#how does a moment last forever

[brb-on-a-quest]

It is a truth universally acknowledged at 1:25 is 30 minutes til I go home (excitedly, affectionate) but 1:35 is also 30 minutes til I go home (derogatory, full of pain).

[delightful-mirth]

[mermaidinthecity]

How Does A Moment Last Forever by Céline Dion

[aili-chan]

How does a moment last forever (Finnish fandub)

[braceletofteeth]

If you want to be happy, I hope it comes true.

I hope you will be happy too.

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 4 :)

[taegularities]

gosh. the terribly poetic and heartbreaking nature of love that doesn't work out not because two people don't love each other, but because the world won't let them love each other. love that runs deep, but just won't work out the way one wants to. having external issues break what might be meant to be otherwise is truly pain on a whole different level.

[batbobsession]

Because this scene brings me pure joy, I re-uploaded this fic with better gifs. The first edition still had pictures obviously taken in a theatre.

Deserves a refurbishing, I think.

BatB Finale - Oneshot

Maurice never dreamed that he would end up in a place like this.

In a way, he was responsible for the scene that was laid out in front of him.  After all, he had foolishly discovered the castle and gotten kidnapped by the Beast, prompting Belle to take his place in the Beast’s horrible castle.  He could still hardly believe that the prince Belle danced with was—no, had been—the terrifying creature that locked him away for picking a flower.

He barely recognized it now, the castle, the staff, all gleaming sunlight and cascading roses, walls and windows clear and bright, couples dancing like they hadn’t done it in years.  His daughter, his fearless beauty, all dressed up in a white gown dyed and embroidered with those same red roses.  The prince, Adam, wearing a shade of blue that matched his eyes perfectly, the color of the sky, of relief, of beautiful days still waiting to be lived.

He had only struggled to paint a couple that beautiful one other time, and that was before he even moved to the village.  Before they knew about the castle, and magic, and beasts.  Before the love of his life was taken from him.

He had plenty of chances to feel envious, not just of his daughter, but of everyone else here.  The footman and the maid, for example, done up in gold and feather-white; the way they stared into each other’s eyes was something private, something only they could truly understand, but in a way, he saw it in the eyes of every couple in the room. Their love was young, like they were, yet much older than Belle and Adam’s love.  Boundless, yet unique.

Or the older couple in the corner, not dancing but singing, playing, adding more to the scene before him than he could ever hope to.  A painting couldn’t capture music, only memories of it, but he could still catch those glances full of life, love, and wonder that they exchanged between each chord.  Like they still couldn’t believe that the darkness had cleared even though they were creating their own, wonderful light with every look.  Maurice knew what that felt like; he had lived it.

Even Monsieur Jean, the potter, whom Maurice had spoken to very little before, now danced with his wife and son with a smile that completely changed the way he looked.  They were the perfect picture of a family reunited. Something Maurice could never have.

Yes, there were plenty of chances to feel envious.  But he never did, not once.  He was old, and he had lived his life.  Now it was their turn.  He was the one that would try to make something to look back on, to remember.

It was then that he glimpsed Monsieur Jean’s wife break away from the dancing and look around at all of the people gathered, her motherly gaze resting on the couple in the center of the ballroom.  Then she turned around and for a split second, their eyes met.  Something seemed to pass between them—an understanding, an acceptance.  Maurice smiled and dipped his head once.  He understood.  His song had ended, his time had passed; what would happen next was in their hands, their lives, their

love.

Maurice kept that smile as he turned to add the finishing touches.  After all, wasn’t love something to hold on to?  Wasn’t it what made the most precious of moments live on?

He would make this moment last forever, because it wasn’t just the end of an era, but a new beginning. One that would spark new ideas and changes, one that would live on and on until even time itself became familiar with its color and tune.  

A tale as old as time…yes.  

Yes, that sounded about right.

[chilapis]

I think every moment is eternal in its own right and we hold no authority to deny it that status. Even if it is a forever that will escape our memories, it’ll still exist as a forever in the history of time. In the memories of no-one but the Earth itself. In the records kept and made by no-one, where everything is stored for all time to come. No love is lost and no existence truly unacknowledged.

[sillypilled-friendcel]

if something someone you live with does bothers you, you can use your big boy words and talk to them 🙏 except you apparently only know how to throw tantrums when you don't get your way so whatever. honestly the more pissy he gets about the dishwasher the more i avoid it, so suffice to say when he opened the dishwasher before leaving i did my due diligence and closed it 🥰

[quietwingsinthesky]

sometimes i think about my spn oc and how i rewrote everything about amara to interact with the story i was trying to tell about her. there were some really neat ideas in that i need to recycle for something one day. like, in the show proper, they just let amara take over a human baby and that’s fine, but amara’s not Meant To Be Here. this entire universe is one constructed in her absence. saying she can possess a human body should be like saying if you took a person and sent them to a universe where 1+1=3, they could just figure out how to function within that.

which in story took the form of Amara being something that could not be Understood, only Rationalized. a force locked outside the narrative who could only get inside and destroy things if given a role within it. by the Winchesters as A Monster To Face. by Chuck as Wayward, Unreachable Sister. and by miss oc as. simultaneously a projected creature to be saved, an amalgamation of injustices done to herself (and others) that would never be righted but could be made up for by being a part of this. and as something impossibly powerful that could be both protection and purpose.

and the Darkness wasn’t any of those things, really, but to have agency in her own story required new shackles, but ones she was always straining against. she wouldn’t fit inside the confines of a human mind, let alone a body, at least not well enough to leave it Intact. like lucifer burning through nick, but Worse. because the burns were an expected outcome of skin not strong enough to hold him. humans were built for angels, some were built better and some worse, but they’re meant to work. putting amara in human skin should disconnect the skin and mind and soul from the reality her brother built itself, i think. slowly. bit by bit.

and at the same time, i’d gone and written the kind of wild scenario you really can only write for your thirteen year old mary sue, given that spn oc the part of herald/high priestess/failed vessel. which she pursued with wild abandon like that would fix anything wrong with her <3

in the end, running alongside the borrowed family theming of the original show was my own theme of “how much self-annihilation will you accept to make your point. are you accepting it, really. or are you seeking it.” not just physically, in letting something unmake the base components of what you are as it tries to fit inside you or in it constricting and suffocating itself beyond self-recognition to get inside in the first place, but, obviously, it’s supernatural, how much selfhood do you cede to your family. is it worth it.

it was interesting, if nothing else. let thirteen year old me cook. she had ideas.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

maybe bsol is that time jen tepper mentions when she was so upset about a review of a show of joe's that she broke a glass (&/or threw it out a window)

[deus-ex-mona]

happy white day, aiyuu!

[captainsjack]

listen jack and the doctor are narrative parallels but i don’t have the words to explain it right now