#but my gods I can’t stop seeing parallels

[ravencounsellor]

watching red white & royal blue and holy shit the glorestor vibes are off the charts

[exopelagic]

everyone was so harsh to alola it deserved so much better. like this region is so well designed and so pretty and the story is actually really fun? will never forgive everyone for what we did to her

[comicaurora]

OHHHHH MY GODDDD IM GOING INSANE OVER AURORA RN

Like both Kendal and Unnamed Paladin Guy/Michael both have a major choice to make, (whether or not to kill the people in the way of them accomplishing their goals), and they both have a god talking in their head. For Michael it’s the Light Dragon telling him to accomplish his (and her) end goal of putting a stop to VD’s plans, and for Kendal it’s Vash telling him that doing the stabbety stabbety is not one of the cards he’s willing to play.

And then they make opposite decisions!! Kendal is willingly putting down the sword, at the possible cost of his friend’s lives, while Michael is about to blow these innocents to smithereens to stop VD!! It’s definitely not the best situation for these guys, but it’s in character! Of course Michael’s gonna sacrifice a few innocent lives for his end goal, because in his mind it’s worth it. But Kendal can’t bring himself to willingly end ONE life because, to him, it’s not worth it at all!

The PARALLELS in this page oh my GOD. Both of them are listening to their own respective deity, almost like an inner-conscince sort of deal, but they’re also making completely opposite decisions with wildly different stakes. Whatever internal struggle Michael’s having, it can’t possibly be as hard as it is for Kendal, who, at this point, has had no friends other than these. It must be so hard for him to make that decision NOT to skewer Michael! But for Michael this is just the atomic-bomb solution, no matter how many innocents it kills, it’ll still solve the problem. They’re doing the opposite thing, but both of their decisions combined are gonna be a potential death sentence for the people below them. (Apologies if I speculated too close to the sun, I got excited lol)

Also VASH? HELLO??

I see why people are assuming that's Vash talking, but everything floating around Kendal's head is something he's himself said previously.

[pullupinarari]

Swear the only one I want is you [LH]

author's note: i'm back with a fluffy yet a bit angsty fic after this shitty weekend 🥲 thank you so much to the lovely follower that requested it, i hope you enjoy this!! mwah

• masterlist

wc: 6111 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated

You don’t know how it started, you just know that it’s a feeling that you’ve always known inside of you. Maybe it’s the way he smiles, the way his giggles seem to echo through your whole body, the lovely sounds reverberating inside of you. Or maybe it’s the way he looks at you, his eyes shimmering in a light that is capable of reaching the darkest corners of your being, the way his words sound so gentle to you, or maybe it’s the way he hugs you like you are made of crystal, trying to warm your body when you feel cold, trying to comfort you like the good friend that he is. But that’s all he is: your friend, and that will never change.

You’ve met Lewis nine years ago, through friends that you two had in common. And just like that, you two got along so well since day one, like it was something natural between you two. 

You couldn’t explain why you were always so nervous to see him again - hell, you didn’t even understand why you always had that suffocating feeling in your chest whenever you knew that you were going to be in the same place as him. But somehow, every time your eyes would meet, that feeling would fade, and it was like he was filling your lungs with air, bringing you back to life, to a reality where he would be the one lighting up your mood and your insides. 

Eventually, you started realizing: you were falling for him - hard, really hard. And no matter how hard you would try to stop it, it was pointless. Nothing could make your feelings go away, and everytime you would see Lewis, it was like your emotions would escalate, your feelings would find a new power to feed themselves off, to grow more and more inside of you. And they keep growing, to the point where it’s suffocating every time you see him with another girl, whether it’s somewhat of a more serious girlfriend or just a fling.

The sight of him with someone that’s not you was enough to make you nauseous, to make your heart feel tight in your chest - the way his hands would wrap around other girl’s waist, making you go to sleep thinking how she would have the experience of seeing him in his plenitude, either physically or just by being able to watch him fall asleep, to see him in such an intimate space. You would close your eyes, trying to forget about all that, but the beating in your chest is too loud, and it keeps you awake while your mind haunts you, picturing him with all those girls, all the time. 

You would often find yourself asking if you would ever get a chance. If in a parallel reality, maybe Lewis could love you back just as much as you love him. And even though it’s not fair, you would find yourself praying to God - praying that all those girls would break his heart in the nicest way possible. You know it’s selfish to say, but you are the one that’s always there for him, through the good and the bad, and consequently you are the one helping him go through all the break ups. So maybe, he just needs to have his heart broken a few more times until he realizes that you were the one that always stayed, the one that loved him through his highs and lows. If you’re right in front of him, why can’t he see you? 

Maybe he’s out of your league - you often think. Maybe he’s just one of those types of dreams that will only prevail in your mind, that will never come true. And after feeling your heart breaking so many times because of him, you slowly come to the realization that it might be time to pick up the pieces of your heart from the floor, glue them back together the best you can, and allow yourself to live your life - to actually feel, to love, to laugh, to share moments with someone else. 

And that’s when you decide to finally give Bryan chance - your co-worker that’s been begging you for a chance to take you out to dinner for months now. You definitely need to meet new people, to take your mind off of something that is never going to happen, so you finally agree to meet him for dinner. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling nervous to go on a date - your first one after so long, it’s like you already forgot how intimidating the thought of going out with a guy could sound. 

But Bryan greets you with a smile, one that’s so genuine that could make you feel warm and welcomed again. And through the night, the way he makes you laugh, makes you realize that you didn’t even know how much fun he is. The hours fly by, and nothing could prepare you for how much you would enjoy your evening with your co-worker - from dinner, to a walk to the nearest ice cream place that was still open, to the way he made you feel like a silly teen again, giggling while eating your desserts in the middle of a warm summer night. 

You realize that you two actually have a lot more in common than you thought, and he grows on you, piece by piece. He’s not that bad, after all, and maybe this is what you’ve been missing the whole time while you were pining over Lewis - someone that could make you feel light, that could make your belly hurt for laughing so hard, little tears decorating the corner of your eyes from smiling so widely the entire time. 

Bryan takes you home, and you can’t help but feel like it’s too soon to watch him leave already - craving more time by his side, enticed by the way he makes you feel special. 

“Do you want to come inside? I have a nice wine bottle yet to open” - you invite him, and you note the way his smile grows bigger at your words, feeding himself off the way you make his stomach swirl with butterflies as well. 

It’s crazy how you feel so comfortable talking to him, how you two sit on your kitchen stools, sipping on the red wine, looking into each other’s eyes so intensely. And time stopped for you: your mind travels back in time, reminding you that you weren’t allowing yourself to feel this way towards anyone else, being so focused on Lewis and Lewis only. To be fair, you and Lewis would turn into one as soon as the conversation between you two would start, flowing like crazy. 

But you can’t deny that you missed this feeling - the one that makes you know that Bryan is feeling exactly the same way as you, feeling the intensity of his eyes burning on your skin, making you blush. And your hand slides across the table, to touch his fingers slightly. 

“I had such a great night, thank you” - you tell him honestly, and your fingers slowly intertwine with his. 

The touch makes your bodies connect, like a string of electricity running between the two of you. His hand feels soft, gentle, and you can’t help but move your body closer, closing the space between the two of you. Your other hand is lazily moving up his arm, while neither of you breaks eye contact - you just want to stay in this moment forever, feel like this forever, feel your whole body moving on its own with anticipation. 

“I hope your heart is beating as fast as mine is” - he lets you know, opening up to let you know that this moment is something that he has dreamed about for a long time now. And here you are, right in front of him, melting your body with his with just mere touches, a thousand thoughts running through your mind while your eyes scan his features, landing on the shape of his lips. 

You’ve wasted enough time in your life waiting for someone who will never come, it’s time for you to live your life, to take risks, to fall in love with someone else. “He’s probably with some other girl now anyway” - you think, before connecting your lips with Bryan’s. 

The way your lips move together, how his hand grabs your face, and you’re quietly moaning into his mouth, makes you feel like you’re taking the right path into your new future, letting go of all the heartbreaks and disappointments, leaving them in the past.

One date turns into more, resulting in multiple afternoons, nights and weekends that you were craving to spend in the presence of one another - it was only a matter of time until you were kissing all the time, sharing promises of a future together, officializing your relationship now. A little more over a month after you and Bryan had officially started dating, you had your best friend’s birthday party - and could there be a better chance to introduce your boyfriend to your friends? 

You two looked adorable together, wearing matching outfits, looking disgustingly in love with each other. Your fingers were always interlocked, eyes glancing and sharing smiles while everyone could feel the warm vibrations emanating from your bodies. You were laughing with your boyfriend and your best friends, when Lewis showed up, alongside some more people.

Your body freezes for a moment, feeling cold all of the sudden when your eyes meet. Your smile drops, and you notice how Lewis checks you out attentively. He approaches your group slowly, analyzing the man beside you, his gaze following Bryan’s arm that’s wrapped around your waist, only to notice how you’re leaning your back against his chest lightly. Lewis gives you one final look, and you note that his facial expression is closed, as if he didn’t like what he just saw. He sighs softly before speaking up, greeting his friends with a smile - one that he had to force more than he would want to. 

When he gets to you, he only gives you a dry and flat “hi”, not even bothering giving you a hug or a kiss on the cheek as you two used to do before. Your heart sinks slightly - as much as you hate to admit it, you were waiting for that source of contact with him, and he just distanced his body from yours, like he doesn’t even know you. 

“Oh, Lewis! This is Bryan, Y/N’s boyfriend!” - your best friend tells him, noticing how you didn’t introduce them. 

You don’t know why, but those words made his eyes darken, and he ended up not even acknowledging your boyfriend. Instead, he just looked you dead in the eyes once again, while slowly nodding his head at what your friend told him. 

For the rest of the night, Lewis vanished from your sight as if he was smoke. Even being by your boyfriend’s side, you couldn’t help but look around, trying to find him, only to no avail. He was nowhere to be seen near you. 

On the opposite side of the party, Lewis left his group of friends after he saw you. He needed some time alone, he needed to organize his mind, his chaotic thoughts sounding loud in his head. He can’t explain how badly his blood started boiling once he saw the way another dude was touching you - like you were his, like you belonged to him. 

He keeps sipping on his drink, leaning on a corner where silence and darkness fill the room, away from the loud music playing. 

Lewis is feeling confused. Deep down, he knows damn well what’s going on, he just doesn't want to admit it. He was used to you being available, to always pick up his calls, no matter the time. He was used to turning to you whenever things would get shaky or complicated, and you would always be there for him.

But lately, you weren’t picking up his calls as much, you stopped showing up to dinner with your friends, and Lewis missed having you sat beside him the entire night. He misses talking to you for hours, he misses the warmth that you had, the power to make it creep through his entire body. And now he knows the reason why you stopped showing up, and it’s like you’re making him taste his own venom. 

These feelings have been drowning in his chest for years now, and he knows it. He knows that the only reason why he keeps insisting on having stupid flings is because he doesn’t want to admit how badly he fell for you over the years. You are way too good for him, you are way more responsible, thoughtful - you are kind to everybody around you and that’s the thing that made Lewis fall for you in the first place. But maybe it’s time for him to admit that no matter what he might tell himself, none of those girls are as good as you. It’s time for him to own his emotions, to accept that his heart already belongs to you, and it has for a while now.

But he doesn’t know how you feel about him. Sure, he can feel the intensity that lingers between the two of you whenever you are together, the way your eyes speak for themselves, the way you could just sit in a comfortable silence next to each other and you would still have a great time together. But still, he was always afraid to take the next step, to make a move towards you. He could have all the confidence in the world when it comes to every other girl, but not with you. You are the one that makes him weak at the knees. 

He knows he is not that good at hiding the way his smile grows bigger whenever he looks at you, the blushing in his cheeks when he sees your name appearing on his phone, and even though his friends try to encourage him to confess his feelings to you, he swore to himself that he would never ruin your friendship like this. 

Bryan kept chatting with some of your friends while you decide to let go of his grip, needing some time for yourself. You’ve felt weird ever since Lewis’ eyes landed on you. It was like all your old feelings just came back to the surface of your skin. You look at yourself through the bathroom mirror while your hands splatter some water on your neck and chest, helping you calm down for a bit. It’s crazy how your body feels so hot while your insides feel so cold, confused with your own person now. 

You walk over to the bar, in need of a drink that can either help you clear your mind or forget about your feelings. You take a seat while you order, and a few seconds later, you feel the intensity of someone approaching you. 

“Care to explain how that dumb ass pulled you?” - his voice startles you, turning your head to look at him. There he is, sitting right by your side - maybe he was looking for you as well, waiting for an opportunity to find you by yourself, without Bryan glued to your hip. 

You sigh loud enough for him to hear. “Excuse me?” - you ask, giving him a cold look in return, while his gaze lands as intense as always on you. 

He chuckles, like he’s genuinely amused by what he saw, and by your reactions now. 

“Come on, Y/N. You can do so much better, and you settle for someone so bland?” - Lewis laughs to himself as he takes a sip of his drink, analyzing your movements. 

He knows you well, and that’s something that you shouldn’t forget. Your fingers are fidgeting, your breathing feels heavy in your chest, making it raise more than it should. You are clawing at your own cup, your mind is racing to find an answer to give him, as you avoid looking at Lewis the entire time now. 

“For your information, he’s very nice. Bryan actually cares about me, makes me feel loved, makes me laugh. I would be dumb not to give him a chance. But why are you so concerned about who I date? Shouldn’t you be worrying about your flings and all the girls that line up to have a chance with you?” - you spat in his face, your words coming out bitter and annoyed, but the smirk in his lips never fades. It’s like he’s enjoying making you upset, ruining your mood and your night even more than he already has. 

You can feel the jealousy inside of you boiling up and starting to show now, so you leave your seat at the bar, turning your back to him as you walk outside, looking for a quiet place where you can take some deep breaths. 

Lewis follows your steps, right behind you as his voice guides you absently. “I’m just saying… Does he make you feel that good? Because I know for a fact that you could do a lot better, and you know that too. There’s guys out there that would do everything to be lucky enough to have you” - he says as you stop walking, leaning your body against the balcony railing that you had just found.

You sigh again, rubbing your temples as the summer breeze moves some of your hair out of your face, and Lewis can’t help but admire your features, illuminated by the moonlight now. You can’t control the ironic laugh that leaves your mouth at his words. 

“Who?” - you ask. “Who, Lewis? Who would do everything for me, to have me, to take care of me? Because last time I checked I’ve spent the last few months, even years, of my life alone, earning one heartbreak after another” - the rage in your veins speaks louder, but you manage to quiet it down, before you say something that you might regret. 

Lewis stays silent for a second, trying to make a decision. He can either confess his feelings for you - and you can requite his love, or never face him ever again. Or he can shut up and watch you walk through the door, with the possibility of you never wanting to see him again after his comments. 

He takes a deep breath, staring at the floor while he tries to gather the courage to speak up. “I would” - the words leave his mouth slowly, sounding soft but scared at the same time. He looks you in the eyes now, trying to find an answer in them, searching for a glimpse of some emotion, something that makes him feel a bit less insecure than he does right now. 

Your eyebrows furrow slightly, trying to make up the meaning behind his words. Your brain struggles to process what he’s trying to say - so it’s easier to sabotage yourself and let your anger show once again. You shake your head and close your eyes, almost forcing yourself to deny what you just heard. 

“Why are you such a dick, Lewis?!” - you ask him bluntly, seeing how he's taken aback by your words. “Why do you keep messing with my head?!” - you insist, sensing how some tears are threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“Because I love you!” - he interrupts you, his tone rising without him even realizing. But he realizes that he needs to do this. He needs to finally confess his feelings to you, he needs to try and win your heart or at least just let you know how he feels, before he ends up drowning in his own emotions.

“I have loved you ever since the first time my eyes landed on yours. Ever since that first night after we all had dinner together at your friend’s house and we stayed up talking for hours, not even realizing that the time was passing by. Ever since that time I knocked on your door in the middle of the night because I was going through one of the most difficult times of my life, and you opened the door and let me in. And you listened to me. You saw me crying, lying on your sofa and you still helped me, you let me stay the night, you didn’t let me go home to stay by myself with my self-destructive mind. And ever since that day at the beach, when you were being dragged by a big wave and I ran into the water to get you out of there, and you held yourself to me, crying because you were so scared. I have loved you since I’ve known you, Y/N. And I tried to deny it for so long, but I can’t keep doing it anymore. Not when I see you wasting your time with someone that can’t love you like I can” - he breathes after feeling the heavy weight of his feelings lift off his shoulders. 

The tears that were lingering in your eyes are now sliding through your cheeks, staining your features while the moon is still reflecting its light on them. Your heart is beating so fast that you feel like it can escape out of your chest in a matter of seconds. The world around you feels blurry after hearing the person you have loved for years, declaring his love for you as well. But your boyfriend is somewhere in the middle of this party, and everything feels like it’s too much now, overwhelming you to a crazy level. 

You shake your head lightly before speaking. “I can’t do this right now, Lewis. I just can’t” - you let him know while you search for the nearest exit, wanting to go home as fast as possible. 

Tears keep escaping your eyes, and you don’t even bother telling Bryan that you’re leaving - he’s the last person you want to see now, to be honest. He didn’t even bother looking for you this entire time since you left his side, so he should be fine. 

When you step outside, you call a taxi to get you home. You can’t wait to open the door to your house, to feel safe in your refuge. But once you get there, your mind doesn’t stop. Every place your eyes land, reminds you of a memory, of moments that you’ve shared with Lewis in your house, during all these years. 

The sofa where you let him sleep when he didn’t want to be by himself, the balcony where you two would have a nice coffee during warm, sunny afternoons. The painting on the wall that he gifted you on your birthday. It’s like your house is an album, full of recollections of moments that you’ve spent together. 

And it just makes it so much more painful than it already is. You never thought Lewis could be as in love with you as you are with him. But you have Bryan now, and you don’t want to let him down after everything he has done for you so far. He takes such good care of you, and this definitely isn’t his fault - you just feel bad that he got caught in the middle of this, feeling like you are guilty for dragging him into this. 

Your sobs quiet down a bit, as you drag your feet to your room, burying your head on the pillow as you cry yourself to sleep, praying that your mind won’t make you dream about all this in your unconscious state. 

While you force yourself to sleep, Lewis is still leaning against the balcony where you left him. The wind is blowing stronger now, making goosebumps appear on his skin. Somehow, it’s like he doesn’t even feel it - he feels paralyzed, like he can’t feel anything at all. 

His eyes face the horizon while his brain fights him internally. He can’t help but close his fists, his own anger consuming him now. “You fucked it up, idiot”, “she left because you ruined everything. You fucking ruined it, Lewis” - he keeps beating himself up, feeling disappointed at the entire situation.

He took a shot at finally admitting his own feelings - to himself and to you at the same time. And you did nothing besides turning your back at him, leaving him hanging by a thread with the infinite creation of doubtful thoughts lingering in his brain. 

For Lewis, this party turned into a state of misery. The electric music echoing through the building doesn’t match the way he feels so cold, alone, abandoned while he holds his heart in his hands. 

He finishes his drink, deciding that it was time for him to head home as well. The way everyone is dancing and singing, sounding so happy, is just making him feel more sorry for himself, and the sense of pity gathering around his chest is enough to make it hard for him to breathe.

Lewis tries to think clearly about the whole situation. He understands your side, how things might seem so confused and complicated to you now - how the way he reacted didn’t help your case at all. But there’s still a string of hope guiding him on the inside, so he tries to be patient, to try and rest his mind for a couple of hours, so hopefully he can make things right again in the morning. 

You wake up feeling like shit. Your body feels sore from the lack of rest, your face has makeup smudged all over it, you can still see the stains that your tears left behind. The few hours of sleep that you had didn’t help at all - now you just feel empty, like your brain is actively choosing not to process everything that happened last night.

You check your phone - 13 missed calls from Bryan, alongside a bunch of texts that he sent you, that you won’t bother replying to right now. You notice how Lewis didn’t reach out to you, not a call, not a simple text, nothing - and you hate to admit it, but your heart breaks a little at the thought that maybe he wasn’t being serious yesterday, maybe he completely regrets what he told you.

You hop in the shower, using the hot water to comfort your aching body and your aching heart - maybe the steam might confuse your senses enough until you forget about all this. 

Meanwhile, Lewis is in his house, getting dressed and mentally getting ready to talk to you. He can’t deny that his body does feel shaky, he can’t stand the thought of you closing the door on his face or sending him away - that’s what his anxiety keeps telling him, the images that his mind keeps producing. 

But the love he feels for you is stronger than his negative thoughts. The will he has in his essence to make things right with you, the desire of hearing your sweet words again, of feeling your soft touch on his skin - he just wants to be close to you. And he is praying that you will feel the need to be next to him just as much.

You are leaving your shower when you hear someone knocking on your door gently. You can’t hold the sigh that escapes your mouth at the thought of it being Bryan, but you still open it.

Your eyes wide at the sight of Lewis standing at your door, and his gaze shines when you come into view. Your hair is all wet, you have your fluffy robe on - your favorite one, that makes you feel warm and comfortable when you are struggling with your own thoughts. He can’t help but smile to himself at how cute you look.

Your body freezes in place, and you wish you could take back the sigh that left your lips seconds before you opened the door. It’s not Bryan, your boyfriend that filled your phone with calls and messages - but it’s Lewis, the one that didn’t call, but actually showed up at your door, wanting to see you in person instead of reading a few words on his phone screen. And he’s the only one that you wanted to see as well. 

“Can I come in?” - he asks, cautious not to startle your silent self. You just nod your head, opening the door wider for him to come inside. 

He knows your house like it’s his own now. But still, he stands in the middle of the living room, waiting for you to sit down first and to give him permission to do the same. Lewis decides to take a seat right beside you, so he can look you in the eyes and see the truth in them.

Both of you stay silent for a minute, just looking at each other, analyzing each other's features, the way you can see yourselves through the reflections in the other's eyes.

“How are you feeling?” - Lewis asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but you hear him clearly due to the proximity of your faces. 

You smile softly at his words - almost ironically. You don’t know how you feel. It seems like you can’t put your messy, chaotic thoughts and feelings into words. So you just shrug at his question. “I don’t know, to be honest. I am so confused” - you reveal to him.

Lewis nods his head at your words, completely understanding your side, and realizing that he needs to be the one stepping up now. He takes a deep breath, clearing his throat before speaking up. 

“Listen, Y/N. I could barely get any sleep last night either, because I kept thinking about everything that happened, and I-” he cuts himself to try and breathe again, the anxiety running through his body taking the best of him.

“I need to let you know how sorry I am. For everything. And how much I regret everything that happened, everything that I’ve done. I was stupid and dumb. I’ll be completely honest with you, I’ve been feeling like this for a while now. I knew the exact moment when I realized that I was falling for you, I knew it all. And I wish I would’ve confessed my feelings to you sooner, because-” - your voice interrupts him now. 

“You knew all that, and you were still going out with other girls, having a bunch of flings and talking to me about all of them like it was nothing” - you point out, the hurt evident in your tone, making his heart sink a little deeper. 

He is the one sighing now - he knows that you are right. “Because I was stupid and a coward! I was so afraid to admit all those feelings even to myself, I thought that other girls could make me forget about the way you made me feel, but they didn’t. Because no matter what I would tell myself, they weren’t nearly as good as you. Fuck, Y/N, I was so scared. To lose your friendship and to see you walk away from my life for good, to ruin you. You are so much better than me, but I can’t keep drowning in this feeling, especially when seeing you with another dude absolutely kills me” - he is talking faster now, like he wants you to know every single thing, begging you to listen to what he has to say.

You watch him attentively, reading him between the lines. His eyes are a bit glossy now, his hands are shaking slightly - you know how hard it is for him to open up to someone. And how much courage he had to gather to knock on your door today and to show you his vulnerable self, only for you to know how honest his words are.

“I know you used to like me too, our friends aren’t good at keeping secrets. They opened my eyes last night after you left the party. They found me when I was leaving as well, the dumb fuck that let the girl of his dreams slip through his fingers, because he was so scared to admit that he was so madly in love with her. Your best friend then told me that you have been in love with me for years now too. I guess we are the blind ones that never really got it” - he smiles slightly at his words, feeling the bitterness at the possibility of having lost your love.

You nod your head, avoiding his eyes now. “It's true. I’ve been so in love with you for the past couple of years… that’s why I never got with another guy for so long. I guess I still had some hope that you would notice me someday, since I was always there, by your side. I thought my moment would come one day” - you say ironically, feeling stupid, ridiculous and tiny for saying that to him, for admitting this shitty feeling to his face. “But now I have Bryan, and I-” - Lewis doesn’t let you finish. 

“I know. Look, at the end of the day, I just want you to be happy - even if it means that you'll choose him over me. You know me, and I could never be selfish enough to ask you to choose me if that means your eyes won't shine as bright as I am used to. I know you date him now and if he's the one letting your sparkle show, go for it. If you feel like he's your person, the one you want to spend your life with, just forget about everything I said. It doesn’t matter how much I love you, and how badly I will always love you, but I'm not going to stop you. Just make sure that I die first, because I can't stand the thought of a future without it being by your side” - he admits, his hand reaching to immediately clean some tears that leave his eyes. 

Your tears match his now, letting them slide down your face while you look him in the eyes. “He sent me a bunch of texts, but he didn’t even bother showing up at my door. He doesn’t even know if I’m okay or not” - you shrug, realizing that Bryan isn’t your person, and he could never be. 

Lewis closes the gap between your bodies, reaching to grab a stand of hair that’s in your face, carefully moving it behind your ear. “At least I am man enough to do this” - he tells you while his hands touch your face, grabbing your features gently before pressing your lips together. The way your mouths move in perfect sync, his touch as smooth as silk, the fire between your bodies reigniting - and the crazy intensity that you two create, is enough to make you feel dizzy.

You don’t need to think about anything else, you have all the answers you need right here, right now. After a moment, you break the kiss, your lungs searching for air as you and Lewis share a passionate look, a relieved one after having the courage to do something both of you have been craving for so long. 

“Don’t make me regret this, Hamilton” - you tell him, before pulling him in for another kiss. 

“I am so crazy about you” - he tells you between pecks. “I would even walk a thousand miles just to feel your head on my chest. I am never ruining what we have, no one can make me feel like this” - he admits, flashing you a bright smile as he notices how you melt at his words, his touch, feeling like you’re in heaven now, living your deepest dream. 

“You promise?” - you ask him, pulling your pinky finger up. Lewis notices the humor in your voice now, aware that you are messing with him. 

“I promise” - his finger interlocks with yours. “I swear, the only one I want is you” - he kisses the top of your head as you lay on his chest, feeling your body finally relaxing after hours of distress.

“I guess I have a heart to break, now” - you say, remembering about Bryan and how he needs to know the truth. 

“As long as it’s not mine” - Lewis jokes, holding your body closer to his, sighing contently as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, his eyes fixed on the view of the city coming from the window in front of him, already dreaming of a future next to you - a ‘forever’ type of future that he could never regret.

[percivaljacksons]

those little town blues (pt 1)

the modern percabeth ghost whisperer au. girl, at this point you have to trust me. first 5k or so as i edit the big mama doc for ao3. sorry not sorry to tease! i'd give this section a t rating

“For someone who just moved here, you really know your way around,” Piper says. “I absolutely thought you were taking us to the wrong platform.” 

Two descending notes play through the speaker above their heads. The Q train’s doors slide closed. The breaks release in a puffy exhale and the car lurches as they begin to move out of the Canal St station. 

Annabeth shrugs. “I like research,” she says. “Figured if I was going to do the whole ‘move to New York as a broke twenty-something,’ I might as well be prepared for it.”

“What a load of baloney,” Percy says from somewhere behind her. “You were walking right for the Downtown platform, too. You could say ‘thank you,’ by the way.”

Piper doesn’t react—of course she doesn’t. She just tells Annabeth with a sheepish smile, “more than I did. God, this is so embarrassing, but I really did Uber everywhere for my first few weeks.”

“Asshole,” Percy cuts in again. “I can’t stand people who do that.”

Annabeth kicks one foot back as subtly as possible. She doesn’t feel it connect with his shin, but he does quiet down.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” Annabeth reassures her. “Silena said you moved here—what, two months before me?”

“Something like that.”

“Plus, I did a lot of exploring in the past few weeks and got turned around a lot of times. You’re seeing a well made facade.”

“Is that how you found that Wo Hop?” Piper asks. “God, I can’t get over that tofu. And it was in some random basement!”

While Piper waxes poetic about their lunch, Annabeth’s eyes slide to the left. It’s not an overly crowded subway car. There’s a couple pouring over the map on the wall, a short man reading a book in the seat parallel to the window, and around a dozen solo commuters buried in phones or listening to music. 

But to Annabeth’s left, leaning against the door, is a man with short cropped hair and an angular jaw. His button up shirt is untucked, wrinkled, and saturated with blood. She has to breathe through her mouth because she can smell it wafting off of him. From the corner of her eye, she can spot the elderly woman trying to read over the shoulder of the man by the window, ranting a rant he can’t hear. And, of course, right behind her is Percy, dripping wet. 

“I really hope you’re not about to take credit for finding Wo Hop on your own,” he says. 

“...in an article, right?” Piper asks, forcing Annabeth to tune back in again.

“Yeah, about the James Beard Foundation Awards,” Annabeth says. “It’s officially an American Classic.”

“Fucking typical,” Percy says. “I’m not telling you where that halal cart is now.”

“So cool,” Piper enthuses. “I didn’t even realize how much food there was out there that I’ve never even tried, you know? This city is crazy.”

“Best city in the world,” Percy and Annabeth say in perfect unison. 

Of course, only Annabeth and Percy know that. 

//

It started on her third day in New York, because Annabeth has, in general, always had completely shit luck. With a week until her new job began and her boxes (almost) unpacked, she woke up to a sliver of perfect blue sky visible between the brick walls outside her window and decided to spend the day exploring. 

While she waited for the shower to heat up, she drank a glass of water—straight from the tap—and looked around her joke of a studio apartment. Despite the near negative space she now called her own for the next twelve months, her singular closet was pitifully half empty. 

Annabeth frowned into her water. Half full? She’d never had many clothes, was the point. The t-shirts and jeans she’d favored in high school had stopped fitting once she started doing track and field more seriously, and her college dorm room hadn’t offered an abundance of space, either. 

She wandered back to the bathroom and stuck a hand under the tap. Only lukewarm. The previous two days' experience told her she had another minute before it would get hot, so she took out her phone and googled thrift stores nyc. 

The results were almost too many to believe. She shook her head. 

“Best city in the world,” she said to herself, and finally stripped down to step into the shower. 

In the end, she chose a thrift store in lower Manhattan, a little to the east so it was on the yellow line and she wouldn’t have to transfer trains. It was close to Washington Square Park, too, so she could check that off her architecture bucket list. Just like that, she had a plan for the day—and Annabeth loved having a plan.

She flew down the four flights of stairs, keeping her eyes on her feet so she wouldn’t get drawn into whatever was going on with the man who always lingered on the second floor landing. He left something in his jacket pocket, but Annabeth had never stuck around long enough to hear what it was or who he needed to tell. She’d get around to it eventually. Probably.

After riding the N train two stops in the wrong direction, she managed to get on a Manhattan and Brooklyn bound W. It was all part of the learning curve. The car was near empty, so close to the origin in Astoria, so she found a seat by the window and watched as the lower buildings of northwest Queens morphed into the skyscrapers of Long Island City before the train finally went underground. She pulled a book out of her tote bag before long and focused her gaze on the paper, even though the letters were swirling around the page so aggressively that she couldn’t read a word. 

Her dyslexia always got worse when she was stressed. She turned a page in her book, a perfect pantomime of reading, so that the three ghosts standing within fifteen feet of her don’t realize that she can both see and hear them. 

Spirits, earthbound souls, whatever. They were all ghosts, really, haunting people or places or things. She thought maybe they were haunting this specific subway car, except a man in a navy suit got off at 59th street and one of them—the woman in bright red lipstick and a mink coat—followed him off. 

Annabeth kept looking at her book, flipping forward a page every minute or so. She had long ago perfected the half-glazed over expression that tricked most ghosts into thinking she was just like everyone else—unable to see them. It was a small part of the reason she’d decided to move to New York: everyone here had that expression on. Everyone here avoided eye contact on the sidewalk and went about their business, so maybe—just maybe—Annabeth wouldn’t acquire her usual ‘rude and standoffish’ reputation. 

One of the ghosts sat down next to her. He was mumbling in a language she didn't recognize. Hungarian, maybe—a relief. She wouldn’t have to try so hard to not react if he said something appalling. 

Annabeth turned to the next page in her book. She didn’t even remember what it was about. The stops got more frequent in Manhattan, crawling at times only five blocks between stations after Times Square, before the W finally pulled into 8th Street-NYU. 

Annabeth put her book back into her tote and stood, edging around the ghost’s legs with a mumbled, “excuse me.”

She realized her mistake two steps later, when the voice got panicked and excited, rapid-fire consonant heavy speech trying to get her attention again. Annabeth kept her head down and walked towards the closest exit like she knew it would take her where she wanted. It worked, either because he thought it was a fluke or he was tied enough to that train car to stay put, and when she walked up into the autumn sunlight she was once again alone. 

Not unhaunted. She was never really unhaunted, but she could be—however briefly—alone. 

Maps told her that the Buffalo Exchange was close, only a few blocks south. She made her way there, realized she was on the wrong side of the street, and blatantly jaywalked to get to her destination. One thing she certainly would not miss about California was driving and cars and mechanics. She hoped Clarisse would love the hunk of bolts Annabeth couldn’t have more joyously parted with.

The thrift store wasn’t too crowded inside, because it was around 11 on a Tuesday, so Annabeth took her time. She started in the back, sifting through women’s cut jeans and giving up quickly, moving to the men’s section in the front where the inseams were longer. She found a few potential successes, all dark wash enough that she could probably dress them up for work, and made her way towards one of the circular clothing racks in the middle of the shop. 

Annabeth hadn’t lived on the east coast since she was twelve, but she remembered the cold bite of the winters. She didn’t have nearly enough sweaters to get her through January and February, only a few short months away. A few hoodies with stains and holes got flipped past, but eventually she came across a maroon crewneck with a faded lettering that said MONTAUK. She threw it on over her shirt and managed to catch her reflection in a nearby mirror—exactly the kind of baggy she’s always preferred. Perfect. 

“That’s mine,” someone said.

Annabeth looked over and gasped. Standing next to her, soaked from head to foot, was a guy about her age. He was a bit taller, with dark hair plastered to his head and green eyes so bright they forced the air out of Annabeth’s lungs. Every inch of him was dripping water in the middle of the perfectly dry Buffalo Exchange.

“You can see me,” he realized, eyes getting wider. “You can actually—holy fuck.” 

She bought the sweater, in the end, because she stopped letting ghosts decide what she was and wasn’t going to do a long time ago. Percy—I’m Percy, by the way, can you still see me?— didn’t seem to mind, even as she ignored him and checked out with her new pants and sweater. 

“I know you can hear me,” Percy said, following her out the door. “You’re not a very good actor, you know.”

Annabeth pulled out her headphones and slipped them on. She fiddled with her phone, miming a call, and finally turned to face the very wet ghost beside her. 

“Percy, you said?” She asked. 

He grinned. “Yes! Yeah, I’m Percy. I can’t believe you can hear me. It’s, like, so great to talk to someone.”

“I’m Annabeth.” She didn’t reach out to shake his hand, because they wouldn’t be able to anyway. “I’m going to the park. Want to come?”

They walked the two blocks to the north side of the park, until Annabeth stood directly under Stanford White’s famous arch. She knew it already, of course—the Tuckahoe marble used to construct it, the fact that it commemorated the centennial of George Washington’s presidential address in 1789—but Annabeth’s favorite thing about architecture isn’t facts or materials. It’s the way she feels looking at it; it’s something about the innate nature of human beings and the way they just can’t help their desire to create.

She could see Percy out of the corner of her eye, watching her. As she stood there, her gaze still fixed upward, someone in a purple t-shirt walked right through him.

“Okay,” she finally said. “What’s your deal? Normally I’ve gotten a whole life story by now.”

“Normally,” he repeated. “This happen to you a lot?”

“Look, do you see a white light?” Annabeth asked, already losing her patience. 

“A what?”

“God, I can really pick ‘em,” Annabeth muttered to herself. “A white light. Bright, blinding even. Maybe a loved one standing there waiting for you? Walk into it.”

“I—what?” 

“Unless there’s something you’ve left unfinished?” Annabeth prompted. It usually went smoother if the ghost came to terms on their own, but this whole conversation was messing with Annabeth’s plan for the day. She wanted it over and done with.

“What are you talking about?” Percy asked, his accent hitting harder than it had before. His ah vowel was like an A and U and W smushed together. “Why are you the only one who can see me?”

Annabeth closed her eyes. “Fuck,” she said. “Seriously? This is just my luck.” She turned back to Percy, kind of vaguely relishing how no one around them seemed to care that she was talking to thin air. “You’re dead.”

Percy blinked at her. A drop of water made its way down the arch of his nose. “What?”

“I can see ghosts. Spirits. People who haven’t yet moved on.” She let that sink in for a moment, then added, “like you.”

“Moved on to what?” He asked, his voice getting louder with pure panic. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said. “I’m not dead. I just have the pleasure of seeing all of you on your journey in between.”

“Fuck. What the fuck?” Percy started to pace, his hands on his head. “I can’t be dead! That’s such bullshit. I’ve never even left the tri-state area! And I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, lady—”

“Annabeth.”

“—Annabeth, because there ain’t no fuckin’ light, alright? There’s just this stupid park and a bunch of asshole NYU students walking right through me, and apparently, the only person who can see me is a goddamn Yankees fan, which is fucking rich. And!” He turned back to her, an almost triumphant expression on his face. “And I bet you you’re not from here, am I right? No shot.”

“I’m from…” Annabeth trailed off. She could’ve said Virginia, or the Bay Area, or something else. In the end, she just confirmed his suspicion. “I’m not from here, you’re right. This is my third day in New York.”

That made him laugh uproariously, too dramatic to be earnest, his hands flung out to the sides. “Of course! A fucking transplant in a Yankees hat. I can hardly believe my luck.”

With him standing facing her once more, Annabeth finally saw the logo made dark by his wet t-shirt. A baseball with dark blue skyline and orange piping, Mets written out across the front. 

“Are you done?” Annabeth asked. “I want to go see the narrowest house in the city next.”

“I’m not a tour guide,” he seethed.

“Which way is Bedford Street?”

He pointed behind him. “Like, six blocks that way.”

And so Annabeth’s first friend in the big city was a chronically damp, kind of asshole ghost named Percy.

//

“Silena said Piper liked you,” Clarisse says. They’re playing Battleship online as they FaceTime, both unwilling to admit that they want to talk for the sake of talking, and certainly unwilling to admit they might miss each other. 

It’s one thing to move across the country to an apartment you’ve never actually seen for the sake of a life you think you might like, and another to do it knowing you’ll leave behind the two best friends you’ve made in your entire twenty-two years on Earth. 

That are still alive, at least.

“She was cool,” Annabeth says. “So different from Silena, though. We got greasy Chinese food.”

Clarisse snorts. “Uh, yeah. Duh. Get sunk, by the way.” Her missile lands in open water. “Seriously? What the hell.”

“Be better,” Annabeth replies, confidently clicking on G3. Sure enough, a tiny explosion graphic goes off on G3. 

“What the—is there someone behind me giving you clues? I know that’s how you kept winning poker night in junior year—”

“I can’t see ghosts through FaceTime, that would be ridiculous,” Annabeth scoffs. 

“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Clarisse scowls. “Sure.” One of her shots finally connects, but Annabeth’s still smiling, two ships in the lead. 

“Did I tell you I’ve got a new one?” Annabeth asks, pulling her fidget cube out from its drawer and flicking one side of it. 

“A Casper? No.”

“His name’s Percy. He’s wet.”

“Is that some kind of horrible New York slang?”

“What?” Annabeth laughs. “No, he’s actually wet. Like, dripping water.”

“That’s new.”

“Plus, he had no idea he was dead. Bizarre.”

Clarisse frowns. Clarisse always looks like she’s frowning, so it’s really hard to tell when she actually is, but at this point Annabeth’s had years of practice. “That’s happened before,” she says.

Annabeth gets a flash of sun-bleached blond hair and that awful scar in her mind’s eye before she manages to shove it back into the box in the corner of her mind. “S’not common, though,” she says. “Usually means the death was traumatic.” 

“Not to play Silena,” Clarisse says slowly, finally managing to figure out which way Annabeth’s submarine is pointing, “but should you be doing this?”

“Talking to you?” Annabeth snarks. Her next shot misses. 

“Getting wrapped up in helping a ghost your first few weeks in New York. Isn’t that why you left California? Oh, get fucked, I knew that was your battleship.” 

Annabeth shuts that right down. “I left because I got a job. I knew New York would have a lot of earthbound spirits; that was kind of a given, it’s huge. And yeah, I did say I was going to try and focus on me a little more, but…I don’t know, there’s something about him.”

Clarisse looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that. “He’s…nice?” She asks.

Annabeth laughs. “Uh, no. I’m not sure I would be if I just found out I was dead, so.” She shrugs. “I won’t be able to help him cross over until he starts to remember more, anyway. Googling ‘Percy NYC’ got me a dollar pizza place in the West Village and some place called Percy’s Tavern that isn’t even open anymore.”

“Silena’s going to be so pissed that all we talked about on our call is your new familiar.”

Annabeth sinks Clarisse’s final ship. “No, she’s not.”

Clarisse raises her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Annabeth smirks. “Because you get to tell her that the new ghost is, like, seriously hot.”

Clarisse just shakes her head, grinning. “She is going to love that. Damn. Well, good luck. I’ll call whenever my ego can handle a rematch.”

“Okay,” Annabeth says softly. “Bye.”

“Love you. No homo.” 

Before Annabeth can reply, she gets hung up on.

“Typical,” she says to her empty studio apartment. No one, alive or dead, replies.

//

“Alright,” Annabeth says as she steps out of her office building, her headphones on. “Where am I getting lunch?”

“I’m not telling you,” Percy sulks. “You just abuse my knowledge. I spent a lifetime accumulating this stuff, only to give it away to some yuppie. Barf.”

Annabeth picks a direction and starts walking. “I read that Ess-a-Bagel is good,” she says, already knowing what will happen next with only a week and a half of experience.

“Overrated,” Percy says. He can’t seem to help himself. “Like, it’s good, but they only put the seeds n’ shit on one side. Shmear options are okay,” he adds a little begrudgingly.

“Like, cream cheese?”

“Like, cream cheese?” Percy mocks, his voice high-pitched and whiny. “If you ask for them to scoop out your bagel, I’m actually going to start haunting you.”

“As opposed to what this is,” Annabeth murmurs to herself, well aware that he can hear her. 

“Hey! I’m, like, super chill. I haven’t even tried to get your lights to flicker.”

“You’ve never even appeared in my apartment,” Annabeth acquiesces. “Or at work.”

He shrugs, falling into step beside her. “Seems rude.” 

Annabeth almost stops in the middle of the sidewalk, she’s so surprised. “Okay, that’s a first.”

“Are the people you see always rude?”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s more like…it’s all on their terms. No one’s ever been that concerned about appearing in the middle of my calc final, for example.”

“Yikes.”

“Exactly.” Despite having the light, she looks both ways before joining the crowd in crossing 6th. One of the idling cars honks at her.

Percy flips the car off. It doesn’t make a difference to anyone but her, but she appreciates it. “If you want to spend too much money on a bagel, I’m not going to stop you,” he tells her. 

Annabeth walks into Herald Square; she’d rather go through a tiny park than down the crowded sidewalk. “Where would you go for a bagel?”

“Absolute Bagels. 108 and Broadway.”

She snorts out a laugh. “You knew that answer way too quickly.”

“I’m tired of these bougie, overpriced bagels! Absolute is good enough I drag my ass to the west side—that’s how you know it’s legit.”

“So you’re from the east side,” Annabeth follows, nodding. “Okay, that’s something. Remember anything more specific?”

“Yeah.” Percy grins proudly, pushing his wet bangs out of his face. “El Barrio, baby! Proud of it. Just off 2nd and…” His grin fades. “Shit. Goddamn it.”

“It’s okay,” Annabeth soothes. “That’s something. I’m assuming that’s…a Hispanic neighborhood?”

“Spanish Harlem,” he says. “East side, north of, like, 96.” He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “These days, north of 110.”

They’re already on the other side of Herald Square; Percy picks up into a jog. Annabeth follows suit, only realizing that he’s trying to catch the light before it changes a few seconds later. They make it to the other side and slow back to a walk. 

“If you want,” Annabeth offers, “I could go there. With you, I mean. We could walk around, maybe spark a memory.”

“You’d do that?” Percy asks, his voice almost severe in its sudden quiet volume. 

Annabeth shrugs. She pauses on the corner, barely a moment of hesitation, but Percy points diagonally to the side of the street she wants to be on. With a wince of thanks, she says, “I want to see more of the city. Might as well check off a good deed while I’m at it.” 

“Well, I can make it worth your while,” he says with a confident nod. “D’you like Italian food?” 

“Am I human?”

“Okay, so we’ll swing by Patsy’s, then. Oh, or Sam’s! And that bakery with the killer conchas—”

“I have no idea what that is, but I’m sold,” Annabeth says. “Why does Spanish Harlem have Italian food?”

He shrugs, sending tiny flicks of water flying. “Dunno. Better Italian food than Little Italy, though.”

“Haven’t seen it yet,” Annabeth says, pushing her way into the surprisingly large bagel shop and immediately struggling to focus. 

“It’s mostly gone, honestly. Hey, you good?”

“Hm?” Annabeth blinks away from the menu behind the counter. “Oh, yeah, it’s just loud in here. You weren’t kidding about the cream cheese.”

Percy doesn’t say much as they wait in line, or as she orders—toasted sesame bagel with olive cream cheese—but he sort of squints his eyes, like he’s sizing her up. 

“What?” She hisses out of the corner of her mouth as the cashier rings up her order. 

Percy shrugs, the movement of his shoulders just barely visible out of the corner of her eye. “Nothing.”

She raises as much of an eyebrow as she dares, smiling quickly at the cashier, tapping her credit card, and hoping to get back outside as quickly as possible.

“It’s clearly not nothing,” Annabeth says once they’re on their way again. The bagel is hot even through the paper bag it’d been stuffed in. 

Percy moves like he wants to grab the door for her, then awkwardly follows her as she jerks it open herself. “I just think you’re a sociopath for getting olive cream cheese.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Ever heard of not yucking someone else’s yum?”

“Nope. Where we headed?”

“I thought we’d sit in the park?” 

“The squirrels are going to maul you.”

“Well, you’ve never seen me fight before.” 

Privately, even as Percy laughs, she casts a few suspicious glances at lingering squirrels as they make their way into the park. Most are high in the trees or lingering around the trash cans. She picks a free table that’s far away from both, sits down, and kicks out the empty chair so that Percy can sit down, too.

“I feel like a food critic,” she says, unwrapping her lunch. She opens the bagel using two hands to get the visual, her stomach rumbling at the sight of cream cheese going a little runny from being sandwiched between two warm halves of bagel. “Except kind of like I’m cheating, you know? I haven’t had to look up any new things to try in two weeks.”

“You’re welcome,” Percy says. He rubs at one eye and flicks the water off his hand after. “But I feel like you should know that I’m not telling you everything.”

Annabeth gasps in mock offence. “But you’re so endeared by me.”

“Lie. I’m living vicariously through you.”

“By not telling me everything?” Annabeth asks cheekily, taking her first, relatively heavenly bite.

“You know what?” Percy says, clearly trying to sound pissed off but failing by laughing halfway through his sentence. He flicks some water at her, and Annabeth swears she can feel it land on her arm. 

“What’re these big secrets you’ve been keeping?” She asks. “It’s not like I’ve gotten food poisoning or anything.”

Percy sighs, still kind of smiling. “Well, then they wouldn’t be secrets, would they? Gotta keep some stuff for the locals.”

Annabeth pouts. Percy rolls his eyes.

“Fine, whatever.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing back across the street. “You didn’t have to wait on line in there.”

Annabeth chews slowly, trying to figure out what’s been lost in translation. “I…ordered in person?” She says. “I didn’t use, like, an app or something.” 

Percy looks just as confused. “Yeah, I was there. I’m saying you could’ve skipped the line.”

“No, you said I didn’t need to be online.”

“Yeah,” he repeats a little slower. “You didn’t have to wait on the line. Have you, like, stopped being able to hear me?”

“Who says wait on the line?” Annabeth asks incredulously. “You wait in a line, Percy.”

“Everybody says that! There’s an invisible line on the ground, and we all stand on it.”

Annabeth takes a bite without looking away from him, wondering how she ended up here. “I’ve literally never heard that before in my life,” she says through her mouthful. “Online is the internet. You wait in a line. I live in a city. I ride in a car.”

“You get on a bus. I ride on the subway. And I wait,” Percy says, leaning in, “on line.” 

“Maybe you’re not dead,” Annabeth theorizes. “Maybe you’re a demon raised from hell, come to torment me. Maybe you’re from an alternate universe!”

“This is what I get for revealing the schmear only express line at Ess-a-Bagel.” Percy shakes his head. “I should’a known.”

“What?” Annabeth asks. “I didn’t have to wait in that stupid fucking line?”

Percy throws his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

“Tell me that before next time. You had to wait in the line, too.”

He shrugs. “Not so bad. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

It sends her into a little bit of a tailspin. Sure, he’s actively dripping water on an otherwise dry and sunny day, but he’s around her age and died relatively recently, if the in-style cut of his jeans is anything to go by. He’s easy to talk to. It’s easy to forget he’s dead.

Annabeth takes another bite of her bagel. It’s a little strange that the sesame seeds are only on one side, but it’s just the right amount of chewy and pretty big for what she paid. The olive cream cheese is more of a disappointment, but she’s not going to tell Percy that.

“This is really good,” she says. “Your place is better? Or are you going to gatekeep that now?”

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like Absolute is a big secret, they’ve got a crazy line all weekend.”

“Good to know.”

“I don’t fuck around when it comes to bagels, Annabeth. Honestly, have any of my food recommendations let you down?”

“No,” she agrees. “Why do you think you remember all of that so well?”

He shrugs, his eyes sliding to the side. Annabeth doesn’t think he’s particularly interested in the squirrel eating a cigarette butt, so he probably just wants to avoid looking at her. It strikes her somewhere beneath her ribs, how sad it is, to wander around your home with only the innocuous pieces left.

Not for the first time, she wonders what will happen when she dies. Will someone see her? Will she even know that she’s dead? Will she be here, or in San Francisco, or on Berkeley’s campus, or back in Richmond? Has she ever known a place her soul would cling to?

“What’s your favorite thing about New York?” Annabeth asks, deciding suddenly to change tactics. “Since you keep insisting us transplants don’t know—”

“—know shit about shit,” Percy finishes. He looks back at her. “Uh, it’s the best city in the world.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “I know that. That’s why I moved here. You could argue that means I love it more than you.”

“Shut up,” Percy says, his face screwed up with indignation. “No, it doesn’t!”

“Great comeback,” she drawls. 

“Okay, I love the people,” Percy answers. “I love New Yorkers, and the way we treat each other.”

“Like?” Annabeth prompts him.

“We leave each other alone, but if I’m short a dollar on groceries there’s almost always someone who’ll cover me. And I just…I love walking places, and the subway, and I love it when I hop the turnstyle so smooth you can’t even tell I jumped it. I love the old guys who play chess in the park. The graffiti. I love riding the bus at night and Biggie, and shitting on Jersey and the goddamn Mets. I love not giving a fuck, I guess.” 

“Well, that’s things you love, but what’s your favorite?” Annabeth pushes. “Mine is easy, it’s the—”

“—the architecture, I know,” Percy finishes again. “I like that, too. I…well, maybe it’s the food. The food here is the best.”

Percy has admitted to never going anywhere else, so Annabeth doesn’t really know how he knows it’s the best, but she doesn’t call him on it. 

“But my favorite…” Percy goes a little still, like he’s remembered something. “My favorite thing when I was a kid is gone now,” he says. 

“Yeah?” Annabeth prompts

“Yeah. It was on the west side, if you can believe it. When you got off an uptown 1 at 79th, if you went up the staircase that took you to the northwest corner—there used to be a Circuit City there, next to the DSW.”

“There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Annabeth mutters.

“Yeah, it closed ages ago, but it was in this little, two story building. And it meant, when you were going up the stairs, if you looked up all you could see was the sky. Like the sky was the ocean and you got to go down the ladder and jump into it.” He goes quiet for a moment. Then, “now there’s an ugly fucking apartment building.”

Annabeth resists the urge to scoff. “You think any new building is ugly.”

“That’s not true! I like the Jenga building downtown.”

“The Jenga…” Annabeth thinks. “You mean 56 Leonard?”

“Is 56 Leonard the building that looks like a wonky Jenga tower?”

“I—” She sighs. “Yes. But it’s a Herzog & de Meuron.”

“You’re a hotdog and demure one.”

“You’re not that funny.”

He shrugs. “I dunno, you’re smiling.”

You’re flirting, Annabeth realizes. You’re flirting with a ghost, and he’s flirting back. 

“I can show you the ugly building some time,” he offers, blinking some water out of his eyelashes. “It’s right by the Natural History Museum. You like museums, right?”

“My second favorite thing about New York,” Annabeth confirms, and just manages to stop herself from saying it’s a date. 

//

Her dad texts her on a Saturday morning, the first time he’s reached out since she moved to the east coast, and his message reads [ Hi, Annabeth. I hope you’re settling in well at your new job. How is New York? Let me know when you might be free to talk.]

She doesn’t respond for three days. What’s there to say? She wishes she could explain to him that you can walk south on the east side of Broadway, from Grand to Howard, and you can look up and see the top of One World Trade peak through the buildings. You can look down so you won’t trip over the subway grate, and when you look back up again 56 Leonard has taken its place. 

She could tell him that if you walk past the entrance to the NQWR to the corner of Canal, you can see all of Herzog & de Meuron’s creativity, bottom to top, and you can decide that from then on out you’ll be calling it the Jenga Tower. She could type it out, or even try and call and inevitably tell him in a voicemail, but he wouldn’t get it. He’d probably say something ridiculous, like ask what Jenga was, or tell her about an exhibit that has something to do with planes that’s soon to arrive in the tri-state area, and Annabeth would remember why she hadn’t reached out either.

Instead, she tells him about work, and doesn’t talk about buildings or bagel shops or the bitter and charming conundrum of a ghost that’s taken to appearing at her shoulder as she makes a city her father hates her home. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 10

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Loki entwines your life like the snake he is. You stare at the steaming cup of tea as you listen to him in the kitchen. You don’t really trust him not to ruin anything else but you’re powerless to stop him. Every move has another pang plucking in your stomach.  

God! You can’t believe it. Three days. With him? And you’re married? Right, none of this makes sense. He can’t be your husband. It’s impossible. 

You drag yourself up and clutch your stomach. There’s something else, a tingle as your thighs press together. A flash ripples behind your eyes and you hear him groaning, feeling him thrusting, his hot breath enshrines you. You blink and it’s gone. A moan drifts from your lips. 

You search your apartment and scowl. All this green... It’s not bad but it’s a bit much. None of you is left here. Aren’t marriages unions not invasions? 

No, you’re not married. He never even asked. You get up and suss out your phone on the side table. You pick it up as you keep an ear toward his constant stirring. You tap into the search bar and bring up City Hall. You have to call. Damn it. 

You tiptoe toward the bathroom and peek back as you ease the door shut. You tap the phone number and chew your thumb. You’re on hold for a while and after navigating through the directory, you finally get an answer. 

“Hi, er, wow,” you respond to the dull tone on the other end. “I don’t really know how to do this. Sorry, erm, I need to look up a marriage license?” 

“Do you have the registration number?” The woman asks. 

“No, but I can give you my name? My Social Security? Whatever you need.” 

“Social Security,” she sniffs into the speaker. She doesn’t seem very impressed. 

You recite the memorised number and wait as you hear the clacking of keys. She hums flatly. “Yep, right here...” she reads out your name, “and uh, Lachi—Loki Laufeyson.” 

Your heart drops. What? Your last hope that he’s as much a liar as ever evaporates. You stand stunned, starring into the drain. 

“Anything else I can do, ma’am?” She doesn’t sound genuinely helpful. 

“No,” you croak and hang up. You’ve wasted her time. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You lift your head and slowly let yourself look at your reflection. You shriek at Loki as he grins over you. 

“Oh god,” you spin to face him in the tight space, “do you have to do that?” 

“Well, I was concerned. I find my wife missing--” 

“Don’t say it. Stop. No. Wife? I can’t--” 

“It is the truth. Legal, as it were. Surely that lovely woman on the phone told you so,” he slithers. 

“Ugh, why? Why me?” 

“Oh, I know, how lucky you are,” he tickles along your sides and you nearly toss the phone. You stop him, latching onto one wrist as you push your cell against the other. 

“Haven’t you done enough?” 

“Hardly. Darling, we are on honeymoon, are we not? So let us taste the delicious nectar of our coming together--” 

“Honeymoon? Wow, it’s wonderful,” you look around. 

“Ah, yes, I do believe you mortals prefer to travel, so...” 

He untangles his arm from your grasp and snaps his finger. His figure is limned in ribbons of green and your insides twist as the world spins around you. Your feet leave the ground only to land heavier on something else.  

You blink and cry out. The sky is a vibrant violet and silver stars shine in a constellation all around. You crane to see the tapestry as your feet press on something rough. You look down and two golden sandals appear on your feet. The satin robe transforms into a gown with braiding that matches the shoes. 

Loki turns parallel to you and presses his hand to your lower back. “Beautiful, yes?” 

You peer around and open and close your mouth. You take inhale deeply. Several times. You know you’re nowhere on earth. 

“I can breathe...” you murmur. 

“As you know, I have my tricks,” he purrs. 

“Wh-where are we?” You ask shakily, the reality that you’re on an entirely different planet rattles in your skull. 

“Does it matter? We are together?” You look at him and he turns to meet your gaze, “why do you look upon me thus?” 

You shake your head. You can’t explain all the ways he makes you feel. Loathing, confusion, agitation, and a little fear. 

“It’s a lot,” you utter at last. 

“Yes, I’ve been told I can be much to handle.” 

You sigh and look up at the sky. It is pretty. Your eyes wander down to the rocky peaks along the far edge of the planet. It smells like... flowers and vanilla and cinnamon. You raise your nose to sniff it deeper. 

“What is that?” 

“I wouldn’t know. I smell sage and Asgardian oak. It won’t be the same as you.” 

“Huh?” You glance at him again. This time, he laughs. 

“Here, you can smell exactly what you like best. And the sky reflects the colours which you most love. To me, a sea of evergreen and sapphire, but now, a touch of the shade of your lips too. For you... well, what do you see?” 

Your heart flips. It can’t be true. 

“I’m not lying to you,” he affirms as if he can read your mind. Somehow, you believe him. 

“It’s purple. Lilac and plum and there’s silver stars.” 

“Lovely,” he wraps his arm around you. It’s strange. You don’t feel so... uneasy. Almost calm. “And you’ve not even seen our accommodation, my beautiful wife.” 

“Just... let me enjoy this. Just a little.” 

He hums but says nothing else. His fingers curl into your hips and his chest falls. You’re not happy but you’re not entirely unhappy. Not like it will make much difference. You’re in to deep. 

[helga-grinduil]

First reminder: MHA is written by a Japanese man for a Japanese audience, and if you can’t even for one second at least try to look at it from the perspective of Japanese cultural and spiritual beliefs instead of projecting your own western ones… good luck, I guess?

Second reminder: MHA is a meta story about the art of fiction, escapism, fantasy vs. reality, and theatre. It’s quite literally a three-act play about fantasy, reality, and the balance of both. It’s about a stage, and character masks, and actors, and the real world outside of the stage, and about fighting against the writer who is too lost in his own fantasy.

Third reminder: visual storytelling is a tool sometimes used to contradict the lines of the story, which invites readers to think about what is actually the truth here.

Fourth reminder: MHA is anti-darwinism and anti-biological essentialism.

Fifth reminder: Hero system was literally created to control quirked population in the post-apocalypse. It’s FOR quirks. Heroes exist to keep population’s quirk usage in check by being the only profession that allows you to use them, and strictly for ‘good’, while also showing off those quirks to keep population entertained and content with the lie that quirks are accepted, actually! (Aren’t heroes so cool and their quirks are so flashy? See, we like quirks! We accept and allow quirks! Only if you use them for the good of society, of course! You are still not allowed to use or express them if you’re not a hero though, sorry). So. No, you can’t be a ‘hero’ (job) without a quirk, having quirks is A REQUIREMENT for this job.

Sixth reminder: MHA is a sci-fi with fantasy elements. Some concepts in sci-fi aren’t meant to be 1:1 parallels to real life. Quirkless people aren’t a disability allegory, it’s an allegory for any minority in general. MHA is a story about a person from a minority becoming one of people in power and about what effect a person with the experience of being a part of minority can have on others in power, acting as the first falling domino that ends up completely rewriting the script of the story.

Seventh reminder: MHA is about one person’s small actions affecting the world like a chain reaction. One action affects another person, and that person also makes it’s own small action. Everyone performing their small actions together, those small actions eventually combining and creating big results. Concepts of karma and butterfly effect. That’s literally what the idea of OFA is about. Everyone thinking about everyone else even just a little, doing their parts, creating a web and changing the world little by little.

Eighth reminder: the themes, good lord, the themes. Remember the fucking themes, you dumbfucks. My god. One of those fucking themes is the real person vs. the mask, by the way. Which, by the way, circles back to the first reminder, since it’s all about the Japanese concept of honne and tatemae.

Ninth reminder: touch grass and stop projecting.

P.S. ‘Izuku doesn’t want to change the status quo’ - Izuku wanting to save Shigaraki is literally him going against the narrative of the story. Saving Shigaraki IS changing the status quo - it’s another (very big) falling domino that will have a huge effect on the world and the status quo as the result.

[twoa-plus]

it’s 2:00am and this is more of a character thing than a genuine theory but *claps hands for the drama* same coin theory. what if both of the stans are bill

or like. a parallel to him. like i said this isn’t a super serious theory i’m mostly just back on my character analysis bs lol

so i haven’t gotten to talk abt this much but i am a firm believer in that there is not a superior stan. from a personality perspective this is obviously entirely subjective, but i mean that there isn’t a superior one when it comes to their objective traits and how useful they are

ford is. ford. i don’t really have to say anything here he’s super smart can play the piano or whatever etc etc. however one thing that i will say that i think is important here is that i am like. 99% sure this man has a higher tolerance to The Horrors than other humans do. dude spent 30 years in that portal and came out pretty much the same level of crazy, and we all saw what happened to fiddleford. i know fidds saw bill take off his exoskeleton or whatever but u can’t convince me that ford traveled the multiverse - with all sorts of monsters and non-3d dimensions and god knows what else - for 3 decades and didn’t see some shit that would make anybody else lose it. like at this point u could tell me this guy could have a casual conversation over tea with cthulu and be fine and i’d believe u

as for stan - and i mean this in the absolute best way possible i love this guy - he’s like the world’s most charismatic cockroach. he’s fantastic with people and just straight up refuses to die. for the first point i don’t just mean this in the conman way, when it comes to the people that actually matter stan always manages to win them over in some way or another (soos, wendy, the kids, ford, etc) and one does not simply survive for a decade on the street without needing the occasional favor from someone who actually likes you. “oh but rico-“ man when u’ve been living as a homeless criminal for a decade and the list of people that want to kill u consists of 1 person and the government u’ve done pretty damn well. anyways as for the cockroach point, he’s alive and has his memories. i don’t even have to say much here stan went through all of That, lived through the series itself including The Literal Apocalypse, metaphorically (something something people are just a collage of their life experiences) died at the end of it all and then came back to life. that’s hardcore as hell man. in a less literal interpretation of the “refusing to die” bit, he’s also just. insanely determined. the biggest example is ofc him never graduating highschool and yet teaching himself god knows how much math and science and whatnot over the course of 30 damn years because he just refuses to believe that he can’t save his brother. stan pines is a force of nature i swear

[additional note while im already ranting about this guy, im not a personal believer in the “stan is just as (academically) smart as ford” theory. first of all i feel like this entire theory is kind of rooted in the idea that he has to be/be on the same level as “the smart one” to have value, which is an idea that the stans’ entire backstory is based around criticizing, and i think stan has something just as if not more valuable than freakish intelligence - raw fucking grit. he wasn’t the one to open the portal back up because of some intellectual advantage, he was the one to open the portal back up because he wanted to, god damn it, and best of luck to you if you’re gonna try and stop him.]

anyways as for the same coin thing, everybody knows the stan part. his casual references to the impending apocalypse, “you’ve been buying gold, right?”, him being such a good conman, etc etc. while i’m already ranting about stan’s determination, bill’s got that too - he’s been trying for like thousands of years to take over the world and he just Won’t Stop. point is there’s a lot of character traits they share

(i know in the original same coin post a pretty major point is stan not making a deal with bill, but i think that could probably be pretty easily explained without the need for divine intervention. the only times bill makes a deal with someone without them summoning him first is after he’s kind of left on a loose end with gideon, and everyone knows stan wouldn’t fall for his lies in the first place)

bill also shares a lot of traits with ford, though. both have some kind of physical anomaly (bill’s eye & ford’s hands), both can see/understand things others of their species can’t, they’re both egomaniacs (listen i love ford but the guy has issues), etc. u could even argue that, at least at the time they meet, they have some kind of connection through their loneliness

so. with the theory of “bill was reincarnated to make up for what he did,” what if it wasn’t just stan? what if he was split in two, and his “reincarnation” is both of them? they’re flawed enough to make it a lot harder for either of them to take over the world (ford’s lack of social skills & stan’s lack of freakish academic knowledge), and they have something bill doesn’t - each other.

bill is alone. that’s his whole problem. he killed everyone he loved, treats everyone new he meets like shit, and now he’s Like That. throughout it all, the one thing the stans have always had - even if it was just in their memory - is each other. “oh but ford-“ shhhh. shhshhshshshhsh. shut up. ford has Problems but i genuinely don’t think he ever stopped loving stan. love is weird, first of all, and secondly he clearly never stopped trusting him. no matter what he might say about stan being a liar or a conman or whatever, who’s the one person he goes to when he’s forced to admit he needs help? ford is a weird guy and has an… odd way of showing it but he loves his family just like the rest of the pines and i will die on this hill

i’ve been writing this for over an hour straight and i think my brain is melting but i’m sure at this point u get the idea. both of the stans, together, serve as a parallel to bill, and the one thing they have that he doesn’t is love. that’s what killed him.

something something killing an interdimensional dream demon with the power of friendship and this gun i found

[scoobydoodean]

Part 1 of 3

Hello. I've been busy. But I'm once again reaching out to the dean sympathizers to finally see reason. Let's discuss climate change metaphors. Now, are we really gonna pretend that a show called "Supernatural" (as in 'above nature'), in which the main characters are literally hunters, isn't about destroying the environment? Because there are countless examples of this theme.

Who is at the helm of subjugating the planet? Everyone's favorite older brother, of course. It is dean's greatest desire to become the world's apex predator, supplanting other beings at the top of the food chain (those he deems as "monsters"), and inheriting the Earth as his own. Note: that is episode title of 15 x 20. Even the angels and G*d himself acknowledge the way dean disrupts the ecosystem or the 'natural order' as they say. In the world of Supernatural, hunters eliminate supposed threats, selfishly putting human power above the welfare of all. This parallels real-life hunters in America displacing wolves before efforts were made to restore them in Yosemite National Park. It's not a coincidence that he felt at home among other predators in Purgatory.

Part 2: Sam What is more intriguing and tolerable is the way Sam, and even cass react to dean’s megalomania. Although dean forces Sam and cass at his side into the life of hunting to achieve his goals, he narcissistically insists that Sam himself is a monster. He states this clearly a couple of times, but the brothers’ opposing food choices also exemplify that Sam is subhuman to a hunter like dean. Consider even the way his slobbish habits are contrasted to Sam in episodes such as Tall Tales, establishing Sam’s own relationship with food as “clean”. Clean for the environment, I say. Sam, the show’s metaphorical climate warrior, does his best to eat a sustainable diet like other passive herbivores such as cows. The fact that dean calls it “rabbit food” is obvious proof that dean literally believes Sam is prey. It is no coincidence that the cattle industry largely contributes to greenhouse gasses, and dean loves eating burgers made of this beautiful herbivore. Part 3: cass In fact, the love of beef perfectly displays cass’ failure to emulate Sam’s environmentally friendly virtue, under dean’s grooming. Even though he states that it is the hunger of his vessel, Jimmy, this is a misleading detail in My Bloody Valentine. Because he is new to emotions, he is a vulnerable, blank canvas to dean as a corrupting influence. He infects cass with his desire to take the Earth as well as burgers. Conversely, dean’s gluttony is so large that it can’t be perceived and augmented by Famine. He is dead inside, and his rot will poison the Earth. Later, with a matching hunger, cass spirals in season six, eventually becoming the “new God”, literally consuming the souls of monsters to do so. This arc of cass eating the Leviathans in his hubris and exploding in the lake is yet another metaphor for overconsumption and pollution destroying the environment. Sam, his “monstrous” powers and autonomy stripped, and cass, mind and heart polluted, are powerless to stop dean’s terrorism on the world of Supernatural during the later seasons. It is only in the end when the Earth is free from dean and his brainwashed kitten cass, that Sam and the rest of world live on. This is why the finale is a clean, green victory! part 4: oops oh my god I totally forgot about cass being dismissed as "crazy" for taking a strong interest in animals and nature in season seven while processing his guilt for his actions in season six. the bees. arguing against animal testing for makeup on monkeys. etc. these references to the environmental destruction are really obvious in Supernatural sometimes.

Part 3 is my favorite.

[cateyesinlove]

OH BY THE GODS! what a delicious scene!

Let’s talk about….

let's begin with the most satisfying part of this scene to see Alicent open her eyes and realize that she is nothing without the system she upheld for so long. Without men to lift them who in return lift her she finally feels like Rhaenyra but she can't defy said system so she has to run, she has to take Helaena ( who Alicent thrust into the same position she was shoved as a child but even younger, Helaena was 13 when she married aegon and probably between 14 and 15 when she was pregnant).

The fact that Alicent tries so hard to be the victim and make Rhaenyra feel like this is somehow still her fault and that all of Alicents flaws are because Rhaenyra is WILD but still incredible because Rhaenyra gags her ass and makes her see how she can’t keep washing her hands of guilt for the things SHE has done, and set into motion. All who have died, their blood is on Alicents hands, especially because Cole was her sworn sword, the man who has an insane amount of blood in his hands.

Then we get to the part where Alicent who has raised all her sons to be full of hatred has told numerous times that Rhanyra was evil, cruel, a monster, that she hates them and would put them to the sword at any minute, and is surprised her sons are monsters. She has basically indoctrinated them to be in a constant flight or fight when it comes to their sister and now she thinks little of them and is willing to just give her sons up to die after she is the reason they are like that?

This is the catalysis of the end of Alicents "complex" character they tried to do everything with this character but they ended up doing nothing. She wasn’t a villain nor she was a good character, she was a bad written character that tried to have layers but all of them ended up mushing together like even when Rhaenyra and her are speaking and Alicent says she tried to do what Viserys wanted yet she talks about how he never stopped loving Aemma and that’s why he kept Rhaenyra as her yet she still pushed for Aegon to be crowned.

Finally I know we all have different takes on the parallel between these two in the final shot but my take is the next;

Rhaenyra who has always been trapped under the weight of being a Targaryen since she was young, from the expectations of marrying and everyone wanting her valyrian blood, being named heir, upholding her claim to always having in the back of her mind the prophecy, and how she and her lineage are meant to unite the realm against the true enemy. She whose blood will bring the prince who was promised.

Then there is Alicent who is finally "free" but who in reality has always been free. She built herself a prison and a window from where she only allowed herself to see Rhaenyra, having the impression Rhaenyra was "free" and could do as she please when in reality she is the one making the sacrifices, the one bounded by duty. Alicent WAS free yet she chose to be trapped under her father's thumb when she brought him back to court, she chose to poison her sons, she chose to crown Aegon, she chose a fake prison where she could sulk and hate Rhaenyra but now she has finally realized she has always been free.

[stellarfire]

good morning y’all !! now that i’ve had time to sleep on the crossover… oh my god ?? and i mean that in the best way possible. this was everything to me omg

although there were some things i lowkey wish we could’ve seen (i.e., more kelly and voight tension, potential my miracle parallel with stellaride), not getting them honestly didn’t take away at all from how much i loved this? more thoughts below the cut bc i got very rambly (and spoilers i guess ??)

starting with stellaride bc they’re my lovelies, obsessed with literally all their scenes. the intro? perfection. stella telling kelly to be careful without knowing she would be the one in the most danger the whole time? o w. “stella kidd, report back right now”? O W. and the more i think about it, the more i’m almost kinda glad we didn’t get the my miracle parallel? i mean sure, the absolute emotional gut punch would’ve done wonders, but there’s something that feels so much more intrinsically them about refusing to say goodbye to each other (namely stella refusing) and instead maintaining that fierce hope that everything would sort itself out and they’d be back together. on top of that, their little reunion with kelly being like “let’s get out of here tonight” like YES please go on that goddamn vacation now you two deserve to go to cancún something awful. what we did get may not be as heavy of a punch, per se, but at least to me, it hit all the same, and my god was i a lowkey mess hearing kelly’s message to stella being what she told him that morning😭 “we gotta make the time” what if i collapse huh then what

i think this has the potential, judging by the promo as well as this article, to be such a good segue into them finally getting into the real deep conversations and i’m really curious to see how it plays out over the rest of the season. i know some people think there could be a “but…” to this, but even if there is, i don’t think it will be as major of one people might worry it could be. that said, will it be an easy path? definitely not. i know we’re about to get some semblance of drama before the end of the season (and i’m prepared)😭 but all things considered, we’re heading in the overall right direction !!

secondly, plouch. oh my god plouch. i haven’t gotten more emotional watching this show in so long than i did last night watching those two. mouch talking to trudy before she went under for surgery? nobody touch me i’m STILL recovering from that one😭 christian stolte the actor that you are WOW, he put 200% into that and it SHOWS

thank GOD tho she lived holy SHIT i was fucking petrified ripley and lenox were gonna come out and say she didn’t make it omg

just as i predicted too, burzek gave me emotional damage !! ruzek refusing to say goodbye and being insistent he would be home for dinner ?? letting mak pick it ?? the way kim literally BOOKED IT to him at the end and he picked her up ?? i can’t stop watching that it’s so so perfect😭

stella and ruzek was such an incredible duo too, i need more of them asap actually. the way they balanced each other out and relied on each other and just worked so seamlessly as a team by the end of it, despite not being super familiar with each other? SO GOOD

what stella did to duffy when he had her at gunpoint??? first off i’m stunned that happened i wasn’t expecting that shit literally at all and god was i living in fear for a few moments there. but secondly, i’m floored omg, STELLA KIDD THE WOMAN YOU ARE. we all knew how badass she was before this, but that was something else. i think i just fell in love with her all over again but i digress

also one last thing, pascal’s reaction to stella not answering ?? i could go on and on about kelly’s obviously but pascal’s honestly caught me by surprise considering how frequently they’ve butt heads this entire season. the genuine concern ?? OUCH. there’s hope for them yet !! seeing that side of him, even if brief, was a good emotional punch. that mf truly does fascinate me as a character. will be thinking about that entire sequence for a while

i won’t keep yapping; i think all of that about sums up what i can manage cohesively LMAO. was this crossover perfect? no, but you truly can see just how much love and care and effort went into this entire thing from everyone involved. and i think as much as i do love the infection crossover, i gotta say, i think this one takes it as number one for me. i will be watching all three episodes so many more times

one chicago my beloved <3

[edgy-ella]

SONIC 3 WAS SO GOOD!!!

Extended thoughts below:

The action scenes are by far the best they’ve ever been in the whole series. They’ve really improved how they visually represent Sonic’s speed. The only exception is the gravity scene at GUN HQ, which I think dragged on a little too long and overall wasn’t as impactful as, say, fighting a GUN mech with those same gravity abilities would’ve been.

Keanu is ok as Shadow. If you’ve seen the trailers, that’s about the level he keeps it at for the whole movie. I think I would’ve been more sold on him if he gave a bigger “MARIA!!” when she died.

In the first act, I felt like the movie was kind of on autopilot. Things just kind of happened without a ton of buildup, and the script kind of lacked flavor for the expository scenes. For example: when Sonic asks Olive Garden Guy™ about Shadow, he just starts expositing Shadow’s lore without anything like “this information is top secret, tell no one else about this” or “it’s painful to think about…I wish I could just act like it never happened” or even Sonic questioning how/why Shadow came from a meteorite. Just lore exposition without flavor from the rest of the cast. Throughout the movie, the dialogue felt very on the nose. I wish it was a little more subtle, but it’s a kids movie I get it.

On that note, the movie feels like it just has a checklist of SA2 iconography they had to tick off rather than more naturally integrating that kind of stuff into the plot. For the larger story it works well, like with Shadow and Maria, but stuff like the Chao Garden and “talk about a low budget flight!” just kind of felt…tacked on. In the moment it’s fine because I’m too busy aggressively pointing at the screen, but for someone not as invested in the series as I am, it feels a little random and clunky.

The movie really kicks up when Shadow starts having Maria flashbacks. The little montage they have with them together was so good. The cold cut to the record player stopping was so well done.

In retrospect, when just looking at this movie and not the rest of the franchise, I think Maria and Gerald’s relationship could’ve had some more focus. They never mention anything about Maria being sick in the movie, so it’s not clear why she’s there at the research station to begin with. That being said, Gerald telling Ivo “you’re no Maria” towards the end was gut wrenching. My theater audibly ooh’d.

@allshaftsfall and I were betting that the reason Gerald is still alive would’ve been through time travel shenanigans (which would set up the next movie), but, bizarrely enough, it just seems like Gerald is genuinely that old. He mentions he’s 110. But…how? Did he just survive that long? Did he use Shadow’s quill to expand his lifespan? It’s never explained.

I’m glad they had Knuckles and Tails continue to be proactive and do things instead of just being relegated to cheerleaders and/or comic relief. Knuckles in particular wound up hard carrying Sonic and Tails through most of the action setpieces.

There’s a scene where Tails talks to Agent Stone about being Sonic’s friend and not his assistant like Stone thinks he is, and Tails asks Stone “aren’t you and Eggman best friends too?” Stone replies verily sorrowfully “yeah…friends. Totally friends.” I know it’s meant to read as Stone wishing Eggman treated him better but I could not see it as anything other than Stone thinking “he’s my lover!” but thinking he can’t say that to Tails bc he thinks Tails is homophobic.

YET ANOTHER GOD DAMN CASPER REFERENCE. I cannot believe that both this and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, my two most hyped movies of the year, both had Casper references in them. I’m losing my mind.

I am so mad they didn’t actually kill off Tom. The setup was right there. They even parallel Sonic grieving him to Shadow grieving over Maria! But noooo he survives. When will we be free of human cop dad.

DUDE. The Super Sonic/Super Shadow fight was SO FUCKING GOOD. Worth the price of admission alone.

I kinda figured Live and Learn was gonna be in the movie going in from how much everyone’s been #KnowingSmile posting about it, but honestly? I was more hyped hearing Eggman’s theme from Unleashed start playing. It was way more of a “oh my god, it’s the thing!” moment. That being said HOLY SHIT LIVE AND LEARN PEAK!!!!!! The movie’s OST had a lot more of a rock influence and I couldn’t be happier.

I have some miscellaneous “I liked this better in SA2” stuff (pissing on the moon, Shadow’s heel-face turn, etc.), but all of them I understand why the filmmakers did what they did so they’re just nitpicks.

The end credits scene is kind of insane because it’s super long. It just feels like a scene from the next movie. Metal looks a little rough, but I’m sure they’ll polish him up for the next movie. They’re probably going to lean into Amy being a magic fortune teller girl given how she shows up in a dark cloak and floats in the air. I hope she’s gonna keep the fangirl energy, but I doubt it. Very interesting choice to do multiple Metal Sonics, though, especially since Sega only likes using the one Metal Sonic rather than having different copies running around. My prediction for the next movie is that Neo Metal Sonic will be the main villain and he’s controlling all the other Metal Sonics from afar.

[girl4music]

It’s interesting to think of Callisto not just as Xena’s arch-nemesis and main foil but also as Gabrielle’s mirror image and parallel because she can’t be much older than Gabrielle is. I mean Xena destroyed Callisto’s village when she was only a child. True, Xena was a teenager herself when she went on her 10 year long period of darkness. But she is obviously older by a good margin of years. I would say maybe 10 years between her and Gabrielle and 7 between her and Callisto. Say Xena was 16 when she began her dark period. That would make Gabrielle 6 and Callisto 9.

Which I think definitely checks out by the time we get to Xena’s army pillaging and destroying Cirra. Xena would be 20. Callisto would be 13 and Gabrielle 10.

So it’s interesting to think of Callisto as what Gabrielle could have been if Xena’s army had attacked Poteidaia instead of Cirra and murdered her family instead of Callisto’s. As I said - Gabrielle wasn’t special. There was nothing in her that would have made any real difference if those things had happened to her instead. Nothing but the love between her and Xena.

Which obviously she wouldn’t have had if circumstances had just played out that way.

If Gabrielle was Callisto and Callisto was Gabrielle.

And I like that Callisto tries to make Gabrielle see this when Gabrielle asks her if she felt anything when Xena confessed her crimes in ‘A Necessary Evil’ to a random village at her request in exchange for her assistance in stopping and defeating Velasca. She basically says: “Think about if this was you, would you be different?”

And Gabrielle wouldn’t have an answer for her…

Not yet. You see, to Callisto… Gabrielle fell in love with the villain. She wouldn’t possibly understand that. But Gabrielle wouldn’t possibly understand how Xena couldn’t be the hero. And it’s one hell of a dichotomy.

CALLISTO: “My goodness, are you trying to figure me out? I’m flattered.”

GABRIELLE: “Answer me. Or are you afraid?”

CALLISTO: “Let’s play a game, shall we?”

GABRIELLE: “All right.”

The way Callisto HITS when interpreting Xena and Gabrielle as a love story is so god damn DELICIOUS.

“You fell in love with the destroyer of my soul. Why would you think I would ever give mercy to you? But you’re no different to me. Circumstances saved you.

Instead of Xena destroying your life, she rescued your life. As my hatred for her grew, your love for her grew.

You could never understand me, little girl.”

But of course we know she does… eventually.

But she still looks at Xena as the hero. And that will always be the delicious striking difference with this.

In Callisto’s eyes - Xena is the villain.

In Gabrielle’s eyes - the hero.

What makes the difference? Honestly… Nothing but the circumstances because Gabrielle is no different.

Gabrielle fell in love. Callisto fell in hate.

Xena refused to let Gabrielle praise her - celebrate her. Nor did she ever ask for Callisto’s forgiveness. Ever.

She told her she was sorry but she didn’t force a narrative that she knew was absolutely impossible no matter how much Gabrielle believed in her goodness.

This show is not about heroes vs villains.

It’s about actions vs consequences.

The circumstances are the only difference between. And storytelling like that will always last because it will always be relevant and resonant for real people.

And once again - I have to highly praise the writers for refusing to let the protagonists off with plot armor. For refusing to sugarcoat the events and situations that happen in this show just because they’re the heroines and they’re a representation of women loving women. Because it’s also a representation of women hating women and that deserved to be just as focused on and just as much respected as the love story there.

Callisto was never undermined and I am so grateful. And great storytellers never have to sacrifice anyway. They can simultaneously tell a beautiful story of love, forgiveness and devotion and tell a compelling story of revenge, hatred and burden. That is great writing because it’s always honest, realistic and authentic.

And Callisto is emphasised xBILLION in a WLW love story because she becomes the main conflict in it.

Then everything that happens suddenly is MORE because the romance in this show doesn’t ruin it.

It only ever makes it more worth watching because the writers knew exactly what they were doing with it because not a single character arc ever suffers for it.

👏👏👏

[prythiansprincess]

*+:｡.｡ the riddle brothers being sleep token coded ｡.｡:+*

*+:｡.｡ MATTHEO ｡.｡:+*

you’re gonna tell me tmbte isn’t about mattheo?

my, my, those eyes like fire i’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre come now bite through these wires i’m a waking hell and the gods grow tired

and I don’t know what’s got its teeth in me, but i’m about to bite back in anger. no amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

vessel wrote the summoning from mattheo's horny pov he told me so himself

you’ve got my body, flesh and bone. the sky above, the earth below. nothing to say and nowhere to go. a taste of the divine.

oh and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from god? or are you really here to cast me off? or maybe just to turn me on.

cause these days, I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t wish that I could be your man or maybe make a good girl bad.

don't even get me started on sugar !!!

do you wanna see how far it goes? do you wanna test me now, my love? you must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily.

I know, I know, I am what I am. the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb. so darling, will you saturate?

*+:｡.｡ TOM ｡.｡:+*

ten year old me seeing thomas marvolo riddle appear in the chamber of secrets for the first time:

who made you like this? who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?

won’t you come and dance in the dark with me? show me what you are, I am desperate to know. nobody better than the perfect enemy. digital demons make the night feel heavenly.

I can offer you a blacklit paradise. diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky.

euclid is so tom fight me on this

yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry, a parallel I would lay my life on so if your wings won’t find you heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone.

the whites of your eyes turn black in the low light in turning divine and we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined I know for the last time you will not be mine so give me the night.

the PAIN and ANGST it's giving tommy I fear

and we are exhausted by all this pretending, we just can’t resist the violence and you need the melody, I only need the silence.

somewhere the atoms stopped fusing. i’m still your favorite regret; you’re still my weapon of choosing.

yeah goodbye I don't even want to talk about this last line

I want to be forgiven. I want to choke up chunks of my own sins even if the sky cracks in the morning and the heavens just won’t open for me.

in conclusion, the riddles 🤝 sleep token = sexy self-loathing and slutty poetic lyricism

[consumeroflemoans]

For the character break down since he's been in the public conscience, Sunday? Also Aventurine so we have the classic?

I DIDNT SEE THIS ASK OMG

Sunday

- How I feel about him?

Augh I love love love his character so much. He’s such a fascinating exploration of the trauma and grooming that can sometimes come from religious institutions. He’s a deeply flawed person that I just want to see improve

- Who do I ship with him?

Stellar question to ask the multishipper I have a few

Sunheng - This most recent quest really opened my eyes to this ship. Dan Heng and Sunday have parallel plots of redemption. They both have been made criminals in their own homes after doing something they believed was right. Dan Heng is further along in his character arc, so he could potentially help Sunday with his own development, helping him find his own purpose. Also they’re on the Astral Express together now (:

Sunturine - These absolute divas. The conversation between Order Sunday and Aventurine had my toxic yaoi bells ringing. I’ve talked about this before, but they are amazing foils for each other. Sunday is lowkey obsessed with Aventurine’s surface level frivolity, it was even mentioned in his argument against himself. The dynamic of the (metaphorical) straight man x the frivalous flirt is so fun. Also “It’s Sunday, the most handsome man in Penacony” plays in my head constantly.

Sunday x Caelus/Stelle - Now I don’t ship the Trailblazer with a lot of people, but this is one situation where I think it would work. Penacony was supposed to be a vacation for them and it turned into arguably one of the most traumatic experiences of their life. The dynamic between a villain searching for redemption and the one that defeated them in the first place is really fun to explore and I think there could be good angst.

- Non-romantic OTP?

Oh my god Sunday and Robin. Their sibling dynamic brings me life and the newest quest nearly made me cry. Sunday has been so dependent on Robin acting as the light in his life and he’s finally recognizing that he needs to secure his own independence. They love each other so much I hope they see each other again

- Unpopular opinion?

I’ve touched on this before but I don’t think Sunday has changed all that much yet. I’ve seen a bit of discourse surrounding the farewell quest because it’s frankly confusing at times. This quest wasn’t about him becoming a whole new person, it’s about him finally accepting that he can’t change the past. He can only move forward and work to improve himself

- One thing I wish would happen/had happened

Please please hoyoverse I am on my knees give Sunday more interactions with the Astral Express crew. I’m well aware he’s only a passenger but he could have so many interesting conversations with them. I was really hoping the room event had Sunday included. It makes sense why he isn’t but I’m still kind of sad

Aventurine

- How I feel about him?

Obsessed with this character. He’s my husband. He’s my darling little boy. He kicked off the growing trend of us really getting to see the plot from character’s perspectives and I think they did a phenomenal job exploring his trauma.

- Who do I ship with him?

*clears throat* Dr. Veritas Ratio. *the crowd goes wild*

I do think they have a fun dynamic. Once again the straight man character plays well off Aventurine gambling on everything. It’s also nice to see a character that genuinely cares. Someone who can say, no, stop, this is actively harming you. Ratio also doesn’t say that in the most polite way, but I think it makes them fun.

Also Sunturine again (:

- Non-romantic OTP?

Aventurine and Topaz! I really like to think of them as best friends. They’re lowkey bad influences on each other, but they work well together. There’s a lot of fun concepts for workplace shenanigans also with them working together as Stonehearts.

- Unpopular opinion?

I don’t think it’s an unpopular opinion but tbh I’ve seen a lot of people mischaracterize Aventurine as being incredibly reckless. His entire theming is based around gambling but he’s actually an extremely calculating character. He had an intricate plan on Penacony with multiple backup plans to fall back on. He’s very smart with his plans and knows how to make things go his way. That’s why he’s good at what he does.

- One thing I wish would happen/had happened

Proper Aventurine/Boothill team up when. I need to see them take down the IPC together. They’ve both lost their homes, their families, and their autonomy to them. I need this for my soul

[queer-scots-geordie-dyke]

i do not know where else to send this and this account has become somewhat of a comfort zone for me but i truly do not understand the direction in which the world is marching on, especially in regards to a shockingly amount of people happily jumping into the antisemitic bandwagon like one skips on the jump rope with gleeful vitriol. i sincerely thought i nearly lost my mind and was hallucinating upon seeing people claim that the virgin mary is palestinian rather than a jewish woman and that casting an israeli jewish woman to fill the role in that upcoming netflix movie – and painfully enough that is not all that there is, or the worst thing to happen. every single day is a painfully uncomfortable experience AT BEST by virtue to the parallels to history (i love and hate history. i am not even the biggesy history nerd out there but i love and hate it so much) repeating like a carousel right in front of my eyes and it drives me up the wall that more people are simply ? not giving two rats asses about it ?? do not care as long as innocent jews are harmed ??? what the fuck is that all about ???? i’ve had to stop calling myself a leftist due to the SHEER amount of violent antisemitism that others have allowed into what i thought were safe spaces but are evidently not, and i can’t imagine how much worse jewish people must have it right now. the news give me a vague picture but none of it compares to having to live thru a pogrom. in 20-fucking-24. i do not know what to think anymore and my fears are only getting bigger by the second and i needed to get this off my chest, i suppose.

- sincerely, a very distressed non-jewish anon with basic human decency

God, I really feel every word of this so you're not alone. It has been horrifying to see how quickly the mask of civility falls when people see an opportunity to indulge their worst selves in the name of a 'righteous' cause.