#and i say heart connection bc the soul connection is donna and dick

[bluegarners]

the reason dickkory is so good TO ME is that they are both supremely sexualized characters and are very conventionally attractive, BUT they don't see each other that way and in fact have a HEART CONNECTION that ties them together and makes them bright lights in an otherwise dark existence and it is that LIGHT that draws them together and not how their bodies look to each other

[loveablehands]

** lesbian donna meta part #10058:

the whole terry / donna relationship is a mess, to the point where dick and donna are the exact. same. age. but at TERRY’S bachelor party someone goes ‘is the kid old enough for this’ about DICK. but no one goes ‘is donna old enough to have sex with and MARRY a 29 year old WITH A CHILD as a 19 year old). but this is donna’s response to her mother asking if donna is in love with terry, when donna asks, mere weeks before the wedding, if she and terry can get married.

she’s willing to give up her POWERS. but she’s not willing to say she loves the man she is going to spend the rest of her life with to her own mother.

this seems, to me, like proof of my theory that donna doesn’t want to live independently forever & alone without mortal men. she calls herself the mary tyler moore of the titans---she’s used to being maternal, she just assumed i suppose that she would never settle down as they all grouped up with each other. but she wants to be more than herself. she wants to be more than capable, strong, nice, maternal. she wants to love---even if she doesn’t. and she can’t give that chance up. she can’t give terry’s strong-but-not-too-strong, guiding, condescending hands up. he tells her who she is and who she can be, always beside him and seperate from him, always less than a man, always more nonsensical and WEIRD than human (though he’s perfectly happy to sexualize and objectify that in JOKES that are not really jokes)---but in a way he makes seem normal & sensible. she wants to fit into man’s world. she wants to be part of a couple, part of a team---but never the leader, never the heart & soul. she doesn’t just want to be donna troy, alone.

we see this a similar thing with this too with her search for her identity, her perpetual loneliness and willingness to connect when she shouldn’t, when she wants to feel something but can’t logically possibly---she does not REMEMBER her mother, she does not know her name. she was adopted very, very young, and then sold into slavery---but she’s so perfectly willing to forgive all that. she even calls her birth mother ‘momma’ at her gravesite---like a child would that had known their parent all their life. donna is more than willing to pretend to make herself feel better even when she’s sobbing bc she knows how useless & weird it all is.

donna wants to be a normal child and a normal girl really badly sometimes. she doesn’t feel like she fits in with the amazons---she doesn’t feel like she fits into man’s world. terry is a puzzle piece she can jam into her crevices and feel full and more even if it’s not quite right. he’s so good at making things make sense and making her feel small & delicate & girly, like all her cares don’t matter at all---like the only thing that matters is that he loves her. that’s love, right? not being able to give up the feeling of ‘this must be right’ ‘ i want this to be right’ ‘ i want to be married to a man and have kids and a human life like i was never given.’

it’s not who she is. but these wants---the perpetual loneliness within her, the need to NOT be the kindest most sensible one in the room bc she can really be quite spiteful, quite blunt, quite sarcastic and funny when she wants to be----it’s really a symptom of not knowing who she is and not being who she WANTS to be. bc she thinks she has to be perfect even tho she’s not. bc she thinks being perfect is the only way to be wonderful. she doesn’t let herself be human as she is. and when she is human and flawed---she doesn’t notice it, she tries to cover it up, she diminishes those flaws & feelings---until she’s made committments to people she can no longer rid herself of.

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

@myriadimagines x Maeve / Dick / Donna

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!!!! When your birthday comes around I never know what to say, because words can never express just how amazing you are and how much you mean to me, and everybody else who knows you!! You are such a treasure, you are so, so kind, so wise, and considerate, and beautiful inside and out. Your writing touches the soul, I don’t know how else to describe it. You’ve supported me through some of the worst parts of my life, sometimes without even knowing it, and I just wanted to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being yourself. You are such a wonderful, talented, sweet, genuine person, and I hope this year and the next chills out with the stress and brings you nothing but happiness. I’m going to stop before I get too sappy, but I love and appreciate you so much, and I’m so honoured to be able to call you my friend!!! 🌷🌷🎂🌷🌷

( + I galaxy-brained last night and thought ‘fuck it, I can’t decide, I’LL DO A LITTLE BIT OF ALL OF THEM!!’ bc I ship you with these three so much!! XD I haven’t watched the second season of Titans yet tho it’s not out on my Netflix aaAAA)

Maeve

“I don’t do boyfriends.”

The irony always brought a wry grin to her face. She’d been so busy building walls in the face of any male who tried his luck on her, she hadn’t noticed you sneaking up on her. No, sneaking wasn’t the right word. She just should have known better, especially hanging out with Otis and seeing how many varied relationships the school really contained. She couldn’t believe how thick she’d been. She smiled every time she spoke to you, for God’s sake, and it wasn’t a sarcastic smile, or a mocking one, it was a genuine smile, the one so few people saw, always hidden in her hair or bitten off before it could properly form. You saw it, almost every day.

She didn’t have to be anybody else around you, didn’t have to try to be better or worse than herself. You cared about her for her true self, and she didn’t know how to deal with that at first. You wormed your way past all her defenses and into her heart in the sweetest, most terrifying way possible. She held her breath when she first brought you to see her home, bit her fingernails almost to bits until you took her hand and told her that it had never mattered, not to you. You sat together for hours that night, talking about poetry, music, novels, history, anything that came to mind. You leaving at the end of the night was far more painful than she wanted to admit. The second she got the chance to go with you somewhere you could forget about the stresses of high school and life’s bullshit in general, she took it. A carnival just outside the city, the last day it was open. It was almost empty at the end of the day, and you two barely caught one of the last rides on the Ferris Wheel. You settled back in the seats, shoving candy floss into your mouths and trying to slow your breathing.

Maeve couldn’t help it. You were beaming, commenting on the unseasonable good weather, so beautiful she felt like she couldn’t breathe. The wind flung a strand of your hair across your face, and before you could move it, Maeve gently tucked it behind your ear. Your eyes met, and your hand lifted to touch hers. She looked for any sign that this wasn’t what you wanted before she leaned in all at once and kissed you, at the very top of the ride

Dick

He misjudged you heavily when you first met. Years later he’d laugh to himself about it. He thought you were soft and kind, and weak in the way most people were. He didn’t realize that kindness was your backbone. The first time you had teased back at one of his remarks, a shocked grin had found his face and he’d looked at you with a new light. Bantering with you quickly became one of his favourite things, even if you were “a pain in his ass”, said with utmost affection.

You were a good influence on him. He thought the violence inside him would snuff out any bit kindness that flickered to life - it always had. But you nurtured that kindness, expected it from him. He was... better, around you. You brought out the goodness in everybody you met, and he was no exception. He found himself making excuses to hang out with you, to walk you home, get a drink, schedule a ‘totally not a date’ date that you both showed up to several minutes late, after freaking out about what was going to happen and having to calm down and get advice from an exasperated friend. You bumped into each other at the doors of the restaurant, and he had to catch you before you both fell into a heap. It was awkward, but endearingly so. Neither of you knew how to navigate whatever it was growing between you, but somehow it didn’t matter. He had never met somebody like you before, somebody who could affect him without even trying, and he was going to figure out why.

He figured it out very quickly once you grabbed his hand to avoid spilling his coffee on you and he felt his heart skip a beat and a blush - a blush - crawl up the back of his neck. Great. Just what he needed. To be in l... no, no, he wasn’t. He could fight this.

Spoiler alert: no, he could not. He gave in one night and kissed your cheek, had about five seconds to silently panic in a way he hadn’t panicked in a long time, before you saw his eyes flash to your lips, gave in to your own emotions, and kissed him. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so awkward anymore... but the endearment stayed.

Donna

You two both have a bad habit of staring at one another when the other isn’t looking and thinking ‘how did I get this lucky?’ You never understood why Donna chose you, and Donna never understood why you chose her. Because it wasn’t a choice. You two had a connection the moment you first laid eyes on each other. The feelings developed in a soft, slow way. Nothing rushed, even if it was inevitable. Friends, to best friends, lingering in that grey state between that and something deeper for quite a while. Somehow it never bothered you. Donna knew you like nobody else did; she always seemed to get you. Even when you struggled to put things into words, she understood. You didn’t agree about everything, of course, but even in your disagreements you found some common ground.

She was your most attentive listener, dropping everything with a smile if you wanted to run a piece of writing by her. She told you she could listen to you read your work to her for hours, and she meant every word. Your voice gave out before she did. She was always so proud and happy with how she coaxed you out of your shell, overjoyed that it meant you could be open with her about your words and the things you loved. She would wind loose braids into your hair, take one of your hands and play with your fingers or drop a trail of light kisses across you knuckles while your attention was elsewhere. You never felt safer or more heard than when you were with her.

Lazy mornings were kind of your thing. Donna was punctual when she had to be, but any time she could get away with staying curled up with her girlfriend pressing kisses all over her cute face and talking about that new show on Netflix, she could and would get away with it.

Your first kiss was nothing spectacular. After an almost-date, collapsing down onto her bed to find something to watch or read as the routine went, but you couldn’t seem to look away from each other. The kiss was soft, and sweet, and so filled with love it almost made you cry. After, cuddled up with her while she played with you hair and you slowly dozed off, you did cry. She must have noticed, because she rested her lips against the top of your head and hugged you even closer.