#I have not listened to a single song that wasn’t weird al for the past two weeks and I have the airbuds history to prove it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofmythsandmadness · 4 years

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laughing like there’s any other answer (part two)

part two to ‘laughing like there’s any good reason to smile’.

SUMMARY - maybe he should have ignored the voices above his room. pretended he was sleeping, or out, or mysterious murdered and unable to acknowledge that she was back, drunk again, and still laughing. but alas, the heart wants what it wants and it rarely thinks things through.

WARNINGS - egregious usage of the word ‘toothpaste’ at one point, some foul language, the avoidance of a lot of questions. one mention of throwing up (but it’s v quick and literally just two words and we skate past it, nothing graphic). also, poor onomatopoeia usage, as though i wasn’t an english fanatic in high school. WORD COUNT - 3790. diego hargreeves x female insert.

A/N - this was meant to be just a quick happy writ. and now it’s a bittersweet (more bitter than sweet) mess that’s just making this story more complicated, haha. but it’s fine, she says, nervously laughing like she hadn’t just mucked up the singular happy piece she’s ever written. i’m not sure how i’m doing, thanks for asking. :)

“IT’S ALL SO STUPID, DIEGO, BECAUSE PEOPLE COULD LIKE YOU.”

After the events of last week, Diego was certain he would never see her again.

Maybe he’d see her, but not her, her. Not the drunk-off-her-ass, mumbling about nonsense and threatening to throw herself out of cars woman, who laughed like she hadn’t a care in the world and called him really dumb, nonsensical nicknames for no reason at all. The one that he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter what he did; she haunted him even without being dead, and he was honestly impressed because that was a hard gift to master so fast.

No, that was a rare sighting of a weird miracle - like a double rainbow, just way less exciting and hopeful.

But as the week progressed, he had not heard from her at all. She was a ghost. He couldn’t find her anywhere, not at least where she would normally be. Diego was certain she wasn’t dead, because he would have heard about that, but apart from the most morbid of options, he was out of clues as to where she could possibly be.

He had not been sure how he felt about that. At first, the absence of her presence was a nice break, and he could do as he pleased without any arguments - but as the days went on and his dreams about the other night got stronger, he found himself curious. More than curious; worried. He didn’t want to have their last conversation be that bullshit.

“I like you, you know that?”

A week after they last spoke, and Diego was trying his very best to not care. It was a Tuesday, and Tuesdays were the days he ‘got off’. The stolen - ahem, borrowed - police scanner sat beside him, crackling every so often, but it didn’t say much more than the usual, professional bullshit that didn’t need his input on. He’d wait the night out, see if anything exciting happened, but he had a feeling it’d be a quiet night.

Diego stared at the punching bag in front of him, watching it sway every so gently. Sometimes he imagined a face on it, most times he didn’t, it was just fun to hit and slash. He probably shouldn’t, the little shits were expensive and Al hated his ass already, but-

THWANK.

To hell with it, anyways.

Two more knives joined their friends, quivering. But they didn’t stay long; Diego yanked them out of the soft flesh of the bag, groaning as he sank back down onto the chair. He threw them again, and then again, creating a sad pattern he often enjoyed after the work was done.

THWANK.

The silver metal glinted in the lamplight, cold and bright. The tip dug into the pad of his index finger; he ignored it and twirled the knife anyways.

THWANK.

An old song played in the back of his mind. He didn’t remember the words, but he remembered enough for it to be annoying as hell, repeating the few phrases over and over like a broken record. Diego tried to think of something else, replace the half-assed memory, and yet still the song played on. His only option was to try to listen to anything else, anything at all, but -

-THWANK.

It was quiet in the gym. The only people there were Al and himself, and neither were making much noise. He only knew the former was still there because of his groaning footsteps as he walked the worn wood above Diego’s head, and the occasional curse thrown out like a bullet towards nothing in particular. But the music of the daytime was gone, and with it had gone the hubbub of conversations, grunts and groans and whatever else atmospheric nonsense he normally got.

THWANK.

He didn’t like the quiet much. And he certainly did not like it then, with the stupid song stuck - why couldn’t he remember the name of it, or anything about it? Just a couple bars of an oldie he didn’t even like...some name with an ‘F’, maybe. A shithead singing out his poor heart for a love never returned back to him...why couldn’t there be any other song stuck?

Diego groaned and threw another knife. He poised another in his long fingers, twirling the handle without much thought before pulling back and -

“-what the hell don’t you get, huh?”

He froze. The knife fell from his hand; he fumbled to pick it up a second later, awkward and absent-minded. So focused on whatever Al was bitchin’ about then, he hardly realised he had squeezed too hard, and then-

“-OW!”

Diego roared with all the sound of a mouse, throwing himself off the chair and towards the small bathroom. The wound wasn’t deep, but it stung bright red and painful, scratching out his stupidness across his tender palm. He should have been more careful, he was always so careful with the things-

“-look...I know he’s here, mister!”

He paused again, scratch forgotten. That definitely was not Al.

“I don’t giv’a crap. We’re closed.”

“Uh...so why is this sign saying it’s open?”

“What - no, you just did that!”

Diego could scream. He would scream, if he wasn’t going to lose his job and home to Al’s pissed off ass - but he definitely, really wanted to, frustration bouncing around in his head like a toddler with a tantrum. Gone were all the thoughts of where Y/N was; all he could think about then, was stopping Y/N as soon as he possibly could.

He hurriedly wrapped gauze around his bleeding palm (which really didn’t do much, it just made the wound look worse) and left the bathroom. Taking the stair steps two at a time, it took him merely thirty seconds to get up to the main area.

“What the hell’s going on?”

“Ah - see, I knew you had him hidden away somewhere!”

Al spun around and fixed his glare on Diego. “You know this lunatic?”

He sighed and nodded (not because he wanted to, but because he had to - there was no way she would walk away from this quietly). “Yeah, I know her. I’ll take care of it, Al.”

“You know, I put up with every single one of your stupid stunts, but I don’t appreciate-”

“-yeah, yeah, I know. I know,” Diego nodded, pretending to listen without hearing a single word of his boss’ speech. “I got it. C’mon.”

Y/N perked up then and stumbled over to him with the biggest smile he might have seen her ever wear in his whole life. If he wasn’t so pissed off…

“What happened to your hand, dear boy?”

He quickly retracted his grip, hiding the injured limb from her sight. “Nothin’.”

“Diego, I’m not stupid.”

“You sure? Cause turning up here, in the middle of the goddamn night on a Tuesday-”

-she yanked her arm away from his tight grip and carried on without him. Even as he protested and hurried behind her, somehow she remained faster, racing down the stairs with the grace of a newborn deer. All limbs and stumbles, but not a care in the world as she shouted something back at him he couldn’t quite catch.

“You can’t just be here.”

“And why not? I mean, you’ve shown up at my place without-”

“-that’s different.”

She stopped then and turned just as he reached her. Both chests heaved, and her eyes darted about his face as though piecing together a mosaic. He just watched her.

“And why is it different, my dainty...dear...Diego?”

“I...I-”

“-gotcha,” she whispered, before pushing the door in with a laugh. “Gotcha, ha - you just got beat by me - how does that feel? How does that feel?”

Diego groaned. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a loser,” she crowed back. But her interest quickly strayed from him, eyes tracing the walls of the tiny space. “You know, I’ve never been here before.”

“Yeah, well-”

“-I like it! I was worried it’d suck total ass, but honestly, out of aaaall the guys’ rooms I’ve seen, this...this is pre-tty close to the top.”

He wasn’t sure whether to take it as a real compliment or not, but at least she didn’t seem interested in a response. It gave him the chance to head back into the bathroom and collect the gauze he had left all over the ground.

“Don’t you have,” he grunted, peeling off the fabric to reveal the sliced palm underneath, “work tomorrow?”

“Work, shmork.”

His teeth gritted. It wasn’t a bad cut, not at all - but it always had to be the shallowest that hurt the most. “Thought you were married to that shit.”

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“Holy shi-give a man a warning,” he retorted, stepping back as much as he could. Though, in the tiny bathroom, there wasn’t much of that - the backs of his legs hit the shower curtain, and she just looked on with a sloppy smile and lidded eyes. “How’d you move so quietly--”

She waved off his question and pushed into the tiny room. “You’re gonna make a mess, trying to deal with that. Let me, loser.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy. And I’ve got the hands of a surgeon, with or without,” she grinned, refusing even the slightest rebuttal in her triumphant claims. Without any hesitation, she reached for the bottle of peroxide and promptly poured it down his hand like it was water off a duck’s back. Her expression didn’t shift when Diego shouted in pain; she just kept up the swift work with his hand as her hostage.

“You’re a dick.”

“And you’re a little baby.”

“Rude.”

She stuck her tongue out his way.

“You don’t need to-ow,” he hissed, when the gauze tightened too far against his palm. “I could have done it, asshole.”

Y/N’s smile slipped a little at that, and for a moment she didn’t respond; her hands just worked the white bandages around his own, and pressed it together. Finally, once the task was done though, her eyes lifted to his again.

“Sometimes, we need the most help, even when we insist on the opposite.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. I might have made it up. But it sounded real nice, didn’t it?”

Diego just nodded.

“Can I…” her breath hitched, and somehow, she got even closer than before; he could make out every individual lash glint in the bathroom light, and the way her lips were swollen and a little bruised - he guessed from the constant worrying between her teeth. “Can I ask you a question, Diego?”

He nodded again.

Her hand ever so lightly grazed over his own; fingers tracing up with the delicacy of a flower. “Do you…”

His breath caught in his throat. Gone were all the frustrations at her of before; all he could think about was her, on repeat in his mind like an EDM song, blaring her name as explosions echoed in the distance. Wasn’t it just seconds before, that she was torturing him with peroxide? Why couldn’t he think about anything but her eyes, and lips, the way she just --

“W-what?”

“Do you have any toothpaste?”

Diego blinked, then again, unsure if he had just misheard her. “What?”

“Toothpaste. Y’know, the shit ta clean your teeth?” Her head cocked, her eyes singing laughter, “don’t tell me those pearlies are magic-”

“-I have toothpaste - why the hell do you need toothpaste?”

Once more, she looked like she was in on a joke he just didn’t get. “To brush my teeth with...duh. You think I’m just gonna scrub my tongue with a plain toothbrush? Jeez, Diego, how-”

-he cut her off with a grunt that really didn’t sound like any word in the English language and swung past. In the back of his head, he was murdering his subconscious and wishing the idiot would stop acting for itself. “Here,” he said, passing her the tube. “Knock yourself out.”

Y/N’s smile grew wider. “Kinky. But I’d rather just brush my teeth.”

“Jes-what does that even mean?!”

Diego, sadly, would never find out. He was left to simply watch her cross the room again, brandishing the tube with great pride in search of her purse - “I threw up on the way here,” she explained, “and I had my toothbrush, but no toothpaste! And I remembered, Diego has nice teeth, and obviously toothpaste is a necessity, so he must have toothpaste! I think that’s why I told the guy to drop me here, actually.”

“There - you know you’re making no sense, right?”

She shrugged, swooping past where he still stood again. She pulled a toothbrush out of its thin black case and started applying his toothpaste. He watched her, unsure what to do as she took over his bathroom and mumbled through an intense brushing session. Before he could even try to understand her, though, he realised something.

“Do you just carry around a toothbrush, wherever you go?”

Her motions paused for a second before resuming. It was so quick, a normal person would have just skipped right over it, but Diego gripped tight to maybe his only clue towards his personal investigation as to ‘what the hell she was doing there, and why’.

“I - I mwearn,” she paused, spitting out and resuming her brushing, “I dwown’t arwawys - swowry, wone swec.”

He waited.

“Sorry. I was saying, I don’t always have a toothbrush on me, but I did today, I had to pick up my stuff and I guess I just left this little guy in my bag. Which was lucky, right?”

Diego ignored her end question and pressed on. “Where were you picking up your stuff from? You’re moving?”

“Oh, ha - no, nothing like that. Just from a friend.” With a snap, the toothbrush had returned to its case and she was yet again pushing right past. That time, though, Diego followed.

“A friend?”

“You do know the definition of that word, right? I can-”

“-a friend that makes you get wasted after visiting with?”

Y/N pushed herself up her leaning, hands clutched tight to her tiny bag. Her smile still remained, but it wasn’t the easy one of just moments before; it was strained, forced onto unwilling cheeks like a suit of armour.

“I’m not wasted, dear, dapper, Diego. Far from it. If I was wasted, I’d be so much stupider than I am right now. I mean, I can-”

“-this the same friend from last week, too?”

“What? What are you-” Y/N swallowed. Her eyes slipped from his to her purse, watching her hands scrabble at the silver handle like it was her last lifeline. “Are you - I don’t get this routine, dude. I just needed toothpaste! I hate bad breath, don’t you?”

Diego stepped over and grabbed her hands in his uninjured one, pausing the frantic picking at the bag. It dropped with a solemn thud; neither looked down to it.

“What was that for?” She asked, quiet that time.

“You’re not here cause you needed toothpaste.”

“Do you want me to reimburse you for it? Cause I think I might have a dime somewhere, I don’t know how much you want but I’ll pay you back for the tiny, TINY amount of your precious paste I used.”

Diego groaned. For a moment, that flash of frustration flared up again and he was tempted to give up this at all. But it was easily quelled when he looked up again, seeing the worried look she badly covered up with a smile.

“Why’re you here, Y/N?”

“What d’y…” her bottom lip was tugged up into the grasp of her hungry teeth; they worried and nibbled without relief. “D’you want me to go?”

“No. No, I don’t want you to go.”

“Then just let it be, darling,” she sang softly, “and let’s let the toothpaste incident die.”

“No, cause…” his hand pressed softly into her palm, intertwining their fingers with a gentleness he himself didn’t know he possessed. “This is the second time now, you’ve come or called me after getting drunk off your ass, which really isn’t your style. I mean, you’re a freakin’ workaholic. It’s a Tuesday night. You’d be fast asleep right now.”

Her eyes shifted to just behind him, avoiding his soft stare. “You been stalking me or somethin’, my dear?”

“No, but I know you. You’re too caught up in making sure everyone thinks you’re Miss Perfect to be late for shit. Let alone hungover.”

“Well…” she sighed, a sad little sound that barely echoed from her own lips. She seemed to contemplate his words, tossing them over before throwing them away and moving right along. “You really think of me like that? You think everyone does?”

Diego frowned. “Like what?”

“Miss Perfect? Miss - miss -” her hand grew a little clammy in his grasp; she was getting nervous, and he supposed the alcohol wasn’t helping. “-you think of me as a stick in the mud, Diego? I’m not interesting or exciting, just a plain Jane who-”

“-I think you’re fascinating,” he murmured, even without thinking. He almost regretted the words the second they slipped from his mouth; her gaze snapped to his, wide-eyed and confused, and he could just see the cogs working behind her head. He wasn’t even sure where the words came from, or why they had - he hadn’t thought about anything past getting our where she was, and yet…

“You don’t even like me.”

Diego sighed and held her hand a little tighter. His injured palm came to rest over them, squeezing even with the twinge of pain. “Course I like you. You said that last week.”

“Did I?” She laughed, but it was shrill and pitiful. A mere shell of the glorious sounds that had filled his car days prior; if he hadn’t pressed every sound to his memory permanently, he’d have never known she was the same person. “I - doesn’t sound like me. Are you pulling my leg, Diego?”

He ignored her awkward question, pressing on. “That was the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh. You know that? And we’ve known each other for a while.”

“I’ve laughed before, dummy.”

“That’s - those - those’re bullshit laughs, professional garbage,” he responded, each word growing a little bit stronger. “I heard you laugh your ass off to nothing at all in my car last week, and it was be...n-nice. That’s the shit I know that’s real. Not this game you’re playin’ with yourself.”

Y/N still wouldn’t look at him, no matter how he pressed against her hand, or stared her down. Her eyes rested on a space past him, but they grew sadder by the second, losing that little spark of drunken happiness she had forced to build before.

“The Y/N I know,” Diego continued, made bold by a feeling he didn’t recognise, “doesn’t take shit from anybody. You don’t think twice; you just do. You trust your gut and it’s almost always right. Sure, sometimes you screw up, but…”

“...not sometimes, dear. Always.”

“No, not-”

“-dear me, I don’t know why I came here,” she muttered, and within a single pull, she was free and pushing away from him. “Sorry, Diego, I mean - it’s a Tuesday! You’ve got your little black-leather Batman fantasy and I’ve got work tomorrow. You know, I’ve been prepping for this meeting and it’s going to be good, I just need to finish those blasted points…”

She rattled on about nothing at all, repeating phrases and half-mumbling the words as she gathered her dropped belongings up. Her jacket, the bag that had fallen between them before, and something he couldn’t quite catch that had slipped out with it.

And Diego, stupidly, just watched.

“You be careful, okay? And-” she paused then, swaying ever so slightly in the windless room, “-just watch yourself. It’s a shitty world, and I can’t have the one person that - that - well, I don’t know where I’m going with this thought, it’s going to stop now. Ha...yeah, no. Just be safe, and make sure you get your six to nine hours or whatever bull...shit…” A sob ended the sentence, soft and sad and joined right after by a loud sniffle.

Diego still watched in silence.

“I know you don’t like me,” she muttered, voice growing raspy from presumably, tears building behind shitty defenses, “and that’s okay. But I...I appreciate you putting up with me. You’re a good guy, Diego. And that’s good. That’s nice. I think you might just be the last goddamn nice guy in this whole city...hm. Should get you a medal, or something. That’d make a good t-shirt…”

He watched her cross and head up the stairs, staggering on one but regaining her balance quickly. And just as she opened the door-

“-you can’t go home by yourself.”

Y/N stopped still and took in his words. She nodded slowly. “Sure...you’re...um, yeah. I’ll call my si...or...my friend, she’s at my place so...uh-huh.”

“C’mon, I’ll just-”

“-you’ve done enough for me tonight, dear,” she smiled, and he could just make out the glint of a tear on her cheek. “Let’s see if your boss won’t do me a favour, too.”

“Y/N.”

She mock-glared, though the expression wasn’t held long. “Diego - see, I can do that too.”

“Let me take you home.”

“This is good, trust me. I’ll...she has my car, so I’ll just call it in. I’ll be gone in four shakes of a scout’s tail, or…that’s not right.” She smiled. “Doesn’t matter. Thanks for the toothpaste, darling boy.”

“B-be safe...”

“I will,” she promised, still smiling like there was any reason to. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to waste anymore of your time, not going to make you have to save me...yeah. See you, Diego.”

She shut the door then, leaving him alone in the heavy silence.

Moments later, he heard the familiar voices above him again.

“Sir, sorry, if you don’t mind…”

“Great Scott, girl - did he do this to you?!”

“Oh, Diego? No, he’s a lovely boy and he was actually being very sweet, I just...I was just thinking about my grandma, and I...I need to make a call?”

The conversation continued, with Al trying his best to console Y/N, and her repeating - even on the phone - that she would be just fine, and that ‘she was awfully sorry for her behaviour, she’s not really the sort to play such sad pranks but desperate times called for bad measures’. Eventually, then, the voices faded, with her wishing him a cheery goodbye and footsteps clunking against the ceiling.

And it was only as her steps died into silence and the door clanged shut, that Diego unfroze from his standing position and realised what a deep, deep, ‘idiot’s only’ grave he had just dug for himself.

#the umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves oneshot #tua x reader #diego hargreeves reader insert #part two

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years

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(Ophelia/sokeefitz with asd kid anon again) I’m sorry for coming back so soon again. I really really want to scream right now, but I can‘t because…I don’t know actually, I can’t raise my voice like that for some reason lol. How do people willingly raise their voice anyway? I try to do that but most of the time it just results in me being even quieter I guess. Anyway, that’s not the point of this tangent. I’m going to lose my mind at some point, I feel like I’m dying very very slowly. Like everyday, a piece of me just chips off and one day I’m just going to snap or something. Like I’m just going to slam my face into a mirror or crush my hand in a door. I think my rationality has completely died by now, well I think something died I don’t know if it was my rationality or not but something‘s gone. My emotions are very flip-floppy. Very very much so. Like I’ll be working or something, and I’ll just be slamming my fists on the table one second and then singing quietly the next. Or I’ll hit my head and then immediately be like “Oh that hurt- why’d I do that??”. These past few days I’ve been extra anxious quite literally no reason. Like. Nothing’s happening now and nothing’s happening soon, there wasn’t really an event that triggered this it just kind of started a couple days ago. and when I say ‘extra anxious’ I mean extra anxious by my standards, and I already have severe anxiety normally. It almost feels like I’m anticipating something right now, but I have absolutely no clue what. I hate feeling like this, existing as myself, and even more than that I hate not having a single clue what the hell my problem is. Why am I like this? Why is this my life? Why can’t I just exist normally or at least happily? And I feel like I should clarify that I’m actually not in normal school. I’m online, at my house. I got pulled out of in-person schooling last year when my attendance tanked because I couldn’t get out of bed in the morning because I literally couldn’t move since my anxiety about the school was so bad. My reaction to being at the school was actually so extreme that my doctors thought I was being bullied, because even being near the school building was enough for me to break down. Halloween was the first time I saw a kid my age since the school year started. I’ve been working all the time, because I’m too slow at working to even be able to dream of not being behind at school. I can’t even leave my house most of the time because I’m too scared of seeing someone I know, and also I’m so low on energy from doing school work that I just don’t have enough to go under all the stress of being outside. (I had the reputation at school of being that one quiet weird kid in the back of the class, at least for the people who noticed me at all.) Anyway, my only hope for an escape out of this waking nightmare is that I get a heart attack and die young, but I can only dream. I hope you‘re having a great day and I wish you only the best, and I’m sorry that this ask is so so long and once again you don’t have to answer it. I know this one is probably more extreme than my other ones, I’m so sorry for that.

hey, Ophelia, welcome back! It's nice to see you again, and I don't think it's too soon after your previous ask! Also I saw the one you sent me about switching to Ophelia as I suggested, so I'll answer that one when I can! There's a song titled Ophelia by The Lumineers that I've always liked, so that was part of the inspiration (please don't read too much into what the lyrics mean, as I don't actually know and any meaning you find in them whether positive or negative is something I'm unaware of! I just like the bouncy vibes and always like listening to it)

that thing about screaming is very relatable. It seems to be cathartic to so many people but anytime I try I unsettle myself. Once when I was overwhelmed and having a brief meltdown while driving home I tried screaming in the car because I hadn't yet figured out what to do with the energy while also operating heavy machinery and I got like one second in and went Nope. It's too loud for me. So if I scream it's more of a silent thing without making any actual noise. The urge is there but the follow through never helps in the way I want it to!

"everyday, a piece of me just chips off and one day I’m just going to snap or something." I think I get what you're saying, and if I do then I am so sorry you're going through this. It absolutely sucks. it feels like you're a finite resource that was asked too much of one time and now you're permanently behind and no matter how much you rest you'll never get back to that original feeling of rested/wholeness. Like a constant depletion and even getting something back doesn't bring you back, if that makes sense. I don't really have vacations at the school I go to, so I get this way most of the time during the brief breaks I'll get when a semester ends. And then I do nothing the entire break and yet doing nothing still doesn't give me back all the energy I depleted during the semester, so I'm always going forward with less than what I used to be. I don't know if that's how you're feeling, but I'm trying to understand.

and that rationality being gone is understandable. Like your brain won't do the things you're supposed to but you're stuck tagging along? I know I often watch my brain/body decide things and it's like I'm observing from afar like wtf was that for?? If that makes sense. Not exactly what you were saying but it's what you reminded me of.

flip-floppy emotions!! that's an interesting way to describe it. I've always described something similar as "all or nothing" emotions, like my brain won't register something as an emotion until it reaches a certain level and by that point it's a very big emotion and I don't know what to do with it! And then I'm stuck experiencing it until it goes away and I do the "why'd I do that" thing you mentioned. I don't usually hit my head (same kind of thing as the screaming) but I do hit my thighs fairly frequently. Not usually enough to be of any concern in terms of bruising myself or anything, but occasionally my brain will go slap and I'll hit myself really hard with no thought behind it and i'm just sitting there like??? why?? there were so many other ways I could've expressed that?? but my brain said slap and so I slapped.

I'm sorry you've been feeling extra anxious!! that's never fun. when it's tied to something it's easier to try and reason yourself out of it or wait for it to pass, but the endless "oh no oh no oh no" of unspecified anxiety is never fun. The most memorable time that happened to me was during a sleepover, which sucked even more because my friends were aware that I wasn't doing great but I had!! no idea why!! and so they couldn't help me at all.

i've learned to live with a baseline of anxiety and overly-observational thoughts and an almost mechanic way of living to get on by, so it really does take a lot to get me overly anxious in a way I'll recognize (like I said emotions don't really register until they're big), but when it happens...never fun. So I'm really sorry you're going through that!! Maybe it's an anxiety attack of some kind, as those can last weeks.

"why can't I just exist normally." I think I get that. Since I spend a lot of time alone, I often forget just how unusual my mind works until I'm around others. Whenever I'm in class sitting by other students and seeing how they work and the things they talk about and just how they function I'm always fascinated. because it makes...no sense. Like you are taking these actions and saying these things why?? I don't think I have the longing to be like them, but there are times when my anxiety gets really bad that I want more than anything to be normal just to make it stop. Ask me any other time and I'll say no, that getting rid of all that about me makes me Not Me, but in the moment I'm just so panicked that I'd do anything to make it stop, even being normal (fitting in is something I stopped wanting a long time ago because it feels like it diminishes other things, but there's nothing wrong with wanting to fit in. anything that makes you more comfortable and happier is entirely valid. if that's being normal, I completely support you <33)

I'm also in online school. Not 100% of the time, as I do have one (out of five) in-person class right now, but if I'd had the option to take it online I would've. Not just because it saves travel time and gas, but just being around other people my age feels so wrong. Because I'm not like them. Put me in a room of "peers" and I'll feel like I'm in a room of strangers and things I don't understand. I sit literally right in front of my teacher (our tables literally touch) because he's the only person I'm interested in talking to there, and even then I'm mostly just working alone and doing my own thing most of the time. So not because of anxiety, but at least you're not alone about not being in classrooms or not wanting to be there.

I don't have a story to offer to empathize in terms of being behind in school, as I've somehow avoided that so far. but that does come with the working all the time thing. there have been several times this semester where I've had to put everything on hold and just work on homework for hours straight to make deadlines. I remember just a few weeks ago I did five hours straight of French and had to fight myself to focus and not break down because I literally didn't have time to. and the next day when I woke up there were new assignments and I did it all over again.

it's so hard to go outside after doing things like that, and when it's routine to work constantly that time is all the time. Leaving my house makes me anxious a lot of the time, but i'm fortunate enough that the pressure of driving (if I'm the one driving) keeps it at bay most of the time. My brain goes "can't be anxious you're in charge of a car" and then I can put off the stressing for later. But not everyone is like that. And the anxiety happens at the stupidest of things! I get anxious going five minutes away to a bookstore I've been to dozens of times. They know my family there and there's nothing to be afraid of, but the thought of being observed while I'm there makes it terrifying.

(I was also the weird quiet kid. I had a teacher say something along the lines of "they speak!" when I actually raised my hand in class, which was incredibly rare. When I started masking more throughout middle school I became "friends" with a few people who admitted to me that they didn't like me before and thought I was weird and rude, so definitely not a stranger to being seen as strange by your peers)

I hope you don't get a heart attack! It'd be awful if you died. I promise you that there is an alternative to dying and hurting all the time. It may take you a while to figure out what exactly that is for you, but every day you get closer to figuring it out. I don't mean this to sound insensitive or like I'm brushing off your struggles and feelings to be like "haha but it'll be better someday! just believe and stick around!" because I want to acknowledge your feelings and how awful they are to experience while also acknowledging that feelings aren't permanent and they change. I hope that makes sense.

I hope you're doing well, too. I'm doing alright (had a stressful weekend that was different from the normal schedule but I'll make it through). I liked hearing from you though, even if you're not doing great at the moment. Your ask wasn't too long or bothersome. you're welcome to send any length ask you'd like to! And you're allowed to complain and vent. I don't have any rules about sending asks except maybe just "be patient with me" because I'm a single entity behind this entire blog. But there's still nothing to apologize for <33

#I just realized I put Ophelia (the song) on repeat and listened to it the entire time I was answering this ask #it has fun vibes #again though: lyrics haven't processed in my brain the several years I've listened to it #so if it has some awful meaning that is entirely unintentional and i'm not aware of it!#I don't think it does #but just in case #quil's queries #long post #ophelia nonsie

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c-hristy · 4 years

Text

Dealmaking 《Charlastor》

It had been consistently gnawing at him for the past few weeks. Something constantly settled in the back of his mind; endlessly worrying through any defensive mechanisms that he put in place to stop the thought from coming to the forefront of his mind.

Alastor was a sentimental man on the surface. He doted on Charlie like no tomorrow; gifting her flowers and twirling her around the ballroom in such a way that everyone could see that he was enamoured. He knew he was like this on the surface; the way he’d present Rosie or Mimzy with flowers, or cart Niffty around also conveyed his ability to get along well with women.

His mind however, was turned away from any long lasting sentimental thoughts about nearly every living creature that he had come across, whether it was topside or in Hell. He’d always felt that if anyone were to walk from his life, he’d just shrug and continue on. Nothing really hit struck him deeply; not until he’d met her.

Alastor had been unable to attend to duties at the Hotel for the past week in a half; his mind had gone through a particularly rough rampage through Pentagram City and his Wendigo had been nearly unmanageable from the flesh of demons. It had been shameful, almost, how uncontrollable he had been. After the day or so of causing havoc in the city, he’d locked himself in his radio tower to collect his thoughts and regroup.

In those days, a sort of prickling pain started to edge its way onto the edge of his heart and he wasn’t sure what it was exactly. His fingers itched to do something and when he lay down in his bed to sleep for the first time in a week, it seemed like the mattress itself was miles long and almost uncomfortable - he knew he hadn’t felt that way only just a few months ago, the last time he’d slept at the radio tower.

It wasn’t like he needed sleep; the itch of his eyelids was able to be ignored and the slight fatigue he felt wasn’t too bothersome. His fingers tapped slightly along the bedsheets and for a moment, all he felt was frustration at the inability to actually relax his body.

After another hour of mindless tapping and thoughts, Alastor heaved out a long-suffering sigh and pushed the blankets away from him, sitting up on the bed. It ‘wasn’t terribly comfortable; he realized, not like the bed he shared when he stayed at the Hotel.

His mouth crept downward into the most relaxed smile he knew he could muster as he thought of his bedmate. Charlie wasn’t exactly one to stay to herself while she slept; she sprawled and muttered and moved around senselessly. She slept more than he did, usually every other night, and he wondered if it was due to her Hellborn status. She usually lay on top of him, her legs tangling with his, fingers gripping his nightshirt and her lips moving in nonsensical speaking once in a while. The nights that he didn’t sleep, he’d lie awake, stroking the mess of curls on the one side of her head and flicking through the variety of songs that played through the radio in the room.

With a flourish, Alastor stood and slid his hooves into his shoes before grasping onto the shadow magic that surrounded him and slipping through the darkness. He crept along the streets of Pentagram, unseen and deft as he made his way to the hotel that was on the other side of the city. Halfway there, he almost stopped and berated himself; running into the bed of someone wasn’t exactly the most dignified idea.

“You’re always welcome, here, Al, you know that,” he could almost hear her say to him, like she had done so many times in the past when he had vocalized his discomfort with just waltzing into her bedroom of all places.

The shadows of the Hotel bent to his power as he drifted through them. Alastor noted how Husker was still awake, nursing a bottle of something, barely muttering to a still-hyper Niffty. Angel Dust was lounging on one of the couches, flipping mindlessly through a magazine while he lazily ate one of those popsies that he loved so much.. Alastor continued onward into the hotel, noting just how quiet everything seemed to be.

As he neared Charlie’s sleeping quarters, he came to notice that her room was still brilliantly lit; there would be no shadow for him to travel into. His lips curved downward slightly at the hindrance; he’d either have to knock or just walk in.

His ears flicked as he realized that there was actually speaking going on inside the room; his hearing picked it up rather easily and he moved closer to the door so that he would be able to hear the speakers just a little bit better.

“- don’t know, Vags. It just seems hopeless!” A soft thud as Charlie most likely threw herself backward onto her bed.

A gentle rustle of blankets, “I never thought you were one to give up, “Vaggie said, sounding tired.

“Hey!” Charlie huffed indignantly, “I’m not giving up. I’m just unsure, is all!”

“Well, if you don’t think he will, why don’t you?”

Alastor blinked and tilted his head. Who was the ‘he’ that they were speaking about?

There was a moment of silence from both Charlie and Vaggie. Alastor put his hand on the doorknob and was tempted to just make a grand entrance, though some part of him murmured that he should keep low and listen to them further.

“I think that’s a good idea. Oh, he probably wouldn’t say yes,” He could hear Charlie flip over on the bed, her tone dejected, “I guess I’m weird for wanting him to propose to me. Being the Radio Demon’s wife, I guess. Is that weird?”

Alastor felt a rush of heat flood through his face and up his ears, hand falling from the doorknob and his ears folding backward. The way she had said it; it sent ripples of pleasure through his spine and in that moment, he came to realize that it was probably the next logical step, right?

Marriage. He’d never put a whole lot of thought into it, either on the topside or down in Hell. No one had ever struck his fancy; had made him feel as though he would want to wed them. As he thought more on it, Charlie and Vaggie’s conversation slipping from his mind, he came to realize that Charlie was the one that he felt like that with.

The want to be curled next to her, the desire to listen to her babble nonsensically about the Hotel and it’s sponsors and the few demons that she had managed to redeem - he enjoyed listening to all of it. One of the few, if only, demons that he actually craved to be around.

With a wicked grin spread across his lips, Alastor dipped into the shadows once more and disappeared from the hotel.

Hours later, he crept through the Hotel, fully formed. He knew how to keep quiet so that no one else would be able to hear him; it wasn’t a difficult mission. Alastor noted that the lights inside Charlie’s room were turned off, so he didn’t have too much of an issue just pushing open the door and stepping inside.

On the bed lay Charlie, sprawled out and completely tangled in the blankets. His smile crept up and he shuffled in further, making sure to set his shoes near the door and hang his jacket up on one of the chairs in the room. He was still dressed in his sleepwear; he hadn’t had the time to change it between his attempt at sleeping at the tower and during his small errand.

Alastor dipped down on to the mattress and with a short shake to Charlie’s shoulder, she jolted awake and blinked blearily at him.

“Wha- Oh! Al!” A sleepy smile stretched across her face and she moved away from his side of the bed, shuffling the blankets so that he would be able to crawl in with her.

He did, resting himself against the pillows and turning toward her. She scoot herself backward, her back against his chest, and he lazily tossed an arm over her waist. Charlie gave a soft murmur of appreciation at the affection, turning her head to look up at him.

“I didn’t think you were coming over tonight,” She yawned, reaching up and rubbing her eyes, “I would have made space if I knew!”

Alastor chuckled and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, “That’s quite alright, darling. I didn’t quite expect myself to come over, either.”

Charlie hummed and turned back over, Alastor watching how her eyes slipped closed and her breathing started to slow into a more relaxed pattern. He felt his own heart pound steadily in his chest, whatever was left of it, his own mind warping and twisting.

“Charlie,” Alastor spoke, without even realizing he had started.

“Mmm?” She hummed softly, not moving from her position, though she cracked open a single eye.

“I need to talk to you,” His arm tightened around her waist and she rolled slightly so that she could make eye contact with him.

She yawned again, turning fully so that she could see him better, “Now?”

He nodded and propped himself up on an elbow, head tilted slightly, “Charlie, I have not loved very many things and even fewer people in both of my lives. It’s strange to me,” He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, grin soft, “That with every passing moment, my love for you grows stronger.”

Charlie’s cheeks darkened further and she smiled prettily at him, “Al.”

He leaned forward and her smile widened as he pressed a kiss to her lips. He didn’t give them often; Charlie rest her hand on his shoulder and kissed Alastor back just as sweetly as he was to her. When he pulled away, he didn’t move too far and kept his eyes on hers

“Will you allow me to love you forever? Day after day, month after month, year after year?” He reached down to the pocket of his pajama pants and pulled out the smooth ring that he had kept safely there, holding it out to her with his index and thumb, “Charlotte Magne, may I be yours forever?”

Charlie’s eyes widened and filled with tears, her throat closing up slightly at the complete vulnerable look on Alastor’s face. She nodded frantically, holding out her hand. Alastor took it and slid the ring onto her finger; a simple silver band with a single diamond engrained in it. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, laughing.

“Yes, Al, of course!” She peppered kisses along his cheek and Alastor felt the magic of dealmaking snap around them, a gentle green glow emitting from them.

He chuckled and pulled her closer to him, watching as the single diamond glittered in the low light. Alastor felt as though he were overcome by so many emotions and yet none at all; none of the emotions he had ever felt, in both lives, could compare to the feeling he was washed with while he looked over Charlie, wearing his ring and a grin on her lips. He leaned forward, nose brushing against hers.

“So, it’s a deal then.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #charlastor #charlastor story #charlie x alastor

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imagining-supernatural · 4 years

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The First Interview

Part 13 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: Sebastian talks about you on his interview with Seth Myers, and something shifts in your relationship when he gets home that night

Word Count: 1,874

“Sebastian Stan everyone!” Seth Meyers announced. You watched through the screen as Seb walked onto the stage.

You hadn’t watched any of his other interviews, but this was the first one where he was going to talk about you, and you were nervous. You weren’t nervous about what he was going to say, per se. You hadn’t lied when you said you trusted Seb’s judgment. You were just nervous about what came after. What nosey journalists or fans might dredge up. So you figured it was best to be prepared.

While Seb greeted Seth, you decided that you needed to tell him about your past. You wanted him to know. Maybe tonight when he got back…

“So, besides your movie coming out, you’ve been in the headlines a bit lately.” Seth moved on from the small talk about Seb’s upcoming movie.

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, I have.”

“And you haven’t been alone,” Seth prodded.

“No, Seth, I haven’t been. We had hoped to keep it to ourselves a bit longer, but I suppose a drunken wedding in Vegas isn’t the most secure of wedding venues.”

Seth laughed good-naturedly. “No, it is not. For anyone who hasn’t seen the picture yet, here is Sebastian and his wife in Vegas.” He held up the picture that had been circulating of the two of you and Elvis. That night (or rather, morning after) felt like so long ago. “Now, we were chatting backstage before the show and this is quite the story.”

That understatement made you snort from your blanket nest on Sebastian’s couch. Your snort matched Sebastian’s and he grinned. “That’s one way to put it.”

“First off, this wedding… it wasn’t planned, was it?”

“No. Not at all. That night was basically the most cliché night I’d ever had.”

“Sounded like it belongs in the beginning of a quirky rom-com,” Seth offered.

“My wife, when we discussed this, mentioned how much the people who write or read fan fiction are going to love our story.”

So he was going with the truth. You sighed in relief. Before this moment, you hadn’t thought you would have minded either way. But not having to come up with a lie or half-truth in the future would make your life so much easier.

“We actually just met each other that night. Most of the night was a blur, but the next morning I about had a heart attack when I woke up next to her and saw that ring on her finger and the marriage certificate on the hotel dresser…”

“And the pictures of Elvis on your phone.” Sebastian laughed at Seth’s words, nodded in agreement. “Then you went out to breakfast before heading to the courthouse, is that right?”

“What kind of a husband would I have been if I didn’t take my wife out to eat before going to get the marriage annulled?”

“Not a good one, that’s for sure.” Seth sat forward. “You never got the annulment though. Why was that? Most people, when they wake up married to a complete stranger in Vegas would get the annulment as soon as possible.”

“That was the plan. She was very insistent on the annulment. Kind of a bruise to my ego, you know?” The joke played well and you could tell the laughter of the audience calmed his nerves some. “But her reasons for wanting the annulment became my reasons for putting it off. See, she has cancer and didn’t want to pull anyone into that.”

As soon as he said the c-word, a hush fell over the room. The tension was palpable even through the TV screen.

“The treatment options she had weren’t promising, and there were a few other complications that led her to decide that she didn’t want to pursue treatment. That Vegas trip was supposed to be her last hurrah.”

“Hell of a last hurrah,” Seth said. “So, it was your idea to not get the annulment?”

“Yes. I had to practically force her to get on a plane and see my friend, who is an oncologist, for a second opinion. She was insistent on not getting me involved. And the entire time, I wasn’t sure why I was pushing the issue so hard for someone I had just met.”

“But you’re glad you did.” Since it wasn’t phrased like a question, you had to assume Seb had spoke to Seth at length before the show.

“I am, yes.” No hesitation. “We got her into a promising treatment plan and, though it hasn’t been easy, and even though she has horrible taste in music, I have absolutely no regrets.”

Seth waited a moment for the applause to die down. “From what you told me backstage, she sounds like a wonderful, strong woman. I’m sure it was quite the adjustment to go from bachelor life to living with someone who doesn’t take no for an answer.”

Seb laughed. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But, no. It wasn’t that hard. I’ve liked getting to know her and becoming really close friends with her. And you’re right, she is so great. And strong. But cancer treatment is really tough and the idea of being hounded by the press has caused her stress that she shouldn’t have to deal with while going through this.”

“I’m sure that after a day in the hospital, the last thing she wants to do is be bombarded with cameras and questions, right?”

“Right. She’s strong, but all of her energy needs to go towards focusing on getting better. We’ll be putting out an official statement soon, but I’d like to use this opportunity to request that everyone respects our privacy. Our relationship isn’t conventional, and I know that makes us exciting, but we need to focus on her health right now. Not the curiosity of the media.”

“It’s obvious you care for her quite a bit, and we hope both of you the best. Hopefully the next time you’re in that seat, your wife will be cancer free.”

Seth finished up by reminding the audience about Sebastian’s movie that was coming out and the camera panned away to commercials now that the allotted time for the interview was up.

Not caring for the rest of the interviews, you turned off the TV. Before the TV even went dark, you turned it on again and put on an old sitcom for background noise.

It’s obvious you care for her quite a bit.

What the hell had Seth meant by that?

Your phone vibrated and you checked the text from Seb.

Sebastian: You see it yet?

Me: I have bad taste in music, huh?

Me: That’s rich coming from someone who has never heard a Weird Al song before he met me

Sebastian: You made me listen to that song about Albuquerque and Sauer kraut so now it’s a valid opinion, since I have heard a Weird Al song

Sebastian: What’d you think about the rest? Did I fuck up anywhere?

Me: It was good. I’m glad you went with the truth

Sebastian: It’s a good story

Me: makes you sound like a selfless hero

Sebastian: I AM a selfless hero, thank u very much

Sebastian: But it’s also our story and I like it

Sebastian: Wouldn’t change a single thing

You stared at his texts for a good minute before getting the courage to type what came next.

Me: No regrets? Really?

His answer came almost instantly.

Sebastian: None at all

Sebastian: That fight over the weekend sucked, but I think we needed it. Cleared some things up for me at least

The fight hadn’t been what you’d been going for. You weren’t fishing for any apology. In fact, you weren’t really sure why you’d asked.

Sebastian: I should be home in an hour or two. Think you’ll be up still?

Me: I make no promises, but I’ll try

Sebastian: See you soon sweetheart

A hand on your shoulder woke you. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see Sebastian smiling at you from where he was knelt in front of the couch.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah. Unless you’ve been ignoring my texts, you fell asleep like, five minutes after you said you’d try to stay awake.”

“Shit, I suck.”

“Nah,” he assured you. “Blame Helen and Dr. Chowdhury. They’re the ones making your body literally attack itself.”

“Mmm.” You blinked a few times, trying to clear the sleep from your eyes. As you looked at his face, you remembered your decision to tell him about your family. “Hey, Seb? I wanna talk to you about something.”

He smoothed his hand over your hair, cupping the back of your neck. “Can it wait ‘til tomorrow? We’ve both had a long day and I’m beat.”

“Suppose it can.”

“Good.” Before you could say anything, he slid one arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you easily. “Then let’s get a good night sleep and talk about it tomorrow.”

“What are you—I can walk, you know.”

“And I can carry you.” Any response you’d had was cut off when he walked past the guest room and nudged open his bedroom door with his hip. He set you down on his bed and leaned over you, arms straight with hands next to your shoulders. “We done saying obvious things?”

No. “This is your room.”

“Yeah,” he raised an eyebrow. “That okay?”

Was it? You searched his eyes, looking for something… a reason, perhaps? Why were you in his room? “I—I guess.”

“Yeah?” Behind his bravado, you could finally see a slight hesitation. A little insecurity. That flicker helped calm your nerves. Sure, you still didn’t know why he wanted you here, but it was nice to see that he wasn’t sure about it either. Equal ground and all that.

“Yeah. Long as you don’t steal the blankets.”

Your teasing unlocked his grin and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before standing up straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

There it was again.

“I, uh, I need to wash my face and, uh, grab my pajamas.” And have a moment alone to think so I don’t explode from whatever the fuck this feeling in my chest is. “Can I walk myself, or do you want to carry me?”

“Hurry back,” he said in lieu of an answer.

When you closed the guest bedroom door to change clothes, you leaned back against it for a second and tried to calm your heart.

Sure, you’d cuddled on the couch over the last few weeks. It wasn’t like this was much different.

But it was.

He’d started calling you sweetheart. He’d started kissing your forehead. He’d started holding your hand more. You’d started holding his hand. As in initiating the physical contact.

This wasn’t just cuddling, you thought to yourself as you grabbed your pajamas from the dresser. The thought was scary, but you almost didn’t care.

And, after you’d gone through your bedtime routine and hesitantly pushed open his door, all of your concerns flew away when he grinned at you and held open the sheets for you. As soon as you were secure in his arms, you came to the terrifying realization that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Sleeping in the same bed!?! The world knowing about her cancer!? Her wanting to tell Seb about her past?! What is the next thing that’ll go wrong? (Because you know it’s not all smooth sailing from here)

Chapter 14: The First Conversation

#sebastianxreader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian x reader #marve fanfic #mcu

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

A Man, a Woman, and a Child (Sriracha, Part 23.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Each one of you slowly starts to get a hold on the new family life you had to face. You even slowly stopped being angry with Hopper, which was the best possible outcome.

A/N: So, here, have some nice, sweet fluff before the angst takes over the next chapter.

Word count: 5.3 K

Tagging: @nemodoren, @creedslove

Master list: H E R E

It was a really slow process, to bond with Eleven in the way you did and wanted to. Not that you had some bad blood or whatever, you just really meant the thing with slow steps at a time. She was important to Jim, so there first needed to be some trust built before you could move on to become friends or something more.

And both of you really tried - you both put time into it, you cooked together and cleaned up the place together with Jim. While he was more of a Jim Croce guy, you brought along an old vinyl your granny gave you. It was the I Was Wondering / Where Evil Grows vinyl by the Poppy Family and you loved the second song particularly because it was somehow... You just never heard a song like that before.

When she heard it for the first time, she was mesmerized. This was certainly something way different than Jim’s guitar ballads - it was sung by a lady and it was free and there were so many sounds that shouldn't get along the way they did, but it sounded really good in the end. She still liked Nena and other pop artists you were playing better, but she watched as you two started to dance in front of her, singing the song by heart.

Your grandma loved it.

Hopper soon joined you with his completely outdated dance moves and Eleven just sat there on the chair, watching as he gently held your waist and how you giggled when he spun you a bit too fast. Suddenly, you came to her, taking her hand to yours, leading her to the improvised dancefloor as well. First, she was almost too freaked out from watching you two making complete fools out of yourself, but you made her move in the end.

And she loved the song ever since, listening to it when either of you was in the cabin with her, trying to dance to it. It was a bit groovy, but she liked it.

As time passed, Jim got less and less cautious about you spending time with them at the cabin, occasionally letting you stay throughout the whole weekend. It was a bit weird, being around the whole two days, watching how did they spend their time - but then Jim started to make you anticipate what was happening - like playing card and board games, the big cleaning up happening on Sunday and sometimes just... Talking.

And the first sign of you and Eleven breaking the ice came by pretty soon - she wanted to read you a bedtime story again. Jim was standing behind the door from the start, ready to step in if Eleven has some questions at you.

But she never did. She was just enjoying your presence - since you were a woman and you were giving her the feeling of having an actual mother figure around.

Slowly, Jim allowed you to teach Eleven some actual English so she wouldn't speak in words only. You decided to teach her the basic phrases first - like saying hello and good morning, teaching her when to say please and to thank the person afterward. She was a fast learner - in the nights, she caught your palm, leading her to her room as she said goodnight to Hopper, kissing his beardy cheek, making you do the same. If she had to behave and learn things, you both had to learn alongside her, mirroring the things you taught her.

She was interested in the girly things as well - when you were putting some light make-up in the morning, she always watched the whole process - she watched the way you put mascara on your eyelashes and some lip balm. You always made sure to give her some as well, making her giggle every time since it was such a strange feeling.

But the thing Eleven was most amazed by was when you decided to do yourself some hairstyle. It could be only a quick ponytail or bun, or an intricate French braid; she watched every move with pure amazement. Her mouth was opened up and her eyes were shining when she watched you.

Just as you were becoming a huge part of Eleven's life, and Jim's as well, some boundaries need to be set straight - Jim talked with Eleven, telling her that you can't know anything about the Lab, the Demogorgons, her powers, the gate... You had to be blind around these things. It wasn't that Jim didn't want to tell you - he made it so he could keep you safe.

The fewer people knew about what happened, the better - and Jim didn't want to put you in such a dangerous position. You were aware that Eleven is a secret and you never talked to anyone about her. Nobody in the town knew, except Flo and you, where does Jim live or what's he doing there. You made sure not to tell anyone.

One weekend, it was the third weekend of you staying in the cabin, a huge box in the middle of the living room surprised you. You stood there, it was around noon, watching both Eleven and Jim. She was excited and you could see that, yet you were partially scared about their surprise.

"Okay, what do you two have for me here, hm?" - You asked and put your sports bag down to look at the box. Eleven looked at Jim and he nodded, allowing her to tell you.

"A surprise." - El tapped the top of the box with her fingers, thinking about what to say next. She was slowly getting better and better - she could at least sometimes speak in whole sentences when she was in the mood. - "A promise." - She looked you in the eyes and you nodded, kneeling to look into the box.

"I am a man of my word, you know?" - Jim kneeled down next to you as well, helping you with the unpacking. You were looking at a serious lot of planks and wood, small and big screws and nails... Was it the bed he promised you? You smiled at him, shaking your head as you laughed silently.

"A bed. Wow. I'm honored, Mr. Hopper." - You whispered. You wanted to kiss him, badly. You wanted to catch his jaw in your palm and just give him a smooch. But that would be way out of boundaries. Jim asked you about keeping this more affectionate behavior out of Eleven's presence - you were allowed to suck the hell out of him in the town, you could get lost in his quiet humming in the bedroom but when Eleven could see you in action, you could barely touch him.

Holding hands and occasional cheek kisses were okay, but nothing more.

"I thought we can build it together, you, me and El. As a family, if you will." - He said quietly when Eleven ran off to fetch his screwdrivers and hammer. That caught your attention - you turned your face to him, standing up.

A family. He never talked about you as a family. Eleven was his family and you were his family, but separately. Not as a whole. This was the first time he called you family as a whole since he knew you would be quite comfortable with hearing such a thing at that moment. He also had a thing planned out you didn't yet know about, that was for sure.

"Are you for real?" - You whispered, hugging his waist with one of your arms. The man hugged your shoulder back and nodded, looking a bit... Softened. The man next to you softened just like that. Eleven just smiled when she saw you hugging in the living room, putting the things Hopper needed down on the ground.

You spent a whole day building that bed in the bedroom, which you made Jim clean up when you were gone. Any of you didn't know what the hell you are supposed to do with it, but Jim put in his best efforts. Eleven was running around with the smallest screws and nails - she clearly didn't know what's that for, so you waved at her, inviting her to sit down between your knees as you both watched Hopper mumbling various curse words. She held it in her palms and laughed at the sight of mildly infuriated Hopper. For an unknown reason, she caught your arm and made you hug her even tighter.

It took a hell of a long time, but at nine p.m., the construction was ready. The bed was looking really nice - it was modern and looking fresh. Eleven has fallen asleep around half past eight in your arms. More or less, Hopper had built the bed all by himself and when it was finished, he picked up Eleven and brought her to her bed, tugging her in. While Hopper had been gone, you picked up the rest of the things that hadn't been used anywhere. Which was kind of scary; you trusted Hopper, you did, but these things were meant to be mantled somewhere in the bed.

You were worried that it just breaks down under you in the middle of the night and it was a rather scary thought creeping in your mind.

"Nice bed you have here, mister." - You said when he came back into the room, cleaning up the last tools laying on the ground. - "But where's a new mattress? You still kept the one where we both barely fit."

"I got you a bed, the rest will come with time." - Hopper hummed back and you nodded with a bit closed eyes. Sure. He just forgot again, didn't he? That was typical Hopper. - "The clerk told me it doesn't creak. What do you say about that?" - Hopper sat down and put his elbows on his knees. The bed didn't make a single sound. And it hadn't broken down either.

"And what should I take our of that?" - You put your hands on your hips and walked a few steps closer to him teasingly.

"That the bed doesn't make a sound." - He rose his eyebrows and you came just in front of him, so close that he could touch you. And he indeed put his hand on your thigh. You almost didn't remember how passion felt. Hopper hadn't touched you in ages, except occasional eating out session, which was so rare, that you couldn't grasp any feeling out of that.

He hadn't been inside you in months. Literal months - in December, January, and February, he wasn't there at all. Most of March, you spent with El and stayed overnight only occasionally. And when you did, you slept either on the couch or you slept next to him, but you acted like five-year-olds. If there was an actual chance to get it on when Eleven was asleep, you were up for it. You were horny as hell when you thought about it. Just as a couple of teenagers.

"And do you want to show me by any chance, big guy?" - You asked and ruffled his hair a bit, tugging it playfully. Hopper leaned you in, so he could bury his face into your belly.

"Dear God, you don't even know how much I've thought about showin' you how quiet is this new bed. Take 'em off, come on." - He looked at you. You took a quick breath in and listened to the quiet house for a little longer before you started to tugged your sweatpants down a bit. Immediately, you could feel his fingers putting your t-shirt a bit up. - "You're goin' to be the death of me, baby, I swear." - He mumbled and kissed a small way between your boobs. It was a wet trail leading down, just a small bit above the hem of your panties. You didn't even realize that your eyes are closed, that your breath is heavy and that you're ridiculously wet under the panties.

You realized once he stopped and the trail of kisses coldened since he stopped with the kissing. You smiled when you saw him looking at you with an adoring look. Jim was looking at you like he had never seen a naked woman before. Let alone seeing you naked.

"What are you after, Jim Hopper?" - You whispered with a smile and sat down on the bed, tugging his hips between your spread legs, slowly laying down. - "What on Earth are you after?"

"You're speakin' about me like I'm a goddamn mystery, are you okay?" - James asked while he however about above you with a sweet smile on his lips.

"I always wanted to tell you that you're a mystery and so fucking full of trouble." - You moaned and unbuttoned his shirt quickly. Hopper wanted to tell you something, but you pressed your lips onto him to shut him up. - "But that's exactly what made me fall in love because nothing is turning me on than trouble, you idiot." - You smiled and moaned into his lips and let the night carry you both on the same wave.

Jim had to leave the cabin for two whole days after that, so you took a small holiday off from your job and college so Eleven wouldn't stay alone. She was in pure wonder. Hopper never stayed there on weekdays - he always left early in the morning and came at 8-1-5. Now, you were there, for the whole time.

She could come to you, talk to you, ask you about things, watch movies with you and listen to music with you. And she loved every while of it because she didn't have to alone. She loved it when you just hugged her suddenly or smoothed her shoulder. Or when you both sat above an opened book - it was quite interesting to learn new words and read new books with you.

The evening before Hopper was supposed to get back, you were reading Eleven a bedtime story about the bear family. This time, it didn't seem to calm Eleven down in any way - this time, it seemed that it brought her more questions than answers.

"Okay, sweetheart." - You suddenly closed the book and furrowed at her a bit. She opened up her big eyes even more than before, watching you. The bedtime story wasn't over, why were you speaking to her?

"What's going on inside your head, hm?" - You smoothed the tip of her nose with your finger and smiled. - "You're thinking about something. What's that about?"

Eleven shook her head a bit and you nodded understandingly. - "So, if you tell me what's wrong, I'll get you an Eggo, will that make you talk?" - You smiled even more wickedly, raising your eyebrows at her. Her lips put on an even bigger smile and she nodded. - "Go on, then."

"I'm thinking about mom." - She said quietly and you stiffened for a second. This was a tricky situation, per se. She gave you her hand when you offered him yours. You held it tightly.

"And what with moms are you thinking about?" - You asked after you watched Eleven looking at your palms for a second. She took a long breath in, thinking about the answer.

"Hopper told me that I have a mom. I asked." - She looked you in the eyes and honestly, you were a bit scared about what was coming your way. She was tearing up a bit as she tried to think about the sentence that she wanted to say next. - "Who is she?"

You had no answer to her question, but you didn't want to see her cry. She was too precious for any of that bullshit. She had Jim and you, she was yours just as you were hers. That's what was going on.

But unfortunately, even Eleven had to have a mom somewhere. You didn't know who or where she was, you had no idea what happened between her and someone that was so drastic that she had to leave Eleven. You couldn't explain any of this to that girl even if that was what you'd like to do the most in the whole world.

"Don't cry. Come on." - You whispered and held her hand even tighter for a small moment. - "You have nothing to worry about now, okay?" - You rose her gentle palm to your lips and kissed it gently. She gave you a terrifying look and after a small while, she nodded.

But then the biggest shock of the whole evening came. She just spilled the question out as if nothing was happening. It came all of a sudden.

"Are you my mom?" - Eleven asked abruptly. You furrowed and licked your lips, looking that child in her eyes. This was such a hard question to answer without being on one side of the whole thing. You were taking care of her for the last month and a half. Of course, you had some feelings for her that could be described as motherly. You weren't the one to answer this question, yet you did.

You nodded and smiled, smoothing her palm with your fingers. She had such small, gentle palms. - "Yes, baby, I'm your mom." - You whispered. What were you doing? What on Earth were you doing? You weren't her mom. She had a mother somewhere out there.

Yet, you got up and brought her the frozen Eggo you promised her before climbing on the bed next to her, hugging her and bringing her closer next to you. She fell asleep this time in no time at all, gently snorting into your shoulder, she hadn't even eaten the Eggo.

You fell asleep next to her, holding her in your arms. Hopper almost melted at the sight, when he arrived home the other day, bringing the new mattress with him. His girls were safe and well, just as he hoped for. But unfortunately, Hopper opening the door had woken you up.

"You're home already?" - You mumbled and gently let her go to get up from the bed. - "I think the bedtime story had brought me some sleep as well." - You giggled and closed the door behind both of you. Immediately, you went for a sleepy hug, since you missed his scent and tall body next to yours, before tugging his shirt to kiss him.

"How were things going here?" - Hopper asked and let you go to start brewing the morning coffee. In the meantime, you brushed your teeth and combed your hair.

"It was fine. We finished the animal chapter in that book she has, had cooked something, watched movies... It was nice. But she did something I didn't expect." - You mumbled and took a mug full of coffee out of his hands.

"What happened?" - Hopper asked with horror in his voice. Did Eleven said something weird that freaked you out? Did she did something that manifested her powers and you noticed it? Did you know the secret?

"Calm down, it's just a... It's a really important thing for me. She asked me if I'm her mom." - You said and looked him in the eyes. That wasn't as bad as Hopper expected, but obviously, it was emotionally important to you.

"She did?" - Hopper exhaled slowly. The relationship between you and Eleven was growing strong. Now, he believed it. It was natural that you got more closer to her than Jim from a different point of few. But he at the moment he really understood how deep that relationship went in a month only. - "And what did you tell her?"

"What should I tell her, Jim? I took care of her for the last month, she's a little girl that needs a warm hug and a bit of love. Of course, I told her that I am her mom." - You looked him in the eyes and held his palm in yours. You knew he's worried out of his mind for both you and her. But there wasn't anything to be worried about. - "Hey. Don't you give me this look, Jim? I'm serious with you and her. And to be honest, if you're her dad than I can take the role of her mom. It's my only remaining option if I want to stick around."

"You could say no." - Hopper answered and caught your palm once again. You shooked your head and smiled a bit.

"I couldn't, Jim. She was crying and vulnerable, which made me soften as well." - You explained quietly and Hopper nodded. He knew that he can believe you. You weren't a liar and you didn't mean to stick around, you would be far gone at the moment. You meant every word you said. That was when Hopper finally made his decision. It was a now or never situation.

"Do you think you can stop at the station after you're done at the college on Monday?" - He looked you in the eyes and you rose your eyebrows playfully.

"A quickie in the bathroom? Exciting and adventurous, we never have done this." - You answered back and drank the rest of your coffee. Hopper chuckled at the thoughts about what you just put on the table. - “I need to go now, we’ll be helping grandma move around some furniture today. See you on Monday, then?” - You took the already packed bag out of the bedroom. Jim nodded and watched your car leave the driveway.

When he got up on Monday morning, he spent way more time in the bathroom than he usually did - which, accompanied by You Don't Mess Around With Jim, didn't escaped Eleven's attention.

“What are you doing?” - She asked and pushed her head into the door of the bathroom and watched Jim trimming his beard. He was acting weird and she could sense it right away.

“What do you mean, kiddo?” - He asked back with half of his face covered in shaving cream. She pointed at him, raising her eyebrow slightly.

“Not normal.” - She mumbled and waited for an answer, but left the room once she figured out that she most likely won't get any. She watched him while she ate breakfast. There was something off as he put the short-sleeved uniform on. He was nervous and sweaty. Could something go wrong with you? Were you all alright? Jim made Eleven really nervous.

“I'll be back here, as usual, kiddo, clean up the place, alrite?” - He looked at her when he put the typical hat on. Eleven looked into her bowl before nodding again. - “Stay safe.” - He mumbled and closed the door. Eleven went to the door and locked it behind Hopper, looking at the empty cabin once again.

Let's say that Hopper could concentrate for shit the whole day. Everyone thought that maybe something went wrong with you or something like that. Powell even told him to stay at the station for the sake of it, venturing out to look at old Henderson’s garden and his ever going missing gnomes. It was half-past ten when he called the Melvald’s.

“Jeffrey on the line, Melvald’s general store, Hawkins, what can I do for you?” - A voice of a young man answered with a clear fuck-off manner, but Jim just ignored that.

“May I speak to Joyce? Is she there?” - Hopper asked and listened to the bits of conversation going on while Jeffrey was giving Joyce the phone.

“Hopper, what’s going on?” - She asked with a lighthearted tone. Hopper bit his lip and exhaled loudly, leaning into his chair. - “It’s here?” - She asked.

“It's here.” - Hopper said nervously and Joyce walked further away from her colleagues.

“Come on. You should relax, it's going to be fine. You're already doing great.” - She tried to calm him down, but Hopper just exhaled again.

“No, Joyce, this is not goin’ good. What if she says no? And what the hell I'm supposed to tell her?” - Hopper looked in front of himself and waited for anything that Joyce was about to tell him.

"Look, Hop, do you want me to help? I think I can help you with all of this. The first thing you need to do is to calm down. You're panicking a bit too much." - She laughed from the other side, telling Hopper to light up a cig, take a pen and a piece of paper.

You came by around two p.m., walking into the building with a bag over your shoulder. You were looking healthy and just fine, so no-one really knew why Hopper was so out of the world. Could there be something else wrong? We're you pregnant or severely ill? Were you about to die in a horrendous death? No matter what happened to you, everyone was watching you as a saint.

"Am I dirty or something?" - You mumbled to Flo, watching Powell and Callahan watching you. You furrowed at the two boys, putting the cake you brought them on a small cabinet under the window. She just shook her head, still watching every move you made.

"What have you do with him?" - Powell joined you on your way to his office. You were even more confused than before.

"Is something wrong with him?" - You asked worriedly and let Callahan join you as well on the way to Jim’s office. Both of the men were suspiciously staring you down.

"You tell us. He's on the edge of breaking down the whole day." - Callahan muttered out and jumped when Hopper suddenly manifested in front of the small hall leading into his office. Both of them nodded to Jim and turned around to go back to their desks.

"Shall we?" - Jim said with a stiffed smile and sent a rather unpleasant look to his colleagues. You looked at the colleagues as well, being completely terrified of Jim. He rearranged his beard, you could smell cologne and he certainly has done something to his hair.

“You're freaking me out, Jim. Why did Callahan and Powell act as if I was supposed to be rolled over by a car or dead? And why do you wear cologne?” - You closed the door behind you and sat down into the plushy chair. Hopper did look like he's about to break down in front of you and you were a bit freaked out.

You could see him looking at a piece of paper with word chaotically written all over it - Jim was about to tell you something, obviously, so you straightened up and listened with a blush on your cheeks. This man was certainly something else as far as you could say.

“I don't have an idea of how should I start.” - Jim looked at you with panic in his face, clearly being even more freaked out than you. You nodded and waited for what he wanted to tell you. - “But I know that I don't want to lose you.” - He looked at you and you nodded. This was just weirdly going uphill and downhill.

“You are not losing me.” - You said with a smile. Was all of this about Eleven again? You swore to God that if he's about to do some of his jealousy theatrics, you're out of the office in the next second.

“Let me say, we had a wild start. And I still don't believe it’s nine months since it all happened.” - He looked at you from his paper suddenly, making you stare back at him. He surely was about to have some kind of speech and the unknown was making you nervous and uncomfortable. He was getting up.

Weren't you supposed to try out a quickie in the damn bathroom?

“You repeated me a lot of times that I'm a mess. And I am one, I felt like I really didn't... You know, have my place anywhere in Hawkins or let alone, the whole world. I was a junkie and an alcoholic with a bad temper, which Impartially even today, but you managed to make the things better.” - Jim stood up in front of the plushy chair. Somehow, you were hilarious at that moment, since you looked like a deer in the headlights, ready to pass out or run away at any given chance.

Your eyes were widening with every step he took. And you, my dear, started officially panicking at that moment.

“What are you talking about?” - You mumbled back and watched what he was doing; step after step, word by word.

“Be quiet for a moment, will you?” - Hopper asked and closed his eyes to contain himself and probably, to think about the next words he wanted to tell you. You just nodded looked him in the eyes again. - “And then she came by. And everything was like a fuckin’ rollercoaster if you know what I mean. I sorta expected you to run away as soon as you get to know, but to my surprised, you stayed there. And that was the moment I told myself Damn, this woman is really somethin’ else.”

And at that moment you just stopped everything when he got on his knee. Was this... Did he... You weren't capable of finishing any normal sentence no matter how hard you tried to. You just leaned in and gulped with your heart beating.

“And to be honest, from that moment on, I'm just wonderin’ about one small thing’. And its been buggin’ me off a lot recently.” - Jim took your hand in his and looked you in the eyes. You still were internally panicking. - “Since we already kinda have a child together...” - He mumbled as a joke and it made you chuckle. - “Would you be up to marry me by any chance?” - The man asked quietly. You opened up your lips, but nothing came out as you were looking at him.

There was a long moment of silence when your brain was processing everything that was going on at the moment. You were panicking, freaking out and excited. Even a bit terrified. It happened just like that, nobody could prepare you for a question like that.

And that jackass even put it up like a casual dinner offer. There was no Will you marry me? or Do you want to spend the rest of your life by my side? No. He just asked if you're up for marriage. This thing was so Hopper that it hurt. But that was what you loved about that jackass.

“I guess I am if you're up for it as well.” - You laughed as you started to cry, kissing him with a big smile. You certainly didn't expect that the man who is kneeling will pick you up and turn around. But it made you laugh. After a ton of necessary kisses, you looked him in the eyes.

“You didn't write the speech by yourself, did you?” - You asked quietly, looking at the small silver ring on your finger. It was quite heavy, but you knew that it will go away with time. Hopper bit his lower lip, looking away from you. - “But Joyce did a pretty good job at making me cry, I need to say. But by any chance...” - You whispered and locked the door.

“Are you up for a quickie in your office, since the bathroom didn't quite play out?” - You wondered, already taking the jeans off.

And at that moment, Hopper did know that he wasn't wrong with proposing to you.

#jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #james jim hopper #jim hopper stranger things #stranger things netflix #eleven #eleven stranger things #jane ives #jane hopper #we stan this man and this relationship

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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Give me a word that rhymes with your first name: Bethany. If you were in a band, which instrument would you like to play in it? I can’t play any instruments. :/ If I wasn’t an idiot I would have kept up with piano, but noooo. Which do you find more intriguing: the past or the future? Well, I spend a lot of time dwelling on the past that’s for sure. You’d think the future would be, but it actually terrifies me. How did you find out exactly where it is that babies come from? My mom told me. I don’t remember exactly when we had the convo or how it went, but yeah. Who, in your opinion, is the most gorgeous person on Earth? Alexander Skarsgard. ha.

Did you wake up to a text from anybody today? I haven’t gone to bed, yet. I doubt I’ll have any texts when I wake up, though. Describe your perfect 3-course dinner: (starter, main, desert and drink) Starter: Perhaps a pasta salad. I love this asiago pasta I get from my store’s deli. Main: Garlic Parmesan boneless wings. Desert: Cheesecake. Drink: Coffee. Do you find parodies of songs funny? I don’t listen to any anymore. I used to listen to Weird Al Yancovic back in the day. What is your favourite song by Lady Gaga? I like Applause, Bad Romance, Do What U Want (ugh, minus he who shall not be named), and Million Reasons. If you could have any pet in the world, what would you have? I love having a doggo. <33 What’s a combination of two colours that you like? I love pastels together. Are you a good speller? I believe so. This or That Blondes or brunettes? Apples or oranges? Stay in or go out? Day or night? Alcoholic or non-alcoholic? Tea or coffee? Comedy or drama? Television or computer? Kiss or hug? Colour or black and white? Darwinism or creationism? Right wing or left wing? Silence or noise? Texting or calling? True or False? I am a male. I like dance music. I have brown eyes. It’s the summer. I am single. I love my friends. <<< (I don’t have any friends) I threw up last time I was drunk. I miss somebody right now. I think a lot before I go to sleep. The only thing I seem to do is eat. I think that war is a terrible thing. <<< (I don’t think anyone thinks it’s great) There is a certain celebrity I find very attractive. I have taken a bus in the past week. You: What’s your full name? Stephanie. What’s your date of birth? July 28th. What colour is your hair? Naturally dark brown, but I dye it red. What colour are your eyes? Brown. In which city do you live? I don’t like sharing that. Do you have any siblings? I have 2 brothers. Do you get on with your parents? Yes. My mom and I are very close, she’s my best friend. How tall are you? Like 5′4. Do you currently have a job? No. Are you overweight, underweight or neither? Underweight. Describe a typical outfit you’d wear: Leggings and a graphic tee. What are your interests? Spending time with my family, Tumblr, doing surveys, checking social media, watching YouTube, watching TV, listening to music, reading, coloring... Do you have any hobbies? ^^ Why are you taking this survey? Why not. Can you… …draw? …dance? …sing? …read? …write? …fight? …tie a knot in a cherry stick? …make people laugh easily? …play any instruments? …hide your feelings well? <<< Not as well anymore, though... …hold back on your opinion? …give lovebites? …be manipulative? …think, quickly? Your Past. Did you go through any embarrassing phases? My life. What colours have your hair been? I had blonde highlights for several years, black hair for a little bit, and red. What kind of clothes did you wear? Jeans and a tee until a few years ago when I started wearing just leggings and oversized graphic tees. I didn’t even own any sweats until a few years ago. Did you do anything you regret? I have a lot of regrets. Did you do anything you’re pleased you did? Some things. Were you much different from how you are now? Very. What was your favourite song when you were little? I liked the mainstream stuff at the time, like NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, etc. Take me through a nice memory of yours: I really miss my childhood days. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. How old were you when you had your first relationship? 16. Did you ever think you’d turn out how you have? I didn’t envision becoming a complete failure or disappointment who can’t seem to be a functioning adult. What were some interests you used to have that you don’t now? I used to actually have a social life. Did you like school? I mean, overall I guess I did. I wouldn’t have said so during it, though. I’d get so stressed, overwhelmed, and burnt out. Did you have any crushes on celebrities? Several. Your Present. What room are you in? Mine. Are you wearing any make-up? Nope. What else are you wearing? Socks, leggings, and a sweatshirt. Are you in a relationship? No. Is anybody speaking to you? (online or in the real world) No. Are you listening to music? No, I’m watching a YouTube video. What are you thinking about? Stuff that has come up in this survey. Who would you like to see right now? No one. Is the TV on? Yes. Is anything annoying you? Not at this exact moment. How are you temperature-wise? I’m fine. What kind of emotions are you currently experiencing? Meh. Is your hair up or down? Up. Where is your mother? In her bed, asleep. Your Future: What job do you want to have? I don’t know.

Describe the home you want to live in: I mean, ideally I’d have a house with an ocean view. Highly doubt that’ll ever happen, but perhaps I could at least live closer to the beach. I’d love wooden floors, a patio deck, and a balcony. Where in the world do you want to live? I think I’ll like stay in California, but definitely a different city. Maaaybe another state, but I don’t know where. Is marriage a possibility? I don’t see it ever happening for me. How about kids? No. How many kids would you want? 0. Any names that you may just name them with? Do you want any pets? I’ll always have a doggo. Do you want to live a long life? I’d like to live a productive, happy life. Do you worry about how you will look when you’re older? That’s the furthest thing from my mind. I have a lot more important things to worry about. Will you try to stay youthful for as long as possible? In some ways. What will you think when you look back on your current self? I hope one day how things are now will just be a thing of the distant past and I’ll be in a completely different place in life. How old would you say you act? I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m 30 years old, but other times I’m like, “I feel like I’m 84″, ha. I guess that’s more physically cause of my back and hip pain and other health issues. And just some of my personality traits and interests make me feel like I’m an old lady. Otherwise, I still look around when someone says they need an adult and then I’m like, “Oh... that’s me.” I feel like I’m younger in a lot of ways as well and look like I’m still 20. Guess it just depends. Any piercings or tattoos? My ears are pierced. Ever get really hungry in the middle of the night? That happens a lot, it’s so annoying. Are you considered an attractive person by others? Ha, no. What’s your sexual orientation? Straight. How do you act when you’re drunk? I became more chatty. And probably annoying. Do you enjoy the feeling of being intoxicated? Sometimes I did, at least for a little while. Any good feeling was short lived. Describe your perfect day: A few hours at the beach. What is one thing you could never live without? Oxygen. Who is one person you could never live about? I don’t want to think about losing my parents. I can’t let my mind even go there... Where is your phone? Next to me on my bed.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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lunarwkh · 5 years

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hello! i’m not saying you have to, but i highly, highly recommend listening to this song while reading this. it was my inspiration for writing this and is a also just an amazing song.

TW; g*n usage, mentions of s**cide and s**cidal thoughts, mentions of violence

[4:02] The sun began to set, dawn creeping up on you sooner than you had expected. You stood inside of a large mall - a place you and a few others had come to call home over the past… you didn’t even know how long. The concept of time had become foreign to you the longer life went on.

No one expected the apocalypse to come so quickly, but it wasn’t long before earth’s cookie began to crumble. Everyone seemed to handle it in various ways, too. Some people prayed and wished and searched for a cure that didn’t - and would never - exist. Others decided to spare themselves the pain of being turned or eaten alive through different ways of suicide. And some, although few, had made it their life’s mission to live through this. (A hilarious concept, you always told yourself. How could one escape their inevitable death?)

Your cold, frail hands were planted on the Plexiglas doors, though it was hard to see outside with all the objects barricading you in. Even when things were calmer than most days, you were still greeted with a real-life horror show whenever you let your dull eyes peer out to get a glimpse of the broken world before you. But, your curiosity always got the best of you, even if it left you feeling emptier in the end.

“You alright?” a low voice asked from behind you, your ears perking up in response. You turned your head to face the figure the words came from, and you weren’t surprised to find that it was your closest friend, Park Jisung. He was tall and lanky, his brown hair in need of a cut (you reminded yourself to look for some scissors later and take care of it for him) and his clothes baggy, covered in stains of various shades and colors. He once fit into those, but when your food supply began running low and you had to start rationing it he lost quite a bit of weight. You always tried to offer him some of what little you had, but he would promptly decline, saying how you needed it more than him.

You could never understand why he cared about you so much. During times like this, most people just fend for themselves, but he always bent over backwards to make sure you were alright. ‘But that’s just how friends are,’ you’d always tell yourself, trying to be rational, though jumping to conclusions was hard not to do.

Jisung stepped closer, seemingly awaiting a response. “Yeah,” you forced a faint smile, “I’m just fine.”

He nodded, shifting awkwardly. “It’s going to be night soon. We should start heading back to the others,” he told you, eyes scanning the ground.

You fully turned around, crossing your arms as you stared him down. “What is it with you, Jisung?”

He looked back at you, eyes wide for a split second before his face contorted into a confused look. He was hiding something from you and it was painfully obvious, but you doubted he’d admit it.

“Nothing is, Y/N. Why’d you ask?”

“Because, you’ve been acting weird lately. Around me,” you paused and sighed. “Did I… Did I say or do something to upset you? Because you can always tell me if I did.”

By this point, the latter looked like that of a lost puppy. His tone, however, was cold and defensive: “I don’t know what you’re on about. Stop assuming shit, it won’t make things any easier.”

You scoffed in response, feeling like you just got stabbed in the chest. “I have to find a pair of scissors,” you explained. “Your hair needs a trim; it’s getting too long.”

“And that matters because..?”

“It’s going to get in your eyes and soon you won’t be able to see. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have a pair with us.” Jisung couldn’t argue with that, so he instead softly nodded.

“Then let’s go,” he spoke.

You spent the next twenty-or-so minutes searching around, coming out unsuccessful each time. It had grown dark, the sky outside a shade of pitch black. You knew it would be best to quit now and search again the following morning, but Jisung insisted that the two of you find what you had been searching for in the first place.

You followed behind him, his pace rather quick. “Jisung, are you sure it wouldn’t be best to turn back now? I can find the scissors tomorrow, so there’s no need to rush.”

He stopped for a second, looking down as he seemingly pondered something. Sighing, he parted his lips to speak. “If you want to turn back, then fine. I just…” his deep voice trailed off until there was no sound left, making it so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Jisung, cut the bullshit,” you spat, annoyed with how distant he had been lately. You stepped closer to him, the soles of your sneakers squeaking against the laminated flooring. “You’re hiding something from me. I thought we agreed that, no matter what, we would always tell each other everything. What happened to that, huh?” You had no clue where all this pent-up anger was coming from, or why you were unleashing it on the person you loved most.

He went silent, pupils darting to direct their attention anywhere else but you. “Jisung!” you snapped.

“What?” he sharply retorted, a sorrowful tone dripping from his words like poison from the fangs of a snake. You felt like you had just been bitten, your eyes starting to water. “What do you want me to say to you?” he continued, “That you mean the world to me? That without you I think I might as well be better off dead? The only reason I’ve been able to make it through each fucking day without trying to blow my fucking brains out is because of you. You’re what makes living in this shithole and breathing in this shitty, disease-riddled air so much more manageable.”

Your breath was caught in your throat, the feeling of being constricted making it hard for you to let any oxygen enter your body. Warm, salty tears flooded from your eyes, pouring out onto your red, puffy cheeks. Your sobs were soft, but could still be heard.

Jisung had seen enough, feeling that he’d caused enough damage by that point. He couldn’t stay there, not for the time being, so he turned on his heel and ran as far away as he could.

Turns out, that was going to be the biggest regret in his entire pitiful life.

It wasn’t very long after he went to make his escape that he heard a blood-curdling scream coming from where he had left you. He could physically feel his heart drop into his stomach, body going paralyzed. He couldn’t move, speak, much less breathe for what felt like an eternity - though it was only a few moments.

He thought he knew pure terror, the feeling of fear, but nothing could even hold a torch in comparison to whatever it was he was feeling right now. There’s was nothing more that he wanted than to wake up, silently begging for his body to do so and let him escape this hell of a nightmare.

But nothing happened. He found himself still standing in the same spot, your chilling screams still ringing through his ears. At this point, he couldn’t even tell if they were real or just his mind playing tricks on him. It took much longer than it should’ve for him to come back down to earth, but, the moment he did, he turned around and whipped his gun out from his back pocket. Holding it in his hands, he stared the monster tearing and eating away at your flesh, not hesitating to shoot the damned thing down. He shot his gun many times, though he had laid the creature to rest with the first bullet, but he was so angry and hurt and blinded by his emotions he didn’t realize that he was actively wasting his ammo.

Once he snapped out of his moment of rage, he dropped the gun, the weapon hitting the floor with a thud. Then he ran - harder than he ever had, faster than he ever thought he could, rushing to get to your body… or whatever would be left of it. For all he knew, you could’ve become a pile of blood and bones by the time he had gotten around to expelling the thing that had got you in the first place.

Upon reaching your bloodied form, Jisung felt the urge to look away, a slight taste of bile rising to the back of his throat. The stench was the worst thing he had ever smelled in his entire life, and he couldn’t tell if it was coming from the zombie laying sprawled out beside you, or if you had slowly started rotting in the time he spent blindly shooting his pistol around. The former made more sense, but Jisung was so out-of-touch with his surroundings that obvious things suddenly had giant question marks in front of them.

Trying to not cry, he knelt (more like fell to his knees, but he wouldn’t admit that he had let himself get so weak) beside you. Your thin fingers reached out to grab his face, but he linked his large hand with yours, pulling it to his chest. His brows furrowed, lips quivering as he tried to hold himself together, repressing the strong urge to just break down then and there. You were dying with every single second that passed and he thought that, if it would at least ease the dire situation a bit, he should stay strong for you in your final moments.

He wanted to say so much to you, but he was so broken even the mere thought of trying to verbalize all he felt for you was so far from his reach. It didn’t help that your grip on his hand was getting weaker quickly, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. You were barely holding on and seeing you like this felt like a stab straight to the heart.

“Ji-Jisung…” you began to croak out, his eyes watering more as you tried to force the words to come out your throat.

“I… I lov-,” your breathed hitched and you began violently coughing, blood dripping from the corner of your pale lips. “I love y-you. I al-always have. Please… P-Please carry on. For… For m-me. Please?” Jisung nodded his head almost violently, not quite processing all that you had said to him.

Your hand went limp, only being held up by his own; your eyes became hooded, barely open, but just enough that one could see the light vanish from them. You were truly gone, and Jisung never got the chance to tell you how much he loved you.

And then it hit him like lightening - you loved him and he mentally cursed himself for not taking the chance to say he felt the same.

He didn’t want to have to clean up this mess, or discard of your body once he had put you out of your misery a second time. He just wanted to lay with you and curl up behind your warm body, holding you close to him and whispering the sweetest of things into your ear until you would fall asleep. He wanted to be happy with you because he knew that he wasn’t ever going to get a chance at that again. But his dreams were shattered, torn down quicker than they had been built up. Your body was cold and your bright smile gone, never to appear again. You were just a corpse, nothing left of you except a million memories and a million wishes.

And, for the first time since the apocalypse had begun, Jisung cried.

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huahsu · 5 years

Text

YEAR OF THE GHOST DOG

[TL;DR version for the New Yorker -- I loved many great short songs and became obsessed with (1) a very old, much longer one (2) and YouTube comments this year.] [links to previous year’s lists at the bottom]

A while back, I found myself in an extended funk. The reasons are uninteresting and honestly a bit dumb, a mix of everyday bummers and more existential stuff, all of which manifested in a kind of 360º sluggishness. I couldn’t really figure my way out of it but I believed that I would eventually stop feeling this way.

One night, I saw that someone online was selling a copy of the Emulations “These Are the Things,” a magnificent soul ballad 7″ out of Oakland. I wasn’t exactly homesick for the Bay Area, but something about the song’s roots, as well as its overwhelming feeling of optimistic yearning, resonated with (through?) me. There’s a moment when the singer’s falsetto peaks, and the piano starts cascading, and things feel like they’re going to work out after all. The copy for sale wasn’t in great shape, and it cost $100, an extravagant amount of money to spend on a piece of music. But I convinced myself that I’d feel better at some point, weeks, months, or years later, and I’d listen to my Emulations single, and recall that weird summer/fall.

As often happened with independently produced records of the sixties and seventies, “These Are the Things” was pressed on styrene, rather than vinyl. Styrene is a kind of plastic that’s lighter, cheaper and much more fragile than vinyl, and you can tell the difference by a kind of hollow plink when you put it on a turntable. Styrene also means that it has a limited life, and that each time the needle drags across its grooves, the record degrades a little bit. Over time, styrene records that get played a lot no longer sound as crisp or clear (or so it seems). I listened to it once it arrived, feeling a bit of regret at this wild expenditure, but also imagining my future self’s gratitude. I imagined entering into communion with everyone who had played this copy before me. I decided to only listen to the song once a year, if that--after all, each time I listened to the record, the song was changing, slightly.

A few months later, I felt normal (whatever that means) again, and the record became a marker of...I’m not sure what--maybe a kind of blind, stubborn optimism. Someone years later uploaded the song onto YouTube, which means I can listen to it whenever I want. This fall, I was trying and failing to spend less time on the Internet. But I decided that, instead of going on Twitter and Facebook, I would just read comments fans left on YouTube. I became obsessed with reading all the intimate histories people shared with one another--the chance encounters, the teenage dates and breakups, the seventies shop owners who recalled the days when stocking the right hit single could cover an entire month’s rent. I was listening to the Emulations when I noticed this comment, from Deric Jackson, who was apparently one of the group’s members: “I sung this song when I was 19yrs old. It was a pleasure to record and send this messageout into the airways. I have been with the women that God had given me to marry when I was 22yrs old. I did not understand at that time I was singing about my own life and the women who I had not met, but how wonderful it is to be with my wife fo 35yrs and life is still a breath of fresh air and wonderful. I would like to say to all real men love your wife, never worship her only one to worship is God alone.“ I’m pretty agnostic about most things relating to providence. But I felt as though I had been living in these words: “I did not understand at that time...” Jackson’s song was a prophecy, maybe even a conjuring, of his own path, and I wonder what he hears when he listens to it now. Sometimes you don’t know what’s coming next. But there’s always another song, and it doesn’t always sound the same as the last time.

(LATE 2017 BUT I REALLY DOUBT ANYONE NOTICED AKA THE FRENCH “MO BAMBA”) Junior Bvndo, “T’as ça #3 (Kylian Mbappe)”

I WILL LISTEN TO ANYTHING THAT USES DISTORTION Sheck Wes, “Wanted” OR OLD SCHOOL STABS Santi feat. Shane Eagle and Amaarae, “Rapid Fire” EVEN MORE THAN THAT, I LIKE THINGS THAT SOUND MESSY AND SLOPPY BUT ARE ACTUALLY PERFECT Caleb Giles featuring Cleo Reed, “Name” WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN AS GOOD AS IF IT HAD BEEN PERFECT, THE WARPED AND SMUDGED BEAUTY IS WHAT MAKES IT BEAUTIFUL Tirzah, Devotion Niagara, Apologia SAME, BUT SLIGHTLY OFF-STEP Blood Orange, “Charcoal Baby” THE BEST GENRE OF MUSIC REMAINS “SADE” Sade, “Flower of the Universe” and “The Big Unknown” Amber Mark, “Love is Stronger Than Pride” Bon Iver and Moses Sumney, “By Your Side” Kelela, “Like a Tattoo” 808s AND HEARTBREAK AND NEAR-OCTOGENERIANS Swamp Dogg, “She’s All Mind All Mind” I WASN’T AS ENAMORED WITH A LOT OF “NEW JAZZ” BUT DID LIKE Sam Wilkes, Wilkes Sam Gendel and Sam Wilkes, Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar …WHICH REMINDED ME A BIT OF THIS FACEMELTING REISSUE (RIYL: ALICE COLTRANE, DON CHERRY, ETC ETC) John Tchicai, With Strings SPEAKING OF TERRIFIC JAZZ-ADJACENT STUFF Dos Santos, “Manos Anjenas” THE ORIGINAL “BIG MOOD” Okonkolo, Cantos THE YEAR I REALLY REKINDLED MY LOVE OF THE CELLO Clarice Jensen, For This From That Will Be Filled Oliver Coates, “A Church” …WHICH I DEFINITELY PREFER TO VIOLIN--ESP PIZZICATO--THOUGH THIS WAS QUITE GOOD Sudan Archives, “Nont for Sale” HARPS ALWAYS SOUND GOOD Leya, The Fool Meg Baird and Mary Lattimore, Ghost Forests ALWAYS HAVE TIME FOR WOODBLOCKS AND VIBES Kate NV, для FOR AS WELL AS MIAMI BASS SIGNIFIERS (KICKSTARTER FOR CITY GIRLS TO RAP OVER DJ BATTLECAT IN 2019) City Girls, “Act Up” AND BANJO DRONE...WHY NOT Nathan Bowles, Plainly Mistaken ALBUMS THAT I LIKED IN 2018, AND THAT I SENSE I WILL LIKE EVEN MORE BY THIS TIME NEXT YEAR Ben LaMarr Gay, Downtown Castles Can Never Block the Sun Neneh Cherry, Broken Politics AN ALBUM THAT I WISH WAS TEN ALBUMS Tierra Whack, Whack World AN ALBUM I WISH WAS JUST A LITTLE BIT LONGER Pusha-T, Daytona OF THE MANY REASONS I MOURN THE DEATH OF “THE ALBUM,” ONE IS THAT I ALWAYS LIKE TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE DO WITH THAT LAST SONG YG, “Bomptown Finest” OR HOW ALBUMS, FULL OF SIGNS, ANGLES, FLEETING MOMENTS, CIRCULATE AND RE-CIRCULATE Angelique Kidjo, Remain in Light AND HOW THEY ARE LIKE WHAT NOVELS REPRESENTED IN THE AGE OF POETRY—OPPORTUNITIES TO LIVE INSIDE COMPLEXITY, SPACE, A DEMOS U.S. Girls, In a Poem Unlimited ONE OF THE BEST ALBUMS OF THE YEAR WAS A SOUNDTRACK... Kendrick Lamar et al, Black Panther AND TEASER FOR Jay Rock, Redemption AND ANOTHER WAS JUST SOME RAP SONGS Earl Sweatshirt, Some Rap Songs WHICH ISN’T TO SAY ARTISTS DON’T STILL VALUE AND HAVE FUN WITH THE FORMAT Vince Staples, FM A TWENTY-FIVE TRACK ADVENTURE INTO VIBES Pink Siifu, ensley AND SOMETIMES TWENTY MINUTES OR SO IS ENOUGH boygenius, boygenius ONE MORE ALBUM THING – FIRST SONGS HAVE ALWAYS FELT LIKE THESIS STATEMENTS, AND STREAMING HAS ONLY APPLIED MORE PRESSURE TO THE SOOTHING, BEWITCHING, PERFECT WELCOME Mac Miller, “Come Back to Earth” MAC MILLER AND THUNDERCAT LOOK SO HAPPY HERE whole thing, but esp six minutes in, and even more so about nine minutes in THE BEST VIBES Show Dem Camp feat. Boj and Ajebutter 22, “Damiloun” Koffee, “Toast” HAPPY-GO-LUCKY B/W DEVIL-MAY-CARE Shoreline Mafia, “Nun Major” I LIKE NEF AND EPs PERFECTLY SUIT HIM Nef the Pharaoh and 03 Greedo, Porter 2 Grape

RAPPING AS FAST AS YOU CAN OVER FREESTYLE/HI-NRG WILL NEVER SOUND BAD TO ME… SOB X RBE, “Paid in Full” SOB X RBE, “Carpoolin’” …ALTHOUGH THEY ALSO SOUND SICK OVER FAKE GHOST DOG BEATS, TOO, THIS WAS ONE OF MY SONGS OF THE YEAR SOB X RBE, “Paramedic!” SAME WITH MEDHANE Medhane, “The Garden” TRIPPIE REDD PUTS OUT A LOT OF MUSIC FILLED WITH TRANSCENDENT MOMENTS, BUT RARELY MAKES TRANSCENDENT SONGS, AND IT PAINS ME A BIT THAT MY FAVORITE SONG OF HIS THIS YEAR WAS Diplo featuring Trippie Redd, “Wish” TRIPPY-ASS DOO-WOP Cuco, “Sunnyside” A STRONG HARMONY IS A VISION OF WHAT LIFE COULD BE Ben Pirani, “How Do I Talk to My Brother?” WHERE WERE U IN 94 Young Echo, Young Echo SWEAR I'VE NEVER HEARD MUSIC THIS “GREY” ManOnMars, ManOnMars IF YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE A FAKE D’ANGELO SONG, IT SHOULD BE THIS GOOD Patrick Paige III, “Voodoo” LIKED THIS, BUT IT’S ALSO POSSIBLE TO BE A BIT TOO FAITHFUL TO THE PAST Teyana Taylor, “Hold On” NOT QUITE FAYE WONG DOING THE CRANBERRIES (RIP DOLORES O’RIORDAN) BUT STILL MEMORABLE Katherine Ho, “Yellow” LIKE THE BEST PARTS OF FEELS-ERA ANIMAL COLLECTIVE, BUT TAIWANESE Prairie WWWW

NEVER THOUGHT TO VISIT THE LOUVRE UNTIL The Carters, “Apeshit” video BROWN EXCELLENCE Humeysha, Departures "BROWN BEATS” FOREVER RIP Cameron Paul

MY FAVORITE DISCOVERY OF THE YEAR Pharoah Sanders playing “Kazuko” in a tunnel near the Marin Headlands LIKE NONE OF ITS INFLUENCES (FOOTWORK, AMBIENT), LIKE NOTHING ELSE OUT THERE, REALLY Foodman, Aru Otoko No Densetsu DARESAY SKI MASK WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN BOOED OUT OF THE CIPHER Ski Mask the Slump God, Beware the Book of Eli THE MOST FAMOUS PERSON I’VE SEEN ON THE BIG SCREEN AT THE PAST THREE YEARS’ NETS GAMES IS Young M.A., “PettyWap” DEMOS FROM A GROUP I HAVE ALWAYS ADORED, BEFORE THEY FOUND THE SOUND THAT I ADORE The Nonce, 1990 EXTREMELY GOOD AND LARGELY OVERLOOKED REISSUE Suzanne Menzel, Goodbyes and Beginnings FOUR TET IS GOING THROUGH HIS LIVE ARCHIVES, AND IT’S A TREAT TO STUDY HIS ARC/EVOLUTION Live at Hultsfred Festival, 18th June 2004 Live at LPR New York, 17th February 2010 Live in Tokyo, 1st December 2013 Live at Funkhaus Berlin, 10th May 2018 STRANGE TO LIVE IN A MOMENT WHERE BEING WEIRD SEEMS A BIT DERIVATIVE. STILL, THIS IS BLISSFUL SahBabii, “Anime World” HAPPY FACE Smino, “Klink” SAD FACE Drake, “In My Feelings” (especially this version) “JIM FROM THE OFFICE” FACE Pusha-T, “The Story of Adidon” STOLE YOUR FACE Sophie, “Faceshopping” FACE/OFF YG and Mozzy, “Too Brazy” Sammy Bananas feat Antony and Cleopatra, “Slow Down” Kode 9 and Burial, Fabriclive 100 GASSED FACE E-40 and B-Legit, “Whooped" ABSOLUTELY FACEMELTING Todd Barton and Ursula K. Le Guin, Music and Poetry of the Kesh VACATION AWAY MESSAGE SiR, “D’Evils” Bad Bunny x PJ Sin Suela x Nejo, “Cual Es Tu Plan” BEST OPENING DISCLAIMER TO A VIDEO 808INK, “Come Down” “TAGS: LATIN CHORAL CUMBIA GOTH LOS ANGELES” San Cha, “Cosmic Ways”

BEST USE OF “OOCHIE WALLY,” STILL ONE OF MY FAVORITE BEATS EVER Stefflon Don, “Oochie Wally freestyle” BEST USE OF “SUPERTHUG” Rico Nasty, “Countin’ Up” EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS--THE HEADBANG MINIMALISM, THE LAS VEGAS WALGREENS--BUT ESPECIALLY THE LINE ABOUT WELLS FARGO Rico Nasty, “Trust Issues” “ORGASM ADDICT” (RIP PETE SHELLEY) Victor Oladipo, “One Day” “I JUST TOOK A FLIGHT TO FRANCE TO COP CARDIGANS” Black Thought and Styles P, “Making a Murderer” “AT THE EMIRATES I MILLY ROCK” Manzo and Malachi Amour, “Lingard” DOPE TUNE, AND UNEXPECTED KELLYANNE CONWAY REFERENCE JPEGMAFIA, “1539 N. Calvert” YEAH YEAH YEAH (RIP MARK E SMITH) Travis Scott and Drake, “Sicko Mode” R-E-S-P-E-C-T (RIP ARETHA FRANKLIN) Rosalia, El Mal Querer REEL DEAL, “DRIPPIN’ DOPE (SAXAPELLA)” (1989) Gunna, “Top Off” WAMP WAMP (WHAT IT DO) B/W WAIT (THE WHISPER SONG) Vallee feat. Jeremih, “Womp Womp” SAD REGGAETON IS NOT BAD Bad Bunny, “Solo De Mi” SOUNDS GOOD TO ME, 2002-PRESENT Temani, “Power” Westerman, “Confirmation” REAL LIES, POET LAUREATS OF “YOUNG PEOPLE THINKING ABOUT BEING OLD” Tom Demac and Real Lies, “White Flowers” A SONG DESIGNED TO SOUND LIKE IT CAME OUT THIRTY YEARS AGO, WHICH ALSO FEELS LIKE IT CAME OUT A MILLION YEARS AGO (IT WAS JUST JANUARY) Bruno Mars feat. Cardi B, “Finesse (remix)” TAY-K WAS JUST A YEAR AGO Comethazine, “Highriser” FAVORITE 2 BRIDGES MUSIC ARTS “MIGHT AS WELL” RANDOM PURCHASE OF THE YEAR Kizaki Ondo Preservation Society and Clark Naito, 木崎音頭 Kizaki Ondo FEELS LIKE IT CAME OUT TEN YEARS AGO (IT WAS JUST JAN/FEB) BUT I NEVER GREW TIRED OF IT Rich the Kid, “Plug Walk” ODDLY REASSURING THAT PEOPLE STILL JANGLE Massage, “Oh Boy” Earth Dad, “Walter” ...AND DISCOVER WORLDS FROM WITHIN THEIR BEDROOMS Soccer Mommy, Clean ...AND EXPLORE THE CONTOURS OF GROWLING AND NAGGING Sada Baby and Drego, “Bloxk Party” ...AND CAN USE THE PAST TO MAKE SOMETHING SO VISIONARY AND FORWARD-THINKING Virginia Wing, Ecstatic Arrow Mitski, Be A Cowboy ...AND LOOKING FOR FOURTH WORLDS Arp, Zebra ...AND MAKE IMPOSSIBLE RHYTHMS Heavee, WFM ...AND THAT ARTISTS I HAD NEVER HEARD OF, WORKING IN IDIOMS I HAD NEVER HEARD OF, MIGHT STILL BLOW MY MIND Odunsi (the Engine), rare. JUNGLE LIVES X-Altera, “Blowing Up the Workshop” mix TOP THREE TIMES I SAW STANDING ON THE CORNER THIS YEAR 3 - The Merciful Allah Black Hole Theatre 2 - The Time it All Ended with Fireworks on Grand St. 1 - An Empty Storefront During a Blizzard

{HONORABLE MENTIONS -The Time They Brought a Monolith -THEME DE YE-YO [Respect to the Gods]} SONG OF THE SPRING, SUMMER, WINTER, YEAR, STILL UNDEFEATED ### A CHURCH AND JOHN LENNON’S “IMAGINE” :: 2017 SIKH DEVOTIONAL MUSIC :: 2016 SPOOKY BLACK :: 2015

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lickstynine · 5 years

Text

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Eleven

written with @ocsickficsideblog

Kit didn't sleep too well that night; he'd dozed off fine at first, but the encounter with his father had left a deep dent of anxiety in his already-soiled psyche. He tossed and turned throughout the night, asleep but hardly resting. When the doctor came in the next morning, just the slight creak of the door jolted Kit awake.

Alistair groaned, pulling the floppy pillow over his face. He never was too good with mornings. The doctor scrutinised him expressionlessly, then turned to Kit. “Will you be staying at his residence? I need him awake if he’ll be your primary carer.”

Kit nodded, still a little shaky even as he recognized the doctor. He prodded at Alistair briskly until he seemed reasonably awake, sitting up with Kit still on his lap.

“Al, we… we get to leave now.” Kit mumbled. He was trembling faintly, staring down at the sheets rather than facing the doctor.

Alistair brightened at once. “Oh, that’s great!” He nodded impatiently as the doctor handed him dietary plans and rattled off information, wanting to get him out the room for Kit’s sake. The doctor made him repeat stuff back, trying to insure that Alistair was actually listening. It clearly annoyed Alistair, but he managed to parrot everything, and the doctor finally left, saying he’d take care of the discharge paperwork.

When the doctor walked away, Kit wrapped his skinny arms around Alistair in a tight hug. “Thanks.”

Alistair hugged him hard. “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Kit let out a small squeak when his cousin squeezed him, but he nodded. “Is Julie coming to pick us up?”

“Yep. I sent him a message. You staying in your pyjamas?”

“Do I have a change of clothes?” Kit asked, looking around.

“Probably. I didn’t pack your bag, Jules did it,” Alistair said, going to rifle through it. “You have the very crumpled ones from that night…”

Kit shook his head. “I'd been wearing those for like a day and a half already.”

“Pyjamas it is then. It’s alright, I’m leaving in mine.”

Kit sighed dramatically. “How low have I sunken?”

“Oh, there’s way lower than this, trust me. Here, swing your legs over, you need your shoes on. Unless I’m carrying you.”

“You’re not.” Kit replied firmly. “It’s bad enough to walk out in my pyjamas.”

“Nobody cares in a hospital. I haven’t walked anywhere dressed ever since you were admitted, and nobody said a thing. I even got chips from the cafe and nobody even stared.”

“I care.” Kit muttered, feeling like some shitty Cinderella as he held out a foot to be shoe-d.

“I’m putting them on for you then?” Alistair grinned, carefully slipping Kit’s feet into his shoes and tying the laces in messy bunny-ears bows.

“Yes.” Kit replied. He tried to make his tone snobby and serious, but he was grinning back.

“Shall I comb master’s hair too? And of course, someone so wealthy and with such noble blood couldn’t be expected to wipe their own arse…”

“That’s what your favourite drinking fountains are for.” Kit smirked.

“Oh, you bitch,” Alistair laughed, slipping out of character.

Kit cackled as well, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s just go before the doctors come up with another reason to keep me here.” He hopped off the edge of the bed, wobbling and grabbing onto Alistair. “Shit…” After spending 95% of the last week lying down, his legs weren’t feeling very sturdy.

“Sure you don’t want to be carried?” Alistair said, wrapping his arm around Kit’s skinny waist.

“Please don’t. I’d like to keep a shred of my dignity.”

“Put your arm around my shoulders then. We’ll go slow.”

Kit nodded, latching onto his cousin. “Thanks.”

Alistair supported Kit down the long hospital corridors, their bag swinging from his free arm. He let Kit set the pace and hauled him back up whenever he wobbled. They had to pause a few times when Kit got tired, but they eventually made it out the front entrance, where Julius was patiently waiting.

He ran forward to help with the bag, hugging both boys in turn. “It’s so good to have you coming back home!”

“Thanks for coming to get us.” Kit forced a smile, but he was winded just from the walk through the hospital. Alistair bundled him into the back of the car, making him sit and sip water. Kit leaned on his cousin, sleepy and spacey but relatively cooperative. By the time they got back to the flat, he was halfway asleep on Alistair’s shoulder.

Alistair didn’t bother to ask permission this time, simply scooping Kit into his arms and carrying him upstairs. The older boy didn’t complain, looping his arms around Alistair’s neck. Alistair sat with him on the sofa, letting Kit stay on his lap. He’d got so used to his cousin’s warm weight on top of him the past few days. Kit didn’t object, so drowsy he didn’t notice or care when Star jumped onto his lap with a meow. Alistair carefully eased the cat onto the arm of the sofa, where she settled happily enough, starting to purr when Alistair scratched between her ears.

Kit smiled sleepily at the Star, but his expression shifted when he noticed the brown leather she was sitting on. The gears of his brain took a second to start turning, but then he sat up. “I never gave that poor girl her jacket back…”

Alistair nodded. “Call her.”

“Now?” Kit looked nervous. He also had no idea where his phone was.

“Well, you don’t have to. But you were in hospital a while, she probably thinks you’re not getting in touch.”

Kit sighed. “Oh, god, you’re right… Where is my phone? I haven’t seen it all week.”

“I put it in your bag,” Julius said, going through it. “I’ll have to put it on charge, but it’ll still reach.”

“Oh, thank you.” Kit smiled at Julius. “You've already been such a darling, but can I ask you one more favor?”

“Of course you can! You can ask me anything.” Julius smiled warmly - he liked being called a darling. Alistair wasn’t very big on pet names unless Julius was particularly sad or sick, and even then it was usually just “love.”

“Could you make me some tea? Please?”

“Of course! That’s no trouble,” Julius said cheerily, trotting off to the kitchen.

“Earl grey, if you have it!” Kit called after him.

“I know!” Julius called back.

“Thank you!” Kit looked down at his phone, nervously chewing his lip.

“Just text her,” Alistair said.

“But I'm not good at texting!” Kit cried. “What do I even say?”

“Just something like “hey, sorry I’ve been busy and didn’t get back to you sooner, you free to pick up your jacket?” It’s not hard,” Alistair said.

Kit sighed, muttering something to himself as he started to type.

Hi, it's Kit. We met at the bar about a week ago. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I have your jacket. You can come pick it up, or I can have my driver bring it to you.

He sent it before he could overthink it, then showed the message to Alistair. “Is that okay?”

Alistair nodded. “Yeah, perfect.”

Julius came back in with Kit’s tea. “What’s perfect?”

“I'm messaging the girl whose jacket I have.”

“Oh, yes! The girl with the lovely red hair.”

“She had red hair?” Kit looked up from his phone, surprised.

“You don’t remember?” Alistair laughed.

Kit shook his head. “I drank half my body weight in whiskey that night. I could’ve left the planet and I wouldn’t remember.”

“So you don’t remember a single thing about this girl?”

Kit deflated, staring shamefully down at his tea. “No.”

“It’s okay,” Julius said gently. “You’d had a rough day.”

“What do you remember about her?” Kit asked, looking up at Julius.

“Irish accent. Looked very strong, and tall, but everyone seems tall to me. Older than you, but pretty. Lovely smile.”

Kit nodded thoughtfully. “Mum was Irish…” He mused, sipping his tea.

“You haven’t got some weird Oedipus complex going, have you?” Alistair asked.

“Obviously not.” Kit scoffed, “I was just thinking, it’d be interesting. I never knew much of mum’s family, so I don’t know that culture.”

“You can learn from her then. Your pretty little Galway Girl.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Is that the extent of your knowledge of Irish culture?”

“I know about some of the folk lore. And a lot about the Troubles. But that’s it.”

“All I really know are some of the songs Mum used to sing.” Kit admitted.

Alistair sighed, nodding. “I can play them on my violin,” he said quietly. He’d never told Kit that before; it had been a private thing, something he was almost embarrassed about. He didn’t want to butcher the songs he still couldn’t listen to without hearing Fox’s voice. “I can the words too. It took bloody ages to master Gaelic Irish.”

Kit suddenly lit up, looking at his cousin with wide eyes. “Really?”

Alistair blinked, though he was delighted to see that expression on Kit’s face. “Yeah. I know all the ones she’d sing. Some others too, but hers are special.” He paused. “I can play them if you want. But I can’t sing like auntie did. And don’t watch me. That freaks me out. I’ll turn my back to you.”

Kit nodded eagerly. “I won’t stare. I just want to hear.”

Alistair nodded, grabbing his violin and slinking back awkwardly. Julius sat by Kit on the sofa, eager to hear too - Alistair rarely played even for him.

“Don’t laugh,” Alistair mumbled, convinced he’d sound awful, though he had a nice enough voice and he knew the songs backwards.

Kit rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t planning to.” He sipped his tea, staring off down the hall as he waited for his cousin to start playing.

Alistair took a deep breath, starting to play and sing. His pronunciation was perfect after practising so much at the songs, and he always became swept up in the music when he played. There was such soft love to the melody and in his voice as he sang, remembering being rocked to sleep as Fox sang to him.

The first few notes were lovely but unremarkable; however, when Alistair started to sing, Kit went still where he sat. While the music was vaguely familiar, the lyrics had burst through a dam of old memories. He sat, holding his tea but not drinking it, totally transfixed as he gazed off into the middle distance. He wasn't even aware of the tears welling in his eyes. Julius shuffled over and held Kit’s hand tight. Kit leaned on him at once, his lower lip quivering as he smiled.

Alistair played on, singing songs that were mostly about lost loves, the tunes soft and melodious enough to soothe small children - they hadn’t asked what the words meant back when Fox sang them. They were just sweet songs that lulled them to sleep in her arms. Kit barely even processed what they mean, so overwhelmed by the memories that it almost hurt.

It took more than an hour for Alistair to get through all the songs he remembered. His voice was growing husky by then, his own eyes damp. When he stopped playing, Kit's arms latched around his waist, pulling him close. Alistair turned around to hug him properly, putting down his violin. Kit leaned into him at once, finally breaking down in proper tears.

Alistair winced, holding him closer. “Oh Kit, don’t…”

“It's not… I don't… you… you played really well… I just… I miss her, Al…” Kit sniffled, clinging tightly to his cousin.

Alistair nodded, letting his chin rest on Kit’s head. “I know,” he whispered.

Kit nestled against him, continuing to sniffle for a while. He slowly settled down, and was quite content when his phone dinged, the sound making him jump.

Alistair nudged Kit eagerly. “Answer it! It’ll be Galway Girl.”

“Please don't call her that if she comes over.” Kit begged, picking up his phone. It was, of course, the girl.

I'm out. I can come pick it up, long as you don't mind me bringing my dog.

Kit furrowed his brows, showing the message to Alistair since it wasn't his house.

Alistair’s eyes brightened at once. “Yeah! Tell her to bring her dog!”

Kit nodded, turning his phone back so he could type. That's fine, go ahead. The address is Kit paused, looking up at his cousin. “What's your address?”

“You don’t know?”

Kit went red. “No! I know how to walk here, but I don’t know the street number.”

Alistair rolled his eyes, grabbing Kit’s phone and typing the address. Kit just shamefully took the phone back to finish sending the message. This time he got a prompt reply.

Be there in 30. That alright?

Yeah, that’s fine. See you then. Kit tucked his phone in his pocket, nervously chewing his lip. “She’s coming in half an hour…”

“Okay,” Alistair said, shrugging. “Why’d you look so nervous?”

“I don’t know! I’m not sure what to say when I see her, and I’m not really in a state to be having visitors, but I didn’t want to keep hoarding her jacket, and oh lord, I need to change…” Kit fussed, scrambling to his feet in search of his duffel bag.

Alistair rolled his eyes. “Just say you were in hospital. She’ll understand. And you still look pretty anyway.”

“I still want to be dressed.” Kit grumbled. “It was bad enough the people at the hospital saw me like this. Where did my bag end up?”

“I saved it,” Julius said, going to fetch it. He handed it to Kit. “I didn’t want to mess with your things, I just took the bottle away.”

Kit nodded. “Thank you.” He thumbed through the bag until he found a cohesive outfit: dark charcoal slacks and a warm burgundy jumper. “This will do. I’ll be back.” He shuffled off to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

“Don’t faint,” Alistair called, half-serious.

“No promises.” Kit was clearly teasing, and he came back a few minutes later, still running a brush through his hair. “It’s not ideal, but I look better than I did at least.”

“You look lovely,” Julius said.

“You're too kind, Julie.” Kit nudged Star off of the jacket so he could dust it off and smooth it. She made a small, indignant noise, leaping onto Kit’s shoulders. He yelped, giving Alistair a desperate help me look. Alistair giggled, carefully lifting Star onto his lap instead.

Kit sighed in relief. “Thank you.” He set the jacket carefully on the back of a kitchen chair, pacing nervously.

Alistair didn’t bother getting dressed, sighing at Kit. “She’s not going to eat you.”

“I didn't think she would. I just want to make a good impression.”

“She remembers the real first time you met.”

Kit paused, his face falling. “Oh… she does, doesn't she?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Alistair said immediately. He was such a pushover with Kit. “She can’t think you’re a tit if she’s coming over.”

“She probably just wants her jacket back.” Kit plunked onto the couch with a sigh. “I don't know what I was getting in my head about.”

“She’d have got it back on the night if she didn’t want to see you. Trust me, she wants to pork you.” Alistair grinned.

“That's a bit presumptuous… maybe she's just nice. She could be a lesbian for all we know.” Kit mumbled unsurely, but he got back up and started pacing again.

“Did she look like a lesbian, Jules?”

“How does one look like a lesbian?” Julius giggled. “We’re not all rainbow coloured.”

“Don’t you have gaydar?”

“I spoke to the girl for two minutes. She had no reason to tell me that. But I do think she wants to see you if she left you her number, Kit.”

Kit nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe. But I'm not getting my hopes up.”

“Well, we’ll see how it goes.”

Kit nodded again, checking his phone for the time. “She should be here in about ten minutes.”

“Are you gonna sit down, Kit? You’re not strong enough to keep pacing,” Alistair fussed.

“I'm not that frail.” Despite his words, Kit was starting to wear himself out.

“It’s normal! You just came out of hospital!”

Kit sighed, but he dropped onto the couch again. “Yeah, for like the thousandth time.”

Alistair smiled. “We should have kept count. Could have got in the records.”

“I'd rather not be known for that.” Kit rolled his eyes.

“You’ll be known for something special one day, Kit,” Alistair said, without a hint of doubt.

The older boy scoffed. “Only if my father kills me and gets caught.”

“No,” Alistair said firmly. “That’s not happening. But I mean it.”

“Since when are you the resident optimist?”

“I’m not. I’m just extremely biased.” He grinned at Kit.

“You’re an extreme idiot is what you are.” Kit mumbled, leaning against his cousin.

“You are,” Alistair said lovingly, playing with Kit’s hair. Julius smiled at them fondly. Kit settled against his cousin, quiet and cozy for about fifteen minutes. He was startled out of his state of content by a knocking at the door, and he sat upright, looking at the younger boys in a panic.

“She’s here.”

#nanowrimo #misadventures of Kit #chapter eleven #collab #ocsickficsideblog #alistair #julius #kit #raycraft #drama of the big gay

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althinksthings · 6 years

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Top 10 Albums - Part 1

The Brief

“In no particular order – 10 all time favourite albums.

What really made an impact and is still on your rotation list, even if only now and then.”

As always, because I'm me, I'm going to break and change the rules for my own amusement and so it will hopefully be a more interesting venture. I'm going to discuss 10 of the albums that became important to my life. This is partly because the only way I could possibly nail this list down to only 10 albums was to select ones that were particularly formative or influential, and partly because since I'm not very good at analysing music, having some form of narrative behind them will help structure my choices and my posts. In that sense, then, they are in a particular order: I'll be putting these out in a bibliographic chronological series, in the approximate order that I discovered these albums during my life.

A quick note about the way in which I listen to music. I have synesthesia, which means that every song and album I listen to has colours that I strongly associate with it. This, while a thoroughly enjoyable part of my life, sometimes has drawbacks when discussing music as there are certain songs that I just can't help ascribing colours to. As an example in this essay, I couldn't help but describe the song Lord Grenville as “grey”, and I'm sure this phenomena will show up again.

So then.

1. Al Stewart – Year of the Cat. (1976)

YotC was the 7th album to be released by Al Stewart, from his rather extensive discography of 16 original albums, with a few live records and an instrumental one on top for good measure. His genre is primarily folk-rock with a strong emphasis on his spectacularly complex and beautiful guitar style. His favourite subjects for songs are history and wine, the latter even warranted an entire album dedicated to it in 2000, called Down in the Cellar. As for history, I swear I've gained more knowledge about history that has actually stuck because of these albums than anything else in my life. I specifically used one of his songs (League of Notions) to revise for my history GCSE exam, and another one (Post World War 2 Blues) to help me remember information in my history A Level classes. A caveat: this is not actually my favourite album that Al Stewart has ever released. That crown goes pretty unequivocally to Modern Times, released in 1975 and immediately preceding YotC in his discography. So this immediately seems like a pretty stupid pick.

Before the age of 10 I didn't really have a music “taste” per se. My dad reckons that the first artists I ever vocally showed a preference for were Abba and the Eagles, both choices that I will defend because I still think they're both great. I also loved Deep Purple (their album Who Do We Think We Are nearly made the list), but I didn't have any devices on which to listen to music as a solo venture, there were just constant tunes on in the house and car. However, it just so happened that we went on a family holiday to Canada in the summer of my 10th year, and this holiday involved a 10 day road trip in a camper van around British Columbia. It was amazing, the views were astounding, and we stayed in a new campsite every night which meant lots of new sights and exciting locations, but it also meant a rather large quantity of driving. My dad, at this point, had an MP3 player that was slightly smaller than a brick and which he had loaded with however much data a brick could hold in 2006. He handed me the MP3 player and suggested that I listen to this album because he thought I'd like it, so on one of the days of travelling I stared out of the window and listened to Year of the Cat back to back. It was the first time I'd ever heard any of Al Stewart's music and I remember my very first thought being “he has a weird voice”, but as I got used to it the songs stuck and later as we walked around a vineyard I couldn't stop singing the song Broadway Hotel. I think it was my first ever favourite song, and certainly the one that I remember changing how I listened to music. This album wasn't just on in the background, it was playing because I chose it and I wanted to listen. Long story short, YotC was the direct cause of me asking for and subsequently receiving a minute iPod nano that next Christmas, and so I accredit this album as being the direct cause of me starting to listen to music as a whole.

I feel like I should actually talk about the album for a bit. The final track on this album is the titular song Year of the Cat, which to date remains Al Stewart's most famous release. Some of you would recognise it, it still gets played on various radio stations from time to time. It's a gorgeous, largely instrumental song of almost 7 minutes, involving a large array of solos from various instruments. The cat is a year in the Vietnamese zodiac, coinciding with the year in which the song was recorded. The lyrics are a semi abstract reference to the comedian Tony Hancock, whom Stewart saw perform a couple of years before his suicide in 1968. The song has a basic narrative: the tourist protagonist whom we hear about in the second person is walking through a market and meets a woman. He gets distracted by her, loses his sense of perspective and his grasp of time, and the next day realises that his bus has left without him. This coincides perfectly with the meandering solos and instrumental interludes of the single, the listener can feel that they are getting gently lost in the passage of time but (if you're like me), you don't really mind.

So that's the single, what about the rest of the album? As a record it is relatively short, only 9 tracks if you don't include the bonus songs from the 2004 remaster (I don't). I'm not going to go into each song in so much depth, but every track has it's own certain atmosphere that serves to build the overall feeling of a somewhat pensive yet occasionally magical world. Lord Grenville, the opener, is a grey perspective of the situation of Sir Richard Grenville, who was a Lord, soldier, and sailor in the 1500s, now famous for dying when refusing to surrender his ship to Spanish fleets in the Battle of Flores. On the Border is half about the Basque Separatist movement (a situation involving a group of Basque organisations seeking for independence from France and Spain), with the second half of the song revolving around Robert Mugabe, who is now the ex Prime Minister/President of Zimbabwe. Flying Sorcery is a reflection on the life and achievements of Amy Johnson. Not all the songs are based in such concrete evidence: the aforementioned Broadway Hotel is an investigation into people who choose to live in hotel rooms, questioning the feelings of loneliness, isolation, and love that could arise in those situations. It is, then, genuinely surprising that the incohesive subject matter of the individual tracks lends itself to a finished product that feels complete and without tonal dissonance. That may stand as a testament to Stewart's lyrical and musical skill: love songs are treated with no less verbosity than songs about prominent political figures, and the distinctive sound of his intricate guitar patterns is a constant throughout the record.

I could go into this much depth and more about all of Al Stewart's albums, and do full analyses about a great number of his songs, but this was supposed to be an explanation for why the album YotC is important to me and I've already gone way over that particular boundary. The album Modern Times, especially, I think is an undiluted masterpiece of everything that is good about Stewart's songwriting, and I half wish I had spend more time discussing that in this essay. The enigmatically titled Apple Cider Re-Constitution is one of my absolute favourite songs, along with the song Modern Times, an 8 minute long masterpiece of nostalgia and the way in which different people remember their pasts. Other honourable mentions from Stewart's discography include the legitimately harrowing 8 minute Roads to Moscow, (a narrative of the German invasion of Russia during the Second World War through the eyes of a Soviet partisan), and a 13 minute live version of his epic Nostradamus. When written down like this, these songs sound depressing and miserable - and while Roads to Moscow is admittedly not the most jocular of tracks - even despite the heavy subject matter and the sometimes inherent lyrical complexity, Al Stewart's songs are always melodious, engaging, and interesting.

So really, all this to say: when I was 10 I listened to Year of the Cat and it spurred in me an interest in music and history that, I expect, will last the rest of my life.

#al stewart #year of the cat #music #top 10 #albums

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karaokeadvice · 4 years

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Meaningless Time

It’s a...Tuesday? I think? In the summer? I do know that it’s August, because I moved back to the States on August 1st. So I’m also completely jet lagged and I don’t have any sense of the time of day. To add to my confusion/displacement, I’m staying in my childhood bedroom at my mom’s house which has remained relatively unchanged since the mid-90s. (Case in point, my sister and I still refer to one of the bathrooms as “the new bathroom” although it was renovated in 1995.) So every day I wake up at about 5am craving enchiladas, and unsure about what decade it is, and where I am in my life. But I don’t think this is a unique problem. I assume that most of you are feeling aimless, unsure of the day of the week, and perhaps craving enchiladas at whatever hour you awaken. All of the “normal” markers of life are gone. Seems like a good moment to do a deep (medium?) dive into songs about time.

Time (Clock of the Heart) - Culture Club

[This is Karen’s only entry because not only is time meaningless, but I can’t remember any songs I have ever heard at all over the last 44 years.]

I go through periods every few years where all I want to do is listen to this song on repeat and start crying a little bit when actual chiming reminiscent of a beautiful yet merciless clock gently starts up during the chorus, and if that’s not something you can relate to, I guess you probably didn’t grow up waiting to just get to the part when you’re an older yet wiser divorcee in a peignoir with a high rise apartment featuring large windows to knowingly gaze out of over a twinkling cityscape as a saxophone solo wails in the background.

Well, some of that has come true for me, but not most of it, but luckily there’s always SOPHISTI-POP to help me cut to that feeling. According to Wikipedia, this is a term applied retrospectively to music “that emerged during the mid-1980s in the UK which incorporated elements of jazz, soul, and pop.” To me it’s songs that came on Top 40 radio after my mid-1980s bedtime of 8:00 pm so I had to listen to them on my clock radio stashed under my pillow and fantasize as detailed above and also something about impatiently taking off a large clip-on earring to answer the phone.

This feels like a love song but it’s actually a giant dis and a meditation on the sunk-cost fallacy of long-term relationships that are dead in the water. “Time won’t give me time / And time makes lovers feel / like they got something real / but you and me we know we got nothiiiiiiiiiiin’ but time.” At first it feels romantic--we’ve got nothing but time, baby, time to spend together in this beautiful partnership. But wait a minute. Time makes lovers feel like they have something real, but in this case the lovers have...nothing but time. That’s it. Time and nothing else is what’s keeping them together. The charming chiming is actually signalling the death knell of a relationship. “Time won’t give me time.” Isn’t that the truth? Also: an excellent saxophone solo.

Time Passages - Al Stewart

I always get Al Stewart and Dave Stewart of The Eurythmics mixed up. (I know, I know.) This song is actually pretty boring: a perfect fit for this period of ongoing malaise. The experience of listening to it is the equivalent of not listening to anything. It also seems to go on forever, clocking in at 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

There’s a seemingly endless youtube video someone made which pairs the song with just pictures of sunsets and skies. It’s exhausting and somehow irritating to watch. I think it’s supposed to be relaxing?

youtube

There’s also a weird screaming instrument (or person) at just about the halfway point. So, it turns out I hate this song. I didn’t know until I started this entry. I learned something new about myself today. If you want everyone to die of boredom, you could sing this at karaoke. Actually, that would be a great idea for a room full of drunk kickball players. Please someone take me up on this challenge when and if we can ever safely gather again.

Breathe (2 AM) - Anna Nalick

I don’t know where Anna Nalick came from or where she went after she wisely cautioned us all to “just breathe” at 2am when we are waking up in a cold sweat and calling her for advice. Actually, at 2am I haven’t gone to sleep yet. I’m likely doing one of the following: having a debate with myself in my head about whether or not I should just give up sleeping and start a movie; deciding if it actually matters if I brush my teeth; wondering what things are plugged in that shouldn’t be; and/or mentally cataloging every boy I ever kissed. Also if someone called me at 2am I would scream. I’m calling BS on Anna Nalick actually picking up. At any rate, she is a really good friend to even consider answering the phone at that hour. Also maybe put your phone on vibrate?

Chicago - Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

This is truly the question for RIGHT NOW. It’s also a really really dumb song. It seems like a filler song, like truly stream-of-consciousness writing (no shade; I’m doing the same thing right now!). But I’m envisioning the producer of Chicago’s album saying kind of last minute, “guys, we need one more song on this record. Literally anything.” I mean, look at the lyrics:

As I was walking down the street one day / A man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was on my watch / And I said / Does anybody really know what time it is

I mean, maybe I’m not giving the songwriter (Robert Lamm!) enough credit. I guess he’s having the same existential crisis that we all are? But I just find the whole thing so irritating. Who wants to listen to a play-by-play of his day and the people he encounters while on his ambling stroll? TL/dr: one guy wants to know what time it is, some lady feels the need to inform him that her watch has stopped, and then there’s a lot of pushing and shoving (?!) as people are going to and from work. But not our narrator! He’s just walking around, waiting to be approached, so he can NOT ANSWER the question he is asked, and instead ponder the meaning of life. It’s so annoying! And also completely confusing how this was a HIT SINGLE?!! The 70’s, man. (More about this soon.)

Time in a Bottle - Jim Croce

When I lived in England (the first time, as a kid) I had my first BEST best friend, Judith. (Hi Pudes, if you’re reading this.) Like the first person outside my family who actually totally *got* me. I guess we got each other? It was actually how I always imagined friendship to be, but it had never happened like that for me before.

We hung out every day after school and spent most weekends together. We’d stay up late listening to music in her room and just talking, talking, talking deep into the night. It was just before either of us had discovered boys, so all the energy that would later be used for crushes and romance was channeled into this amazing friendship.

When we moved back to the US, I was devastated.

We wrote long, newsy letters to each other faithfully for years. We saw each other every summer. I think it was the first summer we were reunited (her family came to the US to visit) that we sunk a lot of hours listening to “Time in a Bottle” and feeling sad about our fleeting moments together. We took the unusual step of writing the lyrics out on belts (?!!) for each other, and that belt with her handwriting and Jim’s lyrics hung on my closet door for all of high school.

But there never seems to be enough time / To do the things you want to do / Once you find them / I've looked around enough to know / That you're the one I want to go / Through time with.

The bitter irony here, of course, is I lived in England again until last Saturday, and there still wasn’t enough time to see her. Not that we were allowed to for much of the past several months, anyway. But regardless, we have families and busy lives of our own now, and that brief fleeting moment when friendship is your only responsibility has long passed.

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

I get a Strong Emotional Reaction from the opening chords of this song; do you? Flashback, warm nights!

This is one of three CL songs that I mix up. I always wonder, is this the one that makes me sad and I also think might be good to sing at karaoke? So I start here. Then, I realize, no, the one I’m thinking of has a longer title and something to do with night.

Oh! It must be “I Drove All Night.” So I move on to that one but it’s too upbeat.

Finally, I realize I must be thinking about “All Through the Night” and get the gut-punch nostalgia hit I was seeking from the opening keyboard twinkle. (Twinkle?!) Hope you enjoyed this tour of my brain.

Anyway, back to this song. Time after time, Cyndi helps me sift through the suitcase of memories, dreaming about my bright future as Mrs. Corey Feldman. Like Karen’s SOPHISTI-POP entry, this is another ten-year-old under-the-covers listening experience. With no baseline for actual relationships, I pictured this as a treatise on Adult Love. A series of gauzy-hued Missed Connections, punctuated by consent issues (you say, go slow).

Upon grown-up relistening, it is a strikingly accurate portrayal of Relationships. She’ll be waiting for her lover, time after time, no matter what; but also literally waiting--what with the clock ticking and the second hand unwinding. I’ll wait for you forever but also it’s 7:35 WHERE ARE YOU.

(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life - Bill Medley / Jennifer Warren

This is not the best song on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. That honor OBVIOUSLY belongs to “Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen. I don’t think you need to hear any more details about my ten-year old fantasies though, so I will spare you.

“(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” made a recent reappearance in my life when it was played at a Halloween party. I had a drunken miscommunication with my friend Nelson where I stood at one end of the dance floor and ran towards him at full speed, thinking he would somehow instinctively do “the lift”. But instead I just crashed into him and almost broke his glasses and nose. So, this is really just a word of warning.

Also, Patrick Swayze is SO MUCH OLDER then Jennifer Grey; how did we not notice/care? Just so busy stanning Baby and Johnny Castle. Better or worse than the glaring age gap between David Bowie and Jennifer Connolly in Labyrinth? EVERYTHING IS RUINED.

All My Life - K-Ci & JoJo

Luckily, the YouTube comments have written this entry for us.

Y.N. 2 months ago

Who’s listening during quarantine? 😁

O.S. 3 weeks ago

If you are also randomly playing old music. Hit like

JO 1 month ago (edited) 0% Butt shaking 0% Drugs 0% Lambos 0% Strippers 0% Cursing 100% TALENT

J.C. 2 weeks ago (edited)

TIMELESS!!!

#time has no meaning

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dolphinshark · 6 years

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10. Rihanna on N.E.R.D.’s “Lemon”

Kendrick only chose one guest rapper for DAMN. and he chose wisely. And while “LOYALTY.” absolutely rips, it wasn’t Rihanna’s best rap feature of the year. That title has to go her sneering, shit-talking verse on N.E.R.D.’s comeback single, “Lemon.” RiRi is the unchallenged empress of bad girl cool, and every croaked syllable and tossed off fuck-you line of this verse affirms her right to the throne.

...man, how dope is it gonna be when Rihanna finally decides to just a make a straight up rap album?

9. Young Thug on Drake’s “Sacrifices”

Who would have guessed that the next evolution of rap’s preeminent spazzy, addled weirdo would be restraint? Temperance? Downright...traditional...verses? Not I, at least. And yet, it does make a certain degree of sense. Thugga’s just taking everything he’s learned in his experiments in freeform assonance, bent rhyme, and euphony and placing it into a traditional framework. The result is as typically great as the rest of his work, but in a way that’s entirely atypical for him.

8. Giggs on Drake’s “KMT”

One of the Great Mysteries of Drake is how he’s widely known as the Gentlest Rapper In The Game, when he’s actually at his best when he’s pissed off and taking names. There is perhaps no greater proof of that than how starkly the grime-influenced gourdbuster “KMT” stands out amidst the breezy riddims that populate the rest of More Life. And a major reason for that is the track’s show stealing guest turn. Giggs’s gutty, mile-deep voice has always been a helluva weapon and here he employs it perfectly, hanging back and lurking behind the beat like a panther.

7. A$AP Ferg on Marty Baller’s “Like Mike”

Oh, the power of the musical triplet. For most of it’s runtime, Marty Baller’s “Like Mike” is the sort of sunny, giddy anthem that I’d throw in a party anthem playlist, forget about, and be pleasantly surprised by in twelve to eighteen months. But then A$AP Ferg hops on the beat and adds a single extra beat to the flow and turns it into a hook that’s taken up permanently in my brain. And that’s even before he dips into a herky-jerky double time flow that’s icing on the cake. (We’ve all officially decided the Ferg’s the best member of A$AP Mob by now, right?)

6. Chance The Rapper on DJ Khaled’s “I’m The One”

After owning 2016 so totally that he took half the spots on last year’s version of this list, Chance had a quieter and decidedly more mixed 2017. In the minus column were the petty (getting all Internet Mad about people not liking the objectively terrible movie The House) to the downright scummy (putting the screws to MTV.com to get them to remove an article in which a dude had the temerity to say that he didn’t like Coloring Book as much as Acid Rap). But a big check in the plus column was his verse on DJ Khaled’s Beiber-fronted mega-hit “I’m The One.” It’s breezy but dense in the way that only a Chance verse can be, the sort of one that you can sing along with in the car and unpack and analyze with your headphones one. Here’s to a little more of that and a little less of the other stuff in 2018. (Oh and “She want a n**** that pull her hair and hold the door for her” might be the line of the year.)

5. Kendrick Lamar on “DUCKWORTH.”

I’ve just been handed an urgent announcement!

Just let me put on my reading glasses...

[ahem]

It reads, “Kendrick Lamar is good at rapping.”

Huh!

Who’da thunk it?

...

In all seriousness, though, “DUCKWORTH.” is Kendrick putting all of his lyrical and storytelling gifts to carefully unfolding what maybe the best real-life plot reveal in the history of rap music. When we look back at his career, this is the moment that takes him from being a great rapper to being a mythic figure.

4. YG on Mike Will Made It’s “Gucci On My”

I’m sure that we’ve seen better rap verses this year, but I’m also sure that we haven’t seen one that’s cooler than YG’s turn on “Gucci On My”. He drops three lines, then lets a chorus of ladies spend half his time listing the ways in which he is awesome. Once they’re done he slides back in with line that’s so effortless and smooth that we have to jump cut to 21 Savage’s “YEAH YEAH YEAH” reaction. In a weird way, it actually reminds me of a musical. Listen to that song again. Can’t you just see YG cockily two-stepping in front of a chorus line of women chanting about how he’s the best?

3. Jadakiss on “F vs J Intro”

I mean, did you think I wasn’t going to be obsessed with Jadakiss rapping how he is literally Jason Voorhees? Like LI-TER-AL-LY Jason Voorhees? Whew, boy. But, the thing about writing about Kiss’s rapping is that it’s so self-evidently great that it’s hard to write anything other than “Look! Just look at it!” His best verses are so tightly written that it feels absurd to try to put into words what makes them great. So, I’m just going to copy/paste three lines and move on. “I came out of the lake, but I be in the boondocks / Flannel with overall, work boots, tube socks / I’ll put something right through your face from out the toolbox”

(!!!)

2. Cardi B on Migos’ “Motorsport”

Real Talk 2017: I almost split this list into “Top 5 Cardi Verses” and “Top 5 Non-Cardi Verses” but eventually decided against it only because there were so many good Non-Cardi verses that I felt guilty excluding them. To wit: Cardi owned rap this year. And her star-cementing turn on “Motorsport” was what cinched the year as her’s alone. It’s everything that makes her great in a nutshell, sixteen bars of hard-nosed, Bronx-honk shit talking that oozes with her inimitable personality. And the thing is, it still feels like Cardi’s on an upsweep. If she owned 2017, there’s no telling what she’s going to do in the next twelve months.

In fact, there’s only one thing that could keep her out of the top spot on this list...

1. Lil Wayne on “Listen To Me”

...and that’s a new verse from the greatest rapper ever, mid-00s Lil Wayne.

When T-Pain announced that he was throwing open the Disney Vault and finally releasing his long-shelved full-length collaboration with Lil Wayne, I only wanted one thing: one (JUST ONE!) earth-shattering Mixtape Weezy verse. And, luckily, that’s exactly what we got. Now, “Listen To Me” is an objectively terrible song. (It samples the fucking Oompa-Loompas, for Christ’s sake.) But, Wayne attacks his verse in the way that no one did before him and no one’s done since. He jukes and pivots and glides through his rhymes with such deftness that you’re perpetually playing a kind of dizzying, ecstatic catch-up, always two lines behind him. It’s an artifact from a time when the weirdest rapper, the most technically advanced rapper, the hungriest rapper, and most purely fun rapper were all the same dude. Every other verse on this list was a gift; this one is a miracle.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This post has been edited. It previously contained explicit language that was inappropriate for a white writer to use, even in quotations. That language has now been starred out. Not editing it in the first place was wrong, and you have my sincere apologies. - TWG

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vanillastudies · 7 years

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Question Tag

rules: answer the 92 questions and tag 20 people

I was tagged by @study-the-past tysm!

since there were so many questions i put them under the cut

Last...

drink: water

phone call: my mom

text message: “do you have a bike helmet?”

song you listened to: uhhh im listening to Bruno Mars Radio on pandora rn

time you cried: i was watching the OA (great show) and this guy was describing the effect ALS had on his wife (my grandpa died of als)

Have you...

dated someone twice: never even dated anyone lmao

kissed someone and regretted it: no

been cheated on: impossible as ive never been in a relationship

lost someone special: yes

gotten drunk and thrown up: no

List 3 fav colors

burgundy, teal, light blue

In the last year have you...

made new friends: yes

fallen out of love: What is love? (baby don’t hurt me)

laughed until you cried: several times- it’s very easy to get me to cry when i laugh

found out someone was talking about you: I came to a realization that I exist to people outside of just seeing them so like, yeah but not in a bad way?

Met someone who changed you: probably not

found out who your friends are: yea

kissed someone on your facebook list: ew no they’re all relatives

General

how many of your facebook friends do you know irl: all of them

Any pets: my dog Jackson :)

Do you want to change ur name: u know, I don’t exactly love mine but I also can’t imagine going by another name

What did you do for your last birthday: I was on an orchestra trip on my birthday and didn’t realy celebrate it but then when I came home my parents surprised me with chinese food and cake :) (and presents ofc) and my aunt took me to get pedicures

what time did you wake up: 10:00, but i prob wouldve woken up later if my dad wasn’t blasting country music downstairs

what were you doing at midnight last night: trying to sleep

Something you can’t wait for: gee idk im a p patient person but I guess going to Europe after senior year?

when was the last time you saw your mom: like 30 seconds ago

one thing you wish you could change in your life: as a studyblr I’d probably say my study space. My house is really loud and as someone who needs basically absolute silence to consentrate, there’s not really a good place for me to do homework there. So I guess I’d like to be able to go to the library more (except I need my licence for that)

listening to rn: Animal by álvaro soler

Ever talked to a person named Tom: yeah, he was this annoying guy in my middle school orchestra

Something getting on your nerves: my dad’s insistence on playing country music

most visited websites: tumblr, ao3, school website (for grades)

Other info About myself

moles: none

marks: I have a red splotchy birthmark on the right side of my foot, and a few chicken pox scars if thats what ur looking for

childhood dream: i have a hard time recollecting many memories and thoughts from childhood but probably to be an author or sth

hair color: dark brown

long or short hair: short hair definitely! long is so hard to manage (although it’s easier to do cute hairstyles)

do you have a crush on someone: does a celebrity crush count? Fictional characters?

what do you like about yourself: I love my eyes, and also my nails? Idk that’s a weird thing to like but they’re very paintable

piercings: just the standard one on the lobes of my ears

blood type: i have no idea

nickname: kenzie is a nickname, or kenz. I’m not really a nickname person

relationship status: single

zodiac: taurus

pronouns: she/her

favorite tv show: ahh there are so many good ones! Prob Gilmore Girls, Sherlock, and The Good Place as my top three

tattoos: none, but id like to maybe get a flower tattoo or sth when im older

right or left handed: left

surgery: none

hair dyed a different color: I bleached the underside back in the beginning of april

sport: i literally just quit swim team so none i guess

vacation: ik ive already talked about this but im really excited for my europe trip in 2 years!

sneakers: i have one pair that i wear and they’re these awesome nike skateboard shoes

More General

eating: rn im not eating anything but for dinner im having chicken and baked beans

favorite thing to eat: a local grocery store sells this amazing sushi that ive found in few other places- it has a good sauce and cruchy stuff on it

drinking: water

im about to: eat dinner

waiting for: dinner (im rly hungry ok)

want: uhhh now im thinking abt food but aside from that i want some zebra mildliners and the grayscale tombow brush pens. Also some cozy sweaters and sweatshirts

get married: i dont think so, but i have a while until i’ll have to start thinking abt that

career: smth in law or politics?

Hugs or kisses: hugs

lips or eyes: probably eyes

shorter or taller: shorter, but I love when tall friends lean on me

older or younger: if we’re talking abt relationships then neither??? otherwise i prefer talking to ppl older than me

sensitive or loud: i consider myself sensitive but im prob more loud

hook up or relationship: relationship bc im a minor

troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant, definitely

Have your ever...

kissed a stranger: no

drank hard liquor: just a sip

lost glasses/contact lenses: glasses, yeah (how do u lose contact lenses)

turned someone down: nobody’s ever asked me out, but on other things yeah

sex on the first date: ew no

broken someones heart: not that i know of

had your heart broken: no

been arrested: no

cried when someone died: yeah

fallen for a friend: maybe a small crush? but not like in love

do you believe in...

yourself: i guess...

miracles: only like, metaphorically, not religious miracles

love at first sight: no

santa claus: no??? why

kiss on the first date: no

other

current best friend name: chase :)

eye color: light blue

favorite movie: rn it’s definitely spider man: homecoming omg i cant wait to see it again

Now tag 20 ppl

alrighty @rainbowdrink @gloomstudy @coffeeandcommerce and anybody who wants to! (this is a lot of questions, I don’t want to burden anybody with this responsibility that doesn’t want to lmao)

#kenzie got tagged #kenzie speaks #i accidentally saved this as a draft oops #so like ive already eaten dinner and am technically not looking forward to it anymore #whatever ill keep it

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chromaticallydecliningme · 7 years

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it’s a hip hop world...

what the fuck is wrong with me? what the fuck is wrong with me? everything, everything's wrong with me. i want to travel back into the past and do everything perfectly, if it would have mattered. god this sounds so edgy, doesn't it. i was just a young kid, i wrote here when i was young. i guess i still am. i'm making stupid decisions now that i won't realize until i go through them... but anyways, i was young. i didn't really know the world at all. i didn't know anything, looking back at it all. before moving to turlock, i didn't really ever travel out of san diego at all. i just kinda stayed with the same circle of people. it was like this isolated commune, almost, although i had the internet. that was my refuge really. i didn't have a lot of friends at all so i would go on the internet ever since i was little. i went to Cubberley Elementary since i was 4 years old because I was born in October and it was better for me to start earlier apparently. i had a few friends in the neighborhood, actually. though i haven't really talked to them in a while and i don't know if they even really remember me anymore. they've all moved on and i don't blame them. i never really had any friends at any of the schools I went to, though. i remember my first friend, though. I think his name was Monty or something, and he was this cool little black kid and I remember that he was at our house once but i barely remember anything about him other than that. i wonder what happened to him or if he even remembers me. i remember a few kids from that school, actually, though i was mostly an outcast. i'd walk around the paths at the school when all the other kids would be on the playground, though sometimes i'd play with the other kids. it just never felt to me like i fit in, though. it never really felt that way, really. becoming homeschooled (sort of) didn't really help with that. i don't know why it happened, or that i really should have done it, but I had no idea. I was in the sixth grade and I was 10 when i started going to mount everest academy. it was weird. a lot of the people there were there because god wasn't a part of the normal school system or whatever. i didn't have any friends there, but it didn't really matter. i had the internet. i had youtube. the one positive thing that came out of it was that i started to take guitar classes and i started to learn how to play guitar. right around that same time, there was this youtube channel that i liked for some odd reason or another. the Gregory Brothers. they'd make these videos called "Auto-Tune the News" where they'd make these sorts of remixes of news reports or whatever. i thought it was funny, and one day they made this one which featured this band I'd heard of from Guitar Hero called Weezer. for some reason, I couldn't get enough of this video, and I loved the backing of it and I found out it was taken from this song "Memories" from their latest album at the time, "Hurley". so I found it, listened to it, and suddenly my eyes opened. I'd listened to music before, but it was mostly like Michael Jackson and Weird Al... this band, however, changed my life. I couldn't get enough of them. I started listening to everything they'd ever made and found out that Pinkerton, which didn't really have any themes relating to an 11 year old, somehow oddly related to me. i was lonely. no one felt the way i did. i still feel like that. i poured my heart and soul into writing songs, inspired by the writing of Weezer's singer-songwriter-guitarist Rivers Cuomo. I kinda wanted to become him, in a way. Maybe if I write all these songs, maybe someone out there will care or listen to them and actually like me... maybe I'll mean something to someone. just an ordinary kid, then. Rivers felt the same way. the reason he started to write songs was because of Kiss and because they were able to get girls... or just be something out there to someone. I have a sneaking suspicion that he still feels that way. he knows he has millions of fans, he knows how many lives he's changed... but maybe he just feels like it hasn't been enough. i don't know. i'm probably just rambling. but it's something that I can oddly relate to. obviously, I'm not nearly as good as him. I'm never going to have one one-hundredth of his talent, songwriting, guitar-wise... i'm not anything compared to Rivers. but Weezer kinda gave me hope that if I tried, I could be something. so I looked up to Weezer... it might not have been uncommon to in the 90s or the 2000s or whatever when they were still relevant, but keep in mind that this was when they'd just released Raditude and Hurley, aka what was seen as the biggest FUCK YOU!!!!!s to their fanbase and to the general public ever, so they were pretty much worthless. they were playing at casinos and headlining cruise ships, and here I was, 11, 12, 13 year old me looking up to these guys. listening to every single demo and song they'd ever made. starting to write (really fucking terrible) songs of my own, and thankfully being wise enough not to share them with anyone yet. while the whole world was tuning them out. good choice.

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scifiphan · 7 years

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92 Things About Me

tysm @sleepwalkerphan for tagging me in this! it’s 2am and I’m procrastinating the heck out of writing so this is perfect lmao.

also I’ll put most of the things below the cut so keep reading if ya wanna know 92 fun facts about me

edit: this took me almost an hour to do and towards the end, I basically confess my entire life so have fun reading that lmao. like i seriously have a realisation about how idk what i’m doing with my life hahahaha

THE LAST..

1. Drink : Water #stayhydrated 2. Phone call : mum 3. Text Message : a gif of phil being scared in bed (even my irl friends are trash) 4. Song You Listened To : currently listening to Taro - alt-J 5. Time You Cried : On sunday I cried over a renovation reality tv show (??? yeah idk either, bro) the apartments just looked so nice and the team I liked got kicked off the show.

HAVE YOU EVER..

6. Dated Someone Twice : nope 7. Been Cheated On : nope 8. Kissed Someone And Regretted It : YES (smh @ me) 9. Lost Someone Special : thankfully no 10. Been Depressed : i honestly don’t know. i think I have but am so freaking stubborn at admitting I have had depressive episodes in the past 11. Got Drunk And Thrown Up : YES OH MY GOODNESS I HAVE HAD SO MANY BAD TIMES. DON’T DRINK WINE AND THEN A MILKSHAKE AND THEN DANCE ON A BEACH. YOU WILL ONLY END UP THROWING UP IN A GARBAGE BIN OUTSIDE A KEBAB STORE (it wasn’t even after midnight, that’s the most embarrassing thing)

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS :

12. Green 13. Pink 14. Turquoise

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU..

15. Made New Friends : yes!! so many new and amazing friends 16. Fallen Out Of Love : nope. 17. Laughed Until You Cried : laughing until I cry is me every time 18. Found Out Someone Was Talking About You : yes (you would think that adults would stop teen behaviours lol) 19. Met Someone Who Changed You : yes, the last year included so much change. 20. Found Out Who Your True Friends Are : Yes. Just gonna put it out there: traveling for an extensive period of time overseas really shows who your true friends are and who are the snakes. 21. Kissed Someone On Your Facebook List : hahahaha yes (too mant rip) 22.How Many Of Your Facebook Friends Do You Know In Real Life : probably almost all of them (so like 550) only a few on there are my internet friends 23. Do You Have Any Pets : nope and I probs wont get another pet for a long long time 24. Do You Want To Change Your Name : NO!!!!!!! Teddii is a blessing although I would change my last name (it’s two surnames joined together and it makes life difficult because it’s so long) 25. What Did You Do For Your Last Birthday : went out for dinner at a mexican place, won a few dollars on the pokies and then went out clubbing (also i got a fine rip me) 26. What Time Did You Wake Up This Morning: 11am OOPS (i slept in and missed uni) 27. What Were You Doing At Midnight Last Night : probably making a gif 28. Name Something You Cannot Wait For : FINISHING UNI AND MOVING TO THE UK (hopefully to do my masters in global terrorism at the uni of london but if not i really wanna get a 1 year working visa and just do some hospitality work before I start a career) 29. When Was The Last Time You Saw Your Mother : like 4 hours ago when we were watching tv 30. What Is One Thing You Could Change About Your Life : I wish I had a UK passport, it would make life a lot easier for me if I had dual citizenship instead of a boring Australian passport 31. What Are You Listening To Right Now : alt-J, a live performance of Taro 32. Have You Ever Talked To A Person Named Tom : I know so many Tom’s it’s ridiculous 33. Something That Is Getting On Your Nerves : PEOPLE!!! WHO!! THINK!! THAT!! IF YOUR DEGREE!! ISN’T STEM!! THEN IT ISN’T!! HARD!!!! (i’m looking @ every friend who does a stem degree and always laughs at how my degree must be so easy because it doesn’t include math)

34. Most Visited Websites : tumblr, youtube, my uni’s website, facebook 35. Elementary : v great time, got bullied heaps but still had fun 36. High School : problematic fave. honestly my time at high school can fill a 500 page essay. being right next to a beach and river was actually gr8, the endless issues weren’t so good. 37. College/University : it has been a wild ride. I swapped degrees so I still have around 2 years left but uni has been my fave so far 38. Hair Colour : PINK!!!! (naturally ginger) 39. Long or Short Hair : long 40. Do You Have A Crush On Someone : nope (which is a shocker) 41. What Do You Like About Yourself : I like my individuality and independance 42. Piercings : 2x lobes, 1x helix, 1x nose. (i’m thinkng about getting my conch in a few weeks) 43. Blood Type : O+ 44. Nickname : ted, teddii bear, sideshow bob, cotton candy 45. Relationship Status : hella single 46. Zodiac Sign : Cancer (aka my birthday is soon hell yeah) 47. Pronouns : she/her. 48. Favourite Tv Show : STAR TREK: VOYAGER WILL ALWAYS BE MY FAVOURITE 49. Tattoos : crescent moon on my right wrist (i sorta don’t like how it turned out but after a year I have grown to appreciate the meaning) 50. Right Or Left Hand : Left handed (aka another reason why Dan is my spirit animal)

FIRST..

51. Surgery : i got a bunch of teeth removed when I was like 4/5 52. Word : baba or ma 53. Sport : soccer 54. Vacation : i actually can’t remember my first vacation. probs Sydney tbh idk I went a lot of places when I was young 55. Pair Of Trainers : probably something Adidas tbh

WHAT ARE YOU..

56. Eating : nothing 57. Drinking : water 58. Reading : nothing at the moment besides uni textbooks 59. I’m About To : I should say sleep but I’ll probably just watch youtube 60. Listening To : Breezeblocks by alt-J (can you see a recurring theme with my music questions?) 61. Waiting For : GoT SEASON 7 AKA MY BIRTHDAY (honestly feel so blessed to grow older and watch new GoT on the same day) 62. Craving For : MONEYYYYYYY. ya girl is unemployed thanks to the bad habit of planning last minute overseas holidays 63. Do you wanna get married : eventually but at the same time it doesn’t worry me 64. Going To Do When You Get Older : ????? ?????? ????? you would think I would have an idea but tbh idk. I’m studying International Relations and I want to do a postgrad in global terrorism. But career wise I have no bloody idea. I would like to work in the UN or UNESCO or for the Australian Government in an embassy. but at the same time I also want to be a travel photographer and just ignore my degree (idk adult life is hard)

YOUR TYPE..

65. Hugs or Kisses : HUGS 66. Lips or Eyes : eyes! <3333 67. Short or Tall : tall guys!!! but short girls are my weakness!! 68. Young or Old : HA haHA HA old 69. Nice Arms Or Nice Stomach : slight preference for nice arms because tummys are cute no matter what 70. Sensitive or Loud : I am both of those things so, por que no las dos? 71. Hook Up or Relationship : relationship (although I can’t relate because i am eternally single) 72. Troublemaker or Hesitant : I prefer when people are upfront instead of hiding stuff from me so I guess that means troublemaker?

HAVE YOU EVER..

73. Kissed A Stranger : yes 74. Drank Hard Liquor : yes (love me some vodka) 75. Lost Eye glasses or contact lenses : not yet thankfully 76. Turned Someone Down : YES! (there is nothing wrong with turning people down.) 77. Sex On First Date : no 78. Broken Someone’s Heart : yes and I still feel bad 79. Had Your Heart Broken : yep 80. Been Arrested : yes (kind of, long story) 81. Cried When Someone Died : yes. although I tend to go more numb instead of crying. idk it’s weird because I cry about everything but death kinda makes me become numb 82. Fallen For A Friend : yes (oops)

DO YOU BELIEVE IN..

83. In Yourself : yes although I need to believe in myself a lot more 84. Miracles : yes 85. Love At First Sight : yes and no. I believe it exists but I feel like a lot of people believe that they are experiencing love at first sight when in reality it is infatuation/lust. 86. Santa Claus : this question conflicts me because the logical side of me says no but the optimistic child side of me refuses to accept the truth 87. Kiss On The First Date : yeah 88. Angels : nah, not for me

OTHER..

89. Current best friend’s name : do i have a best friend? not really. again, it’s a weird time for me when it comes to friends. 90. Eye Colour : um blue with green and grey mixed in (it’s so hard to describe but yeah, those three) 91. Favourite singer/Band : Ed Sheeran, Mumford & Sons, al-J (i love them all a lot.) 92. Favourite Movie : Avatar. yes the blue alien one. It’s lame but I fell in love with the na’vi culture and it kinda helped get me obsessed with scifi.

And that’s a wrap!

If anyone actually read all that I hope you enjoyed my (very) late night confessions. Idk who to tag so if you see this and want to do it feel free to do so! Also, come hit up my inbox/messages if you wanna be my friend after reading this, I wanna make some friends on this hellsite

#tag game #92 questions #that took ages but it was fun #i hope you all know me a little bit better #aka i'm boring

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