#Seriously though just look at the smoke from the candle and the texture of the background with it!!!

[onesecretperson]

Look at really good Art Commission drawn by @jorrated ! The mood of this is great, though I don't think I and word it out well.

Character Design by @bethdehart

[sanstropfremir]

WayV white girl witch coven 🤣😭 Tarot card concept when!!! In all seriousness though when I really thought about it, it's just some plastic crowns and candles, but they look so expensive somehow. Sorry my very non-aesthetic self don't have any better ways of describing it, but WayV just always looked luxurious to me even back in their Regular days. Their MV felt textually so much more luscious than the 127 version, ironic because 127 lyrics was more explicit about being rich. I recall you saying before that WayV's stylist is one of the few that gets luxury fashion right. With the seasons greetings though, you literally can't even see their outfits beyond "is black". Is it the blurred effect feeding into it? I would love to hear you talk more about what contributes to this kind of look and how their stylists achieve it!

oh a lot of the heavy lifting is done by the fact that wayv literally just look expensive. as a group they have a high percentage of very attractive people, even for kpop standards. basically it's a lot of subconscious association that the stylists + designers are using to make them look expensive, starting with:

pretty people are associated with wealth

technology is associated with wealth

visible and obvious luxury brand logos

the thing about 127's regular is that i think the overtness of the lyrics is intentionally played off of the setting that they're in to make a cute lil ironic comment in the 'started from the bottom now we here' kind of way. for the 127 mv they film in a lot of on location, cramped spaces that are visually crowded with stuff and closer to the dingy side. they also shoot at a bunch of places that are not usually associated with wealth at all (at least to me as a westerner), like arcades, a pool hall, and a go kart track. the only remotely 'expensive' looking place they use is that gold backdrop that i'd be willing to bet is in a hotel lobby. they also use a lot of smoke and bright neon + warm tone lighting. all of these things are generally associated with kitsch, which in turn is commonly perceived to be lower class. there's also very few visible luxury logos; they are wearing a fair amount of designer, but unless you can recognize the burberry or loverboy plaids, it's almost impossible for a normal person to tell. also their 'main' outfits are just embellished suit jackets, which are actually not at all a common sight in the luxury fashion industry. it is however, a very common signifier of 'fancy' in the kpop industry, and has been for a long time. all of this together tells me that they were not really intending for this mv or for 127 to 'look expensive', they were intending for them to look like grimy lil fratboys playing at having too much money.

wayv's regular, on the other hand, is textbook luxury through and through. it's entirely cool tone, clean lines, technofuturist branding. their styling does not use any of the 'matching' type boy group outfits that appear in the 127 regular mv, and there's more visible logoing and use of fabrics and textures associated with ostentation, like heavy patterning and velvet. plus the two lv pieces and the two (i think?) burberry shirts. although i would not call this mv minimalist, there's also a fair amount of negative space, and minimalism + large empty spaces are usually assiocated with wealth bc of the luxury of having that space. i'd be willing to be that 90% of their sets are custom built, and those sets are all places that are associated with money: an indoor pool, a european style theatre, a stock exchange, inside a computer server room, and a LOT of digital screens and visible (expensive) equipment. plus they also set up the techno-branding with see+feel the v, which lends a longer intention to the mv itself. sm is presenting wayv as these highly, highly expensive perfect technological constructs that are above you in status. and that initial branding has filtered subconsciously into how we view them now, even if the concept doesn't strictly match.

also specifically for the seasons greetings: how they made that look 'expensive' is by:

specifically blocking out the clothing + keeping the focus on their faces

using crown props (subconscious royalty association)

applying a heavy filter that fuzzes out the details and pumps up the shine, which draws a lot of attention to the gold accents (gold = wealth)

using a theme that's associated with expensive rocks

[kiras-sunshine]

tarlos valentine 2021 day 1 prompt: “babe please sharing is caring” + blanket hogging

words: 5111

summary:

“Are you seriously reading a WikiHow article about how to stop hogging the covers?”

"Yes"

read on ao3

or

”This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” TK declares as he takes yet another forkful of the chocolate cake that Carlos has baked for his birthday.

He cannot remember when someone would have baked an actual cake for his birthday. They celebrate everyone’s birthday at the firehouse, but usually those are bought from the supermarket and they taste and look exactly like they cost less than five dollars.

His dad has threatened to bake something every year, but after the year when he served the dairy, butter and sugar free cake, TK had banned him from birthday related baking.

“Seriously,” he continues, gesturing towards the almost empty plate with his fork, “this cake made me fall more in love with you and I didn’t know that was possible.”

Carlos shakes his head, clearly in amusement, as he bites down his smile. He looks delighted and pleased.  “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like is an understatement,” he remarks and reaches over the narrow kitchen island to press a quick kiss on his lips.

The cake tastes amazing, rich and sweet, and the texture is fluffy, but firm. It looked gorgeous too, as if it were straight rout of the high-end confectioneries of Manhattan. He had asked where he had bought it before Carlos admitted, rather timidly, that he had baked it from the scratch.

TK hadn’t been expecting anything other than the supermarket cake, and honestly, he thought his birthday would be just grouped together with the firehouse annual Christmas party. Being born in December usually meant that it got joined with Christmas celebrations and it didn’t get to be a separate thing. TK is fine with it. It bothered him more when he was a child, but now he doesn’t mind that much.

Hoping that one day would be about him feels like a dumb, childish and selfish wish.  

Carlos had been uncharacteristically quiet about the upcoming birthday or any plans related to it, and TK had been almost convinced that he had forgotten the whole thing. It would have been fine if it were the case, but obviously, he hadn’t forgotten. Instead, he had gone all out.

TK knows he should have suspected something when Marjan had asked all slyly if he had any plans for his birthday when they all had been gathered around the firehouse dining table to eat the pathetic looking supermarket cake.

He had said no, and everyone had smiled like they knew something he didn’t, but he had brushed it off.

TK reaches scoop a forkful of the cake from Carlos’ plate, because his is almost empty, and he grins at him brightly. “Babe please, sharing is caring,” he chuckles.

Carlos rolls his eyes, but the fondness is too visible to make him seem even a tiny bit annoyed.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he mumbles. There is no heat behind his words, and he pushes the plate closer to TK.

It’s obviously meant to be a joke and his voice is light, but still TK is aware that it is the closest thing to the truth anyway. He feels lucky, incredibly so.

Carlos is a kind, caring and loving person in general and it is evident in the way he does his job and the way he treats people around him, and TK is fully aware that he would be lucky to get just a fraction of the love Carlos has to give, but the fact that he has decided that TK is worth of all of it makes it a whole another thing.

Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Privilege, maybe.

He has started to notice lately that the English language doesn’t have nearly enough words to describe what he is feeling for him. But that doesn’t stop him from trying.

“I know,” TK eventually replies, several beats too late it to be counted as banter anymore and the fondness in Carlos’ eyes just grows.

He does steal another forkful of his piece of cake and lets his gaze wonder around the small cabin.

Instead of forgetting his birthday, Carlos had rented a cabin for three days. It is a couple hours away from Austin, located near camping-area, and while the cabin is small, it is still objectively really nice and fancy for a log cabin.

He looks at the dark brown wooden walls and the shiny marble kitchen island. He tries his best not to think how much money he has spent on his surprise.

Carlos had also coordinated it so that they both have the three days off around his birthday, and he had listed his whole crew’s, and his dad’s help, to do it, several months in advance. TK guesses there are certain perks that his boyfriend gets along with his family like a house on fire.

Carlos yawns. He blinks a couple of times, before focusing his gaze back to him. He smiles and it is warm and genuine one, but TK can see the redness of his eyes and the dark circles below them. He looks exhausted, even though he is trying to hide it.

“You should go to sleep,” TK points out, softly, as he places the fork on his own plate.

“I’m fine,” he insists.

In his opinion, it is a small wonder Carlos hasn’t collapsed already. He had pulled an fourteen-hour shift with some over time on top of it. After that he had still driven them up to the cottage and cooked him a huge dinner. It’s a bit unclear to him where he found the time to bake the cake, but the point is, he knows that he is tired.

He would know it without having all the details. They have been together for year and a half, and TK likes to think that he can read him. Understand all the little cues from his facial expressions and behavior. At the moment, everything he picks on screams that he is fatigued.

“You look like you could pass out from exhaustion,” he remarks.

“It’s your birthday,” Carlos argues, a little flatly, but he is poorly attempting to repress yet another yawn.

“I’m aware,” he says, amusedly, as walks around the kitchen island and reaches to take his hand into his own. He presses a soft kiss on his knuckles. “All of this is really nice, and I love it, but it also pains me to see you so tired.”

He blinks slowly, but his smile is lopsided, but still full of adoration. “I wanted to do something special for you.”

TK remembers faintly that he had told him on his last birthday that his birthday rarely was a priority, always getting entangled to the preparations of the holiday season, and he had certainly not meant anything with it. But Carlos, being a strong contender for the title of most considerate person in the world, had hung on his words and decided to indulge him on his silly wish of having a proper birthday.

TK had snorted when they had picked up the keys of the cabin and the receptionist had frowned when she clarified that there would be no Christmas decorations, per request, but Carlos had just grinned at him.

“And it is,” he reassures, squeezing his hand slightly.

It makes his stomach flip as he thinks how much effort he has put into the whole thing, just so that he would feel loved and cared for.

“Maybe,” Carlos admits softly, “but going to sleep before eight wasn’t really part of the plan.”

Carlos lets go of his hand, but places both of his hands on his waist and pulls him closer. TK has no objections against that, and he loves the feeling of their bodies being pressed together. He loves the closeness of it, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to be so up in each other’s personal space.

“Yeah, just one of the many perks of dating a first responder,” he deadpans, resting his other hand on his bicep.

Carlos huffs amusedly. “Because there are so many of them.”

“Our never matching schedules,” he offers. He lets his other hand run along his spine and settles it to hold the small of his back.

“Monthly hospital visits.”

TK glares at him. “They aren’t monthly.”

“Bi-monthly,” Carlos corrects himself with a shit-eating grin and it makes his nose scrunch, and it is one of the most adorable things TK has ever witnessed.

“Constant fear and worry,” he adds.

He knows he should be almost used to it. Since early childhood, he has had to learn to live with the fact that one day his dad might not make it to home, and now almost everyone he loves and considers family risks their lives on daily basis to help others.

He should be used to it, but the truth is that he isn’t. The fear and worry still sometimes knock him off his feet and take over every part of his body, but he can cope with it. Most of the time. Although, he loathes the fact that his standards for a good day have been lowered to the simple rule of if they both make it home in one piece, it’s a good day.

Carlos nods and presses a soft kiss on his forehead. He doesn’t immediately pull away. “The way you smell like smoke,” he murmurs against his skin.

TK lets out a surprised laugh and the ghost of his kiss still lingers right above his eyebrows when he pulls away. “I could always shower again.”

He has gotten into the habit of showering at the firehouse when the shift ends, because Carlos does have a point about the smell hazards. Most of the time he reeks after the shift and he had rinsed his skin today too, and the shift hadn’t been terrible. Only one fire at the 24-hour diner when their deep fryer had caught on fire, but that was hours ago.

“You’ve smelled like it since the day we met,” he points out, “I’m not sure a shower is going to help.”

“Hey,” TK protests, but he doesn’t bother to hide his grin.

“I wouldn’t change any of it for anything,” he says under his breath, “apart from fearing for your life.”

Over the couple of years, he has known Carlos, he has noticed that certain things happen when he gets thoroughly exhausted. His accent becomes thicker and he becomes sappier than usually and he starts to lack a certain filter. It’s mostly just amusing and endearing, and he loves that side of Carlos just as much as any other, but he also wants to take care of him.

It makes a certain kind of knot of uneasiness to form in his stomach knowing that he is burning the candle from both ends for him.

“I know, me neither,” TK reassures, softly, but pushes him a little backwards, “but seriously, you should go to bed. And you don’t even have to go alone.”

He is also a little weary after the shift. His muscles are achy, and he wouldn’t mind sleeping around the clock. And as always, seeing Carlos yawn, makes him sleepy, too.

“Your pickup lines are terrible,” he retorts, but takes a couple steps backwards towards the bedroom.

TK snorts. “They worked well enough on you.”

He still keeps walking backwards, his left shoulder only slightly bumping against the doorframe as he enters the bedroom. “They didn’t. I didn’t need pick-up lines, it was that damn smile.”

He ought to add getting complimented by him to the list of things he should be already gotten used to, because Carlos does it a lot. It’s a casual comment here and there, and it definitely isn’t always about his looks, but still no matter how many times he hears them, they always make his stomach twist in a best way possible.

Even now, the bubbling feeling of happiness settles into his chest and his lips are curling into a smile, and he knows it’s giving away everything he is currently feeling. The happiness and adoration mixing into together and spilling out as a soft and bright smile.

“That’s the one,” Carlos whispers, contently and almost in awe, and few seconds later his fist is full of the soft fabric of TK’s grey sweatshirt and he is pulling him close again.

“Yeah,” TK finds himself saying, but he cannot tear his gaze away from his lips and judging by the glint in his brown eyes, he has noticed it too, despite the sleep deprivation.

Sometimes, most of the time really, it is like electricity humming underneath his skin when Carlos looks at him. It feels like it now, too, and while they established very early into their acquittance that they are into each other. It was painfully obvious from the way they glanced each other while dancing and from the way they ended up hooking up within an hour.

Still, TK cannot help but marvel the that the feeling of sparks and electricity is still there, but it is still different. All the rush and fumbling are gone because there is more certainness now, of that the other is not going to disappear and that any of the lingering touches would be the last ones.

Now, every moment is like a small declaration of love.

He tugs the hem of Carlos’ shirt and gently yanks it upwards and helps him to undress it and Carlos helps him to get rid of his sweatshirt and tosses it somewhere on the floor. Suddenly, his lips are on his again, and the kiss is soft, but it still makes TK’s heart beat faster and toes curl up with want.

He runs his hands along his arms and squeezes his left forearm slightly. “Mmh, not when you’re that tired,” TK mumbles against his lips.

He knows where it is heading unless he breaks it off, and while he wants to, it still defeats the whole purpose of his grand plan of Carlos getting enough sleep.

Carlos immediately takes a step back, like he always does when he lets him know he is not up for something, and his smile is mischievous, but still a little flustered. “I’d not fall asleep on you,” he adds, as he takes off his sweatpants, but this time he folds them neatly and picks up their shirts from the floor.

“You have,” TK points out, kindly, as he gets rid of his own pants, “and you probably would now, too.”

Since their schedules don’t always match, they tend to take up any opportunity that arises, but a couple of times, after double digit shifts, Carlos has fallen asleep before they have even properly started, and it’s no big deal. TK knows he has fallen asleep on him too.

He mostly finds it endearing, but it also means to him that Carlos trusts him enough and is comfortable enough to fall asleep without a second thought to it.

Carlos just hums amusedly as a response and gets into the way too huge bed.

The bedroom is tiny, and the bed takes a ridiculously big part of it, but he is surprised to find it to be incredibly soft and comfortable. Still, as TK sits on the bed, he pushes his pillow closer to his because he is not sleeping twenty inches away from him.

He settles down, lying right next to him and Carlos immediately drapes one arm over him, resting it on his chest and nuzzling his shoulder. TK’s hand fumbles a little until it finds Carlos’s other hand and curls his fingers around his.

“I’m--,” Carlos starts, quietly, but TK cuts him immediately off.

“Don’t you dare apologize again,” he says, softly. “This is all I ever wanted and it’s perfect.”

He runs his fingers along his forearm. He hopes that he knows that he doesn’t mean the cabin or any of it, but just that he gets to spend his birthday with him.

Twenty-year-old TK would have laughed if someone would have told him that his best birthday would be in rural Texas, but there he is, more content than ever.

“How did you know what I was going to say?”

He glances at him. “I can hear you think.”

Carlos exhales softly and TK can feel his breath against his bicep. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve all of it and more.”

It has been a long process to learn that he deserves nice things and to be loved, because of everything and despite of everything. He has Carlos to remind him about it occasionally, but still he cannot help but wonder what he has done to end up with more love than he could have imagined a couple of years ago.

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss on his temple. “Why this place?”

TK has wondered about it since the moment they arrived. He has never heard about the place before and albeit, his knowledge of anything about Texas outside of Austin is a little wobbly, but the whole place seems to be quiet and has a little hole-in-the-wall feeling to it, like you would have to know about its existence to find it.

“It’s a dumb story,” he murmurs against his shoulders.

“I wanna hear all of your dumb stories.”

Carlos shifts a little. “We came here with my family when I was maybe thirteen,” he starts, slowly and absentmindedly tracing some sort of pattern against his ribs. “I loved this place, and we had great time, but it still filled me with dread ‘cause the place was full of happy couples and families, and I was pretty convinced at that age that I couldn’t ever have any of that on my own.”

His heart breaks a little as he listens to him. He meant his words that he wants to hear all of his stories, dumb or not, but now he regrets a little of ever asking because he knows that his coming out process hasn’t always been the smoothest and deep south hasn’t been the most forgiving place for him to live and grow up.

“But,” Carlos continues, “I had this dream that one day I’d bring here someone I’d love.”

TK breath almost hitches in his throat. It’s almost too much, but in the best way possible. To know that he has had that idea in his head for years and that he decided that he would be worthy of being a part of that. It makes his heart soar.

“I did try to warn you it was dumb,” he mumbles, taking his silence in the wrong way.

“It’s not dumb,” he rushes to say, “it’s actually really sweet.”

It’s not the most eloquent response, but it’s too difficult to pinpoint anything he is currently feeling or to put them into comprehensible words that would reflect any of the love he has for him.

“Yeah, well, you’re the only one I’ve brought here, so there is that too,” he adds, his gaze focused on his jawline, but he looks up to his eyes too, with the softest of smiles.

He is convinced his heart is going to burst. “Thank you for sharing it with me,” he whispers, right below his ear, “and for including me in it.”

They lay there for a moment, in silence, only listening the steady breathing of each other’s, but eventually TK sits up to reach the corner of the duvet and tries to settle it so that it covers both of their bodies.

“Are you going to hog all the blankets again?”

Carlos has closed his eyes already, but his voice is light and teasing.

“I don’t hog ‘em.”

He sputters out a laugh, and it’s warm, happy and genuine, and TK loves to hear that particular laugh.

“Oh, so I’ve been sleeping without one willingly for a year and half,” Carlos asks, quizzically, but it looks like another fit of laughter could erupt from him at any given moment.

“What?”

“You always steal the blankets, even if there are two,” Carlos explains, sounding almost fond as he looks at him.

“I don’t?”

TK hates how it sounds like a question to his own ears, too. He is aware that he moves a lot in his sleep, and his ex-boyfriends have given him so much shit about it, which is also why he tried to avoid staying the night when he started seeing Carlos.

Nothing is more charming than elbowing significant other in their sleep or kicking their shins. Still, Carlos has never said anything about the way he sleeps.

He knows that their bed is a goddamn mess every time they wake up, the blankets are usually disregarded somewhere, and they are not in the same positions as they fell asleep to, but he had no idea that he was the main cause of it.

“Mhm, you do,” Carlos hums, his eyes closing again.

TK shoots perplexed glance at him. “Why haven’t you woken me up?”

He is a little more than appalled that apparently he has been doing it since the beginning of their relationship, but he is only hearing about it now.

Carlos opens one of his eyes, squeezing the other one shut. “Yeah, wonder why I haven’t woken up my boyfriend, who on regular basis pulls twenty-four-hour shifts,” he mumbles, but there is nothing but kindness in his voice.

“You could have,” he argues, flatly.

“I’ve tried to steal them back sometimes,” Carlos admits, his gaze landing back to him, and his eyes are gleaming. “But there’s no point. You just steal ‘em back. I’ve extra blankets, too, but there is no limit to how many blankets you hog in a night.”

Not for the first time around Carlos, TK finds himself to be a little loss for words. This time it is because of completely different reasons, he is a little too stunned and confused to talk.

“The way you clutch to them and collect them is almost adorable,” he adds with a low chuckle.  

“So, every time you have said you sleep better when I’m there with you has been a blatant lie?”

He almost wants to laugh. It’s a bit more than ridiculous that he is only learning about his own nocturnal habits now, and Carlos has told him multiple times that he sleeps more soundly and deeply, that he feels safe, when he is around, and he has always found that a little more than endearing, but now it feels impossible to wrap his head around that it would be anywhere near the truth.

“Nope.”

“You really expect me to believe that the best sleep of your life happens without blankets?”

Carlos blinks, but the look he gives him is soft and laced equally with love and fondness. Still, he gently pokes him in between his ribs. “Am I in the habit of lying to you?”

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer,” he replies, easily and effortlessly, as if he has accepted the fate of sleeping without any blankets, ever.

TK grunts and picks up his phone from the nightstand and starts typing.

“Are you seriously reading a WikiHow article about how to stop hogging the covers?” Carlos questions, as he peaks the article he started suddenly to browse through.

“Yes.”

He cannot put his finger to what actually bothers him about this small revelation so much. The unnamed feeling in his chest grows and it starts to resemble something similar to guilt, even though some logical part of his brain is telling him that there is no reason to feel that way.

He can admit that it makes him uneasy to know that Carlos has stayed silent about it for so long, especially when it must have affected the way he sleeps, too.

Carlos chuckles, softly. “It’s not that big of a deal, Ty,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

“Apparently we could sleep separately,” he reads aloud as he scrolls through the surprisingly long article.

“Out of question,” Carlos replies, without missing a beat.

He huffs in some sort of agreement. It’s not the solution he would be eager to try any time soon, but he wants to find something tangible to make the uneasiness in his heart to go away.

“Somehow trap the covers underneath the mattress, smaller bed, bigger blankets--,” he continues to slowly read as he makes through the list, until Carlos gently yanks the phone away from his hand and places it face down on his chest.

“We don’t need to do any of that,” he reminds, “I sleep perfectly fine. You cling like an octopus and you’re like a walking radiator, I don’t need a blanket. And above all, I like sleeping with you.”

It’s a tiny confession, but he sounds sure of it and there is genuine fondness in the way he says it, and he cannot help but believe that he means it.

TK loves the way they sleep. There is so much closeness in it. Their bed is pretty wide, but every time he wakes up, they are close and touching each other, in one way or another. A hand resting on a thigh, fingers against hip, face pressed against shoulder blade, entangled legs and arms.

He is pretty convinced there are no moments when they are not touching when sleeping. He sort of likes that. That they drift towards other, even when they are completely unaware of it. They move in their sleep. Carlos always falls asleep on his side but ends up lying on his back. He moves around a lot more, but the fact that they always wake up pressed together, means that they move together.

When the other moves, the other follows. Invisible string connecting them in their dreams. Like magnets pulling each other in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” Carlos continues to fill in the silence, “I knew you’d get stuck in that beautiful mind of yours about it, but I didn’t know it’d bother you this much.”

There is a question hidden, and he knows he is giving him the space not to answer, but he wants to.

TK groans, quietly and softly. He places the phone back on the nightstand and rubs his own face. “It’s just that—you simply decided to put up with it,” he tries to clarify, still trying to make sense of the emotions that keep bumping against each other inside of him, “instead of telling me to do something about it.”

He knows that he cannot control what he does in his sleep, but he would still like to try and make it better.

“I get that, but sayin’ that I’m putting up with it makes it sound too negative,” he says, exhaustion leaking back into his voice just slightly, “and I’d have told you if truly bothered me, but it doesn’t.”

“Yeah.”

He strokes his side, in slow moments, with his thumb. It sends small shivers along his spine. TK glances back at him, but his eyes are closed again. “I love you and I’ll gladly sleep without a blanket for rest of my life, it’s a small price to pay.”

Silence follows, and TK can feel how he tenses up slightly next to him. It’s a small change, but he knows him well enough to spot the difference.

“That’s pretty much wedding vow material already,” TK jokes, planting another kiss on his forehead because he wants him to know it is okay, and that he is not freaking out about any mentions of their shared future, and that he can say stuff like that to him.

That he wants to hear it.

Some of the tension immediately leaves his body when he pulls away from the kiss.

“I know,” he slurs, sleepily. “I should write it down.”

“Height of romance.”

He laughs, even though he manages to make it sound tired too, but it is still a beautiful sound. “Damn right it is.”

“I’m gonna buy a bigger duvet when we get home,” TK declares.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, but I want to.”

It might not help anything, and Carlos does seem pretty content with their current arrangements, but he still needs to do something. To try, at least, even if it is something as small as blanket hogging.

Carlos opens his eyes again, clearly fighting off the sleep. “Promise something.”

He is a little surprised by his words, but he cranes his neck on the pillow so that he can get a better look at his face. “Anything.”

“Don’t start to overthink it, the way you sleep isn’t something you should actively think about. You’ll only lose sleep,” he tells him.

TK knows he has a point. It’s definitely an easy rabbit hole to fall in, and to become too self-conscious about every moment and not being able to relax and just be. Maybe he should take Carlos’ word for it.

“I’ll promise I’ll try my best to get over the fact that I’ve forced you to freeze your ass every night for over a year.”

Carlos’ eyes are shut, but the grin that forms on his lips is bright and brilliant. “We live in Texas, it’s hot and humid most of the time, my ass is fine.”

“It is.”

He laughs again, mostly against his fluffy pillow. “How did we end up having this conversation?”

“About us, the blankets, the future or the future of our blankets?” TK asks, deadpan, just to mess with his sleep deprived brain.

“Any of it?”

“I don’t know, you started it,” he tells him, amusement shining in his soft voice

“I’m too tired,” he half-slurs, but the smile still lingers on his lips.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” TK points out, kindly, and moves his other hand to run through Carlos’ hair, massaging his scalp soothingly.

“You’re right,” he breathes out, and TK can hear the smirk in his voice, “just this once.”

He laughs quietly, trying not to stir him any more than necessary, and he thinks he might have already fallen asleep, and he almost startles when he hears his voice again.

“Ty?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t need any blankets, just need you.”

He would have expected his voice to be light, teasing and joking, but it sounds surprisingly sincere and like it half-accidently escapes away from his exhausted mind, but it sounds still so goddamn sincere that it makes TK’s heart flutter.

“Smooth,” he remarks, quietly, unsure what to do with all the happiness that keeps bubbling inside of him, but the only reply he gets is the quiet and steady breathing.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #326

“life by life  /  waste to waste  /  i'm the harbinger: the master of decay”

When you get married what do you think you’ll put most of your focus and money into? Do you mean like, for the wedding? Probably the venue. Or possibly the photographer. Have you ever had a teacher that also taught your parents? No. What’s something you complain about frequently? My legs. Are you afraid of falling in love? Very. Are you close to any of your aunts/uncles? Not very. Do you hate it when people smoke around you? Very much so. Do you own anything that is special edition? Yeah, things like DVDs. Do you have any funky bookmarks? I have this one meerkat bookmark where the image moves when you tilt it. Did you ever watch Pokemon? Hell yeah I did. Are there more females or males in your family? Females. Does anyone in your family snore loudly? My mom does due to having gerd. Dad did too when I actually lived with him. I wouldn't know nowadays. Do you own a camera tripod? Yes. Did you ever believe in mermaids? No. Have you ever purchased alcohol? Yes. Any essential quirks/interests/other you look for in a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner? Similar interests, like being a metal fan and gamer especially, as well as a serious animal lover for sure. Any romantic gestures you really like? Okay if someone did that little bow thing while reaching out for my hand to dance, I'd melt, lol. I also appreciate love interests holding open doors, SHOWING INTEREST IN HOW I FCKN FEEL, asking permission before doing anything in sexual exploration, stuff like that. Any sexual fantasies? Are you daring enough to share one? Yep, not sharing those lmfao. Have you ever been in love? Twice. What is your favorite/least favorite word? My favorite is "serendipity/serendipitous," and my least favorite is "retarded." Have you ever been skinny dipping? No. If I actually had a body I was confident in, I probably would in privacy tho at night lmao. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? Oh yeah. What is your favorite thing to do? Probably RPing with my favorite OCs when I'm in a really creative mood and during a great scene. Did you go to your senior prom? Yeah, I did. Prom's honestly pretty damn overrated, but I did it and his senior prom anyway. It's the picking out a beautiful dress and taking pictures that I loved. What did you do after graduation? I don't remember. We probably went out to eat or something. Favorite home cooked meal growing up? Spaghetti. What item most embarrasses you to purchase? Nothing, really. Do you give cards to people for holidays or events? No. Name the coolest thing about one of your grandparents. Uhhhhh idk. Name two things you put whipped cream on? I hate the texture of whipped cream. Do you ever eat peanut butter straight from the jar? Sometimes if I want a snack but am trying to be healthy-ish, I'll eat just a scoop. What was the last pill you took for? Pain. Do you prefer your clothes loose or close fitting? Loose, 100%. Favorite thing you’ve ever painted? Meerkats grooming. I did it in high school on a large piece of burlap. Are there any songs that remind you of your mother? "Take It Like a Woman" by Alice Cooper, for one. How did your elementary school teachers describe you? Very smart, sweet, friendly, and nice. Game you were best at in PE/gym? Pf, none. Obsession from childhood? Dinosaurs and Pokemon. Best way for someone to bond with you? Let's talk about deep stuff regarding the world or about how awesome animals are. Top 5 favorite Vines? Oh boy. There are just way too many. I'll try to name a few: 1.) the "I can't find my berries" saga guy; 2.) *in drive-thru, asked what he would like to order* "I wanna FUCKIN DIE"; 2.) "i cOUldA DROPpeD my CroISSAnt"; 3.) "it's Wednesday, m'dudes"; 4.) "a d a m"; 5.) "I WON'T HESITATE, BITCH." God, I miss Vine. What is the first meme you remember seeing? Holy cow, I have no idea. Sci-fi, fantasy, or superheroes? Fantasy. Favorite tradition? Dressing up for Halloween, even though I don't do it anymore... Talent you’re proud of having? Writing. Favorite website from your childhood? Webkinz was unbeatable. I was obsessed. Any good luck charms? I don't believe in those. Favorite potato food? French fries. Tell me the color of your eyes, without using the name of a color: Uhhhh a cloudy sky right before rain? Ever been through a goth phase? Goth is my fucking AESTHETIC. I wish I could afford a truly gothic wardrobe, because you bet your sweet ass it's all I'd wear out. Can you remember your first phone? If so, what kind was it? I think so? It was a Blueberry, I believe. Who is your favourite character from Alice in Wonderland? Obviously the Cheshire cat. What is your favorite type of YouTube video to watch? Lately, it's been tarantula and snake channels/pet YouTubers. I still think my overall favorites are let's plays, but right now it's just stepping back a bit. What’s the next project you are excited to start? I have this pretty cool drawing I wanna do of a morbid meerkat doing a big toothy smile, doing a peace sign (but his fingers are syringes) with a crown blinking over his head. Inspired by the "Professional Griefers" lyric of "lab rat king." I just really wanna make it perfect and am procrastinating in fear of failing... Have you ever experienced a miracle? I don't think I believe in miracles. What are your top three names you like for a daughter? Alessandra, Justine, and Chloe, to name a few. Which did you like better: high school or college? High school, at least in most ways. What is the theme of your bedroom? It doesn't have a theme. My interests just kinda threw up everywhere, haha. Have you ever lived in a dorm? No. Were you raised religious? Yes. Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional? I don't have to do taxes yet. What was the very first thing you ever saved up to buy with your own money? Venus was the first big thing, I think. Describe your favorite Christmas ornament: I don't know what that would be, honestly. We have so very many. What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up? Dad's always been a mailman, and he also had a second job as a carpenter for a while. Mom worked with special needs children at my elementary school as a teacher assistant. She also worked at the hospital at one point, doing some computer work. I don't remember her actual position. Are you taller than your mom? We're the same height. Would you marry someone if they were unable to have sex? Sure, that's not a big deal to me. Last reason you went to the ER? For myself, a suicide attempt/overdose. What was the last word document you typed? This survey, actually, so I could save progress as I combine them. What’s something you don’t think people take seriously enough? Global warming. Have you ever dated someone who had a child from a previous relationship? No. Is there any drama currently going on with your family? No. What was the last fruit or vegetable you chopped/sliced up? An apple. I wanted apple slices with peanut butter. What is your favorite Hostess/Little Debbie snack? Holy SHIT that is impossible. Maybe the devil cakes, but I really don't know. I love most of them. Do you/your family buy loaf from the bakery or bagged on the shelf? Bagged. White, wheat or other? Mom buys white bread, but my favorite is pumpernickel. What was the last non-fiction book you’ve read? (Not a school textbook!): I ain't got a clue. I don't really read non-fiction. What color are your headphones/earbuds? These are blue. Would you be embarrassed to find out you snored loudly in public? Yep. Thankfully, I don't snore. Do you feel guilty about killing bugs? Yep. How do you feel about coconut? Not a fan. ^ Ever cracked one open? Ha, I've always wanted to. Who did you last worry about and why? My mom. She's getting a CT scan ASAP due to chronic headaches and stomach pain, so I'm worried her cancer might be re-emerging. When was the last time you ate/drank something gross just to be polite? I don't know; I struggle to do this. If I don't like something, my face shows it. I can't help it. When did you last make up a baby’s bottle? Never. Do you have any framed black & white photos in your home? Who are they of? No. What’s the most expensive thing your car needed to get done? N/A If you had a thousand dollars to spend on a pricey brand you like but can’t really afford (until now of course), which ONE brand would you chose? I don't know. Real talk, I find most luxury brands to sell pretty ugly stuff... Do you like candy canes? Yeah. Do you still talk to any of your old teachers? Yes; one is my landlord. What color was the dress you wore to your senior prom? It was black. Ever go to another school’s prom? No. Do you like burning candles or incense? I love incense. Do you ever venture into the woods? What do you normally do in there? When I used to live in the woods, I did every now and then to take pictures. Does your significant other ever make you mix CDs? Single, but that would be so romantic. /swoons How did you dress your freshman year of high school? I was this emo/metalhead/goth creature. What is the best present you have ever received? My dog Teddy. <3 What is the best present you have ever given? I put the most effort into a scrapbook thing of well over a hundred reasons I loved my then-boyfriend Jason. Even though we're done, I honestly hope he still has it, just to remember. What is the best surprise you have ever had? Sara's parents paying for a flight up there to be with Sara for her birthday. Have you ever been robbed? No, thankfully. Ever kiss someone on the first date? No. Ever sleep with someone on the first date? Definitely a nope. Ever give someone a wrong phone number on purpose? No. What’s the strangest thing you have ever witnessed firsthand? I have no idea. It's... very morbid, but possibly dogs twitching after being euthanized. Seeing Teddy do it was such a strange, painful experience. Like there was still life in there... even though I know it was just his nerves doing their final hoorah and he was already dead. Ever seen a psychiatric ward? I've been in a mental hospital five or six times, so I'm uncomfortably familiar with them. What is the last thing you did that you didn’t want to do? Group therapy. I'm really burning out on it. Thankfully, I don't have it on the weekends. What is the last thing you convinced someone else to do? I dunno. If you could live in a different time, would you? When? Nah. Do you prefer to sleep alone or with someone else? Sleeping alone is more comfortably physically, but I usually prefer sleeping with a partner because there's this amazing feeling of safety, love, and companionship. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two. Do you prefer cold air and blankets, or warm air and no blankets? Cold air and blankets by ten miles. I can't sleep if I'm even remotely hot. How often do you dust? Sigh, not as much as I need to. What is the most "extreme" activity you have ever done? I haven't done very much that fits that description... so idk. Dr. Pepper or root beer? Dr. Pepper. I hate root beer. Last room you cleaned? Mine. Last thing you did that made you feel like an adult? Checked into the doctor's office by myself, haha... Talk about sad. What’s your favorite picture of your mom? Dad? It's not my business to actually share those pictures, but I can describe them. I fucking ADORE this candid photograph I took of my mom laughing; I will forever cherish it. It's morbid to think about, but it's absolutely a picture I'll frame of her once she's passed away. I don't have many pictures of Dad, but I do really like this picture we took together at Red Lobster once. Are you subscribed to anything (Magazines, monthly boxes, streaming sites, etc.)? Mom pays an Adobe Creative Cloud photography bundle subscription for me, but that's it. Last TV show series you finished? Fullmetal Alchemist with Sara. It was a rewatch for me, but she'd never seen it. What’s something exciting that’s happened to one of your friends recently? A childhood friend got engaged a few days back. Do you have any board games? If so, where do you keep them? We have a few somewhere. What were the last things you glued together? I don’t recall. What are your friends’ pets’ names? I'll just use Sara here since she's my best friend. She has two family dogs, Buster and Beesly, a cat named Winter, four ball pythons named Martha, Crowley, Little Dot, and Jane Marie, and Doris, a bearded dragon that I personally adore most. :') What all did you do today? I played World of Warcraft early this morning, but not for very long. I've been in a phase of being very uninterested in it lately. I've mostly just done surveys... lots of surveys. I'm just in the mood to. I've also been listening to music and watching John Wolfe play Amnesia: Rebirth periodically. If you live in a house, how many floors does it have? If you live in an apartment building, how many units does it have? It's just one floor. Would you like to live in a world with mythical creatures, even if they turned out to be evil or dangerous? Honestly... I probably would, haha. Are you scared of heights? Yes. When was the last time you lost something of great sentimental value? Did you ever end up finding it again? Never, I think and hope. What food do you find to be the most filling? Is this something you eat a lot of? Eggs or oatmeal. Not really. What do you think of people who purposefully train their dogs to fight or to be aggressive? They're fucking garbage human beings. If you suffer/have suffered with acne, do you squeeze your spots or do your best to just leave them be? Ugh, I was so bad (and still am if something pops up) about picking at it. Does your father have any hobbies? What are they? Sure. He loves sports, fishing, idk if he still plays video games, fantasy football... and I can't forget playing with his grandkids. It's hard for me to know all of them when I don't live with him and see him rarely. What did the last face mask you wore look like? It was just a white cotton one. Is there a specific song that you always request at parties? What is it? I don't go to parties. Would you rather read poetry or write poetry? Write it. Have you ever had any really infected injuries? I've had infected piercings as well as a badly infected pilonidal cyst. Is there any band out there that you like every song by them? No. Are you popular on any websites? No. What was the last song you listened to? Aaaaand now I'm hooked on "NIHIL" by 3TEETH. Are you currently texting anyone right now? No. When was the last time you played jump rope? Yikes, probably not since I was a kid. I used to love it. Who was the last person you offended? I dunno. What’s the earliest you’ve ever had to wake up for work? Not early. Do you know anyone who has changed their first name? I know trans people who have, yes. Do you know anyone who has been on life support and survived? No. At least, I don't believe so. Do your parents have a strong relationship together? They're divorced, and Mom at least can't stand him. Dad doesn't really care. Do you ever feel like you’re sharing too much about yourself online? Oh, I absolutely used to. I still might, idk. I've tried to reel it back some. How many windows are in the room you’re in? Eight, but they're just small, vertical rectangles stacked together, so it's not as revealing as it sounds. What was the last necklace you wore? My spiked choker, I think, for pictures. Or maybe the one I have with a bunch of big silver skulls. Do you think there are more dimensions than what we’re able to perceive? I don't think so, no. Does anyone in your family have schizophrenia? My half-sister on Dad's side that I've never met. Have you ever been in an abandoned house? A shack, yeah. Do you like art? I positively adore it. I could NOT imagine life without it. How about theatre? I don't care for it. Have you ever made breakfast for someone? Yes, for Sara. Do you talk to your crush? If you have one. Yeah, she's my best fren. If yes, what do you usually talk about? Nowadays I ask her almost daily how she's doing in regards to her progress of recovering from both serious physical and mental stressors. I try to always be an available ear if she ever wants to vent. Would you rather read or watch a video about something? Watch a video. In what ways have you fulfilled some of the hopes and dreams you had as a teenager? I've fulfilled none of those. What’s one stressful thing you’ve been trying to deal with lately? How have you been dealing with it? Inexplicable, chronic boredom/serious anhedonia. I've just... put up with it. I get pleasure out of essentially nothing most days, and it sucks big time. I just try to distract myself and force myself to do things I usually love, though I've been bad about actually succeeding in making me do said stuff... Is there a regional chain of store/restaurant/etc. in your area that you feel very loyal to? MOTHERFUCKIN BOJANGLE'S, BITCH. You think YOU have good fries somewhere? Oh hunny, sit down. Oftentimes, people warn us against getting tattoos or body modifications or dying our hair unnatural colors because we could be judged poorly for them. But has a more “alternative” look ever worked out in your favor? Well, I like myself better with my piercings and tattoos, and that's all that really matters to me. Do you have any daily routine/habit of that you’re really proud of keeping up? No. .-. Pick one of the following activities to do in a forest (assume you would be equally good at each one of these): Foraging for mushrooms, identifying trees, searching for specific types of bugs, trying to build something out of fallen branches and logs. Searching for bugs w/ my camera!!! But that all sounds fun. What’s the hardest class you’ve ever taken? My most recent math course that I failed horribly.

[tinacchq]

Guys, gals, non-binary pals. There is a reason I do a podcast. Talking to a camera when no one is talking back is weird. What do I do with my hands? Do I stare into the camera so you feel like I’m making eye contact the whole time? Anyway, sorry my video skills suck, but this is vlogwars, the v literally stands for video so here I am. Who’s ready for 50 fun facts? I hope they’re fun anyway...

I got into acting because I wanted to “work with Mickey.” The mall had one of those open casting call things? They advertised roles for Disne (among other things), and 4 year old me thought that meant I got to work with the Mickey and Friends.

I cried until I got an audition.

I also cried when I got my job and realized Mickey wasn’t there.

I cry a lot????? Like, not just as a kid. Now, at 27, I cry a lot. Catch me in tears on my birthday cuz I got cards from fans. Seriously.

Chang is my last name by birth. Cohen is my adoptive parents last name. They hyphenated my last name legally to keep a part of my past with me.

I prefer dresses to jeans or dress pants. But yoga pants above everything - unless I can get my hands on someone else’s clothes. 

I have absolutely stolen Hunter’s and Sam’s clothes. Especially their hoodies. Sorry guys?

I am basically always the mom-friend.

I’ve always had a pet dog. We had a chihuahua when I was really little. And we moved to the Midwest and a yard, my dad insisted on a golden retriever. I got Benji when I moved out to LA and didn’t want to be alone!

I went through a goth phase as a teenager. 

Black is my favorite color, side effects of the goth life, I guess.

I have had every color streak in my hair you can think of as a result.

Blue was always my favorite. I think about doing it again sometimes.

I graduated from Purdue University and lived at home all four years of college. 

I was asked to be the guest speaker at my own graduation. I declined.

I majored in political science because I thought politics was how I was going to change the world. 

I’m honestly disappointed I’m not eligible for Presidency, despite living in this country since I was six months old.

I had my first serious relationship in college. Her name was Kelly, and it didn’t end well.

I had my second serious relationship when I moved to LA, but does that count as a fun fact? Based on the assumptions you all sent in for the vlog later, y’all definitely know about Ryan.

Hunter and Sam are the first roommates I’ve ever had that weren’t family. But they’re practically family now.

I need coffee to survive. I buy my kcups at Costco so I never run out.

I’m going home in six weeks for the first time in about three and a half years.

My parents are tired of always flying to me.

I miss being able to see the stars at night.

I miss fresh picked sweet corn in the summer.

I hate tabloid magazines, for obvious reasons, and will turn them around to look at the ad on the back cover while waiting in line at the grocery store.

I hate onions in every form except onion rings.

I want to visit Korea someday and get a glimpse of the life I could have had.

I sleep better when I’m cuddling with someone. I’ve seriously considered buying one of those boyfriend pillow.

My closet is organized by color in rainbow order.

I’ve been thinking about taking acting classes.

When AirPods first came out, I thought they were the worst idea ever. I can’t live without mine now. Earbuds... with wires??? It’s no from me.

I collect mugs when I travel somewhere. I try to do better than the Starbucks “you are here” series, but sometimes they’re too damn cute to pass up.

I’ve never done any kind of drugs, but when I was in college, drinking meant all but chain smoking cigarettes. I have a low tolerance for it now. Sorry, Ryan.

I don’t drink often, but when I do it’s usually a lot? Go big or go home.

But usually I’d go home and binge watch something even though Hunter likes to shame me for it.

I still prefer real books to ebooks.

I never went to a high school prom. Sometimes I wonder what I missed.

I broke my right middle finger when I was 10. The adults thought it was hilarious when I showed it off. I didn’t get it then. 

I don’t consider myself much of a singer, but I can break into song for just about anything you say.

The chips you saw me carrying around at the Bicon party? First potato chips I’d had in more than ten years. Turns out I’d deprived myself.

I’m more likely to be running Spotify than Netflix.

The texture of hand sanitizer freaks me out.

I wish they could capture the smell of a candle that just been blown out and make a candle of that.

I never grew out of putting necklaces in my mouth. Better than my thumb, I guess?

I always ask for receipts at the register. I’m pretty sure I only do this so I can clean my wallet every couple of weeks, recycle them, and feel accomplished about doing something productive.

Sudoku is my favorite kind of puzzle.

I have a shoebox of cords in my closet that I am pretty sure I don’t need but they go to something so I can’t get rid of them.

I’ve been getting eyelash extensions since I was 17. It’s one of those beauty standards I can’t give up??

I’m really competitive... hence why I made this video and now it’s over!! 

So I hope you had fun and now go watch more from my team Berry’s Blue Barracuda Bitches... or, formally #teambluebarracudas! Don’t make me lose???

[lumiereswig]

Please do the ENTIRETY of Forgotten! Hahaha I’m joking, pick your favorite part because that fic is v long 😍

happily, this gonna get l o n g

“The ball was flawless. In the garden, the roses continued to reach to the sky, and the storm brushed away; the lights shut off in the palace, one by one, and the music faded to silence. The prince went to bed with one or two or three pretty women he wouldn’t care for by the next day. Up in his room, Lumiere popped open a bottle of champagne.”

I set the opening to take place almost immediately after “Lit By The Sun,” though this time showing the evening Lumiere and Plumette never got—the stolen croquembouche up in their bedroom, the sharing of champagne among the servants. In the original timeline, obvs they didn’t get that—they got fire and feathers instead—but yeah. I am totally alluding to my own goddamn fics.

Plumette, lighting the candles by the bed, grinned at him over the flames. He laughed and raised his glass.

It’s not a lumiereswig post if there’s not a fucking fire reference.

“He’s turning just like his father—the prince’s father was like this, too,” Mrs. Potts explains to the musicians, who know nothing about the palace or its politics. They nod and move closer to each other on the bed. “We don’t know what he’d do without us. He’ll be fine, though; we try not to intervene. D’you only have wine up here, Lumiere? I could use a cup of tea.”

Foreshadowing of future bullshit, and also reminding the readers that Garderobe and Cadenza WERE NOT PART OF THIS PALACE-POLITICS SHIT. They did not deserve to be cursed!! fuck you agathe!!!! #justiceforgarderenza2k18

“If you cannot take a little sparkling wine, get yourself to bed, grandmother,” laughs Lumiere, and she swipes at his arms and makes him laugh. He eases into a seat between Cogsworth and Plumette and throws his arms around them.

Really trying to remind everyone how fucking close the staff is. The fam. Also, fuck you bill condon for not letting lumiere hug cogsworth every .3 seconds

“Think how long it has been!” he says. “Forty years for you, Cogsworth, but most of my life for mine. Why, I came here as a teenager—imagine me, only a little older than Chip! Fresh out of Paris and still reeking of the apothecary shop.” He grimaces, thinking of his father’s dusty store in a side-street of the city. He had fled, then, looking for the glamor his missed; in his room in Paris he had practiced dance steps, reveled in fashion, adopted the graceful movements of the court as rebellion against the bourgeois facts of an ordinary existence. He had come to this palace, and he had lit into life; dancing and feasting and glowing like gold made Lumiere’s heart sing.

EYYYY IT’S A HEADCANON I TOTALLY MADE UP

but tbh it makes sense to me (and has always made sense to me) that for all his glamor-gold, courtiers-and-candelabras bullshit, lumiere is not from an upper crust background. he’s too extra to have been born to it. That level of golden eyeliner and tequila has to be aspired to.

“We met in this palace, do you remember, mon trésor?” Plumette is close in his arms; her scent—fresh and light, like candy and macarons—right beside him. “I was only fourteen, and I loved you right away.”

“I loved you before I met you,” murmurs Lumiere. “I could never forget.”

Lots more foreshadowing, and also backshadowing. Gotta remind the idiots in the audience which motherfuckers in this story are in love.

The next day is their day off. It is their one day off in the year.

honestly this makes no sense (one day off a year???) but it’s adam. pre-curse adam. i can write him to get away with pretty much any bullshit and be like “””*shrug* uhhh he’s a beast, dudes, of course he banned puppies and kittens from the palace and hates daisies and sunshine”“

also tbh i hate the whole adam dialogue sequence, it’s really badly written

Adam stands in the lonely, empty halls. If he stands in the tower, he can see them weaving their way through the forest and down to the village, to spend their day in the company of each other, in Lumiere and Plumette’s case, or with loved ones, in the case of Mrs. Potts. No matter what, all the servants have each other. And Adam has nobody.

casual evermore references whenever we can’t get in a flame pun

….after all, at least when he yelled they looked at him.

someone told me this line broke them and i am forever pleased. yes mofos!!! relish my very slipshod, mostly shite grasp of the english language!!!!! revel in my poor grasp of human psychology!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Lumiere! The night grows old.”

 The crone grows young.

to make up for the shit in the previous chapter, I really enjoy this bit. the whole bashing-between-the-palace-and-the-village nonsense just makes me happy.

Belle wakes up to a jolt in the road, and the rough wool blanket on her face, and the smell of cheese and paint and horse and wind clinging to her skin. She rubs her eyes and tries to wipe away the sleep. They’re in the wagon, again, and Maurice is hunched up in the bench, encouraging Philippe to trot faster. The contents of Belle’s entire life are jammed in around her, a moving nest of drawings and gear-boxes and packets of cabbage-seed.

aaand we’re with belle. I had to rewrite this chapter about five million times because it wasn’t working—I had planned it out too much in advance, you know, and was just like regurgitating the writing rather than writing it—but I’m happy with the textural detail of this bit. Again, sometimes it pays to use the words around what you’re going for rather than the literal sensation; in this case, cheese and paint and horse and wind, and that rough wool blanket. Home, but also chill, and travel, and being uncomfortable, and the 18th century equivalent of going on a road trip and eating crackers in the backseat while dad’s up front and the crackers making the seat all gritty and reading books in the light of the passing streetlamps, ya feel?

Lilles, Reims, Amiens

i don’t understand french geography

A tiny, delicate gesture from his long fingers; it is a surprisingly sophisticated movement for a man in a yellow peasant’s vest, with candle wax creased in the dirt between his fingernails.

this whole chapter is slightly hard to read because it’s clearly trying too hard, but i hope i got across (or at least, whacked you across the forehead with) the bits i felt were important: lumiere’s current emptiness, but the last imprints of who he ought to be hanging around. i also tend to mention the peasant’s vest too many fucking times, just because the image of lumiere wearing anything that’s not satin & silk is fucking devestating. also, it will be important later, and i need yall to remember that LUMIERE DOESNT LOOK LIKE HE NORMALLY LOOKS

“I am nothing now,” says the man, in a flash of vehemence so sharp it is like seeing a flame in the middle of the forest. He looks up to her—his face broad, and white; and it is an empty face, and beyond the fire in his words there is nothing there at all. It is as if someone washed out all his color, and left him only with his yellow vest.  

you can tell, again, this is a lumiereswig fic because suddenly the language is all about fires and flashing and flickers and flames and there’s probably going to be a reference to the sun fucking setting at some point

also, honestly, this was hard to write because i was seeing it as a fucking movie in my head, and transcribing ‘ewan mcgregor lies on a village stoop looking fucking dismal’ is not what literary writing is made of

He welcomes her to the stoop with the flick of a wrist and a tiny nod with the pipe,

just to remind everyone once a-fucking-gain, Lumiere Is Not Normal, And You Can Tell Because He’s Not Being Very Welcoming. like honestly if you don’t say hello by doing a song and dance what the fuck are you doing

“I knew someone once who treasured books that way as well,” he says, and a smile drifts across his face, homeless. Something in him is sparking up at the story: dim, and faint, but laughing. “He once made me read the whole Odyssey—”

ok yes thank god the fic is finally getting good again

Sorceresses turning people to pigs, and the lily-eaters forgetting their homes, and Penelope undoing the days until her husband returns

ON. THE FUCKING. NOSE

also if i make a literary reference in a fic i am almost 100% of the time trying to make an obvious as fuck connection between the two

Deeply, deeply frightened. Not of the man on the stoop—she has never seen anyone more harmless, to be quite honest; he is such an empty man, with such silent, lifeless limbs—but of the thing inside his eyes when he speaks of his past. It is Other—a thing not rooted in a Parisian background, or the empty face, or the subdued soul. It is a large streak of gray inside the man’s blue eyes, a gray empty and unnatural and as hollow as cold ice. Staring at his eyes, Belle finds herself clutching her arms with fear.

ahhhh fuck subtlty has gone totally out the window. yall are kind and see what i was going for, but i swear this could be better done if i knew shit

It is obvious to Belle that this is a practiced ritual, the sharing of the secret wine.

in retrospect this fic would be sadder if cogsworth or lumiere weren’t friends, but uhh…i just couldnt bring myself to it.

“Oh là là, he acts as if the French accent is difficult,” says Lumiere, puffing smoke….

LIKE YOU CAN SPEAK FRENCH ANYWAY, YOU SCOTTISH DIPSHIT.

“Get off my stoop!” yells the woman. “D’you have wine down there, Lumiere?“

“If you cannot take a little cheap wine, get yourself to bed, grandmother,” calls Lumiere.

and that’s called taking yourself too seriously and referencing your own fic from a few chapters ago

“Mrs. Potts, the crockery-man’s wife,” says Lumiere, and takes a large gulp of the wine. “I barely know her. Thank God.”

PROBABLY THE BEST LINE IN THIS FIC SO FAR. fucking love the simplicity that does so much more than every labored reference to emtpy fucking limbs or colorless eyes beforehands. one simple line and we’re all fucking realizing THE EXTENT OF ALL THIS SHIT

i gotta head off now but i’ll do the rest later tonight

[send me one of my fics (or a bit from a fic) and i’ll do director’s commentary on it—ask here]