#this is genuinely one of the most heartbreaking poems i’ve ever read

[r0bzombixx]

— unsent letters, margaux paul

[celestie0]

(sending you an ask as a reply to your response to my reblog, because my network is being a bitch and idk if it went through the first time, it showed it failed to go through to me, and also because it’s easier this way, to type it out in the comment section or reblog)

ANYWAYS(

think i’ve said it before but i’ll say it again; gojo loves reader so passionately, so devotedly and even unconditionally. he fell so much harder, it’s heartbreaking that she doesn’t know, but it’s even more heartbreaking that he’s suffering alone, i’m genuinely waiting for the day she gets to hold him through the night and reassure him that’s it’s fine, that they will be fine. idk perfect, but i think they will be the nearest thing to perfection. perfectly splendid.

there’s nothing sexier than a man who loves passionately and consensually. idk about the rest, but personally him looking at her with so much desire and still letting go of her hands when she interlocks it because she might regret when the sun comes up is undeniably one of the most passionate moments ever. i cannot really explain how it is tbh, but there’s something so strong over there. it’s angsty, it’s heartbreaking, and there’s so much selfless love. he’s so good AND he does it so well. iykyk. also that was indeed a “slut” reference because isn’t gojo a gentleman? a man who loves you more than himself? id dedicate all my favourite ts songs to him! any day.

my favourite part about you showing her vulnerability is how it all came together since the beginning, like there were always hints and words of it and they fall together so elegantly. the pacing, the eloquence, everything has been so well put together.

her problems are so relatable…like i get that feeling when you question your calibre, your career choice and everything you’ve ever done. the inner conflict about your cv and if it’s even acceptable, unique, extraordinary? the world is so fast paced and theres only so much we can do,. it’s been refreshing to read about a character who does express their vulnerability regarding their career. i personally think we lack that substance nowadays. even in published paperbacks.

im screaming that i could make an impact on you with my words, because your words definitely made a huge impact on me. they’ve not only refreshed me, but also inspired me, i obviously cannot write a story this well, but i can write poems, i’ve done that most of my lives. i struggle with keeping up with the pacing in stories tbh. and dialogues. (and insecurities)

i’m keeping your fic in my favourite reads ever!

🫶💌

hi dear aaa im not sure if the reblog went through for me so im glad you sent the ask!!

ouu your analysis of gojo’s emotional wellbeing has me tearing up 😭 i think it’s sad too how he struggles to open up quite yet and im sure it feels like two steps forward one step back w reader so far, but im hoping that w more scenes reader can show him she’s trustworthy and can be someone there for him ☺️💕 its going to be a joy to build more of their connection. i’m suuuuper excited for gojo’s last pov chapter which i wont spoil which chap it’ll be but im alr so curious how you will receive it dear reader given how deeply youve given his character thought 🫶🏼💕

haha i LOOOVE the wildest dream ref n just all the ts refs in generaaaal i listen to folklore/evermore when i write each chap <3 and thank you it’s so flattering that you could pick up that energy btwn them in the writing i was rly hoping i could capture it 🥺

and yesss i really resonate with that! i think ive read a lot of works that do have aspects of career and romance but for kickoff im really trying to marry the two :) both w gojo grappling w his focus on soccer due to his father’s legacy rather than his focus on the more “important” things in life such as love n happiness (which his father only rly learned after he couldn’t play the sport anymore), but also in reader who holds on very tightly to her dreams & has only had them in mind since the beginning (her “terms & condition” from gojo) but she’s struggling in dealing w her fears of failure. i think that the two of them have valuable insight that they could offer each other and help them trust one another more bc of these two situations theyre in :) and could build to a more healthy and genuine romance

and yesss to all of the career doubts and wondering if you’re good enough 😭 thats something so universal and also something i genuinely wonder if it will ever go away

THANK YOU AGAIN SM FOR YOUR WORDS I HAVE SM FUN TALKING AB KICKOFF W YOU omg its got me out here emotionallll. that’s so lovely you write poems my dear i could TELL honestly haha you have such a breathtaking way w words n deliberation

also i’ll respond to your reblog of the writing tips post here but you are so very welcome im really rooting for you and awaiting your tag <33

so much love 💕

[cristalconnors]

TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet. 

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow? 

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.  

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career. 

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward. 

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it. 

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine? 

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either. 

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too. 

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world? 

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay. 

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want. 

[benkouji726]

So I wrote my 5+1 Forlex fic, as I was saying earlier. I really lack impulse control when it comes to rnm, sigh.

Jealous Guerin may have some appearances in this fic too, but it’s eventually Forlex. 

This is the first part of it. I will try to update it daily, before I lose my nerves.

Five times Alex surprised Forrest and one time he didn’t

1.

It was supposed to be some harmless fun, at first.

Forrest was intuitive, to put it mildly. You didn’t grow up in a Long household and become this well-liked and popular family member by being dense, especially when you were gay. Besides, his gut feeling had saved him more times than he could count in battles, it was one of the reasons his buddies trusted him with their lives.

He was very good at reading people and situations around or between them. He didn’t always care what people thought of him, of others or of themselves, but he noticed all the same and would efficiently use that information to his advantage. Call it his people skills, but it was how he managed to live through his rebellious youth period, his military years, and now his adult life in a backwards town like Roswell, while never stopped being his colorful-haired, emo-poetry-writing, 20 pounds of personality in a 5 pound pocket-sized body self.

So he had known there was something between Alex and Alien Guy even when they first met at the Long farm. As they talked, it was like there were only them in the whole world. The air seemed thicker and more tangible, the atmosphere charged. Then at the diner, Forrest noticed the meaningful glance Alien Guy shot his way. When Alex sang that song, Guerin walked in and they seemed to have some soul searching conversations through their eyes only, well, it was really not that hard a guess who the song was for. And frankly, Alex needed to work on his poker face a LOT if he was ever gonna sell that obvious “it was a long time ago” lie.

But at the time, it hadn’t really mattered. Whatever it was between them, it seemed neither of them was going to make a move. And Alex was so hot sometimes he wondered how the hell he remained single in the first place, but he WAS single, and a smart guy like Forrest was never gonna miss out a perfectly good opportunity to make out with a hot guy and have some fun time with him.

It was supposed to be just like that, some fun, some company, some glorious make out sessions. Nothing heavy or potential heartbreak or anything.

Which was probably why he didn’t even realize he was falling for Alex until it was a bit of too late.

They were dating for two months at that point. Forrest had met almost all of Alex’s friends and family members (the ones who counted as friends and family in Alex’s book anyway), minus Michael Guerin. And Forrest had won them over one by one. He once overheard Liz call him “charming, funny, honest and loyal to a fault”, to a reluctant Isobel Evans, who had been giving him stink eyes ever since he and Alex had gone out, but in their last get-together thingy (Forrest honestly didn’t know how to call these, because they were irregular as fuck, both in schedule and in attending member counts), Isobel joined him at the bar when he was getting them the last round, considered him for a second, patted him on his shoulder without looking at him and said in a small but genuine voice: “You are not half bad”. So Forrest would call it a win.

In hindsight, it should have been his first warning sign that he cared so much of what Alex’s friends think of him. But in his defense, Alex was most at ease when he was with his friends, which meant he would always be sweet, adorable, sometimes sassy, sometimes soft, and had the unique sense of humor in a deadpan way, and Forrest was too busy being charmed to notice it.

So when his platoon buddies, Tony and Chris, came into town to visit him and he brought Alex to have a beer together, he was so caught off guard when Alex went to bathroom and Tony said:

“Man, you’re so gone on him, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t even a question.

Forrest spluttered, red faced, and said, eloquently: “uh, what?”

Tony and Chris changed a look, both amused. “You’ve been staring at him all night, Long. You look at him as if he hung the moon. You can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself, not to be PDA or something, but little touches, I think you didn’t even notice. He made a joke earlier, granted, it WAS hilarious, but the way you laughed, like you think he is the most funny guy in the whole world, which, no offense, is really not the case.”

Tony drank some water after his long ass bullshit, and Chris went in for a final blow. “So in conclusion, you’ve had it bad, dude, like, we’ve-never-seen-you-like-this level bad.”

Forrest was dumbstruck at that. He must’ve seemed like a dumbass too, because they decided to take pity on him, and changed the subject.

“Anyway, you know we’ve been relocated to the nearby base, Tobias and Leo are near enough too. The others all cashed in some long-overdue vacation days so we can have a little get together for our platoon in Santa Fe next month. You should come too.”

OK, that was exciting news. He missed his buddies and would be very happy to spend some time with them.

But Tony hesitated a little before continued: “There is a catch though. We thought it would be nice that we all bring our significant others, or even our children. So it would be a more family style setting. It may not be your thing.”

The thing was, it would totally be Forrest’s thing. He just didn’t know how to say it. With his platoon buddies, he always seemed like the free spirited lone wolf, easygoing, open and honest, but never the one to talk about family issues or kids problems with. But he would enjoy being surrounded by family love and loud but innocent kids, so he opened his mouth to just say that when he was interrupted by a light laugh.

“What are you guys talking about, family and kids and platoon buddies all under the same roof? It’s totally his thing.”

Forrest was startled, both by Alex’s sudden reappearance and his seemingly psychic ability to read his mind. When he remained silent a second too long, Alex apologized.

“Sorry, did I overstep? You actually don’t want to go or...?”

“No! I mean, yes, I wanna go. I just, something they said earlier, it was a lot to unpack. But you are right, I would love to go.” Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Alex didn’t seem to buy it, but he was kind enough to drop it at the time.

On their drive home though, Alex picked it up again, as Alex would do, because he was a stubborn son of bitch like that.

“You wanna talk about what happened earlier?”

Forrest sighed. Best to just cut to the chase.

“Why did you say it was totally my thing? We didn’t often talk about family and kids, if any.”

Alex frowned, “No, we didn’t normally talk about that stuff. But it’s obvious you like family energy and friendly gatherings, isn’t it? Am I not supposed to know that?”

“But how? I served with my buddies for a long time, we trust each other with our lives. But almost none of them know it.”

“Forrest”, Alex smiled, “you like almost all of your family members, stay friends with a lot of them, despite some of them are real assholes. You even like hanging out with my friends and family too, not just because we are dating, but because you love being around people who give you warm family-like feelings. You organize every open mic night at the pony, and are genuinely interested in the acts and the people behind them, you like to talk to them about their lives and their relationships. You volunteer at the youth shelter. You are, simply put, a people person. You like people, you see good in them, you want to be around them and be a positive influence for them. You don’t necessarily tolerate stupid bigots, and you would be the first to call out their cowardice, but if they are willing to change and be better, you would want to believe in them too.”

He exhaled, oblivious of Forrest’s stunned expression, and continued.

“For a man who has that big a heart, I’d imagine spending some time with his buddies and their families would totally be his thing, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, but...”

“And there’s also your poetry.”

Forrest was getting whiplash tonight, he could hardly keep up.

“My poetry?”

“Yeah, you gave me your emo poetry journal the other day and asked for my opinion?”

“I remember that. In fact, I remember it was a week ago and I still haven’t got any feedback yet.” If he was being honest, he would say he had been a little hurt by that too.

Alex’s face turned a shade pink. “I know I was being a little slow. But I just want to do them justice, you know? I’ve been reading each of them multiple times, so I can get the gist right.”

OK, hurt instantly healed. He really should be concerned how Alex’s words could so easily affect his mood.

“Anyway, the poems you wrote, they are all very pro-humanity, at least in my opinion. Like, the themes vary, some about personal journeys, some about lost love, some about struggling life, some about anger and pain. But the words have something like warmth attached to them, like despite all, there’s hope, and there’s good, in people, in humanity, in the whole world.”

He looked down at his hands then, voice quiet.

“And that’s the thing I like most about you.”

Shit.

“Shit”, It was definitely too soon, but Forrest just can’t not say it. “I think I might be falling for you.”

Alex looked at him right then, hesitated then determined: “I don’t think I’m there yet. But I think I could see myself heading down that road someday.”

He added in a more unsure voice: “Is that OK?”

Forrest reached out, squeezed his hand, and reassured him: “It’s OK”.

And it really was.

[seirity]

Chihaya 3 episode 23 reactions and thoughts on Taichihaya: Part 2 - The Confession

This is the second part of my post regarding episode 23 of Chihayafuru 3. If you would like to read the first part of the post please go here.

So after all that build up, it finally happens. Taichi finally gets his opportunity to confess to Chihaya right before the start of the new school year.

Honestly, I think it’s beautiful how meticulous Suetsugu-sensei was with Taichi’s confession. While Arata’s was short and sweet, but completely fitting for his personality, Taichi’s was incredibly detailed.

First and foremost, Taichi’s confession coincides with spring and is done with the cherry blossoms in full bloom. Spring is a special season in Japan, since it is a time of new beginnings, of change, of life, and for people to come together to celebrate the start of a new year. Unlike the west, Japan’s school year starts in the spring. It’s also a period of time that is associated with love and I’ve also seen many references of love blooming between couples during this time period. Coincidence? I think not.

For those of you that would like to learn more about this, here is a very nice blog entry regarding love and spring in Japan.

On the flip side, those of you that are being devil advocates are probably asking me:  But what about the fact that spring is also associated with the transience of life? Honestly, I think this meaning of spring is more associated with what comes after the confession and how it signifies that Chihaya took Taichi for granted. She took for granted how he was always a part of her life. He was always there for her. He was always with her.

Anyways, I digress.

To be honest, in my opinion, Taichi’s confession felt more genuine and more heartfelt than Arata’s because of the way he went about it. He actually confessed that he was the one who took and hid Arata’s glasses back then before telling Chihaya that he’s loved her all these years. Taichi didn’t have to, but he did it because he wanted to prove that he too has changed or grown as a person since his elementary school days. For him, this means he has to come to terms with the fact that he took Arata’s glasses back then, no matter how much Chihaya may possibly hate him for it or how it may change her opinion of him. It’s no coincidence that Suetsugu-sensei follows his revelation with this statement:

“I’ve always.. always... wanted to be someone who wasn’t a coward.”

Then he confesses to Chihaya that he loves her.

Taichi tells Chihaya that ever since they were children, he’s loved her fingernails that she never grows out, her fingers, her hair, her mouth that is always wide open like an idiot, and her smile. Yet before he even tells her this, he’s repeating, “Just kidding, Chihaya. That was a joke. Just a joke.” like a mantra in his mind. Almost as if he was going to give himself a way out before he takes the plunge and goes all in. It’s beautiful because the audience can feel the moment when he realizes he is at that tipping point: the point of no return. It’s heartbreaking and it pulls at your heartstrings.

It’s at this exact moment that Suetsugu-sensei chooses to bring up how Taichi doesn’t like the person Chihaya becomes when she’s thinking of Arata. Suetsugu-sensei chooses this exact moment to give the audience a look into Chihaya’s mind and reveals Chihaya is recalling Arata’s confession. It’s such a beautiful juxtaposition of how each of them have chosen to tell Chihaya how they feel about her.

I’ve always been confused about this ever since I read the manga, but it’s never made sense to me why there are two different version of Arata’s confession.

After the Meijin/Queen qualifying matches:

While Taichi is confessing to her:

The last part of the confession is completely different and it makes me wonder if what Arata says at the Meijin/Queen qualifying matches is what actually occurred, while what Chihaya recalls during Taichi’s confession was her own interpretation of what Arata said when he told her that they should play karuta together in college if she wants to.

Kana-chan did allude to this earlier in the series:

Anyways, it is this beautiful juxtaposition that makes it clear that there is a difference in the depth of their feelings for Chihaya. For me, Taichi’s confession is much more sincere, but honestly, this could also be because he had time to prepare for it. Arata simply blurted out his feelings for Chihaya in a spur of the moment kind of thing simply because of what she said at the moment. He didn’t have the time or foresight to really think about what he wanted to say in his own confession.

For me, Taichi’s confession was a lot easier to understand in the anime than in the manga, since I had the Japanese audio. I’m forever grateful for those who do the scanlations and I know they try their best, but sometimes things don’t really make sense since a translation is done based on the translator’s interpretation of the scene. Chihayafuru is a difficult manga to translate since the subject of the lines are usually not included and it’s not clear to whom some of the thoughts are directed at or from. Animating a series clears up the vast majority of the issues that arise from translating Chihayafuru, not to mention the amazing music and voice acting that comes with it. Speaking of which, both Miyano Mamoru and Seto Asami truly outdid themselves in this scene. The voice acting and the music were both superb and matched the scene perfectly.

Finally, we are now at the most controversial part of Taichi’s confession: Chihaya’s response.

Honestly, 「“感じ”悪いから、聞こえね－よ」or “’Kanji’ ga warui kara, kikoeneeyo” is a really hard line to translate. Kanji or 感じ here is in quotation marks because it’s not the normal definition of 感じ, which is feeling or sense. 感じ here refers more to the ability of being able to understand the flow of a match because you have extremely good senses, which in karuta’s case is hearing. So in this case, Taichi is essentially saying he was unable to hear what Chihaya said because his hearing isn’t as good as Chihaya’s or good enough to hear what she whispered.

For me, this just makes my heart break because it’s just another layer of misunderstanding between these two as their actions/lack of actions tear each other apart.

While this card did not appear in the manga, I will say I do like how it made an appearance here in the anime. It is the second part of poem #46:

‘Where, over the deep of love, The end lies, I do not know “

行く方もしらぬ 恋の道かな

The entire poem is actually this:

Like a mariner Sailing over Yura's strait With his rudder gone: Where, over the deep of love, The end lies, I do not know.

由良のとを わたる舟人 かぢをたえ 行く方もしらぬ 恋の道かな

It’s a beautiful poem and I actually really like how the translator for the anime chose to translate the last part as “I do not know where this love will take me.���

The English translation done by the University of Virginia is beautiful and echoes the same sentiments as a Japanese explanation for this poem that I found here:

由良の門を渡る船頭が、櫂がなくなって行方も知れず漂うように、将来どうなるとも知れない恋の行方であるなあ。 Yura no to wo wataru sendou ga, kai ga nakutemo yukue mo shirazu tadayou youni, shourai dou naru mo shiranai koi no yukue de aru kana.

Just as a mariner does not know where he is going as he drifts down the Yura strait without his oar, what will become of this love in the future and where it will go is unknown. (disclaimer: 将来 or shourai means future in the sense of what will happen soon and not in the far out future/long term.)

The poem is perfect for this scene because Taichi does not know how Chihaya will actually react to his confession or where his love for Chihaya will take him, just as the mariner does not know where he is going as he drifts down the Yura strait without his oar.

For me, the 「ごめん」or “I’m sorry” that Chihaya whispers isn’t a response to Taichi’s confession, but more her apologizing for never realizing his feelings for her were the reason why he couldn’t tell her everything and why he did things alone. This is due to the fact that the first thing she thinks of after hearing Taichi’s confession is this particular scene:

After her flashbacks, Taichi’s confession plays again in her mind and then it finally hits her: Taichi loves her.

I alluded to this in part one of my post, but I would like to reiterate the same sentiments here. I REALLY liked how they animated this particular scene and the timing of the close up has such a beautiful impact. The audience can really feel the moment where it hits Chihaya.

As Taichi leaves the room, the camera pans to Chihaya and we are left with this scene:

The way this scene was beautifully animated further drives this point home because she is shocked to learn that Taichi has been silently suffering all this time because of her. She feels she is the reason why he hasn’t been happy. or hasn’t been smiling. She’s also shocked to learn that the person who has always been a constant in her life loves her. Now for part 3: The aftermath.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

if its no trouble may i request a fic where the reader is a writer and she and jaskier’s relationship is sort of built on a mutual love for poetry? like one quoted a line from some poem when they first met and the other got super excited over it and the rest of it was history?

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 536Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle a/n: The poem I use in this fic is my all-time favorite. It’s called “You Are Tired” by ee cummings and you can read the rest of it here. This prompt was so fun to write, thank you!

A loud, echoing yawn rent the silence you’d been sitting in and you shot the man a glare. He blinked at you sleepily and the soft, unfocused expression on his beautiful blue eyes eased your irritation a bit.

“How is it going on your end?” he asked, calling over the many seats that spanned between you. You weren’t used to having company at the library. Most people abandoned it in the spring to spend more time outside. Most people, but not you who relied on the library as a place to work on your writing. Then this bard showed up one day, lute in one hand and leather bound notebook in the other, and forced you to share your space. If he were just a touch less handsome you may have actually lodged a complaint when he began strumming for tunes but you just squinted at him peevishly and tried to hide the way your foot tapped along to the song. You’d been surprised that he seemed genuinely focused. He had the discipline of a student, not a wandering performer, and his skill at research suggested time spent in a university. Still, you weren’t looking to make friends. No matter how handsome or charming.

“Just working,” you replied quickly, going back to your parchment.

“Oh same, same,” he said words falling away mid-yawn. You shook your head.

“You are tired, I think,” you said.

“Of the always puzzle of living and doing,” Jaskier said, finishing the line aloud as you said it in your head. You looked up at him in shock.

“And so am I,” you said, testing him. Excitement filled his pale blue eyes and he got up, reciting as he crossed the rows to get to you.

“Come with me, then,” he said, “And we’ll leave it far and far away.”

“Only you and I, understand,” you added breathlessly as he knelt by your chair, enraptured.

“I’ve never met anyone else who knew that poem,” he said.

“You must not spend much time around libraries,” you joked, but you were just as excited as he appeared. You’d loved that poem for ages and it was always overshadowed by the poet’s other works. Something about it struck you, though. Enough that you had read it again and again, memorizing each line until you knew it by heart. To find another whose heart writ the same words was an experience unlike any other.

“I’m Jaskier,” he said, “Jaskier de Lettenhove.”

“I’m Y/N,” you answered, meeting his outstretched hand with your own, “Y/N de Nilfgaard.”

He raised your hand to his lips, eyes never leaving yours as he planted a soft kiss on it.

“I know you’re very busy but do you think you might be willing to humor me with some more conversation about poetry?” he asked.

You’d heard that rogues and bards used all sorts of tools to charm their prey. You’d never realized they may resort to poetry. You never could have guessed how eagerly you’d comply. And neither of you could have known (though for years on Jaskier would insist he’d known from the moment he saw you) how that poem would start a love more beautiful than any saga ever penned.

[razorsadness]

1. Saturday was the solstice. I have written too much about the summer solstice and personal anniversaries already. Here, there, everywhere. But god, I am thinking of that summer sixteen years ago. Iowa, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Maryland. Wisconsin & Illinois. The How ‘Bout That Tour. Heartbreak & driving in a car with suspended license plates. Were-cats & lesbian ravers. Porch steps in Cincinnati, the hostel in Philly, the cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains, that motel room in Pittsburgh. Weed & beer, that motel in Pittsburgh, glow-bowling, my lucky dress, my little accident... All those long-lost lovers and f(r)iends. Sometimes I miss those days, that’s right you heard me... Why is that summer still so vivid? And how much of it, now, is a false memory? I have written so much about that summer, about that year, in ways both fantastical and more true-to-life, that I wonder how many of my memories of it are my “real” memories, and how many are memories of what I’ve written rather than what I actually lived. But what’s that Joan Didion quote? I always had trouble distinguishing between what happened and what merely might have happened, but I remain unconvinced that the distinction, for my purposes, matters.

2. On Sunday, my parents came over, and we had a socially-distanced/with masks Father’s Day cookout in our backyard. It was good.

3. The fireflies are out. So are the neighbors, shooting off fireworks at all hours of the day and night. I love the fireflies. The fireworks freak me out.

4. Random memory I had the other day, so vivid it, for a moment, felt like I was back there: summertime, circa 2000/2001, sitting outside Leroy’s Water Street Coffee in Door County, reading zines, chainsmoking, drinking pinhead gunpowder tea (which I first drank because of the band Pinhead Gunpowder, but then genuinely loved the taste of.) And of course thinking of Door County and Leroy’s made me think of other long-lost friends and lovers. But what doesn’t make me think of that?

5. Thinking of Door County. Thinking of Wisconsin. I’m finally putting out my chapbook Wisconsin Death Trip next month, the one I’ve been working on in some form for nearly four years, now. Thinking about how there are so many more poems I could’ve written for it. I realized I’ll never be done writing about Wisconsin. I’ve lived here, on-and-off, for more of my life than I’ve ever lived in any other state. And though for a good decade and a half I resisted letting it be my home, it became that, anyway. There are many other places that feel like home to me (places I’ve lived, and ones I’ve only visited), but Wisconsin is Home.

6. A couple nights ago, thinking about poetry, I had this thought: the poem is inextricable from the form. Meaning: you can’t paraphrase a poem, not truly; because if you expressed the content in a different way, it would be a different poem. Then I thought that I must have read that line somewhere before, because it seemed too smart for me to have come up with it. I searched through both my blogs for quotes about writing/poetry, and didn’t find that exact quote, or anything even that close to it. Then I Googled it, just to make sure, and again, I didn’t find it. So I guess I did come up with it. But when I Googled it, I came across something similar, in the book Poetry and Mindfulness: Interruption to a Journey by Bryan Walpert:

The various uses to which verse can be put–line breaks, repetition, returns in all of their forms–suggest why we cannot truly paraphrase a poem into what it means, cannot abstract its meaning from the specific way one word leads to another.

&

The meaning of a poem, in other words, is inextricable from its language and its form, and therefore inextricable from the experience of reading it, inextricable from the journey.

7. A short story I wrote in 2003 was included in a digital anthology featuring most of the former members of a certain underground literary organization. I’m not going to name the group, here, because...I have mixed feelings on the whole thing. I chose to be part of it because I want to honor who I was back then, & what I was part of, & because the guy who put the anthology together is still a friend of mine, & so are a handful of other people who are part of it. But I’m not mentioning the anthology anywhere publicly because a couple years ago I had a major falling out with the founder/figurehead of said org, whom I’ll call K. Long story short-ish—he’s always been an antagonistic old crank, but in recent years he started getting even more reactionary and siding with the “free speech means I can say whatever hateful shit I want w/ no consequences!!1!” people, talking shit about “social just warriors,” and also talking shit about people on food stamps or any kind of government assistance. (The government assistance rants especially baffled me, because he’s always talked about being a Working Class Writer. Like, how you gonna be all Working Class Pride and then shit on other working/poor people?!) So after all that happened, I pulled both my stories from the magazine he currently runs, and blocked him on all social media. It was really hard, heartbreaking, because for years he seemed like, while a crank, a good-hearted one, & he was, for a long time, one of the biggest champions of my work. (+ I was bummed to have to pull those stories, because I think they are two of the best stories I’ve ever written, and now no one gets to read them.)

7.5. I just don’t feel comfortable publicly sharing my inclusion in the anthology. For one thing, I’ve come to like some of the big-name authors that group most frequently lambasted. But also after reading the introduction to the new anthology & being reminded of some of the more antagonistic antics of the founding members, especially K., & comparing it with his more recent comments, I realized... He talked a big game about creating an alternative to the mainstream literary establishment, but he wasn’t really challenging the status quo or building anything new so much as he was another angry white male writer, who was bitter because he wasn’t the one making it big.

8. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about “underground” vs. “establishment,” especially when it comes to the arts. I’ve reached this point where I think it’s good to criticize the literary (or other) establishment for valid reasons (i.e., institutionalized racism, misogyny, classism, etc.), but to hate on an author solely because they’ve broken out a bit? Boring. Or even worse, to attack POC, LGBTQ people, women, disabled people, etc., who are like “uh, maybe just don’t call me a slur?” as enemies of free speech and art, and to claim that they’re now the ones upholding the establishment? Fuck off. Where was I going with this? IDK. I don’t think it’s inherently noble to labor in obscurity, but I’m also uninterested in making my art palatable to some mainstream (or even indie) ideal. I wanna make it on my own terms. I wanna make weird, rad art and put it out into the world along with other people’s weird, rad art. And make enough money off of it to help take care of my family, & support my press, & continue to make more art. (Well, ideally, I’d like no one to have to worry about making money at all, but ykwim.)

8.5. A writer acquaintance, the same one I mentioned back in May, who said that what I do with my press, even when I publish myself, isn’t self-publishing...she went on a Twitter rant not too long ago, telling young/emerging writers to never try and connect with anyone in the indie literary community, to just get their MFA & not look back. Now, I get where it stemmed from, because a few more people in the indie lit world have recently been outed as abusive creeps, & also she’s lamented before about not having her MFA. But when a few people politely tried to suggest that getting an MFA isn’t the right path for every writer, she said “getting an MFA is only a waste of time if you already can’t hack it as a writer.” I stayed out of it but I got irked... I mean sure, sometimes I think about getting an MFA in poetry/cross-genre writing, but that would solely be to deepen my craft. Up until I make that decision for certain, and have the means to do so, I’m doing just fine without one. There are so many reasons to not get one! What if your job that pays the bills is in a completely different field than writing, and you’re fine with that? What if you have managed to build a writing/writing-adjacent career without an MFA? Etc. TBH, though I have respect for her, I think I’m done engaging with her via social media. The things she says about self-publishing vs. traditional, MFA vs. non, indie writers vs. establishment writers, etc., make it very clear that she’s got a heavy case of imposter syndrome which she then tries to push off onto everyone else.

8.75. & yeah, it sucks every time someone in the indie lit community turns out to be a creep or rapist or a abuser or nazi or TERF or... But there are plenty of all those sorts of assholes in the literary establishment, too (if not more). There are shitty people in every group or scene. That doesn’t mean you abandon it altogether, though. Like, let’s weed out the assholes and abusers and build something even better!

9. Blah blah blah. Sorry for the rants & ramblings. I don’t have anyone to discuss this stuff with IRL right now, so I scribble it all on my sideblog where, like, two people read it. Anyway. Funny side note about fallings-out and the anthology: the piece F. (the guy who put it together) initially selected for it was a piece I’d written about the Great Year of 2004, about visiting Iowa with “Maggie” (aka whoever, aka my ex-bestie.) I asked him not to use that one,  because... It’s not that I think she’d see it, and even if she did so what? She already hates me. No, I asked him not to publish it because I’ve put enough writing about her out into the world already. Probably more than about any other old friend, excepting maybe “Filia,” and definitely more than I’ve written about any old flame. And I don’t wanna laud or lament her in my writing anymore. Of course I’ll still write about her. (Here I am, doing it now). But maybe I don’t wanna do it so publicly anymore.

10. But yeah. I’ve been thinking about old friends, what else is new? Thinking about F., who put the anthology together, and how it’s been 17 years that I’ve known him, nearly 17 years since we went on tour with the Perpetual Motion Roadshow. And earlier today, I was talking to someone about my friend A., & said that I’d known her for 20 years, & they said: “You have such a lot of deep connections with people.” And I guess I do. All these people I’ve known for somewhere between 5 to 20 years (or even more, in some cases). And guess what? 90% of them are people I met through zines and/or underground literature, punk and/or underground music, activist and/or arts communities. And those deep connections mean so much more to me than a degree or a publishing deal with a major press. Not that having those things wouldn’t be nice, too, but that I’d rather have the deep, long-lasting connections.

10.5. Which makes me think of things I’ve written in the past, about how many friends I’ve made through zines / all the action they’ve gotten me; about how my zines are basically just glorified personals ads. Which also makes me think about this patch, which I stumbled across a few months ago, and desperately need, but the shop is on hiatus right now, bummer.

11. I’ve also been thinking about my old pal J.P. Since having that techno music dream, I’ve been listening to a lot of Chemical Brothers, and I remembered how J.P. (who makes techno/electronic music) & “Beagan” & I used to have this inside ‘joke’ based on “Elektrobank.” One of us would say: “Who is this doin’ this...” And the other two would reply: “...synthetic type of alphabetapsychedelicfunkit?” And realizing I’ve known J.P. for 17 years, too. We’ve drifted out of each other’s lives for years at a time, but always, eventually, reconnected.

11.5. J.P. & I first met when we were both in our drunken slut phases, & yet we managed to have a totally platonic relationship. Well, almost totally platonic. We drunkenly made out once & then were mutually like: “That was...weird. Let’s not do that again, hey?”

12. It’s just. Friends like Maggie, who I thought I’d be riding side-by-side with for the long haul, they took themselves outta my life for good. Friends like J.P. & F. & A. & so many others...we’ve had disagreements, we’ve drifted apart for years at a time, but we always reconcile and reconnect, and I consider them true friends at this point. I guess you never know who’s a ride-or-die, do you?

(Lucky) 13. Totally unrelated thing: My mohawk is getting unwieldy & I’m already sick of it. I’m considering either just shaving my head entirely or leaving bangs / “sideburns” & doing the Chelsea fringe thing for the first time in 10.5 years. (Oh fuck, now that I’m thinking about a Chelsea cut I’m about to go deeply down a (ANTI-RACIST, OBVS) skinhead-nostalgia rabbit hole.)

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #252

my personal laptop has to be fixed, so therefore i don’t have games to play, so expect plenty of these to pass the time lmao.

Have you ever said something just to see what kind of reaction you’d get? No, not that I remember. Have you ever confronted someone about using too much chat-speak? ??? No??? Have you ever revealed someone’s secret, after promising not to tell? No. Secrets are one thing I'm very serious about respecting. What is one emotion that you experience regularly? STRESS, MOTHERFUCKER. Describe the last major change you made concerning your hairstyle? Lopped it all off, lmao. It's been like, two years now though. Who was the last person to walk out of your life, and why? It feels like my friend Alex. She's kinda just... left me hanging for months. I think she's active online, but not with me, despite reaching out. She's also deleted her b.net account or just removed me from her friends list, idk. Absolutely nothing seems like it would've prompted that, though. Are you less likely to approach people that look/dress a certain way? I was going to say no, but the last person's answer inspired mine to yes; like, I'm not going to go talk to people with some crazy or offensive shit on their shirts, nor am I going to just go walk up to someone covered in blood. Name one embarrassing activity that you take part in? I don't know. Like I say enough I'm VERY self-conscious of revealing I RP, but only because I'm sensitive to how the person will respond. I'm in no way like, ashamed I do it. I'm just terrified of judgment over something "unusual." Ever been told that you can’t understand love due to your age? Not that I remember. I only claimed to "get it" (to my recollection) at a point in mine and Jason's relationship, and I very legitimately would've guffawed at and honestly nearly slapped you if you claimed I "didn't understand" love. What is your favorite Starburst candy flavor? THE PINK ONES. Do you think that you act like yourself while online? I act more like myself online. Have you ever lied about something to get someone to like you? No. Who is the fakest person in your life right now? I don't keep those people in my life. Have you ever laid down in the grass, and made shapes out of the clouds? As a kiddo. When someone’s constantly negative, how do you deal with it? It depends on the person, but ALMOST in all cases, I really really try to support the person as best I can. It may start to bring me a bit down, but I feel I'm just like... hardwired to help those I love. I think it's what my relationship with Jason did, as he left because he couldn't handle my depression anymore, and with how that absolutely and utterly annihilated me, I don't want anyone else to feel that pain. Now, for people I don't have much of a bond with, it's easier for me to say "I'm sorry, but I can't handle this right now," but even then, I prefer to help. Does Christmas make you feel like a kid again? No. I'm really most excited for aunt reasons, lol. Do you have any artistic talent? Some. Would you ever shoplift from a store if you knew you wouldn’t be caught? Absolutely not. When one of your pets dies, how do you react? Usually cry. I've only ever not done so if I hadn't at all formed a bond with the animal. When you go to the movies, where in the theater do you sit? Close to the front, in the middle. When was the last time you lost your appetite? I don’t know. Have you ever neglected to take care of yourself? Er. Quite badly during '16, in the depth of my depression. I'll just say my teeth are kinda yellow because of it. I want to whiten my teeth at some point if I can afford that kind of luxury. The last song/poem/story you wrote - what was it about? In RP, the most recent section being written now is my main protagonists receiving a visit from their allies before getting their asses torn up the next day lmao. After a fight, who apologizes first - you, or the other person? Usually me, but it does depend. If I genuinely feel I didn't do jackshit wrong, no, I'm not apologizing. When you’re feeling creative, what do you do? Write. Do you mind being in your house alone overnight? Not really by now. Done so a number of times. Are there any dreams you remember from childhood? Nightmares, yes, and one very realistic dream. What worries you most about death? Not knowing what happens afterwards. Do you watch really old tv shows or movies from the 1970s or earlier? I love The Munsters, I Love Lucy, The Beverly Hillbillies, and The Addams Family. I'm sure there's more, considering I liked to watch stuff with my mom as a kid. Who’s your celebrity crush(es)? HHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG Ever been to a rave? No. Are you afraid to name the person you talk the most shit about? I don't really do that. Like I'll vent about people occasionally, but "talk shit" seems like the wrong word. I don't like gossiping. Are you a jealous person? Envious, rather, sometimes. I get VERY envious when it comes to photography, but otherwise, I don't feel it much. Who do you text the most out of your friends? Sara is like the only friend I text, lol. What would you do if you saw a complete stranger dealing drugs in public?
 Honestly, call an authority. I don't fuck with that. I'm not watching it happen. How often do you play video games? What are some of your favourites?
 I played World of Warcraft daily until my laptop took a shit. Need to get that fixed. Now I play actual video games very rarely... but mostly just because you can only replay the same ole game so many times before you've had enough of it for like a year. There are a great number of new games I want to play, though. I want a PS4 soooo badly. What are a few things that get on your nerves when it comes to Facebook (or your social networking site of choice)?
 More than anything, posting something that's crying for attention only for the person to be like "ugh I don't wanna talk about it." Then don't fucking post it. What are three things you’ve started to like lately? I feel like I haven't found new interests in a long time... Wait! I do feel The Handmaid's Tale and the Wings of Fire book Sara lent me have revived my love of reading! :') I want to go to the book store when I can and get both the new sequel to THT and the next WoF book. What was the last reason for having butterflies in your stomach?
 *shrug* Do you need a lot of space in relationships, or are you happy to spend a lot of time with your SO?
 I need SOME alone time, but for the most part I love being together. Once we're really close, anyway. What was the last thing you cooked from scratch? Scrambled eggs. Have you ever won anything from those games in arcades?
 Yeah. Funny story, there was this one time my sister won a stuffed duck from a claw machine, and it was the one I wanted after trying many times, and I cried so hard that one of the employees literally got one out for me lmfao. I probably still have it in the attic. When was the last time you went out to a fair?
 Not since right before the breakup. How far is the nearest zoo or wildlife park from your house? Do you go often?
 Like, two hours. We almost never go because of the distance. Are either one of your parents retired? If not, what do they do for a living?
 No. My dad's been a mailman all my life, and Mom is currently on disability because she has cancer and obviously can't work because of chemotherapy and all that. She was a pharmacy tech, though. If you could change one physical trait about yourself, what would it be?
 Can all this weight like vanish please. Have you ever gone out with someone you didn’t like?
 ????? Why would I do that???? Well, I didn't yet like-like Tyler because we hadn't been reunited as friends long enough; dating was kinda like... a dumb way to re-get to know each other? Thank fuck that was only two weeks. Would you ever take a bullet for your significant other? I'm single. Would you ever work at a fast food restaurant?
 No. History shows I can't work with people. Are you good at haunted houses, or do you scream your head off?
 AHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE!!!!!!!!!!! If you’ve seen it, what did you think of the Twilight movie?
 I never watched them. Have you ever gotten your tongue stuck on a frozen pole?
 No. Are you a cat or a dog person?
 Cat. Does the movie Titanic make you cry?
 Ha ha, yes. I watched it on movie day while at the psych hospital and all of us were lil bitches almost sobbing, lol. Because it's a long movie, it went past our allotted time, but the nurses decided to let us finish it because we were so into it. I do have some good memories from those times... Do you think that fat people should wear skinny jeans? I think people can wear whatever the fuck they want without fear of judgment. Do you prefer game systems like Xbox, or older ones like Super Nintendo? The former. Do you enjoy indie music? Yep! What is the most strange piercing you’ve ever seen? Those ones people were getting on their fingers instead of rings... just huh. What do you do when you’re waiting in line at the grocery store? Look around, I guess. Think. What is your favourite beach to go to? I haven't been to enough to know. Have you ever been to a country club? No. Have you ever seen an animal die in real life? Too many times. Animals have been euthanized in my arms, and a kitten slowly died in my hands once. One of the most heartbreaking things I have ever experienced. Teddy accidentally punctured its lungs or broke ribs, I think, or something like that. I'm pretty sure he was trying to bring it back to its siblings because it wandered off, but he held it too tightly. I was home alone, too. It was fucking awful. Do you live on a Rd, St, Blvd, Ln, Way, or Ave? Road. Do you have naked pictures of someone saved on your phone? No. Would you ever go see an opera? Bitch I played Parasite Eve, I don't trust that shit. But seriously, no, not my scene. Do you own anything John Deere? No. Do you have a push mower or a mower that you ride on? Neither. A friend mows for us; he has the latter. What is the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic for? No clue. I think during a trip to New York. Would you consider joining the air force, army, etc? No. Who was your first crush and what made them special? This kid named Dylan. I thought he was super cute and cool. What is one thing nobody knows about you because nobody ever cared to ask? I dunno. Who did you idolize growing up? Steve Irwin. Do you believe that we are all here for a reason? What might the reason be? No. Have you ever carved your name or initials into a tree or stone? No. What were your best and worst subjects in school or college? Best: English. Worst: math. Name something you would like to devote more time to seeing or doing. Writing poetry. Drawing. Do you like to get your nails done? No. Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? Yeah, IT. Do you like to wear dresses? Hell no with my current body. Do you like any ‘manly’ activities like hunting, fishing, or camping? I find fishing to be fun and relaxing, but because of morals, I can't stomach doing it anymore. What was the name of your first boyfriend? First with the title, Aaron. First *real* boyfriend, Jason. Your first kiss? Jason. Are you still with either of those people from the last 2 questions? No. Have you ever used your bra to hold things like you would a pocket? Ha ha no. I think. What is your longest relationship to date? Three years, 7-8 months. I don't remember if the breakup was in August or September. Who ended the last relationship you were in? It was kinda like... mutual-ish, but moreso her. Have you ever gotten back with an ex? No. Who was your first prom date? Jason. Do you cry during romantic movies? Sometimes. Who was the last person to see you cry? Mom. Have you ever been used? I don't think so romantically, but in other ways, I know I have been. Have you ever felt violated? Yes. Do you like when a guy takes you by surprise and kisses you? Not everyone likes guys, so what an assumption. But anyway, only if we're very serious and have heavy trust in one another. Do you ever leave the house without makeup? Pretty much always. When was the last time someone gave you flowers? Been a few years. What kind of gift can win you over? BITCH buy me something Mark-related and you earn like 20 points. Has anyone ever sung to you? Yes. Do you like massages? Depends on who you are. In almost any case, no. They're awkward. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No. Do you sleep naked? No. Is smoking a turn-off? Yes. Is there a certain tv show you get upset if you miss? No. When was the last time you spent the night at someone else’s house? When I was at Sara's a year or so back. What is one food you always crave? Ice cream. Are you an exercise freak? Hunny- What scares you more, spiders or snakes? Snakes don't scare me, so spooders. Do you expect to be married in the next two years? No. Would you ever get implants? Nah. Have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend? No. Have you ever had a crush on a friend’s sibling? No. Are you more of a 'girly girl’ or a 'tomboy’? A tomboy. Have you ever dated someone with a child? No. Are you addicted to texting? No.

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/ Hello CRMediaGal and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many of our members will know your Unquestionable Love series. 

We’re grateful you can spend some time with us today. 

Okay, so let's jump into it!

What’s the story behind your pen name?

CR is an abbreviation for “cracked rendition” and that comes from the excerpt from a poem I’ve loved since I was young. Years ago, to help put myself through art college, I did web design on the side and called my little company Cracked Rendition Designs. When I created my pen name, I combined all of these elements together to make CRMediaGal (for some illogical reason I thought it was a solid name at the time lol) and, to this day, I still think about changing my pen name altogether.  I figure it’s too late for that now, though. 

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Luna Lovegood. I wish I’d had her self-assurance and confidence in who she is at that age but, that aside, I identify with how she’s a bit of a loner, an oddball, and tends to be left out (or does until she finds her Hogwarts friends). I’ve really struggled with being an outsider most of my life, so it’s comforting to see that representation in literature but through a young woman who possesses the self-confidence people like myself often lack. 

Do you have a favourite genre to read? 

I tend to love period dramas, so a lot of the classic novels are my favourites (i.e. Austen, Henry James, etceteras).  

Do you have a favourite “classic” novel?

The Portrait of a Lady is one of my favourite novels.  I reread it every couple of years.  

At what age did you start writing? 

I’ve been writing since I was very little, so probably seven, eight, nine-ish? I used to be much more of an artist/sketcher than a writer, so I’d make up stories and write and sketch and staple them together all day long lol. 

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

After watching Deathly Hallows: Part 2 at the cinema in 2011.  Severus Snape’s death hit me hard all over again (I hadn’t read the last book in a few years), and I decided that I desperately needed to change that for myself lol.  Unquestionable Love is the first fanfic (SSHG) I ever wrote and it’s become an ongoing series, so I’m grateful to have gotten the “spark” to write fanfic from somewhere around that time.  I decided in 2011 to try my hand at “fleshing out” my little Snape family that had been mucking about in my head for much longer than that.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I’m a total sucker for the brooding, self-loathing male who thinks himself unworthy of love and redemption and the sunshine, kick-arse lady, aka Centre of His World, who loves him back to life. #GimmeMorePleaseandThankYou

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

I’ve written fics for Star Wars (ReyBen/Reylo is another one of my favourite ships outside of SSHG), The Hobbit (Thranduil/Tauriel), and Les Miserables (Enjonine). 

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

Severus Snape’s death (he’s NOT dead! #nope #denial4ever). 

My favourite piece of fanon is probably Severus being Draco’s godfather. Regardless of where it originated from, I’m all for it. 

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? 

I used to need complete solitude and quiet to write, but nowadays I can write with some instrumental music playing in the background.  It depends on where my headspace is at. 

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? 

I don’t read much fanfic anymore, as it’s hard enough for me to find time for my own writing…but off the top of my head, I’d probably have to go with a “classic” - The Tattered Man (SSHG) by Aurette.  It’s gutting and heart-wrenching and doesn’t have a happy ending, but it’s a hauntingly beautiful piece that stays with you. 

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I’m somewhere in the middle. I tend to plot out certain points I want to hit from chapter to chapter (if it’s a multi-chapter fic and heavy on plot, for instance), but writing is an organic process and I enjoy allowing my muse to surprise me as well.

What is your writing genre of choice? 

A good mixture of Angst and Fluff (and nearly always with a HEA!) 

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? 

I’m proud of all my stories for different reasons, mainly technical milestones I was able to achieve with the writing or the emotional attachments I had to them at the time that I wrote them.

If I had to choose one (or two because I gotta cheat here haha!), I’d go with either Unto Their Own (SSHG) because the subject matter was so dark and took me to places mentally that were very tough for me to navigate (the fact that I finished that fic is an achievement for me because it could have very well been abandoned at various points in the story); or Unquestionable Love (SSHG), both the original and the series as a whole, because that story has my heart entirely invested in it.  That precious family means everything to me and the story, from beginning to present, is my headcanon for the SSHG pairing.  I really can’t see them any other way, though I’ve written other stories where their lives turn out quite differently. 

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Sticking with Unquestionable Love here, the original story came together mostly as expected, though there were a couple darker turns the fic was supposed to take that I didn’t have the heart--or the stamina, I suppose--to end up developing.  

One of my dear OCs/one of the daughters was supposed to die at one point in the story and I realised that doing so would have ultimately changed Severus’s fate, as well as the entire course of the storyline.  (There is just no way that UL!Severus would survive the death of one of his children, so I guess I’m no JK Rowling or any other esteemed writer who can just ruthlessly kill off their characters haha!) I’ve learned through writing this series that I can tackle subject matters that are very emotionally tough for me and that’s a good feeling.  

I’ve also learned that I have something to say, even if it’s not much heard or well-liked, and that that still makes my storytelling worthy of being out there in the fandomverse; or, at least, I try to remind myself that it’s okay to exist.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

It’s intensely personal in some respects and those aspects are difficult for me to discuss.  I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to talk about them in depth, but I will say a couple scenes in the latter half of Unquestionable Love were incredibly trying to write due to personal experience. I pushed through those moments, though, and I think that, because of that therapeutic exercise, I’m able to tackle other tough subjects in my stories more easily. 

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I admire various writers, mainly for the love of the language that’s reflected in their writing styles.  Anne Rice immediately comes to mind.  If I had an ounce of her talent, I’d write with so much confidence lol. I don’t think writers like her necessarily affect my writing style, but they’re certainly people I aspire to write more like.  

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? 

Only more recently.  I haven’t really allowed any of them to read my work, as so much of it is deeply personal, but just being upfront with my closest friends and family has been a nice development.   

How true for you is the notion of “writing for yourself”? 

I think this is something, as a fic writer, that’s essential.  However, I’m also of the mindset that fandom is about community, and fanfic writers want to engage with their audiences.  We want to feel less alone in these wacky and often times complicated scenarios we put our characters through, and we want people to respond to them...hopefully, with a positive reaction. 

That’s what it’s all about--interaction--and it can be rather heartbreaking, as a writer, when you don’t receive engagement because maybe your headcanons or takes on characters aren’t popular or are considered outside of the ‘norm’. 

For me, I find it too crippling anymore to continue sharing my stories with the fandoms I love when they’re met with silence or hate.  There’s nothing more soul crushing than just being dismissed or disliked or not accepted...and that’s why I’ve chosen to post my stories privately (for now, at least).

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

It’s pretty essential to me to be able to engage with readers.  I absolutely love it and I wish it happened more often haha.  I used to run polls and interact with readers on my fanfiction.net and AO3 accounts (both now inactive) and through my still active Tumblr account (http://crmediagal.tumblr.com/ ).  I now have my own website - www.crmediagal.com - where I can fully control the flames and negativity. 

It may be temporary but, so far, it’s working out pretty well.  It’s made my readership a lot smaller but, at least, I know the people who are there genuinely want to read more of my work and won’t leave me hate comments.  That’s so comforting and encouraging.  

What would you most like your readers to take away with them when they've finished your stories?

A powerful message of some kind...remembrance...perhaps, suggest one or two of them to other readers and shippers out there.  

That’s the only way our stories survive, really. 

What is the best advice you’ve received about writing?

That you need to protect your “voice”, no matter how unpopular it may be, and that there is no one else who writes like you and that you should take pride in that.  

I try to remind myself of these important pointers when I’m feeling particularly down about my storytelling abilities. 

What do you do when you hit writer’s block?

Watch my favourite films or television shows to help re-spark my creativity.  I come back to the writing when it ‘speaks’ to me.  I no longer press myself to push out writing because, more often than not, the result is going to get tossed and reworked anyhow.  

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yes, certain experiences and people I’ve encountered in my life have definitely wound up in some of my stories.  

Many of my OCs in different stories are examples of that. 

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? 

I’m working on a new SSHG story that’s based off of a fun prompt from a dear, long-time reader.  

It will start posting at my website - www.crmediagal.com - in the coming weeks/months, so if anyone would like access to it, you can contact me there.  

Here’s a short excerpt:

Cradling his head in his hand, Severus stomped to his front door and opened it a crack, jostling the handle loud enough that it caught three people’s attention, the woman firstly before the others.  

“What’s the bloody idea?” he snarled, shouting above them.  

Each individual—two wizards and one witch—went mute and turned to stare from the neighbouring sidewalk.  

“I’ll have you know that this is a quiet street!  And I was sleeping!”  When the guests next door to him, who were just towing the property line and about to get themselves knocked out, offered no response, he prodded, grinding his teeth together, 

“Are you daft, you fools?  Do you not comprehend?  HEY!”

The two gentlemen, who appeared to be fresh out of Hogwarts—or maybe they hadn’t gotten that far in their magical studies, judging by the stupidity on their expressions—startled and nodded in unison.  

“Yes, sir!”

“Oh, my...” the witch, in turn, murmured, seemingly more to herself than anyone else.

Severus identified her vacant, open-mouthed expression at once: she recognised him.  As of yet, he had little recollection as to who she might be and didn’t give a damn.  He kicked his door open the rest of the way with his boot, jostling the three near trespassers backward a few more paces, and stalked down his steps and onto his sidewalk. 

That was when he finally understood the reason behind all of the commotion: one of the branches to the old oak tree that shielded his stoop, and had been there since the earliest days he could recall of his childhood, had crashed onto the pavement, cracking the sidewalk in half. 

A part of his iron fence, too, had crumbled under the weight of the broken branch, and there was an assortment of boxes, some severely banged up, scattered across his property. 

“What the...?  That’s my tree you idiots hit!  And my bleedin’ fence...!”

“I - I’m sorry, sir,” stammered the witch with wildly curly hair and worrisome brown eyes, hastily stepping forward to intervene.  

“I’ve been trying to figure out how this happened—”Severus turned his glare on her.  

“And who are you?”  The seemingly thirty-something woman blushed to her roots, which he couldn’t account for, until she spoke in a faint, insecure whisper, 

“Um, Hermione, sir...  Hermione Weasley.  Oh, gosh, I mean, I - I was Hermione Weasley until...”  She cleared her throat and attempted to reintroduce herself, flushing in such a manner that it flaunted dainty-looking freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose.  Had she always had those?  Severus couldn’t remember.  

“Oh, bother!  It’s Hermione Granger, Professor.  Surely, you...you remember me?”Severus went as rigid as a column.  

“Oh, for fuck’s sake...” he blurted aloud before he could stop himself. Hermione blinked, taken aback.  

“I’m sorry?”Severus’s shock morphed into a tight-fitting sneer.  

“I thought I was done with the lot of you.”

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Try not to get too discouraged by lack of reviews or not making the recommendations lists.  Keep persevering and know that someone out there, even if it’s just one reader, will love what you have to share with the world.  

Thanks for spending some time with us today CRMediaGal, we’ve enjoyed getting to know you.

[twopoppies]

I always wonder since you read a lot of fics (like me) can you name your top 5 or top 10??? I'm so curious 😣😣

Oh anon, this is so hard for me to answer. I’m always so impressed by people who can just spout off their favorite 5 fics. I don’t think I can narrow it down like that! There are a bunch of the “classics” that I love but I feel like they get reccd so often. So, I’m going  to try and list some fics I’ve read recently that I love and that are by people who are (hopefully) still active in this fandom.  As a side note, almost all of these authors have multiple fics I loved….if you like these, check out the rest of them!

My Recently Read Top 10

Lambing Season by @helloamhere (M, 25k)

“Shut up,” Louis says, an involuntary grin tugging at his mouth. It’s not every boy who will stand in the middle of a cold barn in a suit and play musician trivia. “I’m Louis.”

//lambing season brings sleep deprivation, noisy alarms, cold barns, demanding animals, and warm strangers.

The Road Less Travelled By by @freetheankles (E, 98K)

Louis was a lumberjack happy to be living his life alone in what could qualify as Middle Of Nowhere, Canada.

Every morning, he went out into the woods, cut his logs, then came home at dusk to a scalding hot shower and a good book by the fireplace. Rinse and Repeat. He had a good life, quiet and peaceful; simple. Not a secluded one as Niall annoyingly claimed.

Louis certainly didn’t need some chatty trespasser dropping into his life, his forest, his home. Invading his space, his circle of friends, touching his stuff, asking questions about his husband. His late husband.

A trespasser who wasn’t supposed to crawl under his skin, occupy his thoughts, and steal his heart from where Louis had locked it safely away, only to put it right back on Louis’ sleeve — where it once laid.

No, Louis definitely didn’t need Harry.

just call me inspiration by @hereforlou (E, 52K)

The truth is Louis knows he’s going to hell, if there is such a thing, but it isn’t because he writes erotic fiction for a living. If anything, it’s because his muse, the reason he’s inspired to write about people shagging in increasingly creative ways everyday, is the sweetest, loveliest, most genuine (and completely oblivious) future children-book illustrator in the world.

(Or, the one where Louis is a writer, Harry is an art student, and they inspire each other in very different ways.)

bloodsport by @twofiveohfive (E, 40K)

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

where your lips land by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite (E, 12K)

A love story told through Louis’ tattoos.

… or the Tyler Knott Gregson-inspired AU where Louis is a poet who lives in Montana and Harry is a photographer passing through.

From the poem: “I put new ink where your lips have landed/I cover your kisses with reminders” – TKG

Promise in the Sky by Throwthemflowers / @hazzabeeforlou (E, K)

AU in which Harry Styles, a naïve, repressed, socially awkward Midwestern highschooler tries to navigate his fundamentalist evangelical parents and radically progressive older sister. He’s doing an okay job of this until the Tomlinson family starts attending Lakeside Baptist Church and a boy named Louis changes everything. Harry is forced to come to grips with his true self when Louis becomes more than just his best friend; but their relationship opens a can of worms and sends them on the most painful, heartbreaking journey of their young lives. They risk everything and nearly lose, and Harry learns that perhaps only one Bible verse is true: that perfect love casteth out fear.

For Reasons Wretched and Divine by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 95K)

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

An AU in two parts. Two boys, two stories, and hopefully, two chances at love.

precious little thing by mercutionotromeo (E, 21K)

Reason #10 - Curiosity

Niall grins deviously and hits “make call”, putting his phone on speaker. They lean in close to peer down at the screen, heads knocking lightly together. Dull rings reverberate quietly around the room and mix with the monotonous buzz of the lights. It rings for a while - maybe six or seven times - then the other line picks up.

There’s a slow, steady inhale, and a low voice purrs, “Hi, sexy.”

Jesus - this guy has barely said two words, and both of them have made Harry’s cock twitch in his jeans. That’s not even getting to what those words are, and why he’s saying them, and how Harry’s stomach is dropping into his shoes at the mere thought of him saying… other words. Words like “cock”, and “please”, and “come”.

Also known as: a university AU featuring phone sex operator Louis, copious amounts of sweet, soft kink discovery, and Louis being Harry’s Daddy.

I’ll Be Your Love Tonight by dinosaursmate / @catfishau

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to walk away from you.”“So don’t.” Harry ran a fingertip over Louis’ thigh. “Stay with me.”-It’s the summer of 1999 and Louis Tomlinson has been abandoned at a house party. A dispute over Smirnoff Ice and several night buses later, Louis is unsure how he’ll ever walk away from this lovely, curly-haired boy.

everything suspended by @louisandthealien

It’s 8:50 when Zayn pops his head around the corner of Harry’s cubicle.

“Dude, I really can’t talk right now. If I don’t finish this report—“

“You hear about that plane crash?”

Harry stops short. “— what?”

“Louis works in that area doesn’t he?”

“What?” Harry’s hand is frozen in midair, halfway towards scratching his neck.

“Yeah, some plane just rammed into one of the Twin Towers, I guess. Ben is—“

Harry’s blood doesn’t run cold and his heart doesn’t skip a beat. The wind isn’t knocked out of him and his stomach doesn’t drop.

He’s mostly just confused.

You can also check my larry fic rec and my fic rec tags to see other fics I reccommend!

[leswansong]

Chapter Fifteen - Adrinette April - Notes for You

Day 15 - Love Rivals

Read it on A03? –> [ Click Here ] 

AN: Poems at the end again...

Valentines Day, The day he had been patiently waiting for, the day he had planned for, he would wait until lunch to slip the roses and note into her locker, most people would hand out their cards before lunch leaving his the last to arrive, he wouldn’t have to worry about someone else pushing a card through the small metal grates knocking over his little set up, there was still a slim chance it may happen but the odds were in his favour, his last 4 notes gave her little hints about himself, he hoped yesterday’s note would narrow down her list but keep her guessing long enough until after lunch for her to see the final note. It had taken him several hours to get the black ink from his fingers and he had to rewrite it several times because it wasn’t perfect, it was the last letter, the envelope was larger, it was go big or go home at this point, he took one final look at the words before pushing it into the prepared envelope, he had stolen his father’s wax seal kit several weeks before and purchased some pastel pink wax to go with it, he carefully lit the tea light and held the wax over it watching it slowly melt, then he poured the wax onto the page and pressed down with the stamp, his family crest was firmly imprinted into the now dry wax only just visible in the morning sunlight. He took extra care when placing the pink rose in the strong tin metal box, he needed to keep it hidden until he could deliver it.

Marinette was unsure, Thursday, February 14th or more commonly known as Valentine’s Day, the last letter would arrive today, his hints hadn’t been helpful at narrowing who he was and she really didn’t know if she was going to go ahead with the plans she had tried to make for Chat and her. Her heart had left her confused, she wanted to get to know the boy who had managed to sweep her off her feet with loving and kind words of poems and telling her more and more about himself in the little notes he had left and the end, she lived now to see the little notes at the end of the poems to find out more about her secret Valentine, but the other was still tightly pulling her towards her partner, the sweet kind boy who even though she stuttered never pushed her to finish her sentences faster, he waited, never interrupting her. Chat was more than kind to her, he had put himself in more danger than he should have on more than one occasion, they were the only times she had to restrain herself from ever striking him for his foolishness, she wanted to kick and scream and tell him that he couldn’t be doing such dangerous stunts without thinking what it would do to her, how she hated seeing even the smallest of cuts across his pale face, but her Partner was interested in another, it didn’t stop her from trying though. Marinette collapse back into bed today was probably the toughest day of her life, how would she choose between the two.

The Black hair with blue frosted tips, Luka Coffine, she just had to bump into him, she really wanted to get to her locker to see if Day 14 had arrived.

“Hey Marinette, It’s nice to see you,” he wasted no time skipping the small talk, “Look I was wondering if you would like to watch a movie with me sometime, it’ll be great just the two of us…”

The way the sentence trailed off unnerved her a little, but Luka… She never knew he liked her, was he the one leaving the letters in her locker, he had been hanging around it lately roughly around when they would appear but Julika’s locker as nearby so he could have been waiting for her.  He had black hair matching one of her hints and the others seemed to fit him, she would have to file that one away for later right now she had to be kind and sweet Marinette not ‘I’m trying to find out who’s been leaving me letters for the past 13 days and you might be him,’ Marinette. So she smiled told him that she was unfortunately busy with her parents with a non-existent wedding that needed an absurd number of baked goods and that she wouldn’t be available for the next few days.

“That’s too bad maybe some other time than?”

She nodded her head and said goodbye continuing to her locker only to be greeted with disappointment, No day 14 yet, she grabbed hold of the books she needed and headed up towards class.

No, No, No. How could he have been that silly, of course, Luka liked her that's why he was asking questions about her, Adrien wanted nothing more than to go back in time and slap his younger self, and the clues… He would fit the clues he had left behind for her, Sport - rowing, Plays and instrument - Guitar, Likes Jagged stone, has Black hair or green eyes, O God, his plan was falling apart, he needed to fix it. No… No… The letter, The letter, he had to deliver the letter and rose before lunch, it was the last step, he didn’t have to worry about the other guys, he had seen Nathaniel try to slip his card into her locker just before class, just because Luka hadn’t played his cards yet didn’t mean his plan was ruined, he had time to fix the new creases in the silk cloth, they just had to be ironed out a little that's all. ‘You can fix this Adrien,’ he needed to stay positive just because there were other rivals and one or two he didn’t count on didn’t mean he wouldn’t come out on top today.

Nathaniel, he was a shy artist, someone Marinette didn’t talk to much because he turned practically turned into her when she is around her partner but that was beside the point, she had seen him with a white envelope this morning and hers had yet to be delivered, she went over the clues in her head and the poems they had come with.

Black hair or green eyes,

Enjoy’s harry potter, (the poem would suggest a book reader)

He plays an instrument,

Participates in extra activities sport, (which one she did not one)

Listens to Jagged Stone enough to know his more obscure songs,

Neat handwriting, although it could be practised

And somehow knows her locker combo but nobody has seen anyone open or shut her locker but herself.

Nathaniel didn’t exactly match up to this list, so it was a no… but she didn’t know him that well maybe he did do all that stuff in his spare time.

-=======+=========-

Marinette lazily opened her locker, she was actively listening to the story Alix was currently telling and didn’t notice the envelope.

“So there I was-“

“Marinette!” her Kwami urgently whispered, “The Letter!”

She looked over, a Pale pink rose sat in her locker a bow had been tied to the stem in the same colour she gently lifted it out of her locker, the stem had no trace of any thorns as if they had been carefully taken off, she brought it to her nose breathing in the sweet aroma before setting it back down to read her final letter, her friends were now the furthest thing from her mind

A Pink rose is for the one,

Where love has blossomed and bloomed,

Where passion and purity,

With love and peace,

Combines and grows,

That brings forth the Pink rose,

Of the Red rose,

And of the White Rose,

When both entwine,

Comes the Pink rose,

For all the blushing brides,

When the proposal is asked,

With the Pink rose as a sign,

Is one asking another,

In love and loves first

Red and White,

That all will show,

And carry a wedding bouquet,

Are all the Blushing brides to be,

For the Pink rose if for the one,

Where love has blossomed and bloomed,

Representing passion and purity,

That has love and peace,

Combining and growing,

From two different in colour,

One extreme to another,

From the Red and the White,

That combine,

And show true love,

A Pink rose evolves,

Showing true love,

It shows in its splendour of Pink,

For the blushing bride to be,

So to say,

'I do',

When the question is popped,

On this Valentines Day,

Valentine's Day,

A day of proposals,

Where it is asked,

From one to another,

'Will you be mine',

From this Valentine's Day,

On to,

The next,

And,

The next,

And,

Thereafter.

-Ellen Ni Bheachain

By now Princess I hope you know who I am, I’ve tried for a very long time to tell you how I feel none of these attempts never seemed to work, so I tried a different approach. The brazen pickup lines, at first I thought they were working but I quickly realised that they made me come off as less genuine as if I thought this was a game. Marinette I… I Have loved you since we stood out in that rainstorm and the umbrella closed around you, you were the first person to make me laugh in a very long time and it was effortless, I soon found a lot more to love, too many to count, my heart at times feels as if its going to leap out of my chest and run a marathon when I’m around you and I understand… I understand if you don’t feel the same way but I had to tell you, I couldn’t keep this hidden anymore, so please don’t keep me waiting, whether its returned feelings or heartbreak I face I need to know so please find me with haste Princess it has been a painful 14 days…

-Your Secret Valentine, Adrien Agreste

She had to go, screw plans with Alya and everyone else she... she had to go, she had to go see her Chaton, he probably assumed she had forgotten the nickname he had given her on her rooftop and… no she could think about this later she could think about how her partner had been sitting next to her for nearly over 3 weeks now and how blind she was, she just needed to go, she grabbed her purse and took of towards the little red dot on her map, her best friend yelled but she ignored her, she ran, she ran faster than she thought she ever had her excitement pushing her over the edge, her heart had been torn between two and they were now one, they weren’t competing against each other for her heart, she didn’t have to choose which one she wanted more, in a few short minutes she saw the outline of the Saint Lazare Train Station, the clock sitting in the centre screaming the time at her reminding her he was waiting.

A flash went off inside the building and she saw him, “Adrien!” She pushed her legs to go further and faster, she needed them to go faster, “Adrien!” Why did his latest photoshop have to be here, a busy crowded train station, she kept pushing herself to go faster, “Adrien!” she yelled again she could hear her own desperation in her voice.

The blond mop of hair she had been following disappeared into the crowd of people, he didn’t seem to have heard her panicked cries for him. She started to hyperventilate her excitement was now gone, the crowd grew larger and larger around her, men and women hurried past trying to get to their train or work, she sunk to the floor cradling her head in her lap trying to remember the phrase she used to say in her head to calm herself down. She rocked back and forth, she needed to remain calm so her mind did the first thing it could, sing. She hummed a tune she couldn’t remember where it had come from only that it was bringing her comfort. Her ears were ringing, she couldn’t hear anything but her humming, the sound of the feet around her was non-existent to her ears, she was being swallowed, she couldn’t breathe, she needed to get out, she needed… she needed...

“Marinette… Marinette, shhh, I’m here, shh, princess, I’m here.”

His voice slowly faded in through her thoughts, his arms wrapped around her slim frame and lifted her up and out of the suffocating crowd, she clung tightly to him afraid to let go afraid to go back to the fast-moving crowd. He continued to whisper his soothing words calming her even more than the freedom of the crowd.

When her mind fog cleared, she was sitting on a park bench, she could hear the birds in the giant oak tree branches above her chirping away, there was the distant sound of the city but they weren’t close, the green Kikuyu grass tickled her feet, a soft breeze flowed through her hair, it had been released from the twin tails it normally sat in.

“Adrien?”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah… Crowds, they…”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

She ignored his words, “I lost you in the crowd and I couldn’t catch up and I- I-“

“It’s okay Mari,” he gently placed his hand on top of hers, “take your time.”

“I haven’t had a panic attack in years, I guess I was a little unprepared.”

“Marinette I was wondering and I know now isn’t the time but I-“

“Yes, yes to whatever you are about to ask because you didn’t have to use all those poems or use someone else’s words, what you said at the end of the letter was enough Adrien.”

“You didn’t see the notebook.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to see it then.”

The two sat in silence for a while, unsure of what to say to each other as the blue sky turned into one of shades of orange and pink.

“I never took any of your flirting seriously,” she had had little time to reflect.

“It was worth it."

“Even…” She took a deep breath, "After all this time?” she brought the pink rose up to her nose breathing in the sweet scent, she allowed him to lead her down the street towards her home.

"Always,” he replied with a smirk.

He face changed in an instant as she realised what it was from, “Adrien Agreste don’t you dare quote Harry Potter at me,” She yelled angerly swatting his shoulder if she had had her sketchbook she surely would have thrown it at him and him giggling like a school girl only made it worse, “Stop Laughing!” she yelled through her own giggles, why did his laughter have to be contagious.

Poem - [ x ]

AN: if this sounds a little stalkerish I wrote this while watching You on Netflix. Note to self choose something less… creepy to watch while writing.

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[bitchesofostwick]

writer’s questionnaire

tagged by @a-shakespearean-in-paris​ thank you!! :)

short stories, novels, or poems? i prefer writing short stories, tbh. i love my longfic but i’m writing it long because it’s a story that needs to be told start to finish, in it’s entirety. but i prefer (and believe i’m better at) writing shorter, briefer moments. you can do so much and tell so much in a small space when you put your mind to it.

what genre do you prefer reading? i hate saying this, but i haven’t read a book for fun since before college. literature was one component of my major, and assigned reading drained any desire i ever had to pick up a book. i miss it, and i’ll go back to them one day, but for now, i stick to fics only. in terms of genre there...damn, there’s a time and a place for smut and i do love to indulge in that from time to time, but i will lay my life down for hurt/comfort fics. i will die for them. like...catch me on any given night crying over a hurt/comfort story, i literally do it all the time.

what genre do you prefer writing? angst and hurt/comfort! i love fluff and i love happy endings but like...the realism of writing anger and angst and tension and heartbreak is so compelling to me. give your characters flaws. write scenes that hurt and make your heart ache. write conflicts. that’s how they learn and become better people, and that’s what makes all the fluff so much sweeter later on.

are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person? a planner! my longfic is well outlined, and all of my one shots are well thought out in advance.

what music do you listen to while writing? nooooooo music (as much as i usually love it). but i do write well with background noise, like having sports on TV or something.

fave books/movies? see the above comment about books (the last series i read was a song of ice and fire in high school lol). movies? i have so many, and a lot of them definitely influence my writing. all of the star wars episodes i-vi and the two spinoffs, sergio leone’s dollars trilogy (my love for westerns shows in my OCs’ constant need for revenge), atonement, gone with the wind, most tarantino movies (this shows in my OCs too tbh...beatrix kiddo? big emilia mood), goodfellas, hercules, mulan, the lion king, full metal jacket, never let me go, much ado about nothing, coco, both mamma mia movies, definitely many more that i just can’t think of but those are some Big Faves.

any current WIPs? yes! my ongoing longfic, A World Alone, as well as an art trade fic.

if someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be? a plain long-sleeved black dress with lacy tights, boots, and a flannel + my oversized denim jacket.

create a character description for yourself: tones of gold, and dark and brown eyes that let on more of her feelings than she thinks. 

do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing? not directly, other than myself. otherwise, i’ll pull bits and pieces and traits from other people, but never their entire personalities.

are you kill-happy with characters? nooooo. i only have one non-canon death planned (and it’s a non-canon character anyway). otherwise, my OCs go through enough shit without me killing someone off.

coffee or tea while writing? tea! i tend to do most of my writing in the late morning and afternoon, which would be after i have my morning coffee or two.

slow or fast writer? slow. sure, i can write a 3k chapter in one sitting. but that “one sitting” is going to be a three- or four-hour ordeal.

where/who/what do you find inspiration from? myself and my own experiences, first and foremost. but i am also truly and genuinely inspired by other fic writers, both here on tumblr and fics i’ve stumbled upon on ao3.

if you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be? probably a bard! always collecting secrets and tales but still having that rogue-ish aspect.

most fave book cliche? least fave book cliche? i love LOVE fake relationships, mutual pining because they’re too shy/dumb to confess feelings, and caretaking (like one is sick/injured and the other cares for them). least favorites? love triangles, and equating “strong female character” with “emotionless female character who happens to be good at punching stuff.”

fave scenes to write? minimal dialogue/action scenes where the narration is based in one character’s thoughts, emotions, actions and observations.

most productive time of day for writing? late morning through late afternoon. any later and i tend to ramble a bit. i’ll READ fic late into the night, but i tend to stop writing after dinnertime if i can.

reason for writing? i used to love it and i’m trying to love it again (i’m mostly there, but you know). and because i’m so in love with my own OCs--and when you want something done right, you need to do it yourself!

phew! that was long haha. @dickeybbqpit @veridium-bye @fourletterepithet @gingerbreton @daydreamingdragonage @trvelyans

[yihrae]

I recently had an episode (many of you would probably know) that made me question my stability as a person on a whole. Did the inertia of my movement in life depend solely on the mass of my interpersonal relationships? I questioned - in an overly emotional manner - the whole drive behind my desire to be satisfied with my state of affairs as I say it now. This morning I woke up and did, as any heartbroken person might do, after the sixth day of heartbreak, read through old texts. Did I gain anything? I'd say I did. I found a lot of solace because I grasped the situation so much better. And also maybe because I've given a lot of tears and time to recover my mental state (and a lot of krnb). That aside, it helped me realise how stagnant objects tend to dissolve into nothing, because, coincidentally referenced two poems ago, the neutrality of time sides to none. And that itself is an acceptable notion I've come to love and accept.

There are times to pursue this, and times to pursue that. And I may be in one of the rarest time periods right now as I type this, for reference, what one may refer to the "golden hour" during the day, wherein the sun is an utter singularity of beauty, elegance and grace, I, sitting here now, am also viewing my life in that very same manner. I suppose you may also refer to this as the sharpening of the lens of the previously blurred imagery. However I am aware this ephemeral state of mind, where the emphasis of lighting falls upon the greener side of grass, holds little permanence. So I pen my thoughts.

The narrative here, pardon the digression in the previous paragraph, lies within the understanding of determinism. Determinism is ridiculous, the existence of fate is akin to the existence of the loch ness monster. A fairy tale. But there however are events that are much more likely to occur than other events. That is one thing I now must comprehend and accept. There does not lie tragedy in events (spare you view it as such), there only lies a keen understanding and a lesson gained. Am I lying? To my heart perhaps. Am I being realistic. To my mind perhaps. Is this whole outlook, however, pragmatic? Yes. Twenty times yes. There will be certain frames of life we miss that can only be captured in snapshots. Is that really such a bad thing? I've gained so much from this episode I wouldn't put it past anything to have it not happen. I can only bask in the wisdom I hope it'll carry over.

To address resolution, was my breakdown a farce? No. Those were real, genuine, raw emotions that poured out of my soul as hot water may pour from springs. I felt that way and still feel that way today. Am I, however, viewing these feelings in a different light now? Slightly. Ever so slightly so. Golden hour is ending and so I may return to almost the exact same state I was in before this message. But I cannot help but thank everyone that helped me to realise certain things. Relief is temporary. Pain is temporary. So is wisdom. Most things are temporary. I may have to let that sit with me. ... Oh it's over. The feelings have resurfaced. But I suppose that's alright. The cogs of life will crush and grind at my feeble bones just because it desires so. The only true revenge any human may seek is to laugh in the face of the abyss and the grand machinations of the universe as they crush your already crushed being. Is that ridiculous? Yes. Is that unfair? Yes. A thousand times so. But the universe could care as much about you as you may care about the speck of dust in the corner of your room. Lest I fall prey to love and death, I will make it through this eventually. There is no better positive self-reinforcement than the power of sheer introspection. Although I'll profess I've gone through this cycle twenty times over.

[parniarazi]

It’s been about 2 weeks since I got back from visiting Iran, and I am still processing so much from my experiences there. It was a beautiful trip and I am so grateful to be able to travel, see new places, reconnect with my roots, and learn. I am grateful that everything went smoothly and we went/returned safely. It’s hard to put into words what this experience meant to me, it was in many ways something I really needed at this point in my life. I’m almost 21 years old, and had not been back to the country I was born in since I was 8. As an American-Iranian, many of us share similar stories. Living in our priviledged, bubble-lives in America, it’s easy to forget the stories, the struggles, and the beauty of our country. It’s easy to take for granted the freedom, privileges, and access to resources we have here. Most of all, this trip gave me a deeper sense of gratitude for my life. Not because I look down on people in Iran, or think my life is better than theirs. In fact, I look up to them for living the beautiful, vibrant lives that they do. Traveling gives you a sense of oneness with world, with realizing nothing is good or bad, that there is so much nuance and grey area that we need to dive into. Without assumptions or judgement, but with a broadened sense of global perspective and understanding. 

Politics are one thing, but I want to talk about and see the human perspective. Seeing things firsthand is so different from reading about them, there is an undeniable sense of human-ness you can only feel through the firsthand. Iran is currently going through one of the hardest socio-economic times in its history. It’s a country that has been through so much, from an Empire, to monarchy, to an Islamic Republic, there is so much history there. As for today, it’s a country of perseverance. Of love. Of depth, art, and beauty. Despite problems of over-population, unemployment, pollution, and drought, there is still a vibrance, a light-heartedness, and a sense of humor that flows through the city. 

The majority of the people disagree with and are against most of the Islamic government’s actions and policies. They believe the government is a source of oppression, something they have to deal with and struggle against constantly. From women having to cover up and wear a headscarf in public, to restricted/censored internet, there are constant roadblocks placed in daily lives of Iranians, especially women. Yet, women are going to college at higher rates than ever, and there are increasingly more women going to work in Iran (a country where women traditionally stay at home). As a woman and a feminist, there is so much I learned from experiencing this culture and being around the women in my extended family. In my American ‘feminist’ and women’s studies learning, I’ve always noticed a constant lack of nuance and global consideration. Of course, each region has its own struggles, but I think it’s more important than ever, in our globalized world, to have connection and global awareness in your feminism. Having a dual identity as American-Iranian makes me understand both the issues for women in Iran, as well as for women here, but most of all it makes me understand how much more similar these struggles are than we would think. It helps me cultivate a perspective and feminism that is uniting, rather than dividing. We have more in common than we would expect. I am so grateful to have been able to connect with women there, because womanhood and feminine power knows no borders. 

Being American, I was also shocked by how much American politics/policies impact countries abroad, especially ones in direct conflict/tension such as Iran. As a middle-class young American, I have not felt a significant direct impact of the Trump administration thus far. But as an Iranian, I most definitely have, and seeing the way it has affected some of my family was heartbreaking to say the least. I’ve been very general so far, but I’m going to share a specific story to draw on this. I have cousins in Iran, whose mom (my aunt) applied for and received her green card to America many years ago. She’s been back and forth, trying to gain citizenship and apply for her kids to come to America, too. Meanwhile in Iran, her husband got extremely ill and her kids had to take care of him as she was back and forth to America over the years. They had finally reached the final stages of their green card process to come to America last year, when the Trump policies stopping immigration from Iran passed. They had went to their interviews at the American embassy in Turkey, prepared to sell their apartment, and packed for America, when it all came to a dead stop. A few months ago, their dad passed away from illness he struggled with for years. My cousins were left with nothing, and my aunt had been away from her kids and sick husband for years, staying in America to make try to complete her kids immigration process, for nothing. My cousins that this happened to are some of the most kind, genuine, and creative souls I have met. There, they are stuck in many ways, whereas if they had been able to move here, they would have had many opportunities and been able to contribute to the world in so many more ways. It breaks my heart, and it also makes me feel a sense of guilt, although it’s not directly my fault. How was I any different, or more deserving of coming to America than them? Why do I get to live this privileged life, go to college, and work, when they don’t? The universe works in strange ways. Life is unfair and things don’t make any sense sometimes. America is an entire oxymoron to everything it stands for, and it’s insane to think about how its policies can hurt people on the other side of the world. Politics is a game, and pieces of paper can be signed that mean nothing to most Americans, but that can turn someone else’s world upside down. The political is personal. 

Seeing family that I had not seen since I was a kid also meant a lot to me, experiencing the generosity, warmth, and kindness Iranians have to offer even their most estranged friends and family members. Connecting with my roots, I learned that I have Iranian, Pakistani, Azerbaijani, and Turkish in my blood. I also learned that I have creativity, passion, bravery, and resistance in my DNA. All Iranians do, as those traits are an essential part of life and existence in Iran, and is something we carry with us even when we go abroad. One of my favorite things about Iran was the art that flooded its streets and the souls of people. I believe everyone is an artist, but that is even more true for the people of Iran. From tiny, detailed paintings, silver and bronze work, street art, and mosques, the physical art in Iran is unbelievably beautiful. But even in the words, sayings, and poetry Iranians know and share each day, art and creativity are so deeply etched into the culture. I have been reading Hafiz poems for the last few weeks, and I’ve been incredibly moved and connected with the beautiful verses and words of my mother tongue. 

I had my first experience traveling internationally as an adult, experienced death/mourning firsthand, and saw my family and home country for the first time in my adult life. From light to darkness, I am grateful for the experiences, lessons, and growth I gained from this trip. I always knew my parents made significant sacrifices to move to America so I could have a better life/future, but this trip expanded that even more. They left their family, friends, and home to go somewhere entirely foreign to them because they knew it would make for a better future for our family. I am forever thankful for their bravery and sacrifices, and it’s something that will always motivate me to live my best life and make the most of myself here. I am also grateful for the difficulties I faced on this trip, as they helped me expand and tune into my dual-identity, and become a better, more aware global citizen and human. 

[endofthephrase]

9/17/17 Show Notes (Closing Night)

okay… one last time, here we go! (again, apologies for the delay.)

-The line to get into the theatre was longer than ever. I guess that’s what closing night will do for you (it just frustrated me because that’s how the line should have been for the whole run, but I could go on about that forever so).

-My mother and I ended up sitting directly behind the Cotts (Corey’s parents, Carly, and Meg) and it was so fun to be able to see them watch the show. Nathan Johnson was also a couple seats away.

Act I:

-It was the first time I noticed Donny’s hand tremor (see: the scene before Right This Way, etc.) in the opening battle scene with Michael, meaning that it even precipitated Michael’s death. So that was a great realization which was totally fine and not at all painful.

-There were a ton of little moments that got applause, and it was absolutely clear that the cast appreciated it.

-Geoff always looks on the verge of actual tears right at the beginning of Breathe and it’s so incredible that I just have to finally mention it.

-I don’t know if it was an attempt to lighten the closing-night mood or what, but Corey was joking around onstage more than ever, and it was amazing.

-During the poem scene with Julia (“You’ll make fun of them!”/“I won’t. Trust me.”) which is normally super serious, he said “I won’t!” and then, before “Trust me,” grinned and jokingly went “Eh, maybe a little bit” with hand motions and everything.

-After the line “This song will get us to New York. Everything hangs on New York,” while Donny and Julia are discussing the possibility of changing the contest song, Corey put the sheet music in front of his face and began swaying his head around, which was adorable and made Laura grin. 

-Love Will Come and Find Me Again got a standing ovation.

-Right This Way was just on another level. The guys onstage were crying, my mother and I were crying, all the Cotts were crying, you get the picture. Needless to say, it also got a standing ovation.

Intermission:

So during intermission, the woman sitting next to my mother struck up a conversation… it turns out that she was actively serving in the Navy, and basically every member of her family was either actively serving or was a veteran going back several generations. Additionally, a number of those family members apparently struggled with PTSD, so the show hit incredibly close to home for her. It was her third time seeing it, but nobody involved with the show knew about her, so even though it was closing night my mother went to go see if anybody was still at the box office that could make something happen. On her way, she ran into Andy Blankenbuehler (he had been watching from the audience with his wife and kids), and since he wasn’t mobbed she thanked him for the show and asked if he would like to meet the woman. 

{Sidebar: As someone training to dance on Broadway, I have always had the utmost professional respect for Andy- I think he’s an absolutely brilliant choreographer and I love everything he’s ever done. Based on what I’ve seen of him I assumed he was kind, but I’d never witnessed him interact with anyone in person, so I couldn’t be sure. Now I can say with absolute confidence that Andy is one of the most genuine, caring people I have ever met in the industry, and I have complete respect for him as a person as well.}

He came over to talk to her, and, despite the fact that it was closing night and he was probably one of the most popular people in the room, he intently listened to her story and was moved to the brink of tears before pulling her in for a hug. It was clear how much the moment meant to him, and as he left he wholeheartedly thanked my mother for bringing him over.

It’s been almost a week, and I’m still struck by his compassion and sincerity.

Act II:

-Laura was audibly choked up on “Sing because you just need to sing” which was heartbreaking on so many levels.

-Corey and Laura were both so emotional during This Is Life.

-Oh my God the pen thing. So a couple people have already mentioned this, but it’s worth repeating… when Julia and Donny were signing the NBC forms Laura dropped the pen, so she and Mary did an “Oh! Sorry!/Excuse me!” thing, then Corey smiled and went “She’s nervous!” and Mary said something like “We all are!” It was hilarious.

-Welcome Home… yeah. They all made it through the song, and I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house. I know for a fact there wasn’t a dry eye on stage. Also, when Corey went over to hug Laura he triumphantly raised his fist in the air, and the applause got even louder.

-It got the longest standing ovation by far. Like, it went on for so long that instead of the curtain coming down and the broadcast music beginning before the showgirls run onstage, Jonathan and the girls slowly crept onstage and then the curtain began to fall so that the show could continue, because the audience would not stop applauding.

-I cried most of the way through the finale (‘Epilogue’). It was just a lot.

-After the whole cast (including swings and understudies) had their bows, a couple more people involved with the show came onstage- the reason I’m mentioning this is because Alex was one of those people!!! I was so so happy because I had initially heard he was going to be there, but then that morning he was posting Instagram stories in Pennsylvania so I figured he wouldn’t be, and then he appeared! (and they included him in their pictures so my day was made and everything was right with the world.)

-ANDY’S SPEECH. It was the most amazingly perfect statement about the show that I’ve ever heard. I’m so glad that people recorded it so that everyone can hear it, because it was just phenomenal.

-After the speech, the cast stayed onstage for a long time.

-Joey immediately went across the stage to hug Alex, and I can imagine that their dynamic could have been complicated so I thought that that was heartwarming.  

-Mark proposed to Jaime!!! Jaime was beyond excited and it was SO cute.

So… here we are! I’m not going to make an emotional heartfelt speech- I’ll save that for another post- but I’m so glad that people have enjoyed reading these, since I don’t really contribute to the fandom in any artistic/creative way. (And even though there won’t be any more show notes, I’ll still be active on here for the foreseeable future.)

-S ❤️

[theseadagiodays]

March 24, 2020 

Adagio - an exquisitely slow musical tempo. 

IE. Barber, Adagio; Albinoni, Adagio; Mozart, Clarinet Concerto in A - 2ndmovement; Rodrigo, Concierto de Aranjuez - 2ndmovement; Beethoven, Pathetique Sonata - 2ndmovement.

           As we adjust to different rhythms of being, and to this socially distant space that we now occupy, art seems to be a vital thread that continues to tether people to one another, through meaning-making and story.  Countless times, in these past days, I have been moved by instances of art bringing joy and solace as we navigate this unfamiliar territory together.  So, I want to use this space to share music, poetry, dance and more, offered virtually by artists all over the world in an effort to connect and soothe us through this experience.   

           I recognize that many of us, at this moment, are currently facing real loss, challenge and fear.  But I also believe this can be a time for great healing if we let it. Our busy lives have been yearning for slowness.  A new rhythm that can bring the fresh perspective that only space can provide.  A tempo perhaps best reflected by the exquisitely slow pace of an Adagio.

           Since being dramatically forced to alter my own rhythms, six years ago, when a chronic injury caused me to surrender my lifelong flute performance career, I began a relentless pursuit to find another expressive voice.  Subsequently, creative writing eventually enabled me to transform my pain into art.  And consequently, my now completed novel, What Lies Between, was born.  

           Here, I explore the “what ifs”of a character with a similar experience to mine, but who lacks some of the resiliencies that allowed me to eventually thrive again.  The cellist protagonist Adele suffers a neurological disease that, too, makes her unable to play any longer, and her razor-sharp mind becomes fractured. Subsequently, she develops early-onset memory-loss and finds herself in a care home at just 67.  However, when Curtis, a charming but wounded child prodigy, comes to play for her weekly, his intuitive gift causes her memories to flood back in startling waves, while her deep listening helps him deal with school bullies, and gives him keys to unlock his mother’s deep sorrows.  

           Only recently have I finally mustered the courage to begin seeking publication for this work.  And early responses have been surprisingly encouraging.  This is why I finally feel brave enough to share even the briefest passage publicly. Before now, not even my husband has read a word.  However, I now feel that Adele’s story is more resonant than ever, with all of us relating to the experience of having to live without certain passions, and of being confined to a limited space.  So, here is the excerpt I’d like to share.

           Adagios soar with sadness.  Samuel Barber knew this when he set the middle movement of his String Quartet to this most melancholy of tempos.  Humans yearn for melancholy, for recollected heartbreak.  But sometimes the edges of what has been lost are fuzzy. A reminiscence of something essential that is missing yet not precisely identifiable.  A state so profoundly understood by the Portugese they created a word for it.  Saudade.

           There had been more than a year, before she gave up listening to music altogether, when she could bear no other music but Barber’s Adagio. Its soulful longing, its unhurried, aspirant rising tones.  Anything else seemed too cognitively dissonant with her very being.  

           On her darkest days, there is a way in which Sudbury Willows serves her, an environment so closed and tuneless its power is too innocuous to invoke her pain.   But the boy has reminded her she is now stuck in a suspension of a different nature.  Since he left, Adele has laid her head to rest each night and wished for soothing Adagio dreams.  But somehow, every morning, she still wakes to the Largo monotony of her new reality.

           And now I will leave you with a musical postcard recorded by Yo-yo Ma, just last week, (#songsofcomfort), and a poem that, for me, captures the essence of this unique time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rrBOkHfvNSY

My life is not this steeply sloping hour, in which you see me hurrying. Much stands behind me; I stand before it like a tree; I am only one of my many mouths, and at that, the one that will be still the soonest. I am the rest between two notes, which are somehow always in discord because (Fate’s) note wants to climb over— but in the dark interval, reconciled, they stay there trembling. And the song goes on, beautiful.

-      Rainer Maria Rilke, Selected Poetry

March 25, 2020 

Today I collaborated on an art project with a friend in Colombia.

Last night I read bedtime stories to my friend’s children (virtually).

Sunday I watched a duck catch a wave, and an ant move dirt for what felt like hours.

Saturday night we enjoyed the BC Ballet’s Romeo & Juliet, with a friend on FaceTime, complete with prosecco and ballgowns.

Friday I led 1000+ professionals through a guided mediation online.

So many opportunities to connect in new ways...

How might we fill this space?

Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, Victor Frankl wrote, “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

So, do you wanna dance?  DNice has been spinning tunes for hours-long virtual dance parties.  Even Michelle Obama and Bernie Sanders have joined in.  Stay posted on his Instagram page for future LIVE parties: https://www.instagram.com/dnice/

March 26, 2020

When I started this blog, I originally marked each date with a count of our days in self-isolation.  However, I’ve since deleted those markers, inspired by my childhood friend Nancy’s daughter, Maya, who sent me this wise reminder this morning.

As I attempt to infuse these adagio days with similar small moments of inspiration for those willing to follow this page, I do not want to discount the very real struggles that so many people face at this time.  I realize that I tend towards a need to uplift in difficult times.  (Perhaps I cannot help myself as the daughter of a former high school cheerleading and football captain).  But in doing so, I also never mean to seem tone deaf to genuine pain.  And I want to acknowledge that I also experience daily lows as I navigate our current reality. However, I have become aware of how useful these injections of positivity can be for me (whether from a friend’s text, Facebook post, or phone call).   So, I am  hopeful the same is true for you.

I am continually struck by humans’ need for connection.  And in my musical community, there have been so many beautiful efforts (if not also technologically sophisticated) to do this.  Janna Sailor is a Vancouver conductor with whom I’ve had the pleasure to collaborate.  In a nimble move, during only our first week of physical distancing, she managed to lead a group of Calgary Philharmonic and Edmonton Symphony musicians to collectively record this touching Zoom performance of Elgar’s Nimrod Variation #9.

https://www.facebook.com/donovan.seidle/videos/10103852773248345/UzpfSTUwMzA0NjgyMTozMDYwNjExMjk0OTk0MTQ6MTA6MDoxNTg1NzI0Mzk5OjY4Mjc2MTYxNjAwNTMyMzQwODU/

I must add, though, that not all efforts to foster remote musical collaborations have gone so elegantly.  And, because I could not possibly say it better, I’ll leave it to New York Times reviewer, Jon Caramanica, to best describe what went so terribly wrong when several celebrities tried to record their version of John Lennon’s Imagine, last week.  

“In this clusterclump of hyperfamous people with five seconds’ too much time on their hands, “Imagine” may have met its match. By the end, it has been pummeled and stabbed, disaggregated, stripped for parts and left for trash collection by the side of the highway. It is proof that even if no one meets up in person, horribleness can spread.”

For a good laugh, and at the risk of sounding like a classical music snob, here’s their eternally key-changing version of the song.  I dare you to sing along!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQK32bwvRuI

March 27, 2020

Apparently, when people have more time on their hands, a preponderance of puns emerge.  I have come across no shortage of quarantine-related word play, these days.  And here are just a few that have cropped up in my community.  

For those looking to meld their voices with others, tune in every Sunday, at 3 pm EST, for Choir Choir Toronto’s new virtual Sing-a-Long: Choirintine: https://www.facebook.com/events/2798475520243342/

But, if you’re more of a sit back and listen kind of person, Vancouver’s Locals Lounge will be hosting regular live-streamed concerts through their new series, Quarantunes: https://sidedooraccess.com/shows/TgDGz6rA6SKtjj4dbE86?fbclid=IwAR1Fih0oYqsOrhR-AlCygFBX6FBeIX3XXXiYxpxwzJzxnjJGP0-UI0C7Z-s

And finally, if all this screen time has you as exhausted like most of us, it’s probably time to turn off all your devices and help yourself to a good, stiff Quarantini, using any of one these new recipes: https://www.townandcountrymag.com/leisure/drinks/g31900654/quarantini-cocktail-recipes/