Percy pre last Olympian: I don’t like Annabeth. We are FRIENDS. My feelings are FRIENDLY. Stop looking at me.
Percy post last Olympian: My beautiful, talented, wonderful girlfriend Annabeth. Light of my life, the sun rises and sets with her smile. My greatest accomplishment is being her boyfriend and I killed a titan once.
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Arthur starts out as an insufferable spoiled brat who falls madly in love with his mouthy servant. So madly in love that he risks his life time and again to save Merlin. Thankfully, Merlin’s an oblivious idiot. Unfortunately, the people around him are not. So while Merlin doesn’t notice that Arthur’s so in love with him he can’t function, everyone else is like “he’s so in love with you, he’d die for you” and Merlin’s like “nah, he’d do that for anyone. He’s just like that.”
And now, sweating bullets, Arthur has to start risking his life for peasants and anyone in danger like he’s truly noble, or Merlin’s gonna figure out that he’s in love with him.
Literally, Arthur experienced so much character growth to keep himself in that closet when he could of just said, “Nope, it’s you Merlin. I don’t give a flying fuck about anyone else.”
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I’ve always had a bit of a baby face. It’s not the worst thing, but occasionally gets me into awkward situations. Like when I was 23 having a flight attendant ask me in a baby voice if this was my first time flying alone. I was tired and befuddled and eventually blurted out, “I’m in my 20’s?”
But going back to school has been pretty funny. My classmates are largely 18-20. And to a one, none of them clocked me as being in my thirties. The highest any of them guessed was 25 and even that was said with extreme skepticism.
After telling a teammate over lunch what my age was she spent the rest of the meal staring at me in shock and confusion, clearly deeply shaken that someone she’d known over a year was a decade older than she thought.
But my absolute favorite was a classmate sliding up to me in figure drawing in sophomore year and dramatically whispering, “I- I heard you’re old!!”
I looked at them mildly and asked, “How old did you hear I was?”
They lowered their voice even more, as if the number they were about to utter was so scandalous they needed to hide its entry into the world.
“I heard you were… thirty!”
“Yep.”
They slammed back into their chair so hard it skidded backwards and shifted into high volume to exclaim, “WHAT! You like like you just graduated high school!!!”
I was laughing by that point, “No I don’t! You look fresh out of high school! I look thirty but all the actors who play high schoolers on TV are thirty so you can’t tell the difference!”
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inspired by a nate bargatze sketch
Eddie’s least favorite thing people say when they find out he’s gay and married to a man is when they ask who the “man” of their house is, because…it’s fucking stupid and wouldn’t be funny even if it didn’t rely on patriarchal bullshit that Eddie didn’t buy into even before he and Steve had three daughters.
The thing is though…there definitely is a man of their house, and it’s Steve.
And if Steve isn’t home, it’s their oldest daughter, Moe.
Eddie knows this is true because there’s someone coming to their house to work on…something. All Eddie caught when Steve brought it up was, “We’ve been in this house for almost twenty years. I’d rather deal with it now than wait until it’s causing problems.”
So it’s either the roof, the water heater, or the furnace.
(He thinks).
Every once in a while Eddie gets frustrated enough about this to want to get more involved – he helped Wayne out with this shit all the time when he was a teenager, and he worked as a mechanic well into his twenties (up until he got his first book deal and was able to quit and write full-time). It’s not that Eddie can’t understand all that stuff – no, it’s Steve insisting that he take on all that kind of stuff in their life together so that Eddie didn’t have to that did it, and now it’s been so long since he exercised that part of his brain that it’s basically gone dormant.
The nail in the coffin is when Steve says, “If he shows up before I get back – do not engage. Get Moe. She knows what this is all about.”
She totally does, is the thing, so Eddie just replies, “Got it,” and prays that Steve gets home from the hardware store before the contractor arrives (is he a contractor? Eddie doesn’t think he even knows what a contractor is).
Naturally, not even five minutes after Steve pulls out of the driveway, a dark blue van pulls in.
“Ah, shit,” Eddie mumbles, and then he calls upstairs, “Moe. The guy Pop was talking about is here.”
Moe calls something incomprehensible back (hopefully it’s I’ll be down in a second) because by the looks of it this guy is already halfway to the front door.
Unfortunately for Eddie, Moe is not down in a second and he ends up in a conversation about water heaters with…not a contractor, he’s pretty sure. A plumber, maybe? Doesn’t matter – just a guy who’s gonna fix – or maybe it’s replace? – their water heater…for some reason.
“So where’s the heater?” the not-contractor-maybe-plumber asks.
“Uhh…” Eddie hesitates, and thank Christ, Moe appears at the top of the stairs.
“Basement,” she says, “Anode rod was replaced three years ago but the rest of it’s been there since we moved here in ‘04.”
The guy launches into a whole water heater spiel, and Eddie realizes halfway through he’s not trying to engage with Moe at all. He’s directing it all at Eddie as if Eddie is hearing anything more than Charlie Brown-esque phone call mumbling. He concludes with a question about…something related to tanks maybe? Or maybe it was tankless. Eddie has no idea. Moe answers it because she knows what the hell this guy is talking about, but still this asshole is looking at Eddie for confirmation.
“Dude, I dunno why you're looking at me,” Eddie tells him, and then he points at Moe, “My daughter works on airplanes. I write books. I'm telling you – you're better off listening to her.”
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