vent in tags ignore me
vent in tags ignore me
Okay, so tentative personal ranking of Dreamcatcher's Summer Holiday is
Alldaylong - Overall sound is just my thing and the lyrics are so touching, thank you Jiu!
Whistle - Sucker for whistles in songs and again the lyrics got me 🥺
BEcause - The creepiness might as well be lost on me bc it's all too beautiful
Airplane - Sounds like the too sweet ice cream I used to love as a kid
Heart of a Sunflower - My heart is in shambles? Death by a thousand cuts?? And I would play it again and again???
Also like, one of my favorite intros ever
when I was a young boy my father took me into the city to see a marching band. he said
"did we forget Mikey?"
How to Move On
This was originally going to be the death of his son but then I thought to myself, why stop there? Plus Jade seemed eager to read some angst so there's that too :D
Genre: Angst(?), Very bittersweet tbh
Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Synopsis: When you loved him back his heart was full. Now, he must learn to love again without you. In which, Chuuya discovers a note you wrote to your child and how he chooses to move on.
Watching the light fade from your eyes was probably the worst moment of Chuuya’s life. Death was an inevitable concept. A sort of idea that puzzles the most ingenious minds. But to think a precious soul such as yours could be extinguished so easily.
Chuuya shifted through boxes. The clouds of dust rising and falling into the air as he moved items to and fro. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for anymore. It had been only thirty minutes since he put down his young son. The little one was happy to hear a story before bedtime. Now, Chuuya was sitting in his bedroom gazing at the large cardboard boxes that held your beloved items.
He wasn’t sure why he kept them. He honestly shouldn’t have. But the idea of bits and pieces of you being with him were like fragile memories he could never replace. And he was aware that holding onto your memory wasn’t healthy for him.
He didn’t miss the way people whispered about him at work. Curious to know how he was raising his child without his lover, or intrigued as to why he seemed so hollow inside.
Chuuya wasn’t sure how to get rid of that pestering feeling. It had bubbled up inside of him and frozen solid. Missing you was the only thing he seemed to remember how to do.
Life began to feel the same. The vivid routine of getting up, smiling proudly at the child you had left behind for him to care for. He still remembered when you first mentioned the idea of starting a family. He had been so nervous and yet you smiled about it the whole time. He’s not quite sure how to be a father. Not without you by his side at least.
On the off chance Chuuya gets to take a small break and relax in the wallowing pleasures of his personal indulgences, he tries to think of you. It’s getting harder in all honestly. He can’t quite seem to picture the shade of your eyes anymore. Nor can he recall the sound of your voice in the early mornings. He remembers what you would say and how you would say it. But your laugh and voice are merely an empty blank screen in his mind.
The boxes were something he always meant to go through. He was always supposed to search through them for bits and pieces of you. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to pour through them properly. A part of him was scared to move on from your memories.
If he forgot you, would he move on?
If he remembered you, would he ever move on?
Sipping the tangy red wine in his glass, his eyes scanned the edges of a stack of papers. He acknowledged the importance of the stack. To anyone else, it was merely a strange composition of unordinary sheets.
But to him, they were worth more than thousands of pounds of gold. Brochures of places he promised to take you, ticket stubs of movies he invited you out to, menus of restaurants he had taken you, even the music sheets of his favorite songs.
He delicately shifted through the papers, carrying them as if they were made of thin layers of glass. Eventually, the bittersweet smile on his lips morphed into a blank frown. He couldn’t do it.
He could never move on from you. Despite the things people had told him, time didn’t seem to be doing anything but bringing him unresolved pain. A hollow emptiness that not even his child could fill. He didn’t want to blame you for it. He couldn’t blame you. You had just been another victim of fate.
And he shouldn’t have been surprised either. It wasn’t like the people he loved ended up staying forever. He must have been cursed to never have a forever with someone. Chuuya let out a rough sigh, taking another sip of that wine. It was beginning to taste overpoweringly sweet.
Pulling the papers out and then back into the box, he was somewhat surprised to hear the sound of crisp paper meeting his senses. He had gone through practically everything in this box. It was growing abundantly clear that there was nothing he could do to avoid the disgustingly bitter taste in his tongue.
But he reached to the side of the box, pulling out a small crumpled letter. It was strangely petite. He was almost amused at the sight of it but he froze upon seeing the twisting, familiar letters of his child’s name. Your handwriting. A mishmash of everything he loved about you. He had seen it over and over again but knowing it was his child’s name made it feel all the more poetically tragic. Fingers traced the letters.
When had you written this?
Why did you never mention it to him?
Why find it now?
Inhaling slowly, he slid a finger into the ripped edge and tore the envelope open. The note was short. It only took him a couple minutes to read.
To my Fumiya,
I'm sorry. You look so sweet today. You're currently napping in your dad's arms. He looks so in love with you. I'm so in love with you too. But I know I won't be around for long. Don't be mad at me. I know your dad might be a little lonely when I'm gone. Keep him company for me.
I love your dad very much. I always will. But I don't want him to be lonely. So be nice to the next parent that comes into your life. Tell him that it's okay to marry that person. As long as he's happy, I'll be happy wherever I am.
Your dad's been through a lot. He shouldn't have to lose any more people. I want to stay like I promised him, but I have to go away soon. So be good, my Fumiya. I love you.
Chuuya wasn't sure when morning came. It was a blur of tears and wine that spun his head into a circle. Something about your letter was enlightening. Yet, Chuuya still couldn't bring himself to let go of it. The letter slipped from his fingers and onto the top of the box he had found it from.
His schedule was the same. Your son bounced into the room, chatting his ear off while getting ready for school. And as usual, the young boy stopped in front of your picture at the door. He bid you good morning with a bright smile, promising to tell you all about his day after school.
"Bye, dad!" With that, he headed out the door and Chuuya was left alone again.
He wanted to laugh at the irony of your written words. He was lonely.
God, he was so so lonely without you.
The brief scent of coffee instantly hit him when he entered the coffee shop. He wasn't sure why he chose today of all days to go to this place. It had been a while since he had. You would have loved to get your favorite pastry and chat his ear off while asking about his morning.
Your letter had done little to dictate his feelings. He still missed you more than ever and yet he wanted to trust that perhaps he could move on. He was still scared to move away from you.
"Good morning, sir. Would you like your usual?"
Chuuya blinked at the woman behind the counter. Her smile was strangely reliving in the midst of this uncrowded coffee shop.
"My usual?" he asked with a slightly unsure smile. The woman flushed and awkwardly stared at the counter.
"I uh... Well, your order comes in so frequently I just thought I'd memorize it."
Chuuya chuckled softly. "Then, I'll have my usual."
He always believed you were his endgame. That you were his happily ever after in this torturous fairy tale.
But he was willing to listen to your final request. He could try to move on without forgetting you completely.
Taglist: @paradise-creator @todorokichills @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @internetkilledtheroxstar @nameless-shrimp @whorefordazai @diary-of-a-poltergeist @jadegreenimmortality @requiem626k @missrown @rirk-ke @kiyokoxd @jessbeinme15 @starglow-xx @shadyteacup @colourless-cora @scul-pted @kuraxmasha @yochicoz @pompompurin1028 @trashykawahq @kyuus4ku
Want to join my taglits? Comment under this post!
it's 95 degrees outside but i'm still dressed like an anemic batcave dweller because a bitch never gets hot. or something
carlacia grant & madelyn cline as CLEO & SARAH .
OUTER BANKS 2.02 : the heist .
Also what the fuck is up with the instagram descendants fandom? Most comments seem so fucking okay with this? Like... how do y'all don't feel like setting disney on fire?
sometimes I wish I just had no social media and was just chillin
After MONTHS of not touching it im almost done with my s/i and au carrd!!! I have to add some info to 5 more s/is which shouldn't take long and then... it will be complete....
color pallete and expression meme requests (meme template by abisalli)
Are these tears of guilt? Relief? Gratitude? You don't know. Perhaps it is all three in equal measure; you don't care to figure it out and Eli even less, scrambling forward as he does to hug you once more, this time like he means it.
- @mage-parivir, A Mage Reborn
Ten years later and Eli Hugs are still better than any cure-all 😌💕
ft. Elias Revelios and Saro Yulevine
Unfortunately, i have created content.
I've been thinking, with all the different types of fandoms I post about, I wonder how Tumblr processes that. Like, my blog, who is it promoted or recommended to? I've been drawing a lot of Undertale lately, but I sprinkle some MHA here and there. Then I talk about streamers every once in a bit. There's also the fact I was originally an SVTFOE fan and that stuff is still circling around 😂
Lowkey, it makes me wanna consider making a separate blog for my fandoms but, I really want to keep my art in a single place, ya know? And that's also the thing about my blog, some people are just peeking into my blog and never follow bc there's not enough of that kind of content. But I'll get around to it people, believe me. I'm just a slow person lol
“ @authorsnet event 02: folklore — from the ashes ”
From the ashes came the Four. From nothing came salvation. The story is the same every time, ancient and cherished, clutched to the heart of thousands like a charm. They tuck it close, basking in the thought of being worthy of their gift. A world, built from the ground up. An unpayable debt. They do not wonder what came before, because to them, it did not exist.
Those who did not have to wonder didn't last long. Between one breath and the next, the Four scrubbed clean the old world and gave birth to the new. They wrote the story, scribbled in the margins, smudged the ink and penned it anew. It was told as they wanted it; the original sacrifice. The great victory.
And so nobody thought about the before. There were more generations, the next Four and the next, all martyred as was their duty. Their memories were held in lanterns, in yearly ceremonies, on the bowed shoulders of the elders. It was their birthright, to be remembered. Worshipped.
Saviors are much more palatable than annihilators. Before nothing, there is always something. A place to start. Buried in a forest, somewhere deep in the ground, sharing tall tales with the dead. This is where the true story starts, and where it ends. Both at the hands of the Four. They found and mastered their gifts over years, became bold and brash and unchallenged by nature. And so, they challenged themselves. Their hubris unearthed a curse, created solely to charge a price for their power. Foolish and young, time on their side, the Four became dangerous and untrained. Towns and cities began to feel the effects of their power; plagues and fires, storms that shook the earth. And still, the Four remained trapped in their pride. People pleaded, begged, prayed. For an end. For mercy. They were answered.
At the edge of the world, gray spread over the land like a stain. A blight that stole across grass, across stone and fabric and flesh. It left ash in its wake, raging and bleeding from the four corners of the continent. And for once, the Four saw. They listened, too late. At the center of the continent, they huddled, desperate for a solution. Their curse supplied one: their lives, forfeited. And all four lives of all the generations to follow. Oh, how they begged. They couldn't have seen it, had no way to know. They couldn't have stopped it, they said. But their curse needed lives, and so they had no choice. On their own terms, they decided. The curse would be held at bay for as long as the lives of the Four continued to be sacrificed, and the people would live. The terms were accepted, the story fabricated hastily. One last stitch in the gaping wound that was their pride. They had doomed this world, but saved the next. And as soon as they were lost, four more would take their place. For as long as it took. And took. And took.
This story belongs to the Four. Their hubris burned the world they were born in to ash, but from the ashes, a new one was born. One that had never seen darkness. One that, for as long as the curse was upheld, never would.
- topo gigio
- rizzo (italian coded - new jersey and his name is rizzo)
- geronimo stilton (italian series w italian first name but hes supposed to be dutch american???)
- remy ratatouille-linguini (by marriage)
- fievel mousekewitz (not italian but does immigrate to nyc)
thoughts on this?
I just reached out to my cousin’s ex-wife to see if her sibling still took art commissions. When I first met the siblings years ago, they were teenagers raised in an uber-conservative, southern-baptist family, and they outwardly espoused those beliefs.
So I asked her if her sibling still paints, and she said yes, but actually he came out as a trans man a couple years ago and this is his new name, so that’s why you couldn’t find him of FB.
And I just...
I’m so happy for him, that he had the bravery to come out, and for her, that she’s using her brothers real name and pronouns.