#writers block i will Hurt you

[satoruvt]

i'm writing guys i promise i didnt just change my url and then dip

[muffinlance]

Do you get the impression the live action is treating us like utter morons?? Like I thought that making it aimed at an older audience would open the doors for more subtle story telling, but no, they're just using monologues to tell us eveything! Like in the second episode Katara's like 'oh his power isn't that he's the avatar, it's that he ~connects~ to people'. Girl we're not idiots we can see that!! And the first episode with Aang's goddawful 'I don't want this responsibility' monologue

THIS, YES. The word that keeps coming to mind is definitely "subtlety". The show for literal children? Had it. The remake for adults? Not so much.

[seaweedstarshine]

Late to the game as I’ve kinda been kinda non-here for a minute but I scrolled through the Dot and Bubble tag, and thought I wanted to write this post into existence.

There's this part in Doctor Who Unleashed where RTD says this:

“What we can’t tell is how many people will have worked that out before the ending. Because they’ve seen white person after white person after white person, and television these days is very diverse. I wonder, will you be ten minutes into it, will you be fifteen, will you be twenty, before you start to think, everyone in this community is white. And if you don’t think that — why didn’t you? So, that’s gonna be interesting. I hope it’s one of those pieces of television you see, and always remember.”

And I'm like. Yeah. But the reason this works even as well as it does is largely thanks to the work of the previous showrunner with the previous creative team, which was notably the first era to have any writers of color (amongst other firsts in terms of inclusivity in directors, composer, actors). While Chibnall fumbled whenever he tried to write about race himself, he did have the self-awareness to have Black and South Asian writers writing the episodes where race is the focus (and a female writer for the episode where sexism is a focus; my point is, he seemed to know his shortcomings).

I wonder what the current creative team looks like? (not really, but I wasn't 100% sure for all of them)

To quote RTD:

“...before you start to think, everyone in this community is white.”

This is pretty non-self-aware, right? It's pretty “It is said, and I understand this, there was a history of racism with the original Toymaker, the Celestial Toymaker, who had ‘celestial,’ and I did not know this, but ‘celestial’ can mean of Chinese origin, but in a derogatory way,” right? (from The Giggle Unleashed) It's pretty “and I had problems with that, and a lot of us on the production team had problems with that: associating disability with evil,” right? (from Destination Skaro Unleashed)

—none of which are issues that should be overlooked, but think how much exponentially better they might’ve been addressed if he’d consulted with Chinese writers and wheelchair-using writers before going straight to giving the Toymaker weird fake accents and making Davros walk?

How many Black or non-white people do we think saw the Dot and Bubble script before it landed in Ncuti’s hands?

And this just keeps happening.

And like, from some of the shocked responses I've seen from white viewers to the ending of Dot and Bubble, maybe the episode's unsubtlety was needed? From the way RTD talks about it in Unleashed, the episode was written with a white audience in mind, Baby's First Microaggressions (where of course the microaggressions come from people who are pretty self-admittedly white supremacists). Ricky September, a more seemingly normal depiction of someone in the racist bubble of Finetime, seemed like an interesting element, up until the way he died.

The ending worked for me, because I do think the Doctor's reaction is true to how the Doctor would react. I just keep thinking of how much better the core themes could've been handled by someone with actual lived experience on the subject matter.

[lavenderpanic]

Not the Peggy dickriders missing the point so hard they stumble their way into my conversation about how I don't like that Peggy "Nazi sympathizer" Carter has displaced other female characters and characters of color in favor of heteronormative, poorly written plots about characters that we left behind five years ago

[theearlgreymage]

Uh. So. Hi. I promise I'm not dead out here.

Life has been chaotic and my brain hasn't been interested in doing anything I want it to lately.

But. We're trying here. On the bright side, my classroom is immaculate and ready for the new school year to start this week.

Anyways.

Thank you so much to every single one of you that have continued tagging me 😭 It means the world to still be included in everyone's Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday Posts -

@ic3-que3n @artsyunderstudy @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @hushed-chorus @aristocratic-otter @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @rimeswithpurple @j-nipper-95 @ivelovedhimthroughworse @foolofabookwyrm-activated @cutestkilla @confused-bi-queer @facewithoutheart

You are all amazing. And I'm sure there are names I've missed, but I only went back three weeks, haha.

Now, enough babbling from me. Here's what you're all here for - a variety of 6 sentences from some of my projects that are rotting my brain.

Eirly's (a COBB project with @artsyunderstudy & @shrekgogurt)

He’s alive.  Everything I’ve done. Every line I’ve crossed.  It was all worth it.  Now if only he’d put down the bloody sword and help me out of this infernal trap.  “Snow?” I call out to him.

Aster & Narcissus (a COBB project with @ivelovedhimthroughworse)

Still, there’s too much power nestled in his hand. I could sense it when we tumbled down the hill. It was like having a sparking ember crash into my chest. He was so warm in my arms as I grabbed onto him in the fall. And when I offered him my hand, I felt that power even more concentrated. Mixed with a feeling of unbridled urgency. 

Infinity in Your Chest Pocket

Why is this slowly starting to feel like a date?  It’s not. I know it’s not. But I still can’t stop my mind from wandering down a path where it is.  As soon as Vera has left the room, I’m rushing to put my violin away and fish my phone from my jeans pocket. There’s no way I’m going to be able to handle being alone with Snow for an entire afternoon - watching him try on clothes and eating food with him. 

An Untitled Project

"[redacted]," I plead. I beg. I've never been more desperate as I am in this moment. My heart has lodged its way into my throat. If [redacted] doesn't breathe, then neither will I. I'll choke on my own heart right here before I leave him. 

Tags Under the Cut

Hello there my lovely friends. I hope you have all been doing amazing lately!!

@bookish-bogwitch @captain-aralias @ebbpettier @erzbethluna @fatalfangirl @gekkoinapeartree @henreyettah @ileadacharmedlife @ionlydrinkhotwater @johnwgrey @krisrix @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @moodandmist @mostlymaudlin @onepintobean @orange-peony @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @stitchyqueer @tea-brigade @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb

[migrainedmarten]

Techland just posted my screenshot on their FB page, no one is safe, pack your shit, we're escaping into wilderness never to be seen again

[leechandoki]

Peeps who writes or draws

please avoid those flashing gif.

don't get me wrong they look nice and pretty ⬇️

but understand I am now avoiding this tag for the time being because it became this

warning flashing lights undercut

The related tags all became flashing lights because the preview takes images from the post. I am one of the lucky ones that isn't epileptic but damn it hurts my eyes and gives me a headache.

so again, please please please!!! avoid these kind of gifs!! thank you!!

[nightmare8-420]

i feel like a part of my soul has been ripped from my chest and i dont know why.

[themysticalbookletsworld]

"Whispers of Love's Weight: Navigating the Heart's Heavy Toll"🥀

[imaginethathaikyuu]

chat is making fun of a dead woman and using the word fat as an insult “real feminism?”

mind you these were comments on a post about … building taylor swift in minecraft 😭😭😭

[raine-world]

Autocorrect stop changing "Quirrel" to "Squirrel" challenge: Impossible.

[mccoys-killer-queen]

Give Me the Lights (Tommy x Reader)- Part 2

Words: 4,991

Summary: Read part 1 first. Tommy's laid down for a nap on the first day of spring, feeling defeated from seasonal depression eating away at his motivation and confidence in his songwriting. Little does he know that spring might be coming right on schedule after all...

-----

(March 20th, 1979)

Finally, there were lights. That was all Tommy knew.

It was the only thing he could sense before he even opened his eyes; lights above him, lights before him, and lights all around him. Though he couldn't recall how he found himself in his current setting, all he knew was that the lights had come back at last.

It was apparent that these lights were calling out to him, too, as if the glow from underneath his eyelids was a delicate request to get them to open.

He obeyed this request, letting his eyes unlock the scenery that was there. When he lifted his head, Tommy was intrigued to see that he was sailing on tranquil waters.

But how did he get there? For a moment, he didn't remember going out on the water. Then, the recent memory of him doing so suddenly flashed into his mind. Upon realizing he'd temporarily forgotten where he was, he chuckled to himself and bashfully looked down at his lap. 

"Go on, then," your voice softly urged from nearby.

When Tommy looked up, he could finally see where all the lights were coming from. At first glance, he could've sworn they were coming from you.

You sat on the opposite end of the small boat he was apparently on, a calm but eager smile beaming at him. Once his vision stabilized, Tommy realized that the lights weren't coming from you; they were coming from the liquid gold of the sunset behind you.

You were not silhouetted, but rather haloed, by the glory of this light. The sun was your halo, and your appearance was nothing short of ethereal. In addition to this saintly display, the sunset also hit every little ripple on the surface of the lake, which brought thousands of individual, heavenly reflections into existence.

Every single glowing dot surrounding you both seemed to fill Tommy with music. Every twinkle of divine light on the water was audible; calling out to him. It was as if each sparkle before him had its own unique, singular note.

These notes harmoniously filled Tommy's ears, pairing together in ways that could only be described as right.

After a moment, he realized that the notes were no longer in his ears, nor were they on the water; they were now in his hands. He then felt his mandolin being held close to his chest, as well as his fingers involuntarily plucking and strumming at its strings.

Most importantly, he was playing a song— the song you didn't know about— and it was truly completed.

It sounded flawless to him in that moment. Everything around him made it absolutely perfect. All the little lights on the water acted as amplifiers to every note, and they began to dance to the melody Tommy was singing. 

Finally, there was music.

Tommy continued to go forth with his song, happily playing and playing away with all the joy in his body. He hadn't felt this happy in what seemed like forever. He could feel the smile on his face, the wind in his hair, and the warm salvation of the sun on his body. Everything finally felt so right again. He wanted to feel this way forever, so he kept playing on. As long as he played on, this feeling would never leave him. 

As he played, you began to harmonize with his own voice. The light behind you grew steadily brighter and brighter, until Tommy could no longer see your silhouette before him. He heard your voice getting distant, yet the music carried on- echoing everywhere until he could only hear himself singing.

Eventually, everything around him got swallowed up into whiteness. Only his voice and his joy remained.

There was no more water, no more music; there was only light.

Finally, Tommy knew what had been missing.

***

Tommy could still see the white light from under his eyelids just before his eyes opened. When they did, he saw the late afternoon sunlight falling over him on the couch. He was warm and relaxed where he lay, but it all felt just a little too warm.

He noticed it instantly, and the first conscious thought he had was "why?"

Wearily lifting his head, he received a quick answer to his question; he had been lying underneath a blanket, which he swore he had not put there himself. This made him wonder just how long he slept for, as he'd clearly been asleep long enough to make a blanket miraculously appear.

Tommy glanced at the clock on the wall, which caused him to then do a double-take. He was taken aback when he saw that he'd been lying out cold on the couch for the past three hours. The first afternoon of spring had already passed him by so fast.

With it now being the early evening, this meant you had surely come home a while ago— and that you were most likely the one who tucked him in under the blanket during his nap.

Tommy hoisted himself into a sitting position, scratched his head, and gazed out the window nearby. Expecting to see another winter wasteland, he blinked and did another double-take when he saw that there was no ice in sight outdoors. 

He threw the blanket off of himself and rushed up to the glass. Sure enough, the remaining snow and the fresh ice from earlier was nowhere to be found. The landscape looked rather damp, but the sun was hitting every wet surface, resulting in a fine vapor rising off the ground.

As he gazed around at the misty, golden sight of the fields, music began to play inside his ears once more. Suddenly, something creative took to Tommy's heart again; it was his own song that he was hearing in his head. For the first time, he thought it sounded right. He thought it sounded complete.

Upon hearing the correct notes echoing around his mind, Tommy's eyes lit up in remembrance of the dream he'd just awoken from. He quietly gasped to himself, and looked around the room in urgency.

In his slumber, he had been in his 'happy place'; could that have been what was missing all along?

Eager to find out for himself, he pranced into the next room, calling out for you.

"Y/n?" he poked into the kitchen, "Y/n, you in here?"

You were pulling back from the fridge when he appeared in the doorway. It was nearly supper time, so you were about to get a start on cooking something for you both.

 "Good morning, sleepy," you teased him as you cracked a sweet smile, "I was planning on making-"

"There's no snow outside?" he interrupted you with a bewildered tone.

You broadened your smile as you went over to the window above the sink, pulling back the curtain, "Yeah— crazy, right? The weather actually turned around while you were sleeping. It warmed up a bit, the sleet turned to rain, then the sun came out! How's that for the first day of spring?"

Tommy joined you at the window, and you both peered out together. In the distance, he saw your usual walking path, and let a soft smile overtake his face.

"Get your coat."

"What?" you blinked in confusion at his abrupt command.

"We can go out for dinner later- but we need to go on a walk right now."

"Right now?"

Tommy nodded, allowing his teeth to become visible in his smile. 

"Yeah, right now," he began to look very excited to you, which was something you had not seen from him in quite a while. 

"Why right now?"

"Because it's important" he turned away from the window, baby-blue eyes boggling at you. He put his hands on your shoulders and stressed, "It's very important."

That eager look on his face was something you missed, and its presence suddenly returning without warning was enough to convince you to roll with whatever he was planning.

"Okay, if you insist," you leaned forward and quickly pecked his lips, "Though now you've got me a little worried."

"I can live with that," Tommy quickly kissed you in return— doing so in such a way he hadn't for a few weeks, "I've gotta go grab something- meet me outside."

With that, he trotted away and pounded up the stairs. After shaking your head and putting your chosen food back into the fridge, you sped to the coat rack in the same manner.

Your lover had piqued your curiosity. Although you knew his idea was spontaneous, it was as if he had some underlying plan that he was trying to keep a secret. His sudden impulse to do an activity so soon after waking up seemed rather abrupt and unprompted to you.

Tommy was very certain of his impulsive decision, however; the time to do it was finally right, and he didn't want to waste one single second.

***

"You're still not gonna tell me?" you huffed as you tried to keep up with him on the path, "Whatever it is, it'll still be there in a few minutes, right?"

Tommy was a few feet ahead of you, eagerly trotting ahead towards whatever he insisted you needed to get to.

He stressed to you, "It will, but trust me— the effect will be better if we get there right now."

Scoffing, you picked up your pace, "The 'effect'? If you told me we were gonna be running in a hurry, I wouldnt've brought my coat..."

As you stayed close behind him, your vision squared in on the drawstring bag he carried on his back. Tommy had met you outside with said bag on his back, and immediately urged you to come along without acknowledging it in any way since. You felt both compelled and tempted to ask him what was in it. 

You knew he wouldn't tell you, however; he was deliberately being vague in every way imaginable and not answering any of your questions directly.

Instead, you reached out and touched the bag, pushing on it slightly. When Tommy felt this light sensation, he turned around and childishly snapped, "Hey! Don't spoil the surprise!"

"Tommy, how I can be sure you're not luring me into the woods to trap me or something?" you chucked with what breath you still had, "I trust you too much, and you know that's my weakness."

"But we live together," he said without missing a beat or a step, "So that means I've already trapped you, right?"

You rolled your eyes with an exasperated smile. You couldn't argue with his logic.

Through your touch, you didn't gather much information about what was inside Tommy's bag. The one thing you did discover was that there was but a large, singular object inside of it. This only raised more questions in your head, so you gave up on your wondering and kept along with his stride.

Eventually, you reached the part of your walking route that led to the lake. Once the lake was in sight, Tommy's speed picked up, and he excitedly took you by the hand to lead you to the shore. When you both reached the edge of the water, he finally stopped his urgent rush, and dropped your hand from his grasp. He stared outwards, gazing upon the scenery with an expression full of what appeared to be relief and contentedness. 

The evidence of the sudden temperature change was still visible on the lake. There was a gentle steam floating off the surface of the water, along with a clear reflection of the post-storm/pre-dusk sky.

"Perfect," Tommy said under his breath, then immediately began to trot again. You didn't follow him this time, however; you wanted to observe his strange actions and try to deduce a rationale from them. You watched as he jogged alongside the shore of the lake, but only got a few yards away until it suddenly became clear to you what he was heading towards. 

The little row boat that'd been anchored on the edge of the lake was still residing there. Tommy approached, and immediately began to uncover it as if he were going to take it out on the water. Once he removed the cover and dusted away the debris that had gathered under it throughout the winter, he turned back in your direction and waved to you from afar.

"Come on over!" he called out, "First outing of the season!"

You could see his smile from where you stood, and thought it to be a bit odd that he appeared so joyful all of a sudden. He'd spent the past few weeks being down in the dumps nearly 24/7, and now there he was, running around and full of the energy that you weren't expecting to see for a while yet.

"Are you serious?" you called back to him, "Right now?"

"Yes!" he motioned towards himself with a chuckle, "Come on!"

You picked up your pace again and jogged over to where he stood with the boat. Before you reached him, you yelled in his direction as you laughed, "You could've just told me you wanted to take the boat out, you know!"

"You said we would celebrate the first day of spring, didn't you?" he began to push the boat towards the dock (with not much success).

Beginning to lend him a hand, you told him, "Oh yeah— I did say that, didn't I?"

"But that's not the reason why we needed to come out here."

Your eyes rolled as you whined at his continuing secretiveness, "Tommy...!"

"Don't worry!" he assured you, "I'll tell you why we're here soon. Just trust me- it's gonna be great- and you'll see why in a sec."

That was your Tommy, alright; his intuition was a force to be reckoned with, and at times he wanted everybody to trust in it as well.

With the boat now aptly in the water, your lover told you to hop on board from the dock. He untied the rope that had anchored the vessel to shore for the past few months, then joined you aboard on the middle seat with him. You each picked up an oar and began to paddle your way out to the middle of the lake.

"How far out are we goin'?" you inquired, "Am I allowed to ask?"

"We're going out far enough— just enough to be in the middle of it all..."

Every so often during the journey on the water, you'd make eye contact with each other, and Tommy would bashfully look away to focus on paddling ahead. It was like he was being shy— or even proud. To you, he seemed as if he were acting shy because he was feeling proud. It made you wonder just exactly what he could've been proud of at the moment.

When you finally seemed a considerable distance from the shoreline, he held up a hand to save his breath, telling you to stop your rowing.

"That's good," he huffed, "Right here. It's perfect."

"Oh thank god—" you didn't need to be told twice; you were just happy the physical labor was over. Wiping sweat off your forehead, you panted to him, "Why did you tell me to bring a coat, again?"

"I just thought you might get cold—" he shook his head while he put his oar up on the stand and caught his breath, "I didn't think this through much..."

You scoffed and put your head in your hands, getting as much laughter out as you could, "Because that's exactly what I wanna hear after my boyfriend lures me to the middle of a lake-!"

Tommy didn't have the breath to laugh, but the sound his voice made was reminiscent of laughter. He leaned forward in the same manner you had— with his hair draping in front of him and his muscles going limp in order to relax from the rowing.

Once he caught his breath, he straightened himself up and began to speak with an air of formality.

"Okay," he got up from the middle seat, and took a seat in front of you at the bow of the boat. He held up one hand as the other touched the drawstrings wrapped around his opposite shoulder, "I wasn't planning on showing you this just yet— but the timing was too perfect."

His eyes seemed to light up as they looked around the surrounding scenery. The sky was far from clear, but the periwinkle clouds and the golden sunlight beaming through them created a sight for his sore eyes, no less. The water of the lake was calm after the nasty weather from earlier in the day, allowing the limited colors of the sky to reflect in it. Gentle sounds of the water moving and the birds singing were all you could hear in the tranquil silence. The evening air had a chill to it, but the sunset was warm and aimed at both of you.

All of this, along with the sight of you there in front of him, Tommy realized his afternoon dream had come true very quickly. Furthermore, his impromptu plan was near-perfect; there was just one last part that was missing from it.

"Close your eyes." he snapped his attention back to the moment at hand once he realized he had frozen while admiring the nature around him.

With a sigh, you decided not to gripe with him, and obeyed his command instead. 

"And no peeking, you hear?" you didn't need to see him to know that he sternly pointed a finger at you.

"Alright!" you giggled and shut your eyes tighter. 

After a slight hesitation, you heard Tommy take the bag off of his back. You could hear him opening it, taking the singular object out, and fiddling with it. Somehow, none of these sounds were quite enough to give away what the mystery item was.

As you listened for more auditory clues, there came silence from across the boat.

You giggled at him, "What are you doing?"

More empty air followed your question, and you considered prematurely opening your eyes- that is, until you heard the delicate strum of a stringed instrument.

"Okay," Tommy finally spoke at last, "Open."

When you lifted your eyelids, you were greeted with the sight of a mandolin draped across your darling boyfriend's chest. He held it in his hands as if he were ready to play it, but instead chose to stare at you with a calm expression of satisfaction.

The initial display of him made you chuckle, as you were so used to seeing him with big, heavy electric guitars. The juxtaposition caught you at first, but in that split second it took you to giggle, you suddenly realized it seemed to suit him so well. 

"A mandolin?" you gave him a tilt of your head, "How long have you had that? Is that the surprise?"

Tommy simply shook his head— his gentle smile aimed at only you.

He strummed only once, and before you knew it, he began to play.

The second his fingers began to coordinate on the strings, you weren't sure what level of skill you were in for. Right away, however, you could both hear and see Tommy's expertise— just like you could with any other instrument he played.

It turned out that Tommy had been taking your advice, after all; he'd been trying a new instrument like you suggested. This was clearly evident, as the rhythm he kept with his high-pitched chords was strong and unbreakable.

Despite this, the song felt so delicate and soft— almost like a folk tune.

"Take me back to my boat on the river," Tommy began to sing, "I need to go down, need to come down..."

It took you slightly by surprise when he began to sing, as you weren't expecting him to do so. 

With his ever-so-smooth serenading voice, however, everything was suddenly perfect. 

How could one man become even more angelic than previously believed? The sunlight in his radiant hair, the setting on the water, and the gentle tune he strummed instantly gave you the impression that he might have looked otherworldly to an innocent bystander.

You were well aware of this, however; you knew very well of Tommy's magic power.

"Take me back to my boat on the river, and I won't cry out anymore."

A portion of your heart sank, while another part of it fluttered. Your eyes met at this point in his song, and somehow, he just knew that you understood everything. He fought back a grin creeping up on his lips as he looked back down to focus on his playing.

"Time stands still as I gaze in her water- which eases me down, touching me gently— with the waters that float past my boat on the river... so I don't cry out anymore."

His head lifted up, and his voice subtly grew in volume and projection, as if he were singing to the water around you both, "Oh, the river is wise... the river, it touches my life like the waves on the sand..."

When he cooed the next line of the verse, he made sure to look at you that time.

"And all roads lead to tranquility base, where the frown on my face disappears..."

The toothy smile he'd been fighting finally won him over when he saw the proud look on your face in reaction to his song. Right then and there, was the happiest you'd seen him in weeks. He was exactly where he was supposed to be, and doing exactly what he was born to do. 

Tommy's eyes darted away from you again, and he felt himself flush up in the face at his own coyness. 

His strumming turned to plucking for a few seconds, then started back up again as his soothing voice continued to sing, "Take me down to my boat on the river, and I won't cry out anymore..."

He wasn't exactly sure why he was being so bashful all of a sudden; perhaps it was because he had been so insatiably blue, and was now showing proof that all your advice to him was right all along. That, and seeing you bop your head and flutter your fingers on your leg to the rhythm was enough reassurance to make Tommy's heart soar with confidence.

While his intention was to make you proud, it embarrassed him ever so slightly to see that it had worked.

Your vision squared in on him now playing his little solo, paying attention to how this new tool was no match for his usual precision and mastery. He hummed quietly over the music he played, slowly nodding his head and tapping his foot along with it. While you did not know the song in the slightest, you couldn't help but feel an urge to sing or hum along with him.

For the whole month, he had been dulled, dimmed, and even drained. Now, there seemed be something glowing about Tommy that you couldn't quite place. It wasn't just the distant remnants of the sunset, either; it was something within him that you noticed. It was as if the golden hair on his head finally matched the energy that was flowing from his heart.

After a moment, your own heart began to soar at the realization; Tommy had gotten his shine back.

When he began to sing again, he closed his eyes and smiled to himself. 

"Oh the river is deep— the river, it touches my life like the waves on the sand..."

His eyes met yours again as if he were informing you of his tale, "All roads lead to tranquility base, where the frown on my face disappears, whoa..."

And yes, the song was perfect for Tommy. It had been perfect all along; he just did not realize it until now.

"Take me down to my boat on the river, I need to go down— won't you let me go down?"

Something had been missing, he believed— and he was correct. What was missing, however, was not within the song itself.

"Take me back to my boat on the river, and I won't cry out anymore..."

The only things he changed about the song were its audience and its venue— and suddenly, everything felt complete again.

"And I won't cry out anymore..."

What was missing this whole time— was you.

"And I won't cry out anymore...!"

He pushed his voice out loudly and clearly, filling the space of the boat and beyond. His strumming quickened as he did this, until he suddenly made himself stop completely. 

Tommy's song ended on a happy note, and he confidently held his playing position once it had finished.

He was smiling down at his mandolin for a few seconds in silence, then said very quietly under his breath, "Yeah... that'll work."

He then lifted his eyes and sheepishly beamed at you, silently awaiting your reaction.

"Oh, Tommy..." you were nearly speechless with joy, "Why didn't you tell me you finished a song?"

"I didn't know it was finished until just now," he chuckled, sounding slightly embarrassed yet impressed with himself.

He averted his gaze for a moment and grinned down at his instrument. When his giggles fell silent, he hesitated before asking, "So what do you think of it?"

You scoffed in disbelief with a few claps of your hands, laughing at what felt like such a humorous and unnecessary question. 

"What do I think? I think it's beautiful, of course!"

"Are you sure?" his eyebrows scrunched together with uncertainty.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, "I've just been frustrated with it for a few days. It's been bugging the hell out of me and I wasn't sure if it was done... because it just didn't feel right overall."

You saw a glimmer in his eyes as the remainder of the sunset struck his face. His focus shifted to the scenery around you, and he instantly seemed to become lost in a trance.

"But I had this dream just now— this almost heavenly kind of dream— where I was playing it out here on the boat just as it is, and it sounded so..."

He struggled to find the words as a breeze blew through his hair. Swiping the locks out of his face, he finished his thought, "Whatever it was, I knew I just had to play it out here on the water to be sure."

"Well I don't know what you were so uncertain about; it sounded perfect to me, which is no surprise there."

Tommy cracked the tiniest of smiles, looking down at the water, "Yeah, but I knew you had to be the first one to hear it, too. It was only fitting that my boat buddy be the first to hear my little boat song."

Your flustered giggles came out against your will. Every little thing Tommy did always seemed to have the power to make you smile, and every song he produced was always your favorite.

He added onto his last sentence, "That, and I think it might've only sounded right in the dream because you were there on the boat with me."

"Are you trying to woo me?" you teased him, "You seem to be succeeding in that area right now."

Tommy laughed out loud, rocking the boat slightly and strumming his instrument a few times with glee.

He happily admitted, "I'm saying you were right, okay! You were right about everything— that I needed to try something new, forget about being under pressure, remember the 'lights' in my life and all that happy stuff."

"Ah, of course I was right," you sarcastically told him, looking away as you felt yourself flush, "And speaking of lights, what happened to that other song you were writing?"

Tommy looked baffled for a quick moment, then blinked in realization.

"Oh— you saw that one?"

"You weren't as secretive as you thought you were being."

"That one's nowhere near done," he waved his hand to the side, "It's a bit of a mess. I think it's too soft to be a JY thing, so I might run it by Dennis first."

There was no hiding your pride now; you couldn't take your smile away from him if you tried. Seeing him there in front of you with the aftermath of a sunset on his golden hair, talking about what made him happy the most in life while holding his instrument of choice— he felt back to normal. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment, you knew he'd be better than alright very soon.

"What?" Tommy looked completely clueless at the opposite end of the boat.

You didn't break your smile for a second when you answered him, "I just love seeing you happy."

Tommy's body visibly relaxed, and his gaze softened into a bittersweet smile of his own. He slightly rose to his feet, enough to keep his knees bent as he took a step to the middle of the boat. He reached his hands out and cupped your face gently. You could feel his thankfulness and relief when he kissed you slowly, just as you could feel the warmth of his lips contrast with the cold breeze that was blowing.

He pulled back, still holding your face, and quietly spoke, "Thank you."

Another toothy smile of his appeared as he dropped his hands and sat back down. With his mandolin back in his hold, Tommy began to play the tune again. This time, however, he began to teach you the words so you could sing along with him just as you had in his dream. 

All was as it should be; music was in the air, and joy was in your hearts. Though it was barely noticeable in the atmosphere, it was clear to both of you that springtime had finally arrived at last.

-----

Boat On the River- Tommy live solo performance (1980)

[silverslipstream]

a wise bloke once said, or maybe he didn't, etc.

The best thing about having the same Google Drive since 2014 is being able to read all your old stories.

The worst thing about having the same Google Drive since 2014 is being able to read all your old stories.

[sailordiamondkitty]

If any of my followers would be interested, I've committed a Professor Layton one-shot story.

Do take a look if you want, I won't bite 😁

[theclearblue]

Ok this paper isn't happening time to honk shoo mimimimi

[redhead-reporter]

º ✧ 。the ULTIMATE sign that you've won mj's trust? she shares her GPS location with you.