#prince reve art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

journeydb · 4 years

Text

June 1 2019 Paris

This faux tennis ball, made of flowers, was really as big as it appears! There were many people staying in the hotel who are attending the French Open at Roland Garros stadium, and perhaps the tournament organizers wanted to attract others with this form of publicity for the tennis tournament.

After working out this morning in the gym we went to lunch with Mike and Carolina at a very nice brasserie, where we dined al fresco, and ate a delicious lunch. Carolina and Michael ordered this scrumptious dessert and we all had a bite. Then we walked off our lunch over to the Georges Pompidou art museum, which has been one of our favorites in the city.

This is the view of the city from the terrace of the Pompidou. I love the photo I took of Michael and Carolina, in which they look like the quintessential Parisian couple.

I did NOT expect to fine teepees (tipis) inside the museum, but there they were in the children’s section, looking much more Parisienne than American!

I love coming here and seeing works by my favorite painters, mostly Impressionists, as well as new masters each time we visit. Above is “Luxe, Calme et Volupte” which was painted in 1904 by Henri Matisse. It colorful, which is definitely Matisse’s style, but also a bit more surrealistic than most of his works. If it isn’t obvious that it is a nudist picnic on the banks of a beautiful lake, perhaps now you can see why it’s called “voluptuous”. According to Wikipedia:

“Henri Émile Benoît Matisse (31 December 1869 – 3 November 1954) was a French artist, known for both his use of color and his fluid and original draftsmanship. He was a draftsman, print-maker, and sculptor, but is known primarily as a painter. Matisse is commonly regarded, along with Pablo Picasso, as one of the artists who best helped to define the revolutionary developments in the visual arts throughout the opening decades of the twentieth century, responsible for significant developments in painting and sculpture.

The intense colorism of the works he painted between 1900 and 1905 brought him notoriety as one of the Fauves (wild beasts). Many of his finest works were created in the decade or so after 1906, when he developed a rigorous style that emphasized flattened forms and decorative pattern. In 1917, he relocated to a suburb of Nice on the French Riviera, and the more relaxed style of his work during the 1920s gained him critical acclaim as an upholder of the classical tradition in French painting. After 1930, he adopted a bolder simplification of form. When ill health in his final years prevented him from painting, he created an important body of work in the medium of cut paper collage.”

This is “La Reve”, or “The Dream”, also by Matisse, which he painted in 1935 and it’s clear he is very taken by the female form. Maybe she is dreaming of the picnic, which inspired him to paint the “Luxe” painting five years later!

This is an early Matisse, painted in the spring of 1914, called “Interieur, bocal de poisson rouges” or “Interior, fish bowl with red fish”. It’s a bit less colorful and surrealistic, more impressionistic than his later works.

I find it interesting that Matisse first started to paint in 1889, after his mother brought him art supplies during a period of convalescence following an attack of appendicitis. He discovered "a kind of paradise" as he later described it, and decided to become an artist, deeply disappointing his father, who wanted him to become a lawyer. I wonder what might have happened to him if he had never had the appendicitis? We might have missed out on all the beautiful works of art he created when he found his true calling.

“Figure decoratif sur on fond ornemental” or “Decorative figure on an Oriental rug” , painted from 1925-1926, is one of my favorites. Again we see the richness of the colors, the natural theme with fruits and plants, and the female form, all very sensuous and alluring.

I would never have thought this was a Matisse until I read about his draftsman days. It’s called “La Mer” or “The Ocean” and now I can see sea creatures, plankton, and coral in it. It’s quite different than anything of his that I’ve ever seen.

This is “Improvisation” by Vassily Kandinsky, painted in 1909. I like the bold colors and the horse and rider remind me of a superhero, with a cape, although perhaps it’s a princess. That’s the thing about surrealism, things aren’t always what they seem.

Here are two other Kandinskys and they are both a riot of color and so abstract I can’t see a single thing in it which looks like anything I recognize as “real”. But I like the way they flow and the way the shapes work together in a harmonious whole in both.

Robert and Sonia DeLaunay are a couple who are both famous painters. I saw them for the first time at the Pompidou when we were here in 2015 with friends from Boulder.

“Robert Delaunay (12 April 1885 – 25 October 1941) was a French artist who, with his wife Sonia Delaunay and others, co-founded the Orphism art movement, noted for its use of strong colours and geometric shapes. His later works were more abstract. His key influence related to bold use of colour and a clear love of experimentation with both depth and tone. “

“Le Bal Bullier” by Sonia Delaunay roughly translates to “a crowded party”.

“La Jeune Italienne” meaning “the young Italian” by Sonia DeLaunay is much more subdued than most of her other works.

Robert DeLaunay’s “Manege de Cochon” makes me a bit dizzy with all the colors and swirls, but, no surprise, because manege means merry-go-round!

After visiting the museum for two hours we had tea in the colorful, ‘50s era tearoom. All the pink was a bit much but VERY French and stylish.

“Le Marais ("The Marsh") is a historic district in Paris, France. Long the aristocratic district of Paris, it hosts many outstanding buildings of historic and architectural importance. It spreads across parts of the 3rd and 4th arrondissements (neighborhoods) in Paris (on the Rive Droite, or Right Bank, of the Seine). Once shabby, the district has been rehabilitated and now sports trendy shopping and restaurants in streets such as Rue des Francs-Bourgeois and Rue des Rosiers....

During the late 18th century, the district was no longer the most fashionable district for the nobility, yet it still kept its reputation of being an aristocratic area. By that time, only minor nobles and a few more powerful nobles, such as the Prince de Soubise, lived there. The Place des Vosges remained a place for nobles to meet. The district fell into despair after the French Revolution, and was therefore abandoned by the nobility completely, and would remain so until the present day.

After the French Revolution, the district was no longer the aristocratic district it had been during the 17th and 18th centuries. Because of this, the district became a popular and active commercial area, hosting one of Paris' main Jewish communities.[citation needed] At the end of the 19th century and during the first half of the 20th,[ambiguous] the district around the rue des Rosiers, referred to as the "Pletzl", welcomed many Eastern European Jews (Ashkenazi) who reinforced the district's clothing specialization.[clarification needed][citation needed] During World War II the Jewish community was targeted by the Nazis who were occupying France.[clarification needed][citation needed] As of today the rue des Rosiers remains a major centre of the Paris Jewish community, which has made a comeback since the 1990s.”

This neighborhood of Le Marais was celebrating Gay Pride Week with a flourish! Carolina first noticed the fascinating pastries in the pastry shop in front of her and Bruce and, on closer inspection, I appreciated their laughter.

If you might have thought these pastries were rockets, look again!

Our concierge recommended an excellent Italian restaurant, Mamo Italian, within walking distance, so we had dinner there and very impressed by the decor and the quality and variety of the dishes.

How nice to come back to the comfortable suite after a long day on the town and sink into the cozy sheets, dreaming of the adventures to come.

1 note · View note

europeansdomusicalsbetter · 6 years

Text

RULES: ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTIONS THEN TAG OTHER PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER.

i was tagged by the amazing Ella @allofmylovelove

I tag: @la-princesse-incongrue, @the-right-hand-of-light, @vitaldose and other people because I’m blanking on who to tag as I always do

1. How tall are you? 5′9″ I think????

2. What color are your eyes? blue/green

3. Do you wear contacts and/or glasses? nope, I’m the only one in my immediate family who doesn’t so I’ve accepted someday I’ll have to

4. Do you wear braces? I did in middle/high school

5. What is your fashion style? now isn’t that the million dollar question. It’s vintage dresses, corsets, cardigans, my chunky Scottish wool sweater, t-shirts, and a necklace almost every day

6. When were you born? August 2nd!

7. How old are you? 21, can you believe that I can’t

8. Do you have any siblings? I’ve got an older sister (who is the best)

9. What are your favorite subjects? Oh boy. Art history and medieval studies, broadly.

10. What are your favorite movies? Brooklyn, Curious George, Prince of Egypt, Sleeping Beauty, About Time, the 2015 Cinderella, Rise of the Guardians, and the 2005 Pride and Prejudice and we’ll leave it there for now

11. What are your favorite pastimes? writing and handicrafts, I’m super into knitting and sewing and I’m taking a class in jewelry making next semester that I am SO EXCITED FOR

12. Do you have any regrets? I’ve got a few, yeah

13. What is your dream job? here’s the thing, I don’t have one? I just want to do something that makes me happy and lets me keep a garden and pets and windchimes and so on. I don’t really know what that job would be.

14. Would you like to get married? yeah. If I find someone I want to be with the rest of my life, it’s pretty important for me to have that partnership officially made in the eyes of God. So yeah, I’d like to get married.

15. Do you want kids? how many? Not of my body, absolutely no part of it sounds fun from conception to childbirth all of it sounds awful. But it has been my plan since I was like 12 to adopt teenagers or just older kids generally.

17. How many countries have you visited? 15

18. What was your scariest dream? oh boy. I had to fall asleep the night of the 2016 presidential election bc time zones and I had a dream about monsters that pretended to be human and when they gained your trust caught you in a web of oil and cracked open your chest while you were still alive to eat your heart. I woke up knowing who won without being told.

19. Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other? No

Put your playlist on shuffle and without skipping list the first 15 songs 🎶

I don’t really use playlists, I’ve got one but it isn’t even 15 songs, so I’ll just use my whole music library

Ever After - Into the Woods

Your Obedient Servant - Hamilton

Be Still, My Soul - BYU Vocal Point

La-Di-Da Carnival - Disneyland Paris Parades

We Know - Hamilton

Any Moment/Moments in the Woods - Into the Woods

Tant qu’on reve encore - Le Roi Soleil

Dry Grass & Shadows - Alela Diane

Il Moro (Overture) - Antonio Salieri

Salon Apokalypse II - Rudolf Affaire Mayerling

Mon Combat (Tir Nam Beo) - La Legende du Roi Arthur

No One Is Alone - Into the Woods

Farmer Refuted - Hamilton

L’angiolina (overture) - Antonio Salieri

Herr, wenn ich nur dich habe - The Rose Ensemble

#about me #quite a lot of hamilton and into the woods isn't there #huh #long post

4 notes · View notes

yasdnilmac · 4 years

Text

2019 favourites

Albums

1. Angel Du$t: Pretty Buff (Roadrunner)

2. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Ghosteen (Bad Seed Ltd.)

3. Sorry Girls: Deborah (Arbutus)

4. Weyes Blood: Titanic Rising (Sub Pop)

5. Men I Trust: Oncle Jazz (Return To Analog)

6. Aldous Harding: Designer (4AD)

7. Clairo: Immunity (The FADER Label)

8. Charli XCX: Charli (Atlantic)

9. Royal Trux: White Stuff / Pink Stuff (Fat Possum)

10. Carly Rae Jepsen: Dedicated (604/SchoolBoy)

11. The National: I Am Easy To Find (4AD)

12. Vanishing Twin: The Age of Immunology (Fire)

13. Purple Mountains: s/t (Drag City)

14. Tyler, the Creator: IGOR (A Boy Is A Gun)

15. Vampire Weekend: Father of the Bride (Columbia)

16. Ariana Grande: thank u, next (Republic)

17. Young Guv: GUV I & II (Run For Cover)

18. Drugdealer: Raw Honey (Mexican Summer)

19. Teebs: Anicca (Brainfeeder)

20. Nilüfer Yanya: Miss Universe (ATO)

21. Tengger: Spiritual (Extra Noir) / Spiritual 2 (Beyond Beyond Is Beyond)

22. Sharon Van Etten: Remind Me Tomorrow (Jagjaguwar)

23. Drab Majesty: Modern Mirror (Dais)

24. Caroline Polachek: Pang (Perpetual Novice)

25. Private Agenda: Il De Reve (Lo)

26. Taylor Swift: Lover (Republic)

27. oso oso: Basking in the Glow (Triple Crown)

28. Pretty Matty: Pretty Matty (Get Better)

29. black midi: Schlagenheim (Rough Trade)

30. Deerhunter: Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? (4AD)

31. Empath: Active Listening: Night on Earth (Get Better)

32. Better Oblivion Community Center: s/t (Dead Oceans)

33. Badge Époque Ensemble: s/t (Telephone Explosion)

34. Bart: Today, Tomorrow, & The Next Day (idée fixe)

35. Crumb: Jinx (Crumb)

36. Synkro: Images (Apollo)

37. Anna Meredith: FIBS (Black Prince Fury)

38. Corridor: Junior (Sub Pop)

39. Flore Laurentienne: Volume 1 (Costume)

40. Jayda G: Significant Changes (Ninja Tune)

41. Jacques Greene: Dawn Chorus (LuckyMe/Arts & Crafts)

42. Le SuperHomard: Meadow Lane Park (Elefant Spain)

43. The Twilight Sad: It Won/t Be Like This All the Time (Rock Action)

44. Barrie: Happy To Be Here (Winspeak)

45. Phillipi & Rodrigo: Paciencia (Deewee)

46. Death & Vanilla: Are You A Dreamer? (Fire)

47. Bodywash: Comforter (Luminelle)

48. Panda Bear: Buoys (Domino)

49. Pedro the Lion: Phoenix (Polyvinyl)

50. Skinny Pelembe: Dreaming Is Dead Now (Brownswood)

Tracks

1. Sorry Girls: One That You Want

2. Normani: Motivation

3. Clairo: Bags

4. Nasty Cherry: What Do You Like In Me

5. Lauv feat. Anne-Marie: fuck, i’m lonely

6. Charli XCX feat. Christine and the Queens: Gone

7. Aldous Harding: The Barrel

8. Daphni feat. Paradise: Sizzling

9. Ariana Grande: NASA

10. Grace Ives: Mirror

11. Weyes Blood: Everyday

12. Taylor Swift: The Man

13. Jai Paul: He

14. BTS feat. Halsey: Boy With Luv

15. FKA twigs: Cellophane

16. Carly Rae Jepsen: Too Much

17. The National: Rylan

18. Vampire Weekend: This Life

19. Grimes x i_o: Violence

20. Jessie Ware: Adore You

21. Kesha feat. Big Freedia: Raising Hell

22. Purple Mountains: All My Happiness Is Gone

23. ROSALÍA: Aute Cuture

24. 100 gecs: Money Machine

25. Caroline Polachek: So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings

26. Lauv feat. Troye Sivan: i’m so tired…

27. Georgia: About Work the Dancefloor

28. Magdalena Bay: Mine

29. The 1975: Frail State of Mind

30. Shawn Mendes: If I Can’t Have You

31. Angel Du$t: Big Ass Love

32. Tame Impala: Patience

33. Taylor Swift: Cruel Summer

34. Lil Mosey: Live This Wild

35. Jenny Hval: Ashes To Ashes

36. Kitten: Memphis

37. Claud: Easy

38. Helado Negro: Running

39. Caribou: Home

40. Teebs feat. Panda Bear: Studie

41. Post Malone: Circles

42. DJDS: Magic Loop

43. Tyler, the Creator: I THINK

44. Banoffee feat. Empress Of: Tennis Fan

45. PUP: Kids

46. Charli XCX feat. Lizzo: Blame It On Your Love

47. Deerhunter: Whatever Happens To People?

48. Royal Trux: Suburban Junky Lady (Ariel Pink Remix)

49. Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein: Starcourt

50. Little Jesus: Los Años Maravillosos

EPs

1. Dry Cleaning: Sweet Princess/Boundary Road Snacks and Drinks (It’s OK)

2. Malibu: One Life (Joyful Noise)

3. Magdalena Bay: mini mix vol. 1 (Luminelle)

4. SASSY 009: KILL SASSY 009 (Luft)

5. Ducks Unlimited: Get Bleak (Bobo Integral)

6. Skee Mask: 808BB/ISS004 (Ilian Tape)

7. Daphni: Sizzling (Jialong)

8. girl in red: Chapter 2 (marie ulven)

9. Koffee: Rapture (Promised Land)

10. Octo Octa: For Lovers (Technicolour)

Compilations and Reissues

Autoclave: s/t (Dischord)

Beth Gibbons & Rustin Man: Out of Season (UMC)

Dinosaur Jr.: Green Mind / Where You Been / Without A Sound (Cherry Red)

Duster: Capsule Losing Contact (Numero Group)

Emerson: If You Need Me Call Me (Kalita)

Galerie Stratique: Horizzzons (Public House)

Greg Belson's Divine Disco Volume Two: Obscure Gospel Disco from 1979 to 1987 (Cultures of Soul)

Hefner: Fidelity Wars (Where It’s At Is Where You Are)

His Name Is Alive: His Name Is Alive All The Mirrors In The House (Home Recordings 1979 - 1986) (Disciples)

Insides: Euphoria (Beacon Sound)

Jonathan Fire*Eater: Tremble Under Boom Lights / Wolf Songs For Lambs (Third Man)

R.E.M.: Monster (Craft)

Royal Trux: Quantum Entanglement (Fat Possum)

Seaside Lovers: Memories In Beach House (Ship To Shore)

Sloan: Navy Blues (murderecords)

Stereolab: Transient Random-Noise Bursts with Announcements / Mars Audiac Quintet / Emperor Tomato Ketchup / Dots and Loops / Cobra and Phases Group Play Voltage in the Milky Night / Sound-Dust / Margerine Eclipse (Duophonic)

Steve Hiett: Down On The Road By The Beach (Be With/Efficient Space)

Supercrush: Never Let You Drift Apart (Debt Offensive)

Super Furry Animals: Guerilla (BMG)

Team Dresch: Personal Best / Captain My Captain (Jealous Butcher)

The Blue Nile: Hats (The Blue Nile)

The Springfields: Singles 1986-1991 (Slumberland)

Thrush Hermit: Clayton Park (New Scotland)

Various: A short illness from which he never recovered (Blackest Ever Black)

Various: Brought To Light (FatCat)

Various: Pacific Breeze: Japanese City Pop AOR & Boogie 1976-1986 (Light In The Attic)

Various: The Daisy Age (Ace)

Various: The Sound Of Love International 002 (Love International)

1 note · View note

diyunho · 7 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Apart”

When you sent him the invitation to your wedding, you didn’t actually expect The Joker to show up. But here he is and now you have to deal with the situation; you are usually such a good actress, but…this is different. Very different.

“You came,” a smile appears on the corner of your lips as J gets out of the car and the valet takes it away, leaving your ex in front of you with a wide smirk on his face.

“Of course I came, I wouldn’t miss this now, would I?” he opens his arms and you go to give him a quick hug. “Hi, Doll,” he quickly pecks your cheek and you hold him for a few more seconds before breaking the embrace. You didn’t spoke or touch each other in about half a year.

You take a deep breath, analyzing him and start walking up the stairs towards the mansion while you try to keep the conversation going without getting awkward:

“You still look the same J,” you state the obvious and he snickers, amused.

“I never change; you should know that by now. Would you look at this place,” he struggles to impress himself. “It’s a fortress, took me a while to find it. At least I know my girl is well taken care of, hm?”

“I’m…I’m not your girl anymore,” you whisper, brushing off the weirdness of his statement, but you know he just talks like this all the time anyway.

“Right, thanks for the reminder,” he elbows you, scoffing, and you ignore what he just said and point towards the huge property, excited:

“Let me give you a tour.”

“Where is the groom- to-be? Can’t wait to meet him; he’d better make you happy otherwise he will have to deal with me,” he keeps on yammering and you take his arm, not reacting to the last part of his tirade, guiding him through the maze of the outdoor gardens.

“He is away with business; he will be back in two days for the wedding. You’re the first guest to arrive, the rest are coming tomorrow.”

“You sure hired a lot of people for the event, Pumpkin. I can tell it’s going to be a huge wedding.”

“It will be,” you giggle, watching everybody running around, setting up flowers and the humongous tent where the gathering will happen.

“Wow, I already like it, no expense was spared,” The Joker addresses you, witnessing a few things coming together in a very nice way.

“Miss Y/N,” someone approaches, “do you want more red roses or pink ones?”

“Red,” J answers and it pleases you. “It’s her favorite color.” You also nod a yes and the guy walks away, trying to count how many more to add now. “Who else is coming?” he asks, frowning when a waiter passes you by in a hurry. “ I don’t like the way that man looked at you, want me to take care of it?”

You start laughing, caressing his shoulder.

“Noooo, lets’ not do that, it’s all good.”

It surprises you how much effort you put into trying not to look nervous, you are usually such a good actress, but…this is somewhat different.

“A lot of people will come, you know some of them,” you show him the guest list on a nearby table. “Don’t worry, you’ll seat next to me so you don’t really have to small talk with the others too much. I know you hate that.”

“I sure do,” he grins, kissing your hand and you sigh, continuing to pace alongside him in perfect silence for a few moments.

“Oh, no, it’s starting to rain,” you point out, looking at the gloomy clouds. “Thank goodness the tent is up so it won’t rain inside; they can still continue to decorate, it really needs to be finished by tomorrow night. Let’s go in the mansion, I’ll show you what we got.”

*******************

As soon as he steps in and sees the crystal chandelier he looks in your eyes, puckering his lips:

“Same one we have at the penthouse!”

“We had,” you correct him but The Joker didn’t get the fact you were referring to his statement involving the two of you. Or maybe he pretended.

“No, it’s still there, Doll. You always had good taste in decorating so I kept it.”

“That’s nice,” you avert your gaze, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

You walk him around, explaining what’s what, just like a well learned lesson.

“I’ll be damned,” he stops, stunned. “You kept it?!”

The enormous painting you two snatched from Gotham’s art museum two years ago is the centerpiece in the living room. He didn’t want to go because he couldn’t care less about stuff like that but in the end you convinced him to steal it together. You had it at the penthouse until…you left and took it with you. Now it’s here.

“You know how much I love it, Mister J,” you tease him by calling his full name, which you only did when he got in trouble. “I could never get rid of it.”

“I can understand that; I know your mind gets set on something and then you don’t let go,” he mocks, starting to walk upstairs.

*********************

“And, ummm… this is the master bedroom,” you present it, a bit uncomfortable.

“It’s so you, Y/N, I can see it everywhere. Look at the bed, reminds me of the one we have at the penthouse,” he points towards it and you fix his mistake:

“We had.”

“No, it’s still there,” he continues and you are still not sure if he really doesn’t get what you’re saying, but you don’t want to insist on the issue. No point really.

“I wonder if…You do have a mirror here too!” he sits on the bed, looking up and sure it’s there. He lies down on the pillows, gesturing you to come by him and you humor him. “Remember ours?”

You scoot over by him, smiling and grab his hand, looking up at the mirror too.

“Yes, fun times. We had our moments, right?” you have to agree, turning your head towards him.

“U-hum,” he replies, taking your fingers to his lips and kissing them, absent minded. You squirm under his touch and have to break the spell J apparently is unaware he still holds upon you.

“Why did you push me away?” you suddenly ask, squeezing his hand tighter.

“I push everybody away, it doesn’t mean that’s my intent,” he replies and for once he sounds sincere.

“Hey, wanna see my wedding dress?” you hurry and get up, heading towards the walk in closet.

“Might as well,” he lifts his shoulders up, resigned. He doesn’t really want to see it but he can’t upset you now that you are finally on speaking terms again. It takes you about 10 minutes to get ready and step outside, anxious for his reaction.

“My God, Princess, you look so beautiful,” he has to admit, jumping from the bed, coming to meet you in the middle of the room. “Turn around,” The Joker suggests and you slowly spin so he can see your gorgeous dress. “I really like the gown, it suits you.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, playing around with the delicate fabric because you feel edgy.

“My Princess always looks beautiful anyway,” he unravels his silver teeth, chuckling.

“I’m…I’m not your Princess anymore J,” you step towards him, fighting with all the feelings inside of you.

“You’ll always be my Princess,” he simply states and then rolls his eyes. “Come on, you’re gonna cry on me? You know I always talk like this,” he makes fun of you, seeing your lips quivering but has to admit something makes him uneasy.

Fuck it all, you think, deciding on the spot and go kiss him which surprises The Joker and in the same time it doesn’t.

“I’m not sure if I like diamonds anymore,” you clearly enunciate and he freezes with his hands around your waist.

This is the phrase you two decided to use when you were together as a warning for grave danger, just in case you couldn’t say anything else and you wanted the other to know something is up without getting busted.

“Well, that’s a first, Doll,” he lets you go, understanding someone is listening, carefully looking around as you put your finger on your lips, signaling him to be quiet. You point towards the corners of the room, quickly scribbling on a piece of paper that you stash in his pocket.

“Yes, I am so bored with diamonds these days,” you try to control your voice from breaking and you hug him tight, barely whispering in his ear: “Run! A left, two rights around the stairs. Don’t take the car, just run!” and you drag him towards the door, peeking outside to make sure nobody is passing by. He has such an intrigued expression on his face and you cover his mouth, shaking your head as a no.

“Ssstttt,” you soundlessly shush him. “Don’t let anybody see you, they’re all undercover! Go!” you whisper one last time before pushing him away and he doesn’t linger anymore but signals you to follow.

You mutter a NO, watching him walk as he turns around one more time to see you in your wedding dress. He takes the corner and he’s gone.

What the hell is going on? The Joker wonders, carefully sneaking around, hiding behind a wall so he can read the piece of paper you placed in his pocket:

“I’m not at Arkham or Belle Reve, not sure where. Warn as many as you can not to come. After you get out, keep left under the trees until you get to the main road. Don’t let them catch you.”

***********************

It was a difficult break up, at least as far as you were concerned. You got sick and tired of everything and left because he didn’t seem to give a damn anyway. You were on your own for about a month when you got ambushed during a heist and couldn’t escape. You were taken to a place you haven’t been before and they were sure thrilled to see they got The Joker’s girlfriend; well, ex, but you didn’t tell them that part; they found out on their own.

You were sentenced to 40 years in prison but offered a deal: if you help the Secret Service catch the elusive Clown Prince of Crime and many others, your verdict will be reduced to only 10 years. It was such a sweet deal and they spared no effort in planning the perfect stakeout: for 3 months they put everything together, using your fake wedding as the bait: they wanted to get as many most wanted criminals as possible with minimum casualties, away from the public eye on that hidden property, rehearsing day and night to make everything seem like the real deal. They knew many would come to the occasion if you invite them. And you agreed, sure hoping J won’t show up. When he did, you didn’t want to care but things didn’t go as planned. You and your stupid feelings for him; you always pay for them no matter what.

***************************

Of course the deal went sour and they retaliated for what you did: your sentence changed to life in prison and you weren’t treated nicely, to say the least. You had days when you regretted your stupid decision, crying yourself to sleep in the dark, cold cell. And some days were better, hoping he might find you and get you out of there. Hours, weeks, months and then two years passed with heartbreaking solitude and doubt, and you finally realized The Joker will never save you. Even if you helped that day, knowing him he probably hated you with passion after tricking him with that well devised scheme and he is not the one to forgive such transgression. Or maybe he just can’t find the location. You tried to cope but the thought of never getting out of there was slowly driving you insane. How you missed the outside world and the freedom of doing what you please.

And you missed him…You couldn’t get out of your mind that last time he looked at you. You wanted so badly to run with him, but had to stay behind to hold them up, pretending he’s still there for a while to give him enough time to flee…Like he appreciated the sacrifice…Too late now for remorse, yet you can’t hide from yourself.

You slowly chew on your bread, deep in thought, sitting on the mattress, examining your skinny hands. You got so much thinner due to the special menu and treatment you were subjected in the last two years. Fit for a Queen, as they like to laugh at you.

“Oh, great,” you pull out the piece of plastic out of your mouth, unnerved you are always given such disgusting food. This is where you usually stop eating, nauseated at the crap you find in the meals. You glance at it for a second before wanting to toss it on the floor when you notice something.

You have to bring it really close to your eyes since you are not allowed to wear your contacts.

“I’m here. Cover your ears,” you read and gasp, dumbfounded, having a hard time processing what just happened.

The loud explosion to the right wall of your cell throws you to the ground and your ears start ringing .You struggle to get up, covered in dust and debris, stumbling to keep your balance, dizzy from the blast.

You stare at the gap in your wall, seeing so many bodies moving around on the other side, not knowing what to do.

“Would you hurry up, woman?! I don’t have all day!” you hear the familiar voice and J creeps inside your prison, coughing and trying to move the flying ashes out of his way.

You can’t even move and stare at him wearing your favorite suit, starting to cry in a frenzy.

He sighs and comes in front of you, his blue gaze going up and down your body, growling when he realizes how scrawny you are.

“So you didn’t get married, hm?” he bites on his lip and you barely manage to utter, whimpering:

“N-no…” and you continue bawling , rushing in his arms and he hugs you, taking each other in for a few seconds. “You…you look the same,” you cry your eyes out on his shoulder, hoping you are not hallucinating from the meds.

“I never change, you should know that by now,” he purrs in your hair, ecstatic he found you. He’s been looking forever; my God you were well locked away or what?!

“Sir, we need to get out of here, they’re coming!” one of the mercenaries yells and J lifts you up in his arms, carrying you outside. The sun hits you and you hide your face in his chest, wincing in pain.

“My eyes,” you complain, wiping your tears and slowly readjusting to natural light, fastly blinking to make it better. “You can put me down, I think I can walk,” you turn his face towards you so you can see him.

“Queens don’t walk,” he grumbles, kissing your forehead, continuing to carry you.

“I really missed you,” you confess on the verge of crying again. “I thought you will never come.”

“Meh, I was bored staring at that chandelier all day,” he tries to joke and you sense his hands holding you tighter.

You sniffle, smiling for the first time in so many months and ask when he looks down at you:

“We still have it?”

“We do,” The Joker answers, walking faster as all hell breaks loose behind him.

Also read: MASTERLIST:

http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

#the joker x reader #the joker imagine #the joker fanfiction #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #jared leto #jared leto fanfiction #jared leto imagine #puddin #mister j #mistah j #mr. j #dc comics #the suicide squad #dc

558 notes · View notes

benlefrank · 5 years

Photo

Voici mes nouvelles, label chaussettes... "Petit Prince" dans mes rêves réalisés et droit dans les yeux tout en couleur, de quoi m'émerveiller jusqu'au bout des pieds 😊 Merci à toute l'équipe de @labelchaussette pour son travail de partenariat avec les artistes pour les dessins, et son éthique écologique 🌞 . . . #gratitude #mercilavie #chaussettes #label #ecologique #artisanat #art #petitprince #sourire #emerveillement #reves #simplevie #joiedevivre #couleurs #regard #textile #partage #dessin #design #conceptartist https://www.instagram.com/p/BuojZtTjBIJ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=19k5lifzek7lq

0 notes

katiebruce · 5 years

Text

year of the wildflower

I can’t believe it’s fucking February and I have yet to sit down and reflect on the end of yet another year. 2018.

Two Thousand and Eighteen.

What a glorious, glorious year you were for me. (It was the ten-year anniversary of 2008 after all, so I probably should have seen that one coming. Hindsight is a fickle beast I’ve yet to learn to tame.)

I started the year off with a lot of newness—preparing to move out of my apartment of seven years, for example.

Though I knew it was time for a new beginning, the months leading up to this move were hard for me. I felt like I was separating myself from some former version of myself; a hermit crab shedding her proverbial shell.

The moment we found Hoegarden, however, I knew it was the right choice.

Only four blocks up the street (a six-minute walk; I timed it) from my old place, it felt like the comfort of home laced with the thrill of a new start.

And so, I packed.

I purged.

And the week before I moved, I flew to India. (I am nothing if not wildly ridiculous at a seemingly predictable rate: life change? Leave the fucking country!)

I have been talking about going to India obsessively since the eleventh grade (I had learned about Holi and became obsessed with Eastern culture quickly after.)

Though I paraded around with arrogance, I was quite intimidated to plan this trip. It was something I don’t think I realized was happening until we had landed, disembarked, and had been rushed into the chaotic Delhi streets at midnight before it really hit me—that I was here, and I couldn’t be afraid.

So, I wasn’t.

I had only one bad experience that night, and I handled it—I learned to say no. As an American, millennial, feminist, I thought this was something I was already good at.

Turns out, I was not.

But I got better. And by the end of my trip, I felt so completely safe, so enamored by the sights, the smells (rich dirt moist with the smell of sweat, the sultry scent of saffron, sweetened candy from the streets…curry!) that I was sad my time was over so soon.

This trip prepared me for Morocco—the adult I had to be, the sticky situations I had to diffuse, middle eastern culture. I wandered those golden, enchanted markets thirsty for authenticity, and I always seemed to find it, for better or for worse.

There was lots of yelling. Lots of jetlag. And lots of running for flights.

But between these two trips, these two monumental events in my life, I walked away and felt growth. I felt proud of where I’d gone and what I’d seen. And that, though I was accompanied by friends (and oh, the friends we made!) I had accomplished this feat mostly alone, planning and ultimately orchestrating both trips by my lonesome, endlessly researching cultural customs, Indian cuisines and transport, Ramadan rules (because we were in Morocco during the holiday) and I had fucking succeeded.

I flew again to London (London, London, London, alwaysLondon) and Scotland and finished up my year by going to Australia.

Five continents in one year.

I spent an entire day running around Jaipur, my phone almost being stolen by a monkey, and I tried to get an Uber in a place where elephants are considered vehicles and you can order a tuk-tuk via the app.

I bathed, fed, and walked a rescued elephant—Chin Chin—and felt her two-ton belly swollen with babies (twins!) as she made me laugh by playing with my hair and squirting water on my head when I wasn’t playing with her.

I was welcomed into the home of strangers and fed a home cooked meal; the best I had in all of India.

I made friends with the soda-shop boys near our palace of an Airbnb and left them with all of my change upon leaving the country. (This would leave me completely screwed at the airport where the vendors did not accept credit cards, but alas—who am I if not starving and stressed about non-reving out of another country?)

I woke up at four in the morning and rode all the way to Agra to bask in the wonderful Taj Mahal. I dipped my toes in it’s gorgeous lakes and dreamt of a love so big someone would construct a monument to celebrate it someday that would put this silly marble slab of stone to shame.

I returned to Spain and wandered the streets of Barcelona and Madrid like a pro; how quickly three years had passed, how recently it seemed upon returning.

We flew down to Morocco and booked a famous riad with a driver and were escorted through the airport like queens (gluttons, really.) We wandered the many rooms of our new home excitedly, pretending to be princesses and bursting into wine-induced fits of laughter when the first Ramadan calls came over the loudspeaker and bellowing down into our open-aired fortress.

We wandered the gardens of Yves Saint Laurent and I impressed Lauren and Beebs with my correct pronunciation of the designer’s name (thanks, Cardi.)

We took a horse drawn carriage through Marrakech and were swindled by henna artists in the streets (it was still worth it.)

We boarded a ten-passenger caravan and took a trek that took us through the northern African mountains, the many small villages and ruins, learned about the art of rug making and sipped on delicious mint tea.

And then I was proposed to. His name was Watik. Once again, I said no. Albeit a more forceful one.

We drove directly into a sand storm and learned how to adorn our heads with a “passport to the desert” to protect us from the harsh conditions.

And then we rode camels through the fucking Sahara Desert.

We camped in giant rooms and dined under the stars (the most delicious of the tangines we had, though it’s honestly hard to pick) and listened to our guides play African drums under the moonlight.

And then we went adventuring into the night.

I remember climbing to the top of a dune, digging my toes deeper into the sand and being amazed at how bright the moonlight shone over the dessert sands.

(We watched the sunrise in the morning, and I was equally in awe of nature’s subtle beauty.)

We wandered the ancient city of Fes with our newly married friends and took in the smells of sweet mint leaf and the curing of animal hyde in the tanneries.

I took a few weeks off traveling and fucking prepared for what would be my mother’s first trip abroad: The UK.

I got to see the excitement fill her eyes upon seeing the London skyline, see some adolescent excitement light up in her upon taking her to her first protest (baby Trump riot—yes, it was as amazing as it looked on television) and watched her fall in love with old, ancient English streets, the ones I’ve loved for so many years, watch her accept my longing, my desire to make this my home, as she fell completely head over heels in love with it, too.

I drank violet gin and watched bagpipers play in the street and climbed to the highest part of Edinburgh just so I could turn around and look down at it in awe.

I watched Paul Simon say farewell, with another 500,000 fans in the royal gardens and wept with emotion when he opened his set with “America.”

I came back and saw Paramore with my strawberry, I saw St. Vincent in all her glory, Twin Peaks and First Aid Kit and even flew to Denver to see Ryan Adams play Red Rocks.

I stressed, a lot.

And yet somehow always made it through.

I celebrated my Dad’s sixtieth birthday and got to finally show him around Chicago, my home, and watch as he pieced together a new aspect of me he never seemed to understand before.

I flew to Denver to meet up with my best friend for a road trip to Salt Lake to see Panic. We cuddled and laughed and jammed and danced under the stars in beautiful Big Sky.

And then there was Australia. Rainy, jungle-esque Australia.

Noodle night in the muddy park and Aussie pizza (twice, because it really was that spectacular.)

Twin Peaks at an abandoned skate-house and teenagers blacking out around us.

Ferry rides hopped up on Nyquil. Books read in cafes.

Beautiful, beautiful Melbourne.

Lauren laughing at me because of fear of all the various vicious birds we encountered. My allergies through the roof, throat closing in the royal gardens.

Not one single fucking kangaroo.

There was San Francisco and fleet week and the Mystic Valley Band at a winery in Sonoma. (The most beautiful sunset I’d ever seen—and that wine!)

I left the country so many times this year with no more than pennies to my name, no place to stay when I landed, nothing but an inspiration and the courage to make myself show up for a flight.

I took myself to the Opera and felt bougie for sipping on black coffee the entire time and sitting alone.

I relaxed.

I found myself hiding away in my new home, no school to attend (because again, I fucking GRADUATED COLLEGE) and no trips to take and I felt… peace.

An old friend came to town and I met up with him for drinks and now Taylor is my boyfriend.

Me; a boyfriend.

Me; in love.

I held his hand at Chriskindel market and consoled him after an eventful first Thanksgiving together. I rubbed my hands through his luscious hair and kissed his forehead where the small patch of gray grows in with the eager fervor of old age. (My old man.)

I let him love me, all of me, and sat back in amazement as I lowered my walls, my protection, and let this one man weasel his way through the booby traps I had planted long before.

(He detonated them all.)

I watched, silently—though often times conflicted—as the light in his eyes grew familiar, listened as his sweet, humble snoring cooed me to sleep.

I fell in love.

And through all of the fantastic adventures 2018 took me, through every corner of the world, I did not know that what I had been looking for all along was him. My love, my prince, my sweet, sincere, annoying, handsome, smart, idiot, adorable boyfriend Taylor.

And now I feel so whole.

2018 was a big year for me—in every way imaginable. I even started grad school (I’m a masochist, I must be). But it was the last year I would be in my twenties.

In February, I turned twenty-nine and began preparing myself for the start of a new decade. I felt unaccomplished and somehow proud of what I’d done—scared yet eager to grow older.

Weeks before my birthday, I marched proudly with thousands of others through the streets of my home, my city, protesting our asshat of a president and the suppression of women’s rights. I remember walking through the streets, sign in hand, feeling like a fully actualized version of myself; I was finally the person I had always wanted to be.

It just took me longer than I had expected to get there.

My twenties were a tumultuous time (something eerily familiar about the terrible two’s, no?)

Where I lost myself and tried on new versions of myself for extended periods of time.

I dropped out of college and worked three jobs.

I moved cross-country with my best friend to live in a big city like I had always wanted to.

I became a flight attendant.

I went back to college and graduated. Then I got into fucking grad school.

I fell in love with four boys: the first, my first. The truest, the purest; a complete and total heartbreak. The second, from afar—that spark, that magnetism—now a friend engaged himself, and I couldn’t be happier for him and his wife-to-be. The third, my German—a wrong fit I tried so desperately to squish into all of my open, healing wounds. And the fourth, my love—my Taylor. My partner.

I slept with some awful people (two; M & T).

And kissed plenty more.

I lost friends I thought I’d never lose and met friends I thought I’d never have.

I discovered what it is to be broke.

Brutally, honestly, broke.

And yet I traveled.

I visited fifteen countries in those ten years and did it all on my own terms. I saw Stonehenge, the Sahara, the Taj Ma-Fucking-Hal, went to Oktoberfest, played Sega in Japan and even saw Alex Turner a whopping four times in one decade. (What a facetious little man.)

I cried in bathroom stalls and did coke in bathroom stalls and danced so much I felt invincible and once upon a time even owned the streets of Ybor.

I did acid on tinder dates and even dated a girl, my only girl, my Kelli.

I watched as my sister got engaged and our little family grew by one.

I lost my Cody, my baby, and felt his spirit in a haunted hotel in South Dakota (hi, baby.)

I wandered many foreign streets and stumbled my way through foreign languages and ordered foreign food I couldn’t pronounce the name of and didn’t like the taste of.

I went to so many concerts I’ll probably be deaf, and probably soon.

I was so surrounded by love and so alone at times I silently cried myself to sleep in a new city.

I cut off my hair, got six tattoos and went to so many different music festivals.

I was wild; I was timid. I was fierce; I was afraid. I was whole; I felt alone.

(Walt Whitman isn’t the only one who can contain multitudes.)

#personal

0 notes