#and yes i am still baffled and salty about it

[local-gay]

oh surrrrrreee, james somerton can lie, cheat, and steal his way to success, but i use the word "idiosyncrasies" once in an essay about MY OWN LIFE in 6th grade and get accused of plagiarism

[suckinitup]

gets up on my little stage with my secret little four followers blog and turns off reblogs. i think that a lot of current mcyt/mcyt fandom rn would be defending anne rice literally suing fanfic writers who shipped her characters. creators do not have a say in fan works or fan spaces for a REASON. they dont get to say what we make just like we dont get to say what they make. if we dont like their work we can avoid it just like if they dont like ours they can avoid it- UNLESS. someone else. decides to shove it in their face. can you fucking imagine. youve got this one story trope that you absolutely hate or that makes you really uncomfortable and this one jackass keeps showing it off to you. and that is somehow the norm for some of these fandoms??? i have seen elder fans cringe away in HORROR at the concept of how involved mcyt creators are in their fanbases. i grew up writing fics plastered with "I DONT OWN THIS" disclaimers on a website that, straight up, Did Not Allow You to post about certain works by certain authors. if an author didn't want you to create any fanwork, you Were Not Allowed. Doesn't that sound familiar. stories are built on top of other stories on top of other stories on top of other stories. it doesn't matter if someone creates something that grosses you out- all those authors who were disgusted by the queer shipping of their characters were ABSOLUTELY grossed out. the point isn't protecting the creators from others' creations the point is to take inspiration from something you love and to MAKE !!

[fruitcoops]

could you PLEASE write the fic where coops break the bed bc I would love to read how that went down

I'd love to! This is a reference to part three of this fic, and the prompt was combined with asks for another jealous Sirius and seeing Remus in his game day suit for the first time. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut (including blowjobs)

The lock slid home and Sirius’ knees hit the floor.

“Wh—okay,” Remus laughed as Sirius fumbled his belt open and yanked the zipper of his dress pants—fucking dress pants, is he trying to kill me?—as far as it could go without ripping straight down the middle. Slender fingers combed through his hair; some of the shock must have worn off, because he could feel a growing bulge under his cheek as he nuzzled the dip of Remus’ hipbone.

“Nobody looks at you like I do,” he said, licking a broad stripe up the front of Remus’ boxers. They were the nice kind, soft and tight—he wanted to tear them off.

Remus, for his part, looked both baffled and quite happy. “No, they do not,” he agreed, giving the back of Sirius’ hair a light tug. “And nobody looks as good as you down there.”

“You’re goddamn right they don’t.” Without further ado, Sirius pulled his dick out of his boxers and did his best to inhale it.

“Jesus fucking—” Remus’ hand slammed into the wall with a sharp gasp. His knee buckled, but Sirius gripped his thigh and pushed it against the wall. “Holy shit, baby, give me some warning.”

Sirius leaned back and let the tip slide out through his lips for just a moment, reveling in the slackjawed awe on Remus’ face. “No.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” Remus’ voice cracked as he thudded his head back against the wall and began lightly rolling his hips per Sirius’ request, huffing each time Sirius tightened his hold on his ass.

“Game suit,” Sirius managed as he slid off to bite the hollow between Remus’ hip and thigh, drawing a whimper from him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, shouting mine, mine, mine with each pulse. “Game suit and those fucking fans.”

Remus’ chest heaved as he took him all the way to the base again, holding Sirius by the hair the way that always sent lightning down his spine. He spread his knees slightly on the floor and palmed himself through his pants without breaking pace. “Are you—ah—are you upset or happy? ‘cause this is great and I’m not complaining but—oh holy fuck.”

Warm, slightly sweaty palms shoved him away by the forehead. Sirius made a noise of protest that turned into a grumble when his mouth was finally empty, and he batted Remus’ hands away. “What?”

“Two seconds.” Remus’ pupils were dilated so far they almost hid the pretty amber that turned dark with lust. “You look so good down there, baby, but I’m gonna come and I’m really confused why.”

“I want to make you come,” Sirius explained, moving back towards him only to be guided away again. Obviously. “Remus!”

“What is the occasion?” he asked, a little desperate. “What did I do?”

Sirius sat back on his heels with an irritated exhale and held up three fingers. “You, in general. Game suit. Fans. May I please finish what I was doing.”

If possible, Remus looked even more lost. “The fans? What about the fans? Why do they entail an amazing blowjob?”

“Because.” Sirius pulled his pants down enough to suck a mark on the thickest muscle of Remus’ thigh. He was salty and sweet and perfect. “Because they were looking at you like they wanted to eat you, and that’s my job.”

“I—” Remus opened and closed his mouth twice, then leaned back against the wall with an aborted muss of his hair. “Yeah, okay. I kind of want to get you off too, though, ‘cause you look like sin on legs in that blazer and I would hate to waste it.”

Sirius Black, why did you commit yourself to someone so selfless. He took his mouth off the underside of Remus’ dick and hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the protests of his plane-tired muscles. “Then we’d better get upstairs.”

“Upstairs? But—” Remus’ eyes widened and a slow smile spread over his face and he pulled his pants back up. “Yeah, yeah, okay, yes, right now.”

“Right now,” Sirius confirmed, taking him by the wrist to hustle them both up to their bedroom. He gave Remus’ ass a solid smack before scooting around him to flop backward on the bed, tangling their legs together until he could wrap himself around Remus and kiss him like he deserved. Hard and sloppy and so dizzying Sirius had to catch his breath when they broke apart. “Now.”

“Huh?” Remus coughed, still ruffled and red-lipped.

Sirius took his face between his hands and felt Remus go weak on top of him. “Fuck me. Right now. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and you don’t do this with any of those people undressing you with their eyes today.”

I’m the one that’s going to be walking funny tomorrow, Sirius reminded himself as he expertly unbuttoned Remus’ shirt and shoved both that and the navy jacket off his golden shoulders. Not the moon-eyed women twirling their hair, not the chiseled men with their fucking smirks, not the people in the comments marveling at that pretty face. Me. Mine.

Remus made a funny sort of whimpering noise as he pushed Sirius’ shirt open and attached himself to his neck, biting and licking in equal measure as Sirius divested them both of their pants. He leaned back to catch his breath, but Sirius reeled him back in by the blue tie still around his neck and tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny curls, crushing them together while he pushed his hips up for any friction and basked in Remus’ moans. Mine. Yours.

“Lube,” Remus said against his mouth, breathless. The temperature of the room had to be a hundred degrees, Sirius was sure of it; they were both sweating already, but he couldn’t let go of Remus for more than a second at a time. He needed the contact. Needed the feeling of drowning in his touch.

“Mine,” he said, nipping Remus’ bottom lip before letting him go enough that he could reach the nightstand.

“Yours,” Remus promised. He kept one hand splayed over the side of Sirius’ neck as they kissed; the other popped the cap off the lube and hoisted Sirius’ leg further to the side. “Ready?”

“Go.”

He threw his head back when two—two!—slick fingers pressed against him, opening him at the wonderful intersection between a snail’s pace and an uncomfortable sting. Remus moved his free hand down to hold Sirius’ hip; his weight pressed him into the mattress, and Sirius was sure that he would burn up at any moment.

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth when Remus’ fingers found his prostate. His ears began to buzz as Remus rubbed the pads of his fingers over it in relentless circles, not pushing, just giving him enough friction to go mad with it.

Teeth skimmed his collarbone and Sirius shivered when wet lips trailed over his nipple. “Get on your stomach.”

“Wanna see you.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand wasn’t damp when he curled it around Sirius’ jaw and guided him to meet his eyes. “On your damn stomach.”

Sirius was not proud of the half-breath sound that escaped him, but he wasn’t ashamed either. He got on his damn stomach, and he did it with a smile. “What now?”

“Hold the headboard.”

He obliged and felt Remus run a hand down the curve of his spine before sliding two fingers back into him. Sirius arched, grinning at the waves of pleasure rolling through his stomach. “We don’t have games for two days,” he said, flipping his hair back to look at Remus over his shoulder.

Amber eyes roved up and down his body with an appreciative gleam before Remus pressed a kiss to the small of his back. “I know. Hold on, baby.”

A shiver ran through Sirius’ limbs; he flexed his fingers on the wood of the headboard and sighed when something much more blunt than a few fingers pushed inside him in a slow, continuous motion. “Tabarnak,” he muttered, mouth agape as Remus found his seat and pushed down even harder on his lower back. His spine was going to ache in the morning, and he didn’t care a bit.

“Why were you upset about the fans?” he asked with a slow roll of his hips that left Sirius shuddering. “You know I don’t pay attention to that.”

“Comment section,” he panted, gritting his teeth against a loud moan. “And I could hear them when you walked by.”

“What were they saying?”

“Everything.” Sirius’ thighs trembled on the hard thrust that followed. “Everything, everything—how good you looked. That suit, Remus, I can’t handle it.”

A beat of silence passed, save for the creaking of the bed beneath them. “Say it again.”

“You looked—”

“Not that,” Remus interrupted, sliding his hands along Sirius’ sides and back down his thighs. “You want me to be yours? Then say my name.”

“Remus,” he breathed.

“What was that?”

“Remus,” he repeated, a little louder. It came out as a whine and Remus bent down to bite the junction of his shoulder as he gripped the headboard with white knuckles.

“Again.”

The word was punctuated by a yank on Sirius’ hips paired with a thrust that sparked fireworks in his eyes. “Remus!” he almost shouted, half in shock.

“Atta boy.” Strong arms wound around his abdomen, pulling him impossibly closer to Remus’ front as he rocked in and out and stole Sirius’ breath from his lungs. Feather-soft lips traced from one shoulder to the middle of his back, leaving open-mouthed kisses in their wake that were cold against the flames in Sirius’ gut. His arms were already shaking.

“Remus,” he begged, though he didn’t even know what to ask for. He was so hard it almost hurt—spreading his exhausted knees to try and sink down onto the mattress did absolutely nothing to help him. “Remus.”

“No,” Remus ordered when he tried to take one hand off the headboard and stroke himself to relieve the pressure. Sirius let out something akin to a sob despite the distilled joy and pleasure running riot through him. “Headboard. Now.”

“I am.”

Remus’ breath was hot against his ear. “Don’t get bratty with me.”

Sirius had never come untouched before, but he wondered if it felt like this. Unfortunately, he was still painfully close to the edge and Remus insisted on dragging over his sweet spot every—fucking—time, so he was stuck in a horribly fantastic limbo that bent every cell to Remus’ will.

It was exactly what he had been after from the second the front door locked behind them.

“Come on, baby.” Remus made a low sound in his throat as Sirius clamped down around him at the nickname and upped his pace by a degree. “Come on, you can do it.”

“Quoi—what d’you want?” Sirius asked, dropping his chin to his chest with a moan.

Fingers wound into his hair and pulled his head up again, gentle but unyielding. There was never any pain when Remus was in charge, only the feeling of being entirely encompassed. It didn’t matter what position they were in—Sirius could be on the bottom, top, sideways, anywhere, and still feel cared for in every aspect.

“Fucking love you,” he mumbled, voice breaking as Remus’ hand slid through his hair to trail along his neck and wind around his chest.

He could feel the smile pressing into his shoulder blade as Remus left a mark there between world-shattering rolls of his hips. “Love you, too. You know you can come whenever, right?”

“Touch me.”

“Tell me three things and I will,” Remus all but purred into the arch of his neck. Sirius nodded frantically. “What color was I wearing today?”

“Blue,” he managed through clumsy lips. “Dark blue, ‘s perfect on you, oh.”

“Two: how many times have I worn that suit?”

Sirius stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow. “Once.”

“Last question.” Remus licked the salt from the crest of his shoulder and Sirius’ vision went for a moment; he gripped the headboard like it was his only anchor on earth. “Who is the only person in the world I will ever love like this?”

“Oh, fuck, me.”

A palm, broad and callused, wrapped around his shaft and gathered the precome that had been dripping onto the sheets for a glide so smooth Sirius thought he was dreaming. Then the world caught up to him at light speed and he was gone, tumbling over the edge with a shout and throwing his weight forward while Remus guided him through every ripple down his back as he reached his own peak.

Crack—crunch.

Sirius yelped as his knuckles hit the wall, pulling back on instinct despite the fact that he had nowhere to go but down. Remus cursed into his shoulder and they hit the pillows in a mess of limbs and sweat; Sirius pulled his hands to his chest as the smarting pain began to fade. “Ow,” he said, bewildered and pitiful.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Remus pulled out with a slight wince and carefully took his hands, pressing kisses over the reddened skin before horror overtook his face. “Did I—was that sound your hands?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his flushed cheek. “It wasn’t me. I think…”

Remus blinked at him. “Did we…”

“That was the headboard.” A smile tugged the edges of his mouth until Sirius gave in and began to laugh, shifting back onto his stomach for a proper look. Sure enough, the wooden board at the top of their bed was both sideways and several inches further down the wall than it had been when they started their venture.

“Oh my god,” Remus spluttered, still laughing as he tried to pull it back into the right spot. “Jesus, this thing is heavy.”

“We broke the bed,” Sirius snickered. It was so beyond unbelievable that he couldn’t help it. “After all this time, it finally gave in. Mon dieu. I can’t…I don’t even know where to start.”

“We broke the headboard,” Remus corrected with a grin. “Well, you broke it.”

“If you try to pin this all on me—”

“I had you pinned pretty well a minute—”

“Remus John Lupin—”

They dissolved into laughter, bordering on hysteria as they fell back onto the sheets. The headboard groaned at the impact, setting off a whole new round with no hope of letting them catch their breath.

“So,” Remus managed once his lungs were functioning again. He quirked an eyebrow at Sirius with a troublemaker’s smirk. “The suit?”

“The suit,” Sirius huffed, shaking his head. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Now you know how I feel all the friggin’ time.”

He sighed through his nose and stared upside-down at the cracked wood. “We’ll need to replace that.”

“Mhmm. And never tell the guys about it, ever.”

Sirius ran a hand down his face. “They’d bring it up at our funerals.”

“Is there a way to get just the headboard? Do we need to buy a whole new frame?”

His jaw crackled as he yawned, wrapping both arms around Remus to drag him over for a snuggle. “Those questions can wait until tomorrow. Or at least after a nap.”

“How about a shower and a nap?”

“Definitely a shower,” Sirius agreed, burying his face in the bend of Remus’ neck. “After a nap.”

“Come on, cuddlebug,” Remus groaned, giving him a halfhearted pull. “You hate the feeling of cum on your legs.”

“I just broke a plank of wood with my bare hands,” Sirius mumbled into his soft skin. “I can handle a few extra minutes of cuddles.”

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here bestie *deep sigh*. I take back my comment yesterday about wanting promo person who chooses the final clip fired, if anything they are the only one on the promo team waving red flags at viewers and shouting "This shit is what you'll actually be watching!!!". I'm not saying there wasn't good stuff last night but it's sadly overshadowed , in many ways by all the BS. Eddie's breakdown was incredible (thank you Ryan Guzman) but we should have had sooo much more of it instead of it TBC

being awkwardly shoved in (and probably some beautiful scenes cut) at the end. Loved all the reunions, hated that they seemed like an afterthought and were barely given time to happen while entire conversations we should have seen were just mentioned. And then there is Buck's entire storyline which I 1000% hate. They were actually going to have BL flirting on the job while BT was still happening before the backlash??!! Who the actually fuck thought THAT was a good idea? Also if that is the "toned down" Lucy content we're going to be getting it's going to be a long 6 episodes, really don't need to watch another show where they shove a behated character who is just the bestest thing to ever happen to everyone ever down my throat at every turn. Anyway, sorry this is just bitter and salty, I'll find us a song to honor Eddie's meltdown soon, after I've had a day or two to get over it. Hope your hanging in there better than I am!!

Oh bestie I am....not doing well 🙃🙃🙃 I'm just....GOD I'm so fucking baffled at what we are watching right now. The reunion stuff I kinda got, it was a quick way to show Maddie and Chim connecting with their loved ones while also getting the scoop (and reminding the audience since it's been nearly a month since 5x11) of everything they missed. And I'm glad Buck and Maddie were just happy to see each other and they DID have some good talks but...I don't know it just felt like something was still missing in all of that. She left for six months and yeah Buck got some updates but they haven't really talked and maybe I thought it would be more emotional? I don't know. I did notice Chim saying things with Buck were fine but Buck clearly doesn't think so, so despite what KR said, I'm going to hold a tiny sliver of hope that we might get a little talk between them or a hug-it-out moment.

But not getting to see the Eddie/Bobby apology, especially after what Eddie said? That one frustrates me a lot. And we might get an even better reconciliation scene later (I'm thinking maybe May Day) but if they have plans to do a big reconciliation scene later, then we don't need to be told and not shown now that Eddie apologized, but it just feels like big things are missing. Same with the Madney breakup happening off screen! We had "I got out of the ocean for you" and then they decide to just totally call it quits off screen?! After Chim sat in front of that hospital for months waiting for her and refused to go home without her?! Again, I get that they needed time and I'm not worried about them getting a good reconciliation, but we could have had another "we just need a minute" moment where they decide that they still need space and to adjust to being back in LA for now, and they will work on the rest as it comes instead of a full "we're just too different now" breakup coming out of nowhere, on the heels of such a beautiful episode for them!

As for the Eddie breakdown, yes we got a LOT of good stuff out of that, but it absolutely should have been longer. I hate that my fear about the Eddie breakdown was true which is that they would show Buck getting there and seeing Eddie, and then cut to him being calmed down and talking to Buck. And I know we are going to get more of the aftermath in the next episode(s) but it was so weird the way it looks like they cut it off in the middle of the scene?! What was that? We had time for a billion scenes with girlboss and firebarbie but not for the actual main character that we want to see?? Oliver, Gavin, and especially Ryan were phenomenal and I wanted more! We could have actually seen Eddie in the room breaking stuff! We could have seen Buck comforting him, or even seen him pulling back because he doesn't believe he deserves comfort right now, and telling Buck he's okay and to go check on Chris and give him a minute. I was so hoping we would get enough material to excite us and have a good song choice but I'm left feeling a bit deflated at the moment. The scene was amazing, and what we got delivered, but the emotional weight it could have had is constantly undercut by all the other nonsense going on. WHY is KR so allergic to letting the main characters BE main characters?! We spent so much time on the set up for the spider call than on Eddie breaking down?! Whyyyy?!?!?!

As for girlboss and firebarbie I just....HOW IN THE FUCK did we get both a season 2 m*ria AND a season 3 m*ria at the same time?! And it's going to drag out for the rest of the goddamn season?!?! Hard fucking pass. What was even the point of that talk with Maddie and Buck admitting he did a dumb thing, a thing he wouldn't have done had he been given the slightest indication that he could have Maddie there instead, and admitting he was clinging for the wrong reasons, only for it to lead nowhere?! For him to double fucking down and say no he wants her there and wants to make it work?! How can they keep dragging down one of their best and purest cinnamon roll characters into this mess that no one wants to see?! Also, tay "the truth is everything" kay suddenly doesn't care about cheating or if Buck tells her or not?! Although considering she only has him around because she likes having someone to boss around (the couch scene was SO gross) who she knows won't leave because he has abandonment issues (sound familiar? Hello season 2 m*ria it's not nice to see you again), it shouldn't be too surprising. And as for L...what is the fucking point?! Every single thing she did on that call? That was Buck's job on the calls, to be the one with the out-of-the-box thinking and random knowledge. And instead, he's now reduced to fumbling around in the background so she can be Super Cool And Take Charge. Again, why is KR allergic to letting the characters do the things we fell in love with them doing?! We could be seeing Buck doing what he does best after spending SO much of his time this whole season languishing away in that loft with his dead relationship that they refuse to put in the ground and instead keep dressing up the corpse like we can't all smell that it's rotten. L is so utterly superfluous, and her taking shots at CHIM of all people?! What the fuck? (again, familiar? Season 3 m*ria making her appearance being useless and putting other people down for no reason. For real it is ON SIGHT for her making snide remarks about Howard fucking Han, the heart of the 118. She needs to GTFO)

I said 5x13 would give us an idea of how much we were going to have to see her and in what capacity compared to them cutting her out of the promo, and I guess we have our answer. And they might have shifted the narrative after the backlash to her and Buck having "sweet" moments together where they learn from each other (but I thought she already knew everything?) and trying to play it off as a friendship now, but a) they already kissed, it's going to taint every single future interaction for the audience even if they brush it off in the show, and b) if it's not important then why the fuck did it need to happen in the first place when Buck already has a million reasons he's unhappy with his gf? Either they teased it as something it wasn't ever meant to be and put in the kiss for "shock value" (because watching a fan favorite cheat and lie is so much fun 🙄) or they are focusing on the angles that make it look like more of a friendship maybe? but they clearly aren't cutting her screen time down, and her and tay kay are definitely going to meet which just makes me feel sick. No matter if L ends up only being a "friend" all here scenes with Buck will still be gross because of that kiss, and more importantly she is not needed. It's not enjoyable to watch her take scenes from other characters like Buck who we desperately want to see back to doing those things like he used to instead of just being mired in this triangle drama.

Sorry, this got long and ranty but I'm trying to get the bad feelings out so I can enjoy the good stuff. Some people are rant first, enjoy after, some are enjoy first, rant after and I'm just a metronome swinging wildly between elation and despair. BUT if you have a song, bestie I will have an answer and we can get through this together! We survived RNM, THAT episode and seasons 2 and 3 m*ria, we can survive this too!

[sigmaleph]

@serinemolecule asked me for hot takes on this 2006 article on Argentinian food, which I am now reorganising into a proper post for y'all's consumption. you're welcome.

First of all: the titular thesis that you should eat two steaks a day. I am forced to clarify that as 'should's go you should eat zero steaks a day, but this is ethical rather dietary advice and I don't follow it as well as I should, so, y'know. I would engage with this on the level it was stated, but I actually have no opinion on it. Moving on...

Argentine beef really is extraordinary. Almost all of this has to do with how the cows are raised. There are no factory feedlots in Argentina; the animals still eat pampas grass their whole lives, in open pasture, and not the chicken droppings and feathers mixed with corn that pass for animal feed in the United States.

This is, as it happens, completely false. There absolutely is plenty of feedlot beef being eaten in Argentina, and this was also the case back when this article was written. There's grass-fed beef too, and maybe the writer structured their life around only eating those, but the claim that there are no feedlots is just not true.

if you let them make the call, you get a two-inch thick of meat[...]The Argentine steak stands alone, towering three inches over the plate,[...]This gorgeous specimen is called a lomito; it's a standard lunchtime steak, clearly so thin that the Argentines are embarrassed to send it out into the world without a protective wrapping of ham and cheese

I have no idea what their obsession with steak thickness is; meat exists at various levels of thick and thin to suit various tastes. If you like yours thick that's fine but quit the projecting, y'know.

As you might expect, vegetarians will have a somewhat rough time here. For most people in Argentina, a vegetarian is something you eat. One's diet will accordingly lean heavily on pastas, gnocchi, salads, and (for the less squeamish ) fish. Vegans will not survive in Argentina.

This is, unfortunately, true (well, hyperbole, but). Rinna had a rather bad time trying to find vegan food when fae came over for visits. The situation is improving slowly, at least.

The homemade cookies bought in the minimarket downstairs taste of steak. [picture of alfajores de maicena[

Jesus. Find somewhere better to buy your snacks.

It should be no surprise that the land of beef also has excellent milk and butter. The milk comes in plastic bags that would give any American marketing department a heart attack. They proudly advertise "GUARANTEED 100% BRUCELLOSIS AND HOOF-AND-MOUTH FREE". One brand even brags that its bacteria count never exceeds 100,000 per mL, and prints daily statistics to prove it (only 82,000 bacteria/mL on Monday! mmm!).

Are you under the impression American milk doesn't contain bacteria and that when it spoils it's because of the molecules' sheer willpower? Or do you just object to the reminder that they exist?

This menu is delicious, but with rare exceptions it is all you are going to get. People coming for more than a few weeks are advised to bring a discreet bottle of Tabasco sauce.

Eat at better restaurants.

With any order from the master menu comes the Bread Basket, which should be treated as you would treat a basket of wax fruit, that is, as a purely decorative ornament. It is considered bad form to actually eat anything from Bread Basket

What are you talking about. Do all your dining companions just suck, eat some bread.

Dulce de leche is a culinary cry for help. It says "save us, we are baffled and alone in the kitchen, we don't know what to do for dessert and we're going to boil condensed milk and sugar together until help arrives". This cloying dessert tar is so impossibly sweet that you wish you were ten years old again, just so you could actually enjoy it. It is everywhere. There is a special dulce de leche shelf in the supermarket dairy case, and the containers go up to a liter in size. Even the churros are stuffed with it - the churros, Montresor!

It is rare that I feel insulted for the sake of my country, but this? How dare you.

Yes, of course we fill churros with dulce de leche; the real question is why anyone doesn't, short of dietary restrictions. Finding out that people do otherwise was like learning that in other countries, "sandwich" just means two slices of bread. Live a little. Eat a real godsdamned churro.

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how meals work in Argentina, and they remain a mystery to me. Dinner is clear enough: people tend to go to restaurants beginning at ten o'clock (for those with small children), with the main rush around eleven, and dinner is pretty much over at one or so in the morning. And breakfast - or rather, its absence - follows as a logical consequence of eating a steak the size of a beagle at midnight. But I have yet to figure out whether people eat some kind of meal in the afternoon, and if so, when.

At... noon? Like. We eat lunch. Usually somewhere around 12:00. I am eating lunch right now, and I have done so essentially every day of my life. This is just baffling.

I've come to think the culprit in the missing Argentine lunch scene is yerba mate.

how.

Where the ignorant foreigner may see just another kind of herbal tea (yerba mate is a very unassuming shrub that grows in the northern parts of the country) the Argentine sees a taste treat of unimaginable subtlety, and a tonic for all his problems. The Wikipedia article on proper mate preparation should give you a warning of the level of obsessiveness attainable here (the Urugayans are even worse). To the virgin palate, mate tastes like green tea mixed with grass clippings. The beverage is traditionally drunk out of a little gourd, through a metal straw called a bombilla, with hot (but not boiling!!) water poured into it (without wetting the surface!! clockwise!!) from a thermos.

Yeah, this is accurate. Well, not the clockwise part, never heard anyone complain about that and I can't imagine it mattering.

What distinguishes mate from coffee and tea is the social context - two or more people share a gourd, with a designated pourer in charge of refilling it with hot water after each turn. The ritual is low-fuss but indispensible. You can buy mate gourds and thermoses in any grocery store, and get your thermos filled with hot water at any convenience store or gas station, but you will never see mate served in restaurants or sold in little disposable paper gourds, to go. it's not that people refuse to drink mate alone - anyone working a solitary shift will have a gourd in hand - but that the concept of being served mate by someone who does not share it with you seems impossible.

This is also true. Attempts have been made to sell to-go mate but it's never very popular, the social ritual is important. Also unfortunately a disease vector, I haven't had any mate in a year and a half.

Mate aficionados will tell you that mate contains a special compound, mateine, that serves as a tonic and mild stimulant, promoting alertness without making it hard to sleep, reducing fatigue and appetite, helping the digestion and serving as a mild diuretic. Scientists will tell you that mateine bears a suspicious resemblance to a chemical called caffeine. Mate aficionados will then grow indignant, explaining that mateine is really a stereoisomer (mirror image) of caffeine, with different effects, which will in turn irritate the scientists, who will snap that caffeine doesn't have a chiral center, so it can't have a distinguishable mirror image, and why don't the mate aficionados just put a sock in it.

The first part of this is true; some people definitely think "mateine" is different from caffeine and it absolutely isn't. Never heard the stereoisomer claim before but googling it does confirm some people say so.

still have no idea what any of this has to do with lunch, though. I promise you nobody skips lunch because mate is just too filling.

The wine here is very good (something has to stand up to that steak), but Argentina has no liquor to call its own, relying on whiskies like Old Smuggler and the low-maintenance Don Juan cognac to carry the flag.

There's a fundamental omission from this list and it's called fernet.

Beer is ubiquitous and comes in a bewildering variety of sizes, although there is a skittishness about the full-on liter. Things level off at 970 mL. In my case, it means I end up drinking 1940 mL of beer as a kind of personal protest, and all is well with the world. To make up for the abundance of sizes, beer comes in only one variety, Quilmes, which inevitably comes served with a tripartite platter of snacks - nuts, salty cylinders, and aged potato chips.

I never had trouble buying beer by the litre, but I confess I never tried to do so in 2006 on account of being under 18 at the time.

Anyway, beer comes in a lot more varieties today, thankfully, because Quilmes sucks. I'll never be a beer person, but at least these days there's options I tolerate.

[original post]

[teresa-moyocoyotzin]

short recap of my thoughts on 5x09

okay so i was gonna rewatch the whole episode and do a blow-by-blow reaction post but i’m not sure i’ll have time and i kinda wanna focus on watching my fave scenes from the show before tonight. also, everyone else’s reaction posts p. much sum up my thoughts lol 

nonetheless, i just wanted to give my main takeaways on the episode a week later, in case anyone cares where i’m at going into the finale! gonna go over the things i liked first, anyone who wants to just remain positive and not see any salty takes might wanna just stick to reading the first part b/c i definitely rant a bit at the end lmao. we’re still having a fun time tho 😂

THINGS I LOVED

- i mean... i think we know LOL

- obviously. i loved james and teresa’s i love you scenes, and kisses, and OOF THAT SEX SCENE. if someone had told me we were gonna get that scene back in like 2017??? i probably would have started literally floating. i totally respect that people had very specific ideas of what they wanted out of those scenes and could have different feelings about it but NOT ME BABES I AM ECSTATIC!!! i did go into the episode with a ~feeling~ that we were gonna get at least one ILY in the episode, and i just had a feeling it would be james, or at least that he would say it first. i’ve already explained in my meta about the scenes why i think it makes sense that he said it first and why i love it that he did, so i won’t go into that here. but i went in having really no expectations for it other than that it was gonna happen! i was debating about whether it would happen really casually while they’re talking, or in like a big action scene, or really dramatic or what, and what i would prefer, and i came to the conclusion that i would love it no matter what lol, but i was really into the idea of james just. fucking. saying it. while they’re just talking about something really casually. so therefore i was pretty happy with it when we got sort of a mix! they’re talking about teresa’s insane death trap of a plan so there’s that drama of “i don’t want to lose you esp. not before saying ILY” kinda thing, but it’s also just. so simple and sure! and then teresa’s i love you is like the perfect scene for me where one character is super focused on something else (in this case, trying to protect the woman he loves! agh!) and the other is just like.. i love you!!!! SO GOOD

- let’s see, what the hell else happened in this ep?

- oh okay i really liked james and teresa’s vibes this episode, they were so focused on each other and had this very ride-or-die feeling about them like they knew that each of their plans was increasingly stupid and desperate and might not even get them where they wanna go, but they were IN IT TOGETHER no matter what 😭i wish we had gotten a callback to that line but at this point, i’m p. sure they Know they’re in it together, and we do too. so it’s okay. i love that teresa still asks his input and considers his opinions even if she does her own thing anyways haha 

- oh on that note, i LOVED the moment where their plans to kill Kostya aren’t working and Teresa says something like “If I can meet with him in person, I can kill him myself” and James just has this LOOK that just is the epitome of the “I am in love with a women who is DESIGNED TO STRESS ME OUT” meme lol, it made me giggle, v classic QOTS moment 

- oh and of course, I LOVED that scene with devon and james at the end!!!!!!!! i was also confused about how james was showing all his emotions in that scene esp. since he tries to be stoic about his feelings for Teresa around Devon, but now that i’ve read a few people’s thoughts about, it i’m fully on board w the theory that james and teresa already knew this was coming, b/c they’re smart, and b/c james knows devon wouldn’t have let him walk away to save Teresa at the beginning of the season without motivation (like having him in place to kill her when she’s no longer useful to the CIA) and THEREFORE james was sort of “overacting” to make it believable to devon (and the audience lol) that he didn’t know this was coming, didn’t want to do it, but felt like he had to, rather than the fact that they were already plotting a fake death. that makes a lot of sense to me and makes me really love all the layers to that scene. it does give me a little bit of hope that the finale ~teresa’s not really dead~ reveal will be at least a little well executed and not just shoved in at the very end. we shall see though! 

- alright i think that’s what i loved about the episode, if u don’t wanna hear me bitching about the little things then u should probably stop here!! just have to get out some of my saltiness lol 

THINGS I WAS ANNOYED ABOUT

- i’m just gonna get it out of the way, yes, i too was supremely annoyed at the amount of KA and Pote take suburbia; it was all 1000% predictable down to the raccoon and the cookies, and the point could have been accomplished in exactly 1 scene, maybe 2, certainly not like 10 or however many we got. whatever. ugh. 

- okay. OKAY. chicho. we need to talk about chicho. i for one, am not mad that he called pote, my boy was stressed. I AM HOWEVER, mad at the writers for making pote come back after saying he trusted chicho to take care of teresa now. like. it totally devalued THE WHOLE THING!! imo, pote shoulda stayed his ass at home where we had to watch him settle all episode, and chicho should have gotten THE HERO MOMENT HE DESERVED (esp. cuz he’s on first name basis w teresa now??) which ALSO WOULD HAVE MADE THE SCENE WHERE TERESA GIVES CHICHO THE DISTILLERY AND THE BAR SO! MUCH! MORE! MEANINGFUL!!!!! or just made it make sense at all? like .... i’m just so confused by that whole plotline like what was the point? chicho does nothing but call pote and gets T’s whole legacy in NOLA? 

- and don’t even get me started on how it makes ZERO sense that pote would have had to charge in at the last minute to save teresa when JAMES THE SNIPER W AMAZING AIM WHO IS LITERALLY. IN LOVE WITH HER. is standing outside like. ur telling me james and chicho (who again, is supposed to be her #2 after james now) just stood there like “oh hey pote yeah you go ahead we’ll wait here good luck” like WHAT also.. how did pote get past all the guards that made james stay outside? are we meant to believe pote is that sneaky? y’all. it just. doesn’t make sense. this whole plot situation maddens me more than anythings tbh UGH JUST MAKE IT MAKE SENSE 

- oksana’s daughter..... what’s her name again? idk b/c we only MET HER THIS WEEK....okay this amuses me but i’m also annoyed b/c like. there were so many other women who could have taken that spot in the opening sequence... Lil T, Castel, hell even Isabela??? Like idk how they could have done it but they put so much effort into her plot in the first seasons that i really thought she was gonna end up w/ Teresa in the end.. idk that would have been kind cool, Camila’s two “daughters” eventually working their way out of the life together..again idk how they could have realistically done it but i really do wish it had been someone we met before. if it had to be someone new this season, they could have introduced her earlier instead of one of the seemingly dozens of random guys we knew for 1 episode before they died... like.. give her some depth please. is she even gonna be in the finale? honestly she better be after making us listen to pote welcome her into the family... like the family u were supposed to leave so u could have an actual baby pote? the family that’s literally dispersing as we speak? also.. since when did pote love oksana so much anyways? also...... just.. if teresa’s gonna have some sort of daughter figure or whatever she’s supposed to be, wouldn’t it make sense to have her be the one to give the big welcome to the family speech? idk y’all..... i’m amused but also baffled at the sheer lack of planning behind this. did no one realize they needed someone for the opening scene until like. halfway thru the season? did they plan to have it be castel but they couldn’t get her for filming (hence all the weird castel plots?) INQUIRING MINDS WOULD LIKE TO KNOW. it’s whatever tho lol 

- i just hope that what’s-her-name gets a lil bit of plot in the finale esp. since otherwise it might just be pote running around being pissy (i don’t actually think that haha but i am a lil nervous that teresa won’t come back until the last few mins and i’ll have to spend all episode looking at boaz and devon and pote and KA.. i haven’t looked at any spoilers tho so i’m still hopeful! i will probably make a post about my hopes going into the finale a lil later, both realistic and unrealistic :) 

[ab1tofsp1ce]

A Warmer Refuge

Chapter 7: Someone Else Again

Masterlist HERE

A/N: A special thank you to @mandos-things​ for your kind message, so here’s the next part!

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: Just some fluff (and a little bit of angst)

Description: Finally, you both reach Kistern - now what?

“Okay, but you have to promise me something,” I said, one eyebrow raised.

“What?” He grumbled slightly when he asked that question.

“Don’t… don’t open your mouth.”

“Why would I do that,” he asked incredulously.

“Just – just don’t, okay? I really don’t want to get my fingers in your mouth.”

“And what would make you think I would want your fingers in my mouth?”

I sighed exasperatedly, although with light-hearted intentions. “Never mind. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

I reached my arms out, feeling around the air as I shuffled forward until my right hand bumped into his shoulder. From there, I anchored myself by grabbing his other one with my left hand. They felt stocky and warm under my grasp; the only thing separating his skin from mine was a thin shirt. I let out a playfully dramatic sigh, shaking myself slightly, and then began to trace up his shoulders to his collarbones, then his neck, his jaw, and finally I was cupping his face in my hands. He had a ragged stubble that scratched my fingers slightly, and I smiled and hummed contentedly at the feeling under my palms. I tickled my fingers slowly up the side of his face to his eyes, to which he grunted and muttered something about how I was poking him. His eyelashes were surprisingly long, and I could feel his skin was aged, yet still smooth – probably as it was consistently hidden from sunlight. I traced down the center of his cheeks, past his nose, and to his lips, which I ran my thumb over gently. At this, I felt two hands snake their way onto my hips, and he peppered a small kiss onto my fingertips.

“Why did you want to do this?”

I didn’t answer right away, because truthfully, I wasn’t sure how best to word it without sounding ungrateful or cold. So, I deflected.

“What do you mean?”

“You could just look at my face, if you wanted.”

“Is that what you want,” I asked. I didn’t want to pretend I knew what he wanted, but I had my suspicions.

“I don’t know what I want anymore.” He sounded so dejected, and what made it worse was how he also sounded brutally honest.

“Did you want to take it off?”

There was a moment of silence. “Yes. But I had to.”

“Well, if you were forced – ”

“No,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “I wasn’t forced. I wanted to, but it was more than that. I – I needed to.”

I nodded. I appreciated what he was trying to say, and it didn’t take a genius to see it was hard for him to articulate. He was doing a better job than I was, standing here like an idiot not knowing how to explain myself without sounding like a bitch.

“The truth is, I’m scared,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’m scared that once I open my eyes it’ll be real.”

“Would that be so bad?” I knew what he wanted me to say by asking that question, and so I felt guilty that I knew my answer right away.

“Yes, because I can’t stay here. In a few hours we’ll be on Kistern, and then I’ll go my way and you’ll go yours and… if I see your face, I don’t think I could ever do that. And I know that I have to do. So…”

“So, you can’t,” he sighed, and I felt a hand leave my waist and caress my cheek slightly. He understood.

“No. No, I can’t.”

His weight shifted and there was a momentary puff of his breath against my face before his lips came into contact with mine. It was a gentle kiss, as delicate and precarious as this all felt right now. It was a cruel trick of the universe, that just as I finally found a home, I would have to leave it. Right now, he felt so far away from the man in the suit of armor – it was hard to even believe they were the same person.

He pulled away slowly, as if it was a chore, and pressed a soft kiss against my cheek before starting to move behind me. But I grabbed him by the hem of his shirt and, eyes still closed, pulled myself into his chest, wrapping my arms around him. He obliged, in turn doing the same, and with my head in his chest I could smell him so clearly. It was something warm, like a foreign spice of sorts, mixed with rich woody tones and salt, like what I imagined the ocean to smell like. I felt him bury his face in my hair and sigh deeply, rocking me slightly with his overbearing frame. We stood like that for a while, and I soaked up every second of it, knowing when I let go, he would go and adorn his armor and be someone else again. Out there, he would be the Mandalorian but here, in my arms, he could be Din.

I tried to pretend it didn’t affect me. Sitting in the passenger’s seat, I allowed my focus to be enveloped by the view of my new home, rather than the dread of leaving what I had. As we jumped out of hyperspace, I got my first look at Kistern. What struck me as new and strange was the number of other ships around us. Larger stations orbited the planet, and I had never seen so many New Republic ships before.

As we came into the planet, there was a buzz through the intercom.

“D50 Genesis, this is landing tower 5, you need clearance to land on Kistern. Do you copy?”

The Mandalorian leaned down and pressed something before responding to the call.

“Landing tower 5, this is D50 Genesis. I have a passenger with eligible refugee status, and I am the accompanying chaperone.”

There was a crackling pause over the intercom.

“D50 Genesis, may I please speak to the refugee?”

The Mandalorian looked over at me, nodding his slightly as a gesture for me to speak up. “Uh, yes?”

“Am I speaking with the refugee,” the woman asked.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Do you have your completed paperwork?”

“Yes.”

There was another brief pause.

“D50 Genesis, you're cleared for landing on terminal 14. Do you copy?”

The Mandalorian shuffled forward in his seat as I sat back down.

“This is D50 Genesis, I copy. Over and out.” The intercom switched silent.

I paused, feeling suddenly how loud my heart was beating. I couldn’t believe it. I was finally here, about to land. I felt only apprehension.

“How long do you get on Kistern,” I asked him. “I mean, I’m assuming they don’t just let you wander free down there.”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, staring forward as we entered the atmosphere. “I’ll take as long as I can get.”

I leaned back into my seat and stared at the roof of the ship, swallowing hard. He said it so calmly, like nothing had happened between us. How could someone feel so close to me and yet so far away? He didn’t even seem to care.

Part of me wanted to ask him, but the truth was that wouldn’t be fair. Because if he asked me the same question, I would be completely clueless. I wasn’t sure what to do, or what I wanted from him. I wasn’t even sure if there was anything he could give me. What would I do, trek around the galaxy with a bounty hunter? Not that he would ever want me to…

The ramp lowered and we were greeted by an officer, flanked by two guards. All three seemed rather taken aback at the sight of a Mandalorian escorting me down from the ship, although seemed to withhold any reaction.

“Welcome to Kistern,” said the officer, his eyes sliding from the Mandalorian to myself. “Can I see your papers?”

I dug around in my rucksack before producing a few slightly crumpled documents. The officer pilfered through them, occasionally looking up at each of us, almost skeptically.

“These are in order,” he said at last. “You can come with me to get your authorizations. We’ll, uh, give you two a moment.” His voice was laced with unease.

“Hold on,” I said, frantically. “He… you’re not sending him away, are you?”

The officer turned back to me with an eyebrow raised. “Well, he can’t stay… surely you know that. He has no jurisdiction on Kistern.”

“Can’t you make an exception,” I stammered, getting a bit desperate. “Just for… just for a couple of days? I – I just…” I could see the officer wasn’t buying it, so I reached over and took the Mandalorian’s gloved hand in mine. I could feel him tense up slightly under my touch, but he didn’t react. I pulled out my best desperate expression. “Please. I’ll never… I’ll never see him again.” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

The officer sighed. “I can give you 24 hours, no more. Come with me.” As he turned away, I exchanged a look with the Mandalorian, who seemed a little baffled. “Uh, thanks.”

“Hopefully it’s enough time…” I said, diverting my gaze and slowly letting go of his hand. “It’s better than nothing,” he admitted. “Come on,” he gestured, and I followed him after the officer.

Apparently, Kalbier had known nothing about Kistern, although this didn’t surprise me. The planet was not desertous like Yak’ish Temeen, and in fact, couldn’t be further from it. The city we were in was covered with a grey, dull sky, and was bordering a large ocean. The air was salty and somewhat humid and smelt of oil and smoke. The only immediate similarities I noticed between my home planet and this one was the variety of creatures inhabiting it. Once again, like that outpost on Utaran, many of them seemed to stare at us as we walked past, and I kept my eyes trained to the ground as best as I could.

We were taken to the New Republic’s post, where I was given a starting balance of 500 credits and keys to a lodging to which I had access to for four weeks. Their behavior was curt and professional, and I had to bite my tongue so as to not make my resentment apparent. I blamed them in part for what had happened on Yak’ish Temeen, and after everything they hadn’t done, they still treated me with civil disregard. I couldn’t be more pleased to get out of there.

The Mandalorian escorted me through the city streets; tall metallic buildings that created thin and crowded alleyways and backstreets. The streets were muddy and well-trodden, and the place was far less than pleasant.

“Kistern is notorious for pirates,” said the Mandalorian, placing a hand gently on my lower back to guide me through the crowds. “No wonder the New Republic wanted to get it under control as quickly as possible. But that doesn’t make it impenetrable. I’m sure there are plenty of pirates who would love to get back on this planet. Like our friends on Utaran…”

I tried to focus on what he was saying, which was valuable information, but I could only feel his gloved hand gently resting on my skin as we shuffled through the alleys.

We finally reached the lodgings, a dilapidated multistorey apartment covered in graffiti and adorned with flags and washing lines that hung out the windows between the buildings.

Inside, the room was small and minimally furnished. I walked over to the opposite wall and looked out the window, which boasted a view of the city sloping down to the docks. I heard the door shut and lock behind me.

“Keep the door and windows locked at all times,” said the Mandalorian. “And don’t stay in this town longer than you need to. I’ve heard there are far safer cities inland, and ones where your skills will be useful.”

I turned around and leaned against the windowsill, looking over at him. He was by the door, and there was something passive about the way he stood; he was trying to distract me from asking.

“Can I… what if I came with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“To find your… the person you’re looking for. You only have 24 hours here, surely you could use some help?” I knew my voice sounded desperate, but it was hard to hide how I was really feeling.

“No,” he said, with a tone of finality. I knew it was pointless trying to convince him, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.

“I’m not entirely useless,” I said, rather unconvincingly. “I’m sure there could be something –”

He interrupted me with a morose sigh, looking down at the ground. “Of course you’re not useless, but you’ll only tie me down while I’m out there.”

“Oh,” was all I could muster. Ouch. I tried to hide the pain in my voice, but he noticed, looking up at me.

“I didn’t mean it like –”

“It’s okay, really,” I said, mostly meaning it. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about doing what you do.”

He sighed. “What I meant was I’d worry too much. I wouldn’t be able to focus if you were with me…”

It still hurt, hearing what I already knew. It made me realize how starkly different we were and snapped me back into the harsh reality of our situation.

“Well,” I said, gathering what composure I had left. “I don’t want to keep you here. You’d… you’d better get going.” I avoided the eye contact he was so intensely trying to give me. He seemed to take a hint, and slowly turned for the door.

I couldn’t hold back. “Will you – will you come back to say goodbye?” He didn’t need to be looking at me to hear my pain as I choked on my words. I felt stupid, bleating it out like a child, but at the same time, I didn’t care.

“I’ll try,” he said. And then he was gone.

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Additional Tags: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, One-Sided Love, Romance, Canon Compliant, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, Kissing, Implied/Referenced Sex, Crying, Eren Yeager-centric, Sad Ending

Words: 6k

Summary: Eren has a dream that he will never live to see. So, at least, he wants to make this one small dream come true.

Eren has always been a dreamer.

Ever since he was a kid, he’d stare upon a wall and imagine the world outside. He’d dream about what he would do when he finally gets to go outside the walls. Armin would dream with him. The days inside the cramped walls would be a little brighter when he gets to dream of soft shredded ice falling from the sky and rivers of red molten rocks. The waves of glittery blue saltwater, the waves of green hills unending. To stand on top of the mountain and gaze upon the blue sky, seeing where it starts and ends in the horizons.

The dreams wouldn’t have gone wild nor wonderful had it not been for Armin. The naive creative boy that he always is, came up to him with big blue eyes filled with dreams that infect Eren on sight.

Looking back now, Eren doesn’t know whether his dreams had become everything he lived for, or a slow poison killing his insides.

Because all his dreams are dead the moment his lips met the back of Historia’s hand.

He grimaced at the memories. It took every will that he has to not vomit then and there at Historia’s feet.

Everything was never the same after he knew.

They ride out to the beach, and there it is. Infinite saltwater, blue as the sky, glittering in the sun. Yet he can’t feel happy about it, he had seen it with the previous’s attack titan’s eyes. The magic is gone before he gets to experiences it on his own.

His eyes stare longingly at the ethereal scenery in front of him, but all he sees is the enemy across the ocean.

Eren had a lot of dreams. Hopeful little dreams that all lead to one thing. He wants to be free. Free to explore. Free to be who he wants to be. Free to love. He can have none of those, because of the enemy that lurks behind the glittery waves.

If we kill the enemy, the one waiting for us on the other side, will we be finally free?

Not realizing that he said his musing, Armin steps by his side.

“I don’t think we can ever be fully free,” his blue eyes are as blue as the sky, as blue as the water. Eren wondered if Ymir put those eyes in him because this moment was destined too. “Even the people across the ocean aren’t free too, that’s why Grisha ended up inside our walls.”

Eren had fallen to a deep depression after the memories barged in, Armin’s words almost sealed him into rock bottom.

Almost, until Armin adds, “But we’re people. As humans we’re given a will, a choice to do things, even if there are consequences, nothing can ever truly stops us from doing what we want.”

Yes, this moment is truly meant to be, Eren thinks as Armin’s eyes filled with hopes and dreams, like it always meant to be.

“There’s always going to be enemies, Eren, but we worked our hardest to break out of the walls, and though we’re not fully free yet, we’re still rewarded.” Armin looks at him, and for a moment, the clouds parted, and it’s bright. Ever since the medal gifting, Eren had slowly ignored them all. This is the first time in many months that they meet eyes again, and of course, the hope and dreams latch on deep and rooting yet again.

“Right now, we’re being rewarded with the sea,” Armin looks down to the conch he’s holding, lowering it to the crystal clear water to sit in the sand. “We have big dreams, and it hasn’t come true yet, but the small dreams do. Didn’t we always dream to see the sea? Now we finally do, it came true. We broke out of the walls, the possibilities expand, there’s going to be a lot of small dreams coming true before the big one.” Armin looks at Eren with a mischievous glint, but Eren is too mesmerized to see what’s coming. “Like how you... can enjoy... a fist full of salt!” Armin throws a big splash of salt water on Eren’s mouth.

It’s so salty that Eren almost hacked his tonsils out. He doesn’t remember ever eating something so salty, ever. He used to beg his mom to put more salt in their dishes, but salt was a rare commodity and they’re far from rich. Now, Eren just had a fist full of salt.

Eren paused, and everyone’s stiff stares turn worrisome for him when Eren broke down into a manic laugh. As if the salt in the water isn’t enough, Eren contributes with his tears streaming down along the water in his hair.

Swimming in the clear blues, salty mouth, and vision almost whiteout by brightness, Eren feels like flying. He takes the saltwater and splashes Armin back along with Mikasa behind him.

Armin’s face broke into a wide smile and kicks the water at him. Eren gets completely wet, so is Captain Levi behind him. They all paled at the Captain’s scowl, but then Hanji squeals, “WATER WAR!”

And Eren will take water war over the other war he’s going to evoke.

++++

Small dreams

Or so Armin had said.

Once again, Armin filled him with hope. Maybe not all of Eren’s dreams are dead. It never occurred to him that he could settle for less.

Once upon a time, Eren dreamed of living in a cabin far in the woods. Where he can run and not bump into someone. Where he can breathe in crisp air instead of the damp breaths of other people. He dreamed of making a family in that cabin. Be in love, never feeling alone.

He had planned to do that with Mikasa. It’s so easy to love Mikasa, how couldn’t he? A stoic face that only brightens at Eren. She’s a quiet kid, but she shows affection with actions. Like how she’s always beside him no matter how petulantly Eren pushes her away sometimes. She’s distrustful but still trusted Eren the most. Her smiles are rare, but when she does, it’s always for Eren. It’s endearing.

Also, she’s beautiful. She doesn’t realize it and Eren sometimes wants to scream at her. But Eren never said anything to her, never admitted out loud. He knows since the day he met her that Mikasa is special. She’s calm, collected, mature and so strong. Eren never gets why she loves him, but Eren is afraid if she realized how special she is then she wouldn’t choose the lame, regular, non-special Eren.

But he wants her. He promised himself if the war is over then he’d confess his feelings to her and just... love her.

Eren wants to feel loved, to be loved, to be wanted and cherished. Wants all the romantical shit with that person. He’s loved by Mikasa, and he knows if Eren asks, Mikasa will never say no to Eren under positive circumstances.

Now that Eren knows the truth about Ackermans, he can never see Mikasa in the same light again.

Mikasa’s love -now that he gets a double-take- is scary. She gave her whole heart in her palm, her full dedication and love only for Eren, no questions, no hesitations, no doubts. What did Eren do to deserve it? To work for it? Nothing.

All Eren did was save her, and gave her a scarf because she looked cold and Eren’s mom taught him to be good. If Mikasa was a depraved kid lacking affection her whole life then Eren would’ve understood why Mikasa was taken by him. But no, Mikasa’s parents were good to her, what Eren did was not special to her.

She loves him, sure, like a dog loves its master. Unreasonably unconditional. And the dog doesn’t know what’s good for themselves, blindly loving their masters. Just like how baffling it was that a selfish serial killer like Kenny suddenly have a heart to follow a hidden king just because he begged prettily.

Having Mikasa love him doesn’t bear the same euphoric feeling. Eren isn’t special, just a lucky kid at the right time, she could’ve imprinted on anyone. Eren had thought this dream is dead.

Eren still loves her, she’s still a person, just a fucked up gene. So at that night infiltrating Marley with the team of survey corps, Eren asks her, “Why is it that you care so much about me? What am I to you?”

Mikasa blushes prettily, her breath quickens.

“You are family,” Mikasa admits shyly.

Unlike the dog that loves its master, Eren knows better. It’s not that Mikasa is pushing him away, Eren is family, Eren is her everything, that’s why all she said was those three words. And she feels all these things without any reason at all, so much that she can’t compute.

Then the family of the boy he helped offer alcohol, and Eren gulped it down. In a way, Mikasa broke his heart. Eren wasn’t special to her. Eren isn’t wanted, he’s being obsessed by, being followed by someone that doesn’t know better.

Morning comes. They’re in a boat on the way back to Paradis Island. Eren decides to give his dream one more try. Maybe it doesn’t have to be romantic? He settles for even less.

He finds Armin by the deck at 6 AM. The only ones awake around are them, the captain behind the wheel, and the fishes under.

His blue eyes take in the dark sea, the pinkish color of the dawn sky.

Eren knows why they both are the only ones up this hour after a whole night drinking. Turns out being a Titan means that you regenerate everything. They don’t get drunk too long, and they don’t get hangovers.

“Armin?” Eren can’t help the desperation in his voice, not in front of Armin. His best friend has seen him at his worst, and he’s still here, it must mean something, right? “What am I to you?”

Armin -who had been looking at him curiously the moment Eren spoke- drops his jaw. They look at each other for a while, and Armin seems to sober up from his shock and looks stern.

A pair of arms smack on either side of Eren’s face. It sobers Eren of all the melancholic brooding, even more now that Armin is putting a nagging face on. “Eren Jaeger, you listen to me. We’ve been friends since we’re gaggling children. You were a trouble-seeker even though you’re weak, couldn’t even land a punch on some goons! We all survived childhood purely thanks to Mikasa.”

“At least I tried to fight, unlike you, taking it laying down,” Eren growls, lifting his hands to pinch both of Armin’s cheeks. Gone the baby fat, they’re a little bit skinnier from growing up, and a bit too many muscles replacing it.

“Ow!” Armin grabs Eren’s wrist and to Eren’s surprise, Armin pulls his hands away easily. The strength stuns Eren’s mock anger away, and Armin looks at him with a solemn gaze. Eyes tinted pink look a bit lilac purple.

“I could never understand why you would befriend a weak kid like me, but then I figured it out.” Armin takes a deep breath, and suddenly Eren feels weak. Why is Armin looking at him like that? “You, Eren, are the most important person in my life. The one I cherished the most, and closer than family. No one realized how big of a heart you have, and your pride gets in the way of asking for help. But you care so much about everyone when no one was looking.” And Armin looks at him, Eren hears ‘but I did’, from Armin all the same.

“You’ve been different since we stepped into Marley,” Armin says, freezing Eren on the spot. Eren hoped he schooled his face as well as he thinks. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone. Alright? You have us, and we’ll always be on your side.”

Eren was done before he knew he started. Tears bursts from his eyes, lips frown deeply, holding back sobs.

“Oh! Eren, uh...” Armin awkwardly pats Eren’s back and Eren pulls him into the hug. It takes exactly one second for Armin to completely melt and wrap him into a tighter hug.

His heart bleeds. Armin did two things with his words. Makes Eren feel loved, and tore him a betrayal yet to be done.

It hurts because Eren knew, they can’t be on his side. They won’t, and that’s how it’s meant to be.

“Armin, can I try something?”

“I... guess?”

Maybe it’s Armin’s unpredictable blush or Eren’s half-broken heart, but it’s easy to just dive in. Eren didn’t realize how small Armin’s face is until he cups it, touched its cheekbones, trails the jaw, cradles the back of his blond hair. Leaning in is easy. Once meeting Armin’s lips, he felt some sort of instinct. It tells Eren to leans closer, tilts his head, licks the lower lip, and parts his own.

Eren wondered why lips taste so sweet and feel so soft, or was it just Armin?

When Armin’s arms find his sides and clutches, Eren feels heat riding up his spine, up to his head. He wants more. The morning is cold and every gentle move Armin does to kiss him back warms him with life. Finally, Armin parts his lips too, and instincts take over again. Tounge between teeth, roaming into his mouth.

Still, the best feeling of kissing is not how Armin feels on him, but how Armin is feeling him up. Armin kisses back with curious vigor, lips moving quicker, hands clutching tight. When Armin moves his hand to cups the back of his head and grabs his hair, Eren shivers. Eren wants more, wants Armin to want more of him.

Armin doesn’t feel the same, as he shows by stepping a wide step back. Eren gasps at the sudden space, cold strikes him like a slap, arms awkwardly hugging where Armin was less than a second ago. Blue eyes widen, in shock, but not in disgust, and Eren hoped.

“But... I thought Mikasa...” Armin stutters, hand on his lips. Eren empathizes, his lips still tingle too.

“I don’t think of her that way.”

“Liar, I saw you... You...” Armin’s words died away. Yes, he saw Eren looks besottedly at Mikasa when no one was looking. It changed though, and even though Eren isn’t transparent, Armin can read him like a dog-eared book.

“I don’t think of her that way anymore,” he corrects.

It’s true. Eren did think of her that way, not anymore. Eren loves Armin, but he never thought of him that way, now he can, and somehow it makes sense. His wild dreamer of a head can see it.

Armin’s silence is discouraging. Self-consciously, Eren feels that he might be moving too fast.

...

What’s Eren doing? What’s next? Going on a date? Be boyfriends? Share sweet nothings under the stars until Eren eventually betrays them all?

He knew he had to give up on his dreams, small as it is, and he won't live to see his one most important dream come true. Eren sees the suffering and the screams, but not the peace that came after.

Still, a part of him yearns and reaches desperately before Eren can pull away.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Eren says, every word ripped from his flesh. Eren smiles apologetically at Armin’s confused expression. “It’s nice... I-I... You’re my everything too.” The confession is terrifyingly easier. Eren feels the heat on his face now, and the shaking cold of his fingers.

Armin takes a deep breath with his slacked jaw, still startled, but something changed in his face, softer.

Eren walks away, but a strong grip holds his wrist. Eren realized that strong as Armin is, he’s not as strong as Eren’s. Eren is just so weak for him. Since when? How could he never notice?

Well, he notices now, and it makes him flush when he kisses him. It doesn’t mean anything. Nothing can come out of it. Eren can’t dream of it.

“Since when?” Armin asks vaguely, but Eren still knows.

“Since just now,” Eren says truthfully.

Armin lets him go then. Eren doesn’t look at him when he walks away.

+++

But Eren never stopped yearning.

Everything starts coming to place. So fast, so perfectly that it scares him.

These moments with his friends are numbered, and with all the power given to him, he can’t stop time.

He remembers what Armin says, and what Eren can realistically take from it. Enjoy it while he can. Cherish his friends while he can. As embarrassing as it sounds, Eren was saying the truth when he said he wants none of them inheriting the Attack Titan. These people live through hell with him, and he’ll make sure all of them make it in the end. No need to bear the Titan for the sake of foolish wars. It all will end with Eren, and it’ll make one of Eren’s dreams come true. The friends most precious to him will live in peace till they’re old and grey.

All of this is for the dreams that Eren will never live to see.

But the small ones, his mind says in betrayal, it can come true right?

Those words are what got him yearning still for the one thing he had given up on, or trying to at least.

Nothing changes between him and Armin. Eren has more practice in acting, he finds it easy to have a poker face, seems like his face does the same thing if he’s in despair, so he lets it take over. Armin is a bit different. The tension is there though faint. Lurking glances at the corner of his eyes, disappearing just before Eren could turn and see. It was Eren that says they don’t have to talk about it.

He hates it. Hates that even without meeting his eyes, Armin still gives him hope.

Eren knows he’s been sneaking into Annie’s jail cell. A part of him feels jealous, another part feels relieved. Relieved because Armin can move on, and maybe they’d pretend they’re never a thing to begin with. Yet Armin never stopped staring, and Eren could never really let go.

Eren knows that inherited traits from previous owners of the titans are possible and real. Eren is almost entirely sure that Armin’s affection purely came from Bertholdt. Eren had the same lingering feelings too. Bursts of instincts and thoughts that came out of nowhere. He feels weird with his hair short. All he thinks of his mother is not her love anymore, but guilt. So he clutches the feelings he knows are his own. New as it is, his feelings for Armin are one of the things he’s confident in. One of few.

He’s a compilation of previous Attack Titans now, but he’s still him. Eren is more than a shell, more than a pawn. Still his own self. Still Eren Jaeger. Still his mother’s son.

“Still human.”

“What?”

Eren snaps back and sees Mikasa’s searching eyes. They’re helping around Historia’s orphanage again. The horse he’s brushing is nudging him to continue where he left off.

“Nothing,” Eren mumbles.

Mikasa looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. She drops the hay she was carrying to the feeding bin and steps out of the barn with a worried look.

Eren can’t help but wonder if Armin would’ve said or done something different.

+++

It’s dark, nothing but the moon, the fireflies, and his oil lamp for light. His friends are back at the orphanage having a game night. Eren had said he was tired and wanted to sleep early, then sneaking out to take a walk alone along the dirt path from Historia’s orphanage. Eren feels misplaced in the group, detached. They’re all smiling, having fun, but Eren feels like he’s alone. For all the plan to work, he just needs to keep his mouth shut and trusts Floch and Yelena to carry on the plan.

Eren wishes he could tell someone. Wishes that it didn’t have to be genocide. Wishes he could live to see his dreams coming true and live for them. Wishes he has someone... just someone to cry on. To share his fear because Eren is terrified-

“Eren?”

He didn’t hear anyone coming, he was that deep into his head. Of course, it’s Armin, and of course, he looks worried.

“Oh,” Armin says, sad. “You don’t have to hide when you needed to cry.”

Eren takes a deep breath, taps his face, and turns out the dampness in his face was not from the humidity.

“Talk to me,” Armin is close to begging, but not quite enough for Eren to fold.

Eren can’t talk to Armin, or he’ll say it all, undo a nail in the dam and all the water will break through. All the fears nearly choke him to death if he lets it.

“Do you have small dreams?” Eren asks because he can’t handle doing the talking.

“I do,” Armin says easily. He gestures to one of the trees facing the clearing Eren was heading towards. They sit there, watching the sparse clouds moves. “The sea is one of them,” Armin says once they sat, the oil lap turned off. The moon is full, Eren can see every detail of Armin’s face.

“What else?”

“Well there’s the mountains, and the snowy dunes, Onyakopon says it’s called the artic... I want to travel the world.” Armin looks to the moon with his hopeful eyes, and Eren’s heart is pulled.

Yanked painfully.

“You can do that,” Eren says, trying to smile.

“How about you?”

Eren looks down to his hands, “I’m not a dreamer like you,” He lied terribly, “It’s hard to, isn’t it? We’re still in the middle of the war, there’s a chance we won't make it.” I won’t make it.

Armin furrowed his eyebrows, “This is not the Eren I know,” his voice rising, “The Eren I know won’t give up until he has vengeance! His goals and hopes and dreams! Until he’s free! The Eren I know is always brave!”

Eren grits his teeth, his dead dreams flash in his eyes. “Fine! I’m a coward! I’m setting my expectations realistic Armin! We can’t always have what we want because we’re tied with obligations-”

“Why does it matter! Why is it ever the reason we stopped dreaming, huh?” Armin rises to his knees, looking down at Eren with fury coated with shadows. The moon looms upon his blond hair, tears falling down his face. “And we’re all scared Eren! I don’t think I ever stopped being scared since a Titan peeked from the walls of our home and literally kicked the gate open... the Titan that I am now.” His voice weakens, hands by his side shaking in balled fists.

Eren wants to touch him. Pull him to sit down, wipes his tears, pull him into his arms, curled into him, because yes, Eren is scared too, more than he’s sane to handle sometimes.

“But being brave means that we keep trying despite being scared... Being brave means that we have something to push through fear. That’s why we can’t stop hoping, having dreams! You can’t stop hoping Eren!” Armin sits back down, hands clenching on Eren’s shoulder. “Don’t give up on them! If you do... then... then what do you fight for?” Armin’s voice is broken and desperate.

“For all of you,” Eren says weakly, “I told you that before. I want all of you to be free.”

“But what about you!” Armin shakes his shoulder, “What about your dreams for you!”

“There’s none! Alright?!” Eren snaps, gripping Armin’s hands, and pushes him away. His breath is fast and shallow. A bundle of nerves wanting to run. Stars break behind his lids

“Eren, please!” Armin clutch his wrist, “You have to have something to live for. Don’t...” Armin’s broken voice makes Eren look, not surprised to see Armin looking heartbreakingly sad. “Don’t throw your life away so easily! I know our years are numbered and no one can tell whether we die in this war or not... but I’d-I’d... if we found peace within our years, I’d... want to spend however little left of my life with you.”

A sob came out first before the tears, Eren can’t hold it back. He’s been clutching everything hard so close to his heart that he just couldn’t hold himself together anymore. He wanted to say it all, lay the sins he hasn’t committed, and be loved despite so. He knows Armin would, and he would help. Eren wouldn’t be alone, but he can’t.

Armin will have his dream come true, having peace in his lifetime.

Armin’s war will be over in a few years.

Eren’s war will never end, not till he dies.

“Please, don’t let me hope,” Eren begged.

“But-”

“I can’t have small dreams, I just couldn’t!” Eren snaps again, throwing up all his anger in his throaty scream, “I can’t! I tried Armin but I kept wanting more. I want more and everything! Nothing is ever enough and this fucking war is...” this fucking fate, her fucking wish, “It’ll take everything from me.”

“No, not yet,” Armin says solemnly with new determination, face still wet from crying. “I have a plan okay? Don’t you trust me?”

Eren is thrown again between pain and anger. His scowl rained down with tears. “You know I do!” I’ll betray you but you’ll pull through, I believe you will. “This has nothing to do with it. We... it just... I can’t...”

“Tell me what it is,” Armin begs, “I’ll help it come true, I’ll help in any way I can. Please.” Those honest eyes look at him, tear down the walls he puts up. Why does Armin always make him hopeful? Even though Eren has nothing left in his future? Why?

Why after years of guarding his desires, one look from Armin unravel him instantly?

His heart finally bare of walls, hands clenched so tightly they shake, Eren screamed his soul out, “I WANT TO BE FREE!”

He screams so loud to the blank indifferent sky that his voice echoes. He hadn’t dared voiced that dream of him anymore, knowing he’ll never have it. It was all he wanted, but there’s a chain of fate in his neck.

Even though he’s chained, doesn’t mean he’s muffled. Not anymore, his heart yearns openly. “I want... I want a life! A long life with someone I love. A cabin in a large space in the forest, where the air feels cool in our lungs. I want kids on my own, I want to grow old with someone! Someone that loves me despite who I am,” despite what I’m about to do. “I just want to be myself.... not a weapon, not a soldier, not a tool.” Not fate’s fool. “I just want to live... build a life, build a home, be with someone that cherishes me for me.”

Eren makes a mistake in looking at Armin, finding the blue eyes mimicking the heavy rain pouring from Eren’s. The worst is the despairing look on Armin’s face, the full mournfulness of the usually boyish hopeful look.

Eren’s mouth still loose, the adrenaline from the truth makes him brave, “I want... I want more than just a kiss.” Armin’s expression doesn’t change, still in that heartbroken despair, it’s like he’s not surprised. “I want to go... spend time with you... more than-than just a friend.” At that, Armin finally looks surprised.  Eren’s face burns, but it’s easier to say without the suspense of how well Armin is going to take it. Whether it’s a yes or no, the answer is already chosen by circumstances.

“You-You’d want that?” Armin’s tone in disbelieve.

“Yeah,” he croaks, already sore from screaming.

“I thought...” Finally, Armin looks down, “I thought you were just curious about the kiss, not necessarily me.”

“Well... both of that. The kiss and... you.”

Out of nowhere, Armin barks a laugh, stilling Eren looking at him like he’s crazy. “Geez, I should’ve known. You’re really an all-or-nothing guy.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Eren pouts.

“No, not bad, but by gods, your actions can be baffling sometimes,” Armin smiles. Oh if only he knew.

It’s eerie how they can fall to banter easily, smoothly, and Eren can’t help to imagine a lifetime of this. He tamps it down instantly.

Eren feels oddly lighter, but he knows tomorrow he won’t. He’ll mull about tonight, and nothing will be done about it, then it’ll add to the list of things he broods about.

“Wait,” Armin says, before Eren gets to ask what, a pair of lips landed on him. It’s more chaste than before because Eren still put up his guard. It’s still too sweet and Eren still got poisoned.

They lean back, flushed and a bit breathless. Armin is flustered, nervous, but Eren is carefully stoic, which means he’s despaired.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Eren clips.

“Unlike you, I’m more selfish.”

“You didn’t even like me like that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And Annie?”

Armin sighs, “I don’t know why... but I just feel if we could’ve had time, me and her could be something.” Eren knows the reason, an indescribable instinct. “But Eren,” His hand grips Eren’s, pinning Eren at place with his gentle touch. “Annie and I didn’t become anything. She’s frozen in a crystal, and you’re here.”

Eren should feel like chopped liver, really, but why is he hopeful instead?

“And I want you.”

Eren watches his best friend, watches closely. Their transparency towards each other goes both ways.

“I know maybe... my feelings aren’t as deep as yours yet, but I still want you.”

Eren finds no lie, and it’s harder to not let his soul soars in joy. Yet.

“Nothing can come out of this.”

“Who says?”

“Armin...”

“See the smaller picture,” Armin put his hands on Eren’s face and his mind stops. “I know you’d always want more, but isn’t having something small is better than not having anything at all? Did you ever regret kissing me the first time?”

“No.” Eren knows he’s utterly defeated yet again by Armin’s wits.

“Would the future you regret kissing me some more?”

Eren weakly smiles, “I-I think future me will thank present me.”

“Well.”

They both lean in this time, knowing what to expect, but still getting surprised by what they get.

Their third kiss is better, both of them anticipate it, both of them wanting. They know better how to slot their bodies together. Their lips were a bit chapped, tasting like the apple pie they had for dessert today. Their hands move more confidently. Eren goes along Armin’s back and jaw, feeling the newly shaved undercut. Armin’s fingers go to his nape, feeling his grown-out hair. Those fingers trail down Eren’s chest and pull his shirt.

Suddenly Eren’s backed against the tree trunk. Momentarily they part their lips, just to look. Eren doesn’t know what Armin is finding that makes him blush and doe-eyed, but what Eren finds is that Armin wants him too. Armin, who could’ve waited for Annie, who could’ve had anyone, wants Eren. No genetic conditioning. No previous titans making him like Eren. This is Armin as he is, wanting Eren as he is.

That’s all he needs. It’s all he wants.

Eren is wanted. Not as a tool. Not as a weapon. Not his power.

Just Eren.

When they kiss again, skin touch skin. Hands pressing on pulses. Their breathing sound loud in the dead of the night. No one is listening but them.

No one stopping them.

In the protective cradle of the forest, they finally get to be curious teens fooling around.

++++

They’re not anything, but not nothing either.

Something noticeably changed between them, but it’s not hard to hide what they are when even they are not sure what they are.

They have nothing but stolen kisses, sneaking out in the night to spend time alone. They don’t really talk, just touches that keep getting bolder. Eren’s feet coming up Armin’s legs under the table as he explains strategies. A hand on Eren’s inner thigh at a group dinner. Sex in the closet. Disappearing at night. Sneaking into each other’s room. Sneaking out in the morning.

Eren admits that feeding his hunger is exhilarating, he’s never felt this alive since he sees the future. Eren would never admit that this happiness scares him.

Eventually, the carpet will be pulled from under his feet, and Eren will have no one to blame but himself.

But Armin was right. Small dreams coming true are still better than dead dreams. Eren is living in his little secret of peacefulness whenever he’s pulled aside where no one can see them.

“Eren,” Armin murmurs, voice hoarse, curling towards Eren for warmth. Eren pulls the blanket over their naked shoulders, shimmying closer. He nuzzles on top of blond hair and smells the sun. Legs bare and long stretching along with Eren’s, Armin rest his temple against Eren’s. Since when did Armin get this tall? Armin plays with Eren’s shoulder-length hair. Since when did his hair get that long?

How did time pass so fast?

“Go back to sleep, it’s still early,” Eren says with familiar affection, a soft spot dangerously tender. He kisses the top of the blond hair by instinct and felt his heart squeeze. He wants to keep Armin here, in his arms, forever.

“I can go back to my room if you want,” Armin offers sleepily, knowing that Eren has been having difficulty sleeping, but not knowing the real reason why.

“Never, stay,” Eren feels a lump in his throat, small mercy grants him for it not to show.

They’re in Eren’s room at the furthest corner of the house that’s far inside the woods. They’re here for Titan experiments, the only other people in the house are Hanji and her assistant.

The window curtains are parted so they can see each other, can’t risk the lamp on to alarm anyone. As always, whenever they’re together, the moon is their only witness.

Eventually, the carpet is pulled from under his feet, Eren has no one to blame but himself. Still, his small dream coming true is still better than nothing at all, Armin was right, nothing surprising there.

He tucked Armin closer to him, caressing his back languidly, not wanting to let go ever. Tears building up his eyes, chest contracting, heart pounding, crying silently.

“I love you, Armin,” Eren says, as clear as saying hello in broad daylight. The body in his arm tensed. Blue eyes still bright even in the dark, open wide in shock, but the softness in his expression means Armin at least expected it.

For a while they say nothing, just stare and touch. Eren’s hands snake up to cup Armin’s jaw that keeps getting more defined. Both of them are nineteen, still growing, and Eren can never see what a handsome man Armin will grow into. Will he keeps his soft features? Or will he has a growth spurt to grow really tall and broad-shouldered? Eren will never have the answer.

But Eren has this.

This Armin that’s his. This Armin wants him. This Armin gave his firsts to Eren and given Eren’s firsts. He’ll take it, he’ll keep it till the day he dies.

Small dreams partially coming true. Is it still better than dead dreams?

“You don’t have to say anything,” Eren adds, knowing he still visits Annie, still has indescribable feelings for her. It doesn’t stop Eren leaning to kiss him by the sunlight roots. This part of Armin will forever be his, Annie can have the rest of Armin’s life.

Armin nuzzles closer, face buried in the crook of his neck. Shaky breaths hit Eren’s skin, arms tightening around his torso.

“I wish we have more time,” Armin’s voice broke, “I wish we’re not.... here.”

Eren hugs him closer, letting his heart falls. He knows Armin doesn’t mean it the same way as Eren would, but he lets himself wishing for it too. Wishing that this was another world, in another time, where they can be something and have more than a decade to live.

“I know. Me too.” Eren doesn’t let himself sob, so he just curled.

They say nothing more. Just holding each other until they fall asleep.

Or, only until Armin does.

Eren counts the seconds to his deep breaths before detaching himself from Armin. He doesn’t look away from Armin, not even when he picked up his clothes from the floor and dresses. Eren let one more tear escape as he put one last kiss on Armin’s temple and lips. Eren tucks him under the blanket and closes the curtains so the morning light won't be too harsh on him.

One last look before he closes the door, let his chest cave in, nurse the hurt that’ll last his short lifetime. Eren takes a deep breath, wipes his tears, and closes the door gently. Too weak for goodbyes.

Eren sneaks out into the stables, sushing the horse with pets and apples he stole from the pantry. Cloak on, hiding his face, he rides out into the pier where Yelena and Floch are waiting for him there.

Eren retraces his plan with Floch, and goes out on the boat with Yelena towards Marley. She hands him the Eldian uniform that fits him suspiciously well. Eren doesn’t hesitate to pierce one of his eyes and cut his leg.

When he’s finally at the Eldian camp, the despair in his eyes is barely acting.

++++

++++

+++

When they meet again, Armin sees him with nothing but betrayal.

No love left there to scavenge.

But, once upon a time, Eren was wanted for the human he is by someone who could’ve chosen anyone.

Those eyes had looked at him fondly. He was precious to someone.

His small dream did come true.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

I just found a chengxian blog and checked out a fanfic - just to see how they worked around wangxian - I’m always curious and sometimes this kind of thing gives me insight I didn’t realise was present - but jfc, the delusion is real.

Now I know, it’s bad form to go look for this stuff and shit on a ship, and I’m not shitting on the very concept of chengxian. Hell, before the fall of LP, I could even see something? Something unhealthy and all sorts of unbalanced but okay sure. And AUs of course. Either way, to each their own.

But these post-resurrection or even worse, post canon fics are hilarious.

Because suddenly we’re all forgetting just how gone WWX is for LWJ because they have similar interests (music and literature), morals (you know, being good) and have always been equals (in talent) - and instead we have WWX being a miserable drunk and hating CR because LWJ gives in too easily, he doesn’t have enough pushback to stimulate him (are we forgetting how this relationship started?) and it just baffles me.

Why it baffles me is the lack of awareness. Do they actually believe this? I mean, I’ve read some XiYao fics and some of those shippers are very well aware of the effed up dynamics at play. Sure, they mess around with it, give Yao some benefit of the doubt, make a lot of canon divergences, but these guys just see everything through opaque rose coloured glasses and somehow try to justify it and I don’t really know how they function...

Btw I’m a CQL only but with a healthy respect for the other forms but CQL really did mess with minds when you see JC clapping for WWX during the archery thing (albeit with a constipated smile and he didn’t even participate) while the donghua which is closer to the novel clearly shows us that he was upset at not winning himself - this is apparently a very clear sign of his adoration and of course justifies how he basically led to WWX throwing himself off a cliff because the irrational grape would have led to both wangxian falling.

Just🤦🏼‍♀️

I'm dealing with a migraine so hopefully what I put here isn't too mean in regards to this ship.

I don't in anyway care what others ship given that I myself lowkey ship ridiculous things that have no romantic basis in the material (and given I respect the author I see exactly what she means that none other than the purely romantic pairs shown in MDZS are meant to be seriously interpreted as romantic in canon). But hey, I like shallow, I like the effed up dynamic in NieYao and XueXiao and like the shallowness of X!cheng for fun what if's. But you (general you but for the stans specifically) have got to admit when something is just for shallow fun without demeaning the real work itself and hate the main core of it and changing the dynamics to be so wildly OOC because you are personally salty (You look like a major Karen doing this shit and are fucking adults sounding like those middle school shit heads).

I also have a whole fanon conspiracy that Jiang Cheng works as a false love interest and as an unrequited fucked up crush/obsession since I personally feel it adds more to Jiang Cheng's depths in terms of exploration for FAN works.

"Do they actually believe this?"

Yes, they honestly do believe, in all their tiny galaxy brained power that this ship is somehow superior and has romantic chemisty along with needing to have been the focused CP. I will point out it is really not even what I would consider a popular pair given it has just under 2k on AO3 alone for the Western base along with the Untamed/MDZS having the largest audience for Danmei works there. Lofter itself has it's own top 100 ships with Jiang Cheng's most popular being X!cheng by a large margin similar to it's Western stats.

If we breakdown it's rankings for both

AO3: Rank 2 of overall ship works 2020: Wangx!an

Rank 55: X!cheng

with ChengX!an being too low in numbers to rank in.

Lofter overall ship works 2020: Rank 1: Wangx!an (with X!anwang ranking again at 66)

Rank 13: X!cheng

Rank 48: Xiancheng (and yes this is a very important distinction as it denotes the "dominate" one in the pair)

If we were to mesh these together with tumblr stats in a similar way the overall would still be Wangxian ranking high as Rank 1 in the Untamed/MDZS tag, overall ships Rank 13 and the only MXTX pair to be featured.

After that digression, regardless of the interpretations, even with Wang ZhouCheng he himself only played up the sibling aspect of the relationship as was in script, it does not have the supposed chemistry they speak of when they slap the Wangx!an one on it. God damn if I have to see this Cuckji shit from these shippers one more time my eyes will roll on the floor and melt from the stupid, which is ironic since Jiang Cheng himself was the canon Cuck who's bro got swept off his feet by the canon Chad. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jiang Cheng through several passages in the book shows that his downfall was his jealousy of Wei Wuxian as his own person that did not listen to him specifically but it was never in terms of romance at the base of what MXTX was showing simple as that. This was shown with Wei Wuxian's interest in Lan Wangji, him saving Lan Wangji and to a point MianMian, as well as the Wen Remnants because it simply left Jiang Cheng what he considered more work and trouble. He cared about Wei Wuxian in so much as Wei Wuxian didn't make a splash for the reputation of Yunmeng Jiang while hypocritically having made use of Wei Wuxian during the war and turning around to be jealous of the devotion Wei Wuxian had during that time due to the attention Wei Wuxian garnered. Jiang Cheng simply did not think he had to extend some sort of actual good will to Wei Wuxian since he felt he had given enough of that just by the sake of Jiang Fengmian taking him in as a disciple and raising him. HOW you get Wei Wuxian having romantic inclination out of this, I can't say as I am not enlightened enough for the wonders of ChengX!an and apparently want to fuck MXTX who I have never met or know, or, want to fuck the very gay leads (who do not exist) despite being a lesbian.

[leemaht]

haikyuu!! headcanons

falling for their new manager

karasuno edition

part 2: hinata, kageyama, yamaguchi, tsukishima

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

warnings: none

pairings: hinata x reader; kageyama x reader; yamaguchi x reader; tsukishima x reader

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

for this thread i will use the same initial situation but there will be an individual route for every character

hinata

i’m really sorry. i have real problems thinking about him in a romantic situation. he is baby.

you were a friend of hitoka and were in the advanced class with her. the graduation of the 3rd years was due and she was worried that she had to manage the whole team alone soon. so she asked you because lucky for her you hadn’t joined any clubs yet.

she brought you by the gym that day and announced you to be manager in training. kiyouko was overjoyed.

the team greeted you and how else could it be, hinata came jumping to you asking millions of questions

‘are you a friend of yachi? do you like volleyball? have you ever played? do you wanna watch me spike some balls? do-’

‘stop, asking so much at once chibi.’ tsukishima came to your rescue

‘what diD YoU cAll ME?’ tsukishima and yamaguchi chuckled at hinata’s reaction.

you bowed

‘my name is y/l/n y/n, i am from class 1-7. i will be in your care.’

‘ohhh. 1-7 that is one of the clever people classes right?’ hinata again

‘well, advanced courses, yes.’

‘woah. are you good in modern japanese?’

‘y/n is at the top of our class in every subject.’ yachi cut in. you impressed the team,really.

‘wow,i am really bad at it. i never got anything over a 13.’

‘i could teach you if you want.’ and he jumped out of happiness as he instantly accepted.

for the next to weeks you would give hinata 2 private tutoring lessons per week and his grades would gradually get better.

‘i got 67! 67!’ they just had gotten their tests back and he came running into the gym where you already waited. he was so overjoyed that he hugged you and you hugged back. as soon as he noticed what was going on he scooted away and excused himself. 

his heart beat so fast and his face was really red. suga was really worried when hinata came into the changing room and was bright read

‘goodness, are you sick?’ he felt his forehead. ‘you are really hot.’

‘n-no i don’t think so. i was ok just a minute ago?’

‘what happened then?’

‘i-i kinda hugged y/n by accident and now my heart is beating really fast.’

and suga and tanaka started cheering

‘hinata, that’s called having a crush.’

‘a crush...’

kageyama

you were a friend of hitoka and were in the advanced class with her. the graduation of the 3rd years was due and she was worried that she had to manage the whole team alone soon. so she asked you because lucky for her you hadn’t joined any clubs yet.

she brought you by the gym that day and announced you to be manager in training. kiyouko was overjoyed.

the team greeted you and how else could it be, hinata came jumping to you asking millions of questions

‘are you a friend of yachi? do you like volleyball? have you ever played? do you wanna watch me spike some balls? do-’

‘stop, asking so much at once chibi.’ tsukishima came to your rescue

‘what diD YoU cAll ME?’ tsukishima and yamaguchi chuckled at hinata’s reaction.

you bowed

‘my name is y/l/n y/n, i am from class 1-7. i will be in your care.’

‘and well, i played a little in middle school.’ hinata caught fire

‘oooohhhhh, what position?’

‘setter.’

kageyama slid in and repeated hinata’s behaviour

‘in which school were you? how long did you play? were-’ suga hand flapped his head before he could continue

the rest of the practice was normal. kiyoko and yachi explained your tasks and daichi introduced you to the rest of the team. since you already played volleyball it was unnecessary to explain the rules to you.

coach ukai tried to impress you but failed.

he made kageyama and hinata do the oddball quick and expected you to be baffled but instead you looked pensive. you walked over to kageyama and started explaining.

‘you are tossing him directly, but if you changed your posture like this...’ you demonstrated ‘... you would be able to build up more pressure and toss the ball even faster.’

alright this boy was so surprised that you actually were able to give him constructive criticism. this is love.

for the next few weeks he found himself even more motivated to play his best whenever he felt you were watching him and often went to get your approval and tips

he felt this tingly sensation in his stomach whenever he was talking to you and he could not explain why

after it got unbearable he went to suga for help who got daichi and noya. the three of them had to explain the concept of love and having a crush. they were so supportive, even noya who had occasionally flirted in your direction as well.

things started to add up for kageyama. everything they told him was an exact explanation of his feelings. the sting in his heart when you talked to somebody else, the happiness he felt when you laughed and so on.

he had to acknowledge it. he was in love with you.

yamaguchi

you were a friend of hitoka and were in the advanced class with her. the graduation of the 3rd years was due and she was worried that she had to manage the whole team alone soon. so she asked you because lucky for her you hadn’t joined any clubs yet.

she brought you by the gym that day and announced you to be manager in training. kiyouko was overjoyed.

the team greeted you and how else could it be, hinata came jumping to you asking millions of questions

‘are you a friend of yachi? do you like volleyball? have you ever played? do you wanna watch me spike some balls? do-’

‘stop, asking so much at once chibi.’ tsukishima came to your rescue

‘what diD YoU cAll ME?’ tsukishima and yamaguchi chuckled at hinata’s reaction.

you bowed

‘my name is y/l/n y/n, i am from class 1-7. i will be in your care.’

yamaguchi bowed as well out of reflex. he was the only one though which made you chuckle

‘you are an idiot.’ ‘gomen, tsuki’

in the next following weeks you turned out to be a nice, caring and sweet person

you cared so much for the team and did everything in your might to help out. you talked to him occasionally and he was the one you asked for help. when he wondered why you answered: ‘you are the easiest to talk to, because you seem so nice. but i can stop if-’ ‘nonono that’s not what i meant.’

it turned out that you lived near his neighborhood so both yams and tsuki walked with you until you had to part ways.

in this times he noticed that he felt way happier than he had before, he blushed and laughed so much around you and felt empty whenever you were not there. he was sad and jealous when you helped out the others or when noya and tanaka flirted with you. well you were gorgeous after all. yes, he thought you were really pretty. and clever. and kind. and he liked your laugh. and he loved it when-

wait. love?

that was when he realized. in the following few days he got really shy around you, he observed to confirm his feelings. confirmed.

after that he met up with tsuki to get help.

‘i think i have feelings for y/n.’

‘wow, what a surprise.’ ‘what?’

‘did you really think i didn’t know that? you act even stupider than normal.’

he is still supportive though. yams is his best friend after all.

tsukishima

you were a friend of hitoka and were in the advanced class with her. the graduation of the 3rd years was due and she was worried that she had to manage the whole team alone soon. so she asked you because lucky for her you hadn’t joined any clubs yet.

she brought you by the gym that day and announced you to be manager in training. kiyouko was overjoyed.

the team greeted you and how else could it be, hinata came jumping to you asking millions of questions

‘are you a friend of yachi? do you like volleyball? have you ever played? do you wanna watch me spike some balls? do-’

‘stop, asking so much at once chibi.’ tsukishima came to your rescue

‘what diD YoU cAll ME?’ tsukishima and yamaguchi chuckled at hinata’s reaction.

you bowed

‘my name is y/l/n y/n, i am from class 1-7. i will be in your care.’

tsukishima turned to hinata who seemed to literally burn with excitement

‘calm down your horses, shorty.’ hinata was about to lose it. you snorted out of true amusement, earning a slightly pouty look from hinata and a side-glance from tsukishima.

in the next few weeks you grew on the salty dinosaur.

yamaguchi initiated some conversations with you and where yams was, tsuki was to be found. you laughed at his sarcastic comments and sometimes joined in. he found out that you two had a similar kind of humor.

he had tried to get to you too, but you didn’t react or countered with similar sarcasm.

the two of them walked you home as your house was in their neighborhood. 

yams shipped you two to death. he saw that you would be good together and knew that tsuki liked you, even though he didn’t know it yet.

the team was really confused that tsuki talked a lot around you without a trace of ill intentions and he smiled. SMILED

one day yams and tsuki were to walk you home again but yams excused himself, leaving the two of you alone. it was pretty late already and dark to it.

you had one of your deep conversations, when you stopped in your tracks.

‘taking roots?’

‘ah, no. look how beautiful the view is.’ you countered as you stared off into the distance. but tsuki didn’t follow your eyes but looked at you.

the stars reflected in your eyes, a small blush tainted your cheeks. you looked so peaceful and pretty. 

wait, pretty?

tsuki’s face reddened madly. and he figured out his feelings and had to think of all the times yams had told him how happy he had looked whenever he was around you.

he couldn’t hold it an longer and stepped closer to you, taking your cheek in his hand and turning your face to face him [what is this sentence?]

and he kissed you passionately, letting all the surpressed emotions he had felt flow into your lips. he felt afraid that you would push him away but you didn’t. you kissed him back nearly instantly as your hands found their way on his neck and his on your waist. after you had to pull off for air you rested your foreheads together.

‘i like you too, idiot.’ you stated with a smile which he immediately returned.

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 39)

“Okay, so… what’s the plan?” Mila looks at Daryl, while pulling the knitted cardigan over her shoulders. “You gonna interrogate him? Tie him up in a chair and go good cop bad cop on him?”

Daryl meets her eyes from the other side of the bed. 

“What, ya’ don’t think he’s gonna have to answer some questions?” He asks, while searching the floor for his shirt. 

The morning sun shines in through the windows in the bedroom and it looks like it’s gonna be another fine day.

Mila dozed off as soon as she laid down in bed next to Juri the night before; after she had a quick but violent shower to get rid of dirty gas station toilet-cooties, and didn’t wake up to Daryl coming to bed or to Jesus strolling into the house in the middle of the night. Baffled to say the least, Mila was therefore greatly surprised when she came out of the bedroom this morning, fifteen minutes prior around eight, and met Jesus who came out of the upstairs toilet.

“Good morning!” He said happily and disappeared down the stairs.

Mila, unable to speak, just gaped and waved back at him lazily, whereupon she closed the bedroom door again and turned to Daryl, who was in the process of turning his sleeveless shirt inside out.  

“Am I still sleeping or did Jesus just walk out of the bathroom?”

“Prolly.” Daryl said with a shrug. 

“Is he just-” Mila paused to find the right words, pointing at the closed bedroom door. “You know, walking around-”

“He escaped.”

“Oh.”  

How he’d freed himself from the townhouse basement no one could figure out, and he didn’t tell them either; Mila was sure they’d captured a wizard.

“I don’t get why everything has to be so hostile.”

“Ya’ gonna teach me ‘bout hostile?” Daryl raises his eyebrows at her.

“Okay fine-” Mila sputters, knowing very well what he refers to. “But this guy isn’t like that- that weird wolf guy. This guy is Houdini-weird, not dangerous.”

“Are ya’ some sort of expert now?”  

“Gut feeling.” Mila replies.

Daryl shakes his head at her words. Mila realizes that it doesn’t sound that convincing, but she gives him a steadfast look; she’s sure about her gut feeling. She looks at Daryl while he buttons the shirt. He must’ve taken a shower too before he went to bed. The brown hair looks tousled, as if he went to bed with it still damp. Her gaze wanders down to the unbuttoned, washed out jeans; he wears boxers underneath for once, something he probably started to do for the first time ever when he realized that there would be a snoring three and a half-year old in the bed too. Mila bites her lip as she rests her gaze at the edge of the boxers, right above his pelvic bone. Her sudden rush of desire, or blunt frantic horniness, is obviously visible, because Daryl frowns at her.

“Ain’t doin’ it in front of the kid.” He nods down at the bed, where Juri still lies asleep, bundled up in the sheets.

“We can put him on the bath rug in the bathroom.” Mila suggests half hearted. “It’s really soft. He’ll just think he’d sleepwalked.”

“Jersey-” Daryl walks around the bed and stops in front of her; softly he lets his fingers run down her hair, playing with it while contemplating under silence. “Fine.”

“About the rug or that you gonna go gently on him?”

“The latter.” Daryl mutters. “Dunno why you care-” He rests his cupped hand at her chin. “I won’t knock him, unless he’s being a-”

“Ap-ap, language.” Mila pulls his hand big to her mouth and gives his fingertips a featherlight kiss. “Thank you.” She places another kiss on his fingers. “I like you when you’re all soft and diplomatic.”

The slightly erotic gesture of tenderness is enough to turn the big man in front of her into water between her fingers. His breath becomes heavier, he exhales through his nostrils and the eyes become soft and the gaze deeper, lingering even.  

“Uhu?”

“Mhm.” She leans in, places her head under his chin and kisses his collarbone, while fingering on the half buttoned shirt. “You know- I’m a good rider, like… really-”

A knock on the door drags them both back to reality.  

“Son of a- what?” Daryl turns and looks at the door that opens slightly and Rick peeks into the bedroom. “Don’t ya’ fucking know how a door works either?!” Daryl mutters huskily.

On the other side of Daryl, Mila chokes a grin. Rick looks questioning, but says nothing about Daryl’s, to him, odd remark; of course he knows how a door works?

“We need to talk.” He just says.

He doesn’t even tell them about what; they already know. Reluctant, Daryl sighs and looks at her.

“Duty calls.” He says, while, discreetly, correcting the crotch on his jeans. 

“Be gentle.” Mila winks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Daryl leaves the bedroom and follows Rick; to talk to him and Michonne about what to do about the ‘situation’ walking around freely in the house. Mila sighs; so much for that ��ride’. Not even a quiet quickie in the bathroom. She turns, combs her fingers through her hair and looks at Juri, lying on the bed with his back against her. The blonde hair looks like a bird’s nest, the only thing missing is a couple of spotted round eggs. What a fun job I have in front of me to untangle that bundle of mess, she thinks to herself and kneels down on the bed. Softly she strokes the boy over the back; the pyjamas are so warm and soft and he smells cosy, a warm, sleepy scent mixed with fabric softener. 

“Prosypaysya, solnyshko.” She coos softly, tickles his warm neck. “Wake up, sunshine.”

Juri starts to move, softly pats his feet towards the covers and rolls over, to face her. He blinks, squints a little with his piercing blue eyes at her.

“It’s time to awake.” Mila says.

With the newly awakened boy in her arms, she then walks down to the kitchen, where she’s met by Jesus, sitting at the kitchen island.

“I’m not gonna ask how you got out.” Mila greets him and puts Juri down on the sofa, to awake at his own pace.

She doesn’t really believe in magic, but growing up in Russia, surrounded by ancient stories and with a grandmother who said she was a psychic and was convinced that she had seen both Baba Yaga and a vodnik, Mila’s quite versed in folklore; no sane Russian child disowned Baba Yaga. 

“Slept well?” Jesus replies with a polite, even hearty smile. 

Mila, still slightly bitter about the black eye and the cracked, aching lip he caused her, doesn’t answer at first; instead she puts a kettle with water on the stove and scoops up two abundant spoons of instant coffee in two mugs; the chances of her being in a better mood after she had some coffee is quite high. She needs that first sip of coffee to function. She throws a glance out of the window; where’s Carol? Her eyes are then drawn to a mint green tin can with a pattern of daisies around the brim. Smiling, Mila lifts the lid and peeks inside. Of course, Carol, she thinks with a smile. White chocolate chip cookies. She and Juri must have baked them the day before. She puts the lid back on and turns to the two cups with instant coffee. She awakes from her thoughts -mostly revolving around how unearthly tasty a really fucking strong, big salty caramel latte would be, instead of this sad, colored liquid that nowadays has to go under the name ‘coffee’- when she hears the water bubbling on the stove. 

“I think the water’s done.”

Mila peers at Jesus.

“Yeah I got ears-” She replies surly. “And eyes.”

“Not a morning person?” He asks. 

“I’m not super happy with you.” Mila peers at him as she pours the hot water into the cups and takes out two spoons from a drawer. “No offence, Houdini, but you gave me a black eye.” She hands him one of the cups and stirs around the coffee powder in the water. Not exactly a caramel latte with two extra shots, she thinks and sighs. 

“Sorry about that.” Jesus says. “You’ve ever thought about a career in wrestling?”

“I'm good at running, shooting and drinking-” Mila takes a sip of the blant coffee. “I haven’t got the muscles.”

“I’d say the opposite.” Jesus drinks and makes a grimace; there’s a pretty valid reason why everyone says no when she offers them coffee. According to everyone in Alexandria it’s like drinking tar. “At least you got the spirit.”

“Okay-” Mila sighs. “How did you get out?”

“Magic.” The man in front of her smiles. 

Over at the couch, Juri has finally awakened fully. He climbs down and hurries over to the kitchen and demands to be held; awake or not, he’s always in desperate need to be close by, just in case he needs a cuddle. Mila lifts him from the floor and puts him down on the counter.

“Ready for breakfast?” She asks and Juri nods eagerly. “Let me just finnish my coffee.” Mila looks at Jesus. “You can’t possibly be named Jesus.” She asks and raises her eyebrow at him. “I mean, I get why-” She nods towards his face, the beard and the long hair. “But-”

“Paul.” He smiles, a genuinely kind smile, and offers her his hand over the kitchen island. “Paul Rovia.” 

Mila looks at it, before taking it and giving it a firm shake; like a car dealer who’s just managed to sell a poor fellow an overpriced car. 

“Mila.” She replies and nods at Juri. “My son, Juri.”

With a bright smile Juri waves at Paul from where he sits on the kitchen counter in his pyjamas; Paul’s face bursts into a happy grin. Juri’s sunny demeanor usually has that effect on people.

“Any last name?” He then asks. “Just- you know. Formality.”

“Sergeyevna.” Mila says, takes the tin jar from the other counter, opens it and offers him a cookie; there, now they have put down the hatchet. “So, what should I call you? Sorry, but Jesus-” She grimaces and shakes her head. “Feels odd.”

“Paul’s fine.” He smiles as he takes a cookie and once again looks at Juri. “You’re a lil’ charmer, aren’t you?”

Juri nods and makes the ‘I know that’ sign with his hand, which makes Mila grin. Of course he knows he is, she thinks and takes out the big pack of Quaker oats from a cabinet. She pours the oats at random into a pot, covers them with water and puts the pot on the stove. It will be enough for both her and Juri. She looks up from the pot just in time to see Juri’s small hand being pulled away from the tin jar.

“No.” Mila says, takes the jar and puts it back on the other counter. “You get a cookie after you have breakfast.” 

Juri nods reluctantly, then gestures ‘okay’. 

“He’s mute?” She hears Paul ask behind her.

“He is.” Mila turns around in search of the salt. “Don’t need a voice to be the most charming rascal in the apocalypse though.” She smiles at Juri and winks.

“Is he the father?” Paul asks. “You know- the big guy?”

“Daryl?” Mila shakes her head as her eyes land on the pack of salt. “No, I don’t know who Juri’s father is.” She shrugs a little. “A happy accident.” She pauses and puts a pinch of salt into the pot. “Daryl’s-” 

Yeah, what exactly is Daryl? Mila doesn’t have to think for long. Juri tugs at Paul’s coat sleeve and places his thumb against his forehead, with his fingers outstretched. 

“Have you told Daryl?” Mila smiles at Juri while she opens a drawer and takes out a wooden spoon to stir the oats.

Before Paul can ask what Juri meant by his gesturing, the front door opens and Glenn, Maggie and Abraham enter. Mila greets them with a ‘morning’ and Juri waves frantically at everyone. From the stairs, Rick, Michonne, Daryl and Carl appear.

“Nice talking to you.” Paul winks at her, gets off the bar stool and walks over to the dining table, where they all sit down, looking at Paul.

Mila turns her attention back to her and Juri’s breakfast in the pot. Juri stirs the wooden spoon as she gets honey out of another cupboard and the home made oat milk from the fridge. She listens with half an ear to the conversation at the table while she portions the steaming oatmeal into bowls, puts a spoonful of creamy honey on top and then puts the oat milk over it. She places Juri at the counter next to the window, he likes to look out at the trees and the birds, and then starts to feed him; one spoon for Juri, then one spoon for her. He doesn’t need to hear the grown-up talk and Mila’s too tired to care, well, except for when Rick asks Paul how he got out.

“One guard can't cover two exits, or third floor windows. Knots untie and locks get picked.” Paul replies. “Entropy comes from order, right?”

Mila grins to herself while taking another spoon; it hurts to chew. Apparently he trudged around a lot during the night, peeking at their arsenal, their storage. Juri eats with a big appetite and has soon finished his breakfast.

“Bravo.” Mila praises and scrapes the last of her oats from her bowl. “How about-” She puts the bowls into the sink and turns back to Juri. “You and I hang out today, all day? I need to repay you for not bringing back those marshmallows.”

Excited beyond measure, Juri starts to clap his small hands, which causes the group at the table to pause and turn to look at them. Mila puts her hands around Juri’s and hushes softly, resting her forehead against his. 

“It’s a date.” She whispers and gives Juri a kiss on the nose. “Now- hurry upstairs, pick some clothes and pour a bath, I’ll join you in a minute.”

Smiling brighter than a sky full of stars, Juri scurries over the hardwood floors and starts to climb up the stairs while the group around the table gets up. Glenn, Maggie and Abraham leave, Abe gives her a cheeky wink and a ‘lookin’ sharp, lady’, probably referring to her ravaged face. Daryl gives the big, red haired guy’s back a squinting, dark gaze as he disappears out the door. For some reason she feels flattered about the ‘Dixon jealousy’ today; maybe because she feels anything but appealing. A confidence boost. 

“So?” Mila asks. “What’s been said?”

“He says he’s part of a community.” Daryl replies, referring to Paul. “Raises livestock and crops.”

“Okay. And?” 

“His job’s to find other communities to trade with.”

“That’s it?” Mila asks, slightly disappointed; given his Ninja-skills she’d at least thought he was part of a special force or something. “Okay. What’d you say then? We don’t have anything to trade?”

He thinks we may be in a position to help each other. They got livestock. Grows things.” Daryl pauses. “We’re gonna go back with him. To his community. Hilltop. See if he’s tellin’ the truth. If he does, we’ll see what they’ve got to offer. He also said they’re trading with other groups.”

Mila raises her eyebrows.

“They have contact with other communities?”

“At least that’s what he claims.”

“You think he’s lying?”

Daryl shrugs; apparently he doesn’t know what he thinks about it. On one hand; another community is something they, he and Rick, have talked about for a while. There had to be more people like them out there, other communities with survivors, they knew it. They had expected, or hoped, to be the ones who discovered the other group, not the other way around. The tables have turned and now they’re vigilant. Even though he doesn’t say anything, Mila sees exactly what he’s thinking. The thought has struck her as well. What if Paul Rovia belongs to the group they saw looting the arms deal?

“Does ya’ gut feeling say something ‘bout that?” Daryl asks with a wryly, barely noticeable smile upon his lips - sometimes it seems like they really can read each other’s minds.

“Shut it.” Mila shoves him softly. “No. No, he might fit in at that Harry Potter-school though. How else did he get out of the basement than by magic? I’m not convinced what he said before was the truth.”

“Magic ain’t real, Jersey.”

“At this point, I’m ready to believe it is. Living dead walking around, magic-” Mila shivers throughout her body; it’s as if her dead grandmother was in the room, taunting her for not believing in her wacko stories about trolls and other foul creatures. “You leaving soon?”

“As soon as possible.” 

She nods. 

“Ya’ coming?”

“I’ll pass.” Mila replies. She’s had it with adventures that, more often recently, ends with her getting bruises for a few days. Besides, she wants to spend the day with Juri. “Carol and I hold the positions here.”

“Good.” Daryl lightly strokes her arm. “Where’s she by the way?”

“Out, I believe.” Mila smiles. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

“I ain’t.”

“Worried or cute?” She gets a light buff in reply to her cheeky question. “Carol’s fine on her own.” Mila ensures her big, worried archer. “Are you going to prepare for the trip?”

“Nah, I’m ready.”

Mila smiles faintly. Had she been Daryl, she would probably at least have changed her shirt to one with sleeves. He notices her smile, frowns a little.

“What?”

“I like that shirt.” 

“Ya’ flirting now?” 

“Yeah.” Mila nods. “Might be because of the concussion.”

“Ya’ didn’t have one last night.” Daryl says doubtfully.

“No, you’re right. But I am actually flirting with you.”

With an entertaining, barely visible, smile, Daryl takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger; a gesture that says more than he does verbally.

“Jersey-”

Mila sighs; she may well suppress the tingling in her body for a few more hours.

“Fine.” Mila pushes Daryl towards the door. “Off you go. Discover new civilizations, Dr. Dixon.” She proclaims theatrically.

In response, she gets a teasing middle finger over the broad shoulder, before Daryl disappears out the front door. Mila turns just as Rick scurries down from the upper floor, holding Judith in his arms. 

“You’re stayin’ behind?” He asks.

Mila holds out her arms; as if to show that her outfit says the most about the matter.

“Okay.” Rick nods. “Good.” He’s just about to say something, but Mila interrupts him:

“I’ll watch Carl too. Promise.”

“I think he’s sneakin’ out.” Rick says, while letting Judith chew on his finger. “He and Enid-”

“-Are teenagers.” Mila shrugs while putting the two coffee cups into the sink. “Be glad Carl’s not doing the shit I did when I was a teen.” She walks around the kitchen island and gives Rick an encouraging pat on the arm. “We’ll be alright.” She smiles overly excited at Judith. “Yes we aaare!”

As Rick closes the front door, Michonne comes down the stairs. As soon as their eyes meet, Mila grins broadly; her missing Jesus trotting into the house in the middle of the night was nothing compared to the disappointment she felt when she learned that he had stormed into Rick’s bedroom, only to discover that Rick and Michonne were lying naked in bed. Michonne raises a warning finger at her.

“Don’t-” She alerts. “Not a word.”

“Ohh I have a lot of words I want to say about it.” Mila chuckles. “How about; finally!”

Michonne says nothing, just smiles. As if Mila didn’t realize before that there was ‘something’ going on. They don’t have time to say anything else on the matter; they are interrupted by Paul, who emerges from the toilet.

“Ready?” Michonne asks him. 

“Yup.” Paul looks over at Mila. “Hey- I’m really sorry about the blackeye.” He looks sincerely sorry. “We friends?”

“Hm, fine.” Mila gives him a sharp gaze. “But I want my grumpy archer back. So no funny business while you’re gone. Then we’re friends.”

Paul nods gravely; hopefully, he doesn’t dare to pull any ugly tricks after yesterday’s haywire ride. In addition, Mila offered him both coffee and cake earlier, so he owes her. She follows them out of the house, still wearing her sleepwear; yoga pants, t-shirt and the knitted cardigan, to the motorhome. Maggie stands by and watches the motorhome. The young woman looks worried, deep into her own thoughts.

“See it as a honeymoon.” Mila suggests with a smile at Maggie as she approaches. “Minus the fancy hotel, the rose petals...” She continues jokingly, in an attempt to cheer her up.

Maggie smiles a little, but there’s obviously something on her mind.

 “Things don’t really go by the book ‘round here.” She replies. “I’m scared, Mila.” The green eyes look worried. “The crops, the baby, other people-” She sighs. Apparently she’s been pondering a lot lately.

“Hey-” Mila grabs Maggie by the hand. “Stop it. We all got days when everything feels like shit.” And those days you spend in bed getting jagged, Mila thinks to herself; that’s at least what she does. “But it’s gonna be alright.” She smiles. “We have made it this far. You’ve made it this far. See it as an- an adventure. And tomorrow is another day.”

Although Mila herself finds it difficult to absorb her own clichéd words, they seem to instill hope in Maggie; somehow Mila thinks that booze works better in her case. 

“Wow, where did the motivational speaker come from?” Maggie smiles, squeezes her hand warmly. “Thanks.” She looks down on her bump. “You know I’ll need all the help I can possibly get when this one pops out, right?”

“Yeah I know.” Mila replies. “But we’re not there yet, thankfully.” She winks. “I have to sober up until then. Well, off you go, adventurer.”

They part, Maggie walks over to Glenn and they get inside the motorhome. Daryl shuts the small hood and brushes off oil from his hands on his jeans. Mila wraps her cardigan tighter around her; she’s still in her tank top and yoga pants, standing bare feet on the hard asphalt.  

“Ya’ sure you’ll be alright?” Daryl asks.

“I’ll be fine.” Mila ensures. Honestly, she thinks, there’s not much that can go wrong when hanging out with a three and a half-year old. “Be careful.” She says and places a quick kiss on his lips. “Don’t punch people.”

Daryl gruffs in reply.

“Let’s chew up some asphalt!” Abraham hollers behind him.

“See ya’.” Daryl places a quick kiss on her mouth, before getting into the motorhome and shutting the door.

Mila and Carl, holding Judith in his arms, watch as the engine of the motorhome starts and it rolls away along the road, before disappearing. 

“Do you think it's safe?” Carl looks at her. “This other place?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Mila replies, while letting Judith grab on to her fingers and play with them. “But I hope so.” She meets Carl’s eyes, smiles and caresses his thick, brown hair. “Come on, let’s get inside. Juri’s having a bath-” Mila smiles at the girl on Carl’s arm. “You wanna bath too?”

Happily, Judith giggles; no sane toddler says no to a bath with rubber duckies and lots of bubbles.  

It turns into a peaceful, playful morning. Juri and Judith bathe for probably an hour under Mila’s supervision; over and over she has to push the floating rubber ducks under the water, for them to jump out of the water again. Judith laughs to the point of her getting hiccups. With one toddler on each arm, drenched in bath water from head to toe, Mila carries them both downstairs.

“Ah, great!” She exclaims just as Carl and Enid walk into the house. “Keep an eye on these two as I get dressed, will you?”

Mila disappears up the stairs before she gets an answer. In the bedroom she removes her wet clothes and drops them on the bathroom floor. She quickly puts on a pair of jeans, glances at the long scar that runs along her stomach, before hiding it with a t-shirt. At least that’s easier to hide than the blackeye. She puts on a pair of socks, sticks her feet into a pair of Birkenstocks and hurries back downstairs. Carl and Enid sit on the carpet in the living room with Judith, still wrapped up in a lilac towel with flowers, while Juri runs around, naked, wearing his towel as a cape.

“Come here you!” Mila sweeps the naked toddler from the floor. “What have I said about being naked Batman?”

Silently giggling, Juri tells her that she’s wrong; he’s not Batman, he’s Spiderman.

“Well, first of all, Spidey doesn’t have a cape-” Mila presses her mouth into his soft belly and makes a loud farting noise, while Juri cries with laughter, silently. “Secondly-” Mila says, while lifting her head. “We gotta find you some clothes.”

“There’s some folded stuff in the laundry room.” Carl gets up from the floor and takes Judith in his arms.

They help out to sort the folded laundry while finding clothes for the toddlers. Mila’s heart swells when she observes Carl with Judith; he’s so much more grown up, so wise and kind, than she ever would have been able to at that age. He dresses Judith, who sits still on top of the washer and calmly lets herself get dressed. Juri on the other hand is in a rowdy mood. Carol returns, stained with blood, in time to see Mila chasing a laughing Juri, dressed in underwear, socks and shirt, around the ground floor; she carries a bucket in her hand, filled with acorns. She catches Juri with her free arm, like a hook, and hands him over to Mila, who can finally put him in a pair of trousers. 

“Thanks.” Mila sighs and brushes her hair out of her face when she has closed the button in the small pair of jeans. “I hope he’s not this cheeky when he’s with you.” She looks at the acorns while Carol assures her that Juri’s usually very angelic when they hang out together; it’s probably just an extra exciting day. Mila nods towards the bucket. “What are the, the-” The english word seems to have disappeared from her vocabulary. “those for?”

Carol looks down at the bucket. 

“You’d be surprised what you could do with acorns.” She smiles, mysteriously. 

“And the blood?”

“An unpleasant surprise.”

“Ah.” Mila nods understanding; a walker. “The others left a while ago.”

While Carol puts the bucket down in the kitchen, Mila tells her about Paul Rovia and the others, Rick, Michonne, Abraham, Daryl, Glenn and Maggie, leaving with him to go to Hilltop. Carol receives the news with calm, a trait Mila loves about her; by now not much seems to surprise her. As Carol disappears to take a shower and change clothes, Juri wonders what they should do first during their extra special fun-day. Mila suggests crafting; Juri loved crafting when he went to daycare and always brought home necklaces, drawings and scrapbooking cards to her. When she was looking for new sheets in the house that belonged to Jessie one day, she found a whole lot of craft materials in a cupboard; Jessie wouldn't need it anymore, so Mila took it. 

They spread the material over the dining table, Mila picks out Capri Sun as snacks and starts to make beaded necklaces and bracelets while Carol returns back after a while, and starts to bake more cookies with the acorns. Deeply concentrated, Juri methodically places pearl after pearl on the small wire, with his tongue between his teeth. He makes necklaces and bracelets for his ‘big brother’ Carl, ‘auntie Carol’, Mila gets a necklace and for Daryl Juri makes a bracelet and a little pendant to hang on his crossbow.

“That will be very nice.” Carol assures as Juri holds up the pendant for her to see, made with beads in all sorts of shapes and colors. “Daryl will be very happy.” She smiles. “I will wear my necklace every day from now on, sweetie.”

While the cookies are in the oven, Carol quickly sweeps up a vegetable soup for lunch. Just in time for lunch, Aaron pops in and joins Mila, Juri, Carol and Judith around the table to eat. Mila sits in-between Juri and Judith and has a full time job making sure Judith doesn't play with her food and tells Juri to stop making another bracelet, this time for Aaron.

“You can finish it after lunch.” Mila says, for the fourth time, before Juri listens, but by then he’s already done and stretches over the table to hand Aaron the bracelet.

“Thank you.” Aaron looks tenderly at the bracelet. “The nicest gift I’ve ever received.” His genuine expression of gratitude makes Juri blush behind his second package of Capri Sun. “I’d love to have kids on my own.” Aaron looks at Juri with glistening eyes. “They’re amazing.” He sighs. “But these times-” He shakes his head.

“You can borrow mine whenever you’d like.” Mila suggests while scooping up the soup in her spoon, pouring it down her still aching mouth. “Besides, you’re already uncle Aaron.”

Juri nods at Aaron at the other side of the table; he’s got a lot of uncles and aunts all of a sudden. But only one big brother, he assures them through his gestures.

“Yeah, there’s only one Carl.” Mila agrees.

Juri points at Judith.

“And only one Judith.” Mila nods. “And since you’re older than Judith, you get to show how to behave at the dining table. Like, you’re not supposed to make bracelets while eating.”

After lunch, Aaron thanks Carol for the lunch and heads off to the construction site, Carol clears the table from bowls and spoons and leaves to go and hand out the still steaming warm cookies to the Alexandria residents. Mila takes on the mission to put Judith to sleep, while Juri finishes off his second portion of vegetable soup at the table, now fully occupied with his walkman. It’s apparently completely impossible to sit and eat without amusement; on the one hand, Mila understands him. She herself likes to have a book or a newspaper with her at the dining table. Before the outbreak, when they lived in Brooklyn, she loved to eat in front of the TV when she was alone; channel surfing until she found a channel with a program about 'tanks in the first world war', 'ancient sharks eating ships' or 'grown men running around in the dark looking for ghosts'. 

Softly Mila sings the girl to sleep while stroking the soft, light brown hair. She sings a Russian lullaby from her childhood, the one her mother used to sing to her when she’d had a nightmare; a heartbreaking song about a dying child. In hindsight, Mila’s surprised she could even fall asleep at all after hearing that song, but the way her mother sang it as they lied next to each other in Mila’s bed, was like being swept in a blanket of protection, a safe embrace from the bad dreams. Then it didn’t matter that Vanya died and was buried the next day. Mila softly strokes the now sleeping girl over her cheek, smiles and leaves the room. 

“Wow, two whole rounds of soup!” Mila exclaims, as she returns to the dining room and Juri, proud beyond measures, shows her two short, tubby fingers. “Bozhe moy, I gotta find you new clothes soon, you’ll grow like a sprout-” She says as she helps him down from the chair. “So, nap or no nap?”

Juri shakes his head; no nap today. Instead he points at the kitchen island, where Carol’s left a couple of cookies on a plate. With the big cookie in a firm grip, Juri announces that he wants to have a dance party. He’s high on sugar from the Capri Sun and needs to let off some steam, pronto! Said and done, Mila runs upstairs, again, collects their dear collection of cassette tapes, runs downstairs and puts a cassette in the stereo in the living room. Having small children is a single gym workout; never a quiet moment. Juri wastes no time and starts to jump around to Van Halen’s “Dance the night away” with the cookie in his hand. Her heart overflows with love as Mila, smiling, watches as the little person moves around on the carpet, making his sporadic, spontaneous moves to the music. Sometimes he takes a bite out of the cookie.

Carl and Enid return just in time to see Juri make a pirouette to “Mr. Blue Sky”.

“Hey, great moves, dude!” Carl greets him. 

They sit down on the couch and watch Juri dance, while Mila sorts the crafting supplies; she has a feeling they’re done making bracelets by now. Activities shift quickly when you’re a child and as a mother, Mila is left to clean up. But when “Dance in the dark” comes on she can’t refrain from wanting to dance; yeez Louise, she loves this song. She lets herself be dragged out on the living room carpet by Juri and shakes her head, making her hair dance. 

“Dance with us Carl!” Mila pants mid air. “You too, Enid!”

Slightly frightened by the invitation, Enid shakes her head so the brown hair swings around her face. Carl on the other hand rises from the couch, widely smiling, and starts to dance with them. It’s fun, liberating; just dancing around, jumping, making silly moves, while singing their hearts out. 

“Come on!” Carl grabs Enid by the hands and pulls her up on the floor. “Don’t be such a bummer. Let loose!”

“I-” Enid looks anything but pumped.

“Live a little!” Mila encourages; she herself feels very much alive at least. Her heart is pounding and the pulse is at ‘moderately working’. It’s actually quite exhausting to dance. She’s a little impressed that she used to go to parties and dance almost every weekend back in university - in heels, moreover. She looks down at her socks and Birkenstocks. 

When the song fades out and the intro to KC & The Sunshine Band’s “Give it up” they hear a soft thud from the upper floor; Judith must’ve thrown her plushie on the floor.

“I’ll go get her.” Mila says. She lets Carl and Enid continue to dance with Juri, and runs up and gets the now awake, well rested little girl. With Judith locked on her hip she walks downstairs again. Judith points at Carl and starts to wiggle her arms, spits out the pacifier and starts to babble.

“You wanna dance too?” Mila asks, while bouncing Judith on her hip. “Come on, let’s dance.”

With a squealing Judith in her arms Mila sways to the music, hops around and swings the girl around the air. But Judith doesn’t get Mila’s full attention for long; Juri, unaccustomed to competition, soon wants her attention, he also wants to dance in her arms. With Judith on one arm and Juri on the other she moves over the carpet, while the two toddlers laugh excitedly by her, a grown up, acting incredibly funny.

Carol returns from her walk around the community in the middle of the chorus to [song], when Enid has returned to the couch and Carl makes an impressive attempt at a moonwalk.

“I disappear for a moment and poof; I come back to a disco.” She laughs.

“Gotta raise the roof around here.” Mila pants and twirls around with the two toddlers locked at her hips. “Right, malysh?” She gets support from Juri, who strikes a disco finger for Carol to marvel at. “But I would actually need a break now.”

The break is accompanied by “Twistin’ the night away” and more Capri Sun, taken on the couch. Carl playfully fans Judith with the wide-brimmed hat and Mila twists her hair in a sloppy ponytail and curses her poor cardio; it’s gotten pretty bad all of a sudden. That uncomfortable nausea she’s felt on and off the last week begins to creep in and she trembles at what Juri wants to do next. “Ya izmozhden.” Mila says when Juri tells her, with sugar rushed excitement, that he wants to dance more. “I’m exhausted. Mummy’s old.”

As if Juri was going to buy that excuse. He answers her firmly that she’s not old, but that they can go out and draw with the street crayons instead. Mila throws a glance out the window. It’s sunny, looks warm. “Fine.” She replies. “Let’s go, Picasso.”

While sitting on the hot asphalt, drawing with the chunky, chalky crayons Mila’s struck by a feeling she hasn’t felt in a long time; it all feels almost as before the virus. It’s been a very normal day. Just as when Mila had her day’s off from work. On those day’s Juri didn’t go to daycare; instead they did all sorts of fun stuff. They went to the park and occupied the swing sets until some irritated mother asked Mila if she would mind sharing with the other children. On the days Jim had a day off as well they went to coffee shops, had coffee and juice and tried different pastries and cookies. Other days they stayed at home playing, or Mila invited her friends (none of them had children of their own) over for lunch and to watch a day-movie with her and Juri. 

Soon Mila puts down her pastel blue crayon and lies down on the warm asphalt, while Juri continues with his masterpiece; this time a zoo with green tigers and yellow monkeys.

“Right now, life’s pretty nice, right?” She exhales and closes her eyes. In the distance she heard the light, barely noticeable, breeze sweeping through the nearby trees. A gentle, soothing sound that mixes up with the faint sound from the walkman, lying on the ground next to Juri. “Pretty, damn nice.”

[leviaana]

OMG I love all your posts regarding Adrien's family problems. I despise it how people are like "omg why can't he realize he's unwanted, he's not that dumb, gosh give him some agency" like tf. Like yeah totally, let the 14 year old accept that his only parent doesn't love him. It's already rlly hard for people to leave toxic relationships much less children of their parents. Ugh srry to rant, i was just about to follow a blog but saw that they wrote all this out and was like YIIKES?!

thanks anon! and sorry for the super late reply I am not always in a salty mood so some asks keep stacking up in my inbox before I actually answer.

and yes big yikes! it baffles me how some really want him to be all accepting of the constant neglect and abuse he endures, young age aside, who the hell would want to easily accept that they are being abused by a person they love so dearly like a parent? hell, it's not about acceptance here it's about understanding, the realization that this kind of behaviour is in fact abusive that him, and many real kids his age, do not have yet!

adrien does feel neglected and sad, but he never actually blames his father. he tries to be understanding of the fact that his father is a busy man who has lost the love of his life and needs time to heal and grieve. thus, adrien truly believes he is giving his father the space he needs by doing exactly what he expects of him. to us, of course, these sound like excuses that arise from pure denial. but adrien actually has not even reached the point of realizing that he is abused. expecting him to "just accept it" or, imo worse, "stand up for himself already" is completely misreading his situation. adrien still has a long way before any of that can actually happen and that does not even include the traumatic events in chat blanc...

If you can't be patient here then I don't want to see your attitude towards real victims of abuse

[auncyen]

So, my thoughts on bd2 so far (still not done) are both spoilery and...a little salty, so under a cut they go.  I’ll get the good out of the way first.

BDII is pretty nice as a return to the brave/default battle system and asterisk system.  The controls are pretty fluid (once I realized I could press zr to unbrave in the middle of commands lol).  Music and visuals are both nice.  THE CHARACTER THEMES ARE DISTINCTIVE AGAIN (I still like BD1′s set the most, but in BD2 I can tell you which theme is which character’s and uh.  I wouldn’t be able to do that with b2nd’s).  “A Hectic Moment” is very fun.

And then like.  Both the story and parts of the game design are baffling to me.  I was not surprised by the prologue feeling dry because.  BD game.  Partially because it was a BD game I half-expected Sloan to defy his death flag parade and simply be forced to retire due to a wound or something similar but ok, he died.  And first chapter made me hopeful!  I don’t care at all for Orpheus (even as “love to hate” he just ends up kind of “meh”) and Anihal and Bernard felt a bit one note at first, but the twist with Castor where it seemed like his flaw was prejudice and then it was oh no backstabber was good.

The maniacal laughter kind of ruined it a bit, but still, good.  (On this note, Castor and ...pretty much every ch. 2 asterisk holder had me thinking for a while that the asterisks handed out by the woman might have been tampered with and were driving people nuts, but at this point, seems firmly not to be a case, Castor was ax-crazy on his own.  Okay.)  And a later flashback about Anihal and Bernard made me regret a bit that the latter had died.

But like also at this point I’m kind of concerned that there hasn’t been any inner party conflict.  Or like.........internal doubts.  Or anything.

Ch. 2 was initially a bit funny for everyone having The Accent but eventually I got properly into it and, yes, all three people grieving a lost child was pretty touching.

Screw those woods though and why is the institute set up like that??? I know this is an RPG but guys.  Guys.  they’re supposed to be brilliant at that institute, at least one person would have set up the bare minimum of a rope ladder so they didn’t have to deal with the nonsense in between floors.

And then there was Folie.  Folie’s dungeon is AMAZING.  Her job is good.

Her boss fight is utter bs when you’re punished for using two different mage jobs and the character in general is just.............idk.  I kind of preferred Mona’s death being accidental because it seems rather odd for someone like Folie who does not seem particularly attuned to others’ emotions to be like “ah yes, let me kill zis little girl and zen all of these people will be emotionally vulnerable for me to give zem my paintings” --yes, I also hated the accent.

I am of the opinion that there is no bad VA in this game (thus far) but goodness, the direction some of them were given.

Ch. 3 was interesting intrigue wise and the reveal with Adelle was GREAT but it also hinged very heavily on this being a BD game, since they made it obvious from the start of the chapter that, hmm, there’s something funny about her.  (Honestly my guess had been shapeshifting dragon, so I wasn’t quite surprised by her saving Martha, though I WAS a little surprised by Martha not SAVING HERSELF BY JUMPING AWAY BECAUSE SHE WAS A FREAKING DRAGOON.)  The party’s surprise at this is dealt with very quickly.  Elvis’ reaction is kind of cute but it also just...........seems to cement that there’s never going to be any inner-party conflict, and there doesn’t seem to be any internal character conflict either, so it’s kind of just.  Guys.  Pls.  Something interesting.

Coming back to world design: this religion feels so dumb and poorly-designed (Martha is in DIRECT CONTACT WITH THE LORD OF DRAGONS BUT ISN’T TRUSTED TO KNOW HIS WISHES???  THE FAIRY TRIALS ARE A ‘TRADITION’ BUT ALL THE DRAGONS ARE COOL WITH ADELLE???) and why is their holy hall full of crumbling walls and is, in fact, the only place I’ve found so far to “smash rock”?  Yes, it has been bugging me.

the highlight of ch. 4 was Lonsdale, because he might not be the most original character concept, but it was interesting to have an antagonist with morals who has a friendly drink with Seth and warning for him at the tavern.  (Also Seth’s piss-poor job at pretending to be just recovered from a cough for all of one sentence.  And, in my game, while wearing heavy armor.)  The low point was finding out how absolutely pointless Adam is.

It’s just....been very mixed and somewhat mediocre with the story, and lbr bd and b2nd both had issues with story too, but bd had an endearing cast that b2nd heavily borrowed from.  The BD2 warriors of light seem very obviously inspired by bd crew but Seth never grieves his lost crew or misses his hometown or shows any uncertainty about the question of him living again.  Gloria welcomes Elvis and Adelle easily even though they’re both clear about working in self-interest and there are never any trust issues even when Adelle’s concealed identity is revealed.

I’m not saying they should have had the exact same issues (esp since Gloria didn’t have any set up for mistrusting fairies) but they don’t have ANY issues.

I may now be at a point where Gloria does have an issue but it’s just kind of...1) there should have been at least a couple tell-tale hints about this sooner, it could have been as subtle as the king of Halcyonia gently suggesting she consider the marriages which would have painted him first as possibly evil, then as possibly just sexist or out-of-touch, and then finally you realize oh he knew and was hoping they could find other solution and trying to get her to consider a future that wasn’t dying (I think he knows.  or at least I hope because if they gotta do this every 200 years then Gloria????? who knows to pass this down????  were you gonna teach your traumatized companions the secrets of being a vestal-lite as you were dying? because you didn’t.) 2) it’s just kinda.  too late.  A part of me is checked out.  I know there is more and that the bd-style tweeest is finally starting, but this was the end of ch. 5 and both the main crew and story just haven’t been that interesting.  If this wasn’t a bd game and I hadn’t gotten impatient enough about wanting to know about one detail that I spoiled myself for it being a fake ending, there is a high chance that I would have watched the credits, gone “well, okay.  that was the game” and just set it aside.

And then maybe a few days later gone “wait they never explained the book was it buried in some request” because there is SO MUCH buried in requests and reloaded the game, but yeah.  I still wanna fill in the gaps of what I’m missing, but I’m probably going to be slowing my pace and I really doubt I’m going to be active in the fandom because none of the characters have really grabbed my interest that hard.

[the-fiction-witch]

Look Who It Is

REAL LIFE SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: CUTE

"Good morning everybody! Its a beautiful day and I have no filming to do!" Y/n smiled in her bedroom excitedly "However I am as you can tell... because you can see me. I am vlogging but only vlogging because I find if I don't I just start taking to myself like I am so I may as well film it" she explained leaving her bedroom and going to the corridor "I have no clue what I'm doing today all I know is I should probably make a breakfast"

"Morning" Thomas smiled as y/n headed into another room where Thomas laid in a bed tucked up with the duvet as he sat against the headboard

"Look who it is!"

"Hello" he waves

"People get really like... mad when I show you in this bed because they think it's my bed."

"why?"

"Because I have the same bedsheets. okay here's the story. basically, I have two bedrooms and one is mine the other is a guest room but I have the same bed and same linens because... well ikea. and people get mad and confused because they think that you're in my bed"

"I am not this is the guest bed. this is where I Nap at your house"

"You do, even though you live like ten feet away"

"I think it is actually because my bedroom and guest room is the other way around because my bathrooms in the other way to yours. so literally my own bed is like.... there" he laughs poking the wall

"and yet still you sleep here"

"I do,"

"Okay I can make a baby video out of this" she explained sitting on the bed not far from Thomas "the fan facts are that, Thomas lives next door we are literal next-door neighbours and it wasn't intentional or anything I rang Thomas up when I got the house and you where away somewhere I don't know where you were. and you were planning on moving I think you'd settled where you were going. but none of us knew yet"

"Yeah I hadn't told anyone the address, because it was still getting sorted and it lies wasn't finalised so I didn't want to tell everyone like I was moving and give the new address if in two weeks it wasn't going happen"

"yeah, and then it just so happened when had we both got sorted that we actually bought houses not only n the same area of London, not only on the same street but in fact next door to each other, and obviously its London, we didn't learn from the great fire because all our houses are still connected so not only are we best friends, next-door neighbours but we also share one complete wall of our houses." she explained "This wall all the way around the house is shared but his house"

"I genuinely thought about putting a door in at one point"

"You did I remember. you like sketched it on the wall and everything and then we decided against it because it meant moving a lot of both our houses around wit make it work, so we just ended up cutting a door in our fence out in the garden"

"Its how I magically appear"

"You do, as if by magic. but its actually that you go into your garden, though the gate and into my kitchen"

"And then I come nap in your house"

"Or steal my milk!" she yelled "I'm still salty about that. I was filming a video and I heard this creak from downstairs and I go down and see Thomas in my kitchen swapping his empty boddle of milk from his fridge with my full bottle of milk. Bitch was trying to steal my milk"

"I wanted coffee, and I couldn't be bothered to go out."

"I don't mind you coming when you're out of milk I allow that. ts the fact you where swapping my bottle with yours in an attempt to get away with it"  

"I'm sorry"

"I know you're sorry, well sorry you got caught" she laughs "How did you sleep?" she asks resting on his shoulder

"fine, I always sleep fine in here"

"Did they bother you?"

"No they were okay"

"Ohh shit yeah,  have rabbits. Indoor rabbits and this is actually there room most of the time they have a cage and pay area in here for at night the rest of the time I just left them free roam because there very well trained and they only use the toilet in the little tray in the bathroom"

"There not to dissimilar to cats. just very active cats in that sense"

"yeah sort of behaviour wise like a cat and a dog crossed as far as behaviour goes. so you have to share with them when your here"

"I don't mind, your rabbits love me"

"They do, both my bunnies for some reason really like you and I don't know why?"

"I don't they just do"

"I think hopscotch likes you because you're a boy. and you were really the first boy she ever met so I think she kinda has that connection with you, but if that's the reason then jellybean should hate you"

"Ahh yes because of the manly ness"

"Because of you raging testosterone Thomas"

"Yes raging" he smirked

"It's not a raging rapid... it's like a tepid steam at best"

"Thanks!"

"You take six months to grow a moustache Thomas its tepid testosterone"

"I wanna argue but I don't have anything to argue that with"

"ummm, hopscotch doesn't like me as much as she likes you which baffled me, I think it because I'm a girl. so she kinda sees me as a rival in that way especially when she's in season. she hates me when she in season, but again she loves you"

"I think they're just more like humans when you think they are. that's why hopscotch doesn't like you because it's like a mother and teenage daughter, whereas they both like me because as far as they're concerned I'm like the only guy around"

"That's true. I am their mummy, and It does make sense they would assume your their daddy. which in all honesty you kinda are. you do look after them for me"

"I do, I love them" he smiled "Hopscotch come here darling" he called

"No hopscotch come here sweetie" she called

as a little black bunny jumped on the bed laying on Thomas and he sat petting her soft fluff

"God dam traitor, at least jellybean loves me" she smiled as the other grey bunny hopped on the bed too

[helloalycia]

hey, stranger | lena luthor

summary: after Lena leaves for National City shortly after her brother's attempt to kill Superman, you're left to learn to live without her. Until a year later, when you find yourself as CatCo's new junior photographer and discover Lena Luthor owns the company.

warning/s: none.

author's note: buckle in folks, this is a long one

masterlist | wattpad

One Year Ago...

"Look, I know that what happened was terrifying, and I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like, but Lena, you can't just leave."

The raven-haired woman avoided my eyes as she crossed her arms nervously.

I felt a pressure on my chest at the mere thought of her leaving Metropolis, and stepped forward to lace my fingers with hers.

"You're not your brother, and people will see that," I told her, my stomach doing somersaults when her glassy green eyes stared up at me. "They just need time."

She swallowed hard. "I don't want to wait for the rest of Metropolis to play catch-up. I can help better the world in National City, where there's a fresh start and a different Super there that hopefully won't judge me on the premise of my name."

I frowned when I heard her say that with such determination and ferocity, as if she'd given it much thought. It was too late, I knew that voice. It was the voice she used when she'd truly made up her mind and there was no convincing her otherwise.

"Y/N, I love you so much," she spoke again, grabbing my attention when she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and stepped closer to me, our bodies pressing together gently. Her eyes were bright and piercing as she continued, "I need you to know that you are one of the few good things I have left in my life, probably the only good thing." She chuckled dryly and rested a hand on my cheek. "I know that I'm not the easiest person to be with–"

"Lena, I've never thought that," I cut her off instantly, shaking my head. "Don't say that."

She smiled sadly, glancing down to the floor. "Look, I know that what I'm saying sounds insane. But I need this fresh start. I don't think I can stay here, having this constant reminder about what Lex almost did."

I knew where she was going with this, but she was beating around the bush. My heart was crumbling with each second passing, but at the same time, I felt a small sense of relief that Lena may finally have the chance to be truly happy elsewhere, without the immediate ties of her family.

"I'm not asking you to come with me," she finally said it, eyes meeting mine as a tear dropped down her face. "You have a life here. A job. Friends and family. You can't just pick up and move with me."

"I could try," I said, a little hopefully as I gave her a small smile.

She shook her head, her voice cracking. "I wouldn't let you."

I breathed out slowly, feeling a lump form in my throat. "When are you leaving?"

She sighed regretfully. "Tomorrow."

I raised my eyebrows with surprise. "Tomorrow? Lena, you can't be serious! I thought you meant a few weeks, maybe a month, but–"

"I know, I know, but if I stay longer, it'll only be harder, and I'm afraid that I may change my mind," she cut me off, holding my arms now. "It's better this way." She leaned down to find my eyes, certainty shining through. "Y/N, it's better this way."

I pursed my lips, my eyes watering as I realised how real this all was. She was really going to leave and I wasn't sure when I would next see her again. If I would see her again.

"We still have today," I said, a statement rather than a question.

She flashed me one of those rare beautiful smiles she had, only reserved for me. "We do."

I lessened the gap between us by leaning forward and going in for a kiss. I didn't spend long thinking about it, knowing I didn't have time to waste. I pressed my lips to hers in a passionate kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist and another on the nape of her neck.

Her floral perfume filled my nose as she kissed back, lips agape as she sucked on my lower lip. It was a salty kiss and it didn't take long before I realised we were both crying into it.

We pulled apart for air and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, feeling my warm tears soak my face.

"I'm really gonna miss you, Lena Luthor," I admitted, forcing a smile on my lips.

She sniffled adorably, wiping away my tears. "I'm really gonna miss you, too."

***

Present Day...

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, the new junior photographer," I introduced myself to my superior.

"Oh, shoot, you're here," the head of the photography department, Mr. Rodriguez, said startled.

I knitted my eyebrows together with confusion, a smile still politely on my lips. "Er, yeah... should I not be?"

His mind seemed like it was racing a million miles a second. "Yeah– no! I mean, no, you should be. You're in the right place. It's me who's all jumbled up..."

He headed to his computer at his desk as I awkwardly stood by the window, waiting for further instructions.

He tutted to himself. "Sorry about this. My assistant wrote you in my diary to be showing up tomorrow. I had a whole thing planned and everything."

"Oh, I'm, er..." I didn't know what to say though, as I remembered clearly getting a call asking to begin today.

"It's not your fault," Mr. Rodriguez said, waving a hand dismissively before looking up from his computer. "She's new, you see. Still getting used to the computer systems."

"I guess I can come back tomorrow," I offered awkwardly.

"No, no, that would be silly, you're already here now," he said quickly and apologetically. "I'm just thinking..." He crossed his arms with thought as he began to mumble to himself. "I've got several meetings today... Sasha is out sick... Nick could– no, no, he's out working on a story... so is Jamila and Markus..."

"You sure you don't want me to come back tomorrow?" I asked again, feeling like an inconvenience.

He looked up as if suddenly remembering I was stood there. "What? No, of course not." He glanced at the clock on his wall before widening his eyes with realisation. "Follow me for a second, will you, Y/N?"

I had no choice but to follow the older, slightly baffled photographer, as he led me outside of his office. His office was an all-glass box essentially, as every other office in this place was. We stood outside the door a moment and I took in the hustle and bustle of CatCo's newsroom for a second time that morning. I wondered what we were waiting for when Mr. Rodriguez seemed to have an idea.

"Kara! Kara, can I borrow you for a moment?" he called out, stepping forward to get some blonde woman's attention.

The blonde stopped walking and greeted Mr. Rodriguez with a chirpy smile. "Yes, sir?"

He seemed to breathe out with relief as he checked his watch. "Kara, I'm sorry to do this but my assistant messed up my schedule and it turns out that the lovely Y/N Y/L/N, my new junior photographer, has showed up and I am unprepared."

I awkwardly smiled at the blonde as she glanced my way.

"Do you think you can show her around the place? Just until lunch and then I can make time to do things properly."

This Kara woman seemed unsure as she laughed nervously. "I'm only a reporter, sir, I don't think I'd be the best person to–"

"Please, Danvers, I'll owe you one," Mr. Rodriguez said with a pleading smile.

"I really don't mind coming back tomorrow," I chimed in, looking to him. "This seems like a bad time. You're really busy and–"

"It's okay, I'll do it," Kara cut in, smiling at me.

"Yes, Danvers, you're a life-saver," Mr. Rodriguez exclaimed before looking to me. "I'm very sorry for the unprofessionalism, Y/N, especially on your first day, but I will make it up to you at lunch. Meet me in my office at half twelve?"

"Of course, sir," I said with a smile. "You should probably go, don't want to be late for your meeting."

His eyes widened with realisation. "Right! You're absolutely right! I'll see you ladies later."

I suppressed a laugh as he speed-walked away, leaving me alone with the reporter.

"Is he always that panicked?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kara chuckled. "Yes, he is. It's probably best you saw him like this. Now you know what you're getting yourself into."

I snickered. "So, your name is Kara?"

"Kara Danvers, yes," she introduced with a smile, putting out her hand.

I shook it and returned the smile. "Nice to meet you, Kara. I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

"The new junior photographer," she filled in jokingly.

"Right," I agreed with amusement.

"Well, I guess I'm your personal tour guide for the morning," she said, before motioning around us. "This is the kitchen."

I laughed at her lame joke. "Look, I can totally make myself busy until lunch if you have stuff to do. I didn't know Mr. Rodriguez would ask somebody to help me."

"Nah, it's fine, I don't mind," Kara said dismissively. "I used to be an assistant for Miss Grant, so I'm pretty familiar with this place, including where you'll be based."

"Wow, assistant for the boss, huh? That must have been... an experience."

Kara laughed as she led me around the newsroom. "I guess, yeah, but I learned a lot. Miss Grant taught me things I wouldn't have picked up elsewhere and..."

***

"That was James Olsen," I said with amazement. "I just met James Olsen."

Kara suppressed a smile. "He's kind of the guy in charge around here. If you weren't introduced to him, it would be strange."

"You know he took the first ever photo of Superman, right?" I said, glancing at Kara, still a little starstruck.

"Yes, I do know that," she said, crossing her arms and watching me with an amused smile.

"His photography is amazing," I rambled on. "He's got so many great shots of Superman, and now Supergirl as well. He manages to capture the most heroic moments in a single photograph without fail. It's amazing."

"I know that, too," Kara teased. "You said all of that and more just a moment ago when we were in there."

I felt my face grow warm with embarrassment. "Right, right, sorry..."

Kara laughed at my dismay, patting me on the shoulder. "It's alright. Besides, I think I've almost shown you everything. There's a few people I can introduce you to though, if you want. It might make settling in here a bit easier."

"Oh, wow, yeah, that sounds great," I said appreciatively. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said happily, before adding, "I think my friend, Nia, might be free to–"

"Kara!"

Kara looked over my shoulder and a smiled brightly at whoever was there. "Lena, hey!"

I widened my eyes, unsure if I'd misheard the name or not. I turned around and forgot how to breathe for a second, realising I hadn't. Because none other than Lena Luthor was stood before me, her smile fading as her eyes flickered to me from Kara, flashing with recognition.

I swallowed hard, before offering a small, friendly smile. "Hey, stranger."

She looked stunning, absolutely radiant. Just as I remembered, save for her hair which had grown a little longer. My heart was suddenly remembering what it was like to be with her, beating up an uncontrollable rhythm in my chest.

"Y/N," she finally breathed out, recovering from her momentary shock. "You're here."

"National City is a big place," I said, feeling like a teenager with a crush as her green eyes were trained on me. "I didn't think I'd see you."

"I own the company," she said quietly, still surprised.

I raised my eyebrows. "Wow. I didn't–" I cleared my throat, "–I didn't know that."

"Wait, you two know each other?" Kara asked, and I forgot she was standing there until she spoke up, looking between us with a puzzled expression.

I licked my lips and stayed quiet, not sure what to say. Thankfully, Lena spoke up for the both of us.

"Y/N is an old friend of mine," she said carefully, eyes never leaving mine. "Back from Metropolis."

Kara's mouth was agape with confusion, but she didn't speak. I could feel her looking between us both with much intrigue.

"What are you doing here?" Lena asked, cocking her head to the side, eyebrows furrowed.

I straightened up as I found my words. "I'm the new junior photographer. Today is my first day."

"Oh, well, congratulations." She seemed like she was still catching up with everything, as was I. "Have you met James Olsen? He was our lead photographer and art director before being promoted to CEO." She glanced behind me at his office before nodding that way. "I'll introduce you, come on–"

"Lena, it's fine, Kara already introduced me," I said, smiling appreciatively. "Thank you though."

Lena bit her lip and nodded, before looking down to her shoes uncomfortably.

"Anyway," Kara began, filling the silence, "is there anything you needed, Lena? I'm not on my lunch break yet, but–"

"There's no rush," Lena said, shaking her head. "I just came to check on things. I needed to speak with James about a few things." She glanced at me, adding, "Er, we're going out for lunch, if you'd like to join us? I mean, you don't have to, but if you'd like, you can..."

This whole situation was so out of the blue and neither of us could ignore the awkwardness between us right now.

"I've got plans with Mr. Rodriguez, but thank you anyway," I declined politely, forcing a small smile.

"Okay, yeah, of course." Lena nodded before smiling at us both. "I should get going."

"See you later," Kara said with a wave and a smile.

Lena returned her smile before looking to me, her eyes softening. "It's nice to see you again, Y/N."

"You, too, Lena."

I watched as she walked away, before releasing a breath when she was out of sight. It was just like we'd met for the first time all over again, myself feeling butterflies in my stomach and unable to get her piercing green eyes out of my head. And here I was thinking a year would make a difference.

"You okay?"

I blinked and looked up, realising Kara was staring at me with concern. I put on a smile and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry, yeah. I just– I didn't think I'd see her again. At least not today."

Kara seemed hesitant as she stayed quiet for a moment, before finally saying, "I'm guessing old friends means something else in Metropolis..."

My smile faded as I nodded. "Yeah..."

Kara led me away, the two of us walking down the hall.

"Are you and Lena, er–"

"No, no," Kara said, reassuringly. "We're just friends. Best friends, actually."

I felt embarrassed for even thinking I had a right to know. "Sorry, it wasn't my business."

"It's okay, don't worry about it." Kara flashed me a small smile. "She's not with anyone right now by the way."

I raised an eyebrow and Kara gave me a knowing look, as if she knew what I was thinking.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to Nia," she changed the subject, thankfully. "She's a reporter here."

I nodded and followed Kara, but I would be lying if I said Lena hadn't plagued my thoughts.

The last time I'd seen her was just over a year ago, when we'd said our goodbyes before she left. It was a hard goodbye, a hard breakup in general. I loved her a lot and knowing she was moving away to be someone better hurt because I couldn't stop her. I would never stop her. But I couldn't leave with her either.

We were friends long before we were a couple, so we made sure things wouldn't be weird when we broke up. Of course I still had feelings for her, but we agreed to try and remain friends.

It worked for a while. We would text and occasionally call, whilst she was settling into National City and turning L Corp around. But then the calls were fewer, and the texting lessened, and before I knew it, we'd lost touch. I wasn't sure if it was because maybe we both knew it would be easier and hurt less, to not have each other at all if not in the way we wanted, or if it was because we were getting busier, but it happened.

When I stopped freelancing as a photographer and decide to apply for a permanent position somewhere, the job from CatCo practically fell into my lap and I couldn't turn it down. I genuinely didn't believe I'd bump into Lena – this was a big city! But of course she owned the company. Just my luck.

***

I'd been in National City for a few weeks now and hadn't seen Lena since that first awkward encounter. I wasn't sure whether to be offended or not, since we were friends before being a couple so I at least thought we could pick up where we left off, but that was naïve of me.

I was enjoying my job at CatCo and already had a few things in the works with the help of Mr. Rodriguez. I'd also befriended Kara and a few of her other friends – Nia and James. It was still weird that I was 'friends' with James, since he was such a talented photographer and I couldn't imagine it, but it was great. They were a fun lot to be around at work, along with a few other photographers in my team.

My latest assignment was covering an L Corp gala, which wasn't my first choice, but I couldn't argue with it. Thankfully, the reporter I was partnered with was Kara, so I wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Apparently Kara had covered a lot of Luthor-related stories, so was the best person for the story.

So, that's where I found myself now, standing in the doorway of a massive ballroom, full of important-looking, rich business professionals. The gala was a charity ball, raising money for children's hospitals around National City, that Lena owned. I felt proud of her when I looked around and saw the impact she had made by moving here. She was certainly just as determined as I remembered her to be.

"This is very fancy," I commented aloud, feeling a tad bit underdressed in my dress pants and blouse.

"Wouldn't be a Luthor event if it wasn't," Kara joked, before nudging me in the arm. "Come on. Let's have a look around."

I followed Kara as we showed ourselves around, myself looking at the best vantage points for some nice shots, as well as subtly wondering if Lena was around.

Eventually, I left Kara to do her interviewing as I wandered about, taking photos of everyone. There was a lot going on, so it wasn't hard to find interesting subjects. I spotted Lena at one point, mingling with other guests. I almost forgot I was supposed to be taking photos when I saw her because she looked amazing.

She was wearing an elegant off-shoulder black gown and her long dark hair was sleek and straight, shining under the lights. I could make out the bright green of her eyes from the other side of the room and I had to remind myself that I was there to do a job before I began to drool.

I snapped some photos of her, maybe a few more than necessary, but she looked beautiful and I couldn't help it. I took more photos of everyone before deeming it enough and settling on a table on the 'quieter' part of the hall.

I was snacking on some of the hors d'oeuvres as I looked back through the photos I took when I heard Kara call my name.

I looked up mid-bite into a salmon puff when I saw Kara approaching me, Lena in tow. I straightened up and finished chewing my food before smiling at both women.

"Hey, Kara," I greeted, before meeting Lena's gaze. "Lena. This is a lovely event. You've done an amazing job."

Lena smiled bashfully. "If there's anything rich people love more than lavish events, it's lavish events that showcase their charitable donations."

I cracked a smile – her sense of humour hadn't changed.

"You get any good shots?" Kara asked, nodding to my camera.

I looked down at it. "Yeah, I was just looking through them."

"Can I...?" Lena smiled as she motioned to my camera.

I nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

She stood beside me, a little closer than I expected, or maybe it seemed that way because I was holding my breath. She accepted the camera from my hands and began to flick through the photos. She was smiling down at them all, nodding with approval.

"Still as talented as I remember," she muttered.

I didn't even realise she'd spoken because I was too busy taking in her profile. The sharpness of her jawline contrasted with her long dark hair pushed behind her ear was distracting, and I felt my mouth go dry when she looked up at me, dark eyes suddenly staring right at me.

"Huh?" I spluttered, unintelligibly.

She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Never mind, Y/N."

I felt my face grow warm. "Sorry, I'm just... is this strange? Me and you?"

Lena cleared her throat and suppressed a smile. "If it's strange, it's my fault, sorry. I should have greeted you properly a few weeks ago. I really wasn't expecting to see you again."

"Me either," I said, shaking my head. "No need to apologise. I think we both thought it was a little weird... but it is really good to see you again." I glanced around. "You've achieved a lot, Lena. And I have a feeling this isn't even the half of it."

It was Lena's turn to get embarrassed as she avoided my eyes, smiling to herself. "Thank you, Y/N."

It went quiet for a moment, a comfortable silence between us, until Lena looked up and lost her smile.

"I know that things ended a little... suddenly between us, but I never intended for us to stop speaking." She frowned a little. "I don't really have any excuse for why we stopped. But I am sorry it did."

"Hey, it takes two to tango," I joked to lighten the mood, making her glance up at me. "We both lost contact with each other. It happens. But I'm here now, and you're here, and well, maybe we could try and be friends again. If you want, that is."

A beautiful smile graced her lips as she nodded. "I'd like that."

My heart skipped a beat at how her eyes lit up. "We can get coffee and catch up, if you'd like. I'd love to hear about all you've done this last year."

"Coffee sounds great," Lena agreed. "And it's not just me who's been up to new stuff. I wanna hear all about how you ended up at CatCo."

I chuckled. "It's a date." I widened my eyes when I realised what I said. "That's not what I meant, sorry. It's just a plan and–"

Lena's laugh cut me off. "Y/N, it's fine, I know what you meant."

I nodded, a little flustered. I soon realised we'd been talking a while and Kara was nowhere to be found.

"She left a moment ago," Lena said, realising I was looking for her. "Between me and you, I think she got us together today for a reason."

"She cares about you," I pointed out. "She seems like a great friend."

Lena nodded, smiling nostalgically. "Yeah, she is. One of the first I made when moving here."

"Come on, we should probably chase her down and let her know we're good."

"Lead the way, Y/L/N."

***

Lena and I followed through with our plans, meeting up for coffee to have a big catch up. It was amazing hearing all she'd achieved in the past year. I wasn't surprised in the slightest however, as I knew that if anyone could do it, she could. It was also lovely to see her look a lot better, health-wise. When she left, she was still shaken up about what Lex did – it was reassuring to know she'd recovered, even slightly.

We hung out a few more times, mostly with Kara, Nia and James present, but it still felt good to see her at all.

Kara even invited me over to her place one evening, claiming she hosted a weekly game night and would love if I joined. That was where I met Kara's sister, Alex, and their friend, Brainy. The two worked for the government, but weren't as serious as they let on.

Nia and James were also present, along with James' sister, Kelly, who was also Alex's girlfriend. Lena was there, too, and admittedly, I looked forward to seeing the raven-haired woman yet another time.

"Charades?" Alex suggested, already grabbing the bowl of charade ideas.

Everyone agreed and naturally got into teams. They'd been playing a while, so it seemed that they had teams organised in advance. The Danvers sisters were one, the Olsen siblings were another, and Brainy and Nia (who had been flirting all night) were the last, leaving Lena and I to pair up.

"Is that okay with you guys?" Kara asked, realising we had been left to team up. The blonde had been hesitant in pushing us together too much when we hung out, clearly worried about pressuring us into anything. It was thoughtful and I'm sure Lena appreciated it as much as I did.

"Being partnered with the smartest person in the room?" I asked rhetorically. "Why would that be a problem?"

Kara seemed taken aback as everybody laughed. Lena nudged me in the side jokingly, just like old times, and Kara finally came to her senses and grinned.

"Game on, Y/N," she played along, before standing up. "Alex and I will go first."

The Danvers sisters performed alright, managing to get eight points in the 60-second round. Next up was Lena and I.

"You wanna go or should I?" I asked, glancing at her.

"You go, you've always been better at it than I have," she said, ushering me to stand up.

I chuckled and stood up, readying myself.

"And... go!" James said, starting the timer.

I grabbed the first slip of paper. Water bottle.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how one could act that out, but nonetheless, I locked eyes with Lena and began to make a drinking motion.

"Glass!"

I shook my head and repeated the action, emphasising it a little.

"Water! Glass of water?"

I repeated the action, motioning to the 'bottle' in my hand.

"Water bottle!"

"Yes!" I shouted back, before moving onto the next slip of paper.

Watching a romantic comedy.

"Ooh! Okay, okay, er..." I sat down on the floor, looking ahead at the TV as if I was watching it.

"Watching TV," Lena guessed.

I pretended to laugh one second and then cry another.

"Watching a comedy!"

I wiggled my hand to show she was almost there. I made a love heart with my hand and did the whole thing again, hoping it would make sense.

"Watching a rom com!"

"Yes! You got it!" I shouted with a grin, before moving to the next one.

Finding Nemo.

I began to make the whale noises similar to how Dory does in the film and Lena guessed it instantly.

She laughed as the others were watching eagerly, curious to if we would mess up or beat Alex and Kara.

Scuba diving.

I pretended to dive off the couch onto the carpet and she guess it immediately.

"Five more to go and thirty seconds left," Nia reminded us.

Hide and seek.

I covered my eyes and began counting backwards from ten.

"Hide and seek!"

Walmart.

I wasn't sure how to act that out, so I said, "Er, that, er, the shop opposite the McDonald's down the street!"

"Walmart!" Lena said with a laugh.

"Can she do that? Talk in the game?" Brainy asked as I moved onto the next slip.

"Technically she didn't say the answer, so yeah," Nia said with a shrug. "Three more left and twenty seconds, guys!"

Having a bright idea.

I pointed to one of the light bulbs above as and motioned to it on my head, making a 'ding' noise with my mouth.

"A bright idea?"

"Yes! Okay, er..."

A penny for your thought.

I dug out a penny from my pocket and held it up before pointing to my head.

"Penny for your thought!"

"Okay, how is she getting these?!" Alex complained, mildly confused.

Kelly laughed at her girlfriend as I moved onto the next one.

Coconut.

"Shoot, er..."

"Five seconds left!" Nia called out.

"That thing your car ran over on our second date!" I shouted, meeting Lena's eyes and hoping she'd understand.

"Three!"

"Oh! Er, it was..."

"Two!"

"Come on, Lena!"

"One!"

"A coconut!"

"Time's up!" Nia called it, and I looked to her to see how many points we got. She looked at her point system before sighing disappointedly. "Nine points."

"Yes!" Lena and I shouted with excitement, and she stood up to embrace me in a hug.

We were laughing as James tried to get our attention.

"You drove over a coconut on your second date?" he asked, probably for everyone, and all eyes were on Lena and I as we remembered it like it was yesterday.

"Look, I don't know how it got there, or where it came from," Lena began, a hint of amusement in her voice, "but we were driving back from this restaurant when I drove over a bump or something."

"We stopped to take a look and it turns out it was a coconut," I finished, shaking my head. "Weird time. But yeah."

Everybody seemed confused, but Lena and I exchanged amused knowing glances.

"Okay, well you two aren't going to be partners next week, since it's unfair how well you work together," Nia commented, before standing up. "Brainy, it's our turn."

Lena grabbed my hand and led me to the couch, the two of us sat side by side watching the others have their go. I didn't even realise we were still holding hands at first, then I felt the warmth from her skin touching mine and smiled to myself. Friends could hold hands, so it wasn't a big deal, but it felt right. I had missed this.

***

Some time passed and any hint of awkwardness between Lena and I had disappeared. We were friends, like we used to be before we got together, and it was nice. I tried to ignore any old feelings that were trying to resurface when I was with her, and I assumed it was working since I hadn't done anything stupid to ruin what we had.

It did feel good to spend all this time with her as well. I'd forgotten what it was like to have her in my life, to have someone with me who understood me. We had inside jokes, memories, time spent where we knew each other inside and out. It was almost a relief to have that, knowing we didn't have to start from scratch.

I guess it was always expected – we'd loved each other dearly. That couldn't be erased, not even after spending a year apart.

A few months into the midst of this friendship, I was at CatCo, in the darkroom processing photos from my camera when I heard a knock on the door.

"Y/N? You in there?"

I recognised the voice as Lena's and called back, "Yeah, you can come in, just be quick!"

The door opened and closed quite quickly, barely a sliver of light creeping into the room thankfully.

"Woah," Lena said, looking around.

"C'mon, you've been in a darkroom plenty of times," I teased with a half smile, glancing up at her.

"Not for a long time, actually," she retorted, playfully glaring at me.

I grinned at her as she joined my side, watching as I hung up some prints I'd just processed.

"So what's up?" I asked, glancing between her and what I was doing.

She was distracted by my hand movements, finally looking to me when I spoke. "Huh? Oh, right. I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with me. I was free, but now I think you're a little busy."

"No, lunch sounds great!" I said, smiling at her. Her eyes were dark in the red light, yet they made my stomach do somersaults nonetheless. "I just need to finish these last prints. You can stay if you want."

Lena nodded and watched as I moved some more prints from the stop bath to the water tray.

"Where are these?" she asked, looking at the photos hung up already.

"That rally downtown," I remembered. "A few days ago, I think."

"Oh, right."

I glanced at her, watching as she stared at everything with awe. I smiled, admiring how adorable she looked. She always used to do that whenever she'd join me, back when we were dating. No matter how many times I showed her, she still found it all fascinating.

"You want a go?" I asked, earning her attention.

Her head darted to me as she raised her eyebrows. I nodded to the prints that needed 'washing' and she nodded.

"Sure, what do I do?"

I handed her a pair of metal tongs. "Just pick that up," I pointed to the first tray, "and put it in here." I pointed to the second tray. "But first, hang that print up on the line above so it can dry."

She did as I said and I watched to make sure she didn't spill any of the chemicals on herself or her fingers.

"Okay, just a few more here," I said, pointing to the last few prints. "You think you can handle it?"

She rolled her eyes at my playfulness and I smiled as I watched her finish up. When she finished, she set the tongs down on a paper towel. I spotted a little bit of developer solution on the counter and spotted the rest of the paper towels on the side, next to Lena.

I rested a hand on her back as I leaned over her, grabbing the paper towel. I cleaned up the last spot and tossed the paper towel in the bin, about to speak, but I was surprised when I looked to Lena and saw her move forward quickly, pressing her lips to mine.

She pulled me close by the waist and kissed me hard, making my heart beat faster and faster in my chest. I relaxed into her embrace, resting a hand on the side of her face. She moved closer, my back hitting the counter behind me as she swiped my bottom lip with her tongue.

It was like we hadn't been apart when she pulled away for a second, before reattaching her lips to mine. I was still surprised and I knew I should have stopped us, but my heart was saying otherwise as I kissed back, missing the taste of her lips against mine.

She slipped her tongue between my lips and I let out an unsolicited moan, definitely knowing I should stop this now.

"Lena," I breathed out, managing to part our lips for a second, but she reattached them in an instant, and I almost gave in all over again when she began to suck on my lower lip, enticing me with her Luthor charm.

"Lena," I tried again, using every ounce of willpower to pull apart from her.

She finally listened and pulled apart, her eyes meeting mine apologetically, realising what she'd done. "I'm... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I assured her, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. "That was... unexpected."

"I actually wanted to do that for a while," she admitted, eyes flickering to the ground. "I tried not to, but I couldn't not do anything..."

I felt a little hopeful as I watched her. I couldn't help but blurt out, "I think I'm still in love with you."

This got her attention, as she looked up and searched my eyes. "You are?"

I nodded slowly, holding my breath for her response.

She pursed her lips, raising her hand to caress my cheek. "I think I'm still in love with you, too. I don't think I ever stopped."

I smiled as she looked between my eyes. I always felt a sense of calm when looking in hers, and I guessed some things didn't change.

"I really missed you when you left," I admitted. "I tried really hard to get over you, but I don't think I did. Not really."

"I missed you, too," she muttered. "I hated that I left you."

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said, shaking my head. "Sometimes, the timing is off. But I'm here now and I think that maybe the timing is in our favour again."

"Are you saying you want to try this again?" Lena asked, a hopeful smile on her lips.

"Well, it's either that or we make out every now and then without any real resolve," I joked, and she laughed, smacking me in the shoulder before pulling me close again.

"Nothing will get in the way of us this time," she said confidently. "I won't let it."

I wrapped an arm around her waist and smiled down at her. "You do tend to get your way."

She smiled and leaned into me, her head fitting into my shoulder. I held her close, closing my eyes and smelling that familiar floral scent of her perfume.

She pulled back and met my eyes, a sense of relief present in them.

"I'm really glad you're back," she said softly.

My heart was still pounding in my chest as I smiled at her. "Me too."

[haec-est-fides]

Filodox’s Trials of Apollo Reactions [Part I]

Welcome to part one of a reflective journey through Trials of Apollo ft. my original ebook annotations! I’ll be your host, 2020!filodox.

For this first episode, we’ll be going back to May 2016, the beginning of it all: The Hidden Oracle.

Annotations for this round are brought to you by 2016!filodox.

Is there anything we should know before we begin, 2016!me?

2016!filodox: I swore on the Styx never to read another Riordan book after he killed Octavian. And yet here we are.

... Alright then! Let’s get started.

But first, a more detailed overview on how this series will work: I will excerpt bits and pieces of the books based on what I highlighted / annotated on my first read. Beneath each quote, I will share what I wrote in the annotation. Below that, I will (occasionally) laugh at my past self, clarify the note, or say how my view has changed.

I encourage questions, comments, and concerns (of which there may be many), so go ahead and use that replies feature if you feel so inclined! However, these are just my opinions and (occasionally) emotional reactions, so no hate pls. <3 (Or, if you do send hate, pls make it funny.)

Now, diving right in with Riordan’s dedication!

To The Muse Calliope. This is long overdue. Please don’t hurt me.

2016!filodox: Hurt him. He didn’t even name the chapters.

As you can see, I had yet to experience Lester’s haiku and was already mad based on the table of contents alone. I went into this series very salty...

I inflicted a plague on the Greeks who besieged Troy.

2016!filodox: At least he did something right. Once.

I was just,,,extremely ready to die on Octavian’s hill. (Though I was a huge Troy / Aeneas stan before all this, just to be clear.)

Is anything sadder than the sound of a god hitting a pile of garbage bags?

2016!filodox: I actually find this particular god crashing into a dumpster quite amusing.

I also blamed Apollo for what happened to Octavian. I think that had a lot to do with how Apollo acted on Delos in Heroes of Olympus, basically disowning Octavian and whining about how some “creature” scammed him? That was bullshit. Apollo needed to own the fact that he blessed Octavian, but he just abandoned him and denied all the blame. TL;DR I had a grudge, okay?

My mind stewed in confusion, but one memory floated to the surface -- the voice of my father, Zeus: YOUR FAULT. YOUR PUNISHMENT.

2016!filodox: Wait, is this bc everyone blames Octavian and therefore Apollo? Bc lol but also no?

*cough* Octavian did nothing wrong 2k16 *cough*

Zeus will reconsider, I told myself. He’s just trying to scare me. Any moment, he will yank me back to Olympus and let me off with a warning.

“Yes...” My voice sounded hollow and desperate. “Yes, that’s it.”

2016!filodox: Apollo is a self centered frat boy, I forgot...but it is slightly...endearing? *narrows eyes*

Ah, how close I was to stanning Lester in the first chapter, when he was at his most “goddy”. You know, I actually made a rule for myself when I started reading Trials of Apollo that I would not under any circumstances stan Apollo. That was a naive goal, because it was never really a danger.

Regardless, Zeus had held me responsible for Octavian’s delusions of grandeur. Zeus seemed to consider egotism a trait the boy had inherited from me. Which is ridiculous. I am much too self-aware to be egotistical.

2016!filodox: I am going to Murder him.

*chef kiss* the hypocrisy ! the lack of self-awareness !

“I just...I assumed -- I hoped this would be taken care of by now.”

“You mean by demigods,” Percy said, “going on a big quest to reclaim the Oracle of Delphi?”

2016!filodox: That sounds like a decent quest, or you know, QUESTING FOR THE SIBYLLINE BOOKS

I’ve always said I can see the future but an inch to the left. Also, I don’t like Ella.

It warmed my heart that my children had the right priorities: their skills, their images, their views on YouTube. Say what you will about gods being absentee parents; our children inherit many of our finest personality traits.

2016!filodox: AND HE’S MAD ABOUT OCTAVIAN?!

I mean ?

Apollo, when Austin and Kayla show ambition: THEY GOT THAT FROM ME <3

Apollo, when Octavian (or Nero, or Caligula) shows ambition: srry i don’t know him ??

He had a weak jawline, an overlarge nose, and a beard that wrapped around his double chin like a helmet strap. His hair was curly and dark like mine, except not as fashionably tousled or luxuriant. His lips curled as if he smelled something unpleasant. Perhaps it was the burning seats of the bus.

2016!filodox: Nero ???

Not quite sure how to feel looking back at this moment. Call out post @ myself for instantly recognizing Nero, when afaik this scene was before we had any hints that Roman emperors were even a plot point? But here’s the thing: I don’t remember why I could recognize him so easily. I don’t remember where 2016!me obtained this ancient Rome knowledge. A mystery.

On another note entirely, did Nero really like,,,astral project into Apollo’s fever dream to address him directly? Because Rhea does. And sometimes Python does. But Nero? Can he do that?

The man laughed as flames licked at his purple sleeves. “You’re not sorry yet, but you will be. Find me the gates. Lead me to the Oracle. I’ll enjoy burning it down!”

2016!filodox: I too enjoy burning things down. # Nero confirmed

My only comment here is “oh you sweet summer child,,,”

Oh. Perhaps some of you are wondering how I felt seeing [Will] with a boyfriend rather than a girlfriend.

2016!filodox: No, actually. I wasn’t wondering. I was plotting how to kill you, them, and quite a few other people. Do you think I could trade you for Octavian?

Oh man, back at it again with the salt. XD

I could only remember my conversations with Octavian, the way he’d turned my head with his flattery and promises. That stupid boy...it was his fault I was here.

A voice whispered in the back of my mind. This time I thought it might be my conscience: Who was the stupid boy? It wasn’t Octavian.

2016!filodox: I can’t really...explain my emotions upon reading this. I’m still not quite okay, but this...it’s bittersweet in a way. I don’t know if this is a poor attempt at a proper closure, the author’s way of beating a dead horse, or just a way to make Apollo seem pitiable. Whatever it is... Octavian was important enough to remain in Apollo’s mortal memory. He somehow made promises to a god and had Apollo wrapped around his finger. And despite being so much like Apollo, the god blames him. Like everyone blames him. But Apollo also realizes, accepts on an infinitesimal scale, that “it wasn’t Octavian”. He wasn’t perfect, but neither is Apollo. Apollo is (at least) subconsciously admitting his own guilt in the whole affair.

...yeah. I will note that this bit isn’t meant to develop Octavian, but rather uses Octavian as a prop to support Apollo’s development? Which is why it still stings. Like thanks, I guess.

“Your judgement in the past has been...questionable. I wonder if you have chosen the right tools for this job. Have you learned from your past mistakes?”

2016!filodox: Nero has made plenty of mistakes to learn from

Love how I just assumed it was Nero back in chapter 10 and went with it, zero hesitation. Also love how I heard Python say Nero has made mistakes and went “oh absolutely”. In fact, here’s something funny in retrospect that will become more and more apparent: I did not like Nero in 2016. Or, at least, I thought I didn’t. There’s something really odd going on here that baffles me, looking back...

“A triumvirate is a ruling council of three,” I said. “At least, that’s what it meant in ancient Rome.”

“Which is interesting,” Rachel said, “because of this next shot.” She tapped her screen. The new photo zoomed in on the building’s penthouse terrace, where three shadowy figures stood talking together....

2016!filodox: Is it bad that I’m smirking? Because it’s getting interesting ~ *clear malicious intent*

Wow, edgy. Triumvirates are just a neat, Roman thing and I stanned.

“The last triumvirate I dealt with included Lepidus, Marc Antony, and my son, the original Octavian. A triumvirate is a very Roman concept...like patriotism, skullduggery, and assassination.”

2016!filodox: THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL EVERYONE. MODERN OCTAVIAN IS A VERY GOOD ANCIENT ROMAN. POLITICS, ESPECIALLY SHADY AF POLITICS AND POWERPLAYS, ARE QUINTESSENTIALLY ROMAN. Also, I’d like to note that it’s confirmed, in this universe’s canon, that Augustus was a son of Apollo.

Ohhhh, wait. I think I’d watched the HBO series Rome by 2016, which would at least partially explain my ancient Rome knowledge. (Amazing tv show btw!)

“He heard them talking in Latin.”

“Latin? Were they campers?”

Pete spread his hands. “I--I don’t think so. Paulie described them like they were adults. He said one of them was the leader. The other two addressed him as imperator.”

2016!filodox: !!!! (obligatory 💕)

I was such a simp for Latin in high school. And the Roman Empire. Still am, but hey.

“The Beast is planning some kind of attack on your camp. I don’t know what it is, but it’s going to be big.”

2016!filodox: Runs in the family I guess

The Octavian / Triumvirate parallels are everywhere... 👀

“The emperors made themselves gods. They had their own temples and altars. They encouraged the people to worship them.”

2016!filodox: # deify me

*smacking my past self with a stick* You stop that! Edgy child!

Anyway, a much better point here is like,,,the Imperial cult was huge in the ancient Roman world. Looking at Apollo’s explanation here, why did only the “worst” three emperors get to be immortal? Did famously “good” emperors like Augustus and Marcus Aurelius have the option of becoming minor gods, but they chose Elysium or something? Are there slightly less infamous emperors just hanging around anywhere as minor gods? A lot of Roman emperors live on in human memory is all I’m saying.

“Wait!” Will said as I reached the door. “Who is the Beast? Which emperor are we dealing with?”

“The worst of my descendants.” My fingers dug into the doorframe. “The Christians called him the Beast because he burned them alive. Our enemy is Emperor Nero.”

2016!filodox: I honestly can’t believe it took this long to reveal this? Was anyone surprised?

Nero’s reveal is rather late in the book compared to Commodus, Caligula, and even Tarquin iirc? But it makes sense, being the first book of the series. Also love how 16-year-old me was like “this reveal is silly because everyone, like me, recognizes Nero on sight” and didn’t question that assumption at all.

“Germani.” Instinctively, I moved in front of Meg. The elite imperial bodyguards had been cold-blooded death reapers in ancient Rome. I doubted they’d gotten any sweeter over the centuries.

2016!filodox: BITCH. See? This is why I love Rome. They knew what they were doing.

Ngl, as someone of Germanic heritage, I felt really represented by the Germani, which is hilarious on so many levels.

He tried to compensate for his ugliness with an expensive Italian suit of purple wool, his gray shirt open to display gold chains. His shoes were hand-tooled leather, not the sort of thing to wear while stomping around in an ant pile. Then again, Nero had always had expensive, impractical tastes.

2016!filodox: I don’t exactly like Nero, and actually think he was quite the shitty emperor, but I guess I mildly respect and “like” him on principle (in this book at least).

OH YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD. I was so convinced that I didn’t actually like Nero, despite all of the lowkey evidence to the contrary? Who hurt you, past me? (Lmao, it was Tacitus, Suetonius, and Cassius Dio.) My working theory is that I was too much of an Emperor Augustus stan at the time to admit liking Nero. It’s hysterical. Look at me equivocating like a champ.

I’d been so proud of my son, the original Octavian, later Caesar Augustus. After his death, his descendants became increasingly arrogant and unstable (which I blamed on their mortal DNA; they certainly didn’t get those qualities from me).

2016!filodox: I’m glad Apollo and I can agree on something. Augustus was amazing and those who came after him...significantly less so.

See! The propaganda really got to me, what can I say?

Nero clasped his hands as if in prayer. “Oh, my. It seems we’ve had a slight miscommunication. You see, Apollo, Meg brought you here, just as I asked her to. Well done, my sweet.”

2016!filodox: This was obvious but I still find it...gods, the only word I can think of is “delicious”

. . .

“The Beast killed my father. This is Nero. He’s -- he’s my stepfather.”

I could not fully grasp this before Nero spread his arms.

“That’s right, my darling,” he said. “And you’ve done a wonderful job. Come to Papa.”

2016!filodox: Okay, but we should have known this since it became apparent her weapons were Roman. Also, oof. Also also, WHY did Riordan feel the need to add that last line? Why?

ASDFGHJKL: I CAN’T

“After the fire, we’ll rebuild,” he said. “It will be glorious!”

2016!filodox: The amount of times I have used this very logic is worrying.

For (some) context, Firelord Ozai is my favorite character from AtLA. <3

The scene might have been funny except that the Germani were now back on their feet, five demigods and a geyser spirit were still tied to highly flammable posts, and Nero still had a box of matches.

2016!filodox: Oh, I find this plenty amusing!

The emperor stared at his empty hand. “Meg...?” His voice was as cold as an icicle.

2016!filodox: The various ways his tone / voice have been described throughout this conversation are just 💕

*looks at camera like I’m on The Office*

Seriously, though. Nero’s voice is like the central descriptive element of his character because he’s so manipulative. It’s really cool and a great use of detail.

[Meg] turned to Nero. “You told me never to lower myself to my enemies’ level.”

“No, indeed.” Nero’s tone had frayed like a weathered rope. “We are better. We are stronger. We will build a glorious new world. But these nonsense-spewing trees stand in our way, Meg. Like any invasive weeds, they must be burned. And the only way to do that is with a true conflagration -- flames stoked by blood.”

2016!filodox: Real 👏🏻 Gods 👏🏻 Require 👏🏻 Blood👏🏻

I was way too enthusiastic about this whole situation, wasn’t I?

Nero grinned. “Good-bye, Apollo. Only eleven more Olympians to go.”

2016!filodox: Wait, shit, WHAT

Having read Tower of Nero, this probably had something to do with Python interfering with the Fates, huh? But does that mean it’s more Python’s plan or Nero’s? If this was Nero’s plan (with his 12 kids literally replacing the Olympians) that’s,,,really fucking bold.

Then I heard the screaming from Camp Half-Blood.

2016!filodox: Music to my ears ~

I’m presenting every edgy detail of my annotations so I have a proper case file when I inevitably have to face the question “On a scale of one to ten, how relatable is Emperor Nero and why should you have realized it’s a ten sooner?”

In a flash of silver light, the camp’s magical barriers collapsed. The Colossus lurched forward and brought his foot down on the dining pavilion, smashing it to rubble like so many children’s blocks.

2016!filodox: Payback! Dear gods, I can’t stop smiling! I’m just like “YES!” I know this will all probably get fixed or whatever but I’M HAVING A MOMENT.

I’ve learned to appreciate the small wins. <3

Percy grabbed one of the crown’s sunray spikes. He sliced it off at the base, then jabbed it into the Colossus’ forehead.

2016!filodox: As much as Nero is FAR from my favorite, I really don’t like defacing ancient (or replicas of ancient) statues and art...

This is where I just start laughing at myself tbh. I was so insistent on not liking Nero. Like, I sound like I’m in denial. Peak equivocation. What happened to that heart emoji a few chapters back? Why did I suddenly make it about *checks notes* ancient art? Updated translation: nooo don’t ruin the Colossus Neronis it’s so sexy aha

Just as the [arrow] reached its apex and was about to fall back to earth, a gust of wind caught it...perhaps Zephyros looking kindly on my pitiful attempt. The arrow sailed into the Colossus’ ear canal and rattled in his head with a clink, clink, clink like a pachinko machine.

2016!filodox: HOW MANY EX MACHINAS IS THIS ?! The dryads, the arrow, Percy, the enchantment, and THIS ?

One of my criticisms of Trials of Apollo in general is just that the stakes are so much higher and Riordan usually solves that problem by having his heroes win on long odds. The chances of them succeeding at like,,,anything they attempt are astronomical, but of course they manage. It’s not surprising but it does get a little tiring.

“Yo, Nico,” Leo called, “please tell me that’s it for the physical abuse.”

“For now.” Nico smiled. “We’re still trying to get in touch with the West Coast. You’ll have a few dozen people out there who will definitely want to hit you.”

2016!filodox: Oh I’d love to hit him. With the flaming, Imperial gold payload of an onager. Preferably WITHOUT the Pontifex Maximus attached to it -- unless of course you mean the false pontifex, Jason Grace.

Leo was the salt in the wound for this one, ngl. He rekindled my undying ire over Octavian’s death. As I said at the beginning of this, I was extremely ready to die on Octavian’s hill after Heroes of Olympus. That sentiment sticks around for a while...

And we can call that a wrap!

Though it may seem like it, my annotations are not, in fact, a compilation of Nero’s greatest hits. There are a lot of scenes of his that I love (naturally) but I didn’t have anything to say about them when I first read the series. Maybe I’ll share those another time.

In any case, I hope you got something out of this ridiculously long post! Until next time! <3