#but personally it makes me cringe

[pkmn-smashorpass]

You know… I never understood people being afraid of butterflies until SOMEONE had to bring up SOUNDING. Now I’m terrified

[nipuni]

Here is me being super normal about Doctor Who!! I tried on Nicolas' Ten costume today 😌

[bixels]

Taking the current topic as an excuse to ask you to tell me all the reasons you love Rarijack. Your art for the ship is so sweet and intimate I'd love to hear any in depth thoughts you have.

Breathes in.

I think what makes their dynamic really strong is that they have opposing personalities but aligned values. It's deeper than just "opposites attract." Rarity's fancy, prissy, and femme while Applejack's modest, rough, and "masculine." But both value hard work (to the point of being workaholics), their families (both have guardianship over their little sisters), running successful businesses, and eventually each other. Their relationship can be boiled down to, "Despite our differences/disagreements, I still like you because we value the same things."

We see their relationship develop so much. In the first season, they can't stop bickering about surface-level differences. By season four, they still bicker, but will mend their relationship because they can't help but do nice things for each other. In Trade Ya, they start off arguing over personality differences (Applejack likes old junk and Rarity likes useless crap). Then they pivot and start arguing that they value their relationship more than the other. In the end, they mend things by sacrificing their needs and buying each other a gift. Even if they don't understand it, they know it'd make the other happy. And that's all that really matters. It's a genuinely sweet moment that shows how arguing can be healthy and necessary for relationships to strengthen.

We even see them dropping their hang-ups about each others' personalities. In Made in Manehattan, when Rarity runs off in dramatics about someone's fashion, AJ doesn't roll her eyes or scoff, she smiles. Oftentimes, their conflicts are very common domestic conflicts romantic couples face. Applejack's Day Off is about a woman's inability to balance work and life and find time to properly spend with her partner, causing her partner to feel neglected.

By season seven, they're actively participating in each others' interests. Any problems or conflicts that arise are dealt with, and they come out the other end stronger and closer. In Honest Apple, AJ pretty much spells out why their relationship works so well: even though she doesn't understand fashion, she can recognize and appreciate how much work it takes and wants to respect that. When she realizes her mistake in the episode, AJ goes above and beyond to fix things and apologize to Rarity. They care about each other so much.

The two go out of their way, sacrificing their personal desires and beliefs and doing things they normally wouldn't, to make the other happy. That's just love.

There's Simple Ways, where AJ gets stuck in an unwanted love triangle between Rarity and her hipster crush. And her frustration and anger can be so easily interpreted as AJ finding herself in a terrible position; the girl she loves wants another man, and that man wants her.

I dunno. I've always had a preference for opposites attract ships, but Rarijack's stuck with me like a brain worm because they have the perfect chemistry. The way they show they care, or do things for each other, I've always read it as the truest representation of romance in the show.

[wickjump]

“Undertale and it’s FOUL community” STOP IT!!!!!!! IM MADE FUN OF ENOUGH!!!!! STOOPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!! (this kind of thing makes me so angry)

[snowyh2o]

I absolutely love how of the (two) Hazbin Hotel role swap AUs that featured Alastor as either supporting or starting the redemption project I’ve seen and liked, they both put him in glasses and gave him a pony tail. That is what I call peak character design right there.

[eikichi-supremacy]

If nothing else Koenma is a Kuwabara stan and I'm right there with him o7 (I need to write the kuwameshi fic that goes with this fr)

[knightpetrichor]

Zosan zombie apocalypse au but it's lone survivor Zoro meeting escaped lab experiment Sanji

[daenystheedreamer]

okay giving team black kids personalities. jace is frat bro jock of course. still has no tolerance to alcohol and cries when he has hangovers cos his head hurts. luke is a horse girl for arrax. thats his special princess and he brushes its scales and ties bows on its horns. lots of drawings of his dragon taped to the medieval refrigerator. joffrey is insane. actual anklebiter. true hater. likes three people in the world his older brothers and his mommy. uncle daemon HATE. weird blonde little brothers HATE. uncle aegon uncle aemond HATE. loves doing terrible naughty boy pranks. terrible little bad boy naughty boy pranks with his naughty boy prankster kit. definitely the kind of kid who likes bugs so he tolerates helaena so he can steal her bugs. puts a slug in stepgrandma alicent's wine glass and causes another minor civil war.

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Broke (2016): BBC Sherlock is a phenomenal piece of media and anything that seems like a flaw just hasn't been fully explored yet

Woke (2020): BBC Sherlock is an incredibly flawed series run by an egotistical writer, it never deserved the hype and is actively bad on so many fronts (especially representation)

Bespoke (2024): BBC Sherlock is flawed and bogged down by increasingly poor writing, which many fans refused to see while it was airing, leading to hugely misplaced expectations (particularly for the final series), AND it has the seeds of some compelling characterizations and portrayals, some genuinely solid performances, and touches--albeit imperfectly--on complexities that are still being discussed today (particularly as it relates to the relationship between Sherlock and John). The huge cultural impact of the show has created a massive pendulum effect in its public perception, leading to most people today remembering a caricature of the show (whether positive or negative) rather than appreciating its nuanced merits and failings...that being said Season 4 sucked

[houseswife]

house’s cane is grotesquely underutilised sexual style in fanfics considering that 1) it’s a long phallic object that he is constantly handling and 2) he straight up joked about fucking wilson with it that one time

[mazojo]

Anyways XO Kitty love interests summarized

Dae

Min Ho

Yuri

[normal-person-i-promise]

hushed affirmations and gentle caresses

arataka reigen x female reader

no tws :] just a bunch of fluff and kissing

first chapter here, though its not needed to understand this one :> it makes more sense though

Though his head hurts and his heart is beating so fast it threatens to burst, he still leans on the doorway, grinning so smugly you would've assumed you were the one hungover.

He calls your name in a smooth voice, one laced with confidence. "So we're dating now? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff?"

★ ★ ★

You wake up a little earlier than Arataka does. It's about... 10, 10 in the morning, when you awaken to see he hasn't woken up yet. The city outside your bedroom window is alive with the weekend chatter and the excited footsteps that come with it, though it's barely audible; you're too busy focusing on Arataka's slow, steady breathing as his chest rises and falls, studying the way his eyes would flutter as he shifts, trying to get comfortable...

You're still nestled comfortably in his arms, that familiar scent of his sharp cologne and the soft cotton of his white dress shirt bringing a sense of peace and comfort to you. He's warm, his arms wrapped around you almost protectively, your head resting on his chest as you lay on top of him — he's like the cutest, most comfortable pillow you've ever slept on.

And he's going to have the worst hangover.

You lay there quietly in Arataka's warm embrace, just... Staring up at his calm face, his kissable lips set in a slight smile, his eyes shut tightly as he dreams. His golden hair is disheveled, his bangs out of place and in a halo on the pillow.

He's so... Cute, god...

You find your hand on his face: tracing his jaw, feeling the sockets of his eyes and running your fingers through his hair, cradling his cheek and running a thumb across his lower lip — you're almost playing with him, like a child with a new doll, toying with and pulling whatever you can. It's hard to resist, after all; he's too cute not to touch.

Arataka doesn't awaken, thankfully.

You free your other arm from his embrace and now bring both your hands up to his face, a mischievous grin plastered on yours as your gentle hands settle on him. Pinching his cheeks, squishing and pulling them like a grandmother with her grandchild, you coo and fawn, mumbling and murmuring about how absolutely adorable he is. You run your hands through his messy hair, adjust his soft, white dress shirt, fidget with the digits of his fingers.

It's only a second later when Arataka stirs and you panic to rapidly remove your hands from his face. He shifts you in his arms, his eyes fluttering open slowly, slowly, taking a moment to focus before they find yours. He seems to short circuit as he stare at you in confusion, before—

"EH?!"

He pushes you off him quickly, scrambling to put some distance in between the two of you. He stares at you, shaken, before the events of the night come rushing back to him — it causes his face to flush a bright, bright red for just a moment before he hides his face in his hands.

Arataka grumbles and groans in embarrassment, and you can't help but find it absolutely adorable.

You were so... Warm, in his arms, it felt so... So right, like you were supposed to be there, and, oh— last night, your touch? Your sweet, sweet hands caressing his face so, so lovingly? And, god, your voice, your voice when you asked him if he was okay? The kiss—?!

He bends over on himself in the purest form of embarrassment you've ever seen, muttering and mumbling words laced with regret.

He can't help but... Miss you, though. Miss how nice it felt with you in his arms.

The whole time all these thoughts are racing through his groggy mind, you're staring at him with a mixture of concern and amusement, not sure whether to comfort him or tease him about it.

A splitting headache begins to pound at Arataka's head, an extreme fatigue forming in his muscles and limbs, and a sharp pang of regret starting to stab him in the pit of his stomach. A hangover, and regret.

"God, I messed up..." He mutters bitterly into his hands, low under his breath so that you won't hear. You hear it anyway, though.

"I warned you you'd regret it," you say to him, the smug grin you have plastered on your face audible in your voice, making Arataka grumble even louder. He stays quiet other than that, though.

Your grin widens when you don't hear a reply from him, deciding to see just how red you can get his cheeks.

You lean in close, just enough for your warm breath to ghost over his hands pressed tight to his flushed face. "And who was the one nodding his head when I asked whether he was sure?"

You let a beat of silence pass, before, with a voice laced heavily with a smug grin,

"You, was it?"

You stay quiet for a moment to see his reaction, feeling a surge of pride when you see Arataka's shoulders stiffen as he grumbles louder.

More memories, along with more opportunities to tease him, come to mind.

"And who, pray tell, was the one who asked to sleep in my flat?"

You tilt your head to the side, cradling your chin like a great philosopher pondering a deep question. Your eyes roam around the room for just a moment before they land on Arataka again — and he's aware of how your gaze traces his face, running up and down in an almost fascinated daze. You still manage to keep your tone teasing, though.

"Because it certainly wasn't me."

Arataka makes muffled sobbing noise, almost in pain as you watch the red from his cheeks spill over to his ears and neck.

God, you're so... Annoying, especially when you talk like that, reminding him of all the things he did when he was drunk last night...

He— he was drunk, okay?! He wasn't thinking straight! It doesn't matter how long he's wanted to kiss you, he—!

"Stop... Talking..." Arataka groans through gritted teeth, his tone begging and his voice thick with regret.

You arch a teasing brow at him.

"Oh? And why is that?"

You lean in even closer, reaching your hands up to his wrists and wrapping your fingers around them, trying to pry his hands off his face to get a better look at his flushed cheeks. You manage to get them off, holding them near his cheeks.

"Embarrassed, are we?"

Arataka's eyes are wide with fear as he stares at you, his breathing quick and shallow, his face redder than the colour itself. Your eyes fall down to his lips, and his cheeks seem to flush even more, impossible as it is.

His mind is still reeling from the clumsy kiss from the night before — you'd tasted just like the cola you'd drank, your lips cold from the ice and your hands cooling on his hot skin. It felt so... Good, but, god...

Steam almost spouts from his ears as his mind overheats. His expression is overwhelmed as he stares at you with the reddest face you've ever seen on someone, his mouth slightly agape.

Arataka clears his throat, casting his gaze to the side as he struggles to get his hands out of your grasp. You let one hand go, bringing the other into both your hands and beginning to fidget with the fingers.

"Don't... Tell anyone, please," he almost begs in a whisper, his breathing growing shallow as you run a hand up and down his arm, fidgeting with him — bored with nothing to do with your hands. He likes when you touch him. He likes your warm, warm hands on his skin. He likes how you're so comfortable with just... Fidgeting with him like some toy.

Don't stop, please.

"Aww, okay," you say in disappointment, cracking each of Arataka's knuckles with a satisfying 'click!'. He lets you, watching as your hands move from one finger to another, almost mesmerized.

He lets out a sigh of relief at your words, just as you take his other hand and beginning to crack the knuckles on that one, too.

Though he won't ever admit it to you, he likes it. He likes how you handle him just like a little girl with a new doll, he likes how you so lovingly press your lips to his knuckles, he likes how gentle your fingers are as you run them across his cheeks and over his features — it makes his mind go haywire and his heart beat wildly in his chest.

He likes you. He likes you a lot, a lot more than he thinks he does.

You let go off his hands, getting up and off the bed. You stretch, your back popping.

"Hey, Arataka," you ask, your gaze growing worried. You reach a hand out to smooth his golden hair down, trying to make it neater — you're aware of the horrible hangover he's probably having right now.

He hums in response, closing his eyes in contentment.

"I'll go get you some painkillers for your hangover, yeah? Make you some soup and toasted bread?"

He leans into your touch as you cradle his cheek, a low, contented hum vibrating his chest. His eyes are closed tightly, and he startles when you remove your hands and he loses your touch, his eyes snapping open.

"Oh, u-uh, what? Yes, alright, mm-hmm, okay!" Arataka says quickly, embarrassed.

When you get there, Arataka is waiting for you, his cheeks flushing when he sees you again. Every time he lays eyes upon you, the events of last night come rushing up to him...

You prepare his food quickly — it's just a cup of warm tea and a can of boxed soup. You toast some buttered bread as the water boils, and when it's done, you bring the bowl of soup, the plate of toast, and the cup of tea to the bedside table.

He takes the bowl and toast, dipping the bread and biting a piece off with a loud 'crunch!" and swallowing loud enough to get you to know that he's enjoying it. You watch him; you'd prepared a simple breakfast of your favourite flavoured spread on plain, untoasted bread for yourself, and you munch on it as Arataka downs the tea greedily, chugging the soup and stuffing the bread down his throat.

He loves you, he supposes, though he's never loved someone before.

You'd made something for him. You, who's always kind and understanding with him; you, who always jokes with him; you, who he loves with all his heart, had made something for him, no matter how small. Him, Arataka, of all people, was the one you chose to love.

He can't even begin to explain just how much he appreciates you — his words would become nothing more than a mumbly jumble, his manners dissolving into a flustered mess.

"Anything else I can get you?" You offer politely and so, so lovingly, just as Arataka is swallowing the painkillers.

He grins.

"You can get me a kiss, but I—"

You cut him off before he gets to finish, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards you. He's taken aback by your directness, his eyes going wide and his body stiffening — though it's not long before he's returning the kiss, closing his eyes tightly and leaning into it.

Pressing your lips gently to his, you run a careful hand through his hair, caressing his cheek with a loving touch. You can feel the crumbs of the toast and the warm taste of the tea and soup on his lips.

He tastes... Comforting, you suppose. A familiar flavour, that scent of the mouth of someone who's just woken up, the warm taste of freshly toasted bread, the salty flavour of the powdered soup. He tastes nice.

You're careful not to make the kiss last too long, in case he loses his breath; and you're taking care to make sure your touch isn't too painful on his head, lest his headache return.

When you break the kiss, Arataka is nothing more than a mess of mumbly words and flushed cheeks, his hands shaky and his eyes wide. He's so, so cute, in the way that he'd struggle to form proper sentences, the manner in which he'd clumsily try to keep you close.

His heart is beating wildly in his chest, those familiar butterflies in his stomach making his head spin and his vision swim. You kissed him again, you kissed him again! Oh, god, you kissed him...

Arataka gives you lopsided grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm like he'd just eaten.

"That will suffice," he says with utmost confidence.

Just in case, of course, you kiss him again. He seems to be getting the hang of it — he tilts his head to press his lips more onto yours, keeps a hand to the back of your head to elongate the kiss, runs a hand up and down your spine.

When you break the kiss, you wrap your arms tightly around him, squeezing his ribcage so hard it elicits an absolutely adorable yelp of surprise from him, followed by rushed words to loosen your grip.

You're laying on top of him as you crush his torso under yours, your head resting below his shoulder.

You've noticed he's gotten a lot more confident: he can form proper sentences and talk without mumbling, his movements aren't as shaky and uncontrollable, and his kisses are getting better with each time he practices on you.

Arataka wraps his arms around you as you get settled on him, resting his chin on the top of your head. You're so... Comforting, so warm and soft... You're nice to have in his arms, and he finds himself adjusting you do that you're as pressed up against him as he can possibly get it.

You can hear his gentle snoring after ten minutes or so. You wake him up, saying you're going to go shower for a moment as you slip out of his groggy grasp.

You shower as quickly as you can, changing into your most comfortable pair of home clothes. The soft cotton hands loosely off your frame when you enter your bedroom, leaning on the doorframe as you bundle your dirty clothes and throw it into the laundry basket.

Your eyes fall to Arataka as he stares at you.

"Uh, right, I... Got this. Here."

You rummage through your cupboards. It's only a moment later when you take out a pair of folded clothes, slowly placing it next to where Arataka sits comfortably in your bed, lounging like he belongs there. Which he doesn't does, of course.

"These should... These should fit you," you say awkwardly, clearing your throat.

He likes it. He likes you. He loves you.

Arataka, too, showers, though he takes a lot longer. He's wearing your clothes (not that he has a choice, but not that he minds), and, god, he... He loves the fact that what he's wearing now, you've worn before — the cotton of the shirt worn from years of usage, the pants you lended him warm against his skin — and it smells just like you; a warm, soft scent as he slips the clothing on, feeling the old threads cascading down from his shoulders and hanging loosely around his frame.

He finds it... Cozy, and... And sweet, the smell of the laundry detergent and that warmness of the sun. It's so, very, very... Comforting? It's comforting, to him.

Though his head hurts and his heart is beating so fast it threatens to burst, he still leans on the doorway, grinning so smugly you would've assumed you were the one hungover.

He calls your name in a smooth voice, one laced with confidence. "So we're dating now? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff?"

You're scrolling on your phone when he asks you that question, and you switch it off. Seeing Arataka wearing your clothes makes you feel... Nice. He doesn't seem to be arguing about it, at least.

You shrug, a thin smile on your face.

"Must be weird, huh? Finally getting a girl after being single your whole life?"

You narrow your eyes at him as he sputters, your grin widening as his cheeks flush.

He presses a hand tightly to his mouth, gripping the doorframe as his knees almost seem to buckle. The red from his cheeks is visible even through his fingers.

"You're going— to KILL me," he chokes out, his tone laced with embarrassment.

"AND, FOR THE RECORD—!"

Arataka jabs an accusing finger in your face, and you watch on, amused, as he talks in such a panicked tone that you find it hard to understand more than the first few words. He's shouting, yelling.

"ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS AREN'T EVERTHING IN LIFE! TO NOT HAVE A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP IS THE SAME AS NOT HAVING A GOOD MEAL! YOU CAN SURVIVE WITHOUT IT JUST FINE, BUT IT WOULD BE NICE IF YOU HAD ONE!"

He scoffs in disappointment, crossing his arms, his tone almost annoyed — though that undertone of endearment is definitely there.

"I'm surprised you haven't learnt anything from working under me."

You roll your eyes.

"You can just say you're bitter about being single. It won't hurt you."

Arataka sputters again, opening his mouth to argue — but closes it quickly, realising that he's just making himself look worse. Instead, he crosses his arms tightly and grumbles, which an adorable display despite his agitation.

You grin, getting up and off the bed to ruffle his hair. He pushes your hand off, annoyance written on his face.

[superbellsubways]

waiter waiter! more onesided pairings please!

[shesmore-shoebill]

Fascinating/unexpected reveals from the Ick video: Amanda is Not A Fan of people calling their parents mommy and daddy.

- "i know I say mommy and daddy a lot, but i joke because im trying to heal from the many times people do that".

- Lets Do This! reference :')

- Angela IMMEDIATELY putting her cringe token down on the mommy daddy one

- Angela also going i think you love when people go for a ball and then miss it

- Amanda actually loving the ball one. "it makes me cringe and i LOVE it" "what if your husband did it" "my husband HAS done it and its very fucking funny and AWFUL."

- Amanda getting an overpowering ick from people waving and not getting a wave back.

[nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj]

Post Ptolemy's Gate ramble

So I just finished Ptolemy's Gate, thoughts are a bit all over the place and aside from mentioning the obvious I thought I'd dump some thoughts here.

Piper's apathy certainly shocked me. I know she's stressed running the council and she's got loads of organisation to do but oof she sure did come across as cold in her conversation with Kitty. Kitty has that kind of apathetic resignation of grief but it really felt like Piper had already put it behind her despite it only being two days before. Her boss that she worked for died horribly to save them all and she didn't even seem to share a quiet moment of grief with Kitty idk it just felt a little brutal 😅 I had an impression of her being really sweet so I was a bit taken aback.

One thing that really stood out to me was Nathaniel's apathy to the situation, I found it really interesting. I guess something could be said about it being the magician in him.

Nathaniel really has this duality to him, the obvious being Nat vs John Mandrake and of course Nat + Bartimaeus but in chapter 36 part ii something that caught my attention

'it was the feeling of consummate superiority, the delight of power weilded without peril. He danced beneath the night sky, smiting down his enemies.'

It already seems as if he's being elevated to something other- a martyr perhaps, except martyrs have causes and ideals, they do something because they have a strong belief in their justness. And Nathaniel:

'He felt aloof disconnected and alone. If his hatred for demons he had killed was dull and almost matter-of-fact, so was his sympathy for the people whose lives he saved.'

So he seems almost like an avenging angel, I love the religious imagery, especially because it seems to call back to Bartimaeus comparing his body to a holy mosque. But also divine rage is the driving force for an avenging angel and he's no longer even angry at the destruction caused.

'Pride spurred him on.' this almost makes him seem God-like?? His sole motivator is the pride of a deity, and I love that. But it's also just very true to him as a boy, pride spurred him on against Lovelace and against Duval and Whitwell.

When he's alone with Bartimaeus he's taken on this air of not being entirely human. He feels alone and solitary from everything including humaity. But when he rejoins Kitty, Piper and the rest of the magicians waiting for him he's reinvigorated - 'he felt a surge of joyful impatience - 'he would detroy Nouda, rescue the commoners and return to Kitty.' it seems as though he has to be surrounded by people to remind himself he's one of them. It could be seen as an effect of sharing a mind with Bartimaeus, but of course it could be Nathaniel's own human pride and his memories of being othered even as a child. Just gives the impression of this human / higher entity duality.

But also I partly got the impression that this hints to depression- I'm sure it's hardly out of the realm of possibility for Nat to have it. Though it's never stated I think several moments in the books make a good argument for it, including the above- just the numbness to everything. And I guess the sudden change in demeanor at 'surge of joyful impatience' can be read as hopefulness, but it reminded me of the saying that when people have decided to follow through on their s*icidal ideation they come across as happy and like a weight has been lifted from them. Nathaniel is impressively calm for someone who realises he's gravely injured. And while he can be seen as a martyr or hero for his final actions, the hollowness he felt at that moment gives it a more bitter edge.

I think it's made even more sad when compared to Anthony Lockwood, who has that same sense of pride - because he's trying to make his dead parents proud and because he's trying to hide the fact that he doesn't like himself very much. Nathaniel gives this same impression. And Lockwood at the end had reason to be proud, he uncovered a huge conspiracy, his agency became the most famous in London. And Nathaniel had reason to be proud; he's managing to wield the staff of his childhood hero, something he had dreamed of doing, he's had the bravery to unite with a spirit and he's going to take down the biggest threat to London.

But Lockwood gets something Nathaniel doesn't-

There's this subtle idea seen through Lucy's eyes that Lockwood's biggest achievement was fighting through his s*icidal ideation and discovering he has something to live for, even just seeing his friends again.

And Nathaniel just doesn't get that moment.

He sort of acknowledges that he doesn't have to be a powerful leader, that he doesn't need his colleagues approval, that he doesn't need to erase the fear the commoners have of him and other magicians, but without these things he doesn't know what to do with himself. He has no plan for the future, because even before he's injured the idea of a future doesn't seem to have much appeal to him. He already appears to have given up on trying to uncover who Nathaniel is, depite finally having the opportunity to. Like after everything- being beaten, the fear of his colleagues trying to harm him and burying himself in the John Mandrake persona to protect his sensitive side- he doesn't want to uncover the remnants of that boy because he's worried it'll be too difficult to put himself back together.

Or maybe he feels that he already has discovered who Nathaniel is, a deeply unhappy, hollow shell of a person, whose personality has been pulled in so many directions he no longer has a sense of self. He's been stripped back to the barest version of himself and found he doesn't even have the foundations upon which to rebuild himsef. Like discovering dry rot in your walls and you keep pulling and pulling bits of rotting wood away from the home until you've finally got it all, only to realise the house has come down around you- there's nothing left.

He doesn't get this moment where he works through his trauma, where he realises he has a support system, where he realises he's loved. I don't know if Nathaniel ever really knew what it felt like to be loved. I don't think he did. Ptolemy's death was awful and heartbreaking but his short life was filled with affection. And Lockwood realises people do care about him, depite being told that no one does. It hurts so much that Nat felt isolated and alone his whole life, right up to the last minute. Potential love confessions aside, Nathaniel never got a chance to sit and bathe in the warmness of affection. Like Bartimaeus tells him, it's about 'being not doing.' Nathaniel never got to understand the importance of just being, of simply existing as himself or of being happy. He constantly had to be working on the next goal, the next plan, because if he stops working he'll be forced to sit with his thoughts and realise how unhappy he is. And the thought of that is just too much to bear, it's so much easier to give in.

The ending gave the impression of being very romantic, while sad. Nathaniel gets to be remembered as a hero and never has to confront the consequences of his actions with wars in Europe and America that he had a direct role in. Acknowledging his role and dealing with fallout are two very different mountains to climb. And I think that idea of dying like a hero perfectly appeals to Nathaniel's prideful tendencies, and maybe he views it that way to hide the fact it's a convenient way out of his unhappiness and confronting what he's done. It's quite interesting to see that after he's been stripped back to nothing and can't figure out who or what he wants to be if he gets the chance, he still has that vanity and arrogance to him- despite not really being good character traits, they're so authentically Nathaniel, he's been that way right from the start and it's nice little peak of the real him at the end, being so humanly flawed.

[gros-chat-fait]

Spirits & Such Consultation, a.k.a a fake psychic and a bunch of actual psychics he adopts (most of whom are teenagers)