[You asked for it, Dave. If you're going to dismantle one of his childhood faves, you're grabbing the bull by its horns, and that bull is the treasure trove of absolutely shitty puns that he could drop at any moment.
He pushes his lips to the side and bunches up his cheek when Dave admits to him being embarrassing. He knows he is. He said he is. It didn't have to be a spoken affirmation.]
I have a sensitive stomach, okay?
[Which is kind of ridiculous since he lived off a diet of konbeni and fast food fixes; the lap of luxury that's precisely provided by a single mom who worked two jobs and was rarely home long enough to cook dinner for the both of them. At least he learned some basic cooking skills out of the deal. He's not (totally) useless.
And to get out of this vicious cycle of Disney-esque ditties, he presses play down on a rock song from his home language- Clock Strikes by One Ok Rock.]
I uh... get what you mean. Sometimes the opposite's true though, too. There are songs you just can't listen to anymore 'cause it reminds you of times that you don't wanna remember... [He's not about to ruin the mood here, but generally speaking, it was nice to listen to music to drown out the sounds of his father screaming at his mother. There were just some things he couldn't listen to anymore because he wasn't in that state of being any longer and looking back, it's not comforting as much as it was just sad. But he won't delete those songs from his library either.]
But. Yeah. It's kinda cool. You make a little house for all these good things you attach to the stuff that makes you feel good. Something you can decorate just by yourself and live in for a while when you're down and surround yourself in good vibes.
[Yeah, they're absolutely on the same page with that.]
no subject
[You asked for it, Dave. If you're going to dismantle one of his childhood faves, you're grabbing the bull by its horns, and that bull is the treasure trove of absolutely shitty puns that he could drop at any moment.
He pushes his lips to the side and bunches up his cheek when Dave admits to him being embarrassing. He knows he is. He said he is. It didn't have to be a spoken affirmation.]
I have a sensitive stomach, okay?
[Which is kind of ridiculous since he lived off a diet of konbeni and fast food fixes; the lap of luxury that's precisely provided by a single mom who worked two jobs and was rarely home long enough to cook dinner for the both of them. At least he learned some basic cooking skills out of the deal. He's not (totally) useless.
And to get out of this vicious cycle of Disney-esque ditties, he presses play down on a rock song from his home language- Clock Strikes by One Ok Rock.]
I uh... get what you mean. Sometimes the opposite's true though, too. There are songs you just can't listen to anymore 'cause it reminds you of times that you don't wanna remember... [He's not about to ruin the mood here, but generally speaking, it was nice to listen to music to drown out the sounds of his father screaming at his mother. There were just some things he couldn't listen to anymore because he wasn't in that state of being any longer and looking back, it's not comforting as much as it was just sad. But he won't delete those songs from his library either.]
But. Yeah. It's kinda cool. You make a little house for all these good things you attach to the stuff that makes you feel good. Something you can decorate just by yourself and live in for a while when you're down and surround yourself in good vibes.
[Yeah, they're absolutely on the same page with that.]