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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Cold Feet

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After receiving a letter from an old flame just days away from her wedding, Reader wonders if she should call it all off. —Inspired by the song Cold Feet by Tenille Arts Category: Angst (happy ending) Content Warnings: An almost kiss that isn’t with Reader’s fiancé, and blink and you’ll miss it implied smut Word Count: 1.7k

MASTERLIST | Alternate Version/Ending of Cold Feet

NOTE: When @meganskane announced her 700 follower celebration I just knew this idea would be the perfect way to implement one of the prompts she gave! The one I chose is “quit looking at me like that” ❤

Also! Fun fact: this song opens with “they’re all set to go on the 18th of June”, and that’s today, so it’s festive 😊)

***

She should be happily wrapped in a dream, Dying to kiss him and put on his ring. So why is she walking alone after midnight, Down a small town street, with cold feet?

Y/N is currently finding it difficult to breathe.

It was easier a couple days ago when she knew exactly what she wanted. Her husband-to-be was more than excited to marry her, and she'd reciprocated that feeling entirely. Everything was ready to go. Truthfully, they could have gotten married right this second if that's what they wanted, that's how ready to go they were.

But now? She was questioning everything.

She still feels the thin paper in her hands, even with its folded body currently tucked away in an old book she knew was never going to be opened again— a gift from the man who'd written the letter in the first place.

The first time she read it, her heart sank. And by the third time she'd read it, her heart soared.

And then her fiancée walked in, asked her about what to make for dinner, and her heart sank all over again.

Honestly, damn him for choosing now to finally confess. Damn him for making her question everything, after she'd finally moved on and found someone who would always be around.

But then again, she'd ended up choosing to live in a house in their hometown, just blocks away from that creek he'd mentioned in his letter. So... Maybe she hadn't moved on entirely

She hated that she even had to think about it.

She hated that her thoughts were so consumed with this man she hadn't seen in years when the man she was about to marry slept next to her every night, unaware of the start to her inner turmoil. Each night since then, she dreamt of dances with both of them, alternating between the two until they made her choose which of them she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And every morning she'd wake with an even bigger tear in her heart than when the old flame had burned it alive and left her alone in the aftermath to piece it back together.

Her fiancée helped her do that, though. Day by day he taught her to love again, to trust in somebody again, and he was truly a good man.

So why was it absolutely destroying her, thinking of getting married to him when there was someone else in the picture to think about? Someone who'd had a hold on her for well over fifteen years?

Again, she hated that she even had to think about it.

But she wasn't about to get married with all these conflicting thoughts, so whether she wanted to or not, her only real option was the one that would also be the hardest on her tattered heart.

She'd sent him a text message this morning that read, Midnight, and tucked her phone away for the rest of the day, drowning herself in mindless work and looking to keep time moving forward.

Now, she struggles to breathe as she makes her way down to the creek.

It's cold, having just rained fifteen minutes prior, and she wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly over her her arms, searching for warmth and comfort. She would have settled for one of her own, heavier pieces, but in some strange way she thought maybe having something there that belonged to her fiancée would ground her, something to remind her of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Nothing could have grounded her upon seeing her ex boyfriend after all these years, though, especially when she finally shows up to their old spot and sees him perched on the big stump right next to the water, relief and joy flooding through his features at the sight of her. His smile is just as bright and familiar as she remembered, and it just about knocks the wind out from under her feet.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets softly, standing up and stretching his hands out over his legs. It's obvious that he's nervous to meet up with her after all these years apart, and she couldn't blame him in the slightest.

She's just as nervous as her feet take baby steps towards him. Meanwhile she's hugging her fiancée's cardigan around her body tighter than before. "Hi..."

"I... I can't believe you actually wanted to meet. Truthfully I thought I wouldn't hear back from you."

"Well... Your letter kind of rattled me... You rattled me. I guess I just had to know..."

There's a long pause before he takes a small step towards her and tilts his head. His words are hesitant, like he thinks she might say something he doesn't want to hear. "And... What do you know?"

"I know that I love my fiancée. After you, I didn't really think I'd ever love anyone the same way again, but... He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I... I can't just discard that feeling because you decided too late that you still love me. You know?"

"I do, Y/N, I really do," he answers earnestly, and this time his hand reaches out to grab hers. "But... I mean, you showed up here, didn't you? That has to count for something..."

She isn't really sure how to respond after that. It's true that seeing this man in front of her for the first time in years has brought back a wave of feelings that she'd repressed and even experienced with someone new.

But it's also true that with those feelings comes an inevitable aftertaste of bitterness. He'd left her, decided ultimately that his career was more important to him, and now that she has someone new he's asking her to leave behind this peace she's found. And for what? For him? What's to stop him from leaving again, or deciding years or months down the road that he'd made a mistake and gotten her to leave her one shot at happiness after him?

Nonetheless, she sits with him for hours, listening to him explain... Giving him a chance.

He apologizes for the past, he promises to do better in the future, and in between he makes her laugh. Their hands brush, their breaths mingle as they huddle from the cold, and with every passing minute, the cardigan on her shoulders becomes looser and more forgotten.

Slowly but surely, he's lowering her defenses and gaining her trust. He's showing her bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with until they're laughing at close to 3am.

And then, for a moment, it's quiet. Absolutely quiet, save for the crickets and the soft rolling of the creek behind them.

Y/N almost lets him kiss her then.

But then her heart hammers in her chest, and not in a good way. Suddenly, she's imagining the pure heartbreak that would surely manifest on her fiancée's face if he found out- if she really decided to leave him for this old flame that had barely started to kindle once again years later.

She has to be absolutely certain of her decision.

So she pulls back and wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly around her arms. "I should go home."

There's disappointment in his eyes, and it twists her gut a little. "Right... Um... I-I can take you back, if you want."

"No, I, uh... I think I'm gonna walk. I have to think."

Y/N avoids his gaze just quickly enough that she doesn't see the disappointment in his eyes fizzle into a tiny sliver of hope.

Rain on the sidewalk, doubt in her mind. One thing's for sure, she's running out of time To decide what's right, And who's heart she's willing to break.

She climbs into bed some time later, the cardigan still wrapped tightly around her body, and she can't quite bring herself to face the man sleeping next to her. It feels wrong, like somehow she's betrayed him by even thinking of spending the rest of her life with another person. She doesn't feel worthy of his love.

When she wakes up the next morning, she'd somehow ended up facing him anyway. He's staring at her with adoring eyes, and under his gaze she can't help the guilt that washes over her.

"Quit looking at me like that..."

Her words are grumbly and soft because of having just woken up, and because her face is half hidden behind blankets and his cardigan, her fiancée doesn't know anything is wrong.

Instead, he laughs. "What, you're beautiful... And before you start arguing with me, yes, you're even beautiful when you wake up."

She only grumbles, feeling anything but.

It's quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. "You're wearing my cardigan..."

Peeking her eyes out from the mountain of fabric, she can see the enchantment in his eyes and it makes her warm. "I was cold..."

While true, she mostly means I had cold feet.

"Come here."

Two simple words, two syllables, and yet it's the softest declaration of love she's ever heard. Her body instinctively nestles into his, face going straight into the crook of his neck while he wraps her up in his arms.

"There," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You feel warmer yet?"

"Mhm..." She sighs into his skin and then takes in a deep breath.

He smells like home.

He feels like home.

And as he starts softly humming her favorite song, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he holds her close, Y/N wonders why she'd ever doubted her love for him.

He is home.

James never was.

Y/N burrows herself further into Spencer's body and plants a gentle kiss to his neck, shivering slightly at the way his curly locks tickle her temple.

He stops humming and laughs. "What are you feeling for breakfast?"

"Hmmm... You." She articulates her point by selfishly kissing his neck, reminiscent of Cookie Monster.

Pretty soon, the two of them are laughing together, limbs tangling and breaths mingling, and then an hour and a half later they're in the kitchen, sipping on coffee.

As its warmth radiates through her throat and chest, Y/N studies him from across the room. He flips through pages of a book as he drinks his coffee, and for a brief moment, his eyes flick up to see her staring.

The action brings a smile to both their faces, and Y/N has never felt happier.

She's never felt more loved.

***

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herstarburststories · 3 years

Text

Calamitous Love

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.

The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.

Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.

Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.

You surprised him once again.

You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.

Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.

‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’

And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam.

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration.

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas.

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

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sofijaeger · 3 years

Note

Felt sad/broke down crying earlier due to having a rough night (plus last few weeks). Can I request an Eren and Reader one-shot or Drabble where Eren sees Reader breaking down crying in bed after he got out of the shower and comforts Reader by wrapping her (Reader sleeps in clothes just an fyi) in his completely bare body she adores/loves, cuddles, whispering kindness to her, and lullabies to make her feel better? Thank you! (I’ll just call myself 🌻 anon if that’s okay with you)

my sunflower anon,

i’m so so sorry you’ve been having a rough past few weeks, and i was seriously debating on replacing eren’s name in this with my own so i could tell you how much you are loved by me. My dms are open for you always if you ever feel comfortable sharing how you feel, but I hope this can bring a bit of happiness to your day!

warning: thoughts about dignity, some nudity

i use the nickname Er (like air) for him, though i know a lot of people use Ren too. If you’d like me to change it to something else i’d be more than happy to!

i didn’t get to proof read, so apologize for any errors. and yes, Rex Orange County helped me write this:)

the feeling was back.

This flow of dejection fueling your entire body like it relied on sorrow as its only source of energy, not needing rest or even a good meal to supply it anymore. You could barely remember the reasons for why you felt like this, succumbing to the typical numbness of being down while giving up was an option you hated but found so simple to obey. And after time and time again you felt more content with keeping it here, inside of you where it wouldn’t bother anyone but yourself.

Not even a gleam of joy shone through your eyes as he pulled out of your driveway, one hand rotating the wheel, the other immediately searching for your clammy palm. Not from sweat or nerves, but from the tears you had forgotten to dry off before he arrived. Eren was well aware though. He always seemed to know, to understand.

You were utterly grateful, how could you not be when your escape from reality was right beside you, rescuing you to your safe haven. A place he was quite familiar to all his life, hoping someday you wouldn’t have to be a drive away but could tend to his own heartache for you in the comfort of a home you’d share. But at the moment, your mental state wasn’t the best at supporting your emotions as it usually was, and that was his priority. Apathetically leaning your forehead against the rainy glass window, you just relaxed to his hums of Rex Orange County.

It was funny, really. He chose this song on purpose for you. One that even if you weren’t familiar with it conveyed his feelings in less than five minutes, almost perfect timing to his home.

I don’t wanna see you cry,

you don’t have to feel this emptiness.

And he hummed along, reminding you of how comforting he wanted his presence to be, and how happy it made your heart in return.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower okay babe? I had an extra-long practice today.” Eren huffed with a soft smile, testing if positivity could lighten your mood. He was always so diligent, and you thought of it just about every day. How was it possible to keep a facade so inspiring anyone could feel a surge of power emit from themselves. A morality that made you question what interest he found in someone like yourself who tried to be there for others, but felt helpless, selfish in the end to her own needs.

Even after you could barely respond to his simple conversations he was still trying to make you feel better, and you were too dazed in your own world to comply. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come in with me?” He raised and dropped his eyebrows in that ‘typical flirty’ manner. One you normally agree to with a laugh if you hadn’t bathed in your own tears before he picked you up. So you answer with a light smile, one too fragile he easily sensed a cycle of your tears would be making another round. He hummed, giving your forehead a light kiss before jogging into the bathroom.

A gentle bass of the television played alongside endless questions piercing through your mind. But you didn’t know who to blame, you couldn’t blame anyone. No one but yourself bringing the people down around you when you didn’t even have enough energy to find a solution. Was it finally starting to show? Would you bring everyone into this pain with you? You couldn’t do that, not to Eren.

The water echoing into his bedroom felt like the only alternative to drowning out the second wave of cries you began pouring out that night, praying your boyfriend wouldn’t hear you. How could you concern him when all he ever did was bring you happiness. It wasn’t fair to him.

“Stop, just stop.” you cry out, pressing both your hands down your face as if distorting it for a few seconds could make you toughen up. But attempting to silence yourself was no easy task, between the dialogue of the TV cartoons and the fog seeping into his bedroom you sat in. It was all too much.

This feeling, you wanted it gone, or at least to know it wouldn’t come back, but it was strangling you.

Fortunately, this noose of anxiousness began to loosen, with the creak of the bathroom door and toned, bare arms gripping you in whole. Eren overheard you, he’d never close the door to leave you in your own shell. It practically brought tears to his own eyes listening to you suffer while he bathed, alone.

One-minute baby, give me one more minute. he repeated, sloshing the conditioner out of his hair before patting himself dry, then wrapping a towel around his waist and hurrying towards you.

Eren engulfed you from behind, situating your fragile state into his lap. The little jolts of your chest quickened, so he rested your head against his collarbone with one hand, finding your waist with the other, allowing yourself to breath the fresh steamy air of the shower.

This was easily the highlight of your day. Him, making what had happened before completely unimportant. What mattered now was the thin towel tied around his waist and your sweats being the only separation from a full blend of your bodies. His damp chest would do though, releasing that familiar musky scent you had already begun hypnotizing yourself into.

Eren didn’t say a single word at first, letting your own thoughts to come to terms with your body. By the steadiness of your pulse he placed his fingers upon would he then serenade you with his honest tenderness.

“Baby...” he elongated, beginning to stray pieces of your hair from your sticky skin. He wasn’t even sure what to begin with himself. Between trying to find just one quality of yours he admired so much and the nurture you provided him, even at times like these made him feel in debt. You were his family despite being his love, and the comfort you found in him, the trust you willingly let yourself fall into his arms with, cries you couldn’t bear to keep away made his heart so full.

Eren would always be indebted to your love.

He guided you down onto the bed, slowly flipping your positions in the process. His hair displayed tiny droplets onto your collarbone while his nose found your neck, nuzzling just a little closer to your ear with every rub.

“I can’t Er I-” you made out of your shaky breathes, sniffing in future sobs. But Eren wouldn’t let you hold it in, not for him at the very least. He shifted up your neck and pressed his body right on top of yours. “Let it out for me, please,” he whispered, begging that his weight could squeeze out any last ties holding you together. And they did untie, for your throat broke down, emerging into weeks of tension and built up hopelessness.

“It’s all too much Eren, I can’t do this anymore!” You wept, pulling him closer to you with every inhale. You didn’t want to let him go, let this moment slip away. And he would listen, not beginning to interfere until you were exhausted of your own thoughts, leaving your mind empty for his to infiltrate wholeheartedly.

He pressed further into you, squeezing all your thoughts out like an aura. His calloused hands found their way to your head, caressing it tenderly, and he kept his head by your lips, drowning himself deep into the voice of what possibly the most perfect girl in his life had to say for herself.

And while you tired yourself in your tears, he raised his head, kissing each one that spilled away, listening to every word wailed from your heart. He couldn’t be the one to change how you felt, for that solely relied on you, but he would guide you in every direction until you’d be able to smile on your own again.

Your half-lidded eyes following a slightly open jaw signified no more words could come out, and no tears were left to cry. It was his turn now, to make you feel loved, just like the one and only you are in his life, who he strives to become better for every day.

“Is there anything else you need to let out?” He cooed, brushing his knuckles up against your cheek. You melted into his touch, silencing yourself from the way he looked at you. The way his eyes exploded in a mesmerizing turquoise, full of admiration for you below him. He calmly smiled, examining each of your adorable features. Your heated complexion, disheveled hair, and shallow exhales made him bashful in your presence. He adored you.

“I wish you didn’t have to feel like this, you don’t deserve this pain.” He begun, ignoring your head shakes of disagreement. He felt awful, watching you side with your dark thoughts. It made him furious seeing them hold that light inside of you hostage.

“I love you. I love you for everything you are, and you better know my love for you will never weaken. You have my whole heart.” he took your palm, pushing it up against his warm, bare chest. That special heartbeat echoed through you like it was your own. “You feel that? It’s beating for you, and it will continue to.” He smiled down at you, radiating warmth you never wanted to let go of ever again.

“You’re my necessity, love. That will never change.”

If your tears could fall again they would, your mouth opening to say something, anything to share the love you felt for him. But Eren silenced you, emptying your mind again with a sweet kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened before relaxing into him, him wrapping a strong arm to your hips, caressing the soft skin with his thumb as the other guided your head closer to his. You pursed your lips loosely, for the feeling of his hand grazing your jaw made your nerves explode into a frenzy, his tongue peeked in every now and then to suck on your own before retracting back, extracting a few pleasureful whimpers and making you needier for him by the minute. He pulled back slowly, of course, letting the tease of himself end your kiss as he watched your eyes twitch in confusion from the loss of contact, before opening them with a pleading look to continue.

He just chuckled, meeting your nose with his in an Eskimo-like gesture.

“Eren I-“

“Shhh, let me take care of you,” he murmured, assisting you in removing your shirt to place you in his own. He was captivated by you, the little jolt your breasts made from the subtle movement, the effortless way your hair fell after being pulled up by the fabric. He watched you in awe. Though it wasn’t the time to fawn over your appeal, he couldn’t help it.

“Beautiful-“ he breathed, practically drooling in your existence as he crouched to meet the top of your chest, letting a few open mouth kisses slip out and down your figure as he reached your navel. He appreciated every little hitch in your breath, trying its hardest to become that little giggle he knew wonderfully. Making each other feel treasured was no difficult task when both of you could be valued as one another’s.

Before laying you down once more, he gave your lips a final peck, holding you beside his still bare skin. You didn’t mind the proximity and neither did he. You shifted to your side resting your head in the crease of his neck, smelling a woodsy mint release from his moist locks and look up, meeting his jawline to place a silent peck of thanks, for the affirmations now sunken deep into your heart, for entrancing you with his stunning physique and for being your other half to which no one else could complete.

“You’re mean everything to me_______, I mean that with nothing but the truth,” he responded, tickling his hand down your side, his lips meeting at your temple. He felt so homely, the coziness in his words, his touch. It was all so pure of him. Sure his feverish temper made you fall for him, but his mellowness kept your love unbroken.

A few gentle hums enhanced your sleepiness, slowly lagging behind his own as your eyes lidded shut. He was singing Sunflower again, you figured. The song could describe your relationship in a matter of minutes, the bond you two had shared for years transitioning from best friends to lovers. It was truly beautiful to think about, Eren was beautiful to think about.

And so he continued to hum until your soft, sleeping figure was well in its rest, a tiny raise in your frown guaranteeing he achieved what he wanted most, to make you smile.

“You know you need to get yourself to sleep and dream a dream of you and I. There’s no need to keep an open eye, I promise I’m the one for you just let me hold you in these arms tonight.”

Eren was beyond lucky to be himself, you could see it in his face. And after all the problems that had dragged you down, he was your boy, your reason to forget it all.

You honestly didn’t remember why, you let yourself get down in the first place.

#sofi’s🌻anon #my baby☺️#eren loves you so much<3 #shingeki no kyojin #eren x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x reader

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yyxgin · 4 years

Text

YOUR EYES TELL

"A future without you is a world without colour"

jungkook x fem!reader ; coming of age/angst

↪ summary: In your world, everyone is born color-blind. But as you find love, the world starts to get more and more colorful.

words: 7.5 k

warnings: swearing, a panick attack, character death

A/N: inspired by a tiktok about Felix I saw the other day lmao. Hope ya'll like this :~)

Little Jeon Jungkook was just nine when he shocked the entire classroom with a random fact about himself.

Everyone looked at him in awe when he told the teacher that his favorite color is red, even though it's the only color he can see by now.

"What do you mean that your favorite color is red, Kookie? Can you see red?" asked the teacher with a confused look on her face, but voice still careful enough not to hurt the poor boy.

"Of course! You have a red blouse on today. And apples are red! Well, over time. They are grey, but when september comes, they turn red," grinned Jungkook and shaked a little in his seat, perhaps from excitement mixed with a sudden wave of shyness that hit him when all eyes of the children were on him, "and y/n's sneakers are also red." he mumbled and looked at your feet under the table.

"That is… awesome, Kookie. I'm so glad!" smiled the teacher.

Back then, you were in awe from your best friend. You've never seen a single color in your life before. Your mum told you just what color of clothing you were wearing each day and you asked her to explain every single color of the rainbow to you, but you could never really understand. That didn't stop you from asking her, though.

Now you know why the teacher was so shocked. Jeon Jungkook was just nine when he saw his first color. People usually didn't see colors up until they are adults, or even later on in life.

People in your world are born color-blind. You live your life in black and white every day, feeling monotone and numb from everything that's going on. You go to school every day and you learn about the aspects of the world without really seeing them in full beauty. You get dressed every day without knowing how it really looked like. Sad days felt even sadder to those who still lived their life as color-blind.

When do you start seeing colors, you may ask? It's when you start falling in love. Some may not even notice it, because it comes slowly and naturally. Some start seeing a few colors at once, some only one and nothing for a long, long time. Some people start off with less-saturated colors that turn more vibrant as their love intensifies and some just start seeing the colors in their full beauty from the start. It varies from person to person. It was amazing, really.

But what was unbelieveable at little Jeon Jungkook seeing red at just the age of nine is that, he was a child.

Little Jeon Jungkook was just nine when his heart was already full of love.

You were fifteen when you layed on the grass in your back yard with your mum.

You asked her again about the color of the sky, the desire of finally finding your true love so big you could combust.

You didn't understand her when she told you about the saturation and the hue of the color blue that was right in front of your eyes. Of course you didn't. You were fifteen and still color-blind.

"When did you start seeing colors, mum?" you ask her and look at her with pure interest written in your irises, which color you're only about to see.

"When I met your dad, of course." she answered. It was beautiful to see the love her eyes still held for the man. You admired the simple emotion.

"How old were you?"

She took a quick moment to count the years in her head before responding a simple number. "Nineteen."

You looked at her in surprise. "Wow. That is so young." you beamed.

"Yes. But the thing is, it could happen even sooner."

You furrowed your brows at her in confusion. "How?"

"Well, it's also about if you really realise you're falling in love. Sure, you can see a few colors a few times some times, but they quickly turn grey in your memory if you don't embrace the feeling in your heart. If you sub-conciously deny the feeling, you deny the colors." she explained and your face scrunched up into even a bigger confusion, urging your mother to explain more.

"Yes, it's about falling in love. And you can't stop that. But the more you embrace it, the quicker the colors come. For example, I could be falling in love without even realising it. That happens. But you start seeing the colors only when you do." she talked more and you listened to her with pure interest.

"That means you didn't realise you were in love with dad for a while?" you asked, referencing to her previous point.

"Yeah. I didn't like him very much at first. Or at least I thought so," she giggled, "but after a while, I started seeing soft shades of color whenever he was around and that's when I really knew."

You turned to look at the grey sky again, frowning. "That sucks. What if I never realise I'm falling for someone? Will I be stuck with black, white and greys forever?"

Your mum laughed next to you, quick to bring you the comfort you need. She grabbed your hand and gently squeezed it in reassurance before speaking to you again. "Don't worry, honey. When time comes, you will fall for someone and your world will turn upside down."

No longer so little Jeon Jungkook started seeing the color blue just at the sheer age of seventeen. You know this, because he's told you just at the moment it happened.

You were at your school dance. It was your first time attending. You were already a sophmore in high school and even tough you had yet so much to learn from life, you felt so mature, swinging ever so gracefuly in your long dress to the rythm of the music ringing in the school auditorium.

Your best friend was your date. He asked you the day the dance was announced, excitement shining all through his handsome face.

"I thought you'd want someone else to go with you," you said, sceptical about his decision.

The little nine year old Jeon Jungkook who could see the color red grew into a handsome teenager. You swore some of your classmates started seeing color just because of your best friend, and you wouldn't blame them - he had the manners of a prince, treating women like a true gentleman would, showing only his sweetest side to the world. I mean, you would know, you've known him for your whole life.

So the thought of seventeen year old boy Jeon Jungkook wanting to spend his first high school dance with his best friend that yet had to go through her glow-up was a little unbelieveable in your eyes.

"Why?" you still remember the way he furrowed his brows at your remark, looking like a lost puppy.

"Well, any of these girls would go with you if you just asked them…" you pointed out, trying to enlighten the poor boy.

"Do you not wanna go with me?" his face fell down a little and when your heart physically feelt like someone squeezed it with full force. You mentally told yourself that it wouldn't hurt if Jungkook spent his first dance with you, because you'd like it too, after all.

"No, I do, really. I just didn't think you'd want to go with me." you chuckled.

Nobody else would want to go with you. You were sure of that. In your eyes, you haven't really blossomed into a beautiful girl yet, with braces on your upper teeth and boobs that yet had to grow into their full potential. Maybe Jungkook wanted to go with you out of pity, or out of obligation to your parents, because they were a big part of his growing up as well.

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend, I want to spend that day with you." his reasoning sounded sweet, yes, but in your ears, it only made you believe that what you thought was true.

Nonetheless, you smiled at him and nodded, searching for that excitement you felt just a while ago and answered him with the most joy you could. "Okay."

Searching for the dress wasn't that fun. You were still color-blind, so the color did not really matter for you. You were quite envious of Jungkook for seeing the color red since he was nine, because that would be enough for you, truly. It meant you could see the apples turn ripe, you could see the color of some of the fireworks on New Year's Eve, the way people would blush cutely in embarrasement. It would be enough for you even when choosing a dress, because you were sure that if you saw even one hint of a color, you'd choose a dress in that variation. But you saw nothing but a million shades of gray as you walked through the aisles of the clothing store.

You chose a dress on its siluette that time. You felt like a princess wearing it. What a shame you did not even know the exact shade of your hair that was braided into a stylish crown.

It happened on the last dance of the night. Jungkook swore to get you home by midnight and you were actually fine with it, because you've spent the night with him only, due to the fact that you did not have many friends. You were getting a little tired from dancing the whole evening and being up since the early hours after a short time of sleep you got due to the fact that you were just too excited to fall asleep the night before.

The song was slow and you felt the hands of your best friend hold you tighter, hugging you around the waist. It felt good. You always felt good in his arms. He was your best friend and you could not imagine a person you'd feel safer with.

"Thank you for tonight, Kook." you mumbled and put your head on his shoulder, eyes droopy and hazy. You felt like you could fall asleep any second in his hold when his excited voice woke you up.

"Your dress is blue!" he cheered, making you snap your head off his shoulder and looking him in the eyes in confusion.

"Yes, I told you that weeks ago, when my mum told me. You said that your mum helped to match the color of your tie," you pointed, voice a little croaky from screaming into his ear over the music the whole night.

"I know, but I see it now! I swear!" he beamed, eyes roaming all over your body, taking in the color, hue and vibrance of it all.

"What?"

"It's beautiful, y/n. It's blue. You look so good in blue." he said, biting on his lip.

You swore your best friend has never looked so beautiful before, with eyes shimmering in the light in excitement and pure joy, lips tugged into a big bunny smile.

You smiled a him back, squeezing his shoulders in return. "That's awesome!"

But even after that, you still felt something small pointing inside of your heart, making your eyes water a little and smile fall just the slightest bit, because

Jeon Jungkook is falling in love and he can now see the color of the sky.

You were just at the sheer age of eighteen when you saw your grandma cry for the first time.

It was hard to see her through your already teary eyes, but her sobs echoed through your head like knives that were slowly, but surely cutting all the way through your heart.

You were sitting in the plastic hospital chair, looking at the grey wall right in front of you. You swore the day felt even more faded than it already was, the fear in your heart clenching your insides, making you feel like you could vomit every second.

Suddenly, the loud sound of a violet sob cut through the air, making you snap your head to look at your grandma sitting next to you.

"What is happening? Are you okay?" you asked, suddely up on your feet and crouching down to look into the face of your grandma with her head down.

She didn't respond as she tried to catch her breath. "Grandma, talk to me. What is going on?" you insisted and held her hands in your shaky ones, desperately trying to understand the situation.

"I can't see colors anymore." she cried out and the noise was so hurtful you swore you were going to hear it in your biggest nightmares. You stopped holding her hands, bringing them up to cup your own face to ground yourself.

Because that was it. It's the end. There was no need for you to sit in the uncomfy hospital chair, because there was nothing left for anyone to do. It was over.

When the doctor came into the waiting room with a saddened expression on his always so professional face, there was nothing left for him to say, because you both already knew.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs y/g/s." he said nonthless, but perhaps he already knew that these words couldn't ease the pain you both felt at the time.

The doctor couldn't save your grandpa. He was gone. And your grandma knew, because her world was colorless again. She was left without her love on this world. It was quite poetic, really. Your world turned into grayscale as soon as your true love died, as if the world couldn't be beautiful anymore because the love of your life wasn’t there with you to live it.

You heard quickened footsteps reaching the waiting room as your parents and a familiar figure ran up to you and your grandma, anxious expressions on all of their faces.

You were just eighteen when you swore you never wanted to see colors ever in your life in fear of losing them some time. You were fine without them, if it meant you had nothing to lose.

You were eighteen when the arms of your best friend enclosed around you to shield you from everything, trying to take all your pain away as he whispered into your ear.

"It's going to be okay. I'm here."

Jeon Jungkook has been with you through all stages of your growing up. He was there when you lost your first tooth, when you fell and scratched your knee while playing catch with him on sunny afternoons, he was there even when you've gotten your first period and cried to your mother about it.

It only made sense for the two of you to become roommates at the age of twenty-one after getting into college. It did not surprise you that the both of you chose the same school, you two were kind of connected, after all.

And so here you are, laying on your couch in your two-bedroom small apartment, watching the TV with your beloved best friend. The scene was kind of domestic, if you really think about it. Just the two of you beside each other watching whatever tv show was playing in the TV to spend time definetly more productively than studying or doing your school work.

"I still can't believe that Mickey's trousers are red." you huff, pointing to the Disney classic going in your TV.

"What esle would they be?" laughs Jungkook in disbelief.

"I think you're lying to me," you playfully furrow your brows, "I always imagined them to be like.. green or something." you mumble.

"Green? Ew," he giggles, "besides, how could you imagine a color that you can't even see?"

"Well, I just have this feeling." you point out and giggle a little in return, realising the full volume of your words. You must sound truly ridicilous.

"You'll see when you begin to see colors. Green would really look horrible. Red is just right." he chuckles.

"Yeah, like that will ever happen." you scoff at him, earning a confused look from your best friend that kind of looks almost offended at the same time.

You glare at him and sigh. "Kook, we've talked about this. I don't want love. I'm fine as I am."

He rolls his eyes at you, scoffing. "You don't know what you're missing."

In attempt to change the topic, you quickly asked him a question that was, in your opinion, kind of spicy. "Who are you even in love with, though? Since you see some colors and shit."

He looks away from you, focusing back on the TV again. "I dunno."

His unbothered expression was truly getting on your nerves. "Yeah, sure. I bet it's Jieun, she's always been around since you saw the color red in elementary school." you chuckle.

His expression changes, his eyes once again rolling at your antics. "If you really say so." he mumbles.

"Don't even try to hide it, I've known you since, pretty much, always. She sat in front of us in elementary school and you never seemed to look away from her. Besides, she even goes to the same college as us. I don't know any other girl you've known since nine." you explain and watch him chewing on his bottom lip, the sign of him being irritated with you. But you don't really care. Just because you were fine without seeing colors did not mean you were fine with giving up on teasing your closest friends just because they do.

"Shut up."

Yeah. You got him.

You sigh again, finally getting back to watching the stupid cartoon replaying in the TV. What would it feel like watching it with color?

You quickly shut yourself in your mind. No, y/n. You don't care. You don't want to see colors.

You are currently sitting in a booth in a diner, a group of young adults surrounding your bored figure. You desperately try to engage in the conversation, but you just couldn't bring yourself to enjoy the company you currently have.

Jungkook is sitting opposite of you, Jieun right next to him, making heart eyes at him. Yes, she definetly does see color, you think. You are sure of that. Next to you, there is a tall boy from Jungkook's film class, Kim Taehyung. The rest of your group consists of Jimin, being a best friend of the boy sitting next to you, Hoseok from your english class and Yeri, perhaps the only girl friend you have.

Don't get me wrong, you love these people. But sometimes, you tend to feel a little left out.

Jungkook is talking to Jieun. They seem to be really engaged into their conversation, their shared classes being a connecting point for the two. Jimin, Hoseok and Yeri are talking as well, but you don't bother to even listen to the topic of their interest. And then there's you, awkwardly sitting next to a boy you've just met moments before, bearing the occasional looks from your best friend that are, as you interpret, urging you to talk to Taehyung and get to know him better. He really never shuts up about you needing to engage with people more, because he still has his mind set on making you finally see colors.

"Wanna go somewhere else?" you hear a deep voice next to you ask, making you snap back into reality.

"What?" you furrow your brows, looking him into eyes.

"You don't seem to feel comfortable here, so I was just thinking if you wanted to leave or something." he cleared up and you moved your eyes back to the table in front of you.

"Oh."

"We could go to the park, it's quiet there. Or I can walk you home, if that's where you wanna go." he says and you think about it a little. You look around the group surrounding you and realise that you really have no intention to fully try to enjoy the time with them today.

"Sure. Fine." you sigh and stand up, swiping away the non-existent dust on your trousers.

"Okay." he says before saying goodbye to your friends and leading you out of the building so you can finally calm down the headache that was starting to form upon hearing all the noise.

You quietly leave the diner with the feeling of all eyes on you as you made your way to the nearest park.

"Wow, I've been told I'm a social butterfly, but meeting you, I really don't know how to start up a conversation," says Taehyung and scratches the back of his neck.

You softly laugh at his remark. "I'm not the best at making friends."

"Why is that?" he asks with curiosity.

"I don't know. I've never really had that many friends growing up and college is not making it any better," you chuckle and look around the park.

It's fall, just the start of your first semester in college. You know just a few people in your class and a few of Jungkook's classmates, but that is all. You never really had the need for many friends. Jungkook was enough for you. He was always there for you, he was all you needed. You never even attempted to make more friends before.

"Aah, I see. Well, we could be friends." he smiles, looking ever so attractive in your eyes.

"Yeah, we'll see, we'll see." you tease him as you walk through the park.

Kim Taehyung is an interesting person and you've learned that just the moment he came into your life. The night was filled with laughter and you quickly found yourself feeling content and happy with him. It felt natural, being with him.

"You know what, maybe you are a social butterfly after all." you tell him just before saying goodbye after he walked you home.

"Do you see any colors yet?" asks Jungkook the next morning when the both of you are eating dry cereal straight from the box for breakfast.

"What? Of course not," you scoff, "why would you think that?"

"Well, you left with Taehyung last night and you seemed pretty happy when I came home later." he shrugs and moves to look to the box of cereal in a meaningless manner.

"Do you really think he is the love of my life? Please." you laugh out loud just at the thought.

Yes, Kim Taehyung certainly was attractive as hell, but no sparks went flying between the two of you. You didn't see him in that light. Maybe it was because of the promise you made to yourself three years ago, but that did not change anything. You were not falling in love with Kim Taehyung, or anyone, ever.

"He is a good guy, you know…" mumbles Jungkook.

"Okay, and? My vision is still in gray scale Kookie, and it will stay that way." you deadpan and stand up from your seat to go and change into your clothes so you can leave for school.

"I'll remind you of this statement when you finally start seeing color one day." he chuckles and follows you through the hallway into his own room to change from his rusty sweatpants into something more presentable.

Kim Taehyung is right next to you as soon as you reach the school grounds. "Did you sleep well?"

You look at him in confusion before answering his sudden question. "Yeah. Did you?"

"Just peachy." he nods and smiles like a little ray of sunshine.

Jungkook glares at him from the place to the right from you. "Are you not gonna ask me how I slept?"

"No, not really." laughs the other boy, teasing him.

"Okay, you two, I'm gonna head to the english class, I'll see you at lunch?" you point to your best friend, questioning him, but the answer comes from the boy next to him, making you furrow your brows once more.

"Yeah!"

He pretty sure just invited himself to come. Well, he wasn't called a social butterfly for nothing, am I right?

You meet Yeri in your english class and sit next to her, as always. It was good to have at least one girl at your side to gossip about all the boys in your class with. Nothing like a good girl to girl conversation.

"Boys are weird." you grunt instead of greeting, making her look at you in pure confusion.

"Yeah. Any reason in particular?" she asks.

You think of answering for a while, but decide not to mess her head with your confusion. Were you and Taehyung friends from now? It was always just you and Jungkook sitting together at lunch. It made you feel somewhat secure in the mass of unknown people surrounding you in the cafeteria.

"Hmmm, no." you mumble and start to focus on your lecture.

"Are you having lunch now?" asks Yeri after the class and you look at her with big eyes.

"Yeah. I'm eating with Jungkook and Taehyung." you enlighten her and try to rush so you don't keep them waiting, but your classmate stops you as she pretty much invites herself to join you as well.

"Oh! I'll join you."

What was with people these days?

The lunch is kind of awkward. Each of your friendships has a different dynamic and you feel like they don't really match each other. I mean, you've known Jungkook pretty much your whole life. You are confortable with him. Yeri is your new friend and you are both at that point in your friendship where you are comfortable with gossiping together, but wouldn't trust each other with their secrets. And Taehyung was a person that you've spent the last night out with and you didn't exactly know if you'd consider him as a friend of yours or just a very friendly acquaintence.

Yeri tries to start a conversation first, but you can't seem to find the right words to say. Her focus quickly changes to Taehyung as he's the only one who knows how to really speak in this group.

"Yeah, I'll go." you mumble as you finish your lunch and apologitecly smile at the three people in front of you.

You truly are not good with people.

It is winter and you decided to go ice skating with your roommate, who from this day was also known as your personal skating teacher.

"Fuck you, I hate this." you spit at him when you land your ass on the cold ice just about the hudredth time.

"No, you don't! It's so much fun!" he cheers and takes you by your hand, which wasn't a foreign gesture from him, but has always made you kind of shocked.

"Yes, I do. You should have asked Jieun to go with you." you glare and try to stand straight in order to keep your unsteady body on your legs.

"Why would I?" he scoffs and you swear you see just the tiny bit of redness creeping on his cheeks when he looks away from you.

"Because of the colors and stuff. I haven't heard you talk about a new one in a while, though. Is something happening between the two of you?" you bring up, questioning him.

"No," he shakes his head, "and I still don't see why you think I'm in love with her."

"I told you a million times and I'm 100% sure of it. I mean, you are blushing right now, so if that doesn't prove anything…" you trail off and look at him rolling his eyes next to you.

"Well, what about you and Taehyung? Do you see any colors yet?" he changes the topic and tries to counter-attack.

But he fails. "No. Tae is just my friend, that's all."

"Tae? As long as I know, his name was Taehyung." he points out and you furrow your brows.

"And? People are allowed to have nicknames, you know." you glare.

"You only ever called me by a nickname, though…" you see him getting redder at pointing it out and you can't help but laugh at his embarrased face.

"Yeah, because I only ever had one friend, you know."

"Is he only a friend to you, though?" he asks and you swear you feel your blood boiling.

"Why are you so obsessed with this? I can't see colors for shit, so I'm pretty sure of my feelings, you know. And I'm perfectly fine and content with that, I told you numerous times." you spit.

"Because I want you to love someone." he deadpans, making you stop in your tracks. You are surprised you were able to do that without falling again.

"Why?"

"Because it's beautiful," he shrugs, "and you deserve that."

"But I don't want that. It would ruin my life." you say, perfectly sure of your opinion you've guarded since you were nineteen.

"Do you really not want to fall in love just because you're scared of losing them one day? Because that's bullshit." his eyes are hooded with annoyance and his voice is slightly raised as he kills you with his glare.

"Love is bullshit." you argue back.

"Your opinion is bullshit! Why would you give up on love?"

"Look, Kookie. I'm not a hopeless romantic like you are. I don't need that baggage in my life. If I don't have it, I can't lose it. That's my view of things." you shrug and continue to skate.

"But you always wanted to see the colors of the sky." he says nonchalantly, but the sentence holds more hurt than you'll ever imagine.

Because it was true. It was your biggest dream since you've been a child. But if it meant falling in love, you were more than happy to give up on your dream.

"I don't anymore. And now, kindly go to hell with this bullshit. Call Jieun if you want to talk about love, I'm sure her life is full of color." you say as you bite on your lip, feeling your eyes burn with a familiar feeling.

You let go of his hand you didn't even realise you've been holding the whole time and cautiously leave the skating rink.

"Did Tehyung ever talk to you about… seeing colors and stuff?" asks Yeri one day before class, making you truly annoyed. It seemed like everyone but the two of you wanted for you and him to be a pair.

"No, Yeri, he did not, and we are not in love." you snap back at her, rolling your eyes. You swear that if she doesn't stop talking about him soon, you will cut a bitch.

"Oh. Well… that's.. good? Umm…" she mutters, looking away from you.

"Sorry if I caught you off guard, I just… everyone keeps talking about him and me being together, but I just want all of you to understand that it's not happening." you change your tone and try to act less annoyed than you really are.

"That's really good, truly. Because… well, here's the thing," she starts and confidently claps her hands, "I am going to tell you something."

"Yes?" you ask, eyebrows close to your hairline now.

"I may or may not have see a color or two. Perhaps three." she says and you look at her without any reaction. Don't blame yourself though, your mind's gone pretty much blank with a little hint of jealousy that you desperately try to hide. "And it's all since I've known Taehyung." she completes.

You are pretty sure your mouth is hanging open in surprise when she gently takes her hand and forces you to close it. "I know, I know, it's kind of ridicilous, but…"

"It's not!" you yelp, trying to calm her down and encourage her.

"Yeah, well…"

"And are you sure it's because of Taehyung?" you ask.

"I'm pretty certain." she nods.

"How do you… know?" you ask, feeling like that one time when you asked your mum in your back yard.

"You just feel it. I feel safe with him, I feel joy. Content. He makes me feel… happy, you know?" she grins and her grey eyes glitter with fondness over the boxy-grinned boy.

They are all right. Love really is beautiful.

But you'll be fine without it, right?

"I'll ask Tae about you," you smile at her, suddenly feeling like you want to play a true wingman to your friends.

"No!" she yelps. "Don't. I don't want to.. you know.. I don't want him to know if he doesn't feel the same."

You giggle in understatement. "Don't worry. I'll make it so he doesn't realise."

Well, you did say that. But the fact that you still weren't really good at talking to people was very much appearent as one of your permanent personality traits.

"Tae, do you.. see colors?" you ask, watching his tiny dog wiggle his tail as he walks a few meters in front of you.

"Oh. What a sudden question," he mutters and when you look at him, his cheeks are a little red.

"Yeah. So? I was always pretty straight-forward." you giggle.

"Why are you asking?" he asks, unsure if he wants to answer.

"Just answer."

"Mayhaps…" he trails off and nervousely giggle.

You stop in your tracks and you swear you can feel the offended look of Yeontan on the leash looking at you. He was a dog of many emotions.

"Holy shit! Everyone I know sees color now!" you yell out, not really knowing how to act at this realisation.

But you were here to ask about Yeri, after all. So you go back to the business. "And since when?"

"Since fall," he smiles and you physically feel your face turning into a smile.

Bingo. That's when he and Yeri met!

"Okay, that adds up." you giggle and he looks at you, shocked.

"Wh-what? Do you feel the same?"

You swear you gasp at that moment, all the air in your lungs leaving your body. "Do- do I feel the same?"

"Well, you said that it adds up, so…" he starts, but his expression quickly changes into a dissapointed one.

"Yeri. You met her in fall." you deadpan.

"Yeri-"

"She loves you." you blurt out, now anxious and desperate of saving the situation.

"But I- I am falling for you."

You swear you hear your heart thumping after hearing the sentence. No, this can't be happening…

"Taehyung…" you start, but your voice breaks.

"I started seeing colors since the day I met you, y/n. It's you." he says, biting on his lip.

You were twenty-one years old when you broke someone's heart for the first time. You were twenty-one when someone confessed to you for the first time, leaving you feeling guilty of not being able to love them back.

"I'm so sorry-" you start, your breathing uneven and short.

"You should go." he says as he takes the leash of his dog from your hand and looks away from you, slowly walking in the other direction.

You were twenty-one years old when you got your first panick attack.

You ran home all the way from the park, silently cursing youself in your head. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What have you done?

You tried to hide in your room as soon as you unlocked the front door, but Jungkook was right next to you as soon as he heard your heavy breathing and lound thumps on the floor.

"What is going on? Are you okay?" he asks as he sits next to you on your bed, eyes on your shaking body.

You don't let yourself cry when he hugs you and soothes your back, calmly whispering words of encouragement to your ear so you relax. "Focus on my breathing, okay? Breathe."

Just his thoughtful words make you get back to reality, attempting to breathe just because he told you to. You listen to his breath, breathing in when he does and breathing out at the same time. Your breaths were synchronized and you soon felt your hands stop gripping the material of his hoodie you didn't even know you were desperately holding on to.

"Are you fine now? Are you okay?" he asks with worry in his tone.

You just nod and burry your nose into the fabric of his hoodie further, trying to relax with the calming scent of his fabric softener.

"Do you want to talk about it?" his voice cuts through the relaxing silence again.

You think before responding to him. "Maybe."

It would be hard to keep it all in. You needed to talk to somebody. And you know you can always count on your best friend to listen to you.

"What happened?"

You sigh. "Taehyung… he just told me he's falling in love with me."

You feel his breathing hitch in his throat as his hands grip you a little tighter. "And what did you say?"

"Koo, you know I don't see any colors. I am not in love with him." you mumble and look him into the eyes.

"I'm sorry." he says, taking you off guard.

"For what?"

"Just… yeah." he scoffs and gently caresses your back. "Why did you have a panick attack about it?"

You bite on your lip before speaking again. "Because I broke his heart. He started to see colors because of me and I feel like maybe I led him on? Why did I make him fall in love with me? What did I do? I ruined his life, Kook." you explain, expressing all of your deepest regrets.

"It's not your fault," he reassures you, but you don't believe him. The guilt you feel on the inside is just so much bigger.

"I am not worthy of love." you shake your head, but your best friend is not going to let you talk like that about yourself and you should have known that by now.

"Stop. You are," he starts, softly cupping your cheek, "you are the most important person in my life. You are kind, gentle, sweet and so, so beautiful. So stop saying that. Taehyung knew all of this when he fell in love with you, and it's not your fault you don't feel the same. You don't have to feel guilty."

You stare into his eyes. "Love sucks."

"No." he shakes his head.

You sigh and turn around in his arms so you are laying in your bed, head on his shoulder. You felt comfortable and safe. You knew you could uncover your everything to him.

After a moment of silence, you begin to speak again. "What about you, though? You haven't talked about Jieun in a long time."

"Do I have to talk about her?" he asks.

"I mean, you don't, but you're in love with her, so I thought you'd talk about her at least once in a while." you chew on your bottom lip.

You hoped Jungkook never gets his heart broken like Taehyung just had.

"I am not. You just say that." his voice is serious and it makes you look at him in surprise. Your faces are way too close to each other and you swear you feel his breath on your skin.

"You are! Who else would you love? Or have you fallen out of love with her? Is that possible? You haven't talked about a new color since we moved in here, so that would make sense-"

"Y/n, I can see all the colors since I was eighteen." he shuts you up.

You blink a few times, trying to connect all the dots in your head. "I don't understand." you shake your head.

It's his turn to sigh before closing his eyes for a second and responding to you. "Do you remember the first color I saw?"

You furrow your brows. "Yeah. It was red. You were nine."

"Yeah. I was nine and you were my seat-mate." he says, but you still don't catch on.

"And?"

"Do you remember the second color I saw?" he asks again.

"Yeah. It was blue. On our sophmore-year dance." you answer.

"I was fifteen and you went to the dance with me. Your dress was blue and blue has been my favorite color ever since." he says and you physically feel your heart swelling.

"And?"

"And do you know when I started seeing all colors?" he asks.

"You never told me. I thought you only saw these two and green." you mumble, a sudden pain dripping in your chest. Did he not trust you enough to share that with you? He always told you everything.

"It was when we were eighteen, y/n. On the day your grandpa died." he says, licking his lips and nervously chewing on them.

"O-oh." you sigh.

"I just didn't tell you because it wasn't the right time. You were in pain, and I held you as you were shaking on the ground. All I wanted to do was take all the hurt and pain from you, even if it meant I'd die. And when I blinked, there it was. All the colors. Everything." he explains, his gaze not once leaving your eyes.

"No, Jungkook-"

"Y/n, I-" he starts, but you can't let him finish it.

"Don't say it. No." you cut him off, your eyes burning with tears.

You begin to cry as the weight of his words fall on you. Your best friend is in love with you, and you are for sure going to break his heart, even though it hurts you. You can't accept his love, because one day, it will be gone and that will hurt more than anything. And you can't let that happen.

"Y/n, just let me say it. My world is so beautiful just because of you, and I just want to let you know. I don't want anything else in return, because I know what you think about love, but I just need to get this off my chest," he begins and you have no strength left to stop him, "but I love you. And I have ever since I was pretty much nine." he softly laughs.

You shake your head in dissaproveal, hoping to let him know everything that is going on inside of your head.

"Why are you crying, baby girl? It's okay." he whisperes into your ear, holding you tighter.

"Because I don't want to break your heart. I care about you too much, Kook. I just-" you sob into his shoulder, bearing the second mental breakdown of the day, "you are my everything, you know? I can't let you get hurt."

"It's okay. You won't break my heart, y/n. I know you don't see any color, and that's okay." he says and pets your hair like you are a little girl.

"It's not-" you say and you open your eyes after a while, but the sight in front of you makes you stop.

Jungkook. He is so beautiful. His doe eyes are a little glossy, his lips bitten. His hair is a mess and his hoodie has a wet stain from your tears, but he is still so, so beautiful. And you take it all in, because his eyes are dark brown and so is his hair, and his skin looks like honey. His lips are pink and so inviting, and the hoodie he has on is dark purple.

And suddenly, you laugh through the tears.

You were so stupid. How could you think you could resist? You've broken the promise you made to yourself when you were eighteen. You had everything to lose now.

"You are so pretty." you say as you trace his cheekbones with your thumb.

He stares at you with galaxies in his big, open eyes and lips parted. You swear you've never seen a better view.

"What?" he chuckles.

"You are so colorful." you breathe out and his lips slowly turn into a open-mouthed smile.

His fingers wipe away your tears. "Do you- do you mean that?"

You just nod. Because that is everything you're capable of now. The feelings come in waves to you, but they feel like they've always been there somewhere, ever since you were little. But now, the intensity grew as the pain of breaking his loving heart creeped to the insides of you, making you finally realise what you've been feeling, but mentally denying all along.

"Jungkook, I love you." you say.

He softly laughs before slowly tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "I love you. But why so.. why so suddenly?"

"I just… the thought of breaking your heart hurt so much it made me realise some things, I guess." you mumble and look at his lips, still so pink and inviting as if it was the first time you've seen them.

He takes it as a hint, but still asks for your permission. "Can I kiss you?"

You gently nod before closing your eyes and leaning to meet him in the middle, your lips softly crashing and moving in sync, as if they were made for it. You feel the same wave of emotion fill you again as it warms up your whole entire body and suddenly, you understand why you've always felt safe with him and why all your happy memories contain your best friend. You just never chose to realise it.

You were twenty-one when the love you felt came so strongly to you that you started seeing the whole rainbow at once.

You were twenty-one when a dream of the little Jeon Jungkook has finally came true.

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sophiamcdougall · 4 years

Text

EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART TWO) I am back. I have barely eaten or slept and Tumblr has tried to murder me and this post multiple times, but I have survived. Thank you for your patience.

Part One of my attempt to explain the seismic experience that is 2020 Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is here.

Ready? I assure you, you are not, but let’s proceed. So Sanremo rages pitilessly on. Now everyone knows what’s at stake, and everyone, including your humble recapper, is exhausted, but doing the gay/chaotic best they can.

As the final battle to save Amadeus, Rancore, Italy and THE WORLD approaches, Achille Lauro has a last message for the troops. And I’m not deducing this, he literally said it on Twitter.

...Hold me I’m scared.

Meanwhile (sort of) (go with it) (time isn’t real at Sanremo) a minor drama has occurred offstage. Singer Tiziano Ferro made an ill-advised joke about Fiorello’s interminable comedy bits, some idiots on Twitter ran away with it, and poor Fiorello was upset! This is minuscule in Sanremo terms. But consider the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. Consider hurricanes. But who is Tiziano Ferro?

Hold on. We’ll get to it. For now ...

Fiorello is dancing seductively for an absolutely delighted Amadeus while dressed as a rabbit. And wearing a blonde wig. Is there a rational explanation for this? I mean, sort of. But also no.

And then he worries Amadeus might give him herpes, which causes Amadeus to freaking snap.

“No, no!” yells the mercurial Fiorello. Amadeus isn’t worthy of his kisses yet. He ricochets out of Amadeus’s arms and into the audience and “passes on” the kiss to a guy in the front row.

“Incredible things are going to happen tonight!” yells Amadeus, who has no fucking idea. ”Beautiful things,” corrects Fiorello.

But just because Fiorello is a mayhem elemental on a mission of love doesn’t mean he hasn’t got feelings.

Enter Italy’s sweetheart, Tiziano Ferro.

Actually, Tiziano’s been there all along. He’s the specialest of special guests, singing through basically his entire back catalogue every night. Which why it really was unfair of him to pick on Fiorello -- it’s not his fault he’s literally got to stand there and babble nonsense for aeons on end, Tiziano! He’s just serving the hungry chthonic entity that is Sanremo, same as you.

While the gay mayhem (the gayhem, if you will) surges around him, Tiziano has been fighting the good gay fight in his own steadfast way, so far untouched. His mere presence is a message of hope in itself, he knows this, and is determined to make it count. Ten years ago he was closeted, convinced coming out would end his career, and suicidal. Now happily married and gloriously successful, he is here to demonstrate that “it gets better”. He radiates such wholesome joy and resilience that everyone loves him.

So anyway, Tiziano didn’t mean to hurt anybody because he would never, and now he wants to make things right. So will Fiorello forgive him?

Ah, what better gesture of reconciliation than to goofily sing a love song written by Fiorello himself. Of course Fiorello forgives Tiziano, because Fiorello loves everyone, good and bad, (after all he loves Amadeus the most). But he is also a chaos being, and he is working harder than anyone else to channel the divine madness of this deranged Sanremo Festival into anyone who gets close. Tiziano, watch out!

Seems TIziano naively thought he could lean in for a staged, nearly kiss, but Fiorello’s very soul is antithetical to “nearly” anything.

“My husband’s going to divorce me!” wails poor Tiziano, but Fiorello has never felt so alive. This is Sanremo, bitches. Rules like “sixty-year-old men can’t be danger twinks, Fiorello,” have ceased to apply. He is an apostle of Achille Lauro, he has accepted the sermon of Benigni into his heart: it is time for PHYSICAL LOVE. While not quite ready (yet) to fuck everyone in the orchestra pit, he is throbbing with readiness, to frolic all over the theatre giving all the guys he can get his hands on THE KISSES OF HIS MOUTH.

Naturally this sparks further firestorms of chaos. “Do it again!” begs grizzled rocker and high-ranking competitor Piero Pelù. Electrified by the touch of Fiorello’s lips, he is later to be found running shirtless through the auditorium where he steals a handbag.

Everyone is kissing everyone, age and orientation be damned. Summoned by the gay sorcery unfolding, 65-year-old queer rock goddess Gianna Nanini manifests and is kissed worshipfully on the lips by 36-year-old duet partner Coez.

There’s also some kind of song competition going on I guess.

This happens:

That’s Ghali, GUYS, IT’S NOT WORKING, rappers ARE DROPPING LIKE FLIES ALL OVER THIS STAGE, WE’VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING.

(... it isn’t really Ghali and don’t worry. This is a gag? Which I still don’t really get? And nor does sweet anarchist cherub Fiorello whom we will later discover is currently being physically restrained from rushing onstage to tend to the fallen rapper’s wounds.)

The real Ghali raps in Arabic which among other things is a big old “me ne frego” of his own to Italian Trump-tribute act and failed wannabe prime minister Matteo Salvini. Then he gets close to Fiorello, which can only end one way.

All the boys are crazy for Fiorello’s kisses but Amadeus still can’t have any

It’s already a difficult night for Amadeus. TV presenter Antonella Clerici enters and far from standing a step beside him, righteously rips the piss out of him, which to be fair he accepts with grace.

And as for Achille Lauro ... ...No. Patience. The time to bear witness to the last stand of Achille Lauro is not yet come. There are other forces stirring at Sanremo.

Chaos has its dark side.

The gun on stage is cocked and loaded. This is it. ENTER MORGAN.

... and enter Bugo, who trails in behind Morgan, looking dazed and haunted. But whatever, it’s a million o’clock in the morning, aren’t we all.

They start to play. Italian Tumblr dozes fitfully on its sofa, idly crackshipping Amadeus and Fiorello. Utterly unprepared.

So most of us don’t notice what’s happening ...

... until the music just stops.

No one’s paid attention to the Morgan and Bugo in days. As far as I’m concerned Fabrizio Moro has already been avenged and my bloodlust is slaked. The song - apparently written wholly by Bugo - honestly, isn’t bad, but Morgan’s been tuneless throughout and their duet/cover last night was cringeable. There have been some major reversals in the rankings but at this point there’s almost no way they’re going to be one of them. And Morgan is not happy.

So Morgan changed the lyrics (and this isn’t even last-minute improv, he fucking printed it) to attack the one person who still had faith in him, blaming Bugo and Bugo alone for their poor performance so far. On live TV. In front of millions. After screaming at Bugo backstage just minutes ago. And he expects Bugo to just stand there and take it.

"Me ne frego to that shit,” thinks Bugo, and becomes the unexpected self-care hero of Sanremo as he vanishes into the night.

And that’s how I learned the Italian word for pandemonium.

Morgan has the absolute nerve to ask what’s going on. Amadeus breaks out in visible cold sweat. Fiorello is thrown bodily onstage to DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING, OH MY GOD.

It’s long past midnight and a bunch of worried middle-aged men in sparkly jackets are scampering around yelping “Bugo? Bugo! BUGO? BUGO!!!” and that, I am here to tell you, when you are already delirious from exhaustion and shitposting-induced hysteria, is more than enough to tip you right over the edge.

Italian Tumblr resigns itself to never sleeping again.The memes aren’t going to make themselves.

youtube

Translation: ”Is Bugo there?” “What’s happening?” “Where’s Bugo gone?” “I have to go and see where Bugo is.” “Bugo left.” “BUGO!”

Morgan wants vengeance. Fiorello, adorably indifferent to the fact that he was shoved on stage to, you know, entertain the audience, wants to find the missing waif, wrap him in a blanket and feed him soup. So they both rush offstage and Amadeus is left alone in a living anxiety dream.

The audience are booing. The 70th fucking Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is falling to pieces on his watch. For all he knows murder is going on backstage and he picked known powder-keg and scoundrel Morgan for the Festival. The buck stops with him. And he has no lines, no back-up, no idea what to do about it.

And then Fiorello, angel of misrule, avatar of lawlessness and love, strolls back onstage. He looks confident and relaxed, like a man with all the answers. Which he is.

“Have you got Bugo?” Amadeus inquires desperately.

NO RULES, NO MASTERS, NO SPONSORSHIP MONEY. ME NE FREGO.

Everything is broken. And somehow everything is OK.

Everyone, Amadeus included, bursts into hysterical, cathartic laughter.

“Is this my fault?” Amadeus asks. “YES!” crows Fiorello, lovingly forcing Amadeus to face his sins and his nightmares in a healing atmosphere of radical acceptance and mass psychosis.

And that’s how Amadeus learned that the real Sanremo was inside us all along. And what he needs in this glorious maelstrom was never a beautiful woman standing a step behind him. It’s a chaos pixie dream boy at his side.

It’s time to cast out toxic masculinity and become a better man.

So Amadeus wraps up the show as best he can and then out of pure human compassion, he and Fiorello personally wander the streets of Sanremo looking for Bugo until four in the morning.

Bugo and Morgan are automatically disqualified

And now let us witness the final passion of Achille Lauro. Who is this Achlle Lauro kid anyway? How intentional is all this? Is he the Messiah, or a very naughty boy?

SO YEAH. Anyway, everyone’s wondering what the fuck Achille and his producer/guitarist Boss Doms (yes, really) are going to do, and BE, next. Achille’s first three looks were inspired by St Francis of Assisi, David Bowie, and Marchesa Luisa Casati.

So ... Freddie Mercury, maybe? Elizabeth I? Jesus Christ? And after the flurry of kissing Fiorello whipped up ..

Will they ... can they ... dare they...

Do you even need to ask?

I have no idea how the crazy bastards who guessed “Elizabeth I” did it.

Achille thrusts his hips against Boss’s backside. Drops to his knees before him and lets the shape of the microphone speak for itself. Briefly chokes him. And throughout they are tender, elegant, and utterly, regally dignified.

And then, at last.

A joyous chorus of maenad-like shrieks rings out across Europe. If you’re in the Greater London area and your ears are still sore, I’m sorry. That was me.

That’s it. Achille Lauro and Boss Doms ascend into heaven and pass into history.

Not even they can give more to Sanremo.

The dust settles.

The dawn breaks.

WE FUCKING DID IT! RANCORE LIVES! WOUNDED (as are we all) BUT SMILING AT A WORLD TRANSFORMED! (Not only that but, after starting at the bottom of the leaderboard he’s been catapulted up into the top ten and wins the special prize for Best Lyrics!)

And Amadeus?

Well, let’s hear from him in his own words.

Because Fiorello asked him to, Amadeus is wearing a blonde wig to look like legendary TV host Maria de Filippi. Amadeus doesn’t normally sing, but because Fiorello asks him to, he joins him in song.“A WORLD OF LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!” they chorus. It’s the hymn of the new day.

“He can make me do anything!” Amadeus sighs to the audience. So Fiorello asks him to slow-dance. And they do.

The prophecy has been fulfilled. Amadeus has let love into his heart. He has surrendered to the holy power of gay chaos. He is a man reborn.

He didn’t find Bugo on that long, gruelling dark night of the soul, because incredibly, poor Bugo never left the theatre and spent the night literally hiding in a cupboard.

But he found something else.

As Sanremo finally, mercifully approaches its end, Fiorello grapples him close and, all teasing cast aside, whispers fiercely in his ear:

And somehow it was.

And toxic masculinity?

To find out why don’t we - and I am sorry about this - check in on Matteo Salvini who would normally be rage-tweeting up a Trump-style storm by now. He loves bitching about Sanremo for being “rigged by the left” or occasionally letting a non-lily-white performer win, and this year he even tried to organise a boycott. Let’s see how that’s going.

This, the gayest-ever Sanremo in history, is the most-watched Sanremo in 18 years, with an incredible 60% audience share.

“Me Ne Frego” flies to the top of the Spotify charts. (And though the judges are still cowards and traitors who left Achille in 8th place, there is no doubt across the media who the real star of the festival was. ) And Salvini’s “boycott” just meant he effectively banned himself from making a peep about it.

So who won the festival?

ALL OF US.

Oh, you meant literally.

This guy. His name is Diodato and his song is called “Fai Rumore” (Make a Sound.) It’s fine.

And that was Sanremo. It wasn’t a dream, it was a place. And you, and you, and you were there.

#Explaining Sanremo #Explaining Sanremo Part 2 #Sanremo #Sanremo 2020 #Achille Lauro #Amadeus #Fiorello #Amadello #sanremo 70

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

03:13am ||| Chan x Reader

Summary: Chan is always overworking himself at the studio, so you decide to keep him some company Genre: Fluff, some attempts at humour Warning(s): Cryptids, especially the mothman Word Count: 1265 Theme Song: Call Out - Astro AN: It was unintentional but YN is fascinated by cryptids in this one. I don’t blame them, I find them really interesting even though I don’t believe in them but yeah. Meet one of the oldest drafts I have!

~~~

Glancing away from his desk at the sound of a text message, Chan’s eyes were plunged into darkness. The lamp was so bright in comparison that it left him squinting for his phone somewhere in his bag.

Blinking then at the even harsher brightness of his phone screen he found a text from you.

Scoffing at your use at the meme, he was stumbling through the cold rooms of his studio without even thinking about it. His thoughts came slowly together as he went, eventually feeling very worried at why you were at the door and not at home sleeping as you should have been.

Rubbing his eyes as he fumbled with the lock, the door finally swung open to reveal your shivering figure wearing clothes that were nowhere near warm enough to protect you against the night.

“Y/N?” he spluttered. He was familiar with your strange escapades—he’d heard of them from the others accidentally letting it slip—but he’d never experienced one. Yet here you were, hair loose and shining in the automatic light above you and gifting you a strangely ethereal air.

“Hi!” you grinned, as if nothing was strange at all.

“It’s 3 in the morning?” He couldn’t help but feel the need to chide you as he spotted the damp speckles upon your jumper. It was raining, and you’d walked all the way here in it. He wanted you to stay safe and healthy, but he couldn’t deny how adorable you looked with your blushed cheeks and flushed nose that the cool wind had caught.

“I got sad after fever-writing an essay on why Area 51 contains aliens and why they’re hiding it from us—can I come in?”

He stepped aside without hesitation, letting you in and immediately leading you through the halls towards the only place with some heat. He rambled on and on about how it wasn’t smart to stay up so late and how you should be wary of overworking yourself as you went. Meanwhile you merely chuckled at him—a sound he secretly prized above all others.

“I knew you’d still be awake,” you said, as you finally reached his little lair, coming to perch on the armchair the furthest away from the buttons on the expensive equipment—you knew he would stress out even more if you didn’t, specifically after last time. You looked up at his figure in the dark, the lights dim and sinking into the soundproofed walls.

“And you shouldn’t be,” he insisted weakly.

“Don’t want my company?” You pouted, watching him fluster and quickly deny his words, before eventually chuckling at him. “Relax, I’m not going to leave you. I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake the kids. Besides, I figured you could do with some conversation, if you’re pulling an all-nighter again.”

He rolled his eyes at you, not that he was irritated in the slightest and it showed in the dimples that refused to leave his cheeks. His day was always brightened by your presence, and this evening—morning?—was no different.

“Well, if you’re staying, you’d better come over to the side room.” He began to step towards the door that he’d left ajar, cocking his head in a beckoning manner.

“Is that where you’ve set up camp?” You pursed your lips at him playfully, “I don’t know, Channie, I think you should take a break before you get to work again.”

He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you and biting his lip, desperately trying to pretend to be cross. “Not even a minute in my studio and you’re already trying to distract me from my work!”

You didn’t answer him, because you both knew that you were doing it for his own good, and so instead you outstretched your arms, giving him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

And he knew he couldn’t. However, he also had to consider the ever-encroaching deadline, and soon his brain had worked out a way for him to have his cake and eat it.

He narrowed his eyes at you with a smirk, once again beckoning you to where he’d been working. He rarely resisted your charms so smoothly, and so, out of pure curiosity, you followed him to the tiny offshoot room—that was more of a glorified closet—to see what he had in store for you.

“Comfy, love?” he enquired, to which you muffled a ‘yes’ into his shoulder.

Chan had sat you on his lap where he sat at his desk, your feet slipped through the gaps in the chair and left swinging inches off the floorboards. It was more comfortable for you than you’d expected, and after nuzzling yourself into his chest for mere moments, you’d already felt yourself drifting off.

After having a quick nap, you’d awoken and leant back against the wood, slipping crisps between his lips every so often as in when you weren’t scoffing them yourself.

Even though you were most likely his biggest distraction, you were simultaneously his biggest aide, as well as inspiration. You kept an eye on ihs breaks, made sure he didn’t stress too much, and always offered sound advice.

Having settled back against his chest, hand stroking the base of his neck as the other scrolled through your phone.

“Apparently there’s a new cryptid on the loose,” you piped up, “in Massachusetts. It rifles through bins and scares the local kids when they loose their basketball all ‘It’-like.”

Chan exhaled, discarding his mouse upon its mat haphazardly as he leant back into the plastic of the chair, shifting your weight on his thighs as his arms wrapped around your waist. Warm hands nestled into your sides he let his eyes close as he rested his head against your shoulder. “I bet you it’s a fox.”

You chuckled, eyes scouring over the grainy photo. “Probably.”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, Chan spoke up, his voice clearly drowsy, “Do you believe these cryptids are real?”

A sly smile played on your lips as you shrugged. “I have to believe they are.”

“How come?”

You pulled away so you could meet your boyfriend’s gaze, your fingers gracing his jaw softly. “Because I’ve met one.”

He frowned at you, not entirely convinced. “A whole year of knowing you and hearing you ramble about cryptids and not once I’ve heard about your personal encounter? Something doesn’t seem right, love.”

“Don’t you want to know what I met?” you urged, starting to slightly worry he was warming up to your tricks and wasn’t going to allow for any execution of this one.

He pretended to think for a moment, though his mind was made up all along. Taking a hand and drawing circles upon the small of your back gently he finally answered, “Go on then.”

Your grin was as bright as the sun as you spoke. “You!”

Your boyfriend was stunned to say the least. “What?!”

“I met you,” you reiterated, finding probably too much joy in his bemused features.

“Why am I a cryptid?”

“You’re too handsome.”

He smushed his lips together as he grimaced, letting his head tip back in faux disappointment. “Oh what...? No! No, Y/N, aiishh...”

“Yes, Channie, yes,” you sang, sinking to rest your chin on his chest.

“And there was me thinking you were going to say that you’d met real goblins before because you know Jeongin and Seungmin,” he sighed exasperatedly.

“You really thought you’d caught up with me yet? Oh baby,” you squished his cheeks, giggling as he groaned. “Though I’ll admit you’re right there too.”

“See! I’ll catch up with you one day,” he declared, sitting up and prodding your cheeks in return.

And that’s the story of how the janitor, after investigating strange noises with a broom in hand just in case, found out that there were no cryptids or ghosts lurking in the siderooms, only two strange insomniacs canoodling at a desk at 5:50 in the morning.

~~~

AN: I’ve had this prompt in my drafts for so long—from before I knew how to make proper em dashes on here—and it’s finally seeing the light of day, I’m so happy

i hope it was worth the wait ?

[photo used in profile pic is not mine i sourced it from pinterest]

Masterlist

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thegayestasexual · 4 years

Text

Inspired by: @virgil-is-a-cutie and @ineedspellcheck

Beggin On Your Knees

Tory knew Ryder Daniels, the hottest guy in his Acapella class. It was also pretty obvious that he had the biggest crush on him, even though he’s tried to hide it in the most subtle way ever.

He was always obvious with his crushes, it’s a wonder that Jade and Beck never seemed to notice his crush on them. The couple just made him fumble and stumble over his words, but can you blame him? Jade was gorgeous, and Beck was HOT. Anyone would be dumb for not crushing on them.

But that wasn’t the case, the whole Ryder mess started one morning. The class had their annually harmonizing moment. Well, everyone until the very last key when poor Robbie Shapiro started to go off the key.

The teacher, who will be called Mr. Jones, winced visibly hearing the very distinct off key note. “Hold up hold up!” He silenced the class. “Someone was off key.” He scanned the class, before landing on Robbie

Tory straightened up, glancing over his shoulder. “Alright, who was it?” He questioned crossing his arms over his chest.

“Two hints.” The puppet that often was held up by Robbie, other wise known as Rex, finally piped up. “It starts with Robbie, and ends with Shapiro.” He turned his puppet head towards his owner, almost mocking him.

“My Singing was not off.” The nerdy male retorted

“Man your whole life is off.” Came the quipped response of the puppet.

“Well, I think maybe...” Robbie began to look around nervously, until his eyes landed on his best friend in the form of Tory Vega. “Tory was off key!”

Tory places his hands onto his knees giving Robbie an incredulous look, he pouted while rolling his eyes. Giving him a very pouty “well!” In return.

But then Ryder Daniels, hot senior boy, spoke up, and really it made Tory flush. “Tory wasn’t off key!” He went immediately to the other boy’s defense. “You were perfect.” He turned to look at the male, a charming smile making its way up to his face. “Really nice tone.”

Tory couldn’t help but smile giddily at the comment, suddenly becoming very bashful. Usually it was a very confident persona that was at the forefront. At least when it wasn’t around his crushes, and Ryder IS one of them.

All of a sudden the bell rang before Tory could reply. When people started getting up, Mr. Jones held up his hands to signal them to wait.

“Hold up, let’s talk about your homework.” He said leveling the group with a stern look.

“The full moon jam?” Rex spoke up.

A Mmhm was uttered by the teacher with a follow up of “you all will have to do a song with it counting as a third of your semester grade.”

“We have to sing a solo?” Ryder immediately said, stepping forward to the teacher.

“That, or a duet.” The teacher answered, raising an eyebrow at Ryder

Tory couldn’t help but smile, he slid over to Robbie with a soft “do you think Ryder would work with me?”

Robbie gave his friend a exasperated look, wrapping one of his arms around Tory while the other sat Rex down. “Are we really kidding here? Any guy or girl would LOVE to work with you.” He answers him, the two of them were pretty nerdy and got along great because of Star Wars. Before Tory even came to Hollywood Arts, the two of them met through a forum on debate whether Luke deserved to be a Hermit.

“Actually.” Ryder stepped backwards from the door, he turned around and made a stride over to Tory. “Do you, maybe, want to go out?” He asked pretty sheepish, and if it wasn’t for Robbie holding him up. Tory was damn sure he would have fainted then and there.

Another grateful thing Robbie was there for, was to be Tory’s translator. “He would love to!” The Shapiro male spoke up for his friend immediately. “Sushi? He makes a KILLER spicy tuna balls.”

“Spicy...tuna balls?” If it wasn’t for the act Ryder kept up, he would have found the term spicy tuna balls endearing. But he never even liked guys. So he had to keep up appearances. “Sure, I’ll see you tonight, Tory?” He smiles with that charming smile of his.

“Yes!” Tory nods his head eagerly, grinning widely at the hottest senior in his class. He had no idea that Ryder was doing this just to get a good grade.

As the two friends made their way out of the classroom, and towards their friend group. Rex in Robboes arms.

“Handsome boy just asked me out!!” Tory finally screamed as soon as Robbie and he made it up to Cat, Jade, Beck, and Andre. That caught Beck and Jade’s attention

Which sparked an intense jealousy within the couple. If anything, the PEOPLE who should be asking Tory out were Jade and Beck. They’ve had their eyes on the boy ever since Beck kissed him in their improv class. Jade really wanted to include him into the relationship, it just wasn’t the time.

“Who?” Andre grinned, very happy that his best friend scored. He did his usual handshake with the glasses wearing male. “Is he that hot?”

“Hell yes.” Tory answered, nearly swooning. “It’s Ryder Daniels.”

“Hot Ryder Daniels?” Jade stood straight up, her hand clenched around the coffee cup she was holding. Her voice had the strain of a threat, which Tory couldn’t tell why she was like that. “I don’t trust him.” She grits out.

“You don’t? Really he is everything a girl wants, I wish I could be like him.” Robbie answered in response, a laugh coming from Rex

“Like him?! You can never be like hot man!” Rex says with a laugh.

Robbie huffed narrowing his eyes. “I can too!”

Tory tolled his eyes with a smile, while walking off to his next class. Completely missing the way the couple looked at him longingly.

(Skip times to when Trina finds out)

“Ryder Daniels?” Trina stood up straight staring at her younger brother, she frowns making her way towards Tory. “He’s bad news. Don’t date him.” She says placing her hands on his shoulders. “I’m pretty sure he’s only dated girls before, and he is toying with your heart.” As much as the two of them were dicks to one another, Trina really cared for Tory. There was no way in HELL she would let the likes of Ryder Daniels destroy and shatter her little brother’s heart.

She would rather die and be sent to hell before she would want that.

But like Tory does, he still goes on the date. And it’s wonderful! They hit it off great, the spicy tuna balls were really good from what Ryder said. Tory couldn’t be even more joyed than right now. “So, do you want hang out tomorrow? There’s this really cool laser tag in town.” Tory asks his new boyfriend, smiling widely at him.

Ryder shirts his position on the couch, keeping his arm wrapped around Tory. “I would but...I have to pick a song for the Full moon jam, I have to start rehearsing it.” He took his arm off the male leaning forward and placing his hands on his face. “I don’t even know what to pick! I’m very scared to do it by myself.”

Tory jumped up, looking at Ryder with concerned her determined eyes. “We could do a song together! Duets right?”

‘Hook, line, and sinker.’ Ryder thought yo himself, giving Tory a smile then a kiss to the forehead. “I would love that.”

If Tory was made out of goo then he was sure that he would have melted. All the while neither of them noticed one Robbie Shapiro taking notes outside.

(Next day)

“Hey Ryder!” Tory grinned widely, walking towards who seemed like jos boyfriend. No, it was his best friend Robbie Shapiro. Who was talking to Cat. “Robbie?” He questions, very confused seeing his friend in his get up.

Robbie wore skinny jeans that hugged his legs a bit tightly, a leather jacket over his black shirt. He grinned widely running his fingers through his smoothed out curls. It took him all morning to get those curls tamed! “Hey there, Tor.” He says

Cat looked from Tory to Robbie then back again. “Am I missing something?” Poor sweet innocent Catherine Valentine. She didn’t know a thing. Well that was to be expected, she has been dealing with Northstar. Speaking of which...

Cat happily giggled as she heard her phone ring, answering it and bringing it up to her ear. She excused herself from the two of them walking off to help the poor person in an accident.

Robbie watched the girl leave, confusion written all over his face before shaking his head and turning to Tory. “So, what do you think?” He questions with a grin?

“I mean if you weren’t straight I would hit it.” Tory offered helpfully, placing a hand on Robbie’s shoulder. “But why? And why is your ear bleeding?” Concern started to fill inside him, ready to bandage his friend in case it needed it. Robbie really didn’t need an infection.

“Oh I tried to get it pierced like Ryder!”

“Robbie...Ryder doesn’t have his ear pierced.”

Robbie then whipped his head over to his puppet, “you said he did!”

All Rex could do was laugh. “Ha, had to make you a fool.”

Tory could only pinch the bridge of his nose making his way to the studio with Ryder to practice.

He managed to pass Jade and Beck on the way, nor noticing that Jade’s grip on Beck started to tighten.

“He should be ours.” Jade mumbled to her boyfriend, casting a look of loving longing towards the boy they passed.

“I know.” Beck whispered to his girlfriend, letting out a sigh. “But I guess we lost our chance? He’s ryders.” He said a little bitterly

Jade didn’t want to admit it, but they had. If the two of them hadn’t decided it wasn’t the best time, then Tory probably would be kissing them instead of Ryder MotherFucking Daniels. She didn’t trust him, and she didn’t want to see Tory in someone else’s arms.

And she had a right to not trust him, after the two of them made their way to the auditorium where auditions were held. Right when Kristen and Robbie were having their talk.

“Ryder Daniels.” Kristen started pulling her bag onto her shoulder. “He started going out with me during Dance class when we had a big project, and I was the best in my class. But after that huge project? Never called me back.” She scoffed

“You myst have felt...dirty.” Robbie sympathetically spoke taking his foot off his chair.

“Nah, he does it to a lot of girls. He also does it to guys, but he’s straight and just wants to get a good grade.” She rolled her eyes before frowning. “Hey, Tory is dating him right? You should warn him about Ryder.” Kristen spoke one last time, vefore she turned around and left the auditorium.

If it weren’t for Beck holding her down, Jade would have grabbed her favorite pair of scissors and go to down on this asshole. She clenched and unclenches her fists, fury evident in her eyes.

Beck was not that far behind, he was BEYOND furious. Tory is one of the sweetest guys around, he treats everyone with care and helps whenever he could. He probably was the most of a gentleman in the entire school.

Warn him they would, afterwards? The couple were going to demolish Daniels.

(Skip time(

“He was using me?” Tory spoke softly, stating up at his friends. He sat on his couch, hands brought together intertwined. He fidgeted with his fingers. “No wonder, he wouldn’t even kiss me.” Hus voice broke, tears started to make its way out of his eyes.

Surprisingly, it was Jade who acted first. “Ryder Daniels is an asshole for missing out on a guy like you.” She got into a crouching position in front of the tearful Vega. “You are sweet, dorky, hell you are the cutest boy in this entire school! Beck and I have been in love with you ever since you came here!” She blurted out bluntly

Tory’s eyes widened staring at Jade. “Really?? I...I thought my feelings weren’t reciprocated.” He says softly, which made Beck act by kissing him.

Which was stopped by Jade pulling Beck away and kissing Tory. “We like you.” She mumbled against his lips. “You’re ours got it?” She questions getting up to her feet, giving Beck a kiss.

Tory immediately started nodding his head, all the while flustered.

“So, as much as I love this. And cat you owe Robbie and I ten dollars, how are we getting back at Ryder?” Andre spoke up placing his hands on the couch where his best friend was sat. A groan escaped Cat as she pulled her wallet out

“A song, a really cool song.” Tory got yo his feet, smiling at his new boyfriend and girlfriend. “Andre can you help me write it? Please?”

Andre, having nothing to do that night, sighed then nods his head. Determined to help his best friend. “Alright let’s do this!”

With that, they spent the night writing one of the coolest songs.

And when Full Moon Jam hit, Ryder got humiliated by being forced to watch Tory sing and dance about him. About being on his knees.

It didn’t help that Beck kept him there, every time he tried walking off. Beck and Robbie would just pull him back to watch.

“See ya, Ryder.” Trina yelled running up on stage. “Don’t mess with my brother.”

#Victor Vega #Tory x Beck x Jade #fuck ryder #possessive jade #possessive beck

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shealwaysreads · 4 years

Note

16 and 25 for the end of year asks please! 💙💙💙

Hello darling! Thanks for playing, and apologies for being...days late with my reply 😅❤️

16. fic(s) you completed this year

So, every fic I’ve ever written for the Harry Potter fandom has been done this year - and every single one has been a joy and a journey of learning.

Here they are - all 15 (FIFTEEN?!) of them!

Heaven’s Embroidered Cloths -

In which the Yule Ball opens Harry's eyes to beauty and splendour, and it takes him eight years to find someone who realises exactly what he wants. Magical fabric, solstice celebrations, and first kisses in borrowed clothes.

My first ever fic for Harry Potter, my first every drarry! Encouraged, aided and abetted, by @diligent-thunder @tepre and @bixgirl1 and our collective obsession for Wizarding clothes. Looking back I can see the flaws and my baby-foal fumbling with characterisation, but this was the beginning of my little fandom frolic (and ongoing kink obsession with their clothes) so I love it dearly!

Simple Little Kiss -

Harry slid his knife and fork together, and leaned back in his chair to watch Draco finish the last sip of wine in his glass, the long line of his neck exposed as he tipped his head back. Satisfaction and longing vied for the top spot in his mind. One appetite had been thoroughly sated; another was growling its hunger in his chest.

Prompted by the lovely @malenkayacherepakha this little ditty was based on: ‘One Small Kiss, Pulling Away For An Instant, Then Devouring Each Other’. Needless to say, that was right up my street 🙌

Those Who Favor Fire -

In which Harry and Draco ride out the effects of a potion, revealing every feeling that lies beneath.

My first ever Drabble for the monthly Drarry Discord Writers Corner Challenge - this server full of talented, creative, and encouraging folk has absolutely been pivotal in my swan dive into writing this year ❤️

Crow’s Feet - a gift for @erin-riwen - and a very self-indulgent one at that. I’m a sucker for love, and gentleness, and life well lived for my darling Harry and Draco and this was me just revelling in that!

Writing’s On The Wall -

In which the Auror department is surprisingly artistic, Draco is still an overdramatic shit, Harry still makes the most of any trouble that finds him, and getting horizontal is the solution to everyone's problems.

This is really showing up my terrible summary habits isn't it 👀 ANYWAY! This is another fic inspired by the fabulous drarry squad server - and my first attempt at being funny? (Also, Draco is fresh out the shower and if that isn't entirely on brand for me idk what is)

Honesty Is The Best Policy -

In which Auror partners Malfoy and Potter discover a trunk full of depraved tools, and Harry might have to explain himself.

Another Drabble for the Drarry Discord gang!

A Shorts Story About Love -

House-sharing with Slytherins, student life, magic weed, and short shorts. Harry's life at university might be strange, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

Entirely inspired by the lovely @rose-grangerweasleyisbae and her prompt over on the Drarry Discord. I had a ball writing this, it was one of those pics that just flowed, and I loved the little world I dreamed up - might even revisit it at some point...

Sunkissed -

Burnt toast, international Portkeys, ancient ruins, and Harry's own special brand of support.

Written for this years @hpdrizzle - my first ever fest fic, prompted by @maraudersaffair who I have to thank for igniting my lowkey head canon of freckled!Draco into a full blown writing brand™️ ❤️

Patient, Hungry, Waiting -

“Potter looked every inch the picture of the war hero that the Ministry loved to trot out for events like this, and nothing like he had on the day he actually did end the war. A decade of rising through the Auror ranks and hunting down dark Wizards, with all of the efficacy and subtlety of a natural disaster, had turned a skinny boy with knobbly knees into a strong, self-assured man who fairly commanded the room. He was resplendent in wine-dark robes, gold buttons and epaulettes, and a profusion of medals; a world away from the exhaustion, grime, and worn out jeans he wore during the Battle of Hogwarts. Draco, for one, approved of the changes.”

...

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy has learned the value of patience, the scintillation of delayed gratification, the thrill of waiting out his prey. Tonight, he's going to show Potter that good things come to those who wait.

A gift for my darling @tackytigerfic on her birthday, and one of my favourite fics of mine. As much as this was written to indulge her every whim, her tastes align so closely with mine this felt pretty damn self indulgent - can I say leather thigh wand-holster anyone? 😉

Pathless Woods -

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods” Lord Byron.

Harry finds himself unexpectedly reacquainted with Draco Malfoy when his work as an apprentice wandmaker takes him to Wiltshire. Amongst the trees Harry finds magic, growth, and a man who might finally be proving he’s worthy of the wand that chose him.

Hawthorn, Unicorn hair, 10 inches, reasonably pliant.

A story of found family, trees with feelings, belief in the power of growth, wandlore, and gratuitous description of Handsome Estate Owner™ Draco Malfoy swanning around in white shirts and leather boots.

Written for @hd-fan-fair and it’s my longest fic to date - a little out of my usual wheelhouse - it’s gentle, more of a tale than a rollicking ride, but I adored writing it, and love the way it turned out.

Logical - Inspired by this stunning art by @potter-art! I just couldn’t help myself, I was thirsty enough for Draco in leather to be one of the many to prompt her the outfit in question for drawing - and then the finished product was so GODDAMN hot I had to write poor Harry having to deal with it! ❤️🔥

No Absolutes - The first of my ‘I finished all my fest deadlines for the year prompt me Hozier songs for ficlets’ project (all of you who prompted, I promise I haven't forgotten, I’m working on them!)

This one is for @littlebozsheep who suggested Take Me to Church, and I had a lot of fun making this not-quite-poetry-not-quite-prose little baby of mine.

And my rarepair babies:

A Study In Contrasts -

In which Neville grew up hot, but still doesn't quite remember it all the time, and Theo is freckled, handsome, and likes plants. You know what happens next.

Okay so the lovely @drarryruinedme7 slid into my DMs and started talking HP rarepairs with me and when she started talking about Neville x Theo my eyes lit up and my writerly ears perked up - think excited meerkat, that's about how it felt.

After rummaging through the internet for their facecasts - see Neville and Theo (important research okay, the fact they're devastatingly gorgeous is neither here nor there) I had the delightful excuse of the @growing-neville fest to light a fire under my arse and write a fic, which I gifted to @drarryruinedme7!

All Our Strength, And All Our Sweetness -

In which Neville cooks, Theo is seriously into being manhandled, these two finally get each other naked, and it turns out they're compatible outside of the greenhouse too.

I was NOT DONE with these two! I still have lots of feelings about this little ‘verse I created and I will be playing with these delicious toys again soon 😉

Devil’s Snare -

In which some late night extra-curricular work in Greenhouse Nine turns into a whole new Herbology discovery for Neville Longbottom.

Did I ever see myself writing Neville x Devil’s Snare? No. Did I commit 100% once I decided to go for it? Yes. Do I entirely blame the kinky gang on the Drarry Discord? Also yes.

21. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

Gosh, okay Corie pick the hard questions why don’t you?! I have read so many incredible fics this year - let’s face it - every fic I’ve read is brilliant in it’s own way (and I’m thinking of doing a ‘this is what I read this year’ list to cover them all) but I’m going to try and nail it down to...5...okay so, 10. Alphabetical, cause these are all adored equally.

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (drarry)

All Bets Are Off by @dualwieldteacup (drarry)

Before the World Was Made by @13pawns (drarry)

Brick by Brick by agentmoppet (drarry)

Cupid Disarmed by @chromat1cs (wolfstar)

Offer Up Our Hearts by @tackytigerfic (drarry)

Trouble, My Old Friend by @tepre (drarry)

You Burn Me by @etalice (linny)

White As Snow by @bixgirl1 (drarry)

with exactness grinds he all by @thistle-verse (drarry)

I’m playing the Fanfic end of the year asks game!

❤️

#drarry #drarry fic rec #drarry squad #lovely people being lovely #coriesocks #ask me #fanfic ask meme #isobel talks #isobel writes #things to read #hp

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ramblingsrantsreviews · 4 years

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Season Review: 13 Reasons Why - Season 4 (Netflix, 2020)

Netflix’s dropped the final season of their controversial teen drama 13 Reasons Why last week and, as expected, it quickly climbed to the number one spot and was trending. Albeit the trending topic was full of just as many people saying “don’t watch the show” as there were fans talking about the show but that’s too be expected.

Inspired by the teen best selling novel by Jay Asher, 13 Reasons Why was adapted into a television series by Brian Yorkey in 2017 and has since spanned four seasons despite controversy from critics, parents, and teenagers. The fourth and final season of the series follow the same group of Liberty High teenagers, now seniors, as they grabble with the aftermath of their decision to frame a murder on a fellow Liberty High student who was sent to prison for sexual assault and ultimately died in prison. Each of the core cast is dealing with the aftermath in different ways with Clay (Dylan Minnette) experiencing the most negative reaction due in part to his deteriorating mental health.

In true 13 Reasons Why fashion, the season deals with a variety of topics ranging from the ongoing drug use of students, their safety in school, mental health, and it even touches upon the very timely topic of police brutality and racial profiling. And of course, it had to pull one last controversial publicity stunt which left one of our beloved characters dead before graduation day.

I’ve already written about my overall thoughts on the characters outcomes but I felt the final season also warranted its own review. In addition to the usual categories, I’ve also includes a spot for my favorite character and favorite couple of the entire season since this is the final season. Least favorite character of the series will not be featured because I don’t feel the need to write anything more about Bryce. I’m also going to try to keep the character portions short so that I don’t repeat myself.

As always, spoilers are ahead.

Favorite Episode: 4×09 — “Prom”

All I’ve ever wanted is for this group of teenagers to be happy and actually enjoy their youth instead of dealing with whatever shit was complicating their lives. Episode 9 finally gave that to us, if you ignore the last 3 minutes of the episode like I’m choosing to do.

This episode had some of my favorite scenes that left me crying tears of joy and had my heart swelling with pride. It was also the first time, in a long time, that we saw the entire group back together in Clay and Justin’s bedroom. I’ve always said this show is best when it’s characters are all united and share the screen together and that scene proved I was right. If only they would have supported each other from the beginning of this season instead of just at the end.

Episode 9 is also home to both Charlie and Alex’s coming out moments and they could not have been more perfect. I absolutely love that both of their families were accepting and didn’t even question their sons. Charlie’s scene with his dad literally had me laughing out loud when they were talking about Charlie’s obsession with Eli Manning. It’s such an innocent thing and yet it showcases that LGBT kids and teens are just like their heterosexual counterparts who have innocent crushes on celebrities and athletes. I also love that his dad basically said he knew but wanted Charlie to come to him when he was ready.

Alex’s coming out moment was equally as cute. I really loved the fact that his wasn’t a coming-out moment in the traditional sense because he didn’t sit his parents down and talk to them about his sexuality. Instead, he just shows up with Charlie who he introduces as his boyfriend. It was perfect and honestly, I think more shows and films should deal with coming-out stories that happen like this. I was once again laughing when Alex’s brother got all excited because he was dating the quarterback of the Liberty High football team. Plus, the heartfelt moment with both of his parents warmed my heart. All they’ve ever wanted for their son is to see him happy and healthy and they finally got that.

I loved Charlie’s promposals and how he kept trying to one-up them to get Alex to say yes. I’m wondering though if maybe he should have tried something more low-key and intimate since that seems to be more of Alex’s style. Either way, they were all cute and I’m glad Alex finally said yes. Also, I love that they finally realized that Jess didn’t need a boy on her arm to have a good time. Having her go with Ani was cute and felt a bit full circle since the only ever girlfriend she had was Hannah who she had a falling out with before her death. And I also love that Clay tagged along with Alex and Charlie to make sure Alex was comfortable. He’s always looking out. Honorable cute mentions also go to Caleb for finally getting Tony to participate in high school activities and Tyler for going with Estella and having the best time ever.

Of course, the prom scene as a whole was amazing (again, until the last 3 minutes which I will not be mentioning again…hopefully). Seeing these kids get to be teenagers warmed my heart and it was everything I ever wanted. I loved that the football team was behind Charlie and Alex winning Prom Kings. It really showed a growth in the team since they’d been homophobic and rapists in prior seasons but have finally started to mature and “be better” as Zach and later Charlie helped instill in them. I also love that Ani and Clay finally hashed out their weird relationship and that they were able to move on as friends.

I was so glad when Justin showed up at the prom. He deserved to have a great time and enjoy his dwindling senior year just like the rest of his friends. I love how they show the scene when Jess spots him in this cinematic and romantic way. Was it cheesy? Yes, but dammit these two deserve all the cheesiness after everything they’ve been through. I also love Jess’s line telling him to never love anything more than life. It was perfect and everything I wanted.

Oh, and Clay asking his mom to dance was equally as adorable.

The only thing I felt this episode needed (other than a different ending) was the inclusion of “The Night We Met.” That song is a staple of this series and it would have been nice to have it played at their final dance. Perhaps, they could have all come together on the dance floor like they did in season 2 for Clay.

Least Favorite Episode: 4×03 — “Valentine’s Day”

To be honest, the whole first half of the season was a hot mess but I think my least favorite episode had to be the third episode. I literally almost stopped watching after it because it no longer felt like I was watching 13 Reasons Why.

I found it to be an interesting choice by the writers to write another episode centered around a dance when we were going to get a prom episode and have had multiple dance centric episodes in prior seasons. I think it would have been more interesting if they set the drama somewhere else. Then again, dances seem to be the only way to get all these characters in one place at the same time so I digress.

My biggest issue with this episode was the whole plot surrounding Clay and the mysterious phone calls. I felt like I was watching a cheap knock off of Scream every time Clay answered the phone and was tormented by the caller. Of all the dumb things this show has done, this was the dumbest and completely unnecessary. After all, Clay had been cleared from being a person-of-interest in Bryce’s murder before Ani’s confession that Monty was the one who did it. Therefor, the football teams motive for taking their anger and emotions for Monty out on Clay made zero sense. Not to mention, they did it in the most unoriginal way ever.

This episode also featured Winston and Alex getting closer and dating. Look, I believe most characters can change and be good people but Winston doesn’t seem to be one of those people. Granted, Alex didn’t know who he was or his involvement with Monty at the time but we did which made it hard for me to root for these two. Winston may have actually had feelings for Alex, but to me he was just using him to get information and that is totally not cool.

I also greatly disliked Clay and Ani in this episode. It’s clear that their relationship has run its course and Ani’s constant need to keep pushing Clay to be with her was dumb. Ani is such a smart character and yet she does the stupidest things. She definitely needed one of Jess’s woman empowerment speeches.

Also I absolutely hated Zach yelling at Justin and then Jess yelling at Justin — even if she was right to do so.

By far the worst thing about this episode had to be the ending sequence with Clay in the shower and then on the football field. Of course, the episode then ended with him walking into the gym with a red stained shirt holding a knife. Definitely not a good image for Clay but what really killed me is that everyone blamed him for brining a knife to the dance when Diego and his boys literally planted it for him to take! Once again 13 Reasons Why forgets its own plot for more drama.

Favorite Character This Season: Charlie St. George

While Charlie might not be my all-time favorite character, he definitely earned the prize of being my favorite character this season.

Charlie was the one character this season who was actually there for everyone around him and wasn’t consumed with his own issues. In fact, Charlie is so selfless that he chose to get involved with all their drama last season when he didn’t need to but did anyway because he knew it was the right thing to do.

As for this season, well Charlie continued to out do himself. He helped Justin hold the football team accountable when they were being dicks. He made sure Jess was getting the team’s undivided attention during her speech. He tried to help Tony decide on what to do about Tyler’s gun pictures during the lockdown and he even calmed Alex down during one of his anxiety attacks. Not to mention, he researched Alex’s TBI so that he’d know what to expect and how to handle any issues that may arise from it. His helpfulness didn’t stop there. He also tried to be there for Clay and for Justin during the season. And he even went as far as tracking down Zach and forcing him to go see Justin in the hospital when he was dying.

If all that doesn’t prove that he’s the best character than I don’t know what will.

He also had the best coming-out moment and literally ruled the prom with Alex as his date.

So yeah, Charlie was the best.

Favorite Character Of The Series: Justin Foley

Since this is the final season, I also wanted to speak about my favorite character of the entire show: Justin Foley. If you read my other post this should come as no surprise that Justin is my ride-or-die character.

Justin is my favorite character because he has one of the best character arcs of the entire series (if you ignore the final episode and is horrible fate). In the first season he was this angry and broken kid who was so distraught with guilt that he turned to the streets for some kind of relief and eventual revenge. Thankfully, Clay and Tony were there to save him and the Jenson’s were kind enough to offer him a home when he had no where else to turn.

Sure, Justin still struggled with his addiction but he tried and fought so damn hard to get better. Relapse is part of the recovery process and if you recall, most of the times Justin relapsed were do in part to major things happening in his life, like his biological mother’s overdose which lead to her death.

Despite all the things against him, Justin finally got help this season and was on the path to recovery. He was thriving in school, had a college acceptance letter in his hands, and was finally happy. All Justin ever wanted to do was live and he constantly tried to do that.

As you know from my character thoughts post, I was completely devastated when he died. It’s been a week and I’m still not over it. I honestly feel like I lost someone I knew in real life.

Despite his ill fitted and unnecessary ending, Justin Foley had the best character development of this group. He was the one character who deserved to live more than anything. In my head, he’s alive and thriving in college while having regular FaceTime dates with Jess.

Least Favorite Character This Season: Winston

Avoiding the obvious answers like Bryce and Monty, who I hate with my entire being, I’ve decided that Winston is my least favorite character of season 4.

I mentioned this in my other post but I’m going to say it again, Winston is nothing more than a knock-off Clay who doesn’t have half the heart that Clay Jenson has.

I can’t get behind Winston because his entire character is rooted in being a rapist apologist because he “loved” Monty. Obviously, I don’t think Winston is a terrible person but I do think something is wrong with him since he is able to have feelings for Monty despite knowing all the terrible and hurtful things he did to people. I mean Mrs. Walker couldn’t look her own son in the eyes after learning everything he did and you’re telling me that Monty can turn a blind eye to it because he’s in love. I call bullshit.

I didn’t feel like Winston’s actions this season were rooted in good like Clay’s were. I think every relationship he formed with the core group was made because he wanted to get information out of them.

The only good thing Winston did was not turn Alex in for killing Bryce. In my opinion, though, that doesn’t redeem him for spending the entire season trying to seek revenge for Monty.

Favorite Couple This Season: Alex and Charlie

Let’s be honest, 13 Reasons Why doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships. Even the most iconic and shippable couples on the show are problematic. Which is why I was so shocked and proud when the writers finally decided to show a happy and healthy relationship, between two boys to top it all off!

While I’ll admit, I had been hoping that Alex would end up with Zach this season I am 110% sold that he was destined to be with Charlie. As I’ve said before and in this very post, Charlie is so caring and attentive to Alex that you can tell his feelings are completely authentic and he has no ulterior motive for wanting/choosing to be with Alex.

In fact, if you watch the third season carefully, you’ll notice that Charlie had taken an interest in Alex during that season. It just wasn’t as prominent on the screen. Perhaps, that’s part of the reason Charlie decided to get involved with this group. And once he found out Alex was the one who needed saving he jumped into action to plant Bryce’s tape on Monty. But that might be my brain stretching.

Regardless, Charlie and Alex are the perfect teenage couple and the by far the healthiest couple of this entire show. They’re there for each other, they celebrate each other’s victories (even if Alex doesn’t always understand them) and their love is unconditional.

These two may be Prom Kings but they’re also Kings of healthy relationships.

Favorite Couple Of The Series: Justin and Jess

Even though Alex and Charlie are the healthiest couple and by far my favorite this season, I can’t help but continue to ship Jess and Justin.

Now listen, these two are not a couple that should be idolized. They’re extremely toxic at times and they are way too dependent on each other. Not to mention, the origins of their relationship are complex and for some, immensely problematic. And yet, here I am stanning this couple because they’re so made for each other.

Part of what makes Justin and Jess work is that they understand each other, even when they don’t always want to. They both have been in each others shows. They both know what it’s like to be at rock bottom and to climb out on top. Beyond that, they’re (usually) always there for each other or at least are cheering each other on in some way.

Was Jess wrong this season to lash out as Justin when he told her he needed to focus on herself? Absolutely. But Justin was also in the wrong a few seasons ago when he didn’t fight to help Jess enough. Regardless of their issues and arguments, these two are always finding their way back to each other.

I loved that Justin went to Jess’s aide during the lockdown. Sure, it took Diego being an ass to get him there but I’m pretty sure he would have went regardless. Frankly I’m convinced that Justin was texting Jess during the lockdown before he even went down to see her. And, despite everything going on, in that moment they felt safe, because they were together.

I love that Justin, even though he was jealous of Diego, never really made it an issue — or at least, a major issue. When Zach is trying to rile him up at the Valentine’s Day dance Justin reminds him that Jess doesn’t belong to him. It’s the smallest thing but it a sign that he loves and respects Jess enough to let her be on her own. In fact, I’d argue that the real issue he has with Jess seeing Diego is that Diego is a complete dick to Clay and is obsessed with finding out the truth about Monty.

I love that Jess is (almost) always there for Justin. Should she have pulled him out of the alleyway when she finds him doing drugs again? Absolutely, but I think her choosing to walk away was an extremely hard decision for her to make. And I’m glad their story didn’t end there. I absolutely loved Jess’s speech to Justin at the prom. And the scene of them in the hospital completely wrecked me. Hearing Jess say that Justin taught her to love when he was still convinced he ruined her life was seriously the most heartbreaking thing ever.

As I said, I’m pretending these two are living a happy and healthy life because that’s what they deserve.

Complaints:

13 Reasons Why is strongest when the cast is together and supporting each other. Unfortunately this season everything felt disjointed, especially these characters relationships with each other. Alex and Jess had barely any scenes together despite committing a murder together. Zach was messy the entire season and acting very out of character. And no one cared enough to help him. Alex did try but it didn’t feel like enough, or maybe Zach was just too stubborn to accept it. The golden trio (Clay, Justin, and Jess) had little to no scenes until the end which hurt me to my core. I felt like Justin was missing from the first half of the season and then when he did get more time on screen he was literally dying. Clay and Tony barely had any scenes together and seemed annoyed with each other. Tyler was basically on his own this season – at least he had Estella. I guess I had higher hopes that our core group would be stronger than ever but that simply wasn’t the case and I’m upset about it.

My other major problem this season was the show’s need to try to be a psychological thriller. I fully support them wanting to show Clay’s deteriorating mental state and I found it interesting that they chose to go the disassociating route but I am not a fan of how they did it. I felt like the writers forgot the genre of their show. As I mentioned above, I also hated the football team using their phones to torment Clay. It was stupid and unoriginal.

Another issue I had this season was the fact that both Ani and Zach out Alex to different people. In Ani’s case she outed Alex to Clay by confessing that she caught him making out with Winston in the hallway during the dance. As for Zach, he outed Alex to almost all of their friends during the senior camping trip after learning that Alex broke up with Winston. While neither of them outed Alex with malicious intent, it was still wrong. I would have liked to see Alex confront them about it, at some point.

I absolutely hated and was disgusted at the fact the show tried to portray both Clay and Zach as people who would rape unconscious women who were unable to consent. I will never forgive the writers for that. It literally served no purpose and completely went again both of their characters.

I also found it extremely random and unneccesary that Clay hooks up with Valerie, Sheriff Diaz’s daughter, at that party. I don’t care that he hooked up with someone but because it was the daughter of the Sheriff I wanted that to be a bigger moment. I was waiting and expecting Sheriff Diaz to find out and flip out on Clay but that never happened. As it stands now, the only purpose that scene had was to inform us that Sheriff Diaz did have a family which would make his speech to Alex’s dad at the end of the season make sense.

I also wasn’t a fan of Monty and Bryce’s presence this season. Both of them already got their moments in the spotlight we didn’t need to see them again. They were monsters who don’t deserve any sort of redemption or yet another attempt of a redemption arc. I also found it extremely peculiar that Clay was the one that was seeing them. As I’ve said before, Clay wasn’t the one who came up with the idea to frame Monty so I wasn’t totally sure why he felt so guilty. I also hated that they gave Jess another scene with ghost Bryce at the end instead of having her see ghost Justin. If anyone deserved to be in that final scene where they’re burying Hannah’s tapes it was Justin. After all, he’s where the story began.

Speaking of the final scene, I felt it odd that they decided to bring Courtney and Ryan back. If they were going to reunite the entire tape crew where were Marcus and Sheri? Even though they weren’t prominent in the episode I felt their screen time could have been given to one of the other core characters instead.

Another minor thing, I missed the smooth transitions in and out of scenes that 13 Reasons Why always seemed to nail. I know they were mainly used when the story was switching from past and present but I truly missed them this season. Everything felt harsh and jagged and I wasn’t a fan.

Lastly, and this one is going to be obvious. I hated that they killed Justin. There was no reason for his death. There was no hint that he was the one who was going to die. It was unnecessary and a last ditch attempt to be controversial and shocking. I’m not over it and I’ll never be over it.

Praise:

Most of the things I’m going to write here I’ve said elsewhere so I apologize for any repetition.

As I said above, one of my favorite things about this season was Alex and Charlie’s coming out scenes. Something I have yet to mention though, is that I love how Alex turned to Tony when he was still in the midst of questioning his sexuality. It was a really sweet moment and it showcased Tony and Alex’s friendship. I also love that Tony answered the question without questing Alex on why he was asking. Tony could have asked Alex if he was questioning his sexual identity or something else but he chose not to because it’s not his place.

Speaking of Tony, I adored the scene with his father when Caleb told him about Tony’s college opportunity. Tony was so adamant on turning it down because he wanted to keep the auto shop going and to hear his father tell him that Tony is his dream was heartwarming. I think we all knew that his father just wants what is best for Tony but to hear him say it was important.

I did like the scene where the tape crew was reunited. It felt very full circle but I think they should have burned the tapes instead of burying them. I swear to god, if in 10 years this show gets a reboot because someone finds the tapes I’m going to die. I was a bit confused though since it didn’t appear that all the tapes were in the box. And I still think Justin should have been a part of it in some way. After all, he was the start of the tapes. Bryce may have brought them all together in a twisted way, but without Justin they wouldn’t have existed either.

Everything considered, I’m glad we did get to see Jess and Justin together in the end. To me they are endgame — even though Diego tries to get Jess to date him right after Justin’s death. I’ll cherish the prom scene and even the scenes in the hospital forever.

Also regarding Justin’s fate, I loved his final scene with Clay. The series spends so much time trying to get us to believe that Justin found a brother in Bryce, but I never bought it. Justin’s only brother was Clay and that essay proved that. It was so heartfelt and sad and I loved it. I also love that Clay admits to Justin that he doesn’t know how to go on without him but Justin assures him that he does.

I also did like the ending scene with Clay and Tony, even though in my perfect world it was Clay and Justin driving off to college together. It was a nice full circle moment. Although, I will admit my anxiety was through the roof because I seriously thought they were going to get into an accident. After all, it is 13 Reasons Why.

Lastly, I want to discuss the final scene at the police station between Alex’s dad and Sheriff Diaz. I spent a lot of this season and last season hating Sheriff Diaz but he certainly redeemed himself in that moment. There’s no doubt in my mind that he realized that Alex was the one who killed Bryce. And yet, he understood that Alex is a good kid who doesn’t deserve to be in jail. He understood that Bryce and Monty were both monsters. He knew that if the truth got out Alex’s dad would fall apart. His speech about putting family before his job was important and impactful.

As I’ve said, of all the shitty things this show has done the one thing they actually got right was letting Alex walk free. I never would have forgiven them if they had sent Alex to jail. After all, he’s not a monster he’s the hero of the story.

* * *

I still have mixed feelings about the final season and I think I will for the rest of time. Had they not have killed Justin I feel like I would have felt a lot better about the conclusion of the show. But if 13 Reasons Why has taught me anything its that life is not fair and that we cannot let tragedy dictate our entire lives. We must live (and continue watching questionable television shows).

You can stream the final season of 13 Reasons Why on Netflix.

What did you think of the final season of 13 Reasons Why? What was your favorite and least favorite episode? Who do you ship? Are you happy with the ending? Let me know in the comments or by tweeting me @3RsBlog.

Featured Image Source: Netflix

#13 reasons why #13rw #clay jenson #Justin Foley #jessica davis #Alex Standall #charlie st. george #reviews #review

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Cold Feet (Alternate Version)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After receiving a letter from an old flame just days away from her wedding, Reader wonders if she should call it all off. —Inspired by the song Cold Feet by Tenille Arts Category: Angst (unhappy ending) Content Warnings: An almost kiss that isn’t with Reader’s fiancé Word Count: 1.8k

Read the other version of Cold Feet here!

MASTERLIST

***

She should be happily wrapped in a dream, Safe in a warm bed and sound asleep. So why is she walking back home From a long night down by the creek, With cold feet?

Y/N is currently finding it difficult to breathe.

But now? She was questioning everything.

She still felt the thin paper in her hands, even with its folded body currently tucked away in an old book she knew was never going to be opened again- a gift from the man who'd written the letter in the first place.

The first time she read it, her heart sank. And by the third time she'd read it, her heart soared.

And then her fiancé walked in, asked her about what to make for dinner, and her heart sank all over again.

Honestly, damn him for choosing now to finally confess. Damn him for making her question everything, after she'd finally moved on and found someone who would always be around.

But then again, she'd ended up choosing to live in a house in their hometown, just blocks away from that creek he'd mentioned in his letter. So... Maybe she hadn't moved on entirely

She hated that she even had to think about it.

Her fiancé helped her do that, though. Day by day he taught her to love again, to trust in somebody again, and he was truly a good man.

So why was it absolutely destroying her, thinking of getting married to him when there was someone else in the picture to think about? Someone who'd had a hold on her for well over fifteen years?

Again, she hated that she even had to think about it.

But she wasn't about to get married with all these conflicting thoughts, so whether she wanted to or not, her only real option was the one that would also be the hardest on her tattered heart.

She'd sent him a text message this morning that read, Midnight, and tucked her phone away for the rest of the day, drowning herself in mindless work and looking to keep time moving forward.

Now, she struggles to breathe as she makes her way down to the creek.

It's cold, having just rained fifteen minutes prior, and she wraps her fiancé's cardigan tightly over her her arms, searching for warmth and comfort. She would have settled for one of her own, heavier pieces, but in some strange way she thought maybe having something there that belonged to her fiancée would ground her, something to remind her of the gravity of the situation at hand.

She's just as nervous as her feet take baby steps towards him. Meanwhile she's hugging her fiancée's cardigan around her body tighter than before. "Hi..."

"I... I can't believe you actually wanted to meet. Truthfully I thought I wouldn't hear back from you."

"Well... Your letter kind of rattled me... You rattled me. I guess I just had to know..."

There's a long pause before he takes a small step towards her and tilts his head. His words are hesitant, like he thinks she might say something he doesn't want to hear. "And... What do you know?"

"I know that I love my fiancé. After you, I didn't really think I'd ever love anyone the same way again, but... He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I... I can't just discard that feeling because you decided too late that you still love me. You know?"

"I do, Y/N, I really do," he answers earnestly, and this time his hand reaches out to grab hers. "But... I mean, you showed up here, didn't you? That has to count for something..."

Nonetheless, she sits with him for hours, listening to him explain... Giving him a chance. He apologizes for the past, he promises to do better in the future, and in between he makes her laugh. Their hands brush, their breaths mingle as they huddle from the cold, and with every passing minute, the cardigan on her shoulders becomes looser and more forgotten.

Slowly but surely, he's lowering her defenses and gaining her trust. He's showing her bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with until they're laughing at close to 3am.

And then, for a moment, it's quiet. Absolutely quiet, save for the crickets and the soft rolling of the creek behind them.

Y/N almost lets him kiss her then.

But then her heart hammers in her chest, and not in a good way. Suddenly, she's imagining the pure heartbreak that would surely manifest on her fiancé's face if he found out- if she really decided to leave him for this old flame that had barely started to kindle once again years later.

She has to be absolutely certain of her decision.

So she pulls back and wraps her fiancé's cardigan tightly around her arms. "I should go home."

There's disappointment in his eyes, and it twists her gut a little. "Right... Um... I-I can take you back, if you want."

"No, I, uh... I think I'm gonna walk. I have to think."

Y/N avoids his gaze just quickly enough that she doesn't see the disappointment in his eyes fizzle into a tiny sliver of hope.

Rain on the sidewalk, doubt in her mind. One thing's for sure, she's running out of time To decide what's right, And who's heart she's willing to break.

When she wakes up the next morning, she'd somehow ended up facing him anyway. He's staring at her with adoring eyes, and under his gaze she can't help the guilt that washes over her.

"Quit looking at me like that..."

Her words are grumbly and soft because of having just woken up, and because her face is half hidden behind blankets and his cardigan, her fiancé doesn't know anything is wrong.

Instead, he laughs. "What, you're beautiful... And before you start arguing with me, yes, you're even beautiful when you wake up."

She only grumbles, feeling anything but.

It's quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. "You're wearing my cardigan..."

Peeking her eyes out from the mountain of fabric, she can see the enchantment in his eyes and it makes her warm. "I was cold..."

While true, she mostly means I had cold feet.

"Come here."

"There," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You feel warmer yet?"

"Mhm..." She sighs into his skin and then takes in a deep breath.

He smells like home.

He feels like home.

And as he starts softly humming her favorite song, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he holds her close, Y/N wonders why she'd ever doubted her love for him.

He is home.

Spencer never was— he was almost always gone.

Letting him go is hard given their past; The good in their relationship was really good, but... it wasn’t enough. It isn't enough for Y/N to leave behind this new, pure love that had reopened parts of her soul she hadn't realized could be repaired after Spencer.

While James makes coffee in the kitchen, Y/N wanders to the bookshelf, gently removing Spencer's gift from the dark wood and swiping her hand over the bound leather exterior. The letter enclosed inside, handwriting that matches an inscription on the front inside cover of the book, beats softly like a heart.

Later that day, as she makes her way five towns over, that heartbeat slowly diminishes— until, finally, she drops it off at the local bookstore for donation, and it stops beating altogether.

And Spencer, somehow, can feel it. He feels it deep in his bones, that she'd given up on them— on him.

He feels the beating of his heart slow down day after day, so quiet and barely tangible, that once the day of her wedding finally arrives, it shatters altogether.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanficiton #criminal minds angst

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thesinglesjukebox · 4 years

Video

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LADY GAGA - STUPID LOVE

[6.42]

Far from "Shallow" now...

Brad Shoup: Thudding sixteenths and vocal chop straight out of a Todd Edwards remix... it's always great when she visits. [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: It must be exhausting to be Lady Gaga. Here's a short list of her accomplishments since 2013's ARTPOP: winning a Grammy for a jazz duets album, winning a Golden Globe for her role in American Horror Story, headlining the Super Bowl, co-hosting arguably the best Met Gala in years, winning an Oscar for A Star is Born, getting a number one Billboard single from the soundtrack, launching a vegan make-up line, and starring in a Las Vegas residency. And yet, the dominant critical narrative has still essentially been: Gaga is absent from pop music. (For comparison, Katy Perry has been a judge on American Idol.) Of course, her self-mythologizing is partially to blame for this, but it's unclear what could have possibly satisfied her critics and die-hard fans outside of re-reinventing music à la 2010. So what's her move given the weight of the world's impossible expectations? To make simple, unpretentious pop music on her own terms. In a recent Billboard interview, she laughed while stating, "I would like to put out music that a big chunk of the world will hear, and it will become a part of their daily lives, and make them happy every single day." My first reaction upon reading this was: yes, we should hold Gaga to a higher standard because she's Gaga, but how can we balance that with the potentially damaging effects for her mental health and sanity? So on "Stupid Love" when she sings, "Now it's time to free me from this chain/I gotta find that peace, is it too late?" I like to hope it's meta-commentary on her rediscovering the joy in her music and being, free of expectation. Gaga tracks are often described as "huge" or "epic", but none has ever so perfectly embodied "fun." I'm definitely excited about how this track sounds -- an ebullient return to her earliest disco pop roots, at a time when radio is dominated by trap -- but "Stupid Love" stands out to me because of her embrace of radical self-love. This is the Gaga that I've always loved -- and she's always been enough. [9]

Leah Isobel: The production filters back an entire decade's worth of Stefani's influence into a three-minute Fruit Gusher burst of tang, but the lyrics are decidedly forward-looking, all declarative statements of "now is the time!" bullshit. In the middle of this past/present/future time-play, as the beat drops out beneath her, she asserts the key line: "all I ever wanted was lahv." If it's a disappointingly shallow retcon for an artist whose initial breadth and ambition was the entire point, the promise of it lingers in my brain. After all, it's not too far from a similar pop megalomaniac realizing that she "traded fame for love without a second thought" about 20 years ago. That rich vein of popstar self-examination writ large is so suited to Gaga's talents as an artist -- a provocateur, fake-deep philosopher, musical theatre nerd, and hook-writing master all at once -- that I have listened to this song five times in a row pretty much every single day since it, uh, appeared on the internet. My paws are reluctantly up, Stef. Don't fuck it up. [7]

Jessica Doyle: Fun, and otherwise unremarkable. If you've been a Gaga fan for a while -- if you're invested in the narrative of this hardworking woman, who has been through downs and ups and downs and then ups again -- I imagine the fun is enhanced by a certain comfort and relief in seeing her have fun; in imagining her feeling strong and secure enough to release a fun song that doesn't have to upend anything. But I am a heartless, acontextual consumer, for whom the marginal cost of listening to something else is zero, and I miss "Bad Romance." [5]

Tobi Tella: For an artist who at her peak overstuffed everything with too many ideas, there's really not much happening here. It's loud and upbeat, sure, but the lyrics are barely the thread of a coherent song, and the production reminds everyone who wants "pure" pop to come back to be careful what they wish for. Maybe that A Star is Born "pop music bad guitar music good" cynicism rubbed off too much? [4]

Katherine St Asaph: Just when I thought Gaga was lost to the land of Real Music™, or worse, flailing attempts to be chill by the least chill performer in pop music (yes, including Taylor Swift), she goes and releases this, 50,000 firecrackers on a Eurovision stage. The thicket of hooks is packed, with Black Midi levels of referential density. The whole thing sounds like "Born This Way," which is to say it sounds like "Express Yourself"; there's a juddering sequencer out of "Do What U Want" (reminds me more of "Weekend" by Class Actress, but which is more likely to be the actual inspiration?) and a touch of, of all things, September's "Cry For You." Gaga fills every crevice of the song with singing, throaty and belty and huge: a relief after years of songs filled only with half-assed #vibes. If it feels frivolous against much of Born This Way and The Fame Monster and some of Artpop, and far less ambitious, it at least pulls her out of the "Shallow" piano muck. [7]

Vikram Joseph: Perhaps a stupid song about making stupid choices is the Lady Gaga lead single we both need and deserve in 2020. The battering-ram synths feel like running down a hill into a gale-force wind; the best thing about "Stupid Love" is that Gaga sounds like she's having a lot of fun, and by extension so are we. [7]

Alex Clifton: "Stupid Love," much like "Born This Way" before it, is ready-made for pride parades, grown from the same mystical lab that gave Lady Gaga her incredible melodic sensibilities. Unlike its predecessor, though, it has more euphoria in it, presumably because it's not making a political point. Gaga's more focused on having fun here, and you can tell. The verses aren't my favourite, but the chorus hits as an overwhelming rush of dopamine, and now I can't stop dancing in my computer chair. Between this and Dua Lipa's album, we're in for a hell of a good time for pop music this spring, and I am extremely excited. [7]

Thomas Inskeep: She was doing this better a decade ago. A lot better. [2]

Joshua Lu: The narrative surrounding "Stupid Love" regards it a return to the Pop Gaga that's been mostly absent since 2013: A revival if you're a fan, a regression if you're not. The issue with this narrative is that "Stupid Love" lacks any key similarities to the Gaga of yesteryear; the only real sonic link is how the bassline brings to mind the since-redacted "Do What U Want" beat. Instead we have something that's somehow not a Kygo song, with vocal chirps that got old last year, serviceable but clichéd hooks (the entire pre-chorus has all the charm of a Taio Cruz album track), remarkably basic lyrics filled with platitudes, and a title that has no bearing on anything in the song -- there's nothing lyrically or aurally stupid about anything here, and Gaga has shown a deep capacity to be stupid in her past pop works. In reality, what we have here isn't a return to anything, but rather the continued flagging of Gaga's desire to develop genuinely off-beat or interesting pop music, whether intentional or not. Gaga's talents as a vocalist elevate the song beyond the usual pop pap, but it's not nearly at the level I once hoped she could remain at. [6]

Alfred Soto: Kudos to Jamieson Cox for catching an obvious forebear: the rattling sequencer recalls 2013's forgotten "Do What U Want," which was all set to do some business until radio programmers remembered R. Kelly had been a menace for years. Amiably confusing lack of affect with simplicity, "Stupid Love" flexes its pop strength with the expectation that fans will admire it. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The synths pack a punch but they never quite get me to where I should be. I wanna feel desperation, exasperation -- that love is worth looking stupid for. All I get is a familiar, quasi-stoic performance that sounds like Gaga's doing some excellent karaoke. [4]

Kayla Beardslee: Sure, it's competent, but Gaga is capable of so much more. Many other blurbs will discuss the song's aggressive datedness and bland lyrics, but what really bothers me is that the two halves of "Stupid Love" -- the dramatic vocals and the unrelenting gallop of the synths -- don't fit together. Gaga is giving her all with those signature "laahv"s, but there's just not enough empty space left for her in the production. Her performance ends up laying flat on top of the track, adding nothing except a sense of laziness from her producers and engineers. [5]

Pedro João Santos: Serviceable Max Martin bopathon scams its way into my brain again -- no matter how direly in need of an incubator this whole structure is. Gaga's weakest lead single feeds you Kygo, threatens to ascend during "All I ever wanted was love", and still can't fight the aura of afterthought. [6]

Jibril Yassin: "Stupid Love" is a giddy rush of EDM-pop fun, but it's the first time experiencing a major Gaga single entirely devoid of surprises. Bracing yourself for a twist that never arrives or a strange turn of vocals rearing its head from nowhere, "Stupid Love" makes up for its unremarkableness with a masterclass in songwriting. What Lady Gaga hasn't forgotten how to do is translate the feeling of having your initial gut feelings completely validated. "Stupid Love" makes its magic in casting the act of love as necessary and dare I say it -- radical. [7]

Jackie Powell: On "Stupid Love" Lady Gaga achieved a corollary. By trying to put her healing process into simple poetry, she also created an accompanying sound that's comparable to an analgesic. The function of the track is to heal and liberate. (Truth be told, Little Monster or not, the song has helped me get out of bed in the morning.) Gaga's latest cut is packaged into a familiar formula, and that's part of the reason why this track serves as a formidable lead single and symbol for the upcoming Chromatica. The equation is one that mirrors the "best of" Stefani Germanotta. What's brilliant about "Stupid Love" is that its visual and lyrical messaging and surrounding sonic arrangement and melody bring what Little Monsters and casual music fans with a Gaga fascination expect. And that's okay. She has told Oprah that her goal now isn't just to shock people but rather to exude authenticity. She stirs elements from all of her pop eras into the most hearty and flavourful version of Gaga soup (and that does include Joanne contrary to popular belief.) Each ingredient works and is soluble. She tossed in the elements of the The Fame that made fans want to Just Dance and sprinkled some catchy Swedish-sounding pop melodies (Max Martin, hello!) and sung onomatopoeia from The Fame Monster, à la the "hey-ah, hey-ahs." A suspenseful build, uniquely potent and soaring vocals are ounces of Born This Way. Don't worry, ARTPOP is doused on this track not only in color, but in sound. There's a reason why that sped up "Do What U Want"-esque bassline works. There's a contrast between her bright vocal performance and the electronic bass' darkness. Joanne comes across in the allegorical concept which once again can be interpreted to reflect the current American experience. Music video director Daniel Askill confirmed that Gaga wanted to portray the "warring tribes as a metaphor for the state of the world today." So, Mother Monster is on a mission to introduce the world to her new brainchild, ever-developing ideologies and honest ways to examine life. "Stupid Love" isn't the end-all but merely the beginning. Paws up and welcome to Chromatica bitches. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: NOPE! WAIT. wait. This is actually a welcome back for... the bass, who is joined by his drumming sister, his synth bros and Lady Gaga, who has come here from the Make A Wish Foundation to take him around New York. They have a wonderful day together, with the synth bros getting their percussive background vocal girlfriend an NYPD hoodie, and the experience convinces Lady Gaga to make bright, happy pop music again! (The bass, in the midst of a happy dance, got hit by her limo and had to go back to the hospital.) [8]

Scott Mildenhall: Between its hyperventilating over-excitement and ever-exciting hyper-sincerity, Gaga seems to have finally created a pop emergency. The false alarm of "Applause" was overstuffed and underpowered, but "Stupid Love" redresses that balance by going harder and clearer, like a newly thawed cut from a cryogenically frozen, course-correcting Artpop Monster edition. Time might seem to have turned in on itself, but no: the greater lyrical directness arrives in a way that feels culminatory. The plainspokenness of that indelible "all I ever wanted was love" makes it almost an epitaph, grounding it in a present in which all experience has been lived, and all realisations are realised. Undeniably, Lady Gaga is not dead, but this is what she knows. [8]

Will Adams: I defended "The Cure" and lamented the immense pressure on Gaga to make every release the Next Big Thing, however even that soured when it turned out to be part of A Star Is Born's ~superficial pop~ world. So where to next, when she's caught between turgid rock balladry and ill-fitting trop-pop? On "Stupid Love," we get the best possible outcome: whizzing past Joanne, making a brief stop at Artpop but ultimately landing on the dazzling excess of Born This Way. Like any good synthpop number, the synths display a wide range of textures: they tunnel, they drill, they poof, they gleam. Gaga is more than willing to match their energy. Noteworthy, though, is that she takes a brief pause only on the pre-chorus's "all I ever wanted was love"; even the way the title scans it almost sounds like she could be singing "I want just to be loved." This is the essence of pop: amidst the big dumb fireworks display, a human message at the core. [7]

#Lady Gaga #pop #music #music review

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skamamoroma · 5 years

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La Grotta/The Little Cave - Thoughts

Oooooook. So this beautiful beautiful beautiful clip. My goodness. Where do you even start?

I think the only way to start any chat about this clip is to get rid of ANY notion that I compare the original and this version of the show. I really don’t. I like to discuss the interesting ways stuff differs and how both stories have gone in very different directions DESPITE being the same basic storyline but I don’t compare. The MEANINGS and MESSAGES overlap in some ways but these characters and experiences cannot be more different. To compare these clips is to lose the point entirely and to deprive yourself of a totally different experience, a really really really special experience.

Let’s face it, O Helga Natt was/is iconic. Always will be. It’s gut wrenchingly beautiful. It’ll stick with me, always. But no way am I going to compare what Skam Italia did because it wouldn’t be fair on either clip and would do an ENORMOUS disservice to the beauty I watched tonight and the meanings behind this short but powerful clip. I hold them entirely separate and I cherish both.

I absolutely adored what Skam Italia did tonight. It made me feel so happy, so comforted, so HOPEFUL. Word of the day, my friends. HOPE. I am a total cynic at heart but this thawed my cold cold heart. My god.

Quite a few of you inexplicably asked for my thoughts. Can I just say first off how much of a gorgeous experience it is sharing this show with you all. Thank you for all of the kind messages you’ve sent me. Not a single one goes unnoticed. Now, RAMBLE TIME with extra sprinkles of emotion. You thought the others were long... this post is enormous. Blame the gin.

SO THE OPENING. As I’m a sucker of going through the entire clip bit by bit... THE SONG. I love Enya. I love her Emmanuel album but this song is BEAUTIFUL. Come All Ye Faithful is a beautiful song. Lyrics wise... well, just catch me sitting with teary eyes because we’re with Marti after a really rough week. He’s confused, he’s upset, he’s not sure about his situation with his dad, he misses the boy he loves....

The fact the lyrics are “joyful and triumphant” and talk about faith. How many times have we spoken about how so many of the scenes this season are full of ‘joy’? I’ve used that word so many times I’ve lost count. To have this beautiful song as a backdrop is special.

The whole thing is just so damn pretty. AGAIN, Ludo with the dreamlike sequences that somehow still manage to seem so real. He’s got a gift that guy for this stuff.

Just a little moment of appreciation for Marti in his beanie hat and little scarf... and a little glimpse of his button up blue shirt. Oh my favourite blue boy. In a way I don’t even mind if they don’t have him wear different colours by the end of the season. I hope he DOES because #metaphors but I think I’ll miss his blue shirts.

The fact that Marti is searching for his father’s house. It’s really sad to me because this is a first. He hasn’t visited, he has no real connection with his dad anymore, his dad has well and truly moved on. They’re so separate and Marti’s about to step into their world. He’s brave (we know this) and he’s trying but it’s so sad to see him as an outsider here.

The Christmas lights are SO BEAUTIFUL aren’t they? The entire stretch of little pathways and arches and tunnels lined with fairylights and baubles... it’s stunning and Marti is doing what he ALWAYS does.... observing. HOW MANY TIMES have we seen him do this? The skeleton. The Radio booth. Nico’s room. Time and time again, he observes his surroundings. He’s an intelligent kid and he reads the room even if he is also utterly useless. It’s what we love though, right?!

And then the moment comes when he sees his father and his father’s new family. It’s how Marti described them. It was very much a bitter ‘us and them’ with Marti effectively feeling replaced by a new boy in his father’s life. What a sad idea for Marti to be holding onto, to be upset by and to carry around with him.

I LOVE that Marti then still chooses to observe. He doesn’t want to step inside just yet because he’s new here, he’s not part of this that he sees in the window. It’s all warm and cosy and VERY familial. It’s a family preparing for a visitor. It would be painful for ANYONE to see, never mind a son and in the circumstances he’s in but Marti watches and initially you can SEE the sadness in his eyes. That killed me.

You can practically hear his thoughts of ‘we could have been that’. What a terribly sad conclusion to come to BUT.....

and this is where the BUT is so important. Marti is BRAVE and KIND and STRONG and he continues to watch. and because he does, he sees a little boy.

It’s when Marti’s heart is fully on show. We KNOW he has a beautiful heart but when he looks at that boy and smiles, I could barely see the screen for crying. That’s compassion. Marti sees an innocent boy, someone who isn’t connected to any of the mess his father caused and who is happy and content and clearly living a lovely life and Marti’s smile. It’s so genuine, so so genuine. He’s not bitter or jealous or anything. There’s this sweet and blameless kid who is the epitomy of innocence living the life that Marti may have had but had taken away from him but Marti is happy for him.

There’s this overwhelming feeling of separation still, of Marti being an outsider, of literally looking through glass into their home... but it doesn’t feel bitter and sour anymore, it feels contented and accepting. Marti seems like he genuinely made peace with it all in that moment and THAT is something I didn’t expect them to be able to do. We didn’t see Marti’s dad explain or them hash it out, it wasn’t needed. Marti just realised that it doesn’t pay to keep the bitterness in his heart because he has learned about love and acceptance and how you need to forge your own way and seeing him realise this was so utterly breathtaking.

He receives Nico’s text (drowned in the BLUE light from his phone) and takes one last look in the house and there’s this sense of being settled and drawing a line and if that’s not the most comforting thing in the world. Marti is brave and strong. He has grown up and learned what is important.

That walk away from his father and his father’s new family towards Nico and the other people in his life is so powerfully symbolic. It’s often said about LGBT folks, that ‘found families’ are key and truly important and we’ve seen so many elements of that with Marti. Gio is his mamma and papa bear, his warm heart, his support, his best friend, the guy who’ll have his back at every turn and will always check in on him and give him advice. Filippo is a new friend but someone who will call Marti out, will educate, will advise and is confident in himself and his feelings that he helped Marti find that same feeling in himself. Fili is a confidant, a person removed from all the nonsense who Marti trusts and who has shown time and time again that he’ll show up and be someone that Marti can turn to. That element is so strong here because Marti KNOWS now, through all of his time these past months what is important but more crucial, WHO is important. His boys. Gio. His mamma. Filippo. Nico. He’s choosing them DESPITE everything. He has come to realise that they are worth it and he can’t be without any of them, has come to appreciate people in his life and know how vital it is to keep them close.

The second part of this season was always going to be about Marti learning about mental illness and, along with that, learning about himself and how he is NOT his father, how is strong and capable of being so caring and of giving love. This clip is ABSOLUTELY, start to finish, a representation of that and it made me so emotional to see that the hopes I had for where the season would go became reality in such a beautiful way.

So Nico’s message. Oh god, my sweet sweet boy. Yes, there are elements the same as Even’s but that ONE sentiment, of being alone or feeling alone, is key to both seasons and I am really pleased they kept the same sentiment because if that’s the ONE key message that any remake of this season gives to the young people in its country.... that can ONLY be a good thing.

I love Marti’s face when he reads the message because it’s of pure emotion.

Nico stating in the first part so clearly that suicide and death is not what he’s thinking of was MASSIVE. That’s the biggest starkest difference here because we’re told IMMEDIATELY��“don’t worry”. This isn’t a mad dash to save someone back but a rush to prove and receive love.

I love that Nico, in that message, showed his abilities to be clear with his feelings, to tell someone how he is feeling, to clarify his situation. GOD. That made me weepy. All he wanted was someone to listen to HIM and here he is telling Marti his feelings. Clearly. Like a freight train, my friends. ALL OF THE EMOTIONS and none of them I’m capable of controlling because GOD. Then the fact that Nico tells Marti more of his thoughts - “I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about how I’m in love with you and that I’ve never felt before what I feel for you”.

I cried. Full on sobbing. Because Nico is taking his opportunity to TRY with someone his new approach at telling people how he feels and GOD IS HE INCREDIBLE AT IT. And then he breaks my god damn heart with “I think you won’t believe me”. Because there is the doubt. There’s his caveat in case he needs it. He’s a product of his experience and experience has told him that people won’t believe his words. I made a whole other post on that one lines because it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Then we get the part that is very similar to Even’s text but I’m pleased they kept it in because it directly relates to the idea of not being alone. They changed the ending though and god does it fit perfectly. Nico still finds inspiration in the Last Men on Earth idea, THEIR IDEA, and because he’s feeling melancholy, he sees that everyone is an island, everyone is effectively alone. Marti knows better though. Dr Spera helped him see that. We need people around us. We need to learn to accept people into our lives. This sentiment strikes strong with me because I’m terrible at this. I keep people away a lot so this is so important for people to hear.

The idea what Nico has been standing there and his romantic heart has been imagining Marti out there as one of the twinkly lights.... and we see Marti SURROUNDED by them. It’s like they’re together without being, like Nico can see him. UGH beautiful sentiment from a beautiful boy.

So there’s this serene moment, beautiful decorations, warm colours, stunning swelling music.... it’s all Christmassy and full of a very specific feeling because it’s the one we needed at the time but then Marti runs... and he leaves that place and ends up in one of his very own. AND ITS SO BLUE. Ah. *happy sigh*

Now, I know some people weren’t sure about the change but I LOVEDDDDDDD it. This is no dash to save someone who may be hurting themselves. THIS IS A GAME. Marti smiles and he’s not upset or worrying.

We got what we expected. Chicco Rodi came through for us and I was grinning from ear to ear at my screen when Marti found the tutorial!!!!!!! He remembered. It’s another of their “things”, an amazing little thread that has extended throughout the story from first meeting to when they were heartbroken and Marti REMEMBERED, knew he’d need the tutorial to get in.

The fact we join Marti on what is effectively a little treasure hunt is just PERFECT. It is a complete antithesis to the original. This is joyful and the music is PERFECT because not only have we heard this SO MUCH (trailer rewatch 500000000) but it’s full of suspense and you’re so WITH Marti on his little trek.

AND THEN. Look, I had to watch this final scene three times before I could see all of the details properly because after the first watch I was sobbing. If you’ve read any of my posts, I keep going on and on about how soothing and comforting the final episode is of this story. It’s the MOST WONDERFUL thing. It’s just exactly what the story needs, what the characters deserve, what the audience are desperate for but ultimately, it teaches people about HOPE.

There is no word better to describe this moment than hope. Marti is successful on his little treasure hunt and finds Nico where they first talked and connected, on THEIR balcony that Nico has really loved the idea of since they met. It’s dark and the lights of Rome are in the background and COULD IT BE MORE ROMANTIC (ala Chandler Bing). Good lord. Ok, I’m ruining the mood.

I think the ONLY want to talk about this scene is by talking about every single action because there are very few words in this moment but SO MUCH SAID. An overwhelming amount actually.

The first shot we see of Nico is him just standing staring out at the world and Marti smiles because THERE HE IS.

We’ve said time and time and time again that Nico’s all about the subtext in the past, all about the metaphors and talking AROUND stuff wheres Marti likes the LITERAL approach. He needs to be clear. Nico is now learning he’s able to be clear and as soon as he is, Marti understands.

I have NEVER, so far this season, seen Marti so SURE and CONFIDENT than how he is in this moment. That walk towards Nico is so bold and brave (that should be Marti’s tagline) and with so much surety. He KNOWS what he wants and now he knows that Nico feels for him something special and that he didn’t need to doubt, nothing else matters...except making Nico understand how Marti feels. AND HOW BETTER TO DO IT THAN TOUCH FOREHEADS because they have so many “things” at this point, Marti needs a list. I love that Marti’s the one to hold them together, to take control here.

The thing that strikes me the MOST about the entire scene is that Marti smiles throughout. He doesn’t stop. He shows Nico how happy he is that they’re together, how happy Nico makes him, how Nico can have faith and doesn’t need to worry or feel upset. Marti is SO NATURALLY COMFORTING and god if I haven’t been saying I’ve been waiting for this for so long... and he proved me right. He’s amazing at it.

Nico looks small. He looks defeated, ashamed, sad, embarrassed, guilty, damaged and so many other painful things. It’s difficult to see him cry and feel unable to look Marti in the eyes. That’s HEARTBREAKING.

AND THE SONG. “My blood spills as RED FOR YOU”. Come on, man. Give me a break from the indescribably lovely metaphors. RED. Again.

Marti continues to smile, wipes his tears and you can hear the “it’s ok, I’m not mad, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of or feel guilty about, it’s ok”. Nico still can’t look up and it’s so sad to imagine that this is how he has felt with others at such difficult times.... and perhaps they might not have reacted as Marti did.

Marti kisses his tears. He kisses his actual tears. Just like Nico kissed his heart. Marti’s trying to say all he can with his kiss. I could cry, it’s so beautiful.

Nico’s response almost took my breath away because he half smiles and looks genuinely grateful and shocked but shakes his head and continues to look down. How damaged by people’s responses has this kid been? But also, he’s off the back of a very difficult time and you can feel the “I don’t deserve this” radiating out of him. But Marti doesn’t stop and never stops smiling.

Haven’t they ALWAYS smiled non-stop around each other?!

I can’t handle how Marti continually stroke’s Nico’s skin, is so gentle and tender and soft in his touches. He’s INCREDIBLE AT THIS.

AND THEN HE MADE ME CRY HARD because that “please look at me” tilt to Nico’s chin was one of Marti’s defining moments to me because that’s BOLD. He’s confident and sure and is getting his god damn point across to this beautiful boy in any way he can. He flat out refuses to let Nico do this to himself so he gently raises his eyes so they can look at each other and kisses him only once.

That tiny kiss is like a “yes you do deserve this, stop that” which seems to register somewhere in Nico because he doesn’t lower his head, he keeps looking into Marti’s eyes and the next kiss is “i love you” if ever I’ve seen it.

And that’s what gets the smile out of Nico. That tiny barely there smile.

Marti telling Nico he’s not alone is so important, not only because it’s the defining moment in this story but because that is one of Nico’s greatest fears. He told Marti so early on, he explained how he felt about being alone and feeling alone and he couldn’t even pretend to be a Last Man in his mind because Marti had to be there with him.

And GOD Rocco. The acting. The nuanced, subtle, genuine acting. The way Nico looks absolutely filled with gratitude and love and appreciation and magic for this boy in front of him. He looks truly in love with Marti. I believe it. The way Nico reaches up and takes Marti’s hands and holds them there gets to my heart in ways I’m not sure I’ve experienced for a long long while. That’s love, so so so much love in his eyes and the kiss to Marti’s lips was like a “thank you”, the sweetest but most meaningful kiss. It doesn’t come lightly from Nico at all because no doubt, from what we know, he hasn’t experienced much of this before and there’s an overpowering amount of gratitude here for who Marti is.

I think that cuddle soothed my soul. Genuinely.

The way Nico closed his eyes into it. The way Marti did the same but then opened them. He’s not missing a moment, he’s got stuff to ensure here. He’s so present in the moment and in his almost FIERCE pursuit of caring and loving. When I said I was waiting to see Marti show what he was capable of, I knew he’d be WONDERFUL because we’ve said so often how brave and clear he is with his words and actions but I am so proud of him. He is a natural at loving someone.

And just the fact that Marti still doesn’t stop stroking Nico’s hair and holding him tighly as the lyrics say “and I would see your heart”.

HEART. Coffee hearts. Kisses to hearts. Brain far away from the heart. Marti sees it, he understand.

Help. It’s so gorgeous. I’m struggling at this point with words.

No words required. Beautiful. Start to finish a mini rollercoaster of moments with such unique atmospheres and feelings behind them but ALL OF THEM so important to leading Marti into episode 10 where the he ties up his loose ends and can spend time CARING and LOVING and APPRECIATING.

I can’t wait. Just that shot of Nico so cared for and cuddled so tightly in the arms of the person he loves was just too much for my cold dead heart to handle. I adored it all... can you tell?

(Just warning now, Minutt for Minutt was hands down one of the most important clips for me personally from the original and although I’m not expecting it to be all that similar, if Marti and Nico’s version comes even close to how the original made me feel, I shall be a wreck tomorrow in the best way. Yey for tomorrow!)

#skam italia #this is huge and i cried #enjoy #ep9 #nicotino #thoughts etc #THOUGHTS POST

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past-perfect-future-tense · 5 years

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The Elements of Chance (Part 2 of 1)

Here’s part two of part one of my book. As always ask me anything about the book or if you’d like to be tagged. More teasing and banter between our protagonist and antagonist.

My feet had not failed me. In fact they had taken me to the next exhibit across the way from the Rothko one. As I began touring this part of the 4th floor, I found I was beginning to calm down and gain my composure. It was all I could not to think about him and what had occurred.

Why must I be that woman? The one who lacks grace, agility, and charm as those traits were so foreign to me; much like this country, this continent and it’s in habitants.

Cildo Meirelos, a Brazilian artist who used different types of medium to convey his visions. I began to walk from room to room admiring his insights on life. Dare I say this? I was enjoying this exhibit much more than the other. A conceptual challenge; yes, that was what he presented and I felt compelled to be drawn in and captured by the nuances he has created.

As I began to view the 4th room, there, in all of its bright wonder was the Red Shift. The Red Shift was a room completely composed of red objects, sans the walls, which were a bright, crisp white which in contrast to the walls made the various shades of red much brighter and vivid. I felt this room. I felt this color, the loudness, the brashness, the brightness, the boldness. The depth of it was a comfort, as if it was there for me to thrive in. I could never feel this way about any other color. This hue is warm, inviting, attention grabbing, in your face type of thing that with an addition of white makes the shade it becomes all of those opposite qualities. I feel all of that from inside of me, as they too change, and yet retain that which makes them wild and amazing.

I could feel someone from behind, standing very close; close enough to make me aware that I was not alone. This reminded me of the incident from before so I was in a heightened state of awareness as to not hurt some other poor soul from the museum today.

“You look like you just got up off of that sofa and walked out of the exhibit.”

I heard that familiar voice, as from before it would be forever etched into memory like a shape on stained glass from a window that somehow looked in and opened up into my soul. As I turned around ever so careful as to not fall into him again, I was able to look at him but this time with a bit more clarity and calmer demeanor. “A creation of a Latin artist, I should have known when I saw you in the other exhibit. You should get back in there, before I steal from the museum and never return you.”

I smiled at him, because I wasn’t sure of what else to do. Then I decided I should speak. How could I ever match a comment like that? “You see that guy over there, the one in the black jacket at the next room, well, we could blame him. We could say he stole me instead of you. He could be our scapegoat. No one would ever now, who would believe him over us?” He smiled again as I returned his coyness with some of my own.

As I had leaned into him to converse, I couldn’t help but realize how close I was to him. Much closer than before, close enough to capture his scent. It was intoxicating, the deepness to the musk, almost as sweet as the depth. It was a dangerous combination. I felt like was going to fall into him and all I wanted was to lay my face in his neck, not to really even kiss him just to rest my lips on his warm skin.

“Yes, I believe he could be the guy to blame. Look at his shifty eyes, see, he’s looking at us like we know what he is up too.” He said as I moved my head slightly away from him to see his facial expression. His eyes, they were so full of life and joy. The blue, I will never get over that blue.

“Wait, but you are the bad guy remember not him. You’re the thief.” I said to him with conviction. It wasn’t a lie; he did take something from me the minute I laid my eyes on him. He took a part of my soul and I wasn’t sure that I wanted it back.

“Yeah, but everyone is guilty of something.” He said to me as I looked up at him only to find that he was searching again. Did I seem to hide something? In all honesty I was. How could he know though? His words were like a sword, bright, shiny, and polished to provide a painful yet elegant way to dissolve my secrets from me. Not just yet will I divulge what is hiding inside of me, I wasn’t ready to succeed. I needed to keep them for me. What would happen if I did give in? What would he give me in return? I knew I wasn’t ready to risk that much on something as fragile as this would turn out to be.

“That maybe true, but tell me, is it guilt that keeps secrets or is it something more? Guilt leads to something sinister, what if the reason isn’t sinister? What if it is innocence?” I questioned him; maybe he was hiding something too.

“Why would innocence hide anything? How would it know anything was bad? Innocence is purity.” He quickly added more fuel to the fire that somehow was started between us.

“What if something was innocent, then it would not even know it was hiding anything in all of its’ naivety?”

“Naivety” He smirked “Hmmm, I can see why you wear the color red.”

“Am I being facetious?” I taunted him and he was quite responsive which I found irresistible.

“Yes, I like that though. A quality not many people possess.” He was sincere and that was a rare quality that I found in him. I was going to have to keep my wits about me with this one.

I began to walk forward to the next room. Out of my peripheral vision I could see that he was walking behind me. Why would he be trying to befriend me? Did I look that desperate? Was it my look of longing I gave him that somehow triggered a response within him? So many questions I had and would I have the courage to ask him for the answers, that was the real question. I stopped in front of the next room. It was the other room that intrigued me from this exhibit.

Radios, I could think of many ways this piece could evoke curiosity. The placement of them, what they ushered in so many years ago and will they be a dinosaur in the future? I suspect they may and when that happens I know I will feel like an ancient race of living creatures that have somehow seen their demise. He was standing next to me, taking the collection in.

“You know, they say video killed the radio star.” I nodded my head in his direction and then to that of the transistors.

“Ouch, that hurt!” He said with alarm, rubbing his chest like I had shot an arrow into to his heart. “So what are you trying to say?” He began to smile wryly.

“Nothing that hasn’t been said before, I’m afraid.” As I grinned back at him, he laughed at the thought of me teasing him about his age.

“You don’t watch television?” He continued to look at me as he waited for my answer.

“Well, no, not really. I prefer to read and use my imagination. What about you?”

“I love to read and I too don’t watch it that much myself. Books are far more inspiring, words in general. To me, a book that I can pick a phrase out and it inspires me to paint or write something myself, then that is truly special. If I can’t find anything like that in the book, then I feel the book is a waste.” He was explaining his view of inspiration; it was not so different from my own. I maybe a little less critical of others work though, but then again don’t make me repeat that in front of a firing squad.

“So why do you like the radio so much?” he asked me.

“Well, for instance, the element of surprise. I like turning it on and when a song that I love comes on and is playing, the spontaneity, it just feels more special. It is in its own spotlight and nothing can take it away. I feel even more this way when I’m in the car driving or as a passenger. I feel it is something I will never get over I’m afraid. Not that I want to, either.” He was looking at me intently as I explained my silly childhood appreciation.

He had turned around and was looking toward the door, taking a few steps in that general direction. Then turned back to me and motioned me to come toward him. “Come with me. There are others things to see. I think what is ahead of us will interest you more.” He was standing there waiting for me to follow him. “Please, do I have to beg?” He eyes were big and he made a face of succession.

“No, you don’t have to beg.”

“Do you trust me?” What kind of question was that? He desired my trust?

“No.” I lied. The truth should be known I did trust him, far more than I should. I was a bit afraid, not of him but of myself. That made me uneasy; uneasy in my own skin and that was something I didn’t like.

He reached out his hand for me to take. It was at this point that I began to notice the other patrons were watching us and our strange dance we trying to find a rhythm for.

Was I blowing this way out of proportion? As I looked at the other patron’s faces, there in their eyes was my answer. So I walked towards him and he gave me his arm, like a gentleman from another place and time. He was being so careful, not wanting to hurt or frighten me in anyway. With that we walked to the elevator and took it down to the third level, the level of Poetry and Dreams.

We walked the floor in silence, arm in arm. No one seemed to notice who he was or that we were even there. I felt oddly comfortable on his arm and very nervous at the same time. Could he see how I felt or feel my shaking when we stopped? I prayed that he didn’t. In viewing such works by renowned Salvador Dali, Paul Klee, Francis Bacon, and Pablo Picasso, I felt a sudden urge to question, question everything. I could tell you the way art makes me feel. It evokes emotions, which brought us to our silent communication. When we entered the 3rd room aptly named Elements of Chance, we looked at each other and said nothing, yet from looking into his eyes, I knew he felt the way that I did. Nothing was left to chance, everything happens for a reason. During the rest of this surrealists dream we would look at one another ever so often, almost as if to check that the other one was seeing what you were seeing and feeling the same set emotions. In our silence I knew we did.

I continued to follow him out of the rooms and into the elevator, never questioning him or his direction. Not until I realized that we were leaving the museum. “Wait! Where are we going? I haven’t seen it all yet.” I pleaded with him as we were about to walk out the front door.

“Don’t worry I’ll bring you back again. Let’s not spend the day in doors. It’s too beautiful to waste inside.” He tried to assure me and he was doing a good job of it too.

“I wanted to buy some books and” but before I could finish he interrupted me.

“I will buy them and send them to you.” He looked at me and I tried to look upset. I was upset, and I found with him there I couldn’t stay that way at him. “I promise, I will come back and buy them for you.” We continued arm and arm as we left the museum. We walked toward the street and I wondered where we were going that was so important we had to leave. “Is there somewhere you need to go?” He asked me before he got a cab.

“Yes, I need to go somewhere. I have something that needs to be taken care of.” A cab pulled over and we when got in the backseat, he looked at me and smiled. I gazed at him defiantly and told the driver the address.

tags @melodramaticfanatic

@michelehansel I know you’ve read this before so just bear with me while I repost the beginning and get to part two.

#the elements of chance #My writing #my book #London #Norway #artist #Tate Modern #Alek and Katherine

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #188

“don’t you try to hide with those angel eyes.”

Would you rather take a walk in the cold rain, or in the blistering heat? Ha, the rain, any day. What is your favorite card game? Magic: The Gathering. If it were revealed that religion in its entirety did not actually exist, would your outlook on life be any different? No. If you had the chance to slip through a portal, despite being aware of any of effects and/or consequences, would you do it? No. Which parent was more strict when you were growing up? Mom. Worst facial hair, in your opinion: The pedo mustache. You know the one I'm talking about. Have you ever eaten dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets? Yes, I like, demanded we get those instead of regular as a kid lol. McDonalds, do you like it or does it disgust you? I honestly don't see why people hate it?? Do you like the state you live in? No. Did you ever own a Tamagotchi? I believe so. What do you hope you grow out of? The laziness I have with chores oops. What is the healthiest and unhealthiest thing you do on a regular basis? Healthiest, drink at least one bottle of water... even though I know that's nowhere near where I'm supposed to be lmao. Unhealthiest, drink soda. What is the most embarrassing thing you own? Ummmm idk. What is the strangest habit you have? I have to go use the bathroom literally right before I lay down for bed. Doesn't matter if I did ten minutes ago, I /have/ to go again because if I feel even a damn drop in my bladder, I can't sleep. What movie made you cry the most? The Notebook, probably. Titanic really got me, too. What was one of the happiest moments of your childhood? Getting my dog. What’s your favorite vacation memory from when you were a child? Watching the fireworks above the castle at Disney World. What impression do you try to give when you first meet someone? I try to be very polite. Who or what inspires you to be a better person? Mark. What’s the TLDR description of your last relationship? I didn't like him like that. If you found out your current life has been just a dream, would you choose to wake up? (You don’t know if your real life would be better or worse.) No. Well... do I ever wake up? If I was going to at some point, then I would, as I'd just be hurting myself by living in a word I would only leave. What dumb thing did you believe for a really long time? I'm not even remotely kidding, I didn't put together what "PMS" stood for and thought it was about mood swings 'n shit *during* your period until a few months ago. Where would you like to retire? I'm not thinking of that yet. What brings you the most joy in life? Talking/being with Sara. How many windows are on the upstairs part of your house? We don't have an upstairs. Do you own many hats? I have a Carolina Hurricanes one somewhere from going to a game with Dad, maybe two actually, but idr where they are or if I even still have them. When was the last time you were kept off school/work etc because of snow? I haven't been in school in a long time and I'm unemployed. Have you ever taken an underwater picture? No. Ever been on a ride and hated every second? Not seriously. I went on one I was terrified of (one of those circles that goes waaay up and then abruptly drops you) just to step out of my comfort zone, but I didn't hate it. Scared tho. What were an average day’s tasks at your favorite job you’ve had so far? I most certainly don't have a favorite. Does your car have a backup camera? I don't have my own car, but Mom's doesn't. Are you working on any goals? Yeah, not going well. :') Do you enjoy reading? Not particularly... I kinda just stopped enjoying it, but I also associate it with the hospital because that and coloring was all I ever did. The only thing I really *enjoy* reading is our RP because I'm so deeply invested in our characters, but even then, I procrastinate reading long posts. I'm genuinely trying to start reading again, though... I used to adore it. Are you interested in politics? No, though I should care. Did/Do you enjoy high school? Not usually 'cuz I was a depressed shit. Have you ever watched The Golden Girls? YES Ma and I love that shit. Did you ever like the Ninja Turtles? No. Ever been in a meaningless relationship? Tyler, yes. Does anything on your body hurt right now? Not at this very instant. Know anyone on birth control? Most girls I know + myself. Would you go swimming right now if you could? Yeah, that'd be nice. How long was your longest relationship? Over 3 1/2 years. What are you looking forward to in the next 3 months? My birthday. Have you ever gone frog hunting? No. Who’s the last person to seriously hurt you? Mom. Do you like getting dirty? NO. Are you a very flirty person? No. Who was your favorite babysitter? "Uncle" Donny. Do you swear? I think I make that pretty obvious. Are you gullible? Not usually. What is the last dream you remember? (describe) A nightmare with Dad that I don't really remember the details of. What is something that you fear will happen to you in the future? (Also why) I'll develop Alzheimer's. "Why" is obvious. Thankfully, it doesn't run in my family at all. Describe the best day that you can remember? First day at Sara's. Describe your worst day? The night of the breakup. What are some of your favorite songs right now? The SYN remix of Slipknot's "Psychosocial," "Incense and Iron" by Powerwolf, the "Closer" cover by Asking Alexandria, "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment... I really have a lot rn. Do you ever have reoccurring nightmares? Describe? I've had four nightmares with my dad, all with horrible themes. I guess you could call that "reoccurring." Name a fictional place you would like to go? Take. Me. To. Azeroth bitch. Stormheim in specific, or Feralas. What criminal (dead or alive) would you like to sit down and talk to and why? None. If you read books, what are you reading now? I'm very, very slowly reading The Fault in Our Stars. Do you think that forgiveness is mandatory to move on from something? No. I still don't know if I forgive Jason, yet I'm over it. Do you believe in the death penalty? In extreme cases, yup. Some people have no right to life following some crimes. What is something you want to do but are scared of actually doing it? Ride a rollercoaster. Name three things you would buy if you had the money to buy them? A PS4, drawing tablet, another tat. Are you in a relationship right now? If so, do you think it’s a healthy one? Definitely! (Follow up) If it’s unhealthy, what makes it that way? N/A Would you ever date someone long distance? I am now. Name a person that you can’t stand and tell us why? My former best friend for a plethora of reasons. What group do you hate the most on Tumblr and why? SJWs. I'll stay away from "why" because I have extremely strong feelings and don't wanna offend anyone. What is the meanest thing you have ever done to someone, and why? Messaged Jason before leaving for the ER, directly blaming him. I mean the cause was what he did, but like... you don't fucking contact someone telling them "hey I'm off to the ER because I'm suicidal because of you." I don't care what I feel about him now, that was fucked up. Have you ever sent anon hate to someone? Nope. If you could write a book, what would it be about? I actually think it'd be pretty cool to create some sorta novel series involving all the RP stories, like divide the books into each mob's story... If you could make one rule that everyone had to follow, what would it be? Don't exhibit violence. If you could star in a movie, what kind of movie would it be? ONE W/ TIM BURTON. In your opinion what is something horrible everyone should try once? ?????????????????????????????? What is the hardest lesson that you have ever learned? Someone can fall out of love with you. What mistake do you keep making over and over again? Jumping to conclusions. If you could have a video of one event in your life, what would the video be? The moment Sara and I met. What is the most illegal thing you have ever done? Pirated a computer game I desperately wanted to play afsjjwoeuqowe I'm glad I don't have it anymore, that guilt. People in the past were buried with things that were important to them, what would you be buried with? The pebble from Holly Hill. What is something you are against, but find yourself doing anyway? Being sarcastic as hell when I'm mad. What was the last photo that you took? A leaf, I think. What are your favorite lyrics from a song? Probably "a bloody war behind my eyes; I'll come all right on the other side." Have you ever hit someone? Who and why? Nicole when we were little for making me mad over something I don't remember. What do you think they should teach in school that they don’t? Basic adult skills. What’s your favorite language? German. It sounds so powerful to me, especially in metal ajsfoawoejaw. What’s the most vivid dream you’ve ever had? I don't remember. Who’s your favorite celebrity? Korean Jesus. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Rebel's Market rip. Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? No, far from on my to-do list. I don't support them in the very least. How many tattoos do you have? Six. If you don't have any, have you ever thought of getting one? N/A When's the last time you ate a homegrown tomato? Like, '16 on a sandwich. Are you a good cook? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Do you know how to pump your own gas? No. What do you think about the most? The future. What do you do most when you are bored? Watch YouTube. Which came first: the chicken or the egg? Chicken. What kind of books do you like to read? Fantasy. How far away from your birthplace do you live now? Like, <10 minutes. Ever been stung by a jelly fish? No. Could you cope with the paparazzi if you were famous? FUCK NO SOMEONE WOULD GET KNOCKED OUT. Do you wear foundation? Veeeeery rarely. Would you ever adopt? If I actually wanted kids, sure. Are you sexually active? No. Last person you sang happy birthday to? Sara. <3 Was the last jacket you wore yours? No. Last thing you won? Uhhhh good question. What level of brightness do you usually keep your phone at? A bit above the middle. Have you ever attended a religious or private school? Well, I went to Sunday school. How many cars does your household own? One. What's your favorite meat? Ummmm pork or chicken. What's the best amusement park you've ever visited? Well, Disney World. How old were you when you got your first car? I still don't have one lol. Do you know anyone who's gotten pregnant over the age of 40? I don't think so? Who does most of the grocery shopping in your home? Mom. Are you listening to music right now? If so, what's the theme of the lyrics? "Adrenalize" by In This Moment. Sex, like it seems most of their songs are about lmao. What movie/game/etc. helps you calm down? Shadow of the Colossus. What does your room smell like? Dog, probably. Do you like to organize? Not particularly. What song is your aesthetic? "She" by Dodie is so Soft and Good. Do you believe in auras? Maybe? Idk. What do you wish you hated, but actually like? Blood On The Dance Floor. I've never really looked into the concrete facts, but I know supposedly they've been sexually involved with those underage. I like a good number of their songs, though. Is there someone you have mixed feelings towards? I'm sure there's someone. Do you prefer space or the ocean? Spaaaaace. What form of government do you like the most? (capitalism, socialism, etc.) Honestly? I don't know actually what they are and I don't care enough to research. What do you think our purpose is in the universe? Hell if I know. Is there a song you can’t handle listening to, even though you like it? "Stairway to Heaven." What ex do you miss the most, if you have one? I most miss who Jason was, not who he became at all. But it doesn't matter, I have someone way more important now. What is your favorite thing to learn about? Meerkats. What country’s history do you find the most interesting? Idk. What breakup was the hardest, if you had one? lol y'all know Do you have someone where you can’t decide if you like them romantically or just as a friend? Not anymore. Do you have any strange interests? RP. What is a topic you are uncomfortable with discussing with most people? Sex. What is something you dislike about the dating world? People don't seem to take love seriously. What gives you confidence? Feeling knowledgeable on the subject. Have you ever dated someone with very different sexual tastes than you? No. Well, not that I know of. I've only been sexual with one. Have you ever said anything you regretted while drunk? No. Has anyone ever been extremely jealous of you? Do you know why? Idk. What was the angriest your parents ever were at you? Dad, idk. Mom, probably when I said "fuck you." That was a night. Or when she tried to kick me out of the car for some argument I can't remember. What was the longest you stayed in your own home for? Weeks, I'm sure. Right now, what is your number one desire? Get a job. Do you feel as though someone ‘won’ in your last break up? No. Whatever happened to the first person you ever loved? I haven't spoke a word to him in almost two years, idk and idc really. Are you currently healthy? In some ways, but no in most. What is something most people are turned on by but you’re not? Extremely muscular men, like wrestlers. Has anyone in your life changed drastically (for better or worse) since you met them? How? Not that I can think of. What song reminds you of good times from high school? "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by AD2R ironically lmao. Have you ever inherited something? What and from who? No. Who is the last baby that you held? Keegan. Do you know of any twins with rhyming names? No. Last time you saw fireworks? Long time ago. Do you have a black dog? Teddy has some black on him. Do you have a top price where ethics and morality are no longer an issue? No. Well, I guess it depends. What is the greatest physical challenge that you have accomplished? Losing ~60 lbs. Have you ever played naked Twister? No. If tattoos didn't hurt and you could get anything, what would it be? The #1 tat I want is dA's NukeRooster's painting "Denialism" (I got her permission), but I'm going to have to go to an extreme professional, and it's gonna be priiiiiiiceeeeeeey. Have you ever been ghosted before? No. Did you ever get caught watching porn? No, because I've never watched it. Were you ever the bully? No. What's the worst prank someone has ever done to you? Idk.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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beckytailweaver · 6 years

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[FIC] Coco - Reflection

Here is a "short" fic that is independent of any other AU I've worked on. It should stand on its own, though it does borrow a couple of concepts. It's a What If based on/in tribute to many of the thoughts discussed Here, as well as the artwork in This Reblog.

I'm dedicating this little story to everyone who was involved in planting the seed and shaping the idea. Thank you all for letting me add my two cents! :)

(Warnings: Teensy bit of teenage angst, and a lot of tooth-rotting sap.)

Coco - Reflection by Becky Tailweaver

Late in the evening of Día de Los Muertos, after he was certain everyone else was in bed asleep, Miguel crept back down to the family ofrenda room, his great-great grandfather's white guitar in one hand, a notebook in the other.

The candles on the ofrenda had been put out for the night, for safety, but there was one small electric lamp on an end table near the door, and when he switched it on the aging bulb cast the room in a dim, faded yellow light that was almost as warm. He stepped across the room to the ofrenda, smiling fondly at the rows of photos spread upon it. Mamá Coco's photo especially; his great-grandma's eyes always seemed to twinkle knowingly, just as they had in his earliest memories of her.

Taking a deep breath, he laid his notebook on the table and set the white guitar down reverently, carefully leaning it against the front of the ofrenda table. Standing to one side of the instrument, he waited with bated breath as he always did, holding himself still, listening for the slightest whisper.

A few moments later, there was a flicker of orange-gold light from the corner of his eye, and his tense anticipation was rewarded: A wide grin and outstretched skeletal arms.

"Oye, Chamaco!"

"Papá Héctor!" Miguel threw himself into those arms and hugged tight enough to hear bones creak.

"Easy now, easy! Leave me a few unbroken bones!" Héctor laughed, though he was hugging just as much.

"I missed you," Miguel insisted, pressing his face into the soft, worn purple fabric on his grandfather's shoulder.

Bony hands patted his back. "Yeah, I missed you too, mijo. A year always seems too long."

"I wish there was another way you could visit more..."

"Eh, me too, but y'know what? I get to visit at all, so I'm not gonna complain too much."

"You're right." They drew back to look at each other, Miguel wiping quickly at his eyes. "I'm so glad I get to see you, no matter how."

Miguel didn't like to think much about how he'd felt the first two years after that fateful Día de Muertos, when he'd managed to rescue Mamá Coco's memory of her papá by a thread of song and love, but had no way of knowing—except for blind, desperate, childish hope—that he'd saved Héctor's existence in time. Miguel believed he had succeeded, but there was always a sad, dark seed of doubt in the back of his mind, bearing the fear that he would one day pass into the Land of the Dead as an old man and Papá Héctor—his family, his inspiration, his best friend—wouldn't be there waiting for him.

Then there was the Día de Muertos when Miguel was fourteen, and he'd come into the ofrenda room after the meal and the celebration to wind down and talk to his deceased relatives, whether or not they were actually present. He'd rested his guitar against the ofrenda without a second thought, and in the next moment heard Héctor's voice as clear as his own, just next to him.

When they'd gotten over the joy and the shock, they'd discovered that once again their guitar was to blame: Héctor had been poking around in the ofrenda room before Miguel arrived, and Miguel had unknowingly placed his half of the guitar exactly where Héctor had rested his own. Somehow, during the slim window of the Day of the Dead, the reunited guitar allowed their worlds to overlap. They'd spent the rest of the night, almost into sunrise—when Héctor had to run to get back to the cemetery and the bridge in time—talking and singing and laughing together, interspersed with hugs and tears.

It only worked near the ofrenda, only when the two "halves" of the guitar were precisely placed, and only for Miguel and Héctor. The living family members remained as blind to Héctor's presence as ever, and when other members of the deceased family came in to see what the commotion was, Miguel could not see or hear them either. Héctor was a willing "translator," however, especially when Mamá Coco wanted to tell her boy how much he was loved. The tradition persisted from then on, Miguel staying up late and Héctor staying extra long for the opportunity to spend time together again.

"Did you like my song this year?" Miguel asked, when his grin was clear again.

"Absolutely! It was incredible!" Héctor gushed, throwing his arms wide. "Such a beat! Imelda and I were out of breath from dancing!"

"No manches! You guys don't have lungs, how can you be out of breath?"

"Hey, skeletons can get tired too!" Héctor huffed with entirely fake indignation. "Show some respect for your elders, chamaquito!"

"I'm not so little any more, Papá Héctor," Miguel snorted, drawing himself up. He was almost eye to eye with his grandfather.

"Yeah...not so little." Héctor smiled, warm and genuine and nostalgic. "Seventeen, eh! You're gonna be taller than your papá and me both if you keep this up."

Miguel smiled gamely too, though he couldn't help the wince. "At least I got your height. That's something, right?"

"...Miguel?" Papá Héctor must've seen something in his expression; they knew each other too well somehow, even if their time together over the years had been less than the days in a week. Héctor looked concerned, setting a gentle hand on his grandson's shoulder.

Miguel had to look away, but then his eyes caught on the photo at the very top of the ofrenda, and two faces that had become so important to him. His throat tightened and his grandfather's kind warmth seemed to burn, so he turned away, striding to the old bench on the far side of the room to seat himself heavily.

Héctor followed him quietly, sat beside him. His ghostly weight didn't even make the dry wood creak. After several moments, he spoke. "Mijo, what's up?"

Elbows on knees, unable to look up, it took Miguel a minute to talk. It felt shameful, the things he was torn up over—they felt like ungrateful, selfish, childish things. He knew his Papá Héctor would never mock him, but he feared the disappointment.

"You know, I wanted to grow up to be just like you," he confessed at last, staring at the floor. "After I knew the truth about you...it's still true, I wanted to be just like that músico in the photo. My great-great-grandpa."

"Hey, hey, you're a great musician!" Héctor told him, patting his back in reassurance. "I'm so proud of your songs every single year. And I love that you leave me sheet music in my offerings. I get to bring a little bit of you with me when we're apart, and it's so much fun to play your songs for the family all year 'round. Everyone loves it!"

Miguel's vision blurred. "I wanted to be like you. I wanted people to be able to look at me and see you. 'See, this man is my grandfather—this man who has so much talent, who wrote these amazing songs. Look at me and remember him.' I felt like...I could help keep the memory of you alive if I looked like...if I just..."

Héctor was staring at him, stunned.

"When I started to get taller, when my voice started changing," Miguel pressed on, trying not let himself cry; he was too old for crying, and growing up with the wrong face wasn't something that could be undone by a few tears. "I kept looking in the mirror, trying to find you. But I never... It wasn't you I saw."

Miguel had known from early on that he had Mamá Imelda's cheekbones—Héctor had been sure to proudly tell him that. And he still had a little bit of Abuelito Franco about his nose. But the resemblance to a young Papá Julio had faded considerably as he grew and his features started to sharpen out of childhood. As the months and years went by, the face that he started to see echoed in the mirror to a startling degree was not Héctor's—it was Imelda's.

His features were a little more angular and his eyes rounder, but the resemblance to the young woman in the ofrenda photo was striking and clear, especially when he wasn't smiling. It wasn't every generation a Rivera took so strongly after one ancestor or another. But to Miguel's consternation and disappointment, it wasn't the face he had so wanted to grow into.

"Hey, hey, hey..." Héctor pulled him against his bony side in another hug, as gently understanding as ever. "You don't have to look exactly like me. You'll always be my boy—I love you no matter who you take after. And come on, I wouldn't wish my nose on anybody."

Miguel couldn't help the little snort of laughter.

"I wouldn't wish my ears on anybody either," Héctor went on, almost cheerful, "but guess what! You got those anyway—one hundred percent Rivera elephant ears. You definitely got my musical ear too, Chamaco. I can tell; we both cringe when Abel pulls a bad note out of his accordion."

Miguel managed another little laugh. "Or Rosa squawks her violin..."

"Or somebody turns the junior twins loose with recorders," Héctor added, and they both shuddered before Héctor grinned. "See! You do take after me."

"But..."

"I can't come to a single Día de Muertos without Coco reminding me that you have my grin," his grandfather went on proudly, keeping his arm around Miguel's slumped shoulders. "She tells me she knew it from when you were a tiny baby, that you'd be just like me. From the very moment you smiled when she sang to you. Just by being born, you were helping her keep my memory alive."

"R-really?"

"Absolutely. Grandpa's honor, mijo." The hand around his shoulder squeezed reassuringly. "You and Enrique both got my long legs and knobby knees. Victoria did too, and she'll never forgive me for it. But it helps you run from La Chancla faster, yes?"

Miguel's lips quirked into a tiny smile. "As long as I get a head start."

"And from the look of things..." Héctor leaned forward a little and tapped his Rivera shoe-clad toes. "You've got my paddle feet too. I apologize for that, it can make dancing with a partner a challenge."

Miguel leaned forward too, his well-trained eye noting in surprise that he wore the same size shoe as his grandfather.

"I think your voice sounds a lot more like mine now, eh?" Héctor went on, nudging him cheerfully. "Imelda and Coco both say they can hardly tell which of us is singing, sometimes. They tell me you're starting to sound better than me, but I think they're biased."

Miguel tried not to giggle, but failed when Héctor winked at him.

"And when I hear you play our guitar, sometimes it's something completely new I've never tried, and you surprise me all over again! And other times you play something just like I would've done, and I think, 'That's my boy!' Our guitar fits us just right too. Know why? Look..."

Héctor held up a hand encouragingly, almost as if he was offering a high five. Miguel hesitated, then reached up to place his hand against the skeletal one. The width of their palms and the spread of their long fingers matched perfectly.

"She knows us by our hands," Héctor said, soft and sincere. "And she sings for you. It's hard to describe how proud I feel when I hear you play my music, mijo. And there aren't words big enough for how I feel when I hear you play yours."

Miguel was tearing up again as their hands dropped, but this time it wasn't from disappointment.

"I see plenty of me in you, mijo." Héctor was smiling like he'd never stop. "Probably more than is healthy. You know how much trouble I can get into. Every Día de Muertos your grandmas and aunts all gather 'round with the living Rivera ladies for all the latest gossip, and there's always talk of Miguel's mischief..."

Miguel blushed and groaned and leaned his face into his grandfather's shoulder.

Héctor just laughed. "And every time, there's Imelda throwing up her hands and looking like she wants to throw a shoe at me, 'Ay, Dios mío, another thing again! He's just like you, this is all your fault!'"

The imitation of Imelda's inflections was spot-on and Miguel couldn't help snickering. "I'm not that bad."

"I don't think I am either, but an entire hacienda of Riveras probably aren't wrong." His grandfather squeezed his shoulder again, his voice hiding a note that trembled with emotion. "I don't mind hearing it again and again, mijo. I think I could burst, every time someone says you're just like me. You're my Chamaco, and I'm so proud of you."

Miguel stayed where he was, leaning on a bony shoulder that somehow seemed so warm and solid. "Gracias, Papá Héctor. I'm proud you're my grandpa too. I just...didn't want to disappoint you."

"Hey, none of that nonsense talk!" Héctor drew away enough to turn and look Miguel in the eye, serious. "Didn't I just get done telling you? Who you look like isn't gonna disappoint me. In fact, do you know what I wished for when I was your age?"

Miguel gulped and shook his head, startled at the stern turn of the conversation. It wasn't often his great-great-grandfather would talk about his early life or marriage, and when he did Miguel knew it was serious.

"I was married to the most beautiful woman in the world," Héctor told him, not breaking his gaze, "and what I dreamed of was a house full of babies who looked just like her, as many as she wanted to give me. I wanted to make a family with the woman I love, because I'd never had the chance for a family before."

Héctor's expression softened again, hands coming up to gently cup his grandson's face. "And you, mijo, are a child who looks just like her. You're...a dream come to life, just like Coco. When I look at you, I see a reflection of one of the most precious people in my world. I'm so proud that you're like me in so many ways. But I love that you look just like your Mamá Imelda."

Bony thumbs softly brushed away the tears on Miguel's cheeks. "I love how much you're like her. Your looks and your stubborn and your courage and the way you just...fill up the entire space with your presence and your laugh and your music and...everything. So don't ever think I'm disappointed in how you turned out. You're the best of my Imelda and me. You're ours, and that's all that matters."

A moment later, Miguel was hugging his grandfather again, clinging tight. Papá Héctor always knew the right things to say to chase away his fears and soothe his doubts. The knot of disappointment and defeat that lingered in his stomach had finally begun to ease with Héctor's adamant acceptance. For the first time in months—maybe more than a year—he didn't feel sad at the thought of looking in a mirror. Maybe he wouldn't see his grandfather in his reflection, as he'd wanted...but he would see someone Héctor loved more than life.

Two someones.

"Hey, it's okay," Héctor was murmuring, low and soothing, gently rubbing his back. "It's okay. Not so big just yet, eh? Still my Chamaco for a little longer..."

"Always," Miguel insisted thickly, trying not to sniffle aloud. He was too old for crying, and here he was fighting off a tear-fest!

They stayed like that for a while, until Miguel's breaths were steadier and Héctor could let him go with a broad, encouraging grin like it was no matter at all to let a teenager not-cry all over his jacket. "Better?"

Miguel nodded, swiping at his eyes with a shirt sleeve. "I'm sorry...it's such a dumb thing to get upset over..."

"You know what? I'm flattered there's someone who actually wants to look like this homely scarecrow," Héctor chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Not dumb, mijo. Very thoughtful, very kind. But don't worry about it, okay?"

"You're not ugly," Miguel insisted with a frown, "you're Héctor."

Jaw dropped, his grandfather stared at him for long moments before his sunburst grin returned with a rush of laughter. "Ahh, you are just like her! Don't ever change, okay?"

"I'll do my best. Gracias, Papá Héctor," Miguel said softly, sincerely. "For everything. You...when you...that you're...it...it means a lot to me."

"Always, mijo." The warmth in his eyes told Miguel that he meant it.

Silly, playful, slippery Papá Héctor fought to keep his promises beyond death.

"So! Now that we've caught up..." Héctor rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I saw you bring your notebook. What've you got to share tonight, Chamaco?"

Miguel slid off the bench to fetch the well-loved notebook. "It's not much. Just some more of the usual sort of songs. But there's one I'm trying to get the bridge to sound right, and it's just not coming out. It's good, but it's just...meh, you know?"

"Okay. You want some help from beyond the grave?" Héctor grinned as his grandson sat back down next to him. "You know I'm going to insist on royalties for ghost writing."

"Oooh, you've been waiting all year to whip that one out, haven't you." Miguel's grin was identical as he opened the notebook. "Here—if you think you're up to it, oh wise elder. Wouldn't want you to strain something."

Héctor cracked his knuckles and sniffed. "Psh! Hold my tequila, niñito, I'll show you how it's done."

Then they were both laughing easily and fondly as Miguel showed his grandfather the difficult point in his new song and Héctor gently nudged and guided and taught, the language of music flowing effortlessly back and forth between them. Together they began to build a bridge of harmony, two dark heads bent together over the shared passion that shaped their bond but could never truly encompass it.

The song came so much easier now that Miguel no longer dreaded his reflection.

the end

I'm so bad at ending things! It shows doesn't it?

Mostly because I feel like stories never truly end. It's just...this little window we're peering through closes, but the life we're glimpsing beyond it will keep going, whether or not we're watching.

I'm not using very much Spanish, I know, because I'm really bad at Spanish and I'd rather not use it than use it too much and do it incorrectly. I am one of a very few people in my vicinity who did not take Spanish in high school. I tried French, actually, and it did not go well—but that's a story for another time. ^_^;;;

I hope you've enjoyed this little story!

#Miguel looking like a mini male Imelda isn't my headcanon but it's very cool to explore #Héctor is such a dad #you cannot convince me he wouldn't be one of those sappy parents #who is always proud and always sporting a camera #He loves all his kids #and wants all of them to know it #He'd be a scrapbook dad I bet #regardless of artistic talent #kid art plastering the fridge #family pictures covering the walls #and bragging to everybody about every little thing the kids have done #I don't think Miguel is cheating on writing his music!#it's making use of all available resources #Papá Héctor doesn't mind helping and is a great creative resource #Miguel isn't stealing he's learning from/inspired by #And it's something they love doing #and can spend bonding time together #It's only one night a year I'll let them have their fun #coco fanfic #coco spoilers

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