Semi-motivational Quotes From Hayao Miyazaki

Semi-motivational quotes from Hayao Miyazaki

sunday savings are on hold until i get boothill 🤸🤸 his trailer did me over he's so cool

— love is (ir)rational. ft. veritas ratio

— warnings: angst and breakups

— author's note: incredibly self-indulgent and heavily influenced by tiktoks and mitski songs. the last statement is from this article so please give it a read since its very interesting !!

to say that your relationship with veritas ratio was hanging by a thread was an understatement.

you tried your hardest to sweep every argument at night when you enter his office under the rug and prayed to the aeons that he'd forget it when morning came; you never learned how to deal with confrontation, so you did what you do best: avoid the situation entirely at all cost.

playing as the fool who couldn't see the cracks in your already fragile situation with ratio but still clinged onto the tiniest of hopes that everything will be fixed. that no argument between you two would actually leave you to split paths. you always found a way to one another, a middle ground you had unspokenly created. you always made it work. you had to make it work.

“this is not going to work, [name]!” he shouts as you fight back tears.

“you don't know that! we always make it work don't we, veritas? you can't just decide stuff like this on your own!” you argue with him the best you could, but veritas ratio was a genius. 

you will never win an argument against him.

“this is hurting us. you.” he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “we can't continue like this, and you know it.”

“then continue to hurt me.” you desperately try to claw into your lover's mind. trying to keep any piece of him because it was better to not have anything at all. “i don't care if it hurts, veritas! if it's you then it's fine, i can look past it.”

you look like a scared animal, desperate for love and the need to feel something, even if it was pain.

“we'll be fine, veritas.” you clutch onto your shirt as tears pricked your eyes. “we have to! you promised me!”

ratio was a logical man. he was a genius. someone who should've been acknowledged by nous themselves. but at this very moment, he realizes that no amount of academic knowledge will compare to the flurry of the unknown emotional wreckage that is you. someone who thinks too much of love. bewitched with the prospect of love instead of their actual partner - him.

“veritas, please… we can still make this work.”

the diplomas of his achievements were a farce; a big hoax to hide the hollowness that resides within where his heart should be.

“you and i both know that we were both too far gone to save.”

ratio closes his eyes. trying his best to rid the hurt and shrinking image of you from his mind. 

“you don't know how to love yourself.” you avoided the truth to protect yourself, he traversed the universe to make the truth known. “how can you expect me to give you the love you want when you don't even know what it is?”

what an ugly pair you two make.

“that's bullshit!” you were gasping for air. scavenging your mind to try and find a way to refute him like you always do. “i want you, veritas! do you not understand that?”

“no.” he answered with a shake of his head. “no, i do not, [name].”

you feel your already broken heart crack a little more.

“that stuff is all bullshit.” your whisper now was just above whisper. “so what if what you said is true? you loved me at least didn't you?”

veritas didn't like the way you looked at him. so full of loneliness and fear. that look didn't suit you, not in the slightest.

“that's all i needed, veritas. you loved me so much i forgot what it felt like to hate myself.”

to love means to surrender intellectual control; veritas ratio cannot rationalize love even if you told him otherwise. but there was one thing you didn't tell him - one thing you refused to tell veritas ratio.

‘if your partner has inherently good qualities, but your love for them is based on a projection of your fantasy onto them, your love does not fit the qualities of the beloved that fueled your love. your love fails to be epistemically justified.’

— [name], ????. the emotion that is love.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

I AM IN SHAMBLES. SO YOUR TELLING ME, THAT SUNDAY, MY BELOVED SUNDAY, SANG ONE OF MY FAVORITE SONGS?????!!!!!?? HELLO????? 😭😭😭 the way i stared at my phone for a hot minute before realizing that it's true, this is fate right now guys. IM FATED TO GET SUNDAY !!!!!!

Who gets dibs on the chicken wing?

incandescent feelings overflow!

in which — you found yourself “forced” to dance with a man that delights in outmaneuvering you at every turn / you (really) hate aventurine

pairing — aventurine x fem!reader (no pronouns used but reader is mentioned to be wearing a gown once, otherwise it’s still written w gn reader in mind, tagging fem js incase)

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆  — wc: 1.4k, enemies to lovers but it’s js forced prox w tension, denial is a river in egypt, silly aven calling you love every other sentence, anyway reblogs are much appreciated! please enjoy <3

based on this!

you have every reason to despise aventurine. ever since you first crossed paths, he has been nothing but a constant source of frustration and irritation. It isn’t just his smug demeanor or his irritating charm— it’s the way he seems to take pleasure in ruining everything you work for.

it's as if fate’s playing a cruel joke on you, your encounters never stopped. each time, it feels like being dragged into a twisted dance orchestrated by some malevolent force. and in every dance, aventurine was always one step ahead, always ready to trip you up and leave you stumbling in his wake. you’ve always vowed to turn the tables; to become the one who led the dance, who stayed ahead of the game.

but just when you think you have him figured out, he throws you off balance with those vexingly sweet pet names. "love," one of his favourites. his voice dripping with honeyed charm; a calculated move, specifically designed to distract you. and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself unable to ignore the stirring of something within you.

aventurine, this name, like the man it belongs to, fills you with a seething, visceral hatred that coils in the pit of your stomach like a venomous serpent. it doesn't make it better that tonight you actually have to dance with him.

you move through the crowd, searching for him even as you try to appear disinterested. then you see him, standing tall and confident, his gaze meeting yours across the room. he makes his way towards you, and you find yourself holding your breath.

“we meet again…” he says, stretching his hand out, offering a handshake as if this is a cordial reunion between old friends.

you stare at his outstretched hand, feeling a surge of indignation rising within you. he’s acting so nonchalant after everything he’s done. every fiber of your being screams at you to refuse, to turn on your heel and walk away, to show him that you will no longer be drawn into his twisted games.

though despite your better judgement, you find yourself hesitating. aventurine’s hand hangs in the air, waiting for your response, and for a moment, you're frozen in place, torn between your pride and the inevitability of the situation.

with a sigh, you finally relent, placing your hand in his with a forced politeness that belies the turmoil raging beneath the surface.

whatever. this will be a great chance to get some information out of him anyway. (you convince yourself)

aventurine holds a firm grip, his touch sending a shiver down your spine; and you can't help but resent the way he seems to revel in your discomfort.

tonight may be a seemingly innocent dance, but it's one you refuse to lose. and if he thinks he can best you with a simple handshake, he's sorely mistaken. you’ve prepared for this moment meticulously, concealing a dagger beneath your gown as a precaution. you knew aventurine would be here, and you anticipated the dance that would inevitably follow. 

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, he catches you off guard by retracting his hand, pulling you close. almost stumbling over your feet, you find yourself drawn into his embrace, his arms encircling you as he leads you onto the dance floor. as if on cue, the tempo picks up, and a hush falls over the crowd, the sound of whispered conversations fading into the background, all eyes turning to the dance floor. there's a palpable tension in the air, but you ignore it as the rhythm of the dance carries you away.

“so, mr aventurine, what brings you here? surely it's not just to exchange pleasantries.” you ask as you stare into his eyes, trying to gauge his intentions.

“oh drop the formalities love, you truly wound me…” he replies teasingly, dragging out the endearment with a smirk.

you roll your eyes and ignore the way he completely disregards your initial question, opting to save the interrogation for later. there's a strange sort of chemistry between you, if you can even call it that —an undeniable tension that defies explanation, even as you find yourself effortlessly matching his rhythm, and his movements to yours, a natural fluidity.

aventurine’s eyes, sweet like honey, yet always so keen and calculating; now holds a spark of amusement as he meets your eyes once more. his penetrating gaze seems to delve into the depths of your soul, studying you as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your defenses, and you stare back, matching his intensity, determined to uncover the truth hidden beneath his carefully constructed facade. 

he spins you gracefully across the floor, barbed words exchange silently between you as you move in perfect synchronisation. as he pulls you closer, your bodies brush against each other, his expression shifts. there's a flicker of surprise in his eyes but it's swiftly replaced by a widening smile. he feels the cold metal of the dagger strapped to your thigh pressing against his leg. aventurine’s grip on your waist tightens, he leans down, his warm breath caresses your ear.

“is this a surprise for me?”, his voice a low murmur that sends a tingling sensation coursing through your body.

“maybe.” you try to keep your tone cool despite the warmth radiating from his proximity making it increasingly difficult to catch your breath. he raises an eyebrow seemingly challenging you, "at least wait ‘til the song ends, love."

the air is suffusing with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, enveloping you, trapping you with him. you’ve always tried to keep him at arm's length, but somehow he finds his way by your side; his presence suffocating, his touch burning against your skin. 

“don’t call me that, it’s annoying.” you retort, words coming out sharper than you intended. though you can’t deny the subtle flutter in your chest, and quickening of your pulse that betrays the effect his endearment has on you.

“alright sweetheart, as you wish.” (you want to punch a hole through his face)

as the night comes to an end, aventurine reluctantly releases you from his grasp, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer. it’s a subtle gesture, but one that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. executing a bow with his eyes still locked onto yours; you curtsey in return, the intensity of his gaze weighing on you as you straighten up.

just as you remember the question you were supposed to ask him after the dance, he interrupts your thoughts by bringing your hand to his lips, the touch of his kiss a brief, searing contact; imprinting the sensation of his touch upon you before he releases your hand. 

“until next time”, his words carrying both promise and threat. you cast one last glance into his mesmerizing eyes, hoping to glean something behind them, but to no avail, you find only your own reflection staring back at you.

the sounds of the bustling ballroom gradually seep back into your awareness, laughters and chatters of other guests filling the air around you. returned to your senses, you hurriedly glance around, searching for any sign of him amidst the crowd, but he has vanished without a trace. as if he was never there at all, leaving you to wonder if the encounter was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. you shake your head, attempting to dispel the shroud of confusion that clouds your thoughts. 

(unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes remain fixed on you from the shadows for the rest of the night. hidden in the dimness, his captivation is made obvious by his unwavering gaze and subtle smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips.)

tonight, you found yourself caught in a dance with a man that delights in outmaneuvering you at every turn, who was as captivating as he was dangerous, and you can’t help but wonder when might be your next rendezvous.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆  masterlist