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screams and cries and climbs the wall and violently throws up
This world needs heroes #OW2
I drew so much last week and I think I now have carpal tunnel
Send help please
My body may be gone, but not my love
my mouth hurts like hell
I want to punch my orthodontist and tear out his jaw
.... but that'd be mean, so maybe not
just got back from day 2 of my first con in over a year and jesus christ my back hurts... i forgot how tired i am after these....
my father said to me once that one of the things he deeply regretted was not putting music on for his father while he was fading away. he told me that grandpa would just sit in his old armchair in the quiet, and not until after heād passed did my dad think of how he could have played of his favorite classical music tapes for him so grandpa could listen to something while he still could. i was very young when this happened and not much older when my dad told me this, but it always stuck with me as something important.
my mother died at home in a hospice cot, slowly shutting down over the course of about a week. when she had stopped responding, i remembered what dad told me about wishing heād played music for grandpa, and i put the radio on her favorite country music station and kept it on for her until she died.
daddy died in hospital. no cassette players, no decent radios. the day after he was brought in, i thought again of what he told me, and i bought a little portable bluetooth speaker. even though he never woke up, was never aware, i played music for him too.
thereās no real significance to sharing this, not really. my motivation is selfish, again: i just want to hope that someone might think of this when their loved one is stuck in silence somehow, and maybe theyāll play music for them, and they wonāt have to regret not doing so. i want to hope it helps someone. and i want to hope that someone will remember my dad with me, even in just a āstory i read on the internetā way.
James Potter never lived in a world without Lily. She was born first and died second.
very much still thinking about time loop Joel
very much thinking about him putting his head down, focusing entirely on Azalea, on building and growing and ignoring everything else around him; the first loop he misses the meeting, it's an accident, because not seeing them at all is, somehow, just as painful
but he still doesn't go the next time, or the time after that, and it's not like it matters, is the thing- everything is the same, every word and bickering second is just a repeat, and Joel is tired. he is tired of hearing Lizzie repeat herself, a broken record scratching out the same two lines, or Jimmy, as pitiful and useless and deserving of so much more, and it's in the middle of digging up trees he barely remembers planting, that he starts to cry
(Joel is tired, he's so tired, and worse than that, more horrifying than this weight settling itself on his shoulders, is the fear in his hands, in the small tremors he cannot shake)
(the demon is real, and he doesn't want it to be)
well now I'M thinking about time loop joel again too. just... yeah he eventually stops bothering to go to the meeting. and he should. he should keep going. maybe he should try to warn them again, except no one will listen to him except lizzie and jimmy at best, and that's not enough, not now, not for this. so he just stops, for a while, and he just... lets himself be miserable for a while, and that's not enough either. for the first time in a long time he knows he should be doing something. for the first time in a long time, worse - he's not sure what he can do.
not even an epic, blizz
The Star
(Reblogs are appreciated)
Buy me a coffee ā: ko-fi.com/deuskaze
Woke up and my jaw hurts so bad I canāt even talk properly, and just sitting there not even moving hurts
šš«.
(now I have to go to school, literally kms)
iāve been binge listening bruceās entire discography
hawkeye pierce // cautious man , bruce springsteen
The birds dont sing, no they dont make a sound,Ā
When youāre six feet under the ground.
I got a new brush and I went a lil wild lmaooooo
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HEY OW. OUCH. IT SAID TRAGIC BUT LIKE. MY SOUL BARED SO EASILY?? SO PLAINLY??? OW!!!
maybe im just being autistic and applying my blorbos to everything but i just saw asteroid city and man. davey as a playwright. jack as a set designer. them meeting on the set of whats supposed to be daveys magnum opus, except davey doesn't entirely understand what the magnum opus is yet. it's there, it's coming, but it's not done. jack and davey clashing on ideas, getting into fights and not being able to explain themselves properly, hashing those fights out and kissing many, many times. davey creating plays within plays within plays because theres so much he wants to say in so many different ways if he could just figure out how he's supposed to say them, and jack's trying his hardest to keep up despite how confused he is because theres something there with davey, something life-changing, and jack desperately wants to see it through.
davey getting into a car accident a few months into production. the scenes and dialogue and set pieces and tiny tiny details that davey was so passionate about despite not entirely understanding them yet, all being cut for run time. until what was meant to be his greatest creation ends up... unfinished. incomplete.
(jack tries to get it. he doesn't get it. it's davey's life's work and he's not getting it)
jack mourning a relationship that barely even happened. jack trying to paint. jack's paintings never coming out right, not what they used to be, not what they could've been. jack living with the loss of something that hadn't even really been there yet. jack knowing that something could've happened here that changed him entirely, if it hadn't been cut off halfway through.
David didnāt want his first visit to the lodging house to be this, anything but this wouldāve been better.
He attempted to readjust the way JoJoās arm hung across his shoulders, fingers digging in in a grip that matched the wince on his face with every limped half step.
Les forged on ahead of them in some kind of attempt to clear the way, and people moved for the dirt-stained kid with tear tracked cheeks and an arm held to his chest, spattered with blood; his own or someone elseās David wasnāt sure yet and as much as he wanted to grab Les and give him a once over for any injuries aside from the obvious, JoJo whoād gotten a club to the knee and then the head once he went down took priority.
JoJo was also spattered with blood, but it was obvious it was his own, leaking from his newly crooked nose-
He lurched to the side suddenly, and David did his best to keep him upright but he was tired and his head was spinning and something in his chest was sending shooting pains along his ribs when he breathed too deep and staying upright was hard-
āSorry Dave.ā JoJoās voice was slurred like he was drunk and Davey realised he didnāt even know what age he was. Not old enough to get drunk, not even close, 14 at most surely, not the youngest but younger and-
āItās fine. Weāre almost back, just a couple more steps.ā
āYāseen Splasher?ā
āDonāt worry about him right now. Weāre almost back.ā
āThat copper got him real good Dave. I donāthink I seen him get up.ā
David swallowed bile, clung to JoJoās waist a little harder.
He hadnāt seen Splasher get up either.
āIām sure heās fine.ā He said out loud.
Jack writes in a diary, but instead of titling it like others would with "Dear Diary" He directs each entry to a different Newsie. He finds it easier to let it all out if his mind thinks he's writing all this to somebody. His diary entries are really more like letters he'll never send.
Dear Racetrack,
We got some new kids today, Davey and his brother Les. Les thought I was pretty cool, Davey might take a little more convincing. They seem pretty sound though, they got parents and a flat, the whole nine yards, y'know?
Dear Jojo,
We're officially on strike against Pulitzer! That bastard raised the prices without even a word of warning to us and expect us to just go along with it? Yeah, well, have we got news for them, am I right?
Dear Crutchie,
This wasn't how today was supposed to end. I know we were warned this could go wrong, but I didn't think we'd be beaten that badly.
I feel like real shit knowing I didn't go down there and help him after all those times he helped me. My brothers been sent to the one place I swore to protect everybody from, and I just stood there. I'm so sorry Crutch.
Dear I'm sorry I let you down Davey.
in case the first one's too weird, perhaps the phrase 'bruised heart', because ive been listening to pink ladies again and have a problem - @pigeonwit
"I guarantee you, you don't want me. You don't."
The words hit Jack like a truck.
When he told himself he was going to finally confess to David today, when he ran through all of the options and avenues for the conversation while on the thirty minute subway ride, he never once considered this option. The option where David thought he wouldn't be good enough, the one where he would say-- that.
Jack's mouth opens and closes for a few moments, the words lodged in his throat, before he chokes out, "What?"
To his credit, David laughs. It's not a happy sound, though- no, it's defeated, and trails off into a sigh at the tail-end of it. As he drops his shoulders, David's gaze flick's to Jack's across the table, before dropping back down to his clasped hands next to his cup of coffee. "You don't want me," David says easily, like it's a fact. Like it doesn't rip Jack in two.
"No, I heard you," Jack says, leaning a little further in, but he makes sure to keep his voice down- he doesn't need the rest of the cafe hearing this. Why he decided to do this in public, he doesn't know anymore, but he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin if he didn't blurt it out. "I just- I don't... get it. What do you mean, I don't want you? I think I know what I want, Dave."
David sighs, shaking his head and giving Jack a desperate, pleading look. "I'm telling you, you don't want-"
"And I'm tellin' you, you don't know what I want or not," Jack cuts in. "And I want you. I want you, and everything you're willin' to give, do you understand?" He stares at David, who is silent, and refuses to meet Jack's eyes.
Jack takes a deep breath and reaches out, gently taking David's hand. David doesn't pull away, but he doesn't grab back. "Look, I... I don't care if you don't want this. That's fine, and we can forget I ever opened my big mouth, okay? But if you- if you're refusin' to give this a shot 'cause you don't think you're good enough... Dave, you can't possibly believe that."
David gulps, his gaze shifting frantically, and he looks like a deer in the headlights. The image makes Jack regret ever saying anything, but when Jack starts to pull his hand away, David stops him with a squeeze. "Do you-" He stops, clearing his throat and staring straight at the wooden table between them. "Do you know how hard it is for... for me to get out of bed every day?"
Jack stays silent. David takes a breath, and closes his eyes.
"It's- It's not that I don't want you, Jackie, 'cause I want you more than you'll ever know," He whispers. "But you... You deserve more than me, okay? You deserve someone who doesn't feel drained every day. Someone who can be... I don't know, happy, without having to try to be. I'm a mess, Jack. You don't want that."
"I don't want that for you," Jack murmurs, squeezing David's hand back. "David, we... we can wait 'til you feel better, or healed, or whatever the fuck it is, but regardless, I don't... I don't need you to change for me to love you, okay? You deserve that, just as you are."
David finally looks up, and gulps hard. "...Love?"
"Yeah. Love," Jack responds.
David's shoulders sink a little, and he nods slowly, his grip on Jack's hand tightening. "I'm broken," David mumbles. "And I-- I know that sounds dramatic, but I've never... I've never been good at this, and you know that. You've been there for all of my breakups."
"Yeah, I have," Jack nods, "and I know that you didn't deserve a damn one of 'em. David, you're a catch, and if people don't get that... That's their problem. Not yours." With a soft sigh, Jack looks down, then shifts in his seat and looks back up at David. "You don't have to make a decision now. We can talk this out when you want, 'kay? The ball's in your court, Dave, but... You ain't broken. I swear."
"Jack..."
"There's a difference between broken and bruised," Jack murmurs. "Okay? You... You might be goin' through a rough patch. You might be hurtin', and that fuckin' sucks, but that don't mean you're beyond repair. You said the same damn thing about me."
David gulps hard, then uses his free hand to rub his eyes. "I... I don't know if I'm ready for-... I'm sorry..."
Jack shakes his head. "You got nothin' to apologize for, okay? If you need to wait, we wait."
"I want to," David explains. "I-... I really, really want to try with you, I just..."
"It's okay," Jack whispers. "I promise."
"Promise," David whispers back.
They finish lunch. They go to the park, then to a bar. They table it for a month and a half before David takes the plunge and kisses Jack. A bruised heart just takes a little time, and Jack Kelly would wait an eternity and a half for David Jacobs.
The production of newsies on youtube where racetrack is holdng Jack back from running away in the Sieze the Day fight when Snyder walks up, and Jack says "I can't go back," and race says "no, Jack, I know" and lets him go.
And then when Crutchie is getting beaten up, Jack is on the bridge right above him and again race is holding him back, this time from going to get Crutchie, who sees them and says "Jack, Race, you're RIGHT THERE!" but then they both turn and run.
And then Jack starts Santa Fe by saying "no no no no," like he's waking up from a bad dream.
ETA: here's the link.
i sentence you to track 12 0:41 seconds in newsies cast recording
fandom sucks now I never see PSAs for writers about what can and cannot be used as lube
"No one calls us home anymore," Sang-woo says, and he means it as a justification. An excuse. His life is empty, he is no longer a child to be cared for, no one calls for him and he has no home to go back to.
Gi-hun could have offered the obvious answer. He could have pointed out that Sang-woo's mother still calls him, that she talks to Gi-hun about her son whenever she sees him. We as the audience know that she asks if Gi-hun has heard from him, later, when she can't reach her son and worries if he's okay.
Gi-hun could have heard the excuse, the plea to give up, and he could have argued with Sang-woo or let him give up.
Instead, Gi-hun sees a reason for hope. He sees an opportunity. He hears, "No one calls us home anymore," and he holds his hand out immediately and says, "Let's go home."
Even if no one else will call Sang-woo home, Gi-hun will.
But Sang-woo doesn't take his hand. Sang-woo grabs the knife and takes his own life, instead, because the truth isn't really that no one calls him home anymore.
The truth is that Sang-woo is the one who stopped listening when they called.
