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#i miss writing my boy
brothersaved · 1 year
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may be time for a comeback??
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Pros and cons of sticking to your long-term fanfic plan
Pros: The next chapter is gonna be so fucking cool
Cons: I miss Bodie and my script has concrete plans for him, but I cannot introduce him earlier than the script intends
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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Lap Pillow
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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listles-s · 1 month
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man laios and toshiro's/shuro's dynamic is incredibly compelling to me on multiple levels
when you look at them, you can see the cultural and personal barriers that drive almost every single aspect of their relationship, both positively and negatively. laios is incredibly outspoken and driven by his passions, which he expresses freely even in the face of annoyance and/or criticism- he's allowed to be as authentically himself as he pleases, and it's this drive that allows him and the others to survive as long as they have, especially due to the fact that these passions and interests are intertwined with his skills as a dungeon diver. toshiro, in contrast, is incredibly reserved, not only due to his eastern upbringing but also his status as nobility- a combo of cultures that both demand that one save face, to avoid conflict at any cost, even at the expense of one's own feelings and individuality. this, in turn, has made toshiro the perfect samurai, as he's politely-spoken, agreeable, and an honorable, skilled man. both are also incredibly devoted to falin on different levels, having come to accomplish the same mission of her rescue despite drifting apart from the party.
on the flipside, it's these same strengths that cause them to clash- laios is outspoken but unable to truly decipher the emotions of others, leading to a lot of false assumptions and frustration from those who interact with him. toshiro is stoic but to the point of complacency, leading to a aggressively neutral disposition that's ushered by the needs and wants of others, rather than himself. neither man truly knows where they stand with the people important to them in their lives, and hold the ones that they do know how they feel with a fierce admiration expressed in ways that aren't always traditional.
in the end, they both share a growing feeling of isolation from other people that comes to a head when they meet again in the depths of the dungeon, and they both have different ways of coping with the frustrations that arise, seeing the other as only the things they have seen face to face.
it's laios' ability to express himself emotionally without consequence that sparks jealousy in toshiro, leading to a physical fight born out of miscommunication and envy. while toshiro is a driving force in the conflict, it should be noted that the actual fight is started by laios, breaking the dam of indirect communication through force. nothing is more direct than a slap to the face, and it's only after they start hitting each other that toshiro's true feelings come to light.
however, at the end of it all, toshiro is the one who stops torturing himself, listening to laios and giving him the bell, allowing laios and his party entrance into his homeland should they need it, and ultimately giving him support in his mission to defeat the dungeon mage, albeit in his own way. despite it all, they're still good friends with a conflict that boiled over, but came out the other end with a slightly better understanding of each other. the fight was painful for both of them, but it was a necessity for their dynamic to improve, and for them to be made aware of their faults and improve as individuals as well.
but also, if you think about it, their dynamic is literally just this
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luvrxbunny · 4 months
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staying over at Eddie’s after school and fooling around a bit. you purposely leave your underwear in his room so that he:
1) has his favorite pair of your panties
2) the added knowledge that he drove you home, that you sat in his van with no panties on.
although you’ve been home for around an hour and he hasn’t texted you about anything aside from his “jus got back” message from 47 minutes ago
you assume his room is so messy that he hasn’t even noticed them. that’ll make them all the more thrilling when they’re found so you don’t dwell on it.
about 20 minutes after these thoughts you get a message from Eddie.
it’s a picture of your panties absolutely covered, soaked, in his cum. the following text just says
“i think u forgot these”
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flamewind · 2 months
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Getting back into the fandom and re-watching Nimona after a three-month hiatus feels like:
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httpiastri · 3 months
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where are the oscar hand dumps?? im STARVING
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sorry anon 🫡🫡 if you ask then you shall receive
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bruciemilf · 1 year
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There's something deeply touching about Jason knowing he'll never be the kid Bruce saved again, but still maintaining some quirks, mannerisms, habits, pieces of young Jason Todd. They're small but cut deep.
Jason, when he allows himself to stay at the manor as a tiny indulgence, still acts like there's a barrier of lasers protecting Alfred's cookie jar, just so he and Dick would have an excuse to compare leaps.
He's still waiting for the lights to fall asleep so he could visit the library and get angry at Tim, or Bruce, or both, twins in audacity, for dig earing the pages they knew he'd read.
Of course Bruce finds him because he always looks for him, ridiculously fluffy pink robe that Selina bought him sagging on him.
He ignores the ball of sadness exploding in his stomach as he realizes Bruce is the one looking up at him now. It feels like a robbery, premeditated and calculated, " Jaylad, you have to nap."
" Bruce, I am a grown ass man, you cannot fucking tell me to NAP--"
There's an unspoken type of authority that surrounds gentle parents. Is Bruce a gentle parent? Well. He doesn’t need to hit Jason to get what he wants, that's for sure, " Excuse me?"
"...Just one more page?"
Bruce is also very weak for them, thought. "..Fine. don't tell Alfred."
When Dick proudly shows off his patrol record for the week, all preppy and shiny besides Bruce at the kitchen table, Jason hears it all the way from the couch.
Damian is a very sore loser when it comes to Mario Kart, he learned, " Todd! TODD! Come back here and taste DEFEAT! FIGHT ME LIKE A WOMAN, COWARD!"
" So yeah, 40 arrests are pretty good, I'd say,--"
" 40? That's adorable, I got 70. On a broken leg."
Bruce, suddenly spooked, turns to him, " You had your leg broken on patrol?!"
" A broken leg? Awwww. Killer Crock almost bit my face off, but hey. Nice of you to try."
"Waylon bit you?!"
" At least I'm not a COP!"
" YOU'RE STILL A COP?!"
" I'm working on it, okay?!"
But the biggest thing? Jason's so unflinchingly clingy on Bruce; When they first meet this 'Justice League' Batman joined, Jason requested to be there. A robin caricature, but he doesn't trust any of them.
Aside from Diana. Diana's always the exceptions.
" This is Superman, " Bruce may think that little blush goes unnoticed, but it certainly doesn't. " And this is my ba-- This is Red Hood. I trust him with my life."
Don't cry don't cry don't cry Jason chants in his head.
Superman extends his hand and a honey sunshine smile, " Red Hood?! Oh, I've heard so much about you. We have to work together sometime. Share stories about this one here."
He heard about the guy's X Ray vision. He hopes that if he does take a peek, he sees the sinister pull of grin on his lips, all teeth and no niceness, " I'm more of a hugger."
" Oh. Uh... Sure. I love hugs."
Jason makes sure to whisper, " He doesn't kill but I do," before pulling away. Then he turns to Bruce, going from standing at his full height to relaxing a little bit,
" I want bat burgers on the way."
Bruce hums and signals for him to lean down to get his head petted. Jason does. Even if he's embarassed.
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somnas-writes · 3 months
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Thinking about the tragedy that is Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship.
They have a twisted power dynamic. Sebastian’s stronger and is inevitably going to eat Ciels soul. Ciel has the power of the contract and is going to die in the end.
Sebastian is raising someone who refuses to be a child, raising him like cattle for the cultivation. Ciel know this, knows it well but he acts regardless, doesn’t let it deter him.
We, the readers, can tell that they have begun caring for each other. Against their better judgment, they care now. They worry when they get hurt, when things go wrong. But in the end, none of that’s going to matter.
Ciel is going to die at Sebastian’s hands. That’s as clear as day, a fact of life now. They both know.
Will Sebastian feel regret or will it just be another meal. Is Ciel going to be afraid or will it just be another night for him. What will they feel when the end is near?
A Tragedy is an story that is based on human suffering that culminates in catharsis.
Theyre going to be a tragedy.
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fandomfrolics · 10 months
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Ted Lasso x Murderbot
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gunsatthaphan · 7 months
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I hate their asses sdkjhgf
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pikmininaplane · 8 months
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Thinking about how all of the eggs' messages were them talking about being scared and missing their parents, but Ramón's was just "I'm trying to reach you Fit, did you receive this message?"
Thinking about how that implies that Ramón was the one that found a way for the eggs to communicate with their parents, what a smart, beautiful boy <3
But also thinking about the way Ramón doesn't show any fear in his message, about how it's the most neutral out of all of them so far
Thinking about Ramón trying so, so hard to hide how scared he is and how much he misses Fit from him, because he wants to appear strong and doesn't want his dad to worry about him when he's not able to do anything to help him
Idk man I miss Ramón
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jtl-fics · 6 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 44
PREV
The flight up to New York is a pleasant one.
The time in the airport itself had been less pleasant. Matt, as it turns out, is a firm believer in arriving with just enough time to check a bag, get through security, and get to the gate. He had claimed up, down, left, and right that he had it down to a science.
No matter how many times Smith had wondered about the scientific rigor of this 'science' he still kept it to himself. There was no need for Smith to voice his uncertainty with this plan because Kevin well and truly had it covered.
"You're giving us only an hour to check bags, get through security, and get to our gate?!" Kevin demands.
"Kevin, if you wanted to be there earlier then you could have asked Andrew to give yo a ride." Matt says. "We'll be fine."
"You know what Neil and Andrew get like when they have a long roadtrip ahead of them." Kevin argues.
"All lovey-dovey?" Nicky asks as Aaron makes a gagging sound.
"No, well yes, but no they always stop and buy all of the worst food too." Kevin reminds. "I'm just concerned about us missing our flight! We have barely enough time!" Kevin huffs crossing his arms.
"You're wrong anyways." Aaron says idly as he continues to text with Katelyn.
"How am I wrong?!" Kevin demands.
"We also have to park within that hour that Matt has left us with." Aaron says looking up from his phone.
"Matt!" Kevin squawks.
"It'll be fine." Matt reassures for the 2nd time.
"We all have checked bags!" Kevin exclaims, "What if we miss our flight?!" he wails.
"It'll be fine!" Matt repeats.
"No it won't!" Kevin exclaims.
---
It was fine.
The only real delays they met were at security.
Smith prided himself on being efficient in the security line. He has his watch off, his phone and ID secured in a zipped jacket pocket, his backpack and electronics in separate trays, and his shoes ready to be slipped off.
So he was shamed to have been the cause of the first delay when the TSA agent wouldn't wave Smith through the metal detector since she didn't realize he was there. That had been a whole anxiety attack and a half as the line had formed up behind him all wondering what the hold-up was.
Finally she seemed to startle as she realized that Smith had been standing there waiting and waved him through.
The other delay was that Kevin got patted down after he had forgotten to empty his 'emergency' water bottle.
It was probably for the best that they didn't have to be in the airport for that long. Every announcement that it was very important to not leave your bag unattended made him worry that with every blink somehow someone had slipped a bomb into his backpack.
While it was on his back.
As he was running with the rest of his friends to their gate.
"It just had to be the gate on the other end of the terminal." Aaron huffs.
"It would have been 100% perfect if someone hadn't left their water bottle in their bag despite the, let me check, 3,820 signs that said remove all liquids from your carry-ons!" Matt says as they continues to run.
"I said I forgot!" Kevin yells back from his spot at the front of the pack. Smith was under the distinct impression that Kevin was keeping pace with them since he had seen the Striker move much faster on the court and during warm-ups.
"We could have forgiven that!" Nicky pants, "Why did you have to slam the whole thing to prove that it was 'just water'?" he asks.
"Because I wanted to prove I wasn't a national security threat!" Kevin says. "I'll be going to the Olympics in a couple years and I can't have that on my record." he continues as he rounds a corner.
"What record?!" Smith asks suddenly worried that there was a record.
"Smithy, there's no record Kevin's just an idiot. An idiot who got patted down, tested for explosives, and had his carry-on searched." Nicky huffs.
"You don't know that there's not a record! The record everything nowadays!" Kevin huffs and their gate is in sight.
"Kevin, just shut up!" Aaron exclaims as they reach the line for their flight.
"Wait why aren't any of you getting shitty with Smiths?!" Kevin asks.
"His delay was like a minute and more importantly NOT HIS FAULT!" Nicky defends.
"He should have just walked through!" Kevin argues.
"Oh it's fine if he gets a record but not you?!" Aaron asks.
"So there is a record?!" Smith asks again.
They reach the line and the largely empty area around their gate is more than enough evidence that this was the final boarding. Smith breathed a sigh of relief as he took his place in line behind Nicky.
"The lines pretty slow, I'm going to go get a water." Kevin says and before any of them can say anything he is off towards a busy looking Newsweek store.
"I cannot believe him." Aaron huffs.
"All that water he just drank and is about to drink? He has lost window seat privileges." Matt pants wiping sweat from his brow.
"Agreed." Nicky says.
Smith laughed between panting breaths. His stomach hurt a bit from the stress of running but it was fine.
They get on the plane without Kevin and head to their seats. Most of the overhead storage is taken up at this point but Smith slides his bag under the middle seat in front of him after Matt
In the end, Kevin barely made it onto the plane in time since he got caught up in deciding on water. "You're in my seat." Kevin says as the only man not yet seated.
"I am not about to spend this flight getting up every 2 minutes because you have to pee." Matt says, "Abby didn't used to need to take all those pitstops when we're on the bus." Matt adds.
"I hate the aisle, the cart could hit my legs." Kevin argues.
"Then you can sit in the middle if Smith's willing to move." Matt says.
"You can have the middle Kevin." Smith offers actually preferring the aisle seat since then he doesn't have to ask anyone to move for him.
"I hate the middle seat, there is no room." Kevin crosses his arms.
"Smith is like only 3 inches shorter than you and he's not complaining." Matt continues.
"It's an important 3 inches."
"I bet it is."
"Nicky, are you serious?"
"What?!"
"There is an uninvolved member of the public, right there."
"He's wearing headphones it's fine!"
---
It's fine.
Eventually Kevin takes the middle seat if for no other reason than Matt stubbornly pretends to go to sleep but absolutely does not want the aisle seat either.
Smith gives it up and ends up with his own preferred seat while Kevin pointedly takes both of the arm rests, as is his right. The plane ride progresses smoothly from there. Smith has always liked flying. There is always a sense that the second that he gets onto the plane and the door closes he has absolutely zero control over what happens afterwards.
That is a nice comfort.
He pays attention to the safety briefing, finds his nearest exit, and that he should secure the bag over his own face before securing it on Kevin's.
He puts his headphones on and tries not to think about the anxiety of meeting the 'girls'.
He has heard much about the 'girls'.
Allison Reynolds. Allison was someone who's legacy existed even outside of the team. Smith didn't know much about fashion but a Reynolds bet remained a solid practice within Palmetto. She was, undeniably, absolutely gorgeous and if Kevin was to be believed 'kind of a bitch'. Nicky had swatted his arm but had said that it was not entirely inaccurate but like 'in the best way'.
Dan Wilds. He met Dan. Dan was nice. Also, if Matt was to be believed, the best human to ever walk the planet earth. The reason the sun rose in the east and set in the west. The gravitational pull that held the universe together. If Andrew is to be believed, she's fine.
Renee Walker. Renee was the one who taught Andrew how to use knives. His friend has talked warmly of her, in the way that Andrew talks warmly about anyone which is mentioning them at all. She was the one that Smith was the most anxious about meeting.
Kevin turns his nose up at the ginger ale that Smith gets but he's allowed these now per his actual doctors orders.
1 hour left until arriving at JFK.
He hopes this ginger ale is enough to calm his stomach since he's still not allowed Pepto.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
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bigbrotherlouis · 8 months
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i would love to hear more about mcstrome 🫡
realistically i'm sure it's the age-old story of two kids end up in the same place and become best friends because of proximity and then once they leave being in each others' presence and grow up into adults that friendship fades away but there's still fondness there.
however fictionally? alexa play ribs by lorde
you are fifteen years old. you are fifteen years old and you have been drafted to a new team in a new city in a new country. you are the youngest person on your team and you are probably the best person on your team and you are eight hours from home, granted special exception to be drafted a year early into the OHL and you are proving yourself against boys two, three, four years older than you, but despite it all your team finishes almost dead last. you are rookie of the year.
you are sixteen years old. you are sixteen years old, and the second best player in the draft, the draft that should've been yours but wasn't, is coming to your team. you know him. you meet him in the summer and you're already friends, fast friends, and you've been dreaming about being teammates again. he talks fast and he's fiercely loyal and he keeps up with you on the ice and he reminds you of home. he is not your best friend yet but he will be. he invites you home during the summers and asks if you want to play street hockey with him. you come and you sit on the sidelines, already conscious of the worth of your body enough that you know this is not something you should be participating in. he doesn't care, though, captain of a team, yelling at mitch marner who is an awful goalie and keeps letting in goals, and winning that summer. you go to the beach together, pale and stretched out on the sand, and now you are best friends.
you are seventeen years old. you are seventeen years old and they have just named you the captain of your team. you're wearing the letter with pride but people are talking about you like you're the second coming of hockey jesus. they've been talking about you for a while now, but this feels like more. this feels heavy. you break your hand in a fight in november because you are, after all, still a teenage boy. you sit out and watch as your best friend lights up the ice. he is the best person out there when you're on the bench and it shows in the stats and the points. he can tell you all the stats and the points because he's good at remembering those. he says he can remember every single play he's ever made and honestly? you kind of believe him. the haunting specter of the draft covers your entire year, looming in the corners of your vision, colouring every interaction. you are good, and he is good, and there is no chance of being drafted together, no matter how much you secretly hope. the calendar is a countdown clock towards your end, but you make him promise you will stay best friends because you don't really know what you will do without him.
you are eighteen years old. you are eighteen years old and edmonton has already made your jersey even though the draft hasn't happened yet. the graveyard of first overalls and rumors of a curse after gretzky left. you're the next gretzky and you're the next coming of hockey jesus and the entire city is waiting for your salvation. he goes third. phoenix, which is the literal opposite of edmonton. you hang off of him the entire weekend before, realising that this is the crescendo. you will never be otters together again. there's little chance you'll even be teammates again, so you cling tight even as you're so breathlessly excited for the moment your name get called first. you trip off the stage in a jersey that doesn't quite fit right but has your name on the back, and quietly ask if you can watch this next pick before you go backstage. you twine yourselves in a hug when he follows behind and it feels awfully like a goodbye.
now.
you are eighteen years old. you are eighteen years old and your best friend is drafted number one overall. you always knew he was better. you always knew he was made for more, so it doesn't hurt. you're happy to follow in his footsteps because you are his best friend and nothing will ever change that. besides, third is still a good number. amazing, even. they send you back to erie but you expected that. no one makes it to the show unless they are exceptional or a team is desperate, and edmonton is both. he scores his first nhl point in his third game and you are named captain of the otters. life is good. he breaks his collarbone less than a month in, shattering his rookie dreams. he comes home to you, in erie, because no one else understands him like you do. no one knows how to manage him when he's broken and angry, but you have patience and a lot of love and loyalty. you lie in your big bed and take up most of the mattress, two grown boys in the dark, and you don't kiss him. you could, but you don't.
you are nineteen years old. you are nineteen years old and he is named captain of his nhl team, also at nineteen. he is the youngest captain in history. thirteen days later, you score your first point. a month after that, arizona sends you packing back to erie. this time it hurts. you were doing your best and it wasn't bad and your best friend is captain of the oilers and you are playing with your high school team again. they make you captain for the second year in a row, but it's not the oilers and it's not the coyotes, so does it actually fucking matter? you are determined to prove everyone wrong and so you drag your team to the memorial cup. you win and it feels like a fuck you and it is maybe the best moment of your goddamn life. your phone is quiet. you haven't had any texts from edmonton for months.
you are twenty years old. you are twenty years old and this is finally your goddamn year. except-- you go pointless in two games and arizona decides that's not good enough. you've aged out of the otters so you pack your bag for tuscon instead. you spend your winter bouncing between the nhl and the ahl, sometimes so fast it makes you sick. winter in the desert feels weird, feels barren. you lie on your floor under the a/c and deliberately do not think of the time you almost kissed your ex-best friend. he's your ex-best friend because he's got a new one up there, draisaitl who also went third but the year before you. he can keep up with him, even better than you can, because he's not being bounced up and down. you wonder if draisaitl ever wants to kiss him. you wonder if draisaitl ever has.
you are twenty one years old. you are twenty one years old and you are a draft bust. they've been calling you that for years but now they're right. arizona trades you to chicago for practically nothing, which is embarrassing, but it's alright because you've got an old otter, brinksy, there on your team. you're nothing special, but you're nothing bad either. if only you hadn't touched the hem of hockey jesus as a teenager. if only you hadn't known what greatness tastes like. when you face off against edmonton, he won't meet your eye. he slides out of the centre dot and draisaitl steps in and wins the draw.
you are twenty three years old. you are twenty three years old and you have a girlfriend now, a pretty one, and it's-- good. your team makes it to the weird-ass playoffs in august, because there's a pandemic now, and you get trapped in a hotel in edmonton. your girlfriend tells you that she's pregnant right before you leave, like right before, and you can barely care about anything else. you barely care that he is two floors below you and the last message in your texts was a happy birthday! three years ago. unimaginably, you knock him out of the playoffs on his home ice. in the handshake line, he offers you his palm and his eyes skate over you like you're a stranger.
you are twenty five years old. you are twenty five years old, and on yet another new team. that's good, though, even if he will always be so much better. your fiance asks if she should send an letter to an edmonton address and you hesitate. you are no longer friends anymore. you haven't been for years and years, even if you lie when the press ask. but you loved him, once. you loved him so much that you were part of him and he was part of you, and the teenager on a shared bed in the dark will not let you forget that. you put his name down on an envelope.
so.
you are twenty five years old. you are twenty five years old and a wedding invitation arrives at your front door. you slide your fingernail under the flap and freeze when you see the faces on the front. there's a secret you will never tell anyone, not even on your deathbed, but you think of it now. it takes up so much space in your lungs that you can barely breathe. and it hurts. your girlfriend, who you love very much finds you shredding paper into a wastebasket and asks if everything is alright. you lie. you can't imagine not lying and so she doesn't catch you at it. you tell her that you've always wanted to go to manchester, england. you tell her that you should plan a trip for the summer, and you end up on a plane to a different continent while your ex-best friend is getting married back home.
you are sixteen years old. you are sixteen years old and flat on your back at the beach, listening to the water lap up on shore. beside you, he drops to the ground to stretch out too, his bare arm pressing up against your own. it dawns on you, as consuming and as present as gravity, that you are in love with him. it dawns on you that maybe you always be.
you're the only friend i need / sharing beds like little kids / we'll laugh until our ribs get tough / but that will never be enough
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heteromerous-rhyming · 4 months
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i think that i've figured out why i don't like show sally.
ok like don't get me wrong, virginia kull?? she ATE with that interpretation. her acting?? amazing. like i could truly get the core of her character.
it's just that i don't like the character the writers give us.
cw: discussion of abusive relationships, of toxic family dynamics, probably a good bit of generational trauma. I don't really get into details except with stuff shown on the show and written in the books but i wanted to be safe.
as someone from an immigrant household, as someone whose mom works a part time minimum wage job, as someone whose seen and been there as my parents fought, i just really really dislike sally's portrayal in the show. and it's partly because of poseidon and partly because of gabe (mostly because of her character in general but yeah, lets get the men out of the way first)
I feel strongly about poseidon in his relationship to sally very specifically. i don't mind his relationship to percy either books or show. but it's pretty damn clear to me that this show was written by someone who's never experienced sally's situation, of being the single working parent with an absentee partner (or in gabe's case a partner who literally ahHHHHHh). because from the beginning, from sally's reaction and snark to gabe, I felt like something was wrong or off, and it was Specifically the show because i read the books and i watched (some) of the musical and i never felt that way towards either of those. i'm not saying that my family situation is sally's (don't have a god for a father for one), but. by all accounts sally knows that this is an abusive relationship, the only reason that she's with gabe is because of the protection he offers percy. i have to assume that this is true because sally jackson turning gabe to stone is something i'm assuming is staying in the show, and i remember this being mentioned by grover? or someone in the first few episodes. and the cord that struck in me was not the traditional (that is, visible, defined, i don't like this word but i don't have a better one) abusive relationship but relationships in my community, of women staying with husbands because of their children, women outright saying this, women who know the world is cruel to single women and to single mothers specifically. sally, to me has never been under any illusions that gabe is any sort of relationship material. she has never been under any illusions that poseidon would be able to help in any way.
and that crux of sally's relationships made her first scene in the show all that more jarring. but it's not anything specifically that i can put a finger on. and maybe i'm wrong for this or maybe i'm expecting too much. but. sally doesn't have the resentment or the quietness or the bitterness or even the loudness that i expected. you have been the only true caretaker for your child, the only one in the house that really puts food on the table and on top of that is expected to do emotional labor? to cook and clean or at least pick up the food?
but she treats gabe like he's an annoyance. someone to brush off. and you see the manipulation tactics from gabe, you do, but.
its not that i want sally's spirit to be crushed. my mother's spirit wasn't crushed. the women in my community, they laugh, they cry, they watch silly tv shows, they have lives that they live, and in many cases they live well.
but the women that i know are also angry. they are either on fire or they used to burn. when they banter with their partners it often turns ugly because they are tired of the same damn argument day after day, because often the trivial things that are asked are compounded and compounded and compounded because you live in the same house, there is no escape, there is no private space, not really.
it's new york and sally works a job to support an apartment and her family. they are not well-off. sally has no support network we can see, and how could she? poseidon mentions that she has no one to talk to about these things, her parents are clearly out of the picture. all this to say. there is a certain understanding of class that exists within the books that was excised, i believe unknowingly, from the show, and it is the worse for it. there is a tiredness, a worn-down-ness from being low income that sally had in the books, but in the show i only see a struggling first time single parent. i don't see the complexity of a woman who literally gave up on finding a fulfilling relationship to be with a man for her child. i don't see the complexity of a woman working fulltime and still getting demanded from at home. and i didn't realize that I wanted to see that until I saw the show. i didn't realize that that was what i loved about the books.
i hate that they tried to bring poseidon back into sally's life as this perfect man who through cosmic forces can't help. i hate that sally calls him, i hate that he says he'll listen. but most of all i hate that sally just accepts him, falls into him. it's really hard to be a mother when your partner doesn't seem to help you parent in any way, even if he cannot help you. he's a greek god, there's no way in hell that he can begin to understand the lengths that sally has gone through to sacrifice and survive, the very human things that she's done. sally in the books thinks of poseidon as a sweet memory, almost a fairytale, and it's clear that this story is the one that brings her comfort. poseidon is a one night stand, a sweet stranger, she understands he's not coming back. but this poseidon comes when sally calls, and that i cannot believe. i cannot believe that she still thinks of him as the fairytale man, that she accepts him so easily if there isn't that distance. i cannot believe that there is no resentment, that she still puts faith in him as her god (the first episode when she talks about him just felt so wrong to me) if he's not a memory, but a recurring figure. this is not a story of star-crossed lovers, sally feels too real as a human being for that.
sally finds trust, finds contentment, in the books after percy leaves home, after she no longer has to put up with gabe for his safety. she does not find poseidon again. she marries a human man, a very ordinary human man who cares for her. poseidon visits after she is in this relationship and its an amicable one. he is percy's father but also distant memory all in one. sally has the strength to survive a terrible relationship and still find a way to heal and live fully after that.
but the anger. the fire was there. she turned gabe to stone. she reclaimed her life with her two hands.
you don't kill a man for no reason. you don't kill a man without emotion.
but it's that reason and that emotion that i don't get from the writer's room. and it just makes me deeply sad.
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corrodedcoughin · 1 year
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little story about little Eddie and his 2 new friends | word count approx 2.5k | general audience rating | steve and eddie are kids and Wayne is a pushover
Wayne sometimes thinks it was a mistake, not taking in the boy. God no, he would never think of Eddie as anything other than an important and intrinsic part of his life, couldn't be without him, wouldn't want to be. 
No, what Wayne worries about is how his readiness to help Eddie feel loved might contribute to the boy's difficulty in making friends.
It was an innocent enough request, Eddie asked for a pet as all young children do. He was so small and so wide eyed, just a scrap of an 8 year old with more feelings than he knew what to do with. Wayne knew he'd never hold up against any request Eddie made but he liked to pretend to himself that he could. And while technically he never pandered to the boy, yes Eddie usually got what he wanted but in a way that suited their means. Or so Wayne tells himself. 
8 year old Eddie asked for a pet and a pet is what he got.
-
Eddie barrelled into the trailer door, backpack swinging off his arm and ready to be thrown into the corner. Planning to shoot off back out the door to do his usual; lift up rocks and inspect whatever bugs he could find, to grab sticks and imagine them as wizard staffs, to let his imagination finally run wild after hours of sitting still at a desk under too bright lights and too busy class rooms. In truth he wasn't really paying attention to the insides of the trailer, expecting it to be the same as always. It took a very pointed cough for Eddie to register that Wayne was unusually home from work, far earlier than normal, and a further loud clearing of the throat for Eddie to pay attention to what Wayne had placed on the kitchen table. 
Right in the middle of the table, sitting in a beam of sunlight, was a cage and in that cage was what would soon become, Eddie's very reason for being. He crept up close, almost as if scared that any sudden movements would prove the whole thing to be a cruel illusion. He was brought out of his reverie by a pink nose wiggling at the bars, whiskers attached and twitching as the rest of the rat appeared.
'is he-? is he for real?' Eddie said with a gasp, hands inching towards the door of the cage. 
Wayne had to suppress a laugh, trust this boy to be bowled over in wonder at a rat as if it were a puppy. He opened the contraption of the enclosure door and dipped his hand inside, allowing the rat to climb onto his palm. The guy from work assured him that this one was the most tame he had, inquisitive to a fault and oddly enough, desperate to be handled. Quite honestly, the perfect match for his well meaning but excitable nephew-near-enough-son. 
'Yeah, yeah kid it's for real. And he's a she.' Wayne lets the rat sniff at Eddie's hands, little pink hands finding a platform on Eddie's palms, clearly holding himself a still as possible but if Wayne knew this boy, and he did, he knows that Eddie is so close to vibrating out of his skin, that containing that much excitement must be killing him. 
'I don't care. Wayne, I don't! Can she sleep in my room? Does she know tricks? Can I teach her? What does she like? Can I take her to school? Please! Wayne!' He's started now, words pouring out of his mouth, tripping over himself to try and release every thought entering his brain at lightning speed.
'Woah, there' Wayne says pulling the rat up, cradling it in two hands, 'We got to be kind to her alright? She's only small. Doesn't know what loud noises are good and which are bad, okay?' He watches as Eddie nods vigorously, eyes never leaving the creature. 'Now you promised me you'd look after a pet so that's what's going to happen. She is your responsibility. That means cleaning, feeding and loving, got it?' Eddie nods again, tentatively reaching his hands up, the image of Oliver Twist springs to Wayne's mind. 
Wayne comes around the kitchen table, crouches down to Eddie on creaky knees and hands the rat over, filling Eddie's small hands with a heartbeat and fur. Eddie giggles, watching as the rat surveils the new patch of skin its found itself on. 
'Tickles, Wayne' and its said with such love and devotion Wayne almost feels his heart break 
'Yeah son. She does, doesn't she?' 
-
 Of course it takes less than a week and Eddie and Sam are inseparable. As soon as Eddie gets home he's itching for his furry friend, delighting in the way she scampers around the room, over his arms and anywhere she can get. No matter what though, she always comes back to him. She can be digging in to a particularly interesting crevice behind the couch but she'll always come running back when she hears Eddie make a noise.  
The thing is, Eddie is a pretty lonely kid. Not for lack of trying, don't get it wrong. Eddie tries to socialise he tries to talk to the other kids in his class, get them involved in his imaginary games and play pretend but being the new kid doesn't really do him any favours. Being the new kid that lives in the trailer park and a penchant for biting to show affection does him even less. 
To Eddie, its him and Sam against the world. He can come home and know that his best friend will listen to all his problems, will stay close and won't run away even when he's extra loud or being 'a lot' as his teacher like to tell him. He's so tired of being told to use his 'quiet hands', his 'inside voice' and every other subdued phrase they try to press on him. 
This particular day was a hard one, Sally Winters had said that Eddie was 'bad luck' and the word quickly spread around by recess. Eddie had thought he was making some progress with a couple of kids from the class, was thinking today might be the day that he finally got asked to play but that hope quickly got squashed. He had hopped up to the potential friends with a stick in his hand and a notion of being a pirate when they both looked at him like he was a monster, they couldn't get away fast enough. And Eddie couldn't find a place to hide quick enough before the fat and heavy tears fell from his eyes. 
It was a long day and home time was his only saving grace. 
Wayne knows somethings up, can tell in the way that Eddie isn't even really talking to Sam, hardly looking at the Tv despite the fact that Wayne very purposefully had put the cartoon Lord of the Rings movie on. The sure fire fall back he liked to keep in his back pocket. The trump card to get his kid happy. This time though? No luck. Looking at the kid makes a chasm open up in his gut, deep and full of overwhelming sadness that he just wants to stop, wants to find the solution to make this boy smile like the sun again. They don't talk much for the rest of the night but Wayne makes sure to stay close, stay awake in case he's needed. Eddie spends the time between dinner and bed sitting on the floor, side pressed up against Wayne's leg and playing fetch with bits of Wayne's whittling with Sam, not a word said. 
-
Eddie wakes up the next morning with a plan and a devil may care attitude. Oh so carefully he maintains his usual routine; says good morning to Sam, carts her around the trailer as he washes his face and wanders into the kitchen, placing her in her secondary cage so she can eat breakfast with Eddie and Wayne - Eddie was adamant that they couldn't have meals without her, 'she's part of the family!' and soft hearted fool Wayne Munson agreed and an additional cage was sourced. 
When breakfast is finished Eddie begins his usual rigmarole of dragging his feet to get out of his pjs and into his clothes, reluctant to grab his bag and go out the door. Same old protests as Wayne watches him walk out towards the school bus. 
What is a new addition to the routine though, is Sam Munson hiding up the sleeve of a school boy and about to go on a secret and very dangerous mission. A mission to survive the school day. 
Surprisingly, Eddie manages to keep Sam secret, keep her safe, the whole morning. He came prepared with snacks to make sure she was entertained and happy, he couldn't stand the thought of her being sad, her eyes get so big and her tail droops as well as her ears, it makes the whole of Eddie ache. But no, she's happy, or happy enough at least. 
So the morning goes without a hitch, Eddie making noises to cover up any squeaks and keeping a hand in his pocket to reassure Sam, stowed in the pocket of his hoodie. He knows he's seen as 'weird' so what's a few extra noises? They are let out for recess and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, thinking this is his time to let Sam out, knowing she's desperate for some fresh air. Sure, she's peed in his hoodie pocket, but he can't really tell with it's dark colour and the layer of t-shirt between the wet material and his tummy. 
He runs off to his usual corner, stuck between a bush and a tree and gently tips Sam out of his pocket, she scampers around his feet and gratefully accepts a broken off bit of cracker between her hands.
'Thanks for coming with me Sam. Everyone is so mean, its so stupid. I don't care. You are a better friend than any of those losers' He crouches down, hoping to find a twig to play fetch with. A game that he delights in, is immeasurably proud of her for learning it so quickly. 'Gonna find you the best stick Sam. Promise. Best stick for the best friend' 
He continues muttering to himself and doesn't notice that he's getting progressively louder after finding a twig and beginning the game. Doesn't register that he's drawn unwanted attention with his happy shouts and encouragement until a body is crashing through the shrub he's hidden himself behind. 
Sam doesn't notice either until the unexpected form is right in front of her and she bolts, running as fast as her legs will carry her and Eddie is right behind her, muttering under his breath as he trips over his own feet in an attempt to catch her 'oh shit oh no oh no oh no' He's pushing himself as hard as he can but it doesn't count for much, he never was the fastest. He keeps trying though but then a faster body is accelrating past him, in a evident bee line for Sam. 
Without thinking, Eddie lets out a painful 'NO!' terrified of what might happen.
He knows people think rats are dirty, thinks they don't deserve love and don't deserve life. He doesn't want to imagine what this person's intent might be. Sam reaches a dead end up against the wall of the school and the body, the boy, stops infront of her. Scoops her up? Cradles her into his chest? Eddie...Eddie doesn't know what to think, he's prepared to fight this kid but then the boy is looking up at him with curious hazel eyes. Stroking Sam's head gently and with intent.
He holds Sam out, careful with his motions, trying to blow his brown floppy hair out of his face without disturbing the animal in his hands 'is she okay? is she yours? did I hurt her? she looks okay, is she?' Eddie gingerly steps forward and plucks Sam out of the boys hands, gives hera thorough inspection as the other boy continues 
'I didn't mean to scare her I swear! I didn't even know you had her! I won't tell, I swear I wont! You know...you shouldn't really have a rat in school. If I promise not to tell can I play with you? I'm Steve' 
Holding her close, Eddie squints at the boy, at Steve, and thinks. Thinks about how he looks nice, about how soft his hair looks and how he asked Eddie, Eddie!, to play, that he didn't give him a wide bearth and that he held Sam with such care. It isn't even a hard decision.
They spend the rest of recess together. Eddie shows Steve just how smart Sam. That she can play fetch, that she can run across one arm to the next, over your shoulders without losing balance. That she can twitch her whiskers and it seems like she's laughing at the joke Eddie tells her. That she laughs at the joke Steve tells her! Steve learns that she's named after somebody called Samwise and it doesn't matter that he's a boy because Sam is brave just like Samwise and smart and cares just as much. That Sam is Sam and Eddie is Frodo and together they can take on the world. 
Steve asks if he can have a name too and Eddie calls him Legolas, doesn't tell him why. Doesn't say that Steve reminds him of the pretty elves described in the books Wayne reads out loud to Eddie. It doesn't matter, not really. 
Recess ends and they shuffle back to the school doors, both of them lagging behind the others.
Eddie steels himself, knows he has to bring his misfortune up so that he can own in, so that his new friend doesn't find out from someone else. 'I'm bad luck you know. Sally...she said it. now everyone wont talk to me. I wont be mad if you don't either. I've got Sam. We'll be oaky! So you can just go, I don't care!' He knows he's getting wound up, he can't stop himself. He just wants the bandaid ripped off so he can start feeling sad quicker, get it over with sooner.
Before he can register is, Steve is wrapped around Eddie in a flash of a hug, careful to keep his tummy away from squashing Sam. 
'Not bad luck to me. See you tomorrow Frodo' Steve whispers next to Eddie's ear and shuffles through the school door. 
Eddie is in a daze of joy and happiness, thoughts rumbling through his head but none of them sticking as he journey back into his class room. Pure happiness radiating out of his body, he takes Sam out of his pocket and holds her up to his face 'Sam you made my bad luck go away!' kissing her on the forehead as he hears his teacher scream 
'EDWARD MUNSON IS THAT A RAT?!'
-
So Wayne thought the already unpopular kid having a rat would make things worse. Turns out, he was wrong. Very, very wrong. He might have to start pocket inspections before school though.
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also on ao3 if that's the preferred reading format for you
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