can we talk about percy uncovering luke’s true intentions and luke coming clean about wanting to recruit percy as a powerful ally and percy obviously refusing despite sympathizing with the cause because he’s just better than that leading to them dueling, with luke about to strike percy down when annabeth’s blade, the one luke gifted her, the same cursed blade that’ll reap his soul 3 years from now, sealed with the promise of family and new beginnings, knocking into backbiter in luke’s hands, and luke turning to stare at her with the most heartbroken, torn expression on his face and annabeth staring him down with more venom than any pit scorpion could’ve had.
can we talk about annabeth standing in the clearing watching the only man she loves, someone who made a promise to protect her and always have her back, someone she’s known for 5 years, looming over a boy she met mere weeks ago, someone who, despite a godly rivalry getting in the way of their initial friendship, fought for her and saved her and chose her over himself time and time again…can we talk about how the defiance in her gaze made it very clear to luke that the person he’s closest to would choose percy over him every time
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OK this question has been bugging me all morning so y'all please let me know
bc ours did nd I never thought much of it as a kid but know I'm thinking about it and it feels kinda gross? so pls tell me if this experience was universal or not it will haunt me forever otherwise
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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So a while ago I was talking to @anna-scribbles and @marimbles about adrien and gender (as you do), and as a part of that conversation we said... hey do you remember that jenna marbles video where she put rhinestones all over her face?
and then, tangentially... do you remember that one clown makeup vine?
hold on i'm going somewhere with this:
We got to where I was going. but i'm still driving:
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"For a moment or two I could see nothing, as the shadow of a cloud obscured St. Mary’s Church and all around it. Then as the cloud passed I could see the ruins of the abbey coming into view; and as the edge of a narrow band of light as sharp as a sword-cut moved along, the church and the churchyard became gradually visible. Whatever my expectation was, it was not disappointed, for there, on our favourite seat, the silver light of the moon struck a half-reclining figure, snowy white."
Mina and Lucy in the kirkyard at Whitby, August 11th.
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one thing abt thalia and percy's dynamic that is often overlooked is that percy was punished for the same things thalia was rewarded for. there's a prophecy abt one of the big three kids? percy is treated like a liar and thief and ppl refuse to talk to him. thalia? everyone respects her (including gods!) and assumes she'll do a great job saving the world. thalia is accepted immediately at camp and threatens the place percy spent two years proving he deserves. percy wants to go on a quest to save his friend? he's an attention seeker and glory stealer. thalia? well, she's the obvious choice. thalia comes up w a plan to win capture the flag that's basically "leave everything to me" and percy comes up with a plan that's basically "if you see a good opportunity, go for it," but percy is viewed as the control freak.
what i'm saying is percy had every reason to resent thalia and he didn't. he chose not to. and thalia had every reason to look down on percy and didn't.
even when they were fighting, i never saw it as a power struggle. they were being pit against each other, and instead of doing what everyone expected them to (kronos was fully expecting thalia to kill percy), they chose to love and respect each other. because they're not their parents. they're just two kids who started cracking under the pressure but refused to break.
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steddie fake dating au that starts because robin’s mom keeps pushing for her and steve to get together and robin gets so fed up that she yells, “it’s not gonna happen because some people are gay, mom!”
and upon seeing the utter horror and fear on her face, steve swoops in and says he’s the one who’s gay. cue mr. and mrs. buckley, local hippies, attempting to show how supportive they are, and all the while steve gets eddie to agree to fake date to get the buckleys to prove they’re safe, so that robin will feel comfortable enough to come out to her parents.
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