#hence the we claim three thing

[decarbry]

Hey all! This is going to be directed at a relatively small portion of my audience I think, but I've gotten a lot of interest over the last couple of years about SotP and if it'll be going back up online. I decided to make Tumblr the place for that! So if you're interested in Mon/Wed/Fri updates of the original comic, head on over to @weclaimthree.

It's unlikely I will be reblogging each page update here to my main blog, so definitely follow there if you want to see the pages as they come!

[indecisivemuch]

Apples

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You tossed an apple to Luke without knowing the meaning of it in Greek Mythology (fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: Just wanted to write something lighthearted and funny. Since I saw somewhere that apparently throwing an apple at someone means something in Greek Mythology, thought I should use it as a prompt.

Word count: 3.1k

You have been at Camp Half-Blood for a year. Within that time, you’ve been claimed by your Godly parent, learned so many things about Greek mythology, and, best of all, made friends who understood exactly what you were going through and all whom you loved dearly. 

One of them was Luke Castellan. You two were relatively close friends, though you swore he treated you differently than he would with others at camp. But you didn’t want to be foolish and assumed it was something. That didn’t mean you don’t treat him differently than you would with other campers though. You have always had a soft spot for Luke in your heart. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but you found yourself thinking about him too often.

“Anyway, Percy. Don’t worry too much, honestly. We all have been through what you’re currently going through. You’ll fit right in, yeah?” the younger boy offered you a lope-sided smile as you patted his back and stood up. 

“Alright, boys, I have to go now, but I’ll see you later,” you said before grabbing your plate, which would have been empty if it wasn’t for the apple you hadn’t eaten. The rest of the table - which included Chris, Luke, and Percy - said their goodbyes before chattering again as you walked away. However, you halted as you changed your mind about wasting the apple.

You turned back to look at the group before calling out, “Hey, Castellan.” However, you were slightly caught off guard to see Luke already having his eyes on you.

Luke swore that you have always had him mesmerized. If he even heard a whisper of your voice, his head would immediately try to locate you. To make matters worse, Chris even started calling Luke a “lost puppy” when he realized how your departure would always leave Luke like one. 

“Catch,” you tossed your apple at Luke. 

Multiple heads turned in your direction as the red apple hurled through the air before landing neatly in Luke’s hands. The Hermes cabin counselor had his eyes glued onto the fruit that was in his palms. You almost halted in your steps from his and other camper’s reactions. Some started whispering to their friends, pointing at you. You even heard one gasp. But you ignored them, finding it strange that people cared so much about such a small interaction.

“You can have it. I don’t think I’ll have time to eat it,” with that, you vanished from the scene, leaving at least half of the camp agape, including Luke and your friends. 

Then, the strangest of things happened for the next few days. It started with Luke already stationed outside when you exited your cabin the morning after. He cheekily presented you with one singular flower in his hand, and you took it with playful words, “Ooh, what did I do to deserve this special treatment today?”

“Nothing, just thought I should show how much I appreciate you,” Luke put his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the dining pavilion. You could feel your cheeks flushing at his action. He has never done this before. With his arms around you, the sides of your bodies brushed as the two of you walked. You noticed almost immediately how every other person would have their eyes on the two of you. But you ignored the attention and focused on Luke instead.

The sweet actions didn’t stop at flowers or more physical touches. For the next three days, Luke was stuck to your hip. So it was quite strange that you have not spotted the Hermes cabin counselor in the last two hours. Hence why you were spending some time with Clarisse, another close friend of yours. However, you felt an arm swinging around your shoulders, and you instantly recognized who it was from the familiar touch.

“Hey, Clarisse, can I borrow Y/N real quick?” Luke asked, quickly muttering a “thank you” when your friend nodded. “So, I have something to give you…” your face must have shown how surprised you were because he chuckled at your reaction. However, when the boy pulled his gift out from his cargo pocket, your mouth fell slightly agape at the reveal. 

Luke must have misinterpreted your reaction because he started nervously rambling, his voice a few octaves higher, “It’s not much, but honestly, this is all I can do with my arts and crafts skills. I’m just not really good with that y-”

“It’s perfect, Luke. Thank you so much!” you gave him a brief hug, but it was enough to stun him for a second. Luke felt this urgent sense of craving from how your bodies fit for a second. It’s as if he was made to hold you. He almost pulled you back into another hug but had to force himself to regain composure. Nevertheless, that didn’t last long because his eyes softened again at the sight of you trying on the bracelet he made. The beads in your favorite color, crafted with care, wrapped around your wrist perfectly, and you wonder how he knew just the right size to make it.

The truth was Luke had to ask Clarisse to steal one of your bracelets just so he could make a bracelet of the correct size. But you didn't need to know that, though - according to him.

The next night, there was a social gathering near the campfire. Luke reapproached the location with a hoodie in hand. Earlier, Luke excused himself to fetch the clothing item that was now in his hand that was meant for you. However, his brows scrunched as he spotted another figure next to you, sitting in the spot that he previously occupied. You were laughing at something they said. The way your laugh echoed in his head usually sounded like a lullaby or the enchanting voice of a siren. But right now, the idea that someone else elicited the same laugh made him want to hurl behind the bush he was standing next to.

Little did he know you were zoning out from whatever the other boy was speaking about, thus the fake laugh to not blow your cover. You were distracted just thinking about Luke and everything he has done so far - offering his portion of dessert to you because he knew it was your favorite; him winning Capture the Flag and ignoring everybody else to go hug you first, then having his eyes on you and only you afterwards; sneaking out of camp to go buy the items you mentioned once that you wish you had at camp and so on. 

Your mind quickly reminded you that the boy sitting next to you was still talking to you. However, when you snapped out of your thoughts again, you realized now he was looking at you expectantly and you scrambled your mind for a reply.

Thank Gods Luke plopped down on your other side, saving you from having to admit to the other boy that you were not listening to him. “Hey, you’re back,” you commented. Luke’s arm automatically threw itself around your shoulder and tugged you to him slightly. Your body leaned on the Hermes cabin counselor ever so naturally at this before you turned to him. Luke quickly set his clothing on your lap, and you stared at it questioningly.

“You’re cold, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” your cheeks flushed again at how he knew without you telling him. You shivered maybe once or twice earlier due to the night air lowering the temperature, but it was so brief you were sure nobody had noticed. As you put on the hoodie, Luke averted his gaze from you to the guy on your other side. 

The Hermes cabin counselor arched one of his eyebrows in a challenging manner. Almost immediately, his ‘opponent’ slightly raised both of his hands. Luke internally snickered at the quick motion of surrender. 

“My bad, man,” you heard the other boy say as you managed to put your head through the clothing item and pull it down. Luke was physically preening at the other boy’s words and departure. Meanwhile, you were distracted by how you were engulfed by the smell of Luke from his hoodie. Your height difference also meant you were swimming in it, but it felt so comfortable.

“What was that?” you asked once the other boy was gone. 

“Nothing…” even the most oblivious person could see that Luke was lying. But, once again, you did not question his actions and carried on with the gathering. You could also feel other campers staring at the two of you, but you ignored that as well. 

That night - like every other night since four days ago - he walked you back to your cabin. You were honestly completely smitten by the attention he has given you, not that you would admit that to him. You were still not sure what caused the change, but you were still elated about it. Maybe he did return your feelings? Either way, everything felt perfect lately, and you went to sleep that night feeling like the stars aligned for you.

“I guess congratulations are in order?” Percy spoke up as you lined up for food the following day. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the plate of food. Today’s meal consisted of mac n’ cheese, steak, and an apple. 

“You’re engaged?” you almost dropped your plate at that and gave the son of Poseidon a questioning look. “You proposed to Luke like a week ago?”

“What? When?”

“When you threw him the apple? That is considered a marriage proposal.”

“Since when?”

“Uh, in Ancient Greek culture, it’s considered a marriage proposal if a man throws an apple at a lady. But, I mean, it’s the 21st century, so I guess it can work both ways.” Percy finally took a plate of food for himself. “And if the recipient catches it, it’s considered an acceptance.”

“You saw this and knew this whole time without telling me?!?” 

“I thought you knew! And you two seem so smitten already, so I thought you did it on purpose.”

“Percy, no! Is this a well-known thing? Do you think other people who saw it too thought I proposed to Luke as well?” Seeing Percy’s look and how he was fumbling with his words, you quickly requested, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.” 

The two of you walked over to Luke and Chris with plates in hand. You picked up the apple on your plate and placed it on the table. 

“Luke, we need to talk,” You deliberately placed the fruit there, hoping the boy would get a hint about the topic you wanted to discuss. Luke’s eyes flicked from the fruit to you. Though the hint of amusement in his eyes and a sheepish grin made you realize he knew all along. Luke stood up and followed you out of sight and hearing distance from other campers whose eyes were trailing after the two of you.

“You knew what it meant, and you didn’t tell me?” You broke the silence as soon as you two were far away enough. 

“Listen, I appreciate your proposal. But, it’s a little bit fast, don’t you think?” Luke teased, and you instantly hit his arm at that, causing the boy to flinch slightly, but the smile on his face told you he was anything but mad at your action.

“But you caught it. So, technically, you said yes,” you rebutted, sighing as you rubbed your face, “My Gods, does everybody at camp think we’re engaged? Wait, is this a substitute for an engagement ring? Did you give this to me because of that?” you pointed to the bracelet Luke gave you, your mind now understanding Clarisse’s teasing and her implications. You could see the way Luke was stifling a laugh. He settled with saying something else when he saw the pure panic on your face.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” the nickname successfully silenced you. You hated how it made you feel, but you would not mind hearing that daily. “No, it’s not an engagement ring.”

“Oh, so were you doing all of these romantic gestures and gifts on purpose to make fun of me and the situation?” you asked, though it was more with a lighthearted tone than one of temper. However, something shifted because the expression on Luke’s face changed from one of humor to earnestness.

“No, I didn’t do all this to make fun of the situation or you…” Luke’s voice fell off as tried to find the right words to say next. In that split second, Luke took a deep breath, and you could see how nervous he suddenly became, though he still kept a light tone. “I did it because I took it as a chance to maybe…win you over, and it also gives me an advantage because it fended off many other guys.” 

Undoubtedly, you were frozen in place, unable to register the words he was saying and the implications they bear. Neither did the boy in front of you act like the Luke you usually know - somebody who was usually confident, outgoing, always having his way with words. No, the person in front of you could not even hold eye contact, the pink hue on his cheeks now spreading to the tip of his ears as he shifted left and right. Luke broke the silence first, giving away the nerves that were gnawing him away from your lack of response.

“How about this? I’ll say ‘no’ to your mind-blowing marriage proposal for now,” you lightheartedly hit him again, rolling your eyes playfully. Seeing a positive reaction from you, Luke let out a small breath of relief, but the nerves quickly overtook again as he mustered up all the courage to utter his counter proposal: “But maybe we could start with something slower like going on a date? — Or I’ll even settle with you allowing me to try and ‘woo’ you.” Luke added the last bit as insurance, in case you didn’t want to take up on the date. Part of his mind wanted to scowl at himself for seeming so desperate - but Gods, he has always been a desperate man when it comes to you. 

“You’re such a dork.”

“Yet you still proposed to me.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Luke only shook his head in response. Once again, you haven’t responded to his offer. Luke could see that you were in deep thought, the cogs turning in your head as you digested what he just said.

“You mean it? That you wanna go on a date? That you wanna “woo” me and sweep me off my feet?” you questioned. Despite the humor in your voice, there was also a hint of vulnerability and cautiousness. “Does this mean what you’ve been doing for the past few days…they are all genuine?”

“Is it that hard to believe that I like you? I don’t think you even fully understand the feelings I have for you. I’ve had my eyes on you for a year now, which is the entire time I know you, and I’m afraid I can’t see that changing any time soon.” Luke had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying more because he was sure he would never stop talking about you if he could. Maybe those unspoken words ought to be things Luke would disclose in the future. If you give him the chance, he will ensure you hear everything he adored about you.

“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause I happen to like you too,” your words made Luke’s eyes snap to yours, almost in disbelief. 

Luke felt as if his heart was blocking his airway by the way it was thumping so hard in his chest to the point he could feel the vibration in his neck. He held his breath over your confession and the way you were looking at him. Oh, Luke was convinced he was utterly doomed because how could he be so affected by one single look. He was suddenly unsure whether he would be able to handle your affections or ever live without it if it was taken from him. He’d spend the rest of eternity like a deprived man.

“Aw, look who is nervous now,” you teased, deciding to somewhat torture him and get him back for teasing you earlier. “I did not think I had this kind of effect on you, Castellan,” you approached him slowly, keeping eye contact with his now dilated pupils. 

“I mean…all I did was say a couple of words and you’re all tongue tied. What would happen to you if I do this?” you swiftly grabbed Luke’s camp beads and pulled him down, eliminating a significant amount of space between your faces, though not completely. To steady himself during your action, Luke’s hands steadied on your hips and stumbled slightly, though you did not mind the touch.

You never knew it was possible for his face to flush even more, but it did. Luke gulped and your eyes casted down on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he did so. The way he reacted to you only intoxicated you with power even more. You glanced upwards a bit, eyes observing his lips for a split second before looking back up at his eyes. You smirked when you caught his eyes flickering back to yours from your lips as well. 

Just as you were about to close the distance, Luke pulled back just a bit, finally able to speak, though his words were heavy warnings, “If this happens—” Luke stopped, unsure he should let you know. Luke shook his head lightly as his eyes traced over your features before continuing, “If we kiss, there is no going back for me. I don’t think I could just…forget about it. So, please, just be sure before you do it.” Your eyes softened at his words.

“I promise, Luke. I am sure,” you muttered, though Luke knew you meant the words by heart from the way you were looking at him. 

You finally pulled the boy down again using his camp necklace. 

As your lips touched Luke’s, he let out a content sigh. His hands clung onto your hips, pulling you flush against his own body while you caressed both sides of his face in your hands. Luke felt like the world was swallowing him whole. The boy now knew what your lips tasted like, and it felt like an addiction. He could feel his heart waving white flags at that moment, completely surrendering to you. He was right before. There was no going back from this. 

But oh, if Luke knew an apple was all it took, he would have tossed one to you himself.

----------------------

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist

taglist: @nininehaaa @perseus-jackass @tanifsblog @bubbly0 @hinata7346 @justanotherkpopstanlol @mysteris-things @randomgurl2326 @star611 @2hiigh2cry @seriously-slytherin22 @spideytingley @blondervoi @stuffyownswrld @fantasticchaosthing @amortencjja @chunkiwhunki @bookwormlu @crack240 @fandomthings-blog @sh0-ya @milkncookies143 @burdeningbitch @bugcuti3 @alexisishaunted @lilacspider @olivegirl123 @nellyjan-th @kehlanislefttoe @awenthealchemist @intergalactic-padawan @ricciardolover @whorecruxfortom @locknco @vanessa-rafesgirl

[robertreich]

No Labels Isn't What It Claims to Be

The “No Labels” Party is not what it pretends to be. It’s a front group for Donald Trump.

Now I understand, if you’re sick of the two major parties, you might be intrigued by a party that claims to be a “common sense” alternative that finds the middle ground.

But if you or anyone in your life is planning to vote for No Labels — or any third party — in 2024, please watch and share this video first.

Here are three things you need to know.

First, No Labels is a dark money group with secret far-right donors. Investigative reporting has revealed that they include many of the same Republican donors who have pumped huge sums of money into electing candidates like Trump and Ron DeSantis. They also include the rightwing billionaire Harlan Crow, who spent years secretly treating Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas to a lifestyle of the rich and famous.

If the No Labels Party is backed by Trump donors, in an election where Trump is on the ballot, there’s actually a label we should give to “No Labels.” Clearly, they’re a pro-Trump group.

Second, the premise No Labels is based on — that Donald Trump and President Biden are at equally extreme ends of the political spectrum — is preposterous.

Trump has been impeached twice, found by a jury to have committed sexual assault, is facing 91 criminal charges in four separate cases — two of them in connection with an attempt to effectively end American democracy.

There is no “equally extreme” candidate as Trump!

Finally, the structure of the Electoral College means that as a practical matter, a third party only draws votes away from whichever major party candidate is closest to it. No third party candidate has ever won a presidential election.

And in this particular election, when one of the major parties is putting up a candidate who threatens democracy itself, we cannot take the risk.

Donald Trump has already tried to overturn one election and suggested suspending the Constitution to maintain power. It is no exaggeration to say that if he takes the White House again, there may not ever be another free and fair election.

Democracy won by a whisker in the last presidential election. Just 44,000 votes in Arizona, Georgia, and Wisconsin — less than one tenth of 1 percent of the total votes cast nationwide — were the difference between the Biden presidency and a tie in the Electoral College that would have thrown the election to the House of Representatives, and hence to Trump.

If candidates from No Labels— or any other third party, like the Green Party or the Libertarian Party —  peel off just a fraction of the anti-Trump vote from Biden, while Trump voters stay loyal to him, Trump could win the top five swing states comfortably and return to the Oval Office. And No Labels’ own polling shows they would do just that!

Let me be absolutely clear. Third-party groups like No Labels are in effect front groups for Trump in 2024, and should be treated as such.

The supposed “centrism” No Labels touts is nonsense. There is no middle ground between democracy and fascism.

Please share this video and spread the word.

[querenciasturniolo]

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

[nexusnyx]

imagine being loved by me

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 6 — The night we said goodbye. [“This is harder than I thought it’d be.”] [2.5k]

— joel miller x f!reader — a/n: this is mostly fluff and angst, hence the lack of warnings. i hope you guys enjoy this even though there's no smut. there are a lot of feelings to make up for that? anyway, i just wanted to imagine being loved by Joel (in the given canon circumstances) and this is what I came up with. enjoy <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | part two →

"Eternal tourists of ourselves, there is no landscape but what we are. We possess nothing, for we don't even possess ourselves. We have nothing because we are nothing. What hand will I reach out, and to what universe? The universe isn't mine: it's me," you stop there, uncertain and nervous for more than one reason. "You want me to go on?"

Joel only grunts beneath you, and the palm he has wrapped around your calf starts rubbing there. He's a man of very few words — always has been — but you recognize his cues. Go on, the circles on your skin say. And — "I like it a lot when you read," he speaks, startling you for a second. "'s nice."

Three years since you've been doing this — years, and this is the night Joel chooses to speak his mind.

You grit your teeth and put on a smile, no matter how much it aches to do so. "Look at you, borrowing Pessoa's ability to use words 'n all," you tease.

Joel pinches your inner thigh — a warning.

You take one of your hands out of the book to poke his side — I'm not scared of you. Never was. Never could be.

Even if he's about to break your heart.

You continue reading.

He keeps on drinking it in, and you wonder not for the first time if Joel hears a word that comes out of his mouth or if this is just white noise for him.

I like it a lot when you read.

Inside your chest there's a special place saved only for the things Joel gives you as a gift.

There's no space for material things in the world you live in now. Being a man of very few words, you learned how to read Joel Miller from the moment you met him — a useful skill, one that came in handy over the past few years. People misread him a lot. Mostly because he allowed them to; sometimes because he wanted it that way.

They thought Joel was gruff. Callused.

You knew better.

Joel's body language never lied.

He gifted you things that way — a shrug of his shoulders that hid the fathom of a smile creeping up his face. His furrowed brows pierced together whenever someone spoke in louder tones in your presence. The ghost of his hand hovering over your back in between meetings, or the way he never looked you in the eye before kissing you.

All of them signs. All of them a way for him to communicate.

That was funny. I don't like their tone. I've got your six.

I can't let you see within me.

Joel might as well be an open book.

When Tess introduced the both of you, she said, "Just don't gain expectations. He's like us — lost everything. But he's a decent man, which is more than we can say about half of the people that made it."

A decent man was an understatement.

He was everything and then some in between.

Joel kept it simple when telling you that he and Tess had to leave.

Neither one of them owed you explanations, but they gave you one either way. The three of you ran something together — an illegal, dangerous, and fragile something, but it was yours. Built it from your hands.

They claimed you were the brains.

"You gotta stay," Joel stated. Not a request, and nothing in his eyes that said this is open for conversation. "Marlene gave us very little info. We'll try to make it back as soon as we can."

The implicate we don't know if we'll make it back was there.

You never missed the unspoken words.

"Okay," you agreed, because there was nothing else for you to do.

Tess had left with the kid. She hugged you, giving you the full list of contacts that would be seeing you for things, and said, "Take care of yourself" in the way she always did.

Joel stayed behind to collect what he needed, and because he said a day wouldn't make a difference.

Was it over-confident on your part to allow the fluttering in your chest to take full form after seeing him drop his things on your hardwood floor and ask you to go for a walk? Was it wishful thinking to know he was stealing moments?

The familiar sight of his back gives you comfort as you follow him.

That's the way it's always been — you always knew that one day, you'd see this for the last time.

Maybe it's a small mercy that they're leaving.

It's been years—much longer than you initially thought you'd have, much longer than you prayed for after the first night Joel knocked on your bedroom door seeking the comfort he saw in your eyes you were dying to give him, much longer than you dreamed you would have amidst all the chaos.

He walks through the broken gate and keeps the wire lifted for you to pass.

Those things — the little things no one pays attention to.

"Thanks," you smile at him.

He hums as an answer and keeps walking by your side until you're both on the open field. After checking the area, Joel lays down with a grunt, patting the grass next to him.

That's when you started reading.

He just pulls out the book from his backpack and hands it to you.

Read for me, please.

"From where we left off, or you want me to go back a few?" Sometimes, Joel fell asleep mid-chapter. He liked when you went back a few so he never missed a thing.

He shakes his head. "I was listenin'," he lets you adjust yourself on the tree, and lays with his head on his backpack, pulling your legs over his body. Cradling your calf in his palms. "Go on."

So you do.

The sky is losing its light by the time Joel takes his arm out of his eyes, and puts a hand in front of the pages.

You bookmark it, even if he'll never hear the end of it.

For some reason, you stay quiet with him.

Usually, the silence is filled with you — your ramblings, questions about the world from before, silly musings that he indulges in listening to.

There's something tragic about being alive nowadays.

It's not really living — it's this. Reading between the lines, and claiming your stomach is satisfied because of the crumbs.

Joel's hand caressing your skin was a whole meal.

His eyes on you, above everything else, were like water.

When he speaks, it's gruff. "You gonna take care of yourself while I'm gone, right?"

If one day you held back, today is not it. "I will. Can't undo all your hard work."

He frowns, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, c'mon, Joel. It's just us. You and I both know I'd never be alive if it weren't for you and Tess."

"Bullshit. You're the—"

"Brains, I know," you interrupt. "But without the brawn, the brains can't make it that far."

He scoffs at that, and you realize your mistake only when the words are out. "Think we both know nature said that ain't the case anymore."

"Stupid nature," you curse without any heat, and it works. Joel's lip twitches, itching for a smile. "All it's good for is being gorgeous."

"Hm. That'd be you."

Well. They aren't the first nice words Joel's ever said to you, but they make up an even bigger space than everything else. The little box in your chest engraved with J.M. is blanketed in those three little words, and judging by the way he ducks his chin and looks down, Joel noticed his slip up a heartbeat too late.

"Are you gonna take care of yourself?" you ask, nudging his side.

Joel sits up before he answers, taking the place next to you. Then, he spreads his legs and pats the ground between them, and you take the invitation.

Sitting with your back to his chest and his arms around you is your favorite place to be, and something clutches at your throat at the realization this might be the last time.

"I always do," he finally answers.

Your throat is tight, so you place both hands over his arms and pull them tighter around you. "Good," your voice drops to a whisper. "Can't let stupid nature have you."

"She gets us all in the end."

"I know that. I meant before your due time," you insist.

Joel's only half-listening. When he starts rubbing his nose on your hair, tracing the outline of your ears, that means his attention is divided. "How d'you know when's one's due time?"

"Hell if I know. But I know it's not now."

"Yes, ma'am," he plants a kiss on your neck, and you forget words for a while.

Joel always knew how to do that.

He kissed you awake, and sometimes, he kissed you to sleep.

It was common for the two of you to just sit and exist in silence. In a world where there wasn't much space for anything — not for words, or feelings, or relationships, or growth — having this was out of the curve. Having comfort.

He never tensed around you.

When it's just the two of you, Joel's body is the most relaxed; whether it's due to your hands squeezing his muscles or the way you run your palms through his skin to bring him back to himself—he's at ease.

Laid back, shoulders slack. He keeps on leaving kisses across your neck and nape, and you keep your eyes closed, enjoying the proximity. Your nails run through his forearms, and eventually, Joel just stops there in the crook of your neck, breathing slowly.

He asks, "D'you mind if I take your bandana? The purple one?"

Your favorite bandana. His 'lucky charm', as he'd called it once. "No, you can have it."

"You ain't gonna miss it?"

I'll miss you, Joel. A piece of cloth makes no difference in my life. "You need the good luck charm more than me."

"Is that so?"

You scoff, "I'm not the one walking head-first into danger." Craning your neck to look at his face, you lean your head on his shoulder. Joel's face is impassive as always, aside from the little pinch between his brows. "It's your good luck charm, isn't it?"

"It is," he replies, faster than you're used to. A smile grows back on your face. "What?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "Just — didn't think you'd ever say that again."

He shrugs his shoulders. "'s the truth."

"What made it lucky?"

Joel takes a second with that one. His hand around your upper body finds the collar of your shirt, and he plays with it. He's nervous, and you have no idea why. He shrugs as he says, "Dunno."

Bullshit. "Hmm — something tells me you do."

"Yeah?" he's smiling now.

"Yup," you press, popping the 'p'. Joel stops fighting his smile, and you want to kiss him, so you do. Most of the time, you use restraints around him. Now is not the time for restraint. "Tell me," you plea.

He sighs, the smile still on his face. "That first time I was trying to find alternative routes in and out of the QZ, remember?"

"Yeah."

"So — I'd lost my way. Some Clickers found me and I had to run. Lost my shit—dropped some of the stuff in my bag. I only found my way back 'cause two days later I tried the bridge over the place I got lost at initially and — there it was." Joel's fingertips are tracing your collarbones, and you realize now his body around you is the only thing keeping you from a collapse. "I saw that ugly thing from far, far away."

It makes you laugh — of course he's going to play it cool, make it less of what it is.

You get it. If you had to talk about the things that brought you a sense of home, the only thing that came to mind was the smell of Joel's deodorant mixed with the innate smell of him.

You hide your laugh in his chest, and Joel's hands come up to your nape and the back of your head.

The hurt bubbles up with his touch — you want to drown in your own tears, but he's still here and that would be going before your due time.

"Please be safe." It's rare for you to use the space between the lines, but sometimes you have to.

Please be safe because I need you. Because you've grown inside me. Because the smell of you are vines covering every inch of my ribcages, because every time I wake up and you're lying next to me I remember why we're humans, because Fernando Pessoa might have been right that we possess nothing, but what I am is someone who still knows love.

"I will." Joel heard it all. He pulls your head back to look into your eyes and you see it in his — through the guarded walls of his soul, you get a peak at the man who worries. Who always brings you coffee, who never allowed you to go on dangerous runs, who trusts you to keep his radio codes in case his brother calls for him. You're the lighthouse, he once said. Joel's hand keeps making a mess of your hair, and he looks like he wants to say something, but ultimately, he huffs. "This is harder than I thought it'd be."

"Of course it is," you laugh. "I'm the only one that knows how to make a decent cup of coffee. Or at least, one that you like."

That's when he kisses you.

Because it's true. Not the cup of coffee — Tess can do that as well, even if she never does, but the reality that you're the only one that can and wants to.

The only one who's allowed it.

Living in a world that has no space for living is difficult, but Joel manages to fit the whole human experience in the span of a kiss and some touches.

He's kept you safe, and guarded, and gave you blinks and pieces of the man he once was in return for all that you've given him.

He loves quietly, and kisses hard, and protects with every cell in his body — Joel still loves, even if the word's been burned out of his tongue when he held the most precious life known to him in his arms.

He loves, and you feel it, and you'll miss it.

Joel pulls back with a promise in his eyes that he will be back.

If he isn't, you'll be a moving lighthouse. You'll find him.

☆ join my writing challenge ☆

[knightofmordred]

i saw someone say merlin and gwen had tension when gwen became queen due to her position in power and that's the status merlin wanted (with arthur), all i can say is what kind of show did you watch ???

but no let's actually talk about it.

a lot of fans claim that merlin and gwen grew apart when she became queen or that she didn't treat him as she used to. first of all, you have got to remember that gwen didn't have much screentime in general in season five. not to mention the fact that pretty much everyone had their character forgotten and their relations (for example, we hardly got any gwaine and merlin!).

majority of the time, certain scenes in season five are given as examples to show that merlin and gwen grew apart (with the blame being on gwen). one of those scenes was when she asked merlin to run her a bath.

a lot of fans forget that's literally merlin's job? he is quite literally paid to service the king (and now the queen).

merlin came into gwen's service when sefa betrayed her. sefa, who was supposed to be the closest person to the queen. not only was she there to assist gwen in daily/household tasks, but once she settled into her role, she would have also been handling gwen's royal + state affairs. i have often questioned why they didn't give gwen someone else, but thinking about it more, it makes sense why - gwen had already gone through so much betrayal and the situation with sefa also showed there would always be a risk of that - hence why she now had no one to be her maid.

this ties into point two tbh because gwen also witnessed people trying to kill arthur in different ways - one being when merlin was enchanted. so it makes more sense to ask your most trusted friend to carry out tasks (that they're paid to do anyway).

i understand the point some people make - it's weird to suddenly be commanding your best friend to do things for you. but fans also forget there were three years of gwen being queen which we didn't see! gwen was a maid herself and came from a low income family. she had never reached that level of status before she was married.

do you seriously believe that she wouldn't have struggled in her new role? that she didn't struggle asking people to do things for her? that she so easily assimilated into her role as queen with authority? and do you seriously believe that merlin didn't encourage and support her through this? that it is likely he was the one who helped gwen feel more at ease of people doing things for her?

there is only "tension" there because you make it so. the same way fans do with anything that comes to gwen. you pluck things out of thin air because you simply do not look at gwen as a character, just someone in the way of what you want.

Edit: I completely forgot Gwen was enchanted when she asked Merlin to run her a bath with the intention of Daegal trying to lure him into a trap. Thanks op in the tags!

[princessbrunette]

FAQ ໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა

frequently asked questions ♡ i will continue to add to this as more pop up. be sure to check this page before asking something to see if it’s already been answered !!

what is bunny/puppy/kitty/deer!reader?

no, she is not really an animal. the reason they are related to ‘animals’ in their description, is because of the personalities i have picked out for them. bunny!reader is spoiled, prissy, soft, needy — much like a bunny, hence her nickname. kitty!reader is sleepy, often has an attitude, a little weird in nature — like a kitty. puppy!reader is energetic, excitable, loving, sensitive — like a puppy. deer!reader is skittish, easily frightened, curious, intelligent — like a deer. they are 100% human, and although i have no issue with hybrid!readers i just don’t write it! hope this clears things up.

is it okay for me to write for an au you created?

absolutely! i love seeing everyone’s interpretations of the little universes i made up !! it feels like a little fanfic of a fanfic which just blows my mind. however, please give clear credit in your description — and if you want, a lil heads up !! i’m friendly i swear hehe <3

why am i blocked?

the only time i block people — is if i feel they have crossed my boundaries (they’re a minor, blatant copying, asking questions that are way too personal and make me uncomfortable, spamming my asks a crazy amount, you’ve been openly talking badly about me) that, and if you sent me hate. so if you’re blocked unless it’s been a huge misunderstanding it’s likely to stay that way, sorry !!

if my request isn’t answered, can i send it to another writer?

if enough time has passed and you’re pretty sure i either haven’t seen your request / am not going to write it — i have no problem with it at all !! keep in mind that i sometimes save requests to my drafts and they stay there for quite some time — but if that’s the case, it would be on me if you sent it to someone else and i was planning on answering cos i kept it in the vault for so long !!

will you ever write for anakin, leon kennedy, miguel etc again?

probably not unfortunately! writing for them was how this blog started out, but this blog has pretty much turned completely into an obx blog and unless something changes it’s staying like that :) my kinktober with writings for all of those characters is still linked in my navi for nostalgia purposes!

why can’t i claim the 🎀 anon?

as cute as the emoji is and i totally understand the want for it to be your sign off emoji, it’s the emoji i use to tag my personal / random posts with — and because the tumblr tagging system can be total poopoo they’ll probably cross over and it’ll get messy n confusing. there’s lots of other cute emojis !!

do you write for the obx girls?

nope, sorry! though i am bisexual, and the girls in the show are absolutely jaw droppingly gorgeous and i love them a lot — none of them are really my type and i find it difficult to write for characters i’m not personally attracted to!

do you have any other social media’s we can follow?

my three tumblrs are available to follow — this one, @balletbunnie (princess aesthetic blog + occasional personal posts), @brunettebun (porn visual / text post blog) other than that no i’m sorry! there is currently a pinterest account with my username attached, but it’s not me lol.

how can i find out what type of reader i am?

just whatever one you resonate with! i see myself in all the readers, but i identify the most as bunny!reader. i made a quiz to make it easier — check it out right here !!

[transmutationisms]

do you think the subconscious/unconscious ‘mind’ is a qualifiable mechanism (like, ‘is it real’ lol)? i’m curious about its origins and whether it started as some kind of para-psychological metaphor (a la Jung) that kind of took on a life of its own within a more medical context.

sooo there are a couple different ways i would approach this.

one is, like you suggest, the idea of 'subconscious' or 'unconscious' phenomena (i believe these terms first appeared around the same time, the early 18th century, and have always had a lot of overlap with one another) certainly made early appearances in psychological discourses that were not (overtly) medical. in these contexts, afaik, people weren't really talking about an unconscious or a subconscious—distinct entities with some kind of biological or metaphysical demarcation from other aspects of mental life—they were more talking about thoughts, ideas, or cognitive processes that occur without deliberate direction or even knowledge. so, an object that's making an impression on my sensory organs right now is most likely something i'm conscious of; a memory of an entirely different object i perceived three months ago is probably being 'preserved' (more metaphorical language lol... psychology is lousy with it) without my conscious intent, hence subconsciously or unconsciously. but this category would also include things like my knowledge of how to direct my muscles, language i've acquired, other skills, memories, bodily functions that are related to my nervous system, and so forth. there is more than a whiff of faculty psychology embedded in here, but it's not an overtly medical construction the way psychiatry becomes later.

two, even just pointing out a shift from non-medical psychology to medical psychology is still not quite capturing the full weirdness of what happened during the 18th to mid 20th centuries, because the medicalisation of psychology took a while and started relatively early (certainly by the late 18th century it was underway) but medicine itself was also undergoing some critical changes at the time. i would argue that, despite a clear lockean influence, those very early formulations of subconscious and unconscious processes also have certain roots in vitalist discourses, maybe especially in the french and german contexts, and as we start to see the shift to medical discourse about the unconscious as a kind of sub-entity of the mind-or-brain, we're also seeing much more flagrant mechanistic metaphors. so in some sense, already there's a break here that's being obscured by the language-game of hanging onto an existing term but deploying it in a pretty critically different way. i am not totally confident about this but my sense is that a lot of very early users of the terms 'unconscious'/'subconscious' would have had pretty strenuous objections to some of this later discursive reification of the subconscious or unconscious entity.

three, although medicine is a critical piece of this puzzle, the other major one i would say is evolutionary theory. by the turn of the 20th century, and certainly into the early 20th century, the idea of an unconscious or subconscious mind was very frequently and even explicitly invoked as not just a distinct mental apparatus, but specifically one considered to be 'primitive', like a kind of ancient or primordial part of the mind/brain. (this is i think in some tension with freud's use of the concept of repression as generally accompanying and arising as a result of civilisation and social mores... but freud and evolutionary thinking is a whole other topic, lol). in its most extreme form this type of claim ends up feeding into things like evo-psych claims about the so-called 'lizard brain' (i am looking at bessel van der kolk unblinking) or generally the particular narrativisations around the limbic system as a kind of 'primal' interior brain, responsible for certain bodily processes, involuntary atavistic fear-responses, &c, contrasted to the more recently evolved outer gray matter. the valences attributed to certain neurological structures and processes justified with an evolutionary story (virtually always a teleological one) is, i think, really critical to unpack how the concept of the unconscious/subconscious has come to be used. and, again, this is all just fundamentally different to the earliest usages (that i know of) of these terms, not least because evolutionary hypotheses really were not taken seriously until the mid-late 18th century (and then sporadically, locally, and with difficulty), and certainly were not foundational elements of the kinds of psychological discourses that posited unconscious or subconscious activities.

of course none of this inherently discredits the idea that the unconscious is (a) 'real' (mechanism). but if someone wanted to defend that hypothesis they would probably want to come up with some anatomical propositions that just... haven't really materialised (surprise) and i do think it bears on this discussion that historically, unconsciousness and subconsciousness have really been largely narrative inventions or metaphors used to make sense of mental life, to the point where the terms really have meant numerous different things since their inception and have never had any serious correlation with anatomical structures, organs, tissues, &c.

i would also say that like... whether or not the subconscious or unconscious are 'real' in this mechanical sense isn't necessarily the same as whether the concepts have utility; an awful lot of science runs on exploiting a metaphor or model until for various reasons it's replaced by a different one. i would say though that it is a hindrance to scientific study if these metaphors are presented as being something other than metaphorical—like for instance if the mechanical reality of the unconscious is presumed because expressed in suitably scientific language, and then justified with post hoc circular logic.

so i suppose the short version of my answer is: i don't think the unconscious/subconscious have a historically stable meaning; to the extent that they have a contemporary stable meaning, i don't think they have a corresponding 'real' mechanical cause or instantiation; and although i'm sceptical of their utility in psychological study on these grounds, i'm not categorically opposed and would leave that to other people to sort out.

[taranida]

Tom the Poet or Tom the Filmmaker

I would like all my theories to have evidence that back them up. I’ve come from fandoms where things said are a cute thing, worth considering, but solid theorising comes with quotes, screenshots, counting toes and following the writer’s pattern of three hint and foreshadowings before the big reveal. Therefore, I’m going through the first game yet again to collect all this information and put it in something coherent, something I will be happy with. I hope that the waves of my research will carry me to the proper essay with all the proofs necessary on every statement I’ve made in my first pinned post.

But there are still questions that have no answers as far as I know. One of them: why Tom Zane was made into a filmmaker and by whom?

In Control’s AWE the cutscene where Tom and Alan meet is a toned-down version of their encounter in Room 665. Alan asks if Tom is the Tom, the poet and the diver and Tom replies that it was just a beloved character in his old film. They have the same conversation at the start of Room 665 in Alan Wake II.

Alan seemed always forget that he (or someone else) changed Tom’s identity to filmmaker, still convinced that Thomas Zane he encountered at the start of his journey was a poet and a diver. First, when Tom-the-filmmaker was introduced, I thought that Alan forgot who Zane was and what he learned about him (I wouldn’t put it past Alan: he forgot many things he wrote, even his birthdate somewhat slipped his mind — in 2010 or in the Dark Place; the guide for the first game states that he’s 31, when the statue near the Parliament Tower claims he was born in 1977), but in both cases he kept insisting that Tom was a poet. So, the opposite is true: Alan forgot that Tom now is a filmmaker.

But why is Tom made to be a filmmaker? Even the second game insists that the Tom was a poet: Cynthia notes this in her journal, marvelling at why everyone thinks that he was a filmmaker; even the boys of Old Gods of Asgard say “you need him [Tom] to write the ending,” “art, like Tom’s writing” and “it’s Tom’s story we are dealing with, he’s gotta be the one to rewrite it”. And they are the only three people who knew the real Tom Zane and have some credibility in what he really was: a poet or a filmmaker.

The boys, of course, are a discussion on their own; Tom and Alan are interchangeable in their heads, they might talk about Alan the writer, hence “write, writing, story, rewrite”, but Cynthia has no such issues. She never mistook Alan for Tom, she loved Tom her whole life, devoted to his wishes and for sure wouldn’t mess such a big part of his identity in her head.

Then we have This House of Dreams, where we can read poems, some of them are by Thomas Zane and the Bright Presence shows Samantha that he was indeed a poet. Let’s add Jesse Faden into the mix, who as well, remembers Thomas Zane being a poet and even recites one of his poems in Control’s recordings. She still believes he was a poet somewhere around 2019, judging by her words about her needing to be in New York soon. Only in AWE DLC when she hears Tom claiming he’s a filmmaker, she changes her mind. But at this time, she’s already in yet another Alan’s story, her beliefs shaped by his writing (or by the words of her therapist and this vision of Tom and Alan; take your pick).

So, the question remains: why was Tom made a filmmaker?

My belief here is that Alan (or Scratch — do not confuse with Mr. Scratch) had no need of a poet. In This House of Dreams we see two sets of poems: one is by Thomas Zane and another is by Alan himself, in Control’s AWE Alan also claims that he wrote poems, and what value can Tom-the-poet add to Alan’s attempts to escape? A filmmaker on the other hand, as Tom says in AWII, can make a companion piece for his manuscript. Hence the filmmaker, the auteur.

As a side note. I do believe that the real Thomas Zane never makes his appearance in any games, first we see the Bright Presence possessing the body of Tom, then we see yet another Alan’s face in the Dark Place, that takes shape of what he believes Tom Zane was, and this part of Alan becomes a filmmaker at some point in his journey. After all, as the real Tom once wrote:

When you’re lost You’re lost in your own company

[indecisivemuch]

Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn. 

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading: 

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer. 

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you. 

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it. 

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips. 

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids. 

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

--------------------

masterlist

Join my Luke Castellan taglist

taglist: @nininehaaa @perseus-jackass @tanifsblog @bubbly0 @hinata7346

[queenvisenyaandprinceaemond]

My thoughts on the Aemond and Lucerys situation

To be fair, dance of the dragons started because both boys couldn't control their dragons. Not because Aemond is a psychopath though it is understandable that he held a grudge against Lucerys due to him losing an eye and being permanently scarred for life. He was a victim of bullying throughout his childhood and a laughing stock of his family since he couldn't bond with any dragon and no dragon would accept him as their rider. To make things worse, his own brother Aegon and the three Strong boys bullied him by presenting him the "Pink Dread".

Why did he lose an eye?

Simply because he claimed a dragon. Before anyone says he stole Vhagar, here is something to remember

 “A dragon is not a slave.”

Aemond rightfully claimed Vhagar. Vhagar wasn't a piece of metal that would be passed down from Laena Velaryon to her children. Period.

Anyway, back to the season finale.

His initial face off with Lucerys was him simply toying with Lucerys and trying to scare him. An eye for an eye, which makes sense considering how he was permanently blinded in one eye in his childhood because of Lucerys.

Lucerys Strong is killed by Vhagar, not Aemond. At least, the show writers have depicted the incident as an accident instead of the murder that took place in the books. The biggest blunder was Rhanerya sending her sons who have tiny dragons (when compared to Vhagar) when she knows that Vhagar is on the side of the Greens. This dragon is the largest in the world. I mean look at her size:

Secondly, Aemond should have noted down that Vhagar is a war machine, is 150+ years old, seen many battles, has lost multiple riders and soared the skies with Balerion and Meraxxes in her prime. This dragon will not take assaults and attacks on her and her rider kindly and will retaliate back in brutal ways.

Arrax being a smaller dragon was visibly frightened of the much larger Vhagar and attacked her without commands. Vhagar saw this as an assault on her and Aemond and attacked Arrax and Lucerys, chomping both of them to their death in a single bite. It was pretty clear that she did this on her own accord rather than Aemond ordering her to do so.

In the scene, we can hear Aemond saying "Vhagar, No". Show Aemond obviously did not expect Vhagar to go for the kill straightaway but I mean she's Vhagar, she wouldn't spare anyone who would attack her or Aemond.

To conclude, it was pretty obvious that both Aemond and Lucerys were unable to control their dragons.

A war veteran Vhagar against a juvenile Arrax was destined for doom and this accident signaled the start of the dance of the dragons. This just came down to a young dragon defending it's rider, and an old dragon who would not suffer an insult. Aemond and Lucerys just happened to be there

Side Note: What makes this more tragic is Aemond`s love for Helaena and how the blacks decided to go after her and her children ( makes sense if Aemond is the father of her children hence they decided to go for her: an eye for an eye, a son for a son).

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

I am convinced that Jason would LOVE doing drag. It's a theatrical art form that welcomes melodrama and costume design, like this shit is right up his alley! I also feel like he'd be someone who would enjoy playing around with his gender performance, like as @vigilantecore and @cleromancy have pointed out in this post he already does seem to play around with it!

As such I think it's fucking criminal that we have so few designs for him dressing fem that aren't just one-off, no connection to his character maid dresses or bunny suits. Like, c'mon, do not let Tim have all the dresses here just cause he's small and twinkish! Let the big muscle man have fun!! So here's a few of mine to help remedy this tragic deficit:

Cerulean Orbs

Minimal makeup, dark colors, and small jewelry everywhere but her EYES

Very elegant and formal and charming and oh-so tragic figure who is also very off-putting and clearly does not have all her screws tightened ("Somebody go get that girl brown contacts immediately, I am begging!")

Is a vampire, hence the aforementioned characteristics and the big fan she keeps to hide her fangs behind

Uses slight of hand tricks to do things like cry red glass rhinestones (claims they're ruby/bloody tears)

Will sometimes pick someone out of the audience to claim is her reincarnated lost love who she must avenge/protect/lure back into her arms

Smoking Gunn:

Voted "Most Menacing Cowgirl" three shows in a row - always happy to play the heel for another Queen

Carries a (fake plastic) sawed off shotgun, usually on a belt so that it hangs between her legs

She's on a quest for revenge against the man who "cut her gun tragically short"

Hair is wild and frazzled and covered in ash as though she has just blown herself up with cartoon dynamite.

Wears a bright red ribbon around her neck with the bow situated directly over the batarang scar

Of course no matter what design you go with I think it is utterly critical that his drag persona has wildly elaborate and melodramatic beef with Brucie Wayne.

He drunkenly pushed her off the Eifel Tower, he left her sister at the altar, he insulted her purse dog's honor, he sniped her bid on ebay for a super rare beanie baby at the last possible second - every time someone asks Jason just makes a new story up on the spot, often echoing real grievances both on purpose and on accident. The stories are always too wacky to be real of course, but also his anger is often too genuine for anyone to be entirely sure he's joking...

Have a fun little snippet from the terminally unfinished fanfic I made the Cerulean Orbs persona for (context is that Jason is there investigating a Riddler plot, unbenounced to any of the other bats except Tim. There were two possible locations to watch and so people split up)

The night so far has honestly been shockingly fun, even with his paranoia going full blast, looking behind curtains, around corners, searching, searching, searching, aaaaand there's another circle forming in the crowd. Shit. This one has formed around someone at the door and been moving inwards picking up participants. Jason pushes his way to the interior, making a few 'pardon mes' along the way and gaining a line of dirty looks. Then he finally reaches the end of the press of bodies and comes face to face with Bruce. Fucking. Wayne. And Jason promptly shoves his foot in his mouth, face pulled into disgust, half turning into his fan on instinct, "Oh god it's you." The crowd GASPS and Jason sees the most wonderful thing happen: Bruce looks confused. Not the false confusion he pulls when he needs to play stupid, but the real deal! That tiny tick of frustration in the corners of his eyes says that he truly, genuinely has no fucking clue who this is or why they don't like him. Bruce pulls out his best 'placating the plebs' voice, "I- I'm sorry Madam, have we met??" Jason decides the gods have smiled upon him this day as he pulls out of his stunned silence, flips his hair back and says, "Well! I'm glad ONE of us could forget!" And marches off, leaving a bewildered and half panicked Bruce behind to fend off the media questions about THAT little bombshell. Tim chirps in his ear to warn him that he just ran into Nightwing and they've got the attack covered. He can sit back and relax for the evening. Over the course of the night no less than fifteen groups of people come up to him asking him to spill the details and he gives every single one of them a new, more ridiculously embarrassing story than the last. He stole her favorite dress and drunkenly fell into the river. He took them out to get 'fucked up' and brought out a single baggy of oregano and acted like it was getting him high. He mistook her for six different women over the course of a single two hour dinner date. He did seven lines of cocaine, forgot she existed, and tried to fight god with a bottle opener. Everyone in that place has to know he's lying through his teeth, but it's just too fun a story to turn down. In fact... each of them starts spreading their own version of the rumors, embellishing as they go, and delighting in the PR hurricane they're creating around this poor man. Tim reconvenes the next day to ask Jason about what went down, and if he’s okay and what not. In the middle of Jason’s lively recounting, Tim receives a text from Dick asking for confirmation that his suspicions are correct and that Cerulean Orbs was Jason and mentioning that he’s having laughing conniption fits over the fact that Bruce can’t even begin to figure it out. There is a video of Bruce losing his mind about it attached.

Anyways, I really like the idea of Jason doing drag and I hope this catches other people's fancy too!

[j2x3e]

Louanna is the strongest character in the world of Re: Zero.

Title.

No, this isn't a crack theory. Let me cook.

For some context, let me reintroduce who Louanna is because no one read side stories.

Louanna Astrea, mother of Reinhard van Astrea and wife to Heinkel Astrea. Her only role in the story so far is to make the family drama worse by sleeping. She got this Sleepy Beauty condition which is NOT the same thing as being Gluttony'd. She has been sleeping for 18 years since Reinhard was 2 (as of arc 8).

As we all know, Reinhard is stated to be the strongest character by Tappei Nagatsuki in a Q&A (I use his full name here so it's more intimidating). And we all know how reliable the Q&A are with the existence of arc 7+1.

Tappei might not be lying straight up, but he could have been easily saying a half-truth because he is Echidna. (the only way to write a manipulative character is to be manipulative yourself)

Reinhard IS the strongest character, but only among the ones who are awake.

Reinhard's secret to his power has never been explained in the series other than Od Laguna simping over his rizz. We are supposed to take that as face value and believe it.

This is a trap set by Tappei. He wants all of you to think this way. Wakey wakey.

Reinhard is strong because Louanna is strong, this is all genetic. Have you ever wondered how this pathetically weak drunkard has a son this strong? Louanna is strong, that's why.

Tappei has been hiding her lores in the side stories because she is going to be as important as Clind, the holder of the Melocholy WF.

In fact, judging from how much Tappei is holding up her lores, it is not a far stretch to say that she have a bigger reveal. Which is that she is stronger than Reinhard, a character we all already knew to be the most powerful.

Q: "But dude, if this rando plot device vegetable is really the strongest, how did she even get the coma sickness?"

Reinhard has been stated to be a monster in the series for multiple times, it is often to describe his monstrous strength to be inhumane.

But what if it was taken literally?

Reinhard isn't actually a human, because he IS a monster. Well, half-monster to be precise.

While Heinkel is a pathetic weak normie human, Louanna is an actual monster. She has even been alive to witness the Witch of Envy devour half of the world, in fact, she is Flugel. (But that's another post for another day.)

Louanna is at least 400yo, so her flow of time is different from normal humans. That's right, her 18 years of slumber is not a condition or anything, she was merely napping. So stop trying to cure her, stupid Heinkel, she is fine.

Still in doubt? Look at Heinkel. He's so durable in the story. He has survived too many blunt attacks to still be living. Do you know why? Louanna trained Heinkel well during the three years she was married to him and awake.

She constantly beat up Heinkel, hence strengthening his durability. Yes, I believe that Louanna is a husband-beater, judging by the personality of Flugel according to Shaula.

We all know that Heinkel is Isekai Subaru, and we all know how affectionate Subaru becomes with his abusers. That's why Heinkel still loves Louanna and tries to 'cure' her. He loves being beat up.

From a bad master to a bad mother. Flugel is male, you say? She can shapeshift, she is the strongest after all. In fact, she is Pandora. Have we seen Pandora and Louanna in the same room before? No, we haven't. Louanna=Flugel=Pandora.

TL;DR: Stop claiming Reinhard or Satella or Regulus or Subaru or Petra to be the strongest, Louanna is. Stop coping. See the truth, dude.

Source: trust me bro

[bonbonsandbeskar]

"I may process moments and thoughts differently, but it does not mean that I feel any less than you."

Okay. I don’t usually make serious posts, but I felt like this was something worth discussing. Now the episode hasn’t even been out a full day, and I’m already coming across a few people fretting that Tech is going to get ‘called out’ by others for being a ‘dick’ over the way he pointedly questioned Omega “what is your issue” and the way he has been at continuous loggerheads with Wrecker.

Now I know there has been a lot of ‘if’ing and ‘r’ing about the confirmation of Tech being autistic, whether it’s a canon thing or whether it’s just up for us to decide and interpret. Well I’m here to say that I think this is possibly the biggest indicator we have had for Tech most certainly having autism. A common condition that people with autism can have as a facet in their characteristics is that of alexithymia: problems with feeling/expressing emotions.

I’m no psychiatrist by any stretch of the imagination and I certainly don’t claim to speak on the behalf of every autistic person (that would actually be impossible seeing as the web of characteristics/conditions is incredibly diverse) but as an autistic person myself, I can tell you the way Tech has been acting in this episode is completely understandable and valid. It hasn’t been pleasant or very helpful for his siblings, but it is understandable nevertheless.

By nature, Tech has always favoured taking a methodical, logic-fuelled approach to situations in order to derive a conclusion/solution. He has rarely found himself caught in a situation where this approach does not yield a sure-fire course of action, where complex emotions are involved (hence why he mentions Crosshair here because this is potentially the only other situation he can liken the emotional turmoil to). It is common for alexithymic people to have outbursts of frustration when they find they cannot adequately register the intense emotions of others or in turn express their own in a way that is understandable to their peers, such as upset, grief and confusion. In lieu of Echo’s sudden leave, the whole Batch, Tech included, are probably feeling all three at this moment in time.

This explains his tendency throughout the episode to lash out and argue with his siblings, notably Wrecker, rather than take the generic, empathetic approach of talking out his emotions with them and going through the motions together (simply because as previously said, he is incapable of this). I can tell you that this must very isolating for Tech in a time more than ever when all he would want is comfort and reassurance also. This doesn’t register with the rest of the Batch because Tech’s own emotional strains are not being generically expressed due to his own separate set of neurological circumstances. Albeit they are not recognising his own internal struggles.

Tech is caring and protective of his siblings, there should be no doubts about this. He can see the impact the Empire has had on the Batch and how it has now effectively caused two of their brothers to leave the fold. Albeit, he is more than foresightful enough to see how small and fragile the Batch has become and the trepidation of this could very well all but be fuelling his frustrations. There is every chance he is experiencing his own sense of loss and abandonment through all of this, while still trying to be rational and level-headed one of the team. I believe that for the first time, we actually see Tech struggling to come to terms that he is officially out of his depth in this area and therefore is out of control in the situation, a concept very alien and disconcerting for him. Throw in a still-cognitively-developing child, a headstrong, very emotional, child-like individual with adhd and a team leader that is very prone to characterological self-blame and emotional withdrawal on the back of this, and I would say Tech has still been managing everything remarkably well, all other variables considered.

I am really glad that they are showing these characteristics to us within this dynamic where the Batch do consider each other family and therefore pull together and get through whatever crap the galaxy throws at them. It is these traits and tendencies that are projected by Tech in this episode that are a very common reason autistic people are scorned, ridiculed and segregated off by their peers irl. Even though we cannot generically express it, we deeply appreciate those that stick by us and try to understand us during periods of emotional uncertainty, disarray and stress.

It touches me to see that despite the Batch not always being able to see eye-to-eye with Tech and vice versa, they will still accept each other for who they are, quirks and all, and love each other. I only wish people could learn from this

[alicent-vi-britannia]

A brief analysis of color symbology in the important characters of Code Geass

Next, I'll discuss the symbology behind the color palettes of six major Code Geass characters. The purpose of this post will be to show how colors describe character traits. I clarify that I am not an illustrator or an animator. I'm just a quasi graduate who loves Code Geass and symbols and I want to use my knowledge to combine two things I like. And that I want you to take into account four points about the symbols and, therefore, the colors: The first is that they are polysemic. I'm going to adjust to the context of the series and the nature and role of the characters. Well, to give an example, violet is the color of sexuality and lust and I don't think that was what the animators had in mind when they established violet for Lelouch. The second is that they are ambivalent. They have two sides. One positive and one negative. The third is that the meanings of the colors vary depending on the cultures (and the times). I've tried to stick to universal meanings. And the fourth is that the symbols aren't isolated signs, they establish relationships between them and reinforce or annul meanings. Don't forget that there are colors that are born from the combination of two; so those resulting colors inherit certain meanings from their "parents", so to speak. Hence some of the connotations are repeated.

Having said all that I had to say, let's start with Lelouch. Black is Lelouch's signature color. He always plays chess with black, his casual clothes are black, his army is the Black Knights, his Knightmares are black, the two great rebellions he has led have been dubbed the Black Rebellion, one of his nicknames is the Black Prince, his hair is black!

So what does black symbolize? Well, black is precisely the color of rebellion and protests. It symbolizes how illegal and forbidden are many of the acts that Lelouch carries out. It's also a symbol of elegance and youth. This is because most of the youngsters claim that black is his favorite color and don't be surprised by this, but Lelouch is a youngster.

Black is the color of dirt and evil. How many times has Lelouch dirty his hands with shit for carrying out his goals? Infinite times! "The world does not change with beautiful words", it changes with actions and many are dirty. How much evil did Lelouch do for the greater good? Phew! We could spend hours talking about it!

Black is the color of brutality, violence and hate. Three meanings that it has in common with red and these two colors make up a standard combination (it's no coincidence that one of the people closest to Lelouch and with whom he forms a powerful team has red as his distinctive color). Lelouch harbors hatred towards his father, his family and the empire that disowned him. Hence why he is so ruthless against Britannia. Unlike Suzaku, he believes that violence is the answer.

Black is the color of death, destruction and mourning. Lelouch brings death and destruction wherever he goes (to give a couple of examples, just think of the Battle of Narita and the Japan Administrative Zone massacre). In the same way, he always has mourning in his heart. He is reluctant to let go of loved ones who die (since the death of his mother).

Black usually has a negative connotation and whenever he is next to bright colors he will subvert the positive values of it. In association with yellow (which is a color present in Lelouch, albeit to a lesser extent), it connotes selfishness, guilt, and melancholy. Lelouch started his rebellion for selfish reasons and ended up consumed with guilt as he watched his revenge spiral dragging innocents and loved ones into harm. He is a character with a melancholic-choleric temperament.

[Black symbolizes bad luck and Lelouch never overthrew Britannia while he was wearing black, is that why he was always so close to landslide victory? :v]

Soon I will return to black to point out two specific aspects, now let's talk about Lelouch's second distinctive color: violet.

The combination of black and violet is one of the least negative and symbolizes magic and the dark forces of nature and magic. The Geass was a supernatural gift that Lelouch possesses. Violet is the color of vanity and extravagance. Zero was a striking character, partly because of his manner, partly because of his aura of mystery, and partly because of his looks (Lelouch is arrogant and proud, but there is a shade of difference between pride and vanity).

Violet is the color of power. This is because extracting the violet pigment was difficult and therefore very expensive; so only the nobility and members of royalty could afford to buy clothes of this color. The fact that Lelouch has chosen purple as the color of his Zero costume seems funny to me because it means that he hasn't renounced his princely roots (the series itself wanted us to be clear about it and, for that reason, gave us the dialogue from the snow in episode 10 of the first season). He is and will remain a prince (in fact, his arrogance and negative outlook on vulnerability are a product of his upbringing in Britannia). Yellow reinforces this meaning.

It is the color of penance, martyrdom and mourning. Lelouch bears the weight of his sins and suffers as a result. Lelouch never quite gets past the dueling stage.

Violet is a singular color because it derives from the mixture of red and blue and these two colors represent opposite values. In violet these values are in communion. Hence, violet is considered an ambiguous color. In terms of morality, Violet is in the middle of good and evil, just like Lelouch, who is capable of doing good for the worst reasons and evil for the best reasons. This tells us about the amorality of the character. Violet combines the values of blue and red.

Blue is the color of coldness and intellectual qualities. Lelouch stands out for his intelligence, although the haters deny it. Red is the color of passions and Lelouch is a character moved by passions. He is very passionate, only he knows how to channel his emotions. Most of the time he is calm and he analyzes coolly, even in pressured situations. Only when his loved ones become involved does he lose control of his emotions and subservient to them.

In its negative aspect, violet symbolizes the abuse of power and who is distinguished by purple, besides Lelouch? His father who is a full-fledged tyrant.

Britannia is distinguished by the color white and white symbolizes the divine. It is the color of the gods and royalty, of absolutist monarchies, to be exact.

White as opposed to black symbolizes what we are all thinking: the eternal fight of good against evil. The angels are always attired in white robes and have white wings while the demons have black wings. Although the interesting thing about Code Geass is that it inverts those values since the Britannia (the whites) are the bad guys and the rebels (the blacks) are the good guys.

White recovers its positive values with Suzaku and Euphemia. Let's go with the second.

White is the color that represents good. I had already said it. And it is, additionally, the color of integrity, honesty, transparency and purity. White shares all these connotations with blue. In fact, white and blue are the colors of spiritual virtues. Blue is the color of trust, friendship and sympathy. What does this tell us? That Suzaku is a boy with a noble and pure heart and a good friend.

White is the color of innocence and, curiously, blue is the color of the unreal, that is, of ideas that are far from being realized. It is the color of dreamers and fantasy! Is this a subtle sign that Suzaku is some poor self-deluded idealist? Maybe.

White symbolizes mourning (in oriental countries and don't be surprised by this fact either, but Suzaku is Japanese). Like Lelouch, Suzaku also has a hard time saying goodbye to loved ones who leave this earthly plane.

On the other hand, blue represents the calm, the passive and the introverted. It is the color of longing and peace. Suzaku longs for a world of peace. He tries to leave violence as a last resort, before opting for peaceful ways when dealing with conflicts.

Blue connotes sadness and loneliness. Suzaku is a melancholic and withdrawn type. Note that he doesn't tend to socialize. He is more comfortable closed in on himself, in his comfort zone. I remind you that when he entered Ashford Academy he didn't try to make friends and everyone teased him until he demonstrated his bravery by saving Lelouch from falling. He didn't try to bond with the rest of the Knights of Round either, rather, it seemed that Gino adopted him just like Anya [normally, extroverts adopt introverts]. As he drowns in his problems, he isolates himself more and more from the people who love him and the rest of the world.

Speaking of melancholy, he had mentioned that it symbolized the union of yellow with black. Yellow combined with white connotes weakness and fear. Suzaku's fear of the dark side of him. Deep down, he is just as pragmatic and selfish as Lelouch, but he is terrified to admit it. His weakness to accept his true self and his reality.

By the way, yellow, in its negative aspect, symbolizes lying and both Suzaku and Lelouch are skilled liars. It's a very contradictory and fickle color (it radically changes meaning when paired with another color) and Suzaku and Lelouch are full of contradictions. That is what makes them so human. Likewise, yellow is the color of traitors and Lelouch and Suzaku have betrayed their loyalties for different reasons.

All the positive meanings of white that I highlighted in the previous slide with Suzaku apply to Euphemia, so I'll move on to talking about pink.

Pink is the color of charm, courtesy, sensitivity, delicacy, tenderness. In short, all the qualities considered typically feminine and that Euphemia possesses. I don't think I need to justify myself or provide examples.

Pink is the color of illusions and dreams and, in that sense, it reminds me of blue. Let's not forget that the dream of a peaceful world is inherited by Suzaku from Euphemia (she is an idealist at heart). Although she was aware of the evil that afflicted the Elevens and the grudge that Lelouch harbored in her heart, she was simplistic. We could say that Euphemia had a rosy vision of life (a good and insightful person, but a lousy politician without the necessary cunning and pragmatism). I reiterate that white is the color of innocence and pink is the result of mixing red (which is the color of love and Euphemia has plenty of love) and white.

White is also the color of neutrality and if there is a neutral character in Code Geass is C.C.

Perceive that C.C. is the only member of the Black Knights who wears a white uniform which I had already said is the color of the enemy, which is weird, but makes sense (let's just say she's really only true to herself). She also has a black uniform with the Black Knights symbol on her chest. She adopts black because of her alignment with Lelouch, but it's not like she really takes a stand on the rebellion. She is there for personal reasons that are neglected in the political context.

Green is the other color that predominates in it. Green symbolizes balance and consciousness. Whenever Lelouch is about to collapse, C.C., who is the voice of reason, is there to bring him back to earth (she did better in the first season, let's be honest). Green is the color of intermediate and impartiality, par excellence. In itself it is neither good nor bad. As C.C.

Green is the color of youth and immaturity. Due to the Geass, C.C. has earned eternal youth and, at certain moments, she behaves like a carefree teenager who doesn't measure the consequences of her actions (yes, I mean the scenes of her in Ashford and her interactions with the Black Knights ). In contrast, yellow is the color of maturity and C.C.'s eyes are amber. So many years of experience have given him a few kilos of wisdom. For me, C.C. part of the archetype of the mystical Greek goddess Hestia, the one who is young and old at the same time.

Yellow is the color of security, confidence and tranquility. In her role as her confidante, C.C. has known how to bring these sensations to Lelouch.

Green is the color of otherness (the strange). What color do monsters, aliens, witches and demons paint? Green. C.C. is the only Code Geass character with green hair. She manages to stand out in the sea of characters because of her looks (she has to, she's a witch).

Green symbolizes freedom. Because of her immortality, C.C. feels prey to this existential plane. She is wandering aimlessly through the flow of time that seems endless. At the end of her journey, she manages to free herself from those ties and learns to feel good about herself, renewing her will to live. Let's not forget that, although she wanted to die, she needed to live first because she had not really lived her life. Green is also the color of life and bitterness. At first, she was frustrated. She did not fulfill her wish to be loved and was forced to live an immortal life that she did not want.

Like C.C., Kallen takes on black after bonding with Zero; but it is indisputable that Kallen's color is red.

Red is the color of emotions and passions. Good and bad. Our face turns red with shame, anger, shyness, love (in fact, Kallen is the character who has blushed the most in the series for different reasons). It is the color of love and hate. Kallen loves her family, her friends, and Lelouch as much as she hates Britannia. She is the most emotional character in the series. I also think that she is the most impulsive and that's why: she gets carried away by her emotions.

Just as red has a natural alignment with black (Lelouch), she has a natural opposition with the passive soft blue and innocent white (Suzaku). Red symbolizes strength, courage and aggressiveness. Kallen's fighting style is aggressive, both in hand-to-hand combat and in a fight between Knightmares. Unlike Suzaku, she's not going to give you a chance to give up, she's going to kick your ass openly. She goes without saying that her two greatest virtues are her bravery and her strength (and I would add her poise).

Red is the color of fire and Kallen is a burning flame. If you approach sparingly, she keeps you warm. If you approach carelessly, you can get burned. She is warm and, at the same time, hot-tempered.

Red is the color of danger, violence and the forbidden. It is associated with the revolution. This reminds us of the meanings of black that we had reviewed with Lelouch. Kallen follows Lelouch and doesn't question him because they share his methods, his goals, and his beliefs. Do you see why black and red get along so well? Both are rebels by nature.

Red is the color of allure, and Kallen is the most sex-appealing girl at Ashford Academy. I'm not saying it, all the boys who wanted a kiss from her.

Red is the color of war and anger. Paradoxically, it is the color of freedom and justice, which are the two things that Kallen wants and demands for her people. Like white, red is a political color.

Kallen also wears pink (which results from the combination of red and white) and I think it brings out the softer, more youthful and sweet side of her.

To finish, I leave you with this curious fact. Let's see how much of you have noticed…

Throughout the series, Lelouch and Suzaku wear black and white respectively (I'll open a parenthesis for clarification: only Zero's cape is black, but, if you look closely, in R1 his suit is a darker violet than in R2 and I It seems that the modification is in line with his change, since in R1 we have the meanest and most vile Lelouch and in R2 we have the most self-sacrificing and noble Lelouch). By the time the series is winding down, Lelouch and Suzaku are reversed and now Lelouch wears white, posing as the Emperor of Britannia, and Suzaku dresses in black, reaffirming himself as Knight of Zero.

What does this mean?

It means that Lelouch and Suzaku have exchanged targets.

Lelouch, who wanted to destroy Britannia, is going to change it from within as the Emperor himself.

Suzaku, who wanted to change Britannia, is going to liberate the world by destroying the tyrant who oppresses it as Zero.

All in favor of the same purpose: to build a friendly world and establish an era of peace. Everything was thrown in our faces through the symbology of color before the meaning of the Zero Requiem was revealed in the final episode and we didn't realize it. [In addition, I think it is also a way of externalizing the final transformation that these characters have experienced at the end of their inner journey].

Were the colors chosen randomly without any special motivation? No symbols in Code Geass? Ha ha ha! Look how the cows fly!

This is as far as this analysis ends. They let me know if they knew this information. I hope you liked it a lot. I invite you to tell me in comments what you think and what is your favorite color.

I have two (I can't decide): the black and the pink. [Nobody cares to know, but I'll leave it there].

We will be reading, God willing and if not, too. To hell!

Greetings and thanks for reading.

[rosypenguins]

💙Hamburger🩷

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Synopsis: Liam and Henry decide to ditch school together, and as a result, Drew and Jake decide to have their own little day together. But things don’t quite go as planned.

A/N: I currently do not have access to my drawing tablet, so I might be posting more fic-related content. For anyone invested in these, I’ve been uploading them in a certain order to try and keep a certain timeline going, but this may be subject to change as I write more. For now though, all of these fics take place during Sophomore year, prior to Zoey and Drew going out. I’m trying to remain as canon-compliant as possible, but some ideas may become outdated once S2 comes out. (Also yes this Drake fic is called Hamburger my best friend named it.)

Contains minor swearing.

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Drew closed his locker, letting out a slow breath as he rested his hand on the metal door.

Him and Jake would be going out today, just the two of them. Henry and Liam both claimed to be ‘sick’, but considering what they were posting on Instagram, it was obvious they ditched school together. Leaving just Jake available to hang out.

God, even the idea of being alone with Jake made Drew’s heart flutter. He didn’t know why, nor did he care to find out. The feeling was nice, and that’s all that mattered.

Drew turned to lean against the locker, pulling out his phone to see what new shenanigans Liam and Henry were up to.

“Whatcha lookin at?” Drew startled at the sudden voice, glancing up to see Jake with his arm against his locker, leaning over to see what Drew was looking at.

“Liam’s Instagram.” Jake leaned a bit closer.

“Ooh, what’re they up to now?” Drew tilted his phone towards Jake, showing him a photo of Liam standing behind a gate that clearly said ‘DO NOT ENTER’. Jake let out a small laugh, and Drew did his best to hide a smile.

“You gonna bail them out if they get arrested?” The blonde asked, turning to unlock his locker.

“Hell no. If they can get themselves in jail, they can get themselves out.”

“Heh, that’s fair.” Jake said, tossing his books into his locker before closing it. “Well, I’m ready when you are.” Drew gave a small nod of acknowledgement, and the two left for the school’s exit.

“So… what’s the plan?” Jake asked.

“That shitty burger place, then…” Drew thought for a moment. “I don’t know, whatever you wanna do after.” Jake glanced up a bit, holding his arms behind his head.

“I know there's a park a couple blocks down. We can go chill there.”

“Why not?”

“We going back to your place after?” Jake asked, turning to look at him. Drew thought for a moment before shrugging.

“Whatever you want to do,” He answered.

“Cool.”

*+*+*

The first stop was that shitty burger place. The food there was dirt cheap, and… well, really shitty. Hence the nickname. Drew didn’t know why he and his friends went there after school so often. He could easily afford much nicer places for them. But all three of them seemed to like the food, so…

Jake chose a booth close to the window, sliding himself into the seat. Drew sat across from him, directing his attention towards the window as the two waited for their food to arrive. The two talked for a bit, and Jake took a quick photo of the two of them flipping off the camera to send to Henry and Liam. The two got their food not long after, and the quality was just as horrible as Drew remembered it being. But, Jake seemed to be perfectly content, and as long as he was happy, Drew was as well.

The two talked while they ate, and the topic seemed to shift about every minute or so, when Jake would get distracted, or go on a tangent about something, only to lead into another.

Their conversations were about simple things. About meaningless things. About things both Drew and Jake would probably forget about by tomorrow. Even when the two left the restaurant, their conversations continued, and even if Drew failed to remember what they discussed, he knew he wouldn’t be forgetting the feeling of that day anytime soon. The warmth in his chest. The way his cheeks seemed to hurt from constant smiles and laughs. The way Jake looked, drenched in the dappled sunlight filtering through the clouds. The glimmer in his eyes, the brightness of his smile…

And even as the clouds began to cover more of the sun, Jake’s light never faded. Drew felt himself drawn to it, following him blindly to wherever he desired, listening to his voice ramble endlessly.

If the sun was somehow a person, Drew was certain it would be Jake. Someone so bright Drew wasn’t even sure he deserved to stand beside.

And a part of him was almost glad Henry and Liam had decided to leave Drew and Jake out of their plan to ditch school. Drew wouldn’t want to trade this day for anything. Everything was perfect…

Until Drew felt a few drops of water land on his head, snapping him out of whatever spell Jake had him under.

He glanced up, realizing how dark the sky had gotten, and watched as a few more drops fell from the sky. It had started raining.

And Drew didn’t know where the hell they were.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Drew mumbled to himself.

“Crap…” Drew heard Jake whisper. The blonde turned towards him. “You uh… didn’t happen to bring a-”

“No? You think I check the weather forecast?” Drew interrupted, pulling the hood of his sweater over his head. Jake sighed, shrugging off his jacket as the rain began to pick up a bit. He held it over his head, extending one arm towards Drew and motioning with his head for him to come closer. With a slight blush, Drew took a step towards him, taking shelter under the blue leather jacket. It didn’t cover either of them by much, but it was better than nothing.

“The park’s not much farther. We can probably take shelter there,” Drew gave a small nod, following Jake down the sidewalk and praying he knew where they were going. Jake had gotten them lost on numerous occasions, and Drew didn’t want this to be another. Especially with the temperature dropping and the rain picking up.

Not to mention how dumb they must’ve looked. But thankfully, Drew didn’t notice anyone outside at the moment.

Eventually, Drew caught sight of the park Jake was talking about, and Jake’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight.

“We’re here, let’s go!” Before Drew could respond, Jake took off towards the playground, and Drew nearly slipped trying to keep up with him. The two ran through the wet sand, and Jake eventually stopped when they reached a small blue tunnel underneath a platform for children to play on. Jake pulled the both of them inside, and considering this playground was intended for children, it was… a tight fit. The two were pressed close together, with their knees brought to their chests just to fit inside.

“This is the dumbest thing I think we’ve ever done,” Drew commented.

“Nothing compared to what Henry and I did last week,” Drew opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it, and watched as Jake pulled his jacket back on. Lucky him. His jacket was still mostly dry on the inside thanks to the leather it was made with, unlike Drew’s hoodie, which had gotten soaked from the rain. The fabric clung to his body, heavy and uncomfortable, but the idea of taking it off in weather like this wasn’t pleasant either. Ultimately, Drew chose to deal with it.

“I’m gonna call my mom. I’ll see if she can pick us up from here.” Jake said, pulling out his phone from his back pocket. He dialed her number, pressed the phone against his ear, and after a few rings, she picked up.

“Hey, mom,” Jake started. “You uh… you busy right now?” Jake fell silent for a moment, and Drew assumed his mom was talking. Jake let out a small laugh before he spoke again.

“…Yeah, actually. Could you-” Jake paused.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know-” He paused again, then sighed.

“You were right.” He said, his voice flat.

…

“We’re at the park right now,”

…

“Yeah, that one,”

…

“Okay, thanks mom.”

…

“Yeah, we’re fine,”

…

“Okay, love you… Bye.”

Drew tried to remember the last time he’d told his own parents that…

“She’ll be here in 15 minutes,” Jake stated, placing his phone back into his pocket. Drew gave a small nod, bringing his hands up to his mouth and blowing into them to try and warm them.

15 minutes… stuck in a tunnel… with Jake. How delightful.

“You cold?” Jake suddenly asked, and it finally occurred to Drew that he was shivering. He shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself to try and hide it a little. Jake removed one sleeve of his jacket, extending it towards him. Drew looked at it, then Jake.

“H-huh-?!” Drew’s face flushed when he realized what Jake was offering.

“What? We’re both freezing, and my mom’s not gonna be here for a while.” Drew paused.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his voice growing quiet.

“Why not?” Jake answered. He sounded so casual about it, and Drew wished he could feel the same.

Why was his heart racing so fast? They were best friends, this shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Drew swallowed, scooting himself closer and laying against Jake’s chest. Jake’s arm, meanwhile, wrapped around Drew’s shoulders, draping the jacket over his back.

…It was suddenly a lot warmer now.

But… It felt really nice.

Letting out a quiet breath, Drew allowed himself to relax, resting his head against Jake’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around the blonde’s torso, holding onto his shirt.

And despite the both of them being soaked from the rain, Drew couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable.

Being with Jake like this… it felt… safe.

And Drew found himself closing his eyes.

He could feel Jake let out a small hum.

“Feeling any better?” He asked. Drew opened his eyes, giving a small, tired nod. Jake laughed.

“Hey, you know what this reminds me of?” He asked, and the way he dragged out his words sounded way too familiar. Slowly, Drew lifted his head.

“I swear, if you bring up the-”

“That time you got sick, and you kept clinging onto me like-” Drew shoved his side with his elbow.

“Shut up! I didn’t know what I was doing!” Drew exclaimed, only to be met with Jake’s laughter once more.

“Come on- just admit it! You love me!” Drew flushed.

“I fucking hate you,” He snapped, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Love you too, Drewy-bear!” Jake said with a wink. And for a moment, Drew almost forgot what planet he was on. Why did Jake do this to him? How did Jake do this to him?

…And why did he never want him to stop?

Drew was brought back to reality when he heard Jake’s phone ding, and the blonde pulled it out of his pocket, checking the notification.

“Oh, she’s here,” He said, before shoving it back in his pocket and crawling over Drew to escape the tunnel. He stood up, holding out his hand to Drew. Drew accepted it, glancing up towards the road to see a familiar car parked by the sidewalk. Drew followed Jake towards it, and he could faintly see Jake’s little brother, Milo, sitting in the front seat. His eyes were glued to his GachaSwitch.

Jake opened the door for the both of them, and Drew entered the car. He tried to take up as little of the seat as possible, knowing his clothes were soaked.

“Heya!” Jake said as he followed Drew into the car, sitting down beside him.

“Bet you regret not listening to me this morning, huh?” Jake’s mom asked him, and Jake sighed as he shut the car door.

“I know, I know,” Jake said. “But it really didn’t look that cloudy this morning!” Jake’s mom shifted the car into drive, pulling away from the curb.

“Better to be prepared than not,” She lectured. “You boys aren’t feeling sick, are you?” She asked, her voice growing concerned.

“We’re fine, just cold.” Jake said. His mom nodded, turning up the heater a bit.

“You want me to drop you off at your place, Drew?” She asked. Drew glanced up at Jake.

“You could stay the night too, if you want.” Jake offered. Drew thought for a moment.

“Shouldn’t you be asking me, first?” Jake’s mom asked.

“Ah, yeah, right. Uh… could he? If he wanted to?” Jake asked. His mom rolled her eyes, a small smile appearing on her face.

“Yes, he can.” Jake smiled before turning back to Drew, awaiting his answer.

“Great! So? Do you want to?” The blonde asked. Drew gave a small nod, and Jake’s enthusiasm towards his answer gave Drew that same warm feeling he always managed to find with Jake. But as Drew glanced back towards Jake’s mom, he began to wonder something.

On the few occasions that Drew would stay at Jake’s house, Jake’s mom would always requested his parents approval. And considering how little contact he had with them, he’d often lie to her, saying they agreed when he hadn’t even asked. But… this time, she didn’t asked him anything. Had Jake told her about his parents or something?

…He didn’t let himself dwell on it. All that mattered was the fact he got to spend the night with Jake.

He turned his attention to his phone, checking Henry and Liam’s instagram to see if anything new was posted. And after realizing Jake was glancing over at him, he leaned a bit closer, sharing his screen.

Between the slight rumble of the car, the warmth of the heater, the quiet buzz of the radio, and the comfort of being by Jake’s side, Drew found himself growing rather drowsy, until he could barely keep his eyes open anymore. At some point, Drew had stopped scrolling, and his phone fell into his lap. A moment later, he blinked, and the world slipped into darkness.

*+*+*

“...rew…”

“Drew, wake up.”

Drew blinked, recognizing the sound of Jake’s voice. Glancing around, he realized he was still in the car. Did he fall asleep?

“We’re here.” Jake whispered, and as Drew glanced up to look at him, it suddenly occurred to him that he was leaning against the blonde’s shoulder. Quickly, he sat up.

“J-Jake! Shit, when did I-“

“About five minutes ago? Maybe?” Drew swallowed.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Jake rolled his eyes.

“You stay up ‘til two in the morning on the regular. You probably needed that nap.” Drew frowned, but said nothing else as Jake opened the door for him and led him inside the house. Jake’s mom was standing in the doorway, whereas Milo was nowhere to be seen. Once the two had entered, Jake closed and locked the door, then kneeled down to take off his shoes.

“I’m gonna finish making dinner,” Jake’s mom said. “Both of you better take a shower. I don’t need either of you getting sick.” Jake gave a nod, and his mom left for the kitchen.

“You wanna shower first?” He asked, setting his shoes aside.

“Sure,” Drew replied, doing the same. Jake gave a nod in response.

“I’ll go get you some spare clothes,” With another quick nod, Drew made his way to the guest bathroom. He’d grown far too familiar with Jake’s house, knowing it about as well as he knew his own. He opened the door to the bathroom and flicked on the light before shutting the door behind him. Finally, he could take off his hoodie. It had dried a bit thanks to the heater, but it was still uncomfortable to wear, and Drew was glad to be rid of it. As he turned on the shower to get the water warm, Jake entered the bathroom, bringing with him some spare clothes and an extra towel. He left as quickly as he came, and Drew locked the door before taking off the rest of his clothes. He tried to keep his shower quick, knowing Jake had to use it as well, but with how cold his body was, and how warm the water was by comparison, it was a bit of a challenge to find the will to leave. But eventually, he finished bathing himself, and threw on the spare clothes Jake had brought him. He left shortly after that, the towel still in his arms as he called for Jake to let him know it was his turn to wash up. Jake had whisked past him faster than he expected, closing the door rather quickly. Rolling his eyes, Drew made his way to Jake’s bedroom, sitting himself down on the bed as he dried off his hair. Pulling the towel away from himself, Drew glanced down at what he was wearing.

The clothes Jake had given him were nothing special. An old, long-sleeved shirt and cropped sweatpants. They weren’t too fancy, nor all that soft. They were simple, and obviously cheap.

But somehow… they still felt special. And Drew felt especially comfortable wearing them. Even compared to his own clothes.

He’d borrowed Jake’s clothes countless times before, yet the feeling never seemed to fade, and Drew hoped it never would. It was a wonderful feeling.

Drew was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the door open, and he glanced up to see Jake standing in the doorway, dressed in a tank top and deep blue sweatpants. He had the towel draped across his shoulders, and his hair was still dripping wet.

God, why did he still look so beautiful?

“Dinner’s ready!” Jake announced, and Drew stood up from the bed, following him to the kitchen.

*+*+*

Dinner was nothing special. Just some pasta and store-bought bread rolls, but it still tasted amazing. Jake and Milo bickered most of the evening, and it was honestly amusing how often Jake would argue with someone about 4 years younger than him. It was even more amusing how often he’d lose.

Jake’s house was nowhere near as quiet as his. It was lively, yet comforting at the same time. Drew would never admit it, but he much preferred being at Jake’s house than his own, even if there wasn’t much to do.

Because Jake’s house felt like a home, and Drew’s just felt… lonely.

*+*+*

Once everyone had finished eating, Jake was put in charge of dishes. Drew helped load them into the dishwasher while Jake washed them, and between the two of them, they were able to get them accomplished rather quickly. Afterwards, the two made their way upstairs, laying down on Jake’s bed beside one another. Jake rested his arms underneath his head, letting out a sigh.

“Today was fun,” He said, glancing over at Drew. Drew turned to face him.

“Yeah.”

“We should do this more often, just the two of us,” Jake suggested, and Drew felt his face warm at the idea. “Make Henry and Liam jealous.” He added with a wink.

“They’ll probably think we’re gay.” Drew joked, rolling his eyes as he recalled how often Henry and Liam referred to them as ‘boyfriends’. Jake let out a small laugh.

“If anyone’s gay in this friend group, it’s those two. I mean, they’ve literally kissed before.” The magenta-haired man chuckled.

“I guess so,”

“I really do want to do this more though, don’t you?” Jake asked, rolling over to face him. Their eyes met, and it took a moment for Drew to respond.

“Yeah, I do.” He said. Jake smiled at him.

“Awesome,” He said. “Any ideas for our next adventures? Preferably on a less rainy day?” Drew shrugged, shifting himself underneath the blankets.

Jake stared up at the fan, seemingly deep in thought for a moment, only to let out a yawn.

“I’ll leave that up to future us, then.” Jake decided, getting under the covers as well. Drew watched as he did so, and found himself staring while the blonde’s gaze was away.

“...Jake..?” Jake glanced over at him.

“What’s up?” Drew thought for a moment. He didn’t know why he was about to say this, but…

“I’m… still cold.”

Drew’s heart was pounding. Would Jake even understand what he meant by that?

Jake sat up.

“Oh! Sorry about that. Lemme grab you a spare blanket!” Before Drew could say anything else, Jake had gotten up and left the room. Drew let out a small groan, rolling onto his back.

Dumbass. That wasn’t at all what he meant.

He didn’t want a blanket… he wanted Jake…

And even though Jake hadn’t understood what Drew was implying, the magenta-haired man couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at himself. Why did he even say that in the first place? Why did he want to-

No, no he wasn’t going to question it. It was normal for friends to want… to…

Drew sat up when he heard the door open again, and Jake returned with a soft, peach-colored blanket folded in his arms. He made his way to Drew’s side, carefully draping the blanket over him before climbing back into bed.

“That better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Drew responded half-heartedly, however, Jake was as oblivious as ever.

“No problem.” The blonde let out another yawn as he settled himself back into bed, covering himself with the blankets.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed.” He said. Drew gave a small nod in response. “‘Night, Drew. See you in the morning.”

“‘Night,” Drew said, before rolling over, facing his back to Jake. Drew wished he could fall asleep as well, but he couldn’t prevent the questions from arising.

Why had he wanted Jake to hug him again? Why did he want to be in Jake’s arms so badly? Why did it feel like more than just a want? Why did it feel like a need? A desperation?

Why did the idea of being alone with Jake make his heart race? Why did he like being at his house? In his clothes? In his bed? Why did-

Drew paused.

…

…And he considered a possibility he hadn’t yet thought of…

…But he hated it.

He didn’t want to admit it. It was disgusting to even consider.

So instead, Drew kept telling himself that…

Jake was just a really good friend.

A friend Drew didn’t deserve…