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lavender-long-stories · 10 months

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Writing Advice: Getting Words on a Page

With the 75k word count in November and 90k in August, I have been asked questions like how do I keep focus and what do I do when I get stuck. I am going to compile all the advice I have.

Over the last few years, I have posted 700k+ words of fan fiction and have been posting 3 to 6 chapters every week for the last ten months. This is not how to make your writing better. This is how to get words on a page.

This is not all my original ideas. This is just a collection of things that have worked for me.

I am not sure I am the person to tell you how to make your writing better, but if people want my thoughts on that. I can make that post too.

When inspiration strikes, write like wild.

If you have the time and you are bitten by the writing bug, keep writing anything while you are in peak form. You will thank yourself later when you feel like you can’t write everything. I have done the extreme version of this where I have a month (four chapters) written ahead of almost everything on my post schedule (you don’t need this), but this was really nice after I brunt out after finishing out the 90k challenge I destroyed myself with in August.

Write in little pockets of time.

You don’t need to sit down and write for two hours. Write 100 words here and 500 there. It will all add up. When I was struggling at the end of the 75k, I would just open a doc every few hours and write half a page until I got distracted and tried again later.

Change your font.

If you are struggling to edit or even just find yourself drifting while writing, change your font. It helps trick your brain into paying attention. (I like doing a mono font like Courier when I need writing vibes. It looks typewriter-y)

Take a shower.

Not just for shower thoughts, being clean and fresh helps with focus

Get dressed.

I love being comfy, but something about getting dressed makes me feel like I am working and should finish my task. Extra points for it being fun. (Maybe cosplay a pirate or something.)

Move Locations.

Desk, kitchen table, bed, outside: changing location helps move you out of a brain rut.

Handwrite notes.

I take most of my notes on notion, but when I am struggling with my plot, I write out notes by hand, starting with what happened last and continuing from there, writing even things I know will happen. Then I transfer this to my digital notes so they are easier to move around in order, AND a lot of time, I add details when revising them to digital. Double power.

Always, always write down your thoughts and keep them.

Some of my most popular stories came from me rediscovering a 2 am thought that I wrote down six years ago. Keep a notepad next to the bed if you have to.

Change POV

If something is not working in a scene, maybe it is who you have reacting to it. Try switching POV. It helps you think of the scene from another perspective.

Watch a show in your genre.

I watch a lot of the silliest KDrama’s and get lots of romance ideas. Maybe I didn’t think of sending my character to a park or trapping them in a sky lift. Maybe I should add a stalker that sounds fun.

Take your bathroom breaks.

You should always drink lots of fluids and remember to take your bathroom breaks because the brief moment of walking away always gives me an idea.

Skim through the story and make notes on what HAS happened, not just what will happen.

This helps more with my style of having next to no plot outline. Need your next plot point and don’t know where to go? Remember that time they did x? Let’s build off that. This helps intertwine the plot without losing things.

Just read the story back.

You don’t always need to make notes, but sometimes just reading from the beginning can make you pick up on a detail that was unimportant at the time, and you may not even have meant to put in that could have a lot more meaning now. Then, you can call it clever foreshadowing.

Explain your problem or the scene you are struggling with out loud.

It doesn’t have to be to someone. It could be a glass of water. This is called ‘rubber ducking. It’s a programmer term (hello, that is my day job). Restructuring your problem in a way you have to articulate it most of the time makes the solution come to you.

Try focusing on the scenery.

If you can’t get a scene to work open with the weather or how the floor is creaking under step, give the world a new feeling. How does the person feel about the weather or the temperature of the room?

Can’t figure out what is wrong? Rewrite the chapter from scratch.

Open a new doc and rewrite the chapter from memory. I do this a lot in the beginning of a story that didn’t quite hit the way I wanted it to. I will start the chapter from memory and skim the old one to ensure I didn’t miss anything important. Can’t do it from memory? Read a paragraph and write that from memory.

Take a left turn.

Sometimes, if you can’t go any further, go back a sentence, a paragraph, a scene, a chapter, and just make a different decision. Turn left instead of right. Change how someone reacts to an argument. It opens a whole new lane to go down.

Excited for a scene that is in the future?

Write it! You don’t have to use it word for word in the future. Sometimes, you can copy and paste it in, and sometimes, you can just rewrite it, and you lose none of those thoughts you originally had. Writing it might remind you of something that needs to happen first to help you get there.

Have more than one story you are working on.

I don’t think you need to be working on four+ stories like I do, but having something to switch to when your brain really isn’t feeling your main is a great way to keep you writing. Call it productive procrastination. This is the REAL reason I have so many stories uploading. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

Other Somewhat Related Advice

Context Switching

I work on multiple projects at a time, and I tend not to mix them up because they have a different vibe to me. It feels like stepping into each world. If you are struggling with context switching between stories, I suggest finding a song or making a playlist that gives you that story’s ‘vibe’ and keeping a link to it in your writing folder or snagging a section of your story that captures the vibe you are going for and keeping it off to the side to reread when you need to switch.

Don’t edit the same day you write.

You’re not going to catch errors. Your brain is too familiar with what you wrote. Also, I recommend Grammarly or another grammar checker for all your missing comma and period needs. (Word, Docs, and any other text editor simply won't bully you enough.)

If you hate editing, don’t leave yourself with a painful amount of editing.

When people ask me how I edit my work, how many passes I take, etc, I tend to disappoint them. The short answer is one read-through (after using a grammar checker). I learned a LONG time ago that as much as it would be nice to write a bunch of dialog and then tell yourself you will go back to add all the actions or write without quotes because it takes time, you will save yourself a lot of time and pain if you learn to write it correctly the first time and then editing won’t be as much of a chore. I have been writing for years, and I am used to how I write and edit. If you are newer to writing, give it another pass or two, but try to shift some of that work to the writing process, not the editing process.

Make yourself an editing cheat sheet.

Make yourself a doc or a notion of words you notice you use too much or common words you misspell when writing. I usually make one when I get back and do a post edit (when the story has been up for a while and I get back with fresh eyes and edit it). Reading through your old work and find things that you don’t like or don’t want to do anymore is a great way to build this list and improve your writing.

Now go write.

Got any advice for me? Reblog and tell me.

#writing problems #writing #writing tips #writers block #writing advice #writer #writing community #writeblr

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cottonraincoat · 8 months

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making of monday: the stressed student's guide to binge writing a one-shot

(not that I'm a very good writer, but I loved seeing these on the dash, and decided to join. all this is only a little tongue-in-cheek.)

step one: try to work on an irl assignment*

(* not fandom related at all. preferably an intellectually challenging task that is also time-sensitive and reasonably important.)

There's nothing like the looming dread of deadline that stimulates the mind! Combine the perfectionist's fear of beginning, the procrastinator's tendency to distraction, and the pressure on the brain to produce something— for the most bizarre results. Namely, mildly unhinged fic ideas. Just sit down (curl up into a ball in the corner of the room), relax (stress), and wait for inspiration to come!

step two: "just, uh, just to note this down for later"

You never know when the idea would come, but it does. Now, you've got a seed, that your brain has instantly latched onto. It's growing and blooming and taking over every thought. "damn it," you think, "this is a fun idea. I can't write it before I finish the assignment though!" But the idea doesn't let you go, it's like a haunting, which is in all honesty very rude. Well, what can you do.

You open a doc.

Within half an hour, you realize that you should have known better than believing the idea (tm) would leave you alone.

step three: give in. you're writing the fic instead.

Congratulations! Your brain has once again chosen the path of least resistance instead of what you should be doing. But there's no time for guilt when you have to finish the fic (and finish the assignment after that). So you're writing the fic like your life depends on it, and the words come surprisingly easy because given the baseline stress, you aren't overthinking every single word or ridiculously lines of narrative. It's been hours, your mind's afloat, and you (unfortunately) forget approximately every duty to your body. But it's fun and you swear you've never written like this in your life.

From time to time you swap back to the page where your assignment stares helplessly back at you. You blink. You drop it back under the metaphorical rock.

step four: "fuck, the deadline is in [x] hours. I can't do this anymore"

By now, the first draft is probably sitting there in a messy, wonderful glop. And depending on the circumstance, it's either [start editing now, future rain can deal with this shit] or [despite all evidence to the contrary I actually do not want to fail this degree. time to pull myself by the hair into doing the Thing]. Either way, you've maybe slept for 6 of the last 40 hours, and you're contemplating the strange quality of your vision and why you can hear the inside of a conch at the back of your head, etc etc.

step five: sleep, and spare a moment to pause and wonder what the fuck is your life

when the assignment is done, it's like someone's poked a hole in your sand balloon and your entire being sags. it's a nice feeling, kind of. the fic stops you from spending too much time wondering why the hell are you doing the degree at all.

time to turn the glop into coherence! this is the most time consuming part, and could take up to days after the initial burst of [stuff].

step six: edit until your eyeballs fall out

what it says ^

step seven: when you finally cannot stand another minute of re-reading and editing, throw it onto ao3, and hopefully never think about the fic ever again.

that's a lie. you'll be checking the ao3 stats approximately every two hours for the next two days at least.

fics that actually happened like this:

Infinite Joy (the one that started it all)

Designation (in which I forgot Plo Koon had a mask)

on not sleeping with your students

(the first chapter of) the prophecies spoke of you and I

family line

#making of monday #shitposting

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cepmurphy · 2 years

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Goncharov, the comics

So, everybody’s talking about the Goncharov film but nobody’s talking about the Goncharov Illustrated comic strip in Crisis. That seems wrong.

(cropped cover of Crisis #64)

Now, that wasn’t the first time British comics dealt with Goncharov. The first time was a short-lived strip in 1974 called Goon Charov in Buster (the artist is uncredited). Charov was a Russian heavy who was always trying to take over an Italian family’s pizzeria and you can’t have a scan of it because the dialogue & racial caricatures have note dated well at all. It lasted about ten weeks.

Later, you had 2000AD progs 52-53, for Invasion! – Bill Savage ran into a Volgan mobster called “Chongarov” and decided to save his moll “Kate”, helping her escape on a boat (yes I know that’s Sofia’s thing). A pursuing Chongarov comes a cropper:

(prog 53, “Chongarov Part 2″)

The last Earthforce story of Marvel UK’s Transformers (#290-91), written by Chris Francis, had the Decepticon Icepick go to Earth to bump off the feuding ‘Con leadership. Various scenes reference the film, including Icepick tying Shockwave to a giant chair the same way Ice Pick Joe bumps off Amarro. (Francis also wrote Death’s Head #11, where DH is bodyguard at a pastiche of the “and one for the table” dinner scene – everyone ends up dead)

One of the last photo strips in Girl (for Americans, yes it was really called Girl) in #479 would do a YA version of the Katya/Sofia plot, Sophie’s War, where plucky young Sophie falls in with a mobster’s daughter and both end up escaping with Sophie’s brother on a boat.

Now, why was a girl’s comic in 1990 doing a Goncharov knockoff? Because in early 1990, Channel 4 showed the full uncut version of the film for the first time in the UK – the BBFC had taken exception to some of Joe’s scenes – and it had been a big hit. Channel 4 repeated it three times. A new generation of Brits got into the film and pirate videos proliferated.

And in 1990, Crisis – a comic aimed at older readers and often going for political works – needed to boost its sales something fierce. Sales had never fully stabilised after the first few issues and they kept going down fast, while the strips were often very inconsistent. So why not license Goncharov and get in on that reflected coolness?

The result was the eight-part Goncharov Illustrated written by Keef Ripley and drawn by John Burns. Delays in getting the rights meant it didn’t come out in October 1991, starting in Crisis #64. Fleetway really, really hoped this would save the comic and, well, it didn’t. In fact, the cost of licensing it killed Crisis off early! Parts 6-8 had to be all bundled into the final all-Goncharov issue.

Does the comic work? Well, film purists were very vocal at the time and for years after that it did not. Angry letters poured into the office and into fanzines. A key problem was that you can’t really adapt a three-hour film into eight six-page parts without some extensive editing and that meant a lot of scenes had to be dropped. What readers saw were the strips Keef Ripley felt were the most important ones in the film. Most controversial among his choices were:

A) The entire opening of the film is gone. Part 1 opens in an adaptation of the ’Anchovies’ scene with a lot of captions added.

B) It removes the ambiguity of whether or not Luglio really does use his own daughter as a human shield against Goncharov, deciding “yes”.

C) It downplays most of the homoeroticism.

Now, the first two choices are subjective: you need to cut something and what makes for a good beat in a film may not in a comic. Reducing the subtext between Goncharov & Andrey and Katya & Sofia, on the other hand, guts a large amount of the film’s power. We don’t know if this was an accident of adaptation (a lot of the subtext is based on the actors) or due to it being 1991 & Fleetway got scared. Remember, back in the 90s you’d get some young lads who were fans of the film but said there totally wasn’t anything gay going on (YEAH RIGHT).

Goncharov Illustrated killing off Crisis and then all the fans complaining about it anyway made Goncharov a dirty word around the Fleetway offices. A few of the Crisis alumni on 2000AD would poke at it, with rude references or background jokes. Most bluntly, a Mark Millar Dredd had the Judge beating up “a nerd riot at Goncharov Block!” (emphasis original).

Sorry, I can’t tell you anything about the Tekno Comics Goncharov! miniseries, I don’t have any of those.

#goncharov #british comics

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chromalogue · 1 year

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In which I am a brazen fool

Last week was kind of strenuous. I knew it was going to be.

Monday was a normal day.

Tuesday evening I was supposed to attend a guest lecture put on by a research centre I'd like to join.

Wednesday started with an early lecture by a friend, put on by another research centre I'd like to join, on a topic I'm interested in. Then I had to hop on a bus to the downtown campus for a meeting with an administrative person looking for input from international researchers. Then dinner with the same colleague from that morning's lecture, plus another colleague who I hadn't met yet but who also has similar research interests.

Thursday was an evening reception for international postdocs.

Friday was my 6 AM wakeup and then six solid hours of German class, followed by shopping and laundry.

And then, because last week was special, wretchedly early on Saturday morning was another four hours of German class to make up for the holiday on Good Friday.

So I already knew I was setting myself up for exhaustion and not getting much done. My compromise with my sleep disorder, for which my partner and family roundly mock me, is maintaining a fairly strict bedtime between 2:30 and 3:30, which requires something like military discipline for me, because I have to be really exhausted to be anything like tired at that time. The only way I can manage it is to have near-complete control over my schedule and nothing else at all going on. But it means I get to work around noon at the earliest, eat a wholesome breakfast in the cafeteria, and am in my office from around 12:30-11 or so. So, evening events mean sharply curtailed days, and morning ones mean less sleep. Of course.

And the compromise I've made with my pathologically thorough style of note-taking is that I dictate my notes. This I started in earnest because the electronic lock on my apartment door used to stick and I gave myself a repetitive strain injury always turning the knob, and spent three months in a tensor bandage. I continued with it even after typing stopped hurting, because I usually take about thirty pages of notes per hundred pages I read, and dictating that goes a lot faster than typing, even though Microsoft speech-to-text is hilariously terrible and requires hours of correcting afterwards. So like, one of the things I had to do during these very short workdays was dictate a lot of notes in a very little bit of time.

Well, the Tuesday lecture ended in a trip to a restaurant, where I enjoyed excellent Italian food and hours of good conversation with people from the research centre. On Wednesday, the meeting with the administration was catered, with little bites of things in jars with spoons. I had exactly one hour of rapid-fire dictation before joining my colleagues at the restaurant, where we spent many pleasant hours and I ate my own weight in calamari.

Thursday was more rapid-fire dictation. By this time I was exhausted, and my throat was raw, and no wonder. When I arrived at the reception, a very excellent person asked me how I was doing, and I said that I was astonishingly grumpy for someone with no real problems. She said she hoped I'd feel better as the evening wore on. And then there was my supervisor, and beverages, and I took my mask off and drank apple juice out of a wine glass, and ate and drank and stayed to the end, which I didn't think I was going to be able to manage. And my mood improved, even though I was still tired enough that word-finding was a problem.

We heard some speeches, although the admin person I'd met the day before was supposed to give the keynote, and she was out sick now. At one point I wondered if I should put my mask back on, but I'd been eating and drinking in room with all these people for hours anyway, and I didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable.

On Friday I woke up with my throat even worse, and tried to take a covid test, but the one I'd bought had no liquid in the tube. (Later, I couldn't remember the German for "liquid"; I told the people at the store that the juice was missing.) So I put on an FFP2 mask, which here seems to be the equivalent of an N95, and went to my six hours of class. I tried to minimize the time I spent unmasked. When the window was open, I took advantage of the time to lift my mask a bit and shove in veggie salami and a bit of cheese.

I was feeling next-level tired, and my skin was starting to crawl in the way that a fever does. I picked up the (wrong, it turns out) cleaning disk I'd ordered for the Tassimo I found on the side of the road at the beginning of the month, got a couple more covid tests, and did some grocery shopping. I bought fruit. Like, lots and lots of fruit. Ridiculous amounts. Blueberries, strawberries, grapefruit, passionfruit, grapes, cherries. It looked so good.

The only thing that kept me from melting into a puddle of goo when I got the groceries home was the knowledge that if I didn't get my clothes into the building's washing machine as soon as possible, the person in #5 would put her clothes in. Also probably the dehydration. Laundry takes four hours, and ye gods, I did NOT want to prolong that today.

So I took a covid test--negative--and then grabbed my laundry. I shoved it all in, waited two hours, and went down to put it in the dryer, telling myself, only two more hours until I can put on jammies and curl up. Only the dryer was somehow full of #5's laundry, and had an hour and thirty-eight minutes left on the timer. (And I didn't think the timer went higher than 1:05, which in real time is about 2 hours.) And I thought about waiting whatever vast span of time 1:38 actually represented to be able to even put my laundry in the dryer, not to mention the two hours beyond that. And I took my wet clothes, shuffled to the elevator, and went upstairs. I hung them, quite certain that they would be dry before I was in clothes-wearing condition again.

Then I made myself some nachos, and crashed until about 5:30 in the morning. E-mailed my supervisor that I wouldn't be able to meet. Had my class. Slept some more. Watched Eurovision. (AWESOME with a fever; 10/10 would recommend. Finland was still robbed.)

Sunday I spent sneezing. Watched a film over Zoom.

Monday I woke up and the fever was gone. I felt like I had a bad head cold, but my energy was at about 80%. Back in the Before Times, this would have meant going to work, but it would be bad form now, so I decided I would go to the office after hours and pick up some things to work on.

I took a covid test. It was positive.

So. Then I had to e-mail all the people I was with last week, and warn them. And then I waited until evening, when no one would be in the office. I'd planned to take the bus if I tested negative, but as it was, I just picked the most secluded path to work, with the fewest stairs, and walked. I was masked the whole time I was indoors, and anytime I saw anyone on the street outdoors. I touched as little as I could in the common areas of the building, slathering my hands in sanitizer and opening doors with my elbows. Got my stuff. Got home. Felt better for the walk, frankly.

Normally I stay masked indoors in public (albeit in a surgical mask, the ones they call IIR here), and only unmask to eat and drink, but with all the catered meetings and dinners last week, that still amounted to something like eleven hours I spent unmasked in the presence of others. Last week I was feeling sheepish about staying masked as long as I did in front of them; this week I get to e-mail them all and tell them that I've exposed them to a potentially deadly disease through my carelessness. So far, I haven't heard of anyone getting sick, thank goodness, but I'm still not done.

#pestilence

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

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Sunday 26 November 1837

8 ¾

11 25

fine rather frosty morning? no flags wet and F39° at 9 40 and breakfast – Cookson tells me A- sent word to the Lodge last night there would be no service today at Lightcliffe church! breakfast and at 11 had written 3 pages of ½ sheet note to A- and got wine out of the cellar 1 port 1 marsala and 1 currant to give to Rachel Sharpe cook at Cliff hill for a sick relation – then had George up – wants to go and see his mother for a week about Xmas – said I would not refuse him – thought it would be most convenient to spare him soon than later – note from A- she has sent her baggage and will be back at 2 – Mr. Wilkinson poorly – my note to A- to ask what was the matter and ask her to come home if she could on Georges’ arrival – if not, not to be late in the afternoon – from 11 ½ to near 1 wrote 4 pages of ½ sheet and 1 page and 1 end of envelope to Lady Stuart chit chat – deserved eulogy on lady Stuart de R-‘s taste in landscape gardening – her judgment in it that of an artist – to her random observation often remembered I myself owned more than to any other source of instruction on that subject – know of nothing at present likely to prevent my getting off from here by the end of January – A- returned immediately with George and came in wet about at one – with her while she changed her dress and with her at luncheon and sat talking over it till 2 40 – from then to three and a quarter copied my letter to Lady Stuart – at 3 ¼ in about 40 A- and I read the evening prayers to our 4 women and 2 men in the little south parlour – then sat with A- talking over the fire in her sitting room (north parlour) till 6 – then sealed and sent off my letter to ‘the honourable Lady Stuart Whitehall’ undercover to the ‘The Lord Stuart de Rothesay, Carleton house terrace London’ – meant to have written to Lady S. de R- but prevented will write by and by – dinner at 6 ½ - tea at 8 – A- read French and I (afterwards – bits aloud) the newspaper – long and interesting communication in favor of steam navigation to India – evidence given before the committee of the house of commons – by Lord William Bentinck etc and interesting account of the visit of American Indians at Washington, on the sale of their territory to the United States for 100000 dollars – came upstairs at 10 10 by the kitchen clock – and during the ¼ hour I stopt it, wrote all but the first six lines of today – Rainy windy rough day from about noon – fair and finish day till then

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damisalakowrites · 5 months

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How I Got My Agent

"But don't you already have a publishing deal?" Yes, I do! And for that blog post, visit here!

Now let's get into it...

I started querying this project in January 2024 and received my first offer of representation in April 2024. If you're looking for the query stats and my query letter, scroll to the bottom!

January 9, 2024 - Sent my first batch of queries.

I batch queried. Initially, I focused on querying agents who responded quickly so I could get a feel for the effectiveness of my query package. I received full requests pretty quickly so I knew it was working. After that, I queried as agents opened up and when I had time.

March 6, 2024 - R&R on a partial manuscript

An agent rejected a partial but gave me a full page of editorial notes and feedback. And it was the most helpful feedback I’ve ever received on a full or partial. I spent six weeks revising and at the end of my revision period, I reached out to everyone who had my full and let them know I’d revised. Depending on how long ago I queried them, I offered to send the updated version or I just went ahead and sent it (with a small note that implied they didn’t have to re-read it if they’d already finished the first MS!). Everyone got back to me to confirm they received the revised MS or thanked me directly for sending it.

Even though the opening pages changed significantly, I didn’t re-query everyone. I only re-queried agents who had my query sitting in their maybe pile. I know, technically I can’t really know if I’m in a maybe pile, but I used my best guess (Query Tracker Premium helped with this).

One of the agents had me in their "maybe" pile for ~3 months. Within 48 hours of re-querying with the updated manuscript, she requested my full. Put a pin in that, I'll come back to this later.

And another week later, one of the agents with my full offered:

Thank you for sending this R&R along, and for your patience while I dove into THE SUN HAS A SHADOW! I was able to finally sit down and really dig into this manuscript over the weekend, and I think it’s absolutely wonderful. Your characters are distinct, there’s so much in this world to explore, and you touch on important themes while keeping the pacing quick and easy to follow—so many things I look for in YA, and fantasy in particular. I wanted to reach out and see if you’d accepted an offer of representation elsewhere, or if you’re still seeking an agent for your work? If THE SUN HAS A SHADOW is still available, I would love to set up a phone call to chat further about it with you, and about possible representation with [REDACTED]! I can’t wait to see your book out in the world, and I look forward to hearing back from you soon!

Post-Offer Timeline

Things went by quickly after that.

I got my offer email on 4/23/24. Two days later, I was having The Call with the agent and the founder of the agency. The phone call went so well and it was clear that they both understood this book and the story I was trying to tell. Having both of them on the phone call also was an opportunity to see how the agency as a whole works - and not just the agent. They never interrupted or spoke over each other and knowing that I wouldn't just have the agent’s support, but the agency’s was more impactful than I’d anticipated. I also knew I wanted an agent who was more editorial - someone who could push me to create the best version of my story. Yes, they loved and gushed on my story and it was clear that they were just as passionate about it as I am. But I wanted to work with an agent who could help me make it even better.

When the call ended, I knew I’d be more than happy to work with with that agent. But of course, it was time to do my due diligence and send out those "notification of offer" emails and messages.

By the time I received my offer, I had 2 partials and 10 full manuscripts out in the world. When I sent my offer of rep notifications, four agents with my full stepped aside due to the time constraint. I’ll be honest - two of those step-asides stung. They were with "dream agents" - but like I said earlier, after my call, I knew I’d be more than happy to work with the offering agent. Many other agents with my queries stepped aside too, simply because they wouldn't be able to make my deadline. And seven agents requested my full after nudging them with my offer (most of them weren't able to read the manuscript before deadline, though).

I received multiple offers (stats at the bottom). And while I was so grateful, I also found my anxiety rising. Every single agent I spoke with was excellent, and I would have been happy to work with any of them. There were no glaring red flags, I spoke with current clients, and I did my whisper network research. All of the agents who offered were incredible and blew me away.

So how exactly was I supposed to choose?

Answer: Follow your gut.

The Agent

Remember that agent that had my query for 3 months? And then I re-queried with my revised MS and she requested my full in 48 hours?

She offered.

And our phone call went really well! Conversation flowed, her editorial vision and her enthusiasm was everything I hoped for in an agent and it was clear that she knew the genres she represented well. At the end of the phone call, I immediately texted my husband and told him, "I think I found my agent."

I had a few other offer calls in the coming days and again, those calls went extremely well, too. But two weeks after my first offer, I emailed Dorian Maffei and signed with her.

And I'm beyond excited to get started.

Query Stats & Query Letter

Queries Sent: 96 CNRs (closed no response): 3 Rejections: 79 Partials: 6 Fulls: 21 (14 before offer of rep + 7 additional requests after notification of offer/nudge) Offers: 5 offers and 1 R&R Total Time Querying: 105 days (~4 months)

Some additional notes about these stats:

I withdrew 26 pending queries the day before I signed with my agent. Queries were withdrawn because I hadn't heard back before deadline (so similar in concept to CNRs).

By the time I got an offer, I had 10 fulls and 2 partials out. Both agents with my partial stepped aside post-offer.

All 7 of the agents who requested my manuscript post-offer either passed, stepped aside, or CNR'd.

My Query Letter

Dear [AGENT]

In Ibana, dragon-riders devour the Nightmares that lurk in the shadows of night while phoenix-riders herald the rise of the Sun every morning. But five years ago, the queen killed her family, usurped the throne, and ordered the genocide of all phoenix-riders.

No-one has seen the Sun since then.

Despite the never-ending night and the Nightmares that skulk between the cities, 18-year-old Babatunji makes a living delivering messages and cargo, braving the Shadow-lands alone. But his life of quiet isolation is ripped out from under him when he finds himself indebted to a dangerous dragon-rider. Desperate and out of options, he reluctantly agrees to the first job that comes his way: escort Layo, one of the last phoenix-rider descendants, to the other side of the country. But after Baba and Layo survive an assassination attempt ordered by the queen, Layo confesses her true purpose: she is in possession of the last three phoenix eggs, and she’s been tasked with safely delivering them to a hideout on the other side of the monster-stricken country. Her success would mean the return of the Sun, the return of the phoenix-riders, and a means to finally end the queen’s dark reign.

Baba and Layo escape ambushes and face the Nightmares that lurk in the night while the queen and her dragon-rider army nip at their heels. As Baba and Layo’s alliance blossoms into something more, Baba comes to terms with a terrifying realization: the key to Layo’s success is also Baba's greatest secret. It’s a secret he’s buried in shame, loneliness, and laudanum. But if they have any chance of saving their world from this endless night, Baba will have to confront his shame and expose the darkest parts of himself. Doing so could cost him his life but worst of all, it could confirm what he always suspected: that he was never deserving of redemption in the first place.

BEASTS MADE OF NIGHT by Tochi Onyebuchi meets SKYHUNTER by Marie Lu in “THE SUN HAS A SHADOW,” a high-stakes fantasy about re-discovering one’s agency, and how the threads of guilt, depression, and addiction create a tapestry of isolation and shame. It is complete at 78,000 words and set in a fictional world that is culturally inspired by the Igbo and Yoruba tribes of Nigeria (#ownvoices). It will appeal to fans of slow burn romance and shadow-magic. Despite its darker themes, it will leave readers feeling hopeful about these characters, their journeys, and themselves.

[BIO PARAGRAPH]

Thank you for your time and consideration.

#creative writing #publishing #querying #on writing #am querying #writing #ya fantasy #writers on tumblr #book writing

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mrsdawg4908 · 2 years

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Eddie Van Halen

January 26, 1955 – October 6, 2020

Edward Lodewijk Van Halen was born in Amsterdam on January 26, 1955, the son of Jan van Halen and Eugenia (née van Beers). His father was a Dutch jazz pianist, clarinettist, and saxophonist, while his mother was an Indo (Eurasian) woman from Rangkasbitung on the island of Java in the Dutch East Indies. The family eventually settled in Nijmegen, Netherlands.

After experiencing mistreatment for their mixed-race relationship in the 1950s, the parents moved the family to the U.S. in 1962. They settled near other family members in Pasadena, California, where Eddie and his brother Alex attended a segregated elementary school. Since the boys did not speak English as a first language, they were considered "minority" students and experienced bullying by white students. They began learning the piano at age six,[8][9] commuting from Pasadena to San Pedro to study with an elderly piano teacher, Stasys Kalvaitis.

Van Halen was never taught to read music; instead, he watched recitals of Bach or Mozart and improvised. Between 1964 and 1967, he won first place in the annual piano competition at Long Beach City College. His parents wanted the boys to be classical pianists, but Van Halen gravitated towards rock music, and was greatly influenced by British Invasion bands like The Beatles and The Dave Clark Five. Consequently, when Alex began playing the guitar, Eddie bought a drum kit; however, after he heard Alex's performance of the Surfaris' drum solo in the song "Wipe Out", he gave Alex the drums and began learning the electric guitar. According to him, as a teen he often practiced while walking around at home with his guitar strapped on, or sitting in his room for hours with the door locked.

Eddie and Alex formed their first band with three other boys, called themselves The Broken Combs, and performed at lunchtime at Hamilton Elementary School in Pasadena when he was in the fourth grade. He later cited this performance as key to his desire to become a professional musician. He described supergroup Cream's "I'm So Glad" on the album Goodbye as "mind-blowing". He once claimed that he had learned almost all of Eric Clapton's solos in the band Cream note for note. "I've always said Eric Clapton was my main influence," he said, "but Jimmy Page was actually more the way I am, in a reckless-abandon kind of way."

Eddie and his brother Alex formed the band Mammoth in 1972. Two years later, David Lee Roth joined Mammoth as lead singer and Mammoth officially changed its name to Van Halen and became a staple of the Los Angeles music scene, playing at well-known clubs like the Whisky a Go Go.

At a 1976 concert at The Starwood in California, the band opened for UFO. Kiss bassist Gene Simmons saw the performance, and said, "I was waiting backstage by the third song." He asked the band about their plans, and they said, "There is a yogurt manufacturer that is going to invest in us." Gene begged them not to go that route and invited them to record some demos at Electric Lady Studios in Greenwich Village in New York City. Gene then signed them to his company and the band recorded early demos of their songs, including "Runnin' with the Devil". Excited about the band, Gene approached Kiss manager Bill Aucoin and Kiss frontman Paul Stanley about them, but they dismissed his desire to sign them to Aucoin's management fold. Stanley later said he "rejected Van Halen to protect Kiss", and that they made an effort to make Gene drop the band to "keep Gene in check". The discouraging words caused Gene to rip up the contract, and he “let them go” after feeling he may have held the band back.

The next year, Warner Records offered Van Halen a recording contract.

His first guitar, purchased as a child from Sears and Roebuck, was a Teisco Del Ray. He played the guitar in his elementary school band, The Broken Combs.

Van Halen was an inveterate tinkerer, and played many custom-built and heavily modified guitars, especially early in his career. Upon embarking on his professional music career, he purchased a Gibson Les Paul, for which he replaced the original P90 pickup on the bridge with a humbucker in order to sound like Eric Clapton. He later bought and briefly used a Gibson ES-335, also because of its association with Clapton, though he damaged the body while modifying it and it later became canibalized for parts on numerous other home-build guitar projects. He also owned an Ibanez Destroyer that was used extensively on the debut Van Halen album. Originally used in its natural wood finish, he later painted it white and made several modifications to the electronics. After recording the album, he used a chainsaw to drastically modify the body shape, cutting a deep V into the bottom of the guitar, and painting it in a similar way to his later, more famous, Frankenstrat. Inset into the V, he hand carved teeth and set two eyehooks and chains; the new distinctive shape led to it being nicknamed "The Shark". He only played it for a short time in this state, however, as the modifications changed the tone of the guitar in an unsatisfactory way; he did retain the guitar for the rest of his life, remaining in his collection until his death. The final state of the Shark can be seen on the cover of Women and Children First, where he posed with the guitar.

He is most associated with the Frankenstrat, a custom guitar he built from parts. The maple neck cost $80, while the ash body was bought for $50 as the wood had a knot in it. The tremolo arm was originally taken from a 1958 Fender Stratocaster, and was later replaced with a Floyd Rose arm. He frequently replaced the neck on the guitar, going through a number of different ones through the years, and the pickup configuration was also frequently changed. In its most commonly used configuration, the guitar had a single functional pickup, a Gibson PAF (patent applied for) bridge pickup from his ES-335, which he enclosed with paraffin wax to prevent feedback. The middle pickup was removed and in its place he had stuffed a non-functional selector switch and random wires, while the neck pickup slot was replaced with a red single-coil pickup, that was also non-functional. The original selector switches and tone knobs were removed, and the volume knob was replaced with a knob labeled "TONE". The Frankenstrat, as shown on the cover of Van Halen I, was originally painted black, but was recoated with Schwinn red bicycle paint in 1979.

Before and during the recording of Van Halen II, he built a second "partscaster" guitar painted in a distinctive black-and-yellow striped paint job that earned it the moniker "The Bumblebee Guitar". That guitar was later donated to Rita Haney, the longtime partner of Dimebag Darrell Abbott, shortly after his death; it was placed in his casket and buried along with him.

Eddie Van Halen used a mini-Les Paul guitar for "Little Guitars" (Diver Down). This is the only Van Halen recording that the guitar was used for. The mini-Les Paul was made by Nashville luthier David Petschulat and was pitched and sold to him during a tour stop in Nashville, Tennessee. He later purchased a second mini-LP guitar, built to slightly different specs, the first being a honey-sunburst with mini-humbuckers, and the second being dark wine-red with a thicker body and full-size humbuckers. In 1982, Van Halen made his first guitar endorsement by launching the 5150 Baretta model with Kramer. This partnership lasted a decade. In the mid 1980s, he purchased a Steinberger GL2T guitar. Its distinctive switch-operated vibrato system can be heard on the 5150 album. In 1991, Van Halen began working with Ernie Ball / Music Man, developing the Music Man EVH model guitar — a partnership that lasted until 1995. In 1996, Van Halen teamed up with Peavey, where they developed the Peavey EVH Wolfgang; this relationship lasted until 2004, when Van Halen joined forces with Fender, initially releasing the Edward-endorsed Art Series guitars under Fender's Charvel brand and later developing the EVH brand. In 2006, Fender created the "Frank 2", a near-perfect production replica of the original Frankenstrat; Van Halen later claimed that when presented the two guitars in a blind comparison, he had some trouble picking out the original home-made guitar from Fender's production replica.

For Van Halen's 2012 tour, and early 2015 television appearances, he used a Wolfgang USA guitar with a black finish and ebony fretboard. For the 2015 tour, he used a white Wolfgang USA guitar designed by Chip Ellis, featuring a custom kill switch.

Van Halen used a variety of pickups, including 1970s Mighty Mites, which were made by Seymour Duncan and were copies of DiMarzio Super Distortion pickups. He also used Gibson PAFs, one of which was rewound by Seymour Duncan in 1978.

In an interview with Guitar World in 1985, Van Halen stated that his guitar sound style which he called "brown sound" is "...basically a tone, a feeling that I'm always working at ... It comes from the person. If the person doesn't even know what that type of tone I'm talking about is, they can't really work towards it, can they?"

Van Halen's first string endorsement deal happened around 1989 when Ernie Ball launched the 5150 EVH line of guitar strings. The gauge of the strings differed slightly from typical electric guitar strings at the time, which were 9, 11, 16, 24, 32 and 42 (in thousandths of an inch) - the EVH Ernie Ball strings measured 9, 11, 15, 24, 32 and 40. After this endorsement deal ended, guitar strings became part of the Fender EVH line and are now sold as EVH Premium Strings.

In 1993, Van Halen collaborated with Peavey Electronics to develop a series of amplifiers and cabinets, collectively called the 5150 series, which ended in 2004. Van Halen then began work with Fender, developing the EVH products and brand.

Van Halen was awarded three patents related to guitars: a folding prop to support a guitar in a flat position, a tension-adjusting tailpiece, and an ornamental design for a headstock.

In February 2017, Van Halen donated 75 guitars from his personal collection to The Mr. Holland's Opus Foundation, a program that provides musical instruments to students in low-income schools. At the 2020 Billboard Music Awards, Eddie Van Halen was honored by several former musicians he worked with. Jack White from The White Stripes, G. E. Smith, Charlie Benante from Anthrax, and Dierks Bentley gave speeches as a tribute to his career. Wolfgang Van Halen also shared several personal photos between him and his father. On October 10, 2020, Saturday Night Live paid tribute by playing a clip of him performing with G. E. Smith from a February 1987 show, which was hosted by Valerie Bertinelli. In 2020, the Pasadena Library, located in Pasadena, California, offered several archives and documents related to Eddie Van Halen. The collection included several albums, along with photographs by Neil Zlozower, and several CDs. The library also uploaded Van Halen's albums to Hoopla.

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strawberryspence · 3 years

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A Dinner and A Future

Fluff | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer just wants your first date to be perfect and surprisingly, it goes really well.

Word Count: 3,7k.

Warnings: some cursing, first date nerves, but that's it. just pure mindless fluff.

Writer’s Note: Hello! I've been going through a writing dry spell and the thing that solved it was writing this. I've been seeing a lot of edits on tiktok about Spencer's traumas and I just wanted to give him something simple and happy. I was also listening to Kodaline on repeat while reading this, so yeah it's going be hella sappy. Enjoy! <3

Gif is mine. Lesley Smith-Juniment, you have my heart.

Spencer is nervous.

Wait no, scratch that, nervous is not good enough. He was brimming to the edge with worry and queasiness. What other synonyms does nervous have? Spencer was antsy, anxious, perturbed, uneasy, at this point he can recite the whole thesaurus.

Spencer closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe. He can do this. He has waited for this for a long time and he won’t waste it because of burnt pasta.

Okay, he looks back at the note that David Rossi himself wrote in his own special handwriting.

1. Cook 1 pound pasta until Al Dente. Boy Genius, Al Dente should be firm when bitten. You cook it on a boiling water with salt and oil. SALT AND OIL.

2. While that’s cooking, do nothing. LITERALLY DO NOTHING. Watch it. Do the sauce later. In some miraculous way, if you don’t watch the pasta you’ll burn it.

A grin spreads across Spencer’s face as he puts down the paper and reaches for the fettuccine pasta and dropping it on the boiling water (which he measured with measuring cups he borrowed from JJ)

“Okay, now I wait for it to boil.” Spencer stares at the pasta as it cooks. Did he buy enough parmesan cheese? or enough pecorino cheese? Oh no. He looks over the other side of his counter where all the (complete) ingredients sit and he sighs in relief as if he hasn’t checked it 15 times since he started.

The pasta was still cooking and isn’t going to be firm anytime soon. Spencer ponders if he should just cook the sauce while waiting but he knows he’s going to mess it up if he doesn’t give it his undivided attention.

He looks at the watch on his wrist as it ticks to 5:21. He has one hour, thirty nine minutes and forty six seconds. He still has time before the date. The date with you.

It took him nine months, Derek and Emily annoying him to death to just ask the pretty librarian out, one extensive background research from Penelope, two separate talks of the “You deserve to be happy” advice from JJ and Hotch and one lecture about marriage from Rossi to finally ask you out.

He’s kinda annoyed really because he spent so much time thinking about you and thinking of the perfect way to ask you out but he shows up at the library you work at one day with a cup of coffee in hand and his heart on the other.

You didn’t even hesitate. There was no pause to process what he asked, there was no questions following the embarrassing stumbling of the words, “W-will you go have d-dinner with me? L-like a date... Date?” You immediately said yes with a small hop and the biggest smile on your face.

This date has to be perfect. He asked you to come to his apartment at 7. Spencer would’ve picked you up but he was making you a home made dinner and the date was taking place on the rooftop of you apartment, which Penelope and Derek helped him decorate with lights.

He tries the pasta and when its finally firm to the bite, he takes this as his queue to read the paper again. Of course, he can remember all of the instructions but Rossi still wrote it down and reading it calms his nerves.

3. If its cooked, drain your pasta water but leave a little pasta water on the side. Then you can continue.

4. In a pan on MEDIUM heat (just around 2-3 on the stove setting) cook one pound diced pancetta and 1 cup chopped onions in olive. Put this down and chop chop!

Spencer puts the paper down as he follows the instructions to drain the pasta. After he was done with it he puts the pan on the stove and starts chopping up the ingredients he needs.

Cooking is strangely calming. He never thought he’d find it calming. He always found himself burning stuff. So he sticks to the microwaveable meals and fast foods, even if he knows the statistics about these kinds of food.

After finishing the chopping he reaches over the paper and reads it again.

5. Are you done? Okay. Put the chopped stuff on the pan with olive oil and cook it until the pancetta is browned and onions are soft.

He immediately follows the instructions written. The onion and pancetta create a silent hiss as it hits the pan. As it cook he looks down again.

6. That’s going to take a while, so leave it but stay by its side. I am giving you permission to do two things at once. Dr. Reid, please be mindful of it.

Spencer rolls his eyes before proceeding to #7.

7. Combine the two cheeses. Then divide it in half. Then pour the half into 4 egg YOLKS. Just yolks! The yellow ones! Then beat it lightly until its really combined.

He has already separated the egg yolks from the whites (a job he didn’t think would be that hard but was surprisingly very hard) before he started cooking. He adds the combination of cheeses to the eggs and lightly beats it as he watches the pan of onions and pancetta sizzle.

When done with the egg and cheese combo, he gives the pan a stir before looking back down.

8. Is the egg done? Yes? Good. Is the pancetta and onion good? Yes? Good.

9. Okay, now you put your pasta in the pancetta pan.

10. REMOVE IT FROM THE HEAT! REMOVE IT!

Spencer follows the instructions to the T. He puts the pasta on the pancetta, gives it a stir and immediately removes it from the heat. He sighs in relief. He hasn’t burned anything yet.

11. You haven’t burned anything yet? I am proud of you.

12. Now, pour the egg mixture into the pan and toss the pasta until coated. TOSS IT GENTLY. If you’re scared use tongs.

13. Pour about 1/4 cup of the pasta water I told you to set aside earlier. You don’t have to pour all 1/4 cup, just until you get the creaminess you want.

Spencer reaches over the nearest tongs. He’s not going to toss anything tonight that involves pastas or pans. He’s taking the safe road because he wants everything to be perfect.

14. Add the rest of your cheese! Toss some more and then add salt and pepper as NEEDED!

15. You can serve it with parsley.

16. Now, go take a shower and change into some cleaner clothes.

17. Just be you and have fun, Spencer. Goodluck! :)

Spencer smiles as he puts the paper down and makes the finals touches to the pasta. He starts doing what was instructed and it surprisingly, ends up in the perfect texture. Just like the one he tasted when Rossi had a pasta night.

He was proud of himself as he takes it off the stove and makes sure that all the stoves are turned off. There was this report he read in 2018, that cooking and leaving the stove open was the leading cause of home fires.

He takes the food, puts it into a fancy tupperware (another thing he borrowed from JJ) and puts it in the microwave. He cleans up a little and stuffs the pans and pots to the dishwasher, because you are coming in his apartment even for a second.

He starts getting himself ready for the date with a shower. As the warm water glides through his body he thinks of how funny life could be.

Spencer first meets you in the library. He has not slept well in weeks so instead he opts to go to the library to get some reading done. But as soon as he sits in one of the (surprisingly) comfortable leather chairs, its as if sleep knocks him out. It wasn’t until the closing time that you wake him up and he thinks that you were an angel sent for him. This elicits a giggle from you.

“I am sorry, I am not an angel. I am just the librarian and we’ve been close for over an hour now. I just didn’t want to wake you up. You looked like you really needed that sleep.” Spencer immediately jumps to his feet as he apologizes profusely to the kind librarian, “Oh, it’s okay! Don’t say sorry. I was also reading so I didn’t mind the peace and quiet.”

That’s how Spencer meets you. He comes back a few days later after a case with coffee, croissant and an apology. You immediately become friends and thats how all of this started. Spencer finds himself falling in love with the kind, gorgeous, clever librarian faster than he expected.

Every week after that, Spencer comes to the library with pastries and coffees for his favourite librarian and every week, you welcome Spencer with a warm smile and a new book for him to read. He can read it in one sitting but he reads it in the slowest pace he could so it can last for a week.

Spencer comes out the shower and stares at his closet. Should he go casual or formal? Casual or formal? Its just dinner, he’s chill and casual is the way. He picks one of the few plaid shirts that he has and puts it on with a white shirt underneath. He tries to brush his hair, it sits for a moment before it starts curling again. He cringes but leaves it be.

Spencer proceeds to the kitchen to start packing the food into a wicker basket (that he also borrowed from JJ, he basically borrowed her whole kitchen). He packs the utensils in a table napkin that comes with the basket. The main course for the date was the carbonara, and the dessert was a tiramisu Penelope made.

He reaches over his sofa where the bouquet of paper flowers are. He made it a few nights ago with Penelope’s help. He stayed up to make more of it with old books he found in the BAU.

Because what kind of flowers is the best flowers for librarians? Origami flowers made with old book pages.

He shouldn’t be nervous. You’ve been friends for all the months that he didn’t have enough courage to ask you out. You’ve taken trips to old bookstores together for book hunting. This shouldn’t be different from your other trips.

The pitter patter of rain against his window takes him out of his thoughts.

“Shit! Is it raining!?” Spencer yelps, before opening the closed curtains. Beads of water runs down his windows and if its any other day he would love it. But not tonight, when he planned a rooftop date. He cringes as he thinks of the fairy lights hanged up and the table set up that is probably soaked now.

“Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Think, Spencer, think.” Spencer thinks fast. He finds the extra table cloth that JJ gave him because “Just in case.” He reminds himself to buy her a bottle of wine as a thank you. He places it in his small kitchen table before taking the utensils out of the basket and placing it on the table in a fancy way.

Candles. Does he have candles? Spencer scrambles around his kitchen, like a chicken without its head, looking for candles and he finds it underneath the kitchen sink. He lights some of it up and props it into some glasses (he doesn’t have a candle holder he realizes after lighting it up).

With the lights dimmed down leaving the light from the window and the light from the candles, his dark apartment gives off a romantic, kind of comfortable, vibes. It was kind of perfect because with the books on his shelves and the lighting, it actually has the same vibes a library gives off.

He was ready now, bouquet of paper flowers in hand. He can’t believe how smooth things are going, minus the damn rain. Only thing that’s missing is you.

A knock comes to the door and he instantly opens it. There you were, hair a bit wet and messed up from the rain.

His future was bundled up in a cozy cardigan and a pair of jeans right in front of his eyes and he didn’t even know it.

“Hi.” Spencer smiles.

“Hi.” You smile.

“A little to the right. No. No. Too much right, now give it a little bit to the left.” You sigh, your hand under your chin, “No, no, baby, its crooked.”

“Love, can we do this later? The pancetta is going to burn.” Spencer laughs as he climbs down the ladder with the frame.

“But you said you’ll help me with putting up the frames!” You pout at him, Spencer chuckles before kissing your nose, “I know but you also asked for my famous carbonara and I can’t do both at the same time.”

“Hmmm. I still don’t think you can call it yours when its originally Dave’s.” You follow him to the kitchen, zigzagging through the boxes of books you’ve both barely opened.

“What he doesn’t know, won’t kill him.” He winks at you before giving the pancetta and onions a stir.

“It already smells good, love.” You snake your arms through his waist and lean your head on his back. Spencer lets go of the spatula and spins around to face you.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Go unbox some of the books and I’ll call you when its cooked so we can fix the frames. Okay?” Spencer kisses the top of your head and lets you go.

You walk out of the kitchen to the hallway full of boxes full of books. You chuckle as you open the nearest box and its just full of chemistry books. You push it to the room where Luke, Derek and Spencer has built shelves for all of your books. An olive green couch sits in the corner beside the built in fireplace.

Hmmm. This is your home library but as a former librarian the dewey decimal is calling you. But then again, the books you and Spencer have doesn’t have classifications on them. You began unpacking the chemistry books and placing it on the shelf. You can hear the distinct hiss of the pan and Spencer humming Kodaline’s The One.

You push in another box from the hallway to the room and its another one of Spencer’s, this one full of philosophy books. You start unpacking it to the shelf below the chemistry books before stopping as you pull out a book that doesn't belong with the philosophy books. A smile graces your face as your hands glides unto it. It was the book Spencer bought for you on your first anniversary.

The Peter Pan cover is a bit tattered, it was an older edition he found in your favorite old bookstore. You open the book and Spencer’s messy writing greets you with nostalgia.

“We are most alive when we are in love. Thank you for making me feel alive everyday for the past year. Happy Anniversary, love. I live a full life as I love you fully.”

You smile at the book before hugging it to your chest. You sigh deeply as you looked around the room and how it felt so surreal to be in the new home you share with Spencer.

“Love, I am finish. Come meet me in the hallway!” You leave the book on the shelf as you hear Spencer calling you.

“Are you helping me with the frames?” You clap, excited to finally put up the frames. Spencer smiles as he sees you excited to put up the pictures.

“Yes, okay you need to tell me if they’re straight okay?” He instructs before climbing the ladder.

“To the right, just a bit. Oh! Perfect!” You scramble to reach for another frame as he comes down the ladder to move it, “Here! This one.” He climbs again and you instruct him with directions for the frame again.

After a few more frames, he finally comes down and looks at the frames you asked to be put up.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Spencer smiles down at you and gives your cheek a kiss as he wraps his hands around your waist, “It is. Thank you for framing them.”

The frames comes in different shapes and forms, the biggest one in the middle is the picture of your wedding day. Your wedding took place in a library you immediately fell in love with when looking for places to get married at.

In the picture, you were smiling, your head rested on Spencer's shoulder as he reads a Harry Potter book he found in the kids section. It was a candid moment, both of you running to the back of the shelves to get a moment to yourselves after the wedding and the photographer snapped it before leaving the two of you in peace.

Beside it are pictures with the team on the wedding day, some on thanksgiving, christmas, new year with the BAU team, some with your family, some with Diana and in the corner is a shadow box containing the paper bouquet that Spencer gave you on your first date, the same exact flowers that was in your hands as you walk down the aisle to him.

“So, how's the first six months of officially being a Reid-Y/L/N?” Spencer teases as he lets you go from the back hug to face you and you roll your eyes at him, “Oh very hard. They hear Reid and they immediately expect greatness.”

Spencer laughs, “Same as the last name Y/L/N.” This time your the one who laughs at his statement, “Uhhh. I am not the one with 3 PhDs and 3 BAs.”

“And I am not the one whose a New York Times best selling author.” Spencer laughs even more when he sees your nose crinkles, making his heart dance and swell in glee.

“Hey, let’s dance.” He takes your arms and leaves it on his shoulders as he wraps his arms on your waist.

“We don’t have music, you silly goofy boy.” Spencer rolls his eyes at the endearment used, “I’ll sing.” He hushes you down.

“You make my heart feel like it's summer when the rain is pouring down.” Spencer’s singing voice was soft and sweet in the edges. Most nights you lull him to sleep with your humming to keep the monsters at bay and some days, his better days, he’s the one who sings and these were the days you treasure the most.

“You make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong, that's how I know you are the one... That’s how I know you are the one.” He sways you to the gentle buzz of his voice. You close your eyes as he sings the same song he sings to your ears on the dance floor for you first dance as a married couple.

“When we are together, you make me feel like my mind is free and my dreams are reachable hmmm.” Spencer hums as he runs his hands on your back. Your head on his chest and your ear listening to the way his heart is beating for you.

“You know I never ever believed in love, I believed one day that you would come along and free me.” Spencer feels at ease as he sways and sings, knowing that he’ll have you in his arms for the rest of his life.

The song ends but you and Spencer continue to sway to the music of silence.

“Can you believe its been 4 years since our first date?” Spencer asks, in disbelief of how fast time is running when he’s with you. You pull away from his chest so you can face him. You find a small spark in Spencer’s eyes as he thinks fondly of the night.

“Really? 4 years since our first date got rained on and Penelope cried because we broke all her fairy lights?” Spencer laughs before protesting, “Hey! I paid for that!”

"4 years later and I still can't get enough of that damn carbonara." Spence cackles, like an evil villain, "Don't tell Rossi that I stole his recipe for my beautiful partner."

"4 years later and I am still completely in love with you." Spencer smiles as he leans down to place a small kiss on your temple.

"4 years since I almost completely lost my mind because I was so nervous about our date." You roll your eyes, "Love, our first date was perfect. We've had this debate how many times now?"

"19 times." Spencer answers and you pinch his nose before looking around the room that’s still full of unopened boxes, “See. We should probably eat lunch and unpack. Why do we even have so many boxes of books?”

“Honey, you were a librarian and you are a writer. I am a professor and FBI agent that can read 20,000 words per minute.” Spencer answers as he looks around the unpacked house.

You smile fondly at him before standing on your tiptoes a bit to reach him and give him a kiss and he immediately steadies you with his hands. Kissing you was intoxicating and Spencer loves every bit of it. You only pull away when the kiss finally takes away your breathe.

“I love you, Spence.” You smile as you hold his face in your hands, “I love you more, sweetheart.” He smiles at you as you untangle yourself from him.

“Let’s eat your famous carbonara and unpack the rest of our house. It doesn’t really feel like home when all we can see is boxes.” You giggle before dragging him to the kitchen, making Spencer sit on the island as you prepare the pasta he cooked. Spencer watches you as you sing and dance through the kitchen in one of his old cardigans.

He doesn’t say anything but you were wrong. Home is not four walls with unpacked boxes and hundreds of books.

Home was when you showed up bundled in a cardigan, wet from the rain for your first date with him and home is still you, four years later, bundled up in his old cardigans and singing songs that magically fills and heals the crevices of his heart.

the recipe i copied for the famous carbonara!

taglist (if you want to be added, please message me 🥰): @all-tings-diego @shemarmooresfedora @averyhotchner @samuel-de-champagne-problems @bingereid

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achillieus · 4 years

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

quick note: i wrote this back in 2018 after meeting sebastian in greece but i redited it now, so if you see any mistakes or typos please tell me :)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

part: 2/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

It’s Monday when they come back from their small trip to the south. You’re watering the jasmine in your balcony when you hear the engine of Argyris’ car slowly shut down and see two figures getting out of the back seats.

It’s him and a blonde woman. You remember meeting her that night in the terrace. You’ve learnt that she’s a great actress and will play the other main character in the film.

When she notices you looking at them, she waves.

“Hey, Sebastian it’s your friend there.” She gives his shoulder a soft nudge.

We’re not friends. That’s what you almost yell back at her.

His head shots up, smiling.

He’s always smiling. It’s getting annoying.

You can see him going through his bag as he calls your name.

“Look, I brought you some traditional sweets.” He’s holding a small wrapped up package. He starts wiggling it in the air.

He looks so jolly and proud of himself. It makes your throat dry.

And before you can control it, you laugh. You can’t see it from where you’re standing but he bites his bottom lip at the sound.

Two hours later he’s sitting in your kitchen devouring half of the pastries he got you.

“These are actually so good, how can you not like them?” He says and it comes out all garbled. His mouth is full of sugary dough.

You do like them. But he does too. And you can find them anytime you want here. You doubt it’s the same in New York.

“They’re just not my favorite,” he nods “but thank you anyway.”

“Well let’s say you owe me,” you furrow your brows in confusion “and will repay me by sending me some of those once I’m gone.”

He laughs before taking another bite.

And as you stare at him, you notice that he’s different. His gaze is tranquil, his voice is soft and he has some cream at the corner of his lips.

Like that, he looks more like a guy you met at college than a well known actor.

Like that, we could be friends, you think.

You talk a lot. He tells you about his time in Romania and his first audition. It makes you realize you are far more interested in acting than what you thought. You tell him how you think team Iron Man is the superior team. He gasps, as if he is hurt.

He doesn’t mention his girlfriend. You don’t ask about her. It’s easier for both of you this way.

A stifling heat rises to your body as you walk under the burning sun. You don’t realize how Argyris gets you to give Sebastian a tour around the city, but you can remember a pair of light eyes pleading you.

You can easily hear him humming to himself. You turn to look at him. He’s wearing a hat and his forehead is sweating. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re in a very good mood today.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well I’m stuck with you for the day so what choice do I have?” You shrug.

He makes a face at you. You crack and a huge smile forms in your face.

He leans closer, mouth to ear and then he speaks.

“You know, I can’t tell if you hate me or just like me too much.”

His breath hits your cheek.

You try not to blink at the sudden foreign touch.

His words find your skin and they’re so clear and powerful. Suddenly you’re an open page to him.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest and waits for an answer, a nod, a glance.

You are still standing close, the city sounds doing nothing to ease the heated silence between you two.

He realizes you’re not going to give him any response so he lowers his eyes.

And then, when he looks up again, it almost feels like he gives you mercy and agrees to let you get away with it this time.

He smiles.

“So where is Acropolis?”

When he’s lying on your couch after six hours of being a tourist and under the summer sun he looks exhausted. Still he’s his typical talkative self.

“You are always so pumped.”

“And you rarely are.”

“Doesn’t it get tiring?” you ask each other at the same time. It seems like you are two different sides of the exact same coin. One body. One heart.

“Today was nice.” He stretches his arms. “Thank you.”

You open the window. There is barely any wind out there. The air smells of hot cement and flowers.

The man on your couch has closed his eyes, breathing softly.

You try to ignore him over and over for the last days. Until you cannot ignore him anymore; your world has come to an end.

So many people know who Sebastian Stan is.

Only few will ever know him like this; falling asleep on a cheap brown couch with his hair messy, his chest rising and falling and his mind empty of thoughts.

These are photographs of your memories now.

An involuntary smile spreads across your face at the thought.

You see him swift and his hand clenches tightly around a throw pillow.

“Stop looking at me like that you creep,” he says.

“Come closer,” he means.

The sun is long gone and he’s still asleep when there’s a knock on your door. It’s Argyris.

“Please tell me he’s here.”

You nod and motion towards Sebastian’s drifted away body.

“When I left you this morning, I didn’t actually think you’d last this long together.” He tells you the moment he sees him.

The words fall out of his mouth too easily for your liking. “But I should have known better.”

You don’t understand much. You take a step out of your door. You don’t want to wake him up.

“Do you know how many times he mentioned you while we were away?’

Everything stops and falls quiet in the hall.

The words choke you. You shake your head.

“I need you to be smarter than him.” He says and touches your shoulder. “His world moves too fast for people like us.”

It’s effortless not to look at the man in front of you. It’s hard not to shallow his saying.

He wakes up an hour later. He looks at you and it feels sacred. His eyes are still red and the pillow has left a mark on his left cheek.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep here.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it was rude, you should have yelled at me to wake up or something.”

“But you looked tired.”

You carry on with doing the dishes and you hear the couch squeak as he stands up and steps towards you.

The water is refreshingly cold on your skin and the soap smells like lemon.

His hands find your waist and his touch is burning. You wish he disappears. You wish he stays for the night. You don’t even know what you’re wishing for anymore. He comes closer and rests his head on top of yours.

And then he wraps his arms around you and you get flashes of days and nights where there was not enough air for you to breath and your ribs ached.

His action is not so noble. It feels like his body steals all the rationality you have. But it gives you this feeling that there will be no more starless skies at night. And that’s enough for now, so you don’t complain.

His skin feels soft and he smells of sweat and vanilla. Somehow you find that alluring.

He looks at you for a second, like he’s trying to memorize your face. And then he pulls away completely silent.

You try to understand what he’s thinking but he gives nothing away. You were never good at reading people.

You blink and he’s almost out of your apartment.

“Goodnight” he shouts.

“Goodnight” you whisper.

You close the window. You wonder how he will spend the night. He probably won’t sleep soon. He just woke up.

But you can’t sleep either. You just move around in your bed. You sink into the sheets and try to close your eyes.

Your phone buzzes.

He follows you on Instagram.

I need you to be smarter than him.

You go through his profile. You want to think he’s doing the same. You want him to do the same.

His world moves too fast for people like us.

You sigh. Perhaps there could have been a time when you would have stayed away from him, but you can’t pretend to ignore it for much longer. And you’re scared of it. And you’re scared of him.

But you’re more scared of how hard it’s for loneliness to fade. And you wish this doesn’t end like a greek tragedy.

One day of the following week you go out for coffee. The curly haired woman comes with you. You don’t understand why. And while you’re adding more sugar to your espresso, she tells him she loves his acting. She uses all kinds of adjectives to describe it; hopeful and poignant, celestial.

You like the way she talks. She sounds beautiful. You almost envy her abundance of words.

But Sebastian stops listening.

He watches the way your fingers wrap around the sugar box. He can see your nerves and your synapses move underneath your skin and he thinks he’s watching a dance show.

He will never tell you, but it’s then; under the morning sun and with sugar in your hands, that he feels his heart beat with the power of cymbals for the first time.

He thinks you don’t have to know.

He’s wrong.

You learn the girl is an actress herself. They’ll be in the movie together. They look stellar together.

Looking at them, gives you a violent feeling that wrenches your stomach around.

You can’t hate her for that. You feel like it’s more your fault than hers. That feeling however, grabs you by the shoulders and doesn’t let go. You try not to let it show.

But for some reason when Sebastian almost touches your palm, you look at her and you’re certain this is entirely mutual.

You make a silent agreement to not include him in any of this.

“You were extremely quiet earlier.” He says as you reach the building you call home.

He wants to spend time together until his scheduled shooting. You don’t complain.

“You always say that.” You try to joke. He looks right at you.

And then you notice that his eyes aren’t the color of the sea. They’re more grayish blue. They’re like a frozen lake in December.

“I know,” he starts messing with his hair “But you can’t deny you barely talked back there.”

When you enter your apartment, he immediately throws himself on your couch. These last few days it feels like he owns that right spot there in front of your big window.

“I’ve told you, I talk when I have something to say.”

He smiles at your words.

“Then I must be lucky you talk to me.” He whispers softly.

You sit next to him. If you move a little closer you could touch him, feel his warmth. You don’t.

You never thought of how easy it has become to talk to him. You don’t keep your thoughts locked and your teeth clenched around him. And that’s a novice feeling for you.

You let your eyelids fall close and lay back.

There’s a language between you two. It starts with secret glances and whispers and now it contains words that build and ruin bodies and souls.

Sometimes you want to say them all together. Sometimes you just want to open your mouth and let everything flow out but then you’re scared you’ll make him mad. Or you’ll make him love you.

You can’t decide which is worse and that’s enough to stop you.

“What is this thing between us?” He sounds all tender-like, but his blood feels heavy at the moment. He’s not sure if he can keep breathing. He regrets the words that leave his lips, when it’s already too late.

You have the answer figured out long time before he asks. But you’re not ready to give it to him.

“I don’t know” you open your eyes “I don’t know.” You repeat.

He doesn’t tell anyone but sometimes he feels nauseous before a shooting. You can clearly see that now. His pacing up and down the room and his roaming eyes give him away.

You are surprised. You never thought he could be nervous. He looks so confident and radiant all the time; you sometimes forget he is still a regular human being.

“You have no reason to worry.” His lips twitch.

“I know.”

“But you still worry.” You grin and catch his arm to stop him from moving.

The look he gives you is acute.

“You have no reason to be sad,” he starts, without breaking eye contact “but you still are.”

You feel naked and hug yourself close.

It’s very strange to have someone scratch everything from you and see your raw truth. You’re not certain it’s something you enjoy. You wish it didn’t make you quiver.

Sebastian wishes he could scratch deeper under your dermis and your fingernails and slither there between your muscles and your heart where blood runs thick and melancholy hasn’t conquered yet.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head.

“You didn’t say anything hurtful.”

You worry your words may come out bitter. You don’t want that.

“It won’t last forever.” he says and then your name appears in his tongue. You like the way he says it. It almost sounds like poetry. “You won’t be sad forever.”

You smile and, in that moment, you aren’t a worldwide known celebrity and a girl in her early twenties. You are just two people seeking comfort.

The same night there’s a party for the first day of shooting. You don’t feel like going, but he doesn’t let you stay home.

What did you do last night?

Went to a party with Sebastian Stan, typical Thursday night.

You can picture the look on everyone’s face. It makes your lips turn upward just a little.

“I told you to be careful.” The voice sounds almost far away but your neighbor is standing right next to you as he mutters.

“I am.” You say with a laugh. He crosses his arms.

“No, you are here, watching him starry-eyed.”

Your fingers start playing with the rough fabric of your dress.

“I don’t know how to stop it.” You whisper.

He tells you to not entail yourself in something you don’t know the way out of. But what does he know about solitude and rushed breaths?

What does he know about a pair of eyes that look like a frozen lake?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

He’s watching you from afar while you talk with Argyris. He notices how your chest moves along with your breathing in a way it looks like it’s made of pure glass.

For a while he thinks of staying there and keep observing you but then Argyris leaves and you’re all alone. And he starts walking closer to you.

All eyes are on him as he goes through the main dance floor. The curly haired actress stops moving to the beat and follows him with her gaze.

They both reach you.

And you know he’s moving towards you before you can see him. It’s like your body is aware of his presence madly fast.

His eyes seem darker under the hazy light.

He grabs your hand.

You almost heave.

“Let’s get out of here.” He breaths.

You walk for some time. It’s late and Athens is quiet around that time. There is only a soft broken sound of cars and you think about that time you saw a car crash happen in front of your eyes.

You sit close in an old dirty staircase in a forgotten back alley. The city has a lot of those, but people don’t notice. They just walk past them, always in a hurry.

Sebastian sighs heavily. He looks at you in a way it makes you think he’s trying to memorize everything. The way midnight air caresses your body, the way red lighting falls in your hair from that street lamp. He looks at you for an indefinite and long period of time and it feels exquisite.

You place your fingers on his palm and the world flickers. He’s still wearing the rings they gave him for the movie and they feel cold against your skin.

“Do you ever miss Romania?”

The question startles him.

“Every day.”

You nod. Maybe he knows more about sorrow than you give him credit for.

“I remember the dog fence and our neighbors’ daughter and the orange sky through my window, minutes before sun set.”

Your hand locks around his and you stay silent for a while.

“This is the Lyra constellation.” His eyes light up as he looks up.

You remember reading about how much he’s into space. It’s intriguing.

“Where?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead he picks it up and guides it with his own. His body moves closer. There’s no cold in the air.

As your eyes search for the stars that your hands point at, he watches you and he’s certain that one day he’d love to lay on his back, with you on his side and show you all the little dead planets in the sky. Show you the secrets of the universe.

And he feels like this is the type of beauty that musicians try to write songs about.

“Ah!” Your grip becomes tighter and you smile. “I can see it!”

He laughs at your childish enthusiasm.

You laugh too.

And then you let your head fall on his shoulder, your hair touching his bare skin. You don’t blame them for making him wear sleeveless shirts for the film.

You can him feel shudder at your sudden motion, but then he exhales and his muscles relax.

He observes the features of your face from this angle. He almost traces them with his fingers.

“They’re probably going to kill me for stealing you away from the party.” You whisper.

“I think I was the one who grabbed your hand and left.” He laughs again and you can feel his chest pounding.

His phone buzzes. He doesn’t look at it. He closes his eyes.

“Δείξε μου όλα τα αστέρια. ”

He doesn’t understand a word but your voice sounds too close. You feel too close. And that’s almost tearing him apart.

“What does that mean?”

You turn to look at him. The neon sign on the old building behind him keeps trembling.

“It means, show me the stars.”

And he does. And he feels like he could burn alive.

And you will never tell him; but you still think of him when you catch a glimpse of burning stars.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :)

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #monday the movie #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #letyoudown

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losingitinjersey · 3 years

Photo

Ever spend the last 12 days intending to blog every day and then never finding the time to do so? Yup, that’s where I’ve been at. Straight up in survival mode over here.

My MIL left on Monday and while my days since have been spent constantly putting out fires managing two crying children (often at the same time), I’m oh so flipping happy to be on my own again :) I understand that it’s important for family to come and visit and get to know their grandchildren. While I’m happy we all had that time together I’m glad to now have the time to figure out life as a family of four without an extra person in the house.

Kevin started a new rotation that has him gone six days a week from 4 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. (or later) so all he has time to do is come home and sleep. Poor guy :( I went from having both him and either my mom or MIL home all the time to now doing everything alone. It’s a lot but I’m surviving!

Here’s a rundown of some of the highlights from the last 12 days.

Aug passed her hearing test! Woooo!

Thanks to the MIL here, Kevin and I were able to go (BY OURSELVES) out to dinner, out to brunch, on several walks, and two grocery shopping dates! Such a dreeaaammm!

My MIL strongly dislikes/is scared of my cat, Saki. As such, on one of the days I was gone at appointments with Aug for six hours she didn’t let him downstairs. Due to this he pooped in my bedroom on the carpet :( To my MIL’s credit, she thought he had a litterbox upstairs, but no. That’s why I’m always letting him down and opening up the bathroom with the litterbox in it for him all the time. Pay attention, woman.

While we’re on the MIL rant, I’ll keep going with two more stories.

I’ve put Erp to sleep every night of her life except for when I was at the hospital delivering Aug. We have a bedtime routine that I look forward to every day and one that I find to be an intimate experience that only we share. One night that I’m putting her down, I come out to find the kitchen and dining room still a mess with Kevin and his mom sitting on the couch (she has Aug in her arms so she gets a pass). But I’m frustrated and start to clean. At one point I look up to ask if MIL can turn on the monitor (that I know was turned off before I went in to start bedtime) and I see she’s looking at it watching Erp. I ask her if that means she watched us while we were in there. She replied that she had. I reply, “Great.” Drop what I’m washing in the sink and run upstairs slamming the door shut behind me. I go to pump and cool off. I come downstairs 40 minutes later to tell her I overreacted but also that I felt she had invaded our privacy. She tells me, through tears, that it reminded her of her time with Kevin when he was a baby. I get it, but still. Kevin said had he known she was watching he would have told her to stop since I made it VERY clear to him early on in Erp’s life that I don’t like being watched on the monitor when I’m in there with her. I guess I should have told her about my preference in advance but I never thought I’d need to spell it out like that.

For the last week she was here, she had Chicago Med on the TV constantly, at relatively loud volume. Please note that we never ever ever have the TV on at our house unless we’re actively watching something, and if that happens it’s 99% of the time just me watching and I do it for an hour at night when everyone is asleep. If we need background noise, music is playing. She would just sit on the couch and watch her show talking about gunshots, premature birth, and whatever kind of medical drama while my kids are running around. I’m sorry, but I thought you were here to connect with your grandkids? So while she sat on the couch, I would engage and play with Erp for hours. Cool cool cool.

Please note that despite all this she’s a lovely woman and a great grandmother and mother and MIL. I came into her visit already dreading more company, and I’m sure I’m still surging with hormones from the pregnancy (right? or am I just this way always now?). All this to say that I was not begging her to stay and getting used to taking care of both kids on my own wasn’t that hard since I’d basically been doing it during her entire visit.

Okay, let’s take a breather and talk about other things.

Do you remember the 21st night of September? I DO because my 6 week old slept 12 straight hours! GLORIOUS.

After finishing listening to Billy Summers (loved it!) I decided to undertake Stephen King’s hefty novel, The Stand. I’d been scared to attempt it ever since I read 100 pages of it in 9th grade before deciding to pick it up again later. I guess 23 years later did the trick because I’m thoroughly enjoying it! I’ve learned that audiobooks are the only way I can get through any material lately. It makes me want to go out on walks and take drives so I can listen to MoAr! I’m already 10 hours into the 48 hour novel. Although, I gotta say, it certainly feels strange to read about a deadly pandemic (written in 1978) during this current pandemic.

After two months since I initially contacted the nearby school/daycare, I finally followed up to get Erp on a waitlist. There are six kids ahead of her. We took a tour on Friday and I want her to get in so so badly, hopefully before we move in June! It would be such a great place for her to socialize and learn!

If any of the above isn’t telling, my hormones are all over the place. I know this because my face has decided to rage in all the redness and acne. So fun!

Thanks to getting my house back, I’ve been able to establish a routine for us which includes going on stroller walks every day with the girls! We’ve already made it over 37 miles this month! Loving the outside time and knowing I’m working hard at my weight loss efforts.

Despite being on maternity leave, this past Friday I was invited to participate in an EA (virtual) offsite with my team at work! It was great to be able to see everyone again! At the end we participated in a cooking class where they mailed me a box of all the ingredients to cook a NY Strip Steak and Corn Succotash! Deeeelicious!

Given Erp’s increasing interest and ability at walking, I attempted a walk with her the other day, sans stroller! I wore Aug in a wrap on my chest and held Erp’s hand as we walked around the neighborhood. We walked a good 1/4 of a mile! Everything was fine until we made it back to our walkway and she refused to climb up the step to head back inside. Like, laid flat on the ground refusal. Since Aug was on me I couldn’t really just grab Erp and muscle her back inside. She wouldn’t listen to any request of mine to go inside so we had a power struggle of what felt like 15 minutes but I’m sure was closer to 5. She would try to crawl around my feet (into the bushes even to get around me), and any time I tried to lift her up she’d pull herself to the ground crying. Eventually I tucked Aug’s flopping head into the fabric of the wrap so I could lean down and grab my tantruming child and carry her inside. I want to be able to keep up with these excursions but not sure how to do so if she continues to rebel like this. Like, if she did this farther from home we’d be up a creek. Hopefully she’ll improve in time?

OKAY! Hopefully we can now get back to our regularly scheduled blogging so a massive update like this won’t be necessary again :) Thanks for taking time out of your day to catch up with me!

#please don't reblog #momblr #erp is 21 months old #aug is 6 weeks old #fitblr

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floppityalpaca · 3 years

Text

Kiribaku Fic recs Pro hero/Time - skip AU

Post #2 - Pro - hero/Time - skip Masterlist

HELLLLOOO!!! It’s me again with another fic rec list. When you first start reading there’s always the first bout of canon - compliant post - kamino nightmare fics; they are like the FOUNDATION of krbk fics I think. After that first round I really got into pro hero AU. Personally I’m a big lover of heavy angst, specifically hospital angst and so pro hero AU were usually able to deliver. Without further ado here are some of the great pro hero fics I’ve read!!

!!CW!! This also means that some of these may be explicit (smut), those will be marked with E.

Injury

PTSD

Near death experience

Possibly MCD

Explicit

(note: some of these may overlap with the ones in other lists - the first 3 are already in the classics post)

!!PLEASE ALWAYS READ TAGS!!

The fool’s rush @chonideno - 40k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666944/chapters/31393317

“Because that’s not what friends do” - shared apartment fresh post - grad thats all I’ll say. “They were room-mates” What else is there to say?! Pining idiots with a sprinkling of angst.

Freshly Ground Coffee @arxaris - 19k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21303890/chapters/50731340

slow it down (go easy on me) @newamsterdam - 27k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11738184/chapters/26450931

Broken Bridges @Deathbelle - 68k E

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888358/chapters/34479846

whew this was a big one. pro hero reunion 6 years later. yes they are still pining oml help these people. Beautiful plot, beautiful characterisation and overall great story building with establishing pro hero setting

Harder to Breathe [Series] @ellieb3an - 31k

https://archiveofourown.org/series/724899

Kiri dealing with the PTSD after being struck by a quirk.

What can I say, I love hospital angst although please always read tags!!

Stargazer @maplefudge - 3k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703401

//Wherein every single Christmas, Kirishima and Bakugou queue up for hours to buy food. Bakugou hates it (not really).//

Superrrr cute one shot christmas pro hero.

AHHH maple!! They are one of the first authors I fell in love with starting out, she nails their characterisations and has such diverse writing going from super cute tooth decay fluff to bawling angst. Check it out!

Once more unto the breach @nivo - 5k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9850688

//When life gives you lemons, remind it that you have nitroglycerin. Poor fucker never stood a chance.//

INJURY FIC!!! OF COURSE another fic with hospital angst, lots of feels, found family and overall a great fic!!!

don’t count on me to let you know when @newsamsterdam - 15k E

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10948695

Stay with me @GaHooligangirl - 18k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053621/chapters/55137466

Six Page Spread @indigonow - 85k ongoing E

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978106/chapters/27091083

Be Patient @Deviance - 2k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18529324#main

//Kaminari groaned. “Why are you two like this?” He demanded, pointing at where Bakugou was stretched out over the couch with his feet in Kirishima's lap. “Why don't you just date already?”

Kirishima sighed. “One day, guys. We will one day.”//

SUPER SUPER cute one - shot. I love the characterisation, and I can just see this happening so vividly.

the thing i wanted to say @Ellieb3an - 2k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848223

Bakugo is sick and arrives at Kiri’s apartment after his shift soaked after their last awkward encounter.

This will always have a special place in my heart. I MEAN SICKFIC + pining + dramatic rain + misunderstandings WHAT MORE CAN YOU ASK FOR?! SUPPPERRR CUTE.

Afteraction @dandelyre - 3k E

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591287

//Katsuki leans down and mouths at Eijirou’s neck.

“You almost died on me today,” he growls. “You owe me an apology.”

“S-sorry,” Eijirou says.Katsuki bites down.

“Sorry’s not good enough. You better show me how fucking sorry you are.”Eijirou’s hands fly to his hips, thumbs digging in hard enough to bruise.

“Anything you want.”//

Okay this is mostly smut BUTTTT it’s also emotional stuff tied in AND near death experience like WHATTT that’s right up my lane.

ALWAYS READ TAGS!!

Just in time To Save Life @Obssessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism - 8k E

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761151

This one has a similiar theme to Afteraction but has a bit more plot and goes into more detail of the fight. I really really love this one, it’s super realistic and portrays vulnerability very well and all the other angst emotions. Super good.

Unwaivering @CityEscape4 - 12k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30215208

HOLY MOLY!! One of my favourites yet again, okay maybe like basically this whole list is my fav, BUT this has a special place in my heart. It’s amnesia + hospital angst + near death experience like yallll right up my alley. I think you guys are starting to get the hint exactly what I like ;)

Whatever You Need @Trenchcoatkitten - 13k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33055198/chapters/82052356

Fresh grad, though not yet quite pro heroes yet. A friends to lovers “oh no but I can’t ruin our friendship but you know friends cuddle right? RIGHT?”

You’re only relevant until you get older (they’re gonna talk about me over and over) @futurehearts - 10k

you're only relevant until you get older (they're gonna talk about me over and over) - Chapter 1 - futurehearts - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Cute pro hero 5+1

i don’t wanna think anymore @Dreaming_of_Fairys - 5k E

i don't wanna think anymore - Dreaming_of_Fairys - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Sad baku bad day at work; comfort sex.

This was soooooo good. The raw emotions were displayed SO SO well and it HURT. Defs worth a read.

breaking ground @Qitana - 4k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32307910

Baku in hospital coma, short, sweet and so angsty. A look into the possibilities of what would happen if one of them died considering their risky jobs as heroes.

SPB @writingboom - 10k !!MCD!! ☁☁

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098842/chapters/58009105?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_468061375

HOLY MOLY NDJNFJEWLNQFNLCN THIS IS HANDS DOWN BY FAR THE SADDEST PIECE OF WORK I HAVE EVER READ IN THE HISTORY ON AO3.

Before you go ahead PLEASE READ THE TAGS!!! This is not for the faint hearted I am whole heartedly serious, I am one of those people who can not for the love of me cry even when reading mcd but GUYS I came VERY CLOSE. This is literally 10k of pure pain/angst but for you angst loving people out there like me this is absolutely unforgettable and one of my fav fics just because they delivered the EMOTIONS SO WELL, IT IS NOT EASY TO MAKE ONE CRY! This is absolutely beautiful, stunning, heart - wrenching and I love it so much. If you don’t mind MCD PLEASE give it a read!

GroundRiot’s Biggest Fan @FoolishFortuna - 5k E

GroundRiot's Biggest Fan - FoolishFortuna - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

This was light - hearted and super funny and kind of fourth wall kind of thing going on. Like oh this is him reading fanfic but this IS a fanfic holy cow MY LIFE is fanfic. Something light to read after all this heavy angst :’)

Also is is VERY explicit READ TAGS!!

aaaAAAAAD THATS A WRAP! I’m certain there’s more out there, I’ll have to search for them later. If you’ve noticed, there are a lot re - occurring authors in these recs, A lot of widely known fics are from common authors and the way I got to searching for more fics was usually reading one fic and then going to the author’s page to check out all their other one’s. This is a GREAT way find new fics to read especially if you really liked the one you just read. This is all to say, I will definitely be making a krbk author introduction/most famous works page, look forward to it!!

HAPPY READING!!!

#boku no hero academia #kiribaku fic rec #fic recs #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #archive of our own #ao3 #krbk #happy reading #my hero academia

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snickerl · 3 years

Text

Of Miracle Births and Other Wonders

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

The lady behind the reception desk sends Mulder and the two kids up to the fourth floor of the hospital. They find another reception area with another helpful nurse. She tells them a doctor will be with them very soon to give them an update on Scully's condition. The few minutes they have to wait tears every nerve in Mulder's body, putting his patience to a hard test. Then, to his great relief, a good-looking woman in her late thirties approaches them. "Hello Mr. Scully, my name is Dr. Hanson, I am taking care of your wife," she says, holding her hand out to shake his.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor, but my name is Mulder. These are our children, Emily and William," Mulder says, nudging them both in front of him. "How is Scully? I mean, my wife? How is she?"

"Hello everybody," the doctor says good-naturedly. "Your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Mulder. She is doing great with her breathing technique. Her cervix is at 5 centimeters, so we still have some way to go. The baby is in good shape, she is in good shape, so we believe we will have a smooth delivery in a couple of hours. Are you all coming to the delivery room?"

William is aghast, his eyes saucer-wide. "What? Ew, no way! Gross!" He shakes his head vehemently. "Never ever!"

Mulder looks at his daughter. "Em?"

Emily thinks for a moment but quickly decides against it. The thought of seeing her mother in pain, even if it was for a good cause, makes her uncomfortable. "I'd rather stay with Will. We don't want him sitting here all by himself," she says.

"I don't need a sitter," William snaps, "I'm not a baby."

"But you definitely behave like one," Emily fires back. "Now shut up and be nice so dad can look after mom and doesn't have to worry about us at each other's throats out here."

"Alright," Doctor Hanson says. "The waiting area is over there. There are magazines and a vending machine. If you need anything, ask the nurse at reception. Follow me, Mr. Scully...I mean Mr. Mulder, sorry...your wife will be happy to see you." She leads the way to the delivery room. Mulder presses a kiss on Emily's hair and waves at William who has already plummeted into a chair. "Okay, kids. See you later then," he says and hurries to follow the doctor.

"Say hello to mom from us," Emily shouts after him, "and good luck!" She looks after her father who disappears through a swinging door marked Deliveries, then trots toward the waiting area to join her brother. She places herself in a chair next to him, looks around, gets up again to leaf through a pile of magazines on one of the tables, finds nothing of interest, goes back to her chair, and lets herself fall onto it with a sigh.

"You could've gone with dad, if you wanted," William tells her without looking up from his phone.

"Nah, I'm good."

Both sit in silence for a while. William is totally absorbed in a game on his smartphone, Emily pulls a history book and some pencils out of her backpack and starts reading, writing notes on the pages in different colors here and there. William shakes his head when he sees her doing that. "That's so old school, sis."

"Well, it's good for me. This way, the information stays longer in my brain than when I read it on a screen. You may call it old school, bro, I call it efficient mnemonics."

"Whatever," he sighs, his eyes back on the screen.

"Hey, what you said in the car, that mom doesn't care about us anymore, what did you mean by that?"

"I meant what I said, whatever the baby needs comes first, and we will play second fiddle. Or maybe even third. But I don't care. If things get unbearable, I will ask to go to boarding school. They can play house with the new baby then and I won't be there to bother anyone with my presence."

"You're being ridiculous, Will. Mom and dad will never let you go to boarding school, and I can't believe it will be anything like you just said."

William only shrugs. The narrative in his head has solidified like concrete, and he can't imagine a worse place to be right now. The best he can do is immerse himself in this online game and forget about what is happening at the other side of the door his father vanished through. After some hours of playing (thank God he brought his charger) and a short nap with his head leaned back against the wall, his stomach grumbles. "Are you also hungry, Em?"

"Well, I could have a snack. How long have we been waiting?"

"We came here at 10:45 am, now it's almost 6," William tells her, looking at the big clock on the wall of the waiting area.

"Wow, seven hours already. Poor mom. I wonder why dad hasn't given us an update."

"Do you think something is going wrong and he doesn't want to tell us?" William says, his voice trembling a bit.

"I don't think so."

"It's not so unlikely at mom's age."

"And how do you know?"

"I read stuff."

"You read stuff. Where?" Emily has problems picturing her brother behind a pregnancy textbook.

"On the internet, where else? If you google 'late motherhood' you get thousands of hits. And they all tell you women should have babies in their twenties and thirties, not their fifties. There is a reason for that. Nature doesn't want you to have a baby when you're old."

"Mom's not old."

"For having babies she is. She should be a grandmother rather than giving birth."

"Well, if she was a grandmother, I would already have a baby," Emily points out pensively, then adds a determined, "no thanks!"

"I just can't believe they let this happen."

"Let what happen?"

"Getting mom pregnant. Why? How?"

"Well, I can tell you how..."

"Ew, don't!" William imitates a gagging sound. "But why?"

"I guess it just happened."

"There are ways to prevent getting pregnant, I hope you are aware of that, unlike our parents apparently. I don't want to be an uncle on top of this any time soon. How could they have been so dumb? I don't get it. For all the times mom lectured us about condoms and safe sex, she didn't follow her own words." He shakes his head showing his disapproval and lack of understanding quite clearly. "I will never have sex, that's for sure."

Emily gives a slight chuckle. At fourteen, her brother most certainly doesn't have any idea of the joy of it. When he gets older and starts fancying girls, he might rethink his attitude, but something else is hitting her the longer their conversation goes. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"Well, what else was I to do? It has been the main topic in our house for the longest time. I guess, sometimes they even forgot I was still living there."

"Bullshit."

William is done explaining his thoughts. His sister obviously isn't getting the point either, just like his parents. "Now are we getting something to eat, or what?"

"You hangry?" Emily asks with a smirk and he is glad she has taken the bait and they changed the topic.

"After seven hours of wasting my time in this stuffy waiting room, I think I am allowed to have a bite to eat. Do you have change for the machine?" The boy is inwardly fuming at his father for once again neglecting him by not giving him money for food.

Big sister overtakes Em again, "I am definitely getting us something more nutritious. There has to be a cafeteria somewhere with sandwiches and a drink with less sugar than what I see in that machine." The idea of having to deal with a cranky brother on a sugar-high isn't very appealing. She gets up from the chair, her mind set on improving her brother's mood with a tasty snack. Plus, the hunt for food will give her something to do instead of mulling over what her mother is enduring at this very moment in the delivery room. "Text me, if you hear something," she tells her brother before she leaves him alone.

He tries to distract himself with the game again, but his thoughts keep going back to six months ago when his world turned upside down. The situation was surreal. His parents had prepared one of their usual Sunday family dinners, Emily had come to join, and with the dessert they served them the news of the pregnancy. His sister's piercing shriek of surprised joy hurt his eardrums and he almost choked on the pie he had in his mouth. His mother annoyed him with science book citations about the finer points of late motherhood and male ongoing virility that made him want to cover his ears entirely and yell 'too much information' at her. The worst was his dad though. The puppy eyes with which he was looking at his mom and the silly petting of her still flat stomach caused a severe tickling in William's throat. To this very day, he hadn't gotten past the shock. He shakes his head to make the unpleasant memories disappear.

And then, of course, what had to happen happens: Emily is gone for about fifteen minutes when Mulder appears in the waiting area with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. "Waiting time is over, the baby's here! It's a girl! A healthy, beautiful little girl," he announces, his voice full of pride and also relief. He looks around, surprised to find William alone. "Where is your sister?"

"Getting us a snack. Is mom alright?"

"She is. She did great. I am so amazed by that woman." Mulder's whole face lights up. "She sent me to get you guys. When will Em be back?"

"I don't know. She's been gone for about 20 minutes now, it shouldn't take her much longer. I mean only if she hasn't met a cute guy she needed to get into a conversation with." William rolls his eyes so hard he sees the back of his head, his voice high-pitched on 'cute guy'.

Mulder is still so high on adrenaline that he doesn't chime in, although he too has been annoyed more than once by his daughter's tardiness, and the reason has often enough been a 'cute guy'. "Okay, gotta go back to Scully, I don't want to leave her and the baby alone for too long," he says. He points toward a long gray hallway with several doors on each side. "We're in room 302 over there on the right. As soon as Em gets back, come and join us. Mom is waiting for you guys."

"But dad," William laments in vain, his father is already around the corner. "Great," he mumbles to himself. First, they drag him out here and make him wait endless hours in an uncomfortable chair only to be here when the baby is born, and now that it is born, they don't have a problem with him standing around for God knows how long until his tardy sister is back. Typical. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, types in 'get here asap', his fingers flying over the screen, and slams the send button.

Impatience gets the better of him soon. There is no more sitting in the chair and playing online games for him now, he is pacing the waiting area, glad that nobody else is there to see him in this state. If Emily isn't back soon, he'll explode, he thinks, but it takes another 20 minutes until he sees her leisurely strolling down the hallway. He sighs in relief when she finally stands in front of him, a cardboard tray in one hand filled with two drinks and something to eat he can't quite figure out, and some flowers wrapped in paper in the other. "It's about time!" he lets her know.

"Sorry," Emily says quite relaxed, "I was just standing in line to pay for the food when I got your text. This hospital complex is huge and a bit confusing to be honest. I'm not sure I took the shortest way on my way back. Healthy muffins, iced tea, and something for your sweet tooth," she says with a grin, holding the tray out to William. "What happened?"

"What happened? What do you think happened? The baby's here, of course, and mom wants to see us!"

Emily gives a girly shriek that hurts William's ears once again. "Yay! Great! You could've been a bit more specific in your text rather than simply summoning me back here. I thought you were just craving the food."

"Yeah, well, there was food right in front of our noses." William points to the vending machine, unable to keep his outstretched index finger steady. "But you had to go on a hunting trip for some salad leaves and made me stand around here alone wondering."

"Where are they?"

"In room 302. They are waiting for us. It's this way." William nods in the direction Mulder showed him.

"Okay, let's go then."

Side by side, Emily and William take long strides toward the room they were told. "Boy or girl?" Emily asks on the way.

"Girl."

"Yay again! Ah, that's wonderful. I have a little sister," she chants.

William isn't sharing an ounce of his sister's enthusiasm. If he had been given a choice, he would have passed on this experience as a whole, but now that they are standing in front of room 302, by opening that door what he has tried to deny will become real. If only his mom is alright, he will accept all that comes with it: sleepless nights because of the baby crying, smelly diapers, more Thai takeout, and an annoying younger sister on top of an annoying older one. If only his mom is alright. Emily knocks and he hears his mother's voice say "Come in!" It sounds weak, he thinks, and his heartbeat accelerates. When he follows his sister into the room, he braces himself for the worst.

#dana scully #fox mulder #emily scully #william scully #msr #xf fanfic #au fanfiction

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cotncandyboifics · 3 years

Text

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

sorry to bother again but i am a freshman in college and i am v stressed

how did you get through it and how do I make myself not want to drop every single class i’m in every semester

how does one take more than 5 classes at a time

i am in midterm hell and i am Scared™️

oh you mean, ‘Matt, please do your actual literal job on main?’ Because this is sort of my actual literal job, friend. So don’t worry. I’ve got you.

So first thing’s first, when planning future semesters:

I would recommend against taking more than 5 classes at a time. Mathematically, it is not great for you. If you have to take more than 5, plan on doing 1-2 to during summer school. You won’t be behind. You’re fine. I swear.

Example for future class planning: For every class, look at the number of units/credits it is. That is around the number of hours that you’re gonna spend in that class a week. Now multiply that by 2. That’s about the number of hours total you’re gonna spend on that class in a week (both in class and doing homework).

That means that a 3 unit/credit class = 6 hours of work per week.

You have five of those classes. That means that you’re doing around 30hrs of school work a week. If you have six of those classes, you’re practically working a fulltime job with little to no pay and benefits.

End story: Do not take more than 5 classes a semester if you can help it.

If you can, don’t take more than 4 classes in your major per semester, either. You will die. Use electives and general education classes as your fourth or fifth class to lighten your load and give yourself something that you enjoy and know you can pass for sure. That will give you some breathing room and will help you maintain your GPA.

Coping with Overload now:

At this point in the semester, it’s a little late to be dropping classes, so what you’re going to do instead is to schedule the fuck out of your time.

You need to pick and stick to set dates/times for completing coursework and midterm projects for the next week or two. People do this in different ways, but generally speaking, people will assign projects/homework to certain days.

Example: Monday is Chemistry homework night because assignments are due on Wednesday. You only work on Chemistry on Monday. You finish the assignment and turn it in.

Tuesday is English homework day because assignments are papers and take 3 days to complete due to requiring 3 different steps: research, outlining, and writing. You do the whole researching process on Tuesday and do a basic outline. You will fill out the outline a little more on Wednesday and will then write the whole paper on Thursday so that you can turn it in then, before the Friday deadline.

On Wednesday, after you’re satisfied with your English outline, you will set that aside because Wednesdays are Math days. You will do the Math homework and/or study for 2-3 hours until your brain feels like soup. Then you will stop, do something relaxing for 30min, and then decide if you need to do more studying. If you do, repeat the study + self-care process. Go to sleep at a reasonable hour (before 2am if possible)

Do the same thing for your other 2 classes, assigning each a day and a specific task or set of tasks to complete on each day. Don’t give yourself more than 3 tasks per class/study session, because that’s how you get overwhelmed and into an anxiety spiral.

Apply self-care (breaks, snacks, drinks, music) liberally while doing assignments.

Other tips: figure out how you study.

If you study best in a group, grab some folks from your class and form a study group. If you are in STEM especially, it is expected that you will form study groups. This is how studying happens in STEM, medical, and law fields. It is nigh impossible to do all that labor on your own. Yes, I am serious. Make a study group, even if that’s you and 1 other person.

If you can find a study guide, take it to study group or block out an hour or two and do the whole thing. If you don’t have a study guide, make one yourself out of your homework/assignments and test yourself with flashcards or writing out definitions and forcing yourself to explain the different parts of cycles you learned in class.

If you are in a humanities/liberal arts major, you need to figure out if you study best by reviewing your notes, by re-listening to the lectures, by explaining concepts to others, or by writing it all out as if it was an essay.

If you need to write an essay and are stuck with where to start, reach out for help from a tutor if your school has one, or just start by doing 15 minutes of brainstorming to figure out what you feel about the topic and what evidence/ideas would work to answer it. Pick apart the prompt to see what it is truly asking you to do, write out the components of the prompt separately on a separate page and start answering those question as if they were short answers.

Then when you’ve got that, you can start noting bits of evidence to add to support your points and BAM, just like that, you’ve got an outline. Write a thesis statement at the top that addresses the Who, What, Why and How You’re Going to Prove it of your essay and you’re ready to go.

Example thesis statement: “The world represented in Oh God, How do I Study by Matt Deniigiq includes references to time management, course planning, and big-picture thinking to emphasize the broader theme that this one shit semester is not going to destroy student’s lives. This is evident in the droll humor used throughout the piece and the fact that the author keeps halting in paragraphs to answer emails from frazzled students.”

**yes, your thesis can be 2 sentences long. It’s allowed, I promise.

Know that these 5 classes will not end your life.

Honestly, like, speaking as someone who does this for a living, at public schools anything higher than a C is grand. It’s not usually required for you to list your GPA on job apps later on (I’ve never been asked). No one actually cares about your GPA in social situations.

As long as my students have higher than Cs in their classes and they aren’t like, nursing students, I’m cool with their progress, so give yourself a break if you can.

Also know that getting a low grade in 1 class as a freshmen doesn’t actually fuck up your GPA as bad as you think it will. Like, there’s a lot of complicated shit around this that I could go into, but generally speaking, if you fail one class (and I mean FAIL-fail it. Fs and D-s. None of this ‘UwU I got a C so I failed’), then by the time you’re a junior or a senior, if you haven’t failed additional shit, that F/D- is barely going to shift your GPA.

Like, we’re talking .1 shifts around then. Maybe a .3 shift if you’re at the end of your sophomore year. That’s the diff between a 2.5 and a 2.4. Or a 3.3 and a 3.0. You can make that up almost entirely by taking another round of classes and getting As and Bs (again, the mechanics are complicated, so you’re just gonna have to take my word here).

So yeah, shoot for Cs or higher and know that these classes aren’t the end-all be-alls of your lives.

(For context, if I get a student with a 3.0 or higher, I’m fucking ELATED. I’m not even joking. Y’all will be fine.)

Start with these tips and get back to me if you want something more specific. I do this all day, every day.

#study skills #long post #I am literally answering 10+ email long chains right now of students asking similar questions

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jaxs-beanie · 3 years

Text

Hadestown Notes

I saw Hadestown on September 15, 2021, at my very first Broadway show ever! I took notes during the intermission and afterward, and here they are if you wanna read them! (I never did make it back in November to see Patrick Page’s Hades...Maybe later this year!) Orpheus was Reeve Carney, Eurydice Eva Noblezada, Hades Tom Hewitt, Persephone Amber Gray, Hermes Andre De Shields, Fates Jewelle Blackman, Jessie Shelton, and Mariand Torres, Workers Anthony Chatmon II, Afra Hines, Timothy Hughes, John Krause, and Kim Steele.

Hadestown Day:

Hotel has Broadway TV channel, aired clips/ads from BW shows

1. Phantom of the Opera with Music of the Night song (totally Hadesephone mood) 2. Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, goes into behind the scenes stuff with 109 wigs total 3. Moulin Rouge 4. Wicked, No Good Deed song 5. Chicago 6. Ain't Too Proud 7. Come from Away

No Hadestown ads or features, but the news broadcasts had people lined up outside theaters excited about Hamilton and Six returning. Cool HT banner on the street though featuring Kimberly Marable and Timothy Hughes dancing.

Waiting in line was like waiting in a subway, hot and steamy in mid-September. Cue Persephone’s verses from Chant, lol. May have seen André de Shields on the street going by hair and Hawaiian shirt, but didn't bother him. No one else noticed him, Hermes, god of travel and swiftness for sure. I showed up an hour early like Hades himself (had to be among the first in). Pan mosaic on ceiling; can hear band tuning up a bit. No understudies, Trent Saunders not in playbill yet but 6 swings listed. Trent is likely replacing someone else in the coming months. Pre-show, the stage was blue and white colors, with the bar setting it felt very homey.

ACT 1

Road to Hell, Hermes opens jacket and grins, audience laughs and cheers him on. André held the final ‘again’ for a loooooooooooooooong time to much applause/jazz hands. A guy in the audience said 'aight' before André could and Hermes had to improvise by gesturing to him and shrugging. Hades held up a glass of some drink on his cue, brown liquid of some kind. Fates’ eyes widened and they gave Hermes a Look when he called them old, to laughter.

Orpheus searches himself for matches and finds one in Any Way the Wind Blows, but by the time he pulls it out and starts to walk towards Eury, Hermes already gave her a match. His face fell and it was so cute. Come Home With Me was adorable, and the sound design was amazing, you could hear Orpheus make that paper flower! Biggest laugh of the night was ‘Don’t come on too strong’ followed by ‘Come home with me!’ Eurydice holds the paper flower up to transition into Wedding Song, and the workers moved the tables/chairs as Orpheus sang. I particularly liked the ‘trees’ verse when they stand on the tables and shake rags to represent fruit. Eurydice holds the red flower up on ‘You have to finish it!’

Hades is a total buzzkill for the first half of Act 1, totally uninterested in anything around him except Persephone and playing dominoes and playing dominoes with Persephone. Orpheus was so awkward and FAST, I dunno how Reeve does it. Super manic energy like a rabbit almost. He doesn't walk anywhere, has to run/flail. Persephone stood and fanned herself as Orpheus sang about her in Epic I, everyone but Hades was interested in the song.

Living It Up On Top was tons of fun. Hermes said 'true dat' after 'there will always be enough,' having fun before the storm. Tall Guy (Timothy Hughes’ worker/chorus member) holds Persephone in dance pose at end of song, he also caught the flowers she throws. Hermes and Anthony Chatmon shared cup-throwing/catching duty, Hermes let out a long 'Aiiiiight' after the toast like one sip inebriated him. Tall Guy + Anthony and Kim Steele + Afra Hines danced, then they switched partners, Jax (John Krause chorus member, he headcanons the worker is a different guy) danced with everyone. Eurydice was reluctant but had fun too, Orpheus jammed on his lyre. Good times were had by all but Hades. Persephone kissed him goodbye and he didn't react at all. Brian Drye got well-deserved applause for his trombone solo.

Jax takes Orpheus's guitar to lead into All I’ve Ever Known, sticks it somewhere safe. The 'music sex' scene between Orpheus and Eurydice on All I’ve Ever Known was amazing and so soft; lots of blue lighting. They cuddled for the first half of Way Down Hadestown. Hades’ ‘I missed ya’ was high and earnest like he was expecting a warmer reception. Chorus members huddled around the hole when they left, as did Orph and Eury; when Orph jumped to protect Eury from Hades there was a big laugh and ‘awww.’ Hermes wears reading glasses at some point, Act 1 only, likely around the timeframe of A Gathering Storm. Characters looked at the ceiling/sky as the weather turned, and Afra gave Eury a jacket before she left <3

Chant was epic, Tom's Hades is messy but trying to hide it and you feel like Seph could see through it if she wasn't completely hammered. Orpheus writes in his notebook constantly from Epic II/Chant up to Wait For Me; during Epic II transition there's a lot of smoke and harsh red/sepia light, workers make small hand/arm motions like robots. They also stomp the floor. Hermes’ ‘Look UP!’ was sad and the Fates finished taking Eurydice’s belongings as ‘But the wrath of the gods was in it!’ line ended.

Tom sang Songbird jazzy and businesslike, just another transaction but one he's invested in. He said POET like a dirty word and observed Orpheus in the preceding lines, who was busy writing and oblivious to the world. The Fates got more and more 'active' as Hades' verses progressed, first taking notice, then observing, then walking towards them. They did these smiley-face poses after 'they'll pick you clean.' Hades said 'your ticket' like it was a very obvious thing/choice to make, businesslike.

When the Chips Are Down was very manic, harsh bright pink/purple light on Fates. They grunted and shoved Eurydice around and spun her, couldn't keep still or keep her still. Maenad energy for reals. The theater was dead silent for Gone I'm Gone. The Fates were very proud of themselves post-Chips.

Wait For Me was amazing. Only thing left of Eurydice was the flower, Hermes picks it up and hands it to Orpheus in intro; he clutches it tenderly and never lets it go for the whole song. When the journey starts it's dark and smoky, gradually lightens but in an oppressive way as the workers begin to search for him. They hold the lamps in their hands and spin them at first, then hook them up and swing but still can't find him; Hades needs better guards. Orpheus is FAST, running for his life but not getting anywhere cause the turntable's going like 600 mph. Very bright gold when walls split open, end of Wait For Me has all the workers search and spin the lamps, but they can't catch Orpheus who safely descends into darkness.

Hermes does not sing Why We Build the Wall with the others but DOES salute Hades at the end. Persephone, Fates, and workers all sing and salute him, plus Eurydice at the end. Hades made sure Persephone was watching as he unbuttoned his jacket and went behind closed doors.

ACT 2

Our Lady of the Underground, Persephone kisses Hermes on the cheek for like 5 seconds straight, he's all flushed. He gives her the flowers, she gives him her flask, they swap a few times. Hermes sniffs her flask, winces like it's really strong, then drinks at the end. Persephone used her body language a lot on OLOTU, 'the wind in a jar' pressed a hand to her chest, gestured all around, 'sprinkled' stuff from her flask on the audience. She was hammered. (Plot twist there is no speakeasy and she’s just super drunk, lol.)

Workers stomp floor and sing during Way Down Hadestown Reprise, lots of smoke and red light. Fates grasp at Eurydice and she twists away on 'Hades laid his hands on ya', she was trying to make friends but the workers kept working :( Hermes did a Big Point at Eurydice on ‘and signed her life away!’ Flowers was very sad, blue, empty. Eury was crying on 'is anybody listening' and belted 'I open my mouth and nothing comes out', then kinda did both for 'nothing gonna wake me now.' Workers and Persephone were collapsed/asleep in the background.

Come Home With Me Reprise was sweet; Orph spins Eury around and hugs her like everything will be okay. On 'No, I walked...a long way!' he gestured to the audience/theater exit doors, to some laughter and awws.

Papers was a nice mix of funny and scary. Tom had this REALLY loud, long wheezy laugh when Orpheus says he’s going to take Eurydice home, he started early so he could laugh longer. Hermes pumped his fists and CHEERED ORPH ON at 'but this poor boy raised up his voice!’ Hades watches the Papers fight from the balcony! He had a white spotlight on him and kinda directed the fight with waves of his hand, turned away at the final flourish which was similar to the Edmonton pics/London ending, where the workers grab/spin Orph and hold him down for Nothing Changes. They release him on 'you're bound to lose' lines and get back to work.

If It's True was amazing, Persephone watched the whole time and looked increasingly sad/shocked/guilty. Amber looked STRAIGHT AT ME at one point. Persephone stared straight at Orpheus as the song progressed, Anthony and Kim first to 'awaken' and stand, then John Krause’s worker and Tall Guy, then Afra. Eurydice is the last to stand; she tried to stop Orph leaving early but he didn't notice/turn until the workers stopped and sang, and Eury fell to her knees until Orph got his resolve back.

Orpheus seems to sing the final 'is it true what they saaaay' directly at Persephone, and she books it to find Hades. How Long had a lot of fog machine smoke on the floor, guess Hades' office is well-ventilated. Blue when Persephone sings, orange when Hades sings. Hades flinches and shrinks back on 'just as long as I am your wife.' Tom's Hades says 'the girl means nothing to me' like he was offended Persephone would think that he did something with Eurydice even though he clearly wanted her to think that.

Chant Reprise = Epic. Steam whistle so cool, loud, smoky, really set the mood of the song. Kim and Anthony stand first on 'why do we turn away...' and hold hands. John and Tall Guy stand on 'why do we build a wall...' and look around at their surroundings. 'If we're free, tell me why--' Afra and I THINK Kim locked eyes as if for the first time.

Hades holds out arms like scales of justice on 'are ya brave or stupid, son' then shrugs on 'doesn't matter which one.' Lots of dramatic hand gestures and pointing/finger guns on 'take it from an old man!' Orph and Eury were leaders rallying the workers, giving them courage/hope.

Hades scales the stairs and reaches the balcony doors in buildup to I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITYYYYY. Lights go BIG, then out, then scary muted colors. 'Make the king feel young again!' said as a taunt, there's no way this kid will pull it off.

Then Epic III happened. 'Oh, it's about me?' Hades looked at the audience. Laughter was had. Orpheus watched Eurydice and Persephone as he started to compare them in the song. Lights and fog got more intense/brighter as the song progressed. At the first lalalas, Hades stands up and starts to walk to Orph, then meekly retreats when Persephone tells him to let him finish.

The lalalas were raw, powerful, and loud. Like the whole world was singing. Very bright gold, Orpheus raised his arms like he was conducting/leading the others. Everyone sang, Hermes, Fates, workers as they spun around the turntable. Hades was trapped on the turntable with Orpheus as it rose.

Tall Guy and Afra took off their caps, then John, Kim, and Anthony. They all looked at each other, the light, the audience, like they were seeing the sun for the first time in their lives.

John had hands on Afra's shoulders for Promises, others a crowd. Eurydice pointed at the audience and exit doors on 'we'll just go back the way you came!’ Orpheus and Eurydice had a BIG kiss on Promises end, people applauded, I awwwed. Eurydice initiates the kiss. Hades and Persephone held their poses for a LONG time. The dance was super sweet and cute (I’m bad at describing dancing). It was simple but very heartfelt. I could hear the audience sniffling on Epic III through Promises.

Then Hades ruined everything with 'I dunno.' The workers were CRUSHED. John huddled all by himself, Tall Guy, Kim, and Anthony all had their heads down and hands over their heads, Afra stayed standing but was clearly upset. Orpheus and Eurydice hugged and huddled as the Fates finished. Persephone was with the others, all against Team Hades (party of one), Hermes was watching off to the side but was clearly upset as His Kiss, The Riot began. Afra still standing left an impression on me. The workers just love each other so much when they can remember to XD

Start of His Kiss The Riot, Hades looked at the flower and fiddled with it in his hand like he wanted to crush it. Was fake-happy for 'beautiful/lovely', angry/scared on 'poisonous/deadly.' His shadow was on the back wall and got larger when he stood up, lots of scary sickly green/yellow lighting. Hades laid out the conditions and Hermes nodded but looked so, so sad.

On 'he did?' in Wait for Me Reprise Intro EVERYONE booked it until Hermes delivered the bad news, Kim and Anthony almost 'left.' Orpheus’s 'it's a trap' was said like a question, he wasn't sure if it was or not. Hades gave Persephone the flower when she left in time for spring; she held it/sang with it the whole time. Eurydice did a Big Jump onto the turntable in Wait For Me Reprise, and there was lots of cool blue lighting and fog.

Doubt Comes In was sooooo dark. Very muted teal lighting, almost no light at all. The bass was like a heartbeat and it shook the theater, The Fates and their lanterns appeared intermittently behind Orpheus, Eurydice disappeared at times. Orpheus clutches his head in agony/anxiety on the lalas, no response but the throbbing bass. Eurydice’s sections added more light, workers were somewhere in the middle of the stage, I think, they came and went like ghosts. Orpheus was ANGRY on the 'he'd deceive me' lines, at Hades and himself. As the song started to end the set reset to how it was when it opened, there were glowing golden stairs to the outside.

And then he turned around and the whole stage lit up and we saw Eurydice and the audience gasped. She fell to her knees and was gone. The lift makes a grinding sound when moving up/down.

Road To Hell Reprise started dead quiet. Hermes was crying on 'the song was written long ago....' and 'to know how it ends, and still begin to sing it again...' As the instruments come back in, Persephone rises up with the lift, queen of the IKEA and tables and chairs. Chorus resets set to beginning, Hades exits balcony doors on 'with a love song' and descends to join the cast on 'it's a love song'. Eurydice finds red flower, I THINK from Persephone, and pins it in her hair. Orpheus comes back in at the very last line, 'we're gonna sing it again', and looks at Eurydice with love at first sight.

We Raise Our Cups was very sweet, lots of sniffles, Orpheus and Jax sidehug bros for life. Anthony poured Hades and the Fates wine, other chorus members passed the cups around and also poured wine. (Due to all the wine-pouring I kinda see Anthony’s worker as Ganymede the cup-bearer, lol). It was an amazing experience and I’m so glad to have seen the show. Hoping to see it again in November when Patrick Page returns!

#hadestown #hadestown broadway #orpheus #eurydice #hades #persephone #hermes #the workers #the fates #jax

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