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quokkacore · 3 years

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everywhere at the end of time | z.cl

summary: in his old age, chenle can’t remember any of it anymore. but you do. you do, and it burns.

pairing: zhong chenle x fem!reader

genre: ANGST, fluff, slice of life, parents au

warnings: dementia, themes of grief, depression, language, suggestive content, period typical sexism, mentions of domestic abuse (not from chenle!), traditional gender roles, body image, kind of implied postpartum depression

word count: 3.8k

a/n: this was inspired by the caretaker’s everywhere at the end of time, a compilation of albums meant to simulate memory loss from dementia when listened to in one sitting. i listened to half of it yesterday, and it was so haunting i needed to write about it. if you decide to listen to it, please be careful. several analyses i’ve seen about it talk about how it can be very emotionally distressing. i personally didn’t feel too upset by it, but be aware.

There was a boy who smiled at you once, from across a dance hall. Long, long ago. His grin, boyish and playful, made your face heat up and your body turn to giggle to your friends. And then, suddenly, he was walking over to you, and reaching out his hand to you. He didn’t seem nervous at all. He looked like he had not a care in the world, as if life were a calm ocean with soft winds and he were a sailboat.

“My name’s Chenle,” He’d said, speaking loudly over the music, “Wanna dance?”

Swing was the thing back then. You barely had time to tell him your name before he pulled you onto the dancefloor and spun you around like there was no tomorrow. You were quite literally swept off of your feet, flying across the hardwood floor as the two of you laughed and danced. When the song was over, you were out of breath. You weren’t quite sure if it was because of how hard you’d danced or because he managed to steal your breath and your heart within a matter of minutes.

Up until then, you were damn sure that love at first sight was impossible. But you were suddenly very sure that love at first dance existed. You’d tell that story for years to come. How you danced a few more songs, how he took you to the side and you spent the next hour or so talking. How your girls tried to tug you away, saying that it was getting late, but you simply didn’t want to leave. You were hooked on him, and he was hooked on you. He begged to see you again, and you very quickly found a napkin and a pen to scratch down your home phone number on.

You said you’d wait for his call, and had left with a lovestruck look on your face. The entire way home, the girls didn’t let you hear the end of it. That he seemed sweet, he was quite the dancer, and my, was he handsome. You probably looked like a fool, mind turning to mush at how gentle his hands were on his waist, how contagious his laugh was, how tentatively he’d listened to you speak.

Once. Long, long ago. It’s all just a burning memory, now.

There was a boy who kissed you, once. It’d been a few months after you’d met. He’d been careful, and you’d bided your time. When he called for the first time, he was very respectful when your father had picked up. The two of you spoke for however long your parents allowed it, talking about anything, everything.

Childhood stories of how he got the scars on his knees. Times you’d gotten into trouble at school. How you were both turning 18, and how adult responsibilities were starting to set in. How Chenle was set to inherit his father’s business and he was terrified of failure. How you desperately wanted to study but your parents wouldn’t let you, because men don’t like it when girls are smarter, and how would you have time to find a husband if you had your nose stuck in books all day long?

Desperately, you both needed a break. Your parents let him take you out because he was a Zhong, and the Zhongs had money, and because he seemed quite taken by you. That was exactly what they wanted.

Chenle was a gentleman first and foremost when he stepped into your home. He spoke with your father about politics while he waited for you to finish getting ready, complimented your mother, and opened the front door for you as you were leaving, promising to have you back by ten o’clock.

One date turned to two, two to three. On the fifth date, when he took you on a walk in the park, he took you to the gazebo to sit on a bench in it. The birds were chirping, and you felt content, despite the dull ache in your feet because of your heels.

Chenle looked down, before meeting your gaze. “I wanted to ask you something,” He murmured. You tilted your head to the side, uncrossing your legs.

“What is it?”

He took your hand in his, leaning closer. “I really like you,” He admitted, “And I wanna be with you. You’re sweet, and fun, and you’re so beautiful. I think about you all damn day, and I think I’d die without you here.”

He smiled fondly, those dimples making an appearance once again. “Be my girl, maybe?”

Your heart did a backflip, and your yes had tumbled from your lips before you could even really think about it.

And then finally, on your seventh date, when he’d taken you to a bookstore and bought you a book about the Amazon rainforest, he kissed you in his car. He tasted like mint and his lips were hard against yours, but not forceful. Like he’d been waiting eons to kiss you and now he simply couldn’t hold himself back anymore. His hands held your face the entire time.

When you pulled away, you no longer saw a boy in front of you. You saw a young man in his place, watching you with reverence and desire.

“I’ve been waiting to do that ever since I first laid eyes on you,” Chenle whispered.

“Well then, don’t just sit there,” You answered, nuzzling your face into his hands, “Kiss me again.”

Kiss you he did. The memory feels like a dream, a sweet one at that. A bit fuzzy but you can recall the softness of his hands if you think about it hard enough.

It’s a memory. Sixty something years later, at least you still have it.

There was a man who teared up at the sight of you in white, once.

He asked you to marry him a year and a half later. Your parents loved him, because he was kind and respectful and rich. His parents tolerated you, because you didn’t talk back too much and your family was respectable enough. Of course you accepted. Who cared about what your parents thought? You adored this man, with his high pitched laugh and his cheeky words. He worshipped the ground you walked on, with your caring attitude and your loving smile.

You were shaking the whole time, trembling like a wet chihuahua on a winter day as your father walked you down the aisle. You watched as his best man, Jisung, whispered something to him, and he nodded, blinking furiously. He looked awestruck, mouth agape and eyes glossy.

When your father left you at the front of the altar with Chenle, your lover squeezed your hand. “I love you so much,” He whispered to you, just before the ceremony could officially begin.

For the first time ever, you saw Zhong Chenle get nervous. His voice was shaking slightly, and you could make out a single drop of sweat on his forehead. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, unable to say anything back as the officiant began the ceremony. He knew what you meant.

Your vows were the traditional cookie cutter vows, the good old fashioned “I do”s. You didn’t care. You knew you’d whisper your own vows to him later tonight. You knew he would do the same.

After that, you danced the night away. Drunk on champagne and love for each other, you could barely remember the party. Jisung gave a lovely speech. You knew that the band played the song you’d first danced to on that one fateful night. Your girls danced with his boys, and he pressed kisses to your cheeks and the top of your head.

You remembered what came after better, after everyone went home. Chenle stole you away to the honeymoon suite to peel your dress off, take off your veil and press kisses onto your hips, and whisper promises of everlasting love against your neck.

That’s all gone now. Even though it’s gone, you’re glad. Because years later, you remember. You look at the faded photographs in the scrapbooks and remember the moment they were taken. They’re all you have now. Because even though Chenle is still in your home, he isn’t Chenle.

There was a man who had taken care of you, once. You’d had your doubts about love, about married life. All of them stemmed from your parents’ marriage. Late night arguments, slamming doors, hands laid on your mother that left her reaching for foundation to hide the bruises during the day. Chenle was there to cast most of them to the side.

Most of them, because no matter how much you love each other, marriage is never a walk in the park. You tried to study. Chenle was paying for your education, much to his parents’ disapproval. Three years into your marriage, and two years into your studies, you got pregnant. Chenle was ecstatic. You, not so much.

It was hard for you. Your body changed, it became hard for you to concentrate. You ended up dropping out because it was simply too much for your mind to handle.

A few months later and you were recovering, trying to adjust to not getting any sleep and having to take care of a tiny human and the house all day while Chenle was off at work. And he doesn’t just want one, he wants two more.

“God, Lele, at least wait until Jiali can sleep on her own,” You huffed, trying not to be too loud. You had finally managed to get your daughter to sleep after a particularly fussy day, and if she woke up now, you were pretty sure you’d start crying too.

“But why not?” He asked, sitting down. “Don’t you want to give Jiali brothers and sisters to grow up with?”

“I do,” You answered, trying to ignore the throbbing in your head. “But I’m too tired to handle another pregnancy right now. It’s way too much, Chenle.”

Chenle sighed, resting his face on his chin. “It can’t be that hard—”

“Are you joking?” You snapped, standing up, “I’m awake in the morning to make you breakfast and feed Jiali. Once you’re off, I have to make the bed, change her diapers, clean the floors and the bathroom. I have to make sure Jiali isn’t getting into trouble and figure out why she’s crying—and she cries so much, Chenle! I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep since before she was born. I barely have time to take care of myself, much less another baby. I make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and tend to the garden, and bathe her when she gets dirty, and—”

“Y/N, I think you should—”

“I can’t handle another baby!” You cried, “I can’t, I won’t!”

A high pitched wail rang from the nursery, and all the fight you had in you drained instantly. You hadn’t realized how loud you were being.

“I’ll be right back,” You murmured, voice breaking. Before you could walk towards the nursery, a gentle hand on your wrist pulled you back. Chenle’s gaze had softened, cupping your cheek and wiping at a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.

“No, I’ll go,” He said quietly. “You go clean yourself up. Take a nap, I’ll make sure she gets back to sleep."

You didn't have it in you to argue.

About an hour later, he stepped into the bedroom, where you were curled up on the bed. You weren't asleep. He sat down on the other side of the bed, caressing your arm.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, bowing his head. "I wasn't thinking straight. I just got so excited at the thought of us finally having a family, I forgot to think about how you were doing. If you don't want anymore kids—"

"Lele," You murmured, "Of course I want to keep building our family. But I need time. I'm always so tired now. Let's wait until Jiali is off to school and then try for another one. I'm begging you."

He leaned over you, and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Whatever works best for you," He answered.

You kept your promise. Once Jiali was off to preschool, you got pregnant a few months later. By the beginning of next year, you had a baby boy—Yanlin.

This time, Chenle was more mindful of your wellbeing. He came home from work earlier, helped out around the house, told you to go out with the girls every now and then.

Over the years, you had one last child, a girl named Mei. The kids were more than a few handfuls, but the two of you managed.

Things were by no means easy. There were nights when Chenle decided to sleep on the couch because of a disagreement that had grown into something bigger. Insecurities about your body that grew into jealousy of his secretary, who was younger, more beautiful. Issues with the in laws as the both of you had problems setting solid boundaries.

But at the end of the day, he was your everything. This life you'd built for yourself made it all worth fighting for. You saw it when he tossed Mei up into the air, catching her as she giggled, "Again, daddy, do it again!"

Or when he talked to Jiali about the family business, how if she wanted, he'd teach her everything. When he helped Yanlin get back to sleep after he'd had a nightmare, singing him to sleep with that soft, gentle voice of his. When he looked at you from across the dinner table, years of domesticity and love growing into all of this.

Chenle was your home, the father of your children, a pillar you leaned on when things got difficult. You were the same to him. No argument could take that away.

The kids grew up and went to college. Much to your father in law's dismay, Yanlin didn't care much about the family business, while Jiali did—he hated how Chenle encouraged them to do what they wanted instead of pushing the status quo.

Times were changing. More and more women went to college, and you wanted for your daughters what you yourself weren't allowed to have: a good education, a professional career.

Since time flies like birds migrating for the winter, soon all of the kids were grown up, and you and Chenle were left in an empty house. By then, the two of you had started to change, too. Gray hairs started sprouting from your heads. Your backs started to hurt with more frequency. Your faces were starting to sag.

And still, you loved each other. You found new things to do with this new freedom. You read more books, spent more time in the garden. Chenle started singing around the house more, something he didn't even realize he was doing.

When you turned fifty, Chenle took you on vacation to Malta, and Chenle decided to officially announce his retirement, handing the business to your oldest. From here on out, the two of you had time to simply do whatever you wished. Chenle had saved a lot of money over the years, allowing the two of you to live comfortably.

Your kids married, and had kids of their own, and the two of you spoiled as much as you could. You'd bake cookies with your grandkids and spend the holidays telling them stories of your youth. Their favorite story was how you met their grandfather, and you fluffed the story up to make them laugh.

"He was the handsomest man I'd ever seen," You told him, "Tall, sweet, funny, the best shincracker I'd ever danced with."

"What's a shincracker?" One of your grandkids asked. You blinked, before letting out a fake sob, raising your head up.

"I'm so old," You wailed, the kids giggling at your theatrics. When you looked down, you smiled. "In my day, that's what you called someone who danced very well."

The four of them ohhh-ed in unison, and someone in the kitchen doorway laughed. "So, I was the best shincracker you'd ever danced with, huh?"

"Honey, I've told you that a million times!"

He walked over to you, patting the heads of your grandkids as he passed them. "Your grandma looked so surprised when I asked her to dance," He said to the children, "But she was the prettiest dame there that night, I couldn't not dance with her."

"What's a dame?"

Chenle stared at you, eyes wide. He lowered his head. "God, we're old!"

Now, most of your grandkids have grown up, and barely have time to visit. But you have the photographs hung up on the wall, of past birthdays, holiday parties, of your wedding.

They work to help you remember. But now, Chenle can't even get out of bed to look at them.

There was an old man who'd broken down in front of you, once. He'd been having trouble remembering where things were, like his keys and his glasses. Initially, it didn't worry you, since you'd been having similar issues. You only started to worry when one night at dinner, you brought up the fact that Mei had called to ask the two of you to dinner next week. He'd looked confused, and stared at you like you were from outer space.

"Who's Mei?"

You scheduled a doctor's appointment the very next day. It took about two months for everything to reach the same conclusion: early dementia. Chenle had gotten very quiet as the doctor handed you some pamphlets on treatments and the different stages. The whole drive home, he said nothing.

It was only once you got home that he sat down on the bed and crumbled to pieces. You walked over to him, and caressed his hair when he pressed his face into your stomach.

"I don't want to forget," He sobbed, "I don't want to."

He tried to fight it. Once the family knew, everyone started visiting more frequently. In the beginning, he could remember your grandchildren's names. Jobs and school were a bit difficult but there were eleven of them—it was hard for you, too.

On the occasion he did forget someone, it frustrated him. He'd have to excuse himself from the table for a few minutes, and the energy in the dining room would change completely. Suddenly everyone was aware of the ticking clock, and your family was starting to crumble.

You wanted desperately to hold it together, to super glue it and force it back into place. But so many things were out of your control, on top of Chenle's diagnosis. Mei was going through a divorce. Your youngest grandson, Lijie, was having behavioral problems and Yanlin looked to you for advice.

Chenle tried to hold on. You watched your husband pore endlessly over the family photos, trying to place names to the faces. He remembered his parents. He started to ask you where they were. You didn't know how to tell them they'd passed over thirty years ago.

He wandered through the house like he was lost, and you knew he was trapped somewhere in his mind, everything disintegrating slowly around him. Sometimes he'd come up to you and give you a kiss.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," He murmured.

Some days were better than others. He would sing old songs from your youth, and try to dance with you in the kitchen. You both still remembered the steps but were too stiff and slow to do them properly.

Eventually, one of your grandkids came to live with you. Daiyu had studied to become a nurse, and now, Chenle needed around the clock care. It was simply too risky for him to be left alone. He'd try to go outside, saying that he was late for a meeting, or that Jeno—who had passed two years before his diagnosis—had invited him to his house to watch the game.

He forgot how to hold a spoon, how to walk properly. After four years, he became bedridden, speaking in slow, short sentences. You'd read to him after lunch, from books you'd acquired over the years. He seemed to enjoy one book the most: a battered old copy of a book about the Amazon rainforest.

You knew your Lele was in there somewhere. You could see it when Jiali and her husband came to visit, and he asked her about the secret handshake the two of them had even though he couldn't remember her name. When you reached for his hand, he would press a kiss to yours, unsure as to why he was doing it. And when you walked past the bedroom, sometimes you could hear him humming to himself—a lively, fast tempo song that a boy had once asked a girl to dance to, lifetimes ago.

There was a man named Zhong Chenle, once. He was good at dancing and a lovely singer, he was a loving father and husband. He's gone now. In his place is someone who has his face, but isn't really him. He can't remember how to speak. When you read to him, his lips move, but no sounds come out. His eyes drift across the room, looking for things he doesn't know the name of. His hands are gnarled and his fingers twitch, itching to do something, anything, but unsure of how to do it.

The last time you spoke to your Chenle had been three years prior.

"Do I know you?" He asked, voice small. You smiled at him, biting back tears. No matter how many times he asks you this question, it hurts every time. You'd learned to play along with it. Telling him the truth would only scare him, confuse him further.

"My name is Y/N," You told him, "I'm an old friend. We used to go out dancing together."

His eyes were void of anything until a second later, recognition pooled into them.

"Y/N," He sounded out slowly, "We should—we should go dance again someday."

"Someday," You agreed, nodding, "But now we have to wait until you're better."

"Until I'm better," He answered with a smile, dimples making your heart crack even further.

All he—and you—could do now was wait for the end. Truthfully, you've made peace with it. You'd be heartbroken to see him go but happy to see him finally rest. He started his decline seven years ago, and the past five have been spent like this. It's sad enough to see him in this way, to watch Daiyu try to feed him when he barely even remembers how to eat anymore. A shell of who he once was, a living ghost.

The family knew, old friends knew. That was all that mattered to you. That there had been a man named Zhong Chenle once, who wasn't scattered in the wind.

Once. Long, long ago. It's all just a burning memory, now.

#nct dream x reader #zhong chenle x reader #kwritersworldnet #nct angst #chenle angst #kpop angst #kpop au #nct au #nct dream angst #chenle x reader #nct scenarios #kpop scenarios #my writing

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shiavanzin · 4 years

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💀 * [ timothee chalamet + cis male + he/him ] —— have you met zigmund ‘shia’ ivan vanzin? they are a twenty year old junior currently studying political science. they live on decker house, and word around campus is that this gemini is witty + charming, as well as manipulative + self destructive. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. snorting lines off a priceless mirror, writing ancient runes in cigarette ash, the thrill of victory that accompanies a low ‘checkmate’.

hello all, my name is pepper and i have never been on time for anything, ever, in my life so this is very on brand for me! that said, i am very excited to be here. shia is one of my favourite muses but because of his background it’s kind of hard for me to find places to play him, so i really jumped at the chance to be a part of this rp. that said, he is heathen so sdkjdsjk you’ve been warned, i suppose.

ABOUT THE MUN. fuck this *unfocuses my eyes*

fun fact about me, i’ve been working every day for the last ten days so i love that for me dkjdkj which is literally why me getting myself here was so chaotic honestly but i’m here i made it and we love to see it. honestly i am just a humble fergie enthusiast (patiently waiting for my girl to come back from her hiatus. any day now). i would die for a good aesthetic like pinterest owns my ass. i am big fan of the bachelor and specifically demi from the bachelor (demi from the bachelor if you are reading this i would like to hang out with you friday when i am free. please contact me if you’re able to hang out (on friday when i am free)). i am a huge superhero nerd. the first fanfic i ever wrote was a teen titans/danny phantom crossover and honestly? most ambitious crossover of all time, sorry endgame. i’ve never seen star wars or lord of the rings, and i’m okay with that. oh, and funnily enough i have never played chess which is about to be very ironic and i think that’s the perfect transition into shia’s bio.

BIO. child abuse tw, addiction tw, drug tw, and i think that’s it rip.

(tldr literally just click the link in the second bullet point for a summary because that’s how shia grew up, with psychologist parents determined to make him a prodigy. he is technically a prodigy now as the youngest grandmaster in history. his family is weird and fucked up and cold blah blah blah takes a lot of drugs, drinks a lot of alcohol to cope with his messed up childhood blah blah blah went to boarding school for high school. oh, and there’s a meme of him. and that’s pretty much it.)

okay first of all here is shia’s pinterest board and here is his playlist, which is honestly just??? really messy and just filled with songs that remind me of him (like it doesn’t flow at all i’m pretty sure yk) so! yeah!

second of all, shia’s backstory is thoroughly inspired by a true story. like I legitimately found this (look at the early life portion to see what i’m talking about if you want but i’m about to explain it all below anyways) and was like !!!???? so yes, that’s how this mess was born (although i highkey think that gerard way got inspo from that family for the umbrella academy like??? that’s my little conspiracy theory. WHERE ARE THEIR ROYALTIES GERARD!)

Shia doesn’t remember life before he was adopted. Before he was Zigmund Ivan Vanzin, the fourth child of the carefully selected Vanzin 6. Honestly he’s not quite sure his life prior is of much importance, because things didn’t truly get crazy until after he was officially taken in by the Vanzin family at the tender age of two.

Shia and his five siblings were all part of an educational experiment carried out by their parents, Moira and Yakov Vanzin, in an attempt to prove that children could be trained to be prodigies if immersed in a specialist subject from a very early age. ‘Geniuses are made, not born’, was the tagline of their parents thesis, and the foundation on which Shia and his siblings’ entire childhood was based on. They would all be molded into prodigies, and they would be living, breathing proof of their parents achievements.

Because of the magnitude of their experiment, and Shia’s parents reputation (both of Shia’s parents was a very famous educational psychologists in their own right, and due to their fame, their experiment and their children were covered in magazines and newspapers worldwide. To this day a quick google search will lead you pictures of the Vanzin 6 growing up slowly on the covers of publications such as Times Magazine, Forbes, People, and of course a myriad of academic magazines as well.) they received heavy criticism at the time from some western media for ‘depriving the siblings of a normal childhood.’ But since all of the Vanzin children were born and raised in Russia, that criticism didn’t do much in the way of stopping them. Shia’s parents coolly ignored it all. They wanted to leave a mark. To change the future. And they both truly believed that their research would do that. They believed their work would completely revolutionize the way that children were educated, and that therefore, they would revolutionize the future.

And so the children were affectionately dubbed The Vanzin 6 by the media that wasn’t completely against the experiment. A cute little nickname smacked on what would normally be considered a child endangerment lawsuit. Sure, there were still those that protested, but their cries were quiet in comparison to the roars of the intrigued, of the curious, of the fans, because of course there were fans. So it goes without saying that Shia’s first photo op was when he was still in diapers. He smiled cheekily through the whole thing, in striking contrast to his siblings all staring empty eyed into the camera. Their lives were pretty much put on constant display from that point on, and honestly, at least in terms of Shia’s approach to photo ops, not much has changed on that front.

Shia’s parents educated their six children at home, each with their own specific subject to focus on. From the age of four, Shia, or Zigmund, as his birth certificate so lovingly displayed, (it should be noted that Moira and Yakov named all of their children after psychologists, and that Shia was simply unlucky enough to get Freud. So perhaps lovingly wasn’t the right word.) showed a talent for chess, and therefore that talent was ‘nurtured’. In other words, Shia was only allowed to live and breathe chess from the cursed day his chubby little fingers picked up a chess piece to, presumably, the day he died. If he wasn’t eating, sleeping, or doing his school work, Shia was playing chess. First he played against his father, and mother, and siblings and when that stopped posing a challenge, he got involved in official competitions. Those were somehow even less of a challenge, but granted, his siblings were being trained into geniuses. At first he played children his age, and then slightly older, and then much older, which Shia will admit, was the most fun. Even as a child there was just something about seeing a grown man go red in the face with frustration as he lost to a child. Something amusing. Something powerful. Admittedly, chess got old. But that specific red faced look never did.

Shia rose up the ranks slowly and steadily from then on, already creating quite a stir in the world of chess by the age of six. And considering this was what they wanted, you would think his parents would be proud. Thrilled even. However that was not completely the case.

For as long as Shia can remember his relationship with his parents had been more ‘professional’ than affectionate. To start, he and his siblings all called them both by their first names. Considering he was adopted, Shia would never know what his first word was, that memory was lost to him and kept only by the parents who didn’t want him enough to keep him in the first place. But even if he was born to Moira and Yakov, if the two were his flesh and blood, he knows with absolute surety that the first words to come out of his mouth wouldn’t have been ‘Mama’ or ‘Papa’. The two never referred to themselves that way, and they didn’t expect their children to either. Shia remembers with painful clarity first and only time he tried. Or rather, he remembers the stomach turning look of both confusion and contempt from Moira that followed the one time he tried. He never tried again.

His parents didn’t offer much when it came to what normal parents did he supposed. He didn’t receive much physical affection from them, or sugar coated words. They were their parents, yes, but they were also their handlers, and being raised with that emotional distance definitely had an impact on Shia’s psyche. All Shia wanted to do was impress his parents. Maybe get a good job, or a hug, or a smile. The kind of things he’d seen other kids get just for breathing, or using a toilet. But he knew his parents expected more. He knew they expected the best. So the only way he knew how to achieve his goal of attaining his parents affection was to work harder. To be the best he could at chess, the best anyone could at chess, and once he did that he knew his parents would reward him. He knew they would love him for taking the first step to make their dreams come true. When he was young he used to have dreams of that reward. Of how good it would feel to know they were proud of him. He imagined it feeling warm. And light, like he’d read in books. He imagined it feeling worth it.

Shia and his siblings were never the children that got asked that question, you know, the question that all children can relate to answering with bubbling wide eyed excitement. ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ The answer was laid out for them. It was decided before they even had a chance to think about it, and any time someone made the mistake of asking them the question, their parents answered for them. She will be the world’s youngest prima ballerina. She will be a legend in the musical field. He will be grandmaster. No, dreams weren’t for the Vanzin children, so Shia’s kept his quiet. Kept it close to his heart where his parents couldn’t admonish him for being sentimental or fickle or any of the other large words they used that Shia was only instructed to look up in the dictionary. His dream of gaining their favour was his, and his alone. Shia learned very quickly in life to keep your cards close, and your heart buried.

And after years of hard work and dedication, and a lot of blood sweat and tears, Shia did it. He won. He finally beat everyone there was to beat, and at the youngest recorded age of ten to boot. Shia was officially the world’s youngest grandmaster. His record has still yet to be beat to this day. And that day, he looked to his parents, ready for them to run to him and shower him with the affection and praise he longed for. It didn’t take long for the ecstatic expression on his young face to fall.

The most Shia got was an approving nod from his mother from across the room. His father, for his part, was on a phone call. That was it. The crowd roared around him, and the audience clapped with the enthusiasm usually reserved for sports games and concerts. The reporters at the event stumbled over their words trying to communicate the record breaking event that they had just witnessed, from one of the lionized Vanzin 6. It was chaos, beautiful, celebratory chaos, all for Shia, but it was all a blur around him. He couldn’t see it. All he could see was Moira and Yakov, turning away from him and towards each other, whispering god knows what. He had their full attention for maybe all of a minute. They didn’t even smile.

(There is live video of Shia having his dream crushed right before his eyes. Recordings of it on youtube. How many people can say that, aye? The true power of celebrity. The gif of Shia’s shocked and empty expression amidst a crowd of ballistic celebration even became a meme at one point, a meme that Shia later bitterly used on occasion, because what was more powerful than using a meme of yourself? Than using your own pain for humour? Nothing, in Shia’s opinion.)

After Shia became grandmaster everything stopped. After all, there was nothing more to train him for. He had achieved his goal. He had won. And with his parents no longer focusing on training him and leaving him completely to his own devices, well, they stopped paying attention to him completely. Shia was all at once almost completely emancipated. The freedom of it all was freeing for all of a week. Then, Shia started to feel painfully invisible.

Prior to becoming grandmaster, Shia was quiet. Polite. Very calm, very observant, a bit distant and reserved for a kid, but no real red flags. Afterwards, however? After he felt like his parents no longer had any use for him, no longer had any anything for him, well Shia lashed out. Rebelled. Became louder, sharper tongued, more mischievous. He started acting out in hopes that they would give him some of the attention he so desperately craved, and while they did, none of it was positive. Shia quickly became the problem child of the Vanzin 6, somehow both his parents pride and joy as the first of their children to reach their goal, but also their greatest disappointment as the first one to turn against them.

Without chess to focus on, Shia turned to his siblings for entertainment. However Shia’s version of entertainment was never completely harmless. From a young age he had a habit of using people like chess pieces, of manipulating them and turning them against each other or towards each other for his own cheap entertainment. Shia could singlehandedly trick his siblings out of an argument when he was younger (or into an argument, when he was feeling particularly chaotic). He could trick the few peers he came across into simply giving him their toys or snacks, and trick bullies into leaving him alone a good amount of time too. It was both a gift and a curse, because people were never quite happy when they caught on. Most didn’t but the few that did were memorable in the violence of their anger. And besides, his parents never liked it. Shia would come home with an armful of toys that other kids ‘gave’ him and his parents would always force him to go bring them back, despite the fact that the Vanzin children were never really allowed toys of their own. The fact was, Shia’s moral compass was faulty. He never quite understood why what he was doing was wrong no matter how many times his parents tried to explain to him that people were not to be used as tools. Shia didn’t get how what he was doing was that much different from what they were. After all, weren’t Shia and his siblings nothing more than tools in his parents experiment? He asked them the question once. All he got for his efforts was a stinging cheek and a cold reminder from Moira not to be cheeky.

As Shia got older his rebellion got worse. In his defense, he was left unsupervised. While his siblings were busy with their training, Shia would be sneaking out to parties or bars or clubs. It was in those places that he was introduced to his first great loves. Drugs and alcohol. Moira and Yakov kept the Vanzin mansion dry as a monastery, so Shia had never even had a sip of beer before the age of thirteen. But the moment he did, he was a goner. Or rather the moment he got drunk he was a goner. There was something so beautiful to him about intoxication. So addicting, for lack of better word. When he was high, or drunk, or preferably, both, he felt happy. He didn’t remember his parents, or his responsibilities, or his failures, or even his successes. He was warm. And light. And content. Turns out he didn’t need his parents to make his dreams come true. Just a bottle of vodka and a line or two of coke.

After about a year of Shia coming home drunk or high or a combination of the two, eventually his parents couldn’t take it anymore (in the sharp words of Moira Vanzin, ‘Zigmund your behaviour is distracting your siblings from their training’) and sent him off to boarding school. Honestly, it hurt. His parents were basically getting rid of him because he was inconvenient, and he could never forget their out of sight out of mind approach to the whole thing.

Boarding school flew by in a mess of Riot Club like antics during which Shia did things like discover his bisexuality and somehow, against all odds, graduate. (TBH I wanna leave this pretty open in case there is any other boarding school kids who could have perhaps gone to the same school Shia did, so hmu if you have a boarding school kiddo.) He definitely attributes his acceptance to Holloway on his name completely, because honestly Shia was completely high when he wrote his college application, so high that he can’t even remember why he did it. He had no plans of going to college before that, but he figured... why not party in america and waste his parents money? What was stopping him?

So here he is, a whole mess in another country, and honestly he’s having the time of his life. Well, you know. Until people started dying. That isn’t ideal.

PERSONALITY. emotionally damaged, but make it sexy.

manipulative (we been knew) sometimes without really trying to be though. will manipulate people to get what he wants, but sometimes he just thinks of it like a nudge in the right direction. like he’ll manipulate a friend into talking to that girl they’ve had a crush on for half the year just because he wants them to be happy (and also he’s tired of hearing them talk about her)

selfish/self centered cause it’s just not?? his first instinct to think about other people’s feelings?? and it’s also kind of hard for him to empathize sometimes, especially if he’s never been in that situation or he doesn’t like KNOW and CARE about the person.

charming and charismatic, he’s got a great smile and he knows how to use it. also just very endearing if you don’t know him well, and even sometimes when you do. this is mostly a facet of him being very manipulative because he usually uses his charm to get what he wants, but still.

witty oof, this boy’s humour is inspired by klaus hargreeves and villanelle (what a duo,,, when will they meet) and he’s very rarely serious. always telling jokes, always pretty nudge nudge wink wink, even in very serious situations when he shouldn’t be. uses humour as a coping mechanism 100%, whether that’s at his own expense or someone else’s. honestly, can be kind of mean with it? like if anyone can go for the jugular with a joke it’s shia.

a big flirt honestly. will flirt with anyone he’s interested in, and will sometimes flirt without really noticing it? sometimes will flirt just for sport, or for fun, or to bug someone, or throw someone off. the type to flirt with his professor as a joke (why has he not been kicked out of here already) and has probably slept with a professor as a result. not really a player, but he enjoys physical intimacy and he knows how to get it. has been in more than a few relationships in the past, but is never very good at it because he’s almost constantly looking out for number one, aka himself. so? a mess basically.

vengeful, petty, spiteful, vindictive, all when angry or jealous or feeling as if he’s been wronged in some way but we been knew,,, we been knew.

rebellious !! still the type to suggest skipping town and partying instead of sticking around for exams. not really invested in school tbh. he has no idea what he’s going to do with his future.

a big superiority complex! cocky as hell! kind of acts like he’s the best thing since sliced bread because he was over praised as a child by like everyone but his parents. the type to think he ain’t shit deep down so he acts like he’s The Shit yk

craves love and intimacy but thinks romance is a sham. a big pessimist like ‘we’re all just floating on this rock life is meaningless we’re all gonna die anyways’ pessimist but kind of a realist tbh, he just doesn’t see the reason to sugar coat things unless ofc he’s manipulating someone then he’ll say whatever he needs to

trust issues, after his parents tbh. the only people he trusts 100% are his siblings and maybe a few close friends. i honestly may put in a wanted connection for his siblings at one point, but that’s for later.

HEADCANNONS. running for your life (from shia labeouf) he’s brandishing a knife (it’s shia labeouf)

a thick russian accent. speaks pretty impeccable english though because his parents tutored him in the english as a child. He also speaks a bit of french, german, and latin, and is currently taking mandrin chinese.

Is taking political science because he figures being a politician is just manipulating people on a larger scale, and he’d be right. However he’s not sure if that’s what he’ll actually end up going into. Honestly, Shia isn’t the slightest bit sure what he actually wants to do with his life.

His eldest sibling Jean was the one to give Shia the nickname ‘Shia’ after he confided in her that he’s always hated his name, and he’s gone by it ever since. His parents still call him Zigmund, and some of his siblings probably still call him Zig or Ziggy but like i said sdkdsk he has always hated the name (he does not want to be associated with the guy who invented the concept of the Oedipus complex). The only nickname he can stomach sometimes is Z, but other than that he’ll only accept Shia (or Shy to a select few).

was never raised with a television?? didn’t even go to a MOVIE THEATER until he was like fourteen??? so he has absolutely NO idea who Shia Laboeuf really is. People keep making jokes about it to him and he’s like ???? Honestly he googled him once and just gave up after thirty seconds, convinced people were fucking with him because this person couldn’t be real dlksdskld anyways yeah, knows next to nothing about a lot of pop culture, especially anything like before 2010, but has learnt a bit since coming out of his families little bubble. But there are still times where Shia’s like ??? what tf is that and someone’s got to explain what rolly polly olly is to him yk

Shia has a photographic memory, but honestly he doesn’t really care about it. In his eyes having a photographic memory doesn’t make you a genius, it just makes tests easier. Like to him it just means he doesn’t have to flip through his source material for quotes sdkjsdjk. It’s nothing exciting to him sdkdsk he skipped a grade because of it though but honestly?? All he really uses it for now is receipts like a little shit. Shia will legit be in an argument like “oh that wasn’t what you said in that text you sent to me at 4:45 on monday june 3rd 2017???” sdkjsdj. Occasionally he also uses it as a party trick, like if you give him a specific date he could probably tell you the newspaper headline on that day.

Has zero athletic skill. Absolutely none. Would one hundred percent lose in a fight, which is funny because he talks SO MUCH SHIT. He talks constant shit, and yet if you were to throw a punch at Shia he would go down like a rock. He doesn’t particularly care if he gets his ass beat though, so he continues to talk large amounts of shit, occasionally from a safe distance but usually not.

Honestly if you were to see him and his parents interact today it’d be wild, like you wouldn’t even know they were related. They literally act like strangers or acquaintances. Like it’s all like ‘Moira, Yakov, good to see you.’ and ‘You too Zigmund. I trust you’ve been well?’ and that goes on for like five minutes and then Shia has to hyperventilate in a corner for a bit. Like it’s so weird but it’s just been like that all his life. Normal healthy affection??? He doesn’t know her

Has a tattoo of a queen piece on the index finger of his left hand, as a little nod to what used to be his passion. Is also left handed.

Has a scar through his eyebrow that he got on a wild night out when he was thirteen. He got drunk and like passed out, and hit his head hit the edge of a table in the process. There was a lot of blood and a lot of panic, but in the end Shia only had to get a few stitches and he was very quickly back on his bullshit the moment he left the hospital. Literally, he went straight from the hospital to a house party (after all, it’s not like his parents even came to visit him and make sure he got home, so Shia simply did whatever he wanted to.)

Has a helix piercing in his right ear. It’s just a very basic silver hoop though.

His parents never really let the siblings have hobbies, but I imagine one of Shia’s siblings is a horse riding prodigy so he has some experience in that. One of them is a language prodigy, hence why Shia is conversational in so many. Jean, the eldest, is a musical prodigy and has lovingly taught Shia a bit of piano and violin. He is nowhere near as good at those things as he was at chess, but doing any of them reminds him of his siblings, so he tends to actually turn to them more often than chess. If I’m being honest I don’t think that Shia has played a game of chess since he became grandmaster unless forced to by his parents?

Mentally Shia knows he’s an adult now and that his parents technically have no control over him, but emotionally whenever they look at him he just… feels like that empty little kid again.

Tends to always have one of those travel sized bottles of vodka on him so if you’re feeling stressed hit your boy up.

Has honestly been rich since the day he was adopted, like literally has no idea how to function without copious amounts of money?

Shia is staying in the Decker dorms because he thrives on the chaos.

Definitely an addict, definitely high functioning though but also like? It isn’t a secret? I contemplated making it a secret but once again Shia has always got a travel sized bottle of vodka on him sdkjsd you can see him casually spiking his drinks if you’re ever out with him, he pops whatever pills he can find in his pockets in the morning. So yeah it is not a secret that Shia is an addict, he is rarely sober and that’s the way he likes it. Doesn’t consider himself an addict though, funnily enough.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. god we finally got here sjsdj if you got this far you’re the real mvp.

okay to start here is my wc tag for shia so i would absolutely love anything inspired by anything in that tag.

FRIENDS FROM BOARDING SCHOOL. i already talked about this a bit but i would absolutely love it so i’m mentioning it again sdjds i am really flexible about where shia went to boarding school, so literally wherever your muse went works for me. all i want is some dead poets society antics you feel me.

CHILDHOOD FRIEND. listen to me. i love childhood friend connections so much give it to me please and i will give you my first born child in exchange. again, shia grew up in russia, but it could be a long distance friendship if need be. we can make it work, i will literally change stuff around to make it work.

PREVIOUS ONE NIGHT STANDS. honestly shia would have multiple of these cause he’s a hoe. did he ghost your muse? did they mutually ghost each other? was it a one night stand gone wrong?

ENEMY. it’s so easy to hate him man. anyone who wants to hate him please feel free. did shia screw your muse over? did he manipulate them? did he i don’t know throw up on their shoes while particularly drunk? maybe shia was high when he did the thing they hate him for, maybe he doesn’t even remember but he just hates them cause they hate him. it’s the principle of the thing really. (me in my head: *junie b jones vc* princiPAL cause he’s your PAL). unreasonable completely baseless hate for no reason at all?

FLIRTATIONSHIP. a fun ‘will they, won’t they’ kind of situation because why not. what’s stopping us. just fun banter on both ends.

EXES. shia doesn’t date so he wouldn’t have too many of these but it would be fun. maybe their relationship was toxic because of shia’s toxic ass traits skjdsj maybe things were getting real and shia dipped like the coward he is. maybe it’s was a the colonel x sarah esque relationship where no one got it because they both seemed to hate each other the whole time and they very much did hate each other but were dating anyways. maybe it’s maybeline.

FWB/EWB. honestly this is more shia’s speed, so he’d probably have more of these as well as ex-fwbs/ewbs, which is such a fun concept. did it stop because someone caught feelings? or did they just get bored of each other? some other reason? but okay, back to the point, yes sexy enemies. sexy friends. we love to see it.

HIGH SOCIETY. someone he gets fucked up with! multiple people he gets fucked up with! they party together, drink together, do lines together. it’s a beautiful relationship of them all enabling each other.

GOOD INFLUENCE. counter actively. someone who tries to get shia away from his self destructive tendencies. someone who’s door he comes knocking at when he’s black out drunk because he knows they’ll give him a place to sleep. Someone he calls when he ends up in butt fuck nowhere with no shoes after a crazy night. Also, as wild as it is, flip it, where Shia’s hypocritical ass cares about your muse enough to try and take care of them. High off his ass but still trying to stick his fingers down their throat so they don’t get alcohol poisoning. They text him when they’re ‘going home’ when they were pre-gaming at their house in the first place. Shia is very ‘you would die without me’ about this person.

BAD INFLUENCE. shia is the devil kronk on their shoulder. he tempts them to the dark side with promises of a good time, and he delivers thank you very much.

A DRUG DEALER. i mean??? i’m ngl shia i very dependent on drugs, so he would probably keep this person close and do his best to keep them happy.

SOMEONE SHIA CHEATS FOR OR CHEATED FOR. maybe shia did their homework or took a test for them, all for an ominous ‘you owe me’?

SOMEONE SHIA SCREWED OVER. he does this all the time so yeah there can be multiples of this skjsdj shia is honestly like genuinely loyal to only a few people, so there are probably more than few people he left in the dust to save his own skin. maybe he saw the cops closing in on a party and left your muse for dead! or whatever else yk.

ANNOYANCE. it’s shia he’s the annoyance.

okay i think that’s all i’ve got, and if you made it all the way down here you’re??? an icon??? wow, i really can’t believe. please like this if you want to plot and i will come running!

#holloway.intro #s.v. | intro.#the only reason i used that surf gif is cause #??? when else will i get to use it #literally never

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gods-and-pawns · 3 years

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All flower asks for Cimmerian.

Cimmerian:

O-oh jeez, that’s...a lot of questions, huh? Well, better let’s get to it then.

Alisons: Sexuality?

I’m polysexual.

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

Trans man. He/him pronouns, please.

Amaryllis: Birthday?

December 1st. I’m a winter baby.

Anemone: Favorite flower?

Uhm, sunflowers, probably.

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

If I have to be honest, I don’t really...watch TV all that often. But uh, anything they air on Animal Planet, to be honest. Do you remember that old TV show about the life of meerkats? Fucking loved that shit.

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

That...really depends. I wouldn’t go too far, after all, I don’t know this person, but basic respect and kindness are always a given. I’m not a hero either, I wouldn’t risk my life for them. So, I’d say most of the time, just small favours.

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

Literally fucking anything that leaves Vincent’s mouth once he gets a little tipsy, this man lacks filter when drunk and it’s fucking great. I know you probably expected some quote with deep meaning, since I have a major in English, but I am very sorry to disappoint.

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

Pain drink is going to be Whiskey, but anything a little bit fancier then it’s Pina Colada. I like sweet things.

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Yes, absolutely, zero hesitation.

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

Hm...unfortunately...

Baneberries: Favorite song?

........Two Trucks by Lemon demon. Don’t judge me, it’s a fucking great song.

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

Hm, well, they were great, really. Very caring and loving...Yeah, this question is making me feel sad.

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

Uhhh...I’m gonna say it’s either North, Tiff, Han or Bright. I’d say Foster too, but...I don’t know, we kind of had a falling out because of our work. It’s hard to meet up.

Begonia: Favorite color?

...I’ll give you one guess.

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

Toads, love these fat boys.

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

Definitely morning. Not that I like waking up early, but I definitely function better in the mornings.

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

A hognose snake, they have very cute noses.

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A teacher, of all things. Mostly because I thought teachers got free summer too. Then I went to high school, saw what little shits my peers were, and immediately changed my decision.

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

I love kids! I always wanted to be a father. Unfortunately, with being nearly 40 now and swarmed with work...I don’t think that’ll ever happen.

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

Cars, because of trauma that I’d rather not get into. And, uh...I have apeirophobia. It’s...stupid, I know, many people would probably like to live on for forever. But for me, it’s just...it’s horrible. I don’t even know why. I guess it has something to do with existential dread.

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

I had a lot of adoptive siblings and cousins, we were always close, and would always get into trouble together. I was raised on a farm with woods nearby, you can imagine I had a lot of opportunities and places where I could get hurt at, and I did. I was a stupid and reckless kid.

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?

Oh man, that’s a loaded question...Honestly? I’d like to reach out to my family, spend my last day with them.

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

Taken~ By two wonderful, cute men.

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

Oh, there’s a lot of places I’d like to explore, probably too many to list. As long as it’s as far away from civilisation as possible, I’m good.

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

I like to be held, I love hugs, they make me feel safe and loved. Preferably under a warm blanket with my partner or partners, late in the evening, the rain falling outside and the room is nearly completely dark as we cuddle...

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

I used to want to, as a teen, but unfortunately no...I did see some people tattoo over their burn scars, and I’ve been thinking about it, but considering how large my scars are it’d cost a lot, be very time consuming and most likely painful. So I don’t know, but I’m considering it.

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?

Used to have a few as a teenager, now I only have one in my right ear.

California Poppy: Height?

I’m 5′9′’.

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

In ghosts? No, not really.

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?

I’ll let you guess.

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

Sure did, I still sometimes do when my nightmares get the best of me.

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?

Jackie.

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

Northy, obviously~

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

My heart tells me Comic Sans, but my brain’s telling me to shut the fuck up and pick a normal font.

Columbine: Are you tired?

Always, 24/7.

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

Autumn, we’re close to Summer and god damn it didn’t even start but I’m already over it.

Coneflower: Dream job?

I’m pretty content with my current one, but uh...maybe something less stressful? Probably a book author.

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert, definitely.

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

Honestly? I’d probably give my life to them. It mostly depends on the person though, and how much I care about them.

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

I had a ragdoll elephant named Mr Trunk. Still do, actually, he’s one of the few things I took with me when I started working here. He’s now sitting on my bookcase at my apartment.

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Sagittarius.

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

I don’t think so, no.

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

Well...I guess overcoming my trauma counts as an accomplishment?

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?

Well, first of all, my biological parents are dead and my adoptive ones think I’m dead. But, if that weren’t the case, I don’t think Ma and Pa are the kind fo people who’d try to get between me and my partners. I feel like if they were legitimately concerned for me or had deep worries about my partner, they’d talk to me about it. So, nothing too dramatic.

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

...I’d rather not talk about them.

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

Does writing shitty slashfics count?

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

Do you want a list or something?

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

Well...I started dating Jackie.

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

Tiring, so the usual.

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

...It could be worse, honestly.

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

...Uh...if my relationship with Karlos and Jack lasts...well...uhm...God, don’t tell them I said that, alright? But...getting married seems...nice...

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

My friends. They’re great, I don’t know where I’d be without them. Especially Tiff, they do so much for me...don’t tell them I said that, they don’t need any more of an ego boost.

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?

A good book, audiobook or ASMR and a scented candle in an otherwise quiet room usually does the trick.

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

Usually through words, I didn’t get that damn doctorate for nothing.

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

My work, I guess? My writing? Wait, no, I just remembered my longest work of fiction is a crackfic about mythological characters- I take that back.

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

Just having an entire day to myself, no need to do any work, no stress, no deadlines.

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?

I take care of my pets and plants, read books, write.

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

Oh man, it’s been a few years now. Uhm, my longest friend in the Foundation is Foster, we met in high school, but like I said we’ve had a bit of a falling out. Then it’s Tiff, I met them when I first joined the Ethics Committee. I met Karlos and Bright a few years later, and I’ve known Han for the least amount of time, but it’s still been years.

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

Uhm...Hm...Probably Tiff or Karlos. Han too, he’s a good listener.

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

A few. On top of the previously mentioned ones I’m also quite close to Clef, Kondraki and Light.

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

Literally, any kind of compliment either of the O5-1′s or O5-11 gave me. Do you have any god damn idea how fucking hard it is to impress the Ones? And Ten...well, he’s just really nice and I appreciate him.

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

Anyway, next question!

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

I have great fucking puns and if anybody says otherwise, they’re fucking wrong.

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?

Do you want a list?

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

Exploring, I guess it never really changed, I like spending time in nature, I just never have the time to.

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

........Probably one of my siblings.

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

A lot, but let’s not talk about that.

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?

Jesus Christ, what’s with these questions?

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

I had to look it up, and apparently, Jeremiah means “Yahweh will exalt”. I had no idea my name actually had a religious meaning. When I was born I was named after my grandma, and when I was changing my name I decided to kind of keep with the theme and named myself after my grandpa. He doesn’t know, actually, I never came out to them, but I like to think he’d be happy that I named myself after him

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

Like I said before, in a small rural town on a small farm. Not much to talk about, really, I was a typical kid that grew up on the farm. Always got in trouble and always hurt myself doing stupid shit.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

I was quite a tomboy and I loved cows, so just imagine a room with walls painted to resemble a pasture with cows on it and cow-themed furniture. Handmade too, by my grandpa and Pa, of course.

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?

I uh...I’d rather not talk about it.

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

Ma was a great woman, she always cared for me and my siblings, she treated me like her own kid straight away. Didn’t even batted an eye. Never made me feel weird or wrong for liking “boy things” like other adults outside of our family. She was quite fiercely protective of me too, quite a mama bear, I must say. A strong woman, could probably suplex a bear.

Onions: Tell about your dad.

Pa was...well, Pa was just wonderful. He didn’t even hesitate for a second to take me in when his sis and my biological mother died. He was the first person I saw when I woke up at the hospital. He always made sure I was happy and taken care of. He taught me how to hunt and fight and play soccer and football. He was always very loudly supportive of me. I cannot express enough just how much I’m grateful to him and Ma.

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

They were very kind, your traditional old couple. I loved granny, but I was always closer to my grandpa. He taught me how to fish, I could always confide in him. He’s a great guy. Granny was wonderful too, I remember I always helped her out in her garden, she’d always scare me with potato bastards- I mean potato beetles, sorry, old habit- I fucking hate these motherfuckers. I love all animals, except for these ones. Potato bastards can suck a dick.

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

[Heavy sigh] My 4th birthday, my older brothers decided it’d be a fun idea to pick every potato beetle they could find from granny’s garden and throw them at me as a “birthday present”...........You know, I think I just realised why I hate these beetles so much.

Peony: What was your first job?

My first official job was in the Foundation, they hired me right when I finished college to help contain one anomaly, then I just stuck around and worked in Human Resources. I don’t think working small chores in our neighbours’ farms for some pocket change counted as a job.

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

I met North when he started working as a junior researcher in the same Site as me. Bright, I knew for longer for uh...obvious reasons, but I first met him in person during a disciplinary meeting. I also worked as an Ethics Committee Liaison in Site-19. You can imagine our relationship wasn’t the best at first.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

Die.

Pink: Where is home?

Well, that sure is a deep fucking question. At this point...I don’t know, honestly.

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

...It’s...let’s not talk about that.

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

No way in hell I’m telling you, he could read this blog.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

Living in a cottage in the forest or mountains as a fairly famous writer, with a spouse and a few kids.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

Soulmates. Then I grew a brain.

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

...So anyways.

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

Uh, so you know how I listen to ASMR? Probably tapping.

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

Any kind of holiday with my family, we’d always get together and celebrate.

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

Let’s not talk about that!

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?

...Hm...Well, I am kind of hungry, I guess after this I should go eat something.

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

I think I’m kind of...intermediate on that scale. Generally, it’s easy for me unless it’s something very personal.

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

...yeah, another question I’m skipping.

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

Not a lot, I’m quite tired today.

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

Work, I guess? Mostly just routine.

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

Fucking stressful and exhausting, but it could be worse. That’s talking about my chairman position. But my work on Project X? I like it, one of the more pleasant jobs I had at the Foundation.

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

...Yeah, just take a guess.

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.

Cozy, dark and gold.

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

...That’s a bit personal, actually.

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

The sheer amount of these questions, Jesus fucking Christ.

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

Unfortunately, I don’t have time for books lately, I did listen to a few audiobooks though. Also, I’m planning to revisit the Warrior Cats books because nostalgia and I need to know what the fuck is happening with these cats lately.

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

Hopefully not dead.

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

Uhhh...hm...I’m petty, but you probably knew that already.

#asks #cimm.txt #ask game #ooc: ill get to the rest later this shit drained me horribly and i need a break

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penultimateapogee · 4 years

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hey dude for the music challenge u should do ALL OF EM

heh heh heh... such was my plan ALL ALONG. i will now use this ask as the place to do it (here’s the post btw)

1. A song that reminds you of your childhood: anything from Fiddler On The Roof (the original Broadway cast recording)... my dad loves Fiddler On The Roof and he used to play it all the time

2. A song to sleep to: heh, anything at 2am. but really New York And Back by Leanne & Naara

3. A song that your best friend loves: oh god, really? cmon i cant just know that...! ummmm mazie and i had a really in depth running conversation about her favorite music about two years ago but im forgetting it all. im PRETTY SURE Venus Ambassador by Bryan Scary & the Shredding Tears was the inspiration for her OC Stuart who we both love and occasionally develop

4. A song that hypes you the fuck up: HEH ANYTHING....! oh my god this is a haaaaard one because of how many options i have!!! but also: Awaken by Riot Games feat. Valerie Broussard, because WHEN THE DEVIL IS KNOCKINGGGGGGGGG... SO ALL YOU RESTLESS

5. A song you like to daydream to: i can only say “heh anything” so many times!! literally i daydream to basically every single song; its foundational to how i consume music. i’ll bring out the real heavy hitter now and say Follow You Down by Zedd feat. Bright Lights. ive got some REAL good daydreams for that one

6. A song that’s on at least 3 of your playlists: *breath in* no just kidding, i do my best to make sure my playlists arent too similar. the day you stop me from putting I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers on every character playlist is the day i die tho

7. A song that you love from a genre you don’t usually like: this should be easy; lemme just flip through my catalog of “songs i bought independent of their albums because i was building an 8tracks playlist in iTunes”... actually no, Planetary (GO!) by My Chemical Romance! i dont usually like whatever subgenre of rock MCR is all that much but this one GOES (fittingly shjfdis)

8. A song that you liked when you where 10 that still slaps: Der Kommissar by Falco. no fucking hesitation. i can thank my fluent-in-german mom for this one

9. A song that makes you want to go on an adventure: Zero by Imagine Dragons! ive daydreamed some poppin’ space adventures to that one

10. A song you’d want to dance with your partner to ( or future partner ): so, so much... NOT Jenny by Studio Killers because i just wanna make out to that one; maybe I Go Crazy by Paul Davis

11. A song to stomp around and pout to: difficult, because when i pout, i pout like grimbark jade, in that i go “actually im better than everyone and you can all smd.” then again, having made that clear, Roman Holiday by Nikki Minaj (shoutout: @floralmarsupial for killing me with that lyricstuck)

12. A song to listen to whilst you lie in a meadow: Folding Chair by Regina Spektor. TOO EASY

13. A song that reflects your views on love: uhhhhh. huh. polyam moments? no songs about polyamory moments? being polyamorous fundamentally affects my views on love in a way im not sure ive ever heard a song capture moments? Hot Air Balloon by Owl City because i’ll be out of my mind, and you’ll be out of ideas pretty soon, so let’s spend the afternoon in a cold hot air balloon

14. A song to sing to the sun: i feel like its probably not the intended spirit of this question, but Coming Over (feat. James Hersey) by Dillon Francis & Kygo. im usually more of a nighttime girl but honestly? call me xoxo

15. A song you like that sounds like its on the soundtrack to an indie coming of age film: ohhhh my gooooddddd literally any fucking Bastille song. any of them. thats like their whole angle and i LIVE for it. im picking Snakes because snakes are biting at my heels, the worries that refuse to let us go; ive been kicking them away and hoping not to let them take control

16. A song that you like that romanticises being a teenager: i would love to say Teen Idle by MARINA for the irony but i cant bring myself to. (ill still link it tho.) real answer is Centuries by Fall Out Boy, because whether or not it actually romanticises being a teen i just feel it yknow

17. A song that makes you want to grab your friends jump up and down dancing and screaming the lyrics: why did they write a question to which the only answer is Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen? i dont get it. just kidding another acceptable answer is Toxic by Britney Spears (my white is showing im sure)

18. A song that you like that the lyrics are just so beautiful they’re practically poetry: well actually i have such good taste that every song i listen to is poetry. (trying to remember the lyrics i cried to out of nowhere yesterday. oh right it was The Draw by Bastille but most of it doesnt fit the question as much) ANY Hozier song. im linking his fucking artist page because im NOT KIDDING. ANY HOZIER SONG. i toyed with picking a specific song as an “also, it’s this one haha” but no, im dead serious. i cant pick just one

19. A song that you can imagine listening to in an abandoned church ( if it isn’t hozier im judging you, but whatever ): ironic! to pick a specific Hozier song this time (because op is right, he’s the only choice), Talk

20. A song from the soundtrack of a film that you like so much after the film finished you immediately looked for it: hm, i feel like i have done this before, but i cant recall when... well i didnt go “oh fuck bop [blacks out]” but Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin. remember Thor: Ragnarok? that was a good movie

21. A song for when the sun has gone down and you are feeling absolutely buck-wild with exhilaration!: Lost In Japan (Remix) by Shawn Mendes & Zedd, because no song hits my city-hotel aesthetic quite like this one does

22. A song that makes you feel like you’re strolling through Ancient Greece living your best life: ancient Greece...! that throws a fun twist in it; Don’t Leave Me (Ne me quitte pas) by Regina Spektor

23. A song that when you listen to it you’re transported to a liminal space, time is pointless and you must sit and wallow in the void that remains: Shots (Broiler Remix) by Imagine Dragons feat. Broiler. i glanced at this question early on and have been sitting on it the whole time. just LISTEN to it

23. A song to listen to on a long drive when you have the really strong urge to keep driving until you find somewhere to start a new life (preferably a europian city whose language you don’t speak): Evelyn by Kim Tillman & Silent Films. it just called to me here

im a little sad that i couldnt put every song ive ever listened to in here so heres some more good ones that i didnt choose: Citrine by Hayley Kiyoko (this is actually a whole EP), Lone Digger by Caravan Palace, Safe And Sound by Capital Cities, Absentee by Jack Campbell, River Flows In You by Yiruma, Instant Crush by Daft Punk, Link by Jim Yosef, Poke Bowl by Radiant Children, Optimistic by cehryl, Quiet by Lights, Superposition by Young the Giant, Far Too Young To Die by Panic! at the Disco, The Good, the Bad and the Dirty also by P!atD, Whatever It Takes by Hollywood Undead, LUNARIA (instrumental) by Chouchou. i know thats easily enough to make your eyes glaze over but mutuals especially it would mean a lot to me if you listened to at least a few of the songs i linked in this post because music means a lot to me and sharing it with other people is one of my favorite things :]

#about me #music

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pipesflowforeverandever · 4 years

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If you can do a quick summary of your hymms of struggle au please? I can't read very well and is really long.

No worries!!! I try to tell people that it’s fine if they don’t read it, since it’s so long. Before I get started here, I do want to let you and some other people that might benefit from it that there’s extensions you can get for Google Chrome that’ll read highlighted text to you! As of late I’ve been using that a lot to read fanfics, since I love listening but I need constant visual engagement (video games, videos, etc). I use “Read Aloud: A Text to Speech Voice Reader” and it does a pretty good job!

I’m also starting a podfic of Hymns which you can find here. There’s only one chapter read so far, but I have friends that are recording future chapters and I’ll be working on recording too, now that my illness woes seem mostly cleared up and I can spend my weekends having fun. I got a brand new mic and I’m excited to use it!

Listening to that much in itself is still- y know- a lot, so don’t worry if none of this appeals to you.

So with that all said and done, here’s the summary you wanted. Kind of obviously, spoilers for basically everything about the story.

(This summary did not turn out quick at all so skip to the bold headers if its too much.)

Hymns of Struggle is an AU I started before chapter 4 with it being based only on the canon of chapters 1-3 of the game. It’s about a college-aged woman who falls into the depths of the studio and comes across the circumstances and characters that Henry did before her. But unlike Henry, she becomes convinced that she’s not going to leave anytime soon. So instead of using her willpower to escape- as Henry did- she uses it to survive the experience, especially in an emotional sense. She meets the monsters of the studio and discovers their humanity, and as she holds out hope for them, their bitter perspectives start to turn, and they began to see hope in her in turn.

Sammy is the first to meet her and treats her not unlike Henry; she is prepared as a sacrifice. However, as the ink demon not only ignores this request but heals her injuries (not really but she’s not dying anymore), Sammy comes to terms with this by begrudgingly taking her as his ward, as the ink demon for whatever reason wants her alive. The woman, of course, sticks with him at first only out of fear and morbid curiosity, but eventually they become friends that have genuine cares for each other. A big plot point is Sammy presenting the ink demon as a god before the woman gets any other impression, and so she’s inclined to view him similarly. The other characters- mainly Alice and the projectionist- have a similar arc with her of reluctance before they view her as empathetically as she views them.

The woman is only named in the fic once Sammy asks, which isn’t for a good 20 chapters or so.

Gingie (within the fic simply called the usual Joey Drew) is the main antagonist of the story. About half way through it’s revealed that he is still alive, and not physically changed like the rest, and that the others don’t know about it. Francine has to decide whether or not it is good for the studio to keep it this way, although Joey makes his misgivings very clear. The fic from the second half on shifts to this walking on eggshells of what it means to care about others- if it ignores other kinds of morality like lying and condescending, or if you have to be able to brave for the worst even if you could have prevented it by said lying and condescension.

This is played out in the fact that the ink demon towards the very end is revealed to be an extension of Joey’s deepest desires. Joey can’t control him- in fact often does the exact opposite of what he wants- but the demon plays entirely off of what Joey really wants. The demon makes sure Alice stays where she should. The demon made Sammy blind without his mask of faith (literally and figuratively). The demon fights the projectionist if he decides to leave his maze and find Francine when she goes missing. Joey doesn’t want anyone to be hurt. He’s afraid of what he’s made- the studio being a curse born out of a desire to see his son Henry again, that ended up swallowing everyone inside the building and trapping them for 80 some years. They’re inside his world, and he knows it’s terrifying. He stays by himself, trying to keep himself calm, to prevent something like with Henry happening again to the others and now Francine, who still has her own body, blood, and soul to keep from joining the disfiguring ink.

With Francine there, Joey’s tension builds. He’s both hopeful, as he watches her befriend the others, and he is very, very afraid. It’s not true, but Joey believes Henry is dead from that visit 30 years after he left. He’s so forlorn he can’t bring himself to find his soul in the ink. As Francine finally finds him- the demon bringing her to Joey against the studio itself (another, slightly more controlled extension of Joey’s emotion)- Joey has to decide on the spot to make up a lie that the studio stole his freedom as it stole Sammy’s memory, Alice’s identity, and Norman’s voice. But of course, he wants to know her too. Francine found lovely things in everyone, helped them remember who they were before the ink…who like Joey wouldn’t long for the same?

But as that becomes more and more true with each of her visits, her curiosity about things that don’t make sense become dangerous in his eyes. After Francine pieces together that something must have happened to Henry and Boris (who has never appeared to her), the ink demon abruptly rips her out of Sammy’s arms and at Joey’s feet, where the old man decides that in order to keep what remains of his family- to keep the studio from imploding on itself- she has to stay with him.

With her upset at this, he breaks down and the walls around his chamber fall apart and the others finally see him for the first time. Alice screams at him as he tries to call her his angel, and Sammy breaks down at proof that his god is not at all who he seemed. With everyone all at once screaming at him, Joey uses the curse to push everyone away from him. The remainder of the story is Francine and her friends Sammy and Alice defeating the ink demon, finding out the truth about Henry, and convincing Joey that he can set everyone free after all. In the resolution, everyone becomes human again, Alice/Susie and Francine have their first kiss, and they find Joey curled up and crying in his childhood home, having to come to terms with the fact that he is still alive even after all he had done.

Joey discovers Henry’s daughter, Linda, is still alive and he visits her in a nursing home. Sammy assures Francine that the eyesight he lost in taking his human form again won’t stop him from making her keep the promise she made of showing him every song he’s never listened to.

The series that takes place after is heavily focused on the studio’s survivors recovering from trauma, forgiving, and learning to enjoy themselves. Francine finds herself the caretaker of a real life Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, the young matriarch of people waiting for their surviving families to be found and reunited with them.

LONG STORY SHORT:

Sammy makes friends with a young woman he tried to sacrifice. His memories are forcefully blocked and she helps him find them again.

Alice and the young woman gradually fall in love.

Joey is the secret villain who caused the studio to be cursed and transform people into ink. He loves the studio deeply but assumes a parental role that is toxic- and is the reason Henry left long ago.

Francine gets Joey to realize what he’s doing and he sets everyone free into the modern world, where they have to learn how to live again.

OTHER DETAILS:

How the curse happened was that Joey found a spell that would- in his view- reconnect him and Henry forever. The ritual required Henry’s consent and thus failed; it needed a part of him (like hair or blood) and Joey used the first sketch of Bendy instead. This, combined with his mother’s ashes and his own blood, flooded the studio with ink, created the ink demon, and transformed both the building and the people inside it in a symbolic world of Joey’s unstable, tortured emotions.

Joey/Gingie before the studio’s downfall was very jovial and saw the *most* in everyone. He made people want to make him proud, and Joey believed of himself thanks to his mother that he was obligated to only be the best for the world and his loved ones. This results in a mentality that only perfection and ultimate happiness was good enough, which leads him to success and the beloved role of father/grandfather until Henry saw cracks in the man he laid his foundation/life upon and turned tail as soon as it felt unstable for the first time.

The ink demon is in the role of a god. The story is heavily based on Christian/abrahamic views of religion. Joey is the father, the ink demon is the son, the studio is the holy spirit. All the same, yet all different.

The themes are: the importance of names, being empathetic vs being selfishly loving, religion vs faith, and family. Francine is the color pink, Henry is the color blue, Joey/magic is yellow/gold, green represents the world outside and freedom, and black is the ink demon and the curse.

#long post #ask box #hymns of struggle #hymns summary #tak talks #come on down to recording town #batim au #batim #im doing my best to be done bc i can add more but for a summary i shouldnt afdsdsfsfd #im more than willing to answer questions and expand on stuff if you ever want btw #and if you ever want to read just a little but not a lot? any of the drabbles are fine #theyre all about joey and henry being family before shit gets messy #anonymous #Anonymous #writing musings #summary

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jjungkookiex · 4 years

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My review/thoughts on MOTS7!

This album blew me away in terms of the lyrics, sound composition, EVERYTHING in fact so I figured that I would write a little review of it! Listening to every past BTS album brings me acutely to a period of my life when it was first released so I’m curious to see what memories I’ll forever associate with MOTS7

Interlude: Shadow- From the moment the MV was dropped I was speechless by this masterpiece. It sets the tone for this album so incredibly well by setting up the parallels between fighting your shadows and being engulfed by them. This constant battle I feel is central to the album as a whole. The alternation between Yoongi’s whispered beginning of “I wanna be a rapstar” “I wanna be king” to the Agust D esque switch of flow at the end almost seems as though his shadow is talking back to him. It is as though he realises that he cannot escape it but must embrace it to emerge from it. And also his INSANE flow and fluidity of rap is just something else, this song was made for Suga.

Black Swan- This has got to be one of my favourite songs from the album, I was hooked by the dark, almost classical intrumentals paired with the urgency of the vocals and rap. I feel as though this is one of the most introspective songs the boys have ever written, with the analogy of the dancer’s first death working to illustrate how art is all consuming for the creator. The pulsing beat underneath the vocals and rap served as a reminder of how important it is for artists to have something that literally makes their heart beat. It’s rare when songs make you truly analyse not only the lyrics but your relation to them and Black Swan 100% did that for me.

Filter- This had me HOOKED from the first few strings and the smooth Latin beat made me imagine listening to this whist walking through a bustling city at sunset. Jimin’s vocal range and siren like vocals make this song alluring and addictive in a way that no other singer could have done. The lyrics are playful and confident yet simultaneously deep. Jimin realises how attractive his various sides are to millions around the world and he owns that, yet he’s also aware that what people see is mostly akin to a filter, not reality in itself.

My Time- I’m so proud of Jungkook for experimenting and creating different sounds for each of his solo tracks and My Time is no exception. His beautiful airy vocals echo and blend perfectly with the lowkey beat. The lyrics hit hard when you realise that Jungkook’ s time scale of life has been directly opposite to that of his peers. He’s grown up on airplanes while they took the subway and you get a sense of yearning from his voice, a yearning for maybe the childhood and things he missed out on. Yet there’s a sense of assertion, that he owns his time has been different and accepts his fate.

Louder than bombs- I 100% understand why Namjoon cried writing this song. It so perfectly encapsulates the sense of fear and desperation that arises from uncertainty in one’s position in life. Troye did such a great job helping the boys with this song because it sounds sonically like the pair of them together. Even though this song is one of the darker numbers on the album it is offset by the small hints of hope. Namjoon’s mantra that he’s going to “pray for better days” is so striking because often in life that’s all you can do when you’re breaking- hope that things will change and the majority of the time they do, so you need to keep that fire of hope alive in you.

ON- On is a certified bop and its so INTENSE with the drum beats in the beginning. This song is going to be amazing in concerts with its anthemic rhythm and the lyrics “bring the pain on” and “can’t hold me down cos I’m a fighter” are so empowering. I feel this song embraces the pain and hardship with the confidence of the rap and vocals coming together to say- bad things will happen but we’ll emerge stronger and surge ON.

UGH!- Even from the title I could tell that this queen was going to sit with her sisters Ddaeng and Cypher. I’m so incredibly proud of our rapline they SNAPPED, like the flow, the wordplay the artistry?? The gunshots immediately grabbed my attention and the build up the chorus which hits like a gut punch is EVERYTHING. The way they discuss anger is so pertinent, with the rise of social media people unleash their anger on whoever they choose whilst hiding behind a screen on anonymity. Anger, like they say, is necessary but only when it can be used as a motivator for justice. Petty cowardly anger, like that which is directed towards BTS, can only lead to pain and that is what our rapline so masterfully condemns.

Zero O Clock- This is my new healing song, the acoustic guitar and soothing vocals are like a warm hug. The chorus is so uplifting and assuring, just hearing the gentle refrain of “and you’re gonna be happy” is so comforting. This reminds me of curling up on a winter’s day and finding comfort in small things and happy memories regardless of the storm that rages outside. The way that BTS never tell you meaningless words like “don’t be sad”, instead they assure you that sadness will not last forever and that the metaphorical spring will brighten your life once more.

Inner Child- Tae’s solo track radiates innocence and I am so in love with it. The way that he accepts his past and the hard times he went through and instead of allowing himself to dwell on it, he looks to the future. The refrain “we gon change” is going to be so uplifting at concerts. Even though our boys bring us so much joy we have to remember they’ve been through so many trials in the past. It’s comforting to know that I’ve gone through struggles alongside him and we can both move on whilst still recognising that our scars are the reason we are here now and that they prove we are alive and capable of healing.

Friends- One of my favourites from this album hands down. This makes me so inexplicably happy. It reminds of walking home hands intertwined with your best friend after school, late night conversations and inside jokes that make you double over whilst still containing that deep and powerful love you share with your soulmate alone. And isn’t that just vmin encapsulated? I can’t wait to see they perform this live, the Stay! Hey! part makes me so nostalgic and makes me want to reassure them that they’ll always have each other and the cheers of us, their ARMY. The part where they acknowledge their relationship as soulmates made me BAWL, their bond is one of such purity and rarity and I’m honoured to even witness it.

Moon- Another one of my all time favourites from this album. This could be the soundtrack for a slice of life anime and it is so bright and cheery, like Jin himself. His sweet vocals and the beat fits the spring season so well and the lyrics made me so soft. The way he uses the metaphor of him being the moon and circling us, his precious earth made me realise even more how much his man ADORES us. How could anyone sleep on Jin?? He’s songwriting is so pure and his presence gives me such comfort and hope, you’re so much more than just a moon Jin. You’re our one and only moon.

Respect- Namgi you geniuses! The wordplay, playful banter and topic matter are so unique in this song that I knew that it could only be made for the two of them. Respect I feel at the foundation of all relationships, can you ever have a healthy and mutual relationship with anyone or thing if you don’t respect them? With their distinctive rap that blends and flows so well with each other Namgi discuss the concept of respect and what it really means in the modern world when people place a veneer over their actions and words so as to disguise whether or not they truly respect you. As artists all I feel Bangtan want is people to respect them, not idolise them, but respect their artistry and work and sadly in an world where people hold numerous prejudices this is hard. Kudos to them for exploring this topic in a way that is simultaneously light with the satori at the end but still very thought provoking.

We are Bulletproof: The Eternal- I was 100% expecting this song to be a hardcore hip hop track so imagine my surprise to find a song that made its way into my BTS songs I can’t listen to casually because they mean too much to me and will make me bawl in public tracklist. The gorgeously haunting melody, the angelic vocals and intensely emotional rap has me in tears. When they sing “We were only seven” and “But we have you all now” I lost it. The memories I have of BTS who were my second family for the majority of my youth, the times we spent together, the music that was the soundtrack to my life. The way they adore us and find comfort and hope from us... this song really made me believe that I’m going to love them forever and vice versa. It makes me less scared to go on the rollercoaster that is life knowing that I will always have Bangtan beside me.

Outro:Ego- I saw a post that said Namjoon looks up to his Persona, Yoongi’s Shadow looks down on him but Hobi is the only one who is at the same level as, and looks his Ego right in the eye. I feel this song is such a wonderful upbeat positive track that is so Hoseok?? The way that he accepts his fate and looks forward and is confident and happy in the person he is now? This is going to be amazing at all the summer concerts and it just radiates such joy and never fails to make me dance. The perfect ending to an album that chronicles the ups and downs of BTS’s relationship with their career and selves and ultimately ends on such a bright note of hope and happiness.

#MOTS7 review #bts

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unfolded73 · 4 years

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How Do We Get Back (9/16) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: In a literal alternate universe where the Roses escaped financial ruin, David and Patrick struggle with loneliness and a sense that something isn’t right. A chance meeting in New York and a terrible tragedy drive them to question whether the timeline they are on is the right one.

Rated explicit. This chapter 4k words. (ao3)

This chapter is a sad one, but hang in there... (putting everything below the cut due to spoilers in the first few lines)

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Chapter 9

The sun was shining the first morning David woke up into a world without his sister in it.

He might’ve expected it to hit him afresh as he surfaced from fitful sleep, the fact that his sister was dead. But it had suffused his sleep, invaded his dreams — there was no escaping the knowledge even in his subconscious. As he awoke, he mostly just felt numb and hungover from crying.

David had rehearsed this kind of thing in his head a hundred times. All the times that Alexis had come back from a long trip abroad with a story about fleeing the Yakuza or being held captive by a sultan, David had played out in his mind a vivid scenario in which Alexis didn’t escape and one of them got a middle-of-the-night phone call with terrible news. He told himself that these morbid fantasies were his way of preparing for the worst. That allowing himself to imagine all of it — how he would behave, what his parents would do, what kind of details would need to be arranged — was a mental insurance policy against the thing actually happening.

None of that was true. It hadn’t prepared him in the slightest.

David emerged from his bedroom and wandered downstairs, keeping his eyes averted from the family portrait in the great hall. He found his father in the kitchen, staring out the window as his assistant, Mallory, sat implacably at the kitchen island and ticked items off of a checklist. He marveled that his father’s ever-capable assistant had come prepared with a checklist of funeral preparations.

“Do you want to go with me to select the casket?” Mallory asked gently.

Johnny stirred himself, looking over at her as if he was trying to parse her question. David suspected he hadn’t slept at all. “You can pick it. It doesn’t really matter what her casket looks like.”

“Mom might care what it looks like,” David said, his voice raspy.

“Your mother isn’t in any state to go casket shopping,” Johnny said.

David threw his hands up. “What, are you just letting her overdose on sleeping pills? Are we going to have two funerals this week?”

“No, I’m not letting her…” Johnny shouted, but quickly ran out of steam. “I don’t think she’ll be ready to leave the house today, that’s all.”

“I’ll go with you to pick out the casket,” David said to Mallory before he went back upstairs to check on his mother.

He expected to find her in bed but Moira was up, sitting at her dressing table and staring at herself in the mirror. David lurked in the doorway for a moment, unsure if he should go in. She had on no makeup, and she didn’t like people to see her with no makeup, even her son. His mother looked old, David thought for the first time in his life.

“Hi, Mom.”

Moira didn’t turn. “Oh, David. John said you were here.” Her voice was low and quiet, lacking its usual expressiveness.

David walked into the room and sat down on the chest at the foot of his parents’ bed. He’d sat here so many times as a child, watching his mother modeling a new piece of couture or trying out a new wig. In a relatively lonely childhood, those were among his fondest memories.

“We’ll need to pick something to dress her in,” Moira said. “I was thinking about that Stella McCartney gown that she wore last Christmas.”

David imagined Alexis’ dead body being bent and stretched like an oversized Barbie to get it into that dress, and suddenly he tasted bile in the back of his throat.

“Sure,” he said.

“I mean, is that what Alexis would have wanted, do you think?”

“Pretty sure what Alexis would have wanted is to not be dead,” David shot back, almost with the hope that it would get a negative reaction from his mother. Tears. Screaming. Something.

Moira didn’t even blink.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Alexis loved that dress; it’s a good choice.”

“I can’t remember the last time I told her I loved her. My own daughter,” Moira said, her voice finally breaking on the last word.

“I’m sure she knew,” he said, although he was sure of nothing of the sort. “We aren’t really a family who says that to each other.”

“And we should have taken better care of her. Not let her jet off to anywhere and everywhere like we did.”

“She was a grown woman; I’m not sure what you could have done to stop her.” For that matter, before she was a grown woman, when she was twelve and ended up in Hong Kong, for example, he wasn’t sure anyone could have ever stopped Alexis from going where she wanted to go when she wanted to go there.

Maybe if she’d been raised in a warm and loving home, and not in a place where the nursery was in a separate wing of the house, maybe then she’d have stayed home more. Maybe then she’d still be alive. Then he closed the door on those thoughts. There would be time later to blame his parents for this. Right now, he needed to be supportive.

“Mallory wants someone to go with her to pick the casket. Are you all right with me doing it?” he asked his mother.

Moira nodded. “I’m sure you’ll pick something tasteful.” She picked up a bottle of foundation and shook it, then set it back down, staring into space.

“I’ll check in on you when I get back, okay?” David said. Moira didn’t respond.

David wasn’t prepared for how heavy the grief would be, how it would weigh him down like a yoke on his shoulders, how stupid and yet somehow crucial all the things about planning the funeral would feel. How he would cry so hard sometimes that he made himself throw up, and other times he’d be so numb that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel true feelings again. His parents were like strangers to him, like shells of their former selves ghosting around the house, and it made him want to smash things and scream and make them acknowledge that all of this was real. Make them take care of him, instead of the other way around.

The night before the funeral, David went to bed early, a part of him hoping he could just sleep through all of it. Sleep until the grief was a little bit lighter and easier to carry around. When his phone started to ring, it took all of his energy to pick it up and see who was calling.

Patrick.

“Hello?”

“David, it’s Patrick.” After a brief pause, he continued, “From—”

“I haven’t forgotten you,” David blurted out.

“Listen, I saw the news online. I’m so sorry about Alexis.”

Fresh tears filled David’s eyes, and he closed them. “Thanks.”

“I know I don’t have any right to… call you or whatever, but I wanted you to know that if there’s anything at all I can do…”

David wiped at one cheek. “I appreciate that. There’s nothing.”

“Is there a service? If you’d be willing, I’d like to come to the service. But only if—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Patrick was just a hookup, David told himself, there was no reason for him to offer to do something like come to his sister’s funeral.

“I know I don’t have to, but…” He sighed. “Listen, if me being there would only burden you, then I’ll stay away. But if you think it would help even the tiniest bit, then I’ll be on the next plane.”

David allowed himself to imagine it. Patrick; solid Patrick who could be relied on to make tea in a time of crisis, being here. Standing with him at the service. Holding his hand, maybe. Suddenly David wanted that fiercely.

“It would help,” he managed to choke out.

“Then I’m going to book a flight.”

“No, you must have work or something—”

“Let me worry about that. When and where is the service?” Patrick asked.

David gave him the information, and at the end of the recitation couldn’t help asking, “Are you sure?”

“I’m buying the plane ticket as we speak,” Patrick said. “I’ll basically need to leave for the airport in…” he paused, “three hours and drive through the night so that I can get the 6:30 a.m. flight out of Toronto, but I can do that.”

“Patrick… thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, David.”

~*~

The church was surrounded by paparazzi, and Patrick was late, and there was a security guard manning the door. But when Patrick gave his name to the guard, he was allowed in and told to take a seat in the back. He shook his head, thinking there was something appropriate about the fact that Alexis Rose’s funeral had an exclusive guest list. Craning his neck, he could just make out David’s black hair at the front of the church.

A priest who even Patrick could tell had never met Alexis was speaking, expressing vague platitudes that probably came out of the manual on funerals for people who die tragically before their time. After that, some women stood up and sang a song that seemed inappropriate as a memorial to a dead person. An aunt got up and told a sepia-toned story about Alexis as a little girl. Then David stood up and approached the lectern. Patrick drank in the sight of him, looking pale and exhausted, clutching a journal against his chest. He hadn’t expected David to be delivering a eulogy. Perhaps his parents didn’t have the strength to do it, and it had fallen to David as the only other close family member.

David cleared his throat and opened his journal and began to speak. “When I first started planning what I was going to say today, I thought about how I would describe Alexis. That she always knew exactly who she was. That she was fearless. That she was unfailingly optimistic about everything. That she had an unquenchable lust for life. But I don’t know if any of that is true.

“The truth is that Alexis could be shallow and self-involved. She forgot to pay attention to the feelings of the people around her. She made bad decisions. She also could be child-like, and enthusiastic, and she knew how to cut right through my bullshit. She was a complicated person who I didn’t always like very much, but who I did… who I did love.

“The truth is also that Alexis was lonely. The truth is she had to grow up way too fast. The truth is that Alexis was always jetting all over the world because she was chasing something that I don’t think she ever found in life: actual joy.

“I had a dream last night that Alexis and I were sharing a tiny little bedroom. Which is pretty funny, because Alexis and I never shared a room in our lives. We would have despised sharing a room, because she was such a slob…” He seemed to choke up at this, and paused for a few seconds to collect himself before continuing. “But the thing is, in this dream she was happy in a way I never really saw her in life. She was content. I hope that wherever my sister is, she’s found that contentment.”

David walked away from the podium and retook his seat, and Patrick could feel the stunned hush of a crowd who hadn’t expected anyone to say anything like that. Nothing that raw and honest. The priest also seemed surprised as he stood up and welcomed the next speaker, one of Alexis’ friends who seemed more interested in visibly crying in front of a crowd than in saying anything meaningful about Alexis. Patrick understood why David had said his sister was lonely if this was what her friends were like.

When the service was over, Patrick went outside to sit on a bench and wait. He wasn’t sure what to do now — he wanted to go to David and be near him to provide any support he could, but he also recognized that as a selfish impulse. David had his parents to worry about, he didn’t need the guy he’d gone to bed with two months ago hanging around. Suddenly, the fact that Patrick had shelled out hundreds of dollars for a last-minute plane ticket and a rental car struck him as insanity.

“You came.”

Patrick looked up from the paving stones he’d been staring at to see David, sunlight haloing his hair. Standing up, Patrick tried to offer a supportive smile. “I said I would.”

David shrugged. “People don’t necessarily do what they say they’ll do.”

“I do.” Patrick couldn’t take his eyes off of David. After two months, seeing him felt like seeing a mirage.

“So, I have to go to the gravesite now for the burial, which is just family,” David said, indicating a waiting limousine.

“Oh. Right, of course.”

“But people will be coming to the house afterwards. Can you come there? I think I sent you the address before.”

Patrick nodded, relieved. “I’ll be there. David, I’m so, so sorry.”

The corner of David’s mouth turned down, and he shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

Uncertain what to do, Patrick got in his rental car and drove to a nearby McDonald’s. The past twelve hours of travel had screwed up the rhythms of mealtimes, and other than a bagel at the airport and a meager bag of pretzels, he hadn’t eaten anything all day. Sitting down with his tray, he stared at his unappetizing burger and wondered why he’d ordered it. He ate a fry, eyes trained on the acrylic tabletop.

When he figured that enough time had gone by, Patrick got back in the car and drove to David’s parents’ house. The gate was imposing enough (where again he had to give his name to be admitted), but the mansion that was revealed as he drove up the long driveway was even more so. He turned his car key over to a valet, wondering what it had been like, growing up in a place like this. Another piece of the David Rose puzzle slotted into place.

The house was filled with mourners, drinks and small plates of food in hand, talking in hushed tones. Patrick stood in the middle of it and stared up at the family portrait that dominated the great hall, trying to see the man he cared about in the haughty version of David Rose in the painting.

After some wandering, Patrick finally found David in the kitchen, giving instructions to the caterers.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” David said, his eyes still flitting around the room, his focus on oversight of the food.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’m glad you’re here.”

An older woman came into the kitchen and picked up one of the trays of finger sandwiches to carry back out to the guests.

“Adelina, you don’t work here anymore; you don’t have to do that.”

“I have to do something,” she said. “And you don’t get to tell me what to do, mijo.”

David rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just don’t stay on your feet too long, please.”

Adelina muttered something in Spanish and left the room with her tray.

“She practically raised us,” David explained. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Of course,” Patrick replied, following David through a back door of the kitchen up some utility stairs to the upper floor of the house. David led them into a tastefully-decorated bedroom that was about half the size of the house Patrick had grown up in.

“Is this your childhood bedroom?” he asked.

“Yeah,” David said, sitting on the bed. “Listen, I’m sorry for the way I behaved when you left New York—”

“Please don’t worry about that now.” Patrick sat at David’s side. “I don’t want you to have to think about that now.”

“No, I was an asshole,” David said. “We hadn’t made any plans or promises, it’s not like you were—”

“Believe me, David, I wanted to stay.” Patrick laughed uncomfortably and looked down at his hands. “Two nights with you and I was…” He stopped, unable to admit the way he’d been feeling. The way he was still feeling. “I’ve thought about you a lot, the last two months.”

David cleared his throat. “I can’t help but notice you aren’t wearing your wedding ring.”

“I told Rachel everything the day I got back. We’re separated.”

“Oh. Well, that must be very hard.”

“It is, but it’s also…” Patrick clutched his hands together, worrying the webbing of skin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve also never felt more free. I came out to my parents and the world didn’t end. So even if I never saw you again, I would have been forever grateful to you for being the instrument of this change in my life. And then I saw what happened to Alexis, and I just… I had to call, even if you wanted nothing to do with me.”

David looked up at the ceiling like he was trying not to cry. “I’ve thought about you a lot these last two months, too,” he whispered, and then David was leaning in and his mouth was on Patrick’s, insistent and everything Patrick had been dreaming about.

Except David had just lost his sister, and as soon as Patrick gained some control of himself, he pulled away. “David, is now really the right—”

“I just need to… not think about being sad for a while, okay? Can I… can I just have a few minutes where I’m not thinking about what happened?”

Patrick put his hand on David’s cheek and nodded his head. “Of course. Of course you can have that.”

Their mouths met in a frantic press, teeth clacking together as they both tried to deepen the kiss. David’s hand was already unbuttoning the buttons of Patrick’s shirt, trembling, and Patrick did his best to shrug out of his suit jacket while their mouths were still fused together.

When he brought his hands up to resume caressing David’s face, Patrick’s fingers came away wet, and he broke the kiss again. “David—”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” David said, but he clearly wasn’t. His hands were shaking and the tears were starting to flow more freely now, so Patrick pulled the other man into his arms. That made the dam break, and the sound of pure grief that tore from David’s throat in that moment shattered Patrick’s heart.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Patrick murmured, holding David as he sobbed into Patrick’s shoulder.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, David’s tears soaking into Patrick’s shirt as Patrick rocked him gently and murmured quiet words into David’s hair. He wasn’t even sure what he said. Patrick supposed this was why he had come, although he couldn’t have expected David would be willing to rely on him as a shoulder to cry on. And yet somehow Patrick felt like he had known he was needed here, even as all reason and logic had said that it was a mistake to come.

When David’s tears dried up, when he finally let go of his death grip around Patrick’s torso, Patrick reached out to run his thumbs under David’s eyes. “Do you need to go back to the people downstairs?”

David shook his head. “I’m not going back out there.”

“Do you want to try to get some sleep? Or do you want me to go get you some food?”

“Sleep,” David said. “If you’ll… stay?”

“Of course I will.”

~*~

Patrick woke up to the sound of water running in the bathroom, and then David emerged, walking over and getting back into bed.

“What time is it?” Patrick asked.

“1:15.”

Patrick rubbed his face, trying to orient himself in space and time. Between his complete lack of sleep the night before and falling asleep in the early evening with David, he felt hazy and disoriented. “Are you okay?” Patrick asked.

“Just a nightmare about Alexis. I’m getting used to them.”

Patrick reached out and touched David’s back, feeling the way sweat had soaked through his t-shirt. “It might feel better to change your shirt.”

He could just make out David nodding in the dim light before he got up and went over to a large armoire, pulling off his shirt. Patrick watched as David took everything off and put on a fresh shirt and underwear before coming back to bed.

“I keep seeing her drowning in my dreams,” David sighed, getting back under the covers. Patrick put an arm around him and David put his head down on Patrick’s chest, his arm draped across Patrick’s midsection and their legs tangling together. It was nice. It was scary, how nice it was. How well they seemed to fit together, like they’d been sharing a bed for ages.

“And I don’t know what to do now that the funeral is over,” David continued. “It was easier when I had a list of things to take care of. Now it just seems like an endless amount of time stretching out in front of me with nothing in it but grief.”

“Maybe focusing on your gallery will help?”

David shook his head, his hair brushing against Patrick’s nose. “I’m going to close the gallery.”

“Why?”

“Because according to my father’s business manager it’s hemorrhaging money, and the family can’t really afford to keep it open any more.”

“David, I’m sorry.” He tightened his grip on David’s shoulder. “Maybe I can help? I can look at the books?”

“That’s a very kind offer, but even I can understand that if I don’t sell any art, it doesn’t make financial sense to keep the gallery.”

“You don’t sell any art?”

“Not lately. And to be honest, since Alexis died I don’t know if I even care anymore. For that matter, I don’t care if I even stay in New York. Maybe I’ll sell the apartment too and make a fresh start somewhere else.”

Patrick pressed a kiss against the top of David’s head. “Okay, David, I don’t want to second guess you here, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea to make these kinds of huge decisions when you’re grieving the loss of someone close to you.”

David’s breath hitched, and Patrick feared he might have triggered another crying jag, but when David spoke, his voice was even. “Okay, maybe I’ll hold off on selling the apartment. But… I need a change of scenery. I need to get away from everything that brings back memories of my sister, at least for a little while.”

“Come home with me,” Patrick said, and then his mouth dropped open with shock that those words had come out of his mouth.

David raised his head from Patrick’s shoulder and looked at him. “Come home with you?”

“No, I mean… if you’re looking for a change of scenery you could… I just got a new apartment and you’re welcome to stay with me for a few days if you need to.” He chuckled nervously, wishing David’s leg wasn’t pinning him down because he felt a sudden need to put some space between them. “There’s nowhere less like New York than my hometown.”

David moved his head around for a second before saying, “Okay.”

“You actually want to come stay at my place? Because I should probably warn you, the restaurants where I live leave a lot to be desired.”

Meeting his eyes, David said, “I wouldn’t be going with you for the night life.”

Patrick kissed him then, just a gentle peck on the lips, but it felt significant. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Chapter 10

#schitt's creek #schitt's creek ff #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #david x patrick fic #hdwgb fic #my fic

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years

Text

When a God Finds a Girl (part 4)

When you rejoin the others, Thor is bolder, pulling you into a familiar side hug the way Sam often did, “Y/N!” he exclaimed, “I thought you left!” You blush, and Natasha snorts, “I literally told you she didn’t.” The Asgardian boomed a laugh, and you wince when his shoulder brushes the sore side of your face. The Asgardian stopped, gently cradling your face to inspect the bruises. He touches his thumb over your cheekbone gently, and the warmth makes you close your eyes, “I’m sorry, My Lady,” he murmured, “In my inebriated state I forgot your injuries this morning.” You blush and resist the urge to kiss the hand cradling your face. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you while looking at you with that kind of heat, but you weren’t drunk enough to forget yourself.

You pull away slowly, “It’s okay, Thor,” you say, “I forgot about it too until just a second ago.” You desperately want him to keep touching you, but you can literally feel the stares of everyone else boring into your skin. You feel too exposed, and you’re thankful that Thor’s large frame hides most of you. “I- I should be going anyway, “ you say. “Bontraeger is probably going to be irritated at me if I don’t take him out soon. He’s already going to be mad that we’re leaving for camping early tomorrow.” Sam gasps, “Aww, I miss Traeger! Chaotic good boy,” You laugh, “Well I mean it’s just going to be Traeger and me out at the Cabin if anyone else wants to come. We have room.” You adjust your cardigan nervously, and Thor laughs, “Yes! Camping. Excellent! I would enjoy that.” You smile at him a little and miss the look that passes between Sam, Steve, and Bucky. “I’m down,” Nat says stretching, and the Other three soldiers sigh, “Us too,” Sam says. He can tell without seeing your face. “We’ll bring the food since we’re staying at the Cabin,” Sam said, “Or at least We’ll pitch in and buy food from the Store.” You nod, “Well, Traeger is waiting. I better be off,” you hug Sam goodbye and give the others a shy wave as you leave, trying not to look too flirty when you catch Thor’s eye on your way out the door.

You can’t help but remember the feel of his warm, calloused hand on your face. You wouldn’t think his hands would be able to that gentle, but Jesus, his hands were tender. Treager took his potty break with you, unhappy at your distraction. The German Shepherd liked to act like the world revolved around him, and you smiled at him, “Don’t worry, sweet boy,” you hear yourself say, “You’re still my best guy.” You check your bags and make sure everything is set for you to spend the week out of the City, thankful that Clay had made the decision to keep the Lakehouse all those years ago, deciding that the Lakehouse was more your childhood home than the house in the suburbs. You try to keep your mind off of Thor, not sure how you feel about him but… you’ve decided that for now you’ll try and keep a distance but. Sam’s friends are your friends. Even when it hurts you to be near him. He knew Clay. He knew your mom. The two of you for better or worse had a shared past and a shared pain. You go to bed and fall into a fitful sleep, still feeling the way Thor seemed to see you. Really recognize you as he looked into your face. Bontreager lays his head on your back and tried to offer you comfort.

In the morning, things look brighter. The thought of a road trip, the cabin, and just being at rest for a while make you feel warm all over. When The Avengers who are accompanying you roll up on the curb and honk for you to come down, you just let Treager go, letting him run to Sam for his pets, knowing that he’ll go straight there. “Traeger!” he shouted, kneeling to accept kisses and headbutts, “How are you, buddy? Ready for a road trip?” You smile, as you throw your bags into the back of your Jeep, “Hey all,” you say waving slightly, “I got the room with me if you need to redistribute people or bags.” Nat smiles and gives you a hello hug, “Thanks for letting us tag along.” You smile, “The more, the merrier. It’s what Clay kept the Lakehouse for.” Thor was shy that morning, a little embarrassed about the night before. Steve nudged Natasha and mischief sparkled in his eyes, “Hey, Thor. Why don’t you ride with Y/N?” he suggested, “You’ll have more leg room.”

Thor smiled, he couldn’t help it. Time with you. Alone. Time to get to know you. It made him happy. You nod, “Traeger doesn’t have to ride shotgun. He can drool down the side of the car, no matter what window he gets.” Thor laughs, “Well, that’s settled then, I will ride with Lady Y/N.” Thors things are transferred to your jeep and as you pull onto the road, a small convoy following you, you pull down your sunglasses and roll down the back windows for Traeger. It’s a relatively easy drive, and Thor is a good co-pilot. He switches songs for you, he hands you snacks. He doesn’t even mind Traeger sticking his head up front and drooling down his shoulder. Thor watches you often as you sing along to the music you play and make kissy faces at your dog. He’s never seen you so awake and relaxed. It makes him happy. He wants to hold your hand. He wants to ask you questions about your life. But he doesn’t do either of those things. He lets you be. Just Be. In this moment. And he admires you falling more and more in love with every song you sing and every smile his direction. When Traeger lays his head on your shoulder, and you kiss his nose, Thor swears he has never in his life wanted to be a dog as much as he wanted to at that moment.

When you pull up at the cabin, you pause at the top of the drive. The sun is high, and the sun is shining on the water. Trees lined the Drive, and a tire swing hung out front. It was a beautiful cabin, wood, and stone; unassuming on the outside but beautiful in its own way. You smile to yourself. You can almost see Clay on the tire swing and your mom calling you in off the water for lunch. Thor watches the mix of emotions on your face, and he does take your hand then, kissing it softly, “I’ve not seen a more beautiful place in all of Midgard.” You smile at him, warmth and a quiet pride glowing in your eyes, “Thank you,” you say, staring down the drive. Traeger, the furry missile was out the window and running towards the lake before you could even park the car. You laugh at Thor’s noise of alarm, and Your laugh makes him laugh, a hearty belly laugh that makes your heart stutter. The god is beautiful when he smiles, and you almost forget to keep your feelings hidden as you move to kiss the hand still holding yours, but the Sound of car doors and appreciative gasps remind you to pull away.

You get out of the car and Traeger made a beeline for you, shaking water all over you. “Goddamnit Bontraeger,” You say throwing your hands up but giggling. “I think the dog has the right idea,” Sam said punching Bucky on the arm and stripping off his shoes and his shirt to swing off the rope into the lake, Steve and Bucky the following suit all of them laughing and yelling as they hit the water. Thor stays near you. The water looks inviting but so does the curve of your lips and the swish of your hips as you walk. He decides to help you and Nat unload and get everything situated in the house, figuring out who’s going to sleep where. You get it all arranged efficiently, used to situating a houseful of Clay’s army buddies. “Nat and I will room together, and you boys can each take a room or a couch,” you say finally. The spy had been watching you like she might want to be friends and sleepovers were a universal way to do that. Nat smiled, “Thank god. I really don’t want to listen to all of them, snore.” You laugh, and Thor bites his lip. Part of him wants to joke about rooming with you but seeing how comfortable you are in this place makes him hesitate. He doesn’t want to mar this place for you. So he wanders into the kitchen, starting to put food away.

When he turns to look back at you, he notices marks on the door frame… A growth chart. One for you and one for Clay. He runs his fingers over the scores and smiles tenderly. He could almost see little you running through the house, wet from the lake skin warmed from the sun. Happy. No cares. And he realizes what this place is to you. It’s safety. A solid foundation to grow from. He can hear you and Natasha talking, and he half listens. It’s small talk. Noting too important. Until the Spy catches his eye and looks towards the door, telling him to go, a hint of a smile on her lips. Thor sips out and Joins the other men at the lake, “How was the trip?” Bucky asked, laughing. Thor mock staggered against a tree, hand over his heart, “I have never been as jealous of a dog as I was when I saw the way she lavished attention on him.” he said, fondly patting the wet dog as he trotted past. “Y/N is a lady of exquisite loveliness, indomitable spirit, and incredible generosity,” Thor said seriously. “If I didn’t have feelings for her before I would now.” Bucky and Steve both made a noise suggestive of gagging, teasing him. Sam smiled a little, taking a stance, arms folded across his chest. “You’re going to pursue her then?” he asked. Thore took in his attitude and tried to keep his own relaxed. “At her pace,” Thor said nodding, “The moment she tells me she’s disinterested or wants no more from me, I’ll stop.” Sam nodded, “If you hurt her, I’ll break you.” the soldier said levelly. Thor only nodded, smiling, “If I hurt her, I would let you.”

Natasha helps you finish putting things away and you both head out to the porch with a beer, slouched comfortably in the wooden chairs. “This is a beautiful house,” Natasha said, sipping her drink, “Thank you for letting us all invade it.” You smile, “Friends of Sam’s are friends of mine,” you say modestly, “That’s what the lakehouse has always been for.” Natasha smiled but said nothing, her estimation of you going up a few points. Traeger plods up the steps for pets, and you rub his ears, “Silly boy, nice swim? Hm?” he licks your nose and nudges your bottle with a whine. You laugh and pour a little into his waiting doggy dish, and he laps it up happily. “Lush,” you admonish him without any real heat. “Why, Bontraeger?” Natasha asked. You laugh, “My ex was super into motorcycles and said it was the coolest name for a dog.” You take a drink and relax back in your chair, “We just got the thing, and I came home from the last day of my postdoc and all my stuff, and the dog was outside, and the locks were changed.” Nat winced, and you shrug. “So I freaked out and called Sam because I didn’t really have anyone else to call. Sam was like, “Well, I go a couch.” so I loaded up my shit in the car and drove from Seattle to New York.”

The two of you were quiet after that, listening to the boys play in the water. “I should start dinner. Get the fire going so we can roast some hotdogs and such.” You stand and set about getting things around for dinner and Nat laughs, “Oh no. We have four strapping men down at the lake. They can start a fire.” She hands you another beer, “You’re supplying a house and making sure we’re all comfortable. You don’t need to cook too.” She walks down the hill to the lake and stops, hand on her hip, “Boys if you wanna eat tonight, you better get cracking on getting a fire started.” Thor snapped to and was getting up and out of the water in moments, Sam, Steve, and Bucky all mock groaned as they trudged up the hill to get to work. The boys put things together in short order and you give Natasha a grateful smile. You’re sore after yesterday and trudging around with coolers would not be helpful. The second day sore is always the worst sore and when your knee buckles, pitching you forward you brace to hit the ground. At least until strong arms lock around you and hold you steady, “Are you alright, my lady?” You swallow hard, “Yeah, Thanks, Thor. It’s just that second day sore from yesterday.” Thor tries not to enjoy holding you too much but you smell like sandalwood and sage and your skin is warm from the sun. He wants to let you go. He wants to give you distance and be patient. But his need to hold you wins out and he swings you up off your feet, “You should have that leg propped up,” he said sternly, preening internally at your soft gasp when he scooped you up.

He settles you into your chair and moves a small cooler to be under your ankle before handing you your drink. “Thank you,” you say a little breathlessly, thankful that it was dark enough to hide your blush. “At your service, my lady,” he said bowing and kissing your hand. Thor feels his own cheeks heat. He wants so badly to call you “love” and put you on his lap to hold you. You nestled into his arms so softly, your breath against his neck and your hand on his shoulder. You were a cuddler, he understood. You needed tenderness to balance out the sharp edges of your day today. Thor nodded to himself and filed that away for later.

@fatheadtheroger

#thor x reader #thor x you #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #steve rogers #slow burn #fluff #i just really love him #thor is supportive #fight me

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taylorswiftreadmydiary13 · 5 years

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I’ve completely gotten lost. Aimlessly sidetracked.

This is my lover

This is my person. The love of my life. The place where my heart lives.

The one I would marry with paper rings, every single time. The one I let get away once, but know that in the end it’s a fight we are gunna win.

I’d move mountains, spin the world the other way, cross oceans for this man. I’ve loved him for half my life. From the very first time our eyes locked. This love came back to me.

August 25, 2020 update Illicit affairs

part one: Mike

Do you ever stop to think about how your choices and decisions ricochet and impact others unsuspectingly? For me... I had a love. I had two children with this man of mine. We rarely fought, but when we did... it was always because exes of his with other motives wanted to “catch up,” for me, that was a hard line that no one should cross. I had been cheated on too many time to want to deal with those people, or be that person. Especially now that I had children, those were games that younger people should be playing if played at all.

I remember one day you came home and wanted to tell me that you had just apparently realized that you were a smart ass, because Jen said so. This is something that was not new news to literally ANYONE who knows you. So you proceeded to tell me the story about how rude you were to another apprentice at work. & you were texting Jen about it. I asked why you even had her number? Because you were working together and you needed to call or text to tell others when or when not to stop. She was “one of the guys,” none of the men at work looked at her that way, you said. Plus, you added “she was trailer trash & I had nothing to worry about.” I voiced my opinion and said that she had no business texting you when you were not at work.

I remember you graduation, and her barging her way between us all, while your entire family, the kids and I were standing in line. more specifically, she walked right between you and I... and your head turned to watch her walk away. The look on your face infuriated me. I almost slapped you. I almost made us all leave- fuck your graduation. You wouldn’t have done ANY OF THAT with out me... not with a child. Our house was ALWAYS clean, dinner was ALWAYS made, your laundry always done & folded away. One girl, one boy. It’s haunting to me how songs I heard as a 3rd grader that stuck with me like Dixie chics “He’s 2 and she’s 4, and you know they adore you... so how can I tell them that you’ve changed your mind?” haunted me for generations. Trains “one that’s 5 and one that’s 3, been 2 years since he left me.” whyyyy did those lyrics echo in my mind years and years before, foreshadowing exactly what was to come?

Christmas work party, same thing.. I saw you two talking across the room. You “just happened to bump into each other.” she’s a chain smoker, something you detest. You tell me stories about how one of the other guys at works gets blow jobs from her in the parking lot on lunch break, were you really telling me about what you two were doing, or were you just taking sloppy seconds?

Look at this God forsaken mess that you made me!

the night before our son turned one, his first birthday party you were “at the gym” passed out in the parking lot. You were lying. you were cheating on me for over a year. After my father passed away. Finally telling me that my weight gain was a problem for you. But I didn’t see you helping me at all, you never took the kids for a few hours so I could go on a run, what did you do for me?

That’s the thing about illicit affairs... stolen stares, they show their truth ONE single times. & they lie and they lie and they lie a million little times. Your new relationship is built upon a million little lies. If she cheats with you, she will cheat on you. And just so you know, as fast as he left me & his children he will leave you EVEN faster for the next skinny girl that comes along. If you haven’t noticed, it’s great and freeing to not have any “baggage’ holding you down. She fights you whenever the kids take time away from you. She fights you about me... still. To this day. foundation built on a million little lies.

part 2: Adam

You know me. You’ve know me for years. We dated... we lost touch. We got back in touch, we kept in contact. Wished each other well when our lives took off with others. When our children were born. Nothing but love for each other, always. You found this video of this woman who was an artist... years before she had left the love of her life somewhere. She’s meeting with people and staring into their eyes for a minute. A million strangers, one minute at a time. Then she locks eyes with the lover that she lost all those years ago... and they lock eyes again- it was the most powerful and magical video and feeling that I have ever witnessed in my entire life. It’s the way we would lock eyes with each other oh so many years ago. You said you hoped that it would be our story.

https://youtu.be/mEcqoqvlxPY

One night I received a call from you, after 5 plus years of not hearing from you. I thought someone must have died because you called repeatedly until I answered. At the time I was pregnant with my first child. It was actually the only night Mike and I had ever spent apart our entire relationship. timing... was it fate? You told me that you were sorry for how we ended. How you would tell your grandkids one day that the love of your life was me. A Californian girl that you were too stupid to not fight for. You told me that every night when you see the moon and the stars you think of me, and you wish and hope that I know and feel that you still love me, and pray that I think of you when I see the moon and stars, too. It was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to me. I remember wishing that every single girl in their life gets a phone call like that. You said “Bella, when you see the moon and stars, I want you to know that I’m looking at it too and thinking of you, and that no matter where you are in the world... know that I LOVE YOU with all my heart, and I will until my last breath.”

You were my best friend 3 states away; you were there for me when I was breaking up with Mike. You came to California to see me. You told me I was the love of your life; that you were already in contact with a lawyer to divorce Volde (short for Vodlemort) you told me all about how awful she was, not supportive. I tried to be the voice of reason. to coach you through different ways of communicating with her, to save your marriage. You said you did therapy and nothing changed. I told you that if I could go back in time, I wish that mike would have just been honest with me. If you’re not happy- say something. Before it’s too late. Before you cheat and take everything to the next level. You told me that you moved to the first floor- I saw your room. I saw the boxes,.. the text messages. We FaceTimed enough to me to feel like you weren’t lying to me about any of it. but 3 states away and both of us with kids- we were best friends and nothing more. what more could we be?

You were the one who said that you wanted two years. Two years and you would be divorced and move out to California to be with me. My childhood best friend happened to move to the town next to yours... and she paid for me to come visit. I had no intentions of seeing you, of meeting up. But YOU made a point of ensuring that it would happen. I said lets meet for coffee. You asked me to meet you at a local soccer field, you wanted me to see where you grew up playing and where you would go when you missed me most. I agreed, but that we would go straight for coffee then lunch. You had nothing else to do for the day and asked if you could invite yourself over for BBQ and such. I didn’t think it would be a good idea, drinks and time alone with you would leave me too vulnerable.

we get to the soccer field and we hugged for 17 minutes! and then you kissed me and told me how much you missed me. I asked what was the deal with you and volde, you said you got your own apartment with your brother since he divorced his wife. So I let that kiss lead to more. I let you in.. too easily.. I had no regrets and felt like everything that had led me to that point in time was an invisible string leading me back to you! 9/1/18, we saw each other for the next 3 consecutive days until I flew back home. I came to visit again not long after that. we were constantly on the phone, FaceTime, and texting. we spent hours just loving each other from near and far... Hours together just tied up under the sheets, hours on end with out going out to eat. hours just basking under the sun picnicking and cuddling near the river.

I was in a full fledged long distance relationship, waiting for this man to tie up “his loose ends” until he would move here to be with me. We talked about everything, we talked ALL the time. So how I missed any warning signs is beyond me, and how you fooled me into be the OTHER woman is beyond me. Because you weren’t separated, you weren’t living in an apartment with your brother. That first day we reconnected, was your wedding anniversary! Who does that. I hated myself... for allowing anyone to ever make me that person that I have hated more than anything in the world. I would never ruin a family. I would never cheat with anyone.

I never felt like I was stealing stares, or clandestine meetings.

Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby. Look at this God forsaken mess that made me. You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. you taught me a secret language I can’t speak with ANYONE ELSE. And you know damn well, that I would ruin myself a million little times.

I would’ve lied for you. I would’ve protected you had you just be honest with me. But you made me out to be the bad person, you did that to not only me, but to your wife and your kids and for that... I will never forgive you.

#lover tour #i love tswift #taylor swift #taylorlurking #taylornation #taylornoticeme #taylornow #taylorstans #taytay #ts7 era #lover #illicit affairs

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ofcadellas · 5 years

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✧ · ˚ . cierra ramirez? nah, that’s just adella miera. you know, they’re the twenty two year old model/philanthropist from key biscayne, florida … still doesn’t ring a bell ? come on, dude ! they’re all over ME.MIAMI’S homepage. it’s impossible for them to stay off of it because of the fact that they’re impulsive & overly trusting they’re not all bad though, ‘cause they can be compassionate & gentle too ! you can totally tell they’re a pisces… it’s almost scary. look, if you want to remember them, just think of a box of puppies, stuffed animals, and gold studs and you’ll be golden. (her/she, cisfemale)

tw: death, and divorce mentions

soft girl overload get ready bitches she’s a BRAND new muse so we’re gonna go thru that new muse awkward phase together so bare with me skjfa but i love her so we should be fine. this bio is all over the place word vomit but i did my best to mildly organize.

ᴛʟ;ᴅʀ ʙᴀꜱɪᴄꜱ:

full name: adella maybelle miera

inspired by: mabel (gravity falls), matthew (my old muse), phoebe (friends), frenchie (grease)

songs that remind me of her: crybaby by lizzo, dog days are over by florence + the machines, coconut oil by lizzo,crush by yuna, sweetener by ariana grande

colors: baby blue and soft yellows

likes: big parties (basically anything social), traveling, animals, tomato soup, ladybugs, sewing, hugs (ugh shes so soft), dancing, disney movies/animated “kids” movies, reeally happy pop music

dislikes: when people dislike her lmao, being alone, ketchup (lmao), long car rides, scary movies, sad songs.

daughter of a victoria and david beckham sorta situation. basically, she’s a kind hearted sweet person who (surprisingly) hasn’t been hardened by the tragedy in her life. she is naive, but not a total push-over. her biggest flaws is her impulsivity and constant thrill seeking. she changing her mind about people and what she wants in life every other day. thus, flirting with 392 people but never settling on anyone, abrupt breakups because “this doesn’t feel right anymore” annnd drastic changes in her friend groups frequently. and, oh my god... she’s so sensitive.

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ɪɴꜰᴏ:

adella maybelle miera was born in key biscayne, florida on february 21st, 1997. her mother is a famous retired runway model while her dad is a retired soccer player. so yes david and victoria beckham vibes?? when adella was 4, her father passed away pretty suddenly after a tragic plane accident. so she was really young and hardly remembers him. the memories she does have a fleeting/vague.

her mother remarried two years later to jynx’s father.

and honestly, adella had a very good happy childhood. her stepfather took on the role as a real father figure in her life. she idolizes the man. like, a total daddy’s girl. (i.. don’t like that phrase but anyway.) she’s just as close to her mom as well.

earlier in their childhood, adella and jynx were very close but as time progressed they’ve grown apart and adella doesn’t know why so it makes her sad

against her parents wishes, she got married as soon as she turned 18 (literally the very next day skajdsa) cause she was heart eyes for someone and just? did it one day because they were bored and had nothing better to do. listen, they divorced about a month later because adella “didn’t feel right about it anymore” she cried and cried bc obviously she felt horrible. wanted connection baybee

and that’s been a pattern in alot of her relationships since. she just fears?? making a bad choice and not being the right person for them and them not being the right person for her somewhere down the line

anyways one thing she is consistent with is her love to do good for the world! she’s been modeling since she was a little girl but recently has started to use the money she makes to create her own foundation for child hunger and she funds a shelter for endangered animals.

this is short but.. basically??? a soft girl 3000 honestly, all the blush and fuzzy feelings

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ/ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀꜱ

the ex-spouse

a best friend/roommate (or a group of besties that are roommates) sis can’t live alone she’ll get sad

first love

general friends

partyyyy friends (sis parties HARD)

cousins

confidant

current crush(s) cause she falls in love.. every 3 seconds.

unrequited crushes

protective friend/sibling like

anything and all things

#ritzyintros

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rivetgoth · 5 years

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Hmm... this may sound pretentious but I’m not trying to say this with any kind of superiority or judgement or whatever but I really don’t even consider industrial music like .. a “fandom” ... because it just seems like so much more than that ... both personally and in general/at large .. What I mean is on a personal level being a fan of industrial music goes so beyond being a fan of a series or movie or book or fictional character or something it has very much shaped basically my entire life, it taught me that music could not only be good but genuinely meaningful when I had grown up with nothing but horrid Christian rock my whole childhood and I thought music “just wasn’t my thing,” it gave me something to relate to and find solace in and it’s given me something to process my struggles and trauma through in a healthy way where I feel like I’m not alone; as a ftm man it gave me male role models and father figures and men who I could look up to and identify with and understand my place in the world as a man, and the fact that it was founded by a trans person made me feel like i actually had a place in the world and in the industrial scene as a trans person. it gave me so much inspiration for my own art and makes me feel capable as a creator and like I actually am apart of something and belong to something bigger than myself, it has introduced me to almost all of my closest most important friends in the whole world, it’s challenged me and forced me to think and reevaluate things I thought I knew and opened my eyes to new ideas and new meanings in everyday life and given me a solid foundation of identity in something that I truly believe in. I believe in the music and I believe in the people behind the music and I believe in the spirit that flows through the music. I believe in the community and I view the community as a very tangible and real thing. I feel like fandom sometimes is very vague and there isn’t really anything vague about industrial music as a subculture. I’ve been to Cold Waves and I’ve seen and been apart of firsthand what the community truly looks like when congregated together for a cause bigger than any one individual and yet botn from the loving memory of an individual who touched peoples’ lives... I saw everyone in the fucking audience lose their minds as Lead Into Gold played “Faster Than Light” like it was the moment we’d all been waiting for our entire lives and I still cry when I hear that song. People I’d never met before, older guys in the scene usually who had been here for so much longer and had so many stories to tell would talk to me like an old friend and share all their epic histories with the bands and their cool collected merch and just so clearly saw me as someone who truly belonged there as a new generation of fan that’s keeping alive passion that they all have had for longer than I’ve even been alive ... Ogre remembered me and hugged me and told me that he could tell I was growing and improving as an artist and encouraged me to keep making art. I went to the Wax Trax! documentary screening and Ministry show and I felt like I was involved in something so much bigger than myself. I knew so many people there and so many people knew me; people I’d never met in person hugged me and knew me by name and I knew them. Musicians of bands I’ve looked up to that have shaped so much of who I am knew me by name and gave me huge hugs and called me their friend. When I came out as trans “officially” on Facebook musicians who had made music that literally saved my life messaged me to congratulate me and offer their support. I’ve had my heroes invite me to their birthday parties. So many people I love and admire and who’ve created art that’s shaped my soul follow me on Instagram or Facebook and I don’t say it to brag I just say it to point out the level of intimacy and connection that happens in this community and how apart of it one is beyond simply being a fan from a distance if they allow themselves to become wrapped up within it. There are of course issues with the scene, and it’s not like the scene is my entire identity — I have other outside passions and in general being an industrial fan is just a subset of my being goth and a music fan and I love plenty of other music and other things too ... But the industrial music scene has been so important to me and always will be. It’s saved my life and made me feel like I have a future and a place where I will always belong and I want nothing more than to give back in any way I can too, be it giving artists monetary support, creating my own art, or just learning and growing from the many wonderful people who’ve come before me and developing into a better person who is more thoughtful and patient and understanding and brings even a fraction of light into the world in comparison to the burning brightness of people like Nivek Ogre... ;D 🖤

#soft hooting

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tendomayas · 5 years

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The Revue of Solitude & Re: Create, An In-Depth Analysis

Endlessly listening to Re: Create made me revisit the Revue of Solitude yet again. I picked up on a lot of details about the song itself, and how it interacts with the visuals we’re seeing in the anime. In this essay, I will be discussing themes regarding childhood, the use of fire & water in the sequence, symbolic motifs that are present, etc.

I'll have timestamps linked and screenshots attached to specific moments in the Revue. I even found a video that isolates Re: Create, so we can solely focus on the song & visuals (Credits to youtube user mint pepper!). I will be talking about the lyrics at times too, but I used @angelXind’s translations found on the /r/RevueStarlight page (credits to her too!). The video has Eng translations too, and I know both translator’s translations don’t exactly match word for word, but they’re close enough to get the same ideas across. And I know translating things to English can only go so far in really portraying the exact sentence’s meaning in its original language. We’ll just use what we have.

Let’s watch and listen closely to the whole revue, shall we? This analysis is very long (it’s almost 3k words don’t say I warned you...), but there is so much to unpack, guys. I hope you enjoy my reading of it!

Right off the bat, there are two sounds I want to focus on: the violins and the piano(and/or xylophone?) keys.

(0:06) The Piano/Xylophone Keys as Lullaby Music They remind me of lullaby music because of the high pitch. The sound is reminiscent of times when everything was still pure and innocent, and not tainted by how harsh reality is. This sound comes and goes a couple of times, and is mostly in the background, being overpowered by the other instruments.

(I’d like to point out that I’m 100% sure the lullaby sounds are not just only piano keys. They might be xylophones at times or even chimes... or a triangle? Whatever they are—I’m calling them lullaby music.)

The lullaby music being in the background is representative of how Hikari is still warming up to the idea that she and Karen can be on the same stage together. These sounds are only completely audible when Hikari fully reflects about their promise, and begins believing in it. I’ll talk more about this later on.

(0:07) The Violin(s) as Fairytales This initial violin sound reminds me of fairytale music—yet another theme in relation to childhood. The violin(s) sound very “flowy”—as if you’re being surrounded by their magic.

We are all captivated with stories as kids, and for Hikari, that story was Starlight. She loved it so much that she showed it to Karen. And Karen loved it so much that she saw herself and Hikari in it; believing that they could perform the play. Kids love roleplaying characters from stories, and they took that seriously that Starlight inspired them to pursue theater.

Fairytale settings are also known for having an ideal world where anything is possible. And of course, as children, you believe that two people can indeed stand on the same stage. Until you grow up and realize that’s not how the system works after all.

(0:30) The synth(?) reminds me of an igniting fire—a huge symbol we’ll see later on.

(0:43)

This is for the promise we made

Hikari’s lines in the entire song are dedicated to Karen. Let that thought sit throughout this whole analysis.

(1:48) The synth sounds come back in full-force, as the stage is filled with fire.

(1:57) Remember how I talked about that the lullaby sounds are just waiting to be heard, despite being in the background? This is one instance of it. In this part specifically, it sounds like it’s knocking on something. I would even say that’s indicative of how much the full memory between Hikari and Karen is just waiting to be explored.

(2:14) The lullaby-like keys are back, but they are in a more melancholic tone. They sound like they’re being defeated, and that is because Hikari’s stage is now filled with flames.

Fire as Passion, & Nana Nana wants to keep the flame of the Seisho’s 99th class’ Starlight play alive with her reenactments.

Fire as Rage, & Nana It is also a symbol of her rage towards Hikari, as her arrival broke the time loop. Hikari joining the auditions threw off Nana’s comfort zone. (Up until now, Nana thinks Hikari is the reason why things are changing—and not Karen—like we see her realize later on in EP9) And Nana has been trying so hard, in every iteration, to protect all their memories together. And with Hikari’s arrival, she has to deal with the possibility of leaving it all behind.

Fire as Destruction, & Nana Aside from Hikari disrupting Nana’s loops, the fire shows how destructive her own wish is to herself. She tells the giraffe that her ideal stage has become too radiant for her to reach, but is still convinced she’ll get it someday. And that thought has trapped her in an endless spiral for who knows how long—preventing her to move on and progress further.

Fire as Destruction, & Hikari Yes—fire is also a symbol of destruction for Hikari! It literally destroyed her stage!

The Fire and Grabbing Hand as the Top Star System First of all, let’s make it clear that Hikari’s stage represents her time London.

And more specifically, it’s the recital stage she performed on while she was at the Royal Academy for Theatrical Art.

The very beginning of the Revue looked like this:

Hikari is standing on top of some steps, ready to challenge Nana. Her being on the higher plane indicates dominance and power, and she had that while she was still in London. She was so good that she got to perform in their auditions—until she lost. But before leaving, she was told, in the exact same setup during that recital, that “Someday, [she] will have to fight that thing”.

Which brings us back to where we are now:

That “thing” could mean a lot of things, but one of my readings is that she has to face the reality of the Top Star system, and how destructive it is.

That system already destroyed her in London because she kept fighting in the auditions until she was just a pawn in their game. And when she was defeated, she lost all her motivation to become a stage girl. She realized how it feels like when the system makes a puppet out of you, and what happens if your brilliance as a star gets taken away. And that is all being mirrored by how wrecked her stage is right now.

The huge grabbing hand, along with the fire, emphasizes how powerful and controlling that system can be. We even get a sense of its massive scale in comparison their bodies. And see how it also has long, pointy fingernails? Remember in fairytales, how the villains always have those kinds of hands? Yup!

Nana is the one standing on a higher plane now, and the daunting hand is on her side of the stage, while Hikari is completely backed down to the ground. Nana clings onto destructive this system so much, that in this moment, her character represents it. Earlier in the Revue, Nana says, “You’re one of us now” to her. Hikari may have gone far in the London auditions, but she was back to square one in Seisho’s. Her weapon was even reduced from an actual sword to just a dagger.

(2:28) Hikari is prompted in answering this question. And it seems very intimidating to tell this daunting stage that you and your friend made a promise to do Starlight together.

(2:40) Lullaby Music as Comfort But moments after, Hikari finally starts to face this fear. Once she begins to tell the whole story about how much Starlight means to her and Karen, the mood of the music changes. It’s more uplifting, and we even hear some hints of sparkling sounds as that memory brings her comfort. The music, along with the visuals, takes us to that happy place when there was nothing wrong in the world. In these few seconds, she is reliving that sweet fairytale in her head.

(3:05) The sparkle sounds are back again, right when she says, “That was the moment I was born. As the stage girl, Kagura Hikari.” And her hand isn’t even trembling anymore.

(3:24) Intensified Violins as The Chase to Become a Stage Girl Oh god, this is one of my favorite parts of the whole song. The music sounds like it’s chasing something. This “chasing” music, paired with the visuals of her very first Revue, shows that that was the moment she bounced back from her defeat. She started fighting again because she remembered why she wants to in the first place.

(3:52) it sounds like the music is being defeated again. This shift reflects Hikari realizing it is now inevitable that she would have to fight Karen in the auditions. We hear a loud bell too, as the visuals also took us back to reality, forcing us out of those dream-like flashbacks.

(3:59) I really love this because they are literally fighting on the last building standing. Hikari has that much foundation left, but it’s enough to keep her going. The scale composition is also good because you could really the tower, where the crown sits, as it looks down on Hikari’s burnt stage.

(4:16) Lullaby Music Sounding Like a Child’s Wind-Up Music Box Oh lord, another favorite part of mine. Notice how this is the only part of the song where the lullaby music is completely isolated. We are shown a flashback of that day where Hikari and Karen catch up on all those years apart from each other—the very day where Karen reminds her about their promised stage—at the same place they made it years ago.

The lullaby music isn’t even a lullaby anymore—it’s a full-on children’s wind-up music box. And you know how you have to wind up its key all the way back, in order to hear the whole song? That’s exactly what happened on that day they caught up. They went back to the place they made their promise, as grown-ups. Karen reminded Hikari that if they can pass the auditions together, they could still stand on the same stage. And the very thought of that comforts Hikari so much, that she starts believing in it.

(4:39) Her hair pin—which Karen gave to her during the promised day—begins to shine, as she is empowered from all these memories.

(4:42) Alright guys here we go! The stage is shifting and so is Hikari’s weapon!. There is a lot happening, so let’s go over this one by one.

(4:51) Hikari’s Weapon, Part 1: the Eye Motif I like to think that the twinkling eye represents how much Karen has literally opened her eyes to the possibility of sharing the same stage together.

(4:57) The little “barriers”(/guard? quillion? Not sure what that part of a dagger is, and Googling can only go so far) weapon literally opens up too.

And having the lyric at this very moment be

Our dream unfolds

Is such impeccable timing.

(5:01) Tokyo Tower Falling The Tokyo Tower falling into the water, causing a giant tidal wave, is how powerful Hikari’s promise is with Karen. All these memories she just reflected on elevated her emotions—represented by the water—so much that it’s overflowing.

(5:18) Literally—who could forget these magnificent succession of frames. Who. Tell Me.

Before I talk about the water, I’d like to point out that Hikari and Nana are finally standing on the same plane. Meaning they now both have the same amount of power to give their all in the audition.

Anyway, let’s discuss what all this water means.

Water as Emotions As I’ve mentioned above, water is the element of emotions. The amount of water in this scene is how much emotion is contained and released within Hikari, as she remembers her drive to win.

Water as a Flowing Current and Tidal Wave Water is an element that flows—free to literally roam around anywhere it wants to be. At times it can be blocked by huge rocks or pieces of wood, but a tiny stream will eventually form, and will find its way out. Water also comes and goes in waves, especially in the sea. These two qualities of water shows how Hikari is able to bounce back in times where she has lost. Despite how many times her flow has been disrupted, or her tidal wave crashed—she will always make a come back.

Water as Cleansing Ultimately, the water is a metaphor for Hikari cleansing the toxic environment the burning stage had. Her memories with Karen are enough to get rid of it all—to wash off the destruction, and the doubt that they can’t win.

(5:25) Water as Life The lyrics here translated to English are along the lines of:

In the days when we were young The small seed that we planted then Has started to grow and bloom Guided by the stars

The seed is Hikari and Karen’s promise to perform Starlight together. That seed is being watered every time they remember to wear their hair pins, even when they got enrolled in performing art schools, and as they became actresses in their school’s stage plays, etc. Their plant has been growing until it started blooming today—because of their reunion. And because of Hikari finally warming up to the concept that they can win together.

And you know, the Act 2 of the Revue is literally titled, “Blooming the Star.”

The music in this sequence sounds like actual happy fairytale music again—but there’s a lot more instruments this time, making it feel grander than before.

(5:40) There goes the “chasing” music again, adding even more drama to the emotional quality of the song. All of this shows Hikari’s fierce determination to win.

(5:45) Hikari’s Weapon, Part 2: the “Hook” as Her Perseverance No matter how far astray Hikari has gone during her auditions in London, she still managed to find her way back to her roots with Karen. Just like how the hook will continue to grip on the same spot, until one reaches that point after following the rope it’s attached to.

She also uses the dagger/hook as a swing, and you know how she literally swung back after being defeated? Yup.

Not to mention how great it is again that the lyrics are

I’ll reach my hand out towards you

is sung once she uses her newly transformed dagger/hook for the first time.

And with all of that perseverance, Hikari wins this round of the auditions.

The last thing I would like to point out are the last lines of the song:

Our bonds connected by the stars Can make a miracle happen

Hikari finally defeated Nana—who has won the auditions countless times beforehand. Now I consider that a freaking miracle. But guess who else won?

Karen. She won against Claudine too, the second-best one in the class. I would say that’s a miracle. Karen—the girl who jumped in—someone who wasn’t even supposed to be a part of the Revues in the first place. And she won because she holds her dream with Hikari so close to her heart.

And that ends this long analysis of Re: Create + the Revue of Solitude! If you made it this far, please know that I love you. And I hope all these small details will add to your experience in rewatching/listening to the song/scene again! Thank you for reading.

#hikari kagura #nana daiba #karen aijou #hikaren #revue starlight #shoujo kageki revue starlight #i can't believe i fucking did this #HIKARI IS NOT EVEN MY FAVORITE CHARACTER. FIRST OF ALL #i mean i love her but like #MIMORIN JUST DIDN'T HAVE TO GO SO HARD SINGING RE:CREATE OKAY #also if anything is grammatically wrong please spare me i haven't written a ~formal~ analysis in about 2 years #my analysis

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allthestripes · 6 years

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Sorry I Suck At Love - 3/4 Speaking Through Music series

Craig rubbed his hands together nervously, glancing around the stage as the finishing touches were set in place. The group had just finished sound check, and now found themselves with some free time until the concert began. He wouldn't say that he was nervous, but there was definitely some feeling rolling around his insides.

After he had asked his friends to start a band with him, things had changed drastically for the group. Tweek had been supportive, using his contacts to get them started, as well as some of his money to buy them all instruments. They had insisted on paying him back, but Tweek refused, saying they take it as a graduation present. Thanks to him, by the time they had all graduated, they had a few hit songs playing on the radio and a growing fan base.

A gentle tug on his arm pulled him from his thoughts, and Craig glanced over, smiling when he met the eyes of his boyfriend. Tweek smiled back, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"You ready for your first live performance?" he asked, glancing around the backstage area. They were at an open stage in Denver, and would be playing for a sold out audience. Behind the curtain, they could hear the mass of voices chattering away.

"Yeah, I think so. Knowing you and my family are here to support me, I can't see how this will go anything but well," Craig said, pressing a kiss to the other's forehead. He took a step back and held his arms out to either side, spinning slowly in front of him. "How do I look? Like a rock star?"

He was dressed casually, having taken Tweek's advice to dress for comfort over fashion. In a plain black t-shirt with the band's logo and name, paired with black jeans and sneakers, he felt at ease, especially since the other members had followed his lead. The only difference was Craig still had his signature hat, the only splash of color in his outfit.

"You look fine," Tweek assured, tugging on one of the flaps of Craig's hat. "And I'm sure you guys are all going to sound fine too. You've been practicing for months for this, and you have a bunch of new songs. Everyone is going to love you. Maybe as much as I do."

Craig smiled, wrapping his arms around the other and pulling him close. "Impossible. I'm your Craig and you're my Tweek. No one can love me as much as you do, and no one can love you as much as I do."

Blushing, Tweek pressed his face into Craig's chest, his shoulders shaking as he bit back laughter. Craig was so dramatic at times, but Tweek loved it. They heard Clyde wolf whistle at them, and Craig flipped in off in response as Tweek stepped back.

"Anyway," Craig added, "one of the songs for tonight is specifically for you. I know you'll realize it as soon as you hear it. It's very obvious."

Tweek raised an eyebrow curiously. The band had never written what he could only assume would be a love song before, choosing to stick with more upbeat music. The slowness of love music was not exactly their forte. The closest thing they had was a break up song, but that had been about one of Jimmy's ex-girlfriends.

"I look forward to hearing it then, Tucker. It better be good if you're going to set it up like this for me," he teased. "I'm heading out to the audience now. I'm sitting with Tricia. She didn't want to be stuck by, in her words, 'my lame ass parents'."

"Yeah, that sounds like her." Waving goodbye, Tweek disappeared around the corner as the rest of the band approached. Clyde punched his arm lightly, grinning like a mad man as Token rolled his eyes and Jimmy laughed.

"He's going to love the song, dude, don't even worry about it," Token said, pulling Clyde out of Craig's reach as he looked ready to punch Clyde back. "Just stay focused and everything will go perfectly."

"Guys! Get in position, it's time!" their manager called. Nodding to one another, they went to their places as said manager, Jason, signaled for the announcer to begin.

Clyde and Token slipped the straps of their guitars over their heads, high-fiving one another for good luck. Token played a purple bass while Clyde's was an electric red guitar. They had practiced for hours together to learn their instruments at a professional level.

Jimmy settled onto his seat behind his drum set, setting his crutches on the ground beside him. He cracked his knuckles, then picked up his sticks, twirling them in his fingers. "I can t-tell we already have a g-g-gr-great audience," he said, listening to the rising cheers of the crowd as their introduction was done.

Craig nodded slightly, putting a hand on the top of the microphone's stand. "Good luck to all of us, let's hope this doesn't go terribly, terribly wrong."

"That's the spirit!" Clyde laughed, pulling a purple pick from the strings of his guitar as Token took out a red one. They grinned at one other, then fell silent as the announcer's voice yelled out.

"And now, I welcome you all to the first ever live performance of: Craig and Those Guys!"

As the curtain opened, Clyde and Token began to play, Jimmy knocking out a beat on his set. Craig launched into the first song with a gusto, remembering the advice Tweek had given to them two weeks before.

It'll be hard to keep up the energy from the very beginning to the very end, so plan the songs accordingly. Start big, go hard for a few songs, then take a rest with something more relaxed, then raise it up again.

The band did just as he had suggested. Only a few songs in, they understood the wisdom of what he had told them, and all silently promised to find a way to thank him properly once the show was over.

It was exhilarating, Craig realized, to be on stage. The rolling in his stomach was still there, in fact it had only intensified, but it wasn't a bad feeling. As he sang, his eyes searched the crowd, looking for his boyfriend. At one point, he removed the mic from it's hold and went to the end of the stage, grinning brightly at the fans gathered at the edge. They screamed and reached for him, and he knelt down slightly as he past, brushing his fingertips against their hands.

He didn't linger for long, and as he moved back, his eyes finally alighted on their target.

Tweek was standing beside his sister in the seated section. His family, like the rest of the band members', had decided not to get close to the stage. They got to see the teens whenever they wanted, it seemed only fair they sit further away and let the fans have a better chance at getting close.

A smile crossed his face and a few of the fans closest to him swooned. Returning to his original spot, he set the microphone back in place, nodding at his friends to signal what he wanted the next song to be. They grinned at him and nodded back.

"As I'm sure you all know, I've dated Tweek Tweak for a long time," he said to the crowd as Clyde began to pick at his guitar. "Like, elementary school sweethearts. So, basically, I've known him my entire life, and I've loved him for almost as long." The crowd cheered and applauded, but Craig only had eyes for his boyfriend, their gazed locked.

"On top of that, you all know that Tweek has written songs specifically about me. To be honest, for a while, I felt bad. Tweek has done so much for me to show he loves me, literally singing about it to the entire world. So... I know this isn't really our style, but I think it's time I repaid him. With everyone's help, I was able to write what I feel, and this is probably the most true love song ever to exist."

The crowd cheered again, but the noise quickly died down as Clyde's light strumming changed to actual cords, and soon was joined by Jimmy rolling on the cymbal. Taking a breath, Craig began to sing.

"I wanted... to dedicate... a song... to you, but all of my songs are about ex-girlfriends and puke." A laugh rippled through the crowd, and in the audience, Tweek smile, watching his boyfriend lovingly and wondering where he was going to go with this.

"So, I sat down, to write you a love song. It was full of cliches, it wasn't impressing anyone." With this line, Craig shrugged his shoulders, a lopsided grin taking over his features as he went smoothly on. "Even though I tried really hard... all I came up with was..." He heard the other three take breaths to back him up for the next line before dropping off once more and allowing Craig to continue on. "'You are a opossum, living in the trashcan of my heart', you're a opossum in my heart."

Tweek couldn't help the laughter that sprang from him. The lyrics were so very Craig, and it warmed his heart to listen. Tweek knew emotions had never been Craig's strongest area, but the guy had really stepped up for him when he needed. Craig was his foundation, and he appreciated his boyfriend every single day.

"I'm sorry I left that towel on the floor," Craig continued, "so sorry that I snore. Sorry I'm taking my band on tour, sorry that I'm insecure. Sorry I'm awkward around your friends, sorry I get jealous when you talk to other men... Sorry I drank all your wine again, sorry, I apologize so much. Yeah, I hope that I don't fuck this up."

Tweek found himself thinking back to the first real fight they had ever had. Not one from their childhood over a silly game, but the first actual screaming match they'd engaged in that had almost ended in their break up. It was funny, he thought. He could remember the pure rage he had felt at the time, but couldn't for the life of him remember what had actually started the fight. All he could recall was when he'd started to hang out with the Goth kids at their school, Craig had been strangely aggravated.

The fight was built up all week from small, passive-aggressive actions each would take against the other until by that Friday, they were being pulled apart by Token, Clyde, Jimmy, and Jason, just screaming hateful, hateful things...

He shook his head quickly, not wanting to think on the memory. What mattered was they had made up, and discovered that Craig was the jealous type. After figuring it out, Craig worked hard to get over it, neither ever wanting to go through something like that again.

The key changed slightly, the next part of the song being led into by Token and Jimmy.

"And he said," Craig sang before being joined by the others, "'Don't be so hard on yourself, you fucking idiot, I don't need, anybody else, you stupid asshole. I'm for you, and you are for me, but you've gotta get over your insecurities!'"

Grinning at the crowd, Craig leaned into the mic as the others faded out. "And that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. So I tried to reciprocate with something romantic and sweet. When I got home I thought of the perfect thing to say, but of course, in that moment, it didn't happen that way."

Tweek's eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered Craig's reaction after he had first told the other he loved him. Craig had been so caught off guard, his answer had been less than ideal, but it had worked for them. Was Craig going to out his mistake to the world? Not that anyone else would know, but it would give Tweek a fantastic way to rip on him for quite a while.

"I just held your hand..." Craig continued, locking eyes with his boyfriend. Tweek felt as if he'd been cemented in place, unable to look away from him. "And looked you in the eyes and I said..."

Clyde was the only one playing now, strumming a gentle loop as Craig finished out the number.

"You're pretty rad too, dude."

Tweek grinned brightly. Maybe Craig trusted him not to make fun of him, but that was rather wishful thinking. It was his sworn duty as his partner to do just that.

"You're pretty rad..."

The strange pace of the words being cut off was easily fixed by Clyde and Jimmy. As the final notes faded out, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Tweek couldn't stop smiling, even when his cheeks began to hurt from the expression. Craig was just so... Craig. And he loved him with all of his heart.

----------

The rest of the concert went smoothly, and when the band finished their last song and said their final thank you and goodnight, they retreated back behind the curtain. People stood up and began to move towards the exits, the Tuckers and Tweek staying seated. Craig had been very careful to not let his family be exposed in the media, allowing them to be free in public. Tweek was hidden by Thomas' giant frame on one side and Tricia on the other, his crazy hair stuffed under a black beanie and his eyes covered by dark sunglasses that he had put on when the concert ended. No one recognized him, making everyone's lives much easier.

Once the attendees had gone, the small group made their way back to greet the band. Tweek rushed to Craig, tackling him hard and knocking the other back a few steps as air was knocked from his lungs with a loud "OOF!" Craig didn't mind, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and hugging him tightly before they shared a gentle kiss.

Tricia made gagging noises behind them as Jimmy laughed and yelled, "Gaaaaaaay!"

Craig flipped them all off, his mouth too busy to say anything snarky in response. When they parted, Tweek snuggled into Craig's embrace, letting out a soft, happy sigh.

"I'm proud of you," he murmured, just loud enough for Craig to hear. "I remember how scary it was to perform for the first time, especially when it's about your feelings towards someone." He lifted his head to meet Craig's eyes, smiling when he saw him blush. "That song was really good. It was you in every way imaginable."

"I'm glad you like it," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "It took a long time to write, and the guys had to give me a lot of help. I'm still not really good at this feeling thing."

Tweek nodded in understanding. "It did make me think of that time we almost- well, you know..." He looked away, watching as the Tuckers congratulated the rest of the band on the performance. "I don't even remember what caused it, but I just feel like I need to tell you I'm sorry again."

Craig shook his head quickly. "It wasn't your fault," he assured. "I was being an idiot as usual and got upset over absolutely nothing. If anything, I'm the one who should still be apologizing to you. I'm a goddamn idiot, and you have the patience of a saint when it comes to me, I swear to God."

"Whatever the cause," he murmured, "I'm glad we overcame it. It's in the past now, so no point in going crazy about it. I'm still sorry about whatever it was I did to set you off. Even if you did just get jealous, it must have been something really upsetting."

"That's the thing, it really wasn't," Craig admitted, nuzzling his hair. "You started hanging out with Pete after he got a job at the cafe, and I just got stupidly angry. I thought..." He took a breath before continuing. "I thought you would leave me for him, since you had so much more in common with each other than you had with me."

Tweek blinked. Then again. Then a third time. Pulling back slightly, he stared up at his boyfriend in confusion. "You thought I was going to break up with you for Pete?" he asked. When Craig nodded, he began to laugh, the sound drawing the attention of the others. "For real!? That giant fight was over my bestie? Oh, God, Craig, I'm sorry, but that's really fucking funny."

Blushing lightly, Craig allowed himself to smile. "Yeah, it is, now that I think about it. I was just an insecure dope who refused to acknowledge that I dared to have feelings. Bad enough I was in love with someone, what would people think if I hated someone, too? I had a reputation of not caring to uphold."

Calming into little giggles, Tweek shook his head. "That explains why Pete was acting so weird for a while there, then," he said. "He must have figured it out."

"Does it count as figuring it out if I literally cornered him and may or may not have threatened him to step off before I gave him something to step off of?"

Booping his nose, he nodded. "Sure, for simplicity sake, I'll say yes."

----------

The night was a huge success, the band setting off their tour with a bang. Jason was an excellent manager and publicist, and every concert was sold out, the venues they played only growing in size until they ended after three months of traveling on the same stage where Tweek had begun his own career. The five's families were gathered together in the green room backstage, watching the concert on the monitors with Tweek.

They danced and sang along, cheering and applauding at the end of each song, thoroughly enjoying the experience. When it was over, the group celebrated with a pizza party, inviting the security guards to join them as Jason brought his sister. Crystal was a massive fan of them, going as far as to by a fifty dollar ticket with her own money to support them even when they offered her free tickets.

The tour seemed to be over in a flash, ending as soon as it began. The band didn't mind, more than happy to get home and rest after traveling for three months around the U.S. Back in South Park, they gathered at the Black house along with Tweek, who had occasionally acted as the opener. One might think the group would get tired of being together and want to be apart a while, but that not the case, all of them as close as siblings after growing up together. It also helped that of the six, four were dating.

"Well, f-fellas," Jimmy said as he sank down into a bean bag and set his crutches aside, "I think that went r-real well. I also g-g-g-got a ton of p-pretty girls' numbers. So I'm going to d-de-declare this a success."

"I'll drink to that!" Clyde cheered, laughing brightly as he pumped his fist in the air. He was sitting on Token's bed with the other, and his excited movement bounced them, making Token chuckle.

"Fine, but no one better let this get out. Imagine how quick we'd be dropped," he said, standing and heading to the door. The group followed him, making their way downstairs to the kitchen. Giving them a cheeky wink, Token pulled out a bottle of champagne, swirling it around. "Someone get out the fancy glasses."

Climbing up on the counter, Clyde rummaged around until he felt the delicate glass of "champagne flutes", a name he had never accepted as being real, choosing to call them instead "really fuckin' expensive adult juice cups".

Token grinned, pressing a kiss to Clyde's temple as he brought over them over to him. He had only been able to grab four in one go, but Jimmy, who had been spotting him in case he fell, approached with the last two clenched in either hand as he navigated around his friends.

"W-W-What?" he asked with a grin. "No k-ki-kiss for m-me?"

Exchanging a look, Token and Clyde leaned forward and kissed his cheeks, making Jimmy splutter with laughter as he wrapped his arms around them. "A-Awe yeah, I g-get all the b-b-bit-bitches!"

"Fuckin' superb, you funky comedian," Clyde said, grinning. Token poured them all a glass and passed them out. The boys cheered, then chugged the champagne down. All of them inexperienced drinkers, they hacked and coughed immediately after, setting the cups down to avoid breaking them as they all struggled to live.

As they settled down, Tweek leaned into Craig's side. "You're the opossum of my heart," he cooed softly into his heart, making the other chuckle and sling an arm around him.

"You're pretty rad."

"You're pretty rad, too, dude."

#creek #tweek tweak #craig tucker #south park #my writing #fanfiction #musician au #part 3 #the song used is i hope i dont fuck this up #by the dollar signs

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