Tumgik
#i think about this scene a normal amount
ollyrewind · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
now rumor has it you’re in love with your dead best friend
1K notes · View notes
adhd-merlin · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
me when he
100 notes · View notes
killianxswan · 7 months
Text
oKAY fine i'll talk about my obsession with 'hook' v 'killian' and 'swan’ v ‘emma' no one asked for this
(basically more thoughts inspired by this post)
let's start with emma. (forgive me if i'm wrong but) we get killian introducing himself by full name to emma and the others, but there's no scene of him finding out her surname. (i would love to see how that conversation goes, and emma's reaction to him starting to use it all the time). anyway, she is primarily referred to as 'emma', 'miss swan', 'the savior' even...but to my recollection never just 'swan' by anyone else. same way emma calls henry 'kid' or rumple calls neal 'bae'.
basically, killian is flirting 101. give a girl a nickname so she knows that you like her. so she knows you refer to her in a way that other don't.
killian is more obvious. most people refer to him by his more colorful moniker; hook. not ! that hook is not a suiting name for him. it's become a part of him and i personally believe it's gone from a name people feared to one used endearingly. but you can see it in his face how much it means to him when she calls him by his name. since i've started paying attention, i can't remember anyone else calling him killian except people he's loved in the past (liam, milah).
'hook' is who he'll always be to everyone else, but killian is the person only some get to see.
here are some examples of when they call each other the opposite that matter to mE:
emma- "you come to me, hook" during the s6 ooc engagement-call-off fiasco
killian- "emma, are you alright?" 5x02 after emma saves robin's life and killian pulls away from the kiss
both are times they feel disconnected from each other.
and!!! the opposite. like the scene mentioned previously in 3x22 where they reunite, they are so happy to see each the rouse flies out the window and they connect instantly.
61 notes · View notes
madeline-kahn · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Music in Film: The Sun is Also a Star (2019) dir. Ry Russo-Young
76 notes · View notes
ineed-to-sleep · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'm so normal about them
201 notes · View notes
widevibratobitch · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
when i say i am obsessed with him
#'indescribable insolence' <3333#dumas writing aramis in '20 years after':#i am going to create a character that is so egdy sarcastic provocative and irritating to everyone around him#and im gonna make stirring shit being an asshole and gruesome murder his favourite hobbies#and he did just as he said. bless him.#most character ever#and what makes him even better is the contrast between 20YA!aramis and t3M!aramis. its hilarious.#my man really went feral. midlife crisis some call it. i call it character development of all time. i call it serving cunt.#aramis as a musketeer a soldier a man in a profession where you're literally paid for killing people:#sweetness and mildness personified writes poetry and theology essays in his free time never gambles dreams about dedicating his life to god#aramis as a priest: whooo boy i hope i get to fUCKING KILL A PERSON TODAY >:D#anyway. i love him a normal amount or something.#the three musketeers#alexandre dumas#anyway. i reread this scene and the charenton battle today because it's definitely in my top 3 aramis moments#also the english translation on the gutenberg page omits two lines of dialogue that i remembered from my polish translation#and it goes something like#de Chatillon says 'i think you're looking for a fight sir' to which Aramis basically responds with 'oh nooo you *think*? Imao'. iconic.#(and its even funnier cause that makes athos immediately go 'aramis stfu plz' and aramis just goes 'no <3' im obsessed with them)#vingt ans apres#do i have a#twenty years after#tag?? not sure tbh i think i dont but tagging just in case ig
64 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Naoki Urasawa's Pluto, Chapter 58 [left]
&
Gustave Courbet self-portraits: The Man Made Mad With Fear [upper right] and Le Désespéré [lower right]
14 notes · View notes
lambentwarg · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I think you should come back to- to Department Q."
[ I don't need you. / I need you. ]
Afdeling Q: Journal 64 Department Q: The Purity of Vengeance
44 notes · View notes
beedreamscape · 3 months
Text
Scenes of Iomene and Oscar in the time after.
I have no excuses for why I wrote this except [screams]. PURE SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANON. It takes place over a long, undefined length of time.
Tumblr media
Iomene wraps her arms around Oscar's shoulders by the back and at her firm embrace, he leans into her.
His shoulders are broad so she's not able to envelop him completely. They stand at roughly the same height -either by design or some trick of the eye, he's got the impression she ought to be taller- and she's strong enough that he leans without worry of pushing her back.
She rests her chin on his shoulder and looks at the subject of his attention, the storm going outside the tall windows. Behind the curtain of rain, the thinner trees bend under the force of the wind, branches lashing against themselves and on the studier trunks, leaves sway like clothes on a line.
Their eyes cross on the faint reflection on the glass. In contrast to all that is fair in him, his eyes are like two dark marbles, a brown so deep and dark it's almost black; hers resemble her skin, an inhuman ambar like brandy on fire. Whenever she holds his stare to hers, he has the unsettling thought that she can or might be reading his thoughts.
Taking a break? He asks.
Thought I come see you.
He breathes out a laugh. You didn't have to.
The first time it happened he asked if it was her doing, the rain. It wasn't without reason, she had told him this place wasn't entirely real, the mansion -or palace if you lived in the places Oscar had- was almost a personal limbo, between veils, not outside of the Fairelands but not in it either.
Close enough it influences what happens here, she had told him.
If it rains there, it rains here?
She had shaken her head. No, fluctuations in Bleed cause this. I lived in flood and pain when war was at its highest, then in waist-deep snow as it died down.
He had also told her it reminded him of the accident and she held him steadily for what must've been hours if those had any meaning there.
Her breath has a complex rich scent, never bad but never something recognizable; a new, intriguing smell.
I don't have to do anything.
I know. He rubs the back of her hand in a resemblance of reassurance. I'm alright, I promise.
I miss having someone to care for.
He takes her upper arm, his large hand almost wrapping around it, and brings her to his side so he can look at her --- she's beautiful in a way he's not used to, though he's not quite sure what was he ever used to anymore. Her skin is bronze like copper and her hair darker than any black his eyes could register, she only looked human when she stood very close.
You already care for the whole of the Fairelands. Besides, I'm literally the last person that needs caring for.
It's different. And yes, you do. Dying is not the worst thing that can happen to a person and we both know it.
He smiles, not with teeth but broadly. Darling, I'm painfully familiar with oblivion. Though I've only skirted the edges of madness.
I've dabbled in madness a fair share over millennia.
He points lazily towards the window.
Could we walk out on it? Not in permission but in safety. Every now and then I heard of toxic rain back in Newfair, especially right after the war.
It's bleed-induced, but I don't believe it's toxic. I think we could.
And without another word, she takes his hand and leads him out.
He had asked her how far the land around them stretched on the first night he had woken up in the house --- she had kept him sleeping for about a week or maybe a month, a while to dream of death, a while to adapt her world for his presence, to be shared after hundreds of years of solitude.
For as far my legs will carry me, she told him.
Are there other buildings? Other houses?
I never felt the need for them.
You build them?
With enough will and vision, I could.
So you built this? She nods. A bit big for just one person.
One needs a variety of spaces even when living alone. I thought of rebuilding the whole of Oldfaire in the beginning, I went halfway through with it, but seeing my city with none of its people really hurt me. I did replicate the shore of Seasway, not the whole ocean, but enough that it might trick the eye into thinking it's endless.
Wow... I might need a map one day.
Yes, yes, I never thought to do so, it can be a fun project if you'd willing to tackle it. But that's for later. I reshaped some quarters and cleared space so you may shape them to your liking.
I wouldn't know where to start.
I would suggest you start with your bedroom and then the library, browse through my catalogue and pick out the ones you need to assemble your own.
Why can't I use yours?
She smiles that mischievous smile of someone who knows more, who'll always know more. You'll understand when you walk in there.
He went days without moving much further than the clearing surrounding the house, went on not exploring the library and its secrets, went on trying to ignore the grief over Cosmo, and on one of those days, returned with bloodied and torn fists.
I thought I'd hurt less in here, he told her. She gestures to the water-filled bowl in front of him and he dips his hands in, and sighs at the soothing cool of it.
That'd be easier if it was like that. I'm constantly in pain, I just learned to live with it.
I assume because of the Bleed.
Yes. They both go silent and watch the blood colouring the water red. She waits for him with a towel after five minutes. I'll put ointments and bandage it, but it'll heal regardless. It'll heal as if you had never broken your skin.
Can I even die here?
You'll have to try really hard for it and even then you'd return. The magick here... This place is electrified with both life and Bleed, its own reality and limbo combined.
Oscar went around three days without seeing Iomene before daring to enter her private quarters and look for her.
She lied pale yellow on the floor of her study, cold at the extremities, not breathing. For a second he wondered if she had succeded, but just for a second --- if she had died three days ago, her body would've begun to rot and he knew they don't have that luxury.
The bleed permeated the very air he breathed but at that moment, it flooded out of her like a broken fire hydrant, it made his skin break in goosebumps upon touch and something within him to stir.
He took her in his arms and layed her inside the gold bathtub of her bathroom, clothes and all, and ran a hot bath.
Then he sat on the floor and waited for her to return.
After a quiet period of days of studying, on her part, and reading, on his --- inside the library, he understood, rows of books that the biggest library in Newfaire would never be able to comport, knowledge so old it no longer had surviving records in the world of the living, no place traversable in search of a casual read at least not in short notice ---, she invites him for a walk.
The weather was nice, not too hot like in days of excessive magick nor cold like in days of Bleed, and Iomene wore clothes shorter than any he'd ever seen her in, considering he'd only ever seen her in long pants and gowns.
She walked with a purpose for about five minutes before reaching another clearing, not a random grass field, but a perfect cone with grass cut to perfection and familiar lines.
She walked forward towards the perfectly cut circle at the head of the field while he stood stunned.
I know this means very little without peers to play with but I thought we could think of something for two or at the very least it could bring forth fond memories.
He held back tears. Yeah, we can think of something. But we'll need-
The bats and balls are right over there, she says pointing to one of the trees where beneath is an open crate with the equipment. Needless to say, I'll need some training, I'm afraid just watching didn't make me a partner up to par.
He laughed out loud, the first time she heard it. Well, if it'll be just the two of us... He studied the contents of the crate and he picked up a ball. First of all, I think I'll need you to perfect your throws.
And shooted the baseball her way.
The rain feels both exactly like it always did, but also more real, much colder even through his dress shirt, especially through it, the intensity of the rain soaking the fabric until the clothes cling to his skin.
Yet he stands under it, proper vision of his surroundings impeded by the water except that of her, standing near, long dark hair dripping and a face that could only belong to an empress.
I haven't stood in the rain in decades, I think, she shouts. There's something jovial to her in this very moment, to her smile and the way she faces the rain as it pours over her face.
With her, there is always a dichotomy --- real or fantastic, a mother or a partner, a goddess or a woman.
He ignores every restraint and every assumption, and gives in to the feelings he's still allowed in this moment: the cold making his skin prickle, the fear brought by the intense sound of the storm hitting the trees and the house's roof, but especially the searing hot draw towards the woman who doesn't flinch as she looks at the abomination of his existence --- his only equal.
Oscar closes the distance, holds her face with the scraps of gentleness he still recalls and kisses her with the ferocity of a creature fearless of death. Iomene responds with the hunger of a prisoner fed comfort and warmth, holding onto him with nails dug deep as a captive holds onto freedom.
He pulls away with blood seeping through the cracks of his lips, blinking through wet lashes.
You taste like mints, he shouts through the rain.
She's serious when she responds, I considered your preferences.
This takes him by surprise. You knew I'd kiss you?
She smiles with her eyes.
No. But I've been hoping one day you would.
11 notes · View notes
mizukiko-kun · 1 year
Text
Productions of Hamlet where Hamlet downs Horatio’s poisoned wine himself, my beloved. Drinking the poison meant for your best friend to save their life must have felt so intimate…
#bonus points if horatio realises how decisive hamlet is being and just watches him do it with a very broken-hearted look on his face#i prefer that to the struggling and very visibly sobbing horatio. he’s more suited for silent tears. to me.#the rational stoic guy breaks down on the inside and you can see it#ALRIGHT ILL CONFESS that’s just my fav production of hamlet#it’s a musical and it’s in japanese so i don’t think the shakespeare girlies know about it but one day ill write up a post#and in that post ill be so obsessed with it. as i constantly am.#hamlet#also hamlet drinking the poisoned wine also means to me that he gets to kill himself even if he’s going to die from the poisoned blade first#and that makes him as many times killed as claudius. i haven’t thought deep enough about this part#on the other hand it also enables him to die for the purpose of saving someone instead of the purpose of avenging the already dead#(if someone’s trying to produce hamlet with the main message being it’s better to die to save someone than to die for revenge#this would be the chance)#(although why on earth would you want to undermine hamlet’s grief… don’t make his entire story pointless c’mon#if anyone has a better way to fit this point into the story than i do pls tell me)#the amount of times i think about the final scene of hamlet is just the amount of times normal teenage girls do the ending of r&j i guess#also look at this bitch describing what happens in hamlet like it's a real historical event
79 notes · View notes
fruitsyrups · 6 months
Text
It is laaate it is my bedtime it is past my bedtime. So of course I'm in the notes app conceptualizing fics I will never write
14 notes · View notes
Text
Cytonic spoilers ahead
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“For the moment we floated together in the void, our essences touching. Like we were two swimmers in a deep, vast, endless ocean clinging to one another.”
10 notes · View notes
Text
Me at 10:30pm, delusional: I can definitely do the Cazador fight and then go to sleep at a normal time
14 notes · View notes
celestial-toys · 2 months
Text
been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying
#it’s good crying dw i am just. i have so many feelings about this story#Seven’s Celestial Commentary#Everything Stays#writing stuff#i may be stuck in bed struggling to type due to personal reasons but that will Not stop me from cooking up ideas for this fic#there is gonna be so much fucking angst and it’s gonna hurt soooooo good#the more i listen to it the more the possibilities expand#i can easily see Moon and Reader going back and forth between verses vulnerably arguing over Sun#but i can also see it being Sun and Moon getting real and discussingcougharguingover Reader#can’t decide which i like more#god i wish y’all could see this story the way it plays out in my head#next best thing would be to keep writing and sharing the story instead of vagueposting abt future plot points tho wouldn’t it lmao#and GOD don’t even get me fucking STARTED on Two Hearts…#Dermot Kennedy’s music is responsible for yet Another plot point for this story and i can’t even be mad about it. his fucking lyricsss dude#‘and so we jump to the THEATER??? in that SAME OLD TOWN???’ DO WE? FUCK I GUESS WE DO NOW!!!#picture me listening to that song and inspiration hitting me like a truck. diligently taking notes like the lyrics r instructions from God#‘she sees his face?? and HE sees HER as the LIGHTS GO DOWN???’ write that down write that down#‘the life that they should’ve had sat between them that night??’ FUCK Man yeah it sure did!!!#anyways it’s chill i’m chill. i’m very normal about my little stories and their musical inspirations!#and i’ve listened to these songs a very normal amount (translation: they will likely be in my top ten for the 2024 wrapped)#(cut to the scenes playing vividly in my head) ‘Well‚ at least I can always say that I /told/ her!’#‘I can’t relate to having a heart like that‚ Sun! With all of your wonder and your trust intact…’#like no i wouldn’t lift the lyrics directly for the song to use as dialogue but FUCk does it work well.. Lucky is such a good script for-#like- a heated conversation between my Relentlessly Positive Sun and my Apathetic Jaded Moon#‘How could our farewell mean as much as our time? Honey‚ I’ll be gone. It’s better if I’m something that you leave behind.’#‘I used to paint these trees‚ now I just scream at the sky. Honey I was wrong. Guess there’s certain things you never leave behind.’#*sobbing shaking throwing up clawing at the walls* I Am Normal About These Characters#anyways uh. on an unrelated note how many song lyrics do ya think i can cram into ES before it’s Too Many#gonna have to start getting creative with how i can incorporate more songs in a way that feels natural and not forced#even tho i am forcing it. i am forcing it very much bc i have songs with applicable lyrics and y’all Will read them one way or another
3 notes · View notes
thedarkestgreys · 2 years
Text
sometimes my brain gets stuck on the fact that fezco took off that green sweater to go beat nate’s face in and collectively a bunch of us were like “that’s the hottest thing a man has ever done”
Tumblr media
69 notes · View notes
luthiery · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the animal inside got a hold of us but we don’t regret a thing 
35 notes · View notes