#but he was saying all this stuff about how isolated and lonely he felt and how it was easier

[whentherewerebicycles]

just met with a new student and he was the most Boy student i have ever worked with. obviously just fully immersed in the youtube and podcast manosphere but like... a kind of gentle version of it? just like, earnestly telling me about how if you just get your mind right money will flow to you regardless of what you do and talking about how you can't be a taker you have to also be a giver and a provider who is attuned to the people around you. god i have SO many thoughts. truly just a fascinating glimpse into A Boy's Search for the Meaning of Masculinity but in a way that i really empathized with?? i also think his girlfriend made him read brene brown because he went on a long tangent about the value of vulnerability and believing you are Enough as you are and being authentic to yourself instead of approaching others from a place of fear. it was all like jumbled new age + manosphere + therapyspeak mush but so earnestly expressed. idk man i think we gotta be gentler with college-age boys i think they have so much toxic sludge to wade through while also doing the very human teenage/early 20s thing of trying to figure out who they are slash what kind of person they want to be in the world.

[shannonsketches]

something I think about a lot -- especially whenever the bit comes up about Bulma hooking up with Vegeta because he seemed lonely -- is how underrated and under-discussed Bulma's loneliness is too. She's not isolated in the same way Vegeta is, but throughout the series she presents herself as an extrovert, while struggling to make friends, displaying a deep frustration toward her relationship with her parents, and then the late-add lore that her big sister just up and left her whole life behind when Bulma was still a little girl, and kind of left Bulma to deal with their parents and their company and all the hard parts of growing up by herself.

The other thing is that Bulma's intellect is largely unmatched, especially in anyone her age. Even including her sister, she doesn't have anyone she can talk to about the things she's passionate about. She can't communicate all the stuff that goes on in her head, because nobody who cares would get it and nobody who gets it would care. Vegeta, due to being a highborn alien raised in a cutting-edge advanced society, is very likely the first person in her age bracket that knows and is actually interested enough in science to talk about it with her, and can follow probable logic well enough to not have his eyes glaze over when she explains something out of his depth. And, it's implied that it was not common in any of his demographics either -- Vegeta's intelligence was something Frieza had to remind even his highest-ranking men to remain on alert about.

All this to say, I think it gets read a lot that Bulma felt sorry for Vegeta and just wanted to fix him, but I don't think that's giving her enough credit as a person with her own life and experience. Rather, I think it's a really cool and interesting part of their dynamic that loneliness and isolation as a direct consequence of being Born Special(tm) is something Bulma can fully understand and empathize with.

[atlabeth]

weight of the world

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy returns to camp after a successful quest. luke battles his guilt.

a/n: a lot of you guys seemed to like the percy pov and the pure angst of luke doing all this stuff to his first love's brother percy jackson instead of just percy jackson and first and foremost i would like to say you're all crazy but i also agree. so here you go. title from the jon bellion song

wc: 5.6k

warning(s): reader is dead (i feel like i have to tag this every time lmao). angst made angstier with fluffy flashbacks. tlt betrayal scene (pit scorpion edition). everyone is so sad

When Percy returned to camp with Annabeth and Grover, they were hailed as heroes. 

It might not have felt like it on the road, isolated with just the three of them, but they’d prevented a third World War. They certainly stopped camp from getting destroyed, if what Luke told them was true about the cabins taking sides. 

Burning their burial shrouds felt even better, especially with the Ares cabin’s expert craftsmanship. Apparently it was a tradition because demigods died so frequently on quests—Percy took pride in breaking that unsettling standard. 

It turned out all he needed to come into his own was to go on a quest everyone thought would kill him and not die. 

He excelled during his sword fighting lessons—going against a god would do that for you—he’d gotten much better at using his powers—going against a god would also do that for you—and his team always dominated on the lake during races, though that might’ve just been him cheating. 

He’d even started getting used to the Poseidon cabin in all its emptiness. It still felt too lonely, but he was working on it. The first thing he did when he got back to the cabin was pin your photo on the wall—Cabin Three belonged to you as much as it did to him.

And of course, everyone wanted to hear about how Percy saved the world. He’d told the story of his quest about a hundred times since he got back, sometimes with Annabeth piping in to set the record straight, sometimes with Grover dramatically setting the scene, always with a million different questions in between about how everything went down. 

Tonight was no different in the amphitheater—a group of Athena kids wanted to hear about his fight against Ares again—but he managed to get out of giving them the excruciating play-by-play courtesy of campfire songs. Percy didn’t really mind, though—any night with a large, golden fire was a good night in his books. 

Which was kind of how he ended up giving Luke the play-by-play of his quest. Maybe it was bragging, but he hadn’t seen who he considered his first friend at camp in a while. And yeah, sue him, but he wanted to impress Luke. He was cool and nice and good at everything, and Percy wanted to prove he’d made him proud. 

“—And I thought I didn’t stand a chance, but she taunted me and told me to jump into the water if I was really Poseidon’s kid. So I did, and it worked, and somehow I lived.” Percy shook his head with a slight laugh. “It ended up all over the news. I was a nationally wanted criminal for a couple days. We also blew a bus up, and rode with a zebra and a lion to Vegas, and went to the Underworld— gods, we did so much. It was crazy, honestly.” 

Luke chuckled. “I’m sure.” 

Percy glanced over at him, his brows creasing when he saw his distant gaze. He didn’t think Luke heard a single word. “You good, man?” 

He blinked and focused back on Percy, and though he smiled it was strained. “Yeah. Sorry—spaced out for a second. You were talking about your quest?” 

Percy nodded slowly. “Yeah. The whole criminal thing.” 

His smile turned a little more genuine. “You made front page news, too. I think you became the idol of a lotta kids here.”

“Oh, god,” he said with a frown. “You guys get news here?” 

“Couple New York papers,” he nodded. “You’re camp-famous.” 

Percy huffed a laugh and shook his head. “It feels crazy. I just got here a month ago, and everything’s already changed so much.” He looked over at Luke. “What did you do after you got home from your quest?” 

“...It takes some getting used to,” he admitted with a shrug. “I mean, getting to camp after so many years on the road was rough—coming back to camp after getting this—” he tapped his scar— “didn’t help.” 

“How did you get that?” he asked. 

“You’re always trying to get the saddest stories out of me,” Luke said wryly. “You know you can read books, right?” 

“I can’t, actually,” Percy said. "Not well."

Luke laughed and shook his head, his gaze falling back to the fire. Percy took it as him moving on. 

“I— I know I’m kind of proving your point, but… I wanted to ask you if I could have a couple more pictures” Percy cleared his throat, brushing a few dark strands of hair out of his face. “Of my sister, I mean. Obviously, you have way more of a right to them than I do, but— but Cabin Three’s a little bare. I thought adding a couple current things to the old stuff she put up would be nice.” 

His throat bobbed, and it took him a second, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah— sure.”

“Tomorrow after breakfast?” he asked. “I’ve got some free time before I have to go down to the forge.”

Luke nodded again. “Sure. You still have that picture I gave you?”

“Of course,” he said. “I already put it up on the wall. Do you want it back?”

His smile was bittersweet as he shook his head. “Nah. Like I said, you deserve to have a piece of her with you. And I’m sure she’d say the same.”

“I asked my dad about her, y’know,” Percy said. Luke’s eyes widened a bit as he looked back at him. “I went to Olympus on my own to return Zeus’s bolt, and the two of them were there. My dad and I got some alone time, and…” he shrugged. “I already annoyed two gods that day. Figured a third wouldn’t be that crazy.”

“What did he say?” 

“That it was one of his greatest regrets,” Percy said. “And he’d never forgive himself for letting her die, and for what it did to her mom.” He glanced at Luke. “And to you.”

Luke’s chest stilled, his gaze going out of focus for a moment as a muscle worked in his jaw. He hid it well, but Percy knew. He’d spent enough time at home with his mom and step-dad, overheard enough one-sided arguments. 

“You’re braver than me,” he finally said, and he stood up. “I’m gonna turn in—it’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry, Luke,” he said. “And Poseidon is too, for whatever it’s worth.” 

Luke didn’t look back at him as he started towards the path. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Percy.” 

-

“Are you sure you’re allowed to put lights up?” Luke asked. 

“Okay, Chiron,” you said cloyingly. “I didn’t know you were such a stickler for the rules.” 

“I’m just worried about fire safety!” he exclaimed. “The Hephaestus kids nearly burn down their cabin at least five times a week.” 

“They’re working with actual fire. These are just Christmas lights.” You glanced down at him and he handed you the next strand. “Besides, this is the safest cabin for possible fire hazards. And they look pretty—that’s all that matters.” 

Luke chuckled as you hung them up, and he took a step back as you jumped off the chair and moved it to the other side of the room. You usually hung fairy lights, but with the holidays just around the corner, you wanted to make the place more festive. You asked Luke if he wanted to hang out with you while you decorated, and he obviously accepted. He took all the time he could get with you. 

“It’s so quiet in here,” Luke said as you got back up, taking the next strand with you. “I’m not used to an empty cabin.” 

“That’s what happens when you’re not supposed to be alive,” you mused. 

“You of all people can’t say that.” He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Do you ever get lonely in here?” 

“‘Course not,” you said. “I’ve always got you following me around.” 

“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Your company’s the best.” 

You grinned and looked back down at him, and Luke gave you the next string of lights. “Or maybe you’re just a little crazy. You’ve gotta be to spend three years on the road with me.” 

“Being around you is what’s kept me sane,” he corrected. “Especially in the Hermes cabin of chaos.” 

You got up on your toes and lifted a leg up so you could lean to reach the last hook. “Oh, come on. Your siblings are so fun to be around!” 

“Maybe in small doses,” he said wryly. “And be careful, gods—” 

You looked down at him, your grin only growing. “Are you saying you’re worried about me?” 

“Always,” he said, still watching you, “but the last thing you need is to break your leg.” 

“It’s a five foot fall, Luke,” you said, amused as you got back on even footing. You hopped back down and tilted your head. “I’ve survived much higher falls.” 

Luke frowned. “You don’t get to joke about that.” 

“I thought you were dead too,” you defended. “That means it’s fair game.” 

His chest twisted. He’d played that day over in his head thousands of times since he first lost you, wondering if he could have done something different or if he should have searched more—he stayed in those woods for a week and a half searching for you before another monster attack forced him out of the area. It was the whole reason he came up with a designated meeting area with Thalia and Annabeth if they got separated—he never wanted to lose someone again the way he lost you. 

He shook his head with a sigh. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it, y’know? 

“Thank my dad,” you said. “I would have died if I didn’t fall into water. And he’s the reason I got to camp.” 

He’s also the reason you ended up on the streets in the first place, Luke wanted to say, but he held his tongue. You’d never shared his disdain for the gods, and he didn’t want to spoil your mood with his bitterness. 

So he doesn’t. He tilted his head and focused back on you. “Do I ever tell you how thankful I am that you're still alive?”

You smiled as you pushed the chair in front of your desk. “I could always stand to hear it more.” 

“Well, I’m thankful that you’re alive,” Luke said. He could have stared at your smile forever. “Mourning you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” 

“With any luck, you won’t have to do it again,” you joked. “I get it, though. Sometimes it feels like a dream. I thought I was hallucinating when you came over that hill.”  

The best and the worst day of his life—he found you again and lost Thalia in the same five-minute span. It wasn’t fair—Luke had told Thalia so many stories about you, and she was the one that brought him back from the edge your supposed death sent him to. On his worst days, Luke blamed himself for both. 

“Luke,” you said, jarring him out of his thoughts. “What do you think of the lights? Tacky, or festive, or both?” 

He blinked, then took a step back with you so you could get the full view. He nodded. “Festive, definitely. Where’d you even get them?” 

“The Big House attic,” you said. “It’s not just full of Oracles and spoils of war.” 

He chuckled. “And how did you convince Chiron to give you those?” 

You shrugged. “You know I’m persuasive.” 

Luke shook his head. “I’m jealous. No one else really gets to decorate their place like this.” 

“No siblings means full creative control,” you mused. “And Big Three dad means a big cabin all for me.” 

“And yet you still get a twin bed,” he said with a smile. “We’re all equal, really.” 

“Like you wouldn’t prefer a full.” You fluffed your pillow then set it back down. “You spend as much time in here as I do.” 

“Can you blame me?” Luke shrugged. “There’s no privacy there. We can get away with basically anything in here.” 

“And because you love me,” you said cloyingly as you rustled your hair with his hand. 

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I really do.” 

Your smile widened and you gestured at your box of decorations. “Wanna prove it, loverboy? Help me get the rest of this up before sword lessons.”

“Y’know, I’m leading them today,” Luke said, picking up a stack of snowflake cutouts. He was pretty sure you just took all the rejects after you were in charge of the crafts for a week. “Technically, that means we’ve got as long as we want.” 

“Oh, Luke Castellan,” you said airily, pressing a hand to your chest. “You know the way to my heart.” 

-

“Oh,” Percy said. “Wow.” 

“Yeah. And this is only one of them.” Luke set a cardboard box full of things on an empty bed and sighed. “She made this place her own while she was here.”

Percy took out a stack of baseball cards on top—Red Sox, of course, the only bad thing about you—and shuffled through them. “Everything’s a little dusty.” 

“No one really wanted to come in here after she died,” Luke said. He had a tangled mess of Christmas lights in his hands. “All this stuff stayed up for a year or two before I took it all down.” He huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’re probably the only one apart from me to be in here since she left.” 

Percy set the cards down. “Do you mind if I put some of it back up?” 

Luke glanced at him. “Why do you always ask me? This is your place.” 

“It’s not just my place,” he said. “I… I want to make sure I’m honoring her well. And I don’t wanna make it harder for you. Especially if you took it down for a reason.” 

Luke was silent for a moment as he stared at the lights. He brushed off some dust with his thumb. 

Percy felt bad for pushing the matter every time he was around Luke, but there was a tug inside of him—an innate need to know more about her, a desperation to honor her life despite never meeting her. 

“I appreciate it,” he finally said. “But go for it, man. You don’t have to get my permission.” 

Percy nodded, and he took a poster out, wedged in the side of the box. A Blondie poster, based off the huge block letters above a blonde singer stylized in pop art. It had a torn corner, and bits of tape had been folded over some parts of the edges. 

Luke chuckled. “She was a huge Blondie fan. She brought her Walkman when she ran away—I lost count of how many times we listened to Parallel Lines. Definitely put that one back up.” 

Percy nodded and set it on his bed. He looked at the lights in Luke’s hand. “Why’d she have those?” 

“She loved to light the cabin up,” he explained. “Said it made it feel more homey, and she liked to change it with the seasons. And when she enlisted the Aphrodite kids, it was like a— a HomeGoods warzone.” Luke shook his head with the most genuine smile he’d seen all day. “She really was something special.”  

Again, Percy’s heart clenched. It wasn’t fair he only got to learn about you through stories, only through the past tense. If he could get his mom back, why the hell couldn’t he get you back? Why couldn’t his dad have stepped in? 

What good was regret when you have all the power in the world to stop it? What good was being a god if you couldn’t save your family when it mattered most? 

“Y’know, I decorated this place a million times with her,” he said, and Percy was thankful for the interruption with his thoughts. “She wanted it to be a welcoming cabin, open to the whole camp if they ever got homesick.” 

“So the opposite of what it used to be,” Percy said wryly. 

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “You two are the first Poseidon kids in a long time because of the oath—it was just here for respect. She didn’t just make it into her home, she made it into a home for anyone that needed some extra warmth.” 

Percy looked around, trying to imagine you and a younger, unscarred Luke putting all this stuff on the walls, him helping you hang Christmas lights. You sitting on a bed, maybe what he’d chosen as his bed, talking a younger camper through their fears or their homesickness. You forcing the innate coldness of Cabin Three out and replacing it with warmth of your own. 

“Did you bring any pictures?” he asked. 

Luke nodded again and took a few out of his pockets, offering them to Percy. He took the one sticking out the most and smiled a bit. 

“Very Poseidon of her,” he commented. 

“She loved the beach,” Luke said, smiling wistfully. “No matter what state we were in, she would always try to find one. We could’ve walked twenty miles that day, and the moment she stepped into the water she would be good as new. I should’ve known who her dad was a lot sooner.”

Percy’s hand lingered on the picture he’d just put up. You stood on a sandy shore with your arms spread and head tilted back, and you looked wholly in your element. 

He wondered what you would think of Montauk. 

“This was one of those times?” he asked. 

Luke nodded. “North Carolina. A year and a half in, I think. We missed the East Coast after being in the Midwest for so long, and naturally, she found a beach immediately.” His eyes softened. “She was always so happy around the water, even after she knew what it meant.”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Finding out the thing you’ve always loved is the domain of the father who abandoned you is a little rough.” 

Luke always spoke with more nerve towards the gods than any other camper he knew. Funny, considering he was one of the first ones to tell him that names had power.

And he’d been acting weird since Percy got back from the quest. He thought maybe he was jealous, but Luke didn’t really seem like the jealous type—especially when he was already so cool. 

Then again, they did just come back from the brink of a possible world war. Percy should’ve been surprised more people weren’t acting weird. 

His attention drifted to the clock on the wall in the midst of his thoughts—Chiron’s last ditch effort in a camp full of time-blind kids—and his eyes widened. 

Percy muttered under his breath—Annabeth had taught him some Ancient Greek curse words on the road, and he was sure his mom would love them—and looked up at Luke. “Sorry, man. I’ve gotta go. Time really got away from me.” 

“I get it,” he nodded. “Have you gotten any better?” 

He glanced away bashfully. “Not really. But Beckendorf has the patience of a saint. Maybe someday I’ll make an actually functional sword.” 

Luke chuckled, though it was wistful. “Good luck. You mind if I stay here for a bit? I can put up some of her things.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “of course. Stay as long as you want.” 

Percy stopped once he got out of the door. Luke’s gaze was glued to a picture of you on the wall, his expression softer than he’d ever seen before at odds with something indistinguishable in his eyes. Again, Percy felt that all-encompassing dread, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

He left before it could consume him, but the haunted look in Luke’s eyes didn’t leave his head for the rest of the day. 

-

You took in a deep breath of salty air. The sea breeze blew over you as waves gently rolled into shore, and you smiled. You never felt more like yourself than when you were at the beach, and when you and Luke were constantly on the run fighting for your lives, sometimes you desperately needed to feel like yourself. 

You exhaled long and slow. It had been a particularly rough week—Luke did his best patching up your shoulder, but it would definitely scar—and this was just what you needed to wind down before you started moving again. 

You and your mom went to Cape Cod a lot when you were growing up, and though this wasn’t anywhere close to the same, it made for an alright stand-in.

The click of a polaroid camera interrupted your peace, and you opened your eyes and turned your head to see the culprit. 

“And you made fun of me for constantly taking pictures,” you said wryly. 

Luke smiled. “I made fun of you for taking up valuable space in your bag to bring your camera with you. I can’t not take pictures of you—especially when you’re so photogenic.” 

“Flatterer.” 

“Not if it’s true,” he remarked. He held out the camera to you. “Wanna get any pictures of the sea? You’ve got a better eye than me.” 

“Well, the sea’s a better subject than me,” you said. “Hold onto it.” 

He chuckled and took it back, drying out the newly printed picture. “How’re you feeling, by the way? I know it’s been a hard few days.”  

“Never better,” you said. “I needed a break from the road.”

“I get why you wanted to stop here,” he said. “It’s… calming.”

“Isn’t it?” You spread your arms out, breathing in deep once more. “I always feel better out here. More free.”

Another camera click, and your smile grew. “How do you feel?” 

“Better too, surprisingly. But that might just be because we’re walking instead of running.” You heard his footsteps and he came up next to you. You took the picture he offered and chuckled. You had your head back and your arms spread, soaking up every bit of sun and sea air you could. 

“I look like a stock photo.” 

“Does that mean I can get a job as a photographer?” he asked. “We could use some extra cash.” 

“Half of the pictures are either random parts of nature or me,” you said. “Who’d buy those?” 

“Me,” Luke said. “But I don’t think that would help with our money problems.” 

“All this flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you said. 

“It got me here,” he said. “I think it’s worked out pretty well.” 

You smiled as you looped arms with Luke, and after you gestured with your head, you started walking down the sand together. Whereas you always felt like you were blurting out the first thing that came to mind when you were around him, Luke always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. “Do you like it here?” 

Luke nodded. “It’s nice. I get why you like the water so much.” 

“At least one beach a week going forward now that we’re on the coast again, then,” you said. “Deal?” 

“Deal,” he agreed. 

“Good,” you said with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to go back to Virginia Beach. Last time, those giant ant things ruined it for us.” 

“Gods,” Luke grumbled, and you felt him shiver. “Don’t remind me of those things. I’ll never forget what their poison smelled like—and I’ll never forgive them for ruining my favorite shirt.” 

“Don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll get you a Red Sox one someday, and it’ll become your new favorite shirt.” 

Luke shook his head. “Your Boston baseball propaganda isn’t gonna work. I was raised as a Yankee.” 

“And I’m here to undo that awful brainwashing,” you said sagely. “Next time we go through Massachusetts, I’ll have to get you one. And we can stop by Cape Cod—I think being close to the water is good for my health.” 

“And I like seeing you happy,” he mused. “So I guess it works out for both of us.” 

You laughed. “We’ll have to stop at a music store before the day ends, too. I’ve nearly worn out my Cyndi Lauper tape, and I need to get some new ones. You should pick out an album you like too.h” 

“‘Course,” he said. “I think we’ve got some extra cash saved up. And if we have to—” 

“We shouldn’t steal anything yet,” you interrupted. “I don’t wanna get the cops on our backs so soon.” 

“You say that like I would get caught,” Luke remarked. “It’s literally in my genes. I’m making my father proud, and I’m helping you. I see no reason not to do it.” 

“Cool it,” you said. “We’re not becoming Bonnie and Clyde at the ripe old age of eleven.” 

“Fine.” You couldn’t see it, but you could sense his smile. “I’ll hold off. For now.” 

That got another laugh out of you as you leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt like you’d been on the run for a week straight—this was the best break you could have asked for. Maybe the sea was good for your health, you thought. Or maybe it was just Luke. 

Either worked for you. 

-

Percy could hardly breathe as he stared down at the scorpion, slowly inching its way up his pants leg. It wasn’t every day one of your friends betrayed and tried to kill you in the woods, but this seemed like the year he started checking things off his bucket list. 

“So this was your plan all along,” he said, attention split between the pit scorpion and the traitor. “Gain my trust, send me to Tartarus, start a war for Kronos.” 

The air got colder, and Luke tilted his head. “You should be careful with names.”

“And you should do the job yourself,” he challenged. “You want to kill me? Fight me like a man.” 

“I’m not Ares,” he said tartly. “You can’t bait me.” 

“So you’re a coward too?” Red hot anger rose within him, and the words left him before he could really think about them. “Did you also lie about my sister? Got a hobby of killing Poseidon kids?”

“Zeus got her killed, Percy!” Luke yelled. There was something wild in his eyes as he gestured with his sword. “I loved her more than anything—I held her as she died, and your dad let it happen. If it weren’t for the gods, both her and Thalia would be alive!” 

Maybe it was a good thing Percy didn’t know that until now. If he knew the king of gods was responsible for his sister’s death, he would’ve gotten himself burnt to a crisp on Olympus. 

“This isn’t what my sister would have wanted,” he said. “She—”

“Don’t you dare talk about her!” His voice continued to rise. “You don’t know her— you don’t know what she would have wanted!” 

“She couldn’t have wanted this!” he exclaimed. Percy’s breath caught momentarily as the scorpion inched closer and he forced his muscles to remain as still as possible as his gaze flicked back over to Luke. “This isn’t the way to fix things, Luke. I promise.” 

He shook his head, and he could have been a son of Ares the way fire seemed to blaze in his eyes. “She died because of Zeus, Percy. She was so close to sixteen, and that meant she was a threat to his power. He sent monsters to kill her, and your dad could have saved her, but he didn’t do a damn thing about it. And y’know,” Luke huffed a laugh, cold and mirthless, “the same thing’s gonna happen to you.” 

His blood had turned to ice. “He knows the pain of losing a daughter. Why would he—” 

“Because they don’t care, Percy!” he yelled, his sword cutting through the air again. “All they care about is keeping their power and their position. Your dad would rather send you on a death quest than stop stroking his ego for one measly second. Hades sent monsters to kill Thalia, and Zeus sent monsters to kill your sister—they can’t punish each other, so they punish us, and the cycle will never stop until we make it stop.”

“And you think that this is the way to do it?” he asked desperately. “By betraying camp and all your friends? We’re in the same position as you are!” 

“And anyone that’s smart will join our cause,” Luke said. “Do you really think I’m the only one that’s upset with the gods? I’ve been here for five years—I’ve seen kids leave for the school year and never come back. I’ve seen kids die without ever being claimed. My own dad turned me away at every opportunity. Our numbers are bigger than you know, Percy.” 

“You say I don’t know my sister,” Percy said, “but I know her enough to know she wouldn’t want this. Not in her name. Not against our father.” 

“You don’t know her at all,” Luke said, voice trembling. “If she knew that Zeus killed her for nothing but paranoia over a bullshit prophecy, she would be fighting against the gods right beside me.” 

“I lost her once,” he continued, shaky but full of anger, “and then I got her back, just to lose her all over again. The gods will never know that kind of pain—if they did, they wouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.” 

The scorpion was at his knee now. Percy was running out of time, and his mind was working in overdrive on how to get more, but he found himself rendered speechless. What could he say to a boy who’d lost everything? 

Luke was the lightning thief, he’d fully intended to kill Percy with those shoes, he meant to turn the gods against each other and raise Kronos, and now he was really trying to kill him.  

And yet, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy.

Percy thought he’d lost his mother, but now she was back. He’d met his father in person. He had a sister he’d never meet, that he would never be able to fully grieve. Luke loved her and grew up with her and grieved her twice.

Percy didn’t care—anyone who his sister loved couldn’t be a bad person. Not fully.  

“Please, Luke,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know how to solve it, but this isn’t the way. You think the gods are using you? Kronos is doing the exact same thing.” 

“You’re twelve, Percy, and you’re already the chosen one,” Luke said. “Hades and Ares would have both killed you if they got their way, and it was your job to stop a war between the gods because they couldn’t see beyond their egos. How is that fair to you?”  

“There was no other choice,” Percy insisted. “If either of them backed down, they would look weak. We’re the only ones that can do quests like this.” 

“Exactly,” he said. “They start petty fights that they can’t finish and it gets taken out on us. We have to be their heroes, and we have to praise them as we die.”

Percy remembered their bus exploding. Medusa, an innocent woman favored by Poseidon and punished by Athena for it. The endless souls in the Asphodel Fields, and even more waiting in line for their chance to be judged. Luke’s quest given to him by his father permanently scarring him, Thalia Grace sacrificing herself for her friends, his sister never getting the chance to see sixteen—Percy himself being used as a pawn to enact Kronos’s plan. 

“You don’t have to be a hero,” Luke continued, almost begging at this point. “You can join our cause—you can prove you’re so much more than the prophecies want you to be. Say the word and I’ll call it off.”

Percy wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of godly respect. He tricked Hades, insulted Zeus, and actually fought Ares. But his dad loved him—or loved his mom, at least. Annabeth’s determination and Grover’s steadfastness and all the friends he’d made at camp—all innocent children like himself. He couldn’t turn his back on that. 

Percy clenched his jaw. “I will never serve Kronos.”

Pain flashed in Luke’s dark eyes, but he shut it down just as soon. “So be it.”

He slashed his sword through the air and a ripple of darkness appeared, the void bleeding into the forest. 

“I really am sorry it came to this, Percy,” Luke said quietly. “But it’ll be quick. And that’s a bigger mercy than Zeus gave your sister.”

Luke disappeared into the darkness and it vanished soon after. Percy didn’t have time to think about his words—the scorpion had reached his thigh. Sixty seconds, Luke had said, then it was over. 

Percy had about five seconds to think of a plan before it lunged at him. He batted it away with one hand and uncapped his sword with the other, cutting the scorpion in half before it could reach the ground. 

He thought he did it. Then he looked at his hand, a red welt already sweltering on his palm, oozing sticky yellow liquid. 

Percy stumbled to the creek and submerged his hand, but nothing happened. He muttered a delusional prayer to his dad, then to his mother, then to you as he stumbled his way towards camp. Nymphs emerged from their trees, and he croaked a plea for help. 

As Percy collapsed, barely caught by nymphs on either side, he swore that he saw you. Did that mean he was dying? You had kind eyes like his mother, an aura of warmth unlike the feverish heat in his body, and it made the idea of it a lot less scary. 

He wondered if he’d meet you in Elysium. 

Percy reached a leaden arm out to you, mumbling your name despite his cottonmouth, and then his vision went black. 

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Episode 4: Cent'anni Breakdown

She goes through all these different levels of all these different personas: excellent daughter, overachiever, and this horrific feral state in Arkham. And it's not until the yellow dress that she finds the one that fits.

Kind of like sharks can't stop moving or they sink. It's that relentless pursuit of justice.

This changes her forever. She never comes back. Something so much bigger than her takes over in order to survive - Cristin Milioti

This was pointed out to me by my friend and, show of hands everyone, who else thinks it's unbelievably fucking sick that it is Sofia who gets to show up at the Falcone dinner table, wearing a thematically appropriate embodiment of her childhood trauma, and do a "None of you are safe" speech?

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

It probably felt odd to spend time with Sofia when we’re in a show called The Penguin. But I think it’s just as important so you can understand Oz psychologically. Even though I don’t view Oz as a hero or a villain, he is a greater villain in the show than anyone else. And for you to feel that way, I think you have to understand his primary antagonist more. And that’s Sofia.” - Lauren LeFranc

I gotta say I'm generally not enthusiastic about Penguin being depicted as overtly disgusting, like drooling and eating raw fish and all that Burton stuff (actually I do think the black bile is cool, but only so far as as that version goes), but for that opening scene, that was a spectacularly well-placed bit of grossness. Like this sheer craven animalistic ugliness of DeVito's Penguin descending for a second to show us how Sofia sees Oz, and even how right she is to do so at the moment because holy shit hahahahahaha

From what we can see of Sofia's pre-Arkham life, she was basically the Meadow Soprano of the family: The smart, overachieving golden child, whose social standing and eligitibility for leadership wouldn't even be up for debate if she was born a man like her loser brother (love AJ, relate uncomfortably to AJ, he's not at all morally comparable to Alberto, but he is very much a loser). Socially conscious and sticking up for victims but only if you don't poke too closely at her victim-generating family business, aware of some things but willfully blind to her own hypocrisy and insistent that daddy is still in average a good man who isn't as bad as people around her may say he is. I'd even say that the Sofia we see here is a more moral person than Meadow, although obviously being the daughter of Carmine Falcone is a much scarier, more isolating and horrific prospect than growing up the daughter of Tony Soprano (the ways in which the two Sopranos kids diverged and majorly prefigured American socio-political developments that kicked off after the show is a topic for another post).

(Also, I don't really want to bring up Sopranos comparisons because the shows are similar, they're really not, but I finished The Sopranos yesterday so they're gonna come up still)

I think Mark Strong does a really good job here filling in for John Turturro's role, even if he's not quite as good in it as Turturro. I think he plays the character differently in a way that works really well for this being a past version of Carmine, filtered through Sofia's vision. He is imposing and quiet and mighty, a lone titan of unquestionable power over the entire world, not even remotely someone to be defied or displeased. Turturro's Falcone was charismatic and affable and oozing with unspeakable yet casual cruelty, and I would have liked that here, but I like the idea that we're seeing a Carmine from before he was invincible, when he still needed Sofia to help him get Congressman Hill on the phone and still worried about the future of the family at Alberto's hands, a Carmine from when the Maronis were still around and he wasn't the sole ruling power in Gotham, who could still possibly lose even without vigilante intervention.

He is larger, more imposing, a stern and stoic father who had little use for pleasantries, and with no mirth to be had at the expense of the little people who think they can do anything against him that matters, even if he is getting there. I think the difference here adds a nice little arc to Carmine: there was a time where he needed to keep up appearences, there was a time where he raised his voice above a whisper to get things done, and there was a time where he wasn't the real mayor of Gotham. There was a time where he was a "proper" Don, when he acted like his comics counterpart, and none of that really became necessary over the following decade, when he grew more and more invincible and isolated and comfortable in this nightmare he made the city into.

They also confirm here that apparently the Iceberg Lounge/44 Below existed way back when Oz was just Sofia's driver, and it was already Carmine's prostitute slaughterhouse even then and Alberto knew about it. Possibly explains why Oz was handed the club in the first place, because the Falcones already called him Sofia's penguin and putting The Penguin in charge of the Iceberg Lounge would fit their idea of a laugh (and given how much Oz hates being called Penguin, he would hardly come up with the name himself)

Lmao, those dog comparisons I keep making really don't stop justifying themselves.

Credit again to Mike Marino and the prosthetics team for this younger Oz make-up, he strikes a very nice middleground between current Oz and the one we see as a kid.

Really like what we see of Sofia and Oz's dynamic here, again reinforcing that for all intents and purposes he was the sidekick in her HBO protagonist life. We see how Sofia likes his company and how she even kinda defends him from the family, but she really cannot bring herself to respect him very much and disdains him from the same very upper-class perspective the rest of the family does, she's just nicer about it. And in turn we see parts of where Oz's resentment to her comes from, and also the extent to which Oz was always lying in wait for an opportunity to get ahead regardless of her, his justified grievances as well as him being a conniving fuck. The really thin line this treads though, is that it establishes that neither of them were lying about how they meant something to each other, even if it doesn't help.

Sofia did have her life ruined partially because of Oz, she did endure horrific things while he got a promotion because he ratted her out to Carmine, and he very much did in part because he wanted to get ahead and saw an opportunity to do so. But also, Oz genuinely had no idea that this is what Carmine would do, and I think in large part this was also about keeping himself safe. It's not even that unbelievable that he was genuinely looking out for her, because holy shit you do not talk to the press about Carmine Falcone, daughter or not, and he tried warning her in the car before she rebuffed him and insulted him pretty deep for good measure. If Sofia talked to the press and would not stop talking (since he didn't know in the car that she rebuffed Gleeson) and shit started happening because of her snooping around, he would have absolutely gotten punished/murdered for it, it is not at all a stretch to assume that Carmine would have done something to Oz as punishment to Sofia.

Oz didn't plan any kind of misfortune, at no point did he mastermind her admission into Arkham (or even help keep her there with the letters, like the rest of the family), he just told Carmine something he shouldn't have, and neither of them expected anything too terrible was gonna come out of it. They both wildly underestimated what a complete scumbag Carmine is, but with Carmine (and the others) gone, there's nobody else to turn those grievances to.

Even if Oz could claim deniability for the Arkham thing, which he kinda can't but Sofia even tried to grant him anyway, he sure as shit can't for everything else he does in the opening minutes.

Oh hey it's Mr Mustache With The Broken Nose.

A thing that came to mind when I was watching the episode was the story of Rosemary Kennedy, JFK's sister whose father arranged for her to be institutionalized and lobotomized at age 23 as a reponse to "difficult" behavior. I'm not recounting it in more detail here because the rest of it is just too horrific, look it up yourself if you're curious. I remembered it because reading about Rosemary Kennedy ruined my fucking day and it still pumps up the breaks in my train of thought every now and then, so it came to mind watching this story about a young woman horrifically institutionalized and butchered for the sake of her wealthy family's image. Later I heard the podcast, and turns out that actually was exactly what Lauren LeFranc based Sofia's story on, which was nice. I'm glad it also fucks Lauren LeFranc up and that we both agree she should have gotten to wreak revenge on the entire family over it, thank you Penguin Show that continues to be made for me, this was nice.

Oh hey, Magpie. Just the name, yeah, but that was another nice surprise. I used to have a bit of a soft spot for Magpie, occasionally I thought there was something to get out of her and Penguin together, so a part of me likes that they put Magpie in The Penguin show even if just in name. Yes, she only exists to be annoying and die, but that's what she already tends to do anyway. And y'know, much as I may like her, she is still a John Byrne character, so she doesn't really deserve much more than that

Jesus Christ this episode gets uncomfortable.

I like that this establishes that Julian Rush kinda did make an effort to help her and kinda felt bad about it, but not nearly enough, and that he is very much a complicit contemptible creep who has it coming as much as any of the people who put Sofia in there.

Cannot state enough how much I appreciate that they didn't put any actual named Batman villains in the Arkham Asylum episode, guarantee a lot of creators would not resist the temptation. I mean okay I guess there is a Ventris already in Batman but, come on, you know who I mean. This did not need any references to like, Jeremiah Arkham or Jonathan Crane or Hugo Strange or any of that, and that's not a diss on any of those guys, it's just that unlike pretty much every other Batman story, this episode does not undercut it's point about the horrific institutional horrors dehumanizing and destroying Sofia by pinning it on a chief boogeyman supervillain that Batman is going to fight later. Dr. Ventris is not responsible for the systemic rot that got her there nor is he the sole orchestrator/perpetrator of the abuse it's inmates suffer, he simply answers to those, and thus perpetuates them, by doing his job in a mental institution.

I am still haunted by the inmate committing suicide with a fork. It is so fucked up that Sofia was tortured and goaded by the doctors into murdering another inmate, and when that failed, they tortured her again and again and again until she snapped. The whole point was to push Sofia beyond the breaking point to justify further incarceration. The doctors just standing there letting her kill Magpie.

I want Dr.Rush to die.

I have more thoughts on Arkham, but I'd call this the most horrific take on Arkham so far, because it is the most honest take on Arkham so far. Even at it's most run-down and monstrous, it is usually never at all into question that Arkham Asylum is necessary, because if it wasn't there, all the crazies would run rampant in Gotham. Over the years, it's monstrousness has always been tied directly and specifically to it's inmates, and whenever people have pointed out the shoddy conditions and inhospitable environment of Arkham as a factor for repeat offenders, it's pretty much always as a fandom joke outside of Batman stories proper, and if there is anything wrong with the way the Asylum works, it is always the fault of particularly evil villains attached. A Lock-Up, a Jeremiah Arkham, a Hugo Strange, etc. Arkham Asylum is in general a Batman concept that's raised a lot of discussions and calls for revision over the years, and a lot of the issues with it tie into larger issues around superhero depictions of the carceral system, that @artbyblastweave went into here.

Here, in large part because this is a realistic world and a Gotham without a rampaging supervillain contingent of repeat offenders who can magically break out constantly, it is never into question that the patients are the victims of this system, and if they are being turned into potential supervillains, it is because of Arkham inflicting this on them. This is an Arkham Asylum that remains a nightmarish, horrific force in this world, but not because it's Castle Dracula where all the crazy villains hang out, not even just because the rest of Gotham is hopelessly rotten and corrupt, but because it's a mental institution and depicted accordingly. It gets to dig into the real life horrors mental institutions inflict on it's patients without having to justify those measures as benign or necessary to keep crazy crimes from happening. Frankly, this take on Arkham Asylum has been long overdue.

In every form of Batman media, just about the worst thing that can happen at any given moment is Arkham Asylum falling and it's inmates escaping into the streets, that's generally what happens when Batman needs to deal with apocalyptic stakes (which is why of course it happens all the fucking time now). Here, that scenario would be regarded with cheer, because the worst thing that can happen in this universe is being sent to Arkham Asylum. It isn't just Batman's unofficial personal prison / punching gallery, if anything it massively raises the stakes on this Batman's next adventures, because now we know this is what's waiting for him if he gets caught and unmasked.

I like that Sofia and Oz are both trying to save/protect those they see as younger versions of themselves, while inflicting on them the kinds of tragedies that ultimately created them

Oz reached out to this poor disabled kid from the streets and is showing him the ropes, while also belittling him as a nobody and distorting his worldview and dragging him into life or death cornered scrapdog situations chipping away at his morals. Sofia saves her little niece who laughs at bad table manners and doesn't quite do what her family says, gently lulling her to sleep so she can kill her mom and her entire family.

Extremely important that Sofia Falcone makes her formal arrival as a villain by showing up dressed in a sexy yet fitting extension of her trauma / cultural reference (The Yellow Wallpaper / the walls in her mother's bedroom), before putting on a mask and enacting Gotham's first Mass Casualty Gas Attack, we love to see it.

I was frankly already calling Sofia one of my favorite Bat-villains even before this episode, I'm just glad everyone seems to be on the same page with me now. I'm seeing a lot of posts on Twitter and Instagram talking about how they're rooting for Sofia instead of Oz, that she deserves to win this war, and good, fucking amazing that they're doing this, again, this show is hitting home runs I could not have foreseen.

It is incredible what a character they've made out of Sofia, and the fact that we now see Oz as her antagonist as much as we see Sofia as his, and the fact that if Penguin wins, he will win this as a villain. He will steal a victory he does not deserve and rub it in your face and he will make the children of the world cry for it as any villain worth his name should be doing, and it frankly wouldn't be much of a fight if Sofia wasn't every bit the complicated, engaging protagonist he is. Lauren LeFranc claimed that she sees Sofia is the closest the show has to a hero even if she is not, and this is the episode that sold everyone on it.

Halfway through the show and it's only gotten better and better, can't wait for what's coming next.

[kaycode1999]

So this scene has been stuck in my brain for days

Besides the obvious, Orion is a kind hearted bot and you can tell it tugs at his heart strings for him to realize how lonely Bee has been and how badly he wants friends and that’s why he instantly welcomes Bee into their friendship group

However, I think Orion was more welcoming to Bee than you’d probably expect because he saw himself in Bee and found a kinship with him

Bee says “ I kept getting reassigned because I’m so good at what I do”. But he says it in a sarcastic tone that you can tell he doesn’t feel good about himself because of it.

And he also can’t help his curiosity despite how many times he’s been reassigned as he sneaks out to the waste management area. Given how skilled he was getting them on the train he’s definitely either snuck up there before or he got so used to sneaking around at his other jobs he’s just that savvy. Similarly, Bee seems to have a lot more knowledge than he should of things that happened before the Primes were killed, I.E. him talking about the Cybertronian high guard and knowing several of the bots by name, so I have to believe he also snuck into the archives before getting thrown down to sub level 50 and read into a good amount of stuff that was most likely off limits. Not to mention the events of the movie are based around both them doing things they’re not supposed to if you think about it; Orion entered he and D-16 into the Iacon 5000 and pissed Darkwing off thus getting the two of them thrown down into sub level 50, and Bee built little friends out of the trash he was supposed to be watching burn and/or repurposing and one of those friends ended up containing the message from Alpha Trion

Orion has a pension for not following protocol; I.E sneaking into the archives, competing in the Iacon 5000, his unwillingness to give up trying to find the matrix of leadership, etc. he even states that everyone knows he wasn’t the most focused miner. Which he feels ashamed of and blames himself for in the scene where Elita gives him a pep talk. As much as he cared about D-16 and their friendship I have a nagging suspicion he also felt alone and misunderstood, after all everyone around him even his best friend believes in Sentinel so much and almost all of them seem to be avid rule followers that don’t struggle the way he does or at least in the same way. D-16 didn’t even agree that looking through the data in the archives was worth it. They both also don’t have a problem standing up to bots who are bigger and in a more powerful position than them; Orion to Darkwing after he demoted Elita and Bee to Sentinel saying “ None of that is true” despite being handcuffed and at Sentinel’s mercy

So he sees this small, wide eyed, yappy bot who’s been left behind in isolation because he was deemed a screw up and didn’t maintain the status quo enough and he sees himself if he didn’t have D-16 and even Elita and the other friends he had with his fellow miners. He sees himself if he hadn’t had people to help him/cover for him or just flat out take the fall for him even when he tries to take the blame. Like when Elita got demoted because of Orion not following protocol *I don’t understand why she was because it’s not like she could have helped the mine collapsing and whether they helped Jazz or not probably wouldn’t have affected the bots in charge in any way but I digress*

He sees Bee as a less lucky version of himself, one that didn’t have the friends and support system he had, and I think he decided right then he would make sure from that point Bee would have someone looking out for him

[callie-the-creator]

and they were roommates

sfw. warnings: reader is gender-neutral, mild scott pilgrim vs. the world spoilers, mentions of alcohol/alcoholism, migraines, hangovers, angst, a sad wallace, etc.

author’s note: scott is my least favorite character, so expect some jabs to be thrown at him in here. anyway, sorry if this is trash or too cringeworthy. i tried my best, y’all ✌🏻

• you’ve known of wallace through a few stories your closest friend, stacey pilgrim. you mainly just listened to her rant about him stealing a few of her boyfriends.

— sadly though, wallace ended up breaking things off with other scott…and jimmy…and that other guy that he can’t remember the name of. the good thing is that scott finally moved out since he is planning on living with ramona. still…it did get a little lonely at times.

• because of how sad and isolated he felt, wallace began to drink. well, more than usual anyway. every night he could be seen lounging at his favorite bar with a generous of empty beer bottles/cans in front of him.

• it wasn’t until the fourth night of this repetitive cycle is when wallace met you: [name: y/n l/n. occupation: bartender. 24 years old and he’s never seen you until tonight which is surprising since wallace practically knows everybody.]

— right off the bat, you two hit it off right away. there was an underlying tension there but for the first few occurrences when you either bumped into wallace in the street or found him at the bar, it goes untouched & unmentioned.

• that was until wallace asked for you phone number when he is drunk. it was really sappy, but he was still nice about it. it makes you happy that wallace isn’t an angry drunk, like whatsoever. he’s just happy to be there and very sleepy. there were a few times where you had to give him over to his place because you didn’t trust him to get there on his own.

• you were always so kind to him, always treating him better than he probably deserved.

• needless to say, it didn’t take long for wallace to think of you in the highest regards. you two even started hanging out outside of the bar where you work at. if he needed something to be picked up, you’ll do it with no questions asked or you would sometimes pay for his coffee if you were out to get yourself a drink too.

— just after a few weeks of knowing you, wallace fell head over heels. and he had it bad.

• of course, he tried to suppress his feelings and tried his damn best to not make it obvious. so, what did our dear wallace do to ensure that? he started to ignore you, partially at least, and became awkward. like…scott pilgrim-level awkward. it’s weird since wallace has always been known to be the complete opposite of his ex-roommate. he’s very easy going, calm, and the voice of reason to many.

• he’s a flirt too. so, why are you having this effect on him? he just couldn’t understand why he suddenly became a bumbling idiot.

• you were worried that you did something to push wallace away, but all your questions were answered when you returned one night to find that he left a drunken message in your answering machine.

— “hey, you know, hic, i've been thinkin', like, a lot. (long pause) and, um, i just wanna say, you're, like, really somethin' special, ya know? (slight slur) i feel all mushy and stuff, but yeah, i kinda, sorta...love you, maybe? (awkward pause) yeah, that's it. hic”

[shysuccubusstuff]

day 20: Corruption kink + Corruption kink+ Virgin! Couple + Praise kink + (slight) Face fucking + Squirting + Exhibitionism + Praising – Foreseer! Zayne

Content: Religious topics (This is heavily influenced by what I know about the Catholic church (like how the ceremonies work and stuff) but they are not related, as this is only focused on Astra as God. Just to let you all know.) + Corruption kink + Virgin! Zayne + Face fucking + Foul language + Praising + Exhibitionism – Foreseer! Zayne. Non proof-reader.

Summary: Just Foreseer! Zayne but instead of being isolated and being a demigod, he is the head of the Church who worships Astra.

Word count: 2390 words.

Note: Can you imagine I finished all my essays less than a week ago and I already have a lot of stuff to do? So sad… Btw, I just love pretty men crying with their puffy lips and slightly reddened eyes, specially when the reason is that they love too much a certain person.

You had been going to the same church for several months, always one of the first who arrived, with your sweet smile as you helped the elders to climb the stairs to get to the church. You sometimes even actively participated in the mass, reading the fragments of what was said about Astra with your soft voice resonating all around the believers.

It all went downhill when you finally met the head of the Church.

A young man with black hair and green eyes, quite tall, slim, with slender hands a cold exterior. He always seemed busy, either by preparing the ceremony or by helping different activities promoted by the church. He was always kind with the rest of believers, but you always felt as if something was always between him and the rest of the believers. That’s why you tried to approach him; Didn’t he feel lonely? Always rushing around the corridors with his robe fluttering behind him, his hands completely filled with many heavy books as he looked exhausted.

So, one night, you decided to go to the church alone in order to confess. You knew that he would be inside the confessional as the old ladies had been gossiping about “a deep and rich voiced priest”. You held your breath before entering inside, pressing the small medal that you always held close to you. The church was completely silent as you entered, your steps resonating all around the empty hall. You sat down inside the small cubicle, your voice trembled as you tried to speak:

“I… I want to become someone close to you, Foreseer.” Your voice left you as a small whisper, barely audible even for the man that was next door. The silence was all that answered… You waited a few minutes, your heart pounding like crazy inside your chest making you feel way too conscious. “…Foreseer?” The man audible gasped, coughing for a moment before finally answering.

“What do you mean by that, dear one?” He tried to keep his cold exterior as his heart began to race.

“I mean I want to become friends, being friends is more than enough. I… I feel that you are always alone, and if I could grant you even a single moment of comfort, that would be enough for me.” Zayne’s face flushed, his mouth attempting to form the most charming smile you would ever be able to see.

“I do not think that this is the place nor the time to say something like that, I hope you are aware of my position, as well as my responsibilities to the Church.” Zayne got up, just about to leave the confessionary, but your warm hand stopped him on his tracks.

“Please! I know I may be acting as a child, but I truly desire the happiness of all of the members, that includes you, Foreseer. I just can’t turn my head and pretend that everyone is doing fine when I always see you exhausted around the church! You may think that you’re being sneaky, but I have seen your eyebags as you give the sermon. Please, just---” Zayne got free of your grip, leaving the cubicle in a rush, and just as you were about to leave, his hand pulled you out. What you encountered was not what you expected. It was Zayne, but he looked so different. His face was slightly flushed, with warm tears running down his cheeks. You looked at him completely baffled, did you hurt him that much? Your hands run to his face, not caring about the great difference between your status, you wiped his tears with your sleeves, but this just caused him to cry even more.

“Do you even know what you are doing? Since you started to come here, everything in my life is going wrong. Astra has been acting completely spoiled, always giving me even greater tasks while reducing the time I have to do it, my brothers have suddenly been sent to different churches, my… my head is unable to focus, even my chest has been strange, and all of this started since you came here with your pretty face, and that cute smile and with your kindness and---” Zayne stopped himself before feeling even more embarrassed, his hands trembling as he got his hand closer to yours. “Were you sent by Astra to tempt me?...” His eyes were crystallised, his nose slightly red as he tried to stop himself from crying.

“Zayne! What’s wrong? Did I hurt you that much with my selfish request?” You took his hand, embracing him as his whole body trembled.

“I’ve been trying… I even avoided you after the mass, I just couldn't, I kept thinking about you all the time, even while I kept myself secluded inside that cold room, a single thought about you was enough to set my heart ablaze. I can’t keep on denying it, please, I need you, I will do whatever for you to accept this impure me. Just---” Zayne’s knees fell to the ground, warm tears falling down his cheeks while his hands kept grabbing yours.

“Zayne, please look at me.” You took his face with both of your hands, moving his head so he could look at you. “I love you, you are not impure, you are simply a human being, it is impossible for us to live without feeling anything at all. You don’t have to punish yourself by secluding yourself, I’m sure Astra would never want that.” You kissed his forehead, as he buried his face against your stomach.

“I love you… I love you so much… I love your smile when you help others, I love the fact that you come here every single week to pray and help me with all the children… I love you.” Zayne got up, taking your face between his cold hands and kissing you, a single and cast kiss, just enough for him to deliver his true feelings for you. Suddenly, his kisses started to get faster, leaving little to no time for you to breath.

“Zayne… We shouldn’t---”

“I’ve been restraining myself for far too long… Please.” You leaned your hands on Zayne’s chest, allowing him to keep on kissing your lips. His breath soon quickened, his face blushing till the tip of his ears. Zayne was about to speak when you suddenly heard the heavy door of the church being opened, rushing, you pushed Zayne back into the small confessionary, covering his mouth as you tried to keep as still as possible.

“Dear father? I came for guidance regards a certain topic…” The voice of a man echoed around the four walls, his steps moving closer towards the confessionary. Zayne took your hand off his mouth, whispering for you to let him do his duty.

“Enter the confessionary, dear one.” His voice went back to his usual tone, almost fooling you if it wasn’t because of the hard feeling that kept rubbing against  your  stomach.

“I fear I may have committed a grave sin… These past weeks I have become quite infatuated with a certain sister… She is always so kind with all of us that I can’t help but be charmed by her…” The man that entered kept rambling about that great woman inside the community, suddenly, a bold idea struck you. With great care, you moved the heavy clothing concealing Zayne’s body, not stopping even if Zayne darted you a hard glance and his hands took yours.

“What are you doing…? Be careful with those sinful hands---” His sentence was cut short, as your hands crawled over his stomach, gradually making your way into his undergarments. Zayne coughed, his body tensing as he tried to keep his mouth completely shut.

“Are you ok, father? Do you need---?”

“No need, you can proceed, I am listening.” Zayne’s hands pushed you down, trying to keep you still. Of course, that would not work for him, as you lost no time, taking his length out of his underwear and starting to kiss the tip of his length. His breath quickened, as his hands clasped your head, trying his best not to push your head to take his full length.

The man’s blabbering kept on going as you slowly took most of Zayne’s member, using one of your hands to masturbate what was left out. You used your tongue to play with his tip, while changing the force of your sucking.

“So, I believe I have explained to you the whole situation, what do you think I should do, father?” Zayne opened his eyes, his jaw clenching as he cursed under his breath as his grip on your hair strengthened.

“I… I would advise you to avoid her, after all, she does not seem as interested in you. Nevertheless, do not lose confidence, as you will find your chosen one without failure.” The man thanked him, leaving the cubicle and closing the door of the church for the night.

“Did you have fun?” Zayne looked down at you, his brows slightly furrowed. “Well, you are probably far too busy to answer.” Zayne grabbed your head, suddenly pushing it against his stomach, forcing his whole length inside your mouth. You gagged as a few tears formed in your eyes, your mouth suddenly being filled to the brim, forcing you to try your best not to choke on his heavy load. “Oh… you did so good, dear. It is now my turn to satisfy you, am I wrong?” Zayne clothed himself, then lifting you in a bridal style and letting you sit on the central table in the church.

“Zayne! Wait, this is a sacred---” Zayne cut you down, smiling as he spoke with a playful tone.

“Oh, sure a confessionary is not, right?”  Your face flushed, allowing him to spread your legs open as he kneeled down, his face getting closer and his lips leaving soft kisses against your panties. His hands kept rubbing the inner part of your thigs while his mouth started to make a slow trace towards your clit, giving it a few licks before moving away, his hands finally getting rid of your pantyhose together with your underwear, tossing them to one of the chairs close to it.

“Let me pleasure you, my love.” Zayne kneeled again, moving your whole body closer to the edge, his warm breath hitting against your entrance. His tongue started to lick all over your lower half, the pace being painfully slow, not rushing even as your fingers pulled slightly from his hair, giving you a warning look before going back to his own duty. Your legs twitched a bit as Zayne’s tongue kept torturing your poor clit, but this had only started, as his mouth suddenly started to suck on your clit, making your eyes roll back and your legs clasp against his head.

“Wait! I… I feel really weird right now Zayne, maybe we should stop before---” Zayne sucked harder on your clit, making you bite your hand as a poor attempt of keeping your mouth shut.

“Just let me pay your act of kindness, then I will let you go, understood?” His voiced sounded demanding, so you complied, allowing him to make a mess out of you. His tongue went back to that special place, warming you up again by making simple motions with his tongue, then starting to suck on your clit again.

As you slowly got used to the immense pleasure, one of his hands made his way to your entrance, one of his digits slowly entering yourself. At the same time, his other hand started to create a bit of pressure on your lower stomach as his fingertip kept rubbing against your G-spot.

“Zayne, Zayne, I can’t do it anymore, I feel really weird...!” Instead of slowing down, Zayne’s movements only hastened causing that knot in your lower half to finally break. Before you were able to think, some warm and clear liquid were expelled as you reached your first orgasm. You felt completely ashamed, trying your best to get Zayne’s hands away so you could try and make a run for it. This did not work, as he quickly comforted you.

“Dear, that is not what you think it is, calm down.” He kissed your forehead, while his clean hand caressed your hair. “It’s ok, my love. I should have warned you about this type of thing, I focused too much on pleasuring you, I do apologise. Have I angered you?” He looked at you like a kicked puppy, his head resting on your lap as if trying to make himself look smaller.

“How… how did you even know about this? Aren’t you supposed to be pure?”

“Despite what one might think, our religion does not forbid this type of… physical encounter, as long as we do plan on sharing a romantic bond.” He started to kiss your stomach, peppering it with kisses and suddenly lifting you up. “I shall prepare a bath for the both of us, there is no need to rush our current relationship.” He kissed your forehead once again before taking you his private place, letting you catch a glimpse of the extremely cared garden filled with jasmine flowers. He walked until he reached a wooden door, opening it and letting you sit on his bed. “Give me a second.” You could hear the water running as he filled the bathtub, your mind slowly drifting to sleep as you felt completely relaxed on his company.

[devourers-of-god]

Hello again! As I understand it, applications are still open aha... I hope I haven't tormented you (sorry, I'm just wildly delighted with your work, and there are too many ideas in my head)

In general... it seems to me that it is quite difficult for Sally to open up to people, despite the fact that he is a very kind boy. It seems to me that he may be shocked by excessive tactility and emotionality

So, what about an overly active f!reader who likes to hold hands with friends, and hugs at a meeting, and kisses on the cheeks (sorry, this is literally me, and at the same time all my friends are not particularly tactile, aha ...). I was thinking that the reader might like Sal... how do you think he would react? And yes, it can be either fan fiction or headcannons, whatever you want aha. I will read everything with pleasure!!!

HI!! thank you SO much for the compliments, you are the sweetest! You are SO right about Sal D: ANS ALSO you do not torment me !!!! the requests are slow these days and im sooo happy you're taking the time to ask me stuff !I will do a one shot for this lololsorry this took a while to write, I had exams, school and work :P BUTTT I got my drivers licence LOLLL okep thanks for your request!!! and if you ever have more ideas, it will be my pleasure to try and portray your ideas with my writing!

SAL X OVERLY AFFECTIONATE READER

Warnings: None, fluff ? u guys are not dating lololol

Type: Oneshot

Oneshot -

Everyone described you with few words; bubbly, a social butterfly and VERY affectionate. You were not shy to pour your heart out to someone when needed, but you also were the first one to help a friend in need.

You always thought that being this touchy and nice to people was just common manners, until you be friended Sal Fisher.

Sal Fisher was an interesting individual, his everyday life was affected by years of torment explained by his flashbacks. He wasted a lot of his youth because Sal was isolating himself, not talking to anyone, not even his father. Even though his ''beloved'' father wasn't trying to help him to begin with. Though, this caused the young boy to develop an awkwardness to someone's touch and Sally could not properly explain to someone how he felt, he couldn't quite put words on his true feelings. Being touched, brushed or even just the thought of all this, made Sal feel something he couldn't even express. Sal was hollow, basically a shell of a human.

You luckily moved to Nockfell, the infamous town that your family wanted to move in so bad. You and your family landed in the Addison's apartments, there you met the tall Larry Jonhson. It was easy to get along with this guy anyway, you found yourself very lucky that day because the metalhead introduced you to Sal Fisher. You two will eventually end up together, but you don't know that yet.

For you, it was love at first sight. You Immediately complimented the way Sal presented himself. Basically showering him with compliments, especially his mask and hair. It wasn't your fault that you're this friendly, its the usual y/n. Sal Fisher felt almost claustrophobic by your gestures, weirdly appreciated that. You were not aware but this boy is secretly craving compliments, being this lonely for this long had affected the poor boy.

As the weeks passed, you and the blue haired boy hung out often, which made you delighted. You two were eating lunch together while the others had an art project to complete. Mr. Fisher and you were discussing when suddenly Sal made you laugh, your reflexes got the best of you and pushed him gently. Sal smiled to himself as his face turned crimson. ''God you are so funny, you need to stop my cheeks are hurting!!'' You confessed as you chuckled lightly. ''Pretty sure my name is Sal ,y/n'' your crush responded. You punched his shoulder gently, just as a way of saying to shut it. You knew that Sal was not introduced properly to your love language, but luckily you asked his closest friends about all of this. They approved to you that the masked boy isn't disturbed by it. It motivated you to not hide your true self, since your upcoming boyfriend is fond of it.

In an instant, the bell rang. You got up quickly and held Sal's hand to make sure he's following. You didn't want to lose him in the crowded halls right? Or did you just want an excuse to hold his hand? Sal figured this out but never told you.

Arrived to his locker, you were so happy that day and your nature took over suddenly, you peeked a small kiss on the cheek of Sal's prosthetic. '' See ya Sal! Goodluck with your math test-'' You yelled out as you escaped. You were proud of yourself too, you really liked Sal and the only way to show it is with affection and physical touch. You could not believe you actually did that. The next class felt like it was the longest ever, the school system was seperating you from your future lover.

Meanwhile, Sal's train of thoughts was going faster than usual. He froze in place for a good 5 minutes with his face hotter than when he had the flu. He thought to himself that you might like him, but Sal reasoned himself after saying that you probably do that to everyone. He wasn't so special, he thought. Normally, affecting gestures are not welcome for Sal Fisher, but you stood out. He actually felt great in your embrace. Even though he's not quick enough to hug back sometimes, he melts every time.

''Man I know you like her, you don't even let us touch you dude.'' Larry said after Sal reported everything of today. Sal closed his locker door a bit louder than he should've.

''Fuck off Larry. She's just different I guess.'' Sal retorted, what's left of his face turned a tint of pink, ballet pink to be exact. Sal thought to himself that he was pleased that the school day finally ended, they could finally go home and play som- Sal's thoughts were cut off by you hugging Sal as a way of greeting. He felt his legs soften beneath him. Sal's heart skipped various beats. '' Hi Sal!! Oh hi Larry! What are you guys up to after school?'' You smiled wildly as you got closer to Sal, which made him shiver. Larry started to smirk in a more of an evil way ''Oh I'm actually busy tonight but I know that Sal wanted to hang out with you y/n'' Sal bumped into him ''accidentally''.

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away ''I would love to! My parents are picking me up today so- text me okay?'' You ended your sentence with a small wink directed to Sal. You quickly left to go in your guardian's car. Suddenly you didn't feel like walking like everyone else, you were so happy you skipped your way to the car. Sal's jaw was hanging since Larry opened his ''dumb mouth'' as Sal would say.

''Youre welcome my man!'' Larry chuckled.

'' Get lost.''

HELLO!! hope you liked it :) I don't know why, im less satisfied with this.. if there's anything you guys think I should add please feel free to share your thoughts with me!! Per usual, stay safe and MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!!!! its currently almost 1 am lawd goodnight friends :) P-S: we're almost at 150 followers!!!!!! very exciting :DDDD thank you!!

[angelofacidx]

Mine

((@bunnyreaper V day exchange for @literatecowboy . I do not write fluff but here’s my crack at it, enjoy))

Ghost x reader fluff.

Valentine’s Day is a stupid Hallmark holiday meant to put pressure on couples to over perform and shower each other with gifts so that they may forget about how they treat each other the other 364 days of the year, or to make people feel isolated and lonely for not having a partner in their life. At least, that’s what you’d told yourself for most of your adult life. A self soothing consultation? Maybe. Valid? You’d like to think so. This view was swayed however, when Simon slipped his way past the iron gates of your heart and made himself a home there, rent free, the bastard.

A poorly folded note sat on top of your endless pile of risk assessment paperwork to go over before the end of the week, looking sorely out of place on your otherwise tidy desk. The note found itself clutched between your hands and splayed open as your curiosity surged. The handwriting itself was harsh, pen pressed too hard, angrily or nervously, and akin to what you’d expect a serial killer’s penmanship to be.

‘Be my valentine? -S’

Good lord, this was cheesy for anyone but especially for Simon. Regardless you felt the heat rise to your cheeks and your lips half quirk up involuntarily and awkwardly. Tucking the note away into your desk drawer, you headed to the rec room in pursuit of it’s sender. Thankfully, he was hunkered down on the peeling leather couch, tea in hand as he scrolled through an article on his phone. Probably about WWII. Men love WWII.

“You know you didn’t have to ask right?” You speak up, causing Simon’s gaze to tear away from his phone and fall onto you.

“Pardon?”

“The note. You didn’t have to ask. It’s kinda like…implied since we’ve been uhm..” You cough, clearing your throat and hoping he understands the implication.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, an eyebrow raised, and not bothering to humor you.

“…Yes, but no corny stuff.”

“So a string quartet to your office. Got it.” He says, turning his attention back to whatever he was reading.

When you wake, Simon is out of your bed and gone, his side neatly made with the corners of the sheets and duvet hospital tucked and the pillow fluffed. This wasn’t unusual for the two of you by any means. He’d come over after work, get fed, rearrange your internal organs in a way he saw fit, retire with you for the night, and then be out before his conditioning regimen started.

You sit up in bed, arching your back like a cat and stretching your body out with a content moan, shrugging off the sleepy feeling that ran bone deep. Your phone lit up on your bed side then, calling your attention to the string of ‘happy Valentine’s Day!’ texts from your friends. Cute. No text from Simon though, as you suspected. You wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot about the whole ordeal and the note was just a manipulation tactic, hoping you’d fawn over the gesture and suck the soul out of him harder than you had before.

Your morning routine went by without issue. Shower, brush your teeth, get dressed and apply makeup, a small spritz of perfume to your wrist. Making your way to the dining room, the usual resting spot for your keys, you’d noticed an iced coffee from your favorite cafe sitting on the table. It was a kind gesture, although the cup was sweaty and the ice was slightly melted, it was sweet of him nonetheless.

Your day at work dragged on as usual. Typing, filing, placing new recruits in their respective units and then completing the paperwork that went with it. Although you were just a desk jockey, you were the backbone of every goddamn task force on this base. Nature called you out of your office to relieve yourself and upon returning, your eyes mimicked an owl’s; huge pupils the size of saucers. Your desk was overtaken by a flower arrangement. Two dozen roses, babies breath, carnations, and eucalyptus all bunched together with a big silky black bow and overflowing the poor glass vase.

This was too much and beyond embarrassing. Your face heated, palms gathering sweat, and heart hammered somewhere deep in your chest. You mentally cringed at the image of carrying this home, the walk of shame off base and the sure to follow childish “ooo”’s from your colleagues. You had to admit though, it was a beautiful arrangement. He had to have picked it out and put some thought and consideration into it, which meant a lot to you even if you didn’t want to admit it.

With a determined pace you left your office, aiming to find Simon. After checking every nook and cranny of the base and leaving no stone unturned, you came up blank. He definitely knew you were looking for him, and saw you before you could see him. Though he was massive, he was able to be elusive and slip right through your fingers like sand. You admired the ability and wished you could do the same, but in the moment you hated him for it. Feeling defeated you headed back to your office, hat in hand, to see another note on your desk.

‘I’ll see you at home. -S’

Home. The word echoed in your mind. Though he stayed over at your place most nights during the week he’d never called it your home. The word itself sent you reeling, a giddy chuckle escaping you before you could stop it. Jesus, get a grip. He’s a guy you’re monogamously hooking up with who just so happens to return to your house every night like a stray cat, not your boyfriend. Totally not.

The end of your shift could not come faster. You sped walked to your car with your arms around the comically large vase, careful not to spill any water as it sloshed around and threatened to soak you. The vase ended up in your passenger seat, buckled in like a person as you made the trek back home.

Entering and kicking off your shoes, the smell of garlic, basil, and onion hit you. Simon sat at the table, two plates of pasta on either side and two glasses of wine. Carefully, you set the vase down as a centerpiece and ruffled a hand through his hair.

“You didn’t need to do all that Si. I appreciate it but you totally could have gotten away with a card or something.” You said, placing a kiss on his forehead before taking a seat at the table. Everything looked amazing.

“You’re better than a card darlin’ M’ almost offended for you. Have some standards will ya?”

“If I had standards you wouldn’t be sitting across from me.” You teased, which pulled a chuckle from his chest and the shake of his head. Your hand found his, giving him a reassuring squeeze that you were joking before letting it fall to your side.

“Did you cook this?” You questioned, stabbing a fork into the pasta and swirling it to gather some on the fork.

“…No. But I plated it so that counts for somethin’ right?”

“It does.” You assured, digging into your food.

The dinner and wine was delicious but silent, how the both of you liked it. Life and work was so busy it was nice to just sit together and exist without noise sometimes.

After you’d both finished you attempted to stand and clear the dishes but he stopped you with a hand to your chest, taking the duty on himself.

“They are beautiful, really. The flowers I mean. I appreciate them and I appreciate you, you really didn’t have to—.”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand, drying them on the dish towel after he finished cleaning up.

“You’re goin’ all soft on me and haven’t even opened the best part.”

“The best part? What is it?” You questioned too fast, mentally scolding yourself for sounding eager.

He fished a small box out of his pocket, placing it on the table in front of you and nodding his head, a silent tell to open it. Your hands found the box, opening it at its hinges carefully. Inside and sitting on the plush black velvet of the box laid a small silver chain necklace with the initial ‘S’.

Your eyes once again widened in awe as he moved to grab it from you carefully.

“Hold up your hair.” He said barely above a whisper.

With your hair out of the way he clasped the necklace around you, adjusting it to his liking before letting your hair fall back to its resting place.

“I uhm.. This.. What does this..?” You trailed off, anxiety twisting in your stomach.

“It means you’re mine, yeah?” He said in a hushed tone, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“..Yeah.” You agreed, breathily and hugging him to your chest.

You were his.

[pastafossa]

hi pasta :) hope your week is going well so far !!

i dunno if you’ve spoken about this or been asked before (i apologise if you have) but i was just wondering how you always get matt’s characterisation so spot on?? if i didn’t know any better, i’d have thought you wrote the show. i can literally always picture him doing/saying the stuff you write <333

😭😭😭 This is like, an AMAZING compliment oh my god, thank you so much!

As for the question I'm not sure if I've talked about it before but ironically seeing it in my ask box triggered a discussion with sis. Like, I know there are folks who have a different take on Matt than mine. That's valid! So I don't want to be like... 'I did the research and delved and etc etc' because they do too. But eventually me and sis arrived at a conclusion that it's a few combos of things that makes Matt easy for me to click with:

A lot of psych classes in college that ironically I've used more for writing than anything else. This helped me understand some of how Matt's background of abandonment and trauma would potentially affect him and influence his coping techniques and behavior. I like learning psych stuff in general so that all wound up being an influence. I'll always recommend digging into this when working with characters!

I've watched Daredevil over and over and over and over and the more I've rewatched, the more I wind up picking up on new things and analyzing what Matt is thinking or feeling (bless Charlie for giving Matt so many little hints and fidgets and subtle touches of what Matt's internally feeling). This includes interviews, behind the scenes stuff, anything breaking down the why of Matt. I'm familiar with him at this point.

There are certain parts of Matt's character that I relate to incredibly strongly as a disabled person with chronic pain raised in the church, and also as someone who went through a long lonely period of depression where I felt very isolated, and then was afraid when I did finally make friends that they'd leave me. So. There's always an element with Matt that's like, 'ah I get it', this sense of resonation. I feel like that natural click with Matt really helped me when writing him, cause... been there, get the motivation, also dude needs to cry more and let that stress out, trust me.

This sounds weird but me and my sis love to break characters down, rip them apart to examine their insides. We love our favorite characters and talking about all their wholesome or badass elements, but we also gd love and have fun dissecting flaws, fuckups, the shadow self, character trauma, are they the asshole, is EVERYONE the asshole, what does this mean when he did this or that. The whole Pasta clan is immersed in that - Dad was a theatre major so got a lot of practice, Mom's loved lit forever, and we all have this tendency, so I got very comfortable very early with taking characters apart in a really honest way to figure out how and why they tick and what the writer/actor is trying to tell you. And since we've all seen Daredevil, and dad has also read a lot of the earlier comics, we've all more than once metaphorically laid Matt out on the table like a frog and dissected his character. I feel like having someone who's not only willing to talk about these layers with you, but also comfortable enough with you to kinda push back and go 'Or what if he was doing it because of this' or 'Ok yeah you love him but he was actually being the asshole here because *valid reason*' is important. Get you some allies who love to know why characters tick!

So basically lots of reading, really enjoying picking characters apart with fam, and familiarity, all mixed up in a bucket of 'Ooooh poor thing, I've been there and that was not fun. You really need therapy and maybe some antidepressants.'

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

am i the asshole for leading a guy on an low-key manipulating his feelings? (🐺 so i can find it later)

trigger warnings for mental health issues, family death, and suicide mentions.

title is kiiinda dramatic, i know. and i should be clear that i know that what i did was definitely wrong to a degree, but idk how messed up it was.

for context: i (19 f) was freshly seventeen and had just returned to in person school for my senior year after doing my junior year online at home. the majority of my best and only friend had forgotten me almost entirely and abandoned me despite our texting throughout my online year. new social circles had formed in my absence and i had a very difficult time readjusting, especially because i had come out of isolation with worsened anxiety, depression, and lowkey suicidal idealization. to top it all off, my grandfather who i adored had just died. i was desperately lonely and at the lowest i had ever been mentally in my entire life. i say this all not to excuse my actions but to provide some context as to why i acted the way i did.

so i meet this guy (i think like 15-16?) who we'll call finn. finn is a year below me but we share an elective class. we were initially drawn to each other bc we were both the only alt/geeky kids in the room and hit it off really well. and at first things are going pretty good; we eat lunch together every day, share music, talk about our interests etc. normal friend stuff.

but here's the part where i'm probably ta: finn had told me earlier on that he's the type to catch feelings super easy, so i guess i should've expected it, but he tells me that he has a crush on me. not directly though--he starts talking about this girl that he has feelings for but doesn't have the courage to confess to. and the first time he brought it up i didn't realize it was me and ofc tried to hype him up so he could confess and all that. but by the second conversation we have about it, it dawns on me that he's definitely talking about me. and i'm like "ah fuck," because the last person i wanted it to be was me--i'm mostly into girls, and also saw finn as a little brother more than anything else. but i keep hyping him up anyways saying stuff like "oh c'mon the worst she can do is say no! and even then you can at least move on with closure!"

so he takes my advice and confesses to me over text. i turn him down as politely as i can. which is where this whole thing should've ended tbh. but it didn't. his confession (even though it was over text) really endeared me and made me feel appreciated and beautiful in a way i never had been before. i'm not conventionally attractive + a plus size girl, and had never had anyone confess to me before, let alone say something as sincere and sweet as finn did to me. i was always the girl guys dared each other to ask out as a joke, yknow? it felt nice to know that someone saw me as desirable. again, this doesn't excuse my actions or justify them. just context.

so i decide that even though i know i'm not going to pursue anything with finn, i don't want him to lose interest in me either. so i start acting like i might be into him. tell him certain outfits make him look cute, go on and on about how much i love his hair (he really did have nice hair tbh), lean in a little closer when we talked, and constantly reassure him that he'd get a gf soon because good-looking, sweet and funny guys like him don't stay single for long.

he definitely notices bc he (again over text) asks if it's ok to be more physical when we interact. like can he hold my hand if we walk down the hall or whatever. this is definitely where i should've stopped, but i didn't. i kept up the pseudo-flirting bullshit.

and then he confesses (you guessed it! over text) for a second time, insisting that he really thinks that i like him back now. i tell him i don't know what he's talking about but that i'm happy to keep being friends with him. again, i don't stop the flirting-that's-not-quite-flirting.

this continues all the way until the end of the year. he tells me before i graduate that he really cares for me and doesn't want to lose touch after i leave. i promise him we won't. at this point i'd realized the gravity of my actions and had come to regret the way i treated finn, and decided the best course of action was to let our friendship fizzle out after i graduate. so i stop responding as frequently to him, he eventually stops reaching out until finally we lost contact and i delete his number.

i know that what happened was kinda fucked up, but how bad of a fuck up was this tumblr?

(secondary question: is this something that would've had a lasting impact on him and his view of relationships? i hope it isn't. i hope he forgot about me quickly. i hope he's doing better and has found someone who actually likes him.)

What are these acronyms?

[kastlenetwork]

Hi! So I'm pretty new to the kastle fandom and wanted to know if there are any like- classic fics or interviews or memorable moments in panels and cons (with the actors) that I should know about? I know about the interviews that are on the kastle wikifandom page but only because I've read them.

helloooo! welcome to the family! it's been quite quiet lately, but frank and karen are always in our hearts lolol and every now and then there's a little resurgence, so that's nice. umm first up interviews. there's a lot of little quotes here and there that were a big deal. we didn't get many interviews of the two of them together, if i remember correctly. i think two comic cons were pretty exciting.

here are some interviews from comic con 2017 yup

this is a cute clip from last year, where deborah talked about how jon's intense but really uplifted her. and that they want to work together again.

(i'm looking at kastle's wikifandom and, really, the big interview quotes all seem to be there.)

“ … just in terms of whether this is Jon’s story to tell or my story to tell, you just want to kind of be respectful of everybody’s contributions. Jon and I have certainly felt that there is room for a romantic story in there. And there were certainly scenes where we took it farther in some takes than we did in other takes. We’ll have to sort of wait and see what the editors chose, and how far they decided to push it. But we as actors allowed for that possibility.” -deb cinemablend

deborah and jon were both supporters, but deborah was always including frank into karen's romantic potentials:

“But all of the romance I’ve gotten to play, with any of the characters in the series, whether that’s Frank or Matt, they all come from a need. From a lonely person, a person who doubts whether she is deserving of love.” -deb collider

**

“I like that Karen can say, ‘How far down this road of violence of revenge do you go before you’re ripped apart?’ and he can look at her and go, ‘I’m already ripped apart. And you are, too.‘” -deb 92.1 bobfm

**

“When professor [Jeph] Loeb [Marvel TV head] told me we were gonna do a series on The Punisher,” Bernthal continued, “first thing i asked him is would I have the pleasure and the honor to work again with one of the most honest, the most kind, and the most talented actors I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.” --jon ew

oh! karen page being announced for the punisher. very cute.

"i just want to say, you guys don't love him as much as i do" was very exciting when it happened lmaoooo. the hope for kastle was high.

*****

i'll be honest up front and say, i tend to forget a lot of stuff? so, basically, i can read a fic and then read it again months later and it's like a brand new experience. which is both a blessing and a curse. so, i basically just zoomed through my bookmarks to try and find some things?? 😩😩

(i'm scanning my bookmarks and.............a lot of them are basically just smutfdjklgsdfjglkdfjglkdfjg)

ballads for a dead man ❤❤ [three parts, unfinished] Safe up in the mountains with Frank following a bloody showdown in Hell's Kitchen, Karen wonders just how much more complicated things between them can get. She's about to find out.

these heavy words, your open heart 😘😘 (this was a kastlechristmas gift to me from @carry-the-sky 😊❤) “You told me once that I was honest. That I don’t lie to you. But the hospital—you asked me to start over, and I said I didn’t want that.” Karen sucks in a breath. Frank’s eyes are still on her, wide and bright. It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him look. “I lied,” he says.

The Reporter  [kinda iconic ❤👀] Force Recon missions keep Marines isolated, entrenched for long periods in covert locations. They rarely received visitors, and in Frank’s long experience, the visitors were almost never civilians, let alone gorgeous blondes with mile long legs and sky blue eyes. Frank was trying not to stare. They all were. Well, everyone except Bill, who’s face had just split into a shit-eating grin.

The Flower Cam [oh god, the flower cam! i just remembered!! ❤] It had been a long time since there had actually been any flowers in the window. She must have trashed the white roses after his latest bullshit at the hospital with Madani and the kid. Good. Good for her. She should forget about him. But still… Frank couldn’t help but check every once in a while.

actually just, everything in their ao3. i have all this bookmarked.

(..................god, my bookmarks are really all smut. this says a lot about me.)

Castle’s Auto Shop ❤❤ yes. yep. Karen Page is in need of a car mechanic. Castle’s Auto Body Shop seems a reasonable choice. There’s just one problem: This little auto shop has become a well-known spot where less than honorable people to go get their car fixed…only to have justice find them at the next stop light. Having her brother’s truck fixed there means Karen will have to own up to a few secrets in her past.

Blood and Bone ❤❤❤! this is the fic that has seared itself into my brain. i've never once forgotten this. iconic. Frank Castle is a boxer at the top of his game. Laconic and anti-social, he has a reputation for being an incredibly-tough interview. Karen Page is a sports reporter trying to prove herself in a male-dominated field. She's done playing games--trying to be the "Cool Girl" who caters to the male fantasy--and now she's on a mission to take no shit. "For a while, the fact that an interview with Castle lasting longer than 5 minutes even existed was big news. Splashed all over the message boards—circulated among boxing and Castle fans alike. The very concept that someone actually got the man to sit down for more than a breath of time and give multiple-sentence answers to a question—it was huge. Massive. It was the only thing Castle fans could talk about. Until three months later, when Frank Castle disappeared. Then that was the news. It was the only news."

this is hard lmaoo how ludicrious. i have about seven collections from some of our events, as well. there's loads of good stuff in there:

kastlesmutweek 2018

kastlesmutweek 2019

kastlechristmas 2018

kastlechristmas 2019

kastlechristmas 2020

kastlechristmas 2021

kastlechristmas parent collection

[futurequibblerjournalist]

Hello again!!!!

I don't really have much to say abt Mary bc you did like,, such a good job telling me everything that I could have asked about her! You do a great job with everyone that I HAVE asked about too but you get it (I hope lol)

Do you have any like,, thoughts on Lucius? :0 or Viktor!!!! Ik you mentioned him a little while ago :3 Idk seeing him with your interpretation of Igor Karkaroff is special to me idk

Byebye!!!! See you soon lol :D

- 🍃

Ahhhhh I’m so glad you liked my little Mary rant!! I love chatting about the girls they’re just all so mwah,,,

I have a handful of thoughts on Lucius!

His full name is Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and he was born September 8th 1953 (making him a Virgo) at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England. He’s the first born son of Abraxas Malfoy and only son of Luceille Malfoy née Famelle (she’s distantly related to the Flamels but as you can tell some stuff has gotten lost over the years hence the slight change in the last name!) and he’s the older half brother of Xenophilius. His mother died in childbirth and thus he never knew her and it’s given him a few issues ngl,,,

Abraxas remarried a few years after Luceille’s death and thus Xenophilius became a thing. Hestia (Xeno’s mother) tried to step into the role of mum for Lucius but he never wanted any of that and he was lowkey mad at his dad for remarrying even if he never felt like he should let anyone know.

I think he and Narcissa fully adopted Severus as like their Hogwarts kid just like how Xenophilius and Pandora later do with Gilderoy lol (it clearly runs in the family). I don’t usually base my headcanons off of the mobile game but there’s hints in there that Lucius and Narcissa’s marriage was a love match and I 100% believe that. He gifted her a Malfoy brooch to welcome her into the family I believe when they were first engaged (which would have been at some point while she was still at school?? because she puts it in her keepsake box that she had with her sisters while they were all at school) and to tell her that she was worthy of becoming a Malfoy. I think he placed a lot of values on family which is why I also think it’s so funny that the family he does have he’s like “nope I don’t wanna be related to that freak [points to Xeno]” lmaooo

I really love the fact that he’s a part of the school board. Like I don’t think people talk about that enough actually. Also the Malfoy house being represented by (albino?) peacocks and him canonically having Malfoy manor decked out with rhinestones or diamond rims or something like that in the windowsill. Like he’s so cunty. And that’s before we’ve even touched on the obvious hair care routine and the cunty bow that he 100% match with Narcissa.

I honestly need to think about him more but I think he’s just,, so funny. Also imagining Severus running around in his cunty ass hand me downs is just??? I can’t

As for Viktor!!!

I think he’s so fun. Like,, he’s actually so sweet and people can say what they want I don’t even care. I think he was really sweet to Hermione at a time where she needed it and I think it would have been fun to see them when they were older as like a fun ass power couple with him being a professional quidditch player and her being minister for magic. They’d like,, they’re so mwah to me.

I think it says a lot about how like,, lonely and isolated this kid was when the most important person to him was a girl he’d met a few months earlier. Like he didn’t have a Durmstrang buddy and one could assume if he had siblings they weren’t close and that just,, idk I feel bad for him. I like the idea of him striking up a friendship with Fleur and Cedric though despite them competing and all that

Similar like how I think Karkaroff is actually Karkarov I think Krum is likely Krumov (Крумов). It’s even stated in his wiki that it’s likely that Krum is just like,, an Anglicisation of Krumov. Speaking of Igor, I think Igor was friends/familiar with Viktor’s uncle when he went to school. I don’t have an explanation as to why he has decided to take Viktor under his wing in the way he has but I do think it’s kinda sweet. Me and a friend talked about this once but Igor would totally favour Viktor to the daughter he (in some universes) has with Charity and he’d be like “no no you’re imagining it” meanwhile we’ve seen how blatant his favouritism is lol

Now to the headcanon I’ve probably thought the most about lol,,, I think he’s got some sort of brain injury. This probably sounds a little damn okay but I think it makes sense. I think it makes sense with how much quidditch he plays. A lot of athletes have some sort of injury and considering how he went professional so early he’s undoubtedly played since he was young and I would not be surprised if he took a hit to the head a few times. I think this injury happened during his fourth-ish year (maybe during the summer when he was going extra hard on practicing at home or something??) and he took a Bludger to the frontal lobe and was knocked off of his broom.

I think he repeated a year because of this injury and having to recover (I’m pretty sure his age doesn’t line up with the rest of his supposed peers which is what I’m basing this on but also it’s 9 am and I’ve not yet slept so I could be pulling this out of my ass so keep that in mind lol).

He’s canonically noted as not being particularly intelligent (one of his canon nicknames is literally Dumb Krum) and I think this is in part because of this injury and the issues that followed him afterwards. I specifically think he’d had struggles with reading, both being slow at it and having poor reading comprehension as well as having a poor memory and being prone to confusion. (I also see him struggling with speech at times, perhaps some struggles with grip (which would be especially frustrating and something he’s working hard to overcome given his quidditch position) and since he’s noted as a bit of a klutz I wouldn’t be surprised if he bumped into things a lot).

His Transfiguration spell during the second task in the tournament is not done properly. Even if human transfiguration is a more difficult kind of transfiguration I would assume that if he’s smart enough to cover the basics, Igor (given his own talents with the subject) would have made sure his favourite student had mastered it. Whether this is something he was able to do before his injury I’m open to any takes on. He’s mentioned as someone who’s confident in his duelling skills but not necessarily good at duelling and even though Dark Arts are mentioned in his wiki it’s only in regards to things he did under the Imperius Curse

Also!!! Completely unrelated to me thinking he’s got a brain injury, I am a skinny twig looking Viktor Krum stan. I will always be mad we didn’t get to see him like that in the movies because he’s quite literally described as Severus and Igor’s love child lmaoooo

Can you tell I’ve been waiting to talk about him?? He’s like,, one of if not the only golden trio era character I care about lmao

I hope you enjoyed my little ramble cjfncjnfjc I saved my thoughts about these two for a bit to send something fun your way!!

[sleepy-symphony]

Finally finished TMA s4, and here are my final thoughts! Thoughts are under the cut because I have A Lot to say.

This season was so hard to get through. Not because I didn't like it (I loved it), but because it was so stressful. When it comes to fictional characters, I'm very empathetic, and I literally felt like I was feeling stress alongside them

Elias and Peter are my favorite homophobes frfr. First, Elias roasts the fuck out of Martin for liking Jon and then Peter isolates him from Jon. Honestly, I think Elias should've called Martin a homophobic slur at least once, but you can't have everything ig

Georgie continues to slay AND she likes women. I need her

I'm sorry, but Basira started to piss me off a little. Like, I get that she's gay for Daisy or whatever, but that doesn't mean she gets to be hypocritical about the whole avatar-feeding situation. How come it's fine for Daisy to straight up KILL people but not for Jon to traumatize them? Like, both are bad, but I feel as though this should be an both-or-none situation.

I got really attached to Adelard Dekker for some reason and then got really sad when we found out he was dead :(

I'm going to have to make a whole post about Jon and Martin, but goddamn did I love their dynamic in this season!!! Like, they didn't interact much for obvious reasons, but the way their relationship was... it scratched my brain.

And Martin!!! He continues to be my absolute favorite character. Also, I find it funny that the character I happen to find very relatable gets affected by The Lonely. Like, damn, thanks for calling me out. Anyway, I love his character growth (and decline, possibly) and I'm excited to see him more in s5!!!

Speaking of s5... wtf was up with the last episode of s4?? Like, you're telling me that everything was just one big set-up? And that all of the work that went into stopping the Unknowing was all for nothing? OUCH

So, fun fact, but when Jon started reading that chant that started the apocalypse or whatever is happening, I said "No, babygirl!" out loud. I am not ashamed of this in the slightest

ANYWAYS, that was Very Long. I'm gonna wait a few days until I jump into s5. But I'll probably make a post or two yapping about stuff that went down in s4, because it's been a wild ride.

[imaginarylungfish]

AUDHD 👏 GOJO 👏

I’m right there with you so, in true AuDHD style, I’m zooming into your inbox to infodump because I’m ALWAYS desperate to scream about this (shout out to @ellionwrites for patiently and compassionately listening to my unpolished rambles about a lot of this stuff in private)!

I actually have a LOT of thoughts about 236 and how it’s Gojo’s “unmasking”. That chapter is really emotional for me because of how well it articulates my personal experience of navigating the world as an autistic person. This post (and especially its tags) from right after it came out says it in a much more concise way, but Gojo’s upset pout breaks my heart because, to me, that's evidence of “no matter how much you try, people will misunderstand you” and damn… that hits a little close to home 🥲

It’s why his death had such a strong impact on me, especially when it felt like half the internet was ignoring the actual words Gojo said to claim “he never cared about that stuff, he was arrogant from the start and you just misread him". In combination with “it was the best ending for a character like Gojo" — right after we find out how deeply lonely he’s been, never able to truly connect with anyone after Geto left? Well, it was mindblowingly meta and, therefore, pretty painful to read.

I wrote an analysis of Gojo’s character in 236 and, even though I wasn’t viewing him through an autistic lens for that particular post, I think my words under the cut still read that way — that’s how baked into his character I think this stuff is! I genuinely think the two pairs of sorcerers sitting with their backs to each other is a visual representation of the double empathy problem. I'm not sure autistic and allistic people can ever arrive at a place where we fully understand each other, but that doesn’t mean autistic people have to carry all the burden and remain isolated. That’s why it’s meaningful that Gege makes it clear that all the characters care about each other, even if they don’t see eye-to-eye.

Glad to see you shouting about this reading of his character, because I haven’t seen many people talking about it. Some people are very hostile to ND headcanons, especially for characters as popular as Gojo, which is why I haven’t really talked about it much myself. However, I feel like any fellow AuDHDers who read my fic must be side-eying me constantly because I don’t think I’m subtle about how I write Gojo’s character at ALL 🤪

Maybe it’s time to be brave and publicly share my 236 AuDHD!Gojo manifesto for the five of us who are standing in a circle screaming about this! Cheering you on and sending lots of love ♥️

Ahhhhh thank you so much for this infodump!!!! I was on a AuDHD!Gojo rampage last night as my brain worm hit right as I should have been going to sleep. But such are things....

Like idk why it didn't truly hit me until now, but I can't unseen Gojo as AuDHD. (It was probably because I re-watched "Everything's Gonna be Okay" with some AuDHD representation and then I started thinking of other AuDHD characters and immediately thought of Gojo.) I did play with the idea a few months back, but it hit me with full force yesterday.

Idk like I get a little annoyed with people who think I or others like Gojo just because "he's hot" because like okay fine yes (but also I think I just have gender envy but that's a whole other can of worms). But also, no no no that's not it! My love for Gojo is more than that! He speaks to me as a character. He's misunderstood. He's seen as something he isn't. In my eyes, he's neurodivergent (and queer). And Geto was the only other person who ever saw him for who he really was.

Gojo's death was really hard on me. I remember exactly where I was when I read that chapter. And then the airport. Fuck. EmOtIOns. At first, I tried understanding Nanami's words. I really did. But really, I just didn't if I'm honest. Those words were a shock to me. Like yeah okay he's selfish (but like aren't all humans?). He also helps though! Isn't that obvious? And at the end? He wanted to have an equal to go all out with in a fight. Again, why was that bad? He was also helping! What's the issue? He's a fallible human. Like you said in your analysis, he contains multitudes. What's wrong with that?

So, like many others, I thought maybe I misread Gojo. But no. Now I think the missing piece was that Gojo is AuDHD and Nanami didn't quite get that. He didn't understand Gojo's actions. (And ahh god that lil pout. Gojo was just living his life and people saw him but they never ~saw~ him.)

I think the visual of the sorcerers back-to-back is a great metaphor for the double empathy problem. I never saw it that way, but I see it now and like it! And I think you're so right with the fact that the characters still respect and support each other even if they don't understand each other fully. I think that's a theme woven throughout the story.

Blahhh I feel like there is so much textual support for AuDHD Gojo. Like him being blindsided by Geto's defection because he didn't see Geto's decline (and don't get me started about Autistic!Geto with his strict black-and-white thinking), him just blabbing about sweets when he meets up with Megumi before fighting one-finger Sukuna at the beginning, the fact he thought revealing Yuuji to his classmates at the exchange event would be funny (cause hey, I thought it would too until it happened and I saw oh hey, it wasn't), etc. Plus, his blindfold. His overall personality. Like, it's such a heavy mask. Now I see that.

I feel like people either love Gojo or they hate him. (I immediately gobbled up your analysis and 100% agree. And I think people's reactions to his death are pretty telling.)

So, thank you for the yummy AuDHD!Gojo content. Please feel free to send me more/link me to things. I feel like I have a million more things to say but my brain is jumping all over the place and I've already spent 40 minutes this morning on this when I should have been getting ready for work. Hehe, whoops.

Gojo is AuDHD. I will die on this hill. Let's keep staring and screaming at each other about this. Sending you good vibes and love as well 🤍

[bullet-prooflove]

Exs: Jeff Clarke x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @telepathay @iworldlywriter @caffeinatedwoman @winchesterszvonecek @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @upsteadlogic @skyesthebomb @neapolitantoebeans @olymosity @stxrryswvrld @courtney-elizabeth93 @stelacole @kabloswrld

It isn’t often you drop into the fire station. Sometimes there’s a crossover, Jeff ends up at Chicago Med or you have to drop something off but you don’t generally stray onto each other’s territory. You’re both professionals after all.

Unfortunately it’s been a hectic morning. Rocco had swallowed one of Jeff’s socks, which meant a visit to the vet. Jeff had had to bring him to work because he had to be supervised for the next twenty four hours and there was an overlap in your schedules.

It’s when you pull onto the street outside the firehouse that you see Jeff and Lisa out on the courtyard. They’ve been divorced over a year now, separated for another before that. He’d told you the story, he’d been back barely a month before she’d walked out on him. He was falling apart after his last tour and instead of supporting him, she’d packed her stuff and left. It’s only afterwards that he’d discovered she’d been seeing another man.

You can tell he’s livid from his stance. His back is ramrod straight, his muscles tense and rigid. He clasps his hands behind his back, one hand gripping his wrist as if he’s terrified he’s going to take a swing at her. There’s a moment of indecision on your part because this conversation it looks private but you can tell that Jeff’s about five seconds from losing his temper. You’ve seen it happen once before when a guy laid hands on you in the Emergency Room, and the signs are there now as you approach the two of them.

“Let’s just spend some time together.” You hear Lisa say and it riles something deep inside of you.

You aren’t a possessive by nature but you are protective and Lisa, she has no idea of the damage she did to Jeff’s psyche, how he shut down completely after she left, how he couldn’t trust, how he isolated himself because he felt worthless, broken.

It’s only being here at the firehouse that changed those things, finding people who accepted him, who cared about him. He started to open up again after that, adjust to life as a civilian.

“I would rather eat glass.” He tells her, his tone fierce as he speaks. “You destroyed me Lisa, you don’t get to come back now because you’re feeling lonely.”

It’s then that he sees you, your hands tucked in your pockets as you step towards him. His eyes are a furious shade of blue, wild and torrent like the sea in a storm. He doesn’t want you to see this, to him like this. Being around Lisa flicks a switch in his brain, it makes him angry, dark, vengeful.

Lisa follows his gaze, her eyes coming to rest on you. You see the moment of realisation, she looks between you and Jeff before she crosses her arms over her chest.

“He’ll never love you.” Lisa tells you as she begins to walk away. “He isn’t capable of it.”

Jeff flinches at the words, they strike like bullets, searing through his chest. He wants to tell you it’s not true, that he cares deeply for the people in his life but the words they just won’t leave his lips because Lisa has this way of getting in his head, of messing with him.

“Your ex is a piece of work.” You tell him as the two of you watch Lisa climb into her car, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Yea.” He says with a sigh, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “I don’t like what she brings out in me.”

“I have an ex like that too.” You find yourself telling him. “Back in St Louis. It’s was like a needle in my brain everytime he opened his mouth. I hated the person I was when I was around him.”

Jeff tilts his head towards you, his eyebrows furrowing. It’s the first time you’ve mentioned the reason you left Missouri, he’d assumed it was the position at Med but now he can tell there’s more to the story.

“Tell me about it?” He asks you, because he thinks you might just be the only person in the world who actually understands the rawness that Lisa brings out of him.  

You link your arm through his, guiding him gently back towards the firehouse. The scent of your perfume floods his senses and already he feels the fight ebbing out of him. He doesn’t understand how you do this, how your presence has the ability to sooth him, calm him.

“His name was Elliot,” You begin as you walk slowly towards the firehouse. “And he was an idiot…”

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