#Best couple in the show!

[luckyshinyhunter]

💞🎭They've giving stonbotnik vibes and I'm definitely here for it!🎭💞

[not-someone-you-adore]

My Roman Empire is Percabeth. Imagine two souls who renounced immortality for each other, even before their hearts were bound as one. Picture Percy, stripped of all memories, even his own name, yet holding onto the essence of Annabeth. Envision their descent into Tartarus, surviving the abyss only through their bond. Annabeth, who loved Percy since they were twelve, faced betrayal from all she held dear, while Percy’s greatest weakness was his steadfast loyalty.

[ghafahey]

I want to stand with you in front of all the Daturma Ox things to come.

JESPER FAHEY and WYLAN HENDRICKS in Shadow and Bone ( 2021- )

[haughtwaversblog]

Thumb 🥺

[monteruu]

let's see how far we've come :)

[image id: digital illustration of john egbert, jade harley, rose lalonde, and dave strider from homestuck. they are all laying on a blue checkered picnic blanket laying on top of one another in a familiar manner and smiling.

john is at the center laughing heartily while jade is to the right laying down on her side. dave is to the left and is in a comfortable lounging position with one leg over one of john's and is resting his head in rose's lap who is smirking at john and jade's antics.

they are all in their respective godtier outfits. around them are some lush grassy hills with variously colored wildflowers spotting the landscape and the sburb sun setting behind them. end image id.]

[ontoheartache]

imagine you've just started a brand new job in a new city. your new captain seemed oddly enthusiastic about hiring you and the interview seemed more like an audition for a blind date.

you show up on your first day and notice three of your coworkers staring at you while you change. you introduce yourself and they seem nice, but the tall guy that looks suspiciously similar to your new captain is weirdly tense. you notice that he seems to only be that way towards you. this would be fine — you've experienced worse a hell of a lot farther from home than this — but he's your new partner, this is your job, and you've got a kid at home that is counting on you to make this work. so you try and you try and you try.

you're in an ambulance with your partner, and your patient has a live grenade round in his leg. you think that you should be worried — you might not ever leave this ambulance, after all — but something in the air has shifted. something between you and your partner — buck, his name is buck — is changing as the seconds pass. the round makes its way safely into the box, and the clink of metal hitting metal sounds a lot like pieces clicking into place.

you make it out of the ambulance. buck's looking at you like your face is a sunrise. you tell him he can have your back and you're surprised by how ardently you mean it. his smile is shy, bashful, when he says that maybe you could have his. you realize, slowly and suddenly, that you've just made a friend.

you don't realize until he's standing in front of you, handing you all of the answers in the form of a woman named carla, that you've just found your best friend.

you don't realize until he's standing in front of you, bloody and swaying on his feet at the sight of your son in your arms, that you've just found your son's best friend.

you don't realize until he's standing in front of you, rain soaked with mud-caked hands, that you've just found your life partner.

you don't realize until he's standing in front of you, your blood on his face and in his mouth, that you've just found the love of your life.

instead, you're standing in front of a burning ambulance. buck's eyes are a little too bright, his face softer than it's been the whole time you've known him. his smile comes easy. you look at him in the firelight and something flickers to life inside of your chest. you won't know what it is for a long time. you think, for the first time in a while, that you've got time to figure it out.

[wombywoo]

out on the town 🌃

[wolfchans]

BANG CHAN ♡ JJAM MV

[antigonesghosts]

What I loved about Cinderella's Castle is it is so entirely about Ella. We know starkid can handle a show with tons and tons of characters but I found it quite refreshing for it to be so wholly her story? I think it was a lovely choice for this show and man Bryce did such a perfect job of it, she is truly such a star

[juliaroseghost]

THE found family of all time.

[claudiadpdl]

imagine consuming a piece of media like iwtv and boiling it down to "the abuse show" and telling people they should kill themselves for caring about the romance of it (which is a fundamental part alongside the grieving and healing from the unavoidable loss of your child). i honestly do not know how someone could watch two entire seasons (assuming the books weren't read because there's no way you'd say something like that otherwise) and come away with that specific opinion. watching a fucked up show about fucked up people and an exploration of said fucked up-ness with this exhausting mindset of 'ethical correctness' only hurts you in the long run. and beyond that? media literacy needs to be a mandated class in grade school.

[suntails]

so do u remember in strawberry shortcake 2003 in the strawberry games when peppermint fizz was jealous of strawberry’s garden and wanted to win it for herself so she cheated in all the strawberry games to gain an advantage against powerful opposition to get what she wanted? and she was also clearly in love? yea

[foldingfittedsheets]

In my ongoing quest to befriend the local crows I sidled up to one outside the place I get my tasty bacon sandwiches. I tossed a peanut and it screamed and I instantly had a murder swooping all around me as I walked to my car.

It was probably the most badass I’ve ever felt in a parking lot to stand at the center of a shrieking crownado.

[suddencolds]

of painkillers and lenience

...hello! 😭 I wrote this way back in April; it's been sitting in my drafts ever since. Chronologically, it takes place shortly following Atypical Occurrence.

I wasn't sure if I was ever going to post this. I suppose it's more a character study than a proper romantic installment :') but it's an exchange I'd been wanting to write for a long time.

you can find everything I've written in this universe here!

—

Summary: Yves comes down with something. His best friend wonders where Vincent is, in all of this.

—

Perhaps it’s merciful that it’s on a Sunday that Yves wakes up with the slightest tickle in his throat.

Yves has an idea what it means. He’s had the flu enough times in his life to know that it comes on quickly. Maybe if he attempts to sleep it off, he’ll have a better time over the next few days.

Or maybe not. He cancels his Sunday plans, goes through his itinerary. There’s a slew of emails he��ll have to send off, a handful of meetings he’ll probably have to reschedule for this coming work week. He’ll need groceries, too, to last him the week—ideally something that won’t take too much effort to make. Resting now seems like it’d be a waste of time. Best to get everything over with before the illness has a chance to properly settle, he thinks. 

He really does mean to stop by the grocery store. It’s perhaps just the timing that doesn’t work out as planned. Between figuring out how to reschedule everything that’s coming up with work—figuring out who he can ask if he needs to reallocate any of his assignments to anyone else, rearranging things for clients, and getting all the paperwork in order—all of it takes him nearly two hours. He wanders into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, finds himself having to turn aside to cough, notes the unpleasant sting in his throat when he turns back around. 

It’s not terrible yet, but he feels distinctly off. His head feels a little heavy, and everything he does feels strangely—sluggish, maybe. Like he can’t quite manage to be as efficient as usual. Judging by past experience, he’s probably going to crash in a few hours.

He can already feel a headache brewing. Staring at his computer screen probably hasn’t helped with that. If he takes something for it, it’ll probably be at least tolerable when it gets worse.

He opens the medicine cabinet, rifles through the couple bottles and the first aid kit he has stashed in there.

Right. He’s out of Advil.

It’s no matter. Just a quick grocery trip, then—he can grab the rest of his groceries while he’s at it. Yves shuts the bathroom cabinet, grabs his wallet and keys, and makes it all the way to the doorstep outside when the wave of dizziness hits him.

All of a sudden, he feels a little lightheaded. Heat crawls up under his skin, prickling and unpleasant, as if something in him has cranked up the heat generation to the max—but that can’t be right, because he’s shivering inexplicably in the wake of it. He leans his weight back against the wall, squeezes his eyes shut.

Fuck. He probably should have gotten groceries first, before sorting out everything for work. Perhaps going out on his own now would not be the wisest.

He heads back in, locks the door, and—after some thought—calls Mikhail.

Mikhail picks up on the second ring. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Are you busy?” Yves starts, but the words catch on his throat, and he has to stop immediately to muffle a cough into his elbow. 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “It depends what you’re about to ask me for,” Mikhail says.

Yves swallows. Shuts his eyes. He doesn’t like asking for help, but he doesn’t think he’ll be in any state to be doing this on his own over the next few days. “It’s not that urgent. Just if you have time,” he says. 

He can almost feel Mikhail rolling his eyes on the other end. “You’d say that even if you were bleeding out.”

Yves laughs, startled. “I promise I’m not bleeding out. Just—do you think you could run to the store and get me some Advil?”

There’s another, longer pause on the other end. “Any time is fine,” Yves says. A part of him already regrets this. “If you’re busy right now—”

“I’ll be over in a few,” Mikhail says. Then the line goes dead.

—

He doesn’t remember drifting off, but when he wakes, it’s to a knock on the front door.

The knock is just for courtesy, of course. Mikhail is one of a few people whom he’s permitted the privilege—or the burden, perhaps—of having a spare copy of his apartment key.

Yves opens the door anyways.

There, in the windy April weather, Mikhail shuts an umbrella and leaves it dripping at his feet. “You look even worse than you sounded over call,” is the first thing he says.

Yves blinks at him, surprised. “Did I really sound that bad?”

In lieu of answering, Mikhail just looks at him, scrutinizing, the corner of his lip ticking downward. “What is it? An injury? A migraine?” When Yves shakes his head, Mikhail presses forward to pick a stray lint ball off of Yves’s shirt. His hand makes contact with Yves’s shoulder, and he frowns.

Before Yves has a chance to explain, he feels a tickle—not the first, today, and certainly not the last—surface. It’s irritatingly difficult to ignore, more irritating still when he finds himself forced to turn away, to duck into one arm—

“hHehh-!’ hEHh’yyiISCHh-HHEEW!”

The sneeze is rough enough to scrape against his throat. He coughs tightly into his raised arm.

“A cold,” Mikhail says, with a frown. “But usually you don’t take Advil for colds. Wait—don’t tell me this is something worse?”

Yves winces. What is he supposed to say to that? “The Advil was all I needed,” he says. “Thanks for making the trip. I owe you one.”

“No, I’m sure of it now,” Mikhail says. “If it were only a cold, you would’ve driven out to get this yourself.”

“It probably isn’t,” Yves says, neglecting to mention that he knows exactly where he caught this. “Thanks for bringing these. I’ll take the next couple days off. I—”

The next sneeze sneaks up on him. He ducks into his sleeve again, taking another step back.

“hHhEH’iiDzzsCHH-yYew!” The sneeze sends a burst of pain through his temples, and for a moment, he’s glad his face is too deeply buried into his sleeve for Mikhail to see.

“Does Vincent know?” Mikhail asks.

The question catches him off guard. “What?”

“That you’re apparently unwell enough to ask me to pick up Advil for you.”

Yves doesn’t like where this conversation is going. “I told you not to come if you were busy.”

“It’s not a problem,” Mikhail says. “But if you’re sick, shouldn’t he be over here, taking care of you?”

 “He’s had a really busy few weeks,” Yves says, which is true, but simultaneously might be true at any point during the year. He clears his throat. “I - coughcough - wouldn’t want him to catch this.”

“So he doesn’t even know,” Mikhail says.

…Perhaps Yves should’ve thought of a more convincing excuse. Mikhail isn’t the type of person to drop an issue after he’s raised it, and Yves had, perhaps, neglected to think about how—for all Mikhail does to appear casually disaffected—he’s one of the most perceptive people Yves has ever met. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“What are you talking about? He’s your partner. I’ll text him,” Mikhail says. It’s then when Yves recalls that Mikhail probably does have Vincent’s contact—exchanged before their trip to France, so that he could text them all to coordinate the rides to and from the airport.

“Wait,” Yves says, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. “Don’t. If you text him, he’ll - snf-! - feel obligated to come.”

Mikhail doesn’t lower his phone. “I’ll just ask him to drop by,” he says. “You can talk to him about it when he gets there.”

But that won’t happen—can’t happen—because Yves knows that if Vincent were to see him like this… 

I’d feel terrible if you caught this, he’d said. He’d sounded so upset over it. How can Yves, after all his reassurances last week, admit to him now that he’s faring badly enough to need someone to look after him? 

Besides, Vincent probably has enough on his plate already. Yves knows enough to know that in their line of work, taking time off almost always means being swamped with assignments upon return. 

“Please don’t ask him anything,” Yves says.

Mikhail looks long and hard at him. He looks as though he’s trying to puzzle something out. “Did you guys get into a fight, or something?”

“No,” Yves says. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then, if you’re on good terms, why are you so resistant to the idea of him coming over?”

Yves squeezes his eyes shut, and then opens them. He can think of a dozen more excuses to field away the questions—that isn’t the hard part. Mikhail has always been good at seeing through his bullshit, but if Yves has to steer this conversation to a close through sheer willpower, he thinks he can do it. But then again—

Maybe it’s fine, he thinks, if Mikhail knows. For better or for worse, Mikhail is his best friend. Yves knows that if he asks him to keep his mouth shut about this, he will. 

“Vincent is my coworker,” he says, slowly.

Mikhail’s eyebrows creep up. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yves says, with a cough. “He is just my coworker. Nothing else.”

The alarm that flashes across Mikhail’s face is unmissable. “You two broke up?”

And there it is—another crossroads, where Yves thinks the easiest course of action would be to reshape the current lie into a simpler one, to keep the trappings of their fake relationship intact. With anyone else, it would be easier, that is.

Yves says, honestly, “We were never together in the first place.”

“But you went with him to France,” Mikhail says, confused. “Not to mention, to Margot’s new year party, and then to Joel and Cherie’s housewarming. Are you telling me—”

“That was all an act,” Yves tells him, and waits for this information to register. “There is nothing between us that’s real. That’s the reason I haven’t called him.”

The recognition settles on Mikhail’s face. Then he laughs, a little disbelieving. “You’re really not dating him? Why would you lie about that?”

“Do you remember Margot’s party?” Yves asks. It seems like the right place to start, after everything. “Erika was there with Brendon. And I was bitter, and—to be honest, jealous—and I wanted to show her I was fine. So I asked Vincent to go with me.”

“That was months ago,” Mikhail says.

“It was easier to just keep up the act, after that.” Yves says. “Easier to have him accompany me once a month than it would have been to stage a proper breakup. But obviously, this is all temporary. I just haven’t figured out when it’s going to end.”

Mikhail is quiet for a moment. Yves looks past him, at the staircase that leads down to the first floor.

“You’ll be fine, then,” he asks. “If you two break it off.”

“Of course,” Yves says. “I know it’s going to happen someday.”

“You won’t be upset at all?”

“What is there to be upset over?”

“From the way you spoke to him, I really thought there was something there,” Mikhail says.

“He is a good liar,” Yves says.

“Maybe so,” Mikhail agrees. “But you are not.”

He says it so calmly, it barely registers as an accusation. But Yves hears it, loud and clear.

“Vincent is attractive,” Yves says. “Anyone with eyes can see that. That’s all there is to it.” it feels wrong, even as he says it. Yves has always known Vincent to be attractive—that much hasn’t changed. But he knows that the feeling in his chest when he sees him at work, in the break room, or at lunch—the unusual ache—is a little more than that. 

“Margot’s party was at the end of December,” Mikhail says. “It’s April, now. Margot wouldn’t tell you this, but since I don’t like withholding my feelings from you, I will.”

Yves waits—waits for Mikhail to tell him how all of this has been unduly dishonest, how Mikhail doesn’t appreciate having been lied to.

But Mikhail doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says: “If you’re still intent on keeping this fake relationship up…” Here, he meets Yves’s eyes, a little sternly. “You should think about who you’re really doing it for.”

It’s only for convenience, Yves wants to say. Now that we’ve set things up already, it’s merely the path of least resistance. But that isn’t quite right, is it?

“Don’t worry about me,” Yves says, trying a smile. “Vincent and I have talked this through already. Whatever happens with our arrangement, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Mikhail says. He pockets his phone, and then hands Yves the bottle of Advil. “Sorry for the interrogation, then. If you believe it to be fine, I trust you.” Perhaps that’s the worst part of it. Mikhail has never been the type of person to stay quiet about any foreseeable problems, but Yves knows that his agreement now is not a tactical retreat, nor is it an acknowledgment that it’s not worth arguing over something they won’t agree on. Mikhail is dropping the subject because he really trusts him.

Yves just doesn’t know if that trust is justified.

Mikhail turns on his heels, steps delicately past the hinge at the bottom of the doorframe. 

Yves clears his throat. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Mikhail nods. “Feel better soon. If you need anything other than Advil, just give me a call.”

Then he’s gone. Yves shuts the front door behind him and wonders just what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

[black-pussy-supreme]

I will never be over these two. Ever.

[feelingtheaster99]

Okay okay okay, so in THIS EPISODE ALONE we got all these Percabeth moments:

Annabeth has complete faith that Percy is alive

When Percy is proven alive, he starts to apologize, thinking she’s be mad but she interrupts him with a hug that is so nice Grover has to clear his throat to get their attention again

Percy brings up the hug like five minutes later so obviously it’s still on his mind

Percy calls her his friends (side note—how SAD is it that he is unsure whether or not friends hug). She also calls him her friend many times this episode

Percy is shocked Annabeth hasn’t seen a movie and sets to rectify it after the quest

Annabeth calmly Annabeths her way out of Hephaestus’s decoy trap, calming Percy down in the process

They joke about the Tunnel of Love ride but still choose to ride it

Percy saves Annabeth using his water powers

Percabeth and Annabeth argue because they BOTH want to sacrifice their life for the other

The first seaweed brain mention in the show!!!

Percy convinces Annabeth to let him make the sacrifice by appealing to logic and saying she’s better at it than him

Without being prompted, Annabeth promises to save Percy’s mom from Hades and tells him he didn’t even have to ask for her to come back to save him

He GIVES her Riptide and gives a sad little smile when she agrees to come back

Percy SACRIFICES himself for her, AGAIN

As soon as Percy starts to feel the trap effects, Annabeth starts crying and BEGGING him to get up

While Annabeth is freaking out, all he does is REASSURE HER. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.” (This BOY I simply CANNOT)

Annabeth disregards the fallen shield and immediately tries to figure out how to rescue him

Annabeth rejects her mom’s potential praise and argues with a GOD (Hephaestus) because she says Percy is simply too GOOD of a person and a friend to leave without, to leave behind (she also has a really cool personal reflection during this moment but that’s another post)

This is a smile thing, but she looks simply SO RELIEVED when Hephaestus frees Percy

We are being BLESSED with Percabeth 😭