#the tragedy Shakespeare wished they could write

[conundrumcomics]

"Something to Toast Two Toast to"

[some-pers0n]

And then you'll never see them again.

me lying to myself, clicking on the mark for later button on AO3 : i will be back for you baby, i will be back for you I promise

[racfoam]

A Muggle AU Harrymort fic where Voldemort is a killer (he is in his late 40s/early 50s when the fic happens. I had to push his year of birth forward by 4 decades but if you want me to write Old Man Muggle Voldemort fucking Harry I AM NOT AFRAID BRING IT ON) who killed Harry's parents and 20 years later 21-year-old Harry visits him in jail and he ends up becoming obsessed with her.

Some background info for the scenes below:

1st Scene - First meeting, short sentences.

2nd scene: This is set in the jail when Harry visits Voldemort and gifts him Shakespeare’s Plays Hardcover Book for his birthday. This capybara is absolutely using this fic as an excuse to extend my knowledge on English and classic literature.

3rd scene: At this point, Voldemort has kidnapped Harry and is driving her to the Riddle Manor from London to Yorkshire and there is Forced Marriage, they are married already in this scene.

4th scene: They stop at a petrol station and Harry has a plan to get free. Bcs tumblr is being a little bastard and not letting me paste it, I'll make a post exactly for it. FUCK YOU, TUMBLR.

1st Scene (First Meeting)

He did not look like a killer. Except… Except the eyes. Those were a killer’s eyes.

2nd Scene (Jail Visit)

“What’s your favourite?” asked Voldemort, pulling Harry out of her thoughts. “What?” asked Harry, blinking. “Shakespeare,” he replied calmly. “What’s your favourite play of his?” Harry shrugged. “They were all boring to me, really.” Voldemort chuckled. His long, slender fingers touched the cover of the book, in the exact same spot where Harry's fingers had been holding it a few minutes ago. A slow, fond caress. His cold gaze never strayed from hers.

[Voldemort is wishing his fingers were caressing Harry’s skin rather than the leather cover of the book.]

“I think you’d like A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” said Voldemort, continuing to brush the cover of the thick book. It was making Harry uneasy. His gaze was burning into her. “Because it isn't a tragedy, unlike so many of his works. Some are so dark and morbid, aren't they? And you don’t like tragedies, Harry.”

“There is a scene, where Lysander, who has forgotten Hernia because of a flower juice poured over his eyes, sees her once again, and falls in love with her all over again.” said Voldemort, looking at Harry.

Harry wondered how a man so old could be so beautiful.

3rd Scene (Roadtrip)

It was a dark Bentley Arnage Uncle Vernon would be jealous of. Harry couldn’t truly appreciate it with her right hand handcuffed to the door handle. Harry also couldn’t appreciate the casettes it was playing, either, because she wanted to chuck herself out of the window because it was playing Sweet Caroline. What was worse... Voldemort was singing over it. And the bloody bastard was a bloody good singer. “Sweet Caroline,” sang Voldemort, his silken voice somehow better than Neil Diamond’s, and Harry truly hated thinking it. “Good times never seemed so good...” Voldemort was jolly, smiling broadly, like a man from the 50s celebrating marrying the prettiest girl in town. It was unnerving, chilling the blood in her veins. “Oh, come on, Harry,” said Voldemort, glancing Harry's way with a slightly offended expression when he saw she was glaring at him instead of joining him in singing. “You know this one.” Clenching her jaw, Harry was starting to truly, consciously consider committing first degree murder.

4th Scene (Petrol Station)

Voldemort parked the Bentley beside the petrol pump. He shut off the car engine, pulled out the car key and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Stay here, my dear.” he said, leaning over to place a quick, but nevertheless warm kiss on Harry’s left cheek. By the time Harry registered what happened, Voldemort was opening the doors, closing them shut. The heat of his lips lingered on her cheek, molten hot like venom. Harry leaned her head over the seat, her heart racing. She watched Voldemort move to the petrol container on the left side of the car. It was better not to do anything. He’ll have to go in and pay for the petrol. That’s when Harry will start digging for the key of the handcuffs. Harry watched Voldemort, and he must have noticed it, because he turned his gaze toward her, giving her an ardent, covetous look, the sharpness of his eyes softening, his lips pulling into a charming smile. Harry’s heart performed a sommersault. Flinching, she turned back around, facing forward. Her face felt hot, and there was a burning heat low in her belly. She heard the hum of the petrol as the petrol pump turned on, pouring petrol into the petrol tank of the car. For a while, Harry focused on that, trying to forget the soft lines of Voldemort’s face. Voldemort opened the doors, making Harry jump. “Are you hungry?” he asked her. “No,” replied Harry dully, staring at the shop because she didn’t want to look at Voldemort in that moment. It was the truth. Harry wasn’t having much of an appetite at all. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” “Um,” said Harry awkwardly, because she was feeling her bladder was getting full. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Voldemort hummed. “After I pay.” he said, then closed the doors gently. To think such gentle movements and gallant behaviour could shift to monstrous within a blink. Harry watched Voldemort walk into the petrol station store. When the doors closed behind him, Harry started reaching her free left hand toward the storage compartment, but then she saw Voldemort pull out a credit card and swipe it across the card-reader. Fuck. The next second, Harry retracted her hand back to her lap, and the second after that, Voldemort exited the petrol station carrying a plastic bag. Harry’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Voldemort got back in the car.

“I brought you pads,” he said, much to Harry’s horror, placing the bag in the backseat. He turned on the car and drove to the right, in one of the many empty parking spots, near the bathroom sign. Then, he leaned down and unbuckled Harry’s seatbelt. Harry watched where the key — Fucking hell! Voldemort pulled out the small key of the cuffs from his back pocket, placed it into the lock, and unlocked the cuff. Harry got her right hand away from the open cuff as quickly as she could.

Voldemort got out of the car and opened the doors for Harry, offering her his hand. Harry only put her hand in his because she knew he’d be displeased if she didn’t. His hand was big and surprisingly warm. His long fingers wrapped around her palm, holding her hand tightly, and he helped Harry out of the car, then closed the doors. It was rather warm outside in the summer weather, but nothing serious. They walked, hand-in-hand, to the bathroom section. There wasn't anyone in the women's section. Uncaring, Voldemort stepped in, letting go of Harry’s hand at last and letting her go into the cubicle. Just to be safe — or have an illusion of safety and privacy — Harry locked the doors. She heard Voldemort laugh amusedly, a low sound. Harry quickly did her business, glaring all the while at the doors, flushing red at the awareness Voldemort was on the other side of the doors, listening... Harry couldn’t believe how bad her luck was. The only options she had were to make a run for it now (impossible, she’d need to turn invisible) or steal the keys which were in Voldemort’s back pocket. Harry wanted to smash her head against the wall. Rather death than whatever awaited her with that psychopathic, remorseless murderer. She had to think, and do it fast. Hang on... Pads. “Harry,” said Voldemort coldly, voice darker; it sent chills down her spine, goosebumps along her flesh. “If you’re stalling —” “Um,” said Harry in the most genuine, awkward tone possible.

“I got my period.” A moment of silence. Harry could feel Voldemort’s eyes through the door, and she wondered if he could hear the lie in her voice. “I see.” said Voldemort. Harry smiled at her genius plan. Now Voldemort will have to go back to the car for the pads and Harry can run for it. “Open the doors. I brought one with me.” What kind of creep are you?! Harry thought to scream, but choked it down by a growl. It must have come out as pained (it was pained, but for an entirely different reason, such as this bastard being too thorough!) because she heard Voldemort’s footsteps on the tile. “I won’t enter.” he said, while Harry’s heart raced along with her mind. “I’ll pass it to you.” The plan to run was ruined. Harry doubted she’d get a chance to steal the keys anytime soon before they reached a motel before nightfall, before he... Harry’s breaths quickened, coming out in wheezing, rattling breaths. God. God. God. Why her? She never should have gone there. She never should have stepped foot in that prison. She never should have picked up the phone on the other side of the glass. She never should have bought him that fucking book for his fucking birthday as some fucking kindness. He deserved to rot in there, he deserved to die in there, he was a monster in human form. But Voldemort broke out because of her! Because he wanted her! Because... what had she even done that... What made him... A sniffle broke through Harry’s tumbling thoughts of despair; it belonged to Harry. It was Harry. Harry was sniffling. On the verge of crying. “Harry.” It was his voice. Silken and soft. “I won’t do anything until tonight, as I promised you. Now open the door.” Miserable, Harry got up from the toilet, uncaring for her lack of underwear. Right as she reached for the lock, an epiphany swept over her. Voldemort wanted Harry. It was so simple that Harry felt like laughing. Voldemort wanted Harry. Harry's breaths calmed as sudden realisation swept over her. Any sign of tears vanished. Harry would get those keys even if she had to suck Voldemort off in this bathroom cubicle. Determination burned inside of Harry. Then, she opened the doors, and when Voldemort's hand entered through the gap, holding the pad, Harry grasped his wrist instead, and pulled.

Continuation of 4th scene cus tumblr is a little bitch - This is where Explicit Content is.

[ask-jean-darc]

Bonjour.

Napoleon: "Mozart! You are a terrible teacher! You have to be encouraging. I teach the children in town—let me help him."

Arthur: "Now hold on, mate. If we’re talking about who’s most qualified, it’s clearly me. Who better than a proper British author to teach him how to write?"

Dazai: "Oh? And what of me, Arthur-kun? I’m a writer too, you know. My works are considered masterpieces."

Arthur: "Masterpieces? That’s generous. Your writing’s all over the place, mate. Admit it."

Dazai: (gasps dramatically, clutching his chest) "Oh, Arthur-kun, how cruel! Do you not see the layers of my genius?!"

Arthur: "Layers? You’re like an onion—makes everyone cry and smells funny."

(The arguing grows louder.)

Leonardo: "Relax, everyone. Let’s not overwhelm him. Jean, just write whatever comes to mind. No pressure, alright?"

Dazai: "Jean, you should make it poetic! Add a touch of tragedy."

Mozart: (sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose) "The real tragedy is that I have to listen to this."

Napoleon: "Poetry? He should learn to write properly first. Start with full sentences."

Arthur: "Jean, throw in a bit of wit, mate. Nothing like a good joke to liven things up. Don’t you agree, Theo?"

Theo: (shrugging) "Don’t involve me in this. It doesn’t matter to me. Let him write however he wants."

Vincent: (encouragingly) "Jean, write what feels natural to you. Express your heart—it’s the most important thing."

Theo: "Of course! That’s brilliant advice, Vincent. Only you could suggest something so meaningful. Everyone else, stop distracting him!"

Dazai: (leans toward Theo with a sly grin) "Are you tearing up? Truly, Vincent has moved you."

Theo: "Shut it, or I’ll move you—right out the window.

Arthur: "Give it a tick, and he’ll show himself out the window, no need to help."

Comte: "Gentlemen, please. Let Jean decide how he wishes to write. This is his practice, not a circus. Perhaps you should all leave, and I will help him."

Isaac: "Actually, Jean...you should consider keeping it simple. Structure is important—Napoleon might have a point."

(Sebastian walks in with a tea tray, calmly setting it down.)

Sebastian: "Or we could just let Jean practice without turning it into a philosophy debate."

Shakespeare (dramatic as ever): "Ah, the grievous toil of the quill! Let thy hand pour forth the tempest of thy soul, and may thy words strike like thunder upon the page!"

Theo: “You realize no one understands a word you say, don’t you?”

Shakespeare: "Ah, but tis not my tongue that fails thee, good sir; 'tis thine own wit that falters in its grasp!"

Theo: "Right. And yet somehow, I’m the one still making sense. Fancy that."

Vincent: “Such good emotional expression, Jean!” 

Arthur: "Well said, mate. There’s your first proper sentence spoken with some fire!"

Dazai: "Truly, a masterpiece of brevity!" 

Vincent: "See? You’re already improving." 

Mozart: (mutters under his breath) "The bar is on the floor."

Arthur: "Right, this calls for a toast! I’ll fetch the good stuff. Well, the decent stuff—I wouldn’t waste the really good stuff on Mozzie."

Comte: “Yes, a toast to new beginnings.”

Jean: (visibly exhausted) “Can you perhaps do that...somewhere besides my bedroom?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Admin and I made some rules. Please read them and respect them.

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Ask box is open, please ask me your questions. It will help my practice my writing.

At the moment I don’t intend to reveal my main blog here. For anyone who knows the admin behind this blog, please don’t reveal it, thank you!

[carmenized-onions]

This is actually my first time ever commenting without being anon …. And I thought I would do that to wish you the HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS!!! I hope you took the time to enjoy the day before your inbox gets flooded from your newest chapter. I’m currently holding off reading it to write you and read the posts from the previous chapter to prepare. When I tell you I have been refreshing your account religiously, awaiting any and all updates….it was looking a little embarrassing for me there. So glad you’re back again so let’s get into it.

-I saw a comment on how your story is better than the show in a sense. 1000% agree. You have a way of writing all the right things to get us attached (and even a little heart broken)to the characters and storyline while giving us hope that good things can and should still be able to happen for them. Regardless of how they see themselves and the situation(we love an unreliable narrator). Idk if this would make sense to anyone but me, but in my mind this story is a Shakespeare sonnet to the show’s Greek tragedy. Sometimes I think about things that I would have liked to see different in stories I read. Didn’t happen once in any of your chapters so far. Everything seems so perfectly balanced.

-I also pretend Tony is just off screen in the show. Don’t worry guys. She’s just on another job. Girls gotta pay rent😭

- I love the relationship between Tony and Syd omg. Peak female friendship between these two, but wouldn’t be mad if it was more than that…we are severely lacking in Syd stories across all platforms. Enough has been said in other comments about Tony’s relationship with Carmy, but this dynamic with Syd really made me think. Do I want to be her or do I want to be with her?? 👀Mhm mhm I’m gonna let that one simmer on the back burner for a bit. Moving on…

- Speaking of relationships. Tony and Richie. Wow. Just wow. I think the scene of him being a bit protective with the gross chef and him thinking Carmy would be all over it if he would just listen to why Richie thought he was a creep, shows how protective he can be. Our boy did not want to let that behavior slide. Then the heart to heart in the parking lot. I was in tears. Full on ugly sobbing. I had to pause and put the phone down….then read it over to really process it. It hit so close to home for me and truly gave me chills. It was such powerful writing in the way it felt so real to both of them and so accurate to how they would feel. If only one relationship can survive, I petition it to be these two. Friends (cousins) for life.

- You’re the closest we’re getting to justice for the Uncle Lee shit and i love you for it. It felt therapeutic 😌

-Also, LOVED the small character of Union Guy who shouted when people got annoyed at the bar staff getting a break. Very much made me think of that Saul Goodman video “Did you know you have rights? Well the constitution says you do.” It truly is the little pieces of comedic writing that make this story incredible.😭

- Obviously, the main event is Tony and Carmy. I love their dynamic and the way they flow so organically with each other in the story. I look forward to these two every week. It truly feels like before when everyone had cable and you waited all week to sit down and watch an episode of your favorite show. Nothing I say can do justice to your writing of these characters. Chefs kiss😘🤌

With all that being said, I’m sorry this was sooo long. I truly could talk about this story for hours. It can be very difficult for me to stay engaged in stories, but you’re easily one of my favorite writers I’ve ever read. I can’t wait to go read the next chapter and see what you do next. And again Happy Birthday!

THAT MEANS THE WORLD THAT YOU’D COME OFF ANON, WHAT A SWEETIE!! My actual birthday was pretty Mid, alas, jobs. But the weekend was delightful, so thank you!! The chapter I dropped on my birthday was Two Steps Back, right? I can’t remember the concept of time anymore. Regardless, I don’t remember seeing you in my inbox about it, I would LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS ON IT!! No pressure though, also you fully may well be in my inbox and have already yapped about it— I’m terrible at reading. 

Ah, what a fuckin knife to the heart (in a good way, yknow? Like a sordid French romance knife to the heart). Greek Tragedy v Shakespeare Sonnet— That honestly helps my brain so much, because everytime I think about S3 I go FUCK I DIDN’T PREDICT RIGHT— And that’s just cause they wanted to go down the alley of We’re at Rock Bottom and we’re going to Dig Even Lower and that’s the tragedy— And I went for We’re at Rock Bottom and we’re going to Desperately Try To Claw Out and that’s the tragedy. 

Neither of them are bad ways of writing!!! So thank you for reminding me of that. Do I kinda prefer my way? Yeaahhhh… No one tell Matty!! No one tell, okay!!! Unless it means you can get me a job then yeah tell Matty!! I want an Emmy, baby, get me in that Writer’s Room!! Anyways, thank you for saying so— The balance comes from going to school to write and also from being a freak— Here, let me show you:

Ignore the birthday list i had a picnic and a beyblade tournament it was really fun also i lost neverTHELESS!! My notes app looks like this. There’s more but they’re for Chapter 14/15 so I cannot show, but yeah basically if you think I’m balanced, it’s because I’m. wired in a weird way. constantly re-reading and editing and revising and dying. call me carmen's menu cause baby i'm FUCKIN CHAOS

TONY’S JUST AT THE VIP BAR IN S3 GUYS OKAY SHE’S JUST OFF SCREEEENNN— Sigh, I really do hope Syd gets a good fuckin girlfriend (platonic or romantic) next season she is just,, she needs someone other than this fuckin’ family because they are making my poor baby TWEAK out here. I’m still noodling with how I will do a quick lil SquidInk spinoff. I feel like I can’t just do alternate timeline series, because it would be a lot of the same happening just with Syd and no familial trauma, but like,,, a cute little one off, I do have an idea for. So we shall leave it on the back burner for neeeoww. 

UGLY SOBBING??!?!?! FOR MMEEEE??!?!?!? ooooOOHFDGH— Thank you and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but also thank you— Yknow? 

With all the growth Richie’s had, with his light bit of misogyny from S1, I knew the one thing that he absolutely carried with them from point A to B was be protective, be a gentleman— And so to see Carmen not act like he did— Bro became full girl dad. FULL girl dad moment. 

Can I also take a moment to admit something? I have been waiting a long time to do the parking lot scene, but I had pictured the parking lot scene way long ago, when I was considering writing a Richie fic! I did not think it was going to end up here until like chapter 3? 

The reason Richie and Chip became such close characters was truly born out of me not wanting to write Y/N, and so I wrote in Cousin and gave Richie the history of knowing the nickname Chip— Because originally, I’d thought Chip and Mikey would be very separate from the Beef. But I wanted cousin!! So their closeness was born, and now they’re literally my favourite dynamic in the series. Funny how that works.

I had to beat uncle lee’s ass on camera. I really cannot STAND that motherfucker and it is also SO FUNNY that in the immediate next note to reference Saul Goodman who is Uncle Lee— But yes that is absolutely what i was going for. That union scene in my head was originally going to be so much longer for literally no reason, and because there was no reason for it I cut it down, but it’s those MOMENTS THAT I LOVE TO WRITTEE BABBYYY

THANK YOU FOR SITTIN DOWN AND READING EVERY WEEK AWWEE— I wish The Bear was a weekly release honestly, I feel like it’d be so much fun that way cause what, right now we’d still be yelling about episode seven or eight by now? Ah. Love love love. My hopes are that I can get Ch 14’s draft done today and hopefully have something up in the middle of this week, but we will fucking SEE WON’T WE?

It was SUCH a pleasure to read your thoughts, and it really does mean the world to hear you’re so engaged and fuckin NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR GOING LONG!! It’s MY job to be brief (and I’m bad at it), you yap all you want. As a little gift, here is a tentative meme that I made in advance for the next chapter. The title is still pending changes, but right now Chapter 14 is called The Cat. Will this change? Probably, we’ll see. Everyone tell me if you hate The Cat.

what does it all meaaann?? theorize at your leisure SEE YOU SOME TIME THIS WEEK HOPEFULLY LOVE YOU !! also THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHOS GIVEN ME FUCKING MONEY YOU'RE ALL CRAZY!!!

[minnieearsposts]

7/17/24 

One thing that i love about your works is that they feel like the equivalent of Shakespeare’s tragedies(or any famous one really). The emotions, the pain, frustration, anger, small births of joy and happiness- You just seem to capture these fireflies all in a glass jar and then release them onto the page. They come randomly but make so much sense when you’re reading. I need a new name for this emotions I feel when reading your writing. I just can’t put it it down into words. I could go on and on about your writing, I wish writing comments was enough but I want to print out your works make it into a book and write annotations and even then I wouldn’t be satisfied with expressing my thoughts. I hope I convey enough of how much I LOVE that you spend all this time writing these works and posting it on a set schedule. It requires dedication and commitment, and I hope you take care of yourself as well. As a doctoral candidate myself the struggle to just manage life in general is HARD. I tried writing as well but hated mine and could not juggle both school and this. I seriously applaud you for your efforts because I don’t know if anyone else did because you truly truly deserve them. I want to write so much and you know what I will continue to add onto this once I can put these thoughts and feelings down into words that are deserving of being read by you. (Also sorry if the grammar is eh, English is NOT my first language) If you don’t know I’m goldenscribe from ao3 :3

Sorry if this is creepy or something I just want to share how much I love you <333

Thank you so much!! I try super hard to keep that schedule consistent for you all because honestly without it I would NEVER remember to update LOL

I LOVE the imagery of fireflies in a jar like that is exactly what I’m going for every time!

Doctorates are HARD and I hope you’re finding time to care for yourself!

ILY! And thank you so much for your kindness!!

[maitaiwiththecorpses]

(Headcanoned) Spotify Playlists For All The Aru Shah Characters

had a stroke of inspiration while scrolling through @namesarehard123's blog, and armed with (probably expired) lemonade, I had at it.

Plant Stalking Skillz- playlist by spider_shah

Royals by Lorde

All You Had To Do Was Stay- Taylor Swift

Everybody Talks- Neon Trees

There Are Worse Things I Could Do- Grease

Interlude: I'm Not Angry Anymore- Paramore

Adhd- Truslow

Dead Girl Walking- Heathers

All The Single Ladies- Beyonce

Carnaval Del Barrio- In the Heights

Dandelions- Ruth B.

Gorgeous- Taylor Swift

Mr. Brightside- The Killers

History Hates Lovers- Oublaire

The Dumb Song- AJR

U Wished U Were This Emo- playlist by shadowfaxnotprinter

Lover- Taylor Swift

Yellow- Coldplay

Producer Man- Lyn Lapid

Boy Bi- Mad Tsai

Numb Little Bug- Em Beihold

Overwhelmed (Ryan Mack Remix)- Ryan Mack

Mad At Disney- Salem Ilese

Riptide- Vance Joy

Detached- Lyn Lapid

Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift

Until I Found Her (Em Beihold Vers.)- Stephen Sanchez

Dancing With Our Hands Tied- Taylor Swift

Still Into You- Paramore

Romantic Stylz- playlist by prince snekkyboi

Happier Than Ever- Billie Eilish

Come And Get your Love- Redbone

Bad Dream- Stellar

Dancing Queen- ABBA

Kiss Her You Fool- Kids That Fly

Don't Blame Me- Taylor Swift

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go- Wham!

Here Comes The Sun- The Beatles

God, I Hate Shakespear- Something Rotten!

Therapy- Tick, Tick, Boom!

The World's Smallest Violin- AJR

Grace Kelly- MIKA

Freaks- Jordan Clarke

Times Are Hard For Dreamers- Amelie

Denim On Denim- playlist by eat-the-rich-and-good-biryani.

Sweater Weather- The Neighborhood

As It Was- Harry Styles

Gloria- The Lumineers

girls- girl in red

Teenager In Love- Neon Trees

Radio-Friendly Pop Song- Matt Fishel

Line Without A Hook- Ricky Montgomery

Turning Out- AJR

Take Me To Church- Hozier

Space Girl- Fraces Forever

Pink Triangle- Weezer

Jolene- Dolly Parton

Boy In The Bubble- Alec Benjamin

I Will Follow You Into The Dark- Death Cab For Cutie

Tear In My Heart- Twenty-One Pilots

Fuck Me (I Didn't Know How To Say)- Crawlers

Delicate- Taylor Swift

Bathe In Sanitizer, Elmo- playlist by YaKaMeLo

Someone You Like- The Girl and the Dreamcatcher

As The World Caves In- Matt Maltese

Fade To Black- Metallica

Wildest Dreams- Vitamin String Quartet Cover

In Case You Don't Live Forever- Ben Platt

The 30th- Billie Eilish

I Did Something Bad- Taylor Swift

Queen Of Kings- Alessandra

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy- Queen

Enemy- Imagine Dragons

I Write Sins Not Tragedies- Panic! At The Disco

London Boy- Taylor Swift

Brain Damage- Pink Floyd

Hiding In Your Hands- Dear Evan Hansen Bonus Track

Uptown Girl- Billy Joel

The Man- Taylor Swift

Dismantle The Sus- playlist by here?AHHHHHH

Ordinary- Alli Grace

Dress- Taylor Swift

Stairway To Heaven- Led Zepplin

The Takeover, The Break's Over- Fall Out Boy

Wake Me Up When September Ends- Green Day

we fell in love in october- Girl In Red

Material Girl- Madonna

Green, Green Dress- Tick, Tick, Boom!

Warriors- She-Ra And the Princesses Of Power Theme Song

American Idiot- Green Day

You Need To Calm Down- Taylor Swift

Family Line- Conan Gray

We Didn't Start the Fire- Billy Joel and the Fall Out Boy cover

Question...?- Taylor Swift

Devil Doesn't Bargain- Alec Benjamin

Away We Go- Bad Suns

Misery Business- Paramore

pt. 2 coming... eventually. add in the tags any songs that I might have missed

[arre-yaar]

Recommend me some of ur good shows or books that u have recently watched or read

sorry i don't have more! i've been super busy lately and haven't had too much time to read.

we have always lived in the castle - shirley jackson ok this wasn't a recent read but a recent reread it's one of my all time favourites. i think its use of language is PERFECT and love the psychological subtleties. descriptions are off-kilter and unsettling in the most amazing way, and kind of blurs the lines between reality and the protagonist's view. it also deals with the mc's agoraphobia, paranoia, and psychopathy with a nuanced touch, and has her use sympathetic magic which i think is very fitting to represent her mental state. i also love its motifs, especially the one about food and female power.

the name of the rose - umberto eco is literally everything i could have wished for and more,,, history, murder, codes, labyrinths, semiotics, random latin phrases i translated badly! it seamlessly blends medieval history, theological debates, and a complex murder myster(ies) plot. one thing i will say, however, is that it is SUPER dense and that makes it a difficult read, but once you struggle through it, you can't put it down. but yes, it takes a lot a lot of time and patience to reach that unfortunately. i've been trying to read it since 2022 haha

the shadow lines - amitav ghosh this book is beautiful and it's told in non-linear format, it explores memory, identity, and the impact of historical events. it moves between kolkata and dhaka, and i love the portrayal of family dynamics, cultural nuances, and the ways in which individuals grapple with the legacies of history. the integration of personal and the political makes it both intimate and expansive.

autobiography of red - anne carson this book is a blend of poetry and narrative and is about the life of geryon, a monster, (written by an ancient greek poet, but through geryon's pov) and explores love, loss, and coming of age. it's actually also very funny and creative as well as being earth-shatteringly beautiful

i haven't watched many tv shows lately, but im going to reccommend one that you've most likely heard of before but i will literally never shut up about it or stop recommending it: succession! i could write an essay about how much i lvoe it it's like modern shakespeare and the family dynamics and power structures and the tragedy of the entire show make me feral and want to throw up but in a good way.

[eighttwotwopointthreethree]

who lives, who dies, who tells your story: a write up of new swan shakespeare's julius caesar

it's been a while since i watched a live production of shakespeare! and i hadn't really expected to spend this interval of my summer doing so, but the new swan shakespeare festival at UCI was doing julius caesar, which, if you know anything about this blog, is like my number one most favourite shakespeare play. so of course i had to go see it. and you can go see it, too, if you're in socal, alongside their production of as you like it, and the complete works of shakespeare (abridged) (which, if you've ever seen the reduced shakespeare company's filmed version, is really hilarious).

why is julius caesar my favourite play? i mean, besides the homoeroticism in the text between brutus and cassius (#brutecass4lyfe), julius caesar to me is just one of the most human of tragedies, one of the most prescient political dramas ever done. back in 2017, shakespeare in the park did a JC production that, controversially, portrayed the man as a donald trump-type figure. and you know what, they've got a point. julius caesar was a populist. literally, his faction was called the populares; he claimed to represent the will of the people, but ultimately was taking power for himself.

granted, brutus and cassius themselves were not scrappy revolutionaries trying to change the world for the better, for all that brutus likes to cloak himself in honour and high-minded ideals. their faction, the optimates, were of the ruling class in rome. they represented the people in power who disliked caesar's broader appeal. shakespeare (via cribbing from plutarch) points out that many of the optimates were simply mad they did not seize power the way caesar had. cassius was indeed born as free as caesar, with as many of the privileges and ruling rights as caesar; why should cassius bend the knee to caesar when the bitch can't even swim?

brutus, idealist that he is, also could not justify bending the knee. he did not want to lose his own power, though he couches it in shakespeare as a wish to remain free. it's through brutus' rhetoric about freedom that we get the idea of brutus and cassius as revolutionaries, when in truth all they wanted was to return to the pre-caesar status quo. and when they determined that the best way to usher in the revolution is through violence and bloodshed, they set forth the main tragedy of the play: that a revolution begun in blood will end in blood. we've seen this play out throughout the centuries: the french revolution, the russian revolution, pretty much every violent coup that ends in repressive regimes. as long as there are despots, there will be fodder for julius caesar productions. (cassius was onto something when he wondered how many times their actions would be played out in the future "in states unborn and accents yet unknown"!)

this timelessness was felt in the new swan production. the costuming was at parts roman-inspired, though not all the way through--people wore tunics reminiscent of southeast asian clothing, or hoods and masks, or--in the second half of the play--military camo atop their tunics marking their allegiances. one notable setting was the one for octavian and antony's conversation, set in what looked like a public bath. another notable costuming choice was caesar's majestic outfits--flowing, regal, queenlike.

the production notes mentioned a deliberate casting decision of 50-50 male-female roles, with antony, caesar, and cassius notably played as female, with their pronouns changed in the text to refer to them as female. calpurnia, caesar's wife, is taken out of the text and her lines given to lepidus instead, and the characters refer to him as caesar's husband--which does cause an interesting dynamic when lepidus says non-calpurnia lines in the bathhouse scene with antony and octavian. other roles were also condensed--cinna the conspirator was taken out of the text except in the scene with cinna the poet, titinius (our beloved plothole man) had his lines given to metellus cimber, and some of strato's lines were given to casca. also, strato's role in holding brutus' sword is entirely excised, which means that brutus stabs himself at the end, rather than implicate someone else in his death.

all in all, these changes led to a tighter-paced production, where the side characters like casca and metellus cimber were given more of a character arc than in the original. giving titinius' role to metellus cimber, for example, made cassius' death make more sense, because there was already established rapport between metellus cimber and cassius in the first part. (i would argue that in this production casca and cassius had more chemistry, though...)

another notable doubling choice was giving caesar's actor the lines for cinna the poet. i think that was striking for the production, because it made cinna the poet's death at the hands of the mob have a striking implication for this caesar's. who deserves to die, and who was just an innocent caught at the mercy of mob justice? was it only cinna? or was it caesar and cinna? if you ask mark antony, of course, she would say it was both of them. this production's mark antony did an excellent job in taking control of the narrative after caesar's death. i'm used to JC productions going to intermission after caesar's burial, but new swan deciding to do so after the dogs of war monologue certainly told me that that was the turning point--that by letting antony have any share in the narrative, brutus had signed the death warrant for his ~perfectly justified~ revolution. his idealism--his persistence in "civility" and "playing fair", was his fatal flaw.

a couple other scattered thoughts:

i could see that the production was more firmly on the 'bromance' side of the brutecass debate.

which, fair, yes, that is how people have traditionally read the dynamic, but i'm always a good sucker for a cassius obsessed with brutus to the point of dragging him down the path of destruction with her, and would love to see a bit more of this cassius' manipulative ability.

this cassius is fiery, sarcastic, and i do love the way she sinks to her knees in the tent scene when she offers her heart for brutus to stab, but...

i don't think this brutus is quite picking up what cassius is setting down. he's a liiiiiittle bit too heavy on the stoicism. the passion that he showed portia in her ONE scene with him? that's what i would have liked to see out of him in the tent scene, and in that forever and forever farewell cassius scene.

maybe i've just got deranged brutecass brainrot, but i do feel like the devotion that the two characters express to one another in the text itself is part of shakespeare's sympathetic portrayal of them.

i mean, otherwise, all we've got of cassius and brutus is that dante thinks they're such horrible betrayers that they're now forever being chewed on by satan in the ninth circle of hell, next to judas freaking iscariot. brutus and cassius are, as far as classic lit is concerned, sharing the afterlife together.

that's why their devotion to one another in shakespeare's play is so compelling. it's like cassius' one redeeming feature, that he's so unerringly loyal to brutus and only thinks the best of him. while brutus allowed himself to be seduced into cassius' conspiracy, and his own devotion to honour ends up signing away their lives.

and yet when cassius tries to warn him against letting antony take control of the narrative, cassius was still too in love with brutus to actually put his foot down and say no and stop it.

also this production's portia stole the show. in her one scene she was just incredible. badass. girlboss. 100/10 no notes.

according to the dramaturg, who was sitting near us during this showing, this show's caesar was an understudy because the other actor got covid? you literally couldn't tell because this caesar was spectacular. such mean girl energy. regina george would've been proud.

anyway, go see the production! or go see new swan's as you like it, or the complete (abridged) works of shakespeare. there's plenty of showings for the rest of this summer, and you'll be in for some solid acting and good fun.

[hanzaikyou]

Picaresque Seven - A Review

So. I ended up watching Picaresque Seven last night (as I had been intending to do for a solid few months now). I was enticed by the lure of one Shogo Suzuki, and found myself an emotional rollercoaster; honestly quite perfect, considering my headspace at the time of watching. 

It was also quite cool to see Hosogai Kei in a stage, something I hadn’t actually seen before now. He’s a captivating actor, and I may need to find out if he was in anything else. 

The costuming was astounding. Every character, everything was over-the-top and eyecatching. The changing costumes of certain characters, the symbolism of the colours, it worked so well. (I also may need to make myself Jack The Ripper’s outfit. She looked awesome). 

It was really interesting to see how the writers could incorporate so many elements and references, yet still maintain a cohesive (if a little crazy) storyline. Shakespeare is referenced in at least two character groups, those being Macbeth (and the Witches) and King Richard the Third. Alongside them, there are several historical figures, in Oda Nobunaga and Jack the Ripper, and other classic literature characters with Peter Pan (and Captain Hook) and the Phantom of the Opera. It makes for a lively cast of characters, with a lot of big personalities and conflicting character motivations. 

I will continue this in the readmore, as I wish to discuss a few things with spoilers, particularly surrounding Shogo’s Macbeth, so if you’re good with those feel free to read on. If not, you may stop here, but do consider watching it if you’ve the chance; it is so, so worth it. 

If you wish to find it, the video can be found through the lovely furyposting, and subtitles have been made by the amazing aoihono96. I must thank them both profusely for enabling me to watch this absolute treasure of a musical. 

Now on to my ranting. 

Unsurprisingly, Shogo Suzuki’s Macbeth was by far my favourite character. For one thing, this man plays unstable and dangerous very, very well, and this character does a good job of embodying that. (On another more personal level, seeing the man who played William-Shakespeare-Nerd-Moriarty play a Shakespeare character was just a lot of fun.)

But beyond all that, I just really enjoyed his character arcs, seeing him unravel his trauma. Watching him go from this seemingly hard shell with an unshakable resolve and no issues taking down anyone in his way to a broken man having achieved his goal and trying to face what he’d done to get there, from not caring at all about his life to that final damn line, it was a journey and I’m glad I got to watch it. This boy broke my heart twice. 

The arc between Macbeth and Jack, then, was an interesting one to follow. These two aren’t good for each other. They make each other so much worse. Their beginning was... rocky, I think I’ll say (certain heavily implied acts are definitively not consensual), and yeah there’s probably problems with it. But the writing of it was so interesting from a character building perspective, the storyline of two horrendously flawed individuals that ended the only way it could, in tragedy, it was just so damn facinating to follow. Also their final big interaction was just so raw. Like:

“Don’t love me, I’m a scoundrel!”  “I’ll be waiting for you in Hell.”

It just hits so hard. And all of that after such an emotionally charged fight scene between two individuals that... god they were so messed up. I need fics for them. If there are none, I’ll make them. 

And then that ending. God, that ending. 

“It’s frustrating. I wanted to live together with him.”

This from the man who’s been basically wanting to die from the first moment he stepped on the stage, who is facing death for real, who has finally found himself a reason to live. I have no issues admitting that I bawled my damn eyes out. Pretty sure Shogo himself bawled his eyes out when watching it back too, if what I’ve seen of the cast commentary is to be believed. 

Anyway. I loved this thing, I’ll probably be being a menace on the tl about it for the next week or two, feel free to join me. 

Also the AO3 tag for the series will be made in the next couple days, bet. 

[navree]

Have you watched Rome (HBO)? If yes what's your opinion on it?

I've watched some of it, but to be honest I didn't really like it. They got things like how society operated in that time, and I think Ciaran Hinds is an incredible actor and did his best with the material he had, and if you just want a good drama and don't know anything about the period and the actual history that went on, you'll probably like it. Plus, James Purefoy was genuinely perfect casting. It's why I wish that the show was better than it was.

Problem is, I do know the history. I know the history quite well, because the general fall of the Republic and rise of the Empire is an incredibly interesting time and Augustus is one of my favorite people to read about, from a historical perspective he's fascinating. And the show bungles a lot in that regard. I've never been a particular fan of "we're going to invent these fictitious characters and make them important to the historical narrative" type things, and the combining of characters caused some major problems for me personally (combining Atia Balba with Fulvia to create the show's version of Atia was very annoying to me personally, considering how at odds it is to the historical Atia Balba), and just in general a lot of the characters felt very shallow and like they were crafted more out of a pop culture understanding of who these people were rather than actually examining them historically. Like, ooh Cleopatra is a sexually voracious and seductive minx and Octavian is a monstrous little viper, how incredibly novel, never been done before. Not like the reality of Cleopatra as someone who wasn't very attractive but was so intelligent and charismatic that she seemed leagues better than any other woman, but still prideful and stubborn enough to let it be her downfall is more interesting than cokewhore but make it Hellenistic. Not like Octavian as an incredibly smart person and brilliant politician whose complicated family life created a situation that had him latch onto Caesar as a father figure (and Caesar himself having lost a child shortly before they started getting close allowing that latching to be entirely mutual) and who started his journey to power as a personal revenge quest and whose litany of personal tragedies at a young age created the circumstances that allowed him to make colder and colder decisions for the betterment of himself and his family and his country is more interesting than wimpy deviant who can't fight. IDK, they made Livia marginally more two-dimensional than most other pop culture portrayals of her (I, Claudius your sins are numerous and shan't be forgiven), but that's about it. From someone who's read a lot about all of these people and has consistently found that who they actually were is leagues more interesting and creatively inspiring than anything anyone could actually make up, the show being composed entirely of preconceived notions with some sprinkling of "this is what I remember from Shakespeare's Roman plays" just did not do it for me at all.

Also, Agrippa/Octavia is a fucking cop out and anyone who writes it is a genuine coward. Like, you cannot tell me that out of the two siblings, the relationship you find the most interesting is the one he had with Octavia, when Agrippa and Octavian were friends since they were twelve and were completely and reciprocally so incredibly devoted to each other that it almost defies description and beggars belief. Agrippa never once tried to grab power even though he absolutely could have and was perfectly happy being nothing more than Octavian's right hand man until the day he died. Octavian's first ever political act, the thing that kickstarted his entire career, was asking Caesar of his own volition to not kill Agrippa's brother (it's complicated) and Caesar saying yes entirely because it was Octavian who asked, not only showing how loyal Octavian was to his friends but also essentially binding the two of them together for life. It was a forty year relationship of the most insanely codependent friendship of all time, either get with the program and make it homoerotic or just admit you have no talent and wanna hetify it.

[sirendeepity]

As of today (November 1st) Blaketober is officially over and, my goodness, what a ride. I am a changed person. Lowkey proud of myself for respecting the timeline, even when I thought I wouldn't make it (tragic) and entertained the idea of cheating a little (fyi, I didn't, except on one (1) small occasion, but it was just 20 pages and life got in the way,so-).

Like basically anything else in my life, here are my unasked for opinions on all the books <3

Needless to say, there will probably be spoilers

Alone with You in the Ether [★★★]

This challenge didn't start off very strong for me. Although I did overall enjoy the story, this was the book I struggled the most with—the only one, actually. The writing style was phenomenal, to no one's surprise, but I found the pace to be a bit slow, and didn't particularly connect with the characters. Not to mention the theories (seriously, Olivie, leave quanta alone). To sum it up: Not my cup of tea, my cute little brain was not made for this. But the bees !!!

One For My Enemy [★★★★★]

This, on the other hand, my brain very much enjoyed. My heart can't say the same, given the fact that I was in physical pain after finishing it, but anyway- I felt for Dima, for Masha, for Dima and Masha, for Sasha, for my baby Lev (love that man, seriously). I even felt for Roman. Roman! Someone give that man a hug. What a tragedy, this book. Olivie blake could easily write Romeo and Juliet, but could Shakespeare write One for my Enemy? I don't think so.

Masters of Death [★★★★★]

One of the best books I've read this year. Favorite one out of all five. Easily. Even if ghost Thomas Edward Parker the fourth was a child of Twitter, yes. I spent half of the book laughing out loud and the other half crying. I wish I were joking, but I'm not. I was hyperventilating by the end of it. (Not fun.) Fox and Brandt could step on me and I'd thank them. Seriously, go back and do it again. Don't walk, run to buy this book.

The Atlas Six [★★★★]

It was supposed to be 3.5 stars, since I felt like it missed that ✨sparkle✨, but that is to be expected when you already know the plot points and twists and all of that, so I decided to change it and leave the rating as it was after the first read. If I gave it 4 stars, there's a reason. I don't really have much else to say about this? I still didn't understand shit about physics and quantum theory (again), but I did understand the characters a little better this time around. Or, at least, I started to appreciate them for who they were instead of what I wanted them to be, Parisa and Libby included. A win is a win, right?

The Atlas Paradox [★★★★]

Repeat after me: Nico can learn how to live without his left hand (Libby), but he can't learn how to live without his conscience bECAUSE HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO HE IS WITHOUT GIDEON !!!!!!

@olivieblake don't worry, I'll take it well if they're not endgame 😊(🔪)

Anyway, Dalton? Hello, hi, nice to meet you. Also, who told Callum he could be so hilarious? That man is not appreciated enough, methinks. I am so ready for The Atlas Complex and whatever new project our lord and saviour Olivie is working on. Take all my money. Take my firstborn too, I don't care, just give me the gays and the theys.

[cherryhrat]

I don't even ship Hashirama and Madara but GOD do I wish I did, they're such a tragedy/pos Romeo and Juliet *wishes* their story was as tragic and star crossed lovery as Madara and Hashirama's. Shakespeare w i s h e s he could write a story that good.

Thinking about them fills my head with so many Thoughts and Emotions and I sigh like one of those dogs because I cannot telepathically send my raw emotions about it to someone because words will never be enough to convey how I feel and think about these two men.

[the-golden-ghost]

To a fellow fic writer 49, 55, 59, 74 and 68

49. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

I want to be vain and put my favorite fic but it's actually not that one.

... I'd say either Our Purpose (Deltarune) or Hold Out Til Morning (Lupin III)

55. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

I tend to be fucky with the light and dark and try to use it Symbolically, whether or not I succeed in that, I'm not sure. But I give it a go lmao

Settings... I do a lot of bedroom fics but I don't write sex. Just pillow talk.

I also do a lot of death and tragedy. I'd like to do less of that but it happens ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

59. Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges?  If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

Yes, I've done twice a fic swap thing for Shakespeare's history plays (one I deleted from AO3 cause I didn't like it but one is still up). Another was for 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, that one's still there too, it's called A Game Of Art.

I liked them yes! I'd do another fic event if I could find one, but they don't always pop up and when they do they tend to be selective or private.

74. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

Smoke and Moonlight PLEASE. I also like Harmony a lot and it didn't get much notice

68. Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

For Lupin III of course there's How To Train Your Assassins by @temporary-dysphoria and I REALLY love Vandeerer (@dandunn's) work as well.

For Deltarune it's a bit harder cause there's so much and I get picky about characterization. I love @3wisellamas' work ESPECIALLY their long-form SCC fic Behind the Music. And also susie_dreemurr (@y2kbugs) has this awesome Spamton fic called Change of Heart.

[melsdreamweaving]

Oh, the glorious quest to get published! It's like deciding you want to climb Everest but realizing halfway you're just in your backyard with a really tall ladder. Since the tender age of "I can write my name," I was convinced this path was my calling. Networking? I thought it meant making friends with spiders. Persistence? My middle name (not really, but it sounds cool). Consistency? Well, let's just say my breakfast choice is as consistent as my writing schedule.

Writing? A breeze. Editing? A slightly gustier breeze, but manageable because, let's face it, perfection is a journey, not a destination. It's like telling a caterpillar to hurry up and be a butterfly already. And don't get me started on the arts and crafts analogy. Ever stared at a painting and thought, "This needs more cowbell"? That's me, questioning my artistic choices.

Ah, the dreaded imposter syndrome, the invisible gremlin whispering sweet nothings like, "You sure you're good enough?" during my most creative moments. It's like having a backseat driver in your brain during a solo road trip.

College, ah, the land of opportunity and all-you-can-eat dining halls. I decided to transform my so-called 'negative trait' into a glittering career by joining the university publishing house. Emailed the prof, and bam! Editor-in-chief. My friend compared it to vaulting from bank customer to president in a heartbeat. Imagine my pride, trying to be the humble shepherd amongst my flock of fellow club members.

But, oh, the drama. I had not anticipated the Shakespearean levels of tragedy and comedy, inspired by toxic reality TV and "Mean Girls" reruns. My generation turned the publishing club into a gladiator arena, but with more backstabbing and less physical exertion. It was less about nurturing literary talent and more about who could orchestrate the most dramatic exit. Ah, to be young and convinced everyone's out to get you, instead of just out to get your manuscript published.

The first fortnight with the publishing club was like a literary honeymoon. We were all hearts and flowers, discussing potential masterpieces and brainstorming themes that would make Shakespeare wish he had a pen pal like us. But then, as if Monday of the third week was cursed by a bored reality TV producer, she made her entrance. Let's call her Scarlet, not just for her artificially crimson hair but for the drama she was about to unleash.

Scarlet was miffed, to put it mildly. She seemed to think the editor-in-chief throne was hers by divine right, a sentiment somewhat dampened by her late arrival on the scene due to an apparently crucial vacationing spree. When we first met, and our hands awkwardly collided in what history might record as the least enthusiastic handshake, I naively thought, "Hey, maybe she's got a point." So, in a moment of misguided generosity, I offered her the crown. Big mistake.

Unbeknownst to me, Scarlet was not alone. She had a posse, a veritable velociraptor squad, if you will. It was baffling. Why crave the editor's chair so badly if you're already rolling deep with connections and subtly hinting at the professor's impending doom? And then there was her mentor, a Miami-based author with an ego so inflated he probably thought Hemingway was his pen name. Scarlet was rumored to be the poster child for nepotism, a Nepo Baby™ in the flesh, and I was about to learn what happens when a clueless "commoner" like me accidentally steps on the toes of the nepotistically privileged.

It was like being in a wildlife documentary, except the predators were armed with laptops and the ability to make you feel utterly incompetent with a mere glance. I had unwittingly entered the arena, and the games were about to begin. Welcome to the jungle, folks, where the beasts type fast and the alliances are as stable as a house of cards in a wind tunnel.

This brought about the delightful saga of dealing with a photography enthusiast whose strategy for winning affection was about as effective as using a sledgehammer for brain surgery. This charming individual seemed to believe that bombarding me with hate mail was the secret pathway to romance. It was a strategy so misguided, it made me wonder if his camera was also stuck in negative mode.

There I was, gnawing my nails down to microscopic stubs, embodying the very picture of stress-induced dysfunctionality. Picture this: juggling caretaking duties, moonlighting in a job that had me questioning my nocturnal preferences, only to waltz into academia's version of a gladiatorial arena.

The grand finale of my editorial misadventure was being relieved of my duties, courtesy of Scarlet's relentless theatrics, which apparently were too avant-garde for even our esteemed professor. "At least you didn't give up, and hey, one of your pieces got in," was the consolation offered, a band-aid on a bullet wound—until, in a plot twist worthy of a daytime soap opera, my piece was axed from the publication faster than you can say "editorial discretion."

Fast forward through a few years later to a night of poetic justice at an open mic event at my university. Lo and behold, Scarlet was there, perhaps scouting for her next victim or simply lost on her way to a more melodramatic venue. In the ladies' room, she offered a compliment on my poem, a gesture so dripping with nepotistic magnanimity, it could have watered a small garden. I acknowledged her with a nod that was as heavy with irony as it was light with forgiveness and exited stage left, grateful for the diverging paths that spared me further encounters with the queen of mean.

As Scarlet ventured into the wilderness of the music industry, presumably to charm or terrorize new audiences, I pondered the possibility of her discovering kindness. As for me, I gleaned a priceless lesson from the school of hard knocks: when faced with bullies, standing silent is not an option. Next time, I'll be ready to turn the microphone into a megaphone for justice, because sometimes, the pen (or the spoken word) truly is mightier than the sword—or the camera, in this case.

[bettertoforgetme]

Seeing your eyes flash with recognition, abandoning that vacant look in a moment of realization as you look at me. Proving that you’re still there, still defiant and proud in the way only you can be.

Watching you drift as your eyelids droop heavier and your jaw relaxes, you look peaceful. It gives me some deeper peace and makes me smile.

Then all at once you tense, suddenly alert again. Your muscles flex and tighten as you sit upright. You’re staring straight ahead in a panic and I wait for a cry that never comes. My heart breaks.

Your taut muscles relax again and your form sinks back into the bed as the terror leaves you. Your eyes flash across my face, but I don’t know what you’re looking for. Relief? Concern? It doesn’t matter, you recognize that I’m there.

We don’t communicate, I don’t know if the words would reach you, if you’d understand. In some way, maybe a residual instinct from our primal beginnings, you understand that I’m there for you. Your intelligent eyes let me know that you understand.

I can’t help you in any way that matters. I can’t relieve your pains or snap you out of those tense moments of fear. But I can love you. And maybe doing everything I can and not caring if you’ll ever recognize it is love itself.

But as I write this, I look over at you and your eyes are on me. I can’t read your thoughts and your expression betrays nothing, but all your attention is locked on me. I still look for your reaction, it’s in my nature, but I don’t see one. Your eyes don’t waver, but they don’t study me either. I allow myself to believe you find comfort with me, or that you’re fascinated with me more than you’d be some painting on these hospital walls. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe that’s vanity.

I tried to avoid it, to finish this without addressing it, but it would be an affront to Shakespeare and Homer alike if I left it unwritten. I marvel at your beauty. Full and pouty lips, soft like rose petals. Full cheeks with a soft jaw line, rounded to hide any sharp edges that would betray your gentle beauty. Dark eyes, deep like staring into a forest, I get lost in them every time we exchange a glance. My heart sparks every time we lock eyes, electricity runs through my core and my smile trembles in your presence.

I don’t do the great writers justice, I can’t write an epic about you without turning it into a tragedy, and for that I am sorry. But I can do this, I can immortalize your beauty and your pain with ink and pen so that you shall live forever. And maybe one day, hundreds of years from now, someone will read this and think “I wish I could be loved like that.”