#The man just wanted to play his violin and write songs about his beautiful powerful duchess wife but then JF came along

[101flavoursofweird]

I haven’t had a chance to write anything for the 11th anniversary of Rhythm Thief and the Paris Caper English release, but I just wanted to share a headcanon… regarding Marie’s birth father. 

I’m not suggesting the game could have been improved by his inclusion (Maybe he could’ve been mentioned in a potential sequel…), but I like to theorise so here we go. 

In the game, Marie is said to be the ‘last blood descendant of the Babylonian royal house’. As Elisabeth is a duchess— a member of French royalty— I’m going to assume Marie’s father was previously the last blood descendant on Babylonian royal house. Emphasis on last and previously…

In her diary, Elisabeth makes no mention of Marie’s father (as far as Raphael reads, anyway) when she discusses the day Marie was born. This leads me to believe Marie’s father wasn’t in the picture when Marie was born… but still, Elisabeth describes this as the happiest day of her life. 

I think Elizabeth was happy with Marie’s father (even if they were in a royal arranged marriage situation) and she knew he was the heir to Babylonian royal house, but this was kept under wraps, even from members of Elisabeth’s family—

Such as Jean-François. Oh, Jean-François… Surely didn’t set out with the intention of ruining his cousin’s happiness, but maybe he wanted to knock her down a peg? 

Elisabeth appeared to be this ice-cold perfect DUCHESS… while Jean-François was a mere history pupil at the Sorbonne. A pupil with great promise (according to JF’s former teacher, Alàn) but that’s nothing compared to the DUCHESS. Jean-François has money— enough to donate to convents— but not DUCHESS levels of money. He can arrange to give this random convent girl violin lessons, but Elisabeth has power over politicians and influence over Paris' high society. Jean-François craves this level of wealth and power, enough to make France reign supreme.

JF just needed to find a chink in Elisabeth’s armour… and maybe he got that chance when Elizabeth fell in love. As far as JF could tell, the man she fell for was a complete a nobody. A worthless, poor musician with an old violin. What exactly did Elisabeth see in him? Did she really want to produce an heir with this man…?

JF starts digging, until he discovers the truth. He confronts Marie’s father with the help of some chevaliers… and this leads to Marie’s father’s untimely disappearance.

His disappearance— labelled ‘Mystère Incident’— panics Elisabeth and her family at first, but the family relax when they find out Elisabeth is pregnant. She’s going to have an heir… and that’s all that matters, right? Who cares if the father left?

Elizabeth cares. She cares a lot… and she has her suspicions about Jean-François. She suspects JF knows her baby is the last blood descendant of the Babylonian royal house. 

Fearing Marie will suffer the same fate as her father, Elisabeth gives Marie away to the convent… where Marie falls right into Jean-François’s waiting hands. 

[evilfloralfoolery]

ok but I'd really love hearing more about that French fuck omg! "Oh I'm so very cold" sfdsljk freaking priceless, it's been a good long while since I've read something so entirely up my alley!

Why, thank you!!! I'm absolutely delighted that you enjoy this as much as I do! I actually thought of you when I was "listening" to Lucian tell me about himself lol. I've always had a penchant for snarky snobbery as well, as you know. ;)

SO! This is what Lucian has "told me" about himself so far.

Lucian d'Alarie was born on May 10 in the year 1700 in the city of  Marseille. His parents were extremely wealthy "old money" aristocrats that relocated to Paris when he was about 17. Lucian's father was murdered under "suspicious circumstances" after his mother took up with an even wealthier man and left the family. At 19, Lucian became the sole heir to his father's fortune and business (he hasn't told me what this "business" is yet). It wasn't really what he wanted to, but rather, what was "expected." Lucian had great skill in the art of music, playing piano, violin, and singing in rather lovely bass-baritone. He even dabbled in composition and has, over time, composed several pieces. Bach and Monteverdi (and later, Mozart) were some of his favorites. In the year 1731, he fell ill with some manner of influenza, which would have been fatal, had he not been "rescued" by one of the undead. The one who made him told Lucian that he was "too beautiful to suffer such a horrid death" and gave him the choice to become immortal or to perish. Of course, he chose the path of darkness and power. Why wouldn't he? His surname literally means "all powerful" lol. Despite his inherent aristocratic snobbery, Lucian is a quite the romantic, writing poetry, curating roses, composing songs for those he loves, etc. He's extremely proper, a big believer in etiquette and formal speech, and prefers rich blood when he feeds. Fucking snob.

As far as appearance goes, he's about 189 cm tall with pale skin (duh), wavy, dark golden blond hair that's just a bit longer than shoulder length, light green eyes, and a rather "classically" chiseled physique and jawline. He prefers waistcoats and high collared shirts to modern clothing and usually wears his hair pulled back.

But what you really want to know is this:

When he was alive, he had terrible "hay fever." Lilies and gardenias are particular horrors along with certain trees. While these things no longer bother him in the same way as they did when he was mortal, he is EXTRA sensitive to scents and is legit allergic to garlic. What a fucking cliche. He is able to walk in the sunlight for short periods of time. It will not burn him to ash or destroy him, but it does drain him. After about a few hours, he needs to find some serious shade or suffer the consequences. Said consequences are human-like cold symptoms. He calls it "being sun sick." It's somewhat of a recent discovery for him, considering daylight was too much for him before. It basically blinded him. He spent decades gradually exposing himself to it until he could walk among the living as mortals do without being in absolute agony due to the burning of his eyes. He does still have to wear sunglasses, which is amusing to me.

He has the capacity to eat and enjoy human food, but it doesn't do anything to actually satiate him. Only blood can do that. He does require complete darkness in order to rest and rejuvenate, but he doesn't sleep in a coffin (because why would he ever lol). He sleeps in a canopy bed with "black out" curtains around it in a room with more of the same hiding the windows.

While he is technically immortal, I suppose one could "kill" him by burning him to ash, dismembering him, or something similar. Too much sunlight over a long period of time might do it, too. I'm not sure. He hasn't told me all of his "secrets" yet.

[watchmegetobsessed]

I Hear A Symphony - Harry Styles

Extra blurb for Floating Through Space!

a/n: this idea came to me out of the blue and i suck at controling myself so i just had to write it! it’s an extra in the universe of FTS, just a little moment for our power couple in their life after the grammys!

the fic again contains an already existing song, credits to the artist, it’s going to be linked in the right place, make sure to listen to it when you see the vid!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

word count: ~2k

masterlist

It’s been two weeks since the first time Harry told you he loved you. Fourteen entire days since the man you’ve been with these past three months told you he loved you, not just with his actions but with his words as well.

It happened so randomly, so out of the blue. You were at his place and following a long and dreading day the two of you decided to have a shower together. He asked if he could wash your hair and you enjoyed the way his fingers massaged your scalp, the intimacy of such a simple yet heartwarming moment ending the day on a wonderful note.

As the water was washing away the soap of your body he leaned down, captured your lips in a simple kiss before the words fell from his lips.

“I love you,” he said, his eyes searching for yours as first you looked down at the floor before your gaze meeting his, lips parted, heart pounding in your chest.

You wanted to say it back, it was on the tip of your tongue, but no word came out your mouth, a slight panic rushing through your senses from his confession. So you pulled him down and kissed him hard, hoping he can feel that you meant to say it, but you weren’t ready to actually form the words just yet.

It’s been eating you away for so long, because the feeling has been there for a long time, probably since the Grammy’s when the two of you sang your heart out in your duet, but your body is plotting against your mind, not letting you say it the way you want to. But you feel like the moment has come and being the dramatic artist that you are, you want it to be big. Because Harry deserves a grandiose romantic gesture.

You’ve been working on your new album for a while now, but needless to say that when you met Harry, you wrote quite a few songs about him that demanded place on your upcoming record, but so far you haven’t shown him any of them and you have a major reason for that.

The very first one you started writing about him turned out to be a massive song. Not because it has a full ballad as the lyrics, it barely have just a few verses. It’s because what started as just a simple melody for the piano soon turned into a monumental symphony with a full symphonic band and you decided to compose the entire melody, to all of the instruments yourself, because it was the only way the song would feel entirely yours. And Harry’s.

Recordings have been going on for weeks just for this one song, because you needed it to be absolutely perfect since it’s been in consideration to be the title of the album. Now the song is done and you are ready to show it to Harry and finally tell him how you really feel about him.

Sitting at your dining table you watch him type out an email to Jeff, eyebrows furrowed as he is still chewing on the last bit of his dinner. His unruly curls are covering his forehead and you smile to yourself as you reach over and push them back, making him glance up at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, putting his phone away to turn all his attention to you.

“You,” you tell him, tilting your head to the side.

“Me? And why is that?” he smirks, grabbing your hand before you could pull it back and bringing it to his mouth he gently kisses your knuckles.

“What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” you ask, ignoring his question.

“I’m guessing you are about to tell me,” he smirks, letting go of your hand so he can rest his chin in his palms. “What were you thinking about?”

“Would you like to come to my recording session?” Harry’s eyebrows shoot up from surprise, he surely wasn’t expecting this.

“You want me there?” He knows how you like to keep your works to yourself until you feel comfortable enough to show it to someone outside of your little team. You’ve only shared with him bits and bites of songs, nothing major, so this invitation is clearly a big deal for the both of you.

“Yes. I want… I have something to show you.”

He could tease you about finally showing him something, or crack a joke about being so into him that you wrote a song about him, but he doesn’t do anything of that sort. Instead, he just smiles back at you with so much adoration and love filling his eyes, it could make your chest burst. Leaning closer he kisses your lips softly before pecking the tip of your nose as well.

“Would love to join you.”

You hold onto Harry’s hand for dear life on your way to the studio where you’re going to have your final recording of the song. His song. A whole orchestra is going to be playing for you and while you’ve recorded the song in layers before, today you’re gonna perform it all together for the first time, every instrument playing at the same time as you sing. You really wanted to have a version of this sort, so you know what it’ll sound like when you perform it later with the prerecorded music.

You can tell that Harry is just as excited as you are, but he is keeping it bottled inside, not bugging you about what he is about to hear. He knows it’s going to be about him, you wouldn’t want to show him if it wasn’t.

When you pass by several studios and head to the grand room, the only place that fits the whole orchestra in it at the same time, Harry seems to be growing curious, but still doesn’t question anything, just follows you silently.

“Hello everyone!” you call out upon walking into the room, the majority of the band is already there, greeting you happily, especially when they see who you’re with. “Um, Harry is going to join us for the recording, hope it’s alright,” you announce with a nervous chuckle and you get a few knowing looks. Everyone in the room knows it’s about him, you’ve been an item publicly long enough and it’s not a hard task to put two and two together.

Harry waves around with a few short hellos and how are you’s as he takes a seat at the front of the room, facing the orchestra and essentially, you when you’ll be singing. You sit next to him and before the recording starts, you feel like you owe a few words for him.

“I’ve been working on this song for… the longest, because it started with just a piano, but then I kept adding more and more until it grew into a whole orchestra,” you admit chuckling and it brings a smirk to his lips as well, his dimples digging into his cheeks. Then you take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves for the next part you’re about to tell him. “Two weeks ago you… told me you loved me and… I’m sorry for never saying it back…”

“I didn’t expect you to,” he speaks up softly. “I didn’t say it to hear you say it back. I know it takes you a lot to figure out your feelings, Y/N.”

“But I have them figured out,” you reply. “I just…” You take a deep breath, feeling yourself getting emotional already. “This song is the first one I wrote about you.”

“The first? So there’s more?” he asks with a small smirk.

“Of course,” you admit chuckling. “But this one… is the most important one. So I want you to hear it.”

Harry nods and doesn’t question you about never finishing your trail of thoughts about your feelings. He just lets you do your thing knowing that it’ll become a whole sooner or later.

Leaning in you kiss him shortly before you stand up and join all the incredible musicians and get ready for the recording. Harry gets a headset so he can hear everything clearly and when everyone is settled, the recording starts. The song kicks out with you singing acapella.

“I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along. Now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you.”

Then the piano starts playing and eventually the violins join softly before you start singing the second verse, making the melody flow perfectly. You keep your eyes off of Harry, but you can feel his intense stare on you as he listens.

“With simple songs, I wanted more, perfection is so quick to bore. You are my beautiful, by far our flaws are who we really are."

The piano and the violins continue playing, getting more and more dynamic with each played note and you feel a shudder run down your spine. The whole song starts to grow as the wind instruments join in, slowly pulling the melody up to its peek that’s about to come soon. And then it happens. Your eyes find Harry’s when you start to sing the next verse, the whole orchestra playing behind you at its fullest.

“I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along. You took my broken melody and now I hear a symphony…”

The melody continues as you add some vocals, singing your whole heart and soul out, your eyes still set on Harry before suddenly, the instruments cut out and you sing your last line with just the piano playing the last few chords along with you.

“And now I hear a symphony.”

The room grows quiet and your chest is heaving, vision blurry as you couldn’t stop yourself from tearing up. Your emotions washed over you, sweeping you off your feet and now your bare soul is lying in front of Harry’s feet who is still staring at you frozen.

At first you panic at his lack of reaction, but then you see him wipe his eyes and you realize he is crying. Just as you step off the podium and head in his way, he takes his headset off and starts walking in your way and the whole orchestra start cheering and clapping when he envelopes you in his arms, holding you so tight you can barely breathe. You laugh through your tears when he lifts you up and twirls you around in the air before setting you back down and kissing you all over your face, wherever he reaches you. Cupping his face in your hands you pull back a little so you can look into his glistening eyes.

“I love you,” you finally tell him with shaky lips, a weight finally falling off your shoulders and chest now that you’ve said it.

“Oh baby, I love you too,” he smiles, before pulling you in for a kiss that’s soaked by your tears, but by far the sweetest you’ve shared. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips.

“What do you think about the song?” you ask finally pulling away, wiping your tears off your cheeks, not even caring that there is a whole orchestra watching the two of you interact.

“I’m pretty sure this is what they play when you enter Heaven,” he chuckles making you laugh as you smack his chest playfully. “No, but really. It’s brilliant. I’ve never heard anything like this. And having you sing it live for me with the whole orchestra… My mind is blown, baby. It’s going to be hard to top it with anything,” he adds chuckling.

“That was my plan all along,” you admit with a laugh before you pull him down for another kiss.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[conniespringerblkwife]

Drummer Boy

(Connie Springer x Female Reader | NSFW)

A/N: So i was using the bathroom and then BOOM Connie fic idea. In conclusion, using the bathroom=best ideas.

Also I wrote this awhile back and since it’s Connie’s bday today, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to post it.

Warnings: Connie with eyeliner, Smut: Fingering, rough sex, and Connie grabbing the headboard

Summary: Y/N and her childhood best friend, Connie grew apart when once they began college. Three years later, Connie sees Y/N practicing and his feelings return for her.

*2,785 words*

Songs I listened to while writing:

Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds

Bad Romance (Lady Gaga) by Halestorm [Cover]

You and Connie used to be close friends since you were three all the way up to college.

Even though you two were best friends, you were polar opposites. He was an extrovert and you enjoyed quiet time by yourself. You had straight As, and Connie on the other hand, struggled in school. A D was an A to him. And although Connie was more popular than you, there was always one thing that brought you two together. Music.

Music has always been something you two can bond over. You played the violin and he played the drums. Even though you two enjoyed different genres of music, you understood each other's passion. Connie always wanted to play in a band and you always wanted to travel with a big orchestra and be first chair. You two understood each other's motives and worked hard everyday.

When you two started to grow up, you guys made a promise to never forget about each other when you two become famous. But that promise was broken, when you went to college. You and Connie both attended the same university, but became distant as you two joined different groups. You guys didn't realize the relationship died, it just gradually happened.

You both were caught up in different careers and lost time for each other.

You two met again, while you were practicing your solo, for an upcoming concert. You didn't realize anyone walked in until you heard the sound of clapping and a voice. "Wow!"

Your eyes adjusted to the figure below and you realized it was Connie. "That was amazing Y/n, you really have grown." He flashed a smile and you gave him a small one in return.

"Thanks Connie." You started to place your instrument in the case.

"How you've been?" He asked softly.

"Fine. And you?" You turned around to make eye contact with him.

"Good." You two stood in awkward silence. It's been so long since you two interacted with each other. You didn't know what to say. You guys haven't talked since freshman year of college, you're a senior now.

"Well, I'll go now." You gave him another small smile and proceeded. As you were heading out, you heard him call out your name.

"Wait Y/N!" You turned around and saw him jogging towards you. "Come to my gig tomorrow night."

"I don't know, I think I have practice tomorrow."

"Well if you don't." He pulled out a folded piece of paper out his pocket and handed it to you. "You're always welcomed." You studied the flyer and saw at the top, "10 pm: Riot of the Red Heart will be performing, 'There's a Hole in My Stomach.'"

"I'll see." You smiled and left the building.

*

You plopped on the bed and studied the flyer. "Riot of the Red Heart," you said to yourself. You decided to look them up and was amazed how popular they were on campus. You noticed they had an Instagram and clicked on their page. There were three members: Connie, a girl and a guy. The guy hair was pretty long and he had a beard, and also played guitar. The girl, you assumed was the main singer, had light brown hair and in her right hand was a potato.

As you continued to scroll through their page, you took note how happy Connie looked. Something in your heart twisted as memories came back, but you suppressed them and told yourself that you were happy that he was happy.

Unlike Connie, you didn't make any close friends during your four years of college. You had one friend named Mikasa and that was because she was your stand partner in orchestra, but outside of practice, you two never talked and if you did, it was only about what time practice was.

You put your phone on the charger and placed the flyer on the nightstand next to you, heading off to bed.

*

The next day you found out you didn't have practice and a part of you was happy that you could have a break. You decided to head back to your dorm and take a nap. It was rare for you to go a day without practicing, but you deserved it. You've practiced so much that your shoulders hurt more than usual. You would always forget to do stretches before and after practicing and would have to suffer the consequences because of that. As you drifted off to sleep you thought about Connie and wondered what he was doing right now.

*

"You guys excited for the night?!" Connie said wrapping his arms around Jean and Sasha's shoulders.

"Yep!" Sasha exclaimed, "Also after our performance can we go out to eat? I was thinking about that steak house down the street."

"Do you wanna go there because you've been crushing on that waiter?" Jean teased.

"What's his name?" Connie scratched his head and then smirked, "Niccolo?"

Sasha elbowed Connie in the side and walked off, " That's not true, I just liked the food there." Sasha crossed her arms while staring at the pavement trying to hide her embarrassment. "

"Mhmm, whatever you say." Jean remarked.

"Oh guys I invited someone." Connie spoke up.

"OOO who??" Sasha said.

"Her name's Y/n, she's a childhood friend." Connie rubbed the top of his head. "I want you guys to meet her."

"Oh she must be really special," Jean teased Connie.

"Yeah she is actually."

"Well I cant wait to meet her." Sasha said while throwing her arm around Connie's shoulders. Ever since Connie saw you yesterday, he couldn't get you out of his head. Connie used to have crush on you from middle school all the way to high school, but it left as you two grew apart. But those feeling returned when he saw you playing.

He didn't say anything that day when he entered the building and saw you practicing. He just stared in awe as you engrossed yourself in the music. Although you music was placed in front of you, your eyes were closed. It made him think how hard you have been working that you didn't even need to look at the music. He hoped you come tonight because he really missed you, and wanted to start over with you and possible relationship.

*

When you woke up , you saw that it was 9:00 pm. Your eyes then traveled to the flyer next to your clock. Connie's performance started in an hour. "I guess I could go." You said to yourself as you got ready.

You threw on a sweatshirt and jeans and fixed your hair before grabbing your purse.

Connie's band was performing at a small place called, The Corps Club.

When you entered the club, there were a lot of people, but it was pretty calm. Everyone was genuinely having a good time and you cursed yourself for not bringing Mikasa with you. You felt awkward as you sat at the bar fiddling with your purse, hoping to see Connie.

"Can I get you something?" A bartender said while cleaning a cup.

"Just a lemonade please, thank you." You were so focused on watching the bartender pour your drink you didn't even notice the presence beside you.

"Y/N Hey!" It was Connie. You took in his appearance and noticed he had on black eyeliner and wore a gray shirt that no sleeves along, a sliver necklace around his neck, and a chain that hooked to his pants. "I wasn't expecting you to come." He leaned on the table, "Hey Levi I'll pay for it."

"Oh no Connie that's okay." You protested but the man already took the money. "Thank you." You said softly while taking a sip of your drink.

"Thanks for coming y/n, I really appreciate it."

"Of course."

Connie then grabbed your arm and pulled you through the crowds of people. "I want you to meet my friends." He shouted and lead you through a door. "Guys I want you to meet y/n."

You seen them before, but it was different seeing them in person. "Y/N this is Sasha and Jean."

"It's so nice to meet you!" Sasha said and then pulled you into a hug. "Any special friend of Connie's is ours too. You want some chips?"

"No thanks," You said, your face heating up slightly at the thought of Connie talking about you to his friends.

"I'm Jean." He said as he held out his hand. You didn't imagine him to be so tall you thought as you shook his hand. "Connie you didn't tell us your friend was hot." Your eyes widened at his words.

"Jean please shut up you're making her uncomfortable." Connie said while hitting the back of his head.

"Anyways y/n, we're performing a song called There's a Hole in My Stomach. It's about a guy and girl who are twin flames, but the girl gets shot in her stomach and the boy basically loses another piece of himself." Your mouth opens slightly at the sad, but oddly specific, story behind the song. "I know right depressing, but it was Connie's idea." Sasha continued.

"We have five minutes 'till we perform...Y/N I'll show you a good spot to watch us." Connie said while grabbing your arm. He led you to the front row, "This seems like a good spot." He then pulled you into a hug and you felt your heart beat quicken. "Thank you y/n," he whispered into your ear. He pulled away and ran off, leaving you stunned.

You were blown away how good Connie's band was. Although the topic of their song was depressing, they played as if it wasn't. The three complemented each other so well. Sasha's voice was also beautiful and powerful. Jean played the guitar with a smirk plastered on his face as he rocked his head back and forth (let me stop before i turn this into a jean fic).

You then looked over to Connie and saw how intense he was as he hit the drums. It was like he was different person. You seen him play the drums before in high school, but that was nothing compared to now. His muscles flexed as he drummed. You thought he looked sexy, especially with the sweat gliding down his face and his eye liner starting to smudge. As if he heard your thoughts, Connie made eye contact with you and winked and quickly looked away.

After the performance you met up with the three and congratulated them. "You guys did amazing and Sasha your voice is so beautiful."

"Thank you." She said while wiping the sweat off her forehead. They all were sweating and you saw how Connie's eyeliner was now smeared across his eyes. "Are you coming with us to eat?"

"Oh no, it's late, I need to get back to my dorm."

'Are you sure Y/N?" Connie said while patting his neck with a towel.

"Yeah..Thank you."

"Well let me walk you back since it's late." He said while throwing his towel on the couch.

"Bye y/n!" Jean and Sasha said as you and Connie headed out.

The walk back to your dorm was silent until Connie said, "Thank you for coming. I'm so happy to see you again."

You smiled, "Of course Connie."

"It's been a long time since we seen each other." You hummed in agreement. "I missed you so much y/n" Connie stopped walking and stared into your eyes.

"I missed you too." There was tension between you two and you didn't know why, but you continued walking anyway.

You two were now in front of your dorm's door. "Thank you for inviting me Connie. Good night." As you were going to open your door Connie then said, "Y/n wait." You turned around in confusion.

"I want to start over."

"What?"

"I really missed you. Like a lot." You nodded your head, confused to where he was going with this. "Fuck it." He then pulled you by your waist and pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened at his sudden actions. You knew you should've pulled away but you couldn't.

You two were now in your dorm and you made out with each other as you straddled his waist at the edge of your bed. His tongue explored your mouth as he rubbed and squeezed your thighs.

Wanting more friction, you decided to rock against him and he groaned in your mouth. "Keep doing that." He said against your lips as he slid his hands under your sweatshirt to unstrap your bra. You were still in shock that you were making out with your old best friend, but that thought left when you felt his big hands cup your breasts and his thumbs circle your nipples.

He pinched and twisted your nipples as his mouth traveled from your cheek to your neck to suck on the skin.

You ran your hands through his hair and noticed that it was longer than last time you remembered. You giggled as a memory of you calling Connie a bald penguin popped up in your mind.

He then took your sweatshirt off and stared at your breast and then he squeezed your hips, urging you to keep grinding on him. "Stop staring."You whispered in embarrassment. He then attached his mouth to your nipple and you gasped at the wet feeling. His hands traveled your body up and down, his hands rubbing your curves and then cupping your ass as you continued rocking against him.

Your panties were wet and you wanted nothing more than for him to touch you where you most needed it. He didn't notice you unbuttoned your pants until you grabbed his hand and slid it down to cupped you down there. He felt how warm and wet you were and began caressing you gently through your underwear.

He then pulled your panties to the side and rubbed a finger up and down your folds before placing his middle finger inside of you. You hid your face in his neck as you rocked against him while he placed another finger inside of you. He rubbed his other hand up and down your back to ease you. "You're so beautiful," he said softly before placing a third finger inside of you.

"Connie" You moaned his name and that's when he lost it. He pulled his fingers out of you and laid you on your back. He shoved your pants and underwear down while he peppered kisses on your neck. You kicked the remaining clothing off your legs and pulled his shirt off while you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You two were now fully naked as Connie teased your folds with his penis. You bit your lip in anticipation. "Connie pl-" before you could finish he pushed himself inside of you and you clawed at his back as he stretched you out. He moved slowly first and you watched as his chain dangled in front of your face. You took that opportunity to grabbed him by his chain and pull him into a kiss.

He started to pick up his pace and you had to hold onto his shoulders for support. "So fucking tight." He said as he watched how you took him so well. When he felt you loosen up, he took the opportunity to lift your legs over his shoulder and pound into you. This new angle had you gasping for air as his hips snap against the back of your thighs.

His hand was gripping the headboard to go faster and his other hand also had a death hold grip on your waist, you knew there will be a bruise there tomorrow but you didn't mind. The more you said his name, the faster he would go.

He slowed down a bit when he felt your walls clench around him. You were close and he had to control himself because he wanted to make you cum first before him.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came intensely and then a few moments later, Connie also came.

Connie then pulled out and collapsed on top of your body, then proceeded to give you small kisses between your breast. You both were breathing hard and you felt a small smile slowly form on your face. "I know this wasn't the proper way to build our relationship back up." He said against your skin. "Let me make it up to you and take you out tomorrow." He looked up at you through his long eyelashes.

You smiled and brought his head up to kiss him again, "I would love that."

*

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[bump1nthen1ght]

Waltz of the Vampire (Vampire x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Fat!Reader/Fem!Vampire

Genre: Fantasy (Vaguely Historical/Renaissance)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3469 words

Summary: You forcibly attend the ball of the rich family that has just moved to town, unexpectedly finding comfort with one of their daughters.

Request: Hey!! I love your writing a lot! Would you consider an elf or a vampire whatever suits your fancy with a fat fem!reader. I try hard not to hate my body but it can be really hard sometimes and I know a lot of people go through it not just plus size folks but... idk it’s my weakness and a huge comfort. Anyway I hope you have a awesome day!!!

A/N: I really loved writing this request, and after I finish Thicker than Water, I might make a part two.

Serena has been to a lot of parties. Too many, in her opinion, even over her 326-year span of life. Her matriarch, “Mother” as she is called by her and the coven, believes there is no such thing.

Every move they make is celebrated by a grand ball, invitations sent out to every available person. Mother claims it’s the best way for them to fit in, to hide in the crowd rather than the shadows.

Serena understands this, she’s seen it work wonder for their reputation time and time again, but she still does not like them.

Tonight is especially dreadful, a bad hunt the day before and a quick spat with her “brother” enough to sour the whole get together. Serena spends most of the night eluding suitors and dance partners, embracing a mysterious persona so she can enjoy some alone-time.

As she looks around at the dance floor, Serena concludes that she is not a fan of the new fashion statements of this era. A bit too strict, too formal, with precise lacings and starchy hoop skirts. It makes the dance floor too stuffy in her opinion, no room to twirl your fabric or move your limbs.

She sips on her special red wine, eye’s lazily perusing the hall for her siblings, hoping to gain some company, when she spots you. Selena is brought to a pause, mid-drink, as your embroidered skirt glimmers, catching the light as you twirl it across the room. Her eyes widen, determination peaked when she notices you don’t have a partner.

How beautiful.

----------

Oooh, I love this song.

You hum, unconsciously bouncing from side to side as your favorite piano piece begins to play. It’s a piece you have on your list to learn in the future, bubbly and cheerful with a bumpy melody and the option for a fun violin accompaniment.

The energy of the music quickly translates to the dance floor, where couple’s begin to giggle and improvise amidst the strict waltz and counted-steps. It’s a shame that it’s such a good piece because for the first time of the night, you really wish someone would ask you to dance.

When the news the MacArthur’s were throwing a huge welcoming ball had reached your household, your mother quickly began throwing together preparations for you to attend. You had sighed, set your feet in a preemptive ice bath, and ready for another boring night.

As a former socialite herself, from girlhood you were forced to attend party after party. While it had done as intended and transformed your sister into a perfect lady, it had the opposite effect on you. The stiffness of the hoop skirts, the suits, and all the damn people always stuffed up your throat and flushed your face. With your sister as the shining star, it was easy for you to slip into the shadows, and avoid the preening of your mother’s etiquette lessons.

Now, as a growing woman with more and more free-time, you used all of your abilities to avoid huge social gatherings. You found your place amongst small gatherings with local friends, sneaking wine from the cellar and telling stories in the freezing cold around a fire

But as the music increases it’s tempo, with flourishing skirts and plenty of laughter, you can’t help but lose yourself in the joviality of the gathering. The fancy dresses, the even fancier alcohol, and the decadent ballroom had you wondering if you had been missing out a bit.

If only Margaret and Min-Young were here, now that would be a party.

You giggle into your champagne, heels still tapping against the hardwood and hand slightly tossing your skirt back and forth. You easily fall back into your reclusive corner to avoid embarrassing eyes who may glance upon your solitude. But a tiny yelp escapes you when your heel accidentally digs into a foot. You whip around, faced already flushed red with embarrassment.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t look where...I was…”

Behind you, dressed in a dark purple satin gown, is Serena Macarthur herself. She stands a solid two heads above you, hair done up in an immaculate up do and two shimmering ruby earrings dangling from her ears. Her face is serene, lips curled up in a bit of a smirk. You quickly jerk away and give a half-decent curtsy, noticing her beautiful black dancing shoes which you just stomped on. “I apologize, Miss Macarthur, I can’t believe I acted so foolishly. I didn’t realize-”

“Oh, there is no need to worry darling. I’m alright, no harm done.” She says, her voice low and musical, almost like a thrumming bass line. Her gloved hand is placed on your shoulder, the other slides up your neck and tilts up your chin to meet her eye line.

My god, she is stunning.

Her eyes are a color you’ve never seen before, not dissimilar to the sharp gemstones in her earrings. Serena’s makeup, simple yet sharp, does everything to accentuate the cardinal-red of her irises. You can feel the simmering blush heating up your skin as she continues to stare. “I was actually coming this way to speak to you, flower. It’s my fault really, for sneaking up on you.”

You shake your hands, nearly spilling over the champagne in your glass. “Oh no, it’s no problem. Like you said, no harm done”. You force a giggle, hastily taking a sip of your champagne. “May I ask what you wished to speak of?”

Serena smiles, a smirk which is just as sharp as the rest of her, though her eyes betray no slyness or ill-will. “I was going to enquire about your dress. I noticed it from across the room and was stunned by how enchanting it is.”

“Oh! Well, thank you very much.” You blush, unconsciously rubbing your finger over the embroidered flowers on the skirt. “I actually-”

“Whoops!”

In less than a second, you find yourself right next to Serena, as a drunk dancer trips and spills his drink all over the floor. You blink, brain not even fully processing what just happened, as you notice Serena’s arm on your elbow and the red wine splattered where you stood just moments ago.

Did she move me? But when-how did she-

“Sorry! Sorry about that.” The man slurs, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. His partner, a distressed young woman, grabs his elbow and forces him to stand straight. “Guess I’ve had too much.” His embarrassed partner chokes out a laugh as he continues to sway.

“Yes, it seems you have. Make sure to fix that, soon.”

Serena’s tone is barely above talking volume, but holds a command like a powerful shout, Both of the dancers jerk with surprise, furiously bowing as the female drags the man out of the hall.

Serena sighs, rubbing her forehead with exasperation. She turns toward you, smiles back on her face.

“Would you like to take this to the garden? Seems the party is getting a bit too rowdy for good conversation.”

You nod, still a bit befuddled by Serena’s quick mood change and even quicker reflexes. But you link elbows when she holds hers up in invitation nonetheless, following her outside.

---------

The Macarthur estate is beautiful, as expected, and the garden fits that image to a T. Even in the moonlight you can see the finely cultivated roses bushes which decorate it, along with the gleaming marble fountain and sitting space under an ornately decorated gazebo. The two of your heels click along the paved path as you walk towards the center, your half-empty drink still in hand.

“You were sadly interrupted, but you were mentioning something about the dress?”

You nod, taking another long sip of your champagne, hoping a little alcohol may temper your thoughts.

“Yes, I was just going to say that I made it myself.” Serena’s eyes grow wide, eyes darting up and down your attire, and you feel yourself fluster. “It’s a tradition in my family, you see. My great-great-grandmother was very diligent when it came to teaching her kids how to sew, even the boys, and it became such an insisted upon skill that all her children ended up making their own evening clothing for special occasions. It ended up filtering down that every child makes one special outfit themselves, for what occasion it doesn’t particularly matter, but something thatt is uniquely you.” You pull up the end of your skirt, pointing out the flower pattern. “I’ve always had a fondness for gardening, so I tried to incorporate that into my dress. Plus,” You smooth out your skirt, “Most party dresses I’ve found are a bit too restrictive for my tastes, I wanted something I could really get into some fun with, y’know?” You force a giggle, immediately wondering if that comment was a bit too salacious for high-society talk. Serena simply smirks, letting out a low chuckle of her own.

“I wholeheartedly agree. May I take a closer look?” She gestures to your skirt and you hastily nod. The two of you take a seat by the fountain, Serena’s glove accidentally brushing against your calf as she picks up your skirt. You try and control your shiver from the simple contact. She hums admirably as she runs along your work. “Such incredibly done Sunflowers, the detail you put in is astounding. And these are forget-me-nots, correct?”

“Oh yes, those are my favorite kind.” Serena’s hands continue to run along the linework, following the bumps and dips of each flower petal. “As you can see I had trouble with the lavender, what with the petals being so small.” Serena shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She looks up at you, forcing you to hastily act as if you weren’t admiring her face.

“The work you put in makes them twice as beautiful, mistakes be damned.” You blush even harder, throwing your hand and taking a final sip of your champagne.

“Thank you very much, but I have a long way to go.”

Serena’s hand hasn’t left your skirt, now resting on her lap as she continues to look at you. You swallow the last droplets of champagne down your throat, trying to fill the silence.

“The band is incredible, did you hire them locally?” You stutter, setting down your glass. Serena continues to fiddle with your skirt.

“Some of them, yes, but the violinist is actually my older sister, Marigold.”

“Wow! Make sure to give her my compliments, she’s very talented.” Serena nods, before her eyes dart down your toes. As the music echoes out of the hall and into the garden, you had unconsciously begun to tap your toes to the beat. When she glances at you, she can see your head slightly bobbing, a content look painting your face. A small smile forces one on to hers.

How cute. She internally sighs, noting how soft the skin of your cheek looks, the nice curve of your jaw, and your adorable noise. The pulsing blood which would run down your throat, the crimson looking devine against your exposed collarbone and dripping below your breast line.

She stands up abruptly, forcing those evocative thoughts out of her mind. You were quite cute and good company, someone Serena would like to get to know. Sometimes the crossed wires of her brain confused attraction for bloodlust, mistaking the butterflies for hunger pains.. She is almost embarrassed; It was one of the common hurdles new vampires had to overcome, a bridge she thought she crossed years ago

You startle, looking up at her with innocent doe eyes. Serena holds out her hand, ignoring how she can hear your steady pulse, unintentionally matching the beat of the music.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” She almost whispers, bowing slightly.

Your face flushes, nodding without a word, and slipping your bare hand into her glove.

Serena boldly grabs your hip and presses you against her, quickly taking the lead. Your brain fervently recalls all of your formal dancing lessons, pressing your head into her chest as she takes you along.

In her arms, following her perfected steps, that slithering self-consciousness sneaks back into your brain. Your logic tries to reason with it;

You wanted to dance, but now that this beautiful woman has gladly offered her hand, you want to stop?

But your insecurities are louder, screaming about every trip and every spare touch. This close, you can feel her firm musculature through the dress, spotting the hint of her bicep as she leads you. With her dainty and elegant hand on your side, you feel twice aware of your size underneath, every imperfection concealed by your dress.

You had fallen in love with this dress when making it, but had always been hesitant to wear it. You feared that once you put it on, that beautiful picture in your mind would shatter, leaving you forlorned of what could never be. Not with you wearing it, you had thought, avoiding your own mirror as you left.

“Something on your mind, flower?”

Serena whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Your back jerks and contorts back into position, almost stepping your foot on hers. You shake your head furiously.

“Oh no! I-I just-” You stumble, trying to find an easy excuse, but are stopped when you take a look at her face.

She’s resplendent, even up close, not a hint of makeup to be seen. But across her cheeks, slightly faded from what looks like years away from the sun, are-

“My, you have such wonderful freckles.” You murmur, without a second thought.

Unbeknownst to you, if Serena could blush, she would. But the scrunched up look of embarrassment is telling, hinting that maybe this beautiful heiress has her own things she hides away.

“W-well, thank you.” She hastily utters, eyes averting from yours. It’s uncharacteristically shy and you can’t control the giggle that escapes you.

To give her some reprieve, you take your eyes off her face and trail them around the garden. They catch on the fountain, where the contrasting colors of your dresses stand out amidst the black. In the reflection, the two of you could not look more different. Serena stands a head above you, slim-fitted dark purple dress pulled across her curves, while your bright green dress cinches at the waist, flowing out like the flower's detailed skirt. It blows and beckons with every movement, brushing occasionally against your form and showing off the contours of your body.

Damn, you think, we look hot.

Just as fickle as it’s counterpoint, confidence quickly overtakes your mind, blocking out the noise of your doubt. You hold tight to your beautiful partner, in the beautiful dress that you made, and allow the happiness of this moment to exist uninterrupted, however short it may be.

The music increases its pace, the smooth line of a saxophone bringing up the energy. With a new burst of energy, you allow yourself to improvise amidst the  strict waltz. You lift your weight off your heels and try to glide from step to step, like the fast-paced tango dancers your mother once took you to see. Serena matches your enthusiasm, gripping your waist, even lifting you a few inches off the ground when a particular chord strikes. Her fingers slightly tickle your ribs, an ecstatic giggle escaping you and you falter a misstep. Your mind almost stops, embarrassed by your stumble and that insecurity sneaking back in, but Serena follows your new tempo with grace, urging you along with improvisation.

Your bodies follow the music with abandon, ordered steps devolving into impassioned stamps and twists, Serena twirling you around as the violin and piano sing from afar. Your heart and mind are running on adrenaline. It’s like when you were little, letting out your energy in any way possible. Serena’s laughter is magical and for once you don’t detest your awkward snorts and chuckles.

As the music slows, the two of you near-tumble back into the fountain, taking a seat with heaving chests.

“Whew, I haven’t danced like that in a while!” You say, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear. Serena nods, patting her stomach as she continues to laugh.

“Me as well. I forgot how fun it could be, when you’re not counting your steps.”

“Oh good, you do that too. I always wondered how no one got dreadfully bored just saying 1-2-3 over and over.” You mutter, taking in a deep breath and patting her thigh. Your other hand drifts down to the fountain water, letting your fingertips brush across the top and inadvertently catching your reflection once more.

It’s not the most flattering angle, your shoulders slump and the water slightly distorted, and those intruding thoughts try to slip in once more.

Oh shut up, let us have this.

Your logic sighs, batting it away without another second thought.

As the two of you sit, your energy eventually begins to drift back down, your muscles slightly tired from that short burst of impact. You sneak a glance at Serena.

While her outfit is still immaculate, her updo shows the smallest signs of dishelevement, curly black hairs falling down above her ears. In a way, she’s more beautiful than ever.

“Me and some friends are actually getting together next week. The shepherd's daughter, Violet, is getting married and they are throwing a little shindig at the barn to celebrate. Do you want to come?”

Serena looks up at you, slightly surprised, face furrowed with that hidden bashfulness. But she nods nonetheless, shooting you a bright smile.

Still high off your dance, you just barely miss her large fangs, which glimmer under the moonlight.

You smile back, only startled when the large bell tower from  the center of town chimes. Your head looks towards it’s large face and back towards the moon position. You’d guess it was midnight. Seems the two of you had lost track of time while dancing.

“Well, I should probably be going.” You say, standing up and brushing off your skirt. “I do have some gardening to attend to in the morning, going to need a solid amount of sleep. But,” You say, eyes demure and locked on your toes as Serena stands up, “I had a lot of fun tonight. More than usual, I would say.” You giggle, twirling a strand of your hair. Serena hmms in agreement.

“Me as well, flower. Your company has been the highlight of my night.”

In a bold move, Serena grabs your hand and lays a kiss on the back of it. Her eyes radiate that power and certainty from before, crimson irises shining in the night. Your blush crawls its way back up your neck.

“I-I can say the same.”

The two of you stay in that position for a moment, Serena pulling away her lips but keeping a lingering hold on your hand. Your heart thrums in your chest, while hers is deathly silent. Neither of you wants to be the first to pull away.

“I-uhm.” You stumble, hand still locked in place.

Now’s as good a time as any. You suppose.

In a quick movement, your hand loosens from Serena’s grasp and you give a quick peck on her cheek. In another, you have pulled away, sprinting towards your carriage.

“I-I’ll see you Saturday!” You shout, nearly tripping over a rose bush.

Left behind in the garden stands Serena, cold hand pressed against the burning skin of her cheek. Your kiss shot through her body like a lightning strike, almost jolting her frozen-heart alight.

That night, Serena goes for a hunt. She barely takes the time to change out of her formal clothes, nearly tearing the delicate lacework of her dress. Her claws catch on her gloves and almost rip apart, her heels scuffing the floor as she kicks them off and to the side. Her undead body is thrumming with life, untapped energy that longs to get out.

Her thoughts run a mile a minute, forcibly distracted by the Grizzly bear she currently has in a choke hold. It puts up a good fight, but Serena is running off of pure bloodlust.

At least, she thinks it’s bloodlust. A deeper part of her knows it's something else; The sparking fire of something new and a little bit frightening.

The last time she was personally invited to a ball, an event, a ceremony was less than a couple months ago. When you hold a position such as hers, look like her, they are common occurrences.

But to a party? Not a politically motivated meetup, but a genuine, let your hair down, party? Well, she hadn’t been to one since she was a youngling of 150.

And for the first time in a while, she is excited.

[highpriestessofjogan]

Every once in a while I’m not in the mood to write fiction...

Sometimes I like to do literary analysis for funsies, or, surprisingly enough thanks to the content of this post, music analysis as well.

When I first watched Guardian, there was one song that stood out to me more than most of the others from the OST.  It was always used in the scenes with more emotional weight, and was so haunting that it lingered in my mind long after the scene had passed.  Once I was able to hunt the soundtrack down on Amazon (a feat that was much more difficult than it should have been imho) I came to learn that this song was actually Shen Wei’s theme.  Shen Wei’s theme was in all of the emotionally hard hitting scenes and haunted me for long after the show had finished.

One day I was driving to work and I was just looping it over and over for my entire commute.  It’s an hour long commute ya’ll.  Just that song, over and over and over (and I’ve played it for several hours on a loop before and I have no doubt I will do it for many more times to come, this song is beautiful and haunting and I love it to death).  As I listened I started to make some realizations, and as those realizations came to light it left me even more heartbroken than originally.

The Shen Wei OST is a perfect character journey.  It tells his story in a way that words simply could not come close to.  I’ve tried to sum up my best analysis of this song and what it means, and I’m sure I don’t even come close to what Luo Kun intended when he composed the song, but I hope that he would at least agree I have parts of it right.

I’m going to put the actual analysis beneath a “Read More” so please, drop me a line if you like what you read or if you want to discuss it further.  I’d love to chat about this!  It’s broken up into five distinct movements that I think relate to different points in Shen Wei’s life, and I should mention that this is looking at the character purely from the perspective of the drama.  At some point I might go back and see if I can tie it into the novel at all, but that has not been taken into consideration here.

I’d like to state above the cut that my thanks go out to @elvencantation and @eirenical for looking over my initial drafts and giving me their opinions and helping with musical instrument identification.  I might come back and clean this up someday, but for right now, I wanted to get something out there for everyone to read.  I hope that you enjoy it.

Part I. Gege (0:00 - 0:35)

There is a very melancholy feel to the song, but it also has the quiet grace and strength that the audience can always associate with Shen Wei.  This is the beginning of his journey though.  This is a young boy caring for his brother.  A boy who tries to protect and is cast aside, thrown down to the dirt, and returns too late to save the one remaining person still precious to him.  The beginning of this song paints the picture of a solitary figure against the horizon, short in stature from age and inexperience, a blade much too big gripped in too small a hand.  The piano solo here emphasizes his lone search for his brother and hoping against all hopes that he might one day find him and the two of them could be reunited. 

Part II. Xiao Wei (0:36 - 1:08)

At 37 seconds in the strings make their entrance.  I like to think it was a deliberate choice to have Zhao Yunlan pick up the violin during the Tan Xiao and Zheng Yi case, because I firmly believe the strings in this soundtrack are supposed to represent Zhao Yunlan just as the piano represents Shen Wei.  These 32 seconds represent the Shen Wei that we see during episodes 34 and 35 in Ye Olde Haixing Era.  A bright eyed energetic young warrior who cares about his men despite his position.  He hides his fear behind a mask, under a hood, and does what he can to help in the war.  But here is also when Kunlun arrives.  A famous general who miraculously takes an interest in HIM.  And what has he done to warrant such attention? The kindness that he is shown here helps to shape him, mold him into a stronger warrior, a stronger person, but it will be millennia before he will learn why Kunlun saw him for the person he was rather than the blade and power he wielded.

The strings here do not try to overwhelm the piano here, even though they easily could.  Instead they seem to try to entwine with the notes from the piano and guide them.  It’s a graceful dance between the two that represents the close partnership that Shen Wei and Kunlun shared during the war.

Part III. The Black Cloak Envoy (1:09 - 1:39)

This part of the song is particularly interesting to me.  The piano is still present, but the tune has changed, the same for the strings, but now the sounds of a woodwind have joined the other two.  It’s at this point Shen Wei has woken up after 10,000 years.  He’s thrust into a new world that he must learn, and a Dixing that is far worse off than he ever imagined it would be.  He is a legend, but he does not try to take power.  His duty is still his to fulfill, but he does not seek to take power aside from that.  This is the new life that he forges for himself, from who he was as a boy, to who Kunlun helped him become, but this is something he creates to survive in a world that is unfamiliar to him.  

Now he is not needed as just a blade, although he will be that when it is necessary.  Now he can pursue his love and inherent gift for learning.  This is the man who emerges from the ground and takes up bioengineering as a field of study.  This is the person who befriends Cheng Xinyan and probably has more than one or two study sessions with her.  This is the college student that I’m sure was dragged to at least one karaoke night to blow off some steam, and may have discovered his aversion to alcohol that same night.  This is someone who lived.

Part IV. Professor Shen (1:40 - 2:11)

The woodwind fades out and we are left with the string and the piano once more.  The string though is more like the tide, pushing and pulling against the piano, but that is very fitting for the section of the song, and Shen Wei’s life, that Zhao Yunlan is introduced into.  The strings surge forth and ease back, pushing Shen Wei for answers, but also easing back when he seems ready to break.  The piano has returned to its tune from the first two movements, and it’s probably due to the uncertainty that Zhao Yunlan has brought into his life.  Why has Kunlun suddenly reappeared and why is he acting like he doesn’t know who Shen Wei is?  Why does Da Qing not remember him?  In the face of these questions he retreats to who he was before, until he can determine what the best course of action to take is.  If Kunlun is testing him or doesn’t remember too he doesn’t want to risk the chance that the man will not recognize him.  This could be why we see the fond smiles and confused blinks, aspects that are so inherent to his character.

Part V. Shen Wei (2:12 - End)

I’m not going to lie, it was coming up with this part that really broke my heart.  The strings remain, but fade to the background and are only faintly known.  The piano has returned, and is at the forefront once more with no question as to who the lead is.  Through all the changes in his life, he has come to realize who he truly is.  He is a brother who is afraid he has failed his twin.  A warrior and leader afraid he has failed his people.  A man afraid that he will lose everything, but willing to make that sacrifice to save his friends and family, to keep the man he loves safe.  He is no longer just a blade to be used.  He has a purpose, one that has not been forced on him but that he has chosen for himself.  

This is the Shen Wei who decides to use the light energy from Zhao Yunlan to make himself a living bomb.  The man who decides that if his brother cannot be made to stand down then he will force him to.  This is the man who looks into the eyes of his lover as he lays bloodied and broken on the ground, who sees all that they could have had in their lives, and silently begs forgiveness even as he makes the ultimate sacrifice.  

And then the song fades out with the slowing piano notes, just as Shen Wei’s life ends with the slowed beating of his heart...

[iscribble]

the love we held on to (m)

pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader synopsis: being in love with the man who makes his words sound like a romantic and intricate piece of poetry means cherishing the golden days you get to listen to his voice, until all that’s left of him is a simple yet evocative song you promise to treasure with all your heart. genre(s): vocalist!seokmin, strangers to lovers, romance, angst, smut (warning: unprotected sex, profanties, character death) word count: 6,870 a/n: i wished this was longer, wouldve had much more impact i guess:( anyways almost cried writing this ;-; brace yourselves people!!

Bleak and bitter nights were not your favourite. They were ridiculously cold, as if a dark entity was overlooking the whole town with its raw breath gusting through jouissance from the homes of the people and replacing it with unwanted melancholy. The clubs would not be as crowded, shopping centres would close hours earlier from the lack of customers, and the streets, oh the streets, would always look a little too lonely.

Bleak and bitter nights were not your favourite, but it was during an evening of such that you had fallen in love with the man that had proven again and again that he was your world. Your safe haven. However, fate wasn’t on your side, for now you can only see him through the one song the two of you used to hold so dearly, or so you thought.

“I promise you’ll love it there!” Seungkwan was a man of persuasion and everyone would’ve known that by the way his words swirled as sweet invitations into your head that made your body involuntarily acquiesce. “Please? I’ll even introduce you to the handsome vocalist!”

“The what now?” You almost spat out the earthy savour of white tea that has yet to hit your throat, already questioning Seungkwan’s exaggerated coaxing. “Look I don’t need no handsome vocalist, I’ll go if you pay.”

The obvious shine in his eyes dimmed into a light glare as you reached the end of your sentence. The long-drawn-out roll of his eyes ultimately concluded with him agreeing, although quiet mumbles of how this would be the last time he paid for the both of you were still plainly ricocheting off the walls.

Like the swift gesture of lighting a match, the mean whirl of air outside became devoted to mantling your figure that donned a navy a-line dress, matching Seungkwan’s dress shirt the colour of an emperor butterfly. 

Ever since the surfacing of a notice informing that a casual dining restaurant had just opened up for business not too far from your place, he had been unceasingly imploring you to dine with him in the comforts of the serene eatery. The place was accentuated with a blue glow, incandescing across the orderly arrangements of tables. It emanated the pleasant amity within the confines of your apartment, the kind of warmth that granted snugness to the people busy savouring their meals.

Seungkwan's adamant desire grew stronger when he learned that one of his best friends had placed a job as the vocalist of the band responsible for adding to the solace of the restaurant.

“Isn’t this lovely?” His eyes skimmed across the sapphire grandeur of the place, never landing on anything even though his figure was rooted to the sofa. The stage that grandly stood at the front bore a couple of performers who played different instruments with their undivided attention. You let the intoxicating resonance travel to your ears and influence your body, feeling it slowly swaying to the gentle melody. 

“Are my eyes playing tricks on me or there really isn’t a handsome vocalist onstage?” You brought up, suddenly remembering that Seungkwan had wanted to introduce you to a friend of his. 

“You’re blind,” Seungkwan retorted, subtly pointing at a taller male standing next to the stage, “he’s right there.”

The male was evidently lost in the effortless flow of the violin, seemingly immersed in the gig. As the song neared its end, he bounced on his toes, shaking off the nervous tension inundating his body. 

“That’s him, that’s him!” Seungkwan shouted in a whisper as the man made his way to the stage. “Damn, told ya he looked fine.”

Seungkwan wasn’t wrong. The stellar glow that flooded the place now centred on the handsome man, spotlighting details of his stunning features. His hair was brushed up, as if showing off his fetching ebony eyes and the attractive smile that appeared behind the microphone. He stood there practically glowing like an angel. For a fleeting moment you wondered what his voice sounded like. It couldn’t be more perfect than this, could it? 

As profound emotions started to well up inside him, a beautiful tune withdrew from his mouth, pervading the place and making you shiver. His voice sounded like an angel singing with euphony, filling a void you didn’t even know existed within you. 

“Seokmin really is something else.” Seungkwan dreamily muttered, eyes still glued on the man. The restaurant had become the quietest since you arrived, everyone seemingly drunk with his vocals filling their ears. 

His name was Seokmin. 

From the look in his eyes, you could tell that the romantic ballad he delivered was imbued with sincerity, stemming from the depths of his heart. The words that gracefully circled about the place were not as clear as you hoped, but the lyrics were merely a cosmetic quality to the voice that touched your heart. A simple hum drawn from his mouth would’ve had you falling for him anyway. 

The cold evening elapsed rather quickly as Seokmin serenaded the diners. You leaned against the chair, still trying to make sense of how someone could so immaculately be the shining example of perfection. 

You finished your dinner just in time to catch Seokmin blending in with the rest of the performers after he finished his repertoire. Seungkwan looked at you and nodded toward the handsome man, extending his hand and zooming past the array of tables once you held on. 

“Hyung!” He waved vigorously at the male, plucking his attention. The dark glint of ebony in his eyes came to life as he spotted Seungkwan inching closer with a huge grin. You watched in an awkward stance as they shared a brotherly hug, quite unsure of your place. You endured the sticky silence as your best friend threw out compliments with dramatic gestures of his hands, before Seokmin finally noticed you.

“Oh, are you his girlfriend?” Seokmin turned to you. Perhaps your perception was distorted, or your eyes were fooling you, when you caught his lingering stare on you just a few seconds before he finally spoke. Seungkwan did not notice this, though. Maybe you were mistaken. You tightened your interlocking fingers as a rosy tinge coloured his cheekbones.

Seungkwan snorted at his silly guess. You hit his arm lightly, although admitting that the idea was too obnoxious.  “No, I’m a friend of his.” Your fingers were now free. Your right hand came up to hold the strap of your purse.

“Oh!” Seokmin's lips that were already broad enough extended even further, as if discreetly telling you he was delighted at the revelation. “Nice to meet you, I’m Seokmin!”

You knew your mind wasn’t making things up before before when you also felt the prolonged touch of his hand on yours. It was only supposed to be a handshake. Your body jolted with electricity when his thumb ran over your dorsal side.

You introduced yourself, throwing Seungkwan a mocking look knowing that he was the one who promised to do it. 

But this way you’d only have yourself to blame when the unspeakable pang of heartache comes tumbling down to you in the course of your love story.

The second time you saw Seokmin was due to your own will power. Your last encounter with him left you with nothing but the growing wish to meet again, not even his phone number. You had nothing that could possibly connect yourself to Seokmin other than your hell of a friend Boo Seungkwan, who would chaff you with all his might if he knew about the problem.

You weren’t sure of when he’d perform at the restaurant, so you had absolutely no pointers of the right time to go there. It would, however, be a sensible plan to go there the same day Seungkwan had asked you to last week. So you did that, but this time, you were going alone.

You arrived a little behind time. The man you wanted to meet was already halfway through his first song. You took a seat at the back and watched as he sang a couple more songs, all the while ingesting your food. You had doubts on going alone at first, picturing all the judgmental stares that would be thrown in your way. You forgot that as soon as a word leaves his lips, everyone else would be immersed in his performance.

Before the final song ended you called for the waiter and paid your bill. You wanted to talk to Seokmin. 

He slipped off the stage and ordered a drink at the bar. You came up to him, gently tapping his shoulder.

“Seokmin,” you sounded more enthusiastic than you had wanted to, it was almost demeaning. A soft hue wormed its way to your cheeks. You were wordless after that. When you went with a simple “hello,” you hoped Seokmin remembered you.

When his back slowly faced the other side and he confirmed that it was really you, you swore your heart banged against the cage that harboured it harder than it already did before. Not only because he remembered your name, but the way it sounded coming from him was like nothing you’ve ever heard.

And you knew you had to get used to that when he told you he would treat you to dinner.

“I just had dinner!” You announced rather quickly, although not wanting to skip an opportunity with Seokmin.

“Are you just going to let me eat alone then?” He asked you rhetorically, not expecting an answer from you anyway. “Come, there's an empty seat.”

Seokmin pulled out a chair for you. You shyly smiled at him, taking your seat. Of all the farcical scenarios you had rewound in your head, none of those involved Seokmin treating you to dinner. 

“Why did you come here alone?” He asked after placing his order.

You were too shy to admit that the principal reason was sitting in front of you. You weren’t going to say that. So you had to make up a reason.

“Oh, Seungkwan was busy.” You awkwardly grinned. “I was too hungry to wait for him so I came here alone.”

“If I was in your place I would’ve ordered takeout or something,” he laughed, those teeth, that handsome smile. “Not come all this way and let it rob my wallet.”

He had a point. The things you do for Seokmin.

He had his ways of making the night go on as nice as it did for two people who barely knew each other. The little cloud of awkwardness floating above you seemed to have effaced as you conversed over dinner.

You zoned out staring at him once in a while, as if his face was this huge canvas of the dimly lit sky, and you were trying to count how many stars adorned it. Unlike the previous week, his hair was now let loose, the almond strands stopping just before his eyebrows. He still looked handsome. 

Now that you get to reap the benefits of sitting this close to him and revel in his angelic presence a little longer, you successfully discerned the vanilla scent he had on him. You admired the wrinkle that would show every time he smiled, the cute little mole on his cheek, and the corner of his lips that would reach for the skies every time he laughed. He was breathtaking from afar and ethereal up close.

“Did you curl your hair?” Were the words that pulled you back to your senses. You thought you heard wrongly.

“I’m sorry?” You leaned in closer. 

The hairs on your skin stood up at Seokmin’s breath tickling your ear. “Did you curl your hair?”

If Seokmin was aware that you did, that could only mean he remembered how you styled your hair or took in enough of your appearance to remember that you didn't do the same the first time you met. The thought made you a little dizzy, in a good way.

“I did actually!” You broke into a toothy smile. “How'd you notice?”

Now that it was his turn to confess, his ears painted themselves a lighter red. “I thought you were beautiful last week, you're even cuter like this.”

You tried to assure yourself that it was the great deal of food you consumed that made you slightly tipsy. It couldn't be his words, could it? No one could ever have such an effect on you.

After Seokmin had paid for the both of you, you reached for your purse and slung it over your shoulder. Seokmin had offered to walk you home, which you, almost too fast, accepted. Your place was not too far from the restaurant and you wanted more of this novel but exhilarating feeling. With one quick wave at his bandmates, Seokmin guided you outside with his hand on your back.

“Hey, you wanna step inside for a bit?” You find yourself asking Seokmin as both of you arrived at your door.

“Sure!” he answered with the same smile that hung on his lips a while ago, “I'm sure this is where Seungkwan’s been hanging out a lot right?”

“That's right,” you let a giggle slip past the narrow opening of your lips. You opened the door for him and fumbled for the light switch.

Having Seokmin in your apartment made you ten times more conscious of how its form would strike someone that wasn't a close friend. You realised that you never turned off the kitchen lights that were visibly broken (you could see it blinking). The cabinet over your sink was still open, and your bevy of footwear wasn't even in your shoe rack from all those days you didn't bother to put them back.

You were forced to jettison those thoughts after Seokmin assured you it was okay. You told him to make himself at home as you barrelled across the kitchen.

You were unconsciously singing a line from an indie track you had just added to your playlist of diverse genres as you prepared a glass of water for Seokmin. You were used to being alone, belting out quivery high notes when the place was too lonely to your taste. It had become a habit which you never intended on sloughing off.

The fragile tune that rippled from the kitchen only made him smile even more.

“You have a nice voice.” Your eyes enlarged at the sound of his voice. The jewel of a professional vocalist was sitting on your sofa and you just went all around the place hitting notes you weren't even sure you got right.

“Oh my gosh did I just sing out loud?” You shouted from the kitchen. A soft chuckle tiptoed to your ears.

“Let’s sing together!”

“I’d rather not, really.” You handed him the red mug with the scatty-looking pattern of uneven pink hearts.

Seokmin wasn't even giving you a choice. Your answer to his question really didn't matter because as soon as he brought up the idea, he started singing anyway. He looked at you, eyes adjuring you to join him while his voice coaxed yours to leave your lips, his smile that glows like the sun never fading. You didn't have a choice when his hand lifted to squeeze yours, another victorious way of persuading you.

Your voice was a cipher compared to his, like a tiny crumb beside a scrumptious blueberry pie. You struggled to even maintain the right tune as he harmonised with you. But Seokmin’s outstretched smile taped to his face like old gum that sticks to the underside of a chair. He looked at you as if you had the most beautiful voice, or as if your voice was even beautiful to start with. You wanted to be reserved but he didn’t comply. He made you feel easy. He kept on nodding at the words coming out of your mouth, smiling even wider when your voices blended just the way he wanted to.

“You have such a sweet voice.” He complimented you as your spontaneous singing came to an end. Your throat felt dry. 

“You think so?” You asked, not even bothering to hear his reply. No matter how many times he waxed lyrical about you, you knew your voice was never that good. Seokmin just made it seem so believable.

He tightened his grip on your hand that had already begun to sweat. “How come Seungkwan never tells me he has a friend like you?”

“What do you mean?” You said in a fit of giggles. “I’m nothing special! Seungkwan only told me about you last week and I wished I had known you since forever!”

Light-hearted laughters fused within the walls of your living room as you talked about each other. It was almost ten when you realised Seokmin had been staying in your apartment longer than you had planned. He seemed to have realised that too when he suddenly stood up and searched the sofa for his things, preparing to leave.

You opened the door for him, stepping aside to give him space. Seokmin’s oscillating stare between your eyes and the curve of your lips imploded when he finally placed a light kiss on your cheek. You blushed at the contact.

The night could not go on forever and Seokmin finally disappeared from the borders of your vision.

You could not wait to see him again.

Seokmin was like a dream. Oh he was one. A dream that afflicts your mind with the best kind of inebriation and thick fog that unceasingly dances inside your head. A dream that leaves you in the lurch almost frustratingly, urging you to beg for more. An unrivalled dream that portrays all the emotions you've kept under wraps from Seokmin, unleashing all at once.

He was a dream you could never get enough of.

The moment his tongue slipped past your folds and pushed inside you, you felt as if the world began to erase everyone but the both of you, keeping you still in his built arms, rooting you in place as his tongue danced on your core.

Your fingers treated his hair like a pillar, finding support in the soft strands and pulling them every time he hit the right spot, making him hungrier.

This was only meant to be a game. A stupid 7 minutes in heaven that your friends had asked you to play, in an attempt to add colour to the scene at Seungkwan’s party that had started to degrade into boring leisure.

You had agreed to play only because Seokmin was in it. It would be a perfect disguise to be more intimate with him. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when the bottle pointed at Seokmin when it was your turn.

He had started with a simple “I’ll kiss you for the sake of the game, alright?” without knowing that none of you would be able to resist the other as soon as his lips landed on yours. Neither of you wanted to pull away, and neither of you thought seven minutes would be enough. You had granted access for his tongue to traverse your mouth, his hands promptly raising to hold your neck when he felt the addictive tingle. He started planting kisses on your jaw, adding a little suck for every time he went farther down.

“S-seok,” you groaned as he sucked on your nipple. Seokmin paused and asked you if you wanted him to continue. You nodded eagerly, not wanting to be free from his touch. He continued placing kisses down your torso while his right hand massaged your breast. You leaned against the sink, letting out quiet whimpers here and there as he neared the place you wanted him the most.

He was quick to discard your shorts along with your underwear. You could no longer see Seokmin’s sugary smile and hear the ringing of his melodic voice. All you could see was the hunger growing in his eyes as he asked for permission to devour you. But beneath all that you could also see the faint twinkle of love.

Seokmin’s nimble tongue made you cum in no time, your legs wobbling like you had just run a marathon. Your fingers tugged harder at his hair, earning a groan from him. You were having a hard time holding yourself steady so you gripped his shoulders and leaned forward, gasping for air.

He tasted the sweet trail of juice that glossed your thighs, enjoying each part that relayed a distinctive tang but still bore its honeyed consistency. He was careful as he grabbed both of your hands that rested on his shoulder, stood up and kissed them lovingly.

You were breathless, but you were far from satisfied.

“F-fuck me, Seokmin.” You shakily whispered in his ear with the last of your voice.

“If you say so love,” Seokmin gave in to you by turning you around so that you would be facing the mirror while he fucked you. He placed a kiss on your shoulder before aligning his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing into you when your breathing has stabilised. You started your series of unrestrained moans as he stretched your walls, smirking behind you.

“I am so in love with your voice.” He cooed, starting at a steady pace. He pulled out and pushed inside you gently for a couple of times, with you latching onto the sink for support.

Your moans did not go unheard, and you knew that when your friends on the other side of the door started whistling and throwing a "you go Seokmin!" every once in a while, but also reminding that you had less than a minute left.

This had only fuelled the fire in Seokmin. He began fucking you faster and rougher, like he was desperate to release. You screamed at the amalgam of pain and pleasure. His hand ran to your clit, rubbing circles over it to make you cum for the second time. "Moan for me love, let me hear you again."

Alas, seven minutes was over before the both of you even managed to come undone.

“I’m opening the door!” Seungkwan shouted over the thick layers of your groans. Even then Seokmin wasn't pulling out of you yet. You could see the door slowly open from the corner of your eyes, your bottom half still naked and Seokmin was still inside you, fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

The both of you came as Seungkwan turned the lights on, the profuse mixture of cum instantly leaking out of you and staining the tiles.

“What the hell?” Seungkwan said in shock as he shut the door. You could hear the rest of the boys bewailing and gagging at the sight. They may be scarred for life.

Despite all the ruckus outside, Seokmin's sweet smile addressed you through the mirror as you looked at him with the obvious hint of drowsiness hanging off your eyes. He kissed your cheek and cleaned you up.

“I think we traumatised them.” There it was, his ravishing voice overflowing the place once more. He leaned down to kiss the crimson allure that is your lips. “How about we continue this at your place?”

You smiled, still intoxicated at the mere sight of him.

Ever since your heated session with Seokmin, the two of you started seeing each other a lot more. He had asked you out on dates, which would almost always end up with your body being absolutely sore the next day, mulberry streaks scattered all over the expanse of your shoulders.

The third time you went to that restaurant with Seungkwan and more of your friends, you were practically avoiding Seokmin.

Hell, every time you set foot in that redolent setting, you’d often have to conceal the scarlet patch that graced your cheeks and act like nothing was going on between you and Seokmin, all the while withstanding the teasing that came from the guys. Every time they decided to approach him after dinner and shower him with accolades, you’d stay quiet. When they finally started to leave the place you’d always look back and find Seokmin smiling at you, sometimes even risking to smirk. But that was it, that would be the only interaction you had with him. 

However, when you came alone, Seokmin's public facade would dissipate into a sea of trifling dust. He would always make sure you’d leave the place limping and breathing for air. 

You would advance toward him with a little verve to your step, always intrigued for what’s to come. He would guide you toward the bathroom when everyone else was engrossed in the enticing ballad that flowed throughout the place. The second you were alone he would spare you no time to ease up, immediately pushing you against the wall, lifting both of your legs and locking them around him. He would clutch your hands above your head and let his tongue wander inside your mouth. It would still have the taste of whatever you were eating that night. You’d stay like that for a few minutes and then Seokmin would bring you down, casting aside his trousers and setting aside your underwear before pushing himself inside you with no warning. This would always end up with you incoherently moaning his name. He’d fuck you against the wall with your legs fixed around his hips. He needed to be quick so sex in the restaurant was always quicker and messier than the slow nights in your bedroom. 

This routine would drag out for quite some time until the night of a bleak and bitter Friday in your bedroom when the evening wind was especially foul.

You were hypnotised by Seokmin’s lustful gaze, his cock still buried deep inside you even as he finished his messy release. When he didn’t move you lifted your hand and grazed the golden expanse below his eye. “What are you doing Seok?” 

Seokmin didn’t answer. Words didn’t come out of his mouth. Rather a poem. A melody. A song. He started a lullaby that coursed along with the evening wind that had seeped through the open window. It was a love song. 

His voice was supposed to soothe you, to calm the nimble surge of blood flowing through your veins, to hold you like a mother’s warm embrace. And although it did, it forged the jitters more than alleviate them. 

“Seokmin,” you whispered, still looking into his eyes. He hummed in response.

“Why is it a love song you’re singing when you’re not even in love with me?” 

He paused.

“I never got to confess, love.” He stroked your swollen lips. “I love you. I know I do.”

Before you could speak again your lips were connected with his, this time moving slow and sensually in genuine intimacy, a contrast to the previously hungry and rushed kisses. You continued just like that, a heart-to-heart link between your lips shedding sheer exhaustion from sex. 

Until you had to break the kiss to answer him.

“I love you too Seokmin.” 

He smiled, the love song that halted beginning to pour out from his heart again. Your eyes were getting heavier and heavier and before you knew it, you were asleep. The last thing you saw was his eyes, setting forth a colossal amount of warmth.

“Sweet dreams, my love.” 

No matter how much you told him you hated your voice, Seokmin just couldn’t get enough of it. He loved the sweetness to it. He said it gave him strength. He said it was always the first thing that came to his mind every morning and the last sound he'd imagine before closing his eyes. He was in love with the lamblike tune that came from your lips even when they came out breathy, croaky, or slightly going wide of the right notes. 

So you weren’t surprised when he brought you to Jihoon’s studio, claiming that he wanted to hear your voice every second of his day. Of course, you did everything you could to resist.

“Love, please?” He begged you again and again. “We’ll sing together, it’s gonna be alright.” 

The only reason you eventually agreed was because you couldn't risk living without his voice holding you together.

Jihoon’s studio was Jihoon’s home. You could tell by the recording tools tending to his need every time he pressed a button, the outcome seeming to be just what he wanted. The oyster pail and a pair of chopsticks sloppily abandoned on his coffee table. The tall stack of wrinkled pillows sitting on the edge of the couch. The subtle beat coming from his headphones. Just the way he seemed to blend in with everything there.

Seokmin gave your hand a reassuring squeeze when it was your turn to sing. He tapped on your hand, tallying with the rhythm so you would stay in beat. His smile stayed apparent for as long as you sang. When it came to the harmonising part, he manoeuvred in the poky room to sing behind you while still keeping your fingers locked together. Jihoon, the man with no tolerance for physical affection whatsoever, blushed at the sight.

The thing about Seokmin was that although he had a voice that sounded like it came from the heavens, he would make you forget that you were singing with someone as good as him. He would obliterate the invisible weight on your shoulders and make you feel that you had the voice of an angel too.

“That’s a wrap!” Jihoon said from the other side of the glass. He had a bottle of coke in his hand.

“Thanks hyung!” Seokmin shouted. He kissed your brow. “Told you it wasn’t that bad.”

That evening you had a thought:

Every relationship has its own clear-cut tribulations. So when yours didn’t have one, you were starting to wonder if something should’ve happened by now.

And then it did. 

Amidst the unbroken stridulating of crickets in the howling wind, there was a subtle knock on your door. It was Seokmin. A huge box of pizza wasn’t the only thing he brought. There was news. News that would eventually augment his world but demolish yours to rack and ruin. You felt nauseous, mostly.

“I’m leaving the country in a month.” He spoke while holding your hand. “An overseas agency saw a video someone uploaded of me and they wanted to cast me. It apparently went viral.”

“Seokmin..” you said in a hushed tone, restraining your tears. “I mean that’s great news! But that only means-”

“That we won’t see each other again for quite some time love.” He squeezed your hand, not wanting to look at you for his eyes were already brimming with crystal tears.

“How long?” You said quietly.

Seokmin paused for too long, you thought. “I don't know love, but we’ll work it out right?”

The tears that adorned your eyes finally went coursing down your cheeks. Seokmin witnessed this and everything in him broke.

He rubbed your back, calming you as he kissed your neck. He started to hum an all too familiar melody. Starting it slow and gentle while placing soft kisses on your cheek. He pulled away and continued singing even as the colour in his eyes grew feeble.

You couldn’t find it in you to join him. You were too weak. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. But you wanted to listen to him, to the voice that used to battle waves in the ocean and void the air of gloom over the clouds. Especially because the song was yours and his. An all too familiar song with all too familiar memories, and with him leaving in a month, the song would be the only piece of him you’d have near.

So you let him sing to you. You let him sing for you. You let the lyrics imprint in your head. Let them stick to you like glue. Seokmin kissed the wet tail of tears that ran down your cheeks. You cherished the kiss.

He started kissing your jaw while his fingers played with the hem of your shirt, slowly making its way underneath it. You held him, still sobbing. His fingers started moving toward your chest, as if he was searching for something.

“S-seokmin, what are you doing?” You stuttered from the remnants of teardrops that still threatened to fall. 

“Shh,” he hushed you, still buried in your neck. “Just let me make love to you darling.”

You didn’t resist him. You weren’t in your right frame of mind, but even then you wanted him. Your thoughts were everywhere, but every time, he proved to be bigger than them. He had proven again and again that he was your world and you couldn’t escape a world as beautiful as him.

So you laid in bed that night with your hands holding onto his shoulder for support as he thrusted himself inside you. It wasn’t rough, wasn’t messy. He wasn’t selfish, chasing his own high, rather, he let you feel the stream of love gushing through every inch of your body. With every thrust he produced beautiful sounds, with every thrust he conveyed the immense ache in his chest from the thought of living without you by his side. That night, and like every other night he would say, Seokmin made love to you. 

And that night, like every other night, he sang for you.

Departure is a bitter subject. It is wounding, even when someone or something of worth waits at the end of the road. It is painful, even when it’s for the best. Though you prepared yourself for this day, you knew you would never be ready enough. 

“Listen to our song when you miss me.” Seokmin said while holding your cheek in his hand. “I’ll be there. I’m just one song away.” 

“I’m gonna call you when I miss you Seok,” you laughed weakly, voice still hoarse from the long hours you’ve been crying. “but of course, I’ll listen to our song.”

“I will too love, I love you.” Were his final words before bidding farewell to the boys that had also joined in on the heartbreaking little moment. You watched as his figure gradually dissolved into the crowd. He turned to you for the last time and waved, the smile that caught your attention from day one still ever so present on his face. With one last gesture of farewell, he was gone.

Had you known he’d be gone for good, you’d use up more days to admire the surfacing colours of twilight as you leaned on his shoulder. You’d use up more days to share a fervid kiss in the graceful moonlight gleam that danced with your shadows. You wouldn’t have complained when he asked you to sing for him, wouldn’t have resisted when he asked you to sing with him. You’d make love to him every night, every time of the day he wanted to. You’d give him everything he wanted. You’d give him the world. Had you known he’d be gone for good, you never would’ve let him go. 

Never.

You decided to treat the boys to dinner. You knew for a fact that they’ve known Seokmin longer than you have, they must’ve felt the same pang of sentiment. Although they didn’t love him the way you did, they were his brothers. 

Three hours have passed since Seokmin’s plane departed. 

You brought the boys to the restaurant he used to sing at. Their riotous nature and unrestrained laughs that’d appear in between conversations were enough to entirely pretermit the ongoing thoughts you had of Seokmin. Once the group fell silent though, you too fell into a deep yearning for his presence. Seungkwan seemed to notice the subdued change in your expression. He kneaded your back.

“It’s gonna be alright, it’s gonna be alright.” He repeated. You needed those words. You smiled at him, grateful that he knew when to exchange his perky nature for a comforting one.

You turned your phone on. You smiled at the screen. It was a picture of you and Seokmin taken by Jihoon at his studio. It was after you had completed recording your song. 

You remembered it was Seokmin that had come up with the outline of the lyrics. You had proposed a few romantic lines, which he instantly integrated to the song. You also thought he would be singing it alone. You laughed at how naive you’d been.

You already missed him. You took your earphones out of your purse and plugged it into your phone. You leaned against the chair, admiring the view you had of the boys, Seokmin’s honey voice immediately filling your ears. 

But something wasn’t right. Not all of them were conversing in their jovial manner. Jeonghan’s gaze was hooked to his phone, his forehead seemingly wrinkled a little too much. Just as you were about to call his name, he silenced the group first.

“Hey, I don’t mean to freak you guys out or anything, but,” he continued, bringing his phone to face you and the boys. It was a trending news, something about a plane. “Isn’t that Seokmin’s flight number?” 

“It is..” you struggled to breathe. “Why is it on the news?”

Jeonghan avoided eye contact as soon as he realised the horror.

“There was an accident. A plane crash. I think Seokmin’s in it.” 

You had found yourself more often praying that all of this had been a dream, or wishing that you had been able to foretell the future that waited, more than you were trying to accept the work of fate. 

You had found yourself begging countless times for the heavens to bring him back, and you were sick of it. You were sick of yourself acting like this, knowing that it wouldn’t happen no matter how many times you cried and begged. Knowing that you couldn’t escape it. You just had to accept it. 

And it sure was hard.

But with all the things Seokmin had taught you while he lived, he had also taught you to be strong. He had taught you to erase whatever tears were beseeching to leave an ugly colour on your golden features, and get back up. He had promised you that no matter what happened, he’d always be there for you. And he wanted you to be strong, for him.

So there you were, standing tall at the podium before everyone else on the day of the wake. You dressed as Seokmin would’ve loved it. You swallowed all the humdrum tears before they could shape in your eyes and started your speech, which was really, just a proclamation of love.

“Lee Seokmin was like the sole streak of light that seeped through a hole in the clouds on a gloomy day. He was always there to lighten up the mood, to put a smile on everyone’s face.” 

“and his voice. His voice was heavenly. There aren’t even enough words to describe it, and you would know if you’ve heard him sing.” 

You looked up at the boys smiling at you, some nodding their head in agreement and some attempting to hide the tears forming in their eyes. You continued.

“He was like a dream. He was too perfect, I sometimes wonder if he’s even real.” The audience followed you as you smiled. 

“But he is,” you nodded, “he is real, and to receive such an immense amount of love from him, every single day of my life, the feeling is just surreal.”

At this point most of the boys weren’t even trying to deny their tears. 

You knew Seokmin was watching. Somewhere up there. You knew that although you couldn’t feel his love the same way anymore, it’s still there. And as long as you lived, it would still be there.

“Seokmin gifted me a song before he left,” you glanced at Jihoon, sweetly smiling back at you, “it’s our love story that I will treasure with all my heart.  At first, I thought this song would be the only piece of memory I’d have of him,”

“but he has also gifted me this love that’s growing inside me.”

You looked down toward your stomach, to the little bump that was quietly sticking out. You gave it a delicate and gentle caress, the kind that Seokmin would give you after he made love to you. You beamed at the breathtaking sight, your hand still resting on the loving curve as you faced the audience for the last time and finished off your speech. 

Seokmin was an angel. He didn’t deserve the evil within this world. But he was finally free, and although you could never deny the prick of grief that dwelled inside you ever since his passing, you were now relieved more than anything else. He was home. He was where angels should be.

You looked up into the sky with a flicker of hope in the eyes he used to adore so dearly.

“Until we meet again my love.”

[isaacthedruid]

Steven Universe’s Representation and Music: an informal essay

As the first animated Cartoon Network show created entirely by a woman, Steven Universe’s run lasted for five seasons, a movie and a sequel-epilogue series. The show was far from perfect and its fandom wasn’t the best either but there is something so special about a show that followed lesbian space rocks and a young boy saving the world.

More specifically Steven Universe is about a young boy named Steven, who is half-Gem, half-human who protects the town of Beach City from evil. Gems are a kind of alien who take on the form of pastel-coloured women, to better assimilate with the rest of the world.

Rebecca Sugar, the creator, explains her colourful characters in a behind-the-scenes promo:

“I always dreamed of making a show that would have this mix of fantasy and reality. So, I wanted to make these fantasy characters that enjoy being with Steven as much, if not more than they enjoy being fantasy characters. The characters aren’t perfect and that’s what makes them so great.”

Steven’s family are known as the Crystal Gems, a group of rebels who fought against their government thousands of years ago and now live on earth. Steven’s mom, Rose Quartz was at the forefront of the fight, she did extremely terrible things and when she gave up her gem—-so Steven could be born—-she was left unable to form a body ever again. Steven, with only his dad and three alien women, must attempt to fix her messes and deal with the repercussions of his mother’s actions.

One of the main mechanics within the series is known as fusion, in which two or more Gems become a single being who is stronger and more powerful. The fused form takes on the physical, mental and emotional aspects of those who are part of the bond. As mentioned and discussed many times within this blog, fusions are a physical embodiment of different kinds of relationships. And for a show starring a primarily female cast, they do not shy away from using this mechanic to tell queer stories.

So explicitly that in 2018, the show had the first-ever lesbian wedding in a cartoon. Of course, representation wasn’t always as accepted in Steven Universe. Just two years before the big wedding, higher-ups at Cartoon Network told Rebecca Sugar, they not happy with the multiple queer relationships, so much so that they were ready to threaten cancellation.

In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, she expressed:

“If this is going to cost me my show that’s fine because this is a huge injustice and I need to be able to represent myself and my team through this show and anything less would be unfair to my audience.”

Being LGBT herself, identifying as bisexual and non-binary, representation is important to her. For many queer people, especially grown-ups, they hope to see themselves represented in kids’ media today as they never had growing up. They want nothing more for children’s shows to say that being “different” or not fitting in with our heteronormative society is actually normal.

Within Steven Universe, you can find woman-loving-woman relationships, non-binary and intersex characters, woman-loving-non-binary relationships, asexual coded characters and basically every other letter in the acronym.

Rebecca Sugar even acted as the exciting force for LGBT inclusion within Adventure Time, originally working as a writer and storyboard artist before leaving to create her own show. She pushed for making the ex-romantic queer couple to be canonically part of the story and for it to not just coded into the dialogue.

A few years later, she returned to the show, multiple times, to compose over 20 songs that would air over the series 10-year-long run such as, “I’m Just Your Problem” which had lesbian subtext that would be confirmed later.

Some other iconic songs including “Fry Song“, “Remember You“, “Good Little Girl“, “Everything Stays” and even the finale song, “Time Adventure“.

Much like the show as a whole, there is something so special about the music she writes. In total, there were over 160 songs written for the franchise, some being short little tunes, no longer than a minute while others were full-blown musical numbers. No matter, all of them have their place within the show. Often when the character can’t express lines through speech, music is utilized to provide a more raw and poignant portrayal of their emotions.

Why Steven Universe is so widely loved is due to the music, as the overall story is not even close to perfect. Yet, everyone can agree on one thing, the music is unbelievably good. What is interesting is the different styles of melodies and backtracking used in the various songs, even more impressive is that every character has their own instrumental motif.

Steven’s motif is the ukelele as he is often seen playing the instrument himself, performing short little melodies and even writing the in-show version of the theme song. Additionally, Steven’s music uses a large amount of Chiptune synth, electronic music which is created using a programmable sound generator. Both instruments have a very childlike feeling to them, Chiptune especially as it is normally used in video game music like The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, one of the main musical inspirations for the show. As Steven is the lead, most of the music has Chiptune somewhere in the score and fun fact, the first song in the show, sung by Steven, “Cookie Cat” was actually written on an old Gameboy.

Amethyst is very loud and fun, her motif is electric drums which is extremely reflective of her character. As she can be angry from convincing herself that she is not good enough to happy and giggling from pranking Steven, her instrument can be used in so many ways as she is not a simple character. No matter what, for the few songs Amethyst has on her own (or in the score), her drums provide such an interesting emotional response to the situation.

Garnet is a fusion, so her motif is actually the combination of two instruments. Ruby is a drumbeat as she is a fiery and loud character, she is chaotic while Sapphire is her opposite. Sapphire is calm and collected, she has ice-related powers and is represented by Synth music. The characters together have a perfect unity, expressed by Garnet’s synth bass sounds, she is the equilibrium of two very contrasting characters. The music associated with Garnet, uses primarily the synth bass but Ruby and Sapphire’s individual instruments can be heard throughout her music. All three instruments are also heavily representative as Garnet’s main dancing style is Hip Hop which clashing with others’ softer dancing styles.

Despite, not being alive during the show, Rose Quartz still has her own musical motif as she plays a large part in Steven’s growth throughout the series. As well as being in many flashbacks, she is represented with strings, more specifically, the violin. Rose’s story is rather sad which quite is visible within her associated music, yet, she was also an extremely powerful character as she led the fight against the Homeworld government. Her strength can be heard with strong uplifts and swells in the music. She is never seen playing an instrument unlike the rest of the main characters but one person who plays hers is Pearl, a character Rose was possibly in love with.

For the complex and beautiful character, Pearl, her motif is classical and swing piano. She is visually represented as a ballerina for a large majority of the series, dressed in a leotard, a small skirt and ballet shoes. Apart from Garnet, she is one of the calmest characters in the show. She is a perfectionist and is knowledgeable on many topics. She has a dark past and her fair share of trauma, all of this is wrapped up in her music. From her traumatic past with Rose Quartz, the violin had been heard throughout her music, yet, when she finally dealt with everything, the violin was lost. Swapped out for a new instrument, a bass guitar which she learned how to play at the end of the series. Pearl is a character who has been through a lot and her music reflects it. As she grew, her music changed with her, becoming her own instead of something built off of Rose’s.

My personal favourite song is “It’s Over Isn’t It?” which is this heartwrenching and emotionally painful ballad sung by a broken woman. Pearl was in love with Steven’s mom. Yet, the feelings were not mutual or at least ended being reciprocated as Rose left her for Greg, Steven’s dad. It hurts because Rose didn’t just leave her, Rose Quartz also passed away. As the song goes:

That they didn’t really matter until you I was fine when you came And we fought like it was all some silly game Over her, who she’d choose After all those years, I never thought I’d lose … You won and she chose you and she loved you and she’s gone It’s over, isn’t it? Why can’t I move on? … Who am I now in this world without her? Petty and dull with the nerve to doubt her What does it matter? It’s already done Now I’ve got to be there for her son

Without Rose, Pearl has lost her place in the world as all she ever knew was her. Yet, now she is left to help raise a half-human baby and go on with her life. It makes it more difficult as this baby is the product of Rose and the man that she left Pearl for.

Pearl doesn’t want to hate Greg, she is angry at him but she doesn’t have hatred towards him. They may not be the best of pals at the start of the series but in the song called “Both of You“ has Steven, finally, begging for Greg and Pearl to just talk to each other.

Why don’t you talk to each other? Why don’t you talk to each other? Just give it a try Why don’t you talk about what happened? … You might not believe it but you got a lot in common, you really do You both love me and I love both of you … I know you both need it Someone who knows what you’re going through

An interesting thing about this song is that Steven is this to them, the person with Rose’s gem is singing to the two people who fought over Rose. It makes me wonder if this could be Rose speaking through Steven to her two loved ones. Whether it is or not, doesn’t really matter to the overall story but it is a fun idea to look at.

Overall, these songs are a literal representation of dealing with ones’ emotions in a healthy way, something that Steven Universe actively tries to teach their younger viewers about.

To say Steven Universe is a good show only for its music would be a false statement, it’s one of the strongest aspects but without the story or the characters, the music would fall flat and not have any of its passion.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Italy brings the rock’n’roll youth of tomorrow to Rotterdam 2021

It’s the final day of doing my yet again botched attempt at a review series and I’ve been dying to post my gigantic write-up for my newly beloved Italy, at the top of the bookies, darling of all hearts, ready to rock Eurovision, and even more! Vai vai~

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Representing them this year is Måneskin, a band made up of four - singer and possibly the hottest motherfucker to grace the planet Earth Damiano, guitarist Thomas, drummer Ethan, and the cherry on top - bassist Victoria, whose half-Danish heritage is the reason Måneskin is called Måneskin (= Moonshine). They thought of this name at a “battle of the bands” that they won, thinking they might as well change it to something different, but in the end... say it with me now

They have known each other since highschool, made a band in 2016, won the “battle of the bands”, started out making a living as buskers in the streets of Rome, from which they gradually grew through playing small gigs, and later tried out for X Factor Italia season 11, on which they came 2nd.

They went on to release an EP titled after their debut single of the name of the song above, including some of their X Factor covers, and later on got to get big through releasing an album, getting it certified all kinds of goodnesses, having singles from that album be popular, even releasing a documentary of themselves... they’ve done so much in life and they’re only 20-22 years old... aw man, the life is just ahead of them, for them to be so young and win Sanremo on their first try. (And I’ve always wanted them for Eurovision ever since I was aware of their existence, because their music is very nice, and they just feel like charming human beings. So imagine my joy seeing them announced for Sanremo 2021? And them WINNING months later??? man what kind of luck do I have even if just for a year lmao <333)

“Zitti e buoni”, the last song title alphabetically this year, is purely of the band’s making, and the lyrics are talking about not abiding the rules in general, how they’re out of their minds but they’re not like “them”, and how people talk but don’t know what they’re talking at all.

REVIEW

IT’S A PRETTY CRAZY GOOD ROCK SONG AMEN HALLELUJAH OPRAH WOOOOOOO

wbk I love it. Yeah sure it might be composited of something that sounds like standard rock riffs and what not, but it’s the ENERGY that goes into it that gets me more excited for this than for Finland, a fellow rock song of this year’s final.

Damiano’s vocals have the specific kind of rockstar tinge to them, and they’re very complimenting to the song. The way he says everything is beautiful, the “e buonasera signore e signori” line in particular is just a moment that shows the beginning of power somehow, I don’t know. The chorus is great, eventhough it’s just one line repeated but it changes the pronoun each time (going from “I’m out of my mind” to “you’re out of your mind” to “we’re out of my mind”) - MAGICAL.

And the bridge. YES, the bridge. Along with the outro it’s the best part of the song. The chord progression. The lines repeated on that bridge. The emotions going on. The delivery of the lines of the emotion. It’s a convincing little bridge, to the point that it sounds just as great with violins! Wish they brought one, because according to Love Love Peace Peace, nothing screams winner quite like a violin.

God damn to the Måneskinsters pump this song up to the maximum. It was originally a ballad song, and I think that’s for the better for them to present it as a rock song, because a Sanremo ballad in a pool of Sanremo ballads... unless it stands out according to demoscopic & press juries, and there seems to be a no better option at hand that could make them stand out other than just sending a classy ballad, it just fizzles out in a spectacularly lame fashion. Måneskin’s one real shot through was with a song that would make them stand out, and they did it, and they’re here.

Everyone has put in their work, their passion, their skills into this, and it shows off in spades. Måneskin themselves are fantastic and chill human beings, who too, just like Flo Rida, get to enjoy how crazy amazing Eurovision experience is. And for that I salute them with my whole heart. Whatever they do tonight on Eurovision, they’ll leave a lasting mark in it. And for a good reason.

Also an Italian Eurovision edit that doesn’t suck, once again, yay! (In their defense, they didn’t have a whole lot to work with, so they released theirs early - just a few trimmings here and there, and a lyric change so that they skate by EBU easier with their anti-swearing policies. Gahddamn swearing~)

Approval factor: FUCK YES Follow-up factor: The funny thing about this is that last year their entry is about making noise but the song was a love ballad, this year it’s a song titled “shut up and behave” while dressed in a loudest motherfucking musical setting lol. Fuck the rules! It was solely on the Sanremo’s last year’s winner Diodato not to send an entry he thought that would fit for Sanremo, and that’s good on him - he can return next year replenished as all hell, and maybe aim for the trophy again? wishful thinking? aaaa. Anyway on a personal scale “Zitti e buoni” is a marvelous follow-up from “Fai rumore”, even if skipping 2020 entirely, especially after “Soldi”, which was already a fab follow-up after “Non mi avete fatto niente”, and even from “Occidentali’s Karma” on. And so it is subjectively a good follow-up. Italy SLAYS. AQ factor: As I write this, the odds are very much in their favour, if not a little bit too persuaded over the fact that Måneskin gave a good rock performance and knew what they would be doing, or it’s just that the Italians like overbetting for their acts way too damn much. But nevertheless, I just wanna hope for them to break the expectations people set on rock songs in Eurovision and SMASH themselves a victory. Or a top 2. Or a top 5-10. Anything will do, goddamn.

NF CORNER

Well, I promised that I will talk about Sanremo in a NF corner, because this is the first year I actually cared to watch it myself, unlike when I would’ve sided with someone whose reviewing style I love in not caring to watch it, and usually just check all the songs on the last day lol.

One thing about Sanremo that I sorely underestimate is that a handful of artists on there can come across as very versatile, and the one song you loved of one genre they presented several years ago, can be completely different and leave you baffled for days if you’re not very familiarized with their discography and the Italian music scene in general. Which now I’m going to pay an extreme amount of attention towards following Sanremo 2022 on out because hot damn did I never see gems like Willie Peyote coming!

Did I call him a gem over his entry? Yes, somehow. Am I even sure if I’m being serious?

I think I can somewhat agree when I say that for the international fam watching Sanremo at least, “Mai dire mai (La locura)” was a major expectation destroyer, at least for the crowd whose main lookouts in a lineup like this years were Ermal Meta, Annalisa, Arisa, etc. You know they’re gonna bring a ballad, and their ballads are usually decent, but what about the unexpected? That’s where a handful of acts, including Willie, comes in for me. The bass hooks in the second the song starts. The beat is minimalistic but strong enough to slap. The steady rap flow is mesmerizing, paired with that somewhat specifically Italian(?) vocal timbre. The chorus is greatly catchy, and it is a sung chorus, with this song still being largely a rap song. The electric-esque guitar soundwaves interspersed throughout the song are magnificent and magical, and on the chorus they even make a constant melody riff that repeats and may get annoying on multiple listens, but I still adore them. I really love the bridge as well and all that goes into it. A fantastic surprise of the season for me personally.

Now I figure that the lyrics may hinder the enjoyment for some, especially the points raised in some lines that may seem questionable and shady (if this went to Eurovision and got a “twerking” comment on Youtube, I will not be surprised if the description of choice is “patriarchic twerking”), but am I supposed to be fully offended at some points of it if I’m not its target audience, although I see some of what I do nowadays in those lines? “Mai dire mai” is probably dedicated to the Italian media and the Italian trends and what not. I’m not even disappointed it didn’t win, because if it went to Eurovision, it would’ve likely been met like a lesser “Occidentali’s Karma” - catchy song with lyrics that fly over listener’s heads which might as well be very accidentally mocking how we live our lives.

“Mai dire mai” has just less of a memorability-in-history value and no memorable gimmicks (Francesco had a gorilla, what is it visually going for on Willie’s performance?), besides, it would’ve suffered even WORSE post-Eurovision-edit than OK has - a lot of the bits and bobs that pass me by but when I notice them they make a really great entry, but other than the (presumably copyrighted) removal of a sample from a TV series (spoken by a fish character, nonetheless), what else is there to remove???? With Eurovision’s rules specifying that brands (Spotify, TikTok) and swearwords (lots of the good old Italian ones that Italian radios would digitally scratch out to emphasize that there were a LOT in the second verse) can’t be sung live, the song loses some of its lyrical charm. And you can’t just go around the song like Francesco Gabbani chopping off entire verses full of content full of witty lyrics and a reference to Chanel in order to present the more lyrically singable-along-to lines and not let go of the long chorus to whom his gorilla can dance to. “Mai dire mai” is RIFE with lyrics, that’s what a rap song is. It would have absolutely fallen apart.

Also no one paged it as a potential Eurovision winner during Sanremo, at least seriously, and it doesn’t have much that would have clicked with the future Eurovision generation and contestants when they would be asked to name their favourite Eurovision song of all times. In a world where from Italy they really like “Grande amore” and “Soldi” and even sometimes could name “Occidentali’s Karma”, is there really a place for “Mai dire mai (La locura)” over “Zitti e buoni”? Who would be naming that song as their favourite of all time? If you raised a hand, you lie to yourself, because that would’ve been me.

Now I don’t know how many of the Tumblr fam would draw ire at me putting out paragraphs worth of me being ultra positive towards this song, because as I’ve learned, there’s an ironic and unironic audience for Mr. Peyote on Tumblr especially, but for me I guess it was pretty worthy, also a thing I was finally able to yell off my chest since, and now I finally said it, I will continue streaming “Mai dire mai (La locura)” in peace.

He might’ve not won Sanremo, but his song won the equally important Mia Martini Critics Award, and also, my heart. Rest in broken shards of the Boris aquarium, my sweet cynical prince~

Måneskin were my 2nd after him so I’m equally happy they won. But what about my other favourites?

• Extraliscio ft. Davide Toffolo - Bianca luce nera A diluted version of the liscio genre, still makes for a very fascinatingly catchy and swaying song with lots of great instruments that are violins and a clarinet. What I figure is kinda a love song. Their performances were also great, with lots of dancers on stage and a genuinely great fun to be had, and you may remember them more after their performance in cover night, which was titled “Rosamunda”. They were the ones with their main singer’s guitar spinning for whatever reason that was there to make their song catchy, I guess.

• Lo Stato Sociale - Combat Pop A little bit of a far cry from their glory heydays with 2nd place in Sanremo 2018, but they returned with an equally banging song and an amazing set of performance chaos they brought in each and every time - dedicating their first night’s one to making a performance to not forget (and being the ones of two to reference the great Bugo&Morgan incident from last year, the other being Willie Peyote), the second competitive one was for referencing politics, and so on.

• Colapesce & Dimartino - Musica leggerissima Sweet melancholic song with the shades of Sebastien Tellier kinda sound, this song may seem jolly at first, but the especially melancholic undertones denote that there’s something else going on. It’s actually about depression, as that’s what the term “musica leggerissima” (very light music) means. But it still found a heart in Italian listeners and the Italian world finally woke up to how great Antonio Di Martino and Lorenzo “Colapesce” Urciullo are, and a handful of viewers were slightly heartbroken to see it not place in the superfinal top 3. Who knows if they would’ve actually won over Måneskin. I just know that their rollerskater girlie is so damn fine~

Bugo has also returned but I think his redemption arc started off the wrong foot, as his return entry, “E invece si”, was a bloated showtune ballad and got obnoxious to listen to at part. I declared to myself that night when I first heard the new entry that regarding on what made “Sincero” great, I side with Morgan.

And a special shout out to Ghemon, whose 2019 song was more than just a “purple rose” unlike I noted on a last proper Italian entry review. I don’t know what expectations I had for him, but I certainly wanted to love “Momento perfetto” more at the first listen, which was also somewhat of a show-tuney piece, but with a bit more funk and pizzazz, also Ghemon was VERY much vibing with his song, and that made me feel great for the few other performances of it that I saw the following days. It’s definitely a grower song, and around 2 months after Sanremo I fell into a bit of a rabbit-hole of his earlier music discovering, and I may be a bit exaggerating but, give Ghemon a bit more of acknowledgement and a stellar enough song, and with a little bit of magic touch, I can maybe see him lifting the Golden Lion trophy one day. Don’t ask why. (also lovely music video for his 2021 entry, which replaces continuous spinning in an aesthetic area to everybody moving their body in a diner (hopefully with everyone in the MV tested and been negative for long enough for the MV to actually happen).)

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

There’s so much needed to be discussed about there. So I’ll restrict myself to the moments that I remember and cherish:

• Rosario Fiorello. Just. Him.

• And the gentleman next to him, Achille Lauro.

tw // body piercing

Belarus 2018 could never

Fiorello and Lauro are perfect matches to each other’s worlds of imagination, and I was more than ever glad to see so much creativity coming from each one of them, a host and a nightly interval act respectively.

• Once again, “Rosamunda Medley” by Extraliscio, I didn’t watch the cover night in its entirety but I think it’s good enough of a medley if it got a 3rd place from the cover night from the orchestra!

• Sanremo Newcomers section of this year. I liked or vibed to almost every song out of the 8, and I’m decently happy with the winner, but if there’s one big shoutout I really want to make, is to “Regina” by Davide Shorty, for it’s such a cozy funky little love song that always makes me happy when I hear it. My personal winner preference, but I don’t mind Davide getting 2nd! For as long as he gets to place 1st in a future main Sanremo event hihihihihi

• Diodato proving himself to be a dance king at the beginning of his “Che vita meravigliosa” performance, my good Twitter friend made a bunch of videos where he dances to a lot of songs, as per request, check them out and you won’t forget it.

• Since Sanremo 2021 got rid of the audience as per COVID regulations and much to Amadeus’s dread, there ended up quite a handful of audience related memes. Such as the penis balloon et al.

• Remember when Sanremo 2021 audience was supposed to be whisked away in a cruise ship for safety measures? Pepperidge Farm remembers

• SESSO IBUPROFENEEEEEEEE

The guy that sang this song actually has the same birthday as me, so in my eyes, I feel like he has some charm to it. I’m biased lol sorry

There’s way too many more but I am afraid of flooding my post beyond your readability interest. Let’s hope that, in an event of Italy’s victory or non, we’ll get to see an even more iconic event of Sanremo emerge come the future. <3

ANY LAST WORDS?

Måneskin’s big goal was to rock Eurovision, and I think they’ve greatly accomplished that by just... doing what they do best, and that is, rocking. They leave energy lasting for days.

In bocca al lupo, fam. You’ll nail it, and even if you don’t win, Italy shouldn’t not hail you as national heroes after it’s all over.

[miellafics]

The Boy-Who-Dreamed, a Harry Potter x Go! Princess Precure Fanfiction

Prologue

(originally posted on my fanfiction.net and wattpad pages @SakuraPages. I’m posting all of the chapters here before i resume writing them, so let me know what you all think! let’s begin the story!)

Towa sat facing the window of her immaculate room in the Hope Kingdom Palace, the beautiful melody of her violin filling the silence within it. Her two fairy companions, Pafu and Aroma, sat silently on her bed, nodding off to sleep and enjoying the lovely tune. Miss Shamour, her advisor and best friend, sat next to the other two fairies in human form. Towa stopped at once when she heard a knock at the door, but did not bother to direct her gaze towards it. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of that window.

“Come in,” she said quietly.

“You have been playing that song everyday since they left, my dear little sister. Do you not think that perhaps we should move on?” Kanata questioned as he made his way over to Towa’s nightstand, glancing at the three Dress Up Keys and her Princess Perfume sitting atop it.

They were gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight, waiting for a chance to be awakened once again. “It’s really been a year since they left, hasn’t it?”

“It has, my brother. Even still, it feels nice to reminisce on the fun times we had with them.” Towa closed her eyes, remembering the day she was reverted from Twilight to Towa.

She had been so lost, sad and confused then. But somehow, Haruka, Minami, Kirara and Yui slowly showed her how to smile again. And then, the next monumental moment came; the day she became a Precure. Her dream of becoming a Grand Princess was finally in reach, and then, she actually became one. Her wildest, grandest dreams had finally come true, and she owed it all to them. How in the world was she to simply just move on? She decided to try and take her mind off of it, raising her violin to her chin once again when...

CRASH!!

Her window had been burst open and dark, hooded figures flooded the bedroom.

“Yes, YES!!” A deep, wretched voice pierced the ears of the Royal Siblings and their fairies.

“The most powerful magical objects in the universe will soon be MINE! A great thanks to you, Close, my dear friend, for these Dress Up Keys you speak of shall bring us eternal power!”

“Yes, yes, Voldemort. Soon, we shall rule over Hope Kingdom and all of the earth!!” Close cackled, making Towa sick to her stomach.

The eyes of the young princess widened. “Close? He’s back? Who’s that man he’s with Who is Voldemort?”

Towa let out a scream as a piece of the wall flew overhead. Kanata summoned his Royal Staff and conjured up a shield, gritting his teeth as he attempted to hold off the many unknown spells being fired at them.

The young princess quickly scooped Pafu into her arms as Aroma perch on her shoulder, both of whom were now very much awake after the sudden loud noises. Miss Shamour summoned her staff, preparing to defend the princess at all costs.

Towa shoved her Dress Up Keys and her Princess Perfume into her pocket. They began shining for the first time in a year, almost serving as a beacon for the hooded figures.

“There! That girl! She has some of the Dress Up Keys! GET HER!” the mysterious voice screeched while pointing a willowy finger straight at her.

“Kanata! What do we do?” Towa yelled over all of the chaos. The hooded figures were making quick work of Kanata’s shield by way of some unidentifiable spells of various colors; it wouldn’t be long before the barrier fell.

Miss Shamour began firing back at some of the cloaked henchmen, and the spells seemed to hit their targets. Still, it seemed that the remaining henchmen only fired back harder. As she fought, she realized that the name Voldemort seemed...familiar.

“I didn’t think I’d be caught up in this predicament again,” she thought. “It seems that I’ll have to make a visit to an old friend.”

“Towa, listen to me! I need you to scatter the Dress Up Keys and make your way back to Earth. Find Haruka and the others. We need them!” Kanata shouted, his heel sliding back as he attempted to fortify the shield.

Towa’s eyes were beginning to get clouded by tears, and, though she couldn’t see it, Kanata’s eyes were doing the same.

“Brother, I can’t just leave you here! You won’t make it!” She pleaded with him, knowing he would make her do.

“I’ll be okay, but make sure to get the Dress Up Keys and yourself to safety. Make sure to watch over Pafu and Aroma as well. They’ll need you now more than ever. Miss Shamour, you are to accompany and guide her. Now, go!”

“But Kana-”

“There’s no time to argue, Towa! GO!!”

Towa fought back her tears as she burst through her bedroom door and rushed down the corridor, desperate to make it to the other Dress Up Keys. As she looked around, it seemed that the rest of the castle had fallen into chaos as well; Close and his partner’s henchmen had wrecked most of her beloved home. More henchmen seizing the castle spotted Towa and the fairies, and they immediately began firing at them from all directions. Miss Shamour quickly summoned a barrier and beckoned the group to keep running. She turned her head around and quickly noticed that Close and Voldemort’s henchman had made it past Kanata and were now coming for them. Towa had turned around and noticed them too.

“KANATA!! Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you! Please just be okay!” she thought to herself as she picked up her pace. Pafu had begun to cry and Aroma wasn’t too far away from crying as well.

They finally made it to the sanctuary of the Dress Up Keys with just barely enough time to close and lock the door. Towa put a hand to her heart, tears streaming down her face as she voiced her plea to the magical artifacts.

“Dress Up Keys, hear my prayer! Scatter from this place; you are not safe here!”

All twelve of the Dress Up Keys immediately to glow as the room began to shake. Each Key sent out a ray of pure energy which collided with one another at the center of the room. The result was a portal which led to a place all too familiar: Noble Academy.

“Everyone, come quickly, before they make their way in here!” Miss Shamour shouted.

Towa and her fairy companions sprinted through the portal just as Close and his comrade’s henchmen busted down the door.

The Dress Up Keys were quickly sucked into the portal, following Towa and the fairies to Earth before immediately closing off the portal.

“Kanata, please be okay…” A single tear streamed down her cheek as Noble Academy came closer into view.

“Dammit, she got away!” one of the henchmen yelled as he stomped his foot to the ground. “The Dark Lord and Close will not be happy about this!”

"Don't worry," said Close, as he and the Dark Lord, known as Voldemort, strolled into the room. “I know just where to find her. There's only one place that brat would go," he sneered as he opened a portal to Earth.

“Voldemort, take your Death Eaters back continue to lay siege on the palace. I’ll take care of this. It’s...personal,” Close said as an evil sneer painted his face.

Voldemort returned the expression and nodded. “Very well. You know where to find us. Take care of it.” He and his minions and exited the sanctuary, continuing to terrorize the palace and the whole of Hope Kingdom.

Little did Towa know that somewhere far, far away, a small teenage boy with emerald green eyes and a lightning-bolt scar had just seen the same events, and he was left alone, gazing upon the glowing moon from his bed and wondering what it could’ve all meant. “Who was that princess?” he wondered. “And, more importantly,

what does Voldemort want with her?”

[axther]

Hello first of all I really love ur blog 🥺 ur writing is just so good ugh 🥰 if you have the time I was wondering if I could get a matchup for bnha? I’m an INFP, bisexual girl. I’m 5’9” and I’m a little bit insecure about it. My main hobbies are playing violin and fish keeping. I’m told I have a resting bitch face and I’m very selective when it comes to friends but when I do make friends I’m very close with them and goofy. I’m very big on affection (touch starved gang where y’all at) (1/2)

touch starved gang is here 😔 also for note i gave u a hint of a siren quirk bc fishy!!! swimmy!! song!!! 

#1 is…Bakugou!

God...the balance…

this shit is EXQUISITE

So hear me out 

But Bakugou is ridiculously expressive, 

just not on most of the good stuff

While you tend to be a bit guarded

But you’re very sweet, when it comes down to it 

So the fact that y’all are two sides of the same coin was really obvious 

Now lemme say 

Bakugou may be mean, but he can also be very, very soft

He wants to hike with you!! 

He wants to swim with you!! 

You guys are cleaning out the tank?? 

He’ll hold the fishbowl with the fishes in them!! 

He takes it very seriously!! 

You want to swim and practice your quirk?? 

Though he can’t use his quirk in water, he’ll absolutely ask you to help him practice

By shooting water at him while he uses his quirk

*insert zuko throwing water gif that I couldn’t FUCKING find but please bear with me, it’s him throwing a bucket of water at a firebender, and it extinguishes the fire and he attacks the dude*

Like that!! 

God he really loves the dynamic you guys have

He’s not too crazy into PDA, per se 

But you want to give him a kiss on the cheek? Hold hands? 

He’s won’t argue 

He will get embarrassed but let’s be honest he would be incredibly flattered and happy

this mf wants to cuddle!! 

He may bitch and whine, but at the end of the day

the fucker is the little spoon

Especially after the training camp? 

Yeah he wants to be held, wants to be protected 

Please please please play with his hands while y’all are cuddling 

His hands are the centre of his power

They’re his burden

And with you holding them, poking at the tips of his fingers 

It feels like he can breathe without suffocating 

And some days, when you’re on the couch in the main room

He’ll walk in and he’ll just look so tired

He’ll stand in front of you for a moment before just collapsing over you 

And now you’re smothered by him

But oh my god is he a cuddle bug 

  #2 is…Mina!! 

My first thought??

She’d make goofy faces with your fishes 

Puffing out her cheeks and hold staring contests with them 

And she’ll be giddy the entire time 

Anyone who sees it WILL be soft

She’s your hype wife! 

Plus jetpacking?? 

Yes’m y’all know that’s gonna b happening 

She loves PDA!!!

If you don’t lather her in kisses within ten minutes 

She WILL suffocate you in a hug and just!!! 

Ugh!! She loves you!! 

100% will have her arm slung around your waist 

“This is my girlfriend.” 

“Hi, this is my lover.”  

“Don’t touch my wife!!”

She’s got a policy of look, don’t touch for anyone interested in you

“You like my gf? You may observe. Touch her, though, and I’ll melt your dick.” 

 And though she may seem like a player

She will absolutely stick around 

You want to get married? 

She can and will wear a leopard print tux to her own wedding 

Whenever you play the violin around her she will stop to listen 

It doesn’t matter what you want to play

Or even if you’re just tuning it 

The fact that it’s so harmonious is bliss

When y’all go out she will die of happiness if you wear heels 

And she will flaunt you!! 

Y’all will be walking down the street, and she’s pretty and pink, and beside her is this Amazonian woman with a glare that could kill and heels like knives

But the moment she drags you to the side to see something, and you start smiling softly 

Everyone knows 

And everyone gets really soft bc!!! The dynamic is incredible 

Soft/tall + short/rambunctious? Yes’m!! 

#3 is…Iida! 

mans is 5’10 and unironically thinks you’re short

He genuinely has no idea what you’re worried over

He thinks you’re beautiful and graceful, so why would you be worried about your height?? 

It throws him for a loop ngl 

But either way 

He’s all over it

Takes you home almost immediately 

He is in for the LONG RUNNN

He spoils you!!

Promise rings?? Big ass fish tanks?? A whole ass new violin??

He’s got it for you

Pet names?? yes’m!! 

He’ll call you ‘my dear, my beloved, my sun, my star, my princess, my angel,’ all of the really gooey romantic names under the sun 

While he isn’t very PDA-y, he will be happy to receive a hug! 

No kisses during school hours tho :( that’s not appropriate 

After though??

He best be prepared for smooches!! :D!!

Likes it when you rest your head on his shoulders! 

Makes him feel strong and protective

And speaking of protective…

When someone asks you out, he is not shy in shutting them down

“Excuse me, but I am her boyfriend, and I am ashamed that you would think to ask a taken woman out! Not only that, but that you would consider that she would even cheat! That is absolutely atrocious behaviour in a future hero, and I fully expect better!” 

Y’all would think that he’s a teacher with how he goes off 

[shleezaemour]

The Shadow hunter Major Arcana

I noticed that the shadow hunter tarot did not come with a booklet. Shame, guess I’ll write one. Here is my interpretation of the major arcana of the Shadow hunter Tarot deck. I will be doing the other cards too, but that will take time. I have this section finished so here you go, enjoy!

**The fool!**

Henry Branwell ( The scientist)

Even in the picture Henry is surrounded by his cogs and gears. Always the butt of the joke, but perfectly fine with it. Henry understands that people laugh at him but he knows what he’s doing is for the greater good no matter how many times he fails. The man behind the woman, the levity in the relationship. Brings light and humor to the starkness of Charlottes personality. While he rules in logic, he can see beyond it to create what’s only ever been dreams.

**2nd Fool card!**

Tavvy and Drusilla (The dreamer & the innocent)

Drusilla dreams of glory as she is in the middle of things. She’s too young to go on adventures, and to old to really be a child. While the older kids ignore her for the most part, they don’t understand that keeping her in the dark isn’t going to keep her innocent forever. As Julian said she is the heart of the family, none of them could function without her. While she lives in fantasy with her horror movies and playing the part of secret con man, she just wants to be noticed. Tavvy being the youngest and the baby, is the perfect sign of innocence. Still wanting to be held, still needing someone to keep the nightmares away. Not quite wanting to grow up, because that would mean the nightmares were real. In the picture you see Dru carrying Tavvy, Tavvy has wings on the back of his shirt showing his innocent angelic presence. The scene is at night, showing that Dru is there for him anytime he needs.

Upright : Beginning of a journey, innocence, acting without thinking things through. Potential.

Reverse: Uncertainty, failure to seize the moment.

**The Magcian**

Magnus Bane (The warlock)

Being an immortal gives one a sense of wisdom. Magnus being around for centuries gives him a Scholarly air about him. His kindness and willingness to still trust shows that he understands that history does indeed repeat itself and trust is met with trust. Because he has been there before and bought that T-shirt, he tends to believe everything repeats itself. While it’s good to have the wisdom of seeing patterns, he forgets that occasionally things go a different direction than expected. This makes it hard for him to share his past, due to other people’s reactions to it. Which in turn makes life harder than it had to be. Magnus understands why looking back is important, and also the importance of looking to the future. Finding his true love in a man whom history in a way repeats itself. While he never loved Will Herondale he loved his coloring, now over a hundred years later he finds Alec who has all of Wills beauty being his descendant on his sisters side. Swearing to never involved himself with shadowhunters again, only to fall in love with the boy whose parents he hated and almost had him killed in their youth. Karma works in mysterious ways. In the picture you see on the side table, the book of the white, chairman meow, and Woosley Scott’s snuff box. A clear representation of past present and future.

Upright: Creativity, exploring ones abilities, crafters hands, emerging talent

Reverse: Putting ones gift to ill use, unable to learn, No imagination

**The High Priestess **

Cristina Rosales ( The Believer )

Cristina was raised to be the woman behind a great man, only to become the queen set on a pedestal by many suitors. Even after the pain and hurt caused by all the men in her life she still opens herself to love. This girl is so much woman she needs two men to satisfy her, both seelie and unseelie with a dash of shadowhunter. Strong and deadly with her feminine wiles. Though she may forgive, she never forgets. As was shown with Perfect Diego and Jaime, both forgiven, both betrayals never forgotten. Cristina will give you a second chance, but if you break it you don’t get another one. This Princess of Roses will not be taken for a fool, things will be on her terms or nothing. In the picture you see her infamous butterfly knife pointing right at the black heart. Dressed as she was on her way to fairy with her two loves. In white going against shadowhunter tradition, as is her love life.

Upright: Great Knowledge, wise beyond years, virtuous, a scholar

Reversed: Ignorance, false vision, holding back feelings

**The empress**

Emma Carstairs (The Warrior)

A woman that shows the bloodlust isn’t just a mans realm. Anything you can do she can do better, and in heels. While her search for revenge blinds her to the world around her, she knows how to be the stable rock of a relationship whether its romantic or platonic. The only one worthy of her weapon, never taking no for an answer. Blood and scars are part of her, it’s how she shows her strength and commitment. While her recklessness can get her into trouble, she will not stop until she is the best. As the leader she knows that a good ruler is because of her subjects, and that her partner is there to make her stronger. The love she has for Julian being the only thing that could break her. In strength she even tried to push him away, for his own well being. In the picture you see Emma on a throne of her own as golden as her hair. While many blade sit behind her, only one is worthy enough to be in her hand, Cortana. Her un-lady like stance in the chair shows the air of “Wanna fight about it?”

Upright: Strong female figure, fertility, Maternal

Reversed: Infidelity, home strife, infertility

**The Emperor **

Julian Blackthorn (The artist)

As the silent leader of the family , Julian knows how to make the hard calls without ever showing it was him making them. While his secrets and tricks keep him and his family safe, his constant control of everything around him can come undone in a instant and he knows it. Always the man with the plan. Julian’s ruthless heart can blind him into making poor choices, but his gentle mercy is a soothing balm that no one can turn down while in pain. Forced fatherhood hasn’t dampened him, it’s only made him stronger. Emma by his side showed his unwavering loyalty and how choosing a female Parabatai never made him a weaker man. Even his romantic love for Emma showed strength , the only thing that could make him lose all his self control. Never allowing anyone, even the law stand in his way of what he wanted. For a bad law is no law for the Blackthorn family. Julian in the picture is on a throne showing his position, with paint smeared and thrown carelessly. Showing that even those in power don’t always run the tidy ship. The belt buckle of the ram shows his stubbornness at his center.

Upright: Strong male figure, leadership, ambition, accomplishing something

Reversed: Weakness, indecision, incompetent

**The Hierophant**

Brother Zachariah (The Silent Brother)

A magical man of the cloth. Brother Zachariah traded death for life and knows sacrifice in an intimate way. Never truly changing completely on either side, his love for his parabatai and former fiancée never waver. Both his love and his form are arrested through time. Though the feelings are dulled by magic, they never truly fade. All the while learning the trades and traditions of the Silent brothers, giving him abilities and an outlook that others can’t see or comprehend. The wise one in the room. As a former addict himself he can never give up that which brings him joy, whether it’s Tessa, Will, or his violin. In the picture you see him sitting with his fingers entwines together, the mortal sword leaning against him and a skull to his right side. The skull representing his long dead parabatai Will Herondale, and the sword that makes Shadowhunter’s Tell the truth and delivering justice. Yet it’s leaning.. not directly in his palms. While Brother Zachariah believes the truth is always better, that doesn’t exactly apply to himself.

Upright: Divine, mercy, conformity, Controlling spiritual needs

Reversed: Unorthodox, poor advice, Impotence

**The lovers **

Magnus & Alec /Jace & Clary (Love)

So many types of love between these four. A twisted web of love in its purest form. Two Parabati with their partners. While Alec isn’t Magnus’s first love, he is his first shadow hunter love. The first person where marriage was an option, the only one to convince him to have children and build a real life with an actual family. Alec like most shadow hunters found his love and is sticking to it. Head over heels for the bad boy his parents never wanted for him, yet he is absolutely perfect for him. Young and old fit together neatly in a relationship neither of them have ever experienced. Bring each others firsts in so many new and exciting ways. Angels and Demons coming together in a love deeper than the realms of hell themselves. Alec’s light and dark co-mingling with Magnus’s in a Yin and Yang that finds perfect balance. Clary and Jace were touched by angels, drawing them together regardless of circumstance. Their blood singing the siren song of forbidden love, even that couldn’t keep them apart. Obstacles at every step of the way, first the possible brother/sister issue, then the magical ensorcellment, then the heavenly fire roaring in Jace’s veins. No matter how large the problem, they get through it together. Always finding a way when no path is presented, they make their own. It wouldn’t be the first time a deep love mingled between a Herondale and a Fairchild. In the picture you see both of the couples embracing. Clary and Jace facing each other, holding the other up. While Magnus holds Alec from the back, having his back always, eyes closed in a comforting bliss.

Upright: Love, Passion, union, romance, harmony

Reversed: Conflict, separation, divided.

**The Chariot**

Mark Blackthorn (The Changeling )

Mark was never just one thing, he always had a foot in both worlds. One with the Shadowhunters, and one in Fairy. Longing for the stars and winds of the skies of fairy, homesick for the family that loved him all his life. A born protector to all he loves. Self discovery showed him how his love was not just a single trunk, but all the branches that came along with it, and with that the knowledge that he could have it all. Not wanting to choose, but to have everything he wanted was a struggle worth the burden. Allowing his differences be the reason that he shines. Eyes dual colored for both the worlds he belonged, two worlds, two loves, both within reach. Both worlds bringing him Bliss as well as torment. Shadowhunting meant he would never truly be excepted because of his fairy blood, his bisexuality also driving their acceptance further away. The runes call to his blood, the fight within him singing to rid the world of demons as his mandate. Marks family never wavering in their love for him no matter the circumstances. Fairy being equally as cruel for stealing his childhood, torturing him physically and mentally for his being a half blood. Finding love and wonder in his lover Kieran. The freedom of the hunt, the ability to feel what he wanted to feel without prejudice. Mark Blackthorn has the ability to change his direction to what suits him best, driving his life forward in the way of true happiness. In the picture you see him with two dogs of the hunt, by his side and fierce as he is with his bow and arrow. Fairy clothes and runes both adorning his body showing his dual life.

Upright: A Journey to new places, boldly venturing into the unknown

Reversed: Ruined plans, bad strategy

**Justice**

Jace Herondale (The Angel)

The golden Ichor that inflamed his veins as a child changed our hero. From his golden eyes to his unwavering abilities that go far beyond normal Shadowhunter standard. The law is hard, but it’s the law. While Jace finds loopholes and ways to have the law work in his favor, he never truly breaks it. A true believer in his mandate to rid the world of demons and their ilk. Even being disgusted by the very idea that he might have been tainted with demon blood was almost to much for him to bare. Wielding a blade to protect innocent and good, his wit and charm are the only equal to his deadly prowess. Jace knows their is more than one way to fight, more than one way to win a battle. The perfect soldier, born and bred to fight for the angel. Special talents only equal to his girlfriend, who also shares his angel blood. Pure love drives his motivations, for both Clary and his Parabatai Alec. Finding family in both of them, being a good brother and partner above all else. Even being raised in evil, his natural good nature shines through... even if it is tipped with sarcasm. In the picture you see him as an angel, as Clary drew him in her sketchbook. A lion to his side showing he is the king of the jungle, the alpha male with a golden mane to rule his pride and bring order around him.

Upright: Balance, Strong sense of self, Fairness

Reversed: Poor character, abuse, taking sides, biased.

**The Hermit**

Tiberius Blackthorn (The genius)

Even being born into the world with a twin, Ty has always had a sense of loneliness. Of feeling separate. Everything is to intense, too colorful, too loud, too much! Autism isn’t something known in the Shadow world, and because of that it’s looked at as set apart. Just because Ty is different, doesn’t mean he is condemned. Seeing the world through special eyes, seeing what others don’t. Drawn to routine, study, and Sherlock Holmes he finds a way to exist in this world of chaos with the help of his trusty headphones blaring Classical music. While he loves his twin more than the world itself, he still only found solace in Kit Rook. Someone who never saw him as anything but awe inspiring. An instant connection in a world of constant rejection. While Ty likes to be alone, he most wants to be alone with someone else in the room. No real interaction, just having them there so they can be alone together. In the picture you see the books stacked, the only one you can read is the codex, meaning the rules and tradition plays a large part in this reading. But it’s not the first book, while it’s in the mix many other tomes and knowledge comes before that. The moth in the corner shows transformation and signs of change. While not as exquisite as a butterfly, it has its own beauty that is unique all on its own.

Upright: Solitude, Exile, Out cast, seeming alone time, Secrecy, Hidden knowledge

Reverse: Social, At one with the community, seeking friends or love

**The Wheel Of Fortune**

Luke and Jocelyn (The Destined)

Lovers finally coming full circle. They have a tendency to get in their own way, assume things that are not true. Selflessness kept them apart for to long, finally coming full circle they find what’s always been there, love and eachother. Both seduced by the same man, both seeing him for what he was around the same time. Their minds were always on the same brain wave, and even long believed prejudice couldn’t keep them from the other. Luke would follow her anywhere, and Jocelyn could find him even if he didn’t want to be found. The circle brought them together, just for them to go full circle back to eachother. Forever destined, the angel and the wolf. In the picture you see Jocelyn above Luke, on the pedestal in which he placed her. The circle behind them both representing their start and end. The runes on their arms were the connection tunes between downworlder and shadowhunter. The runes on the circle are angelic power, strength, and voyance.

Upright: Fortune, chance, Fate, destiny

Reversed:Unfortunate events, unexpected results

**Strength**

Charlotte Branwell (The leader)

The first female consul, the pillar of strength in the London institute and enclave. Even being referred to as “the gray mare is the better horse in that race.” While her husband placed himself below her, he is not threatened by her. Henry loves that his wife is in charge and running everything around him, taking the pressure off of him so that he can follow his dreams. Charlotte would never cast out anyone who had no place to go, regardless of her opinion of them. While her build is small and birdlike, most people forget that about her because she demands the room. A personality and sense of authority that makes her appear six feet tall. In the picture she stand between two pillars. She is her own pillar of her community, standing between the other two that hold up her people. The law and protecting the world from evil. While she upholds both, she also stands between them understanding that there are gray areas in this world of black and white.

Upright: Strength, Endurance, power from within yourself.

Reverse: Weakness, defeat, surrender

**The hanged man**

Will Herondale (The cursed man)

Will thought himself to be cursed by the demon his father kept in his study. The demon killed his sister with a sting and then lied and tricked him, making him believe he couldn’t let anyone love him or they would die. This caused him to push everyone away, except Jem. Jem was the exception because he was already fated to die, so Will believed the curse wouldn’t touch him. This belief made him secretive, a liar, and secluded him from all around him. That was until Tessa came into his life and gave him purpose to try to rid himself of the curse that was never actually on him. Five years of self hatred did it’s damage, with Jem and Tessa being the only chance for redemption. Magnus, a Warlock, his only means to find out the truth, changing a young mind about the down world forever. In the picture you see Will upside down twisted in shadow, invisible bonds that keep him in place, but don’t actually exist or have actual power to keep him bound, only his own belief that they do is what keeps him trapped.

Upright: Opportunities missed, keeping ones self in indecision, letting time pass by

Reversed: Wasting time, lack of progress, feeling stalled

**Death**

Johnathan Morgenstern ( Death)

A boy who didn’t even have a chance before his own birth. Damned to be a soulless being before even feeling love and light. His own father created him this way, and he resented him from keeping any chance of redemption open for him. Evil was natural, and while Love was not lost on him it was tainted. An unnatural love for his own sister, a longing to keep what is his in his own mind. Feeling possession over people, forcing them to love and accept him. Deep down inside is the real boy, the good shadowhunter that never got to thrive. In a constant cycle of change and transformation. Conceived innocent, transformed with demon powders in gestation, shaped and molded in childhood, finally to die and see the spark of what could have been. Johnathan is all about changing one thing into another, moving forward, becoming better. In the picture you see him holding the infernal cup, the very thing that is change. The instrument that makes the endarkend. You see his sword on his hip with 4 stars lining the hilt, four being a magical number (example 4 seasons, four stages of life etc.) also he’s wearing his bracelet that reminds him of whom he is, keeps him grounded. Skeletal creatures surround him because eventual death surrounds him (or the death of plans). Red blood spatters the card, red being a scared color for supernatural, spiritual, or in shadowhunter culture to bring an enchantment down.

Upright: Change, metamorphosis, loss, end of ways.

Reversed: Bad situations, turbulent change.

**Temperance**

Jem Carstairs (The musician)

The addict, Wills own cracked mirror, Tessa’s second love. While Jem has his own problems, he tends to be the one people lean on. While he is this driving force in the back of his mind, he wants others to come first. Not really an optimist, but a realist. Instead of growing bitter over his parents deaths and his forced addiction, he chooses to see the bright side of it. Because of those things he found Will, he found Tessa. Two driving forces in his life that supersede the Yin Fen. Bringing balance to all their lives regardless of timeline. His love for Tessa and Will are equal in strength. Having the patience and dedication to love Will, even when Will pushes everyone away. Giving Tessa his energy and deep caring, his music and combining of both Bass and Treble as shown in the picture. Also in the picture is poppies, a death flower, which Jem is always on the brink of. While his violin is pictured close to his heart (Tessa) the bow that makes the sound ring out is by his side (Will). Neither of any real use without the other, and both useless without Jem.

Upright: Patience, Balance, Channeling ones energy, combining elements to make something new

Reversed: conflict, bad combinations, excess

**The Devil**

Valentine (The Zelot)

Valentine was not always the evil man he became, he was once the good son. Much like the devil he fell from grace after his father was killed by werewolves. Thus starting the natural obsession inside him to seek revenge for his father and beginning his hatred of Downworld. With the charisma of a cult leader he did just that by establishing “The circle” bringing the best and brightest by his side to get his obsessions fed. Get in his way, and he will make sure you fall with him. He is not without love or even loyalty, but like his son he sees those he created as possessions. Things that belonged to him. Jace was his perfect soldier, even mourning him after he knew he couldn’t keep him around and stabbed him. Clary, his daughter who can create runes because of his experimentation. Valentine did everything he could think of to bring her closer to him, even fooling her and Jace into thinking they were brother and sister. Jocelyn was his wife in his mind regardless of where she was or how long they had been apart, her hatred for him was temporary in his mind, she would come around eventually or so he thought. In the picture you see him holding the mortal cup, his key to his obsession. The chains surround him, even one choking him. One gold, one black, one silver. Mortals, Downworld, and shadowhunters. The Downworld being the one choking him, for Magnus stated that he and other warlocks were chained to this life by a chain of gold. His hatred for them was his downfall.

Upright: Oppression, material bondage, obsessive desires, evil fantasies.

Reversed: Unwavering pursuit, greed, mind control

**The Tower**

Isabelle & Alec Lightwood (The soldiers)

Here we have the two eldest of the lightwoods, strong as they face danger, both extremely and deeply damaged as siblings. Alec, afraid of his own sexual identity. Always feeling like the one left behind, never destined to shine. His father making his home life a cage, suffocating him with the mold of what a true nephilim should be. Izzy, a born warrior that’s terrified of commitment. Love is to make yourself weak in her eyes. Men are below her and would only step on her toes. Her mother damaged her by sharing adult problems with a child. Telling her of her fathers infidelity, making her lose faith in love and commitment. Both born into greatness only to fall because of personal issues. Yet if hey fall, they fall together. Always having the others back. In the picture you see Alec behind his sister, where every man in her life is placed. Alec sees it as having her back Incase of danger. Alec at the ready with a crossbow, Izzy while having her whip I hand does not have it out to strike as Alec does. Izzy is winking at the viewer, letting us know her place. The church in the background is being struck by lightning right at the cross, showing how both their faith was shaken.

Upright: Abrupt change, Accident or Loss, Ruin, traumatic event, upheaval.

Reverse: redundancy in life, unable to break patterns in life, sad events.

**The Star**

Tessa Gray (The masked)

Tessa was not aware of the circumstances of her birth, believing she was a mundane for the beginning of her life. Only to find out that she was the daughter of a Prince of Hell, a greater Eidolon Demon, and an unmarked shadow hunter. With the help of a spirit of an angel locked in her mothers necklace she was able to be born into this world as a new race entirely, not quite warlock, not quite shadowhunter. Her ability to shapeshift unlike any seen before her, the ability to connect with the persons soul through objects. All the while being able to flip through their memories unknowing to them. Always trying to break from control. Mortmain, her brother, the dark sisters, the clave, all trying to control her in some way. Escaping into novels to keep her inner demons at bay. Doing everything she can to seize control of her own life, even if it meant giving it up. She would be no ones puppet, she is her own and belongs to herself. Taking her new found gifts and trying her best to turn the darkness inside her around and use it for good. In the picture you see Tessa I’m a veil, masking her true face to navigate the world while still holding onto it and herself. Black and white stars around her, good and evil, truth and lies, and she remains in the middle with the veil staying gray. The clockwork angel the only thing unmasked about her.

Upright: Hope, a sign of good things, fulfillment in life’s pleasures.

Reversed: Doubting ones ability, stale creativity.

**The moon**

Maia Roberts & Jordan Kyle ( The lycanthropes)

A tempestuous relationship, not born to last. As the moon sets every night these two had their time only for it to be cut short. While death intimately took Kyle, Maia was close to ending things before that even happened except death beat her to it. While she loved Kyle, she knew like the phases of the moon they are ruled under that things had to change. Maia needed her own space to become a pack leader, and Jordan would have kept her as a Beta when she was a born Alpha. Jordan didn’t want to see it, all he could see was a wrong he did and the need to fix it. Him being the reason she was changed in the first place. Joining the Prater Lupus to become worthy of her love and regiment himself into someone better. Jordan wanted to help, wanted to mend, not seeing that you shouldn’t try to fix what’s not broken in the first place. Trying to convince himself that his relationship was working, that all his atonement was worth the struggle. You see them in the picture facing eachother on a bed. Maia looking at the viewer, while Jordan is fixed on Maia herself. The wolves above them showing their changing shapes, yet Maia’s is higher than Jordan’s and has the look of a leader. Jordan’s is panting and below her awaiting to follow.

Upright: brainwashing, dark influences, trickery, illusion, subconscious control

Reverse: avoiding reality, lies and despair, strange forces, delusional

**The sun**

Simon Lewis (The daylighter)

Simon, being the only person alive knowing what it’s like to live in the three different societies. First a mundane, then a daylighting vampire, then a shadowhunter. Simon has this way of fitting into each as if he were born to it, not without hard work. Clary’s best friend and Parabatai, Simon always finds a way to save the day. Whether it’s coffee and comics, or giving up your immortality in a demon realm to save everyone you love, Simon always makes things better. The only man to tame the reckless heart of Izzy Lightwood. The one who brought the Dregs and Elites at the academy together. The one to win Clary’s eternal love (platonically). Wherever Simon is, he belongs. The only one who doesn’t know that... is him. In the picture he is where he was always meant to be even though he was a vampire once, the sunlight.

Upright: successful social relationships, friendship, engagement, happy times and pure joy.

Reversed: separation, loneliness, unstable relationship

**Judgement**

Livia Blackthorn (The protector)

The other more femme half of the Blackthorn twins. Everything her twin lacks she’s has in spades, as is the reverse. Growing up knowing her brother was a slightly different kind of shadowhunter, Livvy always stood by his side and acted as his personal bodyguard. Willing to even slay her eldest brother to protect him. Livvy wants the best for everyone, she wants everyone to be happy. From wanting to set her brother Julian up, to giving up a possible romance due to her brother having more of a bond to said possible romance partner. She just wants everyone to get what they deserve, even if it’s death. Even her death. She didn’t want to be brought back, but she saw how much her brother needed her. So instead of punishing him away she stayed. She would make sure his dreams were fulfilled so that he could possibly live without her one day, something she should have done in life. In truth she knows that may never happen, while it’s a win for Ty... it’s a punishment for her. In the picture you see Livia in the dress she was buried in. Her trusty saber behind her back just Incase justice is to be served once more, or ty needs back up. Three blades are in the picture for what I interpret as past, present, and future.

Upright: accountability for ones actions, new beginnings, awakening

Reversed: guilty feelings, fearful of death, worry, delay, fear.

**The World**

Clary Fray (the creator)

Growing up thinking she was mundane, clary has grown and fought her way to shadow hunter hero. Clary went from drawing pictures, to creating runes not of the gray book to make her race stronger. Stubborn and small, strong and reckless. She wants to prove that she is more than she seems and always seems to find her way coming full circle. The center of the mortal instruments saga and of the world of her boyfriend Jace. Both with extra angel blood singing in their veins, drawn together by heaven itself. This pocket sized vixen is going to make her mark, or rune on the world. In the picture you see her with a falcon on one side and a lioness on the other. The falcon representing Jace, always by her side and equally as deadly. Sitting on the lioness as it represents herself. The woman in the pack that is more vicious than the man, the one who brings home the prey and takes it down.

Upright: completion of a cycle or journey, triumph, good outcome over adversity, hard fought victory.

Reverse: frustration, incomplete endeavors, failed projects.

[hillbillyhippiemusicreview]

Post #63, MarDe Brooks--Running Out of Time

Reviewed by Lyssa Culbertson

“Way back on the radio dial The fire got lit inside a bright-eyed child Every note just wrapped around his soul From steel guitars, to Memphis, all the way to rock and roll” -Eli Young Band

Every time I hear “Even If It Breaks Your Heart” by the Eli Young Band pass through my playlist, my mind cannot help but wander to the trajectory HHMR alum MarDe Brooks has had over the past couple of years. It is impressive what an ample amount of hard work, determination, faith, and if we are honest, an iota of craziness will manifest when it comes to chasing dreams. If you are unfamiliar with MarDe’s story, let me fill you in:

The Alabama born and bred singer-songwriter recently released his debut album, Running Out of Time, after a lifetime of desire to share his musical gifts with the world. Perhaps the album title is a nod to the notion of growing older and time slipping away, leaving you with no choice but to shelve your dreams or take a chance and live them with all you’ve got—but MarDe need not worry. With the impeccable artistry he possesses and a knack for heartfelt, honest songwriting, we’ll be hearing more out of him for years to come. With an practically permanent smile as wide as the Rio Grande and an electric energy radiating from him every time he steps on stage, he possesses an often unmatched zeal for his work that will surely keep him on everyone’s radar. His sound is as eclectic as he is, and that is the utmost compliment in my book. As I said in the review of his first single, “Memories,” MarDe cannot be caged by a genre, for this powerhouse of a songbird sings to the tune of whatever is in his heart—whether that’s a slow sentimental ballad about life on the road, or a rockin’ up-tempo song about love gone wrong. Running Out of Time has something to love for everyone, but odds are you’ll love it from the beginning of the “Memories” you’ll make whilst listening, to the last “Curtain Call.” Answering the desires of his soul to create his own original music, the collection of ten songs were written and composed in just under a year, and within the next year the record was recorded and MarDe hit the highway sharing his stories with anyone who would listen. On September 11, 2020, he added fuel to the fire that got lit inside the bright-eyed child of his youth when he debuted his first album to the world.

When listening to this record both as a whole and dissecting each individual song, it’s quite easy to hear the various musical influences that have helped shape MarDe into the artist he is. However, he infuses those notes of blues, old time rock-and-roll, country, southern rock, folk, and more into sound all his own. The first track on the record, “Memories,” incorporates all of these styles in a up-beat tune set against a bit of a dark subject matter. A failed relationship takes its toll and leads to self-destruction, but if you only listen to the melody, you wouldn’t have a clue. I love how MarDe plays a lyrical and musical trick on the listener’s ear on this one, and it was a solid first choice for a single release, as it showcases both his songwriting ability and musicality. Heading to the opposite end of the romantic spectrum, the next track, “Slow Time,” is a beautiful ballad that will transport you back to a time to when life ran at a slower pace, perhaps on the riverbank next to a loved one watching the summer clouds roll in, where nothing but the love you were in mattered. Speaking of rolling in, “I’ve Got Memphis” is one of the standouts on the record, as it details the feelings of a traveling musician counting the miles wearing on both the road and his soul. As a music lover with a heavy dose of Gypsy in my soul, when MarDe sings “Oklahoma calls out to me, and I miss that Kentucky high, I’d love to stay in Alabama, but I’ve got Memphis tomorrow night,” it resonates with me on a spiritual level. I love the sound of four wheels spinning down an open highway, but occasionally every mile marker makes me weary and I just want to be home, though there’s always another show down the road and work to be done. It’s a sentimental tune about the highs and lows of this life and is just so powerful. Track number four, “Down the Road,” happens to be one of my favorites off the record—it’s a total jam with an infectious groove that just won’t let go, much like how he bemuses the difficulty of letting go of his beloved and moving on in the tune. The way he once again juxtaposes an upbeat melody with a somewhat somber subject matter intrigued me from the first verse of the song, and I was hooked. We’ve all been there—in love with someone that it kills us to let go of, though we know we’re better off leaving them in our rearview. I admire how MarDe can write about real life situations with such clarity and cleverness.

As evidenced by the previous tracks mentioned, MarDe has such a versatile voice where one moment he can have you high on life singing along and the next morose and feeling every bit of heartache his vocals are seeped with on a song like “Home,” one of the most compelling works on the album. The imagery is quite vivid, as you can easily picture the man in the song with his “hands on the sink, face down to the floor” ruminating over his life. As I’ve listened to this song, it dawned on me that the character in the song was not simply speaking to a lost lover, but to the man in the mirror as well, because all too often we can break our own hearts by our choices with the aid of the demons we face. For many, alcohol can be one of those demons; however, as shown by MarDe’s joyful vibes in “Fifth by Noon,” sometimes it can be just the cure a man needs to patch up a broken heart. This tune is my favorite to see performed live because of the energy MarDe harnesses as he brings the song to life. A little ditty about the healing powers found in a fifth of your favorite whisky and good friends, the line “everything will be alright if I down a fifth by noon” has the possibility to become an adage for centuries to come. Likely not the wisest piece of advice, but one most can certainly empathize with if we’re honest. When he sings “I used to lay you down like Conway at night, but now you’re out there girl and you’re making different music tonight, so here’s an idea, why don’t you stay, yeah that’s where you made you made your bed and that’s where you can lay” it’s loud and clear how he feels about the woman in question—and I’m absolutely here for it. Such a killer, feisty verse that makes me cackle as I belt it out every time! The guitar solo prefacing the semi-acapella portion of the song backed by a chorus of voices and a drumline are my favorite parts of the song because it drives the point home and is so fun to jam out to.

Reflecting back on the record to this point, it’s easy to see the thematic presence of sorrow woven throughout the lyrics. Despite the best efforts we tend to put into anything in life, what we deserve is not always what the universe sends our way. Track number seven, “Earned,” is a prime lyrical example of that fact, especially in relation to futile relationships we may feel that we got the short end of the stick in, so to speak, because “even if you do things the right way, you don’t always get what is earned.” A heart is a fragile thing, and love is even more delicate, as heard in “On My Way.” MarDe croons “rules are made to be broken, but hearts aren’t the same, so many words left unspoken, could have silenced the pain” to a lover he’s leaving behind—and that is such a poignant line about the importance of communication. Quite frequently, it’s the words we do not say that could salvage important connections or bring closure to difficult goodbyes. His voice is soft and melodic on this tune, highlighting every bit of emotion involved, notably when he sings in the bridge “I couldn’t see through the flames when I promised my life, but all that smoke cleared just in time.” Every time I hear that particular lyric a single tear escapes my eye because I’ve lived that line and the emotions connected are just so painful—It hurts so good.

Although words sometimes possess the power to save relationships, they also have the power to destroy them. In the case of “Liar,” MarDe appears to be addressing a friend or mentor, rather than a past lover. “Your lies won’t let you tell the truth, you looked down on me, I looked up to you, you dig your hole try to pull me in the ground, you had your chance but it’s all over now”—WOW. In spite of the rather calm melody, the anger and disappointment boils over in every verse of this good riddance themed song, as he’s “on [his] way to the top now, and you can’t slow [him] down.” I often lightheartedly—but seriously—joke that people should not do wrong by a songwriter, because a song will inevitably be written about the offense, and “Liar” is a prime example of that, tying into the seemingly autobiographical journey MarDe details in the final song on the record, aptly titled “Curtain Call.” It’s a beautiful summation of his ride from the aforementioned bright-eyed dreamer of his youth to the man he is now, steadily achieving lifelong goals—while the highs and lows ebbed and flowed and it wasn’t always easy, the journey was without a doubt worth it, as evidenced by the quality and ultimate success of his first release.

MarDe either wrote or co-wrote every song on Running Out of Time and rounded up a group of gifted musicians to record the album at Rose City Recording in Charleston, WV with producer Greg McGowan. With a heavy dose of the keys, the lead/rhythm guitar, mandolin, violin, bass, drums, and pedal steel played by (in no particular order) musicians Jerimiah Hatfield, Joey Lafferty, Mark Cline Bates, Jeremy “Wood” Roberts, Eric Robbins, David McGuire, Molly Lynn Page, Travis Egnor, and MarDe himself, this record is a unique work of art, reflective of the array of musical styles that encompass the artist MarDe Brooks is. The support from background vocalists Ritch Henderson, Eric Robbins, Jerimiah Hatfield, and Mark Cline Bates adds a spark to each track they are featured on. My only critique of the record is that you cannot truly hear the extent of the passion and range MarDe possesses behind his vocals, as that essence can only be captured live—which is why you must catch him a live show, soon! You can find tour dates, merch, and other important info at www.mardebrooks.com, or you can follow him on Facebook at MarDe Brooks and on Instagram at @mardebrooksmusic.

Peace, love, & music,

Lyssa

————————

*This is an independent review. The Hillbilly Hippie Music Review was not compensated for this review.

*The opinions expressed are solely that of the author(s).

*These images are not ours, nor do we claim them in any way. They are copyrighted by MarDe Brooks & Jimbo Valentine of Amalgam United.

[citylightsbooks]

5 Questions with Megan Fernandes, Author of Good Boys

Megan Fernandes is a writer and academic living in New York City. She is the author of The Kingdom and After (Tightrope Books 2015) and the new book of poems, Good Boys (published by Tin House). Her work has been published or is forthcoming in the New Yorker, Tin House, Ploughshares, Denver Quarterly, Chicago Review, Boston Review, Rattle, Pank, the Common, Guernica, the Academy of American Poets, and McSweeney's Internet Tendency, among others. She is a poetry reader for The Rumpus and an Assistant Professor of English at Lafayette College. She holds a PhD in English from the University of California, Santa Barbara and an MFA in poetry from Boston University. She reads from her new book Good Boys with special guests at City Lights Bookstore on Tuesday, February 25th.

***

City Lights: If you’ve been to City Lights before, what’s your memory of the visit? If you haven’t been here before, what are you expecting?

Megan Fernandes: Of all the places I’m reading this Spring (and it’s probably not politic to say this), I am most excited to read at City Lights. I’ve never been, but I understood at a very young age that the bookstore symbolized possibility, spontaneity, digression, lostness, community, etc. As a teenager, I read a lot of Beat literature, my favorites being Dharma Bums, In the Night Café, and everything Ginsberg. I was compelled by their portraits of America’s expansiveness. And I also just think as an immigrant kid not born in the USA, the Beats gave me some sense of American geography. I went to Colorado for the first time last year and I had this memory of my first impression of Colorado as a place described in On the Road. When traveling across the country, I often have Ferlinghetti’s feverish, twitchy, carnivalesque poetics in my head. I also think in this indirect way, Beat literature shaped some of my thoughts around feminist thinking as I was conscious of my orientation as outside certain privileges of the “male, womanizing adventurer” often romanticized in Beat lit. I had to interrogate what it meant to feel intimacies with Ginsberg and Duncan who were destabilizing masculinities and cultural logics of hate. 

And so what I learned from City Lights and Beat lit is really something about the relationship between myth-making and counter-culture communities. I’m understanding the truly expansive network of the movement in so much more detail right now while reading an advanced copy of a fabulous new book called The Beats: A Literary History by Steven Belletto. 

What are you reading right now?

I’m reading a book called Dapper Dan: Made in Harlem, co-written by Dapper Dan himself and my good friend, Mikael Awake. It’s a history of Dapper Dan’s iconic work in fashion, of course, while being really intimate. And it’s just as much a history of his family’s internal dynamics and, through his family, New York City at large. In particular, 1970’s NYC is so vividly, brilliantly wrought in this book.

There’s this one section where Dap is at Iona College at a lecture on protohistory and the professor, a Czech immigrant, tells the class that “In order for man to have survived during those ancient times… he must have had powers that he doesn’t have now. The only people that could possibly still have these powers today are the black and brown people on the planet” and when Dap hears this, he is transfixed. He says: “This is one of the most esteemed scholars at Iona College telling a packed lecture hall that black and brown people were the only ones on the planet who still had spiritual powers. How come this was my first time hearing about that? I looked around. I was the only black student in the class. I wasn’t tired anymore. He had my full attention… I said to myself, This is what I need to know. This is how I need to formulate myself.” I’m loving how the book captures these intense moments of transformation. I love that word choice: formulate. What poetic agency is modeled in that word? I needed that word the moment I read it. 

Recently, I’ve also read Samiya Bashir’s Field Theories and Edgar Kunz’s Tap Out. Samiya wrote this legitimately weird and imaginative book that feels like it’s made out of the time-space continuum. Some cosmic materiality is really showing up in that book. I remember this line: “A body. A zoo. A lovely savannah. Walls of clear, clean glass” and I’m just on a ride with the musicality of her shifting assonance. Plus, I know that writers like June Jordan and Toni Cade Bambara are operating influences/specters of the book and you can feel that energy. Edgar’s book is more narrative and quieter, but so devastating. I sort of get what makes his speakers tenderize if that makes sense. I think it’s the same phenomena that tenderizes me, too.

Some of my favorite novels of recent years includes A Questionable Shape by Bennett Sims, The Small Backs of Children by Lidia Yuknavitch, Sonora by Hannah Lillith Assadi, and very recently, The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead.

What book or writer do you always find yourself recommending?

I think Jean Toomer’s Cane is the most beautiful book of the 20th century. I remember just being blown away by its call and response, the repeating imagery of sun and smoke and pines. That book is so stunning. Other astounding work that I always recommend includes Mebvh McGuckian’s Captain Lavender, Anne Carson’s The Autobiography of Red, Evie Shockley’s The New Black, Franz Wright’s Walking to Martha’s Vineyard, Eleni Sikelianos’ Body Clock, Jorie Graham’s The Errancy, Bhanu Kapil’s The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers, The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats, and Galway Kinnell and Hannah Liebmann’s translations of Rilke. Those are my hard-hitters. Those books are why I became a poet. 

What writers/artists/people do you find the most influential to the writing of this book and/or your writing in general?

You know, I collected poems while I was writing and editing this book. And I think those specific poems created a kind of constellation around me, almost protective, that kept me writing. Some of those poems include “The Long Recovery” by Ellen Bass, “A Matter of Balance,” by Evie Shockley, “What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why” by Edna St. Vincent Millay, “I am Not Seaworthy” by Toni Morrison, “Becoming Regardless” by Jack Spicer, “A New Bride Almost Visible in Latin” by Jack Gilbert, “To the Young Who Want to Die” by Gwendolyn Brooks and many, many others. Definitely O’Hara as well. He never leaves me. The most important poem of that little self-curated archive is Frank Bidart’s “Visions at 74” where he writes: “To love existence / is to love what is indifferent to you.” I remember reading that line and just losing it. I have been guided by so much of Bidart. And maybe my book is a little bit about how to sustain rage in the face of that which is indifferent to you, what cannot love you (both personally and abstractly). How do you sustain rage so as to not fall into despair?

I also listened to a variety of music while writing and editing. A mix between contemporary sad kid hip-hop, old school jazz and blues, gospel, 80’s bands, pop culture queens, 1970’s hypnotic modal vamp, classical Spanish guitar, electronic pop, really pretty varied. A few names that come to mind: KOTA the Friend, NoName, Vince Staples, Travis Scott, Miles Davis Quintet, Bessie Smith, Sam Cooke, The Knocks, Solange, Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders, Alice Coltrane, Big Mama Thornton, Miriam Makeba, Kamasi Washington, Thompson Twins, Misfits, Bowie, Talking Heads, Tears for Fears, Cher, Whitney Houston, Portishead, Goldfrapp, Memphis Slim, Dinah Washington, Alberto Iglesias, Gustavo Santaolalla, Holychild, Blood Orange, etc.

If you opened a bookstore, where would it be located, what would it be called, and what would your bestseller be?

My grandpa played violin on a ship that sailed between Tanga, Tanzania and Goa, India. I never had the chance to meet him. He died when my dad was sixteen, but I always thought about what that journey might have looked and felt like, its many hardships, but also the wonder of gazing out at the sea playing strings. For that reason, I’d love to open a bookstore that focused specifically on Indian Ocean diaspora and sold books exclusively by authors working, uncovering, or investigating the literature of that oceanic rim. I think there is something rich in thinking about books not necessarily focused on nation-statehood but thinking more about a kind of social-imaginary with a literature that is messy in its conceptualization and crosses, migrates, misses, and mythologizes across many cultures over generations. You could have sections on food, underwater exploration, piracy, long-distance intimacy, trade routes, empire, transnational feminism. I like the idea of a bookstore that is anti-genre and instead, organized by associative thinking and imagination. It would be a logistical nightmare. You would never find what you were looking for, but you might find something you didn’t know existed.

So yes, I’d vote for a little homegrown network of bookstores in India, East Africa, and actually, maybe one of them in Lisbon which is a city that has a long (and problematic) history with the Indian Ocean. I’ve spent a lot of time in Lisbon the past eight years of my life, spending time visiting family and researching the history of the Portuguese empire especially as it relates to my family history (my folks are third generation East African Portuguese colonized Indians). I have a lot of conflicting homelands which is a way of saying that there are times when I feel like I have nothing but a rootless present. That’s something I investigate in my work, that weird (a)temporality. And I’m drawn to the particular light of Lisbon which is quite unusual. I’d call the bookstore “Malaika” which means “Angel” in Swahili and is the favorite folk song of my parents who grew up in Tanzania. I like the idea of a bookstore in Lisbon with the name in Swahili run by a Goan-Canadian-American woman. That’s the world I grew up in… one of multiplicities. 

[citizenaycock]

Cold War (2018) | Directed and Written by Pawel Pawlikowski

Before getting into Cold War, as a prelude, I’d like to mention a funny documentary the filmmaker Pawel Pawlikowski released back in 1991 called Dostoevsky’s Travels. It follows the great-grandson of the famous Russian writer Fyodor Dostoevsky who died in 1881.  Fyodor is generally known as one of the greatest writers of all-time and possibly one of the first modern psychologists, deeply probing the human soul in his work.  Great-grandson Dmitri drives a tram in Leningrad, Russia and agrees to go on a speaking tour about his “prophet” Grandfather.  He doesn’t do this to pay his respects, but only because he dreams of scraping together enough money to buy a used Mercedes to impress his friends.  And he is OBSESSED with buying a Mercedes and knows nothing about his Great-Grandfather. He talks to crowds of intellectuals and hardly has anything to say about his kin Fyodor and just wants to get paid. He buys one Mercedes and it breaks down immediately. He then buys another at the end of the documentary and it gets stolen by bandits. As the doc progresses you see Dmitri is a bit of a numb-skull and a scoundrel. I liked it due to the irony of Dmitiri’s complete uncaring attitude towards Fyodor’s highly regarded esteem, and obviously this absurd infatuation with acquiring a used car as a status symbol compared to his novelist grandfather, who is held up so highly for his spiritual profundity and depth.     It’s a great piece of work no one has heard of...part-cautionary Capitalist tale at the end of the Soviet Union, while Cold War is part-cautionary Communist tale post World War II.  

Official Trailer for Cold War

Intro and Technical Specs

To start, my main fear of writing about films I love is that it will suck the joy out of the film itself by looking at it so closely.  I have only written in depth about two films, and thus far, am finding it to be the opposite.  When going under the microscope, I am just becoming more aware how great a truly well-made film is when breaking it down.  

Cold War may be the most beautiful black-and-white film I’ve seen.  The category Amazon has placed it in is “Arthouse Drama”.  Amazon Studios also is the distributor of the film.  My guess is because it did very well at the Cannes Film Festival and Pawlikowski won the Oscar for his previous film Ida in 2013. Sometimes they get it right.   To give some more context, I am very familiar with Ida and studied it for research for making my latest short film.  I found it interesting Pawlikowski implemented a particular style similar to filmmaker Paul Schraeder’s book, “Transcendental Style in Film”.  One aspect of this style pertaining to Ida is the cinematic framing for the action and not moving the camera until the end.  He framed his subjects in a squared 4:3 aspect ratio while leaving lots of headroom, sometimes leaving them in the bottom corner of the frame, which carried over to Cold War.  I don’t exactly know why he does this, but I have some theories that I will flesh out within the post in depth.  While watching, I immediately noticed the grain in the 4K version.  I looked it up and the film was shot with an Alexa digital camera and also a 35mm film camera, so apparently they were able to mimic film grain with the Alexa in post to match.  A 32mm lenses was used for almost all the shots. According to Pawlikowski it was because this focal length closely mimics the viewing width of the human eye and allows a wide space of action that can fit around the subject(s) in the frame. Similar to Ida, there is no non-diegetic music in the film (music added outside of the film’s music itself) until the closing credits, reminiscent of the French director Bresson.  

Opening in Rural Poland

The film opens on the hands of a man playing an instrument that resembles bagpipes, looks handmade and I assume is indigenous to Poland. The camera tilts up to reveal a bright-eyed rural man, and eventually pans over to another interesting looking character playing a violin as they sing together.  We soon learn that Wiktor (one of the protagonists) is traveling with two others (Irena and Kaczmarek) and they are recording various forms of folk music unique to the Polish people.  Kaczmarek immediately degrades this type of music as “possibly crude” or “too primitive” immediately marking a divide in perspective compared to Irena and Wiktor, who visibly enjoy interacting and recording the villagers’ authentic music.  

They soon come to a house where a unique-looking dirty village girl sings a song not accompanied by any instruments.  She has deep-set eyes and looks slightly haunted, and the lyrics of the song are about unrequited love. Not a happy song. Wiktor and Irena are enraptured by the raw singing and are recording this. In contrast, Kaczmarek disinterestedly eats soup in the next room, spoon klanking against the bowl, probably interfering with the recording.  Kaczmarek is representative of the Communist State for this film, high on bureaucracy and lacking in soul. The song being sung by the little girl is a huge part of the film as a whole.  Little do we know (and probably not evident to most who have seen the film) the lyrics tell the story of what happens between the protagonists we are about to follow in the film. The song is called Dwa Serduszka (Two Hearts) and is an authentic Polish folk song like much of the music in the movie.  After watching for the first time (I commonly do this) I went online to look up background information and found a very well-made youtube video essay describing the song as being the “Leitmotif” for the film. Leitmotif is a term defined as “a recurrent theme throughout a musical or literary composition, associated with a particular person, idea, or situation”.  In this case, the song operates as a direct pointing of what is to happen.  The song pops up several times throughout the course of the film, forecasting the fates of the two protagonist lovers, Wiktor and Zula, who are brought together by music.

This “forecasting” I believe goes deeper.  It’s as if it is pre-determined. Pre-determined due to the current political environment in Poland and the two characters’ difference in personality and upbringing.  Also, most importantly, is because they love each other in a way that seems beyond their control and not a choice, eventually becoming impossible for them to live life without one another. The leitmotif reminds us throughout the film of Wiktor and Zula’s inability to escape their fate, which is already etched in stone by powers beyond their will:    Two hearts four eyes Crying all day and night long Dark eyes, you cry because you can't be together You can't be together My mother told me You mustn't fall in love with this boy    But I went for him anyway and love him until the end I will love him until the end  

Folk Ensemble

Now we are at a large building which looks to still be in the rural area.  Auditions are going to be held here for singers and dancers for a folk ensemble performance.  A couple of trucks haul the commoners in and Kaczmarek gives a stately speech to the bunch before cutting inside to everyone waiting to audition for Wiktor and Irena.

We then meet Zula waiting.  She elects to audition with another girl, naively, rather than shine in the audition solo. They enter the room to sing for Wiktor and Irena.  Wiktor is immediately transfixed and asks Zula to hold on and asks her to sing another song alone.  She sings with an authentic, untrained beauty.  We also see her feistiness here.  It’s obvious Wiktor is smitten and she is marked down to be selected as one of the singers after they exchange a parting look.  By now, the framing style of the cinematography is noticeably unique compared to other films.  As mentioned in the intro, characters are often framed with lots of headroom and sometimes placed in the bottom of the frame, leaving it mostly open space.  My theory on this is that the environment the characters inhabit are shaping their destiny more than the characters’ own free will, therefore their heads are often seen at the bottom with action on top and around them. For example, Communism looms larger than the individual, tamping he or she down (literally) to the bottom of the frame.  Not only Communism, but their uncontrollable love for one another, the characters’ upbringing and the people around them with their general wants and needs. These factors shape their present and future more than their own willful, self-determination and I think the filmmaker is aware of this fatalism, yet doesn’t just come and say it because that wouldn’t be interesting.  We just see that Wiktor and Zula are never able to comfortably settle anywhere with their love nor escape the love they feel for one another, making their situation impossible due to the circumstances.        In Ida, duty to God looms large and so does the characters’ Jewish unknown family past (to only name two) and the shots are framed accordingly as well.   On a broad level stepping outside of the film, what’s interesting to me is how much free will do humans actually have and how much is self-determinant?  After studying the film closely, this is the deep question (not answer) that I came to that transcends the surface story.  

Wiktor watches Zula from a distance outside that evening.  Irena then tells him Zula killed her father and did some prison time for it.  After rewatching, I suspect that Irena loves Wiktor, and there are a few subtle cues later on that I noticed as well.  During private lessons, Wiktor curiously asks Zula what happened between her and her father while Wiktor plays scales on the piano and she matches the notes with her voice.  Zula says her father tried to be sexual with her so she stabbed him.  It is a very matter-of-fact and short answer.  Wiktor doesn’t say anything and continues playing the piano.   I’ve thought about this scene more so than any other scene after rewatching.  I think it is because of the dialectical nature of Zula saying she stabbed here Dad because he tried to have sex with her, one of the darkest things you could imagine, then the slight humor of Wiktor’s reaction while seamlessly transitioning back to the softness of the piano and her soft voice syncing.   Wiktor is very watchful, internal, reserved, most likely from a more refined family and musical background.  Zula is tough, spirited, tenacious and has lit a fire in Wiktor.  Wiktor is tall and dark-haired.  Zula is short and blonde. Opposites!

It is now time to perform for a large audience in a theatre.  Wiktor conducts. Zula and about 20 other girls in Polish folk attire sing the leitmotif song that was sung by the young girl earlier.  The group sings beautifully.  Zula shines in front.  Even Kaczmarek on the side of the stage behind the curtain seems to be in awe and carefully walks about as if not to disturb the magic.

Afterwards there is a reception.  Wiktor and Irena lean against a large mirrored wall and everyone else in the room is seen in the reflection. When you first watch it, it takes awhile to figure out the orientation of the room due to the mirrored wall.  I think this is the most interesting shot of the film.  Kaczmarek then gleefully enters frame and says that the performance was so beautiful, calls Wiktor a genius and says it’s the most beautiful day of his life.  He really means it and is the most authentic emotion we see from him in the whole film.  Previously, Kaczmarek thought all this “folksy stuff” was foolish.  There is a funny moment between the three.  Wiktor and Irena are obviously moved by this but not sure how to express it as the stately Kaczmarek leans against the mirror with the two.   On a second viewing, one sees Zula in the reflection staring at Wiktor the entire time.  The two make love soon after in a bathroom at the party.

The Ensemble + The State

The performance is so good, now the State wants to get involved and meets with Wiktor, Irena and Kaczmarek.  The government wants to turn the repertoire into a “calling card for our Fatherland” and incorporate “Land Reform”, “World Peace” and a strong number about the “Leader of the World Proletariat”.  In return the group will be held in high favor, able to travel to other countries to perform, etc.  Irena and Wiktor are visibly uncomfortable with this.  Irena speaks first and says thank you but the ensemble is about authentic folk art and the rural population doesn’t sing nor understand these difficult issues.  Kaczmarek quickly intervenes and calls the man from the state “comrade” and says the ensemble, on the contrary, will do this after given proper direction. Irena stares him down.  Wiktor says nothing.  The next performance is stained by a huge tapestry of Stalin behind the singing ensemble.  The tone now is more dutiful rather than soulful, as if singing a church hymn they are forced to sing.  Zula’s face while singing now lacks the life it possessed in the performance before.  The State must extinguish all individuality and uniqueness with the goal to homogenize.  Irena’s heart looks broken in the audience.  Everyone dutifully rises for applause afterwards and Irena walks out.  We do not see her again in the film.  Everything has changed.

The stuffiness of the singing troops is saved afterwards by a beautiful shot of Wiktor and Zula laying in a golden wheat field together at dusk. Golden?? The film is in black and white but my mind says “golden”.  Birds and crickets sing. Tranquility away from the group.

But it doesn’t last long, as they are unable to run from the larger outside factors.  Zula soon confesses that she reports on Wiktor to Kaczmarek about their relationship and the things he tells her. She says it’s because she’s on probation for something and assures Wiktor that it’s nothing that will hurt him, but Wiktor gets up and walks off angrily at a loss for words.      As mentioned, the scene starts with their eyes closed as if in a dream, beyond the State, but it's inevitable that the state has to enter their relationship at some point, infecting the dream, and will remain a problem for the rest of their lives.   Zula calls him a “bourgeois wanker” as he walks away and she reacts oddly by jumping in a nearby river.  As soon as she hits the water, Wiktor stops and turns around.  She floats in the river and begins singing the leitmotif song.  

The next shot is of the two silently sitting together again in the wheat field at nightfall with a campfire going.  Zula’s hair is wet. The two just stare at each other and never say a word. What are they thinking?   I think Wiktor is thinking that he can not escape her because of his love and that they are stuck!  Zula knows this too.  This is a type of love that transcends choice.  Just like the State, their love controls them. The silent shot in nature cuts to black, then diverges to a busy train station with a brass band as the ensemble leaves to go to Berlin for a show.  Kaczmarek gives a stately speech to the group about their trip.  Wiktor meets Zula privately in a train car and lays out a plan for their escape once in Germany to go to France.  Zula is nervous she will not be able to make it somewhere other than her homeland Poland due to her inability to speak French and lack of experience.  I doubt she has any family to rely on, and at the moment has the ensemble in Poland as a decent occupation.  Wiktor assures her she has talent to learn and the most important thing is they’ll be together. They kiss.   The performance in Berlin is shot very uniform and proper, perhaps further pointing to its newfound soulless rigidity.  Afterwards, Wiktor goes to the meeting place to cross the border.  Zula remains at the reception with the comrades and Kaczmarek (as if in a trance) and never shows.  Wiktor waits until nightfall and eventually stiffly walks across without her.  

Defection

Wiktor is now playing piano in a cool jazz night club in Paris with a band.  It is 1954.  His beard is now grown out a bit and his hair messier than before.  He is now in an empty cafe at closing time and speaks French with the waitress. He seems to have assimilated well here.  It is revealed he is waiting for someone. That someone is Zula.  She eventually walks in and they stare at one another for a few moments.   One look at Wiktor while sitting across from her shows how much he still loves her and has missed her. The actor playing Wiktor, Tomasz Kot, really shows this wonderfully. He is very good at being still yet showing so much.  Regarding the performances, this is one of the most authentic love films I’ve seen in a long time.  And an expert director and writer doesn’t hurt.  The film never feels sappy, in my opinion, while simultaneously remaining very romantic.   Zula doesn’t show much and stays cold during this scene, but can’t help but ask, “Are you with someone?”  Wiktor is.  So is she.  He asks if she’s happy.  She isn’t, but doesn’t say it.  Wiktor knows and walks her to the hotel.  She says she wasn’t good enough, not as good as him, to make the escape from Poland to Paris.  Wiktor says he believes love is enough.   Zula coldly kisses his cheek and then stolidly walks away.  Wiktor watches her go.  But eventually Zula breaks! She turns back around, walks quickly back and they kiss passionately for a few moments before she leaves again.      If one just read this and didn’t watch the film, you might think it seems like any other love story you’ve seen a million times. But to me, because of the authenticity of the performances and lack of constant soundtrack music, it really felt great to see these two embrace again. And I think it proves that moments in movies that may look cliche on paper can be pulled off with a skilled filmmaker and actors.  Also, there’s only a few angles that the camera covers in this scene and ALL the scenes really!  There’s a graceful economy and no superfluous closeups with unnecessary dialogue.  And as mentioned, no outside music booms in like most films commanding you to feel something! You feel it because you feel it, not because you’re told to feel it with an over-bearing soundtrack trying to compensate for lack of performance or direction. Wiktor now walks into his apartment, smokes a cigarette alone deep in thought, then gets in bed with his girlfriend.  He tells her he’s just been with the woman of his dreams.  She doesn’t seem to care and turns around to go to sleep, highlighting the lax and blase nature of their relationship and possibly Paris artist life as a whole.  Wiktor then turns off the lamp and looks up at the ceiling in lovestruck thought.

We are now in Yugoslavia in 1955, which looks much more lush than I would’ve imagined Yugoslavia.  Wiktor gets off the train to attend a performance of the ensemble.  Kaczmarek quickly greets him at the front of the theatre and is oddly cordial and confident in a sharp suit.   Once inside, Zula sees Wiktor in the audience and looks startled.   Wiktor looks side to side and men are watching him from the aisles.  He is escorted away by authorities yet remains adamant to see Zula rather than be afraid of being thrown in jail or hurt.  The first time I watched I thought he was definitely going to be thrown in prison. Kaczmarek obviously ordered the men to take him away and send him home in a train before he could see Zula, because of Kaczmarek’s interest in Zula.

Zula and the ensemble are shown singing the leitmotif song now.  Zula notices Wiktor is no longer in his seat.  Perhaps he was escorted out at the intermission.  She sings with a melancholic intensity.  The black-and-white contrast is especially beautiful here, maybe more so than anywhere else in the film.  There is a black back drop and all of the singers’ alabaster skin glows, as well as their folk costumes.  

Wiktor is back in Paris now and has gotten work as a Film Composer.  Two years has passed since the Yugoslavia concert.  While in the middle of working on the soundtrack, the side door of the sound stage opens. Wiktor is spellbound as a smiling Zula is revealed.  

Zula has married an Italian so she could legally move to France.  She says the marriage doesn’t count though because it wasn’t in a church. Neither seem worried about it.  This time Zula does not hold back her feelings and, obviously, neither does Wiktor. They make love.   They ride on a boat down the Seine at night past the buildings and cathedrals. They messily and drunkenly dance alone at a night club in rapture. Heaven for a moment.   

Which begins Zula’s vast transition from the performing rural ensemble in Communist Poland to a solo singer at the Paris jazz club with Wiktor’s band.    She sings the emblematic Dwa Serduszka most wonderfully here. Order.  Everything in it’s right place. She is luminous as the camera slowly dollies around her, eventually revealing a packed club.  Everyone is captivated and still.  Then at the end is a lovely moment, maybe my favorite moment of the film, where Wiktor is staring at her intensely and she turns to check in with him and he gives her a nod of approval.  It’s almost corny, riding the edge, but is powerful, conveying a silent understanding between the two seeing one another perfectly clearly.

Poles to Parisians

We now are at where Wiktor and Zula live, which looks like a cool version of a converted attic with a Paris view.  Juliette, Wiktor’s ex, has translated Dwa Serduszka from Polish to French and Zula is unhappy with the translation, which most likely includes some self-consciousness about her pronunciation.  The manner is which the leitmotif song appears here runs parallel to the first step in the descent of the relationship in Paris.  Zula is defensive and anxious about the Parisian artistic circle Wiktor has introduced her to and she drinks to ease the anxiety of feeling inferior.  Wiktor tells her not to because she is “charme slave” as they say, alluding to how everyone has a narrative role and label in these circles.  Zula is becoming difficult and insecure.  Wiktor is becoming caught up in the scene and ignorant of Zula’s dramatic change of environment.

The film director at the party looks Zula up and down when they arrive.  Wiktor allows this without rebuke, most likely due to the nature of the sexually-lax Parisian art culture. Everyone is beautiful and chic at the party.  Zula immediately goes for the drinks.  She then sees Juliette and approaches her abruptly (yet with restraint for Zula), subtly challenging her French translation of Dwa Serduzska.  Juliette calmly explains her reasoning according to the lyrics’ metaphors. It’s obvious Juliette sees through what’s happening in the situation here..  Juliette’s part is small but the actress is excellent and conveys a lot.  She eventually mentions how the transition to Paris must’ve been a shock...the cafes, cinemas, shops, restaurants. Apparently Juliette sees this shock more than Wiktor does.  Zula tries to play it cool here but you can see she’s flustered.  This is a game she’s not used to playing. She then retorts that her life in Poland was better.  

Wiktor is talking to someone and looks over and sees Zula and the Film Director sitting closely, flirting.  Zula glances back over at him to see if he cares, but Wiktor stays put.  Then later she aggressively confronts him about giving her story “more color”.  It is apparent now that he has enhanced her Polish story to seem more dramatic in order to captivate his French friends and colleagues.  Wiktor shrugs this off.  Zula’s vibe is not carefree and cool like the rest of the party with her straightforward, intense rawness which creates an isolation for herself.   She sits in the bathroom now alone, drinking from a bottle, talking to herself in the mirror.  She calls Wiktor a jerk, but then says she loves him. She calls herself an idiot at one point. She continues to talk in the mirror as if to console herself.  And I can’t help to mention how much she looks like a young Gena Rowlands here.  It reminds me of the 1968 film Faces, which is also black and white.  They look so much alike, and both fantastic actresses that are blonde, voluptuous and troubled.

Gena Rowlands in Faces (1968)

Joanna Kulig in Cold War (2018) Wiktor, unknowingly and excitedly, opens the bathroom door and says that they’re all going to the Jazz Club now.  Zula says she’s a bit sad and wants Wiktor to come in the bathroom with her, but he ignores this and says let’s go.  She takes a moment to herself and then it cuts to the club.  She looks miserable and wasted sitting at the bar.  As we go, I am still noticing the framing I mentioned at the beginning with the subject at the bottom, but for this shot she really seems low!

Her melancholy is interrupted by an upbeat, American song (”Rock Around the Clock Tonight”) and she gets up reinvigorated and starts dancing enthusiastically with a few different guys.  The camera goes handheld and is the messiest camerawork of the film (a good messy).  She eventually gets sloppy and gets on the bar and almost falls and people drunkenly cheer as Wiktor exasperatedly watches.

We then see Wiktor carrying her into their room.  Zula says he is no longer a man in Paris like he was in Poland, and says she and the director get along well in attempt to get under his skin further.  He then sits alone in the dark and smokes a cigarette.

It now cuts to Zula in a sound studio singing into a mic in French.  I don’t speak any French, but her accent and pronunciation feels correct, but her spirit is muted...and we soon see one reason why.  Wiktor’s voice ominously interrupts her over a speaker behind glass in the recording booth.  Now the shot is on him and he looks disheveled and dark and tells Zula they only have 40 minutes left and not to blow it.  There is a deep hate in his eyes we haven’t seen yet, perhaps retribution for calling out his manhood and their recent relationship woes. An engineer and the film director are also in the booth.  There is just a bad energy in the room and anyone that’s ever tried to perform anything would be able to detect how difficult it would be to bring a great performance here.  The music starts back up and Wiktor looks down as if disappointed right before she starts singing.  

We are at a listening party now for Zula’s record at the French Director’s apartment.  Zula is standing in the middle of the room alone, listening intently as several others sit around in the background drinking champagne.  Dwa Serduszka plays, but now in French.  It’s okay but not great. It doesn’t have the soul that it had before in Polish.  I’m trying to put my finger on it, but the French seems a little stiff and the vocal track seems extra-produced.  Too loud and too clear when mixed with the band’s instruments and it’s just not what it was before like the first time at the jazz club, for example.  Again, this leitmotif song is also a metaphorical indicator for the stage in the relationship. She looks over at Wiktor who is cooly leaning on the wall off to the side (maybe too cool) and gives Zula a nod similar to his nod after the jazz club performance.  But this nod doesn’t have the effect it did then and seems oddly forced.  The record playing here in this posh Paris apartment compared to the Polish rural girl singing at the beginning of the film is night and day. It’s obvious why, if you think about it.  They’ve taken a folk Polish song, translated it to French for a rural Polish singer, then recorded and produced it in a slick Paris sound studio under difficult conditions.  How could the quality not suffer a bit?! Another example of the larger outside obstacles making it impossible for them, even in a free society like Paris, France.    

It cuts to them now walking home afterwards.  Immediately it’s apparent Zula is unhappy.  Wiktor recognizes this but apparently didn’t know while at the party.  As they pass a fountain next to the street, Zula throws the record in <splash> yet continues to mostly hold her sadness in, which has become more of a depression at this point.  Assimilating is one thing, but they have gotten into this habit of holding back and not being up front, maybe due to the social circles they run in now.  Zula cooly mentions that the French Director has fucked her well 6 times and "not like a Polish artist in exile,” which causes an eruption in Wiktor (what she wanted) and he slaps her.  

This is strange to mention but, technically, the slap doesn’t sync with the sound. Lol. I watched this part 3 or 4 times to make sure and it just doesn’t (unless there was a lag in the internet connection).  Maybe nobody else notices this, but I’ve had to edit-sync slaps, kicks and punches before many times on this very computer and immediately saw something didn’t look/sound right. After the hard slap, Zula raises up and says, “Now we’re talking”, which is sarcastic but also the truth.  Often one needs a crisis moment to break out of a behavioral habit and apparently the French translation broke the camel’s back. The next day Wiktor frantically goes to the Director’s apartment looking for Zula.  He stomps through the rooms looking for her.  The Director then says she went back to Poland.  Wiktor slowly walks out of the apartment with a terrified look on his face.   Wiktor has become unhinged and plays maniacally on the piano at the Jazz Club.  The other band members just stop playing and look at him as he bangs on the keys in isolation.  There is some slight comical levity here for a couple of seconds due to the look on the clarinet player’s face.    You assume Wiktor has lost his job.  He is now miserably pumping coins in a phone booth for talk time to find out where Zula is in Poland.  Afterwards, Wiktor goes to what I assume is an embassy.  A Polish man at a desk tries to dissuade him from leaving Paris and going back to Poland.  You can see the Eiffel Tower outside the window as the man asks Wiktor why he would ever want to leave this place.  He says Wiktor doesn’t exist anymore to Poland because he left and let down all the young people he worked with. The man takes a drink from his cup and reacts as if he’s spiked it with something strong, perhaps how he’s able to get through his job.  He then mentions there is a way Wiktor can go back if he truly regrets what he has done.  

The Exiles Return

It is 1959 and we see Zula back in Poland on a dreary, crowded train with peasants.  Soldiers whistle at her as she walks on a snowy road.  She has come to visit a very broken, gaunt Wiktor who is being held prisoner by the military for being an exile.  He says he has to be here for 15 years and got off lucky.  Zula gives the guard what I assume are cigarettes which buys them 10 minutes alone.  

His right hand has been beat severely.  They kiss and Zula says she will wait for him.  Wiktor tells her to find someone else, but Zula says she will get him out.

Cuts to 1964, 5 years later.  A performing Zula is on stage singing a ridiculous Latin-infused song with a black wig on, resembling a late Judy Garland.  She looks overweight and drunk with her comical, sombrero-wearing band. We now see an older Wiktor backstage with Kaczmarek who is holding an unhappy, despondent child.  Kaczmarek doesn’t look like he’s aged a bit and still has a detached soullessness about him.  With Kaczmarek, you wait for him to be rude or mean but he is not.  He always stays at a steady, robotic hum of cordiality.   It is revealed Wiktor can no longer play music because he can no longer use his right hand.  It is also now apparent that Zula married Kaczmarek in order for Wiktor to be released.  Zula now comes off stage and walks quickly toward them but drunkenly falls down. She manages to rapidly get up and falls directly into Wiktor’s arms, completely disregarding Kaczmarek and her son.  They go off to the restroom together and sit on the floor staring at one another.  Zula pulls off her wig, perhaps finally able to shed this horrible identity she's had to create to survive. 

She asks him to get her out of here...for good.  

The two take a crowded bus and get dropped off on a country road next to a lovely field.  They look slightly rejuvenated but stolid.  

Early in the film, Irena and Wiktor sat in the van while Kaczmarek took a walk to take a pee.  Kaczmarek then aimlessly walked into the ruins of this old church. He looked around, then left...point being we’ve seen this place before.  And earlier, even Kaczmarek’s face showed a certain amount of reverence for this old church and felt the power it gave off.  Wiktor and Zula now enter this same church.  There is a circular hole in the ceiling, perhaps so God can see them.    

They now kneel with a candle lit in front of them on an alter with a row of white pills. They have a brief, simple marriage ceremony. They both have a glow to them.  They cross themselves and mention God.  They ingest the pills.

They kiss.  

They then sit on a bench at dusk and look out into the field, holding hands, quiet.

You can hear the insects and an occasional bird chirp.  Both have dark circles under their eyes.  It’s so beautiful yet so sad.   Zula then says, “Let’s go to the other side.  The view will be better there”.  They stand and go, leaving an open frame.  A gentle gust blows the wheat from behind where they were sitting.  Perhaps God’s sigh...

This last time I watched, the ending really got me...and is powerful now as I write about it.  As mentioned in the intro, Pawlikowski’s last film Ida incorporated a particular style.  Pawlikowski never moved the camera until the end of that film, so when he did the viewer would be raised up in a transcendental way as the first external music came in, lifting us from the real world for a few moments.  I think he did the same thing here with Cold War in a different way. The moment of transcendence for this film comes at the end also but not with the movement of the camera but with the movement of the wheat behind the bench before cutting to black.  This film is high on realism, but this gust is something otherworldly, therefore a powerful contrast from the stark, real world tribulations previously in the entirety of the film up to this point.  This is what makes it so heartbreaking and beautiful and poetic all at the same time.  And also, for a moment, the viewer might weigh whether the fate of Wiktor and Zula is so horrible after all.   “for my parents” appears before the credits, pointing to the fact that the story is based on the filmmaker’s parents’ true experience during that time period.  Bach’s Goldberg Variations comes in and you know it’s Glen Gould when you hear the humming, which I don’t necessarily like but it doesn’t ruin the mood.  Bach was also used for the ending of Ida and is also the only non-diegetic music used for Cold War.  

In conclusion, I think every great film has to have a surface story that one can follow and then a large idea hidden within that story (or as a result) to meditate on which includes something deep about the human condition.  With some films, one has to work to find out what that larger idea is. For future posts, I may try to specifically focus on this “larger idea” rather that breaking down the entire film.  This often appears as a question, not an answer, and Cold War does this masterfully.

[interesting-blog-name]

SLIGHTLY NEW ALBUMS I LIKED (Little Simz - GREY Area; Monsune - Tradition; Backxwash - God Has Nothing to Do With This Leave Him Out of It)

More loose reviews that I write and instantly want to get out of my Word document and into Tumblr without much of an overlaying theme between the albums or any planning as to which ones I’ll be releasing at which point, but it is what it is. This time I’ll be compiling some recent-ish albums I’ve enjoyed, two of which I’ve come to know from TheNeedleDrop (I try not to watch reviews before writing down my opinion btw), and one EP from an artist I like. Here it is.

Little Simz – GREY Area

Little Simz, the 26-year-old British rapper, is an artist I’ve loved the first time I heard her, when I listened to Selfish for the first time and saw her cover of Feel Good Inc. in triple-j’s Like A Version. Today, May 30th, I was planning on listening to White Chalk by PJ Harvey, but from what I read, it’s a pretty depressing album, and I’m not in the mood for that right now, so I picked GREY Area from my future listening list.

It’s really nice to hear a rap album like this once in a while. The instrumentation is organic and well thought out, her flow is amazing, and her lyrics have so much substance and personality to them, ranging from the happier, more reminiscent tone in 101 FM to the much more aggressive tracks Offence, Boss, Venom and Pressure, she’s always giving her take on life, telling the experience of what it’s like being a black person with big dreams in England, seeing friends die while she tries to go somewhere in life through music.

The main tone she picks for her self-narrative is an unapologetic view of the world around her; she tells the listener: “’til now I ain’t ever been the selfish type, ‘till now I ain’t ever told nobody no, don’t get it twisted. This shit ain’t happen overnight” in the biggest song off here, Selfish, featuring the most calming and lavish pianos and violins in this album, and an amazing feature by Cleo Sol on the hook. Pressure features an amazing batch of verses all about. Same thing with the intro, Offence, with its bold, empowering chorus; although the track comes off more playful with its cartoonish sound effects nearing the end than the raw message of the track mentioned previously. A great, high-spirited track to start off the album.

What isn’t as high-spirited is the next track, Boss, or, to be fair, almost all the other tracks in the album. Boss is a big fuck you to anyone you might dedicate the song to: the hook has Simz’s most aggressive delivery in the whole record, and the entire message is about getting over those who hurt you and coming up.  The second verse is something else.

Wounds, featuring Jamaican singer Chronixx, deals mostly with the gun/crime problem ever-so-present in marginalized communities all around the world, and she tells the story from the perspective of both herself and as a companion of the “gun man”, repeatedly mentioned in the song (“When a gun man only knows self-hate, them bullets show no love”). I’m not super crazy for Chronixx’s hook, or the much slower tempo of the track, but it fits well with the groovy instrumental. Venom, on the other hand, is a super exciting, menacing song. She goes all out over the violins playing in the background, but unfortunately, the track burns twice as bright to last half as long.

To lighten the mood a bit, 101 FM brings the most electronic instrumental, with cheerful, banging 808s and synths, and lyrics about her come up as a rapper, probably the verses where her British accent and slang dominate the most, giving them a more personal feel somewhat. Pressure doesn’t feature the most compelling instrumental or hooks in here – the Little Dragon refrain is mixed very poorly and the vocalist just doesn’t do a great job -, but the verses compensate for that, especially the first one, probably one of the most heartfelt and important ones in this album. Therapy talks about Simz’s struggles with finding comfort in therapy. The instrumental is average for the project, but still slaps, so that’s nice.

Sherbet Sunset is an ode to a broken relationship, and a theme that could be handled so poorly by other artists is handled masterfully by Little Simz. In three verses, she displays so many sides to what I assume is one relationship, so many emotions and thoughts that she shares, it really feels like she’s transcribing something of a focused, bright mind rush over the track, and it amazes me how she can reveal her feelings so well on a track like this, progressing from the regret of not seeing how it’d go wrong, to the anxiety that comes from spending all that time for seemingly nothing, to coming to terms with it in the last verse (although not quite). It’s a stunning song now that I listen to it again.

To close it all off, we have Flowers, mainly a tribute to various artists from the 27 club, with mentions of Jimi Hendrix and Amy Winehouse in the verses, trying to relate to their struggles with drug addiction and quick fame. It’s incredibly powerful and a great finisher.

I don’t dislike one track in GREY Area. It’s well conceived, a great statement, it really feels like she gives her all to make every track memorable, and even though her delivery is mostly monotone throughout the whole album, that also works to her favor, as she has a very unique and recognizable voice. So the lyrics are extremely well written, and the only reason I don’t give more examples of that is because I got a whole lot of school shit to do, the instrumental work is clean and precise, and I don’t have a whole lot to complain about. Check this shit out if you haven’t.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: 101 FM, Venom, Selfish, Offence, Boss, Pressure

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: lol nah

 8.7/10

“Why you wanna all dress lies as truth? Have you ever seen what silence do? I don’t wanna see no violent troops putting out fires that haven’t been started”

 Monsune – Tradition

Damn I did not expect to like this as much as I did.

Monsune is a Chinese-Canadian singer who has recently been gaining some popularity from his amazing song OUTTA MY MIND, which features a funky bassline and high-pitched guitar playing that some have compared to Childish Gambino, specifically his album “Awaken, My Love!”. I decided to check out this short EP by him to see if he had anything more to offer, and it’s safe to say, he does.

The first track off Tradition already shows what this guy can do with his production. It starts off with the same vibe off of his previously mentioned biggest track, but on steroids: a prominent bassline, pitch-altered backing vocals, sunny guitars, and drowned out drums. His voice is also reaching higher notes in this song than in OUTTA MY MIND, but then in the middle of the song it all slows down for a very welcome beat change that shifts the song from this summer anthem to a very chill R&B tune. It’s amazing stuff, although I don’t understand why he chose to put some very noticeable autotune in this part.

CLOUD is my least favorite from the EP, but it’s still a very solid song, it’s just not amazing. The bass is still very strong, and the bridge later on in the song is addictive as shit. After that track comes OUTTA MY MIND, and then his style completely switches in MOUNTAIN, which starts off with some solo guitar and his low, beautiful singing. It’s actually really moving for some reason lol. It then picks up in the hook, the drums kick in along with what I assume is a keyboard, and his voice reaches the top of his range for the backing vocals, it’s a very well-made song.

JADE finishes Tradition off extremely beautifully, with a smooth acoustic guitar intro over a nice-ass bass, some ethereal, trippy scenes of Monsune floating over the ocean and appearing out of thin air in front of you (probably not you, the listener). And then all of a sudden this madman screams off the top of his lungs in the middle of the track and I fucking love it.

The flaws this EP has are mostly related to the mixing, which I think can be a little too harsh in some sections such as the big breakdowns in JADE and MOUNTAIN. Plus, I know lyrics aren’t a focus on a project like this, but it would be nice to get something more than love songs in the future perhaps. Still, loving this EP, so glad I checked Monsune out. You should too.

 WORST TO BEST: CLOUDS, 1998, JADE, OUTTA MY MIND, MOUNTAIN

 8/10

“Don’t you wanna come down? Cause I’m so bored of walking on the same old sky”

 Backxwash – God Has Nothing to Do With This Leave Him Out of It

God Has Nothing to Do With This Leave Him Out of It is an album by American rapper Backxwash, who received a new wave of attention after Anthony Fantano reviewed this album in his channel and gave it a decent 8. I haven’t watched the review yet, but I was interested in checking it out because of the high score, and especially since when I looked it up on Spotify, the songs only had around 8000 views.

Dark subject themes and the whole dark trap aesthetic are the core of this album. I, personally, have always been a fan of aggressive, heavy rap music, from more underground names like gizmo and Fukkit, to the more mainstream variant of these sounds, like XXXTENTACION. This album, however, operates in somewhat of a separate lane.

Many of the dark, edgy rap I used to listen to religiously back in the day was borderline mindless. Shit about ripping someone open, hollow flexing, except separated from mainstream rap only because the rapper in question is screaming their brains out when talking about designer clothes, instead of mumbling like your average Lil Baby, and, of course, personal problems, depression, being mad about whatever it was. Unlike its other contemporaries, however, it seems Backxwash has much more thought and elaboration into what she wants to yell about. Instead of hiding behind bass-boosted rather formulaic instrumentals, she takes the more scenic route, with still very dark, but more intricate gothic beats, sampling various religious speeches and implementing them into songs about black magic and overall unhappiness. The Black Sabbath sample that opens up this album should be enough for any listener to immediately understand what they’re about to get into, as the title track brings heavy percussion and some of the most graphic lyrics in the album, which it already doesn’t lack. Lines about downing pills and vodka, contemplating suicide, and blank vocalizations of anger (“I want war with these bitches, I want corpses and weapons”).

The track that resembles an average edgy Soundcloud rap song the most is Black Magic right after, with its own interpretation of the “ay” flow, shouted with a tone reminiscent of someone like Craig Xen. The big difference comes with the much grander production, especially the growling guitars that get introduced halfway, reminding the listener of Backxwash’s skill as a producer. From what I could tell, she was responsible for the production of the tracks in here, and considering there are no vocal guests except for Malldate’s quick appearance in Into The Void, I’m assuming the features listed in the tracklist are all producer credits as well, the feature in this track being Ada Rook, providing the amazing guitar work for this song.

Spells is mixed for me. I don’t enjoy the attempted singing in the chorus, and it falls completely flat to my ears; the beat is hard as ever, but the lyrics feel slightly disconnected with each other. At one point, she’s talking about going to Hell to her mom, at the other she mentions doors opening and closing in an office and how there’s no one in some corridor, and it doesn’t go anywhere from that, with lines such as “heart is so dead with tissue” not exactly evoking any sort of emotion or imagery.

Black Sheep is the most effective song out of the first four; it seems to filter all the positive aspects of the other tracks and package them into one quick serving. The beat is chaotic and in a constant state of unrest, the lyrics are centered and aimed at various of Backxwash’s problems in life, such as her father, people who want to bring her down and put her “in line on the X and O’s”, and overall venting. After that comes a brief interlude, the first of two that don’t have much use in the album except as pallet cleansers. It’s followed by Into The Void, a track that mentions her paranoia of being harassed and possibly killed when walking around in the streets and the deli. It’s haunting, and definitely the best song in here; it is laser-focused in the exact way I wished the previous tracks would be. Her vocal delivery is extremely expressive, and she tells the story in a way that gives the listener a brief, but at the same time immense glimpse of the reality that trans people face and have to go through, in a morbid fashion.

Adolescence is very short and eases the pace a bit after the intense emotions of the last. It’s a message to her younger brother that quickly descents into a confession of her inner struggle, mentioning possible overdoses and being too old for the 27 Club and fearing going to therapy. What’s great about this song is the fact that, even in such a short amount of time and with a less explosive instrumental, Backxwash manages to evoke her emotions so well; this is definitely what she does best in this record, and it overcomes the times where her delivery is flawed and her words are slurred and hard to understand. After this comes Amen, and holy fuck is this an angry song. Criticizing the hell out of the church, Backxwash comes at greedy pastors and their irresponsible spending when the churchgoers who support him are in need. My big problem with this song is the fact that the hook, as impassionate as it is, doesn’t do much for the subject, and the verse is way too short to have any impact with its theme. Lines like “these politicians politicking” don’t help much either.

The very distorted second interlude, Heaven’s Interlude, takes us to the last track, Redemption, the least intense song in here, which is appropriate as a sendoff. She expresses her frustrations towards her dad’s frustrations towards her being trans, and while the entire sentiment of the song is great and well formulated, I can’t find a way around the lines “Fuck these fucking boomers, fuck these fucking losers. Fuck theses motherfucking fuckers in their fucking two truck. Fuck these fuck(sic)abusers, and fuck these fucking rumors.”, they just emanate Limp Bizkit energy.

God Has Nothing to Do With This Leave Him Out of It is a very passionate, real, well produced and well-conceived album; it bears themes that are immensely important to be brought to the music scene, and by mixing that message with its explosive and polished production, it amplifies it a ton. However, as powerful as her deliveries are, I believe Backxwash can go much further with her songwriting and song structuring in the future, as well as her intonation, because that was really all that was keeping this album from being legendary. If she can do more of this in songs that are longer and super focused around whichever topic she decides, she can make something legendary. And thank God she got reviewed by Fantano, I hope she can take this opportunity and make something huge out of this.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: Into The Void, Black Sheep, God Has Nothing to Do With This Leave Him Out of It, Adolescence, Black Magic

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Spells

 7.7/10

“Chosen one, sad bitch, lowest scum. Coldest, huh, black sheep talk to ‘em. If the situation changed I would have said the same shit, exactly the same.”