#Hurt series

[ruporas]

your love returns in tragedy (ID in alt)

#farcille #falin touden #marcille donato #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #coming face to face with the consequences of acting out of love - marcille u will always be famous #dunmeshi is really a series that keeps on moving bc it's about so many different characters and centered on the journey #rather than like... introspectively on one singular individual so i dont think we see marcille dwell on it but we can see her fatigue #her shock and surprise in the recent ep “don't hurt her she's just confused” Gah. desperately trying to grasp everything thats going on and #not to lose hope. bc undoubtedly the remains she put together was falin's - that short moment of reprieve the party had was with falin #she was able to bring her back her magic did it!! but the violence the fatal swings was not falin at all. #just pondering about holding that guilt... it's such a huge responsibility to be in charge of life in the first place and yet it is #a burden she'll keep trudging with. defying the natural orders to keep the people she love alive... i Lauv her... #also shared sentiment with the rest of the fandom but God. Chimera Falin... she is Everything.... #ruporas art

[kyri45]

#i just think they're neat #finding completed fics is already hard #but when you find one that is part of a SERIES #you know that's a keeper #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 memes #fanfiction memes #enemies to lovers #hurt/comfort #archive of our own

[iphigeniacomplex]

it’s very easy to tell the good satires and pastiches from the bad ones because the bad ones are too afraid to live within the form. like if you are doing work with fairy tales and you are refusing to look closer at the underlying logic and unspoken rules of what can seem at first to be a senseless form, you are not going to create meaningful work. to borrow a turn of phrase originally used by maria tatar, if you refuse to enter “the house of fairy tale” as anything more than a gawking tourist, you will miss the particular order to the way the table is set, the rooms that are locked vs the rooms that are simply difficult to enter, the set of the floorboards and the position of the furniture. whatever you build will then be a gilded imitation of how you believe the house of fairy tale ought to look, the table set according to your educated specifications and every door open. there can be no interrogation of themes from a writer who views the form as beneath them!

#it speaks! #sondheim understood this with into the woods; the deconstruction of narrative itself is able to happen because we are able to believe in -> #<- the fairy tale logic he employs prior to this. #its a kids book but adam gidwitz understood this with a tale dark and grimm!! #cant speak for the rest of the series but that first book uses the absurdity of fairy tale logic to speak about the absurdity of -> #<- adulthood and the pedagogy present in many fairy tales to discuss the ways parents hurt their children. #rule of threes is important but theres so much on my list ive yet to read; always welcome recommendations. #fairy tales #into the woods #<- this comes from musings on how successfully i feel that musical functions so it gets the tag

[hanmegumi]

LMAO

edit: turning off reblogs because some of the people that are reblogging are extremely fucking moronic. holy shit

#anti jk rowling #anti harry potter #1) she's not being removed because 'she spoke up about biological sex' she actively influences anti-trans policies #2) it's not misogynistic to remove her. the fact that she's a woman doesn't have ANYTHING to do with her removal #3) the people reblogging this in approval don't 'cry when an artist isn't credited' this isn't the same fucking thing. #this is as the article says (if you know how to read 🤭) the quickest solution to reduce her impact #this bitch doesn't just hurt trans people. it's clear in her books that she's a white supremacist and she's also antisemitic #and she said dumbledore is gay for clout. it's fucking obvious. stop defending this woman and get a life- #-or get involved on the side of trans people #or just generally drop the fucking series you read as a middle schooler. nostalgia isn't more important than the lives of trans/jewish ppl

[denimbex1986]

'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

#David Tennant #Michael Sheen #Good Omens #Neil Gaiman #Terry Pratchett #Ty Tennant #Peter Davison #Aziraphale #Crowley #Doctor Who #Macbeth #Ncuti Gatwa #Job #Ennon #Bright Young Things #Series 2 #Matt Smith #John Hurt #Russell T. Davies #Catherine Tate #Max Webster #Life of Pi #Sex Education #Billie Piper #Rose Tyler #BBC Sounds

[isjasz]

[Day 174]

You aren't alone

In these trying times I decided to not do angst tdy actually we need some fluff

They get hugs🫂

#dddaily4sherin #grian #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #life series #trafficblr #traffic smp #hermitcraft #hermitblr #its the “they get back to hermitcraft after life series” thingy and the winners find each other #i said we need some fluff but this is more hurt/comfort kinda and i drew this while looping by your side in the bg i need to punch a wall #scar deserves all the hugs #my art

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {masterlist}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

Word Count: 57.8k - finished

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little mean in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, arguing, heated interactions, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), jealousy, more to be added as the story develops!

A/N: hinted at this back around the holidays, but will soon be committing time to bring this to life!

ao3 link || main masterlist || ko-fi

fic teaser || fic teaser no.2 || sneakie peek || olive's song

the conversations we have: pre-series one shots:

sweetening the deal || how we pass the time || weather permitting

main series:

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7

epilogue

#dev writes #fic: by the grit of sandpaper #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #jackson! joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #carpenter joel miller #artisan joel miller #woodworker joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #angst #pining #unrequited feelings #hurt and comfort #jackson era #jackson era joel #patrol partnership #ao3 link #ao3 fic

[mauls-fair-in-love-and-war]

“They glossed over ezra finding out how the war ended” I wanna know who had to tell Thrawn that not only did the Death Star get destroyed exactly how he said it would, but the empire turned around and built another one that got blown up again

#‘did it hurt? when I told you it was stupid and I was right’ #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #ahsoka series #ahsoka show #Star Wars

[ladybirdswritings]

sweet thing - dbf!joel miller x reader

Summary: Your life is in disarray. Your father is overbearing, your boyfriend is unkind— and blooming into adulthood is just about the most difficult season you’ve braved. Things only become more complex when feelings begin to develop between you and an old friend of your fathers. DBF!Joel Miller (dad’s best friend). Alternate universe as well, there is NO APOCALYPSE.

Notes: Girl I have been radio silent but this picture awoke me from my slumber because oh my God??? Look at this beautiful, haunted man. Pls enjoy the ideas that came from this still. Idk how well this will do but if u guys enjoy, lmk (I LOVE comments / interactions) and I will add to it <3

A03 | masterlist

sweet thing…

Your father did the best he could. You knew that very well. Charlie was a man respected and adored by his humble community. A hard working father turned single parent when your mom fell ill and god— you were his little flower. His sweet thing. His angel.

Flowers are fragile, though. Gentle, moldable petals and stiff, snappable stems.

It is why he kept you so close to him, so prized like painted porcelain just ready to crack.

It is why you were here. Here at Jackson’s golden hued dance with more powdered, jam-filled pastries and red, roasted meats then you could count on one hand. Here. Instead of the alternative option which was the party your boyfriend decided to attend without you.

You got the invite, sure, yet even as a legal adult— what daddy says? Goes. So long as you remain under his roof, at least. It was infuriating, though. The freedom of all your dear friends, the spontaneity. If only that could be you…

Your eyes drifted to the moustached sponge of all fun and joy in the world, wrapped in a flannel with bourbon in hand. Your dad was seated next to Joel, as he often was. His presence was a newfound thing for these recent years and though Joel would never say it, you had an inkling that he wanted to stand by his friend’s side after your mother… well.

You didn’t know Joel well. No, not at all. His visits were always the occasional dinner or drop in for fishing or some awfully manly thing. You knew well that your mother adored him, though— so that was enough to make him alright in your book.

Neighbor Betsy told you once that Joel had lost his wife and daughter too, and that maybe he was trying to keep your father from going through what he went through alone.

You only laughed at that.

Joel Miller was gruff and cold. Could he have such a warm heart beneath his sherpa coat?

You dazed out, the fingers snapping in front of your eyes made you blink back into the golden hues and roasted sausages on pointy little sticks.

“You alright, honeybee?” Your father asked, laying a heavy arm upon your shoulders. Joel was slower in his approach, eyeing you up and down with confusion and something else in his eyes.

“Peachy.” You only muttered, taking a sip of your freshly squeezed lemonade. Jackson’s finest.

“Oh come on now angel… now you know I can’t have you runnin’ off with that boyfriend of yours. I always told you he was trouble. Member’ when he ditched you down by Church Road during mosquito season? Well you were ripe as a red tomater and who had to pick you up?”

You were riper, redder now. Your cheeks an embarrassed hue not even on the color wheel, not even identifiable. You bowed your head, huffing out your frustrations before simply muttering: “you did, dad.”

He nodded proud, squeezing your shoulder. “That’s right, I did… what?”

Your eyes drifted up to see your father’s oldest friend with an odd kind of expression on his face. Brows pinched and raised, wrinkles plaguing his forehead deeper now.

Joel only cleared his throat, shifting on his boots and taking a sip of his bourbon in preparation. Then? He spoke.

“You ain’t lettin’ her be.” He gruffly offered, eyes set and sure. Your father only stilled for a moment, wondering if it was even Joel’s place to have an opinion… maybe it was.

“Why’s that?” He asked Joel, and the rough looking man only took another swig.

“Mm. We were both young once. We both made mistakes, y’gotta let her make her own— can’t hide her from em’. Just ain’t how it works.”

Poppies blossomed like springtime had finally begun in your eyes. Finally— someone understood. You didn’t expect him to be so… wise?

Your father only huffed, taking a long glance your way as he mused.

“Even if I wanted to loosen the leash tonight, Joel, I can’t. Maria needs me here to keep an eye on crazy old Arthur.”

Joel’s brows relaxed at that, a purpled hand running along the zipper of his flannel coat. His eyes were a chocolate kind of brown, dark and quietly encasing his thoughts within them.

He hummed, gaze drifting back to you.

You wanted to shrink. Perhaps it was because you were on the spot, perhaps it was because the way he stared would make anyone feel small.

It seemed like centuries before he cleared his throat again.

“I’ll take her.”

What?

You didn’t understand it, not one bit. Why was he kind enough to offer you an out here? Kind enough to test your father’s words.

Discomfort radiated through your father’s coat, tension molding its way into his already stiff bones. A long sigh, a glance back and forth as he truly considered. His expression was far too plagued with worry, and you knew well that it was now or never.

You had to slam down the last nail in the oak wood coffin.

“Please, daddy? I’ll check in every half hour, I promise.”

Tension eased, slightly but— still. Your eyes were doe-like and sweet, and he gazed into them for a moment far too long before allowing his arm to drop.

“Every fifteen minutes and you’ve got a deal. Miller, you make sure my daughter gets in and out of that bastard’s house safely.”

Joel only nodded once, jaw tense and expression stoic. Your grin was wider than a field of flowers, and you immediately wrapped your father in a hug. Your thank yous seemed endless, and it made him laugh.

When you parted, Joel had keys grasped in his rough hands. You realized for a moment that you had no idea why he was doing this. What did he owe you? Maybe it was pity. You were half an orphan, after all.

With a cautious glance, your eyes met his own. He nodded once as if to urge you closer, and you stumbled his way. Before you knew it? You were out the door, trailing behind him like his shadow.

Of all the people who cared enough to convince your father to let you go to this party tonight? Joel Miller was the last person you expected it to be…

¿to be continued?

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dads best friend #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller story #joel miller self insert #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller age gap #joel miller comfort #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller imagine

[emmaspolaroid]

Fujimoto when I catch you……

#I’m losing my mind aoughhhh my stomach hurts!! #asaden nation how we feelin #identity reveals go so crazy in this series lol #HE LOOKS SO CONFUSED AND SCAREDDD #lord please take all of Denji’s suffering and give it to Barem #chainsaw man #chainsaw man spoilers #chainsaw man part 2 #chainsaw man part 2 spoilers #csm spoilers #asaden

[faramirsonofgondor]

“Gabe isn’t abusive in the show” ARE WE WATCHING THE SAME SHOW???

Gabe is literally introduced by yelling at someone who, when Percy apologizes for Gabe’s behavior, says “I’m walking out, you’re walking in. I should be apologizing to you.” And then Percy reluctantly and slowly walks inside. And Gabe immediately starts in on him (calling him “Genius” in a mocking tone) as Percy repeatedly expresses that he just wants to talk to his mom ( and Gabe’s subsequent “Is that all you have to say to me?”) The fact that he answered Sally’s phone and acted like he had every right to do so?? The way he shows begrudging respect when thinks Percy was violent towards another kid at school?? The “you would think that because you’re a child, you don’t understand things…” The way he gets annoyed that Percy wants to know where his mother is. The “what are we doing Percy? every time! wow…wow!” in such a condescending tone??? Percy’s immediate alarm when Sally calls Gabe’s name. Gabe immediately yelling at Sally, not knowing anything about Percy’s life (he didn’t even know his school’s name despite literally just talking to them), the way he makes Sally negotiate to use the car (“Why am I okay with this?” “Make sure they put the hot peppers on my sandwich please!”) the way he acts like his tone of voice shouldn’t matter to Sally because he said “please” the aggressive behavior even after he concedes to letting them use the car (getting in Percy’s face, pointing his finger at him, etc.), like???

Just because he isn’t depicted as smacking the shit out of them doesn’t mean he isn’t abusive. He is constantly yelling, even when it’s not necessary, and is overall condescending and rude towards both Percy and Sally. He has a positive reaction towards the idea of Percy being violent, which means that he probably has no problems getting violent himself, even if it isn’t show on screen. The fact that he is constantly trying to redirect Percy and Sally’s decision to make himself the center of it (he is trying to goad Percy into an argument when he gets kicked out of school and overall keeps trying to redirect the conversation back to himself, he acts like he is allowed to breach Sally and Percy’s privacy but then makes Sally get his permission to drive somewhere, and even then she has to give him something in return). Like he is very clearly controlling and emotionally/financially abusive (he acts like Sally’s things are his despite not having a job and likely blowing through their money). It also seems like he tries to diminish Percy’s self esteem, possibly to keep him and Sally under his thumb (it’s a common tactic used by abusers to make the victims feel like the need to depend on the abuser). Overall, just because he might not be physically abusing them, doesn’t mean he isn’t abusing them and doesn’t mean his actions aren’t harmful. Furthermore, just because he isn’t violent on screen doesn’t mean he isn’t violent.

#pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo #percy jackson #gabe ugliano #sally jackson #tw child abuse #abuse mention #tw abuse #emotional abuse #mental abuse #financial abuse #spousal abuse #abuse is still abuse no matter what it looks like #emotional abuse can be just as hurtful as physical abuse

[pa-rou]

'Cause you make me feel Like I'm so alone

#grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #3rd life #life series #desert duo #parou sketches #guilt guilt guilt more guilt #the kind that makes you so afraid to hurt them again only for the distance to hurt both of you even moreeeeeee #*shaking you by the sholders* do you get my vision!? #also caption is from mr. fear by SIAMES #which lowkey inspired this jsknx

[demigods-posts]

annabeth being jealous of her friends that have powers. partially because they look fun and cool. mainly because it's the parents way extending a piece of themselves. of their powers. to their offspring. it was an act of trust and faith. and all that athena gave to annabeth. annabeth had to build from the ground up. which one could argue is a test of strength. but sometimes. annabeth didn't want to be strong. she wanted to be loved.

#this just poured out of me #but this gives me an amazing idea for this ten-part ao3 fanfic series i'm planning👀 #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo text post #pjo #pjo headcanon #annabeth chase #annabeth chase angst #annabeth chase hurt #annabeth chase is the daughter of athena

[munsonson]

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

The cookie smell wafted welcomingly into her nose as she pulls open the oven door, The chocolate chips were plentiful, and she could see it was hot enough that it would practically melt over your tastebuds. She smiles, slipping on an oven mitt before taking the pan out.

What was supposed to be a day of tears and emotional eating turned into a productive day of baking and dressing herself nicer than she even had for school, and that was because she had tried to dress to impress Eddie. The thought saddened her a little, but she remembered Steve and the night he had planned for them and it didn’t hurt so much anymore.

While the cookies cooled, she removed her apron and went to grab some tupperware to fit it in before she pulled the phone off the receiver and dialed. It rang for just a minute before someone picked up.

It was the typical pizza joint greeting until, “this is Gareth, what can I get started for you today?”

Her mouth ran dry and she suddenly lost the ability to speak. Gareth was there when Eddie had started talking about her and much like the other Hellfire club members aside from Dustin and Mike, he didn’t jump to her defense. Would he recognize her voice? How embarrassing would that be? Should she just play stupid?

“Hel-” She quickly slams the receiver back down and picks it up, dialing a different number.

“Harrington residence!” Steve sings.

“I need to know if this is progress or not,” she starts, twirling the cord between her fingers. “Say Eddie’s friend works at the only pizza place Hawkins has, is hanging up before saying anything a good or bad thing?”

“Well, it’s not great,” Steve said. “But A for effort, love, no worries! You’ll get better. Comes with time, everything is still a little fresh, I mean it happened just today at lunch.”

She nods in agreement, glad she once again turned to Steve with this.

“Man, does this mean I’m not getting my Sausage Lovers’ Pizza?” he complains jokingly.

“In short of you making the call and requesting only non-Hellfire Club members deliver it, probably not,” she says, stretching the phone as far as it could go so she could start carefully placing the cookies into the tupperware, still hot and soft in her hands.

“I can make it happen, just get over here already,” Steve groans.

“Okay, okay, I’ll only be a minute. See you there,” she huffs, hanging up the phone and placing the plastic top onto the container. With her cookies safe and secure, she turns off the oven and gives her kitchen a once over before retrieving her car keys and leaving.

The night was still very young, the sun hadn’t even disappeared yet, painting Hawkins in a heavenly orange glow. Her car was in its typical place parked at the far end of her lawn. She opens the door and places the cookies down before hoisting herself up into the driver’s seat.

Pulling out of her drive, she takes the familiar route to Steve’s home, one hand on the wheel and the other keeping the tupperware steady.

Things tonight were going pretty good thus far. She’d been trying to keep her mind off of Eddie and all the awful things he’d said at lunch, knowing if she’d dwell on it it’d just make her feel worse. She didn’t wanna focus on that, she wanted to think about the night ahead of her that she’d get to spend with one of her best friends. Eating junk food and watching all the silly movies he liked. That sounded a great deal better.

Her old car sputtered and coughed as she ascended the lean hill that led up to Steve’s house, still perched at the top with the same intimidating hedges, walls, and the glow of his swimming pool he still neglected to properly take care of. Even still, it’s a welcoming sight.

She parks off the driveway, not wanting to block him or his parents from coming in and out, switching off the car and taking the container of cookies up towards the front doors.

She doesn’t get the chance to knock before Steve opens it, grinning down at her.

“My, my, my, what brings you here?” he asks.

“You gonna invite me in or let me freeze on your doorstep?” she sniggers. He clears his throat and holds his hand out expectantly. Rolling her eyes, she shoves the container into his chest and pushes past him. 

“I was actually offering you a hand inside, jerk!” he calls over his shoulder. He shuts the door and follows her into the living room where the fire was already going and he had the movie paused on the TV. Blankets were piled haphazardly on the cushions along with two pillows from his bed from upstairs and the coffee table was pulled suspiciously closer. She can’t help but smile. He knew her legs couldn’t stretch as far as his to reach it, so he’d adjusted it without telling her. 

“Wow, you really go all out for a casual movie night with your friend,” she says, turning back to him. He blushes in embarrassment, but he still smiles. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Steve, honestly.”

“Give me a break, I needed the reason to strip my bed. Bed bugs,” he says dramatically, lifting the comforter and holding it threateningly towards her. She yelps and jumps out of the way. He starts laughing. “No, but...look, I wanted you to forget everything that happened earlier today. Show you how you should be treated, even if it’s just by little ‘ol me.” 

Her heart swelled. “Thank you.” 

He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it. He takes the cookie container and places it on the coffee table, walking around and flicking the light switches so the only thing keeping their faces illuminated was his abnormally big television screen his father swung for two Christmases ago. 

“The pizza should be here any minute,” he says conversationally as he goes to finally sit on the couch. He pats the spot beside him invitingly. “I don’t wanna have to pause the movie again, so pop a squat and entertain me for a little, would ya?” 

She nods and goes to sit down, instantly raveling herself up in his comforter. It smelled like him, and she was sure if she accidentally nodded off she’d get a mouthful of Steve Harrington’s glorious hairs plucked off his head from tossing and turning throughout the night.

“What movies you gonna burden me with tonight?”

“Bold talk for someone who didn’t have a hand in sneaking them out under Keith’s careful watch with those nifty security cameras he’s got installed.” Steve said. “Nothin’ special, though. Figured I’d appeal to your frilly girly senses, managed to snag Sixteen Candles and Footloose. But, just to clear my eyes at the end, I also nabbed Gremlins.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, I gave you Molly Ringwald and Kevin Bacon, gimme a little leeway.”

“Fair enough.” 

Steve pats her head, turning so she’d face him. “How you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she says defensively. He shakes his head, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and sneakily sliding his hand over her shoulders to tug her into his side. She doesn’t reject the contact. The closeness actually felt a little nice. He smelled like the video store. That was a strange thing to say, but Family Video did have a pretty distinctive aroma. 

“He’s a dick,” Steve said again. “He doesn’t know great you are. And once he realizes it’s gonna be too late. You’re not boring, otherwise I wouldn’t have you here with me. Understand?” She nods and he kisses the crown of her head. “Stop getting mad over people who don’t have any kind of control over your life, alright? Especially not Eddie Munson.”

“Hard not to. God, it just sounds so pathetic. I want someone to be crazy for me, to want to constantly talk to me or think about me or wondering what I’m doing. And...I really wanted it to be Eddie for some reason. And there’s always wishful thinking, you know? Like you just hope and that’s enough because there’s just certain things you don’t wanna find out. And then...I did. I looked behind the curtain,” she rambled. 

Steve doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Really, she didn’t even know if she wanted him to add his two cents. That was just her flaunting her wounds like she was best at. Unfortunately for Steve, he was really easy to unload on because she knew he’d still be there after. It’s what made him so great. 

“Is it narcissism? Or just loneliness?” 

“Being human,” Steve gives the hidden third answer. “I feel shitty that he made you feel shitty.” 

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t be feeling shitty at all. Of all people, you know?” Steve said with a shrug. “It just surprises me someone like him could do this to someone like you.”

“Someone like him?”

“Come on, don’t make me say it,” Steve scoffs. 

“Well no...you brought it up, Steve, just tell me.” 

“Well, Munson’s pretty...out there. I remember when I was in school, he’d just always be makin’ a complete fool of himself or he’d be mixing it up with the wrong crowds because he’s into that drug shit. He sold to me once, you know? But it was just weed.” Steve said. “When you told me you were seeing him I didn’t really believe it at first. That someone like him...could win over someone like you. It just didn’t make any sense. So the fact you’re taking this so hard, it’s...a little daunting.” 

She didn’t know how to take that. Steve was clearly telling her she was way out of Eddie’s league and his words shouldn’t be bringing her as far down as they were. But that thought kind of angered her. She didn’t believe in leagues. She supposed the idea of it was just the remnants of King Steve still clinging to his subconscious, that some people were capable of attracting some people and not others. Or however they worked. 

At the same time it was strangely comforting that he saw her this way, that...she was this unattainable being that someone like Eddie goddamn Munson could possibly think she was less than.

Before she could try to find the words to explain that to Steve, the doorbell rang. The pizza was here. 

“I’ll get it,” Steve says softly. 

For the rest of the night, they didn’t talk about Eddie again. She never got to tell him how she felt about his view on Eddie Munson and how he thought his words should(or, in her case, shouldn’t) affect her. Maybe that was a good thing. It seemed like whatever negative feeling about herself that she had, he had a way to counter it. 

Nevertheless, she did have a really good time. Steve had kept things relatively normal, he made her laugh, he dropped a piece of pizza on the couch and she had to watch while trying not to laugh as he furiously dabbed it with one of his mom’s good towels. 

He really did make her forget. Steve was a friend, a real friend to her tonight. 

By now they were lounging, back to cable TV as she was slowly being lulled to sleep by the repetitive commercials and their incessant ramblings as they tried to get bored housewives to buy their products. Then Steve’s phone rang, startling them both into sudden consciousness. 

“What the hell?” he grunts, stumbling to his feet. He was a little unsteady, having just been asleep. She reaches forward and stands him upright. 

He makes it to the phone and practically rips it off the receiver. 

“Harrington resi...” he trails off into a yawn. “Harrington residence....yeah....yeah, she’s here. Why? ...So? ....Relax, Henderson, I’ll just...Jesus.” He turns to her. “It’s for you!” 

Confused, she gets up. She grabs the phone from him. 

“Hello?” she says cautiously. 

“Jesus, there you are! You realize how hard you are to track down?” Dustin’s voice said, irritated. 

“Dustin? What’s the matter? Is everything okay?” she asks, worried. 

“Yes! Yeah, it’s just....I didn’t see you at lunch, you know? I got worried. I tried to call you as soon as I got out of Hellfire about an hour ago and you didn’t answer, so...kind of called around until I could get ahold of you,” Dustin said. 

Her heart swelled. This kid was a good one. 

“What’re you doing at Steve’s?” he asks. 

“Oh, um...Steve invited me to watch some movies and I fell asleep.” she said. That was technically the truth. She decided not to mention that the purpose of movie night was to help her forget Eddie’s cruel words. 

“Oh, really?” Dustin asked, suddenly sounding like he was grinning. “I didn’t know you and Steve liked to host movie nights without us.”

“I don’t follow,” she said. 

“Don’t let me interrupt you guys. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Lunch was pretty weird without you,” Dustin said. 

“I doubt that,” she said, turning to give Steve an apologetic look. He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it before trailing back towards the couch probably to fall back asleep. 

“No, really. I think I prefer the dynamic with you around. Things get weird...um...Eddie today was weird.” Dustin said. She was tempted to to press on, get Dustin to come out and repeat what Eddie had said but decided against it. “You’ll still sit with us again Monday, won’t you?”

No. She definitely did not want to sit at that table again knowing the truth. What was worse, she couldn’t bare lying to Dustin. She really wanted to avoid talking about this, but it seemed like she didn’t have a choice. 

“Actually, Dustin...I was there...today. You guys just didn’t see me,” she said. Before Dustin could question her now intentional absence, she continued, “I overheard what you guys were talking about.”

There was a long pause on his end. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what his problem is. B-But you heard Mike and I, right? How we...”

“You have nothing to prove, Dustin, this isn’t on you. And honestly I can’t even be mad at Eddie. He’s more than welcome to his opinion. I just don’t think I can sit there knowing he doesn’t think much of me. I’ll still be able to see you guys, I’m not gonna completely avoid...that would be childish. I think I’ll just sit with Robin o-or Nancy.” 

“Maybe I can talk to him! Get him to apologize!”

“He has nothing to apologize for, Dustin, don’t do that,” she said sternly. “It’s fine, Dustin! This doesn’t change anything! I just think some space would be good.”

“Okay,” Dustin said, noticeably disappointed. “I gotta go. I have to meet Lucas and Mike tomorrow at the arcade. Maybe you can meet us there?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said. “Night, Dustin.” He wished her a goodnight and, at last, she hung up the phone. She glances at the clock hung up on the wall, wincing at how late it was. She walks back towards the living area where Steve had made himself very comfortable in the little blanket and pillow fort they’d unintentionally made. 

“Everything good?” he asks sleepily. 

“Perfectly fine. Um...it’s getting late, Steve, I should go.”

“What? Why?” 

“You probably wanna get some shut eye and I don’t need to burden you with my problems any longer. Thanks so much for tonight, though, Steve. It really helped.” 

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. He lifts up the comforter he had covering the lower half of his body. 

“Come on,” he said, leaving little room for argument. “It’s too late anyway. Robin crashes here all the time.” She hesitates for a moment, then moves around the couch to curl up beside him, surprised at how warm he was. He covers them both up and shuts his eyes again, as if this was completely normal. And why shouldn’t it be? They were friends. Close friends. Close friends had sleepovers. 

She turned over to politely give him some space and not be all up in his business. She pulls the comforter up to her chin and shuts her eyes, trying to calm all of her swimming thoughts. Tonight was about forgetting Eddie Munson. Tonight was about fun. 

With that, she slowly drifted off to sleep again. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

Dustin hangs up the phone a little harder than he should have, clearly upset. Eddie, Mike, Lucas, and Jeff remained unburdened by his sudden hostility, all lazily lounging in Dustin’s living room as they watched his Friday the 13th copy he convinced Steve to let him rent despite his age.

“Who the hell was that that kept you so occupied?” Mike asked as he rejoins them, taking back his spot. Dustin doesn’t answer at first, accepting the bowl of popcorn offered to him by Jeff. After swallowing two handfuls, he gives it back and glares pointedly at Eddie. The metalhead doesn’t notice at first, too into the film to notice Dustin had even left in the first place. 

“Steve was hosting a movie night, too,” he says instead, out of nowhere sporting a not-so-nice plot. He loved Eddie, respected him. He considered Eddie to be one of his best friends, but he knew he screwed up big time with her. And Dustin wanted him to get a little taste of his own medicine. “Wasn’t alone though.”

“Buckley keeping him company?” Eddie asked, eyes still not moving from the screen. So he was listening. Good. 

Dustin smirks and looks at Mike. “No, you won’t believe who he’s got spending the night there with him.”

“Not my sister,” Mike said, looking green. 

“What? No, man, she wouldn’t do that to Jonathan! No, it was...” Even Jeff had to look away from the movie. 

“Steve and her? Really?” he asks. 

Eddie, at last, seemed to finally look away from the TV screen. He didn’t look distraught, but he wasn’t exactly too keen on the news either. Good enough, in Dustin’s opinion. 

“I didn’t know she and Steve were going steady,” he said. 

“Eh, they’re not. Figure it’s a first date kinda thing. I actually think I interrupted something when I called,” Dustin said. Eddie’s eye twitches. “Decided to leave them to it. I’ll bug Steve tomorrow on the details when he goes to work.” 

“Good for Steve,” Lucas chuckles from the beanbag, his smile quickly disappearing when Eddie’s head shot towards him. “I mean...wow...pretty surprising stuff. Uh, Jeff! Can I get some popcorn over here?” 

“I guess that’s why she wasn’t there for lunch,” Dustin continued. “Think she wanted to go visit him at the video place.”

Eddie sits back in Dustin’s mother’s armchair, slowly moving his gaze back to the TV screen. He definitely didn’t look as comfortable as he was beforehand. Dustin knew she told him to not punish Eddie for this. But Dustin was notorious for not doing as he was told. 

#` #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #eddie #stranger things #stranger things angst #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #hurt feelings #series

[lila-went-missing]

Saw you want to write Clarisse x Reader and I NEED more clarisee x reader fics SO!

Can you a Clarisse x reader of when Percy broke her spear and just like readers reaction to the her scream and just very angsty but very fully at the same time! Pls and thank u!

I swear on my life reverse hurt/comfort is one of my favorite things to write on this planet. Also, I feel like it’s worth mentioning that Dior said she literally BLEW OUT HER VOICE when she did that scream?!?! She never fails to amaze me.

This got a bit sadder than intended but it's not too bad. Also, sorry this took so long, I had a math test, two essays, and a debate, on top of personal shit. But I FINALLY got it finished.

My Love is Waiting For You to Come Home

Warnings: Slight violence, mild angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, small amounts of blood, mentions of wounds, lmk if I left anything out.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Apollo!Reader

For the first time in what felt like forever, capture the flag was going great. It had been a long time since the red team had won, but you were actually doing really well. You were up in a tree close to the flag, shooting anyone who got too close with your arrows. They weren't sharp, but they had enough of a point to hurt.

Clarisse was hunting in the woods below you. You'd occasionally catch sight of her from the place you were perched on your branch. She always looked amazing like this. Hair pulled back, armor on, spear in hand. She was in her element, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't extremely attractive. The way she looked so tough, her lucky red bandanna tied around her bicep.

Anyone else would say she looked terrifying. But to you, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on. You were the only one who got that side of her.

It wasn't long before she disappeared again, hunting down anyone who dared to get close to the flag or your tree. She had mentioned something before the game. Something about revenge on the new kid. She didn't go into detail about said revenge, but you new it wouldn't end well for someone.

You didn't move from your tree, assuming her and her siblings had everything handled. And they did, for a while at least. You had shot down another four people by the time you heard your girlfriend scream in a way that genuinely terrified you.

Jumping down from the tree, you raced to the sound as the conch horn blue. You made it in time to see her storm off as the blue team carried the flag over. Just before she made it out of sight, you saw the spear in her hand. Or rather, what was left of it.

Oh gods. You thought.

You tipped your head back, letting out a breath before turning in the direction she went. You found her in the arena, tearing dummy after dummy into shreds. You let her go at it for a while, watching from the doorway.

Eventually, you slowly walked towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Clar.." You whisper.

She jumps, turning quickly, ready to knock you into the ground before relaxing. All of the tension disappears from her face, her bottom lip trembling. You reach forward, taking the sword from her hand and tossing it into the rack haphazardly.

"I- fuck.." She drops her head forward, breathing hard.

"Come on.. it'll be okay." You lead her towards your cabin, knowing all of your siblings would be in the infirmary tending to peoples wounds. You can see cuts and bruises on her arms, giving you a feeling that her back will be even worse. You make sure to grab the pieces of her spear on your way out.

On the way to your cabin, her eyes don't leave the ground. Your hand stays on her back the the whole walk, not leaving even as you open the door for her.

She sits on your bed, putting her head in her hands. The broken weapon lays on the foot of your bed as you sit next to her. Her breath shakes with her body.

"Let me clean you up, okay?" She nods, at your words.

"Okay.." Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before. You lean forward and pull her shirt over her head, confirming your suspicions about her back. An angry red covers almost the entirety of her tan skin, small amounts of blood leaking from a few spots.

You hover a hand over the scrapes and cuts, a warm glow emanating from your palm. Her wounds slowly heal as her muscles relax. Your heart breaks for her every time you hear her wince or feel her breath hitch. Your free hand reaches forward, grasping hers. A few small scars form over the area, but nothing that won't fade.

You lean your chin on her shoulder when you finish, wrapping your arm around her front. Her other hand reaches up to hold your wrist.

"I love you.." You whisper into her ear.

She hesitates, not speaking for a few moments. When she does her voice is as shaky as her body.

"That was the only thing- the only proof he-" She can't finish either sentence. You can feel her holding her breath as if she's trying not to cry.

"I know, my love. I know." Your lips press into her shoulder. "I'm gonna talk to some Hephaestus kids, I think there's a couple of Hecate kids in the Hermes cabin. I'll do everything I can to fix it."

Her whole body shudders. She's never had the best relationship with her dad. He'd always said that she should've been a son. That spear was the only acknowledgement she'd ever gotten from him. And now it was broken.

A few tears slip down her cheek that you pretend not to see.

"It'll be okay, Clar'." Your arms tighten around her as her head leans into you.

"Thank you." She mutters. If it wasn't for your close proximity you probably wouldn't have heard it at all.

"You deserve someone to care about you.. I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to be that person."

"I love you. So much." Her voices is so soft, so gentle.

"I love you more." You're not sure how long you sit like that, but it's long enough for your legs to go numb. You can bring yourself to care as she looks so comfortable. She's always had to fight for her dad's love. It gets tiring after you do everything you can to get no recognition. It was nice to know she had someone. If she didn't have anyone else, she would have you.

Eventually you moved positions to her laying on your chest. Your hand rubs up and down her back as her wrap around your waist. She traces patterns across your skin with her finger tips. It's not long before you're both sound asleep in each other's arms. She would never have to fight for your love, it was just there, ready for her when she came home.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #clarisse la rue #dior goodjohn #clarisse la rue x reader #x reader #percy series #percy jackson disney+ #clarisse pjo #hurt/comfort #light angst #fluff #one shot #clarisse x reader #clarisse is bae

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the croissants

buttercup, chapter one

a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.

summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)

word count: 2415

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“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 

Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”

“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”

“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”

Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.

“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 

“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 

Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”

“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”

As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 

Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”

“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 

“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.

“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.

“Bye!”

You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 

Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 

“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 

Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.

“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 

“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.

“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”

But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”

Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 

“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 

Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 

“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 

Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”

“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”

“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 

After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.

“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 

“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 

“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”

“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”

“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 

“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”

“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”

“You?”

“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”

“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”

“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”

“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.

“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”

“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”

“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”

“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”

“Yep.”

“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”

“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”

“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”

“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”

“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”

“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 

But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”

The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.

Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”

Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”

Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”

“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”

“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”

Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 

As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 

Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 

“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 

“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”

“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Sure, I like croissants.”

“Oh, great, wonderful!”

Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”

“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 

It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 

“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 

As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  

“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 

And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 

“Night.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

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