#that song was there for me when nobody else was

[sunr1seblvd]

- red.

'cause loving him was red.

this is apart of my taylor swift-inspired series. click here to read more stories!

summary: a summation of you and rafe's relationship. a/n: merry christmas! (its november 1st when i'm writing this) warnings: bad relationships, drugs (what else is new), drinking/alcohol, lowk toxic!rafe wc: 742

you were watching netflix on your laptop when you got the call.

the call that would inevitably change your life.

"rafe? what's up?"

"who is this?" a female voice asked.

oh no.

"this is his girlfriend, who are you?"

"i'm his girlfriend, what ar-" you hung up the call.

when you were younger, you promised yourself that you wouldn't the type of person this would happen to. you'd have the man of your dreams, who'd be an amazing father, who'd be an amazing husband. you should've known that rafe was none of those things.

you shut off your laptop and plopped it on the floor, not caring how it fell. curled in the fetal position under the covers of your bed, your eyes burned as you cried and cried and cried.

you thought you and rafe had a good thing going. you were a senior at UNC and were probably going to get your doctorate, too. you met your sophomore year, the blonde enticing you.

you should've known.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

"ready to go, babe?"

rafe turned towards you and looked you up. "what are you wearing?"

you looked down at your outfit. it wasn't necessarily revealing, it was mid-july, for christ's sake.

"a tank top and shorts, rafe? want do you want me to wear? temple clothing?"

"no, but if your gonna be my girl, cover up. nobody wants to see all that," he said while grabbing his keys and leaned in the doorway. "just do it."

you felt a fiery pit of anger in your heart. who was he to say what you can wear?

"no rafe, it's almost 95 degrees outside! i'm not putting jeans on or a jacket."

rafe shrugged. "okay then." he then went downstairs.

"rafe? where are you going?" you followed him downstairs to the foyer,

"out."

"where is 'out'? why are you leaving?"

"probably topper's or the country club. it's exhausting to be in the same house as you sometimes."

you stood there, shellshocked. you tried to move your legs, to run to walk, to sprint, to do something.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

you woke straight up. no longer fully under the covers up your bed, you rolled over to look at your phone.

2:30 am

ten missed calls from rafe <3

2 text messages from Mom

you got up to go to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. jeez, you looked rough. your mascara smudged, chapped lips almost bleeding...

you need to think.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

"y/n?"

"come in."

your mom walked in to see you pouring over your notebook, computer, and guitar. you wrote and wrote and wrote, then erased and erased.

"what's this?"

"i needed to think. sometime last night i realized that i couldn't stay sad about me and rafe, so here i am."

"okay, just wanted to check up on you. your dad and i are having dinner in an hour, are you coming?"

"yep," you replied, not looking away from your computer.

your mom sighed. "okay...love you."

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

"AHHH!! i got the audition!"

cleo, sarah, and kie whipped their head towards you and crowded around you and your computer.

"congrats!"

"good job!"

"what are you going to call the song?"

you got up and looked out the window in your room.

"i'm not sure."

then it dawned on you.

the relationship you had with rafe with rafe was passionate. the relationship you had with rafe was painful. the relationship you had with rafe was red.

burning red.

"it's gonna be called red."

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

you were in the green room for your SNL slot. your audition went perfectly, and they offered you a record deal. so here you are, two years later, about to make your SNL debut.

"y/n?" one of the crew poked their head in "you're on in five, okay?"

"thanks!"

you turned back to the mirror, taking in your features. you think back to that last night two years ago, the smudged mascara and chapped lips juxtaposing your perfect eyeliner and perfect foundation.

your phone got a notification.

you didn't see a name.

who is this?

y/n. it's rafe. i'm sorry.

you rolled your eyes.

rafe, don't do this. don't come crawling back to me knowing full well you're the reason this relationship ended. you made this bed, lie in it. goodbye, rafe.

the same crew member poked their head in again.

"y/n? it's time."

you turned off you phone and shoved it in your purse.

younger you was right.

loving him was red.

[pjomakesyourkidsgay]

one man orchestra | p. jackson

synopsis: you have an unexpected audience apart from your bunk and your dirty laundry.

warnings: fem!reader, persephone!reader, violin player!reader, bf!percy

wc: 618

being a demigod is hard.

it's not just the supernatural stuff, like monsters, godly feuds, prophecies and unwelcome dreams. there's the fact that you're just different from many kids your age when you're outside camp — you have to deal with studying through your dyslexia, seeing stuff that no one else would believe was real if you'd told them, fighting off beasts that seem to sense you no matter where you were.

although, to be honest, being in camp wasn't any easier.

just being the daughter of persephone, a virgin goddess, set you aside from the other campers. it's too time-consuming to explain your origins, so you end up just distancing yourself from every one else.

nobody reached out, nobody bothered you. so you find solace in a hobby that kept you indoors. you stand in your cabin, hands on your hips as you glare at the pile of burned or shredded clothes on the floor. weeks ago you'd agreed to reuse them with the demeter and aphrodite cabins, perhaps remake new items like bags or hats, but the smell of the burned material was stinking up your whole room!

you decide that it's not suitable for human use, ever, not even any other living organism, so you threw it out into the overflowing camp trash bin, already full of broken arrows and bent swords.

looking around at your empty cabin, no boyfriend or siblings or friends resting inside, you take out the battered case from beneath your bed. not battered because of misuse, no. battered because of age.

your precious violin lies inside in velvet lining, like a corpse waiting for you to take it out to see sunlight once more. you take it gently in your hands, handling it like an infant before assuming a comfortable position and gliding the bow against the strings.

eventually you lose yourself in the melody and rhythm of your own, fingers moving on their own as you play a song you've memorized by heart. eyes closed, your ears take in the music as your lungs take in air, as if it were part of you now, necessary to keep living.

if flowers were not in your veins, you would've been certain that sunlight ran through it.

you go on playing for a time that felt so long but so short, and as you let the last note ring, a different sound grabs your attention.

"you never told me you played."

the smooth sound of your boyfriend's voice wraps around you, flesh hitting flesh in an action of praise. a slight blush in embarrassment of being caught spread out on your cheeks.

percy's clapping draws to a close. he walks forward to you and sits down by your side, grinning. "were you just escaping from playing for me?"

you roll your eyes, bumping him softly with your shoulder. "no, silly. i just wasn't sure i could play in front of an audience."

"why? you're amazing at it."

"i don't know." you shrug. "nerves. anxiety. that i might mess it up."

percy puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, rubbing circles into the cloth of your shirt. "well, i'm hoping i can be an exception. i'm a great hype man, you know."

that brings a smile to your lips. "yes, i know you are."

"you wanna grab something to eat?" he asks, offering a hand as he stands. you follow suit, interlacing your hands with his. "and then you can teach me how to play."

you smirk. "you sure you're up for violin, jackson?"

"as long as you're the teacher," he grins, pulling you out and close to him.

a fist hits his chest soon after. "great hype man but horrible flirt."

"hey!"

[judaskore]

Curly and Jimmy give me the vibe of two people who grew up together and became close friends but they wonder if they would actually be friends if not for proximity. Although neither of them will ever speak of it.

Curly has seen Jimmy be kind which makes it easier to dismiss his much more numerous cruelties. Jimmy has resentment being compared to Curly throughout his life.

Jimmy has been there for Curly when something horrible happened and he couldn't talk about it with anyone else. Curly has seen Jimmy stick his wiener into something he should have never stuck is wiener into and get it physically stuck.

Anyways Nobody by the Crane Wives is a Curly and Jimmy song

[triglycercule]

horror being very specific with table manners and he berates people (dust and killer) for eating like fucking pigs

i think it'd be morbidly funny that because there was no food in horrortale but the cutlery and stuff was all there that maybe he would pretend to eat with no food on the plate. it was in a satirical way that he would joke maybe around horror paps or alone where he would pretend to eat and have really good table manners but then the satire joke became REAL and now horror is incredibly specific about how to eat food

you MUST hold the fork in the left and knife in right says horror. no killer you can't duel wield the fucking knives this is a table not a slaughterhouse. dust pick up your elbows off the table. actually how about you get your entire upper body off the table tf why are you SLEEPING ON THE FOOD??? killer's sitting fetal position in the chair because of course he wouldn't sit normally like the idiot he is. dust is forced to put his hood down and reveal his face no more mysterious shadow style because it puts horror at ease. they cannot have a single peaceful meal because once they get past the table manners phase it then becomes a completion to see who can eat the least (because they suck at everything including eating)

[bookshopsbizarreblog]

I might be going crazy, but UnEnd E2 contains the word "balustrade" and...

It is a word that has only been spoken three times in the entirety of Midst media, which would seem to make sense. It's hardly a common phrase. But it's when those three times occured that make it stand out.

Spoilers ahead

The first time it was spoken was during the moon tearror, S2E4: Weather. During an unprecedented disaster of reality-tearing proportions, the teletheric broadcast is warped and twisted. And, in the background, between and behind other lines, it says

"…skies occluded with the substrate aberrant / universe / mat which is the tale of sings…” [continues in the background, unintelligible]

“…sweet listener going / going u-uch…”

“…dark trenches where the light cannot glow or go / Arca / balustrade / Caenum…”

Now, in the context of Midst, there's not much apparent reason for balustrade to be mentioned. Everything else seems to have some sort of place. The substance aberrant is fold, and it is known for devouring light (literally), particularly as you travel into the deeper trenches of the vast fold sea. The Arca and Caenum are significant parts of the worldbuilding. Balustrade stands out.

The second time balustrade is mentioned is what I thought that broadcast was pointing to. In S2E19: Exposed, it is mentioned that High Notary Milton Fleit, one of the three primary leaders of the Trust, is clutching a balustrade while looking down at a freshly Arca'd Moc Weepe. Now, this seems like a fairly innocuous detail, and it could tie that broadcast to a nice narrative conclusion. It was foreshadowing the events of later in the season, with the Arca blasting Weepe, him standing before the Upper Trust as they clutched at the balustrade, to declare a way to deal with the most Caenum-ous criminal the Trust had ever seen (and thus solve their financial issues).

But then balustrade got mentioned again in UnEnd. This time right after the miraculous fold light was put on display, and the impossible dark-mica unship is about to take off into the highest reaches of the cosmos. The granddaughter, a proto-Mother Merciful (who's arc I am so excited to watch) was clinging to one.

Now, it could just be that balustrade is a cool word for a railing.

But it keeps coming up in reference to tearrorfying fold-related things, where the neat ordering of cosmic light and dark are upended. The moon tearror. Black-blood jelly Weepe seizing control of the Highest Light. And now The Ship and its impossible engine going up. It's all about light falling or darkness rising, and the mad results of their mixture.

Ironically, balustrade means that the railings are gone.

Whatever the case, thank you for the amazing shows @midstpodcast

[untimelyambition]

i am begging on my hands and knees for jon matteson and bryce charles to sing a song together. since i first watched npmd, every single day without fail i have thought about their harmonies together in hatchet town (“if he gets me next i could be three” and “fits the bill, he fits the bill”) literally the sickest harmonies in the entire show, i turn into a little gremlin every time i hear them. their voices sound SO good together it actually makes me a little ill. my favourite song my favourite line my favourite harmonies, their voices blend perfectly and i am so desperate to hear them sing a duet to hear them singing together again pls pls please pls pls pls. pls.

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

Fully dressed, cry in the bath I’m still a child Pick me up, reuse me ‘til the glue melts apart From the heat of the argument

[simcardiac-arrested]

honestly don't even remember what happened in 2017 at all, it was a year. that year is no longer.

what the fuck DIDN’T happen in 2017

[rubiatinctorum]

What more than enough commentary on songs from 2011-2012 kind of just doesn't address is how much of a thing the end of the world prediction was in pop music. At least, it seemed to me, there was so much hype about that shit. Besides the general #YOLO attitude of the time that carried on beyond 2012 for another couple of years, it was so easy to just bust out a 'the world's gonna end soon' lyric. In times like the ones right now, it's kind of easy to look back on those lyrics and think 'isn't that a little weird, thinking that life's gonna stop so soon and putting that in party music?' but even if certain people didn't actually think the world was gonna end, they committed to the bit for songs. It really didn't seem unusual to me at all at the time.

[finalgirlgretchen]

crazy how actually every seemingly innocuous decision i have ever made can be traced back to some weird neurosis i have about myself and the way i exist in the world

[livvyofthelake]

who could possibly have seen it coming that the first thing in literal ages that i would be so obsessed with i actually am able to cross the first and most major hurdle to amv making. getting scenes. that that thing would be cbs firefighter drama fire country…

[draconicsplendor]

Just listened to the puzzle song again and it never fails to make me a bit emotional, even after several years of not revisiting it. @thatsthat24 it’s such a fun, quirky song but it resonates with me so much 🩵

I have to rewatch Sanders Sides over the holidays, man. I’m sure I’d get new lessons from it now than I did in middle school and high school.

[cherry-shipping]

one of the (admittedly many) reasons i love love love LOVE my uf and ht self inserts i think is because all the shit i hate about myself is amplified with them and i LOVE them for it. theyre weird gross perverted overbearing annoying creeps who nobody really feels comfortable around. and its the BEST!!!!!!!!! like yeah they suck shit. they dont know anything and theyre genuinely disturbing and disgusting people. arent they just the BEST

[teleomancer]

.

[astranauticus]

wow. 0 days since my last deeply evil animatic idea

[kandicon]

My friends r being mean to me :(( (<- merely asking how many songs a band has and how long it's been since they last existed anywhere after I go on a two hour rant about how the given band is the best thing to ever exist.)

Anyways on a completely unrelated note, listen to Mind Body Problem