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[obesesseddd]

Fvckkk

Marleyan Mirage

the ending we deserved

Mikasa had known Eren most of his life.

She was sure she was the only person left in the world who knew him the way she did.

And with such certainty, she knew he'd made up his mind as he stood at the opening of the tent, looking up at the starless night sky.

Whatever he was orchestrating, there wasn't a force on this earth that would talk him out of it.

So she did what she'd always done.

She watched him.

With an uncertain future looming ahead, she wanted to drink him up, swallow him whole and keep him safe.

But she'd settle with engraving him into her mind wanting to always remember him this way.

His long hair blowing with the soft summer breeze of this foreign land. His thoughtful stance as the weight of humanity rested comfortably on his young shoulders, a weight that had never let him stand tall.

Bitter tears stung her eyes at the unfairness of it all.

"Mikasa." he called for her without turning, sensing she was awake, knowing her as well as she did him.

Mikasa gently lifted Sasha's head from her lap and propped it up on a pillow before getting up.

She felt a wave of cool air as she stepped out of the tent, turning to face the sky like Eren was.

"What do you think?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"About what?" she said turning to him, entranced by the way the moon kissed his face.

"The devils that call us devils." he said with a dry chuckle, his voice sounded defeated.

The rage that had once burned brightly within him, like a fire that everybody wanted so desperately to put out, now seemed to be extinguished.

He turned to face her, his emerald eyes meeting hers, searching for a way out of this.

She couldn't find the right words to say. The words that would make him see all wasn't lost. That he'd always have her.

"Forget it. What is there to say?" he faced the sky again, "We see each other as devils and that'll be the destruction of us both." his tone so void of emotion it sent a shiver up her spine and struck fear in her heart.

"Eren, don't talk like that." she said sharply, anger lacing her own voice. "With the rumbling we still have-"

"Yes, you're right. We do." he cut her off, offering her a small smile that attempted to convey a confidence that didn't quite reach his heart.

She returned a hopeful smile of her own, the type she only reserved for Eren, eyes glimmering with the promise of a future he couldn't yet phantom but somehow she'd seen.

As if on cue, his eyes lit up, as the fire reignited in them.

"I'll figure it out." his voice rang with sincerity when he said this.

"I promise you that, Mikasa." his body now fully angled towards her as he reached a hand and took hers.

Casting down her stare, she watched as Eren interlocked their fingers.

She felt weightless and all she could think about was how his hand felt rough but warm against her own.

When their eyes met again his glimmered in the darkness and she realized something. The new light in them wasn't kindled by anger, it was hope, she didn't think she'd ever seen them shine that bright.

"I want to show you something." his voice was filled with an excitement she hadn't heard in years.

She nodded because what else could she say as her heart exploded for Eren.

That night, their hushed voices and spurts of laughter filled the night air throughout the camp. To locals they looked like any other young couple madly in love and hormone ridden as they slipped inside a tent. Had their friends been awake they would not have recognized the pair as they wondered around looking for an empty tent, hand in hand, and absolutely drunk on each other.

Absolutely alive.

The night lasted forever, both feeling the most free they'd ever felt in their lives. Their love for each other was transmitted with every word spoken and when everything had been said they turned to their hands and bodies.The patience finally paying off as they discovered all the different ways through which love could be felt.

Mikasa woke up abruptly to the impact of Sasha's arm falling heavily on her chest.

Where was she?

Where did he go?

Hange was somewhere close, yelling something, but Mikasa couldn't understand a word, her head was pounding.

She was back in the tent where they'd began last nights festivities.

But Eren, where was Eren?

Fragmented memories from last night came back to her at once, knocking the wind out of her for a second time that morning.

Had it really happened?

Had it been a dream?

She looked around the tent, her friends hungover faces were all around, but not the one she wanted to see the most.

Eren was nowhere to be found.

The next time she saw Eren other, more imperative, conversations were had and that night in Marley was swallowed by the war. Regardless of its nature, Mikasa buried the believed to be memory in her heart like a treasure.

She never got to ask Eren directly if that night in the tent had been a dream or even a booze induced hallucination.

The answer instead had come in the most unexpected way, as the best things in life usually do.

Mikasa sat under the shade of the tree.

Even now that the world had grown boundless and the walls had fallen, it was still the place she loved being most in.

Her sore back from working all morning was pressed against the tree trunk and her hands rested comfortably on her lap as she felt the breeze.

The wind pushed back her hair as her eyes watched the cloudless sky. She felt a gentle tug on her skirt, her eyes turning to meet the familiar emerald ones.

He smiled, gifting her torn shreds of grass as he released a fistful of them onto her palm.

"Thank you." she said closing her hand around the bits of grass as he flashed her the familiar smile that had always been home.

Mikasa watched as he waddle on his little toddler legs down the hill to keep picking at grass, laughing all the way down.

His childhood giggles the soundtrack of her days, forever her reminder of how real that night and Eren had been.

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Hange is very much appreciated 😌😌

Maybe the reason why Hange didn't have a backstory was because she had always been looking ahead towards the future.

From viewing Titans with eyes of curiosity and empathy in the pursuit of knowledge, treating them like they were humans even before learning the truth about them.

To laying the foundation for diplomacy and communication, seeing the value of building connections instead of tearing them down with hate and fear.

And entrusting that future to someone who carries the torch well, burning ever brighter which each step towards that vision of peace built on understanding.

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Shiiiiitt😩😩😭😭

My heart 💔

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““Aku tidak bisa mengatakan bahwa saat itu aku sudah mencintainya tapi kupikir aku sedang menuju kesana.””

—

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god the story between myeong yeo and eun tak is so beautiful

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my life is defined by the goat noise from the reply series

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14

What’s your romantic score?

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Daniel Handler, Why We Broke Up

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“I’m not athletic. I’m not a goth or a cheerleader. I’m not treasurer or co-captain. I’m not gay and out and proud. I’m not the kid from Sri Lanka, not a triplet, a prep, a drunk, a genius, a hippie, a Christian, a slut, not even on of those super-Jewish girls with a yarmulke gang wishing everyone a happy Sukkoth. I’m not anything, this is what I realized to Al crying with my hands dropping the petals but holding this too tight to let go. I like movies, everyone knows I do – I love them – but I will never be in charge of one because my ideas are stupid and wrong in my head. There’s nothing different about that, nothing fascinating, interesting, worth looking at. I have bad hair and stupid eyes. I have a body that’s nothing. I’m too fat and my mouth is idiotic ugly. My clothes are a joke, my jokes are desperate and complicated and nobody else laughs. I talk like a moron, I can’t say one thing to talk to people that makes them like me, I just babble and sputter like a drinking fountain broken. My mother hates me, I can’t please her. My dad never calls and then calls at the wrong time and sends big gifts or nothing, and all of it makes me scowl at him, and he named me Minerva. I talk shit about everybody and then sulk when they don’t call me, my friends fall away like I’ve dropped them out of an airplane, my ex-boyfriend thinks I’m Hitler when he sees me. I scratch at places on my body, I sweat everywhere, my arms, the way I clumsy around dropping things, my average grades and stupid interests, bad breath, pants tight in back, my neck too long or something. I’m sneaky and get caught, I’m snobby and faking it. I agree with liars, I say whatnot and think that’s some clever thing. I have to be watched when I cook so I don’t burn it down. I can’t run four blocks or fold a sweater. I make out like an imbecile, I fool around foolishly, I lost my virginity and couldn’t even do that right, agreeing to it and getting sad and annoying afterward, clinging to a boy everyone knows is a jerk bastard asshole prick, loving him like I’m fucking twelve and learning the whole of life from a smiley magazine. I love like a fool, like a Z-grade off-brand romantic comedy, a loon in too much makeup saying things in an awkward script to a handsome man with his own canceled comedy show. I’m not a romantic, I’m a half-wit. Only stupid people would think I’m smart. I’m not something anyone should know. I’m a lunatic wandering around for scraps, I’m like every single miserable moron I’ve scorned and pretended I didn’t recognize. I’m all of them, every last ugly thing in a bad last-minute costume. I’m not different, not at all, not different from any other speck of a thing. I’m a blemished blemish, a ruined ruin, a stained wreck so failed I can’t see what I used to be. I’m nothing, not a single thing. The only particle I had, the only tiny thing raising me up, is that I was Ed Slaterton’s girlfriend, loved by you for like ten secs, and who cares, so what, and not anymore so how embarrassing for me. How wrong to think I was anyone else, like thinking grass satins make you a beautiful view, like getting kissed makes you kissable, like feeling warm makes you coffee, like liking movies make you a director. How utterly incorrect to think it any other way, a box of crap is treasures, a boy smiling means it, a gentle moment is a life improved. It’s not, it isn’t, catastrophic to think so, a pudgy toddler in a living room dreaming of ballerinas, a girl in bed star-eyed over Never By Candlelight, a nut thinking she is loved following a stranger in the street. There is not a movie star walking by, is what I know now, don’t follow her thinking so, don’t be ridiculously wrong and dream of an eighty-ninth birthday party celebrating feebleminded smattering ignorance. It’s gone. She died a long time ago, is the real truth of what slayed me in my chest and head and hands forever. There are no stars in my life. When Al dropped me home, exhausted and raw, to climb out over the garage and realize it all over again crying alone, there weren’t even stars in the sky. The last of the matches was the only light, all I had, and then those, those you gave me, you bastard, those were dead and nothing too.”

— Why We Broke Up, Daniel Handler (via dollhhouse)

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~Something Small and Trivial-Ahn Do Hyeon~

Something small and trivial sometimes comes inside my body.

Like the prickly seeds of a cocklebur.

Or like Min Seok's fingers that slightly grazed my armpit.

Or like a toothache that troubled me every time I forgot about it.

Like the smell of jjajangmyeon that we ate after class.

Something small and trivial sometimes comes inside my body.

Something small and trivial doesn't even know my body is its prison

and comes inside my body to sometimes hug me intensely.

Kdrama: When the Weather is Fine

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one thing i love about the show so far is its storytelling is a process of accumulation, like scrapbooking. it’s not exactly about a linear progression, though of course there’s plenty of that, but about repetition, parallels, and just literal accrual as a way to create meaning. every time hye won looks out a window, every time a scene is captured from outside a window; all the streetlights; eun seob’s little sister riding her bike; hye won and eun seob covering each other up for warmth. 

more specific things: eun seob keeps giving hye won cups of coffee or tea to warm her up, and in ep4 we see his mother placing a cup of tea beside him as he sleeps. in this same episode hye won remarks how jealous she is of eun seob that he is so loved by his family. so the love eun seob receives from his family he gives to hye won. then we have back in ep2 hye won walking home from eun seob’s place, and he comes out with a flashlight to light her way home cause it’s dark. his flashlight first falls on her sneakers. then in ep4 eun seob leads hye won out of the dark forest *and* gets her new shoes. in the first ep we see hye won returning to her hometown, a lone figure walking up the dirt path. ep4 her mother, wearing sunglasses just like her aunt, repeats the same act.

another thing i love is how the narration pairs with the literal imagery. the little boy reads about winter coming into an owl’s home, and we’re given the water in hye won’s home frozen in pipes:

this particular sequence works double, cause not only is winter literally in her house, but in the last screencap above hye won is holding a letter her mother (who murdered her father) wrote to her aunt. in this same episode she says she feels like her family is like a freezer drawer. so the boy’s poem works literally and metaphorically, visually and verbally.

i also love how it plays around with memory. there’s the scene both hye won and eun seob remember from their high school days, when they passed by each other in the doorway and each thought the other didn’t notice/register them, but they each left an indelible impression on the other; and they repeat this physical interaction now as adults, even after he held her wrist to lead her out of the woods:

and then how things that happen in the present remind them of specific emotions they experienced in the past: hye won coming down the steps to find eun seob isn’t home, and it reminds her of when she was a kid and her mother left her home, the washer and rice cooker on, but her all alone. 

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Yes

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Humans are dumber than beasts. Why? They keep becoming stupid because they like something. Does that book say so? When they like something, they keep advancing forward even when they know they’ll die. How stupid.

Then, they can stop liking something. They can stop offering their hearts. They can give up on the happiness they’ll gain from liking something. Since happiness and misery are like two sides of the same coin. 

If you don’t become happy, you won’t become miserable either. If you don’t have something in the first place, you won’t lose it. You can disappear forever so that person will never see you.

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This sad boi makes my heart break😢

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“Sleet fell on the waters of Lake Hyecheon. The time they spent together as lovers last night melted away completely. Y thought of him, whom she left on the grass. How much longer will I have to wander along the edges of pain to kill off all the memories? If memories of love were sleet or a snowman lost in the wrong season, no regrets are needed. I just want them gone. Only disillusionment is left in the lonely grass. An old love crosses the river of oblivion. If only I could also cross this field of futility.”

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He was wrong

The Wolf’s Silver Eyelash

Once upon a time there lived a boy. People would hurt him all the time. Because he was innocent, people always deceived or betrayed him.

One day, he met a wolf on a mountain. Giving one of his eyelashes to the boy the wolf said, “Try looking at people through this silver eyelash of mine. It’ll make you see who they really are.” Sly monkeys, cunning foxes, mean pigs, and evil raccoons. The boy saw no real people in the world.

In the end, he decided to look for a place where real people lived.  

Did he find such a place?

No. He could not find anywhere where real people lived, so the boy eventually lived alone in loneliness and died.