“It was different this time, crawling into Tony's bed and knowing that it was for Tony and not for him, and that Tony had accepted that. Not that Peter didn't take comfort in it, too; he loved being close to Tony, but that's not why he was there. It was a different kind of intimacy, being there to give something, instead of to take it.” — fragment from you’re not yet done by @ursafootprints
my god i’m loving this fic. how the author builds with words? there’s a beauty to it. i’m reading this fic and it feels like i’m reading poetry.
this fic reminds me why i love reading, it makes me feel something, not just being distracted. isn’t that a wonderful thing?
“It was a different kind of intimacy, being there to give something, instead of to take it.” come onnnnn 😭🙏🏼😩
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Ever look at your old art and just…yeah.
BUT that’s unhealthy and toxic. Comfortable somehow in its familiarity, however not useful or helpful.
Be gentle with yourself (says the artist who gives herself a mental throat punch when she looks at old works) and know as long as you keep going forward, you’ll advance.
*twirls white beard and nods at Grasshopper*
Now excuse me while I attempt to take my own advice with gentle eyes and thoughts (Dodges mental knee to the groin.)
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♱ as you like it | sneak peak.
[dare i share one of my favorite lines on this oneshot :’) yes, only a oneshot you guys. it’s a pretty long one, but sy is still the only on-going series i have.]
Your heart, once brimming with devotion, now lay shattered at your feet. All your life, you have loved him. All your happiness and tears, you have devoted to him. You had stood by his side through every trial, every conquest, only to be deemed unworthy of bearing his legacy. The sting of rejection seared your soul, igniting a fierce resolve within your wounded spirit.
With a voice trembling through a mixture of sorrow and defiance, you met his gaze. “Fair enough,” you whispered, your tone laden with a sorrowful resignation. “If it is a concubine thou seek, then so be it. But a divorce, will I not honor. And know this, my lord,” you declared, your voice rising with a newfound strength, “I am the Empress. The only one. There is none within this empire akin to me, for a worthless, lowly concubine shalt not depose this Empress Y/N of Caleum thou wouldst so readily compromise.”
And in that solemn proclamation, you turned away, your stolid mien masking the shattered pieces of your fractured heart.
His countenance remained stoic as he observed your departure, sighing inwardly as you exited his study. Although no longer offering a response, Satoru found himself unable to deny the truth of your words. Nor the power in which you presented them. Your presence lingered in his thoughts, holding sway over him in a manner he could not fathom.
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something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.
“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”
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Tagged by @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz (definitely go check their works!) Thank you loves 🥰
I now return you to angsty Buck in you're where I wanna go
She visibly relaxes, but refuses to look at him as her words hang in the air between them. “I really wish you hadn’t asked, but now you know. Satisfied, Mr. Buckley?”
That- that was not at all what Buck was expecting to hear. It takes several moments for her evaluation to sink in, to get past layers of skin, nerves, muscle and bone until it’s absorbed into his cells. Had he been that obvious? So transparent that even a stranger could see through him? It’s not as if he has a choice in any of this. Confusion bleeds into irritation the more he considers his situation.
“You don’t have to understand,” he informs her curtly. “A-and you’re the one who’s been inserting yourself by approaching every one of them. Acting innocent by offering ‘the young lady a flower.’ This is my burden to bear, regardless of the misery it causes.”
“But why?” She shoots him a frustrated glare. “Why shouldn’t you at least get to be with someone that you don’t have to pretend for?”
Pressure builds at his temples and hot tears sting the corners of his eyes. He’s not going to do this. Not here. “Because I don’t get to have that! You want to figure me out so badly, well there. This is the position I’ve been put in and I don’t get a choice. Any chances I had of a fulfilling, ecstatic existence are gone.”
Images from another life that no longer belongs to him tick by in his brain. Dull fragments that have faded, but not nearly enough, and probably never will. Part of him hopes they don’t. He wipes away a lone tear beginning to roll down his cheek, following a well worn pathway.
Lucy’s face displays a mix of guilt and sadness. He hates how pleased that makes him. But if she’s going to pry him open, she should feel terrible about it.
“I’m sorry, Buck. You’re right. It’s not my place. I will stay out of your business from now on.”
Fuck.
no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @stereopticons @vanillahigh00 @elvensorceress @spotsandsocks @buddierights @911onabc @heartshapedvows @statueinthestone @chaosandwolves @spaceprincessem @jesuisici33 @forthewolves @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @the-likesofus @barbiediaz @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @pirrusstuff @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @watchyourbuck @apothecarose mi amor @lizzie-bennetdarcy @cowboy-buddie @ladydorian05 if you wanna
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I don’t feel like our love is brand new. There must have been lovers, soulmates, before us, experiencing what we get to have. And it’s giving me comfort to imagine there will be many more like us to come. Our kind of love is the kind of love that makes this rotten world worth living in.
prince simon in madrid
a pilgrimage along the world that @prince-simon created 🥹
Simon’s neighbourhood, Chueca
“It’s actually the Queer Neighbourhood of Madrid, and coincidentally also where I live.” He lowered his voice as if to tell a secret, “It’s actually not a coincidence at all.” (chapter 2)
Casa de Campo (view from the Royal Palace lol oop)
Wilhelm didn’t even recognise himself. He didn’t think he’d ever looked that happy. And Simon… his eyes were closed and his curls were a mess and Wilhelm had never seen anyone more beautiful. (chapter 3)
El Retiro
Simon looked at Wilhelm much too adoringly for a statement this goofy. “The ducks are gay!” He yelled at Santiago and Paula, “Just so you know!” (chapter 9)
Palacio de Cristal
“Here’s a funny thought - bear with me, okay? But just imagine. Flowers. Everywhere, like on the ceiling, up the walls. Fairy lights scattered all through it. It would be so gorgeous as a- uh, like. For a wedding…” Realising where his train of thought had gotten him, Wilhelm fell quiet, looking at Simon with wide eyes. (chapter 9)
El Palacio Real de Madrid (more specifically the Throne Room lmfao)
Simon traced his fingers over the bruises on Wilhelm’s neck and in the opening of his dress shirt, humming contentedly. Wilhelm followed the movement in the mirror, and marvelled at how good they looked together, how well they fit together and how much Simon belonged right here – on the throne, with Wilhelm. He deserved the world and so much more. (chapter 12)
Museo Nacional del Prado
Around them, the other visitors kept moving, admiring the art on the walls, and for the moment Wilhelm felt infinite, imagining himself a painting, looked at and analysed hundreds of years from now. El Abrazo de los Príncipes.
Lo Spasimo, Raphael, 1515-1517
“Are we allowed to kiss in front of Jesus on his way to crucifixion or is that tasteless? Because I really want to kiss you right now, Simon.”
Las Meninas, Diego Velázquez, 1656
“He made me look at Velázquez in the painting and how he was looking back at the viewer, at me. I still remember the exact tone of his voice, how he was so certain when he told me that I had every right to be where I am. That I am the subject of this painting, the king being painted. All those tyrants, King Felipe and Emmanuel and all those that came in between, they are trapped in that mirror forever while I am here, alive, we’re here. Velázquez is looking at two queer princes, ready to paint us.” (chapter 13)
Casa Alberto
“So, tell me more about this special part of Madrileñan history.” He was slightly teasing but mostly actually curious.
Simon seemed all too eager to answer that question, and it hit Wilhelm how genuine Simon’s care for his city — his country — and its people was. It made him a little sad to know that a lot of people didn’t get to see that because they only focused on Simon being too gay or too Latino, or even just too carefree and enjoying life because he was young, to be their future king.
bonus content:
Iglesia de San Antonio de los Alemanes (where Simon goes to church)
“I think I need to go somewhere.”
“Oh?” Wilhelm said softly, “Right now?”
Simon hesitated before he nodded. “I need to- get some clarity? Or - I hope that I’ll get it there?” He whispered, voice shaky.
“Do you want to tell me where you’re going?”
“To- uh, to pray? I mean- to church? I don’t know if I’ll pray…” Simon’s voice was shaky, uncertainty shining in his eyes when he dared to look up at Wilhelm. (chapter 11)
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