#it was fine when i didn't know helen

[anditendshowyoudexpect]

oh so that's where Liv's Tania is from

this is what i get for listening out of order

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 8. restrained

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Patrick gets released from jail. You and Joel are left to deal with the fallout.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, threats of violence, jealousy, possessiveness, destruction of property, DV is an underlying theme but not explicitly discussed, reminiscing of smut, emotional abuse, reader being called degrading terms for women (not by Joel), infidelity

WC: 8.1K

Series Masterlist

Helen greeted him when he walked through the front doors of the station and he nodded to her in return, just like always. As he walked through the bullpen and a few of his men said good morning or hey, boss, he replied in turn. Everybody was looking at him and treating him like it was any other day. But it wasn't just any other day. He surely must have been walking differently, or maybe his eyes shone a little brighter. Something had to be different because he didn't feel normal anymore. He felt like a brand new man. How was it not obvious? Wasn't it painted across his chest in red? Couldn't they see?

Joel had driven home early from your apartment that morning, the sun barely hanging in the sky in the hopes of avoiding prying eyes this time. At least he had the good sense to park a couple streets over, learning his lesson from the last time he visited you at night.

He had all but given up hope that you would be his one day. Especially after hearing your heart wrenching story, he thought you certainly wouldn't want anything to do with him. With anybody. How would it be possible for someone who had been through what you had been through to trust anyone ever again?

He wouldn't have even blamed you. But somehow, miraculously, you did trust again. And you chose to trust him. You let him into your life, into your heart, into your bed.

Leaving you that morning was the hardest thing he ever did. He was minutes away from calling into work sick, but you insisted he shouldn't, that you would be fine, that you would see him later. He struggled with it, guilt washing over him yet again, not knowing what to do. You were so used to putting up a facade, lying and pretending that everything was okay that you had become frighteningly good at it, sometimes making you difficult to read. The sun peeking over the tops of the trees and the reassurance that Patrick was still in jail, if only for a few more hours, made him finally decide to leave. But the moment he stepped out your front door and fresh air hit his lungs instead of your intoxicating scent, he knew he was done for. He already missed you.

As he pulled into his driveway, he began worrying about later that night. Even with a restraining order, he didn't trust Patrick. He wanted to be with you. But Sarah needed him, too. He had already left her with Tommy the night before and he'd never done that two days in a row.

When he walked into his quiet house, his first instinct was to follow his normal morning routine: shower, dress, coffee, but he stopped himself as he was picking out a fresh set of clothes for the day. He pinched his shirt away from his chest and took a sniff, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before letting it go.

He smelled like you.

Deciding to skip the shower, he begrudgingly changed his clothes, hoping that your scent would linger on his skin all day.

He jogged down the stairs as he blindly finished knotting his tie. Heading into the kitchen, he flicked on the coffee pot and grabbed his favorite mug before glancing around the room. He wasn't usually one for breakfast, but he had a feeling it would be a long day, so he swung open the fridge to see what was inside. His eyes immediately landed on an unfamiliar styrofoam box. With a frown, he picked it up and placed it on the counter, then flipped it open to reveal his favorite sandwich from Tommy's diner, completely untouched with a note written on the inside lid.

Weren't at the station, thought I would find you here but I guess I missed you. -T

So, Tommy already knew he wasn't working late and he wasn't home. Shit. It had only been a few hours and he already slipped up.

Carol's voice echoed through his head as he drove to work. A warning veiled as friendly advice to keep things separate. As much as it pained him, he knew he had to be careful. This town was too small and gossip travelled too quickly and he couldn't risk fucking up your case against Patrick all because he couldn't control himself and keep his dick in his pants.

He should have thought about that before he left. He should have talked to you about keeping your relationship a secret, although you seemed to come to that conclusion on your own, having urged him to leave before the town woke.

Hell, he didn't even talk to you about the nature of your relationship at all.

As he walked into the break room and poured his second cup of coffee, he mentally scolded himself for being so stupid. He needed to get his head on straight. Maybe he could lie to Tommy and convince him he went on a walk to clear his head when he had stopped by, when in actuality your thighs were probably trembling over his shoulders while he buried his nose and tongue deep inside your sweet, little -

"Shit!" Joel grumbled, shaking his hand to flick the drops of scalding coffee off his skin before running his fingers under some cool water for relief.

Yeah, he really needed to get his head on straight.

"Hey boss, got a minute?"

Joel glanced up from his computer at Bobby standing in the doorway to his office with his hands on his hips. Shockingly, he had actually managed to get into a groove and gotten some work done. It was probably the longest he'd gone without thinking about you in a while, but he would find his mind wrapping itself back around you in a moment because his deputy was coming to talk to him about the last person on earth he wanted to hear about.

"The asshole's lawyer's here insistin' we let 'em go."

Joel knew he would have to do it today. Patrick posted bail and, legally, Joel was only allowed to hold him for a certain amount of time. But it still made his blood run cold.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to stand up, snatching his keys and rounding the desk.

"I'll take care of it."

As Joel made his way to the back of the station, his eye caught a younger man in an expensive looking suit waiting next to Bobby's desk. He was furiously tapping out something on his phone, but when he noticed Joel, he pocketed the device and picked up his leather briefcase from the stack of precariously placed files on the desk.

"Sheriff?" he asked, jogging to catch up with Joel's long strides.

"That's me," he replied gruffly.

"Beckett Kennedy," the man said, stretching out his hand. Joel came to a sudden stop, making Beckett stumble a bit in surprise.

"Joel," he replied, grasping his hand in a firm handshake. His eyes raked over the man's dark, slicked back hair as he tried to ignore his overpowering, and no doubt over-priced, cologne. "Joel Miller."

"Good to meet you. I'm representing -"

"I know, my deputy told me. I'm lettin' him out right now, heard he posted bail. Sorry, been a busy mornin'," Joel replied, turning on his heel to unlock the door that led to the holding cells.

"Much appreciated, Sheriff," Beckett said, trailing after Joel. The man looked very young. Joel was beginning to wonder if maybe Patrick hired a rookie, but when they rounded the corner and Beckett laid eyes on Patrick's bruised and swollen face, Joel quickly realized the lawyer was smarter than he seemed.

"The hell did you do to my client?" Beckett asked, his pleasant demeanor long gone.

"Didn't do anythin'," Joel said calmly as he sifted through the keys in his hand, trying to locate the right one.

"Bullshit. He fucking attacked me in a bar," Patrick said, standing up and gripping the metal bars. Beckett swiveled around to glare at Joel, who was still taking his time finding the key.

"You assaulted my client, Sheriff?"

"Didn't assault anyone," Joel said, finally finding the key and turning it in the lock. He swung the door open and leaned against it, rolling his eyes as Patrick made a big show about limping out of the cell. "Believe you lawyers call it self-defense. Your client swung on me when I was tryin' to have a calm conversation with him 'bout his alcohol consumption that night. Or don't you remember?" Joel asked, turning on Patrick now. "Maybe you had somethin' else in your system besides whiskey that's makin' it hard to recall."

Patrick was about to reply, anger flaring in his eyes, when Beckett held out his hand.

"Don't say a word," he muttered, and Joel grinned when Patrick ruefully clamped his mouth shut. "I don't like what you're insinuating, Sheriff, and all these charges against him are over the line. Two counts aggravated assault, aggravated sexual assault, public intoxication, assaulting an officer-"

"That one's considered a hate crime down here, by the way."

Patrick glared at him and it took everything Joel had not to bash his skull into the iron bars.

Beckett sighed as he scrolled on his phone, reading down the rest of the list of charges silently before glancing back up at the two men and saying your name questioningly.

Hearing your name out of that man's mouth made Joel's whole body ignite with rage. His blood pumped loudly in his ears as he tried to take deep breaths and focus on what they were saying. Keep it separate. Don't fuck this up.

"Yeah, that's my wife," Patrick had said, and again, Joel felt his muscles spasm under his shirt. As if they had a mind of their own, arms itching to reach out and strangle him. Wife. Wife. Wife.

"We're gonna have to talk about this in private," Beckett said to Patrick. Joel took a deep breath, grateful that they were leaving because he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold himself back much longer. But as Joel walked them back out to the front of the station, he felt compelled to say just one more thing.

"Now your client's got a restrainin' order against him. I trust you will make sure he understands what that means if he violates it."

"I know what it fucking means," Patrick spat. "You forget I'm a cop, too? Seems like it, considering the way I've been treated here-"

"That's enough," Beckett said, cutting Patrick off yet again. "Thank you, Sheriff. I'll be in touch."

"I am sure you will," Joel said, leaning against Helen's desk as he watched the two men leave, the front door clicking shut quietly after them.

"Piece of work," Helen muttered as she adjusted her glasses on the tip of her nose and turned back to her computer.

"Yeah, you're tellin' me," Joel sighed. He shoved himself off the desk and headed back to his desk, only pulling his phone out when he had privacy once again.

Joel: He's out.

You stood in the middle of your kitchen staring down blankly at your phone. The two little words taunting you, glaring at you, piercing your skin before knocking the wind out of you.

He's out. He's out. He's out.

You rushed down the stairs and triple checked your locks with shaky fingers before forcing yourself to take a deep breath. It will be okay. This time will be different.

You trudged back up the steps and locked the door behind you, one that you typically left unlocked because you felt it to be more of a hinderance than anything, but going forward you would have to take every precaution. As much as you hated to admit it, you knew Patrick very well. He wouldn't take this lying down. He never has. He will find a way, he will find you and when he gets his hands on you again -

"Stop it," you mumbled to yourself, gently knocking the heel of your hand against your temple, hoping to shake loose the bad thoughts. Just as another wave of panic was about to surge, your phone buzzed again.

Joel: It will be okay. I won't let him touch you.

You took a slow breath in and closed your eyes. How did he know you so well already? How could he know you, inside and out, almost better than you knew yourself?

You knew why.

Because he cares. Because he pays attention and listens and puts your needs first. All of them. Always worried if you ate enough, if you took pain medicine when you were hurting, if you needed a ride back from work, if you could come for him again.

You couldn't live in fear anymore. You finally had someone fighting in your corner, someone who could actually help you, someone you trusted. You needed to be strong. Joel couldn't do everything for you, although you were fairly certain if he could, he would. You picked up your phone and typed out a reply.

You: I know. Thank you.

It was brief, but you knew he needed the reassurance that you were okay. And just as quickly as you sent the message, another popped up on your screen.

Joel: Me and Sarah will pick you up from work tonight and take you home. I'll check your place before I leave.

Tears burned your eyes instantly, overcome with so much gratitude you could just melt into the floor. You hadn't thought about being alone overnight yet, and the idea sent a shock of anxiety through you. Be brave. Be strong.

You: Okay.

Joel: Miss you.

You smiled, your eyes crinkling just enough to cause the tears you were fighting to hold back to fall down your cheeks.

You: I miss you too :)

You took another deep breath and looked around your small living room. You made it this far. You could do this.

It will be different this time.

You had half expected the rest of the waitresses to know what happened when you arrived at the diner that evening. Every time you made eye contact with one of them, you kept waiting for the inevitable look of pity, or their eyes to travel over your face, trying to see past your makeup to what was hidden underneath, but they seemed to treat you exactly the same as always. The butterflies in your stomach quieted down after an hour when you realized Tommy and Maria must have kept their word when Joel asked them to keep your situation private.

At the very least you had expected Maria to try to talk to you about it quietly, or maybe Tommy to make some comment, but they didn't say a word. They welcomed you back to work as if you had been on vacation and you were actually able to push Patrick and the last few days out of your mind. Before you knew it, the dinner rush was nearly over, and you were close to surviving your first shift back. Your legs and feet ached as you unloaded a bus tub in the dish area. You felt sweaty and tired, but you still had a couple hours left in your shift and you could only hope that the rest of the night would be quiet.

"What can I make ya?"

Your head swiveled around in surprise, somehow not hearing one of the cooks, Thor, sneak up on you. He was leaning his big, hulking frame against the wall casually as he waited for your response, as though it wasn't the first time he's ever initiated a conversation with you that wasn't strictly work related. To say he was a big man was an understatement. With tattoo covered arms that were as wide as your torso and towered at least a foot over you, when you first met him, he immediately made you nervous. His intimidating physique and quiet demeanor set you on edge, but by the end of your first day you had realized he was actually very kind. Sure, he kept to himself and didn't say much, but he kept his cool under pressure and he was always doing silent favors for the waitstaff.

"Huh?" was all you could think of to say. He raised an eyebrow at you, giving you a look like it was the most obvious question in the world.

"I said, what can I make ya?" he said again, and then it clicked. He wanted to make you something for dinner. He's never offered before. In fact, you were fairly certain you've never seen him away from the grill once, let alone tracking down waitresses in the dish room for a chat.

"Oh," you said, setting the empty bus tub down and looking around uncomfortably. "You don't have to -"

"If you don't pick somethin', I'm makin' you a BLT."

You met his eyes again, trying to figure out what spurred this on, but his expression gave nothing away.

"Tommy told you, didn't he?" you asked quietly. He gave a small shrug and crossed his arms.

"Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout."

You dropped your gaze to the floor, trying to hide your reaction. He was just offering to make you a sandwich, but it was more than that. He was trying to do something to help. Essentially an acquaintance, a step up from a stranger, he was attempting to reach out and offer his support, in his own way.

He must have seen your eyes grow misty because he pushed off the wall with a grunt, ready to make a hasty exit.

"BLT it is," he said gruffly, and just as he was about to turn to leave, you spoke.

"With turkey?"

He glanced at you and you swore you saw the corner of his bearded mouth twitch, the muscles trying to pull into a smile, but he wouldn't let them. He gave you a quick nod and then headed back behind the line. You bit your lip to try to hold back your smile as you wiped your hands on your apron, then headed out the door back into the dining room.

It was getting close to the end of the night. The diner was closing in thirty minutes and there were only two tables left in the building. With any luck, you would be able to get out of there on time, eager to climb into the safety of Joel's truck. You had been nervous about sleeping alone now that Patrick was out of jail, but now all you could think about was curling up in your bed that hopefully still smelled like Joel.

You were wiping down the coffee machines when you heard the door open and Maria greet a customer. You groaned inwardly when you heard her tell them that the counter was open, and you hoped it was just someone who maybe wanted coffee and a piece of pie so you could still get out on time. Glancing up through the kitchen window, you spotted Thor and Tommy putting away the salad bar and listening to a hockey game over the radio. You sighed, now wishing more than ever that the customer didn't want anything complicated since the kitchen was nearly all broken down for the night.

The fake smile that you plastered across your face fell when you turned around, and you felt all the blood drain from your face when you met a pair of cold, familiar eyes set around a broken nose, waiting for you.

"Y-you can't be he-"

"I know, just listen to me, alright?" Patrick pleaded, looking guilty for maybe the first time in his life.

You looked over his shoulder at Maria, but she was too busy sweeping the foyer to notice what was happening.

"Please look at me, baby."

"Don't call me that," you said softly, but still, your eyes involuntarily slid back to him.

You saw his jaw clench as he cracked a knuckle in his finger, but he forced a smile anyway.

"I guess I deserved that," he admitted, leaning forward as his eyes raked up and down your body. "You look good. Uniform's sexy."

"Stop it," you said, your voice a little firmer now, but still too quiet.

"What? I can't compliment my own wife?" he said with a smile and a tilt of his head. You just stared at him, not sure what to say, worried about setting him off again. After a moment, he sighed and leaned back.

"Can I get a coffee? My head's fucking killing me."

You hesitated and glanced around the dining room, watching as one of the two tables got up. Maria wished them good night as they left, and she continued to clean up the foyer.

"What do you want?" you finally asked, your eyes flicking back to him.

"I just told you," he said, his voice taking on a menacing tone. "I want a cup of coffee and I want to talk to my fucking wife."

You took a shaky breath in and reached down below the counter for a mug. This was the Patrick you were used to.

"And then you'll go?"

His eyes narrowed at you and his jaw ticked to the side, but eventually he nodded.

"Yeah. And then I'll go."

Your hand trembled as you picked up the coffee pot and filled a mug. Turning back around, you stepped forward and placed the cup in front of him, realizing a moment too late that you were within arms length of him, but fortunately he didn't do anything. Hurriedly, you stepped backwards a few feet, creating some distance.

His eyes slowly lifted up from the steaming mug as he stared at you, something sinister flickering behind his eyes. Something that sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart begin beating twice as fast.

"You-"

He stopped himself as he clenched his fists and took a deep breath, then tried again.

"You fucking whore."

Your eyes widened and you stumbled back, your shoulder blades knocking against the behemoth of a coffee machine. Sweat was beginning to accumulate at the base of your skull as your fear spiked.

Patrick stood up from his stool and beckoned you forward. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the last table get up to leave and part of you was relieved. At least whatever was going to happen wouldn't involve innocent customers.

His face was growing hot as he beckoned you forward again, accidentally knocking the coffee over with a clatter, the dark liquid trailing like a lazy river down the counter. And this time, you shook your head.

"I fucking smell him on you, you slut!" he growled lowly, anger and fury lacing every word.

You gasped, your hands coming up to clamp over your mouth as tears began to cloud your vision.

"There a problem here?"

Both of you jumped when Tommy's voice rang out from somewhere next to you.

"No, there's no problem," Patrick said, unphased by Tommy's presence. "Just trying to talk to my wife, do you mind?"

"Actually, I do. Pretty sure you ain't allowed to be around her right now," Tommy said, taking a step forward, almost standing between you now. Maria's head popped up from a booth when she heard the tone in Tommy's voice and she quickly made her way to the hostess stand, picking up the phone and dialing.

"Pretty sure that's none of your fucking business," Patrick sneered, eyeing Tommy up and down. "The fuck you gonna do about it?"

"Call the police, for one," Tommy quipped, and Patrick scoffed.

"Oh, your sheriff? That motherfu-" Patrick's voice trailed off as he froze, his eyes going round as he actually stumbled backwards, his gaze fixed on something behind you both. When you turned around, you found Thor was standing quietly right behind you, staring Patrick down. Quite literally, as he towered over him by a good five or six inches.

Thor placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, urging you to the side so he could step forward.

"You wanna try that again, boy?" Thor asked, his voice taking on a tone you never heard from him before.

"You got guard dogs now? How many men in this town are you fucking?" Patrick shouted, craning his neck to try to look at you, but Tommy stepped forward again, blocking his view.

"She's one of our own. We don't take too kindly to people talkin' to one of us like that around here," Tommy said, squaring his jaw.

"Jesus Christ," Patrick muttered, then huffed out a disbelieving laugh before glancing around the dining room. He realized his options were limited, so he began to back away.

"Fine. I'll leave," he said, looking at Thor and holding his palms up in defeat.

"Good idea," Tommy said, still not moving until Patrick slowly backed up towards the doors, trying and failing to think of one more jab to get in before he disappeared. Maria quickly locked the doors and twisted around, eyes wide.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, rushing towards you. "I had no idea, I didn't know what he looked like-"

"It's okay," you said, waving her off and sagging against the counter, your body suddenly feeling weak.

"I called the station, Bobby will be here in a minute. Let's take you to the office so you can have some privacy."

Maria wrapped her arm around your shoulder, turning you towards the kitchen, but just as you were about to walk through the door, you stopped and turned around to look at Thor and Tommy.

"Thank you," you whispered, your bottom lip trembling. They both looked at you, Tommy waving you off with a smile, about to say something, but Thor unexpectedly spoke up.

"Don't need to thank us. Like he said, you're one of us now. We look out for each other."

You were pretty sure even Tommy was surprised by the amount of words Thor said at once because he slowly turned his head to look up at him in shock.

You gave Thor a small smile and nodded before letting Maria lead you to the back.

"When do you think I'll have a shift where we don't have to get the police involved?" you asked Maria, and she chuckled. It had been about twenty minutes and the adrenaline was wearing off. You were beginning to feel more like yourself again, more at ease. Maybe having people in your life know the truth wasn't actually a bad thing. You felt safe. You felt protected. And most of all, you felt like you belonged. But you also felt an unshakable cloud of guilt and fear. Guilt for dragging innocent people into your drama, and fear that Patrick won't back down so easily next time someone tries to stand up for you.

"To be fair, the Marcus thing could have happened to any one of us. You just got lucky that day."

You laughed and leaned your head against the wall.

"Yeah, guess you're right."

There was a soft knock on the office door and Maria stood to open it. You rolled your head to the side then straightened up when Joel walked in, looking frazzled and shaken up with the curls on top of his head messier than usual, most likely from his fingers anxiously combing through them.

His eyes locked onto you immediately and you could tell he was holding back. His hands fidgeted at his sides as he fought the urge to pull you into his arms. He glanced back and forth between you and Maria before clearing his throat.

"Sarah's out front. I didn't tell her what happened, didn't wanna scare her. D'you mind-"

"Of course not," Maria said, already understanding what he needed. "I'll take her in the back, let her pick out a dessert or two."

"Thank you," Joel said, waiting until she walked away before he shut the door and turned back to you.

"I'm so sorry," he said, quickly stepping forward to wrap his arms around you. You sighed, your arms draping around his neck as you leaned into his chest, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent. Your muscles instantly relaxed in his hold, your mind went blank and all of your worries, the guilt and the fear, began to drift away.

"I'm okay," you murmured into his shirt, but he just squeezed you tighter.

"I shoulda been here."

"You can't be here all the time, Joel," you said, leaning back to look up at him. "I know you want to do it all, and it's so sweet, but it's impossible." You reached up to cup his face, your thumb rubbing across his stubbled cheek gently. His eyes were still filled with worry, so you stretched up on your tiptoes, brushing your lips softly against his. He responded quickly, lips massaging yours before he pulled away all too soon. He let his forehead rest against yours and sighed heavily, his arms still holding you flush against him.

"I got three cars out lookin' for him. We'll find him and toss him back in jail."

You nodded, your eyes closed as you leaned against him, perfectly content to stay that way until your legs gave out.

"'Til we find him, you shouldn't be alone. Tommy said you could stay with them, or you could stay with me." He tried to keep the hope out of his voice, wanting you to make your choice without his influence, but he desperately hoped you would take him up on his offer.

"I-" you paused, eyes still closed, guilt slowly swelling back up in your chest. "Maybe we shouldn't confuse Sarah," you finally decided to say, and you felt his shoulders slump under your arms.

He wanted to argue with you, wanted to convince you to stay with him, but he didn't. He didn't say anything. He just nodded and stepped back. When your arms slid down from around his neck, he caught your wrist and brought it to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss against your pulse before letting you go.

You stared at one another for a long moment, so many things you both wanted to say, but couldn't.

A sudden trill filled the room. An upbeat tune playing from deep within his pocket. He slid his hand down to pluck out his phone from his pants, his thumb sliding over the screen before answering.

"Yeah?"

You took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest, watching as his eyes drifted around the office while he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. He stared blankly at some old bankers boxes filled with receipts underneath the desk as he nodded along, his thumb coming up to rub anxiously against his lower lip.

As the phone call continued, with Joel only giving brief answers, you heard a knock at the door. You cracked it open then pushed it further when you saw Tommy waiting on the other side. He stepped into the small space, his mouth open about to ask Joel a question until he realized he was on the phone, then turned to you, instead.

"Any luck?"

"I don't think so," you said, shaking your head.

"We got a spare room, you can stay with us tonight. If you want, that is," Tommy offered awkwardly. You gave him a tight smile in return.

"Yeah, I - if you don't mind, that would be great."

Just as Tommy was about to answer, Joel turned around to face you both, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"Can't find him," he said, trying to mask the frustration he was feeling, but you could see the muscles in his neck tense.

"Why don't you take her back to her place so she can get some things, then drop her off at our house? I'll take Sarah, you can pick her up when you come by. I'll make somethin' up 'bout a burst pipe or whatever," Tommy suggested, and again you could see Joel's exasperation seeping through as his eyes shifted back and forth between you and his brother, but he eventually agreed.

Joel drove you back to your apartment in silence. It was only a few minute drive, but it felt like it was an hour. So many things swirled around in your head, words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't get them out. You were beginning to feel like a burden. You were asking so much of him and this poor town. The guilt was weighing you down, suffocating you, and you wished you had just run again when you had the chance, but then his hand slid across the console and his fingers brushed against yours and your selfishness won. You allowed his fingers to lace together with yours as his eyes remained focused on the road, looking for a parking spot and again, the words were right there. I need you. I hate that I'm so much trouble. I'm sorry.

"Alright," Joel said, pulling his hand back and cutting the engine. "I had one of my guys drive by earlier, but just in case, I'm goin' in first. You wait for me at the bottom of the stairs, door locked behind you til I come and get you. Got it?"

Only when you quickly nodded did he allow you to exit the truck. You stayed behind him as he approached your door, giving the knob and experimental twist before reaching his hand back towards you, waiting for your keys. You fumbled for a moment and handed him the correct one.

The door had been locked. You just assumed everything would be fine, but you would soon find out you were wrong.

You stood at the bottom of the stairs like you promised, watching as Joel walked up the steps, pulling his gun out only once he reached the top, then disappeared into your kitchen. You shifted your weight nervously, lower lip pulling between your teeth as your ears strained to try to figure out where he was. The place was very small, it shouldn't take that long. After several minutes without a sound, your curiosity got the better of you.

"Joel?" you called up quietly, and you finally saw the shadow of his frame darken the doorway before he appeared and looked down at you, his face unreadable.

"It's clear, but..." he trailed off, his eyes casting over his shoulder before looking down at you again. "He was here."

"What?" you asked, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "But the door-"

"I dunno," Joel said with a sigh before pulling his phone out and dialing a number. "Maybe he made a copy of your key or somethin'."

You shakily sat down on the bottom step, his words repeating over and over in your head. How could you be so stupid? Have you learned nothing? He could have killed you and these locks wouldn't have done a damn thing.

You vaguely heard Joel talking to one of his men over the phone, presumably asking whoever had stopped by your place earlier if there was anything suspicious that jumped out at him, but it didn't matter now. Just when you thought he couldn't violate you any more, he did. He had been in your space. In your safe haven. What did he do?

"Joel?" you called out again, standing up and leaning forward. You wanted to obey him and stay at the bottom of the stairs like you promised, but you needed to see what Patrick did. Joel was still talking on the phone, unable to hear you, so instead of calling out again, you went up. When you walked through the doorway, you gasped.

All of your plates, glasses, mugs, dishware were shattered in tiny pieces all over the kitchen floor. Cupboards were left open, food was poured all over the countertops, spilling down the wood cabinet doors and mixing with broken glass on the floor.

You kept your shoes on and tiptoed into the living room where you heard Joel's voice speaking lowly into the phone. You covered your mouth as you looked around the room. The few plants you had were smashed, dirt was spewed and ground into the old carpet. Books were flung onto the floor, some pages even ripped out, and the couch was turned upside down, thrown against the wall. You barely even noticed the TV was lying on its side, the screen smashed, because you were fixated on the holes punched and kicked into the walls, pieces of plaster and dust piled up on the floor under each one.

Eventually, you must have made a noise because Joel swiveled around to look at you.

"I'll call you back," he said into the phone, and hung up before rushing over to you. "I told you to wait downstairs."

"I know, but -" you lost your voice, unable to continue. Your whole life was in this apartment, and now it was destroyed. How long did it take? Minutes? An hour? Was that really all it took to pick up your entire world and shake it like a snow globe?

"It's just stuff," he said, trying to reassure you. "It can all be replaced. You can't be replaced, though. You hear me?"

You looked up at him, tears already streaming down your face. His eyes softened and he sighed before pulling you against his chest, his strong hands wrapping themselves around your middle, cradling your head against his pounding heart as you sobbed.

"What am I going to do?" you wondered out loud, your voice muffled against his shirt.

"Stay with me."

He felt you stiffen in his arms and he looked down at you.

"Please. I'd feel better if you stayed with me. Just until we find him, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, trying not to show your relief but you already felt safer just knowing you would be under his watch that night. You still worried about Sarah, but you would make sure she knew you were sleeping on the couch. You refused to complicate Joel's life any further than you already had.

"Okay," he repeated, his voice soft. He leaned back and swiped a thumb over your cheek, drying your tears. "Let's see if we can get any of your clothes. Then we'll go get Sarah and go home."

Home.

You nodded and let him lead you to your bedroom, grabbing a tote bag from your small closet as you began to rifle through your dresser drawers.

Patrick had tossed your clothes around your room, but they didn't look like they were destroyed. It probably would have taken too long, you realized, as you packed a bag with whatever you could think of, ignoring how your comforter and sheets were piled at the foot of your bed, the strong smell of urine emanating from your mattress. When you stood up, you noticed for the first time the stuffed penguin Joel had won for you was torn in half, white fluffy stuffing spilling out in a corner of your room.

Choking back a sob, you walked towards the bathroom, but Joel reached out to stop you.

"What d'you need? I'll get it."

"What do you mean?" you asked, giving him a confused look as you wiped your nose on the back of your hand. "Why can't I -"

"Just tell me what you need and I'll grab it for you," he said, not allowing you to ask the question. You stared at him, trying to figure out what could possibly be worse than urine on your bed. When neither of you budged, you brushed past him and flicked on the light.

You only paused for a moment, Joel standing right behind you as you read the words repeatedly scrawled all over the mirror and walls with the few lipsticks you owned. Whore. Slut. Badge Bunny. Cunt.

You swallowed and looked down, averting your gaze to focus on packing your toiletries as quickly as you could. You heard Joel say your name softly from the doorway, but you ignored him and continued to throw things into your bag - shampoo, toothbrush, whore, face wash, slut, hair brush, deodorant.

A chill went down his spine as he watched your face harden and your eyes glaze over. Memories of how you pulled away from him in the past came creeping back: the cologne, the robbery, your marriage... Patrick, and everything he's done. He couldn't let you slip through his fingers again.

"I'm ready," you said numbly, pushing past him and heading to the door.

Joel followed you outside, making sure to lock up after, although you could hardly see the point, with what little belongings you had left clutched in your hand.

He jumped into the driver's seat and started the truck, glancing sideways at you, trying to figure out what to say to give you some comfort, but he was coming up empty.

"He knows," you said after a few painfully silent minutes. Joel flicked his gaze to you quickly before focusing back on the road, immediately knowing what you meant.

"How-"

"He said he could smell you on me," you told him, refusing to look at him as shame coursed through your veins.

Joel flinched. Now he was reading those words on your wall differently. Now he knew Patrick wrote those things because of him, and it made him feel sick.

"Did you say anythin'?"

"No," you said, shaking your head, still staring out your window. "Of course not."

"Good," he said. "That's... good. I mean-" he glanced over at you again, stumbling over his words. "Not good, it just-"

"I know what you're trying to say, Joel," you said quietly.

He tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh as another tense silence filled the truck.

"I'll have someone go over in the mornin', process the scene so we can press additional charges," he said, breaking the quiet. You just continued to stare out the window, exhausted.

"How will you prove it was even him?"

"DNA," was all Joel said, and you closed your eyes. You refused to give the situation any more tears, so you forced them back and opened your eyes, resting your forehead against the glass as Joel drove the short distance to Tommy and Maria's house.

"Why don't you just stay here and I'll go talk to Tommy?" Joel suggested, unbuckling his seatbelt as he turned to look at you. You stared straight ahead and gave him a slight nod.

He scanned your face, wishing he could see you smile again. He reached a hand over and gently squeezed your thigh, finally pulling your gaze off the dashboard and onto him. He hated that look in your eye. A distant, sad, hopeless look that made him want to comb through the whole town until he found Patrick so he could break every bone in his worthless fucking body.

"You're okay," he whispered, lifting his hand off your leg and sweetly pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger.

You forced a small smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. You took his hand in both of yours and brought his knuckles to your lips, closing your eyes as you kissed the back of his hand before pressing it into your soft cheek, and he felt a modicum of relief.

"I'm just tired," you said quietly, hoping that would placate him enough for the time being.

After about fifteen minutes, you saw Joel and Sarah exit Tommy's front door, her backpack slung over one shoulder, still clad in a soccer uniform. You hadn't realized she had a game that night, and you hoped the game had at least ended before Joel dragged her away to come to your rescue because you couldn't stomach ruining one more person's night.

He must have told Sarah you were in the car because she wasn't surprised to see you when she opened the door to the back of the cab.

"Your apartment's wrecked, huh?" she asked as she buckled her seatbelt. You looked at her, surprised, as Joel twisted around in his seat.

"We told her 'bout the burst pipe," he said, making sure to hold eye contact with you until you nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, it's a mess. Thanks for letting me crash with you," you said, turning to give her a smile. She grinned and nodded.

"It'll be fun. Can we do movie night tomorrow instead of Saturday, Dad?"

"It's a school night-"

"Please! Dad, please! She might not be here on Saturday," she whined.

Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes as he waited for a streetlight to turn green. You could tell he was exhausted, too, so you turned back towards Sarah to try to help.

"Tell you what. If I'm back in my apartment by Saturday, I'll still come by for movie night. Deal?"

Sarah thought it over for a moment before nodding.

"Deal."

Satisfied, she sat back in her seat and hummed along to the radio as she gazed out the window. Joel tilted his face towards you and mouthed thank you, and you smiled in return before looking out your own window.

You weren't sure what you expected when you saw Joel's house, but once you saw it, you could tell it was undeniably his. It was a remodeled two-story white farmhouse. There wasn't much in the way of decor, but what he did have was simple and tasteful. There were framed family photos that littered the mantle and bookcase, and the sparse art that hung on the walls were mostly landscapes. It just felt like him. Rustic, homey, and comfortable.

The light fixtures in the kitchen were dated, and the cupboards looked old, but in true Joel fashion, everything worked. Everything was taken care of. Not a single loose handle, squeaky hinge or burnt-out lightbulb in the place.

It was just after ten at night by the time the three of you arrived home. Joel urged Sarah to go get ready for bed while he walked down the small hallway to grab some linens from the downstairs bathroom. He dropped them on the couch and pointed up the stairs, where Sarah had just disappeared.

"You can have my bedroom, I'll take the couch. Lemme show you-"

"I can't let you do that, I'll sleep on the couch," you insisted, taking a step towards the living room but he wrapped his arm around you and pulled your back against his chest, his nose getting buried in your hair. You sighed and melted against him, weak and completely drained.

"Want you safe and sound in my bed. Please," he murmured against your ear. "I won't be able to sleep otherwise." You didn't have the strength to argue.

"Joel?" you whispered, your eyes closed as you relaxed into him further, letting him lightly sway you side to side as he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For... everything."

You wished you could put your gratitude into words, but everything you thought to say didn't seem like nearly enough.

"Don't want you to thank me," he mumbled before taking a deep breath. "But can you promise me somethin'?"

You frowned and turned around in his arms so you could look at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Don't shut me out, okay?" he asked softly, his fingers caressing your cheek. "I want you to talk to me, tell me what's goin' on in there," he said, gently tapping the side of your head. "No matter what it is, just... talk to me."

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling guilty, yet again. "I'm just not used to having anyone."

"You got me now, okay?" he said, giving you a quick kiss and then pulling back when he heard the water turn off in the bathroom above your heads. "I ain't goin' anywhere."

You gave him a small smile and took his hand as he led you upstairs. He made it crystal clear that the two of you were sleeping apart as he showed you his room, knowing that Sarah would have heard from the other side of the bathroom door. But before he left, a pair of pajamas in one hand and a pillow in the other, he gave you one more kiss, letting his lips linger until he heard Sarah flick the bathroom light off.

"You know where I am if you need me," he said, his voice once again a little louder than usual, for Sarah's benefit. He winked at you and shut the door, leaving you all alone in his bedroom.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03

[giantkillerjack]

Exactly! 😁 Neither did I, and I'm guessing this is the case for most viewers! [autistic film theory infodump in 3... 2... 1...]

I think this was by design!

The joke only actually works as a joke on a second viewing at the very least, because if we haven't seen the whole film yet, then we aren't on the lookout for all the little ways this movie is winking and nodding at us throughout!

On the first watch, we are meant to assume that Miles designed the boxes. And so him saying that the boxes must have been reset also functions as a confirmation to the audience that the boxes even can be reset.

It is until later that we realize miles is basically always making confident statements based on next-to no meaningful knowledge of the things he's taking credit for!

So this moment goes from a clever misdirect on a first viewing to a clever confirmation of how shallow miles is in future viewings! Miles probably never even saw those boxes; he doesn't know if they can be reset! He is an empty fool cosplaying as a master of puzzles!

But since it has yet to be revealed that all of his statements are empty, YOU were actually correct to look for meaning in them! As was I!

We were directed to reach the most logical conclusion, which is exactly the same mistake made by brilliant Detective Benoit Blanc! This helps keep us engaged with the story!

---

Another fun thing related to miles' bullshit being purposely obscured by the film was when Miles talks about the meaning of the Mona Lisa, he basically regurgitates the Wikipedia summary for the Mona Lisa as though it is some intelligent original art criticism he personally thought of (when really it is the same interpretation of the Mona Lisa we all learned in fucking grade school).

But what kills me is that I didn't even notice how obnoxious he was being in that moment (twice! I missed this the first two times I watched it!) because the film spends that entire monologue focused on Helen sharing her own secretive knowing look with the Mona Lisa, thus bringing us the audience closer to understanding what Miles is saying than he EVER will be. (What IS behind her smile? What DOES she see??)

And so! Also! In that moment, the movie is actually providing the fresh, clever take that Miles is pretending he is providing! Imagine! A fresh perspective on the Mona Lisa!! When was the last time THAT happened?!?!

I mean, I never gave a shit about the faded old thing til I saw this movie. I saw it in person at the Louvre. It is a small painting alone in a big crowded room. I went to see it because I had been told it had meaning and I was lucky enough to afford a trip to Europe in college. The personal meaning I took from it was "wow it is not worth being in a room this crowded when you could just look at a replaceable print."

And I'm obsessed with the way this film positions Janelle Monae as the new Mona Lisa: Irreplaceable, living, warm, priceless, real and true - and therefore infinitely more valuable.

I like how it makes that point in many ways, and that one of those ways is by using the very same bullshit that both the Mona Lisa and Helen (wake up boys new Mona Lisa just dropped) seem to see right through. And it's all hidden in plain sight! Which is probably the reason this movie is so eminently rewatchable!

One of the things I love about Glass Onion is the way that the camera and music work together to tell nonverbal jokes.

Like when Benoit basically has to hold Miles' hand to get him to the conclusion that someone reset the puzzle box Benoit lies about receiving:

Benoit asks if it's possible that someone reset the box, and Miles then declares that someone must have reset the box like it is this huge reveal - and the camera zooms out while the music subtly swells as though he really has figured out something smart, when actually he literally restated what Benoit just said.

[cherryheairt]

Request - @jason-todd-fangirl-14

my first request! tysm, I hope this is okay <33

TLB

req-Can I request some sweet fluffy with Bucky Barnes please? Maybe some injury/surgery recovery with him? Thanks! :)

Everyone is alive and well living at the Avengers tower, I had long hair Bucky in mind but imagine whatever you'd like

F!mc no desc, but being fem has nothing to do with the plot, just the pronouns

Bucky x reader

❄️

When y/n limped off of the quinjet, with Natasha's aid, she was reminded yet again by her dear friend to tell Bucky.

"You know he'll find out anyways, why prolong your own suffering?" The redhead asked, flawless as always even after their duo mission.

Y/n threw her head back, groaning. "You know how he is, Nat! He won't let me eat for weeks by myself, let alone go on any other missions."

"Maybe that's for the better." The elder snorted, earning a sharp elbow to the rib. "Watch it! I will drop you, y'know."

"No, you wont." Y/n smugly countered. "My poor injured self can't do this al-"

Natasha unceremoniously dropped her to the floor of the medbay's doorway, earning a surprised gasp from Dr. Cho and a pained yelp from Y/n.

"Nat!" she yelled. "I didn't think you would actually do it." Groaning, she rubbed her hip, sure that it would bruise.

Natasha only smirked down at her, then helped her up again. "Sorry, you know I can't resist when someone challenges me."

"Have some sympathy for a poor wounded soilder. " Y/n joked, not having any genuine hard feelings towards Natasha. Dr. Cho and Nat worked together to lift her onto a bed.

"Just a cut, I think, Helen." Y/n told the doctor with a slightly bashful look. She rarely ended up in the medbay, and when she did, it was always for some stupid and avoidable mistake. Tony lovingly liked to call her 'time-bomb' for her untimely injuries.

Bucky liked to call her reckless.

"Mm, maybe we should call Bucky in here to take care of it. Some Tender Lovin Bucky." Natasha snorted again when Y/n tried to swat at her, being dodged easily.

"Ha ha, Natasha the comedian." She said dryly.

Nat only bowed dramatically, striding towards the door again. "I'll leave you to it. I'm gonna go out with Clint to lunch. Good luck with your soilder!" She called over her soilder, jogging to the elevator.

Y/N groaned, sitting back into the bed as Helen fussed over her cut. "A bit deeper than just a cut, Y/N. Gonna need a few stiches." Helen told her, raising a brow.

"Sorry, Hel." She said sheepishly.

❄️

Less than an hour later, Y/n was hobbling herself to the elevator after being dismissed by Cho.

Praying that she didnt run into anyone on her room's floor, y/n was glad to make it all the way past the kitchens without a soul in sight. It was Saturday after all.

She entered her room with a sigh, stretching her sore muscles as the door closed behind her.

She walked to her dresser, hoping to shower the day away and take a well earned nap.

"Where have you been?" A voice startled her from her plans. Turning, she saw Bucky sitting on her loveseat, completely in silence.

"Bit scary, don't you think? How long have you been sitting in here?" She asked. Of course, he was old and used to sitting in silence, but some music wouldn't hurt.

He rolled his eyes, standing up. "Avoiding the question." He said, icy eyes zoned in on her worriedly.

"So are you,' She countered innocently.

"Doll," he chastised, sighing. "What happened?"

"Just a little scrat-"

"You got hurt? Where?" Immediately he scanned her up and down, searching for some major dislocation or third degree burn.

"Just a cut, see?" She lifted her leg slightly to the daylight coming through the window. "Already stitched up, Cho said I'd be fine to go on missions again in a few days." She assured him, hands on his wrists to stop him from turning her this way and that.

Bucky pursed his lips, sighing through his nose. "I hate you going on these missions alone," he told her.

"I'm not, I had Nat with me.' Y/n assured him again.

"It's not the same. If I went with, I'd be able to keep my eye on you instead of waiting for you here uselessly."

"You're not useless when you're waiting here." She planted dainty little kisses along his knuckles. "It makes it easier to do missions knowing you're here waiting for me. What motivation do I have to come home without you?"

"Don't say that," he said, though he melted into her touch nontheless.

"Its true." She grinned up at him.

Huffing dramatically, he layed his head on her shoulder, giving in. "Let me help you out with the shower, then you're confined to bed rest forever." Bucky said.

"Forever ever?" She laughed, leaning into his arms and the warmth of him. "A bit melodramatic for a little cut, Buck."

"Its not," he smiled back. "Perfectly reasonable."

❄️

After a much-needed shower, y/n and Bucky settled themselves down on her bed, her head on his chest while she laid on her good leg's side.

The silence was peaceful, only the sound of breathing and heartbeats in the room.

"I guess it is kinda nice," she spoke up softly, in her haze of comfort.

"hm?' Bucky mumbled, playing with a strand of her hair.

"Sitting in silence." She replied, earning a quiet chuckle from his chest.

He kissed the crown of her head softly, "get some rest. I'll take care of you."

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 10

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader wakes up.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of hospital care.

“So, I’m gonna make it really clear, you’re going to have your work cut out with her. She’s stubborn, a know it all, unfortunately because she does know it all, photographic memory and all that, the situations she sometimes gets herself in aren’t always great but she always and I mean always has a way out. She doesn’t eat right. Her sleep pattern is worse than a teething toddler and believe me I know” He said looking down at Nathanial in his arms, “but she is fiercely loyal, if you call her for anything, she could be having tea with a royal and she’d drop everything to save your ass or in Laura’s case so you can have a shower without a screaming child and take a nap in peace. She’ll hold you through your nightmares, be your biggest supporter and snap a guys neck if they’ve hurt you. She feels all her emotions at ten times the level we do. Sometimes that’s great, sometimes it’s really not. Now, I’m gonna ask you, don’t pursue this unless you’re sure. Please.”

“She’s our soulmate Clint, there’s no way we aren’t pursuing this.” Replied Steve.

“I know she’s your soulmate but….”

“But what?” Asked Bucky.

“She sometimes, well it’s not my place to say.”

Steve and Bucky both huffed in response. They’d been sick of those words over the last few days. When you’d gripped the bed rail and bent it right in front of them it was clear you were different in some way. Match that with carrying Pietro like you did, Steve and Bucky were sure you were like them. A super soldier.

When Helen Cho entered the room after you’d been sedated, and spoke quietly to Bruce as they set up the cradle, they didn’t miss Bruce’s whispered “accelerated healing” or the mention of having to possibly rebreak some of your bones as they’d have already have set wrong. When they asked Bruce the response was “it’s not my place to say”. The same words were uttered when Steve asked Natasha why her and Clint were her emergency contacts and next of kin.

“You know I’m sick of hearing those words.” Steve told Clint.

“You know what fine, fuck it, yes I know language in front of the baby. He’s heard worse. Natasha and Y/N are his godmothers, he probably knows the f bomb in six different languages already. Look she struggles with the whole soul mate thing.”

Bucky’s head snapped up.

“How so?” Asked Steve.

Before Clint had chance to answer you groaned from the bed, causing the three men to jump to their feet, Nathanial jostling in Clint’s arms.

“Lightsssss, bright light, bright light.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes tightly.

“Shit, I forgot, F.R.I.D.A.Y dim the lights.” Clint instructed. “Good morning you little gremlin.”

“Gremlin?” Steve asked. “Sweetheart can you hear us?”

“It’s from a movie.” Bucky answered “Don’t put it on your damn list, it’s awful. Babydoll?”

“It is not. It’s a cult piece.” Clint replied.

“Whatever. Doll, can you hear us?”

You groaned again and muttered Clint’s name. He pushed past Steve and handed him a wiggling Nathanial, squeezing your hand and stroking your face affectionately. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey kid, I’m here, open your eyes, you’ve had us all worried. Laura’s even started knitting again, you know how she hates it, only does it to keep herself busy, and don’t get me started on Natasha. I thought we’d have to sedate her at one point.”

“Natty.” You replied as your eyes started to flicker open.

“She’s upstairs, probably already on her way down.”

Bucky huffed. He didn’t want everyone in here. He wanted to speak to you, hold you, take care of you, figure out how the hell you were here. You started to look around, still squinting, jumping when you saw you were in the Med Bay.

“Easy kid. You’re in the compound Med Bay. You've been out for three days.”

You started to fidget in the bed.

“Y/N, listen.” and he gently cupped your jaw, moving your face to look at him. “You’re gonna be OK kid, you scared the shit out of us all, but you’ll be OK. You’re in the compound. Only Banner and Cho have looked at you. OK?”

You nodded in reply, your eyes full of tears. Clint kissed your forehead.

“Pietro? Did he? Is he?”

“He’s alive. See?” Clint stood upright and pointed to the next room in the bay. You followed his pointing to see you were separated by a glass wall but sure enough there was Pietro. Wanda and Vision at his bedside. He waved weakly at you and you attempted to wave back.

“Careful sweetheart.” You glanced up at the voice, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Hi honey.”

Spotting baby Nathanial in his arms, you reached out and made a gesture for Steve to pass him to you.

“Gimme.”

“Y/N,” Clint said as he perched on the bed “really?”

“Baby, gimme please.” You looked up at Steve with puppy eyes, who realised he immediately had no defence against your sad face and he turned to Clint, not knowing what to do. You pushed out your bottom lip for added effect and looked back at Clint.

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to sit up a little. Clint replied, before gathering up some pillows.

You tried to push yourself up as much as possible and Bucky silently tried to help. Why were you ignoring them? Clint moved around to the side of the bed Bucky was at and placed a pillow under your arm, saying something about it being the best side as your drip was gone, before whispering to you.

“Maybe stop being a brat and acknowledge your soulmates.”

You shifted uneasily and glanced at Clint as he gave you a knowing look, before he gestured at Steve to come around with Nathanial.

“Hello.” You said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Babydoll” “Sweetheart.”

Bucky placed a kiss on your head as you side eyed him.

“Is this a good idea?” Steve asked as Nathanial wiggled in his arms some more. “You said yourself how unsettled he is.”

“Just watch.” Clint laid Nathanial in the crook of your arm, making sure the pillow took most the weight. Nathanial snuggled into you, taking out his pacifier to give you a drool filled grin.

“Hi baby.” You said softly. Nathanial snuggled down more and closed his eyes, gripping on to the blanket Clint had placed over him.

The three watched you fondly as Nathanial drifted off to sleep, as you stroked his face affectionately. Bucky and Steve both felt a lump form in their throat as they watched. Thoughts of what could have been and what could be filling their heads. White picket fences seemed so far away now but there was something about you, their soulmate, with a baby in her arms.

Clint slipped back discreetly from between the two and moved to the other side of the bed. Spotting Natasha and Bruce hurrying down the corridor he gestured for them to slow down and wait, nodding back at Steve and Bucky. Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky mirrored his actions in return.

“We got her back bud.”

Bucky went to speak but let out a sob instead, as tears began to run down his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. You side eyed them not really knowing what to do. Clint noticed your uncomfortableness and squeezed your hand affectionately as tears formed in your eyes. You leaned back into the pillows, shaking your head.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” You almost whispered. “I can’t be their soulmate.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@abaker74 @animegirlgeeky @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian

[yellow-dejavu]

When I saw Dark, I definitely expected characters like Hannah and Ulrich to be hated. I wasn't surprised when I saw comments disliking them on different websites, but I just didn't expect to see people celebrating that Hannah was murdered by her own child while her younger child was sleeping in the same room.

People can enjoy any moment they want while watching a show or movie, but I just don't get it. Hannah gets an amount of hate that no other character in the show gets, and it feels like a large part of the show's viewers ignore to even trying to understand her.

jonas literally says in the first episode:

“My father said good and evil are a question of perspective.”

I'm not saying her character didn't do bad things, but it's exhausting how that's the only thing people see about her and it's just like they're trying to erase the good she did or all the positive things she meant in certain characters' lives.

I was even more shocked to see how few comments put Hannah on the same level as Helene Albers. I just don't understand how anyone could think that Hannah is somehow comparable to an abusive parent.

Hannah with her kids:

When she saw her boy struggling to cope with his dad's dead, she supported her child and made sure he got the professional help he needed.

And when Jonas came back to town, she made sure he got his medications and therapy sessions with Peter.

Hannah was so worried when Jonas tells her he had a fight at the end of the first season.

In the same scene, he just wanted to comfort his mother by saying, "Don't worry, Mom. Everything will be fine, Mom." when he actually believed that he could save Mikkel and thus end his own existence.

As the months passed since her son's disappearance, Hannah was so devastated that she almost took her own life.

She didn't, because Stranger Jonas appeared.

Stranger Jonas has returned after years of living in the apocalypse, and he doesn't know what else to do when his plan fails. The only thing he can think of is to go to his mom and tell her the truth.

After the time young Jonas spent traveling with Claudia, the first thing he does when he finally returns home is look for his mom.

It was a long time before Hannah saw her son again.

But she went to see him immediately when a random old woman told her that she knew where her son was and that he needed her.

Hannah was heartbroken when she saw what had happened to her boy. In that moment she apologized, recognized her mistakes, and told him that she was there for him.

Young Adam looked scary, but Hannah loved him anyway, and baby Silja trusted him when he said, "I want to show you a secret. But we'll let your mom rest, okay?"

Hannah died when Silja was very young and she probably didn't remember much about her mom, but she still named her firstborn Hanno after her.

and that's just to mention some of the things I could remember about Hannah's relationship with her kids.

The last dialogue of the whole show:

"I always thought "Jonas" was a good name."

Hannah was a good mom and her kids absolutely loved her. It bothers me that some people want to take that away from her because they don’t like her.

It's really hard for me to understand how some viewers can watch a show like Dark and decide that they can see all the million gray areas that all these characters had, but with one particular character they reduce everything to black and white.

[katerinaaqu]

Heyo!

I don't know how exactly to phrase this but I was wondering if you know anything about Odysseus trying/planing to kill Diomedes while they were stealing the Palladium. I have heard some people say that Odysseus did try to kill Diomedes while doing so but Diomedes noticed him so Odysseus stopped.

This feels so strange to me as Odysseus and Diomedes aren’t antagonistic in the Illiad and Diomedes is loved by Athena like Odysseus so betraying him, especially for hubris, seems like a good way to end up on Athena's bad side.

Also the translated summaries of Little Illiad I know don't mention it either but I know those translations can be missing out context. I suspect the Odysseus Betrayal is a "later adition" to the Epic Cycle but I am not that confident on that opinion.

Yes absolutely and I understand completely what you say. That is because the Palladium Heist betrayal story was peobably not part of the original epic cycle but rather a later adittion. More specifically through the work called Bibliotheca by Photius I, the ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinopole in 9th century seems to be mentioning in his work a Roman mythographer named Conon.

Conon lived and created during the times of Augustus. It seems that he is one of the oldest if not the oldest mythographer to ever mention this story. So the story quoted by Photius goes as such;

Basically after the revelation of Helen's Diomedes and Odysseus enter the city. Odysseus helps Diomedes on his shoulders so that he could climb but when he reaches out his hand Diomedes doesn't take him in and goes for the Palladium himself. When he comes back apparently Odysseus asks him on it and, according to Photius who quotes Conon, Diomedes "knows his cunning" and says that he didn't find it. That a spirit stole it and that he has another one. Odysseus realizes he is lying so he eventually draws his sword to kill Diomedes and take the Palladium to the Greeks himself. Apparently as he goes to stab Diomedes in the back, his sword casts a shadow by the moonlight or the glint of the weapon, Diomedes sees it and deflects him. He draws his own sword and threatens Odysseus with it wishing to "punish him for his cowardice" but eventually he decides otherwise (arguably knowing that the war needs him) and thus he drives him back to the camp while hitting him on his back with the flat of his sword. And according to Photius this is what gave the famous phrase to Greek language διομή��εια ανάγκη (Diomedes Need) which basically means "do something unpleasant out of necessity for the greater good"

So as you see the story does seem pretty bizarre. First it implies mutual distrust and rivalry between the homeric heroes for Diomedes doesn't take Odysseus in the temple, Odysseus asks him on the Palladium obviously with intention to steal it and Diomedes lying to him and of course the actual act. For starters Odysseus ready to kill Diomedes for the sakes of fame (while he literally saves his life in the Iliad) and not only that, be greedy and stupid enough to hold a sword to the moonlight. So it holds many contradictions to the entirety of Epic Cycle even Iliou Persis which also shows a more unpleasant side of Odysseus.

My guess is that the story is mostly linked to traditions of later years especially Roman sources and is not directly linked to the Epic Cycle. Even art of later years doesn't depict the Palladium Heist as a negative aura between the two heroes. If anything they seem to be cooperating just fine. And as I said this myth as told by Conon shows BOTH Diomedes and Odysseus as rivals and equally antagonizing and deceiving each other which doesn't usually appear to the Epic Cycle. Although of course we cannot be 100% sure given how the Epic Cycle is lost, it seems to me more like a roman legend that usually depict Greek heroes of Troy in general and Odysseus in particular, in the most negative light possible given how Odysseus is known for taking Troy, the mythical city of origin to the Romans (given how Aeneas who barely escapes with his life from Troy is the ancestor of the founders of Rome)

I hope this answers your question; to summarize it seems to me that this story of the Palladium Heist has as much connection to the Epic Cycle as Ovid has to Medusa legend; seems more like a version either created or told by Conon based on traditions of his time and the general anti-Odysseus climate.

[johnwickb1tsch]

you’re the worst thing (i’m addicted to)

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here...

Part 1.

“Hey, Hels.”

There is no answer, only the warbling of a bird in a distant tree. The day is bright and blue, spring has come again in all her glory. It doesn’t seem right, somehow, that the sun should still shine, and the birds should still sing.

Because she is gone.

It’s been two years, but you still haven’t really wrapped your head around it.

You still have your last text message thread with her in your phone. It’s as though you could just punch a few buttons and still talk to her. Always, she would answer you, no matter what she was doing. Sometimes you want to type in I miss you and hit send, just to see what might happen.

But then, maybe it is appropriate, that today should be such a beautiful day. On this day, forty-two years ago, your sister was born. Roughly ten years later, you followed. As a direct result, your mother died of complications in childbirth.

Your father still blamed you, but Helen never did.

In a way, Helen was your mother, more than the woman who bore you.

It makes it all hurt so much more.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

You look down at the stone, this massive granite behemoth. You find it rather ugly, to be honest, but it will certainly stand the test of time, nuclear war notwithstanding. Loving Wife, reads the epitaph below.

You know it was true.

You know that perhaps John Wick is the only person Helen loved more than you. But the inscription still seems too brief. Short changing her, somehow. 

But then, John paid for the stone, so you suppose he got to pick what it said. 

You were ensuring her memory lived on in other ways. 

“I finally did as you asked,” you tell her. “I’ve used the photos you left me in a painting. We're going to be in a show together. I wish you were here to see it.”

There is a mean part of you that suspects your submission was only accepted because it contained work from the late, great, photographer Helen Morgan-Wick, but you shove that down into the seething pit with all the rest of your fears and doubts. You didn't use them for the attention. You did it to feel close to her, and because she asked you to. One final art project, the note had said. She knew you too well, knew that the only thing that kept you from toeing the line of the abyss was a good artistic obsession.

You knew she’d planned to leave a project for John too. A puppy, she’d said. You’d shared a laugh over it, through tears, the last time you’d been together. You never found out how that had gone. John hadn’t attended a family gathering since Helen passed.

Too painful.

You didn’t blame him one bit. 

“I miss you, Hels. I feel so lost without you.”

“Amen.”

The sound of another voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You turn to find him, in one of his signature tailored black suits, looking unfairly scrumptious despite the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't made a sound in his approach. He never did. The man moved like a ghost and looked like a dark dream. You'd always found him insanely attractive.

You'd never done anything about that, of course. But goddamn, you had eyes.

���Hi, John.”

“Hello, y/n.”

You’ve never run into him at the gravesite before, though you have seen the wilted offerings of daisies left by the stone, and you always had assumed they’d come from him. You haven’t seen him since Helen’s funeral. He hasn’t changed much, really, though there is a sharpness to his aspect you’d never noticed when Helen was alive. An edge to his gaze; how can eyes so dark convey so much? Despite yourself, it sends a little thrill down your spine that you absolutely know you should not revel in.  

Maybe you haven’t seen him in person after Helen passed, but you’ve gazed at him plenty through Helen’s lens. There had been so many photographs of him in the collection of prints she’d left you. Nothing risqué, but the way he’d looked at her even through the camera had been nothing less than intimate.

There were times, late at night in your studio, when you’d pretended he’d been looking at you that way.

“How…have you been?” 

He offers a grim shadow of a smile and a shake of his head that you understand all too well. 

“Nice to be with someone you don't have to pretend with.”

“Yeah.”

You both stare down at the grave, meditating on your loss of this woman who touched you both so completely.

“Do you think she can hear us?” you ask, unable to lift your voice above a whisper.

There is a long pause from her widower, the man she left behind.

“Not really.” He lifts his face to the sun, eyes closed, as though maybe he can feel something of her presence. “But you should talk to her anyway. I might be wrong.”

You smile at that.

“Do you ever talk to her?”

“All the time,” he admits with a huff of self-deprecating laughter. “But then, I might just be losing my mind.”

“Ah well. That makes two of us then.”

You gently lay down the bouquet of Gerber daisies you'd brought for her. Helen’s favorite. If you ever have a garden, you will plant some for her. As it is, you have to buy them from the store. You remember the patch of daisies she’d cultivated in the garden of your childhood home. Their cheerful faces and soft petals. They had been your mother’s favorite too. When you were a girl Helen would sing to you and braid them in your thick hair. You couldn’t know at the time, how precious those perfect days had been.

The wave of sorrow hits you like a freight train, the weight of your loss a crushing force. You start to cry, hiding your face in your hands; you would prefer to do this alone, but you cannot stop it.

You feel an arm about your shoulders. It surprises you—John was never a touchy-feely man, never one for hugs, always preferring a wave or a handshake. Only for Helen, did he ever display any sort of affection. They had always been touching, holding hands or sitting hip to hip on the couch, his strong arm slung protectively around her shoulders. You didn’t want to say you’d been envious of that, but…perhaps you’d wondered, what it might be like, to be so cherished.

When he pulls you against him you only manage some token resistance. “I’ll mess up your suit.” You sound pitiful, even to you.

“I have an excellent dry cleaner.”

His dry wit had always amused you. This time, it breaks you, and you give in. He is solid as an oak, and as it turns out, his chest is an excellent place to cry on. Under the shelter of his chin you wring yourself dry, until it feels like you have nothing left inside you. His large hand rests lightly upon the back of your head, shielding you from the world. He is warm, and his cologne is subtle but heavenly. Sandalwood, maybe, and something spiced. Cardamom, perhaps. A hint of pepper.

You don’t particularly want to move, even though you absolutely should. Yet his hold on you has not loosened, and you tell yourself that maybe John Wick needed a hug just as badly as you did.

“People keep telling me that it gets easier, and I just want to punch them in the face,” you sniffle.

A huff of laughter escapes him. You feel it stir your hair on the top of your head. “Yeah. I get that.”

Finally you pull back, though not as far as you should. You’ve never actually been this close to him before, and you look at each other from a foot away. Sometimes proximity can shatter the illusion of someone’s attractiveness—but not this man. The impossible angle of his cheekbones, the soft scruff of his beard…is it just you, or does the edge in his gaze soften a little, when he looks at you? It makes your legs a little weak, and you kind of hate yourself for it.

It has nothing to do with you, stupid, you tell yourself. Where you and Helen weren’t exactly twins, you did resemble each other strongly. In profile, you’d been mistaken for her in public plenty of times before. If anything, it was probably unnerving for this poor man who missed his wife so much, to hold you, a sorry facsimile, in his arms. Out of pity, most likely.  

Helen had been the good sister. The upstanding one, the kind one. You? You can be such a twisted little thing.

“Sorry,” you sigh, noticing the smudge of makeup on his lapel.

He doesn’t even glance down, that intense gaze still fixed upon you. “Don’t be.”

Unbidden heat blooms from your cheeks to your toes, finding yourself the subject of that gaze. You’ve got to go, before you really embarrass yourself.

“I'll leave you alone. It was nice to see you, John.”

You turn to go, hugging yourself against the early spring chill. Why did you have to feel so bereft, without his arms around you? You take a few steps before he calls after you, “Y/n?”

You freeze in your tracks, a thrill jetting down your spine. “Yeah?” you dare, turning to half look over your shoulder.

“I…was thinking about going to Helen’s favorite restaurant tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Your heart beats double time in your chest, as you slowly turn to face him. You should say no. There’s a thousand reasons you should say no. This was your sister’s husband. It doesn’t matter that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and that he’s been kind to you, and that he’s looking at you like he might drown if you say no.

“I would like that,” you answer, and your heartbeat thundering in your ears sounds like the hammering of nails into your own coffin.

Part 2

[babyrdie]

I completely understand why people ignore the version of the myth in which Helen is Achilles' wife in Leuke, but there's a certain potential in imagining Patroclus, Achilles, and Helen interacting in Leuke!

Oh yeah, I think they'd totally be like that "I'm a knife" meme. It would be an interesting dynamic, to say the least. I can imagine a whole scene lol

Helen: Okay, I'm really tired of new husbands for now. When I was a kid, Theseus kidnapped me. And then later I married my husband Menelaus. And then I was in Troy with Paris, and when Paris died Deiphobus married me. And now this? I thought I'd be in Elysium, not here. I still don't even understand why you got a special island!

Patroclus: Well, I can temporarily sleep on the floor or something. It's not like the servant accommodations in Phthia were excellent, I can handle the floor. Achilles, don't give me that look, I'm obviously talking about accommodations before you intervene!

Achilles: You won't sleep on the floor.

Patroclus: Are you implying we should let Queen Helen sleep on the floor? I don't think Zeus would be happy with the news that his daughter was given to Leuke only to be treated like that.

Achilles: I didn't say anything about she sleeping on the floor, that obviously would be a stupid idea. I can sleep on the floor!

Patroclus: Even when we were camping in Troy you were always much more demanding than me. You would never happily sleep on the floor with the bed option.

Achilles: Well, I was the one who was raised in Pelion, not you! I spent years of my life sleeping in a cave in the middle of the forest, I guarantee you...

Helen: or… no one sleeps on the floor, everyone sleeps on the bed!

Patroclus: ...

Achilles: ...

Patroclus: Queen, none of us are small. How are we going to make a decent separation between you and us?

Helen: Just don't separate, I don't need you to put some pillows between us. I said I didn't want a new husband for now, I didn't say I would die if I had to be the big spoon with Achilles!

Achilles: What makes you think you'd be my big spoon??? You're tall, but not taller than me!

Helen: Menoitiades doesn't look like a little spoon. If he's not the little spoon, then it's you!

Achilles: I want you to know I can cuddle my man!

Helen: Okay, sorry sir I-can-cuddle-my-man. I understand you're the big spoon!

Achilles: I'm a knife!

Patroclus: He's usually the little spoon.

Achilles: My Prince???

Patroclus: I didn't spend years of my life having to get used to your fluffy hair in my face for you to deny me that recognition!

Helen: ....

Achilles: ...

Helen: Aristos Achaion...

Achilles: Hey, you talk like you're not Menelaus big spoon! A big man with a beard like him!

Helen: How do you know that???

Achilles: I didn't know, but now I have confirmation!

Helen: Menoitiades??? Did you guys bet people's sleeping position when you were in the army or what??? I thought you guys were focused on getting me back!

Patroclus: Queen, it's a bit predictable…

Helen: ...

Helen: He likes to be hugged, okay?! Agamemnon spoiled him while they were growing up! Their life was difficult! I'm sure if Agamemnon wasn't so focused on proving himself Clytemnestra would be his big spoon!

Achilles: Didn't she kill him? When I was in Elysium, before Leuke was created, Agamemnon complained a lot about it.

Helen: …

Patroclus: He was really irritated, Queen. You had to see him when Odysseus talked to him. Not dead, Odysseus was alive, by the way. He came because…you know what? It's a long story.

Helen: She was a really good sister, okay? Even Penelope, who was always discreet, loved her! ! When Penelope wasn't there, my sister was really patient with the way I made mistakes all the time while we were learning to weave! It's just that we're a bit of a different family!

Achilles: Hey, relax! It's fine, she was great sister!

Helen: Yeah, she was!

Patroclus: ...

Achilles: Honey, what is that look…

Patroclus: Queen, did you know that Achilles can weave too?

Helen: Wh...

Achilles: MAN!

Etc etc hehehe just them being silly

[pjo-tvs-version]

In honor of Annabeth Chase's birthday, I have written another fanfic. This one is based on @helpallthenamesaretakensblog 's post. It's another Annabeth POV because I just liked writing those. The title is from Taylor's Out of the Woods. Happy Reading!! :)

Your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn’t quite forget

“Plans?” Hazel asked. “Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting destroyed today.” I know that as a daughter of Athena I couldn't give in to the pleasure of ignorance. To escape from the harsh reality we were in. But Hazel saying the obvious out loud was definitely not helping my nerves.

Percy shook himself out of his daze. “You’re right. Annabeth…did you zero in on that spot from your bronze map?” Panic rose in me. I willed my eyes to convey this one message in bold: Remember what I said, buddy. Keep that dream to yourself. I have to answer the question nonetheless so I try to give as little information as possible. “Yes,” I say carefully. “It’s on the Tiber River. I think I can find it, but I should—” 

“Take me along,” Percy finished. What was seriously wrong with him today? I had tried to cajole him by giving so many logical reasons about why exactly he shouldn't be there. But knowing his irritating, endearing and loyal nature, he wasn't going to learn to accept this point easily. As bothersome it was, a small part of my heart was fluttering with happiness at his immense concern for me. Even though the odds of me surviving were… No Annabeth I chide myself, you will not think about this. So I decide to of course use the classic stare that overcomes any problem.

 “Yeah, you’re right.” I replied sprinkled with a deathly glare. “That’s not—” “Safe,” he supplied. “One demigod walking through Rome alone. I’ll go with you as far as the Tiber. We can use that letter of introduction, hopefully meet the river god Tiberinus. Maybe he can give you some help or advice. Then you can go on alone from there.”  Percy was making this impossible. I was finding it inevitable to leave everyone on Argo II as I went on to my death solo quest, but parting from Percy was going to be the hardest.

We had a silent staring contest, but Percy didn’t back down. Staring contests were better ways of dealing with a disagreement then words. It was far more expressive and impactful. But Percy didn't back down. As sweet as he was, his stubborn nature wasn't all that pleasing at times. He was making it hard to say goodbye. He was endangering his life once again for me when it wasn't required because the odds of me surviving were in negative. But as I stared into his eyes, there was determination. The same one I saw 3 years ago in Mt. Saint Helens. The same look on his face before I kissed him. I felt my gaze flicker.

“Fine,” I muttered, accepting defeat. “Hazel, now that we’re in Rome, do you think you can pinpoint Nico’s location?” Hazel blinked, as if coming out of a trance from watching our glare competition. “Um…hopefully, if I get close enough. I’ll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with me?” I could practically see Frank beaming. “Absolutely.” “And, uh…Leo,” Hazel added. “It might be a good idea if you came along too. The fish-centaurs said we’d need your help with something mechanical.” “Yeah,” Leo said, “no problem.” Frank’s smile turned into something more like Chrysaor’s mask. I was pretty good at reading people’s emotions so I could always feel the tension among those three. Ever since they’d gotten knocked into the Atlantic, they hadn’t acted quite the same. It wasn’t just the two guys competing for Hazel. It was like the three of them were locked together, acting out some kind of murder mystery, but they hadn’t yet discovered which of them was the victim. 

Piper drew her knife and set it on the rail. “Jason and I can watch the ship for now. I’ll see what Katoptris can show me. But, Hazel, if you guys get a fix on Nico’s location, don’t go in there by yourselves. Come back and get us. It’ll take all of us to fight the giants.” I knew she wasn't stating the most obvious fact that we had no god on our side so this was kind of a one sided battle. As much I craved for victory, I couldn’t help but go through the never ending list of reasons why we were never winning this battle. Think positive Annabeth, a little optimism couldn’t hurt right?

“Good idea,” Percy said. “How about we plan to meet back here at…what?” “Three this afternoon?” Jason suggested. “That’s probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris message.” The others nodded in agreement, but I could feel their gaze fall on me. At once I felt guilty of not telling them the whole creepy truth. That I would die most probably from facing the ultimate fear of every Athena child. I would have to face Ar-. Let’s not think about it.

I would be on a different schedule. I might be back at three, or much later, or never. But I would do whatever I can to find the Athena Parthenos. Coach Hedge grunted. “That’ll give me time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Percy, Annabeth…I don’t like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over.” Unwillingly, I felt myself flush. It was just one night of privacy in which we unfortunately just slept ( and had a few good kisses). However, the idea of getting grounded when we were about to risk their lives was so ridiculous, that I couldn’t help smiling. “We’ll be back soon,” Percy promised. I try to look at each of them and shake the dreadful feeling that this will be the last time I would see them together.

I headed down to my cabin to check and recheck my shoulder bag. Ambrosia, nectar, flashlight, matchboxes (it was something my father suggested), 2 bottles of water, a sandwich, drachmas and then came across a picture of me and Percy. It was a photo of us after we had started dating, one which Sally clicked. 

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. From the rhythm, I knew who the intruder/visitor was. “May I come in Wise Girl?” “ No you can’t” I reply, laced with sarcasm. The handle clicks open and I see Percy fidget more than usual with his hands. “I wanted to check on you” there was a pause and then, “wanted to make sure you were alright and ready for…” He didn’t complete his sentence. 

“Yeah, yeah I'm ready. I have checked, rechecked and checked again.” I replied. “You do remember to keep Ambrosia and Nectar right? And drachmas and first aid and-” “Yeah Seaweed Brain! Chill.” He was so concerned and anxious that I felt bad for him. But he needed to understand that he had to let go as there was no option B. If he went then Arch- no I would call her a Web-Weaving Wannabe. So if he went with me, she would most probably use him as bait and make my emotions go haywire and then I would make mistakes, fail to save Greece, fail to save the world-“Okay cool. So are you ready to go? The others are about to leave.” Percy says, interrupting my thoughts. “Yeah, let's go” I replied. 

“Before that I wanted to give you something.” Percy adds with a note of jitteriness. His fidgeting had increased. So of course my anxiety being directly proportional started going overboard too. He reached behind his neck, for his camp necklace. It puzzled me. Why is he taking off his camp necklace? And then it came crashing on me. 5 years ago, the duel on the beach with Ares, the good old days where their chances of dying were lesser. Percy was giving his necklace to me? As I was going to my death battle the same way Percy did 5 years ago? He was doing the same thing I did. 

A wave of euphoria washed over me. My heart felt like it could burst with happiness. He really was such a Seaweed Brain.  My cute Seaweed Brain who couldn't stand seeing anyone in trouble. He took a few steps forward and I could see the matching blush on his cheeks. He tied it around my neck and I couldn’t help but beam. “Wear this, for good luck. It saved my life when I dueled with Ares and everything after that too. I know it’ll help you too. "he said as he finished the knot. He then held my hand a little tighter than usual. I couldn't help but hug him fiercely. 

I took in his inky mess of hair, the sadness in his sea green eyes which mirrored the stormy sea, the smile that played on his lips for a moment and  then dissolved like a wave on the shore. I couldn’t help but lean for a kiss. A kiss that lingered, a desperate attempt to hold onto what was slipping away. A goodbye kiss, laced with unspoken tears. A heartbreaking kiss, a silent plea for a different ending. “I’ll make it out. You’ll be alright.” I try to reassure him. He doesn't reply but everything he wanted to say was there in his eyes.

____________________________________________

As, me and Percy climbed down the cliff, I concentrated on the challenges at hand: keeping my footing, avoiding rockslides that would alert the Empousai to their presence and of course making sure we didn’t plummet to our deaths. About halfway down the precipice, I got breathless. My legs were wobbling badly,  my ankle screaming in protest with each step.

Tartarus was sapping my non-existent strength left. ‘Stop, okay? Just a quick break.’ Percy looked beyond worried. I felt so guilty about burdening him even more. We sat together on a ledge next to a roaring fiery waterfall. The splinters were shooting, threatening to burn us, the sulphurous was becoming suffocating with each breath. My ankle was beyond pain. A wave of nausea washed over me as the cramping pain intensified.

Percy put his arm around me, and I couldn’t help but lean against him, shaking from exhaustion. A hug like a warm blanket, safe and secure. It was a comforting embrace that melted all my worries even if it was for a few seconds. I pulled away from the momentary solace to get a look at him.

He wasn’t much better. He buried his face in my chest, his dark curls cascading down his arms in a curtain of pain. He fell into this dreadful place because of me. To save me, to not leave me alone. We would find a way out of Tartarus. We had to. 

Subconsciously my fingers traced a red coral necklace, the one Percy gave me. At once I felt Percy’s camp necklace. I removed my other hand with which I was holding Percy close. As I undid the knot, Percy looked at my slightly puzzled and there pain etched on his pain even as he tried to hide it. As I started to try my necklace around his neck, he stopped me. “Keep it, you need to make it out of here.” 

“WE need to make it out of here, especially you! So let’s do one thing since we both need good luck, let me give you mine.”  I looped the necklace over his head and let it rest against his skin. 

His lips were parched and his skin felt warm against mine. The firewater was churning in my stomach. “Promise that we’ll have each other's backs. We’ll make it out.” Percy declared with determination. I couldn’t help a melancholic smile. “I pinky promise. That’s the more solemn vow there is.” I add. A short, bitter laugh escapes his lips before our lips meet. My hands were in his jet black hair and our eyelids shut tight to shield us from the awful surroundings. We will make it out of here, I try to tell myself. Even if I don’t Percy will and there is no option B.

Also on AO3 here

So that's it! Hope you all liked it. As always, positive criticism is highly appreciated. Thank you Help for the lovely head cannon. Also there is this one line in the from the movie Wonka which Willy tells Noodle. Let's see if you can find it 👀

[ana-cantskywalker]

I hesitate to bring this up because there are so many people going through so so much worse right now ( I have been so burdened for people in damage from Helene, even more than I normally am for people in disasters), but I could really use some prayers from my friends.

Going to keep it short so I dont just trauma dump all over your feed, but I feel like some explanation is necessary.

Me and my sister started helping a friend with her small business in the Spring. We got more and more involved, and really saw an opportunity, but we didn't pray or seek wisdom before we jumped in head first, and its coming back around to bite us.

We had a big event last month, and it was horrible, our friend started getting ridiculously upset with us for not dedicating enough time to the business (when we had not only finished all of our projects but also some of hers) and was just generally constantly stressing us out over things. She's just generally really difficult to work with, and then refuses to ever be in the wrong even when she is. Since then we've prayed about what to do, and the Lord gave us some guidance. We knew we couldn't keep being her friend and working so close quarters with her, so we came up with a solution. We were going to start are own business that was similar but would not tap into her market at all and therefore not create competition, and still help her with hers when she needed it, but less than before so we could continue to be friends but not constantly bite each others head off.

We sat down last Wednesday and talked with her about it, and she was fine with it, said it was a good idea even. Well, over the weekend she has gone crazy (I hate to say it but idk how else to describe it) She pitched a fit over my sister not wanting her to be on the patent for a design my sister made from start to finish (she has no reason to be on it, and if we ever give someone permission to use the design for royalties it would mean she gets 50% because technically she would own half) and then today she called us and needed us to meet her with one of the things we had at the house that was sold so she could ship it, but she called 45 minutes before we would have had to leave. We were both busy and couldn't do it and she want ballistic, called us several times, ended up calling my mom multiple times and my mom ended up meeting her somewhere closer so she would leave us alone. She has taken this tiny issue that she caused by not communicating and made us to be the bad guys, told us it was 'unacceptable' and is threatening to end the friendship because my sister wouldn't call her on the drive down to the meeting she had to go to because she was riding with someone else (and its kind of rude to argue with you 'friend' on the phone while someone is driving you somewhere). She is acting like we are being horrible people for not being able to work it out the way she wanted tonight.

Looking back we can see that its always been like this, we've always had to bend over backwards for her while she won't inconvenience herself for us, but its hard to deal with now.

I feel like I am rambling a lot and probably venting too much too people online but I needed to tell someone because the whole ordeal has me really stressed out, and I know that there are people on here who will pray for me. My sister hasn't been sleeping well and I am getting ulcers and I think its because of how much she has stressed us out over the past month and a half an I am sick of it

All this to say, please keep us in your prayers, I'm not trying to gain sympathy or anything, I just really need the Lord to have his hand in this and I would appreciate prayers.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 25/? Word count: 3369 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 23. My Team

Matilde yawned and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She looked around; was it the Spa Grand Prix if it didn't rain at least one day? The car in front of her moved, driving for five metres, making Matilde join the queue. It was the first time in three weeks she had driven her car. It was the first time in three weeks she had set a foot outside of the UK. It was the first time in three weeks she went back to a race.

"Do you think I can pass them?" Matilde asked her dad and looked at him, he sat next to her.

Living three weeks with a parent after ten years, was odd, somewhat annoying, but also trusted and fun. Matilde and her father were best friends. However, Matilde was looking forward to living by herself again. The summer break was about to start and her entire family would celebrate it in Italy, and Matilde and her father were on their way to Italy now. With just an extra stop, they would pass Spa-Francorchamps, so it wasn't even a question to visit the track during the Grand Prix. Besides, Matilde's father hadn't visited Spa-Francorchamps before, or even visited a race with Matilde as Ferrari's team principal.

"Hmm," her father hummed. "You are Ferrari's team principal."

"Yeah," she sighed.

"But it doesn't mean you can break the rules."

"I know," she agreed. "But at this point, we will get there when the race has already begun." Perhaps, she exaggerated, it was still eight o'clock in the morning, but it was busy and they weren't even close to the track. "And technically, I'm not working, so I don't know if I can follow those rules."

Matilde didn't dare to act like she was the team principal now, so she waited and stayed in the queue.

Her father was looking at his phone. "Thomas can claim tickets for speed skating in Stavanger, Helen will join as well. Do you want to come too?"

"When is it?"

"First of December."

She blew up her cheeks. "It's the week after the last race," she mumbled. "Uhm..." She blinked a couple of times, trying to think of an event she possibly had that weekend. "It's the world cup, right?"

"Ja. We can claim a ticket for you and otherwise we can sell it, or someone else will come with us," he mentioned and said to his friend that he needed to claim a ticket for himself and Matilde. "It will be a standing ticket, though."

"Perfectly fine," Matilde replied. "That will be fun. I will ask Galileo tomorrow if there's something planned, but I don't believe so." When the words left her mouth, she realised something. "Gosh, I'm dependending on my assistant." A disgusted look washed over her face. "This is something I did not want."

A laugh rolled over her dad's lips. "Times are changing."

"Awful." Matilde ran her hand through her hair. She looked in the mirror and a car that was being escorted by some policemen on motorbikes passed them. "If you need help with looking for accommodation or other things, just let me know. Happy to help."

"We will probably go to the same B&B."

"Hmm-hmm, and 'accidentally' brunch in the same hotel as the speed skaters."

They both began to laugh. Last year, also during the speed skating world cup in Stavanger, they had a quick coffee break in a hotel when driving to the ice hall and they bumped into every delegation. It was by accident, they had no idea that it was the hotel that all the speed skaters were staying in, which made things more fun. Every time they went to a speed skating world cup, something ordinary would happen to them. And they visited the world cup almost every year.

"It was a success," her father added. "We're just gonna do it again. They don't know we're there for them. We are just random tourists, we don't know anything about speed skating, everyone is happy."

A shock went through Matilde's body when someone was standing next to her; it was a police officer. He couldn't help, but laugh. Matilde awkwardly smiled and rolled down the window of her car.

"Bonjour, madame," the police agent said.

"Bonjour, hello," Matilde replied.

"Sorry to scare you, I thought you knew I was here," the man apologised. "What are we doing here?"

Matilde's face straightened, the stress flickering through her eyes. Did she do something wrong?

"When passing, I noticed the sticker." He pointed at the special F1 parking sticker on the front window. "And you are aware that you don't have to wait here with a sticker like that?"

An even more uncomfortable smile came on Matilde's face. "Oh. I didn't want to break the traffic rules by just doing something."

"I see. But as team principal you can call us and then we will escort you to the track."

"I know, but I'm not really working."

He nodded impressively, like Matilde was the first one to follow the rules. "Where do you need to go?"

"The paddock."

"Put on your blinkers and follow me." The police officer put down the visor of his helmet and drove away on his motor.

Matilde started the engine of her motor and left the queue, checking if it was safe to go. Her dad quickly put on the emergency blinkers. They passed the long queue.

"Don't be modest," her father smirked.

Matilde's cheek started to heat up. "How am I supposed to know this?" She sighed. "And we can't go casually to that hotel for a coffee between the speed skaters. They will recognise me straight away."

"Oh, my god," her father fangirled.

"Dad."

Laughter filled the car.

After ten minutes, they arrived at the parking of the paddock. Matilde parked the car and stepped out of the car, stretching her limbs. She looked at her father, who was taking in the surroundings. They weren't even in the paddock, but the impressive look on his face made Matilde smile. Matilde walked to the boot and opened it, grabbing her Ferrari jacket and purse.

"Do you want a jacket?" She asked her dad and put on the red jacket.

He was shaking his head. "I will take the cap."

She grabbed her paddock pass and put it over her head. She grabbed the second, personalised pass from her purse and handed it over to her dad. He looked at it, his eyes slightly widened and he widely smiled. They looked at each other and shared a proud moment.

They walked towards the gate. A few photographers noticed Matilde's unannounced appearance and made sure they had her on camera. Matilde's dad walked a few metres behind Matilde, taking some photos from her.

"Mati," he called her.

Matilde turned around and noticed how her dad made photos of her. She felt slightly embarrassed when she looked around and saw people looking at her, but she made sure she looked nice in the photos anyway. Then her dad wanted a photo of himself in front of the gate, and a selfie. A photographer walked up to them and proposed to take a photo of the father-daughter. Other people looked at them catching the proud father moment and they caught the moment with their camera as well. Little did they know that the moment went viral later that morning.

* * *

It was time for the pre race briefing. Everyone who needed to be at the briefing, made sure they were on time in the meeting room. The atmosphere was a mis of anticipation and focus as team members settled into their seats, each occupied with their own preparations. The room buzzed with quiet conversations.

As the designated time for the briefing approached, a collective hush fell over the room. Narciso wasn't present yet. Charles looked at the notes he had made yesterday and then looked around the room. Carlos was drinking a cup of coffee and talking to his engineers. Someone from the team made the decision to postpone the briefing by five minutes, since Narciso wasn't there yet.

Everybody was happy it was the last race before the summer break, but also excited to do one more race; Spa-Francorchamps meant a lot to some people, and others just liked the track.

And most were just happy that it was Narciso's last race.

A soft knock on the door made people look at the entrance of the door, expecting Narciso to open the door. However, Narciso wouldn't just knock, he would open the door without an excuse. The door slowly opened and a head popped around the corner.

"Good morning," Matilde smiled and looked around. It seemed like the briefing hadn't started yet, and Narciso was missing. She opened the door fully and stepped inside the room. "Hey," she said again.

Smiles appeared on many faces. "Matilde," a few happily said.

The room immediately brightened as Matilde entered. Her unexpected presence brought a wave of relief and comfort to the team members who had been silently dreading Narciso's briefings. Charles couldn't help, but offer her a warm smile. A sense of relief washed over his body when he saw her.

"We did not expect to see you here," Carlos exclaimed, his expression turning from surprise to genuine delight.

"I was in the neighbourhood," she casually replied. "And I couldn't just stay away because I miss this," she quickly added. Laughter filled the room. "Am I disturbing?" Her eyes were scanning the room.

"No, no, not at all," someone said. "Are you leading this briefing?" Even though it was a joke, hope flickered through their eyes.

Matilde shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. It's still Narciso's day," she mentioned.

"He's fashionably late," another engineer said.

"As always," someone else added.

"Probably appendicitis," Matilde jokingly said. Her eyes met Charles', and she offered a subtle nod, acknowledging the punctuality issue. He quickly raised his eyebrows slightly, sharing he understood her joke. "But," Matilde said to everyone. "Now that you have to wait, how is everything going? How are you doing?" She sat down on her chair, as head of the table. Narciso wasn't present yet, so she could sit there while he wasn't there.

The room buzzed with renewed energy, the tension that had been building prior to Matilde's arrival dissipating. Matilde listened carefully to everything that was being said. Team members shifted in their seats, suddenly more at ease. It was as if Matilde's presence alone had the power to transform the dynamics of the room.

"If we knew you were coming, we would have gotten something for you," a manager said.

"Please, it's fine," Matilde replied like it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't a big deal to her. The fact that she saw how the dynamics changed within seconds of her arrival, made her realise what was going on within the team. And they thought of her.

"But how are you doing?"

"I'm good, as good as recovered. Glad I can finally leave the UK - not that I don't like the UK, but being stuck there is something else," she said.

Charles couldn't stop looking at her while she was talking to everyone. She genuinely was interested and she made sure everyone was heard. The way she listened to everybody was just delightful. She smiled warmly, nodded every now and then, when she was thinking, her eyes slightly narrowed, she played with her hair - that was blown out again - and she just showed positivity. She felt like coming home.

Then Narciso entered the room, he was surprised to see Matilde sitting on his seat. "Matilde," he replied, perplexed. "I didn't expect you here." He placed his stuff on the desk, like it was a sign for her to move out of his way.

"Narciso," Matilde replied. "Good to see you, too," she said and got up. "I came here to say hi to my team. And there was time for it," she smiled friendly.

"We were just about to start the briefing," Narciso said, his tone indicating a mix of annoyance and impatience.

Matilde passive aggressively stepped aside, giving Narciso his space. It became difficult for her to stay professional, as she didn't like the man. The way he treated her at the office during board meetings...Perhaps he couldn't handle it that a young woman is the team principal instead of a white man in a suit; him. "I am aware," she replied, maintaining her calm demeanour.

Narciso raised an eyebrow, seemingly unamused. He sat down and prepared himself for the meeting by organising the documents and opening his laptop. "We are about to begin. Kindly excuse yourself from this meeting." He looked over his shoulder, not wanting to look at Matilde.

Her eyebrows raised, that was direct. She looked around, reading the reactions of her team; they all looked surprised, offended and disbelieving. She threw her hands up in the air. "I wasn't planning on staying. It's your domain today, after all. Your day, your Grand Prix," she responded. She noticed how a few faces dropped to disappointment. How badly she wanted to be there for everyone today, she knew she couldn't do it and Narciso was in charge. "Good luck, guys. Don't let anybody fool you." And with that being said, she left the room again.

As the meeting began, it was confirmed to everybody what the massive contrast between the two figures in charge were. Matilde's approachability and genuine interest in her team stood in stark contrast to Narciso's more authoritative and sometimes abrasive style. And the team seemed to respond differently to the two leaders.

While every team was in a briefing, Matilde walked through the paddock to find her dad, who was just strolling around in the calmth. The guests would show up later, the teams from F3 and F2 were preparing for their races. And of course, reporters were eager to get a glimpse of Matilde or wanted to get a quote from her. However, Matilde told them kindly she was not here for photographs or any interviews. She found her dad and they walked back to the Ferrari facility for some coffee.

"And? How did they react?"

A smile covered Matilde's face. "Surprised, but happy, I think," she responded. "It was good to see them. I missed it."

"That is good to hear," he reacted surprised. "Never thought you would say it, though, after everything that has happened."

"Well, we're in a different situation now. I'm not the annoying team principal, I'm me. Chances are so big that things are changing in a couple of weeks again," she observed.

The morning slowly passed and the news of Matilde being present spread fast. Multiple team principles came by to say hello and Matilde went to visit some people. She went to Mercedes, to thank Toto for his help. She went to Red Bull to quickly say hi to Christian and Max. Kevin was ahead of her to say hi, as he had seen the photos on social media already. And she just enjoyed being around the track again, enjoyed this event with her dad and stayed in the shadows so the attention wouldn't differ from the drivers and the teams.

When the race was about to start, Matilde and her dad took a seat in the back of the garage. Matilde was aware this was probably the only time she and her dad could watch the race together at the track - unless things change, but Matilde was almost completely sure things wouldn't change.

To many surprises, Ferrari recovered from the bad weekend. After the start, they climbed to the top three. For a moment, it was undecided who would win as Max, Charles and Carlos were in a tight fight for first place. The dynamics within the teams drastically changed and people picked it up.

Matilde liked to watch the race from the back of the garage as she could oversee each and everyone. She observed her people. The way the mechanics smoothly moved during the pitstops, how everyone was communicating clearly. Things were different before. However, Narciso didn't like how it was going; his body language showed he was not amused. The team was the leader themselves instead of Narciso managing them. And she sensed some stubbornness during some discussions over the radio; different from the stubbornness Matilde knew from them.

The team was in a good spirit and once again, they were doing things without Narciso's consent. It was an unspoken statement from the team towards the board; they were running the team like Matilde taught them and how she would lead the team. And her presence at the back of the garage made a huge difference; they were racing for her, to make her proud and satisfied.

And fans were excited as well, since there was a fight going on. Not only in the front, but also in the back. The Orange Army liked the fire that was thrown on the track and its battles, the Tifosi found themselves hungry for a win and other fanbases just enjoyed the excitement.

Max unleashed a masterclass in precision and determination. His car danced through the famous Eau Rouge and Raidillon with an elegance that belied the sheer power beneath.

Charles painted his own masterpiece on the asphalt canvas. The Ferrari Roared through the challenging corners of Spa, guided by Leclerc's deft hands.

Carlos proved his mettle on the legendary track. His racecraft was a symphony of calculated aggression and skillful navigation.

The battle for the win raged on, each turn and straight adding a new chapter to the sage. Max' Red Bull soared across the finish line first, claiming the victory. Charles claimed the fastest lap by finishing a few seconds behind Max. Carlos completed the trio, securing a double podium for Ferrari.

Even though Matilde wasn't particularly waiting to celebrate the double podium around the podium, her mechanics went to the back of the garage to personally pick her and her dad up. Together, they walked to the podium. It was busy.

"It's good to see you back," Abele said to Matilde, he was the mechanic who stood up for her during the night shift after Miami and the disaster.

A smile came on Matilde's face. "Thanks, it's good to be back, to see all of you again. Well done today!"

He smiled and introduced himself to Matilde's father before returning back to the conversation with Matilde. "What does your summer break look like?"

"With my family in Italy. It doesn't feel right that I have summer break, though. I just did barely anything for three weeks straight."

"Very nice. I'm going to Portugal with my girlfriend. Finally some time off," he said. "And you shouldn't feel guilty about the summer break. You recovered, you couldn't prevent it, so you need to rest without the stress of us."

"I know, but it feels off," she breathed.

"We missed you during the night shifts, though."

"Two weeks. Then I'm there to annoy you again," she said. He smirked. "Enjoy your holiday, you deserve it."

They watched how the top three cars arrived under the podium. Yet again, Matilde didn't want to steal away the attention from Narciso. It was his double podium, he sat on that chair and led the team through the entire weekend. Besides, Matilde felt uncomfortable enough to stand between her team while she wasn't working. She looked to her left where Red Bull was celebrating their victory. Then she looked in front of her where Carlos was meeting his team. And finally, she looked at her right where Charles was meeting with his team.

"Incredible to see this in real life," Matilde's dad said to Matilde. "On TV you only see the emotions, now you witness it." There was a smile resting on his face, a precious smile.

Matilde looked at him and smiled as well. "I know, right." Her eyes met Charles' eyes; she clapped proudly, smiled widely and winked. Charles' smile was bright and grateful. Then she looked at Carlos; he didn't see her, but she was also proud of him.

It had been a while since she felt this kind of happiness, euphory. She hoped this spirit would stay, but she was aware things could change easily.

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u

[jarondont]

I was kinda sad Pisistratus didn’t get a bit of a mention but yk I know it’s loosely based off the odyssey But where is my boy!! 😔😔😔🙏🙏

Wait what if Jorge has a cut song or draft with Telemachus and Pisistratus

Honestly, I was hoping for that ... bc in the old version of We'll Be Fine, the lyric was: "'Cause I got in a fight, sailed to an island, when I've never left home shores" so I was like OMG OMG OMG NESTOR? MENELAUS? HELEN? PISISTRATUS???

(also, Telestratus ftw)

But alas...

I get why he probably didn't include it tho. That would be a LOT to fit into one song especially since Nestor yaps so much. Plus, EPIC focuses mainly on Ody rather than Tele, so it would be kinda ... too much, if that makes sense.

But OMG??? IF HE DOES HAVE A CUT SONG LIKE THAT, I NEED IT RIGHT NOW

[blood-mocha-latte]

so i made a quiz a minute back and there was a question about my guinea pigs and a lot of people. followed up on that and wanted to know more lmao. AND if you've been here for even .5 seconds you are aware that i. love talking about my pets so let's get into it

i. Perdita Sue

name: -- perdita for 101 Dalmations (since she's black and white) -- sue for Sue Hendrickson (a world renowned paleontologist)

fun fact: as stated by the quiz she fucking. loves her water bottle. when she was a baby we were worried she had a blockage in her throat because she kept slamming it back against the wall of the hutch REALLY LOUDLY and her sister didn't do that. so we took her to the vet. nothings wrong. maybe it was just a thing when she was a baby no. no she just really fucking loves her water bottle and likes making it really loud

worst experience: she cut her paw open on a piece of hay when she was about a year and a half old and was bleeding SO FUCKING MUCH i almost missed a class final to stay home with her. she was fine lol

best experience: she likes to shake hands. i have a photo of this somewhere. if you put your hand down in the hutch she'll run over and put both her paws in your palm so you can "shake" them it's the funniest fucking thing

ii. Mei Rosalind

name: -- mei for my fiancee's middle name lmao (lenora-mei) -- rosalind for Rosalind Franklin (biochemist who discovered the structure of dna)

fun fact: again as in the quiz, she likes sunbeams. a whole fuckin' lot. like, too much. it was about noon and i walked into the room they're in and she was on her back. lil paws in the air. and i thought she was Fucking Dead but no. she was just sunbathing

worst experience: she once sneezed in my mouth and i thought i was gonna die

best experience: when i was studying for my organic chem final she slept on my desk the whole time and just generally kept me from Flipping The Desk and giving up lmao

iii. Meg Helen

name: -- meg for meg jay (clinical psychologist on adult development) -- helen for. helen keller. bc she's blind

fun fact: the only guinea pig we got from a pet store, who we weren't actually going to get. but she was curled up in the corner of a too small cage and was obviously miserable, so we ended up biting the bullet and adopting her. took her to the vet, vet told us she is The Most Blind Animal she has ever had the pleasure of meeting. take that as you will

worst experience: we got her when she was just a little over a week old and she had to be quarantined from the others. we ended up having to switch off and sit with her at night because she'd cry the whole time and she has the saddest fucking wheek

best experience: she has the croakiest voice of all time. we're pretty sure it's the same genetic inbreeding problems that made her blind, but it doesn't hurt her and it sounds Hilarious. when she finally got out of her quarantine hutch and to her real one (which is 45 feet squared lmao) she didn't stop popcorning and squeaking for fifteen minutes. i cried my fiancee cried i took a video and sent it to my parents and they cried it was a day

iv. Piper Florence

name: -- piper for the pied piper of war because she's the leader and the others follow after her like she's the. the pied piper -- florence for florence nightingale because again if you've been here for more than .5 seconds you know that i am a. healthcare bitch

fun fact: once jumped out of the hutch and then just stood in the middle of the room because she didn't know where to go. is Best Friends with meg and shows her where everything is in the hutch when we have to change it/replace objects. she does not like sue and ignores her. just doesn't like her there's nothing to be done

worst experience: we thought she had ovarian cancer about a year ago because she was lethargic/sick/swollen etc for a long period of time. tracking her poop what she ate all of that etc etc. turns out that she had a cyst which was still a fucking nightmare, but hey at least it wasn't cancer

best experience: when my fiancée got really sick a few years back piper would just sit on her chest and purr. it was cute and needed and she's fuckin BEEN there man she's basically our dog

anyways that's it. congratulations if you got through it all lmao. i also have four cats (i am. not good at fostering) and a dog so maybe i'll make a post about them idk. ok bye

[lovinbarzal]

PERFECT PT. 2 | J. HUGHES

jack hughes x fem! zegras sister! reader

summary: trevor finds out.

warnings: heated making out, angry twin brother z

a/n enjoy <3 ( the gif represents jack at the end lol )

masterlist part one

——————————————————————————

1 year later

"I need you gone again." Trevor blurted. The two were sitting in the living room watching a movie.

"Lemme guess, Jack's coming?" Y/n turned to her brother with a knowing look.

"Yeah and this time Griffin isn't here to say that I can't kick you out." Trevor held a proud smile. Y/n pulled her phone out and tapped on it for a moment before bringing it to her ear.

"He's trying to kick me out again." She said with a smirk before putting the phone on speaker.

"Trev, you can't kick her out." Griffin said as Trevor's face fell.

"Fine." He grumbled before crossing his arms and sinking into his side of the couch.

"Love you, Griff." Y/n hung up and putting her phone away.

"But he is still off limits." Trevor said.

Y/n was actually talking excited to see Jack. They had been secretly texting and calling. Trevor knew she had known that she was talking to someone but what he didn't know was that it was his best friend.

"Y/n was supposed to be going with Griffin to Cancun for break but she ended up stay so I'm sorry for my weird-ass sister." Trevor said from the drivers seat.

"Dude, she isn't even that bad." Jack defended sounding a bit standoffish. Trevor sent him a look, "I mean, like she's your sister."

"Yeah and she's a bitch. She's been bitchyer since she started talking to some guy. She won't even tell me or Griff who he is." Trevor ranted about his sister's mysterious guy.

He looked out the window in attempt to hide his smile. He knew who the mystery guy was. It was him.

Y/n laughed loudly as Jack said something stupid.

"I'm telling you! She was not real!" The two were dying of laughter.

"Helen Keller was real, J. She literally has a book." Y/n explained. The two were on the couch cuddling. Trevor had went out to pick up their dinner so the two were alone.

"Exactly! How the hell did she write a book if she couldn't see of right!" He defended.

"You're an idiot." Y/n said with a laugh.

"But I'm your idiot." He said leaning down for a kiss. Things quickly got heated.

The two were so in the moment that they didn't hear the door unlock.

Trevor dropped the pizza that he had been holding and screamed. Y/n and Jacked jumped away from each other.

"No! No! No! No!" Trevor said from the doorway as his face turned red.

"I told you that my little sister was off limits!" Trevor yelled at Jack before turning to Y/n, "And we made a pact that friends were off limits!"

Trevor was furious. He basically had steam fuming from his ears.

"Trev." Y/n reached out but Trevor pulled away and turned back to Jack. He shoved Jack against the wall making Y/n yelp.

"You do anything with her?" Trevor yelled.

"No! Dude, I would never! That's your little sister man." Jack exclaimed with wide eyes. Y/n was his twin sister but Y/n was younger than him by 5 minutes making her his little sister.

"Exactly. My little sister." Trevor said with disappointment. He let Jack go before turning to Y/n. His face was filled with a mix of betrayal and disappointment.

"Trev." Y/n attempted again.

"No." Trevor shook his head before walking out the door.

"Shit." Jack breathed out as tears slipped from Y/n's eyes.

"Are you ok?" Y/n asked turning to Jack. He could hear the heartbreak in her voice.

"I'm fine. Are you ok?" She nodded unsurly.

"Come here." He opened up his arms for her. The two stood their just hugging as Y/n cried. She just betrayed the most important person in her life.

Yeah, she had Griffin and her parents but Trevor was her TWIN brother. The two always argued but they always made up. This time she didn't know. She didn't if they would be able to come back after this.

It was around 1 am when Trevor got back home and Y/n was awake. Jack had fallen asleep on the couch. She couldn't sleep not until she was sure that he was okay.

"Hey." She said softly walking up to Trevor.

"Hi." He replied. The both of them couldn't look each other in the eye.

"I'm sorry." The two said at the same time making them finally look up at each other.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn't have reacted that way. I went over bored. I should've just listened and heard you out." Trevor ranted but Y/n just pulled him into a hug.

"I should've told you." She said as he hugged back.

"It's ok. We're ok." Trevor said as they let go.

"Just if breaks your heart, it will hurt me to have punch him in the face since he is my best friend." Trevor smiled maming Y/n smile.

The next morning went by smoothly. Jack was confused. Everything seemed to be normal. Only thing was that Y/n had kissed him in the kitchen with Trevor sitting at the table.

"No PDA in front of me especially while I eat my breakfast." Trevor complained. Jack furrowed his brows.

"We still on for the rink later?" Trevor asked Jack with a smile.

"Yeah?" Jack answered but came out as more of a question.

"He knows. It's ok." Y/n said as Jack nodded slowly.

"You're not mad?" Jack questioned looking to Trevor.

Trevor shook his head, "But break her heart and I'll fucking kill you."

Trevor smiled as he said it. Y/n threw an empty water bottle at Trevor.

"Shut up, fartface." Y/n remarked which led to an argument between the twins.

Jack smiled as he watched the two argue.

Everything was good. Everything was perfect and so was she.

[jungle-angel]

A Pair Of Lovebirds In Paradise (Calvin Evans x Reader)

Summary: You and Cal are excited beyond words to finally have some time to yourselves after your wedding

Notes: Sequel to "Wedding Day"

Warnings: SMUT 18+ only, some very kinky bedroom shenanigans, breeding kink, etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse

"You sure Six-Thirty will be fine with you guys?" Calvin asked, the two of you making your way into the airport with his parents, sister and niece.

"Calvin that dog is attached to your father like a pig's wart," his mother told him. "I'm almost certain he'll be fine."

"Almost certain?" Cal asked.

"He'll be fine Cal," Henry said with a wave of his hand. "What's the worst that could happen? He leaps the fence and leaves a dead bird on Mrs. Dillard's porch."

That little comment had earned Henry a hard smack on the shoulder from Pat. It was no secret that Mrs. Dillard was a horrible gossip, nosy beyond all human reasoning and who had incurred the unfortunate wrath or Father McDowell's wife, Helen. Calvin could almost picture the whole scene in his head of Six-Thirty leaving something much worse than that on the wretched old hag's front porch or digging up her prized rhododendrons to look for the ham bone he had buried the previous week.

You and your husband both bid Six-Thirty farewell along with his parents. Poor Lucy didn't want either of you to go, but Cal had promised he'd be back soon.

The two of you had only turned around once before you and Cal had to hurry to the gate to catch your flight to Fort Meyers. Already the snow was coming down and you were both worried that you would have to stay overnight in the airport. Outside the windows you could already see the big red and silver jet, pulling off the runway to let off more passengers.

"You excited sweetheart?" Cal asked.

"More than I've ever been," you told him.

"I know, it'll feel good to get out of the cold for once," Calvin said. "Won't have to deal with any of those pricks at the college for two full weeks and we can spend all the time we want on the beach."

"And in that case you'd better wear plenty of sunscreen Mister," you warned him, giving Cal a playful tweak on the nose.

Cal laughed. "Don't worry sweetheart," he said. "Dr. Powers and his students were working on a test batch of homemade sunscreen last week and he gave us some of it."

"Ah so that's why his lab smelled like coconut oil and beeswax," you chuckled.

Calvin hummed as he pressed his lips to your soft cheek. You both couldn't deny that when Dr. Powers and his class were working on a test batch of sunscreen, his lab had smelled so good. You and Cal couldn't resist passing by there on your lunch hours, inhaling deeply at the smells of melted beeswax, coconut oil, raspberry oil and all the smells of whatever had gone into making it.

"Can't wait," he mumbled. "Two whole weeks in Florida and not a worry in the world."

You giggled a little as his kissing tickled your skin, your reverie interrupted when the desk clerk announced that your flight was boarding. You and Cal gathered up your suitcases and buttoned up your winter jackets, joining the rest of the crowd as they headed down the stairs and boarded the bus to take you to the waiting plane.

Everything went off without a hitch, your plane taking off in the snow and in the dark as it headed from the snowy north down to the warmth of the Sunshine State. You and Cal had snuggled into each other under a blanket, the both of you gazing out to the land below, only falling asleep when Cal could no longer keep his eyes open and the pages of Great Expectations splayed against his chest.

"Ladies and gentlemen, from the flight deck, this is your Captain, we will be landing in Fort Myers, Florida in less than twenty minutes," the captain announced.

You rubbed the grog from your eyes and pressed a kiss to Cal's smooth cheek, your husband groaning as he blinked his eyes open. "What time is it?" he groaned.

"Look out your window," you whispered.

The both of you looked out the window at the burst of color in the sky, reds, oranges, dark blues and pinks blending together perfectly while below, you and Cal could make out the darkened Florida landscape. You were amazed when Lake Okeechobee came into view, a sign that you were drawing closer as the plane turned over the lake.

By the time the sun came up, you and Calvin could see the palm trees, the swamps and the highways below. Off somewhere in the distance was a thin line that was the beach, but your destination lay beyond that.

"Almost there sweetheart," Cal said with a smile. "Almost there."

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

Sanibel Island, Florida

You couldn't have imagined a better place to stay with your husband than where you two had wound up. The drive out hadn't been bad at all, the sun shining bright and the hot air making the two of you feel much better after having come from the colder states.

The little beach cottage that Calvin had found was utterly perfect in every way, a comfortable little place right on the beach painted in shades of turquoise and peach pink. The garden was beautiful with all the colorful tropical flowers and a little bird feeder shaped like a lighthouse. All the smells of the beach put you at ease, the calm slap of the waves against the shore and the burning sun that washed away your winter blues.

You and Cal had slept for most of your first day, exhausted beyond words from having to get up so early to catch your flight. You slept all through the night until you yourself, had awoken the next morning to see the sun coming up.

You found a little spot on the rocks that stood in the water, flat topped and smooth from years of waves and hurricanes beating against them. You were perched right on top of the rocks, dipping your feet in the water and your legs perfectly exposed from your navy blue shorts. Never in your life had you seen so many shells in one place, thousands, maybe even millions of shells all washed up on the beach.

You wished you had your camera, seeing as it was already appearing to be the perfect morning, hot and hazy as a thick, cloud of humid mist rolled across the ocean. You nearly gasped when you saw two dolphins jumping out of the water and back under again, hoping that they would swim your way.

You yelped when you suddenly felt your husband sneak up behind you to kiss your shoulder. "Whatcha lookin at sweetheart?" Cal asked.

"Two dolphins just jumped out of the ocean," you answered.

Calvin was completely surprised when he saw them jump again and you as well. You two spent the whole day exploring the beach, picking up shell after shell, your toes in the sand and the sea-breeze in your hair and the sun on your backs. You and Cal felt brave enough to go for a swim as the sun grew hotter, slathering each other all over with the sunscreen you had brought. Jumping off the end of the pier was the most exhilarating thing the two of you had done, feeling more like children again as you went under the water and bobbed to the surface again.

The diving for shells had been the highlight of your day, you and Calvin hoping to be able to find pearls to take home. You had both found a giant conch shell that had quickly become a horn, throwing the nearby fishermen into a fit of laughter as you passed it back and forth between you and them.

It was later in the night that Cal had decided to treat you to dinner at a small place in town, a little nightclub called Emilio's. Not since your wedding night had he seen you look this gorgeous in your pine green velvet dress and your black heels.

"Sweetheart, only you and Rose Clooney could pull off that dress so well," he whispered as he escorted you in.

You laughed a little bit at his complement but deep down, you knew it was true.

The evening was absolutely perfect as you and your husband enjoyed dinner and danced with each other in the open air. Surprisingly enough, you had both become fast friends with Emilio, the owner of the place and who's daughter was in fact a student at the university where you and Calvin had both started teaching.

"Wait, is your daughter Alessia?" you asked. "Alessia Martinez?"

"¡Sí! ¡Esa es mi hija!" Emilio declared happily. "And you're her teacher, yes?"

"That would be me," you answered proudly.

Emilio still couldn't believe it, but he was thrilled to have finally met both you and Calvin after having heard so much about you both from Alessia, who had been one of your students. You stayed right through dinner and danced a little while longer until you and Cal decided to head back to the beach cottage.

You both could have fallen asleep right in the living room, but the long trudge to the bedroom had been well worth it. You kicked off your heels and stuck them in the closet while Cal stripped himself of his black suit, hanging up the tie and jacket.

"Cal can you.....?"

"Hold on sweetheart," he yawned.

His fingers gently grabbed hold of the unnoticeable zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down until it could go no further. He couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the backs of his fingers caressing the soft skin on your back. You shuddered, drawing in a breath when you felt it.

Calvin kissed your cheek and trailed all the way to the curve of your neck, his arms coming to coil around you as your dress fell to the floor. There you were in front of him, naked as you had been on the night of your wedding, one hand trailing across your hip and stomach while the other moved slightly to caress your naked breasts.

"My pretty wifey," he sighed. "I love you so much."

He kept kissing you, more so when you turned around to face him, deepening it just a little as you helped Calvin unbutton his white dress shirt. You couldn't help yourself when you undid the last one, littering his chest with sloppy, open mouthed kisses.

Calvin grabbed you by the hips and forcefully pulled you a little closer, the lust burning in his eyes like sapphire flames. "Let me open a window to let in some air," he said.

Even with the air conditioning in the house it was still a little warm in the back bedroom. Cal pushed the window open just a crack and shut the bamboo slat blinds on the doors that led to the back porch. Outside you could hear the ocean, the breeze and the incessant chirping of frogs and night-birds which was music to your ears.

Calvin's lips attached once again to yours, kissing you deeply as you pushed his shirt off him. You felt his breath getting more rapid as your hands moved to undo his belt, the buckle clinking as you undid it and pulled it from the beltloops in his pants and tossed it aside.

You both fell to the bed with Calvin rutting right into you, his cock already hard and throbbing, still imprisoned by his black dress pants and his shorts. You teased him just a little, your hand dipping low into the back to grab a handful of his firm ass-cheek

"Hey!" he said suddenly, his head shooting up to meet your gaze. "No butt stuff just yet sweetheart."

You giggled a little as you helped him off with his pants and then his shorts, both of you now free to explore each other's bodies as much as you wished.

"Wanna give you a honeymoon baby so bad, sweet pea," he groaned, sliding himself into you and sloppily kissing your cheeks and neck. "Wanna fill you up.....watch your body change and grow....."

An unholy moan escaped your mouth as he rutted into you again, the dirty words spilling into your ears and making the wetness between your legs worse than it already was. You wanted nothing more than for Calvin to spill himself inside of you, to feel it all rush up deeply and settle there.

And that's just what he did. As soon as he could see that you were about to cum, he lifted you upright, letting you steady yourself against his shoulders as you both came together. Your head fell against his shoulder, the both of you breathing heavily and shaking a little bit.

"You alright sweet pea?" he asked.

You nodded sleepily.

Calvin laughed a little before you both drifted off to sleep, the frogs, bugs and birds singing you both to sleep until the sun rose again the next morning and you awoke again, happily in each other's arms.