each other for as long as I can remember, which I completely understand. Matt’s an insufferable dickhead with an ego the size of the Titanic. Despite my best efforts to avoid him, I always manage to find myself around him, caught in the crossfire of their endless feud.

Matt’s brother Nick has been my best friend since 2nd grade when he punched a boy who made fun of the tiara I wore to school that day. Since then, I have been forced into a house that always consists of Matt. Although my hatred partly came from my loyalty to my big brother, Matt’s attitude had a way of making me hate him all by myself. Like all the times he’s made snide comments about Jack’s ability on the hockey team. Or the way he looks at me like his eyes are bullets piercing into my skin with every remark he makes. 

“What? he was being a dick!” Jack hollered back, his face contorting with a mix of confusion and anger. His short, permed, brunette hair fell messily in front of his eyes, and the back stuck up all which ways. He stood tall like Dad, but his green eyes came from our Mother. 

“Mom is going to kill you Jackson,” I say through gritted teeth, my frustration with their constant fighting boiling over. Mom had explicitly warned Jack that the next fight with Matt would result in him being done with hockey, but it seemed like these two senseless men couldn't keep their hands off each other, no matter the consequences.

Jack only had the energy to roll his eyes at me and stumble away, most likely to go clean up his battered face. I sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of our recurring “Sturniolo” drama settling in once again. Ignoring the turmoil brewing inside me, I reached down to my back pocket and pulled out my phone, immediately clicking on Nick’s contact.

Y/N:

our stupid brothers fought again 🥱

nick😛:

you HAVE to be fucking kidding me.

Y/N:

I wish I were bro

Nick😛: 

at this point I think they’re secretly in love and this is all a cover up

I giggle to myself cause honestly, he’s probably right. Nick always has the perfect way of making me laugh, and he’s one of the only people in my life I never feel judged around. Nick has held me as I cried and laughed with me hours later over the stupid boys who’ve broken my heart. He’s even forced Matt to pick me up after I had been stranded at parties or events. Overall, he’s always been there for me. I have other friends of course, but those friendships have never felt real to me, always one-sided on my part. 

 Looking up I slide my phone back into my pocket and begin the most dreadful trek across the football field. Okay, that was dramatic but looking for Jack isn’t exactly something I'm up for right now. Tonight is going to be restless from the amount of bickering I'm about to hear from him and Mom. The house was already loud enough with Mom and Dad fighting. Ever since I was eight years old, Mom and Dad haven’t gotten along. They’ve tried almost everything to mend their marriage. Even couples counseling, but nothing ever worked, so me and Jack just have to deal with it.

 I sigh to myself as my mind races, and the gentle trudge across the field continues toward the locker room, where I assume I’ll find my brother. But the fighting won't even be the worst part of it all. The worst part will be tomorrow when I'm over at Nick’s house, hearing Matt bitch and moan about Jack. I swear every time I’m around him I have to fight the urge to strangle him. All he talks about is the stupid cheerleaders he’s hooking up with, or lacrosse this, hockey that. His voice is unbearable and it’s genuinely the reason I question if I want to go over every time Nick asks. 

Suddenly I'm broken out of my thoughts when I hear my name called from behind me. I turn around and see the one and only center of my anger. Matt. His voice cuts through the tension-filled air like a knife. His expression is unreadable, but his body language exudes a mix of exhaustion and hesitation.

“What do you want?” I yell back at him. He’s standing about twenty feet away from me with the same bloody face he had about thirty minutes ago. My face drops when he starts to jog towards me and I’m filled with a feeling of ‘please leave me alone.’ 

As Matt gets closer the sound of his sneakers hitting the wet, sloshy turf rises, and so does my frustration. “You have a ride home?” He breathes out, panting lightly. Matt places a hand on his knee to steady himself, while the other scratches the back of his neck. His face is flushed and red. The fight obviously damaged him, and he looked nervous to be standing in front of me.

“That’s seriously all you wanted?” My face gains a snarky scowl and I look him up and down, noticing the way his hand is running through the hairs at the back of his neck and the way he lightly taps his foot on the ground. It's apparent he’s on edge, which I assume is because of the fact he just beat my brother's ass, but I couldn’t care less about either of them right now. I mean I do love my big brother, but not when he’s acting so prideful after doing something so wrong. Even if he wasn’t the one to initiate it. Matt’s loud but unsteady voice cuts off my thoughts.

“Well I just assumed Jack left, and Nick's order is to always look after you, even if I want to kick your face in,” He exclaims as he smiles sarcastically at me. I scoff and look away mumbling a quick ‘I’m good’ under my breath. I hear him start to speak, but I cut him off by turning around and continuing my path toward the locker room. I assume at that moment he turns as well, going off in search of his car.

As I walk away my feet drag against the turf, little beads coming up beneath me and I’m overwhelmed with strange, alluring thoughts of Matt’s bloody face. 

⭒˚.⋆

11:47 pm

God, will they ever shut up? I listen to Mom’s and Jack’s muffled voices from the kitchen. Tossing and turning in my bed, I put my fluffy, pink pillow around my ears to attempt to surround myself in silence. That doesn’t work as the pillow is too thin, and the yelling continues pounding into my eardrums. 

When the school called earlier and told our parents what happened, Mom was pissed immediately. Even though the fight was after school hours, it still took place on “school property” so both Jack and Matt ended up suspended. On any normal occasion, I’d be delighted to hear about Matt’s suspension (as it happens quite frequently), but now that Jack’s involved I think I might go insane. His presence in the chaos only amplifies the tension in our home.

But I keep thinking about Matt, and what he said to me. He’s usually not the type of guy to walk over offering any type of help. He’s one of those mysterious types of guys who always get into trouble, even though you barely see them talk. I think it’s all an egotistical act he does to seem tough. Whenever I’m at Nick’s he’s hidden away in his room playing video games made for children. It’s so out of character of him to even think of me and the more I contemplate, I can’t help but grin. Sitting up on my mattress I slap my face. What the fuck am I thinking? Nothing about Matt Sturniolo should be making me smile. Not the way his hair flops in front of his eyes, or the way his mouth lifts to the side when he smiles. Even the way his arms flex when he wraps his hands around a lacrosse stick. Ew! What am I doing? 

I lay my head back on my pillow, letting the thoughts of Matt drift out of my mind. My brain starts to calm and just as I’m about to fall asleep- Ding! 

“Ugh,” I verbally groan at the sound of my phone snapping me back awake. I reach my hand out and turn it over, and the bright screen practically blinds me. As my eyes start to adjust I’m finally able to see what the message is.

Matt Sturniolo: 

hey I gotta ask you something

⭒˚.⋆

a/n: first chapter lmk what you guys think! 😊 comment to be on my taglist!

[dukeyeatsdeodorant]

If the sides were in the Percy Jackson universe, who do you think would be their godly parents? Here are my thoughts

Logan's would be Athena, for obvious reasons.

I first thought that Roman would be a child of Apollo, but since Dionysis is the god of theatre alongside wine and pleasure, maybe he would be a child of Dionysis? As well as Remus since Dionysus is also the god of madness and wild frenzy. But Apollo being the god of music and dance would also fit Roman.

Instead I think Patton would be a child of Apollo since Apollo is the god of light and healing. But he could also be a child of a lesser known Godess, Dice who is the goddess of Justice, morality, order alongside her mother, Themis.

Maybe Virgi would be a child of Hades? I don't have a real explanation for this. Maybe because he's dead inside? Or maybe because he seems similar to Nico style wise. Though there is a minor god of anxiety, Oizys.

Janus is funny since there's a Roman god called Janus which I'm pretty sure he's named after. And he could be a child of Janus just for funs.

Then again, in Roman myth, Mars, (Ares' counterpart) has twin sons Romulus and Remus and it would definitely be funny to give him twins again , that he re-uses the names for, Roman and again, Remus. Though that would be a very awkward family reunion. At least for Remus.Just imagine sitting across from your older (half) brother who had killed your other older (half) brother with the same name as you.

I don't know too much about Greek or Roman myth, so my research may be inaccurate. :)

[captainsophiestark]

Lost Pizza Delivery Guys

Platonic!Percy Jackson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom:��Percy Jackson

Prompt: Dionysus; Wine, Cups, Dolphins, and Goats

Summary: Percy's cousin and friend on Sally's side helps him celebrate his 21st birthday right.

Word Count: 1,843

Category: Fluff

A/N: I also wrote this oneshot with Percy and his cousin being besties, loosely related to this one! You don't need to read one to understand the other, but in my mind they're in the same universe

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"IDs, please."

I grinned and nudged my cousin excitedly as he pulled out his driver's license and handed it to the bouncer before us. Tonight was his 21st birthday, and this officially marked the first time he got to use his card to get in somewhere.

"Okay, go ahead," said the bouncer, passing our IDs back before stepping aside. "And happy birthday."

"Thanks," said Percy with a smile and a nod as we headed into the bar. I beamed at him, dropping my hands onto his shoulders and jumping up and down a little.

"Welcome to adulthood, Perce! First round's on me, but you put in the order."

"Alright," said Percy, laughing a little at my antics but heading over to the bar with a smile anyway.

After a full-family day of celebrating Percy's 21st birthday, I'd asked for the honor of taking him to his first bar. He'd been all in, and I'd brought him to my favorite place in the city.

Despite being close cousins if you looked at a family tree, I hadn't gotten to be a part of Percy's life until the very end of his high school career. I'd been separate from the family I shared with him and Sally, escaping a bad situation when I was young without looking back. Once I'd gotten to college in New York, however, and knew I had family in the area, I decided to reach out and see if it would be worth reconnecting. And it had turned out to be the best decision I could've made.

My Aunt Sally was absolutely incredible, that went without saying. The few memories I had of her from when I was young were the things that had made me want to reach out in the first place. But finding Percy, who was only a few years younger than me, was like getting the little brother I'd always wanted. Even a little later, when a monster almost took my head off when Percy and I were out getting lunch and I learned about all the Greek mythology stuff, I didn't have even a second of regret over having these people in my life.

Luckily for me, Sally's clear-sightedness ran in the family, so I wasn't completely out of the loop when things came up. And, even better, I could look around the bar and feel confident no monsters were about to interrupt me and my little cousin celebrating his 21st birthday.

"Alright, first a toast," I said, raising my glass towards Percy once we had our drinks. He lifted his, too, grinning at me as I continued. "To you, Percy Jackson, hero of AHS swim team, son of Sally Jackson, and the best cousin I could've ever hoped for."

We clinked glasses, Percy still absolutely beaming, and took the first sips of our drinks. The night had officially begun.

We stayed in the bar for a few hours, laughing and dancing to the live band and occasionally refilling our drinks. Finally though, with a little less than an hour and a half to go before midnight, we wandered outside, smiling like idiots with our arms around each other.

"That was fun," Percy decided as we nodded a goodnight to the bouncer.

"I'm glad. And remember what I told you about drinking lots of water."

"I will. Maybe it'll work even better for me since I'm a son of Poseidon."

"That would be sick."

"Yeah."

We both stood there for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over us, a serious relief for the end of the summer. Percy had planned to spend the last moments of his birthday at Camp, with his girlfriend Annabeth and his best friend Grover. I knew it was time for me to let him go, to get us each a cab and head our separate directions, but I still didn't quite want the night to end.

Apparently, Percy felt the same way. He turned to me, a mischievous grin on his face and a light in his eyes that definitely meant trouble.

"Do you want to come back to Camp with me?"

I laughed, smiling a little even as I shook my head. "Perce, you know as well as I do that I can't. I wish I could, but there's no way for me to get in."

"Actually... no one knows how he did it, but a really lost pizza delivery guy made it through one time."

"If no one knows how he did it, how am I supposed to replicate it?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't know. But it's possible."

I paused, debating with myself for a moment. Worse-case scenario, I couldn't get in and I had a much longer cab ride than necessary. Not ideal, but not the end of the world either. And best case, I'd finally get to see the famous Camp Half-Blood and hang out with Percy and his friends.

"Alright," I finally said, turning back to Percy with a smile. "Let's give it a shot."

"Cool. Then I'm sorry for this."

Before I could ask what he meant, Percy held out his hand and threw a golden coin I recognized as Olympian money onto the street. At the same time, he shouted something in what I guess was ancient Greek, and the pavement before us started to bubble. A moment later, a smoky gray taxi rose out of the ground, suddenly sitting and waiting just in front of where we stood on the curb.

"Whoa," I breathed, a smile making its way onto my face as the astonishment wore off. "That is so cool."

"Maybe wait until after the ride to decide if it's cool."

Despite that shady warning, I got into the cab when Percy opened the door and climbed in with me. In front of us across the driver's bench were three ancient old ladies. It took about thirty seconds for me to realize they only had one eye between them, at which point only love for Percy kept me sitting in the car.

The ride from the bar to Camp Half-Blood were a few of the worst moment of my life. It was terrifying from start to finish, and although the travel was incredibly fast, there was also a stretch of that time where I thought we'd never get out of the cab alive again.

After Percy convinced the drivers, apparently the Gray Sisters, to take me even though I was a mortal, and after they spat some poetry about Apollo meddling to help Percy as a favor in the near future (which Percy seemed less than thrilled about), the car finally came to a stop. I rushed to get out, making a beeline for some bushes in case the motion sickness was enough to make me throw up. Thankfully, it wasn't, and when I turned around the cab was gone, leaving me and Percy on a darkened stretch of road.

"That was the worst thing ever," I declared. Percy shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Fastest cab service in New York."

I just shook my head, closing my eyes and then immediately regretting it since my world was still spinning. When I opened my eyes again, Percy had moved past me to the edge of the forest.

"I figured we'd try to go in the back way, by the woods here," he explained. "We're pretty sure that's where the pizza guys come from."

"Would those be the monster-infested woods you've told me about?"

"Yup."

I sighed, long and heavy, letting the last of the adrenaline drain away. Then, I managed a smile at Percy.

"Alright. Let's do this."

Percy pulled out his sword as I followed him into the woods, incredibly tense and jumping at every single noise. I couldn't tell exactly where the barrier to Camp Half-Blood was, but I didn't run into any invisible barriers, and by some miracle we didn't run into any monsters. After a while of walking, finally, we came to a beach, and not far from us I could see two figures waiting.

Percy turned back to me with a grin as our feet reached the sand.

"We did it."

"Did we seriously? This is Camp?"

"Yeah. The cabins and everything else are another walk through the woods, but this is the Camp beach. Annabeth and Grover are up there."

"Hell yes," I said, grinning as I moved to walk next to Percy. "Lost pizza delivery guys have nothing on me."

Percy and I high-fived, and as soon as they noticed me, Annabeth and Grover threw their hands up in the air and waved me over.

"You made it!" cried Annabeth, pulling me in for a hug. "How did you make it?"

I shrugged as we pulled apart, then immediately turned to pull Grover in too.

"No idea. However the pizza delivery guys did it, I guess. Whatever it was, I'm glad I'm here."

"Me too," said Percy, slinging an arm around my shoulders. We shared a smile, and then I turned away to reach into my bag. I pulled out the last surprise I'd been saving and faced the group again with a massive grin, two wine bottles in-hand.

"Don't tell your camp director," I said, smirking a little to myself. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover made a perfect scale of worried (Grover) to cackling, laughing happy (Percy) with Annabeth in the middle. I passed one bottle to Percy, then opened the first bottle and poured us each a glass. "To Percy! Happy twenty-first to the greatest cousin and friend I ever could've asked for. I love you, and I can't wait to drag you on every ridiculous, non-lethal adventure I can think of, from now until forever. And you have the next year to prepare for how many times you're gonna hear Taylor Swift's 22 at your next birthday."

"Hear hear!"

"Cheers!"

"Can't wait!"

The four of us clinked our glasses, and a moment later (like it'd been planned, which it probably had) a literal pod of dolphins burst out of the water, dancing and swirling in the waves. Percy groaned next to me while Annabeth, Grover, and I laughed.

"Poseidon knows how to put on a show for a birthday," I said. Percy sighed and shook his head, then dropped into the sand. The rest of us followed right after him, leaning back in the sand and watching the ocean sparkle and stretch out before us. The four of us stayed out there long into the night, laughing and talking and drinking by the surf.

When we finally decided it was time to head to bed, the trio helped me sneak through the woods again and into the heart of Camp. I wandered around happily, taking in everything while Percy and I made a beeline for his cabin. I'd have to leave earlier than early tomorrow to keep us all out of trouble, but for just one night we could manage to get away with it.

A Half-Blood's life was full of crazy, and even though I wasn't one, I intended to be part of every single thing that I could be part of for Percy, Annabeth, and everyone else he cared about for the rest of his life.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

PJO Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[bethanydelleman]

Very, VERY minor

Context Below:

The young son of the Lucas family who says if he is was as rich as Darcy he'd drink a bottle of wine a day.

Unnamed woman who blocks Darcy from sitting beside Elizabeth post Lydia.

Baddeley is the butler, he clearly has beef with Mrs. Norris and it's funny.

Dick Jackson was going to "steal" some dinner according to Mrs. Norris and she made him cry.

Edward and then Robert's prospective fiance, according to Mrs. Ferrars

Robert threw all his building plans into the fire (allegedly) and told him to build a cottage

John Thorpe didn't want to drive around his sisters!

Sarah Morland is the one who says Henry doesn't need directions to the Allens even though he's clearly trying to get Catherine alone.

None of these last 4 characters appear on page but I think their descriptions should suffice. Dick Musgrove is the son who died at sea and was at one point under Captain Wentworth.