#do jokes ever truly die on tumblr?

[baltharino]

[pronouncingitwang]

.

[rayroseu]

!!! book 7 spoilers

content: general lilia vanrouge chibi animation, general lilia and baul zigvolt full sprite, knight of dawn full silouette, and princess malenoa full silouette (source: @alchemivich) (advisable you use a light theme tumblr bcs u might have problems viewing the silouettes lol)

THE MOMENT IVE BEEN WAITING FORRRR WAYAUDGAUDHSHGSHA general peepaw at his 300s cracking his spine 💕💕✨💕✨💕😍

AAAAHHH hes so tired from making sure the silver owls go extinct JSHAJJS also for always dealing with the Draconia's tantrums😭💥

ITS SO OVER-- ITS SO FUCKING OVER-- EVERYONE WILL DIE BY HIS HANDS-- ITS AN HONOUR TO BE KILLED WITH A FUCKING CLEAVER STONE TURNING TO A WHIP--

do YOU see the fricking flips hes doing on top of swinging a pure stone around??? GURL, THEY WERENT JOKING ABOUT HIS STRENGTH EVEN IF THOSE ARMS LOOKS AVERAGE 😭💥💥

I love his new expressions are more sinister than what we knew ✨✨✨

HIS ARMOUR LOOKS SO HEAVY OMG GRANPA ZIGVOLT WEAPON REVEAL WHEN⁉️⁉️⁉️🙏🙏 🥺🥺🥺✨✨ I WANNA SEE HIM WHACK AN OPPONENT WITH A HUGE AXE---🛐🛐

his cape is too long Jbdjaa I cant make up his form too much AAA😭✨ I'm very interested for more lore about him thoughh-- 😳✨ knight of dawn... pls be a good and likeable guy lol

.

ALSO ALSOOO!!!!! THE MOST MAGNIFICENT FOR THE LAST✨✨✨🛐🛐🌹🌹😍😍

MOTHER IN LAW??????? PRINCESS MALENOA???? OHMYGOD I WAS WRECKED JUST BY THE SIGHT OF HER STAFF AND POSSIBLE ARMOUREDCAPE AND THE CAPE *HAS* VERY INTRICATE LACING??? QUEEN. 🛐🛐🛐😍😍✨✨✨ ALSO !!!! DRAGON TAIL LETSGOOOO!!!🙏🙏🙏💕💖💕💖‼️‼️‼️‼️

the way i gasped and she is so exuding of power and elegance ✨💕✨💕

everyone go home this is the best character design ever

WHERES HER SSR CARD I'D SACRIFICE MY MALLEUS SAVINGS JUST FOR HER HIGHNESS 💕🙏💖💖

*malleyuu insert* man, imagine introducing yourself as her son's bf/gf 😂😂💥💥 we're truly that meme where it goes -> the guy you like, his mother, his father, etc etc 😂😂💥💥‼️

HER FREAKING STANCE-- I CANT GET OVER IT ITS SO EFFORTLESSLY AUTHORITATIVE!!! Prince Levan scored a baddie holy freaking gosh--

Now, I really believe theyll release an actual sprite for Princess Malenoa ✨✨ She looks too detailed to just end it like this lol

[borderlinebelle]

Tumblr Live: it’s not that serious. By BorderlineBelle

Literally I met mutuals of 10+ years on tumblr live.

The hatred over tumblr live was over the top and insane… it truly wasn’t that serious.

If you can stand to be thought critiqued, stay. 🙂

Yes, they robbed us of all our personal info, that’s our choice. Basically.. that’s every single app ever. Wake up. Everyone is just choosing their daddy to participate in this society, which exists ONLINE in equal measure.

Ya’ll bend over to SOME cloud daddy collection somewhere.. unless all your family photos hit printer ink 🫨 why is this the hill you were willing to die on?

Tumblr Live was good.

People hung out, did hobbies, met mutuals, discussed old and new tumblr, made new friends, shared art and music and passion and hobbies…

Before the flood of MeetMe folks… (which was awful. as an OG… I get it) .. it was a chill place to hang out.

The active and consistent and LOUD trolls made it so negative and latched on and like the USUAL TUMBLR PIRANHAS… wouldn’t let it GO.

You made a hashtag and shopped it day and night. Like why???

#TurnOffTumblrLive … was wild.

I consider myself part of the few who supported EVERY FANDOM.. kinda 😅. I’ve been on tumblr for my whole life and before that and I try to be a GOOD community member!

I wasn’t actively working for every fandom 😅 but if it was a high holy holiday of your fandom or a meme or a joke that was so popular it circulated into the main highways of tumblr… that needed spreading… I of course let it roll across my dashboard. I reblogged your top chosen artists and musicians, whomever your communities had chosen … we supported. I supported. As a bit of an outliner. A sad girl yadda yadda mentally ill and sexy… screaming into the void at the porn bots 🤷🏽‍♀️ it was a niche trust me… but I did and do participate with positivity even if I didn’t get the joke.

And … YOU ALL… BURIED AND KICKED AROUND tumblr live as if she was a DiLaurentis triplet. 🤧

It was way overboard imo. 🤧💅🏽

Some people used tumblr live for good. 👁️👁️

Then the REALLY determined trolls harassed the poor CEO guy and we ALL KNOW HE’s STRESSED. His hair is thinning. We can see it and ya’ll demand and do too much. i hope to one day sit with the man and say, “you’re doing mostly, kind of .. a fine job.” 👍🏽😬

Tumblr, in general, is one of the few places left on the interweb that maintains the primary basic deliciousness of self expression through the works of others. It remains from LONG AGO.

Don’t fucking ruin the overall umbrella of the tumblr space… with deep… leaving funny and entering disturbing… cynicism.

Remember the LISTEN to OTHER pov’s too. 🤷🏽‍♀️🙂

Real people exist behind the cameras.

That’s all.

I’m glad it’s gone too.

2024 tumblr is gonna be shmexy.

[kess-in-the-perthchimzone]

Reflections on 2023 in BL

I’ve been going back and forth on doing a deeper dive of my top scenes and shows and such in BL this year, but I don’t quite think I have the energy, so I finally settled on something like a gratitude list:

Back in March or so, over dinner @thirstkanaphan first told me about the magical world of BL. I admit I didn’t really think I’d like it. Apart from Skam, I’d never watched anything with subtitles. But she persisted, and in June sent me a incredibly detailed series of email recommendations — all of which I ignored, haha. She didn’t get me until she sent a screenshot of Pat and Pran standing on the rooftop (because as an avid fan of the Foxhole Court I have a LOT of rooftop feelings). From the moment I started Bad Buddy, though, I have been completely and utterly hooked on the world of Thai BL and I have been so grateful for our literal hundreds of texts a day, Thai food dates, and GMMTV slumber parties.

As I got to know BL, I really enjoyed a lot of new-to-me shows this year, including Bad Buddy, Until We Meet Again, Not Me, and Manner of Death. I remember joking, though, that I needed to find my true ride-or-die boys. Even so, I don’t think I expected to fall as in love with PerthChimon as I did.

And that is where most of my gratitude for the year lies:

- I’m thankful for Chopper, the best boy in the whole world, and Ben, who inspired me to write meta for the first time

- I’m so thankful for this little tumblr community we have — I’m terrified I’m missing someone but especially @gaiaxygang @naomi-obsessions @dramalets @lamonnaie @dramabiscuit @srnileforme for all our interactions throughout the year! Nothing will ever compare to Dangerous Romance Fridays, but it’s been fun finding new things to be excited about.

- Speaking of Dangerous Romance —I love this beautiful show and will forever cry about windmills and umbrellas. I’m grateful to have watched the love story unfold and that it returned my love of writing to me — not only for analysis but fiction!

- and I’m very thankful for @criticallyobs — not only the something like 2,500 of hours of listening but also the endless number of voice messages that always bring a smile to my face. Thanks for adopting the stray kitten that followed you home

This has truly been one of the most joyous fandoms of my life. Thanks for playing a part in my experience! I can’t wait to see what 2024 has in store 💛🖤

[chinchillamajor]

So, drawing from the whole multiverse of pregnant Simon AUs that've been popping (no pun intended) up on Tumblr as of late, @cottagedeer had the utterly galaxy-brained idea to roll D&D dice to determine how otherworldly any particular AU's Golbaby power levels would be.

I saw what Vanilla Simon (love that name for him!)'s roll ended up as, and all I could think was: "omg, it's my dice!!"

Nobody could have known this, of course, but. I've always been a ridiculously lucky person, with the asterisk that my luck comes from all directions. I'm as liable to inexplicably skip out on an imminent Bad End (no joke-- I've managed to cheat death four times, so far) as I am to find the one-in-a-billion bolt in my pint of ice cream (as my one missing tooth can attest). Things just seem to happen *louder* around me.

And back in 2019, when I was told I probably had cancer for the first time, I ran a medical-bills fundraiser based around a die designed to reflect precisely my own brand of luck.

They were made of solid rose quartz (a nod to my favorite show at the time, Steven Universe) and only had two roll results: an evenly divided number of 1s and 20s.

Of the hundred dice I had made for the fundraiser, I still have *one* left, that I kept.

Out of curiosity, I rolled it today.

...Going by the numbers, I guess it's a *good* thing this universe's spontaneous kiddo never made it to term, because... just my luck, my Golbaby score was a 20. (I rolled it two more times. 20, again. And a third 20. I couldn't stop giggling.)

And then, the thought hit me.

It's probably among the most self-indulgent thoughts I've ever had, but. Hear me out.

*Someone's* gotta help out all those other pregnant Simons, in all those other universes.

So, to anyone with pregnant Simon AUs: I offer myself, in a handy-dandy fiction suit, as "Star Simon," a sort of messenger to all those other Simons finding themselves expecting by surprise.

Star Simon's own Golbaby never made it far enough to be born (too powerful; they had to be nerfed out of having a physical form), but appears as a teeny winged sparkle that follows Star Simon around, and allows him to dimension hop to where and when other pregnant Simons need to see some kindness, most.

After an appearance in each AU Simon’s dreams, Star Simon then has an 'in' to that Simon’s reality, which he only uses to portal in the fluffiest, coziest blankets, the most soothing cups of decaf coffee, and/or pep talks/advice, if needed.

Even in realities with the worst Bad Ends imaginable, Star Simon appears, to offer that Simon the biggest hug he can, and to tell his alternate self, "You did the best you could, and I'm so proud of you. At least *one* of us will always remember that."

...

Feel free to use the idea, or not. No offense taken, believe me!

But either way, I see what y'all are doing. You're building something truly wonderful. ❤️

It's only natural a fellow Simon-alike would want to help out somehow, haha.

[dekusleftsock]

How shocked and how dramatic do you think the broader scope of mha consumers will be when toga doesn’t actually die? How they’re jumping the gun into thinking that she’s dead just due to a blood transfusion?

Imma be honest I am living in a bit of an echo chamber rn, there’s not all that much I really KNOW about their reactions.

For all I know, I feel like it’ll be an average Tuesday yk, kinda like when bakugou wasn’t ACTUALLY dead and people weren’t freaking out over it.

I have this like, image in my head sometimes. Ochako, Izuku, Katsuki, and Toga are standing on a hill in silence with a sunset background. There’s nothing said, no words spoken, but it’s always what I imagine the ending to this series. Do I think or want what I imagine to happen? Not really. I want toga and ochako to get a kiss, or at the very least I want bkdk to kiss bc it IS a slowburn.

But unfortunately what I’m personally most scared of is if izu//ocha just never become a thing and… bkdk + tgck are just implied. Because it’s not what I think will create genuine change. What will create change is a confirmation of one or both of them that, yes, these two same sex characters are lovers. And there’s no argument you can make, or theory you can write, or hc that can make this be anything than what it is: True queer representation.

Do I think toga not being dead will create uproar? Maybe some. Maybe in the distant annoying fans on Twitter who complain about “the 30 year old white women who like bkdk”, but do they really matter? They’re a loud minority sure, but most of them are just fucking wannabe edgelords that like making people angry or uneasy. They like a show, a reaction. That’s it. That’s all they ever want.

But what I want though? I want shonen jump’s merch to take a spike in sales for mha, I want people across the world confused and disoriented that this random anime has been trending for weeks on Twitter, I want tumblr to break itself and your dash to be filled with nothing but the fact that mha’s joke ships fucking won. Bkdk’s are REALLY easy to make fun of. A lot of them are teenagers, a lot of them are lgbt, and there’s a lot of them in general. They’re everywhere. Just like how in my state we call New Yorkers the “roaches of the east coast”, mha fans are kind of the roaches of anime fandoms. It would affect everyone, even people who could give less of a fuck about the manga.

(I mean that in the best way possible btw, I love that we’re everywhere and I can be connected to so many different types of people just bc mha is so big. WE THE ROACHES BABYYYYY)

What I mean by all of this is that, I want mha to be a silly footnote in queer history. There’s very few shows that get the opportunity to even be decently popular, much less as popular as mha. In my mind, mha has a chance to say “fuck you” to all of the misogynistic and homophobic people in the world personally. They came into mha to get a battle shonen, and they leave with the first large shonen manga with not one, but two queer love stories.

That doesn’t happen often, or ever. Horikoshi has the ability to make a name for himself as someone who mattered, or someone who became another cog in the machine. Thats what I think will truly create a reaction.

[crybabyddl]

Just finished my rewatch of jatp. My perfrct track record of not crying during Unsaid Emily remains untouched. I will say though, I was very close to shedding a tear this time. However, I didn’t even cry during Stand Tall! I always cry during Stand Tall!

Anyways, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the headcanons and theories that us tumblr fantoms created and the little easter eggs we discovered while watching and rewatching the series. It makes me really appreciative of the fact that we had a sense of community during a time where a lot of us were alone, scared, and uninspired. Just like Julie, I felt a renewed sense of purpose and hope. I think that a lot of people felt the same after watching the show. Julie and the Phantoms is what inspired me to learn the piano, the ukulele, and it led me to getting a guitar. When I learned how to play the chords for the soundtrack, I was playing those songs nonstop. It really helped me brave through the unsure feelings that came along with the pandemic. It made me forget my fears about the future.

I don’t feel as hopeful about things as I did back then, but JATP will always be a land-marking point in my life. It represents newfound joy, reignited passion, and abundant vivacity. As someone who loves and is extremely passionate about music, this silly little netflix show really hit me in the most sensitive places. And while I remember having a bout of serious depression after finishing the series, (along with intense rage that while I was dealing with my depression at its lowest point, the cast of jatp was living what felt like my dream) the lessons I learned from the show were far more significant. It literally brought music back into my life, no joke.

The friends I made because of JATP will always have a special place in my heart. A lot of them don’t use tumblr anymore, and I don’t use it nearly as much as I used to, but I’m still so grateful to have been introduced to such kind, accepting, and funny people. The stories, theories, headcanons, fanfictions, moodboards, inside jokes, memes, and fanart we created will always be remembered and cherished. I’m still pro-cheesecake, I’m still highly allergic to sleeves, and every time I see an unnecessary or fake zipper, I think of my fellow tumblr fantoms.

I don’t think I’ll ever truly “get over” Julie and the Phantoms. It was the first thing that truly resonated with my spirit as a new adult. I was 19 and had dropped out of college, feeling completely lost and like I had nothing going for me. Going into lockdown because of the pandemic didn’t help with any of that, and I was aimlessly, endlessly scrolling on social media, hoping to find meaning and purpose. And one day, my friend posted a clip on snapchat of what she was watching on netflix. The guy was cute and it looked like him and the girl he was next to had a nice connection so I asked what show it was. That’s how I discovered JATP, almost 2 weeks after its release. I also just have an unhealthy attachment to the show and the characters so I refuse to let this media that speaks to my soul die.

All that being said, we really deserved another season. I think it would cure me entirely, if I’m being honest. Even if it was just a little Christmas special where they decorate a tree and do those mini stories like filler episodes of a cartoon series. Hell, I’d settle for an animated JATP episode. I just think we all deserve it after what we’ve been through not only as a fandom, but as human beings. I will never forgive netflix for it’s terrible job at promoting, because they only failed when it came to this show specifically. They managed to keep every other show, even ones far less deserving of acclaim and attention, afloat during and after the pandemic. The only reason JATP managed to get anywhere was solely the cast, creators, and fans. Paul Becker was on fucking overdrive, churning out BTS videos WEEKLY. Fanfiction writers were bursting at the seams with multi-chapter series and one shots about every possible scenario. We got things trending on twitter during the two most chronically online years. Fanart was being shared like crazy, and we had the instagram fantoms so confused by the memes that they retaliated and claimed they were superior.

Meanwhile, tumblr was in its shadowbanning era, and fantoms were in the TRENCHES trying to get their content to reach beyond mutuals and taglists. We received barely any appreciation, except for when we trended on twitter asking to renew jatp and on tumblr for jatp appreciation week. Let’s not forget when we thought Owen had a secret tumblr and we all started accusing each other of being him. I will never forget when we all rallied to get Madi to 1 million followers because we didn’t want her to become overshadowed by the boys and all the attention they were getting. We all watched their instagram lives and I will always love the tumblr fantoms who made gifs of the cutest moments from those. Everyone saw me shamelessly simp over Charlie with facial hair wearing a santa onesie. We created a whole Carrie redemption arc out of thin air, we created origin stories for Rose and the Petal Pushers, and we forced the creators of JATP to give us the official last names of Reggie, Alex, and Flynn (This adventure SPECIFICALLY!!!) We were ruthless in our efforts to uncover their last names. We used breadcrumbs to make theories and speculations, only to end up begging in every comment section and dm inbox we could to get Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, and eventually—though much, much later—Flynn Taylor. We gave Willie more crop tops, we basically storyboarded a second season, complete with episode titles and songs! We uncovered the Sunset Curve EP using the grainiest photos in existence, we created a loose timeline surrounding everyone’s birthdays, deaths, and significant events. We orchestrated a fucking CONCERT TOUR for this band. Oh, and let’s not forget when Kenny and the boys went to Hawaii. That Hawaii trip was so eventful for the fantoms, you have no idea how serious I’m being unless you were there for it. That was something unlike anything else for so many reasons. There’s a lot more, but that’s the stuff that came to mind immediately.

[msperfectsheep-posts]

Okay Note here. CHARACTER ASK. i7 Torao, Haruka, and Nagi. Ouran High School Haruhi. Batman Jason. Anyone in persona you must talk about (I don't know anyone there). Did I miss someone? (You don't have to do all. I am mereky curious)

THANK YOU NOTE!!! I'm gonna put all of these beneath a cut just so I don't clog up people's dashes <3

Torao Mido: (IDOLiSH7)

Torao is the kind of character where you're like "literally why is he in the main cast when everyone else is a banger" and then you realize that his arc is just 4-5/6ths of the way into the story and you go Oh. Oh. I get it now. That's him. That said, I want to blast him with a fire hose.

Haruka Isumi: (IDOLiSH7)

Haruka was my discord pfp for several months and I think that says a lot already. I love him so much, he's like. so bulliable and he should be bullied. Dramatic ass teenager baby that dresses like an e-boy. I love him so much and every time he bleps (:P) in official art I want to Die. Prime blorbo material.

Nagi Rokuya: (IDOLiSH7)

I'll admit outright that, as someone who had Ouran High School Host Club change my brain chemistry forever when I was a child, and with i7 having a main character named Tamaki, I CONSTANTLY called Nagi "Tamaki" during the first season just because he was the silly blond weeb guy!! I was like holy shit there's two of them. And then I got to parts 3 and 4 and I was like Oh Holy Shit they're even more similar than I thought :'). Nagi is a BELOVED character of mine but it took a moment for me to grow into loving his character. I wish I saw more fan content of him because he fucking rocks, but he's also just on a different plane from a lot of the more popular characters and I get it. I love how everyone respects him as they should though. My king forever and ever.

Haruhi Fujioka: (Ouran High School Host Club)

SPEAKING OF OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB. Haruhi's arc in the anime and manga is a little different, and obviously the anime wasn't supposed to end where it did, but with the changes the director and writers made, I truly believe that it would be impossible for the animeverse to end the same way the mangaverse did. Anyways Haruhi is a really funny character because she's supposed to be the straightman in a lot of the jokes, but she's just as dramatic and silly as everyone else. And it's great. 10/10 protagonist, every time I think of her I think of that tumblr post about her with the big brown eyes and I go Yeah. yeah.

Jason Todd: (DC Comics; Batman)

(If you can't read that square, it says "SCOTT LOBDELL")

Jason was NOT my favorite DC character or even Robin for a long, long time. I only really got into his character when I started working on my fic, Beyond Imagination, and had to start analyzing what a younger Jason was like and how he would interact with the world in a modern day and age. All of the Batman characters get flanderized and mischaracterized by fanon and canon a lot, so it's hard to figure out what was generally agreed upon as canon unless you read yourself, but Jason's got a strong story and personality that really shined with his resurrection. I'd say it's one of the best uses of reviving a character thought to be dead, and every time I think about his death and like. both the in-universe and real life events that lead up to it, I get emotional. Great character that makes me deeply ill to think of from a meta-perspective.

Maya Amano: (Persona 2 Innocent Sin & Persona 2 Eternal Punishment)

Okay so. You may have noticed I tagged two Persona games for her and that's because, spoilers for Persona 2, the first Persona 2 (Innocent Sin) is a timeline that fails. The game with you resetting the timeline because you fucked up that badly, and the second Persona 2 (Eternal Punishment) is your second shot and doing things over. HOWEVER. Maya changes with the timelines because she was doomed to die with how things were set up in Innocent Sin, and fixing that to give the timeline a shot in Eternal Punishment changes her as a character. This bingo is more about Innocent Sin Maya, who is a 23 year old girlfailure reporter that makes me Deeply Deeply Ill. If you're ever curious, you can send me an ask and I'll talk about her more in depth because Persona 2 isn't the easiest game to play

Thank you for the ask!!!

[randombush3]

Bad Habit.

florence pugh x reader

summary: words that should’ve been said never were.

words: 4209

warnings: drinking, suicidal themes, major breakdown, disturbing topics

notes: OKAY. it was originally supposed to follow the song, but now it doesn’t. look out for the lyrics though. also this got really out of hand imo, it’s one of those fics where i never actually saw the end when i began it and therefore takes lots of twists and turns and may not make sense. you might have read it like twenty times. who knows!

based on steve lacy’s song Bad Habit

p.s. fuck tumblr’s editing interface.

“That will be my cab, Flo.” You swirl the dregs of your whiskey, noticing that though the bar is cold, the ice has melted. Have you really been here this long? You would never have realised if you hadn’t remembered to order a ride to the airport while washing your hands twenty minutes ago. Time is irrelevant with her.

She places a hand on your arm, wishing you’d meld together and stay forever. In this bar, forever. In her life, forever. If she were to truly believe that she’d be naive and stupid. You met filming, and, yeah, maybe you did become friendly but you’re always going to view her as a work friend; nothing more, nothing less. “Okay,” she says, voice deep and low and undeniably sexy to have directed at you. It isn’t fair. “This is it, right?”

You smile, lips pressed together and hiding the slight ache of your heart. “Right.” Work friend. Your characters were dating, not you two. You tilt your glass, toasting with what’s left of your diluted drink, “until we meet again.”

She laughs, but it rings out more melancholic than intended, hanging heavy in the air between two people who will most likely not end the night the way they’d both like to.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Until we meet again.”

Standing up to see you out, Flo envies the bartender because the smile you give him is more genuine than any you’ve given her. “Thank you,” you tell him. He fights a blush, finds your softness beautiful, charming. Flo would better describe you as the magnet that attracts every ounce of adoration in her body and takes it unknowingly and unwillingly. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too,” he replies, seemingly ignoring the five other customers — all old men with cash only and wives on the brink of divorcing them. Florence thinks he is about to hop over the green leather of the bartop and kiss you, because he certainly looks as if he will, but you’re lacing your fingers with hers and taking her with you outside before he can move an inch.

She feels special in that moment. More than she has ever felt.

“How come you’ve dragged me into the freezing air of wintertime Helsinki at one in the morning?” You giggle, pure tipsiness making your decisions for you. The woman in front of you recognises the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other, leaving her hand dead by her side in order to wrap your arms around your front. “I’m going to miss watching an underdressed Y/n L/n die a long, cold death while begging me for my jacket.”

“I haven’t asked for it yet.” She grins, taking it off anyway. “And I don’t want to take it, because I’m going to stop by my friend’s to grab my suitcases and then I’m off. Back home until the next adventure.” This jacket is old, it must be from skiing a few years ago, but her body has warmed it and it’s cosily swallowing you whole.

“Or the next torture. At least being forced to be near me is coming to an end,” she jokes, self-deprecating. You hate it when she says things like that, mainly because you’d watch her in awe whether she delivered an Oscar-worthy monologue or figured out a simple maths equation. Either would be something you’re convinced you’d never do, anyway. Wrapping the movie hit you both like a brick, because the sudden realisation that, if neither of you had the balls to say something tonight, nothing would ever come of the three months you spent frolicking in the snow, pretending to be in love with someone who made you feel an affection you were supposed to not feel in real life, pinches your cheeks and reddens them. Flo chalks it up to the snowflakes falling on your eyelashes, your collarbones, touching parts of you she can only dream about.

“No, c’mon. Nothing’s ever torture with you. I’ll love this film even if it turns out to be a disaster because we made it together and I could never hate something you put your heart and soul into.” You’re essentially saying you’d like to kiss her and fuck her and preferably marry her, but Florence has failed every subtext social test ever presented to her. It’s brave of you to reach out and grab her hand again once you’ve said that. She’s blushing and not hiding it, your heart is pounding. If you could visit the Wizard of Oz, you’d beg for courage and step closer, tell her how you really feel. “I—”

Whatever magical emotion revealed itself to you is instantly scared off by the harsh beeping of a fat old man’s horn. “Are you getting in?” The taxi driver rolls his window down, face sour and bored and sick of stupid people having stupid rom-com moments. “I’m allowed to leave if you’re not going to.”

After a pause, you let go of her hand. Of her. “Okay. Goodbye. Good luck for Oppenheimer, yeah? I’ll see you when I see you.” If Flo’s voice hadn’t slipped out of her and ran away to the circus, she’d have stopped you in your tracks and told you that goodbyes needn’t be said so soon because she’s convinced that she loves you (and she’s right to believe so).

She should kiss you: it’s her final chance and chances shouldn’t be wasted on people who are too scared to say something in case the other doesn’t feel the same. You wish you knew if she felt the same, but you haven’t got time to rebuild your earlier fortitude as the driver is threatening to creep away by slowly leaving the side of the pavement. She waves goodbye awkwardly, trying to seem funny at the very least, and turns her back once you’ve surpassed the ten metre mark.

Not kissing you has to be the biggest mistake she has ever made.

You’re at the airport, sitting in the business lounge alone because you can’t cry in front of all those people. The waitress asks if you’d like anything to drink, nervous, not wanting to startle her client. “Do you have whiskey?” You decided that the tears need wiping if you are to carry on with your life like she never happened.

Once you are comfortably in the air, the plane’s window becomes more interesting than any of the movies offered in Finnair’s business class. While it proves as little distraction from the events of seven hours ago, you ask yourself two million questions, most of them beginning with ‘why didn’t you’ and ending with internal outbursts of frustration. Being alone, your head quite literally in the clouds, is what you need to recover from three months of nights where neither of you wanted to go back to their own bed. Three months of giggling endlessly though the director has reminded you how easily replaced you are. Three months down the drain.

God, you miss her, but you’ll have to go on missing her. You’ve kid yourself she could ever reciprocate selfish desires.

—-

Seven months later, you feel as if you’ve only just landed from your flight home. (Not that LA is quite your home.) Summer is supposedly fun, or it appears so on your Instagram that is monitored closely by an old costar. While your mind can, at times, be distracted for a day or so, hers is constantly split in two. Like every other thing in her life is fighting for her attention but being battered down by the thought of a lost girl in a jacket that swallows her, waiting for words that will never come.

Occasionally, under the influence of too much tequila, you text her, shit like what you ate for dinner, how your parents’ dog is doing. Empty words from an empty brain. She ignores them because it doesn’t sound like you, not because she wants to (she would like to screenshot each one, frame it, and worship her shrine for the rest of her life, but that’s deranged — you make her feel deranged). Though most of your friends think you’re overreacting to delete her contact and unfollow her on everything, it’s somewhat therapeutic to return her radio silence. If the mighty Florence Pugh won’t give you time of day, why should you remain?

“I’m not doing it,” you tell them — your friends — when she’s brought up. “I’m not going to wait for someone I’m not good enough for. Why can’t that be okay?” Secretly, you fall asleep every night lost in a tornado of moments that could have been; everything that could have happened but didn’t still happens in your mind, filling in gaps where the cupping of your cheek led to kissing you, where the parts left unsaid were spoken and heard and listened to. Listened to by the right person, not a friend, not an unbothered sibling, not a stranger sitting next to you at the dentist with too much time before their appointment. Sometimes the tornado begins to materialise and you spend the night with trapped sobs finally tasting the air beyond your lungs. As the sobs rise up in your throat, you can feel the snow land on your nose, the bleak taste of Helsinki resting on the tip of your tongue, nothing but a vivid memory that disappears when you gasp to check if you’re really there. You never are. You seem to snap in half every time.

Every fucking time.

“It’s just press.” Your publicist doesn’t accept your statement as smoothly. “If you don’t do it, you’ll be blacklisted and I’ll be underpaid. You’re an actress, Y/n. Act.”

She keeps three books on her desk, each the size and shape of one Hunger Games book. You’ve always wanted to ask what they mean to her; does she thumb through them between meetings? “I want to hit you very hard with the largest of your Hunger Games books. The second one, right?” She nods. “Yeah. I’d use the second book.” Under her desk, she has her palm flat against the wood, searching for the emergency button desks in movies have. She’s never had to even think about using it before. “I’m not going to, of course. That would be preposterous.” You get up, smiling at her. “I’m not going to do that, just like I’m not going to do that stupid press tour, understand? Because if I do that press tour, hitting you with a book won’t seem ridiculous to me. She will drive me insane. She already is.”

Reluctantly, the executives allow you to skip the cast briefings on the basis that you do more interviews than you’d initially agreed to, overlooking the breach of contract. Considering Florence and you were in love for the whole movie, the original interview schedule had twenty interviews with her and your other cast members and four with her alone. Now you have fourteen with the woman your publicist went back to counselling for.

You realise you’ve been massively fucked over, because not only are you doing the press tour, you are doing majority of it with Flo.

“I’m going to slit my wrists in the bathtub if one more Marvel actor tries to talk to me.” Your friends have started to look increasingly more alarmed every time you open your mouth, but it’s their fault that they got you drunk. “Do you know that they’re like some,” you spill your beer from your gestures, “cult? If you hurt one of them, you hurt them all. I didn’t even fucking hurt one of them. I fucking… fucking loved one of them. Fuck, I love her now. You know? Love? Fuck that.”

A particularly kind-hearted member of your friend group removes your drink from your hand and pats your shoulder. But you continue, unwillingly to hold it in any longer. “I have a confession,” you slur, eyelids closing heavily before you force them open again. “I have a… I have a confession to make to you all.” The group are drunk, some as far gone as you. You’re not the favourite member, not the one everything is planned around. They’re your friends from an early movie you once played a supporting role in. Most of them are jealous of your success, most want to leech off it. All of them are tired of your bullshit. “I’m kinda mad I didn’t take a stab at it. We’d have had great sex.”

- - -

She wakes up alone again.

She’s not used to that just yet.

Not physically.

Going back to a man she once thought she loved was comforting for a while. A good six months. It was a good, long slap in the face too, like being in a car crash with your favourite person in the world; she was reminded that she didn’t say anything every time he kissed her, attempting to kiss the hesitation out of his girlfriend, and felt like the crash was beginning to drag. Sparingly, she waited for him to state the obvious (“this isn’t working out”), collect his shit, and leave.

And so, one month later, she still pats the unused side of her double bed to check if it’s cold. It’s not that she misses him. Florence Pugh dreams about being with you every time her eyes close, and has done so for ten months. From the minute she met you.

“Mama has interviews today,” she tells her Billie. She seems to be the only proper listener nowadays. Humans can talk back, voice their unwanted opinion, and recommend therapists who really helped them. Dogs can’t. “They’ve told me I’m with Y/n for one of them. Do you think she’s changed?”

If dogs could text, Flo would’ve texted Billie to say you haven’t. You look sadder, but so does she, and you look ever so slightly older. Your eyes don’t light up quite the way they used to.

Flo moves her hand away from yours when you get too close to her on the sofa they’ve had you sit on. You didn’t mean to inch towards the ruffles of her dress but if your home is sixty centimetres away, you wouldn’t run in the opposite direction. (You did once, remember how that made you feel?) “Our characters are beautifully in love,” you answer, smiling at the interviewer behind exhausted eyes. “The kind that is excruciatingly wonderful to witness, and even better to create. Falling in love with Florence was the best thing I have ever had to do.”

She wishes you meant it.

“Have you ever been in love like your characters? Was there something real woven into your portrayal?” For a moment, you think she’s caught onto the fact you did actually fall in love with Flo. It takes a second for your mind to repeat her words in different tones, deciphering what she meant by ‘something real’.

You pause. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

“I think that, in every movie ever created, there is a piece of reality, a base to build on, because stories are a way to explore what didn’t happen. For me, the love we filmed came before my experience of it. There’s something real in there, but it was the kind of seed that only gets planted in a script and made into a blockbuster. The way I love her is unrealistic.” The interviewer nods, smiling at the material you’ve given them. That’s the perfect quote for the headline.

It breaks Flo in a way that no one can describe.

“Unrealistic?” she quietly repeats once the interview is finished. It’s the last of the day. “Who?” You stay silent, though in your head you’ve professed your undying love to her five times over. “You weren’t with anyone when we filmed.”

You’re called away — thank god — because your car is here.

Flo wonders who stole your affection from beneath her feet, pulling out the rug and letting her fall on harsh reality. She decides she hates that person wholeheartedly. Maybe she even loathes them — they’ve taken her world from her.

“It was okay, I promise,” she later says to her stylist, Rebecca. Press junkets for Rebecca are like advent calendars for Flo. She is a stylist, and so Flo doesn’t blame her excitement, having become used to it over the last few years. Rebecca’s mission is to make Flo look irresistible to you (set by Flo’s unspoken desire that floats around the very much spoken angst-filled pining). “Apparently she was in love with someone, but it was ‘unrealistic’. She phrases things so…”

“Cryptically,” Rebecca offers, mundanely recycling that word from the last time her client (and friend) brought this up. “Ever thought it was you she meant?”

Jerking upright at the thought, Flo shakes her head; “there’s no way. Y/n doesn’t beat around the bush. She would’ve made a move ten months ago!”

“I think she was talking about you, maybe she was trying to tell you how she felt.”

“It doesn’t matter. It has to be too late to pursue her.”

You wouldn’t care if Flo and you started dating in fifty years. It would just be another fifty years of feeling lost in an expansive desert where love is like water.

“Why don’t you respond to the many willing women then? Just for sex. I’m sure they wouldn’t care.” Your friends don’t quite understand that you can’t do anything with anyone who isn’t her. You’d say her name, think of her face, her hair.

“Did you know she cut her hair?” You like it. She once told you that she’d chop it off after filming ended, and that she’d like you to cut it for her because she’s sure you’re a talented hairdresser. “She has that septum piercing you told me about, and she has a new tattoo. She’s changed so much since last year, and I feel like I’ve been frozen in time instead. That’s not fair… I feel like that’s not fair. That she gets to be so…” You recount previous conversations, “you guys think she loved me, don’t you? I think that, if she did love me — which she didn’t — then she’d have said something. She’s honest and blunt and not the kind of person to harbour feelings for someone and do nothing about them. Especially when it comes to love.”

“Y/n, you always act like you have one chance to do something.” Trying again and again doesn’t work for someone who exclusively does things she’s good at, and loses her passion at most setbacks. Resilience never seemed to find you when you were in need of it the most.

“I feel like, my whole life, I’ve been missing the boat,” you concede.

“Just get the next one.”

- - -

Like you warned your publicist, you are losing it. Things don’t seem to matter as much anymore, and if they do it’s because it has to do with her. Brushing your teeth is easier, actually, because what if she got close enough to smell your breath?

You feel taller, shorter, wider, narrower. You’re being stretched in every direction at every moment of the day, only contracting to your most painless self when Flo is beside you on a chair or a sofa, hand close to yours but not enough to touch it.

Most wonder if you actually eat, having not seen you holding any form of edible object during the whole three weeks. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep. At night you forgo convincing yourself to wait for a break that will never come, so you spend them staring at a working TV, not interested enough to turn it on.

By the time your last interview is finished, you haven’t slept in four days. Everyone is worried.

Flo corners you when you stumble away. She forgets her anxieties, her doubts, she doesn’t care if you hate her. “You’re not going back somewhere where you are alone.” She leaves you no other option, grabbing your wrist, pulling you to her car. You’d fight back if you weren’t feeling like every breath is your last. It feels nice to be defeated.

She drives you to a house you’ve never been to, telling you to get out of the car. Her fingers fumble for the keys in her pocket as she unlocks the door, pressing her hand on your back to get you inside.

“You’re a mess,” she murmurs, guiding you to her kitchen, sitting you down on one of the cream leather stools tucked under her island. You smile.

“I’ve been worse.”

She hates the way you say it. As if she doesn’t care about you. As if you think she despises you.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” You shrug. “I’m making you food.” She fills a glass with water from the filter in the fridge, placing it in front of you. A drop spills over the edge, rolls down towards the granite surface. You swipe your finger against the glass’s edge before the drop can touch it, drying it off on the fabric of your unreasonably expensive Versace suit. It fits looser than when you tried it on, but your stylist doesn’t like you enough to care.

The clang of her pans mocks the silence between the two of you. Her kitchen communicates more than you can, and it’s only when the smell of something good seeps through your barriers of believing you aren’t in need of sustenance that you speak again.

“I love you.”

Flo glances at you, breaking her concentration. “What?”

You rock back on the stool, enjoying the thrill of almost falling over but never quite hitting the floor. “I know you heard what I said. I love you.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, you don’t.” You scoff and she looks alarmed. Upset.

“I may not be in the best state of mind, Flo, but I’m pretty certain that I love you,” you tell her again, nodding your head. “I can even tell you the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

She fights back tears, because this is not how any of it was supposed to be. “You haven’t slept. You haven’t eaten. You don’t talk to people — you don’t talk to your friends. You have no right to sit there and tell me you love me when I know you don’t mean it. It’s mean.”

“I’m not being mean.” Your defence is penetrated by her eyes: mistrustful. She doesn’t trust you anymore, she doesn’t know what to believe and what to blame on your current insanity. “I’m telling you the truth, because I thought you would want to hear it. I thought you’d listen.” You stop before you tell her she is just like everyone else.

“That’s unfair.” You drink the water. “I’m not going to let you manipulate me like you’ve manipulated everyone else.”

“Why?” you ask, curious. “Do you think you’re different? You’ve rejected the idea that I am able to love you, clearly. That puts you on the same level as the rest of them, doesn’t it?”

To be honest, you weren’t expecting her to take you with her, after all that wasn’t said or done. When you said it, you didn’t want her to necessarily push you against the worktop and kiss you hard, but you’d assumed she would at least believe you. You’d rather shock her than make her sad.

But you’re making her cry.

You hate watching her cry. You want to swipe away the tears just as you cleared the droplet from the glass of water, but you find yourself stuck to the cream leather stool, only able to watch her. She wipes her face with the back of her palm, knuckles running over her soft skin, reddening it.

“You can’t love me, because I love you, and we’d destroy each other. It’s already destroying you.”

“Not being with you is destroying me.”

“I heard what you said to the woman who does your makeup. I’m destroying you, Y/n. This,” she gestures between you and her, voice breaking, “is destroying you.”

You shake your head. “I think about you all the time. I live for you,” you state firmly, standing up. As you move towards her she backs away. “Don’t you get it? You are my everything.”

Flo can’t be your everything, because she is one person and you need at least four. She knows you better than you think, she knows that you’re an addict, that you don’t like living with the feeling of not having anything. If you weren’t addicted to her, it would be alcohol or drugs or a simple thing like crocheting. You chase that intensity, bleeding it dry until it can give you nothing more.

“I don’t want to be your everything, Y/n.” It’s a lie. You can hear her regret, it drips off her words. “The food is ready. Eat it, and then leave.” She almost smashes the plate, but holds her anger in until she leaves the room.

Your, “I’m sorry. Wait a second,” gets stuck at the roof of your mouth, refusing to come down its hiding place. You find other words to say, but you don’t say them.

You bite your tongue, it’s your worst habit.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridlz @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @sophie-xox @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz

[windyhaven]

hi y'all! this is the first time I've posted writing just to tumblr like this, since it feels too short for ao3 but i still want to post it somewhere-

so anyways, here's a little semi-angsty rentheking bit for my fellow Skizz enjoyers :D

(inspired by other people's writing pointing out how similar this situation is to the red army. fueled by no one including skizz in those comparisons asdfhadskj)

-----

Something’s missing, was Ren’s concerning tragic thought of the day.

Something’s missing. No, someone.

It nagged him constantly as he went about his kingly buisness, especially thinking about his court. His team. His army.

He had his most trusted person, his second in command, in Bdubs, and now that he had so many on his team, it should be enough, right?

Someone’s missing.

He just… couldn’t figure out who.

Memories of Third Life still haunted him over a year later. For the most part, he remembered it as the fun, joking game that it was truly meant to be, but bits of it were far scarier and more dramatic in his mind, and bits of it were filled with more regret than he knew he would have ever had in the actual moment.

It was fading, but still there.

He couldn’t get rid of it- and he tried. He tried spending as much time thinking up quests and building and hanging out with Bdubs as he could, constantly reassuring himself that it was good enough, that he was good enough despite what he’d done.

The man wasn’t leaving his dreams alone, either.

The torn sleeves. The passionate words of loyalty. The dying screams of a soldier who’d stayed true to the very end, the punch to his gut as he realized he’d grossly underappreciated the sheer bravery of that man.

One of his own, the first to fully die for him, and the event went ignored. They hadn’t had a funeral, not a single moment of recognition for the poor guy, and the thought made Ren feel sick.

Looking at the list of his newly-appointed council, he vowed to himself never to let down such a strong ally again… if he even had someone like that here. The faded memories gave him little knowledge about that man, but he doubted he would ever have someone like that on a team with him again.

After what he'd done, he clearly didn't deserve it.

It was hard to trust anyone with the way things were going in the kingdom, so he’d have to test the court to make sure the were really going to stay loyal. Add that to the ever-growing list of burdens the king had to go through. The “priority quests,” the diamond thefts…

Could he trust anyone?

I shouldn’t have let him do that. I should’ve convinced him to stay back, or made sure someone went with him… or at least given him the respect he deserved.

All that laughter, that love, that loyalty… and he’d let it go to waste.

[afaramir]

hiiii denethor anon here!! wow you’re really IN IT now (denethorposting). not to add more fuel to your anger but last week i saw someone say they hated denethor. and i just realised god they don’t get him even on tumblr do they. since then i’ve been silently fuming in rage. anyway… i am very Very Intrigued by both your faramir-goes-to-rivendell-au and denethor-thorongil relationship (if you ever want to write another 800 words about this, i am here for it 👀) and this line “each of them sharpens himself upon the whetstone of the other…” fuck. fucking insane actually.

unfortunately i won’t be replying for several days (i’ve had to keep my phone in another room to keep myself from getting distracted) . my exams have started AND i’m going through some shit irl :( it’s alright tho i’ll have more Faramir and Denethor Hours soon <- chanting this constantly haha. but i am with you when denethorposting IN SPIRIT okay. oh and can we please please please have denethor december? 🙏 bye will be here soon after my exams (that will be after the 23rd march i’m afraid)

hiii denethor anon <333 i am SO sorry this is so late truly attempting to figure out how to write AND see my friends AND do things like clean my apartment and go to the grocery store while working The Job...it has eaten my life. and this week my regular coffee shop switched their hours bc i live in my old college town and they are on spring break and it has sent me directly to hell. the death of My Routine…i have coped by INCESSANTLY denethorposting on tumblr dot com. i am somehow EVEN MORE in it than i was when you sent this ask. i hope you enjoy me being truly crazyinsane whenever you get a chance to look at all those posts lol. would love 2 hear your thoughts on them. but ANYWAY as always it is so lovely to see you, i'm sorry things have been tough but truly with my whole heart i bestow upon you the strength of denethor's sixty-year psychic war (with none of the associated madness) to make it through. looking at the date i hope you are free now.

here is the mandated readmore because i have never met brevity in my whole life. u said write another 800 words and i took that as a challenge um this post is like 2000 words. well...back on my bullshit

i mean this with all the love and joy in my heart but i laughed so much. no my dear friend they do not get him on tumblr. they have not gotten him on tumblr from the beginning. if you have been spared the incessant tomato jokes i truly…[crying] I Wish I Were You So Bad. this guy doesnt even know about the tumblr denethor slander (POSITIVE) (YEARNING). its the trenches out here for real. i just live in my little bubble with me and you and like four other mutuals/Denethor Understanders and that is it.

speaking of denethor and the rivendell au. i miss the days when i was working on the faramir-in-gondor scenes. emotionally it felt like dying but i kind of knew what was going on. now i am in rivendell taking and failing this history of middle earth exam. and i am so very….the next time we see denethor for real is in return of the king. now girl…how will i survive another 80k words. i miss my boy my dear darling my tortured victim of the narrative. and according to the paragraph i just wrote faramir does too but is Refusing to admit it to himself<3

im also RIDICULOUSLY torn on how i want to resolve his arc. now just between you and me. and anyone who bothers to click that read more. I DONT WANT TO KILL HIM I WANT HIM TO LIVE. GOD I WANT HIM TO LIVE. I WILL WRITE YOU A THOUSAND HAPPY ENDINGS. except its not a happy ending its a you are not allowed to die you are forced to contend with your choices you must keep living ending. because he will always be tragic no matter what. but its ALSO a you can rest now you can be at peace son of gondor you have won your war. all you sacrificed has been worth it. you have given your all when that's what duty asked you for and it has been enough. and that makes my poor heart weep.

like on one hand the idea of resolving his storyline with faramir.......the opportunity for some kind of reconciliation, some kind of understanding between them...god. delicious. i know in my heart that faramir comes home and IS the lord that denethor once dreamed of being. not playing at it...he is high and lordly and gentle and the world bends around his will and he knows exactly what to bow to and when to stand his ground and his powers are honed to a keen edge that he uses with the utmost care and. AUGH. he walks into the citadel the IMAGE of his father. it makes me feel FERAL. and how would denethor react to that. man.

BUT ON THE OTHER HAND HOW DO I END THE STORY. like. LOL. do u know what i mean. likelihood of me being able to just have a triumphant coronation and tie it all up with a bow is soooo small. the narrative contortions i would have to go through. to have denethor accept that and still be in character. Girl....no thank u <3 so we havent worked THAT out yet. like how much of the madness and despair do i want to put into the narrative. We Shall See. IM not politically savvy enough to get real into the weeds with it all so im kind of rotating just. a beautiful set of reunions with the fellowship. eowyn and faramir get engaged. boromir and faramir see all their dreams of a gondor restored come true. we skate over the political minefield and deeply navigate the beginnings of denethor and faramir's relationship in this new world. and among it all, within it all, is hope, and a new dawn. and curtain.

i got distracted but re: we are in rivendell. it IS kind of fun to think about the themes and narratives. i am pushing my Let Faramir (And Denethor) Be Numenorean + Let Numenoreans Be Weird agendas so so sooo hard and i am having the time of my life with that specifically. birds follow him around and pick up the tunes he sings. he hears the voices of the people he loves in his head. he falls into a river and after having a breakdown about it promptly decides that The River Is Testing Him And He Has Passed. he gets to rivendell and INSTANTLY knows that there is someone Very Like Him Here (its elrond. the elrond-elros-faramir connection has me FROTHING at the mouth. faramir looks at elrond and sees his father and sees every statue of elros in minas tirith and Knows that this here is the son of earendil, gil-estel, his brightest north star. elrond looks at faramir and sees his brother, his dear dead doomed brother, and every numenorean descended from him and all their sins and all their glories and yet, kind as summer, sees beauty and knowledge and a strange quiet man who carries all the weight of his country on his shoulders and yet knows him, knows the legends; perhaps the blood of numenor is not yet spent in the south)

i just think that Every Elf that meets faramir along the way is like woah...hold up. there's something up with THIS guy! men ARENT supposed to do that! not anymore anyway! galadriel is Lowkey Threatened by him. and isnt that beautiful. woman who could be queen of the earth sees god's special chosen boy and goes hang on a minute. Fuck. i think they work out their shit by the time the company leaves lothlorien but like...just thinking about how faramir lowkey blamed her for boromir's death in rotk! idk how their dynamic is exaclty gonna manifest but there's definitely some sort of similar mindreader2mindreader tension!

AND. um the idea of faramir travelling with the fellowship discovering that maybe...well. he has never wanted to be a warrior but he has been honed into a blade anyway. by his father and by necessity. and perhaps for the first time in his life...outside of gondor he does not need to be all that. he can be mithrandir's pupil without censure he can be scholarly and witty and cunning - he is all these things, in gondor. but there he has to be them, and now he can discover that yes, this is what he wants to be. and he has never let his father and the expectations of his position STOP him but there is always a weight, there is always the knowledge that your actions are disapproved of, and being away from that for a while is i just think. really good for him. see above re: he comes home the image of his father in a gentler time. keep honking im sitting in my car crying about denethor ii twenty sixth steward of gondor.jpg (<- my greatest creation PLEASE click the link lol)

ALSO IM THRILLED YOU LIKED THAT WHETSTONE LINE LOL i kind of blacked out when i typed it on the page. i think truly the crazy thing about denethor and faramir is that they SHOULD understand each other. they know so much about each other and yet are so incompetent at actually putting it to any good use towards, you know, improving their relationship. faramir is incredibly emotionally intelligent AND can read minds AND has taken so many of what he probably views as denethor's worst traits and turned them to gentler uses. (im talking about his powers but im ALSO talking about that thing he does when he encounters frodo and sam where he plays woe is me my brother is dead and i miss him sooo much to get on their good sides. yes of course he misses boromir more than anything else in the world. no he is not above using it to his advantage. and we see the SAME THING when gandalf and pippin come to minas tirith. hey isn't it crazy that both of them use boromir as a. manipulation chip. even after he's dead. hey thats kind of fucked up actually!) and denethor is…well denethor is denethor. ok im mostly messing around and thought that sentence was funny. i think he Knows most everything that goes on in faramir's head and yet Wilfully Chooses to interpret it in the worst ways because its just soo....very I Thought I Raised You Better Than That/I Honed You To Be My Blade Stop Defying Me. and despite all that the Problem is that they understand each other right up until they don't. they know how THEY feel about each other (incredible love that they can only express in the worst ways/think they're expressing only to be spurned by the other) but cannot POSSIBLY imagine that the other feels the same way.

ive gone on for SO SO LONG ALREADY LOL but. what do i have to say about denethor and thorongil. not enough and too much all at once. they're so toxic and awful for each other they're MADE for each other they're beautiful narrative parallels they're homoerotic besties they're bitter rivals they're pawns in a proxy war they're locked at all times in a psychic psychosexual situationship. um the enemy of my enemy is kissing me with tongue. idk i have more symbolism and actual analysis especially of the denethor-ecthelion-thorongil Issue. but we are just getting into it. so i will start with the situations bc i have two angles for this. on one hand i do think it is very fun if they constantly homoerotically circle each other for years and years and never do a THING about it. like...this is a stitching up wounds wiping blood off each others faces battle couple/situationship situation that THEN turns into a ridiculously high functioning political rival partnership bent together over books long into the night catching each others eye in council meetings using their very real disdain for each other for Manipulation Purposes and getting uh. SO hot over it. like.....Do You Know What I Mean. just. truly unresolved sexual tension THROUGH THE ROOF. it DELIGHTS me. they are always putting themselves in situations. and then NOT making out about it. AND THEY CAN READ EACH OTHERS MINDS!! THE WHOLE TIME!! SO THEY KNOW EXACTLY HOW MUCH THEY WANT EACH OTHER AND STILL ARENT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT!!! like thats just really good. but on the other hand.......the idea of just an absolutely terrible beautiful toxic rivals with benefits codependent situationship. i hate you so much and you know what we DO need to make out about it. every time they fuck it is a power play and they are having SO much fun with it. they will both start arguments with each other (AND IN PUBLIC TOO) just so they can fight and make up. the mind reading...Oh You Know What I Mean. taylor swift voice we had this big white city all to ourselves we blocked the noise with the sound of i need you and for the first time i had something to lose! logically thorongil is not yet in his grubby ranger era but the idea of him being dirt smeared all the time and hanging out with prim proper polished denethor. in the fic (which does exist and DOES follow the second model) theres a scene where hes just chilling with his head in denethor's lap and denethor is actually rather delighted and devoting ALL of his copious braincells to pretending not to be. Man. well never say im not a slut for contrast. and now the rest of what i could say is simply straight up redacted for indecency so it is time for this post to be over. the last thing i have to say is that it absolutely ruins denethor's life forever when thorongil up and leaves. sometimes a situationship....anyway. MUCH LOVE TO YOU AS ALWAYS yes we will have denethor december i already have an url saved.

[jigensass]

Apparently my brain is not done talking about this movie and still had a lot more to say.

I was going to put this in Discord as a response but I deemed it more fitting for its own Tumblr post because it is a lot about why people are mad at Multiverse of Madness. Writing down all the evidence for me about people's justifications for despising this made me see the other side and agree that even though I said that yes, Wanda and Stephen were two sides to the same coin with their trauma, I think people wanted a happier ending.

Wanda was never treated kindly in the MCU, it was one tragedy after another for her. Losing Pietro in Age of Ultron, losing Vision, losing her kids, real or not. And for her to go out like that was truly heartbreaking. She was right about people perceiving her as the villain when she never was. It was kind of ironic when they revealed the truth about what Stephen did in Earth-838 and how the Illuminati covered up his choice and painted him to be a hero. And I'm not saying I praise the movie for letting Stephen get away with using the Darkhold. In all honesty the third movie should have all of his unspoken actions of questionable morality (basically every major choice he has made in every movie he has a major role in) go accounted for, especially if he does get to stand in front of the Vishanti when (and if) they decide to make him Sorcerer Supreme. Truth be told, this movie really should have been a Scarlet Witch solo film where she actually won and overcame her trauma either with Stephen's support or on her own. Because the other main complaint I saw that not only did Wanda get shafted, but Stephen did too because of Michael Waldron who was probably the root cause for why Loki Season 1 ended in disaster (did not watch Loki, but I saw what happened and that alone ruffled my feathers). Now that I think about it, Stephen and Wanda should have worked out their problems together because they rooted from literally the same source, but he got put into the role as 'protective dad who bottles up his trauma'. And what is worse about Wanda is that literally no one will know of her sacrifice of destroying every known Darkhold outside of Wong, Stephen, and America and she will only be known for the terror she caused.

No one really won, but just like with Infinity War, it was very clear who the favorites were. And it definitely wasn't Natasha, Tony, or Wanda. Because they were the ones who got screwed in their closure from the events of IW either by dying or suffering so much pain you become so traumatized you become delusional, obsessed, depressed, and then ya die.

Anything beyond this post is me shit posting don't take it seriously.

I'm saying it now Scott and Sam, if you ever see this post, this is what I want for the third movie, if the third movie is already in the works. Third time this long running joke about me predicting Doctor Strange movie plots is the charm, amirite?

1. Clea shows Stephen the true actions of his questionable decisions throughout every film and how she has had to clean up after his ass.

I speculate that Clea has been a thing in the MCU since No Way Home. The purple magic that closed the rips in space time? That was her cleaning up his goddamned mess.

2. The Vishanti in their physical forms. Heck, just give us weird caterpillar Agamatto.

3. Dormammu in his humanoid form and Umar. And make sure that Benedict Cumberbatch plays Dormammu again so in the final fight he's literally hitting himself and kicks his own ass with the science of judo.

4. Do not make Clea a damsel in distress. If she is going to be Stephen's new love interest, she better have that personality she has in the new comic where she takes no shit and openly announces she has 'warlord blood' in her veins and makes Stephen her bitch just like Fujiko Mine did with Lupin the Third. And set her on fire. I want her to save this reveal of her being Dormammu's niece for after the kiss so he can be shocked and question all of his life decisions that led him to this.

Too bad Stephen will never get the three way he secretly fantasized about with Clea and Wanda cause ya killed Wanda.

And once again. I. Am. Not. Making. This. Shit. Up.

5. Obviously we have to have another new supporting character like America Chavez. I request Billy Kaplan aka the gay Demiurge himself from one of the other universes. Too bad we can't have Damien Helstrom cause he already got his own Hulu series that everyone including myself, forgot about.

6. Make Stephen bisexual you goddamned cowards. It is written in the ancient texts that all magic users are bisexual. If you make Tony canonically bisexual in the comics with an orgy you can do it with Stephen. Make him confess his love for Wong or bring it Namor out of nowhere and let him have a mancrush on him.

And finally

7. More. Fucking. Tentacles.

[rahleeyah]

Okay, so. Sparked by Ed Balls day…

I know nothing about Tumblr history and lore outside of what I have learned from your blog. Truly nothing. So I want *you* to know the power you have here. I would 100% believe anything you made up in this regard. Honestly, even the real stuff (something about the election?) sounds kinda far-fetched and made up anyway, you know?

Anyway, happy Ed Balls day, Leah. Hope it’s the best one yet.

this is the funniest thing oh my god thank you so much for this. tumblr loves a holiday it must be said. neil banging out the tunes day. bruno mars looking at pete wentz day. ed balls day. we love a calendar. and we love our lore. there's something sort of unique about the way tumblr clings to and celebrates the past and still shares in jokes and memes from ten years ago; memes do not die here. do you love the color of the sky still crosses my dash. people still cracking my immortal jokes. just this past week i saw an in depth post about the bone stealing witch - who apparently didn't steal any bones she just collected them after they washed up from heavy rains??? i've been here a long time and i know the ancient texts and they all sound absolutely unhinged out of context, i can't imagine just like, catching a glimpse of a post referencing human pet guy and just going about your day.

oh god the election. ok i'm sorry but lemme just tell you about this real quick. on nov 5 2020 i went out on a date for the first time since covid started. it was a thursday. two days after the election but all the votes were still being tallied bc there were so many mail-ins. the count was in chaos - i'm sure you remember that part. i went out for drinks with a pretty girl and i came home to discover 1) there was a rumor that putin had resigned 2) castiel had confessed that he loved dean and was immediately shot straight into superhell (worse than regular hell, apparently) and 3) georgia went blue. tumblr was in a fucking uproar. the posts were so beautiful. i don't think you can understand really how much supernatural means to tumblr, even the people who've never seen a fucking episode, without having lived thru it. the next 48 hours (bc the election was officially called for biden on saturday the 7th) was the most chaotic time i've ever had on tumblr. we were all feral and truly alive for once.

ANYWAY back on topic - this delights me. i hope that you find this shit entertaining lmao

[bonemass07]

09/27/2022

My name is Ashton, im a 17 year old male from a small town in Ohio. Lately i have been having a hard time not killing myself and i feel lik i dont really truly have anyone to talk to about this stuff, so I've decided that I would start talking more on here. People in my real life know that i have tumblr but none of them know what it is and would have to do some deep ass diving to find it. So why not? Last night i got drunk, i havent gotten drunk on a school night in probably three years (excluding covid times when shit was all virtual) but last night i just really needed it. I think the only reason i havent killed myself yet is cause i have to pay off the new phone i got before i can go. As much as my mom treats me like shit im not gonna stick her with the 1600$ phone i bought and wouldnt have even had for a month. Anyway, i drank a bit of the crown i got for my brithday and smoked a good bit of weed and now i dont remember last night. But it felt so euphoric. I've missed getting crossed, but i guess thats what being with a manipulative, time engulfing, cold hearted girlfriend will do to you. And i know, that might sound fucked up, but this woman doesnt care that the alchohol and weed are bad for me, she just cares that shes not getting fucked up with me, but never actually wants to when the time comes. Thats off topic though. Today i woke up and had to take my brother to school before going to a doctors appointment. All day, all i could think about was coming home and getting fucked up again. I just got high though. It was nice having a day without her though, she makes me feel so shitty and anxious, i never know when her mood is gonna switch. Whether she'll say something mean and play it off as a joke. If shes gonna cry, get mad, or just ignore me when I talk to her about it. I would rather just avoid it. I cant leave her though, i dont know how, I hope one day i learn. But for now, im just tired and want to die. I dont know how to handle these emotions and im not sure i ever want to.

Well thats it for tonight, ill be back tomorrow. Goodnight guys ~Ashton 10:50pm

[reipasento]

📱 ,🖥 ,🎮 ?

Mun Meme Thingy

📱 — mobile or desktop version of tumblr?

PFFFFF who the hell would pick mobile... tumblr doesn't even function the way I want it to on desktop, so the mobile app is just a joke to me.

🖥 — favorite platform besides tumblr?

To rp? Tumblr all the way. But I am okay with threads on discord if it's just between 2 people. Anything else gets too chaotic too quickly. I've been in small rp discord groups before, but it always ended up being more of a chore than a thing I could enjoy, so I wouldn't really go for it again. I know there are forums to rp too, but the coding thing seems like too big of a hassle for me too, so I just stay here where it's easy and comfy...

🎮 — favorite video game(s)?

Ohhhhhh!!! (my taste in video games is utter trash)

Kimi Ga Shine/Your Turn To Die obviously because my brainrot about that game is constantly here since I played the first time in 2019. I just mainly am so attached to the game because the characters are way more than tropes and none of the main cast is truly just morally white or black, not even the protagonist herself.

I like Danganronpa and Persona too, but games like yttd made me even pickier if it's about character writing in those kinds of games- in a way you can say "yttd ruined me for other men" just that men, in this case, is... games lol. I also really like the tales of Series, Tales of Graces being my top favorite. (Hubert Oswell my Love)

Asides from just story-driven games where I appreciate the writing and all that stuff, I also love peaceful cute simulator games like Animal Crossing and Rune Factory/Story of Seasons! (Sims is also fun lol)

I used to be a huge Pokemon fan too, but lately not so much anymore- what I still do and always will love is Digimon though. Even if the games can be a hit or miss, but if anyone knew Digimon World for the PSX... that shit is legendary, still one of my top favorite games ever made.

I know this is getting too long already, but as long as Vocaloid is included, I also love rhythm games lol. Project Diva games and Project Sekai are so much fun and revisiting old songs I used to listen to and love makes me really nostalgic and happy! (Project Sekai also has rly gr8 writing for a rhythm game but I digress)

Sorry I'm passionate about my trash games