#my one dream is unattainable. so. where do i go from here. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrinafria · 4 days

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And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you. (CoS)

[contains spoilers; tw: blood]

When they ask me about the purest love story out there, I'd show them these two.

It's not the sacrifice per se that makes it great for me, it's the way they feel about each other, about the love they give and receive. Even in their last/worst moments, they somehow find the courage because the other one is safe? Im Sol is scared out of her mind handling this traumatic ordeal on her own so she seeks help from the detectives. Her only peace of mind is that at least Seon Jae is safe. Then she learns about his phone call and doesn't spare a second to run. The same girl who was so scared a while back throws all caution out of the window the moment Seon Jae is in danger, because she'd risk her life than Seon Jae's. Can you imagine the trauma seeing him dying for the third time, and her actually witnessing it this time around? If I were Im Sol, I would do anything to not have to go through that too. Even if it meant losing the person so they were never my person to begin with.

And Seon Jae. Boy is dying. Dying. You can see it in his eyes that he's aware of it too and yet, he is so grateful? So at peace with himself and with life? Like he has no regrets about any unfinished business, unlived years, unattained dreams, unspoken words to his loved ones. He already told Im Sol he loved her, and she reciprocated. That was enough. For him, that was good enough.

I go back to this scene like a masochist because THE DETAILS. By the time Im Sol arrives, you know Seon Jae is beyond saving. He knows it too. He's not even trying to escape or save himself. It looks like he's been holding on on his own for a while. His face has turned ashen, breathing uneven, hands slightly shaking. He's barely holding it together. Barely there.

However, he is not trying to push that guy away or take that knife out.

Instead, he's holding that guy's hand.

Let that sink in for a moment.

He is holding on to that hand. JUST SO HE CAN HOLD ON TO THE GUY.

Since the taxi driver is at an advantage here, and Seon Jae knows he cannot fight back anymore, so he is using whatever he can as a last resort to keep the guy occupied with him, and keep him from going after Im Sol. Seon Jae could perhaps guess Im Sol would arrive any time since the cliff was where he'd found her earlier, sitting in shock. But even if she didn't make it, you can bet he'd have spent his last breaths trying to fall off the cliff taking the guy down with him. THIS SCENE. The resolution is so clearly etched on his face.

And then he sees her. And the detectives. She is safe. She is saved. He did it. He saved her. And it's the Im Sol who knows him, who recognizes him, who loves him. She is safe, and that's all that matters. He saved the person he loves more than his life, literally.

His job is done. The choice he made gave him the outcome he wanted and desperately fought for.

And he is exhausted. All that resolve took a lot out of him. So we see his body finally giving up, him finally letting go. He resigns to his fate, but also not in a resentful way. He knew this was his fate all along (because no matter what choice Im Sol made, he'd choose to run toward her any day), it just happened earlier than expected. But he knew it, and he still made that choice. He doesn't regret it because he'd be making the same choice in every timeline (as he has been). He is able to see his Im Sol for one last time before his eyes close, with memories of their time together and Im Sol's voice echoing in his ears, his soul.

Sometimes you know the consequences, but make the same choice anyway. Because you like it.

The faint smile on his face in his final moments before he falls off the cliff? You'd think the boy won a gold medal for swimming or something. It's like he's achieved the biggest purpose there was in his life besides loving Im Sol. True to his words, he is grateful Im Sol exists in the world. That he got the chance to love her because she exists in this world. And he is thankful he gets to leave the world knowing Im Sol still exists in the world, his gift from the heavens.

One is jumping through space and time, living the same nightmare, constantly, over and over again, and yet going out of her way to save her love. Even if it means carrying the trauma and heartbreak and pain and loneliness and longing of three, four, multiple timelines, for the same guy. The other is making the choice to love her through all the storm, all the warnings, all the odds of time and space and fate stacked against him. How could you be so brave when fate is both so very kind and yet so extremely cruel to you no matter what you do? How do you choose to persevere? How do you get to have a love so pure?

Should I be ready to die if I want to be with you? - Ryu Seon Jae

#Lovely Runner #Byeon Woo Seok #Kim Hye Yoon #Sun Jae #Im Sol #Seon Jae #선재 업고 튀어 #kdrama #kdrama recommendations #east asian drama #episode reaction #I'm focusing on seon jae here because this scene will stay with me forever #and tbh I don't write a lot about im sol cuz it's too traumatizing to think through her perspective T_T

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myhaikyuuacademia · 8 months

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Hey May i have a scenario of OPLA Sanji encouraging a female reader who's introverted and lacks confidence into following their dreams

yes, you may! Here you go~

Dreams | Sanji x reader (OPLA)

[Request] Summary: Sanji encouraging you to follow your dreams A/N: he's such a sweetheart. It's a bit short sorry!

It started when the strawhats declared their dreams. Everyone, one after one declared their big dreams and ambitions, but when it was your turn, you weren’t sure. It felt stupid to say, but you felt compelled to tell them something, anything, to alleviate the feeling of stares and uncomfortable silence. “um. I guess. I guess my dream is to find my dream?” You fumbled with the hem of your shirt and avoided their eyes. Already then you felt the burning of Sanjis eyes on you. “Don’t worry about it darling, we’ll surely figure something out.” He said with his signature drawl. “Yeah!” Luffy chimed in enthusiastically, pumping up his fist. You just nodded slightly, wanting this to be over and done with.

Ever since that day, Sanji has been, well, pestering you. You expected this from Luffy, who was so unbelievably passionate about personal dreams, but in the end it was Sanji who disturbed you every single time without fail while you were trying to read or do some mindless tasks to keep you occupied on the ship. Like right now for instance. Even on the crow’s nest where you’d tried to escape and find peace from him for once, he’d found you, nose buried in your journal. He grinned at you, arms folded over the edge of the reeling and his head atop them. He’d been chipping away at you bit by bit and that smug little bastard knew it. “Hello Darling.” He purred. “Found you.” Ignoring the way your stomach fluttered you put down your book and scrunched up your face. “Hi Sanji…” He just smirked at your less than enthusiastic tone. Effortlessly he got up and swung first one of his legs and then the other to join you inside the small, enclosed space. Slowly you lowered the journal and closed it, leaving it to rest in your lap. “Why you hiding, gorgeous?” Sanji asked after he settled in next to you, legs crossed. It still made you very flustered whenever he called you a pet name, but he did it so often, that you slowly got used to it. And he did it with other girls too, so that made you calm down more as well. It was just a thing he did, you told yourself. “You know why.” He rolled his eyes, grinning. “Aw come on sugar.” You refused to meet his eyes and instead kept them trained on your lap where you were playing with the pen in your hands. “You still have no idea what it is you want in life?” His voice was gentler this time, trying to coax a reply out of you. “No… I kinda do.” You admitted finally. It just seemed so unattainable you didn’t even know why you should bother, so you kept quiet once you figured it out. “Then what’s the problem?” He was being so sweet, it made it hard to resist doing whatever he wanted you to. But you really didn’t want to tell him and have him get your hopes up. “Nothing, just forget about it.” You sat in silence for a few moments, when he reached out to put a finger under your chin, guiding your face towards his, to make you look at him. “Come on, tell me.” He said softly, removing his finger slowly when you didn’t turn to look away again. “It’s…” you started, hesitant. “I mean. It’s not like I can accomplish it anyway. So it doesn’t matter, y’know?” Even though you didn’t turn to look away again, your eyes had trouble staying on his as you confessed your lack of confidence to him and they flitted from place to place to avoid eyecontact. “What are you talking about?” He almost seemed offended. “You don’t think you can do it? Darling, you’re extraordinary! Why are you doubting yourself?” Your cheeks burned and you bit your lips in a nervous habit, still avoiding looking directly into his eyes. “no no no, this won’t do. Come on.” Sanji stood up and held out his hand for you. You took it hesitantly and gentleman he was, he helped you stand up. “You, sweetheart, can do anything. Especially something as important as following your dreams. And if you can’t believe in yourself I will believe in you twice as hard.” His hand was still holding yours and he gave it a squeeze. “If you don’t think you can do it alone, I will help you, hell, the whole team will. We have your back.” He was saying it so emphatically, like he believed every single word. “From the bottom of my heart, I truly think you can achieve anything you set your mind to.” It made it hard not to believe him too, even if just a little bit, for now. Feeling yourself get emotional you tried to lighten the situation and rolled your eyes playfully while you pulled your hand out of his. “Man, you’re a really good cheerleader aren’t you.” Mock-annoyance in your voice as you sniffled, trying to get rid of the tears that were almost on their way. “Only for you.” He winked with a grin. “I mean it though.” You knew he did.

He was still by your side every day after that, cheering you on and helping you to believe in yourself.

#x reader #fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction #imagine #mhaf-writes #Sanji x reader #OPLA #OPLA Sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #One Piece #One Piece imagine #Live action one piece #OPLA x reader #OPLA imagine #live action one piece imagine #fluff #fluffy

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reasonsmandy · 3 months

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You matter to me

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @itzajeanspears — Hi!!! Love your writing so much!! Not sure if you’re still doing requests lol, butttt I have a really specific one so if you’d be able to do this I’d like actually die omg. Okay so I’m a fashion student from LA and I was thinking, the reader is like basically siblings with billy and Graham, (her dad and their mom started dating when they were kids so they were practically raised together) but she’s closest with Eddie in particular. They’re best friends. They’ve basically been attached at the hip since they were kids. They’re both secretly harboring feelings for each other and everyone knows it but themselves. She’s been there for them since the band started, like Camilla, making them outfits for gigs and stuff. and Eddie even takes her to prom when her date ends up being a jerk to her. Butttt the reader ends up moving to LA to go to fashion school (maybe eventually she can be their costume designer for the aurora tour 🙏) and Eddie slowly stops talking to her god knows why. Fast forward- The band moves out to LA and they stay with her until they’re stable enough to be out on their own. The tension is super high between her and Eddie and EVERYONE notices. Super Angsty. Ends in fluff and love confessions 🫶 maybe angry billy lol. AGAIN THANK YOU!!! I know that was super complicated. YOUR WRITING AND EDITS ARE AMAZINGGGG !!

✧.* you're reading part two, here's the part one — A letter?

✧.* summary — Eddie was waiting for your response, and when it never came... A wall was built between you.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 3.5k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I know it took me forever!!! I'm so sorry, please enjoy! And let me know your thoughts about it :)

I have no idea how to start this, my head has been a mess since our last conversation. I'm sorry for the way I left, I should've been more polite involving all we've been through in the last couple of months. I confess that I don't understand why you thought I couldn't support you in this situation, I've seen you dreaming about this day since I was ten years old, where we chatted about school and unattainable plans for the future… Seeing you achieve everything you dreamed of is like being hit by a ray of sunshine, I am deeply proud of you.

I wish you all the best on this new journey in your life, you are great and your talent is not left behind! Know that you wouldn't be there if it weren't for all your extraordinary talent. There is something in everything you do that exudes originality and no one can take that away or dispute it from you.

I decided to respect your choice and not go to see you on the day of your departure, I confess that this is demanding a lot from me, but I do everything to see you well. I hope you have a great trip and a great life there too.

I don't want to lie to you, I really hope you write me back, I have a huge hope that you'll give me another chance and we can work things out... I'll understand if you don't want that, I just want you to keep in mind that I love you. Fly towards your dream, and when you miss home, maybe my words will warm your heart.

Yours, Eddie Roundtree.

The bassist seals the letter with trembling fingers, he knew you would leave tomorrow and he still had his doubts about what he was going to do.He wanted to come see you before the match, kiss you gently, hug you as if you were going to escape at any moment... But he couldn't, if that was your choice he would respect that.

He knocks on the Dunne house three times, his hands trembling as he waited impatiently with the letter in hand.

"Eddie? What are you doing here so early my dear?" Mrs Dunne's sweet voice asks, she was quiet, probably because she was the only one awake in the house.

"I— I came to give this to Y/N." He extends the paper to her, confused, the older girl takes the object.

"Do you want to come in?" She asks, opening the door for him.

"No no, thank you." He seemed nervous, afraid that you would show up at any moment. "I really just came to leave this"

The madness was crazy the morning you were going to leave, you waited in secret for Eddie, a hope that he would appear was growing in you even though you wanted to kill it. Everyone else had made a point of saying goodbye, even Warren had stopped by to leave you some chocolate for the flight, but nothing from your boyfriend.

That's what you were, right? After all, there was no ending, not formally in so many words... Anxiety made you fear that when he left that had been your final point.

You open your arms to hug your considerate mother, Mrs. Dunne had been very present to you since she came into your life and saying goodbye was harder than you thought.

"I'll miss you so much." Her choked voice says, and you hold her closer.

"Oh honey, I'll miss you too." She answers, still holding you. "Anytime you need us, you just have to call. You have a family here."

At this point you were already in tears, and you let the hug go to wipe them away.

"Look." She starts to say, opening her bag to hand you something. "Eddie asked me to give you this."

Your eyes widen, you take the letter in your hands and leave for your new life.

…

You open the drawer of the nightstand next to your bed and return the letter to the place it always rests still not being able to open it, a sigh leaves you as you relive the night you had just had. Now that you were in the same city everything was more vivid, it was like living your teenage years again and it was frustrating. Of course you missed your friends and your brothers, but feeling Eddie's look at the back of your head was a huge distraction that kept increasing many questions in the same.

Eddie let the air out of his lungs as his body collapsed onto the bed he had fought for hours with Warren for, He lights a cigarette while staring at the ceiling and gradually sees the smoke draw your face, He hated how all the feelings he had put so much effort into hiding returned like the tide flooding over him, it was frustrating how you could make his heart race in a way no drug could ever manege to.

He knew that maybe all he had to do was just get over it, and that's all he was trying to do since you left Pittsburgh and him. Eddie was never the kind to get attached to relationships easily, he was used to having one night stands or just casual dating, so when his heart was captured by your gaze and the funny feeling of falling in love... He didn't know what to do.

The cigarette had come to an end and sleep had not even threatened to arrive, Roundtree sits on the bed regretting it before even finishing what he planned to do. He might not have talked to you during the party, but he was a good listener, something he didn't know if it was a blessing or curse until then.

He puts his leather jacket over the blouse he had worn to the party he attended hours ago, also grabbing some cigarettes before going down the stairs of the new house towards the keys to Rojas' van. He considers going to the drummer's room to tell him that he had borrowed the vehicle, but settles for writing a note in letters large enough for him to notice while he looks for it.

He let in his breath once again, shaking his head as he starts the van and heads towards what haunts his mind.

...

The three rings on the door make you lazily get out of bed, your arms go to the blouse thrown on the table before answering.

"Eddie?" You say between shock and yawn, your hands fix your hair automatically.

He avoids your gaze, looking directly at the ground as if he is very anxious. You wait for an answer, but nothing comes out of his mouth, you take a step forward taking his hand and leading him inside.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, after you both sit at the table in your living room.

"I don't know." He lets it out, wondering if he should actually do what he had planned. "I wanted to talk to you about everything."

"In the middle of the night?" You let out a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

"I couldn't sleep, sorry I woke you up." He looked embarrassed, but it was as if being there was more comfortable than anything he had been doing before knocking on the door.

"We can talk, no problem.”

"With us moving here I imagine we'll see each other more often than we have over the years." He looks you in the eyes, the red of the cigarette in them. "And I don't want there to be a fight between us, I don't want there to be things that aren't clear."

You let the air out, trying to look as if you were mature for this situation. "What do you mean by that?"

"Even with our history, is everything ok between us?" He wanted to tell you that the answer was no, that he hadn't forgotten you, but it stayed in his throat just like the growing knot.

"For me yes, but for you I'm not sure." You are honest, letting the frustration go with your words. "You were the one who ignored me the whole party, I felt seventeen again."

"You don't need to be sarcastic." He says rolling his eyes.

"Since when do you call the truth sarcasm?" He arches his eyebrows at your response, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "What I meant is that I'm over it, I just don't know if you are."

"You know what..." He gets up, adjusting his jacket on himself. "I think we've cleared that up, let's just be polite to each other and that's it. I see you around."

"You're kidding right?" A mocking laugh is let out by you, disbelief shines through. "Is that what you consider resolution?”

"I'll see you around." He says, you get ready to close the door. "Let's just keep things between us, like before."

Your eyes roll back and you slam the door shut, anger and confusion rising in your chest. How can he just show up in the middle of the night to turn your life around like that? You only feel the tears when they fall on your arm, was it frustration? You preferred to believe so, but seeing him treat you with so much indifference was painful.

Still angry, you go to the nightstands and open the drawer to take the letter in hand. Your vision blurred with emotions growing, you tear it apart and as soon as the first cut is made the rest are just a trigger for the pieces on the floor. You cry, regretting it and at the same time wanting to disappear... It hadn't even been twenty four hours since he had returned to your life and everything was chaos.

You collect the pieces and place them inside the box you found, trying your best not to glue the pieces together to read something that could be your answer.

...

You had done a good job of trying to forget about Eddie Roundtree, you had gone out with a few people and avoided running into him as much as possible when you met the band. But that became impossible when his brother went to rehab and his niece was born.

You moved into their house to help with the baby, Camila had never been so vulnerable and you couldn't feel more angry at Billy than in those first few months. Of course, you knew he wasn't one hundred percent to blame, addiction wasn't easy and it made you very sad to know he was like this.

Your move wasn't complete, you slept there some nights and other nights you went back to your house or studio to create some pieces of clothing. It was hard to face Eddie every day, but you two made a point of avoiding each other as much as possible.

It was hard to remember why you didn't like Eddie much when he was being so kind every day by your side, you start to remember why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was kind, funny, he helped everyone, but he was still the one that left you. And that was certainly the impasse for you to sympathize with him once again.

Night fell on the horizon as you leaned over the counter, a cigarette between your lips as you thought about everything at the same time.

"I see you still like the sunset, sunshine." The nickname makes your spine shiver, you don't turn around, you just let him get closer to you. "It always reminds me of you."

The chill comes to your belly, you turn away in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

He rolls his eyes, “Trying to get along with you, is it that hard?"

You let out a sigh, avoiding his eyes. "You want us to be friends?"

"What's the harm on that?" he asks, resting himself.

You shrug, trying your best not to ask every single question that haunted you over the years.

"You made yourself pretty clear that day in my place." That's all you say.

"Why are you acting like I'm a bad guy?" He's confused, upset in his eyes.

"You can't just keep doing this to me, appearing in my life and just leaving me!" You let out your frustrations, he looks at you without understanding. His gaze fixed on your eyes was overwhelming.

"What do you mean?" His voice was trembling, he took a deep breath. "Look, I know I acted childish that night, I shouldn't have just popped at your place and said those things. But I mean what I'm doing right now, I made one mistake... You're really going to blame me for the rest of my life?"

"One mistake?" You tried your best to hold back your urge to cry. "Look Eddie, it's been a long time. I understand if you forgot everything we've been through, I don't want to..."

"You're acting like I didn't care for you. Like I don't care." His voice was calm, it left you disconcerted.

"How can you say that you care for me if you haven't even reached for me all these years?" You turn to face the sky, trying to keep calm.

"I was respecting you!" He avoided coming closer, even though he wanted to take your hand in his. "I told you that! I—...

He stops when he sees your confused eyes, concern takes over his.

"You didn't read the letter, did you?"

You swallow hard, he waits for your answer but you open your mouth and close it without saying anything.

"Did you receive it?" He asks, you nod your head. "I don't understand..."

"I never read it." You confess, looking at your feet.

"Why?" He felt exposed, hurt.

You don't answer, he seems devastated.

"Fuck." He says passing his hands through his hair. "I can't believe this."

He left, leaving you alone with the sunset.

You made a point of coming home that day, there was no way you wouldn't go back to read that letter, your heart was aching with all the emotions that came up this afternoon. You were overwhelmed and feeling guilty, but at the same time confused... You needed answers.

When you managed to put the pieces together it was difficult to tell what was there, but your body softened and your heart tightened. There was your answer.

...

Daisy Jones was responsible for the band's growth after Billy's relapse, 'Honeycomb' was a masterpiece and the whole world knew it when those chords sounded on the radio. You were happy and proud for all of them, it was great to see them all achieving a dream that you followed from the beginning.

You were really excited to go on tour with them, You had already made many different pieces and I'm really looking forward to seeing them using what you created for them from the beginning. Today was the day of the first show, if you weren't even going to be on stage, you were nervous, you couldn't imagine how they were.

You couldn't contain the tears of emotion when you saw them there, the fans screaming excitedly and a long-time dream coming true, it was an amazing feeling and you were so happy to be part of this somehow.

It wasn't easy to deal with the information about the last situation you had with Eddie, of course, Billy had returned and you had spent less time together but that whole scene never left your mind. You tried to expel the flashes as much as possible while pretending to listen to what Camila was saying.

"Swetie, are you paying attention to me?" She says between a laugh, the music from the celebration party made it hard to hear her.

"Aham." You lie, watching Eddie talk to Warren and another girl you didn't know a few steps away. Camila follows your gaze, and turns with an arched eyebrow.

"What's going on?" She asks, her voice softly.

"I feel like I'll never be able to leave what we had behind me." You felt the words leave your mouth with honesty for the first time in a while.

"Have you told him that?" She asks, looking between you and him.

"I'm pretty sure he hates me, so..." You let out a breath, trying to hold back your tears.

"Eddie could never hate you Y/N."

"How can you be so sure?" You take a sip of your beer, avoiding looking at the distant group.

"Oh honey, if you only knew how many times he told me how he felt... How many songs I heard—

"Songs?" You cut her off, holding her arm. "He wrote songs about me?"

"Many." She responds, stroking his hand with a motherly affection. "You should talk to him."

You gather all your strength to follow her advice, and little by little you get closer to them. Warren is the first to notice you, waving in a comical way for you to come closer, Eddie avoids your eyes, the girl greets you with a small smile.

"Hey guys, the show was amazing." They smile at your congratulations. "I'm really proud of you guys."

"Thank you sunshine." Eddie says, almost regretting using the nickname. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay." You say under your breath. "Look, can we talk alone for a second?"

"Sure." He turns to Rojas and the curly-haired woman. "I'll be right back."

Automatically you take his hand and guide him to a more private place, it's a few seconds of silence before you know how to start. He doesn't rush you, he just waits for you to feel good to begin with what you had planned.

"I read your letter." That's all you can say, he swallows hard. "I'm sorry it took me so long..."

"It's okay, it doesn't matter anymore." He tries to say, but you cut him off.

"It does! It matters and you know it." Tears manage to fill your eyes. "We matter for each other, you matter to me... And I don't know about you, and I know it's probably too late but I can't forget you."

He takes a step closer to you, never taking his eyes off of you. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I love you." A choked laugh comes out of you, it was impossible to contain it all longer.

"Fuck." He holds your face in his hands, touching your foreheads together. "Please, don't mess with me." He jokes.

"I'm done building this wall between us." Her voice was honest, her eyes never stopped staring into his. "I just want to be with you."

He kisses you, a kiss you've missed for years, a connection of souls, an inexplicable feeling. His hands cupped your cheeks and caressed your skin, you pulled him close to feel him after so long. He would always be your point of comfort.

"I love you too." He whispers against your lips, your eyes closed. "I love you so fucking much."

"I know it took a while but I kind of want to stay with you." You joke, he lets out a laugh.

"We can tell our children that we've been dating all this time, they don't need to know about this hiatus" He says while caressing your hair.

"Children?" Rojas' voice made you jump in fright. "Damn, you guys are emotional, huh?"

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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sailingintothenight · 1 year

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“To you, with love.”

SUMMARY: You and Tom do the interview with puppies, and at the end of it, a truth is revealed.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle.”

“Get in there, guys.”

“Hello beautiful.”

“You can go to sleep and come to live with (Y/N) and I to our apartment. Darling, there is no other option but to get married and adopt these puppies.” Tom teases you, winking at you as he plays with the puppies in front of him.

You look away after a while of looking at him, but every minute, every second your heart is ahead of you and makes you think and wonder what is that exciting feeling that you have every time you look into his eyes full of love.

The stage is set for you two as you sit in front of the cameras, in a pink background.

“Hello everyone, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I play Avery in Spiderman: no way home and Anna in the film adaptation of the book Anna and the French kiss.”

"I love those." Tom says and shoots you a flirtatious look, making you laugh as he points in your direction before saying the next words, full of pride. “Hi, I'm Tom Holland, I’m her boyfriend and we are going to get married to adopt these puppies."

"Stop it." You say shyly, holding back a smile, although if you and Tom Holland could choose your favorite place in the world, to live in an eternity, it would be next to each other, no matter where you two were, but, as best friends, as everyone in the world knows you two for.

“I play Peter Parker and Étienne St. Clair and we're here with Buzzfeed Celeb to play with these puppies while answering questions, so let’s get started and please bring the puppies!"

What is the best part of playing Avery and Peter?

“Well… For me one of the best parts was to work with…” You leave the answer half-hearted as Tom raises his eyebrows playing with the puppies, sweetly waiting for you to say his name and not that of another great actor or actress with whom you had the opportunity to share screen during that time. "Tom Holland of course.”

"Yes!" Tom sings victory when he hears his name, and he smiles beautifully, because Tom has the most beautiful smile you have ever seen, with those autumn-colored eyes and semi-long hair that make him look like an angel or a dream that you would never want to wake up from, and in that moment, you wonder how he is still a silent and unattainable love even when you had him by your side, so close, yet, so unreachable. "She loves me very much."

"I could say other great names, but... well." You feign seriousness as he shoots you a doubtful look, making you laugh when he looks hurt for a second as you hold a puppy. “The best thing about playing Avery is that we see how her personality evolves throughout these three movies, her starting out as someone closed and tough to someone you can trust with your life because you know she will protect you, because she learned to trust in those who showed her sincerity, like Peter.”

"Yeah, you're right, I mean... for me the best thing was seeing these two characters grow." Tom says, following the thread of the conversation. “I loved the fight sequences that we had that we got to do ourselves. We both trained hard to be able to play the characters that we dream of at some point in our lives so that's great. And I think what makes it so special is that there was real chemistry between us, which is why you can see Peter and Avery so close in the movie. The same with Anna and Étienne."

Is it true that on the poster for Spider-man: No Way Home, isn't that Tom Holland?

"I'm not." Tom laughs.

"It's definitely not, that's not his body."

"Aw, look at her how she knows my body so well." Tom wags his eyebrows at the camera, earning a smack on the arm from you making him laugh. “But no, it's not really me. Also, when have you seen me do that pose on camera? It's strange!"

"Now I'm curious to know who is the person behind that pose. Right, baby?" You say to the puppy in your arms.

“Right, darling.” Tom answer.

Wasn't it strange to have kissed several times in the movies considering that they are best friends?

You and Tom look at each other for a moment, your cheeks turning pink from the question you both silently asked yourselves.

“We try to be as professional as possible.” Tom says, scratching the belly of another puppy. “I think the kisses we gave each other came out naturally because of the love we have for each other. It wasn't uncomfortable at all."

In a certain part it was true. You've known each other since you were kids, but your feelings for him got in the way every time you had to do a romantic scene, yet you were as professional as possible.

If you could be in any other series or movie, what would it be?

“I would like to participate in temptation. (Y/N) is doing super well there and it's a great story. I would like to be a part or at least do a cameo.”

"I can make some calls." You laugh, though you're also serious if it means having him around for months again.

If you weren't a movie star, what profession would you have chosen?

"Tom would definitely have been a carpenter." You joke.

"I think so." He laughs. “I'm not good at math but I'm good at putting things together. I think (Y/N) would have been a doctor or a vet, she loves animals. That's why she doesn't eat meat, although she doesn't know what she's missing."

Could it be possible that there is a relationship between you not told to the public?

You and Tom laugh awkwardly.

“We've been friends pretty much since we were born,” says Tom. “Our moms have been best friends since college and when they both got pregnant the same year it was like: our kids have to be best friends too. But with us it happened naturally, we grew up together, we like the same things and we are united. (Y/N) knows that I love her with all my heart.”

With a puppy in his arms, Tom lies in your lap and gives the camera a sweet smile.

Do you know that fans ship you two together?

“I've seen a lot of that online." You reply. “We have seen a lot of fan art about us, we have seen requests for us to participate together in different book-to-film adaptations because they say we would do a great job together. I think it's lucky that the fans like us so much.”

Have you practiced kissing scenes in private or is it something that comes naturally?

Tom chuckles.

“I will leave that question to the public imagination. Since we even won an MTV award for best kiss, 2 times, I'll leave the fans curious."

As the interview flows, you innocently play and flirt a little from time to time, just to soothe that pain of not being able to be together, although neither of you knows exactly why.

Sometimes, life happens in a second, and for Tom Holland and you, falling in love, too.

And even if you don't know it, Tom hates that you're his best friend in the world, because under the starry nights when you can't sleep and you sneak into each other's room to talk, wherever you two are, or just to exist in each other's company. You look like an angel, his angel, his darling as he usually calls you with the appropriate tone of best friend, because no one can know about his love for you. Except everyone knows, that's for sure, except you, but that's fine as long as you don't discover the secret that lies deep in his heart where his love for you will last forever. Tom is selfish, he knows it, because he went out with some girls to try to erase all traces of you, because he knows that one day soon you will fall in love with someone other than him, and even though that hurts his soul.

Tom secretly hates his love for you, but the secret of his hate is for your beauty, for the way you see the world through your eyes, as beautiful and deep as the uncharted ocean itself, for your free heart when you do things so that everyone is happy, for your tender smile that you give to everyone equally without thinking about their weak and fragile heart, and for that blessed dimple that forms on your left cheek when you smile and your eyes do too.

As you two both reach the limo that will take them back to your hotel, you both smile at each other now that the adrenaline has passed and only calm remains in the solitude of the car.

"I think we did great, didn't we, darling?"

"I think so." You say with a certain sadness, because sometimes, you do want to be his darling, but you know that everything had a limit, but you know too that one day you would cross the line that divided friendship from love, and that day, with the force with which you lied saying that there was nothing between you, you decide to tell the truth. "Oh, by the way, I'm going to adopt one of the puppies so we can get married and live happily ever after."

Tom looks at you in astonishment, but his stupor only lasts a few seconds, because for he, brave this time and armed only with the truth of the love he felt for you for half his life, leans down to kiss you softly on the lips before talk.

"I can not wait."

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader

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scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year

Note

Hellu,

your recent post about Obi quittting the Order and becoming a senator on coruscant made feel some type of way and now I’d like to request a one-shot of Obi leaving the Order, becoming a successfull senator on coruscant and being in love with fem!reader. I dont care how you put her into the mix but I kinda imagine her as a senator as well and maybe they fell in love after he left the order and they met at a convention or something like this.

Oh and I adore your writings and am a huge fan of “conquered”-it’s awesome.

I received another request for Senator Obiwan haha and so I had to do it justice.

Hope you like it!

Word count: 2600

---

The Coruscant Spectacle

“Does he know?”, The reporter asked. You grew silent, it was easier to answer the other questions in this interrogation and make peace with the irony because of how it had all begun.

You wanted to make chief editor of the Coruscant times but you needed a story that would shatter the masses. As a woman, being caged with the daily columns of keeping the public enlightened about fashion trends made all this feel like an unattainable dream. It was, until you heard the news of his resignation. A Jedi abandoning the order and making it known to the public was, well the most scandalous thing to occur. Only that no one knew why? And as the rain engulfed you in it’s cold wrath, you knew you had found the perfect pawn for your game.

“That I love him?”, you asked softly.

“That you did not leak the article to the press.”, he corrected you. This metal room felt lonely and the hurt in your heart only caused more pain as you sat there, dejected. You had hurt the most innocent man, the man you loved, all for nothing.

“Oh that.”, you sniffed, tears where almost brimming.

“No.”, you said, suddenly having enough of all this.

“Is that all? I have a transport to catch.”, you furrowed your brows and it would seem that even the reporter pitied you. He had once been your colleague but now you were just another coruscant spectacle.

“That is all.”, he let you go and you left grabbing your things. This planet had burned you through.

---

It begun when you had disguised yourself as a lowly administrator looking to affiliate yourself with a senator, more precisely to become a part of his office. And so you did, working up the ranks, collecting pieces of information, living a dual life and it was all going well until Obiwan asked you to accompany him to a dinner with the press. He was going to make his debut at the Senate so the press wanted to know his thoughts and why he would be able to make a change.

“Why me?”, you had asked him as you matched his steps. A question out of your own curiosity when he stopped to look at you, a smile on his lips.

He took a moment to regard you. “I like your eyes, they never lie. You speak the truth and today I need it.”, he explained. His words, that moment, soon became the chink in your armour.

You stood by the sidelines, when he took to the podium to answer questions that had long been in the public’s mind, questions that had often plagued you having come to know how he truly was like. Kind and generous and compassionate. He didn’t deserve the backlash and yet he was standing here.

The Journalists began to plague him with questions that he answered patiently.

Why did you leave the order?

"I am a man who takes purpose from being of service and in many occasions I was not allowed to aid those that needed help when I was a part of the council. But I also did it for love and I will not elaborate on that."

Do you still keep to your Jedi ways, even though you live opulently as a senator?

"I do. Although now I have given myself the permission to enjoy certain comforts without the guilt. Most of what I earn is given back to the people or to fund my policies, so opulent wouldn’t be the term I would use."

How are you feeling for tonight?

He looked at the crowd when slowly he said.

"I would like my public relations manager to answer that. Most of what you see me as is all her work of art and she is the person I trust most."

The pang in your gut was too real, so real that you could feel your mind blank as you walked up to him amidst the flashing camera lights.

His smile, his hand on the small of your back ever so slightly caressing your exposed skin, his eyes looking into yours with utmost belief while you …

You cleared your throat and smiled to the expectant crowd. But as you were collecting your thoughts, he leaned in close, almost as if he was about to hug you, his lips touched the edge of your ear, “Tell me you believe in me.”, he whispered and you knew this day was all that you were going to remember your whole life because the months spent working beside him and with him had caused you to fall in love with him. You had abandoned the article, you had begun to live this life, all because of him.

“I haven’t crafted an image for him. He doesn’t live a dual life. What you see is exactly who he is. His love for the people and for justice is so pure you cannot help but choose his side. I believe in him and that tonight will sediment his victory in the Senate. I only used this position to get you all to see him, like I do.”, somewhere in between that you had turned to him as you spoke those words. His eyes beamed and with his golden hair he looked radiant.

Could he too feel the depth of your feelings?

The truth that sunk in was that the fraud in all this was you. So the moment you spoke the truth, you stepped away from him and left.

Months had passed and it grew exceedingly difficult to continue in this position, to work closely with him because that meant you had to see him and talk to him and notice his longing eyes and soft touches or his gentle voice asking you time and time again to join him for dinner. But you just couldn’t. You could not break his heart or take his story and run it to the ground. His fame and acclaim only grew, making it clear that you were not the woman for him. He deserved so much more.

But the day you had finished the article was also the day his bill for the clone troopers to have their only health cover and the ability to work after their service as soldiers was passed causing for a celebration. Just when you were about to escape he had somehow found you, taking your hand in his, he slipped away from his own party to his opulent suite.

“Obiwan, you should with our there, celebrating.”, you told him as he closed the door behind him. He looked rather frustrated as he walked away further. His blue shirt matched the colour of his eyes as it stretched and moved in alignment with his muscles on his back. He popped the top few buttons and rolled back his sleeves.

“Something’s wrong and you will not tell me.”, he cut straight to it. He was a negotiator, there was nothing that escaped his grasp.

His hair was set in place but as he ran his finger through it in an urgency, he looked even more distraught.

“Your campaign is a success.”, you put forth the truth to which he shook his head.

“No. Not the campaign. Us.”, he looked you in the eye as he said and the realization that there was no more room to hide became apparent.

“I didn’t know we were an item.”, you looked away.

“Don’t change the subject. That day, the press event. Why did you run?”, he drew closer but you moved away to the large living room that had an incredibly long sofa set and a warm fire.

“I had other things to attend to.”, you lied as you took a seat.

He sat next to you with enough space between you both for your pinky fingers to touch and the moment it did, it felt electric.

“I still know the ways of the Force.”, he turned to you.

“I know when you lie to me.”, he said softly.

“Obiwan.”, you whisper as a way to think of an escape but all you felt was his hand covering yours, not letting you go.

“Tell me the truth.”, he said with a noble authority.

“Everything I said then was true.”, you gave in, your heart hammering within your chest.

“Then why did you run?”, he asked again, leaning closer.

“Because I was scared.”, you said quietly and he stilled.

“Of my love for you.”, you admitted when his lips parted in the softest gasp.

“But you deserve someone better.”, you got up and he groaned.

“You deserve so much more.”, you took a step back and he glared at you.

“Don’t you think about it.”, he warned.

You picked up your pace.

“Stop running away.”, he demanded as you ran down the hallway, you didn’t have to look back to know he was chasing after you. To your surprise his droid blocked the door and so your eyes searched for any other possible exits. Having found nothing else, you ran into the colonnade that led to his garden.

“How is it that after everything, you cannot seem to understand that I have fallen for you?”, he asked catching his breath, searching for you.

You couldn’t believe it, that all this you were feeling was mutual.

“You cannot lie to me.”, he voice grew closer.

“I can hear it in the change of your heartbeat. The soft warmth of your admiration or the truth in your words. I know you feel the same. So why do you put me through this agony?”, he demanded and you couldn’t tell him the reason. It would only hurt him.

“I do not want to hurt you, Obiwan. Can you not understand?”, you ask, growing anxious that he was going to spot you and just when you moved to run further, his hand looped around your waist pinning you to his chest. You could feel his solid form behind you as he breathed in deeply with his nose resting on the length of your neck, finally at peace that he had found you and you too had given up being out of breath.

“I lost my past love because my order failed to save her. I chose to be a senator only because I could not cage my heart again. I wanted to appreciate the relationships I had in my life. I wanted to be a brother to Anakin and not his master. I couldn’t let the council accuse Ahsoka falsely. I wanted a life where I would not be condemned for those actions. And by doing so I had fallen in love again. With you. Now you deny me of it.”, his breath was hot against your skin as he embraced you.

“I do not wish to deny you of it.”, you turned to him, your face construed in pain. Because you loved him, oh how wrong he had been to believe that you were keeping it away from him.

He looked down at you, in the moonlight, his skin glimmered and he looked magnificent, like he was actually a ruler of the glistening night. You gave into the beauty of the moment and thoughts that were resounding loudly in your mind. You touched his cheek first, your thumb grazed the top of his lip and you were certain he had held his breath.

“Trust me with the keys to your heart.”, he whispered and that was all it took for you to throw open the doors of your heart to him. His hands pulled you closer as his lips found yours and for a moment that felt like a lifetime everything in the universe was right. Your back touched the column as his hand slipped under your jaw to tilt your face up to him, to kiss you till he was breathless, till you forgot about the article.

You were going to delete it, right after this, it was going to be erased. But his comms pinged and he stepped away from you. His hair a mess, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alive like the sea. His face was glowing from all the happiness and you felt the same way too.

He looked at the message and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is something the matter?”, you asked to which he turned his soft gaze back to you.

“Nothing. My presence has been requested to look at a possible leak.”, he responded.

“Do you want me to accompany you?”, you asked to which he smiled.

“No. Stay the night.”, he grinned as he kissed your forehead as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Come back soon.”, you mumbled into his chest.

He grumbled as though he didn’t want to leave so instead he placed a quick peck on your lips.

“It won’t take long.”, he said as he ran down the hallway, while you chuckled watching his retreating form. But you didn’t know that was the moment your whole world was about to be shattered.

Because when he returned, he wasn’t smiling and instead armed guards had come to take you away. Someone had leaked your article and the last thing you saw was him, seated alone on the couch, heartbroken as you were being taken away.

---

Now you were here, in the long line for a transport ship to the outer rim and a few other neutral planets. With only a small bag in your hand, you were ready to say goodbye to this wretched planet and it’s politics. The only longing in your heart was to tell him you were truly sorry and that all your love was in fact very real.

“You were his secretary weren’t you?”, some droid asked that stood behind you.

“The one that wrote this article.”, it continued but you didn’t pay it any heed.

“Leave the lady alone.”, said another voice and you were grateful for it.

“But why are you running away?”, the droid pressed further to ask and it had annoyed you. You turn to confront it.

“I am not running away. I love him too much to linger and see the pain I had caused.”, you jab your finger on its chest only to see it was a man wearing a robe, his head under a hood. But the shape of his lips and the small grin was enough to know who he was.

“What are you doing here, Obiwan?”, you whispered.

“Stopping you from leaving.”, he took your bag from your hands.

“Why?”, you stood in shock.

“I read it. The article. If it was a love letter that you wanted to publish all do was to just tell me.”, he chuckled.

“I don’t understand. You were heartbroken that night. I had caused pain once again in your life.”, you argued to which he shook his head softly and cupped your cheek.

“No I was sad that this system too did not let me protect the woman I loved.”, he drew you closer and stepped out of the line, you followed him.

“The senate wanted an investigation and I had to put you through it. I was there for all your briefings. I heard all your answers and never once did you say you did it to hurt me.”, he explained and your eyes grew wide taking in all this information.

“I believe you.”, he said finally and all you could do was hug him and let the tears fall.

“Now.”, he wrapped his arms around you.

“Don’t run off.”, he tilted your chin so he could see your face. The tear stains where fresh down your cheek, so he wiped them away.

“Never.”, you responded.

The headlines could say whatever it wanted to say. But the truth was right here, in the moment, as he held you close and took you home.

#obi wan my beloved #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x reader #obi wan #obiwan x reader #obiwan kenobi #obiwan x fluff #obi wan x you

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chuuya4040 · 6 months

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PART 2 - continuation with dazais pov! enjoy <33

part 1 is here.

Longing is within human nature.

It is within our genetic makeup as human beings, to want things we simply cannot have. To desire, to crave for something that is unattainable, with yearning pulling the arteries and veins of your heart to make it beat and scream: /I want him, I want him to be so irrevocably mine that no one will ever take him away from me./

Too bad Dazai was the one to let him go first.

Dazai does not regret his choices of leaving a place that did nothing but fester the darkness within his own sorry excuse for a heart, until his own veins were bathed with blood he no longer recognised. Although, he can’t help but feel his blood stained hands aching to feel a familiar body wrapped around his again.

A heart he does not have, yet those moments when he was around a familiar redhead, all fiery and blue painting his world, something that resembled a heartbeat roared in his chest till he thought he was going to die.

Most nights surrounded with bottles of sake in his quiet and lonely apartment, the detective dreams of hues of red and blue; the flurry of colors brightening his sky until he thought he might explode from it all. He wakes remembering a smile so bright, of hands so gentle and tender accompanied with harsh words with a soft tone.

In those 4 years spent in hiding, Dazai felt as though none of it was real. That he had simply dreamt of nights full of tangled bodies, with mornings spent in arms that made him feel more alive than any drug could ever.

Although he took what he could, even if it meant opening up the show curtains and layering on his true feelings with masks he longer recognized, with makeup and costumes he loathed to wear all to spend time with Chuuya, then Dazai would do anything. /Anything/ to feel the familiar warmth that he has been craving for 4 years swimming in his bloodstream, to feel high when he watches the deep hue of red take over the sky as the world crumbles around them.

/Anything./

“He’s my partner,” Dazai had simply told Atsushi one day before the Lovecraft fight. “He’s my annoying chib-sized dog that cannot think for himself. I can’t think of anything worse than seeing that tacky hat again.”

Atsushi had fidgeted on his seat, when he reluctantly asked “it’s been years since you last saw him.. Aren’t you worried he’ll betray you because you’re on opposite sides now?”

The detective softly chuckled, “oh, don't you know, Atsushi-kun? A dog always answers to their master, no matter how many years they’ve been apart for.”

Dazai supposes he was talking about himself in this instance. He sat with his imaginary tail wagging behind him, swaying swiftly with excitement awaiting to see the only man that could ever beacon his call.

It felt like flying, when they had finally stood side by side once again; it felt like his defective heart had finally pumped again after years when he saw the beautiful destruction of his partner and corruption.

It was a drug he couldn’t get enough of, and it was in the form of Nakahara Chuuya.

Seeing Chuuya in that port mafia bar where they used to go as teenagers and watching his (ex) partner laugh and smile softly among others, made the aching in his heart unbearable. His veins itched to feel the familiar high, to be so wrapped around in the redhead’s world that he saw him and him only.

The pinching of his heart directed him to follow the executive into the alleyway; the hole in his chest that has been growing for 4 years pushed him to hold onto the redhead; the roaring of his heart convinced him to press his lips to the familiar slope of his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he whispers against his jaw.

You make me feel so alive, he wants to scream from the top of his lungs, I had to leave, I’m so sorry, but please come back to me, Chuuya.

How did he ever let this feeling go? The feeling of someone so powerful that could tear him into shreds in seconds, that deserved someone so much better than him, that loved him like it was as easy as breathing air?

Bandaged hands dig into the amble waist, he imagines his nails breaking through the flesh until he’s bathing in his lover's blood until no one could tell them apart. He imagines peeling back the flesh, delicately opening his ribcage and making a home near his heart.

“Osamu,” Chuuya pleads, a leather glove holding whatever is left of his heart in his hand.

Tears prick in his eyes, his heart roaring in his chest hearing a name that he hasn’t heard in years coming from the man he is so irrevocably obsessed with. Say it again, he begs in his mind, say it again and tell me that I can be yours again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–

He watches the way azure eyes stare at him, with so much agony and sorrow that all Dazai wants to do is jump through his iris and swim within his mind, if only it meant he could always be with him. To die by those blue eyes would be an honor.

Seeing that weak smile accompanied with “congratulations on leaving. You did what you had to, trust me, out of everyone I fucking get that,” made the ghost of a heart in Dazai’s chest ache with agony, the hollowness in his chest spread into his limbs until they hung on by a single tendon ready to be cut off with gloved hands.

He wishes he had taken those gloved hands that night and whisked him away into the light. Though it would’ve been difficult, and the brightness of it all would’ve burned and scarred their very skin, they would’ve done it /together./ They would have figured out how to be gentle, tender and kind in a world that had only ever rejected them as children, learned how to bathe in the light rather than keen away in fear.

It would’ve been beautiful. It would’ve been magical.

The night that Dazai Osamu fled the mafia, he had only taken the clothes off of his own back and a leather choker.

If Dazai Osamu, one half of soukoku, and dubbed as the Demon Prodigy, fell asleep in those years in hiding clutching a familiar leather choker with tear stains on his pillow and his black heart spilling across the sheets; that was only for him and his four walls to know.

It was bound to happen, Dazai muses over as he watches the flurry of red and black disappear out of the alleyway.

/Everything worth wanting, is lost the moment I obtain it./

It had happened when he so foolishly believed he had found his own little safe corner in the mafia with Odasaku and Ango.He had so foolishly prayed that whatever gods that observed him from above would at least give him the decency to keep Chuuya in his life.

/You will,/ his heart roared, /you will get him back./ Dazai vows that he will do whatever it takes to get his partner, his one and only, back into his life.

And in the end, his heart will finally beat on its own, beating in all its glory and it will be beautiful.

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd #bsd fic #nakahara chuuya #skk fic #thread fic #skk angst #soukoku fic #skk fanfic #soukoku #they make me miserable #inspired by still got it by troye sivan

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afniel · 5 months

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Realizing that I went and wrote a bunch of intentionally aro relationships and my partner was like, "Idk, it seemed like normal relationships to me," and I was like, "I mean yeah it's not that different from ours, I guess, I was kind of going for 45° off from 'normal' romance," and they're like, "Okay, but ours is also pretty much like that," and I'm like, "Yeah, true," and now I'm like, damn hold up, are we both some kinda arospec and THIS is how we figure it out? Because I wrote a long-ass fic about intentionally queer-coded (among other things) robots? Life is weird, man.

Like I've been prone to extreme long-term crushes on a very few (mostly unattainable) people over the years, but I wouldn't have known what to do with them even if they worked out, and cough my ex was not even one of them. I just kind of assumed I was failing to feel a thing I was totally supposed to feel, there, and quite a lot of that relationship emotionally was me going, "Okay, I care like This, but I think I'm supposed to care like That? I'm pretty sure he cares That way. I'm not sure I do, but I mean, there's really only one way*, so maybe I'm just misreading this and actually I do care like That, I'm just bad at it."

*This was me being very incorrect, it turns out. There's all kinds of ways to love someone. It's a very inadequate and nonspecific word.

When I confessed my feelings (which I'd been sitting on for a year) to my partner, their reaction wasn't to be particularly romantic about it. In fact they told me they'd help me move to California if I wanted to. And after I got over my initial confusion of being kissed on the forehead (which is also not super romantic as a gesture and I couldn't decide how to even read that so I kinda skipped over even trying for a while), I was thinking, Awesome, that is a yes. They have promised to assist me with difficult stuff, and said nothing at all about emotions, because that's not a big deal anyway. The important thing is that I can rely on them and vice versa. Cool. We are basically together forever now. Which ended up being true. I just never moved out and now it's like 13 years later, go figure. But that's not what I think actually passes for reciprocating feelings for most people? Worked great for me though.

Anyway I feel like I have accidentally learned something about myself, lol. I guess romance is okay I guess, like it's not repulsive, but seriously, it's WAY more satisfying to me to guess someone else's Quiplash answer because you know they know you would think it's fucking funny, and you do, and because you think it's funny and you're well aware they know your type of humor and you know theirs and that you wouldn't expect them to use "cum" as an answer because that's not usually how they roll, so of course that is the only answer they can possibly give, which is instantly evident to both of you with no conversation whatsoever on the topic. When you got just one brain cell and it's quantum entangled with their just one brain cell so you have a lot of null discussions where nobody has to say anything but it's fully understood anyway, that's The Dream, if you ask me. And like I don't really think that's romantic by the usual definition. You can have that with friends and family, too. But that is what it turns out I prioritize in relationships, which I'm starting to feel like isn't what the majority of people are here for?

TFW it's hard to tell because I've been assuming I'm totally alloromantic so everything I experience must be typical totally alloromantic stuff too, but I'm starting to think it isn't maybe? But how do I even tell, this is like being colorblind, lmao.

#tfw you based a completely ace/aro relationship system off what ends up just being your normal IRL relationship #my partner read Failure To Compile and just went 'so we're coprocessors right' and I said 'yeah basically'#it was apparently not at all subtle to them and why would it be lmao they basically just Know What I'm Thinking #we have a lot of conversations that are just...*several facial expressions and a glance or two* them: 'no.' me: 'OH COME ON'#and yeah that's The Experience. 'what if an entire subculture's relationships were all like that' well it'd be great that's what #and also evidently immediately recognizable to a bunch of arospec readers #making me have to also question some long held assumptions about myself #well that's cool though. I'm always down to understand me better. and hey what a funny way to do it too #what's the point of writing something and trying to get kinda deep with it if you aren't learning from it really #this just means I'm so successful I even got myself somehow #flawless victory #aromantic #arospec #also yes the Quiplash thing happened for real just last night #I said their answer before it was even revealed and they just assumed I had somehow loaded the stream faster than them #because obviously I know what they put right?#I laughed my ass off tho

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magnificentcenturyfics · 7 months

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hello i've seen your list of ideas for Hürrem/Süleyman fits and i actually love them all soooo much but my fav is probably Hürrem telling Süleyman about Leo and also the last one!! but i actually really would like them all and can't wait to read any of them <3

Very sorry for the hiatus, I promise the rest of the fics will be out before the November 1st! Anyway, here's your obligatory mostly plotless fluff piece, trigger warning for... I guess slavery and naked tits at the end?

***

“I live in the greatest city in the world, and yet I’ve barely seen any of it.”

Streets of Istanbul entered Hürrem’s mind only very slowly. Thrust into the strange new world of the harem and put to work almost immediately, she did not have much time to dream about freedom; then, her love for Süleyman and troubles that she got into because of their relationship occupied her mind. During his absence, she oft spent her now abundant free time dreaming about transforming into a bird-of-prey and flying to the walls of Belgrade, where she would sit atop Süleyman’s tent and watch him, her bird eyes seeing better than any of his bodyguards. As time went on, her fantasies became more elaborate, with her imagining the lands she would fly over – the rolling hills, winding rivers, towns full of hustle and bustle, all of them looking suspiciously like the Carpathians, Hnyla Lipa and Rohatyn respectively. However, she remembered the sight from Süleyman’s balcony and knew the city outside of the palace walls is much different, which in turn aroused her curiosity. Indeed, her eyes of an imaginary bird focused more and more on Istanbul as well, trying to capture memories of it, as seen from the balcony not that far away from where that bird would dwell. But valide said it is improper for a woman of such low status as her to walk the streets without permission, which valide was never going to give her, and so Hürrem began to place all of her hopes of visiting the legendary Constantinople on the sultan.

Then Süleyman arrived. Shortly before Mehmet’s birth, she brought the issue up to him, but he was reluctant to give her permission, claiming he fears for her “safety and modesty”. After much begging, he conceded that a carriage ride throughout the city perhaps couldn’t hurt, once the baby is born. However, soon after that happened, that nasty business with Günihal was revealed, and special privileges, which the carriage rides seemed to be, suddenly became utterly unattainable for Hürrem. Only amidst the excitement that the news of her second pregnancy brought did she dare to ask Süleyman once again, and her request was indeed granted.

Hürrem left all but one of her servants at home – to take her on a carriage ride trough the city was the least she could do for Günihal after everything. It was Nigar who suggested their destination; Hürrem did not care much for the exact route of their trip, but the tales of Hagia Sofia managed to arouse her interest, if not really excitement. That morning, as they prepared for the trip, she and Gülnihal talked in Rusyn for the first time in months, solemnly discussing what they once had been told about the former capital of the christian world and wondering how much of the old Byzantine city is still standing. For people of the orthodox faith, fall of Constantinople was a generation-defining tragedy, their worst nightmares coming to life as the city that used to be the center of their world suddenly was „theirs“ anymore, but fell into the possession of their enemies, who then made it the jewel on their crown. Now Hürem could not make up her mind as to what to feel about the whole affair; after all, one day, her son too will rule from this splendid city, and just for him she could not perceive that infamous battle as having a wholly bad outcome. It was strange – the more Hürrem thought of old Constantinople, the more she related to the venerable city, an Orthodox girl brought to ruin by the Turks, only to be raised by them into heights she could not even imagine previously.

The city streets bore a myriad of subtle signs of prosperity – its buildings were of stone, large and seemingly well-made, streets wide and neat (well, as neat as they could get in a city) and people well-fed and dressed. Admittedly, it could’ve been (and she later learned that was in fact the case) that the area they went trough happened to be in a more prosperous part of the city, but even the poorer neighbourhoods she visited later in life were nigh comparable to any given part of Rohatyn. Hürrem could imagine this is what a city like Lviv might look like, although with architecture more resembling Rohatyn. With amazement, she observed the typical flat roofs and a tall, narrow windows with circle patterns that she knew from the palace, but so far couldn’t imagine as parts of regular buildings. The size of the city was quite memmorable as well. While at first not visible from the gound, it soon dawned on Hürrem and Günihal, as they roamed trough the streets for hours, the road to every destination seemingly endless. Nonetheless, they made up new and new excuses to go further, desiring to soak up as much of the scenery as they could, because Allah knows when they will get another opportunity to see the greatest city on Earth... And there was always further to go, that much was certain. Mosques (a shocking number of them, in her opinion), marketplaces, Byzantine ruins, even an odd church or two. And crowds, crowds so large that Hürrem could not even imagine there was so many people in the world, let alone one city. Most of the people they saw were men, with women usually covered in some way or another, whether with a cloak, headscarf or a veil. No matter where they went, whether for business or pleasure, they all seemed to be in a hury – considering how long it must’ve took to get anywhere in this blasted place, it was hardly surprising. They even made it to the waterfront, from which they got their first proper look at the sea since it brought them into the city on board of the slave ship – a memmory which made Hürrem quickly turn their coach away before they could truly enjoy the sight.

Her mood thoroughly ruined and stomach grumbling, they stopped at the market, where she sent Günihal to get them something to eat. As she grumpily pondered the long hours trip back will probably take, Hürrem watched the people around her and tried to guess who they are and where they are going. There was a woman in rich silks, one of the few to have her head uncovered, accompanying another one in even more splendid dress, crying her eyes out. Ah, a Christian bride and her relative; mayhaps the wedding was thwarted in some way, or it was about to take place later in the day (at dusk, or even in the evening?) and a good sister or aunt tried to at least somewhat cheer the poor thing beforehand by giving her the last taste of freedom... Then there was a man dressed in western style close to them, sharing lewd jokes with an elderly and obviously grumpy old Turk; she did not know what his deal was, but she was sure that, had she known him personally, she would’ve disliked him immensely. A pair of little boys were playing hide-and-seek right across the street from them, while watched a young, handsome fishseller with profound annoyance in his gaze... Their father, perhaps?

The boys were approached by a man in large turban, whose visage immediately caught Hürrem’s attention. At first, she could not believe her eyes; surely, there isn’t only one man in this whole giant city that has that distinct Graecian profile, large blue eyes and stubble slowly turning into a beard...? She didn’t quite get a direct look into his face, but she did manage to behold him from many angles, and every last one of them only confirmed the incredible truth. She considered allerting him to her presence, but she hesitated for too long; the man turned away from them and walked down the street in the opposite direction from, while Günihal arrived with some kind of flatbread filled with vegetables and richly spiced lamb. It tasted divine – Hürrem hoped palace cooks could make something like this – but it could not compare to the sight that she beheld with her own two eyes just moments prior. Oh, next meeting with the sultan is going to be fun.

Indeed, next meeting with the sultan arrived quite soon. That very evening, Süleyman surprised Hürrem in her chambers, all smiles and rosy cheeks. He looked much less regal than under normal circumstances – not that she never saw him happy and relaxed, but perhaps it was a mistake for him to come to her in such a mood on this of all nights. Indeed, it was the worst time to wake good old mischievious Alexandra...

„Mashallah!“ he called upon seeing her. „What a visage! Heavens, you should wear braids more often...“

Hürrem donned the sweetest smile she could manage at the moment without hinting at the malice in her heart. „I’ll heed your wishes, Süleyman agh- Oh, Allah! Forgive me! I meant „my sultan“! Goodness, where’s my head at?! I told her a thousand times to pay no mind to what she saw at the market...“

Süleyman’s smile faded so thoroughly it almost made Hürrem cackle. „Come again?“

„During today’s carriage ride. You must know I’ve been there; after all, haven’t I asked you for permission just a couple of days ago?“

Süleyman’s face grew sterner, almost angry. „Of course I know of that; mother complained just how long you stayed there. Weren’t you meant to only visit Ayasofia and nothing more?!“

Hürrem’s heart stopped. Fuck. Is she in genuine trouble? „Are you angry with me, my love?“

Suddenly, his anger abaded a bit, like fading tide that can’t quite reach its maximum strenght. „I should, but tonight it’s... Quite difficult. And you haven’t broken any rules besides, though you shouldn’t leave Mehmet for such long periods. No servant can care for him quite like you.“

His words took her aback. „Valide does not think so.“

„Valide does not know, or like you very well.“

The mischievious spirit that possesed Hürrem wasn’t quite gone, but it has grown a great deal more bashful. „I hope you had fun today.“ she whispered. „I mean, out there on the market.“

Süleyman’s face suddenly took on its usual humorless expression. „I wasn’t there to have fun. I visit my people in disguise, so that I might keep in touch with their needs and opinions.“

Hürrem nervously bit her lip. „That is... Admirable.“ She slowly blinked. „But it spoils my fun. What should I tell the girls in harem, that you are a great and magnanimous ruler, as if they didn’t already know?“ When Süleyman’s eyes bulged out in horror, she laughed. „Oh, you should’ve seen your face! Allah, did you really think I’d dare...“

„As if you weren’t already the very queen of audacity...!“ Süleyman called out, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her neck and throat. The sudden turn of events for the lewd made Hürrem laugh out loud. „I should be angry with you. I should...“ he murmured against her jugular.

„Well, you are the great sultan, are you not? Noone tells you what you should and shouldn’t do. Unless it’s a street vendor that tells you to not stare at things you don’t want to buy, I suppose.“

Süleyman lifted his head from her cleveage and shot her an overly serious glare. „You aren’t letting this go, are you?“

Hürrem giggled and kissed him on the lips. „Can’t the great sultan bear a few little jabs that noone else can hear from his faithful slave?“

Süleyman’s eyes trailed back to her cleveage. „No. Sometimes, you are completely unbearable.“

His eyes lit up, and set fire to Hürrem’s lower belly. Truly, the time for fun and games has passed.

Well, at least for one kind of fun and games... Hürrem thought as she grabbed the fabric covering her left breast and slowly pushed it down, untill cold night air, followed by a man’s warm breath, hit her overly sensitive nipple.

#magnificent century #sultan süleyman #hürrem sultan

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ndeyebaby · 2 years

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"This Is My Time to Shine!"

So, I'm pretty sure some of you have heard of/seen the trend on TikTok where a bunch of creators talked about the importance of being delusional with your goals. In other words, even when shown negative circumstances, or being told that something was unattainable, these people continued to think "oh I'm going to achieve this no matter what". Sound familiar? If you haven't heard of this trend, I've attached a compilation of these videos here. They can serve as great motivation!

I just realized the other day that I lowkey used their videos to help me with my manifestation journey- um sorry it took so long but I feel like what I did might really be helpful lmao

I know that the word "delusional" isn't the best way to describe manifesting, as the true delusion is letting the 3D affect your 4D, instead of the other way around. Still, I noticed this trend really was just a bunch of success stories from people outside of the LOA circle - just people who realized that changing their mind can really change their world. It was a *HUGE* deal for me when I was still manifesting a lot of my goals. Whenever I felt down or demotivated, or that I had to "start over", I would search up "be delusional" on TikTok for the push I needed to achieve my goals.

I know that most blogs would agree that manifestation is/can be instant in the 3D, but I've never really had that experience. It always really happened when I let go of time and chased the feeling of fulfillment instead of worrying about when it would happen or time crunches (was never really good at those lol.) So you can imagine that there were plenty of times where I would wake up and still see my undesirable circumstances. I won't lie and say I didn't feel disappointed cuz girl I was definitely having mental breakdowns, recording voice messages of me crying, writing in my diary and all that like girl that shit was trifling. But the mindset that helped me in the end was "this is my time to shine!"

What do I mean by that exactly? Well, in my mind, I would already live in the end, and whenever I was faced with shit in the 3D that would otherwise set me off, I would laugh it off and say "THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE!" 'Shine' meaning to be like the protagonist of my own story and being just like those TikTokers who manifested their dream lives - by being delusional even in the face of hardships. I no longer fell asleep worrying that even if I did my technique I would fail.

I no longer felt unhappy when looking at the 3D and seeing my broke ass bank account or looked in the mirror and seeing my old body/damaged hair/dead skin.

I seriously felt like the hero of my own inspirational story, because I technically was lol. And look where I am now!!! I'm still a bit hesitant to share details of my life because I want this blog to serve as a message for all of you to receive and to be of guidance, but I'm definitely living the way I want to, after a lifetime of being bullied, told I couldn't do certain things, felt like I wasn't enough. Maybe I'll share the deets another day but .... ;)))))

If I can do it, you certainly can. Believe me, I was that girl who believed you need to meditate on one foot while drinking a gallon of water and I was that person who was like "omg it's homophobic that the universe won't let me shift like ????? that was ghetto

#neville goddard #law of assumption #manifest #be delusional #success story

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writing-by-mimi · 2 years

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Only Ever Me

Fandom: Obey me!

Pairing: GN!MC x Diavolo

Summary: if the nobility thinks they have right, he will use might to show them otherwise.

Adult content. Read at your own risk. Not beta read.

****************************************************

He could feel his limbs shake in rage. A 'noble' demon had brought up the idea of having an heir with you. To unite the three realms...

Holding himself together, he let out a laugh. "There is no need to rush such things."

"On the contrary! Human life expectancy is terrible. Securing the heir as soon as possible is the way to go. My son just became of age, is verile, and believes the human to be attractive. With his magical skill, gender doesn't matter. He will ensure they carry full term and unite the realms!" He let out a joyous laugh as the table went through mixed emotions. Some were happy, some questioning. One person even just left the table.

Perhaps he should have as well. He sighed as he dropped the demonic head, letting it oddly roll to where ever it liked. He had no use for it now.

Maybe he should have took more time to calm. To reign his emotions in more. He had simply meant to do away with the BonneVille line after that pompous family believed itself good enough to spawn life with you. Yet...here he was... ripping them apart so completely in death that not even the best necromancer would be able to bring them back.

No one would suspect him. They never did with crimes of this magnitude. It would be blamed on someone who held ire against the family, which, being of noble blood, could be anyone in the kingdom.

Ripping the sons head from his body, he stared into the eyes. Your least favorite color eyes. Even your least favorite hair color.

It caused him to smile as a deep laugh left him, tossing the head to the side he stood and wiped his hands on his pants. It was doomed to fail from the start. You would not find him attractive in the least.

Leaving just as quickly as he had entered, he cleaned himself up and went about his night.

The next morning, he made sure to pull no punches when it came to interacting with you. He had called you do his office under false pretense, not the first time, and been shirtless doing push-ups when you entered. Humans desire physical strength in partners, just as Demons. There was no other stronger that him, reminding you of that fact as he stood and toweled himself off slowly.

Your eyes never left his chest and abdomen as you swallowed hard and sat yourself in the seat across from him. Watching the thin layer of sweat reflex off of his skin every time he took a breathe. The prince gave a casual greeting and began to dress, apologizing for being caught as he was, as the time had gotten away from him.

You weren't sure what he was saying, you usually could pull yourself together enough when alone with Lord Diavolo to hear what he was saying, as not to make a fool of yourself...but his white button down shirt was open on the top still, tie so loosely bound... why did the man of your dreams have to have such status? Be so completely unattainable and uninterested in you? Oblivious to how your eyes kept wandering his form?

It was for the best that way.

He could feel it. Your eyes dragging across his chest, even now as he spoke to you with a practiced casual tone about mundane things such as school work. The flush on your features a dead give away as you would occasionally nod and pretend to follow along.

"I wish to fuck you here in my office. It is convenient that you aren't listening at the moment." He shuffled some papers around as you nodded your head, eyes now holding his buttons as they slipped farther and farther down.

He had to admit, being so openly checked out by you was making his cock twitch. The fucking Bonnevilles. He chuckled quietly as you gave your own small smile and nod as response. To think that family thought itself worthy for such an important task with such an important person...

It would be him. He would seduce you yet. Cause you to break and beg on your knees to have him inside of you, to feel pleasures only he could bring you. "I could fuck an heir into you right now while your head is in the clouds, if you would like?" He smiled as he stood up.

God, you had no idea what this man infront of you was saying. You felt mildly guilty as he stood. You had missed every word he said from the moment you walked in.

You just couldn't help it. Shirtless Diavolo! Covered in sweat and working his body...how many others had seen that?!

It didn't matter, all that mattered was that you had the chance to be blessed with enough luck to see it with your own eyes.

Coming back to reality, Diavolo's shirt was open as he leaned on his desk in front of your chair. When the fuck had he gotten there! Where was his shirt?

"So, what say you, Mc? Does my offer sound acceptable?"

You weren't sure what to say...you had no idea what he said, but it couldn't be anything to terrible. It was Diavolo!

"Yes. Sounds great!" You smiled as you nodded your head.

"Now I know you've been ignoring me. Would you perhaps like to apologize? I know just how you can make it up to me." His smile was playful.

Dammit! You had been caught. You felt your face heat as you looked down to your shoes. "I'm sorry! I've just had a lot on my mind lately!" You tried to cover. "I wasn't trying to be rude I-"

"Was just focusing on me?" A smooth chuckle left him as he slipped the shirt from his form.

You turned your face away quickly.

"You could make it up to me." He pushed himself off of his desk and stood next to you, his height difference while standing in front of you leveled his cock at the perfect height. His hand slowly slipping behind your head and pushing your face slowly to his tented pants.

You let out a moan as you looked up to him. The warmth of his clothed erection on your lips now. Letting out another moan of want, you could feel it vibrate his cock on your lips as he let his head fall back. "Fuck, even with just this I am so close to coming undone. Perhaps I should finish on your face and send you back to class. Let all of the school and my kingdom know who you belong to." He voice was rough as he pressed his cock against your lips a bit harder before undoing his pants and letting them hit the floor.

Lord Diavolo didn't wear any type of underwear...that would be a fact you took to your grave as you fucked yourself silly tonight.

Taking him slowly in your mouth, your hands moved your bottoms and slowly rubbed yourself. Between fantasizing and action, you were so fucking horny and ready. Letting out a needy hum you rolled your hips against your hand as you took him farther into your throat. His hand guiding you gently back and forth as you took his cock.

"I'll fuck you if you let me, Mc. I don't care who would walk in. None would stop me from claiming you. Fucking my seed so deep inside of you..." He panted.

Pulling off of his cock with a pop, you looked up to him as continued to touch yourself. Panting as you held his eyes. Diavolo quickly picked you up and bent you over his desk.

"Fuck, yes, please!"

He buried himself inside of you completely in one thrust. You were so ready for him, begging in such a cute voice for him to cum inside of you. He would be a monster not to let you cum on his cock at this point. Making sure his large hands shielded your hips from the edges of his wooden desk he let out every ounce of sexual frustration then and there. Fucking you with reckless abandon as you continued to moan and gasp under his touch. Screaming even as he hit that sensitive spot inside of you over and over again. Your walls tightening as you rode your orgasm sent the prince over the edge. The sounds you made, it should be illegal to be as tight as you were while cumming.

Pulling out, he found it was almost as tantalizing as fucking you had been. Your cute little hole was stretched from his cock. A mixture of your cum and his seed leaking down your thighs as you panted, eyes lost to bliss.

A sharp smack to your ass caused you to yelp in surprise. "I'll teach you how to keep every ounce of my seed inside of yourself next time." He growled as he gripped your ass roughly.

Next time, you reminded your self. "How long until you can fuck me again?" A small devious smirk on your lips drawing a growl from Diavolo ad he gripped your hips tightly.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc

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distort-opia · 2 years

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You are one of the people who have the best character interpretation, so I would like to ask a question regarding N52's final issue. Joker delays his transformation to his actual self by saying, "not yet." Why do you think he wanted to stay longer? Bruce already returned being Batman, but (amnesic?) Joker seemed to want to be on hiatus. Is it because he enjoyed the human side?

Thank you so much! I'm happy you're enjoying my interpretation of these complex characters.

There's no doubt amnesiac Joker wants to stay human longer, and away from his real self. It's directly spelled out in Batman (2011) #48, when he asks Bruce not to become Batman again, and the reason for it is mentioned there too, more or less:

"At rest." In one word, that's the reason they both wanted to stay longer: peace. The unattainable dream that haunts Batman and Joker's characters relentlessly, because it's something they both had, but lost in such a traumatic way it made them incapable of having it again.

I'll go in more detail as to why he wants to delay his return as Joker under the cut, because I ended up citing comic panels and making this long again -- but also because there'll be heavy discussion of depression and suicidality, so. If that is something that triggers you, please take care.

Sigh. So the thing about Joker is... that he's deeply suicidal, and always has been.

Snyder's origin for him in Batman: Zero Year -- Secret City has the original Red Hood letting himself fall into the acid vat, refusing Bruce's outstretched hand, grinning as he falls:

Then, this is how Bruce recalls it in Endgame:

So. This is how Bruce remembers it going down, as shown in both of these comics. However, in Death of the Family, when Joker records himself talking out of the Red Hood helmet as Harley is parading as him, he says this:

"Where you knocked me off this very catwalk and bathed me in fire and burned away my false skin."

Interesting, isn't it? Joker doesn't remember it as him choosing to fall, he remembers it as Batman tipping him over. And the pattern continues with Endgame. In DotF, Joker gets so terrified by Bruce's bluff of knowing his identity he jumps off a cliff himself:

And yet, this is what he says in Endgame:

"You dropped me off a cliff!" It keeps happening, and I love the parallel Snyder made here-- not only the perpetual thread of a Joker always falling and a Batman who's unable to save him (even in Flashpoint), but the way they both remember the fall in entirely different ways. (Tbh, I think neither of these versions are the truth, and that it's much more impactful if we as readers don't know the truth either. This way, it's all about what Bruce and Joker need to believe. But that's a meta post for another day.) Bruce thinks Red Hood chose to fall, but Joker thinks Bruce pushed him towards his death, every time.

It's because he needs to believe that. The identity of Joker that he's forged for himself after the fall into the acid (and after the trauma that came before it) fulfills many functions, but a crucial one is just... keeping him alive. The same way Batman and The Vow is a way Bruce has come up with to stave off his own suicidal tendencies (something explicitly stated in Tom King's Batman: I Am Suicide). Joker can't believe that he tried to kill himself both times he fell, and that Batman tried to save him; he has to believe Batman did it on purpose. If he believes Batman had a hand in his creation, made him, that means Joker has a purpose. As long as that purpose is Batman, he cannot die. This is how he fights to stay alive... by throwing himself against the wall that is Batman's no-killing rule. It's all so goddamn tragic, I swear to fucking God. Joker genuinely wants to die, but by believing only Batman deserves to kill him, and by doing everything in his power to make him go dark and break his rule, he's keeping himself alive. Batman is, paradoxically, both his preferred method of suicide and his reason for living. (I’m fine. This is fine.)

However, amnesiac Joker doesn't have this to rely on! He's wiped clean of the memories that made him Joker, the decisions he's made to get there. And as a slate wiped clean, he's shown to still be craving death -- still fighting what is unavoidably depression. Without Batman, in the initial months, his life as a normal person felt meaningless, so he nearly kills himself... But then, he finds a way to survive. He finds this island of peace with the bench and the lake, this sliver of hope. He goes to that bench and puts the gun in his mouth and doesn't fire, and that's how he manages to stay alive, and content, and happy with his normal job and normal apartment. 'I have the power to leave everything behind at any moment, but there are things here to live for.'

And here's where my main point comes in: amnesiac Joker is so desperate to preserve this, because his original Joker identity is incapable of this by design. Joker, as we know him, is incapable of being truly happy, the exact same way Batman is. Amnesiac Joker and Bruce are parallels and inversions of each other in this story, like they are in everything else; Bruce is driven to become Batman again, while Joker is the one fighting against it. Alfred is so desperate to preserve Bruce as he is, keep him away from being Batman, because as Bruce Wayne he has a chance at happiness. And Joker doesn't have an Alfred to spell it out, but it's the same thing for him. Without Joker, he has a shot at genuine peace. But Batman and Joker are too deeply intertwined for Joker not to come back if Batman did, and that's ultimately why amnesiac Joker asks Bruce not to become Batman again. Their peace, and their torment, are inextricably linked.

But... you know what moment haunts me most in Batman #48? Fuck it, if I started ranting about this, might as well get it all out of my system.

Bruce turns back. When the explosion goes off, he starts running towards Jules and the people in danger, but then he stops and looks back at Joker... but there's no one there. Joker is gone. There's no one near the bench. And when he goes off running again, his face is in shadow, as if to symbolize a return to Batman.

Insert me going 'Snyder!! What does it mean?? What does it all mean??'. What would've happened if the explosion didn't go off? Was Joker actually intending to kill himself? Was it because he sensed Bruce would become Batman again no matter what he did, and would rather die while still having this fleeting happiness than go back to being Joker? If so, why didn't he kill himself any of the times after? Was Bruce's presence while he did it, in any capacity, something he needed? And if so, why? Did he need Bruce there to try and stop him from killing himself, or did he need him there because he didn't want to die alone? Is this a parallel to the end of Endgame, in which it was Joker desperately trying to stay alive while Bruce doomed them both to death? Is this a reversal of it, with Joker trying to stay human this time while Bruce is slipping back into Batman?

And why, why did Joker run away? The implication in those panels is that Bruce hesitated. What if Joker had still been there when he looked back? If Joker had insisted, or went with Bruce to the location of the explosion, if he had stayed... would that have made a difference?

God, this is why I would have loved more insight into amnesiac Joker's head! In the issue you're referring to, #51, we're shown both visually and textually that he's fighting becoming Joker again, and all this after the events of #48 transpired. Leaving aside him saying "Not yet," in DotF and Endgame, Snyder has used flies as a way to signal Joker's influence or presence. And in these panels we can see amnesiac Joker crushing the flies that keep coming at him, symbolically keeping his real identity at bay:

This does indicate a certain degree of self-awareness, at least an unconscious knowledge of who he used to be, and I need to freaking know why he ran away that time, and how he reacted to Batman returning, how he managed to stay this person instead of becoming Joker again. For that matter, we are also never told how that happened! Snyder intended to have a comic explaining what transpired after the events of Batman (2011) #48 and #51, but that comic unfortunately never came to be. Between these, which have an amnesiac Joker with no bleached skin or disfiguration, and Dark Days: The Forge and Dark Days: The Casting, there's nothing yet in canon to explain how he became the classical Joker again. We know how Batman regained his memories, but not Joker, and it bugs me immensely. In The Casting Joker says that even when he was not himself, he felt the call (of Barbatos, essentially, since both Bruce and Joker have been revived by dionesium, one of the Nth metals) -- so did he just spontaneously freaking get white skin, a grin and green hair at some point? Or did he intentionally throw himself in a vat of acid again once the memories came back? How did Joker end up imprisoned in the Batcave then, how did Bruce drag him there and why did he actually need him? Also, why did the dionesium pool restore Joker to life at the end of DotF but kept his physical Joker-like traits, but post-Endgame it healed him entirely of everything, restored him to pre-Joker appearance? Snyder!! I need answers!!

[deep breath] Anyway! I'm sorry anon, this went off the rails more than a little. Any in-depth talk of Snyder's stuff tends to send me spiralling. But I hope you still enjoyed some of my rambling!

#also thank you for the ask!#God. will Batman 48 ever cease to haunt me #went a little nuts here but look. I blame Snyder for all of it #asks #batman #joker #batman meta #joker meta #batjokes #batjokes meta #my meta #cw suicide #cw depression

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tanihanya · 25 days

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You wanna know smth that worries me loads in media rn? The Overwhelming Pessimism (rant post, written at 12am lol)

Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I was watching some older shows with my dad earlier-- and while some were a couple dated, Some things, really, really stuck out to me. We were watching M*A*S*H, the episode where the Cardinal Visits. It touches on deep topics, while still keeping it's normal humour, and feels good at the end. However, It was more after watching it-- that I sorta noticed... M*A*S*H would never air today.

And, No- Not because people would be 'Too Sensitive' - But the opposite, It's not dark enough. It's not grimy. It gives war as it is without being constant, overwhelming angst, and brooding darkness, and pessimistic characters--- I tried to think, about shows that were hopeful and meaningful and light today-- Movies, Even-- and I just, Couldnt. And that's because... as far as I know, what optimistic shows exist? From Superhero movies to sci fi, we have gritty, dark stories about corruption and being doomed and hidden issues we don't think about, constantly weighing down all the time. Online, we only see shit and how awful the world is outside, and never- never once- Like M*A*S*H and TNG, some shows I really like, Ways to deal with it, or try to help and fix it-- Nothing good, as if the human condition is nothing but misery and regret. But it's not like that. The World Sucks, it really does-- But we fucken neglect the things that make it redeemable, too- We neglect that change can, and has, happened. We seem to design the future as this unstoppable force of evil, that none of us can stop. Where are my TNGs and MASHs to help? where are the shows that are meant to give me faith? Where are the people still dreaming of futures, even if unattainable, to try to achieve? Where is our future? If all we ever think of is darkness, how can we ever expect it to be light? When we phrase "Realism" as the same as pessimism, the world falls into the pessimistic ideas itself-

Is Pessimism realistic? or are we making it realistic by being so pessimist? When we make only awful and gross futures, what future do we expect to grow into?

We don't allow eachother to dream. That is the right we are taking away from ourselves-- Something no external force can do. People in the past have dreamt of tomorrow in the worst of situations, why do we only ever make these nightmares? I'm going to be honest, While it's true that the world always has, and likely will, always suck, the fact is that we live here anyway- We need to make these changes, or try to, or the world will never become any different.

Yes, It's hard to try to change things, but it's harder to live in a world where nobody tried.

Where are the happy stories? Where have they gone? Where are shows like M*A*S*H, which acknowledge and explore the shit while appreciating the good ?

Where is half of our Human Condition? Where have we hidden it? It's easy to consume doomsaying media, Everybody does it. I do it. It's addictive to feel doomed, it's easy to throw all out and say that our futures will only get worse but--- Who Benefits? How does it help? It is hard to be hopeful, and it always feels like it gets harder as time goes on-- But we have to be Hopeful anyway. We have to dream or at least believe that things Can Improve.

If we never do that, then we never allow things to improve at all. If we let the world take away our ability to dream, we're giving up something that it has no right or access to. We need to welcome change. Yes, Recognise that "It's not good enough" But still be able to celebrate that it happened at all, that today is better than yesterday. I can't remember who said this, But I'm gonna quote a line that I heard once: "Welcome to Earth, Your Mission is to leave a better place than the one at your birth."

Forget about changing the world, you can change things down on our level. the personal level. you can still try, you can still work hard to make yourself happy- you can still be kind, and appreciative to others. We can still work for those glorious, unachievable dreams instead of these vicious, equally unrealistic nightmares. I hope this made sense <3

#m*a*s*h #media #pessimism #optimism #rant post #rant #sorry for the rant #it's 12am this may not make sense #star trek tng #DISCLAIMER:#This isn't me saying that modern media + Cinema is shit cos of this #I really really enjoy a lot of these movies too #There is beauty in the Pessimistic stories as much as the Optimisitc ones #however the lack of any Optimism is concerning #Dark + Gritty stories can be sooo cool and I dont wanna take that away from anyone #I just find it worrying how little there is the opposite

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 1 year

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Love letter

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem Student! reader

Warnings: Fluff, unrequited love (you know is not unrequited at all), angst

Word count: 3,741

N/A: I love writing smut, and you love it too, but I want to do different kind of works too, so I'm not repeating myself. As always, English is not my first language, sorry about the mistakes.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” Enid, your roommate, asked.

“Nothing.” You answered.

It was a filthy lie. You were writing a letter, but not just any letter, but a love one. You knew it wasn't a good idea, but you were determined to do it. You weren't in love with a classmate of yours, nor with a guy from Jericho. The reality was that everything you felt was for the least indicated person. Marilyn Thornhill was your botany teacher. She was older than you, your teacher, an unattainable dream. You were always a coward when expressing your feelings, and this time it was necessary to hide them. Your feelings were too strong to continue doing nothing. You could spend a whole class daydreaming about what a romance between you two would be like, a forbidden and intense one. Every night you fought with the rational part of your head. It couldn't be. It could never be. Your whole life was changing because of those feelings. You didn't feel like going out with your friends, you weren't hungry or sleepy either.

You woke up that morning with a crazy idea. You would never be able to declare your love to her, you knew that would be your downfall. But maybe you could let her know about your feelings. You needed to tell her everything you thought, everything you felt. Maybe that way your heart would calm down and stop beating so fast when you entered the old conservatory.

When you finished writing the letter, you closed it and kept it out of the eyes of your gossipy friend. Now you would have to think where you would leave it. Getting it under her door was risky and unoriginal.

“I got it!” you yelled to yourself, causing Enid to look at you again.

“Seriously, (Y/N) what are you up to?” She asked.

The next day you all walked into class. You had the letter in your bag, and you were willing to leave it to her. You were very nervous, but when the redhead appeared you reaffirmed your decision. She was beautiful, she was kind, she was perfect for you, except for the small detail that she was your teacher.

You smiled at every word she said, every time she looked at you, you noticed how your cheeks blushed. It was already an unbearable feeling, and that you were the best in botany didn't help at all, since all the questions were directed at you, with all the looks of those eyes that you melted for.

“That's all, see you guys tomorrow,” Marilyn said, joining her hands.

The students left the place, but you did not move from your seat.

“(Y/N), Do you want something?” She asked you smiling.

You straightened up and tried to appear calmed.

“I was wondering if I could help you with something,” you said in an almost inaudible tone. You used to help her once, so it wouldn't be strange to her.

“You are such a kind girl, (Y/N), but today I have everything under control.”

You trembled at her compliment, but the fact that she didn't need your help posed a small problem in your strategy. You had to think fast. On her desk there was a small glass of water, probably for the plants. You weren't going to wait any longer to put your plan into action, so as you gathered up your things, you discreetly clenched your fist, causing the glass to explode.

“My God,” Marilyn said, surprised.

You waited for her back to be turned and with one fluid movement you took out the envelope and placed it almost in sight, stuck into the dirt of a pot.

“What happened?” You asked innocently, while Marilyn looked at the broken glass with a frown.

“The, the glass, the glass has exploded by itself,” She said without taking her eyes off it. “Don't come here, you can cut yourself,” she ordered when she saw that you were taking a step forward.

“Maybe it was a change in pressure,” you said, moving your ankle on the ground. You were embarrassed. You just hoped she didn't find the letter before you left.

“Anyway, I don't know why I'm surprised, this is Nevermore after all,” she told you, now yes, looking at you with that smile that drove you crazy.

“May I can help you?” You asked, although what you wanted was to run away from there. She shook her head.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of it, you should go with your companions. It's a great day to be locked up here,” she said happily.

You nodded without further ado, and walked out the door.

You were finally able to get some air. Your whole body was shaking. You had already done it. There would be no going back. She'll never know it was you, but at least she'll know there's someone at that academy who loved her, loved her deeply. You were going to leave, but thoughts manufactured by fear and nerves passed through your head. Would she find the letter? Would she like it? Would someone else find it first?

All those questions that invaded you made you stop dead and turn back to the conservatory.

Trying not to stand out too much among the students, you approached the building, trying to see the interior through the windows. Marilyn was picking up the mess you'd made. You would never get tired of looking at her, all her movements seemed worthy of an angel. Your feelings were treading lightly on the line between love and obsession.

When she finished cleaning, she walked over to her desk, sitting on it to look at some papers. You looked at the clock, you didn't have much time before your next class started, and you were starting to get impatient. You looked at the pot that contained the envelope through the windows and sighed. The redhead didn't look up.

You didn't like using your telekinetic powers for these things, you considered it cheating. But these were desperate times, so desperate measures were required. You looked to the sides in case there was someone who could see you and you extended your hand a little towards a tool that was on the same table, making it tremble. That didn't seem to get her attention. With a frustrated snort, you reached out again, this time knocking the tool to the ground.

Marilyn looked up from her papers and frowned, looking down at the table. You moved not to be discovered. The redhead stood up and cautiously headed there. For a moment you thought that maybe you were scaring her a little, making the glasses break by themselves and things move on their own.

The redhead bent down to pick up the little tongs, looking at them strangely. You were watching from a safe place. If she inadvertently left them in a place again, you wouldn't know what to do. With a puzzled look, she put the tool back on the table, looking up just to have the letter in her field of vision.

Your heart was beating faster, that's it. She had found it. Marilyn grabbed the letter and pulled it out of the dirt, eyeing the envelope curiously as she went back to her desk. She read the front, where you had put her name. You saw her blink in disbelief, and she leaned against the table, opening its envelope.

I can get tired of many things in this life. I get tired of the rain, of the cold... I get tired of the routine, of this harsh and cruel world, I get tired of watching time go by, which makes the most beautiful flowers of spring die when winter comes. But there's something I never get tired of, and it's seeing you every day. I’m never tired of your smiles, your voice, your words. I’m never tired of dreaming about you, with your eyes, with your hands... When I'm by your side, the rain turns into a rainbow that fills even the darkest sky with colors and I wish it was cold out there, so you could hug me. The routine becomes a wonderful adventure if you are in it, and the world seems different to me. When I see you I don't worry that winter destroys the most beautiful flowers, because you are the most beautiful of all, and not even the coldest winter could change it. I will never be able to do anything other than admire you, and shout to the sky how unfair life is for not having you, but I want you to know that seeing you is more than enough to make my life beautiful.

I love you, Marilyn.

When she looked up from the paper you knew she had finished reading. You couldn't see too much through the glass, but you thought you saw a small smile on her face while she looked around, surely trying to locate the author of that letter.

Your chest was moving very quickly and sweat was running down your forehead. But deep down you were excited. There was nothing to do there anymore, your work was done. You thought that doing so would give your mind a bit of relief, but unfortunately it was the opposite. Now you kept wondering if she would have liked it, if you had managed to stir something inside her, and, above all, if she could find out that it was you who wrote it.

The next day…

You couldn't sleep all night, thinking about her, of course, but also about what you had done. You thought you saw her smile, and that made you wonder if you should have said the letter was from you. It was a losing battle, but at least you did something.

“(Y/N), are you okay? You don’t look good,” Your partner said you while you went to the greenhouse.

“Yes, yes, I just had a bad night.” You lied.

You were even more nervous than the day before. You didn't see yourself capable of facing a class with her after you did that, but at the same time you were extremely curious to see if anything had changed in her.

“Shit, I forgot my phone, I'm going to look for it,” Enid said, turning around. You were alone.

You were both extremely punctual, there were still 5 minutes to go before the class started and of course there was no one there yet, except Principal Weems, who was at the door chatting with Marilyn. A deep instinct made you walk slower and deviate towards one of the sides of the building, trying to listen to the conversation.

“Do you have any idea who wrote that?” Larissa asked. She had something in her hand, your letter.

Your legs began to shake exaggeratedly. Why did she have it? Did she tell Weems because it was something that worried her? You thought you were about to faint.

“I have no idea” the redhead said.

“I wish someone would send these letters to me,” Larissa sighed and returned Marilyn the letter, smiling.

“I just hope it's not a prank,” Marilyn said, glancing at the paper again.

“No, it's not, damn it,” you whispered to yourself, watching from the corner.

“Please, Marilyn, you are a beautiful, smart and funny woman. Does it seem so strange that someone likes you?” Weems asked with an amused tone.

Hearing those compliments from Larissa, you felt a little pang of jealousy.

“Well, no. It's just that I'm not used to it,” Marilyn said timidly.

“Well, get used to it, because whoever it is seems to be crazy about you...” Larissa said, giving Marilyn a little nudge. “Anyway, if you know who it was, I want to be the first to know, okay?”

The redhead nodded, putting the letter in her pocket. You peeked out a bit to see that you didn't imagine anything, she was really smiling. Larissa turned and walked over to where you were. You didn't have time to run away.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” she asked.

You wanted to run, to disappear, but then you remembered that no one in the world would imagine that you could be the author of that letter, so you pretended to be normal.

“I was waiting for the time to come in,” you said, putting on the good girl face.

Larissa looked at her watch and sighed in amusement.

“Well, it's time. Go to class…” she told you before continuing walking. A line of students began to enter the greenhouse and you decided to be brave and not go and hide under a table.

You had a bad time in that class. You didn't dare look at her, even though you were in the front row. The few times you looked up, you could see that he was smiling more than usual and was in a very good mood. Your skin tingled at the thought that it could have been thanks to you.

“Good, and now before you go, you give me the works that I sent you last week,” she said when the class was about to end.

They all got up to do what she said. You preferred to wait, besides, you were in the front row. When there were barely two students left, you got up, your carefully crafted work in hand.

“(Y/N),” she said, taking the folder. She looked at it for a bit and smiled amused. She was really happy. “From what I see you don't get tired of getting the best grades in the class,” she commented to you, turning a few pages.

You smiled as you felt your cheeks return to their usual reddish color. At one point her expression changed, frowning. You stirred a bit and something in your head told you that you had to get out of there as fast as you could.

“I, I'm leaving now, Miss Thornhill,” You said taking your bag and trying to get out the door. A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Wait a minute, don't go,” she told you with that strange expression. Your hands began to shake and the cold sweat ran down your spine again.

You nodded lowering your head and clenched your fists tightly. Marilyn looked at you and then reached for something in her pocket. All your fears came true when she took out the letter and opened it, placing it next to your work. It was obvious that she was comparing the handwriting.

You felt like the stupidest girl in the world. You had been thinking about what to put in that damn letter and you didn't even realize you wrote it by hand. It seemed like a perfect plan but you failed in the most obvious. You'd rather be beaten than stand there, watching your mask fall to the floor, along with your heart.

“(Y/N),” she told you seriously, showing you the letter. You couldn't stop shaking, your throat was burning and your eyes began to shine, blurring your vision. “It was you? This is your handwriting, have you written this?” She asked incredulously.

You didn't answer, your breathing began to accelerate dangerously, and as much as you wanted to lie, no sound was able to come out of your mouth. Telekinesis was a very bad partner. It was a treacherous ability, tied to your strongest emotions. It was the most embarrassing moment of your life, but you were suppressing all your emotions, so you made a glass bell on the desk start to vibrate. Marilyn looked at it and back at you.

“Oh my God, (Y/N), yesterday you broke the glass to distract me. I’m sure it was you,” she sighed, shaking her head. “But, why? What you say in the letter. Is it, is it true?” She asked, taking a step towards you.

You took another step back, looking at the ground. Tears began to run down your cheeks and you felt like you were short of breath. You didn't want to stay there another second, so you ran out without looking back.

You could feel the gazes of everyone in your path, but you didn't care, all you wanted was to get to your room and cry, cry a lot.

After classes…

“(Y/N), where have you been? I haven't seen you since we left the conservatory.” Enid entered your room. When she located you she was completely speechless.

You were lying on the bed, with blood injected eyes soaked in blood from crying so much, hugging your pillow.

“What's wrong?” She asked a little scared, approaching your bed.

“Nothing,” you said with a completely broken voice. “I'm such an idiot.”

“An idiot? What are you talking about?” asked your friend, sitting on the bed. Enid was your best friend, the only thing you hadn't told her was about your feelings for that woman, you didn't want to seem like a freak or something.

“Yesterday I wrote a love letter to someone…” You started, getting up. “I didn't mean for her to find out that it's mine, but she has.”

“Oh, oh, okay, tell me, please, who is she?” she asked. You knew that would be her reaction.

“You could be saying names all day, because you'd never guess,” you said.

“Try it,” she told you excitedly.

You were going to tell her not to insist when someone knocked the bedroom door. You suddenly straightened up. Surely Marilyn had talked to Larissa, and your parents would be aware of her daughter's teenage follies. You cleared your throat and wiped your eyes a bit, awaiting your final judgment.

“I'm coming.” The blonde said, getting up.

You looked at the floor, the palpitations returned again and you were afraid to break the window of the room.

“Ms. Thornhill.” You heard Enid.

Now you were afraid that any glass object in the school would break into a thousand pieces. Automatically, you looked for an escape route that didn't exist. This time you were trapped, you would have to face everything that had happened to you. You didn't know if you were even capable of speaking.

“Hi Sinclair, is (Y/N) here?” She asked like nothing had happened, with her usual warmth. It seemed that for a moment the werewolf considered her answer, but she finally nodded, opening the door all the way. The redhead passed into the room and immediately she fixed her eyes on you.

“Sinclair, I would like to speak with (Y/N) in private, would you mind…?” She said, looking at the blonde with a reassuring smile.

Enid showed some disappointment on her face, but she nodded.

“Sure,” she said before walking out the door.

The silence that remained in the room after your friend left weighed like a stone. You refused to look at the redhead, trying not to shake like a custard.

“(Y/N)…” She said, approaching you. “I think we need to talk, don't you think so?” She asked sitting next to you.

With the greatest possible effort you moved away from her, she had sat too close for your liking. You shook your head, looking just the other way.

“Look at me, please,” she told you softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You kept shaking your head, even though the feel of her hand on your body made you weak.

“I just want to talk about this, (Y/N),” she said taking out the letter.

Tears ran down your cheeks again. You were on the brink of collapse, but you decided to face the consequences of your actions, even if awkwardly.

“When are my parents coming?” You asked between sobs. You wanted to finish it as soon as possible, you had to be direct.

“What?” Marilyn asked, releasing her hand from your shoulder.

“I suppose you have already told Principal Weems, and she have called my parents,” You said with a sigh, still not being able to look that woman in the eyes.

“Why I would do that?” she asked, almost in a jaunty tone.

“Well…The letter…” you said the way your body allowed you. Marilyn chuckled slightly, making you feel a bit strange.

“(Y/N), I would never dream of telling anyone it was you,” she said, moving closer to you. “But I would like to know if everything it says is true.”

“I… I…” you stammered.

“Are you in love with me, (Y/N)?” She asked bluntly.

You sobbed harder as you nodded sheepishly. There was no place to run or hide anymore. Admitting it once and for all was your best option at that moment.

“Oh, honey. Please, don't cry,” she whispered to you, lifting your chin so you could finally look into her eyes.

“I, I'm sorry,” you said, letting her hand wipe away your tears. If you weren't in that state, it would probably be the best feeling of your life.

“What are you sorry about, sweetheart?” She asked you, so close to you that you couldn't stand it.

“I'm sorry about loving you, I know that you're my teacher and I'm just a stupid girl, I know that you're older than me... and that you never...”

You couldn't keep talking. Without you in any way knowing that would happen, Marilyn kissed you softly on the lips. It wasn't your typical passionate movie kiss, but it was a kiss from her, something you thought you'd never feel. You opened your eyes for a moment and immediately closed them, enjoying that soft kiss.

Marilyn broke away from you, caressing your cheek. You were on the verge of a heart attack, or worse.

“The letter is beautiful, no one had said something like that to me, ever,” she said, without moving too far from you.

“But, but,” you said quickly. You didn't understand anything that was happening. The redhead put a finger on your lips to shut you up.

“It's been a long time since I know you like me, (Y/N), I'm not blind. Every day you help me pick up the class, you keep an eye on me... Honestly I don't know how you get those grades in my subject, if you spend the entire classes looking at me,” she said amused. She knew it, of course she knew it. Were you really that obvious?

“I don't know what to say,” you said sighing, looking everywhere in case it was some kind of a sick joke.

“So I think you should kiss me again,” she said smiling.

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #ms thornhill #wednesday #laurel gates #enid sinclair

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flintism · 1 year

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thinking also about the end of AF and i think it’s interesting that in the “what were we” scene at the end of the book fitz says that his & nighteye’s relationship was a simple thing and that they were simple beings whereas the fool is complex and full of convoluted ideas. one of the main things fitz seeks when it comes to molly is the normalcy she represents - a life devoid of court intrigues and assassinations - but she also embodies a simple life. when fitz longs for molly and the simplicity/normalcy she embodies he is, metaphorically speaking, longing for the simplicity/normalcy of a heterosexual life whereas the fool with his complexity and his landscape “full of secrets” embodies a queerness that keeps scaring fitz. and the thing is, fitz gets to have his simple heterosexual life for 25 years but it’s never truly his life is it? he needs to assume another identity in order to be able to live it and there are aspects of that life that leave him unfulfilled (the fool’s absence being the most obvious one)

now, one of the main themes of the last trilogy is death and, more specifically, how you want to die should you be given the choice. fitz has died over and over again over the course of the past 7 books and in FQ and AQ he mentions several times that he’d like to die/is feeling suicidal now that molly is dead and that bee is gone. then for a short time after regaining bee he wants to live again, it’s the infamous “and we will live happily ever after?” “that is my intention” bit of dialogue between fitz & the fool but those books being what they are it doesn’t last. fitz almost dies a first time and has to decide what he wants to do before dying & decides to give all the strength he has left to the fool. he almost goes with him where he’d be “home” and “a whole thing” but that would mean living inside the fool’s body and taking something away from the fool and he can’t do that.

this first death doesn’t last and he has to do it all over again & this time he decides to carve a wolf/dragon. here, there’s a really interesting line from the fool who asks fitz “you did not really think you would be allowed to die privately, did you?” and that, to me, contrasts directly with a thought fitz has a few chapters earlier when he wishes he could have died in his and molly’s bed. all his life fitz dreamed of a simple life with molly and it makes sense that he would also dream of having a simple death and that this dream of a simple death is linked to molly. but as i said before that simple life wasn’t really his, he could only have it because he wasn’t himself anymore, and now that he is fitzchivalry farseer again this dream is once more unattainable. what’s left to him is a public death or public “going into a stone wolf for eternity” and he tries to do it alone because until the very end he’s afraid of being rejected by the fool even though he wants nothing more than to finally embrace what they have. and it’s in part why i love that final scene before they go in the wolf so much, it’s not only an acknowledgement of what the fool means to fitz and what they mean to each other it’s also a public acknowledgement of it when fitz has spent so much time being afraid of embracing it. and everyone fitz holds dear (and who is still alive to be there) witnesses him finally becoming whole/himself

#and here is the second post #it's messy but at least it's out of my system #robin hobb #the original gay hell

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wegog · 2 years

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Jubilation: a touch of surrealism

Perhaps the problem is that I love to dig in and hyperanalyze every single thing in my life… But I found this episode absolutely amazing! That's why I wrote this. Be warned: my analysis contains a rather bleak (obviously) interpretation of the moment Ladybug and Chat Noir got stuck in their dream world. I realize this is only a kids show, but I can't help but think about this episode!

What is admirable about the fantaistic

is that there is no longer anything fantastic:

there is only the real.

André Breton

Here, I want to focus on the "deepest desirest" that Marinette and Adrien shared. The staging of this moment is actually done quite well. And all elements are non-random. Initially, we see a really basic desire of our superheroes to defeat their enemy and begin to live a quiet life with all the Parisians. However, very quickly the world of their dreams begins to transform, and we witness an absolutely surreal thing. That's exactly what we saw in the episode, real surrealism or even magical realism.

Just look at this!

Also the characters find themselves imprisoned in a world of illusions, where the concept of time is distorted in an interesting way. We are seeing big changes (marriage, birth of four children) that take many years. But Ladybug and Chat Noir don't change. They don't grow up, they don't take off their costumes… There are several reasons for this. The first one is the most obvious, Marinette and Adrien just don't know what they'll look like when they become adults. And the second reason is precisely the role of time in this moment. We have an object from the real world - this is an alarm clock that is trying to destroy the illusion. In the real world, time passes as always. The Dark Owl's trying to take away the Miraculous, but the alarm clock continues to ring… However there's simply no time in the world of illusions. There're only a lot of events that are stuck inside this time loop. I think that's how Daizzy's power works.

But let's go back to the concept of time and the symbolism of the clock in this moment. Surrealists love this subject very much! I think everyone immediately remembered the Dali painting 'The Persistence of Memory'

or even David Lynch's movies. After all, time in his films is a viscous substance in which characters and events get stuck, minutes disappear, hour hands stumble. This time is time of sleep and this is recurring time of nightmare, flickering time of indecision, everlasting time of death. (I didn't think that I would remember Lynch while watching Miraculous Ladybug).

If we turn to plays, we can remember the Theater of the Absurd, where time plays the same role. For example, in the work of Samuel Beckett 'Waiting for Godot', where the continuing characters are always waiting for a certain Godot (a very complex image, this's more likely not a person, but some kind of unattainable dream). The two main characters also remain constant, as do Ladybug and Chat Noir. The image of the alarm clock is also present in the plays of the Theater of the Absurd. For example, a dramatist Jean Genet uses the alarm clock in his work 'The Maids' to destroy the illusion he creates for viewers. The alarm clocks (technically one alarm clock that just keeps change its place and form) are scattered throughout Ladybug and Chat Noir's dream world, like the clocks in Dali's painting, and it's the alarm clock that helps Marinette realize she and her partner are stuck in a place without time.

I also want to add this scene, despite its tragedy, is really funny. Marinette and Adrien are just teenagers. That's why they so naively imagine a wedding, and their babies are just dolls. All these unrealistic details make their world too fake. And for the viewer is not only funny, but also a little scary, because Ladybug and Chat Noir don't see the absurdity of what is happening.

A small addition

Of course, like everyone else, I couldn’t stop laughing at the wedding, and especially at the babies-actually-creepy-dolls (I swear I couldn’t stand it and paused the video, forgetting this was a broadcasting!)

These 'dreams' were funny, the creators wanted to make them so. And they succeeded. Yes, the end of this was harsh. But from the moment when Chat Noir tries to use the cataclysm on the victim of the Monarch, it becomes even more tragic. We, the audience, were in a completely different emotional state (after these precious babies). And then we're sent to the emotional roller coaster. First, The Dark Owl hits Ladybug, and then we watch how Chat Noir's trauma shows itself… Due to the contrast of the two events (an absurd dream and Adrien's attempt to greatly harm an innocent person), we feel very strong all this spectrum of teen's emotions. In my opinion, this is the best episode of the show so far.

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