#the most romeo and juliet characters ever

[bram-stoners]

oh he was itching to hold his hand

[glossytoothpick]

Oh man I did a lot of these. Let’s see… I did, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Julis Caesar, and the Tempest, and I liked none of them.

I have the most beef with Hamlet tho, fuck Hamlet.

If I have to do another packet of over-analyzing every single scene in that book, I’m going to scream.

Hamlet (the protagonist) is VERY unlikeable. I don’t think I liked any character in that story other than like. Ophelia and Horatio. Horatio was a real one. But hey, at least we got the Lion King out of it.

[cherubimcore]

in another life

pairing: emperor caracalla x fem!reader

author's notes: so... i'm still in my brainrot era for caracalla and can't stop thinking about him, this is supposed to be a romeo and juliet based fanfic but i don't think that it's similar?? i tried, okay... also this is VERY occ for caracalla and there is probably some inconsistencies about ancient rome :)

warnings: character death

in the sprawling empire of rome, power was a fickle god, worshiped by many and feared by all. the twin emperors, caracalla and geta, ruled with an iron grip, their partnership fraught with rivalry and shadowed by whispers of rebellion. their reign was a delicate balance between ruthless control and the ever-looming threat of betrayal.

you arrived at the so-called capital of the world with your father, a king of a distant and prosperous kingdom that bordered this grandiose empire. rome had extended its hand in friendship to your land, offering an alliance that promised prosperity in exchange of the rich resources that they coveted. but beneath your father’s polished words and ceremonial offerings lay a darker purpose: he had aligned himself with the rebellious senators, promising aid in their scheme to assassinate the emperors.

as your father’s only child, you were raised to understand the intricacies of court politics. you were his crown jewel, the tool he wielded to charm, to negotiate, to manipulate. in the emperor’s court, you were not just his daughter—you were his weapon, his most valuable pawn in this dangerous game. raised to charm and manipulate, you knew your role well—to earn the emperors’ trust, particularly caracalla’s, and distract him long enough for your father’s plan to unfold.

your arrival was announced with all the pomp rome could muster. the imperial palace loomed above you, an oppressive monument to the power of the two brothers who sat on its throne. emperor caracalla and emperor geta greeted you in the grand atrium, their guards standing stiffly at attention.

geta spoke first, his smile cool and diplomatic. "we welcome you to rome. we hope this alliance will strengthen the bonds between our nations."

caracalla stood beside him, his gaze sharp and appraising as it rested on you. where geta greeted you and your father with the smooth diplomacy of a seasoned statesman, caracalla’s approach was raw, unfiltered.

"your daughter must be the jewel of your court," caracalla said, his eyes lingering on you. "tell me, princess, are you here to negotiate for your father or to keep us distracted with your beauty?"

his eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the noise of the palace faded into nothingness, a blush crept up your neck, but you met his gaze without flinching. "perhaps both, caesar. beauty has its uses, after all."

he smirked at your boldness, though something in his expression shifted—a flicker of interest, perhaps. it was the beginning of a dangerous dance, one you were unsure you could win.

your father laughed, the sound forced and hollow. "she is here to learn, caesar. to see the heart of the empire and to witness its greatness."

"and perhaps," geta interjected smoothly, "to see a future where our nations stand united."

the meeting was brief, a show for the gathered senators and nobles. but as you followed your father out of the hall, you felt caracalla’s gaze linger on you, heavy and unrelenting.

days turned to weeks, and you found yourself drawn into the web of roman politics and deeply intertwined with your father’s plan alongside the senate, your role in the plan was clear: earn caracalla’s trust, distract him, and keep him blind to the storm brewing around him. but the emperor was not an easy man to deceive.

caracalla was nothing like his brother. where geta was polished and calculating, but still easily manipulated by your father’s tactics and the promise of becoming more rich and powerful with the fake alliance, caracalla was unrestrained, he moved through the court like a lion in a cage waiting for an opening, a weakness to attack.

this was the man you had to win over.

but, despite your father’s warnings, you found yourself intrigued by him.

it all started the very next day.

the palace gardens were caracalla’s private sanctuary, a place rarely visited by anyone but the emperor himself. you had stumbled upon it by accident, your wandering taking you through a small, ivy-covered archway that led into the hidden oasis. the air smelled of blooming jasmine and freshly turned soil, and the sound of a trickling fountain filled the space.

you were admiring the garden when you heard a low voice behind you. “you’ve found my secret.”

startled, you turned to see caracalla standing just beyond the archway. he wasn’t wearing his usual armor or the heavy robes you saw him wearing the other day, but a simple tunic and sandals. the sight of him like this—relaxed, almost unguarded—caught you off guard.

“i didn’t mean to intrude,” you said quickly, scared of the outburst that you heard happening in the walls of the palace when emperor caracalla felt unease “i didn’t realize this was yours.”

he stepped forward, waving off your concern. “you don’t need to apologize.” his tone was light, but there was a faint amusement in his eyes.

you shifted awkwardly, unsure whether to leave or stay. “it’s… beautiful here. i wouldn’t have expected this from you.”

his lips curved into a small, sardonic smile. “because you think I’m incapable of appreciating beauty?”

“i think you spend so much time commanding armies, intimidating senators and watching fights in the colosseum that it’s hard to imagine you planting flowers,” you said boldly, surprising even yourself.

he chuckled—a low, warm sound that made your chest tighten. “fair. but even a tyrant needs a place to think.” he gestured for you to follow him deeper into the garden.

you hesitated, then complied, walking beside him as he led you to a stone bench beneath a towering olive tree. the fountain gurgled nearby, its water sparkling in the afternoon sun.

“you come here often?” you asked, glancing at him.

“when i can,” he admitted, sitting on the bench and gesturing for you to do the same. “this was my mother’s garden. she designed it herself.”

the mention of his mother softened his voice, and you sat down, intrigued by this side of him. “it’s lovely,” you said. “she must have been a remarkable woman.”

“she was,” he said quietly. for a moment, his usual bravado faded, leaving something raw and unguarded in its place. “she loved things that grew. said it was a reminder that life could flourish even in the harshest conditions.”

his words surprised you. this wasn’t the cruel emperor you had been warned about, the man whose name was spoken with fear and loathing in equal measure. this was someone else entirely—a son mourning his mother, a man seeking solace in a world that demanded so much from him, as a princess soon to be queen, you felt for him.

“i think she’d be proud of what you’ve done with it,” you said softly.

he glanced at you, his gaze searching. “and what about you, princess? what do you think?”

you hesitated, unsure if he was asking about the garden or himself. finally, you said, “i think there’s more to you than what people say.”

his expression shifted, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “and if i told you i don’t know how much of that man is left?”

you looked at him, truly looked at him, and saw not the monster your father had painted him to be but a man struggling beneath the weight of an empire. “then maybe you should spend more time here,” you said gently, gesturing to the garden. “it seems to bring out the best in you.”

he smiled then—a real smile, not the sardonic smirk or the calculated grin you had grown accustomed to. it was fleeting, but it made your heart skip all the same.

“perhaps you’re right,” he said, his voice soft.

the two of you sat there for a while, the silence between you warm and unspoken, the garden wrapping you in its quiet embrace. and for the first time, you wondered if you had misjudged him entirely.

as weeks turned into months, your encounters with caracalla became more frequent and intimate. he shared stories of his childhood, of the relentless pressure to prove himself, while you offered glimpses of your own struggles—carefully omitting your father’s true intentions.

one afternoon, during a rare moment of peace, caracalla pulled you aside, leading you to a hidden alcove in the palace. “i want to show you something,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

he revealed a small pendant, its surface engraved with intricate patterns. “my mother gave this to me when i was a boy,” he explained. “she said it would protect me.”

“it’s beautiful,” you said, studying the craftsmanship.

he hesitated, then pressed the pendant into your palm. “i want you to have it.”

your breath caught. “i can’t take this. it’s yours.”

“i trust you with it,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “and… i trust you.”

the weight of his words left you speechless, and as he closed your fingers around the pendant, you realized that your heart had betrayed you entirely and you felt the first stirrings of guilt for the betrayal you were complicit in.

days passed and you hadn’t heard from either emperor caracalla or emperor geta, not even your father, who was starting to feel unease.

“what if they found out?” he would repeat to you pretty much every night after another day passed without hearing a word from the twins “did we underestimate them somehow? did the senate underestimate them?”

a part of you wanted that to be true, that both of the emperors discovered your father and the senate’s plans, even if that would mean your death, even if you would have to stare at caracalla’s eyes after you had betrayed him, you could do that as long as he didn’t die.

but then the gilded invitation arrived in the early hours of the day, you were already awake, anxious about your father’s anxiety, so you were the only one in the house to pick them up from the praetorian guard, after thanking the man and closing the door, you admired the letter’s ornate edges and wax seal marking it as a token of the imperial court. you turned it over in your hands, noting the unfamiliar handwriting on one of the envelopes. unlike the formal script of past correspondences, this handwriting was bold and deliberate, almost impatient.

breaking the seal, you unfolded the parchment and read:

“to honor the customs of your homeland, a ball will be held tonight in the imperial palace. wear your finest attire. i will be waiting. – c.”

your breath hitched at the signature. not geta, whose name was synonymous with the empire's carefully curated diplomacy. no, this was unmistakably from caracalla. the thought of his hand crafting those words sent a strange thrill through you, though you quickly shook it off.

that evening, the palace was aglow with light, torches and lanterns casting a golden hue over the sprawling marble corridors. the distant hum of music grew louder as you approached the grand ballroom, your gown—a rich fabric from your homeland—whispering against the polished floor.

inside, nobles twirled in an elaborate dance, their laughter mingling with the music. the scent of spiced wine and fresh flowers filled the air. yet, despite the overwhelming splendor, you felt his presence before you saw him.

caracalla stood near the far end of the ballroom, his dark attire contrasting starkly with the vibrant colors of the guests. his gaze swept the room until it found you, and once it did, it remained fixed, unwavering.

you hesitated, your heart racing. you could feel the weight of his attention as he made his way through the crowd, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

“princess,” he greeted when he finally reached you, his voice low and rich.

“caesar,” you replied, curtsying slightly.

“you wear the traditions of your homeland well,” he said, his eyes tracing the intricate embroidery of your gown before returning to meet your gaze. “the room pales in comparison.”

heat rose to your cheeks, and you struggled to maintain your composure. “flattery is unbecoming of an emperor.”

he smirked, leaning in slightly. “then perhaps i’ll save it for when we’re alone.”

before you could respond, he extended his hand. “dance with me.”

you glanced around, noting the curious stares of the other guests, but you knew refusing would only draw more attention. reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, and he led you to the center of the ballroom.

the music shifted to a slower tempo as he pulled you into the first steps of the dance. his hand settled firmly on your waist, his other holding yours with surprising gentleness.

“you look uneasy,” he observed, his tone teasing but not unkind.

“i’m dancing with the emperor,” you replied, forcing a small smile. “should i not be?”

“perhaps,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. “but I’d prefer if you didn’t look so ready to flee.”

his words struck too close to the truth, and you averted your gaze, focusing instead on the rhythm of your steps. yet, even as you tried to maintain distance, his presence was overwhelming, his gaze drawing you back to him.

“you intrigue me,” he admitted softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“why?” the word escaped before you could stop it.

“because you’re different,” he said simply. “you don’t fawn or flatter. you look at me like…” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “like i’m human.”

for a moment, the mask he wore—the ruthless emperor, the conqueror—seemed to crack, revealing something more vulnerable beneath. it unsettled you, yet it also drew you in.

the music slowed, and the dancers around you began to disperse, but caracalla didn’t let go. instead, he guided you toward a quieter corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of the court.

“why do you do that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“do what?”

“look at me like…” you faltered, unsure how to articulate the intensity of his gaze.

“like you’re the only one here?” he finished for you, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

you nodded, your breath catching as he took a step closer.

“because you are,” he said, his voice soft yet resolute.

before you could process his words, he leaned in, his hand rising to cup your cheek. the kiss was slow, deliberate, and completely disarming. for a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the warmth of his lips and the steady pressure of his hand on your back.

but as the reality of what was happening sank in, panic gripped you. you broke away abruptly, your breathing uneven as you stepped back.

“i… i can’t,” you stammered, your voice trembling.

his expression didn’t falter. instead, a faint smile tugged at his lips, as though he had expected your reaction. “it’s all right,” he said gently. “i’ll wait.”

his confidence unnerved you, and before you could say anything more, you turned and fled, your heart racing as you slipped into the shadows of the palace halls.

even as you disappeared into the night, even after you went to your room, changed clothes and tried your best to forget what happened his words lingered in your mind as well as his lips against yours.

unbeknownst to you and caracalla, the senators had finalized their plans the night of the ball. your father’s role was to provide soldiers to infiltrate the palace under the cover of night, but he himself also wanted to be present to see the emperors being eliminated in a swift, coordinated attack by his men.

later that night doubt began to creep into your mind. caracalla, for all his flaws, had shown you a side of himself that few others had seen. his ferocity masked a profound loneliness, a desire to be understood that resonated deeply with you, besides you couldn’t deny to yourself anymore you were actually falling in love with him.

after twisting and turning in your bed, feeling the pendant he gave you as a gift weighing more and more as the hours passed you decided to confront your father.

"are you sure this is the only way?" you asked, your voice trembling

he turned to you while putting his armor, his expression hard. "do not forget your duty, my daughter. rome is a beast that devours all in its path. if we don’t strike first, it will destroy us."

you wanted to believe him. you wanted to convince yourself that caracalla was nothing more than a tyrant, that his death would save your people. but the thought of his blood on your hands made your chest tighten with a pain you couldn’t explain.

so when your father turned around to leave the house and meet with his soldiers and the senate one last time before killing the man you so loved, you made a decision on the spot.

the halls of the palace were dark and eerily silent, save for the soft rustle of your hurried steps. the chill of the night bit at your skin as you clutched your cloak tightly, the pendant caracalla had given you swinging against your chest with every movement.

you shouldn’t have been here. you shouldn’t have left your chambers, defying your father’s orders and the pact he had made with the senate. but the thought of caracalla lying dead, betrayed by those closest to him, made it impossible to stay away.

when you reached his quarters, you hesitated for a moment before pushing the heavy doors open.

caracalla stood by the window, his figure outlined by the pale moonlight. he turned at the sound, his expression softening when he saw you. but his brow furrowed when he noticed the fear etched across your face.

“princess,” he said, his voice low, laced with concern. “what’s wrong?”

“they’re coming for you,” you said, your voice trembling. “my father… the senate… they’ve sent soldiers to kill you and your brother.”

he stared at you, his face unreadable. “you shouldn’t be here,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “if they find you with me—”

“i don’t care!” you interrupted, stepping closer. “i couldn’t let you die without warning you. without trying to save you.”

his jaw tightened, but before he could respond, the sound of boots echoed in the corridor outside. the soldiers had arrived.

caracalla moved to draw his sword, but you grabbed his arm. “no,” you said desperately. “you can’t fight them all. you’ll die.”

“and what would you have me do?” he asked, his voice heavy with resignation. “run? hide? i am caesar. if i must die, i will die standing.”

the doors burst open before you could respond, and a group of soldiers flooded into the room, their swords drawn. at their head stood a centurion, his gaze cold and unwavering as he pointed his blade at caracalla.

“step aside, princess,” the centurion commanded. “this is not your fight.”

you moved in front of caracalla, spreading your arms wide. “if you want to kill him,” you said, your voice steady despite the terror coursing through you, “you’ll have to kill me first.”

“don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the centurion said, his tone almost pleading. “step aside. this is justice.”

“justice?” you spat. “this is treachery. and i won’t be a part of it.”

the soldiers hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances. but the centurion raised his blade, his resolve hardening.

caracalla’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you turned to face him. his eyes, usually so fierce and calculating, were soft and full of something you hadn’t expected—peace.

“you didn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice low and full of emotion.

“yes, i did,” you replied, your voice breaking. “because i love you.”

the words tumbled out before you could stop them, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. “i love you,” you said again, tears streaming down your face. “i don’t know when it happened, or how, but you’re not the monster they said you were. you’re flawed and human and—”

caracalla silenced you with a smile, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “i love you, too,” he said, his voice as soft as the breeze outside. “i think i have since the moment i met you.”

he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as if you could somehow pour all the words you hadn’t spoken into that single moment.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a whisper. “i wish we had more time.”

“in another life,” you said, your voice trembling, “the gods will grant us that wish.”

a shout from the soldiers brought you back to reality, and caracalla’s arms tightened around you.

the soldiers moved as one, their blades piercing through you and caracalla in unison. pain blossomed in your chest, but it was dulled by the warmth of his arms around you. you felt yourself falling, and he held you tightly, lowering you to the ground as his own strength faded.

your head rested against his chest, his heartbeat slowing beneath your ear. his lips pressed to your forehead one last time.

and as the darkness closed in, you clung to the hope that somewhere, in another life, you would find each other again.

in the years that followed, your story became legend. the foreign princess and the emperor who fell in love despite the odds, who died together in defiance of a world that sought to tear them apart.

the marble pillars ofcaracalla's room bore silent witness to your final act of defiance, and in the years to come, flowers were left there in quiet tribute to a love that defied the gods themselves.

rome remembered you not as a traitor, but as a symbol of love and loyalty—proof that even in the darkest times, light could be found in the unlikeliest of places.

[sabrinasopposite]

star of the show; clark kent

even the brightest star

with the spotlight on her

felt like a sad girl

since the moon wasn’t there.

angst, drama, theater kid!

romeo and juliet, the tragedy of a love story. they were called star-crossed lovers for a reason—famous for it, hated for it, yet their tale became one of the most influential love stories in history. a love that barely began, but the heart had already been pierced by a dagger.

yet not every love story is a tragedy, or so y/n believed, because that’s how she felt. she was living in a romantic comedy, as she would describe her love life with clark kent—the golden retriever lead in her movie.

he was pure, the missing star in her orbit, yet now he was finally with her. clark was the kind of guy anyone could fall in love with. his charm lay not just in his smile, but in his heart—a heart full of goodness and care, the kind of heart you’d want to shield from any dagger.

y/n had always been in love with clark, ever since their middle school days together. he had always been a great friend to her, until one valentine's day, when she gently placed a soft kiss on his cheek, along with a love letter.

their love had always been there, growing with each love letter that became a confession of their feelings. then one day, clark stood in front of her, holding yellow flowers and his heart, ready to offer both to y/n.

that’s how their love story continued, until it began to crumble like stones falling apart. high school wasn’t the issue—it was that the rom-com paused at a moment when the lead character went missing.

clark often disappeared, acted strangely, or seemed to know too much. at first, y/n didn’t think it was a big deal, but it kept happening—and it never stopped.

she started to see him less and less. y/n was distracted with her theater group while clark was always gone. he’d say the torch magazine was keeping him busy, but the office was usually empty. sometimes chloe was there, but clark? he wasn’t.

one of those nights, y/n finally had him in her presence. it had been weeks since she’d seen him, but now he was there. they sat in his barn loft, one of their favorite places.

y/n sat in front of him, holding her script in hand, her eyes meeting his as she laughed softly, happily. clark read the lines of romeo, helping her prepare for tomorrow night. it was a school play—romeo & juliet—and y/n had the role of juliet.

it made her smile to have her own romeo in front of her.

clark burst into laughter. "how can you take this seriously? the words are so old, i can barely understand what they’re saying."

y/n chuckled, placing her hand gently over his. "sweetheart, you should pay more attention in english class. haven’t you read the book?" she teased him.

clark rolled his eyes but smiled. "no, maybe i should have, since my girl is juliet. i’m ashamed i won’t understand you tomorrow."

y/n chuckled, but a thought slipped out before she could stop it. "as if you’ll be there tomorrow."

clark’s smile faded, his brows furrowing in confusion. "what do you mean by that?"

"well... you’re never there," she said softly, her words tinged with hurt. "you always miss my school plays. there’s always an empty seat reserved for you." it pained y/n every time she didn’t see him in the crowd. she would wonder if he was just out of sight or waiting backstage for her, but he never was.

clark’s heart ached. he quickly grabbed her hands, holding them tightly, afraid her warmth might slip away like her heart. "love, i’m so sorry. i promise i’ll be there tomorrow, with a big bouquet of roses."

y/n chuckled, rubbing her thumb across his hands. "you know i like yellow flowers."

clark smiled softly, looking deeply into her eyes, which now held a shade of blue, reflecting his sadness and regret. "yellow it is, then."

the truth was, clark had never told y/n about his true self. it wasn’t fear that held him back, but his instinct to protect her. after everything he’d seen, all that had happened around him, and what his destiny would demand, his only thought was to keep y/n safe—safe from everyone and everything. she was his heart, and that was the part of him he couldn’t bear to risk.

she was the sun he needed.

yet, like in every romantic comedy, there’s a breaking point where the lovers reach a moment of hurt.

for y/n, that moment came as she stood on stage, the spotlight shining on her, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. the seat reserved for him was empty again.

the star had missed her orbit once more.

the city was shining, but not for her.

it shone for superman.

pt. 2 is out!

much love!!!

ps: if u have watched romeo&juliet (1968) pls say it in unison that tom welling could be benvolio or romeo.

[stealingpotatoes]

dinluke making utterly zero sense but catching so much popularity is my favorite thing to exist ever

no no no this is slander it DOES make sense!! u gotta think, dinluke didn't get popular out of nowhere, they got popular after they canonically met. what 2 other things happened in this episode? 1. din's son going with luke to be a jedi and 2. din becoming mand'alor. you know what that leads to? 1. a reason for din and luke to continue to interact and 2. spicy conflict and a shitload of shared struggle. Din and Luke both have to lead/unite/help their disparate, genocided people, are both strongly devoted to their creeds, both fierce warriors willing to do a helluva lot to protect those they love, and like loaaaads more. they might seem pretty different on the surface but at their cores they rlly match up and share a very particular set of experiences and again HAVE REASON TO MEET REPEATEDLY

and that'd be enough on its own but then you have that against their peoples' ancient feud and bam you have some romeo and juliet spiced in there. and w that, even if you ignore the mand'alor stuff you still have their devotions to their religions (+ w that the conflict of intimacy and want and din's helmet/the old code getting in the way), din knowing NOTHING abt famous hero luke and ofc din actively trying to avoid being the main character vs luke being the Most main character ever. its just. im normal abt them

[aniseya]

“He has to be a witness to what she finds out about herself. It was very important that she had her own agency and that she made this decision independently of him. But I agree, him witnessing it draws them together so much more. So, it went: buffoon, terrifying villain, seductive possible teacher, and then romantic lead. [Laughs] So, I had to find somebody who could play all four characters — buffoon, murderer, a gentle teacher, and then as a romantic lead. You can imagine as I'm writing this, I'm just like, “Who the fuck are we gonna get for this part? Who is going to be able to do this?”

“But I think the way that you see The Stranger and Osha almost immediately Yin and Yang-ing, there's also an argument to be made there.”

“Actually, in earlier drafts, The Stranger had a line from that movie, which is, "I have crossed oceans of time to find you." A lot of Gothic romances were referenced - Jane Eyre, Rochester and sort of the Byronic hero for those two.”

“I was sort of struggling with what the last moment was. I was kind of struggling with it. It was very important that they feel like equals. It was very important that they felt, honestly, like a power couple. I didn't think he should kiss her because, while he's earned her respect, she's earned his, he's earned her allegiance, and she's earned his, I don't know if he has earned that level of intimacy with her. There have been displays of intimacy, but it felt like they weren't there yet. And so I said, “What's a kiss but not a kiss?” [Laughs] I was like, “I’m sorry, I can't think of something.” And the actors came up with holding the lightsaber together, and as soon as that happened, Hanelle [Culpepper], the director of that episode, set up this gorgeous shot. I realized, I was like, “Oh my god, this is the end of Fight Club, and I'm obsessed!” The last line of that movie is, “You met me at a very strange time in my life.” [Laughs] It just didn't feel like we were quite there.”

“Oh, yeah! Again, they’re Sith. It's a different vibe. To me, it's gonna hit different because of their allegiance and who they are. So, yes, it is framed as romantic, but I do think, again, it's not gonna turn out great. I think if he's training her, “One to hold the power, one to crave it.” So they're starting off as equals, but what's gonna happen? Like in Romeo and Juliet, it's amazing because right at the beginning they're like, “Okay, these two die. Let's start the play.” As you're watching this incredible love story unfold, and it's one of the most beautifully iconic plays ever written, in the back of your mind, you're like, “This is not going to turn out well.”

“I want to clarify: They are not necessarily doomed or destined to fail as a team. But the Sith rule of two denotes a power imbalance. Which clearly, due to the final shot, is not their relationship. Also, Plagueis complicates their journey as Sith, because we know his apprentice is eventually Palpatine. They will not defeat him.”

— leslye headland about oshamir for collider

[wildfloweronwheels]

the more I sit with the tortured poets department, the more it makes perfect sense as a body of work taylor would create/release especially when you consider the fact she operates much more closely to an indie artist artistically than a lot of her contemporaries.

so honest it's catching people off guard? she's been doing that her whole career from the minute she put people's real names in her songs. lyrically sharp and slightly alarming? may I present "and you come away with a great little story about a mess of a dreamer to adore you" or "you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter." bold and sonically strange? she's been blurring the lines of genre since her earliest albums, regularly blending country, pop, folk and even rock. 1989 has been her only traditionally dare I say 'sonically cohesive' album and the only reason its palate is so clean is because of the risk a pure pop album posed to her successful country career. if she hadn't nailed the landing then, she wouldn't be where she is now. *it also feels worth noting her most adventurous 'weird' but music has come AFTER she thought she'd had her last chance at mainstream success (lover) and as a result, thrown away the checklist because she thought she had nothing to lose. she was just making music for herself with no expectation of success*

'there's too many metaphors and characters/the muses are murky and I can't tell what's real. does she have to write so much fiction now?' this is the girl who immortalised her neighbours love story, who rewrote romeo and juliet, dreamed about crashing a wedding and was inspired by bob + ethel kennedy for god's sake. she's always written stories and imagined.

'I just can't understand why she'd make this and take this risk when we all liked her so much?' my friend, have we been paying attention to the same artist all these years? taylor swift not taking creative and honestly quite punk career risks would be like christopher nolan films without cillian murphy. she walked away from a development deal at age 14, took a chance on an independent label she built from the ground up and then bet on her future when they held her past hostage. took a genre they said wasn't for teenage girls and transformed it. wrote an album on her own after her songwriting was questioned. took a 10 minute song to #1, directed music videos and a short film worthy of oscar buzz, stretched her muscles and is directing a feature film AND re-recorded all her old work in arguably the biggest potential interruption to her career not for any perceived gain but for the statement of an artist's worth. but the world doesn't view them as risks because they worked

tldr; the tortured poets department is the most taylor swift thing taylor swift has ever made.

[bethanydelleman]

I think The Great Gatsby is the only tragedy that I both love and haven't attempted to fix, either in my mind or through fan fiction. The reason for this is probably because it's impossible to make Jay Gatsby and Daisy a happy couple, no matter what you do with the canon characters. Unlike say, Romeo & Juliet or Mansfield Park, there is no point where something can go right and plausibly end well.

It is fundamental to Daisy's character, and part of the reason that Gatsby fell in love with her, that she is rich and to his that he was born poor. If you fix Gatsby getting stuck at Oxford after the war, either Daisy still marries wealth (and is just a bit more sad about it) or she does marry Gatsby and ends up discontent. At best, they'd achieve middle class (because he wouldn't take the same huge risks married), which she would hate, and while she would have love, it wouldn't be enough.

If Myrtle isn't hit by the car, Gatsby isn't shot in the pool, but that was the most merciful thing that could have happened to him. Daisy was not going to endure the public humiliation of a high profile divorce. Her return to Tom was inevitable (something Nick knew but Gatsby denied). Gatsby dies still able to believe that he'll have a future with Daisy. That's the best he's ever going to get.

Daisy was always an unachievable dream to Gatsby. A girl like her was never going to wait for him to become wealthy. She would never be content with him poor. Tragedy was guaranteed the moment he fell in love. You can't fix it.

[queen-morgana91]

Do you think that Lyanna and Rhaegar were seriously in love?

Yes. It’s literally so plain to see, you have to dig your nails deep in denial to think otherwise. You can read between the lines that GRRM wrote them as lovers.

GRRM has described himself as a romantic and ultimately R+L will be framed romantically (yes yes it has problematic implications when you think about it, but so do many other relationships that the series frames romantically, not least because these books were written with thirty-year-old sexual mores).

He dies with her name on his lips, she with his roses in her hand.

The subversion of “dragon kidnaps girl and valiant lover knight fights a war to save his beloved from her tower” when in truth the “knight” turns out to be a bit of a manwhoring douch who slept with every woman he came across, and the girl loved the dragon he slayed.

The gender subversion of the beautiful Princess with the beautiful voice and the valiant knight who stands up for the weak.

The tale of Bael the Bard, in which a Stark maid associated with winter roses disappears with a singer and comes back with their son. A male relative takes part in his killing and presents it to her as some kind of victory, but it actually breaks her heart, and she dies “by tower”.

Lyanna being heavily asscoicated to Winter Roses which were given to her by non other than Rhaegar Targaryen when he named her his Queen of Love and Beauty. Roses in general are a symbol of love while the blue rose adds a hint of mystique and in attanining the impossible.

Rhaegar, the emo Prince, who was said to have been never truly happy, named the place he stayed at with Lyanna the “Tower of Joy.”

Dany seeing a blue flower growing out of a wall of ice, which filled the air with sweetness in the HotU during the love section of her visions. It's a clear hint of Jon Snow being the love child of Rhaegar and Lyanna who will likely also be Dany’s third and final husband.

Ned confronts Robert about not truly loving Lyanna, because he only ever saw her beauty and not the Iron underneath- it’s implied that the big moment between Rhaegar and Lyanna was meeting her as a Knight who valiantly defended the honor of the weak, not some lovely little maiden spotted at a feast as she would have been to Robert.

The author refers to Rhaegar as a “love struck prince.”

And of course, we have this official new artwork by Justin Sweet, one that GRRM personaly commissioned, which frankly gives me some misguided hope that TWOW is nearly upon us. lol

I love the interplay of light and dark given what we know of these characters: Rhaegar with his sense of grief/doom is fully in the shade of the enormous heart tree while Lyanna is in the half-light half-dark, perhaps representing her own more optimistic and less convoluted worldview. She's exploring, finding balance; he's watching and seeing something he admires that somehow exists in all the twists and inescapable turns of the forest engulfing them.

The third 'person' in the art is the heart tree itself, old/wise/frowning, but also cradling both Lyanna and Rhaegar. They're both connected to it, representing in a sense that their fates are sealed and known. This is a stolen moment they're having (it's a false spring) but despite the simplicity it's still connected to the much larger world around them.

Another point I like is the lack of sigil etc. on their clothing—we know who they are but the interaction is not one of Targaryen to Stark on it's face. [there's also this other art by the same artist which parallels Lyanna and Jon's poses + Rhaegar and Jon's clothes

LAST AND MOST IMPORTANT THOUGH: the blue roses at the bottom that are firmly in the light.

Conclusion: Rhaegar and Lyanna were intended to be your classical tragic love story; think Romeo and Juliet or Tristan and Isolde and whatnot, not Rhaegar kidnapping some random girl to have a Visenya. Although Rhaegar’s desire to have a third child probably pushed him into pursuing his passion in running off with ‘his Lady Lyanna’ too use some of Ser Barristan words here.

[the-menace-in-pink]

The Phantom Troupe auditioning for Romeo and Juliet (chaotic headcanons)

Letting these rascals live up to their theater kids fantasies… how bad can it get? 💀

Chrollo: He wants to be Juliet AND Romeo because he believes he’s got a deep understanding of both characters on a level no one else does, and he gets cast as neither. He ends up getting Prince Escalus’ role as the director thought Chrollo had the regal and commanding look for that.

Machi: She doesn’t bother auditioning—clearly not a big fan of the play. But the casting director is very adamant about her being the perfect Tybalt.

Pakunoda: Gets cast as Lady Capulet, Juliet’s mom, after so many people insisted she was so ‘mother’. Casting director said bring me the mother in question!!!!

Feitan: He wanted Tybalt’s role so badly but got everyone thinking ‘Damn, even Tybalt isn’t that much of a demon.’ No. Surprisingly nailed the Nurse’s role??? And no one in the Troupe is letting him live that one down.

Shalnark: Everyone thought his boyish and mediator (lmao) vibes were 100% Benvolio. Surprisingly he did very well, but kept cracking up every now and then during rehearsals—to the point Machi almost stabbed him fr during the early Benvolio vs Tybalt show off. No one knows how she snuck that sword on stage. Props staff had to make sure the rest of the weapons were fake.

Phinks: Was in competition with Feitan over Tybalt’s role even though he secretly wanted to be Romeo. Almost became Tybalt if not for Machi. He gets to play Count Paris ultimately. Hated the role but eh.

Nobunaga: Lord Capulet your honor, and Shalnark couldn’t resist making comments about him looking like the perfect ‘distinguished-but-not-so-much middle aged man’ for that role. But he was one of the most convincing on stage!

Kortopi: Wanted no part in it. Absolutely none. Got eventually cast as Peter and even that was too much for him.

Shizuku: Casting director wanted her to be Juliet but she couldn’t remember any line for crying out loud. She let out a very rare laugh over reading R&J’s first ever flirting sene. Also deadpans ‘Why must I say Romeo so many times in one sentence? Was Juliet summoning a demon?’ ‘This sounds so bad. They’ve known each other for 2 hours, why is she asking him to get disowned?’ She ended up walking out of the play, and bringing confettis with her to cheer on the others during rehearsals. The Critic no one asked for (Kept pointing out their mistakes all thorough and shouting/whispering every characters’ respective lines to fumbling actors. So much for not being able to remember her parts—)

Uvogin: Got Mercutio’s role a bit too easily. Was proud of himself until he got absolutely livid after finding out he’s gotta die in the play, by Machi’s hands no less! Each time he took a bit too long to give it up, drew out his last lines in the most dramatic ways possible. But audience loved it.

Franklin: Friar Laurence excellence. Pretty much the only person besides Pakunoda who didn’t make much fuss, although him having to stick around as Romeo and Juliet turned to sleeping beauties had him stand like 🧍‍♂️ ‘I thought that was supposed to be the greatest love story of all times?’

Bonolenov: Acted unbothered but begged the director to let him be one of the musicians during the ballroom scene instead. He got in a few nights just fine before some fussing spectators and sponsors inquired about why a mummy was on stage during R&J’s most iconic scenes, and if that was supposed to be a Halloween rendition or something.

Hisoka: You can bet he acted his arse out thinking he could bring a brand new flavor to Romeo. He’d have LOVED having to act it out with Chrollo as Juliet lmao, especially if the decors and stage burned down as the two ended up more busy aiming props and unlucky spectators at each other than acting.

All in all, the ones who got no roles: Shizuku (hates her character and can’t remember her lines), Hisoka (self-explanatory).

Members who got kicked out after a few performances: Bonolenov (stood out too much), Phinks (got out of character by bickering way too often with Feitan, made people think Count Paris was into the Nurse), Machi (she took her Tybalt era a bit too seriously), Chrollo (he kept trying to steal the spotlight like sir YOU’RE A SECOND ROLE SIT DOWN).

[starkiller419]

Friends.

pairing : hayden christensen crica 1999 x f!reader | wc : 7k | 18+MINORS DNI

summary : you and hayden are co-stars in a new 90's teen movie.

warnings : idk just a bit smutty. actually quite smutty. if ur sensitive to swearing there's a couple swears in here.

a/n : this is my first time publishing smut so lmk what ya'll think. this is also a story based on this very detailed and specific dream I keep having, so if you want more, I will write more because I have so much more to say.

—————————————————————————

Hayden and I had been working together for about a month now. We were filming a movie about two teens who lived beside each other, and eventually fall in love and run away together. It's a compelling story, reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet in a way. The whole thing is very Shakespearean.

We first met during the audition process. I had already booked the role so they brought me in to do a chemistry test with some other actors, Hayden being one of them. I had never heard of him before this project but later found out he had been in a couple of TV shows and movies. From the moment I first laid my eyes on him I was in awe, he was beautiful.

He was no doubt the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life. He took my breath away and made my heart stop beating without even having to try. During our chem test, I found it hard to concentrate, all I could think of was how captivating his eyes were and how bright his smile was. By the end of our test, the director had told us that Hayden would be playing opposite me as the love interest of my character.

Yay.

I was excited to get to know this angelic man in front of me better, but I was also very nervous. This wasn't my first project, but it was my first 'big' Hollywood movie. We had a budget of over $2 million and we were filming all over California, even using some of the sets at the Warner Brothers Studios. I was nervous about my performance, and I often found myself questioning whether I was good enough or not for something this grand.

Adding to that nervousness were the thoughts that invaded my mind whenever this blue-eyed boy was near me. His presence alone was intoxicating, and for the first little while there I tried to avoid him when we weren't filming due to my impure thoughts about him. I had a rule that I would never become romantically involved with any of my co-stars, even if it was temporary.

Eventually, though, I gave up trying to avoid him.

We would hang out in between shots, getting food at the craft services table or simply walking around wherever we would be filming that day. When we would wrap for the day he would walk me to my trailer where I was currently living, and he would always walk me to the door and say goodnight before heading to wherever he was staying.

Sometimes when he would walk me to my trailer I would invite him in. Sometimes we would play a board game, make something to eat, or play cards. He taught me how to play poker and I managed to win $100 from him. No matter what we were doing together, I always felt a stupid grin on my face. We would talk and laugh with each other for hours before he would eventually go home for the night.

We would talk about everything and anything, and I felt myself growing more and more attached to him as time went on. Every morning I would wake up excited to see him, and every night I would fall asleep and dream of him. He had slowly invaded the entirety of my being, walking through the empty corridors of my mind and claiming all the rooms as his own.

I was okay with these feelings lingering within me as long as I could manage to contain them, and not act on my desires. However, with each day that passed, it became harder and harder to ignore.

Since temporarily relocating to LA, I hadn't been sleeping well. 12 hour days on set were exhausting and prompted me to sleep, but I never could. I've always struggled with insomnia and I would usually sleep for a couple of hours each night, sometimes less but never more. It was starting to catch up to me and I could feel my sleep deprivation dragging me down during the day.

I had just finished filming for the day and walked myself to my trailer. Hayden had already left for the day and I found the walk to be quite lonesome without the comfort of our small talk. I entered my trailer, took a short shower, and prepared to try and catch up on some sleep.

My trailer was small, but still larger than the average on-set trailer. It had a queen bed in the back, a small dining table and couch, a washroom with a sink, toilet, and shower, and a small kitchen. There was a TV on the wall across from the couch, and I felt like watching something would aid me in falling asleep. So I got comfortable on the couch and turned on the TV, scrolling through the guide until I landed on NBC and started watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

I watched a few episodes before I felt myself drifting off into sleep, and just as I was about to fall asleep fully I heard the door to my trailer open. I had locked it and only one other person had the key, so I knew it had to be Hayden.

I opened my eyes and I was correct, he was standing in the doorway wearing a white t-shirt, a black Toronto Maple Leafs hat, and black jeans. Even in something so simple he was so effortlessly gorgeous, it hurt.

"Hi." I groggily greeted him as I moved slightly to sit up on the couch, rubbing my eyes as I did so.

"Hi, were you sleeping?" He asked as he walked fully into the trailer, closing the door behind him.

"I was trying to, it wasn't going very well." I chuckled dryly and his expression turned into one of concern.

"I can leave if you'd like." He went to turn and before he could fully, I reached out and grabbed his arm. He looked down at me with an eyebrow raised and his movements stopped.

"You don't have to go. I mean, like, if you don't want to." I stuttered slightly and let go of his arm, it was more muscular than I had expected, and his skin was warm to the touch.

"Okay." He moved closer and sat beside me on the end of the couch,

"What are you watching?" He pointed to the TV and I brought my knees to my chest as I sat with my left side pushing into the cushions and smiled as I faced him,

"Fresh Prince." It was one of my favorite shows and he knew it. He returned the smile I gave him and turned his attention to the TV, as did I.

I felt myself drifting off again as my head lay on the back cushion of the couch. My gaze had drifted from the TV to Hayden as he sat in front of me, laughing occasionally at the show. I noticed how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down with each laugh he took, and how he would smile to himself at certain moments whenever he was amused.

I closed my eyes and allowed the peace of his presence to lull me into a deep slumber.

I woke up a few hours later when I felt him pick me up and walk through my trailer, only to place me on my bed and tuck me into the covers. I then felt him trace my face with his finger and tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. The TV had been turned off and it was dead silent in here. I opened my eyes and saw him walking away from the small space that held the bed.

Before I could stop myself, I reached out and grabbed his arm yet again, and was overcome with the feeling of his warm skin against my cold skin.

"I thought you were asleep?" He said as he turned to face me, kneeling so we could be at eye level with each other.

"I was, but now I'm awake," I shrugged as I stared into his ocean-blue eyes. He frowned slightly before saying,

"You should go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't apologize. I'm a light sleeper." His frown disappeared only to be replaced by a slight half-smile. He went to stand up and walk away again, but I didn't want him to go. I also didn't want to ask him to stay and sleep in my bed, even though that's what I wanted. I just didn't want to have to ask him, that would be awkward if he said no or took it the wrong way, I simply liked having him around.

"Where are you going?" I asked and he looked down at me slightly confused,

"It's almost 4 in the morning, I was gonna go sleep in my trailer."

"Do you always sleep in your trailer?" I thought he had a hotel or home here or something, we had never actually spoken about it before so really it was always just an assumption.

"No, but I don't feel like driving. I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel." He laughed slightly and only then did I notice the slight purple eye bags that graced his face and the way his eyes were slightly drooping.

"You can sleep here if you'd like," I said sheepishly, hoping he wouldn't think more of this than just a friendly offer. Between friends. Friends,

That's it.

"Are you sure?" He asked as he slowly walked back towards the bed and waited for me to nod my head in confirmation before he climbed in under the covers and lay beside me.

We lay on our sides facing each other, only a couple of inches separating us, and I reached over and used my thumb to rub the bags beneath his eyes. His eyes fluttered closed in response to my touch and he placed his hand on my wrist, holding my hand against his face. I sighed softly, feeling somewhat guilty about indulging in the pleasurable feeling of his skin against mine, but enjoying it nonetheless.

We stayed like that until the two of us fell into a calm and peaceful sleep, breathing in sync. My dreams were filled with him, and it was my best sleep in years.

The next morning I had awoken wrapped in his arms, with my head tucked into the crook of his neck. My leg was wrapped around his and I could feel the soft skin of his lips just barely touching my forehead. It was blissful, to say the least. The way he and I breathed in sync, the scent of coffee and vanilla that was radiating from him, and the feeling of his large hands on my back and waist.

I rolled over slightly so I could glance at the clock beside the bed. It was 9:30 AM, and we had a 9:45 call time. Panic set in as I sat straight up, causing Hayden to jolt awake, confused at my state. I jumped out of bed and practically sprinted to the washroom to brush my hair, soon followed by my teeth. I heard the sheets rustle and footsteps follow not long after, and then I saw him stand behind me in the mirror.

His blonde hair was a bit of a mess, the bags under his eyes had disappeared, and he looked well-rested. He gave me a slight smirk as I furiously brushed my teeth, "We won't be late, there's no need to destroy your gums." He chuckled slightly and I bent down to spit the toothpaste out of my mouth before speaking to him. He was right but still, I wanted to be a bit more prepared than I was at this moment. "My gums are perfectly fine, thank you," I said teasingly as I grinned nice and wide, displaying my teeth and gums for him. He laughed and butterflies danced around in my stomach, fluttering up into my heart. He turned and walked away from me and I watched as he neared a cupboard in the kitchen and grabbed two bowls, a box of Cheerios, and the milk from the fridge.

I laughed as I exited the small washroom and walked towards the dining table where he had set down the bowls, "Hayden I can't eat that. I just brushed my teeth." He shrugged and paid no mind as he continued to prepare me a bowl.

"You have to eat something." He rolled his eyes slightly as he sat down on the bench and began eating the cereal. Despite the rolling of his eyes, he had a small smile on his face that I couldn't help but admire. I gave in and sat across from him and started to eat.

"Wow Mr. Christensen, this is splendid. What a fine breakfast you've made me this morning." I spoke in a fake posh accent, something we did with each other often. He had just taken a bite of his cereal and my posh guise caused him to laugh, and milk came running out of his nose. I couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably at the sight, but I got up through my laughter and grabbed the paper towel that sat on the counter.

He too was laughing while pinching the bridge of his nose. He had tears in his eyes and a couple fell as he blinked and reached for the paper towel, our hands brushing against each other slightly. He cleaned the milk off his face, and then off the table, coughing a few times in the process which caused me to erupt in laughter all over again.

"It's not funny y'know. That shit hurt." He said with a fake frown gracing his lips, which were trying to hold back a laugh of his own.

"Sorry, sorry," I said quietly and finished my bowl, bringing it to the sink and rinsing it before walking to the door to slip on my shoes. I turned back to face him as he put the paper towel back in its rightful spot, "You ready?" I asked.

He smiled brightly and responded, in a voice as smooth and soft as honey, "Always."

2 weeks had passed since Hayden had slept in my bed for the first time. Yes, the first time. The next night he came and knocked on my door at around 10 PM, he was shy and sheepish when he asked if he could, and I quote, 'have a sleepover'. He was being his usual sarcastic self of course, but I found it endearing either way and said yes.

A couple of days passed before he spent the night again, this time I had invited him on our nightly walk back from the soundstage. The next day I didn't even have to ask him, he just walked me home and followed me inside. When I began to get ready for bed he did the same, following me into the washroom to brush his teeth with a spare toothbrush I kept in the drawer.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a mouthful of toothbrush and its paste. He grinned and used his thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth, collecting a small amount of toothpaste on it and wiping it on the towel that hung beside the sink.

"We're having another sleepover, duh." He rolled his eyes as he responded with a mouth full of toothbrush and paste as well.

Since then it had just become an unspoken thing. Every night he would come to my trailer with me, and I never once tried to stop him or protest his actions. I enjoyed having him around, and I loved waking up in his arms every morning, inhaling his coffee-vanilla scent, and feeling the contrast of his warm skin against my cold. He usually slept shirtless, he claimed he got hot, but I think he just secretly wanted an excuse to be shirtless around me. Not that I minded, the man is ripped.

Nothing ever happened between us when he slept over, even though a part of me always wanted to, I couldn't for some reason. Anytime I thought of it too I felt guilty. But the desire to feel his lips against mine just kept growing and growing.

One day we were filming a scene that took place late at night where my character, the Juliet of the story, drags his character, Romeo, to the pool in his backyard. I was told to strip down into my bra and underwear and jump in the pool, and Hayden would follow. Despite having shared a bed with him for weeks now, I felt a little nervous at the thought of being so exposed in front of him.

But I had a job to do, so I put my big actor-girl pants on and did as the director said, and everything went swimmingly, pun intended. In that scene, I was to pull him into the pool and we would begin play-fighting in the water. We did just that and I ended up with my legs wrapped around his waist, both of us only in our underwear, just inches away from his face. I spoke all my lines just due to second nature and my memorization skills, but all I could focus on was how close his lips were to mine.

As I spoke the words I knew I was supposed to say, I found myself wanting to say more. To speak to him and only him, alone without the twenty or so people who surrounded us. He leaned his head closer to me and our noses brushed against each other. We had a kissing scene in the script, a couple actually and I knew exactly which days we would be filming them, but this wasn't one of them. So why did he move closer?

"And… CUT!" The director yelled as he stood from his chair and walked over to the edge of the pool. I removed my legs from their grip on Hayden's waist but kept my hands around his neck, and his hands remained on my waist holding me close to him. "That was great you two, we could sense the electricity. I think that's all for today so just go home, rest, and be back here for 11 AM tomorrow." The director spoke to us and we each thanked him and nodded our heads.

When he had mentioned the electricity between us I felt my cheeks grow red. He hadn't failed to hide his attraction to me, and I doubt I had hid mine from him. But still, we were actors. It was our job to be that way with each other. It was nothing deeper than that, we had to stay professional.

It didn't take long for the small crowd of people to disperse, leaving just Hayden and me behind. We were still in the pool, his hands were still around my waist gripping me tightly. As everyone had packed up I managed to avoid meeting his gaze, afraid of what I would do if I did, but now that we were alone I had no excuse. I turned to look at him and his eyes had been darkened by the starlight but shone brightly nonetheless.

I didn't know what to say to him, but I felt like I had to say something to prevent myself from acting on my suppressed urges and desires. The feeling of his hands holding me tightly was something so familiar, but this time it felt different somehow. It made me feel different.

"Wanna go get some Chinese food?" I asked him the first thing I could think of, which was stupid because I don't even like Chinese food and he knew that.

"You don't even like Chinese food." He said with a laugh, his slightly wet hair sticking to his forehead.

"I didn't know what else to say," I admitted sheepishly. He leaned his head closer to mine once again allowing our noses to brush against each other.

"Why did you feel the need to say something?" He spoke low and it caused my breath to come to a halt. Something about him right now was so-- intoxicating.

"So that I wouldn't do something I may regret." I softly said, never breaking eye contact. He moved even closer and rested his forehead against mine. His hand on my waist travelled down my hips to my thigh where he proceeded to wrap my legs around him again.

"And what would that be?" His low tone sent shivers throughout my body, and down to places it probably shouldn't have gone to. I was finding it hard to resist my urges now more than ever, the way his lips looked in the moonlight, how there was a bead of water positioned right on the corner of his lips, and how tempted I was to just lick it off.

I sighed softly as I glanced down to the water beneath us, seeing the rippled image of his toned torso sent me into overdrive. I looked back into his eyes which were the same color as the water we waded in, and leaned my head closer to his so our lips brushed against each other as I spoke,

"What are you doing to me?" I asked him and before he could respond I closed the distance between us, sending a blaze of passion and fire through my veins.

He kissed me back instantly, his hands holding my thighs squeezed exponentially hard. He moved the hand from my left thigh and brought it to the back of my neck, holding me in place while he kissed me ferociously. I brought my hands from where they were resting on his neck to his hair and entangled my fingers through his sandy blonde locks.

His hand traveled slightly to my ass and he squeezed harshly, sending a shockwave of pleasure throughout me, causing a slight moan to escape my lips. If it wasn't so damn public, I would take him right here right now.

In response, I tugged at his hair and now it was time for him to moan softly into our kiss, and if I thought I was in overdrive before, I had just exploded. We continued kissing for what seemed like hours, but in reality, was only a few minutes. Whenever I was with him time didn't seem to exist and I loved it. I loved spending minutes with him but feeling as if those minutes were hours, and I loved spending hours with him and having the hours feel like days.

Our kiss was interrupted by the sound of a golf cart approaching the set. I broke away from him with a shocked look in my eyes, and he just laughed and set me down on the pool floor before grabbing my hand and leading me out. We ran half-naked back to my trailer, dripping wet and leaving two sets of footprints behind us as we did. Halfway there Hayden had scooped me up in his arms and carried me in bridal style, leaving only one set of footprints behind for the rest of the way.

That night we showered together, caught up in the adrenaline of our escape and heated pool makeout session. But aside from more kissing, nothing had happened, and we continued with our lives. He had now basically moved into my trailer, he spent every night here, his car was parked right outside, and he even had his own toothbrush, no longer using the spare one I had.

Everything between us had quickly changed from 'best friends' to 'domestic partners' after that kiss. And I didn't regret it one bit. We had discussed our feelings towards each other very vaguely. I was never good with that kind of stuff, admitting feelings is hard, and he's just a little shy and awkward whenever feelings get brought up.

We had a mutual understanding that we liked each other, but we also understood that we weren't necessarily dating each other. We were just two people who spent 90% of their time together, slept in the same bed, and occasionally had very heated makeout sessions that would end up with me on top of his lap.

A few weeks ago he told me about this role he had auditioned for. He was very excited about it, but he couldn't tell me what it was for. He said he would tell me if he ever got it, or if he didn't. He even had to leave early a couple of times during filming to go for an audition.

One of those times was today, he had left the set a couple of hours early and I was now in my trailer. It was 9 PM and I was making myself a cup of tea before I went to bed. I had locked the door, but Hayden had a key so it didn't matter much. I placed the teabag into the hot water I had just boiled and began to slice a lemon. I added a spoonful of honey and two lemon slices, followed by an ice cube. As I went to drop the ice cube in my mug, the door of the trailer unlocked, and seconds later it dramatically slammed open.

Hayden rushed inside with a huge grin plastered on his face. I walked towards him around the counter and smiled back, "Well hello smiley." I greeted him

"Hi P, what's that?" He said as he pointed to the mug behind me. I don't know why, but he insisted on calling me 'P'. It was his favorite nickname he had given me, and I didn't know why. There wasn't even a 'P' anywhere in my name.

"Tea." I shrugged and he stepped closer to me, my back pressed against the counter in response, "Why do you call me 'P'? You are aware there's no P in my name right?" I asked with a tilt of my head.

He laughed and placed both hands on either side of me on the counter before saying, "P stands for lots of things. Pickles, Peanut Butter, party, promise, pe-"

"So my nickname was a result of your hunger?" I asked with a laugh of my own.

"No, if you would've let me finish. My personal favorite is princess. That's what I think every time I call you P." He leaned closer and kissed my cheek softly, but then backed away completely. I frowned slightly at his actions but took the opportunity to walk back to my teacup.

"That's very sweet of you. Now would you like to explain to me why you almost broke down the door coming in here?" I chuckled softly as I motioned over to the door with my head, and then took a small sip of my tea.

"I have good news." He was excited, I could see it in his eyes, and that made me excited too. He stepped closer to me and I placed the cup back on the counter, "Do you remember the role I was telling you about? The secret one?" he wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

"Hmm… Sounds familiar yes." I smiled as he walked even closer to me and grabbed onto my arms before speaking through his huge grin,

"I got it." He whispered and I thought I had misheard him. He must've noticed my confused expression because he repeated himself, louder this time, and I squealed in joy for him.

"Oh my god, that's amazing! Congratulations! Can you finally tell me what the role is then?" I exclaimed as his grip on my arms tightened slightly,

"Star Wars." My jaw dropped, I wouldn't be surprised if it fell all the way to the floor, and I felt the air knocked out of my lungs. I have loved Star Wars ever since I was a kid. I was Princess Leia for Halloween for the first 4 years of my life, and then I went as Darth Vader until I was 16.

"Holy fuck." That was all I could say as I reached my arms around his neck and wrapped him in a hug, "That's incredible Hayd, I'm so happy for you." I whispered into his neck softly. He pulled away from the hug slightly so he could look into my eyes and said,

"I get to be Anakin Skywalker. Darth fucking Vader." He had a look in his eyes I could only describe as a child-like glee. He was so happy in this moment and I could basically feel it radiating off of him, and it consumed me as well. I once again felt the breath being knocked from me as I hugged him again, tighter this time.

He placed his arms around my waist and lifted me into the air, spinning around a few times and I squealed as a result. He then casually shifted one of his hands down to my thigh, encouraging me to wrap around him. I looked into his eyes which were full of love and joy, and I couldn't help but place a soft kiss gently on his lips. He returned the kiss and I could feel his smile growing stronger. The kiss deepened as always and became heated and passionate in a matter of moments. He walked over to the counter and placed me on top of it, standing between my legs and never breaking the kiss.

His hands remained on my thigh and waist, squeezing softly every so often. We broke away from the heated exchange for a moment to catch our breath. He rested his forehead against mine, one of my favorite things he does before he softly uttered three words that caused my heart to stop.

"I love you."

I backed away slightly and gazed at him in disbelief, "You-- what?" That was all I could manage to say.

"I love you, and I need you to know. I've loved you since I first laid my eyes on you, and I will love you until my dying breath." He spoke like a poet, his liquid-smooth voice sent chills all through me. I knew I loved him, but I always tried to avoid romantic love and stick to a platonic sort of love. I thought it would be easier that way.

I had failed miserably, however, and I often found myself daydreaming about spending the rest of my life with him. I had never felt so strongly about someone before, and I had never gotten along with someone better than him.

"I love you too," I whispered through a large smile plastered on my face. He returned the smile and leaned back in to kiss me. This kiss was so different than all the others, it was full of love and adoration.

He wrapped both his arms around my waist and lifted me off the counter, carrying me to the bed. He laid me down gently and moved his kisses down my jaw, to the pressure point on my neck. I moaned softly at the feeling of his lips against my skin causing him to bite down slightly which sent a rush of pleasure throughout my body.

His hands traveled from my waist to under the hem of my shirt and he began to lift it. I sat up slightly and allowed him to remove the shirt completely, leaving me bare in front of him. He then began to kiss down my sternum before placing a soft kiss onto my left breast, and then the right. I giggled slightly at his sudden confidence and shift from his usually shy demeanor. He raised his head from my chest and looked at me,

"Why are you laughing?" He said with a slight smile,

"I'm just shocked at your newfound confidence." I shrugged lightly, "Does it have anything to do with you becoming Anakin Skywalker?" I asked and his grin shifted from playful to mischievous as he moved upwards and raised himself above me, our noses brushing against each other before he spoke in a low tone,

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm tired of trying to hold myself back from taking what's mine." His dominant tone sent shivers down my body and I leaned my head up to close the distance between our lips. His dominant state remained intact as he swiftly flipped me over so I was now on top of him, straddling his waist.

I could feel his hard-on through his dark sweatpants pressing against my core, and it was driving me crazy. I rocked my hips softly against his, causing him to moan slightly into our kiss and I could feel myself getting wetter as each moment passed. His hands were gripping onto my waist and he began to guide me against him, slowly at first but he quickly picked up his pace.

"Hayden.." I said softly, breaking away from the kiss for a moment to garner his attention.

"Yes, my love?" He breathed out as he gazed into my eyes with lust and adoration.

"Please." That was all I could manage to say, and I had hoped he would take the hint and not make me ask for it. But I was dead wrong.

"Please what? Use your words." His tone was deep and authoritative and his eyes had glossed over with an unfamiliar darkness.

"Please fuck me." I choked out and a sly smirk made its way across his lips before he kissed me again, softer this time, and sat up so our chests pressed against each other. I brought my hands to the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, throwing it to the floor somewhere. I traced my hands along his abs and down to his V-line. He was so perfect, in every way. His entire being had to have been carved by angels, it was the only way for a man like him to exist.

His hands traveled to the waistband of my shorts, wasting no time as he snaked his fingers underneath them and I lifted myself so he could rid me of them completely, leaving me completely nude on top of him. His long fingers danced atop my thighs, teasing my core which was now aching for him. Begging to be touched by him.

I whined softly and a slight chuckle escaped his lips, "You're that desperate for me? You're whining?" I nodded with my eyes shut, unable to look into his eyes. He chuckled again and said softly, "What did I say earlier princess, use your words." My eyes fluttered open and I softly said,

"Don't be a tease playboy." With a smirk of my own gracing my lips. He laughed slightly and instead of a vocal response, he moved his hand from my thigh to the slick that had pooled between my thighs. His soft touch sent shockwaves through me and I moaned louder than I would like to admit, but I couldn't help it. He was so intoxicating.

He rubbed up my slit slightly, collecting a pool of my sex on his two fingers before raising them to my lips, pushing ever so slightly on the bottom one prompting me to open my mouth and suck myself off his fingers.

"Fuck." He groaned out. My actions had encouraged his dick to grow harder beneath me and I smiled proudly once he removed his fingers from my mouth and brought them back down to my heat, rubbing circles on my clit. Incoherent babbles left my lips as he worked me up, before entering two of his fingers into me and slowly stretching me out.

I moaned upon his entry and felt the intense need to pleasure him as well, to give him even a fraction of the pleasure he was providing me. I moved my hand from its place on his neck down to his cock and palmed him through his sweatpants. His breathing got harsher as we continued to pleasure each other, relishing in each other's touch. I felt a familiar know forming in my stomach as he rubbed my clit and now pumped three of his fingers in and out of me at a fast pace.

"Oh fuck. I'm--" Before I could finish my sentence I felt the knot unfold and I had released myself all over his fingers, a prideful grin graced his lips. My vision was clouded with white dots and everything around me felt hazy as his fingers fucked me through my orgasm, the strongest one I had ever had. Especially from just fingering.

I felt the overstimulation of his fingers pressed against me and began to squirm in his lap, trying to get away as he continued pumping in and out of me, but it was no use. His arms held onto me tightly and he continued, and I felt yet another knot forming in my stomach.

There was no way this man was about to make me cum twice in a matter of seconds.

And yet that's exactly what happened. I screamed out as I released onto him again, looking down to see the pool of juices I had released collecting onto his lap, drenching his dark pants and allowing the outline of his bulge to poke through the dampened fabric.

"Holy fuck." I said breathlessly as he removed his fingers from me and flipped me over to my back, removing his pants and boxers in the process.

"You liked that?" He asked teasingly as he began to kiss up and down my body, starting at my pelvis and ending with a soft peck on my lips.

"Mhm." I breathed out, unable to form any words due to the power of the orgasm. He hovered above me with his forearms resting on either side of my head keeping him up. He leaned his head down and placed a kiss on my lips and I felt his rock-hard cock twitch slightly against my thigh, causing me to moan into our kiss.

He reached one of his hands down and pumped himself twice before rubbing in between my folds. I broke away slightly and looked down, and my mouth dropped open as a result. He was huge, so huge I was afraid he wouldn't fit in me. Hayden must have noticed my shocked state and he laughed slightly before pushing his forehead against mine and pressing me back against the bed.

"You'll be okay my love, I promise. You can take it." His words sent heat throughout me and I felt a knot beginning to twist in my stomach. The man had managed to work me up with just his words. I nodded slowly and pressed my lips to his and I felt his tip slowly enter into me, and then I had an idea.

"Wait," I said and he stopped instantly, pulling away from our kiss and leaving the tip of his dick resting in me.

"What's wrong?" His voice was laced with concern as he gazed into my eyes,

"I want to watch," I admitted shyly and his concerned state quickly turned into a lustful one as he crashed our lips together passionately and softly grunted before saying,

"God you're so fucking hot." Distancing himself from me slightly so I could lift my head up and watch as he slowly began inserting himself into me. I watched as his tip fully disappeared, followed by his shaft until he bottomed out inside me, and I swear I could feel him in my stomach.

My gaze never faltered from our connected being as I groaned in pain, and then pleasure as he slowly moved in and out of me. It took a moment before I could adjust to him, and he seemed to be relishing in not only my sensitive state but also the way my walls desperately clung to him. He watched me with a smirk on his face as I watched him pick up his pace, slamming into me faster and faster until he hit a certain spot in me that made my back arch and my head fall backward.

"Fuck you feel so good princess, you're doing so good." He praised me and I could only moan in response, he was fucking me brain-dead and I had no complaints. I had imagined this for so long but now that it was finally here, he had surpassed my every fantasy and expectation by a million percent. His words of approval made my core ache, and I jutted my hips up to grind against the hard bone of his pelvis, creating friction on my clit and pushing me closer to my release.

I felt his hand grip my chin as he pulled me upwards closer to him, softly kissing my cheeks as he jackhammered into me. His soft kisses combined with the intensity of every other movement he made were driving me over the edge, along with the soft grunts and groans he would occasionally release from his plump lips. He stopped kissing my cheeks and remained holding onto my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

I felt the knot in my stomach return and when his other hand reached down and began thumbing at my clit, I lost it. I became a loud squirming mess beneath him which only encouraged him to fuck me harder.

"You have no idea how-- how badly I've wanted to see you like this."

He spoke between his panting breaths and with those words, I felt my release coming. "Hayd I'm--" He cut me off with a kiss before I could finish, meeting our tongues in bliss and passion, and he broke away for only a moment to whisper onto my lips,

"Cum for me my love, cum all over me." And so I did. I felt my walls begin to twitch uncontrollably against his rock-hard cock, his thrusts growing sloppy and hasty. I could sense he was close as well, and I encouraged it by purposefully squeezing myself tighter around him and soon enough I felt him twitch inside of me, fully releasing himself into me. I milked him dry and even went as far as to buck myself against him a few times, overstimulating him just a fraction of how he had me.

He collapsed on top of me as he finished, both of our chests heaving with our heavy breathing. I snaked my hand through his blonde hair, twirling strands around my finger absentmindedly while his hand made its way up and down my back. We lay in silence for a few moments, I listened to his breathing slow and he listened to my heartbeat.

"I mean it you know," He whispered softly into my chest and I could sense his usual shy demeanor sneaking it's way back in, "I really do love you." He shifted slightly to look into my eyes, and I felt tears poking at the sides of mine.

"I know. I mean it too. You're mine and I'm yours." I said smiling at him.

And I meant it. Every. Damn. Word.

[amphitriteswife]

📓Ror/ SnV characters as teachers/subjects pt2📓

🌸Tag list🌸: @miss-seanymph-pani @viostar2095 @nicasdreamer @vilereign @tinyy-tea-cup @monstertreden

Qin Shi Huang:

🧧he teaches Chinese (it’s a subject where i live).

🧧He isn’t serious at all and mostly just talks with his students about anything and everything

🧧Chinese is difficult tho so if you need extra help he has no problem giving you some extra lectures

🧧gets along great with most teachers….most.

🧧’where did you go on vacation sir?’ ‘China.’ ‘But you’ve been there like the last 16 years’ ‘yes.’

🧧he teaches his students Chinese curse words. He denies doing it tho, so if you get caught it wasn’t him.

🧧brings moon cakes and usually changes the lesson to a longer lasting lunch break

🧧legit sometimes forget to prepare lessons and just lets everyone go early.

🧧’oh mr. Poseidon gave yall a lot of homework? Don’t worry yall we’ll just watch some movies today.’

🧧 gives homework sometimes, but doesn’t get mad if u don’t make it.

🧧goes to all school events, trips, parties no matter what he’s always present.

🧧probably got in trouble with the principal. Doesn’t care. Why? He’s one of the most loved teachers and would be shame to let him go.

🧧’class i’m tired so imma let yall go early today’

🧧allows eating in his class, as well as phones. Man is addicted to his phone too so he don’t see a problem with it.

🧧good friends with budda and Hades. They usually combine classes for trips n stuff

🧧legit thinks that the school should have trips to China. Bro will have a whole meeting about it and won’t back down

🧧has like those learning posters in his classroom. It’s usually a map of China and some basic words or numbers.

🧧puts on some Chinese drama’s or series for the class to watch, even the mukbangs.

🧧He spends his lunchbreak in a restaurant, might flirt with the waiter tho. It’s a Chinese restaurant too.

🧧if he aint at the restaurant he’s probably buying things or just talking with student or his coworkers.

🧧gives his credit card to the students he trusts and asks them to but him something, yall ofcourse can get something for yourselves too.

🧧’sir, you just 3 lessons in a row. How do you have Starbucks? It’s a 15 minute walk’ ‘I have my ways…’

🧧Every time you see him he’s with another girl, man’s a player ok. He had like idk 4829173927293739 concubines, wives not included.

Loki:

🎭 surprisingly teacher literature.

🎭 ‘this text means that children are like monstors, if not, worse’

🎭 is either nice or very creepy. No in between.

🎭 makes a distinguish between students he likes and doesn’t like.

🎭 legit gets bullied by his students. ‘Sir who is Sigyn?’ ‘Oh that’s a very long and delicate story.’ He doesn’t want anyone to know his personal life cause it’s……personal.

🎭 ‘Romeo (Loki) was a fool for believing Juliet (brunhilde) would ever love him.’ The class probably knew about it and laughs at him.

🎭 bro legit ran out the room crying and shoved Hercules aside who was like ‘yo wtf just happend’ and just continued his day. Loki on the other hand was crying in the janitor’s closet about Sigyn.

🎭 Do. Not. Mention . Sigyn. His soul is to delicate to think about her.

🎭Has a picture of Sigyn on his desk and looks at it a lot. But tries not to show it.

🎭 Writes poems about Sigyn, sometimes some art or some flowers.

🎭If you spot some purple flowers on his desk it’s cause they remind him of Sigyn, if you ask he’ll lie about it.

🎭 Gives surprise tests, why? Cause he can. He only gives them to students who don’t do their homework.

🎭 If u like literature he sometimes asks you about your favorite poem and has a conversation about it. May include it in his lesson too.

🎭 ‘Can i use the restroom?’ ‘I don’t know can you?’ Type of teacher, only to students he doesn’t like. If you a good student he’ll let you go to the restroom.

🎭 He spends the entire 1st week after holidays just talking with students and not doing any work.

🎭 hates meetings. He never shows up for then what got him in trouble but he doesn’t care. He thinks that meetings are a waste of time and that all the stuff can be put in an email.

🎭he’s divorced ok. And Sigyn has the kids most of the time. So he is a mood swing, he doesn’t have them he just is one. The other day he all smiley and okay and the other he just depresso

🎭 needs therapy, maybe counseling, and meds. He’s over brunhilde tho, so now he tries to get Sigyn back,

🎭class, if bro is in good terms w his kids n ex wife bro can be the most chillest teacher, like buddha and qin level, but he first needs to be mentally stable.

🎭 one of his kids visited him at school and he started crying, so he spent the whole lesson with his kid and let the class go early

Brunhilde:

🪽 She’s the school’s psychologist.

🪽 Students as well as teachers can go to her with their problems.

🪽She has her own office where she talk with ppl

🪽doesn’t get along with the principal (Zeus)

🪽When you have an appointment with her she usually already sends an email to the teacher’s class you originally were supposed to be in so that you wont be marked absent.

🪽She is also present during the teachers’ meetings. She has a list of ppl who visit her and backs up those students.

🪽She also handles suspensions, especially if the student had talked to her before or visits her regularly.

🪽Her office had pictures of her sisters, some are also teachers and some are still students at the school.

🪽 She is happily engaged to Siegfried, who sometimes visits the school and helps out with functions.

🪽 Also tags along, but she usually tags along for amusement parks or museums, cause she doesn’t like being too far away from her sisters.

🪽 Sometimes takes students out of lessons to have a talk with them to make sure they’re alright.

🪽She also talks with ppl who have dyslexia or example autism so that she can make sure the student gets al the time they need

🪽She’s pretty chill actually, she likes hearing about her students doing better in school and is willing to do everything to ensure that.

🪽offers counseling, extra lessons and making sure that her students well beings aren’t neglected.

✨Note✨: hey yall its me again, i made a new one w other characterss, only i ran out of ideas so i may make some more though also thank yall for Reading this 🩷

[valsverse]

𝐞𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐜'𝐬

summary. headcanons of your relationship with edmund pevensie before dating. (fem reader)

— straight up fluff, nothing else. PART 2/2 [ link to part 1 here ]

— Reciting Shakespearean quotes to each other. You two can have a whole conversation with just quotes from Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, or even A Midsummer Night’s Dream. But the quotes just keep getting more and more suggestive until you're both just absentmindedly flirting with each other without even realizing it because it just seems so natural.

— Both of you staring at each other's lips while talking. Like his eyes dart from your eyes, to your lips, to your eyes, and back to your lips AGAIN because he just finds your lips looking so kissable. — (Expanding on the above ^) Close proximity between the two of you whenever he has the sudden urge to kiss you, (though that urge doesn't get full-filled for a while..) and INTENSE eye contact paired with soft murmurs. — BONUS: If you speak another language, use that to your absolute advantage. Just imagine.. (using French because that happens to be the language I speak, but just imagine it as whatever other language you speak.) Y/N: Je crois que je suis amoureux de toi. (I think I'm in love with you.) Edmund: What? Y/N: What?

— Brushing hands!! All the time!! Him grabbing your hand to lead you through a crowded hallway so you "don't get lost", but really it's just an excuse to be in contact with your skin. ^ (adding onto this) Making excuses along the lines of, "Your hands are cold.. let me warm them up for you." despite it being SUMMER and no where near cold.

— Tending his wounds after battle. At first he tries to hide his injuries from you, but he ends up failing miserably. You do end up scolding him for his reckless behavior while cleaning a cut right above his eye, but he doesn't even take in any of the words you're saying to him, for he's far too busy admiring how stunning you look when you're concentrated.

— Reading together all the time!! You've both read all the Narnian classics, of course. He always takes out two copies of the same book, in case you want to read the same book with him as well, so he can talk about it with you later. He loves when you read to each other as well, usually under a tree or shade of some sort, his head on your lap while you're gently running your fingers through the his hair. Your voice is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard, I swear, he could fall asleep to it. He also loves how your face contorts into different expressions as you're processing the plot, and how you bring the characters to life through changing your tone or pitch. He just thinks it's the greatest thing ever.

— Continuously denies whoever makes the assumption that he fancies you, despite him following you around like a love-sick puppy. I mean, seriously, a blind man could tell that he likes you. Peter is so sick of it.

— He gets so happy when he successfully makes you laugh out loud, because your laughter is like music to his ears. He immediately looks at you after making a joke in hopes to see your smile or hear your laugh. It's adorable, honestly.

— Awkwardly laughing to try not to malfunction when you give him a compliment. — Slow dancing in the dark when neither of you can fall asleep. The curtains are just slightly ajar, and everything around you is dead quiet, no words exchanged. He twirls you around just to hear your quiet laughter that is quickly muffled by your hand, not wanting to risk waking up anybody and getting caught. Your bodies are in absolute sync, and he's just praying that you can't hear his quickening heartbeat since the space between the two of you is almost nonexistent. — Dancing in the rain as well, laughing and clutching onto each other as the rain pours down, splashing in puddles as he twirls you around, both of you laughing like little kids. He couldn't care less if he wakes up with a cold the next day, (which he probably will considering the fact that his blouse is absolutely SOAKED in the rain.) because this is the happiest he's ever been in a while. — Sword fighting!!!! And once he finds out about your expertise with swords, well, that's just another thing to add on to his never-ending list of why he likes you. But his favorite part is when he eventually knocks your sword out of your hand, pinning you to the ground in the process. — And the first kiss... was something else. It all started with just one small kiss, pulling away instantly. But then it escalated VERY quickly. His hands cupped your face, but slowly moved down to your waist while one of your hands were tangled in his ebony locks, the other resting on his neck, his lips flush against your own. You slowly pulled away, but only when you absolutely needed air. Both of you were unable to open your eyes for a few seconds after the kiss, but you couldn't hold back the words that tumbled out of your mouth. ∙ "You kiss by th’ book" You spoke quietly, your voice still hoarse and breathless from the actions before. He rolls his eyes playfully, running his thumb over your bottom lip. ∙ "Now is not the time for Shakespeare, Y/N." He whispers, smiling down at you before leaning in once again. ∙ yoo pt 2 is out! ok so if u noticed, the 1st paragraph (the shakespeare one) kinda foreshadows the kiss so if u noticed that ur cool. ∙ wanted to get this 1 out quick bc finals are coming up on friday and ill be too busy studying.

∙ ok byebye! drink water.

valerie x.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Only Friends Dream On trailer proving some of my firmly held beliefs about the original series.

The narrative and writers didn't hate or punish Boston. His friends did. Monogamous cultural standards did. His father's prominent political position did. But the narrative never did. When a story's ending is thronged by a character's absence, to lift a phrase from Marilynne Robinson's final sentence in Housekeeping, the absence was not signifying condemnation. Interesting that the Dream On trailer uses Romeo and Juliet, because I had just been thinking about that play as an example to parallel with Only Friends where the characters deaths and absence at the end signify the wrong-headedness of everyone else. All this is to say, the bitch is back! Neo's appearance as Boston in the trailer tells us that yes it's gonna be messy but also that Boston is beloved (Jojo has stated as much explictly).

Only Friends was a commentary on the BL genre in relation to queer media genres. I won't go into the particulars of my theory about the allegories here, but Dream On is diving deeper into the commentary by being directly about the drama behind the scenes of BL dramas lol.

Only Friends did not depict or view committed partnership as a happily ever after. Dream On is about to give us a bunch of couples in messy established relationships rather than the original series arcs around coming together *wink wink*. The EarthMix casting is beyond exceptional, since they are the most highly rumored to be an actual couple. Then we get Ohm Pawat and Gawin who both have sorted through BL partners like few others in the business, and Ohm's especially have been associated with scandal and mess. If you think the ending of Only Friends with the three established couples opening their business was the writers' idea of a happy ending, the Dream On trailer is here to tell you that you're sorely mistaken. The mess continues well beyond saying let's be exclusive.

The writers of Only Friends did not see monogamy as the perfect answer or sustainable for everyone, and Dream On is about to show us how wonderful and messy that can be.

[7nessasaryevils]

Sell me on Bad Buddy, I've been blowing off watching it and I saw how many fics you've written for it. Is it worth getting into?

Yes. The most emphatic yes I could ever give.

BBS was a cultural reset in terms of BL because we circumvented a lot of those annoying tropes that we hated in BL’s: miscommunication as breakup reasons, husband/wife labels, the girl who causes problems, lack of lesbians and a lot more. It also discussed homophobia in society uniquely… by that I mean you don’t even realize we’re discussing it.

You have interesting characters that do grow, characters that fuck up and learn from their mistakes, characters that become your ultimate fave in a second. You also have the insane chemistry and acting prowess of both Ohm Pawat and Nanon Korapat. Their emotional beats are fucking fantastic and so is their comedic timing. And the direction of P’Aof was chef’s kiss. Even the product placement is so goddamn well done that when I see those products now, all I can remember is BBS.

Bad Buddy was the peak of GMMTV’s projects and after it, nothing has come close.

It was Romeo and Juliet but a million times better and it will forever be one of my favourite series. Of course, it is not without its flaws. There is only one critique I will hear against it: not saying what cause no spoilies from me even if the show has been out for… fuck me is it three years?? - but other than that, BBS was perfect and it was the epitome of what a good BL story could do.

This is an entirely unbiased opinion of course 🤣♥️🥰

[flower1622]

From what i saw people commenting about PJO, i made some different opinions from Rick and the fandom:

. "Percy is the most powerful"

Percy is still a mortal, he gets tired and also could be defeated by the gods (especially his father), Typhon (if I'm not mistaken), the cabins of Hypnos, Hecate, Zeus and Hades or maybe Dionysus too. Who knows? I think that any character/cabin with a good strategy could win from Percy.

. "Annabeth is the most intelligent"

Even though she is daughter of Athena, from what people commented, there are other characters that are or can be smarter than her many times.

. "Percabeth is the best ship"

I already made posts about this ship and I find the couple a little toxic sometimes with red flags. I like to watch the version from the series because they seem more mature and I love the way Percy cares about Annabeth. However, Annabeth can have some questionable actions towards Percy.

. "He could be saved"

I don't remember many things about Luke, but from what some people commented, I guess that Luke would have joined Kronos by the same way. He kinda seems arrogant and a little pyscho. Maybe if Thalia had survived when they were kids....I don't know.

. "Perachel, Pernico and many other ships with Percy (that are not Percabeth) are horrible"

I don't agree because everyone can ship Percy with any other character. If the fandom doesn't like when people outside it judge the fandom because they only ship Percabeth, the best way is to give voice to multishipper fans. Respect always! If someone doesn't like Pernico because of age, that's also okay. Others should respect your decision. But, Solangelo wouldn't be very different either from Pernico. Rachel is a good option for Percy. She seems to really care about him even though they don't know each other very well. I think the hate on her is totally desnecessary. In my opinion, there are better ships than Percabeth.

. "Jason is boring"

I don't know the character because I didn't read HOO, but from what people commented...he doesn't seem so bad. He seems a nice person that cares about others and tries to do what is right. So, I don't understand the hate on him either.

. "Leo and Calypso are toxic because of age"

I don't think an age difference would result in a couple being toxic. Again, I didn't read HOO. So, I don't know the characters, but if the problem is about age, I guess people wouldn't like Solangelo or a vampire romance.

. "Rick likes to kill blonde guys"

It's funny to see Rick using a blonde boy as the protagonist (who isn't blonde) in his series.

. "Solangelo and Percabeth had the best chemistry"

Although I like Solangelo a little better than Percabeth, I don't think the two ships had a great development. Sorry! Percy and Nico also had more chemistry with other characters than with their own partners.

. "Percabeth had the best enemies to lovers story"

Romeo and Juliet - We don't exist

Percy and Thalia - We don't exist

Percy and Clarisse - We don't exist

Percy and Jason - We don't exist

Percy and Luke - We don't exist

Percy and Nico - We don't exist

. " It's so cute when Percy tries to get well with Athena because of Annabeth"

Am I the only one that find this relationship boring between these two? I think Percy would have a more interesting relationship with other gods like Hades, Ares or even Zeus...

."Annabeth was only rude to Rachel because she was jealous"

Alright. So, if we ever feel jealous, it's okay to be rude to other people, even if they are being nice to us and we don't even know them.

Annabeth can be arrogant and for these kind of people, they like to have control over everything. When something happens that wasn't in their plans, they get mad. Rachel happened to be one of those things she couldn't control. Percy wasn't even Annabeth's boyfriend at that time and she already was possessive of him, but that would explain her stalking him. This usually happens when someone gets obsessed with something (like in Annabeth's case). There are people who love this, but in real life they wouldn't like to have someone too possessive of them or they are this kind of obsessed people. I have these two possibilites on my mind since some of them see themselves in Annabeth's questionable actions towards her partner. So, I really wouldn't like to know how they really are in a relationship because real life tends to be ten times worse than the fictional world. Coming back to Annabeth with Rachel...she even calls the girl "just a human" in front of Percy (her future boyfriend) who has a human mother that he loves very much, thanks! But, I got curious. Isn't Annabeth human too?

I know she can be a demigod, but without powers, she is not that different from a human. In the world, there are very intelligent humans like Annabeth. So, I don't get Annabeth's words. I got this part about Rachel with a post here on Tumblr by a page that showed many moments with Annabeth and Percy from the books.

. "Annabeth is the queen and everyone should obey and bow to her"

There are some people who think like this and my reaction is just...

I think Annabeth could be one...in neverland. The lost boys don't study. They obey Peter Pan because he has the knowledge. Annabeth has knowledge and intelligence. She would do well there teaching the kids. She even could take Percy with her. He would love the place. Both would stay young forever. Unfortunately, they don't exist in real life, so it would be pretty hard to visit them and bow, along with Peter, Percy and the lost boys to the new queen of neverland. Sorry! I wish many characters were real, with some exceptions of course.

. " If Percy can't trust Annabeth, he can't trust anyone else"

He needs help.

. "Annabeth is Percy's weakness"

Does he have a family? A best friend? A brother? Friends? 🤔