#but also - i gotta find some happy hcs memes to reblog after this

[fyrewalks]

meta: bob + broken glasses

one.

bob is ten the first time someone breaks his glasses. it happens two weeks after his bubbe returns home to new jersey; two weeks since his mom has been out of bed or off the couch longer than a few hours. nearly three months since his dad's latest deployment and six since his older sister, stevie, died.

it happens on the playground, easy to assume it's some childish skirmish over a swing set - bob's shy even then, made worse by his grief, and prefers to stick to the outskirts and swings during outdoor play at day-camp. (summer day-camp instead of montana, instead of his mom accepting the good natured teasing about her being a city girl or the not so quiet arguments between his grandma and dad about who will take the floyd ranch someday.) none of the counselors hear the taunts. bob doesn't repeat them. the kids accuse him of being different; he assumes they're saying it because of his dead sister. (he won't realize the kind of different they mean for a few years.)

he hides his broken glasses in the back of one of his drawers. his mom doesn't notice, his dad's calls home are too infrequent, gracie's six and easy to distract. it's not till a few weeks of meal trains and hushed discussions about his mom and doctor's appointments among the aunties who come over to watch them that anyone notices he's supposed to be wearing them at all.

two.

the second time it happens, bob is a few months shy of fifteen, all awkward limbs and little self-confidence. it's his second cross-country meet and he doesn't want to be there. the floyds are back in virginia - after three different middle schools, there's only a few vaguely familiar faces here and none of them are on the team. it leaves bob feeling more out of place.

he came out as summer ended on a friday night, a rare shabbat dinner that's just gracie and their parents instead of the eclectic mix of friends from their synagogue and whoever on base that wants, or needs, a place to be on a friday night. his mom cries, though she tries not too, while it's his dad whose the first to hug him and reassure bob he's loved no matter what. he knows his parents talk about it later, that they confide in each other their fears about his future, but they brave his confession with watery smiles and the promise everything will be okay.

he doesn't come out at school. it's less a definitive choice and more that he doesn't need to. other kids simply just know. bob isn't sure what gives him away - if it's his slouchy posture, his voice, or something else entirely. most leave it alone, but there are taunts and curses in between classes; he's shoved into a locker, once. bob doesn't like it, but considers it tame. he's bounced between montana, virginia, and florida his entire life, usually living in the shadows of navy bases. he isn't ignorant. (new jersey, at least, only carries the weight of his dead sister.)

it's tame until it's not. until his second cross-country meet. bob's in the middle stretch, pace decent enough to keep up with some of the older kids, and he's actually starting to enjoy himself. and then there's a hand on his back and he's crashing to the ground, literally tasting dirt. bile rises in his throat as he watches his glasses get stomped on deliberately, he can't unhear the accompanying slur.

he makes it to the finish line with a limp, mud on his face, and broken glasses. when his mom fusses over him later, bob blames it on being clumsy. no sense in making her worry; he doesn't like it when she cries.

three.

bob's sixteen with a long summer of open blue sky awaiting him. he skips dinner with his grandma up at the big house in favor of the bunk house with the ranch hands hired for the season. someone hands him a beer with a wink and a sly 'don't tell your grandma'; it doesn't taste great, but after a day of fixing fences, he likes that it's ice cold. he likes that he belongs, he likes that he can imagine his dad at this age too - it's the first time he feels like a man.

most of the ranch hands know him, they've seen him grow up in bits in pieces. they finish dinner and bob's content to listen to the way conversation flows and settles around him until they drag him into it too. does he like school, what's florida like, how are his folks and sister back home. then - you kissing any girls, yet?

bob answers honestly, he hasn't kissed anyone. at first, he doesn't mind the laughter, but it turns bitter in the mouth of one of the new ranch hands. there's something ugly in his eyes.

a chair scrapes back and adrenaline blurs it all together. there's shouting and fists and someone pulling him out of the way. trying to retreat, bob catches an elbow in the face and his glasses end up under someone's boot.

the unmistakable sound of his grandma's shotgun ends the skirmish. his grandma stays behind to deal with the mess while an older ranch hand gets him fixed up in the big house. later, when bob still can't sleep, his grandma sits on the edge of his bed with a sigh. it's too dark to read her expression. she tells him that his dad will take it better coming from him rather than her and that if he wants to drink in her house, he better never get drunk or stupid; he can't throw a punch worth a damn.

four.

he's eighteen, and his mom won't stop crying. there shouldn't be tears, not with bob's new diploma and a mit acceptance letter pinned proudly to the fridge. at least, there shouldn't be so many tears; it is a bittersweet occasion, an unavoidable reminder of the dead sister forever frozen at fourteen.

grief isn't the reason for the tears, though. no, the real reason is the neat stack of paperwork tucked safely in bob's desk committing him to the nrotc and eight years of navy service after. it's a choice he refuses to budge on and it leads to a few tense weeks in the floyd household.

he knows somethings wrong the minute he walks in the kitchen two weeks after graduation, both parents seated at the small table, clearly waiting for him. gracie isn't home; she's got regionals coming up, they should be with her at practice. (bob's long since taken the backseat to her gymnastic aspirations and he's mostly been okay with her hogging their parents attention; he just hates that it's their focus on him that causes alarm bells to go off.)

it starts off simple enough - reminders of his parents sacrifices. his dad doing his best to ensure his children wouldn't be forced to choose between the life sentence of a ranch or the navy. his mom, happy with the life she chose, but still always wondering about the life she might have had if she hadn't dropped out of college to marry and raise children. it's the reason they both pushed so hard for academics and sports and extracurriculars. then, it's the pricey flight lessons touted as more of a financial burden then it really is for the floyds. if he wants to fly, isn't that enough for him?

bob might not get the whole picture, but his maternal grandparents paid for his truck. all cash. between all three grandparents, he knows his parents haven't hurt for much (so long as their pride hasn't stood in the way).

but god dammit, what about his own sacrifices? what about bob, ten and anxious and terrified, begging his mom to get out of bed? what about bob, stuck in the routine of waking up gracie and making sure she has breakfast and lunch even after his mom escapes the fog of depression? or his childhood? one marked by four elementary schools, three middle schools, and two high schools. no one should be surprised that he chose the navy when his dad's service defined his early life.

why is his choice to join the navy and fly any different than gracie's devotion to gymnastics? it's the same risk. gracie could break her neck too.

or, what about plain want? clear blue sky - bob saw so much of it on the ground, he wanted the 30,000 ft views too.

but these thoughts are kinder than the words actually said. bob drags up every awful detail of his mom's depression, how his dad's grief and ill timed deployment felt like neglect. it doesn't matter if his points about chores and helping with gracie were valid after that. the damage is done on his side.

there's more yelling and tears and then the final blow - his dad shouting that bob's gay and it makes him weak, the navy will chew him up and spit it him out. but his dad's temper runs fast and quick, it ends with a too quiet 'fine, if the navy's your choice, you got a day to get out of the house.' they won't burry another child.

bob, the ever dutiful son, listens. on the flight to montana, cramped in a back row, he looks at his glasses held loosely in his fist and thinks it might hurt less if they were broken.

four, five, or six?

three months after his parents kick him out, he goes from montana to boston. he starts at mit and he finds, surprisingly, with some encouragement from new friends that beer and whiskey and cigarettes make him braver than he's ever been.

and the thing is, he's got his dad's same quick temper; it's just he's never had much use for it, always too quiet and too shy to find anywhere to put it. but a crowded bar? a guy being a jerk and not listening? sure, that's as good a place as any.

turns out, his grandma is right - bob still doesn't know how to throw a punch. sometimes, he remembers how he got the bruises, crooked frames, and scratched lenses. sometimes, he doesn't. either way, bob tells himself he's got it under control. except - he misses classes, he can't wait tables hung over, and no one is exactly impressed with him at the nrotc.

in the end, it's a combination of things that get bob to quit drinking his second year of college. (although, he still occasionally sneaks cigarettes when stressed.) gracie crying, a few letters from his parents. more than a few genuine apologies. a concerned commanding officer, citing his dad's respectful career record and how bob won't measure up like this. a patient rabbi and a better group friends than his first roommate, the one who dragged bob out partying his first night in boston. trading bars and beers for the library, more classes to average out his abysmal gpa.

it changes somethings, a relationship with his parents that sometimes feels like walking on ice, deciding to focus on weapon systems than outright piloting, but not everything. bob recommits to his faith, goes back to pretending things don't bother him, and decides life's a lot easier when people think he's just some nerdy stick in the mud than someone who can't handle his liquor.

[queenharumiura]

♛ be gentle with me—

Please let this be the last one. My arms/hands are actually dying. I won’t accept any more after I post this. OTL||||||||||| //have pity on me please

my opinion on;

character in general: //breaths in deep I LOVE HIBARI KYOUYA!!!!!!!!! Honestly, let’s not get me started on how much I love him like... just don’t. It’s a rough ride, yo. Seriously though, Hibari is a fun character. I also really like his design like hello gorgeous piece of man //pet pet pets the screen ahahahahahaahah. I also love the gap moe kinda thing with how he loves his animals and they all love him back. It breaks my heart all the time like omg. NEVER FORGET THE REGENT HIBIRD. NEVER FORGET ROLL FREAKING OUT AS HE’S FALLING AND HIBARI JUST SMILES AT HIM LIKE ALKJSDFLAJSF HELLO 911? I NEED HELP.

Basically: My love for Hibari cannot truly be described with words and I’d need a readmore from the very first question if I were to go all out so let’s not. 

how they play them: Google voice-Did you mean: How does Hibari torment Haru? lolol okay jokes aside, the mun puts a lot of effort into rp’ing as Hibari. Whenever I see him on my dash I like to take a moment to read. I like the way that he uses a lot of vocabulary and a lot of descriptions. I make a point to note this because I personally struggle with that. My style is more simplistic and I sometimes forget to use descriptions. Therefore I really like his writing style. Aside from that, I feel as though the style greatly reflects Hibari as a character. It suits him. 

He takes RP’ing seriously and that is very commendable. You can tell this is true with how much effort he puts into not only his threads but also his meme answers. The ones that ask about HC things, they are really long and indepth so I really respect that. I often go short on those bc lazy. I’m too lazy for my own good and yet for ‘truthful memes’ I’m like okay. //sits down and cracks neck. I’M READY. The Hibari played exhibits a lot of traits that I also believe him to have. Like though he is a rough guy to be around, he understands that one must at least be civil to the ladies. He understands that when there is no animosity being shown, he can try to be civil back. 

The fact that though he’s very aloof and seemingly uncaring, he does. He’s attentive in his own way and understands social customs. I just feel as though I can identify the Hibari to fitting with how I see Hibari so that really pleases me. He also is a bit different from how I’ve seen some other Hibari muses being played and again, VARIIIIEEEETTTYYY. GOTTA LOVE IT. Pretty sure I’ve talked about variety in like each and every single one of these memes. lolthe mun: FRRIIIIIIEEEEEND!! Since this meme requires brutal honesty, I will admit that I always struggle to remember the nickname. It’s Kiril/Kirill right? In my heart I call you both Lan and Hibari. Yes, much like I am Haru to you, you are Hibari to me. YEEUUUUP. I love talking to you on tumblr and on skype (when I can remember to log on lol). I always find it cute when you offer things like truffles and such. It makes me feel like i’m being spoiled a bit and that’s always a fun time. ^^ 

Whenever I reblog anything that looks like fun I know that I can expect to see you there in my ask eventually. (I was actually waiting for you to come in for this one XD) If I reblog anything that requires me to write out a drabble of any kind, I know for a fact with like 90% certainty that you’ll request one like you say often ‘because you are a greedy dragon’. I actually enjoy that since I love writing, particularly drabbles. I absolutely adore the ones that I write for your Hibari so it brings me much joy to write them. 

I particularly really like the way that you are affectionate, and you openly state that you love my Haru (and my extension myself) and to me that’s high praise. Anyone who loves my Haru just deserves all my love to be honest. So being told that I remind you of Haru just means so much to me like wow. Is this the Emmies? Where is my trophy? Of course, I always thought of you as Hibari as well so ironically we both remind each other of muses. 

do i;

follow them: HEEEEELLLL YEAAAHH!!!!rp with them: That I dowant to rp with them: If that is to mean would I like to rp with all kinds of threads including on other blogs? Sure sure! I’m always willing to try something new!ship their character with mine: //sweats bullets Okay, the mun himself knows that I absolutely love 1886, and every once in a while I get linked art and it just gives me life. Like yes. This is my legacy. Offer me tributes of 1886 art. Yes please. Good stuff. I’m pleased. 

Now in terms of shipping with his Hibari (which i’m sure that is what this question is really referring to) then I’m honestly kind of on the fence with it. I could see it happening, but at the same time-- I’m not too sure how well it would work out. For me, I need to like the character, get along with the mun, and feel a connection between the characters. So far, we have 2/3 of the criteria. I get along very well with the mun and I love Hibari. The way he’s portrayed in this blog also has a special place in my heart. Since these two are still kind of in the acquaintance stage I can’t really tell if they have a connection or not so I’d have to say that while I ship 1886, I don’t particularly ship our two muses together. If it were to happen, then I’m all for it. If not, i’m more than happy to just bug Hibari or allow Hibari to bug Haru. XD

what is my;

overall opinion: This is is kinda long isn’t it? Let’s use a cut this time: 

AHHHH my good friend Hibari who plays Hibari. //laughs

Really though, thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk to you and to interact with your Hibari. I don’t think I told you this ever, but since this a meme telling me to be ‘brutally’ honest, I gotta let everything I can think of out. 

Did you know that I originally thought that you hated me and I was just like ‘but whyyyyyyyyyy? QAQ’ The reason for this is because you did follow me, but then unfollowed me and followed again. To ONLY UNFOLLOW ONCE MORE. I was like ‘DUDE???? LIKE DECIDE PLEASE? MY POOR  HEART??????’ You did contact me later saying that you were having issues and then after that I was like: “Oh okay you’re not doing this on purpose? I can live.” I seriously thought you hated me to be unfollowing me so often. LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL So yeah, I actually was very very afraid of you in the beginning like you don’t understand. 

Then as I got to know you, I was like ‘yo did person is like hella nice and hella affectionate? Hell yeah I’ll take truffles. Hell yes i’ll take bear hugs!!’ 

Hugs= instantly you raise up in the ranks of friendship. No joke.

I always find it a very comforting thing when people give out hugs, primarily if they are the ones to give out hugs first. It just makes me think: “wow this person likes me enough to initiate the hugging instead of me asking for one? 80!!!!!!!”

It’s always wonderful to see you enjoying the different meme responses I give. Either you laugh at things or you just find things really cute. I write things usually hoping for a particular reaction. Some answers I write looking for laughter, some I write hoping you’ll find them cute, etc. You always seem to zoom in on what I’m going for so I really appreciate that. 

We’ve also done a lot of talking in ask and on skype of various things and we feel the same way about various things so I trust you a lot as an RP’er to be fair to people. 

So all in all, I’m very VERY happy that I’ve met you and i’m absolutely always grateful that you were willing to give me and Haru a chance. 

ANYONE WHO LOVES HARU OR GIVES HARU A CHANCE INSTANTLY GETS MY LOVE 

//chucks chocolate at you

Never forget, no matter what happens in life, remember that Haru and I are always cheering you on! Do your best, me friend!