#the manhattan glory

[tuyetnhivincity]

CUỘC SỐNG TẠI VINHOMES GRAND PARK QUẬN 9 23/9/2024

[midwestaesthetics]

Parklife (A Daydream)...

October afternoon blue skied an’ clear

I stake my claim to a lazy spot

Beneath the juvenile oak’s shade

Near where the pavement separates

Garden flowers in this season’s final gasp

From the pond’s silken silence stirred up

By gusts crisscrossing ripples

The rustle of trembling aspens

Crowned in autumn gold splendor

Which is receding leaving

Branches starkly disrobed

Blue tinted morning glories

Shoot from the trellis

Their brilliance tussling carelessly

 

I slow danced with you in the

Dying embers of summer sun

‘Long these windy paths

As swallows flitted in and out

Of tall grass blankets

Manhattan, I still have glints

Of a reminisce, horse carriage rides

Amid canyons of glass and concrete

The thick soup of its summer heat

Sweaty glue clinging cotton to collarbone

Gone, gone, it’s all gone, you’re gone, we’re gone

And so, I bid adieu to you…

[bassguitarinablackt-shirt]

rip mathew mckoy you wouldve loved trying to stop the world just to stop the feeling

[manwalksintobar]

The Unknowable // Philip Levine

Practicing his horn on the Williamsburg Bridge hour after hour, "woodshedding" the musicians called it, but his woodshed was the world. The enormous tone he borrowed from Hawkins that could fill a club to overflowing blown into tatters by the sea winds teaching him humility, which he carries with him at all times, not as an amulet against the powers of animals and men that mean harm or the lure of the marketplace. No, a quality of the gaze downward on the streets of Brooklyn or Manhattan. Hold his hand and you'll see it, hold his eyes in yours and you'll hear the wind singing through the cables of the bridge that was home, singing through his breath--no rarer than yours, though his became the music of the world thirty years ago. Today I ask myself how he knew the time had come to inhabit the voice of the air and how later he decided the time had come for silence, for the world to speak any way it could? He wouldn't answer because he'd find the question pompous. He plays for money. The years pass, and like the rest of us he ages, his hair and beard whiten, the great shoulders narrow. He is merely a man-- after all--a man who stared for years into the breathy, unknowable voice of silence and captured the music.

[from1837to1945]

Jimmy Butler (1920-1945) in No Greater Glory (1934)

Jimmy Butler (1920-1945) in Manhattan Melodrama (1934)

[somewhereincairparavel]

Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time. 

It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training. 

His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.

Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.

Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”. 

He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.

Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.

Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.

With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace. 

The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.

These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him. 

He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.

 But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately” 

“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.

Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.

Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.

He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy. 

Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him. 

Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.

Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.

This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.

His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.

Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.

Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.

Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.

Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.

His father. Jason's father, Zeus. 

Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much. 

Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time. 

Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying. 

She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less. 

He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.

Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.

Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes. 

To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.

To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.

To your father, you are merely one of his many sons. 

To your sister, you are a stranger.

Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed. 

“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.

 Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.

Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.

Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero. 

The lost hero. Jason Grace.

[flowerbunnyboo]

HARD SEX AT HARD ROCK CAFE | back

starring: yeonjun x male reader

summary: yeonjun has not let out his freak out for a while due to his busy work but he meets someone at the bar, and let’s just say that they made everyone run away from the bathroom

nsfw, minors dni, don’t report

Yeonjun was bored, tired of this hectic life that he had. Going to work, sitting in that one place for hours, getting shouted at by your stupid boss, it was putting a toll on him.

“Jun, you should go the bar. Have some fun. Tomorrow’s Saturday anyways and we don’t have any work”, Soobin said as he packed his bag and patted Yeonjun. Yeonjun sighed. “I’ll see. Bye Soobin”, and with that the two left the office and went on to their own paths.

Yeonjun started walking towards the bus stop but he stopped midway. The thought of going to the bar and having a drink or two didn’t seem bad. “Maybe, maybe I’ll go”, Yeonjun took a u turn and started his way to the nearby bar.

The bar was loud, a bit too loud for Yeonjun’s liking but he didn’t pay attention to it. The lights blinded him but he was determined. “I’m gonna go drink”, he made a fist and took that determination and went straight to the bar.

“What will you like to have sir ?”, the bartender asked. “Umm…a Manhattan would do please”, Yeonjun gave his order. He looked around as the bartender made his drink.

Someone caught the man’s eye. There was a guy sitting across Yeonjun and they made eye contact and Yeonjun could already feel the tension. He eyed the man as he walked towards him, gulping at the man’s figure.

Yeonjun hadn’t had sex for a while and this man seemed the right one.

Mn smirked as he saw Yeonjun’s lustful eyes eating him up. He could see the growing tent in Yeonjun’s pant and he licked his lips to entice Yeonjun even more.

“Here’s your drink sir”. Yeonjun took the drink and paid the money. He gulped the drink in one slurp and went straight towards the hot stranger. He crashed his lips onto Mn.

Mn kissed him back and presses his body on Yeonjun’s feeling his scent, wanting even more.

The stall of the bar was being degraded by every thrust Yeonjun was putting in Mn’s asshole. “You like that ? Taking daddy’s cock like a slut ?”.

Yeonjun groaned into Mn’s ear as he choked Mn’s neck and slammed his dick right inside Mn’s tight pink hole.

The tightness of Mn’s hole made Yeonjun even horny. The way his hole was squeezing Yeonjun’s cock out was making Yeonjun shaky.

Mn was moaning like a bitch in heat as he felt Yeonjun cock slide in and out of his tight hole.

Yeonjun was pounding Mn so hard that the bathroom was full of sexy and sinful noises.

Yeonjun wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Mn had spurted his cum three times staying in the same position. Yeonjun hadn’t moved him at all. It felt like a glory hole.

Yeonjun was leaving hickeys on Mn’s neck. The sensation was making Mn horny. He started pumping his cock. “Let daddy do it”, Yeonjun said and started jerking off Mn while pounding his ass with his fat cock.

“Fuck !”, Mn screamed as he shot his fourth load onto the toilet seat. The man tightened his hole so much that Yeonjun couldn’t help it but he finished right inside Mn.

Mn and Yeonjun kissed each other as they pulled up their pants and got out of the bathroom.

Yeonjun definitely did not go home alone that night.

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[classicpixels]

West Village Residences

A pair of historical detached houses that have been restored to its former glory. It offers mirrored floorplans, a shared community garden and a stunning waterfront view of the Hudson River with ample privacy. Situated in a quaint residential district of Manhattan, these houses are perfect for newlyweds or couples seeking to start their family.

[melancholicstation]

Like An American 𓍼 𓇢𓆸

pairing: jack schlossberg x reader

summary: after a treacherous weekend of paddle boarding along the scenic shores of manhattan and viscose shorts that rid up far too high due to the water, you drag your husband to a Hamptons pilates class, and get far more of a workout than you bargained for.

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

warnings: (tasteful, classy, anaïs nin pilled) smut, 18+ only, implied age gap, soft petting, words of affirmation, soft aftercare, slapping, unprotected intimacy, biting, back rubs

'drive fast, i can almost taste it now,

You apathetically scroll your manicured, chanel hand-creamed ( a gift from jack himself ) hand through instagram reals and shortly abandon that effort as soon as you feel your brain being numbed by the drivel common on instagram at the current impasse. Your attention abandons that activity for a much more fulfilling escape: that of observing your husband of 2 months, jack, setting up a joint pilates appointment for the two of you with the women upfront, dressed in chic linens only truly observed in all their glory on a women summering in amagansett.

L.A., i don't even have to fake it now,

You gather yourself and sway over to the counter and offer to pay, in the effort of lifting your wallet your steel robot keychain sways slightly before resuming its residence resting by your small leather card holder. Jack looks at you, in a passive yet horrified glance and delicately waves your cards away and places a hand by the nape of your neck. Murmuring to "never worry about that sort of thing around him" in his instantly recognisable accent and cadence.

As he resumes his conversation with the girl organising your shared class, jack continually and gently circles the baby hairs at the base of your neck. Some he would perform a zig-zag motion along the base of your scalp, and other's he would gently caress the baby hairs, not failing to continue his trail to the middle of your neck.

You're like so sick, everybody said it,

It may be because of this delightful pseudo scalp-massage that you nearly don't pick up on the blatant flirting coming from the girl across from you, directed at jack. Even in an effort to catch her eyes, hers are completely fixated on that of your husband's, the gall of some people! You see her taking quick clipped glances at his 6.0 frame, dressed in hand-me-downs gifted to him by his great aunt back in the fall of 2019 (is it really classified as "hand-me-downs" if the pieces of old clothing are Loro Piana and Brunello Cucinelli?)

You're way ahead of the trend, ge-get it,

Due to Jack's parentage and familial connections you had always, to ebbing extents, had been a public figure whenever you stepped outside with Jack. Some crazed paparazzi had even papped you guys entering a jazz bar reconstructed from a prohibition speakeasy in the west village in 2019. This caused slight public fan-fare over niche twitter and instagram communities, many likening it to the glossy nineteen-nighties candids of John F. Kennedy Jr and his wife Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy. But as of 2024 being an election year, and an important decade-defining one at that, the interest around Jack had reached an almost fever pitch. Not only did you wake up to a phone-breaking amount of follower requests on instagram since jack's appearance during the democratic national convention, but your once small, curated following on TikTok had blossomed from a petite fig tree, to a unruly and domineering monstera. Despite this you attempted to take this change in your stride and continued business as usual.

Elvis is the best, hell yes,

As the girl confirms your appointment she asks you to wait a few moments in the lounge to allow the instructors time to adequately prepare the room. You both saunter over to a particularly comfortable-looking linen settee in the back of the room, a hand securely placed along your back by jack.

"You know I can't believe you made me sign up for this, i'll be as graceful as a hippo on a ballet barré and you know so!" Jack chuckles out sarcastically, in such a tone that gives away his true ill-advised confidence at mastering the art of pilates. An activity that since your water paddle-boarding escapes around manhattan's greatest shores, you had been dying to have him try his hand at it at least once.

"You shouldn't knock it until you try it, jack. I promise you'll adore it--or you won't and you'll completely resent it until the day you die. It's just a game of chance really." This instigates you into preparing jack for what he's about to walk into, you start with showing him so low-impact pilates videos you'd saved to your camera roll. He replies with boastful comments sliced in with moments of disbelief at how people could contort their own bodies into such positions.

A pilates instructor by the name of Anya, politely tells us that the room is ready and that instructor Zoe is ready to begin the session whenever they are.

The room, being that the property was in the east Hamptons, had gorgeous, sprawling views of the main beach shore line. The studio was surround by white wooden shiplap, adorned with antique yet charming looking prints of deers and lambs frolicking in a garden so beautiful it had to be painted from the depths of an artist's imagination. Before the couple could even take in the beautiful studio, a very upbeat Zoe bounded into the room not unlike to the excitement of a labrador puppy, and before either person knew it the class had commenced.

The duration of the session plays out like a comedy show that not even the great minds of a 2010s snl dream-team cast could think up. Not only did jack multiple times fall of the reformer, but his grunts were reminiscent of a much more intimate activity not commonly done in the presence of a stranger.

The class ended with you feeling refreshed, and jack feeling mildly humiliated--okay considerably humiliated at his lack of an ability to pick up pilates form on command.

As soon as Zoe departed through the double doors to leave you guys to re-coop, you throw yourself onto Jack's reformer and devolve into a fit of laughter. "Yeah--Yeah laugh it up while your husband is severely embarrassed and wounded" Jack says in a tone that betrays the bitter exterior he's putting up. "Oh please Jack the only thing wounded is your ego, your just jealous I was great at paddle-boarding"

"Depends on how you define great" Jack comments laughing, but quickly dies down once you pull his the hair at the base of his neck to halt his teasing of your mediocre, at best, paddle boarding.

You make me crazy, you make me wild,

As a result this causes him to retaliate my gracefully lifting your alo yoga clad body into his arms and onto his lap. From this point of view you observed the way the tank clung to his form, and the scent of his musk inflamed your desires in an almost animalistic, feral fashion. Both of your hips begin to languidly meet his, as his mouth meets yours. Saliva covers the both of your chins, which in any other situation would disturb you both greatly, but in a moment like this it's supremely erotic. Clothing meeting clothing, friction creating more, and more friction. Your knees start to dig into the plush mat of the reformer as jack settles you gently on the seat of the reformer and undresses the lower half of his and carefully slides your pointelle underwear to one side. In any other situation you, as a couple, would be horrified at your shared lack of social decorum: I mean, seriously, you guys are in a pilates studio for christ sake! But at this interim you cannot find it in yourself to quite care, and you've got a sneaking suspicion that neither does Jack.

Just like a baby, spin me 'round like a child,

As Jack leans over to line himself, you crane your tennis necklace clad neck to delicately kiss his cheek. To which he, in return, blushes (and giggles) like a schoolgirl. As he plunges, the shared couple lets out a breath of relief. Breaths of relief that mirror ships docking into a much-loved harbour, marking a safe return. And that's what they were to each other a safe place to return. Apart from small words of encouragement that you were "doing so well for him" and that he gets amazed by how "well you take him every time" Jack eventually stops talking. On your part he may have continued to talk but by then your mind had soon become the consistency of day-old porridge. With your body only seemingly responding to the stimulus brought on by Jack. The pounding, and the sense of completeness and fullness infuriates your head and decimates any other thoughts not relating to the man in front of you.

Be young, be dope, be proud,

Sometimes, you felt perverse when you slept with Jack in this manner, rough and unrelenting, for you imagined that to know yearning for one person as much as you had, that something had to be wrong with you. Something that had to have been corrupted to form such a need for one person's existence. That was only given brief air-time in your mind as you were brought back by the feeling of callous hands grasping your face with the gentleness of a bear that doesn't know the power of it's strength yet---"Are you still with my me my girl?" Jack asks, and slightly slaps the flesh of the side of your behind.

"Yes-yes-Oh God yes" you slur through breathless gasps, like a fish rising to the surface, you feel the unmistakable roll of thunderous pressure and hear Jack encouraging you to "let it all out sweetheart" while caressing your back. And eventually you convulse in his capable, and protective arms. Due to this you quietly lay your head on his chest cocooning yourself in his musk, and watch you favourite expression befall his face. As you feel encompassed by the most delightful warmness, milking him for all he had. In the interim period, waiting for Jack to come down from his high you play with the littered brown hair covering his public bone curling the corse hair. You observe the space where you both meet, and liken it to an image of the sand meeting the ocean. As a result, you don't notice Jack gazing down at you like you're the only other breathing, sentient being on the planet. Your eyes meet and smile bashfully at each other. To break the sexual tension Jack jokes "This has got to cross at least one box of that weird places to have sex bingo we bought, I-I mean surely it has to right?"

"One can dream" you giggle and receive a drawn out kiss from jack as he slides back out.

Jack, being the gentleman that he was raised to be, doesn't let you do anything after such an act, so he cleans you first, then himself in the ensuite attached for those who indented to shower after a lesson, and dresses you back up.

Like an American Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-oh,

As you both walk out, thanking Zoe for her time who was now conversing with the woman at the counter, you finally make eye-contact with the girl flirting with jack earlier. You sense that she may have connected the dots that it wasn't just the pilates class that got you two so worked up after seeing your messily put on clothing, and birds nests of what once was a slick-back bun combined with the sweat pooling around jack's collarbones.

Or maybe, just maybe the walls of the east hampton pilates studio are not as soundproofed as they had brazenly assumed.

Like an American Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-oh.'

the end.

[britney-rosberg06]

Fredrick Chase put his new life over his daughter. Every chance he got he chose them.

Athena put her pride over her daughter. She never let anything g go even if it means her death

Luke Castellan put his need for glory over his sister. Even though he promised

Percy Jackson put her life over his own. Every single time, from the St. Louis Arch to the Manhattan Bridge to the depths of Tartarus. Every single time her over him.

[freddie-77-ao3]

Octavian started another war where he was willing and eager to firebomb a camp full of children so he could reap the glory of victory. I'd say his villainization by the fandom is very well-earned, especially since he had none of Luke's more sympathetic traits.

feel like you missed my whole point but okay.

Um. I mean if we consider Luke's sympathetic traits to be he was actually treated as a human with a backstory, sure, Octavian deserves to be villainized more but uh, I'd consider Octavian's reasons for waging war a lot more legitimate than Luke's tbh?

Like. Luke's boiled down to daddy issues. He was upset his father wasn't there, and decided to make that everyone else's problem. Sure, if it wasn't Luke, it would be someone else, but Luke's the figurehead here. Luke, who was actually treated pretty well by Hermes all things considered.

And yes, May Castellan would have been terrifying, and shouldn't have been Luke's caregiver but...

Having a difficult parental situation absolutely does not give you the right to take your pain out on others. And that's what Luke did.

And yes, Luke absolutely was manipulated. Kronos manipulated him.

Now let's consider Octavian's motivation to "firebomb a camp full of children" as you put it.

Number one: Octavian was also manipulated. Gaea did manipulate him. He thought he was listening to Apollo-- a god who, to him, was good. Should be respected.

Number two: he didn't start the war. No, really. The greeks, from his point of view, brought a warship over the city and started firing. They damaged homes, likely hurt people, all within what was MEANT to be a safe place.

Leo might have been possessed but that was never communicated to Octavian. So no, he didn't start a war.

Gaea forced Leo to start a war. Either way, the Greeks started the war in his eyes.

Also the fact you take such offense to Octavian waging war on children... did you somehow think that Luke was only waging war on the adults? Because I can tell you, most people consider a twelve year old a child, and Luke did in fact try to kill one of those. You know, Percy.

Also victims of Luke: Silena, actively groomed by Luke. Yeah she committed suicide, but she wouldn't have if Luke hadn't done that. Also, grooming is in fact also a crime.

And, you know, all the other casualties from that war. Because there were. Castor, Lee, Bianca, Zoë, Michael, Beckendorf, the other 15 campers dead from the battle of manhattan, and all the other casualties.

Also he did send Chris into the labyrinth, and didn't particularly seem to care that he was driven mad?

Not to mention the PTSD he inflicted on a bunch of kids.

So yes, you're right, Octavian did bad shit. But he also had his reasons for said bad shit. Reasons that I, personally, find a lot more compelling than Luke's.

Plenty of people have daddy issues, anon. Not many of them try to end the world.

[tuyetnhivincity]

ĐẸP NGỠ NGÀNG VỚI NHÀ PHỐ BIỆT THỰ VINHOMES GRAND PARK QUẬN 9

[vimbry-moved]

*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

[that-house]

Crouched behind the bombed-out lump of concrete, Glory toyed with her crucifix. It had all been a lie. Sometimes those words made her mad, but she had bigger things to worry about: people were shooting at her, and if she didn’t kill them quickly she’d miss the seventh inning of the Marlins game.

She tossed a grenade in the general direction of the shooters, hearing swears, then screams, then silence. Killing people didn’t feel bad. It didn’t feel good either, but men like these had killed her brother. He’d have told her to forgive them, sure, but he’d inherited their father’s good side. All Glory got from the old man was his wrath.

Glory stuck her baseball bat out from behind the cover, a bullet tearing it to splinters in an instant. It wasn’t one of her good bats, thank Christ, but the loss still stung. “That was natural-grown maple, you assholes!” she called.

A woman yelled back. “Come out with your hands up and no one will hurt you! We treat prisoners well here in Manhattan.”

“Y’all like baseball?”

A beat of confused silence. “I’ll watch the Yankees when there’s nothing else on.”

“Man, fuck the Yankees.” Glory blindly fired around the corner, hitting soft flesh if the yelp of pain was anything to go off of.

The woman called back, seemingly undeterred. Must have hit someone else. “You a Sox fan?”

“Nah. Miami.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“This year’s gonna be our year.”

“Sure it will.”

“Why are you here?“

“Because some gun-toting maniac made it across no-man’s land, rampaged through three lines of trenches, and booked it into the city proper.”

Glory laughed fondly. “I did do that, yes.”

“Why are you here?”

“The Army of Jersey is paying me good money to send some soldiers to Hell.”

“Mercenary, huh?”

“Yeah, you?”

“New York born and bred.”

“You religious?”

“Christian, in theory. In practice? Who knows.”

“Not a very good one, if you’re out here killing people.”

“Says the killer.”

“Never claimed to be a good Christian. Most Christians aren’t. J-boy was big on forgiveness and acceptance and all that, you know? Not a lot of that going around, since, well, forever, really. Now me, I’m a fan of forgiveness, in theory. In practice? I hold an awful lot of grudges.”

“We gonna talk all day or kill each other?”

“Kill each other, probably. I’m Glory.”

“Rebecca.”

“Alright, Rebecca, let’s have a good clean game. Play ball!” Glory stepped out from behind the ruined wall, and immediately got shot in the heart. This part always sucked. She got a few good shots in herself, but her vision went black before she could tell if she hit anything important.

God damn it.

…

Three days later, Glory returned from the dead, the same way her big brother did all those years ago. She sat up in the ruins with a grin, which quickly soured. She was the Second Coming this wretched world deserved, sure, but more importantly she’d missed the rest of the Marlins game.

[paintbrushnebula]

Random Spider-Verse Headcanons for funnsicles?? OKAY

✨ 🪩 🏄

(emojis are funnee)

When Gwen found out she was assigned to visit E-1610 to catch the Spot, in the days leading up to the mission, she would go up to Miguel with a list of prepared phrases and sentences to ask him how to say them in Spanish. Her excuse was that they were quips for her to say in an upcoming fight with a Rhino variant that spoke Spanish. Miguel had no idea who Gwen was actually planning on saying them to, but he was pretty sure it wasn't to a villain, since they were all for seemingly friendly conversation. But he complied and taught her the phrases in Spanish. When she went to 1610 as seen in ATSV, Gwen never ended up saying any to Miles because was too embarrassed or scared that she'd get the pronunciation wrong. She left 1610 regretting not using them.

Both Miles 1610 and Miles 42 are very good cooks. They learned from their moms because it was a fun bonding activity to talk about their day and open up about their feelings. They haven't done much cooking with mom since they were 13; that was when 1610 was bitten and 42 began training to be the Prowler. Both Mileses are good, but 42 is the better cook because he usually tries to help his mom by making dinner when Rio has a long night shift.

Sometimes Peni will just walk up to Gwen and stretch her arms out, to signal that she wants Gwen to deadlift carry her by her pits like she's a cat. When Gwen does it, Peni just lets her head hang back and her body go limp like she's dead or smth. Gwen just holds her out like that and goes about her day like normal for half an hour.

Gwen ends up moving out at 18. She rents an apartment in SoHo, Manhattan along with Glory and Betty as her roommates. Gwen and Betty are absolute WILD CRATS when they have the house to themselves. Betty is the instigator and Gwen just shrugs and decides to be complicit in her shenanigans. I'm talking All-Star playing at full blast on the speakers, Betty pulling out the Guitar Hero 10 minutes in, and then they switch ALL the furniture and wallpapers and belongings of each other's rooms around just to mess with Glory. So it's like, the interior design of the room is identical to what it was before, but it's now in an entirely different room of the apartment. What's worse is they'll try to gaslight Glory into thinking that their rooms were always like that. It never works obviously, but Glory is that mature mom friend who just puts up with her friends' antics. So Glory just settles for that being her room now. But then Gwen and Betty do the switch-around AGAIN only once Glory is finally used to her new room. The whole experience is loads of fun but like...dude. Glory can't leave them alone for 2 hours. They all love when E Jay comes over, sure, but Em Jay has a habit of visiting unannounced to present day plans or activities without taking their schedules into account. (I haven't read the Spider-Gwen comics in full so this headcanon is just what I interpret from Spiderverse).

Miles somehow thinks he's 6 feet tall. He doesn't have a specific number, just that he's at least over 6 ft. This is coming from how he drew himself after his growth spurt in ATSV's opening to be almost as tall as Peter B and a head taller than Gwen which is clearly not the case XD. So he basically assumes that everyone else he knows is just really really tall, because all the adults as well as Hobie are like a head taller than him at LEAST.

Gwen pirates/uses emulators for all her video games

there's this thing that keeps happening where whenever someone unfamiliar with the Spider-Band learns that Gwen is dating someone within the group, they never guess that it's Miles. They assume it's Hobie first, then Pav, then they'll just keep guessing everyone. They will think it's Spider-Ham before they think it's Miles. It's not that they think lowly of Miles or anything. It's just that no one ever thinks that he'd be Gwen's type because well, he's just so...*gestures to all of Miles* normal. Like people just assume that Gwen would date someone equally as wild and out-of-this-world as her, like...well, everyone else in the Spider-band. Of course, no one realizes that Miles' normalcy relative to everyone else in Gwen's life is partly why he's Gwen's type.

Back in her dimension, Gwen did this thing where she'd go on long drawling walks through suburban neighborhoods at dusk, staring at the populated houses and the golden windows lit warmly by the life happening inside. Sometimes she'd say aloud to herself, "that'd be nice."

Jess gifts Gwen her motorcycle for her 18th birthday.

Gwen has a green thumb. Miles gifts Gwen plants and they'll come up with names for them together. They take naming their plants very seriously.

One of Hobie's favorite couple nicknames for Miles and Gwen is Bonnie and Clyde, respectively.

Gwen had a BIG Y/N phase when she was a preteen. She had long since left it behind, but In between the events of ITSV and ATSV, while George was out on a late night shift, Gwen for whatever reason followed a strong sudden urge and wrote a new Y/N in one sitting. She immediately deleted it when she was done before George came home, but what she hadn't realized was that she wrote it in his account instead of hers. One day George was clearing out his Recently Deleted, he noticed that draft that he knew wasn't his. He opened it, and what he read was literally just the plot of Baby Driver with Gwen inserted as the main character. He was completely lost on that street artist character Gwen had replaced the waitress with until he met Miles.

Betty is obsessed with legos. That's it.

There's also this running gag where someone will show up with a very specific problem or be in need of something that they highly doubt anyone there can help with. Betty will be in the corner and just chirp that she possesses the exact skill to solve the problem, but she'll go completely unnoticed every time. And like it's not that people are being condescending to her or mean, everyone's just. completely oblivious to the fact that Betty's a polymath

Betty keeps a collection of fortune cookie papers. Every morning when she wakes up, she chooses a different one from the collection and keeps it in her left shoe.

EDIT: that last Betty one is cringe idk what was I doing I'm sorry

[citizenscreen]

‘Frank Sinatra may not know how to tie a four-in-hand, but he isn't admitting it. Small wonder when his leading lady, Glora De Haven, volunteered to tie his cravat each morning on the set of Manhattan Serenade, which both appear in for the glory of dear old RKO.’ (Caption 1944)