for the "send me a ship" challenge: solangelo + things you said with no space between us
“Gods, Nico, you can’t just do shit like that!” Will growled, angrily raking his hands through his hair as he incessantly paced the length of the Apollo cabin.
The sun baked Nico’s back through the open door but he was too stubborn to move, his arms folded over his chest as he glared at Will from across the room. “I was just doing my job, Will!”
“Since when is dying your job, Nico?!” Will was unusually upset and there was a part of Nico that wanted to go over and hug him and another part of him that wanted to storm out. They balanced out to him just standing in anger, slightly confused as to why his boyfriend was having such a fit.
“We all do what we have to to help the camp and I was saving lives!” Nico growled, his foot stomping on the creaky floorboards of the cabin. He felt like a child throwing a tantrum.
“You were almost killed! You knew you couldn’t take on all those monsters by yourself!” Will looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself, his arms flailing around in wild gestures, his face red and his hair a mess. It would’ve been amusing if Nico wasn’t so annoyed.
“I’m still here, aren’t I? I know what I’m doing, Will, I can take care of myself. I wasn’t going to just let them die.”
“You didn’t need to let them die! Percy was almost there, he could’ve helped!”
“They would’ve been dead by then! What do you want from me?!”
“I want you to care about whether you live or die!”
“Then act like it!”
Nico didn’t realize they’d been moving closer together, their noses now just inches apart as they huffed from adrenaline, the rage in the air dissipating.
“I’m still angry,” Will said, his pupils practically dancing as they rapidly bounced around Nico’s face, from his eyes to his mouth, back to his eyes. “But I really want to…”
“What?” Nico meant for it to come out biting, but instead it was soft, barely audible as his breathing slowed to an anticipatory rhythm, every muscle in his body frozen.
“Can I kiss you?”
Nico couldn’t even finish nodding before Will was pushing him against the wall, their mouths smashed together.
Will pulled away from Nico far too soon, resting their foreheads against each other as his thumb traced deliberate patterns on Nico’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to lose you, Nico.” He whispered, his hand sliding down Nico’s arm to intertwine their fingers. “You think no one cares whether you’re here or not but that’s not true. Even if you don’t believe Percy and Jason and all the other campers, you have to know that I care and I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“I-I’m sorry about earlier, I just don’t want anyone else dying if I can prevent it.”
Nico explained, tightening his grip on Will’s hand.
Will smiled. It was small, almost sad. “I know, just- just try to be careful, okay? I don’t want to have to bury anyone else I care about.”
“You won’t have to.” Nico promised. “Not if I can help it.”
Okay, I’m really not proud of this one? I feel like it could’ve turned out a lot better but as the night progresses my writing abilities slowly deteriorate. I hope it turned out okay, though.
You know that feeling when you’ve been exercising and moderating what you eat for a long time, and one day you wear a shirt that’s a size smaller than what you normally wear, and it actually looks pretty good on you?
We live in a world where we are not allowed to be emotional; men can’t cry, women can’t be angry and it is not allowed to be angry because it’s scary somehow and it’s horrendous and ridiculous and actors, we bear ourselves for you, we give you the opportunity to see how emotions can help, to feel emotions and to just express them as they come through you, it’s so good for us, as human race, it is necessary. And we give that to you because it’s what we do and the only reason we can do that - and I know this because I work with the best people in TV - is that these people around me are so beautiful, they have so much love and compassion and consideration and sometimes anger and sometimes pain and sometimes, you know, frustration but they are the most beautiful human beings and I think that’s what you see when you see us on TV.
nikniknikin answered: I’d love to hear/see more about the relationship dynamics between the keepers! Do any of them have rivalries or grudges against one another? Who gets along particularly well? Stuff like that.
The staff gets along mostly fine, though there used to be a lot of tension between Uula and Aarni back when he was new around the zoo. He kind of botched his first impression in a pretty spectacular way. To his credit he didn’t know much about werewolves, nor had he ever actually had to work with them, but it sure didn’t go well. At all. He honest to goodness tried to hit on her, and tried to pull some alpha male shtick (he’s got horns, baby!*) to show off. The verbal beatdown he received was long and educational (that attitude has ruined a lot of perfectly good newly turned werewolf lives. She’s VERY passionate about it). He never tried that again.
They get along great nowdays, though a lot of their interactions consists of good natured sniping at each other. Uula is never going to let him live out the incident.
* He’s not actually a jerk, the horns are legitimately impressive thing for trolls.
So did the Doctor remember all his memories with Clara? I'm still confused about that.
Okay, so I have a feeling about this. So, it might not be accurate to how everyone perceives it but this is what I got from Hell Bent and now confirmed with Class.
So the neural blocker removed the memories of Clara Oswald, but Clara was such a big part of his life, that it’s just too much to remove. So stories replaced the memories.
This is sort of how I picture it. In reference to something different entirely:
Have you ever tried to recapture a story from your childhood. A childhood friend maybe or something. You can remember the adventures you had, the stories you made up together in the playground or the time that you fell over and they helped you sit on the step.
But remembering their face is difficult, like a blur. The way they laughed or smiled, you remember what they are and what they were to you, but you just can’t see it. Their voice is gone too. You know it was kind, but you don’t know if it was loud or soft, or a monotone. You can’t remember how they walked, unless someone tells you they had a limp.
And then you’re like, oh yeah, they had a limp, but you don’t remember it ––– you remember being told it.
—- I know that what I’m describing is fictional, but this is what happens to my memory now. This is what I think happened to the Doctor. She’s someone who he knows was important but he can’t remember the details.
And the devil is in the details. How can you find someone if you can barely remember their name? Moffat has suggested to us this way that the stories we tell ourselves about days past that last, and not the memories. We will all be stories to someone and in that way, nobody dies or gets left behind.
I’ll finish with the words from Robin Hood in Robots of Sherwood: “Perhaps we will both be stories. And may those stories never end. “
god the girl across the hall, who i got coffee with and stuff….she’s so DORKY! she decorated her door for halloween and put out a plastic pumpkin with candy. every week she changes what’s written on the door, and this week it’s “for sale: batarangs and kryptonite, if you plan to destroy the universe” and i know she loves TMNT and batman beyond (which is my FAVORITE animated batman story i LOVE terry mcginnis) and god she’s so CUTE and i just…vldhxneixjdixndixndk i really want to be better friends but i don’t know how to talk to her because she’s shy and im shy and that’s not a good combo