#why do i even keep track of these things

[but-im-unbreakable]

i mean never say never but with the 4th uk tour queens leaving and likely becoming the six team's first contacts in case of an emergency (assuming they contact recent former queens when castle hopping isn't possible and they need an emergency cover), it does look like west end 4.0 is on track be the first uk cast to not have an emergency cover queen from the previous cast!

og uk tour: renee lamb (arts theatre aragon)

west end 1.0: genesis lynea (arts theatre cleves, this one technically isnt the previous cast but the arts theatre cast was the only other previous cast so im counting it)

west end 2.0 + uk tour 2.0: maiya quansah-breed (og uk tour + og west end parr)

west end 3.0: courtney bowman (west end 2.0 boleyn), collette guitart (west end 2.0 swing, if you want to count her as an e/c but i'm not)

uk tour 3.0: athena collins (uk tour 2.0 parr)

uk tour 4.0: harriet watson (uk tour 3.0 alt), elena gyasi (uk tour 3.0 parr)

[normal-person-i-promise]

「いかないで」

arataka reigen/reader angst and fluff

vent

× × ×

You're leaving again.

'It's just a short trip,' you'd assured him. 'I'll be back in a week.' 'I'll be back before you know it.' 'I'll be safe.' 'I won't die.'

He knows you'll be alright. He knows you'll be safe. He knows you'll be back in a week. He knows you won't die, but he can't— he can't get those horrible, horrible thoughts of you dying in unimaginably terrible ways out of his head. He knows you'll be okay, but he can't stop thinking about why, how, you might not be.

The two of you sit on those cold airport chairs, the metal chilling his skin. He holds your hand in a bruising grip, his knuckles white. He breathes hard, struggling to keep himself from crying. He shouldn't cry. He shouldn't cry.

Your suitcase sits in front of you as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, not paying attention to him. It's so cold. The steel of the chair is so cold. The air-conditioning is so cold. Why are you so cold to him right now?

Your hand is warm. Your thumb caressing the back of his hand is nice. You're nice. You're warm. You shouldn't leave. Why do you need to leave? Don't go.

He hears the words of the airport attendant over the speaker, announcing that the last flight of the day was prepared to be boarded. He panics, a tremor coming to his hands, his eyes growing wet and glassy with tears. He blinks them away before you can see.

You switch off your phone. You get up and off the chair, taking your luggage in a hand and beginning to walk off. His hand slips from yours, and he scrambles to follow.

He's too slow. He's too slow to follow you.

He stares at you as you walk. He stares as that god forsaken bag rolls across the smooth marble floors, making a sound so grating and horrid it makes him want to rip his ears from his head.

He shouldn't cry. He wants to stop you. He wants you to stay. He wants to say those words, he really, really wants to say those words.

'Don't go.'

As the doors slide shut, hiding you from view, he can't hold it in anymore.

He falls to his knees, burying his head in his hands. He cries, he sobs, he begs you to stay, knowing that you aren't here anymore, knowing you can't hear him.

He knows you'll be back. He knows you'll be fine. He knows you won't die. He knows you'll be safe. He knows you'll be fine when you come back. He knows when you'll come back.

Do you not like him? Do you hate him? Why do you have to leave?

He knows why. He can't come along. He wishes, he begs to whatever god is merciful, but none of them listen.

You're leaving again.

He knows he shouldn't cry. He really, really shouldn't cry, but he still, so selfishly, wants to say those words to you.

'Don't go.'

It's so cold. Why is it so cold? Why is the airport so empty? Why is it so dark?

Why can't you stay?

He dries his eyes, leaving the airport. The night is cold, silent, as if judging him. He's being so childish, crying and worrying over a week-long separation. He shouldn't cry.

The floor seems to swim and shift underneath his feet, as if trying to knock him to the ground. The night is falling apart. His vision is blurry. His head hurts. His hands shake. His knees tremble.

He boards the bus, sitting down on the cold plastic seats. He shouldn't cry. He shouldn't cry.

He checks his messages excessively, looking at your empty chat for hours, staring at the illuminated words on the bright screen.

'I'll be back soon!'

He imagines watching you lying down in a hospital bed. He imagines watching you pass on. He imagines your funeral. He imagines your gravestone. He imagines feeling the rough stone underneath his fingertips as he caresses it. He imagines bringing flowers to your grave. He imagines bringing your favourite food to your grave. He imagines crying at your grave. He imagines his tears wetting the soil. He imagines how lonely he'll be without you.

That night, he cries himself to sleep.

× × ×

You look so happy in those pictures you send him.

You're smiling. You're laughing. You're grinning.

You're so much more attractive than usual. You're so much more pretty than usual. Your eyes sparkle so much more than usual. Your hair is so much more shiny than usual. Your smile is so much more radiant than usual.

He stares at the pictures for hours.

He dreads the cold nights. He dreads the lonely mornings. He misses you.

He doesn't go to work all week. He stays at home, sitting in his cold, cold room, the blankets and coats and sweaters and scarves doing nothing. He's so cold without you. Why did you have to leave? You're so warm, and he's so cold. Why did you have to leave?

He doesn't eat, he barely sleeps, just staring at those pictures you sent him. Staring at your happy face, staring at your beaming smile. Staring at you.

Why are you so happy without him? Why don't you seem to miss him? What did he do wrong? Do you not love him? Why do you hate him?

He misses you. He loves you so, so much. He wants you to come back.

He counts the minutes. He counts the hours. He counts every minute you don't message him, and he counts every minute that you do. He counts every minute you call him, and he counts every minute you don't.

Seven more days. Six more days.

He misses you.

Five more days. Four more days.

He misses you.

Three more days. Two more days.

He misses you.

One more day.

He misses you.

× × ×

It's the last day. He's ecstatic, a wide, dopey grin plastered on his face as he quickly showers the first time that week and changes into something presentable. It's all for you.

He runs to the bus when you message that you're reaching soon. He sprints, almost falling over, scrambling up the bus's stairs and settling, shaking, into a cold plastic seat. He's still so, so cold without you. You're so warm, and he's going to be able to feel your heat again.

He stumbles out of the bus, almost falling over as he runs as fast as he can into the cold airport, almost slipping on the cold, smooth marble floors. He sits in the cold metal chair, waiting impatiently. He checks his messages obsessively, watching that live location thing you'd sent him. He watches as your little icon glides slowly across the path. It feels like it goes on forever.

You finally arrive.

He scrambles out of his seat, sprinting towards the doors as they slide open and you slip through. He runs into you, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing, squeezing so hard it pushes the air out of your lungs and leaves purple bruises on your skin.

He holds the back of your head in a tight, crushing hand, running his fingers through your hair. He buries his face in your hair, breathing in your shampoo. He's breathing heavily, and his breathing quickens further when you give a tight hug in return, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

He's shaking, you notice. His grip is tight, crushing, bruising, and he doesn't let go for a long, long time.

When he finally does, though, he lets out a long, slow sigh, his grip loosening a little as he puts some distance in between the two of you, just enough for him to look at your face. He cradles your cheek, his expression calm, calmer than you've ever seen it before.

"I missed you," he says simply, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, pressing his palm to your face as you smile at him. "I missed you too."

Those words make him feel good, make him feel better than he's ever felt. You missed him. You missed him even though you were having so much fun. You still love him.

Your eyes light up.

"I got you a gift," you say excitedly, rummaging through your bag. You pull out a small box, about the size of your palm. He takes it from you almost immediately, ripping the cover off.

It's a bracelet. A small, silver one, elegant chain wrapping around winding branches. Gemstones line the sparkling metal. He struggles to get it on, his fingers shaky and his movements fast, almost frantic.

You laugh in amusement. "You like it?"

He envelops you in a crushing hug again, muttering and mumbling as his grip tightens around you. "I love it," you hear, barely intelligible. "I love you. Oh, I love you..."

He releases you from the suffocating hug, his hands on the small of your back.

"Can we go for ramen now?" He asks, almost begs. He's starving, not having eaten a proper meal for a week. "Please? Anata?"

Your heart flutters at the sound of him using that pet name for you. It's so, so rare to hear him calling you anything other than your name. You don't mind it, of course, but this is a... Pleasant surprise.

You smile. "Of course."

His dopey grin widens as he takes your hand in a bruising grip, leading you out of the airport and to his favourite ramen shop.

He's warm.

[puppyeared]

ive made myself more wet and pathetic

[alluralater]

just finished moving around/reorganizing my entire bedroom. i have cried three times today but now i’m laying in bed, my room smells of roses, and i’m eating french bread. this was not the bipolar hot girl mania i was promised but damn if i don’t do it well

[megumi-fm]

.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i don't even like video games so why have i been playing Red Dead 2 for the past eight hours gay

[selunesfavouriteprincess]

okay but it’s like. if Lae’zel was in the modern day she’d be the top of all her classes (beating Gale who would be so fucking mad about it), on every sports team, head of the prom committee, just constant after-school activities, total overachiever, and she will not accept being second place to anybody. meanwhile Karlach is on every sports team but she doesn’t really want to be, she just wants to do sport for fun and hang out with her friends, but the head of P.E. made her join because she’s good at it. unfortunately getting mad about it makes her compete better. Shadowheart grew up in a weird church and was definitely homeschooled for most of her life and is only in a mainstream school for sixth form because her weird church want her to recruit new members (she sucks at convincing people the church is good). sometimes she says fucking insane things totally seriously and everyone in the class goes what the fuck. Wyll is a very nice empathetic boy who tries to get along with everyone including Shadowheart even though she roleplays warrior cats at lunchtime and Lae’zel even though she threatens to murder him if he gets a higher grade in the debate than her, and it blindsides everyone when they find out his dad is the Head Teacher. Gale would be taking five A-Levels instead of three or four solely for the academic clout it brings him. Astarion should have graduated ten years ago and nobody knows why he’s still here. Withers is the school nurse.

[goldensunset]

amazes me that people can remember information about routes in pokémon games. like ‘i loooove route 217 ❤️’ ‘route 209 has such a banger theme!!!’ ‘have you made it to route 225?’ ‘you can find this rare pokémon on route 210!’ bestie those are numbers. those are just numbers to me how do you remember which area is which. i think i have a general idea of most of them but i still have to look them up every time i need to refer to them in conversation

[buffysummers]

the thing is, blake was fine talking about her pregnancy. she was talking about it all press tour, in plenty of other interviews. ones even from that same day. she was open about it, that's the weird thing, why was she suddenly rude for no reason when she was fine with talking about it with other people.

also blake is getting called out for a lot more things than just that, so to say 'oh the world is just hating on a woman again!' is kinda ignorant. people are also talking about how she got married on a plantation, how she ran a blog about how amazing the aesthetic of the 'Antebellum South era' and romanticized is when slavery was very much around at that time, she openly said trans slurs, and now more recently romanticizing a movie about dv and marketing it as a 'fun sexy rom com', never speaking about the dv aspects, and using it to promote her hair line + alcohol brand. her husband also crossed the picket line and was a scab bc they let it slip he wrote on the film during the writer's strike. Justin is the only member of the entire movie who has spoken seriously and empathetically about the dv in the movie and how important it is to talk about, he also has a long history of being a feminist and speaking loudly about those issues as well as racism, homophobia, etc with his podcast.

again I just dont think writing this off with that 'everyones gonna hate on the women for no reason' mindset is correct. and frankly bordering into white feminism territory. she's done ignorant and harmful things and has the right to be called out for them.

Okay, thanks for the essay. The issue is that these people are pulling up shit from a long time ago. And she apologized for the plantation issue. The point is, women are not allowed to make mistakes. It doesn’t matter how many years pass, whether they apologized, how nice and kind they are 98% of the time. She was rude once? Okay? She’s not allowed to be in a mood? Like… what? Also do you expect a normal person to have a laundry list of every bad thing a woman has done? Like why do you have that so readily available?

All of this is happening because of Justin’s PR guy. It is a smear campaign. Like, to say that this kind of vitriol is warranted is also a bit ignorant. If you can’t see that this is happening because she’s a woman, well then that’s a bit ignorant too :(

Also… I have to laugh. Working on this movie and trying to have a productive conversation about DV is ignorant. Going into this movie expecting some kind of profound exploration of DV is laughable. Like… the source material is trash. Taking this movie seriously is hilarious. No one involved takes this seriously except for Justin. Makes you wonder what he’s hiding behind. Blake making it into a silly little movie is actually less harmful than whatever Justin is attempting to do.

If you are interested in watching something that is actually meaningful and explores the dangers of DV in a raw and profound way, check out “Big Little Lies.”

[medicinemane]

I don't know... horrible things happen all around the world and it's not a competition

Atrocities are committed against multiple groups in multiple parts of the world at the exact same moment, and none of them erase each other. They all matter, all the people in this world who are being brutalized matter. There shouldn't be any line you draw where one group doesn't actually matter as much as another

You're welcome to prioritize your energy towards helping one group or another, but what's not ok is invalidating or dismissing people who are actively being harmed

Same goes for trying to figure out which social group has things worst (and lets be honest, always using a US lens)

Like... maybe the important thing is to prop each other up and help everyone get on their own feet rather than trying to... pick fights about if physical disabilities or mental illness are less respected (I'm trying to pick a more absurd example but sadly I've seen exactly that argument happen before). Maybe it doesn't really matter and what matters is helping who we can when we can

I'm tired of it, I'm just fucking tired of it. Support people, champion them when the world is just brutalizing them, but you don't need to throw a single other person under the bus to do that

Which seems to be an absolutely impossible lesson for people to learn

[cerealmonster15]

hisoka from hxh🤝 adam from sk8

anime antagonist with cool theme music + fun character design + interesting character stuff going on in general but also. but also the. hmm. hmmmm. what the fuck.

[bmpmp3]

i feel so bad for cover singers who like to do a lot of anime music because rn one of the biggest anime openings to cover is Idol by Yoasobi which is hard enough to keep up with, like even if you can hit all the notes correctly you still have to figure out how to sell the speak-singing bits and thats a whole nother ballpark like dear god have you HEARD the sheer personality thats oozing from every note like the enunciations and the lilts and the subtle vocal fry like right before the ruby aqua bit in the “aida” like LISTEN

okay that was really tricky to cover but we made it. and now what if you really wanna get that SEO? what if you wanna do another cover, usually doing the ending song for a popular anime is fun too right? lets hope its not as difficult to sing at the opening- AND then you get hit with Mephisto by Queen Bee and you explode on impact

[tearlessrain]

I've had anxiety pretty much all my life and having my fears/concerns brushed off is not a new thing for me and sometimes it's justified, but it is uniquely annoying in this case because I keep being right, repeatedly, throughout the pandemic, and people are still acting like I'm just being my panicky self and it's not as big a deal as I'm making it.

[brown-little-robin]

🥱...

[fruitsyrups]

blank eyed girl and ghost fly and the first investigation and stakes miniseries (but specifically the parts that involve finn and jake) and also sometimes kind of objects or scenes (like the sword finn gets from hunson and the scene in the same episode where they're all eating pizza after marcy's concert ... all has a certain kind of atmosphere to me... a vibe.. if you will. i dont know what it is though. but im a little bit crazy about it to be honest

[intcrastra]

Both Robin and Sunday would be the type to gift their significant other smth they could keep on their person at all times. For possessive reasons, but also bc they totally put a tracker in it-