#there's no easy solution to anything it feels like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ach-sss-no · 2 days

Text

someone asked why i loudly asserted that the stewing rabbits bit of lotr is the opposite book vs. movie and i think it is time to move off of the giant reblog chain i'm making

The Premise: Sam, Frodo and Gollum are all doing the opposite of what they are doing in the book in some fashion or another

(first off: in the movie they abandon the stew and don't eat it. the book takes a lot longer with all of this, and they do in fact eat the stew, and I definitely understand the movie couldn't be as expansive with the pacing but it's just. funny to me. they don't eat the stew vs. they do eat the stew, there's your first opposite)

now. THE SCENE: Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit

(Small disclaimer/disclosure: I referenced the script instead of a movie clip for this, so there may be some nuance missed in visuals or whatever but I don't think it would be enough of a difference to matter and hopefully you will soon see why not)

Frodo

Starting with him because this is simplest.

In the movie, Frodo is just sitting there minding his own business when Gollum dumps dead rabbits in his lap. (Then he doesn't interact with the ensuing conversation at all)

In the book he's asleep when Gollum brings the rabbits and does not participate in the scene. Okay, so he's awake vs. asleep. Easy.

(Also, book Frodo didn't witness the conflict between the other two characters and had no opportunity to intervene, which creates an interesting 'what could have been', but I am digressing. We are only 10% of the way in. buckle up)

Sam

In the movie, Sam is passive and reacting. Gollum dumps dead rabbits in Mr. Frodo's lap oh no what do I guess we'll cook them

In the book, Sam is active and orchestrating events.

Sam decides of his own accord that he wants to address their dwindling supplies:

Sam had been giving earnest thought to food as they marched. Now that the despair of the impassable Gate was behind him, he did not feel so inclined as his master to take no thought for their livelihood beyond the end of their errand; [in case you forgot. Earlier on Sam was like 'we won't have enough food for the way back' and frodo essentially responds with 'the way back. oh you sweet summer child'] and anyway it seemed wiser to him to save the waybread of the Elves for worse times ahead.

Note: This is all very good reasoning by Mr. Samwise and an excellent example of why he's so necessary to the quest! Yes, staying alive is step one.

But Where to get food? In both movie and book Sam is taking advantage of his resources (dead rabbits acquired via gollum), but in the book he's way more proactive about it:

An idea struck him and he turned to Gollum. Gollum had just begun to sneak off on his own, and he was crawling away on all fours through the fern. 'Hi! Gollum!' said Sam. 'Where are you going? Hunting? Well see here, old noser, you don't like our food, and I'd not be sorry for a change myself. Your new motto's always ready to help. Could you find anything fit for a hungry hobbit? ' 'Yes, perhaps, yes,' said Gollum. 'Sméagol always helps, if they asks-- if they asks nicely.' 'Right!' said Sam. 'I does ask. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs.'

In this point in the book Sam has now:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Arrived at a solution to the problem without any outside help or suggestions

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

In the point in the movie Sam has done:

Nothing

I'm not exaggerating. In the movie the scene hasn't started yet.

In both book and movie, rabbits are acquired a little while later. In the book this is a nonevent because Sam requested and expected rabbits. In the movie, the rabbits unexpectedly appear, and Gollum says they are for the hobbits to eat (Sam doesn't even come up with the idea to eat them on his own!)

They are young. They are tender. They are nice. Yes they are! Eat them! Eat them! [He bites and tears into the raw meat.]

GOLLUM SHOWED HIM HOW TO EAT THEM LIKE A MOTHER CAT.

Anyway, in the movie, we just cut to Sam stewing the rabbits after that.

But in the book, Sam isn't done arranging things:

He thought for a bit, while he took out his knife, cleaned and whetted it, and began to dress the rabbits. He was not going to leave Frodo alone asleep even for a few minutes. 'Now, Gollum,' he said, 'I've another job for you. Go and fill these pans with water, and bring 'em back! '

'Sméagol will fetch water, yes,' said Gollum. 'But what does the hobbit want all that water for? He has drunk, he has washed.' 'Never you mind,' said Sam. `If you can't guess, you'll soon find out. And the sooner you fetch the water, the sooner you'll learn. Don't you damage one of my pans, or I'll carve you into mincemeat.'

So now Sam has:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Arrived at a solution to the problem without any outside help or suggestions

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

Lovingly watched Frodo sleep

Collected rabbits after they were provided and begun skinning them

Assigned Gollum to fill his cook-pans

Gollum leaves to do this new errand and Sam starts building a cook fire.

He was just stooping over his fire, shielding it and building it up with heavier wood, when Gollum returned, carrying the pans carefully and grumbling to himself. He set the pans down, and then suddenly saw what Sam was doing. He gave a thin hissing shriek, and seemed to be both frightened and angry. 'Ach! Sss -- no!' he cried. 'No! Silly hobbits, foolish, yes foolish! They mustn't do it!' 'Mustn't do what?' asked Sam in surprise. 'Not make the nassty red tongues,' hissed Gollum. `Fire, fire! It's dangerous, yes it is. It burns, it kills. And it will bring enemies, yes it will.'

Sam has just been given a completely sane and rational reason why a fire is a bad idea (they are in a dangerous area and can't risk attention!) (as well as a reason that is less pertinent- it looks like Gollum is afraid of fire, and he may have sensible reasons to be afraid of fire because it is dangerous, but this is not Sam's problem)

Sam addresses the 'it will bring enemies' thing

'I don't think so,' said Sam. `Don't see why it should, if you don't put wet stuff on it and make a smother. But if it does, it does. I'm going to risk it, anyhow. I'm going to stew these coneys.'

And Sam is like, nah.

Now Gollum gets upset that he's 'ruining good meat' by cooking it

Now Sam de-escalates

Now, now! ' said Sam. 'Each to his own fashion. Our bread chokes you, and raw coney chokes me. If you give me a coney, the coney's mine, see, to cook, if I have a mind. And I have. You needn't watch me. Go and catch another and eat it as you fancy -- somewhere private and out o' my sight. Then you won't see the fire, and I shan't see you, and we'll both be the happier. [He still managed to slip in a 'get out of my sight'] I'll see the fire don't smoke, if that's any comfort to you.'

In the movie he just insults the quality of the meat:

SAM What's to ruin? There's hardly any meat on 'em.

...which I suppose is fair in this alternate universe where the rabbits were just dumped in his lap, unwanted.

Then in the movie they skip to the taters conversation, but in the book, there's more!

Back to the book:

Gollum withdrew grumbling, and crawled into the fern. Sam busied himself with his pans. 'What a hobbit needs with coney,' he said to himself, 'is some herbs and roots, especially taters -- not to mention bread. Herbs we can manage, seemingly.' 'Gollum!' he called softly. 'Third time pays for all. I want some herbs.'

Gollum says no.

'Sméagol'll get into real true hot water, when this water boils, if he don't do as he's asked,' growled Sam. 'Sam'll put his head in it, yes precious. And I'd make him look for turnips and carrots, and taters too, if it was the time o' the year. I'll bet there's all sorts of good things running wild in this country. I'd give a lot for half a dozen taters.'

Now Gollum asks what taters are, gets a cryptic answer, and is offered a kind of food he has just expressed he does not want (cooked food) and again ordered to fetch herbs. Gollum declines.

'You couldn't say no to that.' 'Yes, yes we could. Spoiling nice fish, scorching it. Give me fish now, and keep nassty chips!' 'Oh you're hopeless,' said Sam. 'Go to sleep!'

The movie finally has some of the same words in almost the same place:

SAM PO-TAY-TOES! Boil 'em. Mash 'em. Stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish…. SM�AGOL [i'm not fixing it blah] [Sticks out his tongue in disgust] Pbbbttt!! [so now he's just devolved into making fart noises] SAM Even you couldn't say no to that. [He takes a sip of the stew] SM�AGOL Oh yes we could! Spoil nice fish... [scrambles up close to Sam] Give it to usss rrraw... and wrrriggling! [That line is not in the book. every time i see it quoted i age a year] [Makes sickeningly happy face.] You keep nasty chips. [Hops away] SAM You're hopeless.

The scene here ends in the movie.

In the movie, Sam has:

Watched rabbits be thrown at Frodo

Started cooking them after being all but commanded to eat them

Had some banter with Gollum

Left the scene without eating his stew

Sam is a passive character who is not orchestrating events, but rather reacting to them. A character being passive is not in and of itself a bad thing. I am only pointing it out because it is different from the book and a big change to this specific character (wanted to mention that because some people really don't like passive characters in general, I think they have a place. Frodo is rather passive in this scene but he obviously has a purpose.)

...In the book, Sam stews the rabbits for an hour and then eats the stew with Frodo

Frodo yawned and stretched. 'You should have been resting Sam,' he said. 'And lighting a fire was dangerous in these parts.

Wow! Was it? I feel like someone mentioned that earlier.

'Gollum! ' Sam called and whistled softly. 'Come on! Still time to change your mind. There's some left, if you want to try stewed coney.' There was no answer. 'Oh well, I suppose he's gone off to find something for himself. We'll finish it,' said Sam. [...] We don't see eye to eye, and he's not pleased with Sam, O no precious, not pleased at all.'

Whyever not?

To sum, book!Sam has:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Decided he's going to assign Gollum to the problem (This also demonstrates Sam's interpersonal intelligence. He notices what Gollum's capable of and understands intuitively how it can be turned to something industrious and useful) (Sam has made some missteps in other areas which are in the next section)

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

Collected rabbits after they were provided (according to his request), and began skinning them

Watched Frodo sleep

Assigned Gollum to fill his cook-pans, specifically because he does not want to leave Gollum and Frodo alone together, which is sensible

Threatened to carve Gollum into mincemeat, while holding a knife

Watched Frodo sleep and reflected on his poor health

Skinned the rabbits and put them in stew

Been told a cook fire is a bad idea and declined to stop what he's doing. A character being told to stop doing something & continuing with it anyway is another way for that character to show agency.

Asked Gollum to fetch herbs and potatoes (was refused)

Foraged a few herbs himself

Eaten lovely stew (while lamenting that there are no onions in it, and no bowls to put it in ;_;)

Offered Gollum stew long after (hours after) Gollum got angry and left

...all because Sam initially decided he wanted to acquire and cook food, and then took every necessary step to make that happen of his own accord.

Sam is an active character with high agency.

He is also showing more care for Frodo here (watching him while asleep and fretting over his health, lamenting that he somehow made rabbit stew from nothing by using his resources (which do here include another character- people are also resources!) but he can't put it in a nice bowl for mr. frodo- there's just a lot more here, which is natural because prose is a more detail-rich medium. Not all of this would have fit in the movie and I'm not saying it should have.

Even allowing for time, however, I do think there would have been a way to collapse this scene to the needed time requirement and still have Sam in charge of it instead of Gollum.

The scene finally ends on:

Then he noticed a thin spiral of blue-grey, smoke, plain to see as it caught the sunlight, rising from a thicket above him. With a shock he realized that this was the smoke from his little cooking-fire, which he had neglected to put out.

Did anyone foresee this?

Gollum

In the movie, Gollum is foisting a gift on Frodo and forcing social interaction that he doesn't want.

In the book, Gollum wants to go away somewhere so he can eat and is pressed into reluctant manual labor instead

Gollum is a little different from the other two characters in that his personality and motivations are also completely different here. (Where as Sam at least still has the same goals of looking after Frodo and making food.)

The scene is in Sam's POV so what Gollum is thinking and feeling has to be inferred from his actions/words/tone, but he's not exactly subtle.

The movie scene starts off with Gollum turning up with rabbits. He dumps them in Frodo's lap. He makes a spectacle of himself. He starts mauling the corpses.

The book scene starts off with Gollum trying to slip away somewhere to eat in private.

That's another thing. Gollum doesn't demonstratively bite into things Gollum always slips away somewhere to eat in private. Earlier:

It was actually not long before Gollum returned; but he came so quietly that they did not hear him till he stood before them. His fingers and face were soiled with black mud. He was still chewing and slavering. [He didn't bring food back on purpose. He's still chewing because he only has six teeth.] What he was chewing, they did not ask or like to think. 'Worms or beetles or something slimy out of holes,' thought Sam. 'Brr! The nasty creature; the poor wretch! ' Gollum said nothing to them, until he had drunk deeply and washed himself in the stream. Then he came up to them, licking his lips. 'Better now,' he said.

(Emphasis added.. Imagine you just recruited a serial killer to your D&D-party-in-real-life and he silently turns up covered in mud and won't talk to you. It looks like he's been eating bugs. He won't speak. he won't tell you what he's eating.)

Back to the scene in question: Gollum's leaving. Sam flags him down and asks him to hunt.

'Hi! Gollum!' said Sam. 'Where are you going? Hunting? Well see here, old noser, you don't like our food, and I'd not be sorry for a change myself. Your new motto's always ready to help. Could you find anything fit for a hungry hobbit? '

He asks in an insulting and confrontational way. ('old noser' + 'Your new motto's always ready to help' reeking of suspicion)

To be clear, I'm not criticizing Sam whatsoever for disliking and being suspicious of the known murderer he's traveling with against his will. but the way he talks to Gollum does have consequences.

'Yes, perhaps, yes,' said Gollum. 'Sméagol always helps, if they asks -- if they asks nicely.'

Gollum is reluctant and asks to be treated politely. I don't find this response disproportionate or unreasonable. Consider what would happen if anyone talked to LOTR-era Bilbo Baggins the way Sam just talked to Gollum. The ash would still be falling from the sky.

Anyway Sam's response is to mimic the way he talks.

'Right!' said Sam. 'I does ask. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs.'

Gollum leaves, and is gone a long time. While he's gone, Sam gazes lovingly at Frodo, and - this is not directly relevant but I wanted to note it:

Gollum returned quietly and peered over Sam's shoulder. Looking at Frodo, he shut his eyes and crawled away without a sound. [Seeing that Sam and Frodo are occupied, Gollum slips away without interrupting, which is also a different vibe from 'assaulting Frodo with rabbits while he's just sitting there.'] Sam came to him a moment later and found him chewing something and muttering to himself

Look! There's a character arc happening in the background [but not in the movies] It will reach fruition at Cirith Ungol [in the books]

Anyway, Gollum is chewing on something so he's clearly taken time out to hunt for himself as well (note for context: He's disastrously underweight and has been complaining of hunger).

On the ground beside him lay two small rabbits, which he was beginning to eye greedily. 'Sméagol always helps,' he said. `He has brought rabbits, nice rabbits. But master has gone to sleep, and perhaps Sam wants to sleep. Doesn't want rabbits now? Sméagol tries to help, but he can't catch things all in a minute.'

Gollum has brought rabbits on command, and he's reluctant to hand them over. This is the direct opposite of bringing rabbits of his own accord out of nowhere and forcing them onto somebody.

'Now, Gollum,' he said, 'I've another job for you. Go and fill these pans with water, and bring 'em back! ' 'Sméagol will fetch water, yes,' said Gollum. 'But what does the hobbit want all that water for? He has drunk, he has washed.' 'Never you mind,' said Sam.

That was a reasonable question, asked politely and prefaced by 'yes I'll do it'. There's no call for a 'never you mind' and there's certainly no call for this:

`If you can't guess, you'll soon find out. And the sooner you fetch the water, the sooner you'll learn. Don't you damage one of my pans, or I'll carve you into mincemeat.'

Gollum does the work and is careful with the pans as requested.

He was just stooping over his fire, shielding it and building it up with heavier wood, when Gollum returned, carrying the pans carefully and grumbling to himself.

He set the pans down, and then suddenly saw what Sam was doing.

Gollum discovers that 'Never you mind' meant 'I am going to do something you find dangerous and terrifying' i'm pretty sure this is what he's seeing in his POV

He gave a thin hissing shriek, and seemed to be both frightened and angry. `Ach! Sss -- no!' he cried.

Gollum gets angry.

At this point in the movie, Gollum has:

Dumped rabbits in Frodo's lap

Told him to eat them

Played with the dead animals in front of Frodo

there's a cut to Sam cooking the rabbits- Gollum makes no comment at all on the safety or feasibility of a fire, but gets right up close to it to peer into the cookpot, so he must not be too scared of it.

In the book, Gollum has:

Tried to slip away, presumably to eat, because he's hungry. Or maybe he just wants alone time! Shelob is not in visiting range. He's not being dastardly. Leave him alone

He's been flagged down to do additional work, and interrupted from whatever he wanted to do

Went off somewhere. Caught two rabbits (with his bare hands, I assume??) Also caught at least one other thing, because he's chewing something when he comes back

Came back with rabbits

Left Sam to his tender moment with Frodo and went off for more alone time

Gently floated the idea that perhaps Sam doesn't want these rabbits anymore, surrendered the rabbits when asked

Agreed to another errand that is probably difficult for him to do, after hunting down at least two rabbits Up to this point Gollum has been called 'old noser', had his speech patterns parroted at him in a mocking way, had a polite question refused, and been told he will be 'carved into mincemeat' if he damages the cooking pans (does Gollum even know what a cooking pan is? When was the last time he's seen one? Was he just handed some foreign object and told 'put water in it and don't break it' 'of course! why?' 'stfu') Gollum has a whole long complicated history that would reasonably make him very prone to difficulties with emotional regulation. Severe trauma and centuries of social isolation are involved.

He only just now gets angry, now that he thinks Sam is going to start a forest fire and summon orcs and the first word out of his mouth is a relatively restrained 'Ach!' a word that doesn't even start with an F!

Gollum says fire is harmful and will draw enemy attention. Sam says essentially 'probably not but if it does that's too bad'.

Another bit of context is that Gollum has been presenting himself as the 'wilderness survival guy' and has obvious pride when he's talking about finding his way through the marsh. Sam isn't just being dismissive of Gollum, he's particularly dismissing something Gollum has real knowledge of and takes pride in that has nothing to do with being a corrupted evildoer.

Then Sam says he's going to cook the food.

'Stew the rabbits!' squealed Gollum in dismay. `Spoil beautiful meat Sméagol saved for you, poor hungry Sméagol! What for? What for, silly hobbit? They are young, they are tender, they are nice. Eat them, eat them!' He clawed at the nearest rabbit, already skinned and lying by the fire.

After all of that, we are at 'They are young, they are tender, they are nice. Eat them, eat them!' In the movie, the scene started with this line, apropros of nothing, and it's just. Yelled at Frodo. It's an invitation.

In the book: The same line is a cry of frustration. This isn't a non sequitur, this is a last straw! Gollum is hungry. He's been chronically hungry for a long time. The rabbits are exactly the kind of thing he likes to eat. They must smell amazing to him because now they're skinned. He had to turn them over to Sam after going to the work of hunting them (he didn't have to do this, he could have just not come back, or pretended he didn't find anything- whether or not his motives are pure, and they probably aren't, he's doing what he promised).

In return: Sam told him to do more work, and then started a fire- which Gollum seems to genuinely think is idiotic and puts his own safety at risk because he's stuck with these hobbits for the time being- Sam won't listen to reason and put it out, and to add insult to injury, that meat he insisted on?

HE'S JUST GOING TO RUIN IT

Imagine you were hungry and you brought someone an oreo (also you had to wander around in the woods and find the oreo and then surprise it from behind and break its neck), and that person just! scraped off the cream filling and replaced it with spray cheese! after that person called you a jerk and set a fire in a trash can! Maybe that person loves spray-cheese oreos! Maybe everyone but you loves them! I think you'd still be frustrated! (If you're the person who loves spray cheese oreos, pretend it's something else.)

On my first reading of the book this is where I got that sinking 'I am feeling a mite sympathetic to the horrible murderer that I know is just going to stay evil and die in the end' feeling. Gollum is being dreadfully annoying, but he's been pushed past his ability to self-regulate. It feels like the dynamic of antagonizing someone until they melt down and then criticizing them for melting down (Sam is not intending to do this, and doesn't even seem to notice that's what's happened, but the result is the same.)

Sam smooths things over and lets Gollum leave! until

Until

'Gollum!' he called softly. 'Third time pays for all. I want some herbs.' Gollum's head peeped out of the fern, but his looks were neither helpful nor friendly.

WHYEVER NOT?

'A few bay-leaves, some thyme and sage, will do -- before the water boils,' said Sam. 'No! ' said Gollum. `Sméagol is not pleased. And Sméagol doesn't like smelly leaves. He doesn't eat grasses or roots, no precious, not till he's starving or very sick, poor Sméagol.'

(Gollum was retching at the scent of flowers earlier. He may be annoyingly dramatic but I have no cause to doubt that they really did make him feel ill)

(also, I'm out in the weeds speculating now, but I just noticed Gollum is starting to spout off talking about himself and how he feels after Sam pooh-poohed his fretting about the fire, and it feels like a bid for recognition, did you notice Sam has not been calling him Sméagol? Sam isn't using his real name.)

The response:

'Sméagol'll get into real true hot water, when this water boils, if he don't do as he's asked,' growled Sam.

Gollum is here under duress and is cooperating with a quest that is in every way opposed to his personal interests and survival.

'Sméagol won't go, O no precious, not this time,' hissed Gollum. 'He's frightened, and he's very tired, and this hobbit's not nice, not nice at all. Sméagol won't grub for roots and carrotses and -- taters. What's taters, precious, eh, what's taters?

He hasn't had any rest because he was immediately sent off to hunt. I'll bet he is tired

Gollum is still willing to stop being angry because he saw a shiny new word, let's see how this goes

`Po-ta-toes,' said Sam. 'The Gaffer's delight, and rare good ballast for an empty belly. But you won't find any, so you needn't look. But be good Sméagol and fetch me the herbs, and I'll think better of you

Sam gives a cryptic answer and demands more work. 'I'll think better of you?' Lies! Gollum just did two errands and received nothing but more verbal abuse. Sam did not even thank him. This was where on my first reading I was saying to myself 'oh no Sam is mishandling this really badly and doesn't even notice'

I'll cook you some taters one of these days. I will: fried fish and chips served by S. Gamgee. You couldn't say no to that.' 'Yes, yes we could. Spoiling nice fish, scorching it. Give me fish now, and keep nassty chips! ' 'Oh you're hopeless,' said Sam. 'Go to sleep!'

Gollum doesn't understand what chips are. He just said he doesn't like plants or cooked food. He's tired and hungry and has been ordered around all day. He did everything asked up to now and in return he gets called hopeless.

Sméagol willingly, nonconfrontationally, successfully did two out of the three tasks, and when he refuses a third task after being demeaned and dismissed, he's called hopeless.

So Gollum leaves. That's the end of his involvement in this scene. he didn't hit anyone, bite anyone, or call Sam anything worse than 'not nice', 'silly' and 'foolish' (He does not call Sam a 'stupid fat hobbit', that appears to be a movie invention as well)

In the movies, he threw dead animals at frodo and some of this dialog was said without any of the context. haha funni.

The takeaways from the book version are that Gollum can understand and follow verbal commands and do errands (this is important because Gollum needs to be somewhat sane and lucid in order to satisfyingly be held accountable for his crimes), will cooperate when asked, communicates poorly, has trouble controlling his temper, and may at any time be in physical distress and not show it. (He doesn't give outward signs of fatigue.)

The takeaways from the movie version seem to be that Gollum is hyperactive, doesn't understand facial expressions, and finds cooking to be an alien custom. No one tried to ask him to do anything, so I have no idea whether he can understand requests and do tasks or not. May or may not be lucid.

Can we at least agree that Sam saying 'You're hopeless' after this:

Give it to usss rrraw… and wrrriggling! [Makes sickeningly happy face.]

is a different vibe from Sam saying 'You're hopeless' after hearing this?

'[Sméagol]'s frightened, and he's very tired, and this hobbit's not nice, not nice at all.'

Summary

Why is this scene the opposite?

Frodo has gone from being asleep but serving as an emotional anchor (both Sam and Gollum look at him and have some kind of emotional revelation, although the latter has his in private and we don't ever know what it is, the cad) to being awake but doing nothing and leaving. (He does go and find Faramir when the scene ends, but at that point, we are moving on to the next scene. so I don't count it.) Frodo has gone from affecting events while asleep to having no effect while awake

Sam has gone from being in charge of what's happening to passively reacting to a chaos gremlin

Gollum has gone from following orders until he can't take it anymore and suffering to being a chaos gremlin who does whatever he wants and seemingly having a good time? he's dancing around

The stew goes from eaten to uneaten

The overall purpose of the original scene appears to have been mainly to establish character and relationship dynamics. The movie scene... is doing the same, I suppose, but it's so brief and stripped of context that it almost feels like an homage more than a real scene, like it's there because they couldn't get away with entirely cutting it. And as every character is behaving contrary to what they used to in one form or another, the overall effect is:

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Ask me about the waterfall scene next

#long post #never ask me about the waterfall scene

95 notes · View notes

roguelov · 2 days

Text

Crimson Stained Petals (Chapter 4)

Summary: Set in the 1880s, rumors and mysteries swirled around a quaint town, mostly about a lord tucked far into the woods. Arriving in town, you could not deny your curiosities, but you were not here to stay. Or so you thought. Low on funds, and a job for a live-in servant advertised in the paper, you now found yourself in the home of Lord Morpheus - the source of all rumors. Passions and tensions will grow. Questions will be answered, but may come at a hefty price. And a promise may be broken. But, is Lord Morpheus, and those few residents, truly as scary as they seem?

Words Count: ~3.4k

Reader: Fem

Warnings: minor angst (dealing with nightmares and depression), mostly fluff, pining, blood (reader gets minor cut)

Chapter 3 and more chapters to come!

Over the few days, Morpheus had noticed a dreary cloud forming and seemingly growing over your head. It casted its gloom and rain dampening your radiance. Your smile was not quite as bright, it barely reached your now sullen eyes. Your presence was no longer felt in every room. Your laughter, your occasional humming, your musical-like steps were gone. You were a shadow, a husk. And big by bit, you retreated from him; you actively avoided him, or so he believed.

“Lucienne,” Morpheus asked one evening.

The pair was in the study. Papers littered all over the desk along with uncapped inkwells and used fountain pens. They poured and poured over the dull necessities of maintaining the bookshop - going over profits, bills, shipments, and new orders.

Lucienne peered at her lord over her glasses quizzically. “Yes?”

“Have you spoken with our dear mortal recently?” Morpheus still stood over the desk and continued to scan over documents, trying not to look bothered by his inquiring question or your sudden change.

“No, I haven’t.”

A tension set in his jaw. “I see.”

Lucienne quickly picked up on Morphues’s displeasure. A smile tugged on the corners of her lips. She was not oblivious to her lord’s far more chirper attitude since welcoming you into the manor. “May I ask what brought up this question?”

“Curiosity,” he replied nonchalantly.

Lucienne hummed, unconvinced. “Curiosity? Or concern?”

Her question stirred a reaction out of him. Morpheus whipped his head, now facing Lucienne directly. “And if I am, is there anything wrong in worrying about her?” His question was one of concern for you, yet his tone in which he spoke was biting - what exactly was Lucienne implying?

Lucienne’s smile only grew. She calmly responded, “No, sir.”

Upon seeing Lucienne’s calmness, Morpheus’s shoulders instantly dropped. His anger was misplaced. All the fight was drained from him, and soon the truth spilled out. “She -“ he sighed - “she does not seem happy and … and I do not know if it is because of living here or because of troubled nights.”

Lucienne thought of how there was an easy solution to his conundrum: he should speak with you. However, she held her tongue this time and instead opted to ask a question regarding you. “Troubled nights?”

“The other night, she spoke of having a nightmare.” Morpheus’s eyes shone with a heavy sorrow. “She … she was utterly frightened, Lucienne. Her fear nearly choked me.”

Lucienne frowned. “I was not aware, but a nightmare is a nightmare. There is not much one can do.”

Morpheus sighed, dropping into his chair. He tipped his head back and stared blankly up at the high ceiling. His heart - ancient and heavily barricaded - ached to see you smile. Just once more, just for a moment. In such a brief period, you had invaded his thoughts. He did not realize he craved it, sought it out, until it was taken from him.

Taken.

It seemed many things were taken from him in recent years. He pushed aside those thoughts and painful memories. He ran his hands over his face then through his tousled hair. Such complex feelings swirled inside his chest and constricted his heart.

“You care for her.” Morpheus lifted his head, looking towards Lucienne. She continued, “Which is never a bad thing, sir. She has brought new life here.”

And in you, she thought.

“I care for all of you,” he answered, dismissing her comment.

“You do, and we appreciate it.”

He raised an eyebrow at the weighted pause at the end of her sentence. “But?”

She smiled to herself. “I believe the care you feel for us and her are different.”

Morpheus frowned. Was he truly so easy to read? Did he truly become enamored with his housekeeper so quickly like a tale of forbidden romance? Did he truly want a partner … or did he want something else? He turned his head away, grumbling to himself.

Care? If one could call it such.

Does a farmer not care for his slaughter? Care, hunger, desire, it all can twist together. They can form into complex knots, making it impossible to tell where one may begin or end.

“For you, my lord.”

A beautiful picturesque rose dripping in a passionate red appeared in front of Morpheus’s face. He was working tediously in his study, and surprisingly failed to hear him. He just appeared, a magical and strange habit of his.

Morpheus blinked, gently taking the rose out of his hand. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

He smiled warmly like a sunny day. His wondrous new grander had already made such a change in the once dismal manor. Colors of all sorts were injected into the very foundation. Flowers bloomed wildly and freely, life blossomed with a new fever. “I thought you might like it, sir. Red suits you perfectly.”

”How do you do it, Lucienne?” Morphues whispered softly, changing the conversation. His voice was filled with sorrow as memories resurfaced. Sweet, painful memories, ones he wished he could forget yet also wouldn’t trade anything in the world for they were more precious than any gold or jewelry.

“Meaning what, sir?”

”To be close to her, to not be affected by her?”

Ah.

”Well, someone taught me control.” Lucienne slowly organized papers. “Someone had once found me in an awful state and was able to bring me back to my senses. Now, part of me cannot bare the smell of human blood without my stomach twisting into disgust.”

Morpheus’s eyes softened.

Lucienne gathered up the papers, ready to part of the night. “A solution to your problem: perhaps you can try to talk to her and cheer her up, sir. I’m sure she would appreciate the gesture.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how would I do that?”

She chuckled, almost in a knowing way, and strolled out of the study. “I believe you will figure it out, sir.”

The soft click of the door echoed in the now quiet, lonely space. Morpheus peered over to the window with its curtains drawn. Even drawn closed, the setting sunlight streamed through the cracks trying to warm the earth in its last moments. Tilting his head, he saw the surrounding woods fade in the dying light. As his gaze darted around taking in the surroundings, it landed on a corner of dark greens and deep reds. Lucienne’s words replayed in his head. He was on his feet, already looking for you before he fully understood it himself. His feet carried him downstairs towards your room, however he stopped in the dining room. Looking ahead, he instead saw you sitting in the sun room. You were on the couch with your back to him and your head bowed. He immediately changed course.

Quietly, he opened the door. The potted trees and fauna stretched its shadows and created unique jagged shapes. A soft orange bathed over the room. The fractured soft light shone through the glass and casted you in an ethereal halo of twinkling gold.

You were a goddess of light.

As he walked towards you, you did not stir. You had heard him by the high pitched squeak of the door and the faint clacking of the heels on the tile floor. He stopped by your side, peering down at you. “I see you are still reading that book from before.”

You laughed, a quick huff through your nose, and closed the book in your lap. You glanced up at him with a forced smile. “Trying and failing, sir.”

His eyes swept over your face. Gaunt was the first word to come to mind. You appeared gauntly and ragged. Bags were carved under your eyes, and your skin had lost its glow. He pushed on, trying not to dwell and stare at your new appearance. “And what has your mind occupied this time?”

The other night. The nightmares. An unpleasant past. You.

“I suppose a lot of things,” you answered with a heavy sigh.

Morpheus frowned slightly. Yet, he quickly wiped it away, replacing it with a small endearing smile. He extended his hand down towards you. “I know a place to help clear your mind, would you care to join me?”

Your eyes flickered up. His dazzling blue eyes - contrasted against the golden dazzling air - only showed kindness and a hint of concern. You should refuse, you should stay or perhaps return to your room for the night, but … but how could you say no? Not when he looked at you in such an alluring way, and not since he piqued your deep rooted curiosity. You carefully set the book aside on the plush cushions, and placed your hand in his. “I would love to.”

Morpheus’s smile grew as he drew you up to your feet. “Wonderful.”

He hooked your arm through his and guided you forward. Together, you walked out through the back entrance of the sun room, heading directly for the rose maze. The sun had dipped below the horizon, however its last bits of rays faintly colored the sky. Oranges and pinks still stained the vast canvas known as the sky. They desperately clung behind as rich purples, dark blues, and an all consuming black began to drip down coating all corners. The moon, perfectly sliced in half, already shone in the dimming sky. Its companions, stars, began to twinkle and fill the empty space for the moon was never alone. The rose maze, under this changing light, was mysterious. The greens almost appeared black, while the reds were embers of a dying fire. Excitement buzzed across your skin. Your heart flipped, nearly dropping into your stomach. It was all so thrilling to finally set food inside, and to be by Morpheus’s side as your guide.

Even if you shouldn’t, even if a logical part scolded you.

Morpheus drew you close as you approach the entrance of the maze. “Now, stay close. At night, it can be tricky to navigate.”

There was a hint of humor in his voice as if he was trying to spook you. You chuckled, shaking your head, “Really? Is that your plan? To take me in and do what you want without anyone seeing?”

He laughed, a deep rich laugh that vibrated in your own chest. “You have me figured out.”

You smiled, a true genuine smile. It returned as if it never truly left. It was nice to be joking and laughing with him. It was surprisingly so easy, like two friends and nothing else.

No titles, no past.

Stepping into the maze was stepping into another world. The maze hedges were easily seven feet tall and two or three feet wide, it fully blocked out the world the further you walked in. The hedges were cut and trimmed to perfection. No branch stuck out, only roses. And the roses? Gorgeous with no flaws. There were full roses with their petals spread out to greet you, there were buds still closed waiting for their time, and there were roses in every stage of blooming covering almost every inch of the hedges. The sweet floral aroma tickled your nose and filled the air.

You hummed, pleased by the scent.

Morpheus peered over at you, taken by your wide curious eyes. Your eyes darted all around, fascinated by it all, memorized by its beauty. Strolling further in, he followed the correct path leading to the center of the maze. His stride did not hesitate, but only slowed when your eyes longingly lingered back on all the passing flowers.

Best of all, and to your surprise, there weren't only red roses.

No, the deeper you walked the red stayed, yet yellows, pinks, and whites were slowly incorporated into the mix. A beautiful blend, and various shades, of warm inviting colors. It was like a storybook, a scenery plucked from a far off prosperous kingdom. Tempted by their beauty, you reached out, running your fingers along the soft petals. It was fine silk, or like a cloud.

“Careful -“

You hissed, stopping in place. A thorn had pricked your thumb.

Morpheus instantly frowned and moved in front of you. He carefully took your hand, examining your thumb. It was nothing to be concerned about. An insignificant prick, no worse than a paper cut. A small dot of blood began to well up. The dot sparkled like a certain ruby pinned to his tie. Before he could stop himself, Morpheus brought your thumb up to his lips. His lips - soft and gentle - pressed into the pad of your thumb kissing it.

Your heart flipped in your chest.

Morpheus’s eyes glanced up, locking with yours. A look flashed across his eyes, a look which could only be described as hunger. He nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs by such a simple look. He pulled away and dropped your hand. Turning his back to you, he mumbled, “Apologies for my behavior.”

He licked his lips, tasting the tiniest bit of your blood. He had to suppress a groan. It was truly addicting, like a newly discovered liquor he could happily get drunk off of each and every night.

“I have an older sister who used to do such a thing if any of us were injured. It’s a habit I unknowingly picked up,” he explained.

No, not explained but excused. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. However, it was a lie he told himself and you, rather than admit the aroma of your blood tempted him to act.

“It’s okay,” you muttered, feeling your heart skip in a way you had never felt before. “I should have known better.”

Morpheus wanted to say something, wanted to do something. He wanted to draw you close, he wanted to wrap his arms around your waist, he wanted to nuzzle his face into your neck, he wanted to hear you say his name over and over, he wanted to -

“Please,” he cleared his throat, “I would refrain from running your fingers over them. The thorns are quite sharp, and we needn’t any more accidents. Come, the center is up ahead.”

He walked - no, marched - ahead, and did not bother looking back to see if you were following.

Your lips thinned in thought. You silently followed him as this bizarre tension hovered in the shared space. The only sounds were the crunching of both of your shoes against the pebbled path. You eyed Morpheus’s back curiously and with some trepidation. He had once again pulled away from you. He showed you such kindness, yet almost scared by something he backed off. Why? What frightened him? What thoughts floated around in that head of his?

Why do you care, a voice called out.

You tensed a little. Why did you? It was so pointless and idiotic, especially when -

“We’re here,” Morpheus said. He rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Skirting around the hedge, you let out a small gasp. The pebbled path opened up. The space was carved into a perfect circle, with patches of lush full grass that tempted any tired feet to rest. One could lay and gaze up at the stars, or have a picnic in the high sun. However, most would turn to the concrete benches that surrounded the showstopper: a fountain at the very center. The fountain - smaller than the one in front of the house, yet had four tiers compared to the three - had dozens upon dozens of rose petals floating across the surface. Peering up, the moon looked back down at you in this secret oasis smiling. Its light rippled in the water, scattering its reflection. With the various colors from the roses, and the moonlight’s, it glittered here like a treasure trove.

It was breathtaking.

Morpheus glanced over his shoulder back to you. His heart lurched forward. You looked so beautiful under the moonlight. You slowly approached the foundation, dipping your fingers into the cool water. You picked up a petal, admiring it before setting it back into the water. A smile never left your lips. Any issues, any problems from before, were gone. Each of you solely existed in this moment. Morpheus felt his heart being drawn to you, bound to you. Anything you wanted, anything to keep you smiling, he would do.

What a frightening and thrilling feeling, so familiar yet so foreign to him.

You moved and sat down on the bench, watching as the water spilled over the tiered edges and as petals spun and danced on top of the water. The sounds of the water splashing, and trickling, was hypnotic and soothing. You sighed dreamily and murmured to yourself, “What a beautiful place.”

“It is.” You turned your head, looking up at Morpheus. His eyes were directly on you as he spoke, you always seemed to get his full attention. He smiled softly. He produced a rose from behind his back - a pure white rose that glittered like snow under the moonlight. He sat beside you on the bench, “May I?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, tucking the roses behind your ear. As he drew back, his nimble fingers skimmed along your jaw. His eyes softened. You truly were a fresh change in his life, a well needed change. You had taken his heart in the short time you worked here with your humor, your wit, your curiosity, and your kindness. He was smitten for deep in his heart he was a hopeless romantic.

He turned away from you, looking to the fountain. Your heart skipped. His touch burned across your skin. You reached up, touching the soft pure white petals. A smile crossed your lips as you stared at the multifaceted lord.

“I suppose I have to admit I do have an ulterior motive for asking you to join me,” he began.

“Oh?” You titled your head. “And what would that be?”

To see you smile again, he thought.

“I have a question to ask, a request, and I did not want anyone else to listen in.”

You leaned forward, silently waiting.

He bowed his head, and dare you say appeared to be almost shy. It surprised you to see him in such a way. He peered up at you with a cluster of unreadable emotions on his face. “I would like to ask if you would join me to attend my dear friend’s party.”

“What?” You breathed out.

“I want you to accompany me to Hob’s party, if you so wish to join me.”

“I … I am unsure. I am just taken back by your offer.”

“Do you truly find it so surprising?”

“Given my employment to you, I suppose I do,” you joked lightly.

“If you wish, think of it as a bonus for your wonderous upkeep of the manor.” He searched in your eyes hoping to find his answer. “So? Do you accept?”

You smiled softly, “How could I pass up such generosity? Yes.”

Lucienne was right. Morpheus knew exactly what to do.

Shortly after his surprising offer, Morpheus explained he will take care of anything. He will find a dress for you for the night, and pay all expenses - you reluctantly agreed after much arguing.

Soon, arm in arm again, he guided you out of the maze, and towards your room for the night. He paused in front of you, hovering slightly as if something weighed on him, as if he wished to say something else. His lips parted, but he just bowed his head. “Goodnight, I hope you have sweeter dreams tonight.”

“Thank you,” you bowed your head.

Say something, do something.

Instead, you just simply smiled. “Goodnight, sir.”

You twisted around to go into your room when a hand latched around your wrist. You suppressed a shiver at his cool hand. You peered over your shoulder looking down at the hand then slowly your eyes trailed up to see Morpheus’s wondrous blue eyes.

“Please,” he whispered softly, “when it is just us, call me Morpheus. No need for such formalities.”

Your heart fluttered, like a hummingbird. “Of course. Morpheus. Goodnight.”

His eyes twinkled, utterly overjoyed. A smile spread over his lips. He gently let go of your wrist and stood back with perfect posture. He bowed his head again, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

You turned, finally stepping into your room. You gently shut the door as a giddy feeling washed over you. Morpheus’s footsteps soon faded away. You sighed, dreamily. Taking the rose from behind your ear, you floated over to the nightstand by your bed. You gently laid it down. Your fingers traced over the petals, unable to stop smiling. Maybe later you will get a cup and water for it. Your eyes, however, soon caught a folded piece of paper on the stand. Your smile faltered. Picking it up and unfolding it, your mother and father smiled back up at you. You folded the picture again. You tucked it under the beautiful white rose.

Just a little longer, you thought. I promise.

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #the sandman au #vampire!au #vampire!dream #vampire!morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #vampire!morpheus x reader #vampire!dream x reader #x reader #fem!reader

63 notes · View notes

kimsohn · 1 day

Text

Ꮺ CUTE

pairing . soobin x gn!reader about . 848 words, fluff note . for @obrigados based on this mb!! congratulations <3

the classroom is empty when you walk in, save for the music blasting through your earphones and the squeaking of your shoes against the floor. the window's left wide open, causing a hint of a breeze to flutter in through the gap, but it does everything but make you happy as you slide it down shut.

you eye the small pile of leaves that have made their way through the window gap. the universe seems to hate you today, you think, as you pick up the broom. cleaning duty on a friday is already miserable enough, but with the way the room has been left in an absolute mess after the end of exam season, you know your job today is tenfold harder.

you tackle the floor first, thankful that there are no annoying food crumbs to deal with, before moving onto the board. the chalkboard is dusty, and it takes several rounds of cleaning solution before the etches of the day have faded away. once a lively board filled with classwork and the small doodles in the corner you hope your teacher doesn't notice, the pristine condition of the green frame seems unfamiliar to you. you think that's a good sign though, because it always means you get to start over again on a blank slate the next day.

your last task of today, arguably the hardest, is sorting the desks. things you find on the floor or on the board are often predictable and easy to deal with. the seating arrangements, practically where the students live, are a different story though. you shudder as you clean out the first row, remembering a particularly horrible time when you found a moldy banana peel in the depths of the desk cubby. gradually, you work your way through each section, praying you won't find anything terrible, and as you reach your last desk, you thank god that the worst thing you've encountered so far is crumpled-up papers of chain messages.

you scan the inside of the desk before moving to the top, noticing the calculator in the corner. its presence is foreign, mainly because calculators are too expensive to be simply forgotten on a tabletop, but what intrigues you the most is the bright screen, indicating that it's clearly on. a device normally filled with math formulas and numbers that make your brain dizzy, it's surprising to see a beautiful flower on the tiny frame, made delicately with the selection of different buttons that produce unexpected, yet astonishing results.

you're too zoned into the tunes floating in your ears to hear the clearing of a throat behind you, once, twice, before it lands you a pat on the shoulder. you whirl around, calculator in hand, to see none other than choi soobin standing behind you, looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

"hey," he starts as you take your earphones out. "i think i forgot my calculator here, but seems like you've already found it."

too busy absorbed in your cleaning, you fail to realize that your crush of seven years sits in the exact seat you're standing in front of. to summarize, this situation is extremely awkward, and you feel yourself shriveling as he stares down at you, the clock ticking by agonizingly.

"i'm sorry!" you exclaim, offering the calculator to him. "i was on cleaning duty, and i happened to stumble upon it."

he accepts it gratefully, and the light brush of your fingers against his is enough to make your heart pound. he looks down at the illuminated screen, tracing the edges with his gaze until he pockets the device in his bag.

"so, you saw the flower, huh?" he says, zipping up his bag.

you want to protest, to remain oblivious, but you think he already seems to know the answer.

"yeah," you voice sheepishly, "i didn't mean to though, i swear. it was just already turned on, so..."

"it's okay. it's just something i do when i'm bored."

he turns to leave, swinging his bag over his shoulder, but your voice blurts out before u can stop it.

"it was cute, you know. the flower. you're crazy talented for being able to make it, even if you were bored."

"thanks," he says, turning his head back as he walks to the door. you watch pitifully as he nears closer to the wooden frame, already accepting another meaningless encounter going to waste with your crush, but his voice makes you reconsider everything you've believed in.

"not as cute as you though."

you meet his gaze as his head turns. he smiles, so softly you think you're imagining it, and just like the wind floating away, he's disappeared in thin air.

as you pick up your headphones, wrapping them around your neck, you notice a piece of paper on the desk next to you. your fingers pull it open subconsciously as if it was meant for you, and as you read its contents, you wonder if cleaning day isn't so bad after all.

i hang out by the park after school on fridays. meet me there :)

35 notes · View notes

nebuladreamerrr · 1 day

Text

The art of colours| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: After four hard years of study, you are finally graduating which means you must hand in your final thesis which Kylian is very proud of until he finds out who you have dedicated this thesis to.

Warnings: English is not my first language, and I am not studying anything related to psychology so there may be mistakes in this field.

As you gazed into the mirror, a smile of pride spread across your face, admiring how the satin suit hugged your frame flawlessly. This moment marked more than just the end of your studies and training. It signified your official entry into the realm of psychology, liberating you from the confines of your office.

The past four years have been undeniably challenging, particularly within the realm of psychology, a field so crucial to our daily lives. In an ever-evolving landscape of knowledge, students were required to continuously engage in various training courses to stay abreast of the latest therapies and discoveries. Yet, the most demanding aspect lay in the field placements. Let me tell you, those placements were the epitome of your career's purity, where the true essence of your calling came to light. However, they also exacted an emotional toll. Witnessing the anguish of young children, whose concerns should have revolved around playtime rather than dinner schedules, was profoundly draining. It was in those moments that the weight of the responsibility you carried truly settled upon you.

Finding the perfect balance between personal life and studies proved challenging on a personal level. Kylian's schedule was packed with games, advertising campaigns, conferences, and interviews ever since he announced his departure from the French club, not to mention the upcoming Olympics that summer. Nevertheless, both of you managed to find a way to organize yourselves. Despite the chaos, two days belonged entirely to you: Mondays and Sundays. On these days, you caught up on the little everyday occurrences, from Dembélé's new car to contemplating a vase for your living room. You cherished these conversations, reveling in their innocence and spontaneity. To you, they were a tangible expression of the love you shared, something you made a conscious effort to prioritize. Even though you lived together, daily life often kept you apart more than you'd like.

On the flip side, amidst the stressful situations and disparaging comments your partner endured throughout the year, you made a concerted effort to establish one-on-one sessions on Sundays. In these sessions, you provided a safe space for him to open up and confront the negative thoughts tormenting him, aiming to help him channel these emotions and find solutions to his overwhelming feelings. This task was far from easy. Kylian, being naturally closed off, often attempted to postpone these sessions, fearing vulnerability. Over time, however, they became more manageable. Occasionally, they concluded with Kylian seeking solace in your embrace, tears flowing freely as he grappled with feelings of failure in his endeavors to satisfy French fans, whether due to online criticisms or harsh comparisons with other players.

Kylian marveled at your knack for reframing his thoughts and showing him the silver linings in every situation. He tended to dwell on lost games, mentally berating himself for missed opportunities and what-ifs. However, since meeting you, you consistently helped him find something positive in each of those moments. It was easy for him to forget that his career was a journey of constant growth and learning. Even when a loss felt like the end of the world, you reminded him that it could have been worse—like being sidelined with an injury for the rest of the season. Your perspective not only shifted his mindset but also helped him appreciate the invaluable lessons hidden within every setback.

He was in awe of your ability to infuse brightness into even the darkest moments, whether they were everyday occurrences or major events. Despite his busy schedule, he made every effort to support you in any way he could. Whether it was giving you a massage during long hours at the computer or preparing your favorite breakfast of coffee with almond milk and avocado toast topped with a grated egg, he sought to motivate you on days when you barely had time to eat.

So, when you shared the news that you had finally completed that assignment, he couldn't contain his joy. He enveloped you in a tight hug, overflowing with pride. Without hesitation, he swiftly arranged an elegant dinner by the beach to celebrate the culmination of all the time you spent locked away in your office. Excitedly, he accompanied you as you opened the package containing your five printed papers—four of which would be submitted for your final year dissertation examination, while one would remain in your home as a cherished keepsake.

This morning, he made a concerted effort to motivate you, ensuring to planted a gentle kiss before you departed for your lecture. However, he also wanted you to come home to a space where you could unwind and relax. He mentioned that he would subtly start tidying up his house—perhaps clearing away the breakfast dishes that still lingered or straightening up the living room, which had become a bit disheveled from the movie you only managed to get halfway through before drifting off into sleep.

As he tidied up the living room, his gaze inevitably fell upon your photocopied final-year project, eliciting a smile. His eyes traced the meticulous attention to detail evident in the neatness of the photograph, which sought to visually summarize your thesis. The title, "The Art of Infant Psychology," was adorned with vibrant shades, each color imbuing significance. The accompanying picture, with its play of reverse colors, mirrored the essence of your thesis—exploring how colors could influence children's cognition and how educators, parents, or legal guardians could discern potential concerns through the colors or drawings their children presented.

Subtly, he lifted the book, intending to leaf through its pages at a leisurely pace. While he didn't expect to grasp the technicalities you had employed as he didn't think he could understand the technicalities you had used as you often tried to share them with him and, not understanding them, he would simply kiss you back as he admired you saying, "My girl is the smartest". However, his intention was diverted when a particular page quickly seized his attention: "Acknowledgements."

"Firstly, I would like to express my sincere thanks to my tutor, Chloe, for her guidance, support, and dedication throughout the process of writing this dissertation. Her comments and suggestions have been fundamental to improving my work and carrying it out in her rigorous way.

I would also like to thank the teaching staff of the Psychology degree for providing me with quality training and encouraging my interest in research and innovation in this field.

Furthermore, I am grateful to my friends and family, especially my parents, for their emotional support and understanding throughout the process. Their words of encouragement and motivation have been a great boost to keep going and overcome the obstacles.

Lastly, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to my partner, Kylian, who has been my unwavering support through the darkest days. He has been my greatest inspiration for pursuing this end-of-degree project, as he embodies the essence of the art of colors. To me, Kylian is more than just a footballer; when I look at him, I see the vibrant hues of the rainbow, and for all these reasons, I consider him my source of vitality.

While it's said that no one color is superior to another, I believe that a blend of colors is far more captivating than a single shade. We witness this in a painting, where the variety of colors chosen by the artist leaves us in awe.

Well, that's what Kylian means to me. He embodies the color red, symbolizing vitality and passion, as he tirelessly pursues his dreams and supports those of his loved ones, including mine, even when we feel exhausted.

Moreover, Kylian is like the color orange, representing healing. He has been a source of profound healing for me, especially mentally, arriving at a time when I felt I could barely stand, yet he fearlessly stood by my side, offering unwavering support and reminding me that we're in this together.

Similarly, he radiates the warmth and brightness of the color yellow, bringing joy and optimism into my life. His presence is infectious, spreading happiness like sunlight, simply hearing his voice lifts my spirits.

Indeed, we cannot overlook the significance of the color green, representing nature's enduring presence. Just as Kylian embodies this natural beauty, he also mirrors its essence in his unwavering support and understanding. Much like the everyday rhythms of nature that we often take for granted, Kylian's steadfast encouragement has been a constant in my life. His support has never hindered my academic pursuits or demanded more time than I could give, flowing as naturally as the gentle swaying of tree branches in the wind. For this, I am deeply grateful to him.

Kylian also embodies the tranquility and calmness of the color blue. Despite the pressures he faces, he maintains a serene demeanor, navigating through challenges with grace and composure, much like the gentle sway of tree branches in the wind.

And then there's the color purple, symbolizing magic and spirituality. Kylian's spirit is truly enchanting, inspiring not only me but also those around him. He's deeply influenced by the motivations of his loved ones, infusing his actions with purpose and meaning.

In essence, Kylian has profoundly changed my life since the day we met, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

In summary, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to all the people who have contributed in any way to the realization of this work. Your contributions have been essential to achieving the objectives set and bringing this project to a successful conclusion.

Kylian couldn't help but feel confused and surprised, but above all very happy. From that moment on, his face lit up, as now more than ever he allowed himself to make that night unique to show you how proud and grateful he was that you were part of his life.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #mbappe imagine #mbappe psg #mbappe x reader

26 notes · View notes

burning-academia-if · 1 day

Note

How would the ROs comfort an MC who's going through a really difficult time and crying a lot? (definitely not because I'm having a bad go of it lmao)

Rook: Suddenly, it's like he knows everything about you. He shows up with your favorite snacks and drinks. He sets up your living room like a pillow fort, putting your favorite show/movie on the TV. He does everything he can to get your mind off it, while offering to help in any way he can, or to at least be your escape. He sticks by you for as long as you need.

Beck: He knows those feelings better then he'd like to admit. He'll help you with anything. Don't have the strength for chores on your own? He'll help out. Too out of it to eat? He make sure you have things that don't take a lot of energy to prepare and gently remind you if you haven't eaten all day. He'll help you through it, no matter what

Rhea: She's a solutions person, but she isn't going to jump straight to them when you're probably not even in a state to hear it yet. Instead, she'll get you you're favorite drink, and stay by your side, talking about nothing at all. If you need to talk or not, she's there for you.

Zoe: Is unsure what to do, and finally blurts out if you want to go over to their house. The next thing you know, you have Zoe's entire family bundling you in warmth. It's so bright and lively, that it's almost easy to forget everything. Their siblings drag you to play games, and their parents offer the spare room for you to spend the night if you need. Zoe prepares the room and in a way it almost reminds you of your own with how they arranged some of the items. It's like an escape

Lars: He presses his lips together, and if you're in public when he notices you're about to fall apart, he'll bring you somewhere private. One of the music rooms, an empty classroom, hell even his dorm if it's close enough. He lets you hold onto him and cry it out. An arm wraps around you in awkward comfort. He might not say much, but he'll spend the next week checking in, just to see how you're holding up.

???: They'd do anything to take your pain away. To take it into them, drawing out every ounce of stress and sadness. For now, they keep you close, promising you'll get through this. You've gotten through so much before, you'll make it this time. Don't forget. They'll keep close to you for as long as you need, in whatever way you need.

#em answers #ch: rook #ch: beck #ch: rhea #ch: zoe #ch: lars #ch: ???#I hope things get easier anon

31 notes · View notes

notascreepyasyouthink · 9 months

Text

i am very depressed rn gotta vent in the tags

#feeling extremely unfulfilled #i'm currently visiting my grandma with my mom #and being deadnamed and misgendered constantly for a week does numbers on me #but i'll be out of here in a few days and i'm both excited about it and dreading it #i needed a break from everything but now i'm getting really tired of my family #but on the other hand once i get back from my trip i have 4 days to move out of my shit apartment #and god i hate moving so much #also just depressed because my brain is convinced i can't really get what i want. especially in my dating life #the only people that want me are fucking miserable to be around #on one hand you got absolute assholes i don't associate with but on the other you have people with really bad abandonment issues #and they'll get really fuckin pissed at you if you leave because they're placing all responsibility for everything in their life on you #and i know i shouldn't put myself through that and a few friends have told me it isn't healthy for anybody involved #but it's difficult when the other person is friends with most of your other friends #and i don't feel like i can leave because those friends don't want me to #there's no easy solution to anything it feels like #i wanna just dump him. i dumped him once before but somehow ended up back together. and he's sweet and a good person #but i'm so exhausted. and i don't feel like i can leave because he'll just freak out and get really angry at me again #it's super unhealthy i know #idk man i wanna go but he just wants to keep me around forever #i just can't anymore i'm not happy #but i'll be the bad guy if i break things off and i won't have any friends

0 notes

ginkovskij · 2 months

Text

genuinely not great for mind and heart to be so blatantly unwanted and barely tolerated ):

#leave me with this feeling of guilt and dirt for being in other people's house #(the house is of my parents or my relatives)#makes me feel constantly in the alert state of 'you may have to leave without warning soon'#and general fatigue from trying to be pleasant enough to deserve a minimum of affection and from swallowing all the shit said about me #i know the solution is to leave trust me i don't desire anything else but i am also failed and broken i don't have the money to be on my own #and i feel so bad for complaining all the time like this gh i think after all i have it super easy compared to others ):#mm enough for today sorry bye #notes of a countryside dandy

6 notes · View notes

antisocialxconstruct · 2 years

Text

#throws open a window and just fuckin hollers up at the sky #lately I am feeling more and more taken with the idea of having...... a ~sona~#but I don't know where to start hgfhdfg I feel like what I want doesn't really translate. At least not into my art style #I wish it was as easy as being a furry and just picking out an animal or three that I vibe with #but how do I craft a visual representation of like. 'if given the opportunity I would try to convince people I was a rogue chatbot'#like I don't want you to envision me as anyone or anything I want you to think of me as pure data #I guess the logical solution would be 'just don't have a visual representation of yourself' but that's no fun either :(

10 notes · View notes

whimsyprinx · 1 year

Text

motion sickness is so stupid

#whimsy whispers #im still mad that I got carsick three times the day before yesterday #I wasn’t even doing anything either #like I’ve been more aware of how easy I get carsick lately (it varies for whatever reason) and only really listening to music which doesn’t #usually do anything to me but I was fighting for my life #the first time was bad but manageable then we walked around and did shit and I was fine then the second time I almost died #had to have them roll down the window while I was munching on mints and laying as still as one can in a car #the third time was also bearable the second time tried to kill me #I hate it like maybe I wanna be able to look at shit in the car maybe I wanna use my phone #I lowkey don’t wanna go anywhere because I’m scared I’m gonna get badly carsick again and I don’t like feeling sick #especially cause we don’t have any medicine for it #we should really get some cause kane and I both get carsick #so does lex (hers isn’t motion sickness so much as it is pressure)#sometimes it’s three of us in the same car all dying while everyone else is fine #usually the solution (best possible solution at least) is the have an even number of windows rolled down while we all sit silently and still #anyways hi I need to get some medicine the mints I’ve been hoarding aren’t cutting it

3 notes · View notes

spiltcandycoatedpunkblood · 2 years

Text

everything is a commodity everything is a product everything that happens good or bad is repackaged for the masses that shatters the original image so much you can't remember what it was about everything is destroyed and rebuilt for capitalism pain is parceled off neatly from those that are suffering and screened live and unlive every single day everything is a consumable that can be attacked and bribed for and blackmailed for to show everything nothing is safe it doesn't feel safe everything is displayed in an emotionally driving sense but with the undertones of a cold marketing tactic this is not comfort this is control and all-consuming and capitalistic on real fucking human and complex emotions and feelings and thoughts so people can justify and make sense of everything regardless of consequences and effects on others just give easy and often entertaining solutions and shove everything underground and dust off your hands for the next thing it's all a FUCKING TREND everything eventually gets ignored because there is less and less profit involved

#rant #fuck capitalism #vent #ok to reblog #people can fucking sell anything and now it doesn't mean anything anymore #marketing emotions like it's so cold and simple #it's all disgusting and fake and artificial and WRONG #why should i feel something for a society when they stop giving me anything to feel for??#soulless or victim-blaming garbage #forcing people to want easy and rational solutions to the worst things

3 notes · View notes

exopelagic · 2 months

Text

I AM A CODING GENIUS

#coding assignments due in circa 10 hours. it is 2am #I started roughly 12 hours ago and I’m almost done #I also managed to do in 5 minutes the thing my friend has been struggling with for a month <3 #the problem is that I’m really good at figuring out how code SHOULD work so solutions like that are easy as hell #but making it actually happen? well.#I spent about two hours swearing at my laptop bc these two dumb rasters would not be set to anything except TRUE/FALSE #they would NOT let me change the values for any reason at all and the internet failed me #I think it is time for us as a society to acknowledge that stack overflow sucks actually this is one of my biggest red flags #I despise that site it completely sucks more often than it’s helpful #that might just be bc I’ve done an obscene amount of work with spatial data at this point and spatial data is hell <3 #anyway I’m procrastinating now even though it’s 2am bc I’m feeling confident I can finish this now so the urgency is gone #it will return in maybe 30 minutes bc I said I’d go to bed at 3am but man. these assignments have been the WORST #aaaaaanyway I’m in the hyper stage of tired yknow. the chocolate I just ate probably isn’t helping #so ready for this to be done but unfortunately that means I gotta do it #might as well do as much as I can now I guess so I can get it finished early tomorrow #can clean it up a bunch tonight if I finish it quick too #okay pray for me. I’m already on 5 hours sleep bc I was up until 2 doing the other one yesterday #luke.txt #man my flatmates are ASLEEP now probably wish I was asleep #2:36 update: can confirm I am a genius bc I think I just solved my problem from earlier too

0 notes

queertemporality · 11 months

Text

#the dysphoria is eating me alive #it’s one thousand times better than it was before and yet the absence of the debilitating physical burden of it all #amplifies the psychological impact of what i still have left #and it’s easy to say that my surgeon didn’t give me what i wanted but i am fully #on the hook here for not articulating what I wanted well enough #and my gut for months told me to call and have my surgery plan revised but I ignored the shit out of it #and did such an excellent job at rationalizing my way into a solution I didn’t truly want #and like of fucking course. i wouldn’t be me if I didn’t pick the most difficult and expensive way of accomplishing a goal #if I didn’t rearrange my limbs in an attempt to prove to myself that what I want isn’t what I want #it’s like I’m sawing off toes to fit my foot inside the slipper #and I didn’t want anything to do with the prince in the first place #ykwim?!#i have GOT to kill the psychiatrist in my head #i have GOT to let myself want what I want without feeling like I have to justify it to anyone #and what’s more is I’m pissed at how much I let people’s initial reactions sway my decision #hearing ‘you don’t really want that’ when it’s taken you 7+ years to go from admitting the want #to YOURSELF to admitting the want aloud #(yoda voice) not fun!#i just.. URGH I’m proud of myself (through clenched teeth) for getting even this far #but my god. it’s like shoot for the moon and if you miss yeah the stars are nice #but I wanted the fuckign moon you know? the moon was kind of the point?#didn’t necessarily want to put all that time and resources into floating aimlessly in space #it’s too frustrating to be this close to what I need for my body #while knowing that it’s still (a surgery) (even more money) away #like. ok I’m going to drive myself insane if I say any more words so

1 note · View note

cordeliawhohung · 3 months

Text

simon wants you to ride him. you're a little self conscious. he has the perfect solution.

mafia!141

When Simon admitted to you how badly he wanted you to ride him, so many thoughts flooded your mind you were left torn. You wanted to do it, wanted to please him, yet some malevolent pit of anxiety ate away at the back of your mind. You weren't very experienced when it came to things like that, and the idea of Simon staring up at you as you clumsily attempted to fuck him nearly made you cringe. It made you feel stupid. Of course you knew he would never think anything insidious about you, yet your mind had a tendency to play tricks on you, no matter how wrong it was.

Simon's solution? Blindfold him.

It was a makeshift one; a balaclava that he flipped the bottom half up to cover his eyes, yet it was enough to get the job done. The only features of his face you were able to make out was the faint curve of his nose and the gentle parting of his lips as you straddled his hips. Simon was soft and careful as he helped guide himself into you, allowing you to lower yourself onto him with a soft sigh. There was something different about the angle he entered you at that had your thighs clenching around him so hard you swore they'd bruise.

"Easy," he prompted softly. Simon was always patient with you, always reminding you to take your time, but this time was a little different. His anticipation was obvious in the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallowed and the throbbing of his cock inside of you. Yet, his hands were soft and comforting against your waist as he rubbed his thumbs along your side as if to remind himself of your fragility. "Take it slow, yeah?"

So you did. Testing the waters, you rocked your hips forward in a circular motion, forcing his sensitive tip to grind against the rubbery barrier of your cervix. It felt strange to have him so deep, to split you so deliciously, and then to just stay there, filling you and keeping you full. Despite the blindfold, Simon was not helpless underneath you. His hips twitched upwards in reaction to the little stimulation you provided to him, prompting you to give him more.

Eventually you fell into a comfortable rhythm, and the crux of your ass slapped against the meat of his thighs each time your body crashed against his. His heart pounded away in his chest and you could feel the sensation ripple all the way through his body and to your hands which rested against his stomach to keep yourself steady. Thick corded muscles tensed in his tattooed arms as he began to assist you in bouncing on his length. He lifted you so high just to pull you back onto him it nearly knocked the breath out of you. Emptied just to be filled to the brim so suddenly, and over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn perfect," he groaned. Soon, your movement alone wasn't enough, and as he bounced you up and down like a doll, his hips began to thrust upwards to meet your body halfway, which sent a moan tumbling out of your mouth. "Doin' so well, treatin' me so good, fuckin' hell..."

At some point, you weren't even riding Simon any more. Between the way he held you by your hips, forcing you up and down on his cock, and thrusting up into you, he did all the work. You could feel all his want and desire pour into you like it usually did when you two fucked, but there was something missing. His eyes. Those beautiful eyes that always looked at you as if you held the world in the palm of your hands, that always devoured you in the kindest way possible.

You collapsed forward, breasts pressing against his chest as your lips collided with his where you ate up his groan. Sticky sweat clung to your body but you ignored it as your hands snaked up to his jaw and then to his cheeks underneath his makeshift blindfold. As you pulled out of the kiss, you carefully removed the mask from over Simon's eyes, revealing his dark, wanting gaze and his messy hair. He had a full view of you with your glistening skin and your dancing body. His eyes soaked up the way your body shook with every thrust, how your breasts bounced from the force, how your lips parted with your moans...

Simon came without warning. There was nothing he could do to hold back or even edge himself from the sight of you, and instead he pulled you down onto him one last time before you felt his warmth flood your cunt and legs twitch behind you. Panting, you allowed yourself to fall limp as you pressed your face into the side of his warm neck, and he returned the gesture in kind as he embraced you, keeping you close to him.

"Sorry," he said once he was able to catch his breath. "Didn't mean to... fuck, just seein' you like that, I couldn't... christ...."

Giggling, you kissed the soft tissue that rested in the crook of his neck before you nuzzled even closer to him, basking in the damp warmth of his body. A strange part of you buzzed at his words, at realizing that you had such an intimate hold over him. Where you had been anxious about the idea of him seeing you like that, so clumsy, he had come completely undone just at the sight of you. So you silenced his apologies with your mouth on his before you leaned back to get a look at his flushed face and messy hair.

"Don't apologize," you said sheepishly. "I'll take it as a compliment."

Smirking, Simon's hands gently came to rest on your hips. "Good."

Suddenly, your world spun as Simon twisted to the side, switching your positions so that you laid on your back underneath him. You squeaked at the whirling movement, something he didn't acknowledge as he began to press kisses against your neck with a hungry groan.

"What are you-?" you attempted to ask, but your question was cut off as Simon pressed his hand against your aching clit.

"What?" he asked, smirk evident in his tone. "You didn't think we were done just because I finished, did you?"

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod smut #mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #f!reader

5K notes · View notes