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ruthellie · 2 years

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Those Were The Days, My Friend.

Never in my life did I think that I would find myself in an Irish bar in the middle of corfu, but there we were.

I had been seeing someone for about a month, whilst feelings were yet to reach their most intense, it was my first experience ever properly ‘seeing’ someone. The act of dating was one that I was late to be introduced to. When he stood on my doorstep, 45 minutes late to our date, I knew it was the end. I could pre-empt his decision by the blue ticks of a read and ignored WhatsApp message. Even though it was expected, his words still knocked the air from my lungs. I waited until he left before crying and subsequently replaying every interaction we had had to identify just where in our short relationship I had gone wrong.

His words upset me more than the fact that he was ending things. He said that I put myself down too much, something that I was actively trying not to do. Over the past six months I have actively been partaking in self care. Not just the kind of self care where you buy yourself something nice with the excuse of ‘treat yo self’ no, I had being delving into some real deep Self Care. I had finally found some medication that helps keep my mind clear, I had been eating well, going to the gym, hell I even had a skincare routine. I had been working on affirmations and goals and had started to work through some of the trauma of the past few years. I had actively been being kind to myself. The fact he said that I put myself down so much infuriated me.

The next morning, I had a plan in place, I was going to live my life by the new age philosophy of Catch Flights, Not Feelings. Hot girl summer was pending andI was going to go to Greece and live my best life for a week. Mirroring the sentiments of Shirley Valentine, I was off.

I arrived in Corfu exactly on time. The cabin door opened and the hot air hit me and instantly my mood changed. I was lucky to get a room in the apartments where I’ve stayed with family before, they greeted me with smiles and hugs. I was introduced to the children who were just a thought when I was last here. Although I was a paying guest, I felt like I was staying with family. This holiday I had three main goals, 1) relax, 2) work on my tan and 3) have an adventure. When I’ve been on holiday here before, I came with family and I was younger so we did the typical family holiday things, we would sunbathe and eat and visit local towns. Now I had returned as a woman, I wanted to explore the nightlife, I wanted to visit the towns on my own two feet were I could wander to my hearts content.

I woke on the first morning and headed into Roda village, I walked along the coast and passed bars and shops that were waking before the tourists descended asking for beer, booze, and ice cream. A walk I’ve taken before made me feel such excitement for 8am. In the village, I saw a bus timetable advertising a service that I didn’t know existed. It went from Roda, to Acharavi, and ended in Kassiopi. That was tomorrows adventure sorted, I would go to Kassiopi and get croissants from the best bakery on the island. As I walked back to my apartment I listened to the Mamma Mia soundtrack and watched my own greek adventure play out in my head (minus the marriage and three baby daddy’s).

Tuesday morning came and I walked back along the coast to the bus stop. Worried about getting on public transport in a different country, I asked my friend Jake, a well seasoned traveller, for some tips before I left home. ‘Just get on the bus’ they advised. With their words playing on loop in my mind I boarded and hoped for the best. €2 and 20 minutes later, I was in Kassiopi. We used to come here a lot when I was a kid. One of my mums favourite photographs was taken in a bar on the harbour. I got my croissants, and headed for the harbour for some breakfast. I sat in the open window and ate watching charter boats ferry tourists to and from the town. Kassiopi is one of the more affluent areas of the island and whilst I did my best to not pay attention to the class divide, I felt it a lot. Weary of not missing my bus I headed back to the piazza and sought shade under a tree with a can of Fanta lemon and my wrist going twenty to the dozen with a fan, trying to cool myself down. Sitting here, I met a trio of friends from Milton Keynes. We got talking and shared how we were finding the island so far. Being strangers for no more than 15 minutes, they spoke to me as if we had known each other for years. This one interaction cemented the feeling that I was going to be okay on this trip. I had done it, I had spoken to strangers and shared a story.

Around the pool later in the day, I got talking to a couple from North Shields. Doreen and Dave had been coming here for the past 20 years. Halted by Covid, this was their first trip back. We got talking and I realised that we had probably been here at the same time in previous years. I was thankful for their conversation as that afternoon I had a brief pang of loneliness. Doreen was asking me about my plans for the week, I explained that I had none and was taking the days as they come, I shared with her my need to swim in the sea despite my fear of it. She told me to go in, she’d been in this morning and it was lovely. I sat with my self and mulled it over. I’ve come on holiday alone, I’ve travelled thousands of miles to be by the sea and now I was afraid. Never once in the planning of this trip did I feel scared, why now was I scared of going in the sea?

I pulled myself together and crossed the road to the beach. I stood on the shore and sank my toes into the sand. The sea, like the moon, does something to my soul. I simply had to go in. I kicked off my flip flops and waded in. Navigating the rocky bed I did my best to enter gracefully until a particularly mossy rock upturned me and I found myself fully submerged. It was like when you’re little and you make a big fuss of taking a plaster off, you build it up in your head as some excruciating pain and then your mum just rips it off and you forget what all the fuss was about.

Florence and The Machine have a song called Various Storms and Saints. There is a lyric in the first verse that always draws my attention. “I don’t know how I don’t just stand outside and scream. I am teaching myself how to be free.”

In that moment, floating on my back in the ionian sea, I fully understood those words.

When I get sad, or have a bad day I find that music is my comfort. I can find songs that reflect the way I am feeling, I play them loud and I scream and dance and sing the feeling away. By teaching myself how to be free, I am learning how to deal with the trauma, how to handle the bad days, how to embrace life. I spent so much of my teenage years wishing that I didn’t exist, I didn’t want to die, I just didn’t want to live. I look back now and I feel so angry at myself for wasting so much time being sad. Laying in the sea, I felt something within me change. I felt a freedom that I have never felt before. Its’ just me, alone in the middle of the sea. I smiled up to the sky and promised myself that when days get bad I will close my eyes and think of this moment.

The next day, as I was heading up to my room for a well earned nap, Doreen called to me from the pool. Her and Dave were heading into Roda that evening to see a guitarist in a pub and did I want to go with them. Not one to turn down an invitation I accepted and said I would meet them in the bar that night. I showered, put on the one dress I bought with me and painted my lips red. I wandered into the town and met them on a little table right in front of the stage. I looked up at the guy on stage and my heart fluttered. He was playing a traditional Irish tune and my heart felt full. Anyone who knows me knows that I love the Irish, I like Irish men, Irish music and the best mix of both, Hozier. I told Doreen and Dave and they too love Hozier. During the break I approached the guitarist and got talking, I explained our situation and asked for Hozier. Being the tactile person I am, I touched his arm in conversation. He was dripping in sweat, by reflex I blurted “God you’re so hot.” He chuckled and replied with a wink ‘I get that a lot.’ I felt my cheeks blush and was so glad that he would mistake it for sunburn. I spent the rest of the night singing my heart out and drinking cold beer. When I got in, I searched socials for this guy, but came up with nothing.

During my trip, I wanted to visit the next town over. Sidari is more of a party town, there are bars and tourist shops, drag shows and tribute acts. Elpida, suggested I go on Saturday night as the locals will be out. Not wanting to be hungover for my last day I decided to go on Friday night. I walked into Roda and got the bus again. Whilst on the bus I met Tyriece and Charley, a couple from Norwich who had just arrived. We got talking and they praised me for solo travel. They invited me for a drink and we worked our way through the strip. Deep in conversation, we passed an Irish bar, my eyes flittered to the poster outside proudly proclaiming ‘TONIGHT NATE FURY, GALWAY LAD’. I gasped and my heart swelled with excitement, by accident I had found him.

I had a few drinks with Tyriece and Charley, cocktails and shots on an empty stomach had given me a slight buzz and a bucket load of self confidence. I made my excuses and headed back to the Irish bar. I got a pint and sat at a table in-front of the stage. He smiled at me we said hello. I sat and watched his three hour set completely transfixed. I sang to every single song, I clapped my hands and slapped the table in time to the beat. I cheered at every break and I smiled constantly. In a busy pub, he had my undivided attention. I wasn’t just there because he was hot and Irish, I was there because the music was amazing. His looks were simply a bonus.

At the end of the set, Karaoke was next. If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I LOVE karaoke. I chose a song and took the the stage. I didn’t just sing I performed. I moved with the words, accentuating my arms, legs, my side step and my fingers, I made the bar know that there was nobody else here, no one like me. At the end of the song, the MC said it was nice to have someone who could actually sing, which naturally made my ego inflate to the size of Jupiter.

I sat at the bar and nursed a couple of drinks, there was an Irish wedding in and so I talked to a few of the party, one particularly sweet lad, Kevin, was shocked that I was alone and all but insisted I come out for the rest of the night with them. Weary of getting myself home I declined and instead got his socials.

Near to the end of my drink I looked around the bar and realised that I was the last person there, the lights were on and the floors were being swept. I laughed to myself and asked the barman to call me a cab. Nate came and spoke to me and I explained that I was not stalking him, that this was merely a fluke. He asked when I was leaving and told me to come back tomorrow night. I said I’d come back if he played Hozier. He couldn’t make any promises but he was planning on covering Nelly’s Hot in Herre. I told him that that song is one of my guiltiest pleasures and that I knew every word, the MC suggested we duet and Nate asked if I could sing, before I could answer, the MC said that I was the one who sang earlier. Nate gave me a few beats and I started to sing. My taxi arrived and I promised that I would return. I got in the cab and apologised for keeping him waiting, I explained that I had just had the best night of my life.

Solo travel is my new favourite thing, I can do what I want and not be constricted by others. It’s selfish and selfless all at the same time. I didn’t think that this trip would have been as good for me as it has been. I was thinking that I would go out there and have a lazy holiday. I didn’t know that I would be coming home with a banging tan and a new found sense of my self.

For the past three days I have been joking that I am very close to simply staying here for the rest of the summer, renting a cheap apartment and getting a job in a bar. Whilst I know I can’t do that now, its made me want to plan for next year. I’ve written a manifesto for myself, outlining some rules for myself and how I plan to live.

So many people have told me that I am so brave to be going on holiday alone, last night Kevin called me a queen, and for the first time I agreed with him. I have given myself a power that a few years ago I didn’t know I could possess. I am fearless and I am free. I am proud of myself, for the work that I have put into myself and the person I have become. My outlook has changed and most days I wake up with a peachy outlook, the bad days still come, of course they do but now when people ask how I am, my first answer is always “Happy.”

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maddyboomaladdy · 4 years

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Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again - Summer Fling - Bill Anderson

“...Young, Tall, dashingly handsome!”

#mamma mia #mamma mia here we go again #young bill #young bill anderson #aestethic mood board #mood board #mamma mia mood board #bill anderson mood board #movie character mood board #what else can i tag this with ‘mood board’ attached to it!?#young bill is going to be the death of me

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adiscoveryofmoodboards · 5 years

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Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again (2018)

Life is short, the world is wide. I want to make some memories.

#mamma mia here we go again #mamma mia #abba #mood board #movie moodboard #musical movies

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bradshawsbaby · 2 months

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Since people seemed to have so much fun with the first Mamma Mia! board, I thought a second one was in order! So…

#top gun: maverick #mamma mia!#reuben payback fitch #jay ellis #javy coyote machado #greg tarzan davis #mickey fanboy garcia #danny ramirez #bradshawsbaby mood board

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fbi-agent-snake · 5 years

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Sky and Sophie from Mamma Mia

#mood board thingy #mamma mia #mamma mia! here we go again #mamma mia sky #mamma mia sophie

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josthockeythings · 5 years

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Mamma Mia AU

I did this instead of writing the damn thing

#mamma mia au #my writing #hockey rpf #mood board

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aitarose · 3 years

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OUR LAST SUMMER (A.MIYA) —❥ pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader

synopsis: one summer was all the time you had together—all the time you had to bask in the sun-kissed rays and sand-filled beaches, share soft butterfly kisses and feel the comfort of being wrapped in his arms—until his boat sailed off into the sea, forever.

word count: 3.0k

genre: mamma mia inspired, summer fling, somewhat stuck together, angst, fluff, casual/formal writing, second person

warnings: commitment issues, mentions of suggestive content, minor cursing, heartbreak?

notes: this was an impulse blurb because i haven’t posted any actual fics in nearly a month so here you go lol asdfjl IT’S A LITTLE ROUGH BUT I HOPE IT’S LEGIBLE LMAO AND ITS SHORT AS HELL SORRY JALSD MY BRAIN D!ED

—❥ DIRECTORY

You remembered the first time you’d seen him.

He was a stranger, a man that you’d never once met before—standing smack-dab in the middle of your dock, the place you’d always come to clear your thoughts after hours upon hours of work, though you didn’t technically own it. It was just tradition, an accustom that you’d grown so used to that it seemed like everyone’s daily—well, everyone but his.

There were few people you didn’t know on the island, having been a member of the local family business of hotels and inns. Your little paradise, the chains of suites and saunas that you liked to think were a hidden wonder of the world—hidden to only you and the reoccurring tourists that would stay on your infamous Greek Elysium.

The usual familiarity was scarce at the sight of his bright blonde hair and sun-kissed skin, light freckles peppered across the swells of his cheeks—no doubt caused by countless hours at sea as he stood beside a large sailboat. He appeared to be a free spirit, much different to all of the others that would find stay on the shores.

It was a common getaway, an escape from the reality of life and the troubles that came with emotional attachments and labor. Every personality was alike, each one masking the pain of all that tied them down—wishing that they’d ever have to board that boat back to the mainland, and just stay in a world without worries and never-ending surf.

But the way he was standing with his body language in reaction to the sea, made you think that perhaps he wasn’t like all of the other’s who came and went. That perhaps he was a free spirit entirely on his own, one that didn’t force the necessities of comfort and relaxation on his mind—it just came naturally.

“You lost?” Your voice called out, the sound ringing with the wind chimes against his sails—diverting his attention from the white peaked waves to your melodious sound. He gave you his full attention, immediately focusing on your approaching frame—a look of relief arising on his face.

He reached behind his neck, scratching the roots of his hair whilst a sheepish smile gleamed in the light. “Thank god, you found me!” He chuckled, the browns in his eyes sparkled with golds and copper, complimenting his overall look perfectly—in all honesty, you didn’t think you’d ever seen such a handsome man. “I docked around a half-an-hour ago, just didn’t know where I was supposed to head next.”

“Would a beautiful girl like yourself happen to have the time to help a poor sailor out?”

Shaking your head, you grinned, scoffing slightly at the obvious flirtation, before walking towards him. Your feet moved in small steps, thoughts dancing around the idea of a summer fling—after all, it wouldn’t be the first time something like this had happened. You, an eccentric woman, one with the island, always seeming to attract men of all natures with not a care in the world.

Maybe he would be your new conquest, your newest mark in the endless journey of love that you never wanted to conclude. Another man who’s mood would turn from complete adoration to disgust when you’d reject his love and send him off to sea—never to be met again. Simply a memory you’d look back on when your past ran wild and smile in nostalgia.

You plopped down on the end of the dock, head thrown back as your feet touched the water—a refreshing feeling taking over your entire body. The man watched in amusement at your obvious compatibility with the ocean currents and approached you as you patted the place beside you—an open seat reserved for him.

“So, sailor.” You mocked, swinging your jaw to face him with a sing-song tone. “Tell, me. What brings you to my island?”

He raised his eyebrows, creases appearing near his forehead with youthful wrinkles at their wits—not hiding how enamored he was at your playful tone. “Your island?” There was a matched mood in the both of your speech, potential feelings rising in the pits of your stomachs. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. Last I checked, you didn’t own all of Greece.”

You scoffed, kicking your feet up to splash his ankles—cold sprays of salt water hitting the skin of your shins up to your thighs. “Well, last I checked lonely sailors didn’t talk back to pretty women—or are you just an enigma Mr...”

“Miya.” He replied, concluding the sentence that you hadn’t been able to finish with ease—identity revealed to the girl he’d already festered a crush on, despite it only having been a mere twenty minutes since you’d first begun to speak. “Miya Atsumu.”

‘Y/N L/N.” You held out a hand with a shit-eating grin as he gripped it firmly, shaking your palm enthusiastically whilst your eyes held his—a silent stare down in the midst, the morning sunrise changing to one of noon, reminding you of the ticking time. “And how long did you say you’ll be staying here?”

“Well, I’m here for my brother’s wedding.” Atsumu shrugged, nudging your shoulder with his and gazing out to the countless other sailboats in the bay. “Technically, I’m only meant to be here for a few weeks...”

“...but I’m sure I’ll find something here to keep me longer.”

And that he did.

He’d managed to find a countless number of reasons to keep himself busy. Infinite excuses not to set his sail at sea—excuses that had nothing to do with the start of Osamu’s wedding festivities, or with the waning fear of his workplace calling him back to play, or even the worry of his heavy pockets running dry of cash.

Perhaps it had something to do with how his heart pounded whenever you were around. The artery nearly jumping out of his chest in the times you’d grab his hand and pull him along the stone-studded paths throughout the tropical trees, giving him tours of your favorite spots—laying picnic blankets under the shade and sharing piña coladas with pink straws.

Or the constant days at the beach. How you’d share an umbrella only for it to fly away in the wind—leaving the two of you out in the open rays of the sun, vulnerable to burns that Atsumu always managed to obtain. You later having to help him wash off in a cool shower—concern furrowing at your brows with every wince and whine he’d muster.

Treating him as your own personal island dweller, you’d become attached at the hip. Neither one of you wanting to be without the other for longer than a day—knowing that your time was limited, but ignoring it all the same. The summer was one of new opportunities and experiences, things that you had already set your mind to—only now having his name next to those goals.

Your first impressions had been correct, he was undoubtedly different from all of the other flings you’d had in the past—and you’d come to realize this on the day he’d asked you to be his date to his brother’s wedding. The brother that had no idea you existed, whom you hadn’t ever planned on meeting was inevitably getting an unexpected guest.

That unexpected guest being you, of course, arriving with Atsumu on your arm and wearing a beautiful shade of baby blue. Osamu and his bride had welcomed you with open arms, no suspicions at all when they’d noticed the genuine look of happiness in the blonde’s eyes—a look that they hadn’t seen come out of him in a very very long time.

“Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” He whispered, lips pressed against your hair—arms holding you close as the gentle orchestrals echoed in the night night breeze. The shadows of candle lit jars and paper lanterns covering your face in defined shades of grey—making you look all the more gorgeous.

You sighed into his chest, taking in his sweet scent, that of fresh oranges and salt—the smell of the ocean never truly washing away from his aura. “I loved it, actually.” An earnest tone spoke out from your mouth, sincere admissions flowing like waves, reaching his ears and giving him little dreams of the future—your future.

“It was one of the most beautiful ceremonies we’ve hosted, and I truly mean that.” Your voice was soft, quiet as to not disturb the calm mood in the moonlight—the stars shining down on every pair on the dance floor, even the young children blowing kisses in each other’s direction, not knowing the true feelings of love, yet wishing for them in their hearts.

Atsumu took a step back, holding your hand in his and spinning you beneath the stringed bulbs—smiling warmly as you let out an uncontrollable giggle—complaining how he was making you dizzy with glee. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so utterly full of admiration for a single person in the entirety of his life.

With a smirk at the corners of his cheeks he pulled you in, twirling you back around and into the safety of his tanned arms—the physical contact was nothing new to you, yet there was something in the way his palms held yours that made you feel like there were ulterior motives to his antics.

“Steady there, sailor.” You whispered, slightly out of breath—not only from the tireless dancing you’d endured all evening, but from the minimized distance between your bodies. His lips were a mere centimeters away from yours, so close and also so far. “Wouldn’t want you doing something you might regret.”

He shook his head, leaning in to commit to the thing he wanted most in the world—his fingers reaching up to guide your chin to his, the calloused skin of his thumbs tickling your sensitive nerves and setting free all of the festering butterflies in your chest.

“Trust me, gorgeous, when I say that I don’t have regrets.”

His words were quickly muffled as you pressed your lips against his, smothering any quips that could possibly arise and drowning them in an ocean of pure desire and infatuation. It felt like you were on ecstasy, the uncontrollable yearning for his intimacy finally being yours to have and to hold—all coming together in one innocent kiss in the middle of an almost empty wedding reception.

Your palms held his jawline, pulling him as close as possible whilst doing your best to convey your display of passion as small and intimate—not wanting to steal the celebrations of the day from the bride and groom—who’d in all honesty, disappeared themselves hours before, no one having seen them since then.

A quiet gasp rose from your throat as he bit your bottom lip, wanting more even though he knew that it wasn’t the time you could grant his wish—anticipation for the night to come, when you’d leave the party hand-in-hand, rushing from the back of his brain to the frontal lobe as he pulled away.

“’Tsumu.” You breathed out, eyes locked on his with giddiness underlying the tiredness in your voice. His expression matched yours, one of completion and success—patting himself on the back in imagination with the knowledge that he’d won your attention. “What was that?”

He stepped aside, still holding your hand in his, leading you off of the stone platform and into the gallery of cloth-lined tables with scattered guests—drunk in happiness and alcohol, blind to any real-world worries. The moment felt like a fever dream, an event that only occurred in film and television—nothing that you’d ever expected to experience yourself.

But with Atsumu, anything seemed to be possible. The slim probabilities becoming a zero percent error whenever he set his mind to a goal, bringing you along with him every step of the way. His calls out to you raspy from ahead, scratchy from the amount of hollering and applause he’d performed for his twin during speeches and vows.

“That,” he began, glancing back at you as you ran together towards his little villa, “that was only the beginning of the rest of our endless summer.”

And he was right, it certainly was the beginning of something. Something special and real—something that you’d never once felt in your life, right in your arms, right in front of you. He was your perfect match, you were tired of denying it—but there was one thing that the two of you had forgotten in the blissful montage of stolen kisses and sleepless nights.

Every beginning has an end.

All stories have a final chapter, one that no reader wanted to page through—but couldn’t resist knowing the final outcome of their two favorite characters, what could possibly happen to their relationship, their future, their unspoken and unequivocal love for one another that had manifested on the ink blotched pages.

Some had happy endings, epilogues in which the main love interests proceeded to get married, have a few kids that’d run around their fenced backyard with the sprinkler system running on overdrive. That was the dream, the dream that seemed so idealistic to most, the ideal life to live—to grow old holding hands against the oak wood of your rocking chairs as the sun set over the horizon.

But that wasn’t your ideal life, and neither was it Atsumu’s.

So, your story wasn’t one of those lucky fairy tales that had a happily ever after. It wasn’t a bedtime story that you’d read to your grandchildren or younger relatives, nor was it a time you’d try to forget as it ended right where it had initially begun—on the public docks of your inn house, in front of his weary sailboat.

The only differences being the setting sun rather than the rising dawn and the twinkling stars appearing in the dark sky in contrast to their disappearance in relation to the morning clouds. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that it was all coming to an end, shooting off into the darkness with the explosions of nebulas and constellations.

“So, this is it.” Atsumu spoke aloud, possibly to you or the emptiness of the sea. The usual warmth in his tone sounding robotic and unkept, unfamiliar to your heart, unfamiliar from the man you’d come to hold such strong feelings for in a mere three months. “This is our last night, our last minutes.”

He turned to face you, hands holding the limp ropes whilst pulling them tight and wrapping them in their holsters, billowing the sails in the strong night breezes—there was said to be a storm brewing, and it was ever so timely to have happened the same night a hurricane was forming in your blackened and broken heart.

You’d never seen such a sorrowful expression on his face, used to the typical dumbstruck happiness and easygoing nature that was void and lost, that absence setting in the reality of your relationship’s oblivion. He let go of his secured ties, elbows leaning against the railing and towards you as you stood at the edge of the doc.

“It doesn’t have to end here, you know.” He suggested, his voice shaky and unsure—not knowing what your response would be—not knowing that you loved him, too. “You could come with me, see a world that isn’t an isolated island—we could travel together, see all the other wonders—we could be happy, forever.”

Your breath hitched, chest airtight, all of the oxygen in your lungs at max capacity—catching in your lungs with no chance of getting out. His words had somehow managed to itch the hidden and sensitive regions of your heart—the ones that had always been guarded from others, the places that he’d been able to weasel his way into.

At the look on your face, he already knew your answer. An unspoken rejection standing stale in the humid air between you, the still distance growing further and further despite your motionless stances. Two broken hearts longing for one another with no resolution to be met.

He bit his lip, holding back tears in the nightly shadows and nodding his head—believing that he’d been right all along. That his presumptions about you had actually been correct, that he hadn’t been different, that he hadn’t been your person amidst the countless other personalities you’d fallen for over the summers—that he’d simply been another paradisiac fling that you’d thrown away.

But he’d never been so wrong.

You did love him, you loved him with your entire soul—your entire existence. There was no dream you wanted more than to be with him forever, to spend every single moment in his company of laughter and contagious smiles. To pepper him in kisses and take morning dips in the ocean as the sun rose over the horizon.

He was your soulmate, the other half that you never thought you would find—an egocentric and boastful man unlike any other you’d met before. Atsumu was your salvation, but with the fear of commitment and settled life at the back of your brain, you had no choice but to watch as his love faded into remorse. As his undying love was pulled beneath your currents of self-doubt.

“Thank you.” He spoke, words dull yet also meaningful—full of every last confessional emotion he had to make, full of all the lost ‘I love you’s’ and goodnight wishes in the past seventy-two days of being in each other’s arms. “Thank you for letting me love you.”

And with those words, your heart sailed into the vast horizon—through the swift currents and past the submerged rocks, peaking in the rising and falling black waves. The bright white sail of his stern shading into grey as he became nothing but a speck in the night—lost to the endless sea and unknown future, a future without you.

A future that you’d never know anything of, communication gone, forgotten between you and stripped away by the receding tides. The tides that had come just as fast as they’d gone—a physical representation of the whirlwind love story that you’d lived during the most memorable summer of your life. As you’d never be able to forget him.

You’d never be able to forget the first man you’d ever loved.

taglist of bestie boos <3:

@bokoutoebutmain @boba-duckie @ryuomen @sexy-bee-juice @nekomabvc @cambodianprincess6

aitarose.tumblr 2021. do not copy, claim, or mimick my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers and tags as your own. do not use my blog as a template for your own, or base your theme on mine.

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hatchetfieldtheories · 3 years

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Return to Hatchetfield-Town – The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals Part 1

Alright settle down kiddos. Get comfy, find a warm blanket and hug your favourite fwendy-wend as we start our Return to Hatchetfield-Town series.

I’ll be rewatching all the Hatchetfield scripted content (i.e. not livestreams or interviews) and jotting down what happens, explaining some concepts and delving into some of the key theories in the series (and using the word “implications” that often it will cease to have meaning).

Even though I’ll be doing the rewatch by show in order they came out, there will be spoilers for all Hatchetfield content that is available as of the rewatch.

I’ve also linked to a number of other blog’s theories here because they are amazing, but if you aren’t happy with your theory being included I will be more than happy to remove it! Just let me know.

[Part 2]

The Guy Who Really Hated Brigadoon

TGWDLM starts off with the greatest song ever to feature dancing zombies… at least I can’t think of any other notable ones.

In the title song, the cast of singing and dancing zombies explain to us that all great stories have to have a hero, someone who knows right and wrong and that the best way to do this is through singing and dancing in musicals. This with the later line of “they evoke the philosophical” make me think that Pokey took a class in Campbell’s Hero Myth in College and became that guy.

Hatchetfield Challenge: try not to shrug your shoulders along with the music at the chorus. Its impossible. No wonder the Hive spread so quickly. Literally killer dance moves.

So then they introduce us to an awful Grinch named Paul and we hit the first point in the show where I laugh out loud every single time I watch.

I know TGWDLM was not originally intended to be the first Hatchetfield show but starting this series with a song which sets up the story so well is truly spectacular. And is there anything more Starkid than introducing your main character by having other characters sing about how awful they are?

One thing I have noticed while writing, reading and collating Hatchetfield theories is that while most Black Friday and Nightmare Time theories are usually about the overall Hatchetfield lore, most TGWDLM theories are usually quite self-contained and focused on this one show. TGWDLM – while so fully within the Hatchetfield extended universe, is definitely the show that can best stand-alone without the others.

It’s the end of the world, Paul

If you don’t sing

This is the bridge, Paul

Where we globalize everything

And the words will come to you

We swear we will teach you

What it means to love

What it means to obey, Paul!

On a first watch this is very funny. On your 10th watch this is terrifying.

CCRP Technical: No-one here knows how to use their printer

Following the absolute bop of a title song we find ourselves in CCRP Technical and all feels very… normal. It’s very weird following all the revelations in subsequent Hatchetfield media, to be watching a show where there was genuinely nothing obviously fishy about CCRP. We’ll obviously discuss CCRP more when we get to Nightmare Time, but for now all we know is that Paul works in the technical department of CCRP – an unknown corporation, with some key characters, Charlotte, Bill and Ted.

We also find out more about Grinch Paul’s personality and honestly, Paul is me pre-pandemic just outright avoiding social interactions and suddenly going for coffee in the middle of the work day. (I have become a changed woman in lockdown – someone please invite me somewhere… anywhere!)

For all the dark humour and death in the Hatchetfield series, Starkid do know how to bring the joy – I love how excited the town of Hatchetfield are for a touring production of Mamma Mia.

Fake Fact: TGWDLM is actually an allegory for Europe in the 1970s, when we all became mind-controlled by Abba’s Waterloo. (Find me a better explanation for Eurovision, I dare you! The sequins were just too shiny!)

“The idea of sitting there… trapped in a musical. That is my own personal hell.”

Two words: Emma Perkins – need I explain any more?

Ah Hot Chocolate Boy. I really look forward to finding out more about him. Where does he come from? He just appears out of the ether. What’s his story? How old is he? How many hot chocolates does he have per day? I know we have since had some confirmation on who he is, but they raise more questions than answers. For now I will just point you to a gorgeous Mood Board by @hatchetfieldmoodboards which features a bit of a spoiler.

For real though – is it just me who would love a full version of “I’ve been brewing up your coffee”?

Hatchetfield Challenge: Try not to sing “Shut the f*ck up” along with Emma.

“Watching people sing and dance makes me very uncomfortable”- oh boy Paul… you’re not going to enjoy the next hour and 40 minutes. Also, Paul, you’re making me uncomfortable watching you throw your brand new coffee around as if you’ve just been given an empty cup. There’s imaginary coffee everywhere. Hopefully, HCB won’t slip on it before it’s cleaned up… he’s already having a bad day.

“Thunder and Lightning… very very frightening. But a big rock hurtling through the clouds is no biggie.” – all the residents of Hatchetfield apparently.

The next sequence happens so fast and we get introduced to a lot of characters. Notably Greenpeace Girl, Alice and Deb, Sam, and Hidgens (though we don’t find out his name until much later). This scene impresses me because they do such a great job of very quickly bringing out so many characters who nonetheless are memorable when they return later in the show.

Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel is an Eldritch Being. I won’t go into Peanuts theories here as that could be a whole post in itself – and many a person more brilliant than I have written some fantastic theories on this. You can learn all about how a Squirrel took over the fandom in the following posts:

@dahlialupine : x

@frombothofmyhearts: x

@abiimaryy: x

And finally mine which is definitely a serious theory: x

It’s… A… Musical!

Now to remember we are actually watching a musical. La Dee Da Da Day is such a happy joyful song performed spectacularly by a throng of the undead.

The song is about the Hive singing about how much of a great time they are having now they are tap-dancing zombies, and trying to find ways to convince Paul he should join them too. So the grins on all their faces are not at all terrifying.

It’s worth noting also that according to the laws of the TGWDLM world, only those infected by the Hive can hear the music in the background. This becomes important later when it becomes clear some characters have started being infected before they are fully turned into zombies, but for now it just paints quite a funny picture of what Paul must be witnessing. I definitely think for him, this whole scene just sounds like this clip of Greased Lightning without the music: x

The important thing here however, besides Mariah’s singing, is that the Hive leave Paul alone. They don’t actually attempt to turn him at this point. I have a theory on the implications of this, but note this has big spoilers for the end of the show and Black Friday. It was written before we knew that the Hive (Pokey) was related to Wiggly but the content still stands: x

Charlotte, Honey, you don’t need that much sugar – you’re sweet enough

For reference:

@melchron noted that the lyrics for La Dee Dah sound very similar to the incantation for soul transferal read out in Jane’s a Car, which leads me to two possible implications.

The Freaky Furbies have a language other than English that they use for their incantations so this is why they sound similar.

There is soul transference happening to the souls of the bodies the Hive take over.

Or it’s just Starkid using similar sounding words for their content…. Three! There are three possible implications…

Paul – just print off another copy of the report

From this point on the musical numbers really do come thick and fast. We move on to the first instance of Jeff Blim encouraging Paul to talk about his feelings, which I am sure is not important and isn’t worth discussing. Paul goes through a musical rendition of a promotion interview, which is actually the Hive attempting to find out if he will be the “hero” of their story. They picked out Paul for the role from the start. That he was chosen was inevitable.

What do you see for this company? I'm looking for someone with strong ambition Someone to sell their specific vision Someone to share with precise precision their thoughts 'Cause I want you to want…To want

So it turns out these will be looooong, so I will end here and see you in part 2! I’m not sure yet what the upload frequency will be. It takes quite a while to go through the show like this but it is a lot of fun!

Hatchetfield High Homework:

Where do you stand on the Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel debate?

Why do you think that the Soul Transference Spell and La Dee Dah sound so similar?

Go follow all the lovely people mentioned in this post!

Bonus points if you know the reference in the post title.

[Part 2]

#the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #return to hatchetfield town #starkid #team starkid

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