#AND AS MUCH AS I LOVE I AM SAD (BOO HOO) I FEEL LIKE THE OTHER FIT BETTER TO THE PAIR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lololollywrites · 2 years

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Step. Jump. Leap. Step.

Just wanted to do a little throwback and reblog my first flash Friday challenge, which I posted last September. I immediately realized that the prompt - Leap of faith - fit exceptionally well into my existing two-work series “Earthly Pomp (is But a Dream)” as a short prequel, from John’s perspective. Here it is in its entirety below, but you can also read it on AO3 HERE.

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Fuck.

He won’t want this. He doesn’t want me. He can’t possibly. I don’t want me anymore, for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t be… here if not for Rosie. Well, probably. I’ve not had the bollocks yet to ever go that far, despite having considered it at various stages in my life. Melodrama. Overreacting. Woe is me, huh? What a mess. Ella’s told me otherwise, of course. Sherlock too, though a swollen lip. Trauma. Grief. Blah blah blah. Boo bloody hoo. Plenty of men have been to war and managed not to extend their misery unto others. Granted, quite a lot more… unusual trauma followed afterwards, but there are no excuses. Eurus as my therapist or no. And here I am, trying to do it again. To force my presence. Why has Sherlock put up with me as long as he has? What could possibly redeem me at this point?

He looks so sad whenever I leave. At least I think he does. I’ve been trying to look back over my shoulder whenever I turn my back on him these days.

He bought rounded furniture after the explosion. I’d thought he’d opt for perfect replicas from before, but… no.

Rounded corners.

Baby safe.

He cleans. Before I come, now.

He bought Rosie a puzzle of the periodic table for no particular reason three days ago. About four years beyond her capabilities, yes, but his eyes shone with eager excitement as he shyly handed it over.

She loves to gnaw on the blue cardboard ‘S’ for Sulfur.

For Sherlock.

Jesus.

The black hole looms up ahead. I count my steps and try to align them with my breaths. Perhaps I’ll float when I jump in, like the freeing antigravity of outer space. Or perhaps I’ll fall, like a medieval castle oubliette. With spikes at the bottom.

Faith, John.

Whichever the outcome, there’s no choice. I’m drowning now. Utterly alone. A bit of myself is left behind whenever I step down from that seventeenth step, one more task removed from the post-explosion flat recovery checklist that’s kept me tethered to Baker Street. Not much is left now. And what then? What excuse will I have to return?

No. I have to jump.

I know him. I do. I’ve recently remembered that I’ve always known him.

I’d forgotten, for a while.

I don’t think he ever has. I think he’s been waiting for me.

I hope he’s been waiting.

The thought makes me indescribably sad for him, but the hope is all I have.

I think he’ll have me. Even if just for Rosie’s sake. I’m a shit father alone. I can’t trust myself. There’s no way he trusts me, either. I see his eyes narrow whenever he greets me; assessing my mental state. My BAL. The level of my temper.

I pat Rosie’s head a bit absently, closing my eyes and sucking in a breath of smoggy London air as I pull her closer toward my chest in her carrier. She screams; tries to escape. It’s just the instinctual response of a toddler to confinement, right? To wanting to get out and explore the city streets. To needing a nappy change. A bit of a kip. Some lunch, soon. It’s nothing about me. It’s not about me. It’s not about me.

Except I often feel like it is.

Before I know it, I’m standing outside of the familiar black door of 221 Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson isn’t home, I know. She’ll still be away with Mr. Chatterjee. They’ve patched things up, much to Sherlock’s chagrin. Something about just never filing divorce paperwork to avoid the headache. I was here just yesterday. I know this. I’m not supposed to be here. We hadn’t scheduled anything.

That’s what we do now. Schedule things.

He won’t be expecting me. I glance upwards – the curtains flutter, then shut again.

I – well. I’m not sure what to make of that, but it’s too late now. I fumble for my key, shushing a still-crying Rosie. My heart is racing.

The door opens. Sherlock stands there. His eyes are slightly wide for a moment, then his expression calms. He looks immaculate, as always.

“John, I wasn’t expecting you. Hello, little Watson.”

Rosie giggles. She giggles. From a right strop.

Suddenly I have no words. Nothing to say. I just… shrug. And Sherlock understands. He smiles, a little mismatched quirk of his lips and a crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home, you know.”

My breath leaves me. I feel like I might cry. I take my leap of faith.

Turns out, it’s only a small step.

#my fics #bbc sherlock #just a little throwback reblog

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notmorbid · 8 months

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good eggs.

dialogue prompts from good eggs by rebecca hardiman.

maybe i've finally gone mad.

what would the golden girls do?

tell me what's happened. i won't judge you.

you are not cute, and your personality is a zero.

dear diary: today i am a sad, sad girl. boo-hoo.

you're exceedingly tough, and outrageously capable.

sounds like you're in the shit.

what did i do to deserve you?

you're an awesome person. never forget that.

i can't possibly describe anything in ten words or less.

tell me something. a secret.

you can't hate dogs.

i'll be nice. promise.

nothing seems real until i share it with you.

you can tell me. whatever it is.

i didn't want to burden you.

maybe we confuse love with loyalty.

the shouting woke me up.

i'm dying for a story.

i'm flattered you even know my name.

how's the wine stash?

i'm not shy, and i'm not an idiot.

i'm like a kid again.

i don't know my next move, but i know to move.

you shouldn't be hitchhiking, you know.

you're safe with me, i can tell you. with a capital s.

they can't prove a thing.

your phone's been blowing up.

did i make it up?

we'll be civil, if not cordial.

i know you wouldn't hurt anyone.

i need to tell you so much.

you're not such a bad egg.

it was a terrible fuckup, but your intentions weren't cruel.

i wish you were here.

you are the bee's knees.

these circumstances are off the charts.

i don't know if i can do this alone.

you look fearless.

you're just like your dad.

i've done something really wicked.

i could eat the head off you.

this whole place feels forgotten.

how much more ruined could it be?

were you just smoking in there?

this is probably against my better judgment.

is that blood or ketchup?

i've been to this particular rodeo.

my comfort zone is pure stress.

you're supposed to be the parent in charge.

you're so fucking sanctimonious.

i'm afraid you've reached your cliché quota for the day.

just tell me you're okay.

i know your heart, and there isn't any cruelty in it.

i thought you were upset with me.

tell me what your home is like. describe it.

you said the 'f' word.

you really are batshit. you know that?

you have no idea how lucky you are.

i may be old, but i'm not dead.

i don't remember the last time i said 'i love you'. or even 'thank you'.

are you happy? sad? relieved? all of the above?

you're very bossy.

#rp meme #rp memes #ask memes #inbox memes #families #ask meme

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k-rui · 10 months

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i hate being aromantic so much

no i dont

i love being queer actually

for the most part atleast

just

being aromantic just feels so

abnormal???

and i hate it

i hate seeing happy couples

i hate seeing my friends fall in love

i hate how its so hard for me to feel a normal human emotion

i hate how people feel so happy with those feelings

will i ever feel like that?

i hope so

all my friends will fall in love

and find their special someone or whatever

i dont want to be left behind

whos gonna be there with me

when everyone goes off chasing after their stupid romances

i dont think romance is stupid

i want it so so fucking badly

every happy story i read you know how it ends???

the main character has a love interest that brightens their world and helps them through their troubles

how am i supposed to do that without feeling romance????????

i just

urgh

something feels wrong with me

in so many ways

ok im done with the boo hoo sad talk never expect this shit from me again

#rant #i think #aromantic #aromantism #fellow aromantics should listen to falling behind by laufey (trust)#kei blabbering

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glethglethgleth · 4 months

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my bed doesnt feel as safe as it used to

the monsters under the bed have stopped minding their manners and are slowly moving their way closer and closer to me

i actually have like

another bed in this house

and swear to god

its the only one i ever sleep good in

mine just, sucks. its cold. its mean. its unwelcoming.

that one isn't much better but its a place to be when i don't feel at home in mine anymore.

i really wish i could sleep well

its like 12:47 am and i have to be up at fucking 7

and im all sad and oh woe is me someone i love blocked me boo hoo who cares

go listen to radiohead about it faggot

i dont really allow myself space to be sad

everytime something bad happens to me i immedientally text like 36 people about it to complain to the point where i get so tired of talking about it that it doesn't phase me anymore

which is fine i guess but probably not good for me

i want to sleep well alone

#vent post #consider this a poem #i guess #fuck you

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storiesbyjes2g · 2 years

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I woke up sad on our last morning in Mt. Komorebi. Not boo hoo sad, but just feeling a bit blah. As much as I have enjoyed making memories with my children, and even reconnecting with Ali, I missed sleeping in my own bed, my dog, my work, and my man. He missed me too and sent me a text saying he can't wait to see me. I never have to doubt his feelings for me because he showers me constantly with them. It's weird. I've been married before, but this is the first time I've ever really dated someone. Even though I have many regrets, I'm glad I get to have this experience now. I've always been the one to chase the guy and steer the relationship. It's kinda nice to not have to do that.

I went downstairs immediately and prepared breakfast so everyone could fuel up for the big slopes. Luca joined me in the kitchen, already dressed and ready for the day. I guess my mood was showing because he asked if I was okay. I said I was just ready to go home.

Nosy Emmy reared her messy head and asked about his friend at the lounge, but Cool Hand Luca remained vague. I asked if he saw her again. He said no. I asked if they were going to keep in touch. He said maybe. I asked if he liked her. He said, "she's cool." I took the hint and stopped asking questions. Whenever there's something to tell, he'll tell me, I hope.

Alessia wanted to have her birthday before we headed out, so once everyone was dressed and ready to go, I brought out the cake and we made a great ruckus for her.

And just like that, all my babies are grown. What fine young adults they are! I hope the world is ready for them because I know they will leave their mark in their own ways, and I am already proud! I can't wait to see what my baby girl gets into.

It was a very cloudy day, so it got dark much sooner than we expected and I wasn't sure how I felt about barreling down the mountain in the dark. But this was our agenda, and I didn't want to be a flake, so I got out there and did my best. Snowboarding was more my speed. Or, at least, I could concentrate better on keeping one stick balanced versus two. I wouldn't say it's my thing now, but it was a nice experience. And I will not return home with a broken hip.

At some point, I had my fill of adrenaline. But Luca and Alessia kept going, round after round, trying to perfect their technique. I felt like such a mom, standing at the bottom of the mountain, waving at them and cheering as they returned. I may or may not have also taken a few pics and snuck in some video, tee hee. They're totally coming back here soon. Alessia already put the bug in my ear, and I can see Luca getting into extreme sports. Whether or not they invite me is the big questions, heh.

Ali decided not to join us on the slopes. I hope it's just because he's not interested and not because he's still tripping about his weight. Maybe he just needed some alone time to relax and get himself together before getting back to work. But I fear he's having a moment like I had yesterday, though. I know this is totally selfish, but I hope he's healed enough to not let his thoughts drive a wedge between us again. I feel like we made big progress this weekend. Things don't have to be tense or awkward. We can have love for each other from a respectful distance and still be a family. Just not in the traditional sense. But it's different for him, I know. As we enter this new season of not having the kids to keep us in each other's lives, I hope he doesn't cut me completely out.

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #sims story #adolting #adolting gen 2 #Emerald Pope #Luca Winston Murillo #Alessia Amina Murillo #Ali Murillo

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eliza1911o1 · 2 years

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Rant about Heroes of Olympus because as a sequel series to Percy Jackson it pains me pt. 1

So I just reread the PJO (one of my all time favorite series) and HoO series and I’m just struck by how unfulfilled I feel after finally finishing BoO for the first time…

I didn’t read it when I was younger because it came out just as I got really busy in school and was growing out of my “reading phase” and before I knew I had ADHD/attention struggles

I know I’m older and they’re aimed at young audiences and a bit outdated in general now but the original Percy Jackson and the Olympians series is still amazing. No contest. It may have plot holes, it may be lacking in some areas like representation, but everything has flaws and all of those are just so easy to get over with such heartwarming characters and carefully crafted quests. Not to mention the high stakes and actually pretty realistic struggles??? I’m probably biased, but I just really love them and am not above fighting others if they put it down

But even after realizing both series are kids books, the plot valleys (not just pothole level inconsistencies), OOC moments, anticlimactic ending, general lack of dynamic characters and lasting themes, and lacking world building all prove HoO to be underwhelming compared to PJO. Like it’s not bad, but it’s not close to perfect either. It’s even hard to argue how most of the events and characters in HoO add and further the stories of PJO, let alone why to consider all of it as sacred canon. Especially by the end of BoO, the lackluster vibe overall was really disheartening

They aren’t bad books. I just don’t think they lived up to the heart of PJO. I didn’t feel like I was reading more about characters I love or learning about great new characters and settings or invested in why this battle against Gaia will be the greatest of all time. Instead, I my brain was caught trying to convince myself why all of that was true and I was blatantly put off by some of the story directions, which made me feel incredibly sad

Again, it’s a fun read. Not considering any sort of literary analysis or strong personal opinion and taking into account the intended audience, it meets expectations. I just feel like the original series did so much more than be average and I’m just grasping at straws here because HoO had potential to do the same

Anyway, here are some of my strongest complaints with brief explanation and in no particular order:

- where were the old characters??? Grover?? WHERE WAS GROVER??????

- Percy was very underplayed in BoO for no reason; even if you consider his time in Tartarus, he was very weak compared to SoN and it wasn’t really explained, which felt lazy. They should’ve let him rest if he wasn’t up to fighting

- mental health issues were brought up but skirted by (Nico’s coming out was awful, Percy’s suicidal thoughts weren’t really addressed seriously (that’s a whole nother post), Hazel’s literally having died once)

- Too. Much. Romance. Why did everyone need to be a couple?????

- same structure as PJO, but without any reinvention (TLT and TLH had almost the same beginning)

- povs past SoN had weird distribution; I don’t think it made sense HoH had all seven povs but the final book, BoO, didn’t

- what made Jason, Piper, and Leo more special than any of the other seven? The explanation that they began everything felt lazy and discredited Frank and Hazel….

- Reyna and Nico and even Coach Hedge held a lot of importance in the plot and it felt weird since they weren’t even part of the seven. Distribution of responsibility and the idea of seven great heroes saving stuff (even if it was ironic) was downplayed

- the seven never really felt like a team or had a moment where it seemed like all of them were vital to make things work. The splitting up into smaller groups all the time definitely worsened this

- why was New Rome a whole mini country when CHB is a literal camp… the world building was quite slapdash and felt unreastic

- no developed Roman side characters really; wish Dakota, Lou Ellen, and others had more importance and interest

- Percy came back to NYC (to CHB) and no one said anything? No Sally-Percy reunion? No Grover-Percy reunion? No campers cheering for Percy to be back?

- last minute Solangelo; they should’ve had some sort of interest to sudden love/slow burn/opposites attract relationship with proper time to develop

- issue of Greeks vs. Roman felt sort of weak and their sudden cohesion at the end felt too forced (how is one statue gonna fix eeeeeeverything)

- final battle was awful. No words. Giants easily killed, Greeks and Romans united in a minute, Gaia contained in a little storm immediately after waking and killed like no biggie

- minimal lasting damage or deaths (Leo’s death…. Don’t even get me started)

- BoO and later books ruined Leo’s character and made him seem selfish, unaware, and rude

- Annabeth and Percy being captured immediately by the giant princess in BoO; you think they escaped Tartarus for the ending to be THAT

- Frank’s whole situation; firewood and the whole idea of life being fragile felt pretty useless by the end when nothing could touch him

- weak usage of prophecy — I feel like the oracle being dead at the end was a sign for everyone to live without forced guidance, which was a big deal in PJO, but the point wasn’t really made and it felt like he just didn’t want to come up with more. Also, it felt like lines were added randomly to the prophecy of seven but we never hear everything together??? The prophecy felt cheap and forced with how everything played out

- no issues with Percy and Annabeth going to New Rome for college, but they’d be that quick to abandon their home in NYC? I get the trauma associated with it, but there was nothing that made it seem right for them to think the trauma was enough to leave everything… lowkey wanted Annabeth to go to Columbia or Barnard or NYU and be fixing up CHB to house adults or have a veteran demigod network

- cutting off character development and interactions. A lot of the characters were used to further others (Jason furthering Nico’s in BoO) or never even talked to each other (Percy and Piper). There wasn’t much growth in the last couple books even though it was very clear in the beginning ones (Frank is an obvious example) and more importantly, there was a supreme lack of resolution in their stories. Especially Percy and Annabeth, who went to hell and back, we never feel like they suffered for a reason or needed to be the ones to suffer or the suffering changed them for better or worse or any other real indication I should accept the ending

- no backlash on the gods. At all. Percy, like many others throughout PJO and HoO, is struggling to respect the gods, let alone continue being used by them. And in HoO, the gods are USELESS. They do literally n.o.t.h.i.n.g. They have one fight scene and when we have Jason’s equivalent to the asking for childcare scene of TLO, Zeus responds and his backbone breaks. The only consequence was Apollo being demoted but that honestly felt like a marketing scheme knowing ToA

- lots more but I’ll stop myself here

(Btw I did not read it because of the show lol though I am glad I did so I’m ready for it)

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joonberriess · 8 months

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My best friend is currently not talking to me because I told them I’m selling my bts collection and leaving stan twt 🙃 I’m a 2020 army and it makes me sad to see these items go, but I have a lot going on in my life. And selling my collection is going to help me a ton. I can’t keep up with the boys how I used to. I’m still going to support them of course. I love them with all my heart and that’ll never change. I told them that this is honestly the best decision for me. I was on stan twt and insta for about a year but took tons of breaks. I ended up disabling those accounts because of how overwhelming it was. When they found out, they chewed me out. They told me that I wasn’t and was never a real fan. That shocked me so much bc those men have helped me so much during these short three years. I’ve been getting the cold shoulder for the past two weeks and when we do talk they snap on me. We’ve been friends for 10 years but now I feel like our friendship is strained bc of this. Am I being dramatic when I say I feel hurt by this?

it sounds like ur friend is too invested and needs to touch some grass bc it is NEVER that serious 😭 ur not doing it for no reason like you got stuff going on in ur life and ur friend needs to understand that ur life doesn’t revolve around bts and that u stanning them isn’t going to magically like make all ur irl problems disappear. do what’s best for you at the end of the day it’s not like ur offending anyone lmao they wanna act like little bitches about it then boo hoo bitch bye, ditch their asses bc they just showed you their true colors sis. i wish you the best in your situation! also hope you get urself nicer friends ❤️ ps ur not in the wrong nor over reacting!

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catboyyukineapologist · 2 years

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NORAGAMI CH 100 THOUGHTS

guys I'm crying I'm genuinely crying actual tears. I was gonna make a "surprise, bitch. I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me" joke but it's no time to jokE. TOO MUCH IS HAPPENING.

And as a lot of people saw coming this appears to be the final arc🥲 it's sad but I'm glad that the story seems to have been allowed to run its natural course and adachitoka got to tell the story they wanted to tell (and boy, what a story). Bittersweet, but let's all enjoy this final arc together! I'm terrified!! What on earth is going to happen!!! How do all the loose ends get tied up????

anyway we're here and I am back on my bullshit under the cut...! Be warned: This is a long one.

(I went off about Father and his children again please someone take the keyboard away from me)

Sakura is the tree of spring, huh?

as you may imagine I AM UNWELL

fast-moon dropped this one while I was on a date and when I saw that notification I had to stop, process it and explain to my date what was going on because that is how much despair it caused me. (And I hadn't even read the damn thing yet)

Why is it only now clicking for me that there is a CLEAR OBVIOUS MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIP between the names Yuki / Haru / Sakura.

Smarter people than I probably have and will speak more (and better) on everything going on with names and wordplay and Yato fighting and being nearly killed by Yuuki on the same hill where he buried his body and letters, but I will just say that it hurts and it made me cry ambiguous, confusing, sad-happy tears.

That entire section looked so pretty and Yato and Yuki looked so tiny and I'm just🥺

Yato with the GRAVE TALK. He is dangerously close to fucking around and finding out. (O como decimos en mi rancho, a dos de acabar muerto por jugarle al vergas)

SHIIGUN IS BACK BABY BOY IS HERE I LOVE HIM LOOK AT HIM GO

why are those dragon ayakashi so cute i want to keep the tiny one as a pet.

BISHA

SHE

WHEN SHE AT THE

WHEN SHE

Nyappy's Kuraha theory is gnawing at the edges of my sanity again it would seem (please will someone bully me into finishing that damn ficlet wip before the manga literally ends)

"The same as me not wanting to use Kazuma" Oh boy. Oh man. Oh honey you got a big storm coming.

OH NO NOT IMMEDIATELY

Kinuha beloved I missed her<3

Kitty cat. Kuraha prefers to be a lion than a human confirmed.

Ah yes, finally some good, old-fashioned, straightforward punches directly to the gut. (also that panel is just beautiful, man)

Oh don't come now with the "you'we impowtant two me" shut the FUCK up, old man. Boo fucking hoo your child you abused doesn't love you:( too bad so sad suck it up worstie<3

Ok now that that's out of the way. He makes a valid point- from his point of view, at least. From what we have seen of his backstory, Yato was created by a wish born of his deep feelings of injustice, of being left behind to die by the world and the gods ("You were my prayer"). TO him, Yato has always been a tool he had a right to, he deserved, to "cull the herd", to take back the power he believed was for him and taken away. Yato was Father's lifeline in a similar fashion as Father was his. He was his precious means of justice until he wasn't anymore. And he loved him in the same sick and twisted way he loves Mizuchi for very similar reasons. Again from what we know up until now, I fear it might be all he knows, love for someone as a means to an end; but I'm afraid we just won't know that until we learn more about his relationship to Kaya (vibrating with excitement As We Speak).

Oh no. Ohhh no. There is so much to unpack from Nora and Kazuma at the end oh NO.

Hey yeah remember that old theory I had that got debunked a bunch in the last couple of years where I talked about hafuri being immune to GGS and roped Kazuma into my examples? well lookie here guess we'll find out sooner rather than later won't we? :)

I mean, Kazu is like double-sealed though so it should be fine, right?

Right, guys?

Nora baby honey child PLEASE I'm so sorry you have been made to feel this way. It hurts my heart that it's all she knows as well. She only knows how to be a tool, and that's the entire meaning of her life- the only way she understands love, just like Father. Her father gave her a name and a purpose, and that is the most important thing to her; she will go to the ends of the earth and betray everyone and everything else because that's her father. He basically made her. But child, please, that's not it:( I want her to go back to Hiyori and learn what unconditional care and love is please:(( Get yourself an older sister like Yuki did I prommy there's more to existing than just being used and thrown away every time:(((

So yeah! i leave you with your monthly(!) reminder that trash dad is uh. huh. maybe leave father and son be for the time being actually they seem to have some issues to figure out.

#noragami #noragami 100 #yato #nora #once again sorry if this makes 0 sense i passed out for an hour and it was done #but hey! i'm back and better than ever! ... I think!#the spanish bit says the same as the english part of the bullet dw about it #Every chapter brings me closer and closer to the side of the Father apologists and I don't like it (/hj)#but also I kind of love it his whole character is extremely appealing like. as a person he's a piece of shit but as a character?#*chef's kiss*#poor little meow meow material. I want to study him i want to poke around inside his head #so many thoughts so many feelings #yes you read correctly i have a ficlet wip I need wrung out of me like water from a rag because I really like the idea #kuraha theory my beloved #shoutout to nanna for being big brain #if u see this- didn't know if i should tag you but lmk if you want me to it just made me really anxious sorry💀#chapter reaction #chapter thoughts #lextpost #noragami spoilers

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cloudbattrolls · 1 year

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Might Makes Wrong

Gliese Benral | Benral Hedge Maze | Present Night

Gliese, for all her tendency to snarl and slash at anything that threatened her, could be patient.

The blueblood could send her new necromantic constructs - far more hardy and mobile than her first ones, which had come apart with one good kick and and moved at a snail’s pace - out to patrol the corners of her hedge maze and report back to her. Creations of bone, magically improved dead flesh, and plants, they served her well.

She could have them trap a zombie, entangling her in thorny vines.

Gliese rode up to the struggling, flailing undead on her lusus, the psychic wearing a hard and satisfied grin.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here. The world’s shittiest undead. Any last words, chickie?”

Zeller looked at her with genuine fear in her mismatched eyes, her large ears pinned back.

“I don’t - I haven’t come close in weeks, love, what’s this about? I’ve hardly even seen Shedir lately…”

She sounded sad about it. Boo fucking hoo.

“Who cares?” Drawled the cuspy cerulean. “You’re here now, this is still my territory. I knew if I just waited a few weeks, your ugly mug would pop up again. Anyway, time to die, unless you do have some last words.”

“Wait!” said the woman, panicked. “I - I promise I was coming to tell you something helpful. About the mannequins.”

The hare troll’s eyebrows raised and she shifted her position on her lusus. The giant saber-toothed hare, despite his more limited expressions, looked just as dismissive as his charge. One lapine ear flicked idly as his daughter considered her captive’s words.

“Why?” Asked Gliese bluntly. “Why would you fucking bother? You know I want to kill you, and now I can, no matter what regeneration you have. As far as I’m concerned, I’m doing everyone a favor, especially me.” Her nose wrinkled as she recalled the undead’s attempts to flirt with her. Fucking gross.

“Please.” begged Zeller, some trace of an almost-familiar accent creeping back into her voice instead of the apparently false one she’d been using. What a dipshit poser.

“Please, the mannequins…you don’t understand how bad it is…you haven’t even been looking into it, have you? That other undead you were so busy with, oh my…I could feel him. Feel his power. A beacon…well, they’re like the hands of a beacon, but I scarce understand why or how.”

“Fuck’s sake, don’t be so cryptic.” Said the blueblood impatiently. “I don’t have all night. Really doing a shit job of convincing me to spare you.”

The plant zombies’ thorny vines gripped the lanky woman tighter and she cried out in pain.

“I’m not - not trying to be!” She said, almost sobbing. “It’s all terribly - augh - terribly tangled! I have trouble following it m-myself! P-please, just loosen…ack…l-loosen them a little…there’s a good girl…”

“Barf.” Said Gliese in disdain, but did so with a flick of her magic, a few blue lights swirling with the usual steady orange glow of her eyes.

“Thank you.” wheezed the zombie, her fancy clothing now mangled and shredded. “You really are…quite the stunner! Ha ha…I don’t mean that like I used to…no, you remind me of him…except better to look at, hahaha…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re crazy, I get it, now get to the point.” Snapped the highblood.

“Am I so daft? I guess I am…well, who wouldn’t be…I think I’ve earned a little daftness, for little old me. Little old Zeller had to see trolls dragged away…learned the hard way it was nearly her, for once it was lucky I got my kill stolen! Oh, they like suffering, I think…suffering without cause…screaming and struggling. They remind me of him too…” She trailed off, staring into the hedges.

“Maybe if I had been more like him, I’d have lived! Hm. Or maybe I’d have died…there must have been others who died, it’s been so long, and Tuuya is so much older than me, I hear…”

Zeller said the worm swarm’s name in a strange way; half longing, half jealousy, with a craving that had an ache to it.

Gliese’s glowing eyes narrowed.

“Okay, I really shouldn’t give a fuck, and I will probably regret asking, but what the hell is your deal with them? You don’t seem to have met them but you’re fucking obsessed. Why?”

The stitched-up undead gave a strange and terrible sad needle smile broken only by a small pair of buckteeth. Her short wavy hair was all askew from her rough treatment.

“Well, dearie, you could say we’re connected.”

Wait. She had teeth like - ears like - hair like - regenerated from fire like -

“Oh holy fuck.” Breathed the blueblood. “No way.”

Zeller nodded as enthusiastically as she could while trapped by vines.

“God.” Gliese groaned. “I knew I’d regret asking because now I want to know. Now I have to let your dumb ass live a little longer.”

“Ehehehehee…” Zeller laughed giddily and slightly hysterically. “Hooked, hm? Like a little fish? Yes, yes, you’re right…but don’t think I’m the first. No, not me. I was the second…worse luck. The first was him.” She said, and her voice became dead and grim.

“Him…I won’t speak his name. Maybe Tuuya has said it…let it grime their lips and tongue…I never will again. I didn’t want the face he gave me either, so I changed it, changed the horns too…oh, it helped not an ounce, it didn’t…not when he came calling.” Her voice wobbled with fear and weariness.

“Yeah that’s super sad.” Drawled Gliese uncaringly. “I’m guessing that was your ancestor? Tuuya’s never mentioned anything about theirs, so I’m still in the dark.”

“Good.” Murmured the undead. “Good…let his name die, like he must have if they are free…yes, my ancestor and theirs. The Lifeweaver. Ha! Should have called him Deathbringer…but he failed after all, because I came back! I came back…” her voice trailed off and she scratched at her neck stitches.

“Yaaaaaaay.” Said Gliese in the most sarcastic deadpan. “Hey, question. How come you’re not worms like they are?”

“Because I was a failure, love.” Said Zeller with a croaky little laugh. “The genetics all wrong…the integration a cock-eyed mess…I lived! I ran away…I had never really wanted it.” She gave a hiccupy little laugh, then shivered.

“He dragged me back to finish it anyway…that’s when it happened. Slept so long, no one was left when I woke…no one except the empire nosing around my cavern. Well, they weren’t nosing for long.”

She had a gleeful, hungry look in her eyes that reminded Gliese why she had to kill this piece of trash.

“Cool story! You won’t get to tell it again.” Commented the blueblood, commanding her own zombies to crush the disgusting undead.

Zeller screamed and begged, but it wasn’t the jadeblood’s pleas that stopped the vines from further tearing her body apart.

Gliese simply hesitated to throw away a potentially useful tool.

Yes, she could make good constructs now, but she wasn’t quite at the level of making sapient ones. Plus, it would be shitty to ask someone alive, someone who actually mattered, to endanger themself trying to investigate this thing.

If anything happened to Zeller, who gave a damn?

“Okay, here’s how it’s going to go, so listen the fuck up.” She said, intent.

The zombie swallowed and nodded. Many of her stitches had burst or ripped and were oozing grayish jade blood, her limbs holding on by shreds that were slowly beginning to weave back together.

Not nearly as fast as Tuuya could, the psychic noted. Zeller really was just a clumsy prototype. No wonder the flamethrower had stopped her for weeks, though sadly not killed her.

“You’re going to only feed on whatever dead people you can find. No killing to eat. I’ll be putting a sensor on you so I’ll know if you do.” She said, eyes narrowed.

“You’re going to find out as much as you can about these mannequins and report back to me. I want it written up, too. We’re keeping records, we’re doing this right. Put a single fucking toe out of line, say any more gross shit to me, and I’m going to find out just how good your regeneration is.” Said the hare troll, soft and deadly.

“O-of course, miss.” Croaked the zombie, ears fully down and flattened against her head.

“Cool, glad we got that sorted out.” Said the psychic casually, almost pleasantly.

The spiky vines slowly released the undead, retracting into the constructs who had captured and held her.

Gliese snorted in amusement at the bedraggled, woebegone zombie trying to put herself back together with shaking limbs as she hopped off her lusus.

She took a few steps toward Zeller and prepared to cast the sensor spell.

The constructs’ vines reached in again with a cerulean haze of magic and the jadeblood flinched, but they didn’t wrap around her this time. Instead a pair of them wrapped around her mangled wrist, their ends weaving something together, and then withdrew.

A blue flower - a forget-me-not on its own slender vine - now circled the undead’s flesh.

“Don’t think you can destroy it.” Said Gliese with a dark chuckle. “Or take it off. That thing’s magic and it’ll outlast even you. It feeds on the remains of your own meals, that’s how I’ll know if you try any shit. And if you do…”

She looked meaningfully at the zombie’s slowly regenerating arms, riddled with puncture wounds.

Zeller nodded, still shaky.

Gliese didn’t bother with a final remark. The psychic merely climbed back on her lusus, and urged the saber-toothed hare to turn around and take her hive.

#gliese benral #zeller #cloud writes #I think that went well. just girly things.#somewhere tuuya feels a disturbance in the force

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hahahahahangst · 9 months

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Anyone who knows what love is (Be The Young 39)

TW: [suicidal thoughts, self h*rm, violence, s*xual assault]

Other tags: [sister fic, canon-level violence, dean is an asshole, angst]

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will occasionally break canon✨ .

Summary: Emily Reed, born and raised in Portland, is preparing her admission papers for Stanford, medical school. Little does she know, her life is about to change forever.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N: We're getting to the end of the season!

MASTERLIST

Anyone who knows what love is

You can run around Even put me down Still I'll be there for you The world May think I'm foolish They can't see you Like I can

“Has any of you two been listening to anything I’ve said?” Asked Bobby. Dean was staring out of the window, Emily at the ceiling. Bobby had been talking for about ten minutes: she had not listened much, but enough to know what he’d been talking about.

“Yeah, we heard you.” She muttered.

“And?”

Emily and Dean looked at each other. Emily spoke first. “We’re not calling him.” She went back to staring at the ceiling. She ignored Bobby’s following phrase. However, she heard Dean’s.

“We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?”

“I know you’re pissed-”

Emily cut him off. “That’s reductive.”

“Look-I’m not making apologies, but he’s your-”

“Don’t even try bringing blood into this mess.” Scoffed Emily.

“He’s your brother. And he’s drowning.”

“Bobby, we tried. We told him again and again- He wouldn’t listen.” Emily sat straighter to look at the old man.

“It’s too late.” Added Dean.

“Are you two out of your mind?” Asked Bobby, nervous. Dean paced on the other side of the room.

“No, damnit!” He turned around. “No. We gotta face the facts.” He sighed. “Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again.” Dean sat on a chair that was lying next to him, sad. “Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants.”

“You don't mean that.” Said Bobby.

“Bobby, you weren’t there, you didn’t see- He’s gone. He’s not Sam.” Explained Emily.

“If he ever was.” Exhaled Dean.

All of a sudden, Bobby kicked a table, making all its content fall on the floor. Emily, startled, stood up. Dean did the same.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess!” Mocked the man. “Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!”

“That’s not how family works!” Answered Emily, upset. “And we told him- he walked out, he was choosing Ruby. He walked out, Bobby! He chose!”

“You know who you two sound like?” Asked Bobby. “John Winchester! Let me tell you something about your dad: he was a coward!”

“My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?” Asked Dean. Emily groaned, exasperated.

“He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him.” Explained Bobby. “Well, that don't strike me as brave.”

“Bobby, I don’t give a fuck about what my dad did or didn’t do!” Yelled Emily. “What matters is that Sam is not himself anymore and he- HE CHOSE A FUCKING DEMON OVER US!” She repeated, accusatively pointing at Bobby.

“HE NEEDS HIS SIBLINGS!”

“HE COULD HAVE GOTTEN THEM IF HE WANTED TO!” With one final yell, Emily fell back on the couch. “But he didn’t.” She dried her face. “So now-” She cut herself off.

Dean glared at her. “Now we have to find a way to prevent the apocalypse.” He concluded. In a blink, Dean had disappeared. A couple of seconds later, as she was still processing, Ramiel appeared in the room, apparently in a hurry.

“Cazzo!” He yelled, looking around. “I’m too late, am I?”

”...were you looking for Dean?”

“Yes.” He recollected himself. Emily’s stomach contorted. Damn, he was hot. It seemed unfair to be that attractive in such an emergency.

“Well, he just disappeared.” Emily shook away her thoughts. “Let me guess- It was your people.”

“Oh, Emily, they’re not my people anymore. I’m on the run.” He explained, closing his jacket.

“Meaning?” The girl stood up and reached for her laptop.

“I rebelled, tesoro. I refused to follow their orders.” Said Ramiel.

“Well- Where are they keeping Dean?” Emily opened her laptop and placed it on her knees, looking at the angel. Ramiel didn’t answer. “Miele, I know you know. Just tell me.” Ramiel seemed to break a little when Emily used the nickname on him.

“Sì, sì, you’re right. I do know. But I don’t think it’s wise to go there.”

“Why?”

“Once we get in, they won’t let us out.” He exhaled.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Emily browsed to the phone company website on her laptop. “I’m not gonna sit here and watch the world burn. Ramiel, if we can’t get to Dean, then we need to get to Sam.”

“I don't know where he is. He's protected against my sight.”

Emily looked up at the angel. “If I tell you where he is, can you help me get there?” She asked. The angel seemed set back by her words, but was quick to answer.

“Anything.”

Emily spent the next several hours fighting with the phone company to get Sam’s phone and GPS turned on, to no avail.

“Damn it!” She threw her phone across the room. “I’ve literally run out of numbers to call. We’re not gonna find Sam like this!” She paced back and forth in the room.

Bobby entered the room holding a book. “What if we didn’t go to Sam, but we went directly to Lilith? He said he was close, right?”

“Yeah-” Emily stood straighter, realizing what book he was holding. “You’re right! We found her once with a tracking spell, right?”

“Exactly.” Bobby looked at Emily. “But kid, if you get there and Sam still has to arrive…“

“We’re all dead.” She exhaled and put her hands on her waist. She looked at Ramiel. He was leaning against a wall, distractingly looking at his cufflings. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take.” She touched the angel on his shoulder. He raised his gaze. “Are you in?” Asked Emily. Ramiel nodded and pushed himself away from the wall.

It was almost night again before the spell was ready. Emily was standing next to a window, looking out as if Dean was to pull into the backyard of Bobby’s at any moment. She tried calling him for what was probably the fortieth time. She left another voicemail.

“Dean, I don’t know if you are getting these, but- Wherever you are, me and Ramiel are going after Lilith. I’m gonna put an end to this, okay? Please call me- call me if you’re still alive, okay?” She flipped her phone close and leaned on the cold window glass. She felt someone’s presence behind her. “What, you eavesdropping on my phone calls now, Miele?”

“I’m an angel, I can hear through walls.” Emily, still looking out the window, felt Ramiel get closer and put his hands on her shoulder. They were weirdly warm to belong to a body which had probably died years prior. Ramiel ran his thumbs up and down on Emily’s shoulder.

“The spell is ready. Did you pack everything you need?” He asked. Emily looked over at her backpack, which laid on the floor, still packed with dirty clothes.

“No, but- it’s no use. You know we’ll probably die, right?” She turned towards him and sat on the ledge of the window. “Miele, why are you coming on this suicide mission with me?”

“I like you.” Shrugged Ramiel. “And I don’t want the apocalypse.”

Emily shook her head. “Like me, like me, or… just like me?” She joked. Ramiel looked at her, extremely confused. “Nevermind- you said the spell was ready, right?” The angel nodded and left the room. As he turned away, Emily checked his figure and shrugged, thinking that maybe, if they survived, some angel sex could have been fun.

Emily caught herself thinking about it a little too explicitly.

“I can’t believe I’m about to die and I’m thinking about sex.” She whispered to herself as she entered Bobby’s living room. The man looked at her.

“Pardon me?” He asked, trying to hide a smile.

“Nothing- the spell?” She said, awkwardly gesturing in front of her.

Bobby placed a map under a pendulum, then performed the spell. The pendulum started swinging and eventually stopped on a very precise location. Emily leaned over the table to see better.

“That’s…“ She squinted. “A random empty road in Kansas?” She tried looking closer.

“Well, I doubt Lilith is hiding in a roadhouse.” Said Bobby. “The spell should be precise to the street. Let’s take a closer look at that road.” Bobby turned around and fished another map from a box. He opened it in front of his and Emily and Ramiel walked behind the man to see. “Here.” Bobby pointed to the street. “There’s not much, a convent and a high school.”

“Well, it has to be either one of the other.” Emily walked to her laptop in the other room and brought it back to where the man and Ramiel were waiting. She typed in the name of the convent and started looking for news.

“Got it.” She smiled, proud of herself, after snooping around for a bit, hunched over the now dismantled spell. “In ‘72 the convent was abandoned after a priest killed eight nuns.” She glared at Bobby. “And get this-” She continued. “The priest said a demon named Azazel made him do it.”

“Well, that seems too much of a coincidence to not be the right place.”

Emily didn’t waste another second and stood up, hurriedly grabbing her backpack. Ramiel followed her. He was about to teleport her, but she stopped him. She walked back to Bobby and hugged him. “Thank you.” She said. “I’ll see you- at one point.” He patted her on the back. Emily gestured at Ramiel and in a blink, she was in another room.

Immediately, her mind was overwhelmed by Sam’s thoughts and feelings. She felt a mix of anger and fear. In front of her was Dean, trying to break down a large door, unsuccessfully. When she saw her, he stopped.

“What-” He started to say. She interrupted him immediately, hurrying towards the door.

“Yeah, what are you doing here, this is not safe- whatever, move!” With a hand gesture, she forced the door open.

”...even you have to admit…I'm- I'm awesome!” Ruby's voice said. Emily charged in the room, ready to fight Lilith, but she was too late.

Lilith’s body was already lifeless, slumped on the altar, blood dripping copiously out of it. When she looked back, Ramiel was standing in the middle of the door and Dean was a couple of steps further.

In front of her, instead, were Lilith’s body, Sam, who looked shocked and upset, and Ruby, who instead, was proudly looking around. It took Emily a moment to sort all the things in her brain.

Lilith, dead.

Sam, alive.

Dean, alive.

Ruby, alive.

Everything was alright, but one.

Emily used her powers to slam Ruby into a column.

“Wrong.” Said Emily, walking towards her. “You’re not awesome, you’re fucking dead.”

Emily, s- Sam’s voice echoed in Emily’s head, but she interrupted him by also slamming his body on a wall.

“NOT NOW, SAM! I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!” She let go of Sam’s body, who fell on the ground, struggling, before Emily turned towards Ruby again. The demon was giggling. “You think this is funny?”

“Hilarious.” She smirked. “You made my life so difficult, never keeping that trap shut, but in the end, I won.” She laughed. “I won, demon barbie.”

Emily heard the sound of Dean helping Sam up behind her. Trying not to roll her eyes at it, she kept talking. “Yeah?”

“Sure.” Ruby smiled, proud. “I knew I could not get through to you or Dean, but you know who can? Sam. Oh, he talked you right into trusting me!”

“You poisoned him.” Emily tightened her force, making Ruby wimper. “You turned him into a junkie.” She extracted the demon-killing knife from her jacket. “Last time, we let you walk, Ruby, but this time-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ruby kept her smile. “It’s too late. He’s coming.” She nodded towards Lilith’s blood. It was slowly, but weirdly deliberately, moving into a circle.

“Oh Ruby.” Exhaled Emily. “I’ve been waiting for the moment I get to waste you since you first showed up.” She stabbed Ruby in her chest. The demon tried to scream, but no voice came out. “I don’t care if I’m too late.” Concluded Emily, extracting the knife. She let the body fall on the floor, lifeless, and took a step back. “Now.” She put the knife away and turned towards Sam, who was standing not too far away. He tried to speak, but Emily didn’t let him. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU, UH?!” She walked towards him. “YOU ARE A F-” Dean got a hold of her arms and stopped her. As she was about to cuss him as well, he pointed to Lilith’s blood.

“There’s no time. Let’s get out of here.” Emily turned to where Dean was pointing. Then, she looked for Ramiel, but he was nowhere to be found. The blood had completed the circle and was converging towards the middle, making another smaller circle. The moment the second circle was complete, light started to emanate from the middle of it, flooding the room.

That was it. Lucifer was rising.

“Come on!” Pleaded Dean, grabbing her by one side of her jacket and shoving her towards the door. Emily looked at him, then she looked at Sam. As light almost blinded her, she started running towards the door alongside Dean, but the light soon became too bright and she was overwhelmed by white.

#be the young

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dollking081 · 3 months

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skip this if you want

okay so fuck so hi bit of a ventsies oh no :((((((((((( so fuck so basically *to the tune of that one part in I'm a believer*: AND THEN I KILLED MYSELF

and

lmao okay fuck this is so unserious lmao but like genuinely I just need to fucking type for a bit and send it out to the world because I'm a special frog

I eated today I wish I didn't eated because I'm a

FAT FUCK(tm)

and I feel all icky and I'm scared of gaining weight BUT WHATEVER LMAO I feel like when I'm just typing like this I can like actually like B myself I should do this more lmao so fuck I'm just gonna keep talking till I run out of ideas - leave at any time so fuck uh I feel like I overreact a lot lmao like I'm sensitive - that's my main chr trait but like yk? NEways it just rlly pissed me off that SOMEONE couldn't keep quiet abt a game I'm playing and spoiled what sounded like a rlly interesting plot twist which sucks bcz I don't rlly get to feel much excitement often and it's like my 3 emotions are Happy Sad and Angry and I was really looking forward to playing this game because it looked cool and now it's ruined it for me and I know I should get over it but like,,,,,, LMAO NO getting over it is for LOOOOOOOOSSSSSERRRRRSSSSSSSS but wh8ever my computer sounds like a jet engine it pisses me off lmao so fuck lmao I say so fuck a lot lmao so fuck I quit therapy bcz fuck CAMHS LMAO therapist was super fucking invasive even when I made it loud and clear I didn't wanna talk abt certain subjects(tm) so fuck shit did I mention I hate my body? I should lose weight lmao like a lot of weight lmao like enough weight to kill me lmao okay maybe not that much lmao but I should totally start purging or just eating less lmao

I have some marbles in a bag lmao lmao so fuck how long is this fuckin post lmaoooo lmao so fuck I'm glad y'all don't know my

SUPER SECRET SIDE BLOG(TM)

b8sically that's where I put

The Shit(TM)

I'm kinda in my yandere era over there, it's cringe but though I am cringe, I am free or not, for we are all shackled by capitalism but wh8ever I kinda just post about BOO HOO LOVE ME it's pure emotion compressed into word form (cringe)

mayyyyyyybe I'll put it at the end of one of these if I do another

for only the most dedicated of readers LMAO

I stole a bunch of shit from that therapy place b4 yk I left 4 4evrsies some toys and this shitty game called Scridoodle or wh8evr lmao

I have crippling insomnia and a fear of school and I've lost my motivation and I hate life LMAO

so shit

I'm not gonna kill myself lmao I'm too much of a coward for that plus I'd miss sakkakukukukukukukukukuku(kuku) I'm tired tho I need to work on headspace need to add an aquarium lmao

okie dokies, that's all buh bye, superstars (ugh, I remember when I used to end my posts with that,,,,)

#Under The Cut #<- that's what I'm calling these rants #lmao or whatever

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allthemusic · 7 months

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Week ending: 27 August 1953

Two songs this week, both from completely new artists, although one would turn out to be less new than the title would suggest, in a twist that I'm not sure I appreciated when I realised. Oh, well.

Eternally - Jimmy Young (peaked at No. 8)

I was so excited; we had a new artist, with a song title that I didn't recognise! Yay! Imagine my surprise, then, when a very familiar piano riff kicks us off - it's another version of Terry's Theme from Limelight. You know, the not-particularly-funny-sounding Charlie Chaplin film that the record-buying public were apparently obsessed with in 1953?

To be honest, I'd never heard of this film before I started on this project, and I'm now imagining that it must have been the hit of the summer in 1953! Although, a spot of research does tell me, weirdly, that while it was popular in Japan and much of Europe, it barely got shown in the US due to Charlie Chaplin's alleged Communist sympathies, and when Chaplin came to the UK to promote the film, he was actually denied a visa back into the US, which is also how I learnt that Charlie Chaplin was British? I think I thought he was American!

That rabbit-hole aside, there's not much more to say about this tune than what I've already said. It's still very classical, though this version has more in common with Frank Chackfield's slightly lame version than Ron Goodwin's actually very good orchestral version. It's got classical instruments, but they aren't as crisp or as differentiated as Ron's are, more mushy strings and echoey piano.

The key difference? There are suddenly words! This, I gather, is why it wasn't billed as Terry's Theme again, not that the words are much to write home about. We start rhyming "eternally" with... uh, "eternally", before Jimmy keeps on singing about how "Though the sky should fall / Remember I shall always be / Forever true and loving you / Eternally" and how he always knew his love and him were meant to be. Yawn. There's literally nothing striking about these lyrics, they're very dull.

Jimmy Young, sings in a very trained, very British way, hanging back slightly like he's ashamed of the mush that he's singing. Which is fair enough, I don't think I could muster up much oomph for his. Whcih is a shame, as I think this is one song that would actually be improved by the Al Martino-style "belt it" approach. I can imagine a version with a much bigger, louder "Eteeeeeeernally" at the end, for sure!

But instead, we go out with a whimper, and a harp glissando. Oh well. Next song!

Seven Lonely Day - Gisele MacKenzie (6)

I'd never heard of Gisele MacKenzie, but her voice here is a nice discovery. It's a country-ish voice, though I can't quite call this a country song. Something in the way she leans into words works nicely.

It's a jaunty sort of song, despite the title, and though it starts as an angsty break-up song about how "Seven lonely days make one lonely week / Seven lonely nights make one lonely me / Ever since the time you told me were through", it slowly morphs into something else.

The first clue that something is amiss is the men's chorus that comes in, with a very hearty "Oh, my darlin', I'm cryin', boo-hoo-hoo, There's no use in denyin' I cried for you". It's still about how sad she is, but they just go at with so much gusto that it's impossible to feel particularly sad. They're rousing, you want to join in, and the "boo-hoo-hoo" bits are particularly fun!

And then Gisele gets to the heart of it, suggesting that her love didn't treat her particularly well while they were together ("It was your favourite pastime, makin' me blue") and then telling them: "Last week was the last time I cried for you" and "Guess it never pays to make your lover blue". Gisele didn't initiate the break-up, but she's over it now, and I love the attitude in this section. It's a very modern pop-diva move, turning a sad break-up song into a defiant, "I don't care" kind of song, and I am a sucker for it!

There's a little bit of clunky writing in the middle when she sings about how "Seven hankies blue I filled with my tears" and how "Seven letters true I filled with my fears". It doesn't help that her pronunciation makes it sound like "seven leathers", which confused me even further...

Still, all is forgiven when the clapping comes in near the end, when the men's chorus comes back. I love some clapping in a song! It's catchy as anything, and really ramps things up as the song draws to a close, changing up the vibe just enough to keep it fresh. Lovely stuff!

Two very different songs, then, and I think my favourite is a no-brainer. Gisele MacKenzie, unlikely as it seems, is the prototypical pop diva here, pioneering a whole genre of defiant post-breakup song that's a guilty (or not so guilty) pleasure of mine. So, without further ado...

Favourite song of the bunch: Seven Lonely Days

#uk charts #1953 #jimmy young #gisele mackenzie

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